Home

"There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again." -Margaret E. Sangster

I remember the old verse, "Thirty days hath September...", but this September has felt like a lot more than 30 days! We have been all over the place, had quite a few people over our place and now we are home!

The past two weekends we have been in Williamsburg, VA and Myrtle Beach, SC while Tim has conducted a Single Soldier Retreat and a Marriage Retreat. We have logged more miles on our old gray van and added more crumbs to the carseats. We have lost many more hours of sleep, despite the ever present Superbed (we push both hotel room beds together)and eaten more pizza than we could handle. But most importantly we have made some memories we won't soon forget.

It's always exciting to set out on yet another adventure. Exciting that is for the 5 minutes between all the packing and planning and preparing and attempting to settle everyone comfortably, with nary a whine, into the car and the moment someone begins lunging out of their carseat, straining against the straps and reaching wildly for handholds. Then the excitement begins to ebb a teensy bit. Once stomachs are full and tired eyes shut for the briefest of snoozes, a warm Starbucks resting in our hands and the open road before us, the light of anticipation flickers once more. We talk and laugh and dream, remembering early days and less complicated times and we've got quite a blaze going. All too soon the stillness is broken. But with relief we see how much good the nap has done and we play a round of "I Spy" or sing the ABC song merrily together. And so goes the rest of our journey.

Cheerful hours marked by swirling emotions and frequent scampering anywhere but in the right direction. Many attempts to create a magical space out of a simple hotel room with two beds and a window. We make blanket forts, pretend the beds are boats in crocodile infested waters, play marching and follow the leader, explore the hotel inside and out, make friends with most of its inhabitants and make an effort to get a nap in the midst of it all. More than anything else these little trips make us appreciate home. A place where there is room to run, space to grow, where people let you be you. So bring on the trips, especially the glad homecomings to follow.

Our Girl

Where has time gone? On golden wings it has flown past before we could catch our breath. Our little Natalie; the baby of our early years is 3 years old. So tall and slim. She has pretty much lost all of the chubbiness, her babyness.

I have been spectator to these changes for many months, how she can barely stretch her legs in her toddler bed, how her pants have begun ankle grazing. I have noticed often with wonder that the look of her is somehow new, different. New but familiar. For in the midst of this blossoming little girl I still see glimpses of that same pink cheeked baby she once was.

In the heat of a struggle to get her own way I watch her eyes soften, her lips change from pout to that same impish grin and I flash to when she was only a bundle in my arms. Those first nights when Tim would swaddle her tenderly and we would sing one more lullaby before settling in her basket to sleep. Calm and quiet, she gazed up at us, serene, composed.

I catch glimpses of that same serenity here and there, coupled now with a tenacity, the urge to push past the limits of her small frame and be something more. At times she will stand up on tippy toes, "See mommy I'm bigger now, I growed up." Others she will whimper for me to hold her like I once did. No longer does she fit so neatly in my arms, it's much harder for her to curl up in my lap. Cuddles are not quite as frequent, for she is busy now. Busy in play and growing up.

At night sometimes I lie in bed, unable to sleep, wondering if I'm doing right by her. I remember the clashes, the new sense of identity she wrestles to understand,my exhaustion and wishing for the agreeableness she once had, then the unexpected hugs, little soft kisses all over my face. "See mommy, I'm walking just like you." "Listen mommy, I will tell you some secrets." "I Love You..You are my special friend!". "We are both the same, mommy; I'm just like you!"

The familiar lump fills my throat and I sink further back on my pillows. In my mind I see her through the years, a crawling infant, then walking, running up and down the hall and now skipping. I race ahead to when she is no longer a girl. What will she be like? Mostly sugar and smiles it's been with her. Lately more and more of a wrestle for power, but still that softness, creeping in and bringing welcome relief, like sunset after a long, hot day. "Okay mommy, I will be a good listener."

Do I wish her back to babyhood? Maybe for a few brief moments each day. It was beautiful, daresay magical those first moments as a mommy to this wonderful girl. But it has only gotten better. Richer. We have grown together she and I. Not yet ready to watch her fly away. Not for awhile longer yet. Right now I will revel in her questions, "Mommy, why is the sky blue?", "Mommy why does Jesus love me?", her cheerful team spirit, "Follow me Moe (her nickname for Adam)I will show you the way", her endless singing of the alphabet song at the top of her lungs in public places, her crazy mop of curls that refuses to be tamed, somehow fitting for a girl like our Natalie.

For a few more years we will make the nightly journey to check on her one last time before turning in, marveling at what a big girl she is now, reminiscing over happenings of the day. We will await her chipper early morning "Hello, mommy!", clambering over me to cuddle in between us, dragging stuffed dinosaur, blanket, pillows and toys to join us. We will treasure a few more rounds of Ring around the Rosy, snatch up a few more bathtime sing a longs and visions of her in footed jammies reading to her stuffed animals. A full, beautiful world awaits you, but for now we are content to have you filling our little home with your magic. Happy 3rd year our little Natalie!

A PSALM OF LIFE

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
A PSALM OF LIFE

WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN
SAID TO THE PSALMIST

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

Max and Ruby

I have always loved celebrations. Birthdays especially. In the past I have made a concerted effort to decorate and plan for cakes and decorations and unique gifts. This year our little Natalie turns 3 and I'm pulling out all the stops. One of Natalie and Adam's favorite shows is one about two bunnies named Max and Ruby. Ruby is the quintessential older sister following goofy bumbling baby brother Max through messy and silly escapades. Exactly like the interactions between our two little munchkins. Maybe that's why they love the show so much. Adam dances in circles saying "Mac" (his pronunciation of Max) in a singsong voice and Natalie clasps her hands and smiles as though enraptured when she hears the familiar strains of the 40's-esque theme song.
How blessed I am to have a creative, fun loving, hardworking partner in Tim. I make all the big plans and find myself unable to put foundations under these "castles in the air" without his help. And so we are planning like school kids, whispering and hiding presents and printing off decoration ideas. I am quite convinced this whole shebang is more fun for the two of us than for Natalie herself!

So I have some grand plans. We'll see how it all turns out and if our little Max and Ruby have as much fun partying as we've had planning...

Four More Minutes

Oh to be a child again with absolutely no concept of time.
To our little Natalie 4 minutes sounds like an adequate amount of time for when naptime will be over, when she can have a snack, when we can watch Popeye.
Four more minutes.

Me:"Natalie, how much longer till your birthday?"

Our Little Curly Haired Wonder: "Four more minutes."

Daddy: "Natalie, when are we going to the playground?"

Natalie: "Four more minutes."

I have been tempted to employ this response myself.

How much longer until I can rest my tired legs and snatch a few winks? Four more minutes sounds good to me.

How much working out before I can get the abs of steel I want? Four more minutes.

About how long will it take me to finish cleaning the house? Why only four more minutes.

I sure wish this method was possible. Anything you are looking forward to or cannot seem to get done? Take heart. Tell yourself it's just four more minutes.