I Tried for You.

Today Sweet Nonie,
I tried for you.

In a few years, you'll look back on this time and you'll think -
"I did everything on the sidelines of Declan's games...."

And you'll be right.
You did your reading. You hugged your Mama. You collected flowers.
You filled, happily I might add, countless hours of "down time" as Dec
learned to play Lax, Gaelic Football and Soccer....

Today, You even got up the nerve to yell at the 43 boys on the field decked
out in full lacrosse uniforms, "Craddle Boys! Now Craddle! Don't you hear the coaches yelling
to CRADDLE?"

But tonight, I gave you a bubble bath and warm dinner of ham, potatoes, and carrots.
We were going to read together while the boys lacrossed. I was giving you (ahem, and me)
a "night off" from sideline duty. At least, that was my Motherly Plan.

Then the text came through:
"Running late. Will meet you at lacrosse".

Did I mentioned that Nonie and I weren't going to Lacrosse today, Coach?

Suddenly, your peaceful eve was over.

My sweet girl was sidelined once again.

Or, in your assertive 3-year-old eyes, my sweet girl was suddenly appointed assistant coach. I can't really tell which:

"Craddle boys, now craddle... Don't you hear the coaches yelling to...."

Watching them Grow.

The other day the kids followed me around the house asking the following question,

"what should I do now?"

"what should I do now?"

so much that I thought to myself, "who taught them that?"

At the time, it also seemed like such a bizarre question. I can't really think of a time in the last

decade when I've had the luxury of time - enough time to make me pause and wonder what I should do.

There is always something to do. Always. And by the time I get started with something, another "thing to do" usually catches my eye. Then I begin the new "thing to do" since the old "thing to do" was getting boring. This vicious cycle repeats itself throughout the day until I usually come face to face with the very first "thing to do" I started.

Somedays, that first "thing to do" was re-heating my tea in the microwave and I find the cup of ice-cold tea staring at me when I open the microwave door to heat up some soup for dinner. Oh yeah, I think to myself, I was going to drink tea today.

Other days, that first "thing to do" was gathering the library books & movies to return, and I'm reminded of this task when I'm sneaking into the kid's room hours after they've fallen asleep to quietly fill their drawers - when my hand finds a library book sandwiched between athletic shorts and hello kitty kat underpants. Oh yeah, I think to myself, I put that book in the basket 8 hours ago when I was heading downstairs with the dirty laundry.

And on and on and on.

There is always something to do. For me at least. And, with a house full of toys and heads full of imagination my children should always know what to do. Shouldn't they?

I usually have something horribly boring to suggest like, "brush your teeth/hair/elbows" or maybe "unpack the smooshed banana from your lunchbag". Sometimes I'll remind them of a toy they've forgotten - or hand them the library book I've just found in the fridge. Often though, I'll suggest the obvious, "how 'bout you come here and give the best mom in the world a big smooch!"

But, the other day we were out in the garden and I had tried to help Nonie rake around her strawberry plants. A little spring cleaning. These plants look so promising already, thanks in large part to the summertime temps we've had this March. I was left with little to do, since Nonie insisted on using all the garden tools we had with us (rake, clippers, shovel)... so I sat back on the soft grass, and I watched her work.

Shortly, she deemed the job complete (which it wasn't nearly) and came at me with those same words "Mommy, what should I do now?".

I didn't answer her.

I mean, we were outside on a 70 degree day with a swingset, sandbox, gorgeous rolling backyard and 300 acres of woods waiting at our toes. If she couldn't come up with something to do, I had failed as her mother.

I sat silently looking at the trees and her, from the corner of my eye.

What would she do with nothing to do? I wondered.

She hadn't spent 10 seconds waiting for an answer from me and she'd spun on her heal, walked to her tiny dora the explorer folding chair. She picked it up and carried it to her strawberry patch. The moss colored leaves must have looked promising to her too. Because all that she said (not even to me really but more to herself was), "I think I'll just sit here and watch my strawberries grow".

And I was proud of her because she had found a terribly important job that needed doing. She stepped up to the plate, made sure she'd be comfortable on the job by placing her folding chair just so. And she did it.

She watched the strawberries - and I watched her - grow that day.

Happier House.

So, when asked by our realtor to write a "Happy House Testimonial" for the reverse side of the MLS listing sheet (which now graces my kitchen counter), I took to the photo archives to stir up the memories and I think this picture above just might be my favorite in all the lot. The arrow sign in the distance above Nonie's head is the sign Lilly painted for our wedding and it is in our front garden with the words "Kara & Damien". Gosh, Happy House is full of the good stuff.

And when I look at this picture I remember that Nonie scooted. She never crawled. And here, on this day and in this photo, she scooted right through the front door and outside into the rain. And it was a beautiful moment. I didn't stop her. She got very wet, and she loved it. But, I think I loved it more.

And I also think I've used this picture before on this blog. Forgive me.

And so, when I wrote to my best friend of 35+ years on the night we listed the house to tell her the news, she responded to my email titled "we've put Happy House on the market" with the following:

"I'm so sad to hear that you are going to be leaving Happy House, but, I can't wait to visit Happier House".

And that is why she is my best friend. Thanks Toad.

Boxed In.

Let it be known that for the millionth and one time in my life,

a lesson came at me, unexpectedly, from my children....

when something new appears in your living room, or in your life...

dig into it.

climb into it.
embrace it.

explore it - with every sense of your body.

don't be afraid of the unknown.
there may be a treasure waiting for you if you look hard and long enough.
or maybe

the treasure is the art of being open

to new experiences....
and not being or feeling boxed in.

Keeper of my gate.

The other day the kids played in the yard while I walked in and out of the house with boxes.

To the car and back again. The process was smooth and I didn't mind it one bit since the weather was simply mild and sunny for this time of year.

But when Declan took to the white picket fence gate and held it open for a moment, I realized and was instantly grateful that my life was easier with him as my gate keeper.

Unfortunately, neither his attention span nor doorman etiquette lasted more than two trips through the passageway. So, before I lost him completely, I asked him if he could find something to hold the gate open for me and continued on to fetch my next box.

I walked out to the car a minute later, he was (politely) asking and directing Nonie to sit in the spot by his foot on the driveway, with her back propping the gate open. She clearly had no idea what was going on but followed his directions with wide-eyed excitement because her big brother was paying attention to her.

Then, in his sing-song voice - the voice he uses only occasionally when he talks to his baby sister as if he were her parent - he said:

There, now be a good little girl and make sure Mommy's gate doesn't close on her.

And she did.

And for the rest of my lugging of boxes I thought of only this:

Might my children be the gatekeepers of my life?

When I am with them it seems like my opportunities abound, my goals are clear and reachable, and when I need it the very most - my gate is always held open with an encouraging smile.

waited up for me.

i came in late tonight and these two had waited up for me.

so i rolled into their room and recounted the funny story from this morning.

the minute i began to tell it, nonie realized she was the star in the story and perked up a bit.

this morning,

i opened the car door to let nonie out at school and she'd fallen backwards into the car.

when i swung the door open, all i saw were mary janes and heart speckled tights floundering in the air.

it was her backpack that kept her in that position for a few seconds.

it was as if a turtle was lying upside-down - flailing its legs.

my laughter was immediate and i was relieved to see that she was laughing too.

i laughed out-loud again this evening recounting the story.

and once more earlier today sitting under the flourescent work lights of my desk - i'd let my mind wander for a bit and found it took me right back to my little girl flailing like a tipped turtle.

my co-workers wondered briefly what it was that had made me laugh.

now, late in the evening, the kids were belly laughing too.

it helped that nonie re-enacted the pose right there on her bed in her purple flowered pjs.

Then I kissed them a million times each and snuck downstairs.

Declan tiptoed down the stairs about 45 minutes later with breaking news:

I've seen extra long feet in nonie's bed.

huh?

So, a bit nervous, but realizing this definitely falls under my mother job description, I followed him upstairs. We bravely made our way to the edge of Nonie's bed where she slept soundly.

I stepped forward and pulled back the blankets and revealed

A straight line of stuffed animals were standing guard by Nonie's toes. She'd positioned them just so. Most of the barrier was made from hello kitty kat stuffed animals. Together, Dec and I laughed...we laughed out-loud.

A good laugh is like candy for my soul.

My soul had lots of sweets today.

Then, as he crawled into bed I thanked Dec

for waiting up for me.

Home-grown art shows.

A family tradition -

when the pile o'art becomes too large ...

It is time for a family art show.

Complete with homemade tickets,

backstage passes, exclusive conversations with the artist,

an occasional cocktail, and lots of "oooooohing".

Sometimes we try to guess what the picture is:

"a turkey!" "a snake eating a watermelon!"

"an upside-down cheetah with one extra leg!"

Other times, the artist tells us all about the picture and how

it was made.

This month - Artiste Nonie put on a quite a show.

And to think I knew her when....

She Dances Each Wednesday...

In A Studio Beneath A Sign That Reads:

Dance in the Direction of Your Dreams.

Of course she does.

Opus.

Dearest Nonie,

On the eve of your third birthday I must say -

not a day goes by when I don't look at you, laugh with you, love you, and think...

you might just be my

Magnum Opus.

I think I know what it feels like to be complete.

You are my sweet, sweet girl. (Even when you pee in your bed 3 nights in a row).

Love,

Mommy

Spewing.

Here are a few things I'm spewing tonight because (quite honestly) I simply don't have time to organize a real post. There is packing to do gosh darnit.

1. I have no idea who took that picture (above) but it must be a cousin. See post from 7/25/11 for reference.

2. I like that picture. Dear Cousin, you can borrow my camera any time.

3. Dec, in the midst of picking out "American" t-shirts today at Target to bring to all his relations he doesn't know in County Wicklow and County Cork and Tipperary - asked

"Does Auntie Una have any babies?" No. I replied. "Why?" Dec asked. She and her husband decided not to have babies. I replied. "But how do you make a baby mom?" Dec asked.

4. I was not prepared to answer him in the discount t-shirt aisle of Target so I wheeled (quickly) in the direction of the new CARS II toys and avoided the questioning all together. Was that bad parenting? I'm beginning to think yes.

5. Dec paddled his new (birthday present) kayak in the lake for the first time today and within about 67 seconds had an older (7-year-old) girl asking to hitch a ride on the back. He obliged. Of Course, he did. Because he is the best kid ever born (and Nonie too). But, should I be concerned that his new yellow (banana boat) kayak is a chick magnet.

A chick magnet?!

I was not prepared for this.


Please, discuss amongst yourselves and advise ASAP.


Over and out.

The flower's shadow.

When I took this picture today...

I was at work.

I missed Nonie desperately.

I had to time it just right, because the wind was blowing, and the shadow was hard to catch.

When I took this picture I was walking with a man who retired from our organization 2 weeks ago after 2 1/2 decades of work on the land. Yesterday, he closed on the house he built with his bare hands. Tomorrow he moves to a condo an hour away.

I was kneeling in white linen pants in dirt.

I didn't know the name of the flower.

When I took this picture I was hungry.

And sad.

For Nonie,

and for my co-worker.

When I look at the picture now,

I can just hear the wind

that moved the canopy of leaves,

to allow the sunlight,

that made the flower's shadow appear.

Today so far...

You serenaded me with an unrecognizable song.

You did downward dogs on Granny's mat on the front lawn...

shouting "Namaste" to neighbors and the house sparrows who fluttered by.

You've asked for an icey pop about 30 times. For the record, it is 2:02PM and

I've yet to give in to your demands. Go me.

When coaching you in gymnastics, I convinced you to sit on my lap for a few

fleeting moments, and I called you my baby and the prettiest girl in the world.

You got dressed for the day at about 11Am. It was a cute button-up dress and remarkably,

you put it on with the buttons up the back, not the front.

I'm still not sure how you succeeded in doing this.

Then, you ate your lunch naked because we didn't want to ruin your pretty dress.

Now your body and mouth are both stained in tomato sauce red.

So, to compliment the face stains, I painted your toes hot pink.

No hairdo yet - it is wild and free, just like you.

You waved goodbye to the big schoolbus driver this morning.

And didn't welcome Dec off the bus this afternoon. Instead, when he dared to touch the cup

of chocolate milk on the outside table on the way into the house after school, you

greeted him with an enthusiastic and fierce: "my chocolate milk, Dec that is MY CHOCOLATE MILK PUT IT...DOWN DECKY!!!!"

and you tried to hit him in the head with a red wooden block (but missed, thankfully).

Oh Nonie.

Oh Nonie.

Nonie Nonie Nonie.

So far

today.

Do it right.

If there were ever a time to dare,

To make a difference

To embark on something worth doing

IT IS NOW.

Not for any grand cause, necessarily –

But for something that tugs at your heart

Something that is worth your aspiration

Something that is your dream.

You owe it to yourself

To make your days count.

Have fun. DIG DEEP. Stretch.

Dream big.

Know, though,

That things worth doing

Seldom come easy,

There will be times when you want to

Turn around

Pack it up and call it quits

Those times tell you

That you are pushing yourself

And that you are not afraid to learn by trying.

Persist.

Because with an idea,

Determination and the right tools,

You can do great things.

Let your instincts, your intellect

And let your heart guide you.

TRUST.

Believe in the incredible power

Of the human mind

Of doing something that makes a difference

Of working hard

Of laughing and hoping

Of lasting friends

Of all the things that will cross your path

Next year

The start of something new

Brings the hope of something great.

Anything is possible

There is only one you

And you will pass this way but once.

DO IT right.

- AU

Down to "THEIR" lake.

"CAN WE GO TO OUR LAKE?"

asked so often I hear this question in my dreams.

I sat and took pictures like I always do....

and I thought (between clicks),

Yes - of course, it IS your lake...

Your backs are facing me. Click.

Your beautiful faces are hidden. Click.

But I can see your smiles. Click.

I can hear them too. Click.

I've always said that "cousins are built-in friends".

I'm beginning to think the same is true for neighbors.

It is their lake too.

They love it as much as you.

Do.

Love it as much as you.

Do.

Love it....

I Love This Girl.

She is super sassy.

And cute.

Sneaky Camel Kisses.

Just stood with Dec & Nonie in the rain waiting for the bus.

I often use this time to get free kisses from the kids.

Today was no different. But I needed a strategy because they were focused on re-routing water through tiny gravel "streams".

I said to the kids that that my kisses are sneaky because they think they are getting just one, but really - I sneak about 3 or 4 in.

Who wants a sneaky kiss?

They lined up.

I demoed my kissing strategy on Nonie first.

She laughed.

Dec stood close, one kiss - then 2,3,4 and he lunged backward laughing too.

Rewind. Play. Rewind. Play. Rewind. Play.

My kisses got faster the more I "practiced".

Then Dec cried out

Let me try!

He came in with the slowest stickiest kisses right on my cheek.

There was nothing sneaky about them

but they were every bit awesome.

His hot giggling breath on my face mixed with his long, drawn out, super sticky kiss -

Is this what getting kissed by a camel feels like?

Nonie copied Dec on my other cheek.

For a few moments my cheeks were sprinkled with sweet sticky kisses from both kids

in the rain

waiting for the bus.

I bet my neighbors were jealous.

So my sneaky kissing strategy worked -

my cheeks are still sticky and

my heart is still warm.

You lost me.

Clipping bushes.

That is all I was doing.

She was out in the sand box scooping and dumping.

Filling her shoes with the good stuff....

It was less than a few seconds that I strayed out of her sight.

And at once I heard her sing song voice call out

Mama, you lost me!

It came again, before I had a chance to reply.

This time it was louder and more desperate,

Mama, you lost me!

With a smile on my face I took one step to my left so that she could see me.

She took a long look at me, maintained eye contact and began her performance:

Mama, you lost me....where are you?

Both of her eyes twinkled.

Oh the theatrics.

FARMED.

Yesterday, we farmed.


And tractored.

I called these cutie-pies goats for about 4 minutes. Then I turned around and read that they are sheep. Cute little goat-sheep aren't they?


Looking for milk from Mama Goat-Sheep.
After close inspection, Dec said that the Mama Goat-Sheep had no eyes.
It was at that moment that I declared: "all Mama Goat-Sheep in this pen need a haircut".
I mean it, there is some wool on those things.

I now wonder what I'd have done if the kids fell in.
Probably laughed.
This is just after we passed the "don't worry Nonie, those vultures aren't too scary" pen.

Dec scooped Nonie's hand in his own. To protect her from the vultures.

For the record, they were turkeys.

(We need to get out more.)

So many signs to read.
So much more entertaining than any of the books we've checked out of the library this week.

Earlier on our walk, Dec had told Nonie that a goat was a cow.
Seriously, why are we having so much trouble identifying farm animals today?

But this, I assured the children, this is a Mama Cow.

Then, I quickly took note of the fact that this Mama Cow needed to nurse or be milked. Her udders were pouring out milk and she kept bellowing from one corner of her field to another.

I think I was the only one who really understood her needs.

Just call me the cow-whisperer.


This photo was taken about 2 minutes after Nonie lost her cute little pink ked in a cowpie/mud puddle.

I chose to focus on the expansive view and not her muck encased toes that wiggled around me.


These are the babies who we stalked for about 30 minutes. Saggy-baggy lambs.
I could have curled up with them and their wobbly little legs for days.


Happy award goes to the pigs.
I tell you - they're on to something.
Sunniest spot on the farm and not even my squealing children stirred them.


Why hello John Deere tractor. Can we talk about the fact that a green tractor drove by us on the farm for the next 30 hours straight?!?
Great then, we will.
Wheels. Fascinated by the antique trike.
Desperate for the chance to take it for a spin around the farm.



We'd just talked about the saying en route to Montessori School two weeks ago.
And we also talked about "the early bird catches the worm..."

Upon seeing this sign, I think (but can't be totally sure) that Dec offered up an ounce of his respect for me, "hmmm, she's not really making all this stuff up...." he thought.

On Tuesday we

Ran.
Laughed.
Farmed.

My hope is that they
Learned.
Loved.
Remember...

Move on over...

There's a new kid in town and Nonie's adjusting slowly.

She liked to be the baby cousin.

A title stripped from her in a moment's notice and two weeks early.

But I must say, having a new baby in town makes me really savor these days.

At 5 1/2, and 3 1/2 Dec & Nonie are still babies. My babies.

And most importantly - they still need me.

To tie shoes, pour milk, kiss boo boos, tuck them in,

rinse shampoo out of eyes, buckle car seats, cut pizza,

put on toothpaste, zipper jackets, open paints sets,

read the "hard words", make popcorn, give underdogs,

answer questions, comb their hair

my babies still need me

not quite, but almost as much as

I need them.

Easy. Hard. Harder.

The easy part is hanging the clothes.

The hard part is folding them.

And the even harder part is putting them away, of course.

Bet they don't teach THAT in montessori school, now do they Nonie?