tucked in my back pocket

The picnic of leftover pizza courtesy of Chef Jim, carrots, and fruit was finished. Never mind that we forgot plates so we pretended the big carrots were our appetizer, pizza our main dish, and fruit dessert so that we could just hold one thing at a time without putting it down. Kids need to learn about improvising, right? The kids had chased each other around the park a while and Jim and Isaac were playing catch. I pulled the bubbles out and asked Audrey and Elliot if they'd like to chase bubbles. They answered with a resounding, "YEAH!!" They ran here and there and everywhere, arms up high, hands swatting, legs kicking at air and the occasional bubble. Isaac could no longer be kept out of the fun so he tossed his glove down to join the bubble party. They marveled at how far the bubbles went and how they floated on the wind. They shouted again and again about being on a wild goose chase as they watched the breeze carry the bubbles through the maze of climbers and to the edge of the forest until they popped on branches.

memorial day smiles at the park

I watched these growing up kids of mine, 8, almost 6, and almost 4, as they reveled in the simple joy of bubbles on a bright, sunny day in May. I blew a bubble and studied them, trying to etch their squealing joy into my memory. I tucked the memory into my back pocket for a day when I'll feel a gorgeous May breeze on my cheek and wish there were bubbles to chase and giggles to hear, sunscreen to slather and wild goose chases to embark upon.

Perfection in the form of a Sunday

I woke to the chirp of the birds, the croak of the frogs, and the gentle breeze stirring outside; a lovely little personal alarm clock. I walked down the stairs to see the sun rising and opened the windows to let the glorious breeze sweep through our house bringing a refreshing hint of summer with it. I read, iced my knee, and relaxed a bit, with the appropriate number of interruptions by a certain 3 year old who likes to be taken to the bathroom and resituated in his room as he waits for his clock to hit the hallowed "seven zero zero." It wasn't long before I heard the unmistakable tromp of Elliot feet making their way down the stairs, followed by the muted steps of his dada who actually moves with intention and would prefer our other two kids are not awoken by a stampeding herd of Elliots.

I snuggled Elliot for a few minutes before getting dressed and heading out to plant some flowers. Hands in the dirt by 7:30 is a great way to start the day. It was slooooow going due to my inability to kneel and the delicious omelette my hubby made for me to eat on the porch and the kids running in and out and Audrey finally waking up and peeking her rosy cheeked, fresh from sweet dreams face out of the door to say she JUST woke up and she loves me and watching two boys perform "I love sausage dances" and watching three kids run marathons around the house in negative 2 seconds and Elliot serving me a glass of orange juice and being so proud that he didn't even take one sip because this boy is known for his fondness for orange juice and awarding medals to the Olympian marathoners, London style.

Slow, yes. Worth it, absolutely. These are the surprises of motherhood. I imagined vacations and milestones, birthday parties and days at the beach. Yet the days I love most are the wide open days where we have a chance to just be and are surprised by the fun that we find and the joy that we make. And by George we found a lot of fun and made a lot of joy before nine in the morning on a perfect little Sunday morning.

Being sufficiently muddied because we live in the land of arks and animals two by two these days and I don't own gardening gloves because I'm a fool, I headed in for a quick shower. Quick because the worth it, slow morning left me 20 minutes to shower and get ready and get all of us out of the door for church. Hoping to leave at 9:30, we were driving away at 9:32 because we are just that good. Or rather, because I am fine going to church with wet hair pulled back in a ponytail. It works in a pinch. (She says, like it isn't a monthly (biweekly) occurrence.)

After church we headed to a park for picnic and playtime. Audrey rushed ahead of us, clutching our picnic blanket, and we turned the corner to see it all spread out for us under a shady tree. She was so proud. We ate a delicious lunch and then the kids headed off to play. Jim lingered for a minute, chatting and watching with me, then he was off to chase kids and play on teeter totters and hide in clubhouses. I stretched out on the orzo-covered blanket and meant to read, but mostly watched. I read a paragraph here and a paragraph there as I listened to the whoop of laughter and the joy of, "Follow me. Catch me. Watch what I can do." The kids, covered in sweat by now, would meander back to me for a much-needed water break, then quickly return to the fun. After a while, I cautiously joined them in the wood chips so they could show me their latest playground feats up close and personal. Finally, it was time to take our sweaty, tired kiddos home to cool down and rest up.

After reading hour we all worked around the house, saying goodbye to stuff that is being donated or trashed and see you later, alligator to toys and books and everything else that we're putting in storage while the house is on the market. The evening ended with Jim staying home with Elliot to enjoy dinner and game night together and Isaac, Audrey, and I went to watch the Lynx trounce all over the Seattle Storm. Audrey even got a high five from Mama Taj, one of her favorite players. Sufficiently exhausted from a full day of all of our favorite things, we drove home in a booming thunderstorm. The kids collapsed into bed after sharing the highlights of the game with Jim.

All smiles

Maya Moore was hitting threes all night long. Here she is at halftime.

Rebekah Brunson coming back from halftime

huddled up in the fourth quarter

What a day. Perfection, I tell you. Perfection.

conversation

We were driving to church yesterday and Elliot mentioned that one of his teeth was hurting and he tried to wiggle it, but it wasn't even loose. I jokingly said maybe his teeth were just tired from all of the gum he chews. His deadpan response? "That's impossible." (dramatic pause) "I chew with my molars."

Point taken. I'm seriously not smart enough to be their mother.

baseball

Oh, how this boy loves baseball. He is certain it's his favorite sport, but it is impossible to tell because his favorite sport changes with the season. But ask him today, it's definitely, absolutely, certainly baseball! We'll see what happens once football season starts.

Our tall, lean boy is on deck
(he was concerned our name wouldn't fit)

Jim got the action shot!

ready at second. He prefers first, catcher, or shortstop 

ready in left center

Always hustling, which makes this mama proud

top of the morning to you

If you're in a foul mood, I recommend feasting your eyes upon this sweet, little, dimpled munchkin.

E's dance costume, I's dance hat from a few years ago, my sunglasses

If you're lucky, like I am, you can hear him wake up each morning singing through the monitor and when you go in to get him on a certain Wednesday, he will reach his arms up to you like parched earth to rain and say, "I just love you." Then you will smile the whole day long.

I think he might like his bowtie

Today he was the first kid up, per his early morning schedule, and there was this bright, light-giving orb in the sky that we hadn't seen in days. Elliot and I took advantage and headed out, bare feet and still in pjs. He brought cars out and we used our chairs for ramps and, oh, how those cars flew. We made silly shadow creatures on the driveway, the silliest being when my feet stomped on his shadow head. He came up with the idea to play walk around the rosy with me. We came in because he was getting hungry to find Audrey and Isaac sitting on the loveseat together reading chapter books, oblivious to the fact that we were playing outside. It was a delightful start to the day. I really couldn't ask for more.

bike riding machine

Training wheels? Oh no. This girl is flying down the sidewalk, wind at her back, park in her sights, two legs pumping, two wheels spinning.

 There is a slight incline on our road and Audrey has a hard time getting going up it by herself so we head down to the flat sidewalk, I plop myself under a tree, and she zooms back and forth, back and forth, wowing me with her speed and agility. What a big, growing up girl!

Mama's Day

The homemade cards noting my awesomeness, all on brown construction paper because we're out of every other colors. The extra big hugs. The kid lips exhausted from holding in Mother's Day secrets. The sunshine brightening an already bright day. The new running skirt and shirt carefully picked out by my three kids who know me so well and wanted me to be ready for the day I can run again. The reusable grocery bags and mesh produce bags lovingly picked out by my husband who has heard me talk about them for ages. The comfy seat in the yard, knee appropriately elevated. The delicious dinner brought by my awesome friend who is a busy, loving mom of three, but was kind enough to feed all of us on Mother's Day.

I had enough Mother's Day highlights to fill up a dump truck. The kids, the hubby, the friends, the weather. A dump truck, I tell you.

singing lullabies to Audrey night of surgery

Isaac and I on Mother's Day

lullabies with Elliot

                                     
But I had to go ahead and throw a wrench in a perfectly perfect Mother's Day. I was stressing about a certain child's misbehavior. I gave my husband a look suggesting we were raising a two headed pit bull trained by a certain redeemed NFL quarterback. I lost my patience. On a day I started my morning in bed praying, Lord, let me embrace these children that we have, accepting their imperfections, building on their talents, loving them unconditionally.

But parenting is full of sticky kisses blessings and head smacking defiance, homemade i luv yu notes love and eye rolling annoyances. Even on Mother's Day. Parenting is a work in progress and no one talks about the days you look at your husband and assess your life and wonder what in the world was I thinking? Giving birth to a newborn is so much different than nurturing a human from those days of utter dependence to the morning they teeter away on their two wheeled bike for the first time to the afternoon you drop them off at their dorm room. And really, who'd have thought the pushing and the ring of fire was the easy part?  Parenting is exhausting and all encompassing and hard. It is also beautiful and silly and miraculous.

And it is so worth it.

So, what was I thinking? At the time I was thinking, my womb is on fire for a baby and Jim and I love each other so much and won't it be beautiful to share this love we have with a baby that has his freckles and my lips, his defined chin and my hands. I was also not-so-secretly hoping at least one would get my blue eyes, but his genes whooped me on that one. Dang genetics.

In retrospect I should have been thinking, This will take a lot of me. I will have to make very hard decisions and I'll mess up a lot and there's no simple formula for success and that'll tick you off and there's no finish line and keeping a marriage going while doing this mom thing will be really hard and you'll actually suck at it, but you married a guy who's patient and loves you enough to wait for you to figure it out and even if you forget, which you will, he'll wait again.

Or maybe that would take away from the beauty and miracle of this amazing road called motherhood. Just as no one can prepare you for childbirth or the first moment you meet your child, whether it's in the delivery room or the orphanage or the airport, no one can prepare you for the personal and family journey that parenting will take you on. It's a road every family and person has to pave themselves.

I hope our road is paved with love and jokes and adventures and simple pleasures like sprinklers and cherry tomatoes from the garden and sledding hills. I hope my intense love lessens the hurt of my mistakes. I hope the depth of my love is felt in what I do and what I say. I hope they always, always, forever know that I love them. Just in case you ever wonder.

Us in all of our silliness on Mother's Day

siblings

There are times mothering three kids is tiring. They are arguing about who gets to wash hands first, never mind that we have four bathrooms, who's bopping the balloon too many times in a row, if we should go to the park or stay home. You know, the little petty arguments that happen in all family units, but are annoying nonetheless. That happens here.

Thankfully, the opposite happens here more often. When they take turns playing perplexus and offer to set the table for the other kid and play baseball in the front yard and grab each other's hands for a show of solidarity when they're nervous in a new situation. That happens here, too. 

Since hurting my knee and now recovering from surgery, my kids have taken their caring to a whole new level. They can tell I'm not feeling great and am unable to do many of the things I've always done. Elliot would prefer I could still hold him while I'm standing. Isaac wishes I could play baseball standing up, but is okay with playing ball with me while I sit on a lawn chair. Audrey remains content snuggling up with me to read or paint toenails, but she also wishes I could carry her.

hanging out after our tour of the state capital

The Lion King at the Orpheum in celebration of Isaac's b-day

Easter Sunday with my honeys

They switch out my ice packs, rub lotion on my feet if I ask really nicely, understand why I have to stay in bed or why I can't teach them at the table. They have been more flexible and helpful and understanding than I could have imagined. It is such a blessing and they are such a joy. They miss their active, strong mama and are doing a great job helping me get back to that mama. How I love them.

3 year old logic

Elliot told Jim that we have three bathrooms. "Actually," Jim replied, "we have four." Elliot got really excited about this information and said, "Then we need another baby. We'll have to grow another one in mama's tummy. . . After her ACL gets better."