Autumn joy

Three autumns. I've actually been taking pictures of the kids in this very spot since my oldest was 18 months old and my second oldest was in a car seat. It takes my breath away how quickly they change and grow. To have a consistent background against which to measure their transformation is priceless. Some things change slowly--houses, trees, neighborhoods. Some things change before our eyes. My babies are growing up. I am, too, I guess.

May every season of our lives hold something worth celebrating. May the seasons bring deeper roots, and greater stability against the inevitable storms. May we be truly present in the moment, the hour, the day. To dance in the rain, splash in the pool, dive into the leaves and romp in the snow is to truly live. Let's live today. Really live.

Catching up

So much has happened in a month. Good things like birthdays, anniversaries, loosing teeth, riding her bike for the first time without training wheels, first day of school.

I've been living it. Capturing it on my camera. Just hesitating to share it all here. Sometimes it's beyond words and I don't want to add to the clutter in the world.

Both Adam and I have found ourselves tired. We are running hard after big goals and feeling small. Feeling like it's beyond us and we can never quite get it all done. Each day brings some progress and experience tells me it really will all get done. I just don't know exactly how, yet.

I've also bee feeling humbled as a mom. A new school year is bringing new challenges for each child and the answers aren't completely clear. I basically have to cheer them on as they face challenges and give them time to grow into these new expectations without getting overwhelmed. The neighborhood kids in our inner-city neighborhood come over almost every day hungry for snacks and attention. I give them hugs, snacks, band-aids, and, occassionally help with homework. There's so much I can't fix. I do what I can when I can, but it feels small.

I got up early to read and pray the other morning as I found myself reduced to tears several times the day before. Psalm 147:6a "The Lord sustains the humble..." 5 words. I am humbled by my weakness, my humanity, my brokenness, how I don't know what to do or say in so many situations. My kids need more than I can give. Neighborhood kids are dealing with things I can hardly wrap my mind or heart around. I can only watch the struggle and struggle with them. Struggle with hope, anticipation that we all will be sustained. Carried. Lifted. Transformed.

I go to my garden during D's naps for a small escape and to play in the flowers for a few minutes. Several of the plants are going to seed now and I'm collecting the seeds for next year. It's surprisingly easy.

Actually the girls reseeded the purple and pink cosmos in the back yard last year just by playing in them. The flowers returned and bloomed all summer with such ease and grace. I keep taking pictures of them because it's such a simple and profound symbol to me of grace and mercy. My kids were simply playing, being who they are. The beauty that has sprung from that act all these months later has been so refreshing for my soul. I did nothing. Someone else planted. The rains came and the seeds grew into what I needed but could not have asked for or done on my own. That is what makes them so beautiful to me.


I'll finish with some pictures from the last month.

Summer is

play dates and picnics at the park.

beach towels on the clothes line.

kids in swimsuits still happy to play in the backyard wading pool.

hearing her sing and knowing it's because she's happy.
sweet toes.
sidewalk chalk

skinned knees, kisses and band aids.

talking over the fence with neighbors.

fireflies rising out of the grass as the light fades.

sitting on the porch with him.

dreaming.

Colorado

We're home from 10 days in Colorado. We flew in and out of Denver after driving to Florida. It was best for the sanity of our family! My Aunt and Uncle generously hosted us and we had a lot of fun hanging with with cousins and baby Anne. Matching home made polka dot outfits greeted the kids and we managed a successful photo shoot before our departure:
We met with a fellow adoptive family who's daughter is nearly David's age. David and Raina were in the children's home together and came home within weeks of each other. Animal crackers and ice cream (two universal loves of toddlers) smoothed the path to friendship. Thanks to Tami for making the time and the drive to meet us. It was fun!


Apricots at the Farmer's Market just asked to be tasted and photographed. Mountain sunsets in the wide and colorful Colorado sky took our breath away every single day. It was greener than it has been there for, oh, about 45 years (according to my Grandpa, a Colorado native). This is dangerous for me. My soul is somehow deeply fed by all things green in nature. I grew up in Wyoming and Colorado constantly disappointed by brown summers and brown winters. I longed for magical, romantic, robust seasons. I dearly love the midwest's seasons--fireflies, piles of leaves, giant snowflakes, you get what I'm saying. So an unusually green summer in Colorado made me question my memories a bit and wonder if I should give the western climate another chance.

The mountains were also unusually stunning to my jaded eyes. I had lots of summer camps in the mountains in my teen years. All I remembered was that it was scraggly, cold, and it rained almost every day--usually at the most in-opportune times. The mountains were unfortunately associated with the teen angst that accompanied too many of my summer camp experiences.

It was fresh and new and beautiful, this time. Seeing my kids surrounded by pine trees, swaying grasses and huge boulders was amazing. Humming birds buzzed all around us with their mesmerizing wings and shimmering bodies.





In Boulder, we were hosted by an amazing retired couple who built their home on a wildlife reserve for the purpose of hosting people. There were three huge bedrooms upstairs and a porch with a stunning view of the valley and wildlife. They fed us every morning and the kids loved playing with Lucy, their sweet dog and on the "mountain swing."

All in all, it was a rich and enjoyable time. Lots of great pictures, good memories and important conversations. Thanks to all our friends and family who made time to share a meal with us. Thank you to our host family in Boulder. Strangers who are now friends.

Good Days

Her training wheels are off.
We had a great dinner with family. There was strawberry shortcake and BBQ Chicken sandwiches.
He got up early and made me breakfast--before work at 7am. They made cards and a seed holder tower.


I wore my clothes from India and said a prayer for a mother who is part of our lives, yet someone I've never met.

I hope your weekend was lovely, too.

Savor

Yesterday the laundry and dishes and house cleaning and list-making had to wait. We played outside and rode bikes and he pulled the wagon.I'm trying to savor these moments. As cute and sweet and funny as they are, sometimes it's still hard.

Savor is the word of the day, for me. --v. To have a particular savor 2. To appreciate fully; relish.

I was savoring in a moment last Thursday on the Canal downtown. It was sunny and warm. It was quiet. Adam had David at home and I had an hour or so to myself. I took my journal and my camera. As soon as I came near these trees the sweet smell enveloped me. The smell of childhood. The smell of spring. Of new life. Of possibility.


What struck me the most was the extravagant number of flowers on each tree. The branches were literally bending under the weight of flowers! It was like a love note from God, "This is how much I love you: not an adequate amount; not a functional amount; an extravagant amount of love." It's here to savor. To marvel over. To relish.

The Little Things

Our spring break is winding down. We planned on a week doing things around the house and around the city. We didn't plan on fevers and coughs that have lasted all week and spread to two kids and one husband. We've been inside most of the week with some short dashes to the store or other errands.

Yesterday evening brought a much-needed walk for D, E, and me. The sun felt so good, the light was beautiful and nature was bursting with life and color. E took a clip board and pencil to sketch nature as she saw it. She does this often at school and I marvel at her observation skills and confidence. D found all kinds of treasures for me to hold. The frequent pauses were perfect for a curious 2 year-old. Here are some images from our time together:




When we got home, I couldn't help but notice how the sun held this newly planted terra cotta pot in my window.


Wishing you wonder and health and joy this week.

Feelin' it

I've become more intentional lately about making time to be still, listen, write, and read. One of the themes in several of the books I've read or am reading is to let yourself feel. It seems sort of obvious or odd to have to spend time on that topic when it should be one of our most natural behaviors.

Through my kids, I can see the other end of the spectrum. Kids can "see" and feel and feel and function in a completely imaginary world. Their imaginary realities deeply affect their physical reality. We make a seat for the imaginary friend. We hide from the pretend tiger. We dance with the imaginary prince. They slowly move from being surrounded by wonder to becoming deeply aware of the simple physical reality around them. Imagination can fade; emotions tempered to what's real and what's "pretend." Slowly, I find myself not feeling much about my realty and forgetting how to pretend, how to imagine, how to play.

Exercising with a DVD recently, I heard the instructor say, "Feel everything there is to feel with the motion." Feel everything. That's what I try not to do. It would open a can of worms! It would make me too vulnerable, make me even more "high maintenance" that I already am! :)
The hardest thing about feeling, wanting, and dreaming as an adult is the stinging possibility of denial. So we deaden our hearts. Numb ourselves with television, sports, office politics, the weather. Constant droning to silence our hearts. Drown out the voices. We put it off. "One day...maybe when I retire...when the kids are in school...when I have more time."

I'm letting myself feel everything there is to feel. I came close to the emotional cliff and peered over. But I backed away and am on more steady ground. (Long story.) I cry a little more often. I laugh with my kids a lot more often. My house is a little messier. But I know what I want. I know how I feel and what I think. I am letting myself do the things that I've always wanted to try but put off for another day. I feel more myself. More alive. More aware of my limitations and more willing to try and see what happens. I'm less afraid of failure (just a tiny bit less afraid--still more work to do there, I guess). I just don't want to spend my life not living.

I'm in a good place of trying and doing. I just wanted to share that with you. It's been a year since I started this blog. Thank you for being part of this journey with me. I so appreciate your thoughts and comments and support. I'm looking forward to what the road ahead holds for us.

Here are some pictures of my kids--my inspiration and motivation to live well and to live fully present.