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.

Sometimes in the Summertime....

Sometimes


in the Summertime....


it is too hot for "real PJs" so I dress the kids in Daddy's big t-shirts.


Sometimes


in the Summertime...


our quick trip to say "goodnight to the lake" is the opposite of quick.




Sometimes we forget to say "goodnight to the lake" because we're so caught up
catching up with our neighbors.




And, sometimes



in the Summertime...


I swing by my sissa's house and grab "the" (her) Costco card so that I can pretend I'm her for the
afternoon.




And sometimes, before I leave her casa, I pull open the fridge door with the hopes that I'll find a
refreshing bevvie inside.




Sometimes



in the Summertime...



I not only find a refreshing bevvie inside (a lemon fresca), but




I also find a salted caramel too.




Sometimes



in the Summertime...



I pause and feel REALLY FULL FREE AND HAPPY about my summertime sometimes.

When play finds us.

Sometimes, our play is organized.


"Decky doo, go get your racket!!!!"

Sometimes, we drive really far to watch others play...
"Hey daddy, how long is 20 more minutes?"

Our drive is so far, in fact, that we are obligated to stop in Mystic for ice cream cones.
Happy to report that more ice cream now goes in (the mouth) than on (the clothes).


And the players who play? They are the best in the world.
"Ole, ole, ole, ole...."

We play around in the car during the long drive home.
okay, Mommy and Dec play, Nonie practices her anti-cavity regime.


We play with Fred.
Have you met him yet? He is Nonie's soul-mate.



And speaking of Nonie, she plays too.
"Mom watch, Mom watch me, Mom do you see me? I summersalted"


Oh buttercup will play.
All day, if you let her.

Of course, all that playing works up an appetite!
How bizzzzaaarrrre (as in ice cream & candy).


Sometimes. We don't even TRY to play.
Really, we don't - we just jump off rocks.

But then, play just finds us.

So, here's to all things al fresco and summer.

And here's to letting play find you.

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.

Sunday Silhouettes & Big, Salty, Tears.

The biggest melt-down of his life (to date).

Followed by an exchange between two crying kids and one sick-as-a-dog mother.
And for the cherry on top? I cried too. Big salty tears.
Yup, I'm chalking them up to just pure exhaustion.

Sunday afternoon plans threatened to be canceled
(by me, the feverish mom).
Then Sunday afternoon plans most definitely canceled (by me, the feverish mom)
egged on by another tag-teamed tantrum.
Those are the events that lead to our (unscheduled) Sunday respite at the lake just down from Happy House.

And while we were there:
1. The kids forgot all about me being there.
2. I forgot about their tantrums. (Not quite as easily or as quickly as the kids forgot all about me being there - but I did my best to let it all go in a balloon - is that what we say sisters? I'm new to this balloon lingo)


3. My blessings became as clear to me as two beautiful silhouettes against a fading sun.

(oh, and Dec grew a halo and I spiked an even higher fever).
The End.

Wednesday Bright Spots

I've got a few little rays of sunshine today.
Take a peak.



This strawberry is waiting for me to pounce on it.
Today? Tomorrow? Only time will tell.
If I weren't eating my strawberries one-by-one I would have made some jam.
But they don't even make it into the kitchen.



Good Morning sunflowers pointing toward the sun (me).



There are some yummy little veggies poking up in this garden that I toil over day in and out.
Just look at all the of the work I have done putting up fences and climbing thingies to keep everything safe and sprouting.
Why are you laughing?



Big cup of tea, Granny style.
I enjoyed it with a delicious piece of homemade whole wheat bread that I meant to snap a picture of but, well... I ate it already.




My boy gets a lot of treats because he is just so good!
(Do you think I am talking about Eric?)
Yesterday I said to myself "You (I?) have to get some more treats today because you (I?) are running out."
And then my-self that realized that I won't be getting a paycheck for a while said "Make the treats!"
So I did. And guess what? He loves them!
Drake or Eric?

STRA TEEG ICK PLA AN

That's "strategic plan" for you lay people.

And I just got out of a 3-hour strategic planning SESSION. Don't even TRY to hide your jealousy. I can smell it from here.

Maybe if you're nice, I'll show you my notes some day. Maybe.

***

I promise (insist, actually) that upon exiting the session this evening, I had no intention of blogging about strategic planning. In fact, writing wasn't really on the docket at all.

But then, I hung up the phone after speaking with Bri en route to the Riv, and realized I had just heard him describe his (very) well thought out, and creative PLANNED STRATEGY for making it to a ferry tomorrow evening. Impressive I tell you.

Just call him to hear for yourself. But don't use the term "strategic plan" - you may confuse him, he's a lay person.

His strategic plan involves trains, park & rides, carpools, and lots more "we'll do anything to avoid sitting in I-95 traffic on a summer Friday" kind of innovation.

***

So, I hung up with Bri and started ruminating on planned strategies.

You know, strategic plans.

Do I have a strategic plan? Do you?

Let me think about this.

***

Not saying I have a strategic plan for my weekend @ Happy House, but if I did it might just include (in NO particular order):

Being comfortable. Starting with my 18-year old lacrosse pants.

Gulp:

Figuring out what this thing is all about:

Tending to my flowers, getting dirt stuck under my nails (no better candy for my soul).

And, of course, singing

"old crow watches HUNG RILY" at least twice (cause once is never enough):

Eating one meal with Dec's favorite graduation present.

He exclaimed, "just what I always wanted!" upon opening it.

(Really Dec, have you even seen one of these before yesterday?)

Regardless, I have to give it a whirl:

Handing over the paint tubs to the kids and hope they laugh as much as they did during their paint parade:

For the record, I'll also eat an ice cream of some sort. I just didn't have a good photog of that.

Finally, what is a weekend without inserting

a little swing in places it has never been before?

'Cause after all,

One thing I won't do this weekend, is sit in traffic....

And neither will Bri.

(tell the island i miss her)

A Few Things You Should Know.

My sister is a triathlete.
(Her training secret is chocolate milk.)

Nonie doesn't charge much to mow the lawn.
(And she enjoys the steeps).

There is a big day coming up this week and we'll be wrinkle-free for it. Hoo Ra.

(When it comes to ironing...I am my father's daughter.)

My mother made me "talk to the hand" during her race on Sunday.
And I had lots to say.

Oh look, I match my lilacs

If I could spend my days,

with a lilac mustache,

I would.

Bloganniversaire

Happy 1 year to the sistership.

Whodaeva' thought it would still be around (and going strong) a year later?

In honor of the one year anniversary - I'd like to post a few pictures of blog posts that never materialized due to one reason or another (two kids with pneumonia, dying fish...not sure what got in the way - but trust me, it was something...)

"Blog post: Monkeys in my bed!!!"

"Blog post: Things we Knead"

"Blog post: Giving Up: She did, so I can too, right?!"

"Blog post: McMurphy"

"Blog post: The Eye of the Bronx Tiger"

"Blog post: What I really have for breakfast during girl scout cookie season"

"Blog post: Eating yellow (and red, blue, green, purple) SNOW"

Had to unload these pickies

as tomorrow brings more pictures

many more stories and

more sistership.

I hope.

To us!!!

Congratulations! You're Here.

Yesterday, I was working out.

So glad I'm able to type that.

Not to rub it in, but I also worked out today.

(Pass the jelly beans.)

Anyway, I was prolly 15 minutes into a 45 minute jaunt on the orbit - elipti - something or other machine when a man walked up to the woman 2 machines away and said,

"Congratulations, you're here!"

I thought nothing of it and carried on. I was just about to break a sweat - love that part.

But then, he walked up to the woman next to her and said,

"Congratulations, you're here!"

Feeling a little distracted by the scene, I let my brain wonder:

They must be friends. Friends with tentative plans to meet at the gym if they were able. And he's greeting them with congratulations because they were able. OR, are the post-Saturday-night-storm-roads in Ridgefield as bad as they are in Darien, Greenwich, New Canaan? Was it really that much of an accomplishment to navigate to the gym this morning? My drive seemed easy, actually...but perhaps I wasn't paying close enough atten...

"Congratulations, you're here!" The man with the belly said to me. To Me!

I smiled slightly but then was consumed by thoughts:

Do I know this man with the belly? Did I make a plan to meet him here today???? Dear lord who is he? Does he know that I wasn't paying attention to the roads this morning. Does he know I really shouldn't be here due to downed power lines and tree limbs - but got here somehow?

"Congratulations, you're here!" The big bellied man's words snapped me out of my stupor.

Just like that, he'd left me. Onto the next wide-eyed gym rat. Left me in a daze wondering just who that big-bellied man is....and left me feeling proud - proud that I'd gotten to the gym that day.

Congratulations! You're here!

Once there was a tree...and she loved a little boy.

And the boy loved the tree very much.

And the tree was happy.

Excerpts from the Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein

Kace, Quce, Jace, and Twouce

DO YOU HAVE A QUCE?

Putting my competitive side aside, I've entered into card games with Dec the past two nights.

Our favorites are W.A.R., Go Fish!, and Dirty Old Joker (Dame's version of Old Maid).

Playing cards with a four year old is an exercise in patience:

• He can't quite hold the cards in his hands, so we often have to set up the largest book we can find as a shield, so that he can spread his cards out on the carpet behind it.
• Then we realize the book is a major obstacle for him, especially when he has to reach the Go Fish! pile.
• If he does chose to fan the cards in his hands, he often drops 90% of them when trying to discard one.
• He has to ask repeatedly if the six is "down or up". And to be extra thorough, he asks the same thing every time he sees a nine.

But the real reason I play cards with Dec is not to exercise my patience. Trust me, I do that enough. Rather, it is to hear him talk.

"Mom, do you have a Quce?" (pronounced "cuse" as in Syracuse)

I look at my cards and, realize (panic really) that I don't know what a Quce is. After seeing a two, a queen, and an ace in my hand, I hear myself saying, "Yes". Certain that one of those cards must be a Quce and somewhat relieved that I could answer him, I look up and see his glad eyes staring at me. With his hand out.

Uh Oh. Now I have to hand him one.

I picked the Queen. And I was right!

After one round of Go Fish! it is clear that Dec has names for most of the cards. He makes as many cards as possible rhyme with the word "ACE", the grandaddy of cards in most of the games we play. He's brilliant actually. It's as if he knows that all the other cards really want to be as powerful as the ace. You say King, I say Kace.

Hey, do you have a Jace?

I Now Know Why

Today was a bit hectic. But I'm glad to say that right now, at 11:32pm I now know a few more things than I did this morning.

* After a good long soak in the hot tub, chased with a jaunt to the steam room, and a hop to the sauna (in lieu of working out this evening at the gym) - I now know why Susie speaks so highly of the tri-bathalon. I think I won it.

* This evening, I watched out the windows as Declan skied and skied and skied under the spotlights (!) in our backyard, down a wee-slope I can hardly call a hill, well after sunset. And, I now know why Damien spent countless hours (and the good Lord knows how much money) working a few weeks ago on "outdoor lighting" while my insides boiled over because he wasn't addressing the real issues with this crazy little Happy House that has more quirks than you can shake a stick at. The outside lights weren't even close to making it on the "needs attention list".

* After driving home from the tri-bathalon with a pit-stop/sista' chat fest - at Emah's, I can honestly say - I now know why I tell any and everyone that I'm so lucky to have family who live close by.