Trouble Bears

I laughed so hard when I saw this. Not long ago, I told the thrilling story of the time I was lost in the forest. This was during the time when Edward and I, in our college days, would load up our little truck with chips, peaches, and mountain dew, and take off for the mountains in Wyoming. Continue reading

Time Out

We are kidnapping our children. Taking them off road. Making them listen to Jimmy Buffet, and maybe some Jewel. We are stealing them from practices of all kinds, and games. From their friends, and television. And cell phones.

We’ll hike, and fish, and do the campfire thing. Daddy will begrudgingly let the kids do S’mores, even though he hates the whole messy process. We’ll laugh, and talk, and nap. No where we have to be at any certain time. No obligations.

Good bye dear Blogging friends. I will miss you. But, I really can’t wait to have my family all to myself, if only for just a few days. These kids are slipping through our fingers. We won’t always be able to declare Time Out. And force our music on them at the same time. 🙂

 

I Hope You Don’t Mind

I’m remembering lately. I have one foot here, and one foot there.

Do you remember your blue barracuda that we rode “the loop” in, self-proclaimed king and queen of everything….in our small town? Of course you do. You still talk about that car.

Do you remember me crying all the way to college? I do. And I just remember your hand holding mine.

Do you remember what an oven our first apartment was in the summer? And you got mad at me, for leaving our bed, and retreating to the cold cement floor. The next day, you went and spent money we didn’t have on a window air conditioner. That still makes me giggle like crazy.

I remember sitting at our small kitchen table…you trying so hard to teach me Algebra. Do you remember the day you realized it was hopeless?

I remember the way I used to make fun of  John Denver, and how you made me love him…so much that I sing Annie’s Song to our children at night.

Do you remember taking time to make a route across the campus for me so that I didn’t get lost on the first day of classes, and walking me through it? I still got lost.

Thank you for taking me to the mountains. And for teaching me how to fly fish. Do you remember that summer that we were caught in an unexpected blizzard, stuck in our tent for the whole day with only each other and sleeping bags to keep warm? We took turns reading All Creatures Great and Small to each other. As memories go, that one gets a gold star.

I remember a friend hurting my feelings. I told you. You told me to not take things so personally, and to stop being so sensitive.

But, do you remember going behind my back, and telling them off? There are few things like that I remember, but I won’t ever forget that.

I remember when we saw our little girl for the first time. Just a small little funny shaped green button on a black screen. And you told me it was ok to cry. And so did you.

And I love that you brought me roses, and the nurses roses, too. Because you were so happy that she and I were ok after a tough and dramatic delivery.

And I love that you started the tradition of giving our babies baths to ENYA music. Do you remember ? Sounds of Memory of Trees and Orinoco Flow mixed with splashing and baby gurgles floating from our bathroom.

Do you remember the day you went back to work after Oldest Boy was born? And I was left alone with TWO babies? I’ll never forget your face as you walked out the door. Clearly doing battle in your head about your responsibilities at work, and your worry for me. It was somewhere between a bemused grin, and an anxious smile.

I called you 14 times that day.

I love traveling to new places with you. I love that you drove like a maniac in Italy even though we didn’t know where we were going. And that you surprised me with that trip, because you love surprising me. Do you remember our first time eating at Mon Ami Gabi’s in Vegas? And that eccentric couple we played black jack with? They made us laugh so hard we couldn’t even talk.

The Meanest Flower

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting

The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,

Hath had elsewhere its setting,

And cometh from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come

From God, who is our home.

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;

We will grieve not, rather find

Strength in what remains behind;

In the primal sympathy

Which having been must ever be;

In the soothing thoughts that spring

Out of human suffering;

In the faith that looks through death,

Thanks to the human heart by which we live,

Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,

To me the meanest flower that blows can give

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

-Bits and pieces taken from”Ode: Intimations of Immortality” by William Wordsworth

For the full poem, Click HERE*