Happy Birthday, 7 years old

Dear Rosemary,

Today you are 7-years-old. As is my normal custom around your birthday, I've been reminiscing about life since you came into it. I've been looking at pictures, remembering stories, drowning in admiration for the personality God gave to you. Let me take this birthday moment to dote: your mom thinks you are a remarkable human being.

I won't be so over-the-top to say there aren't days when I am frustrated, aggravated, exhausted, and so on. There was that day last week when both your dad and I refused to cut your pancakes for you and you ended up eating extremely cold and soggy pancakes after weeping over the travesty. There are those mornings - so many mornings when instead of getting ready for school you are hanging upside down off my bed, singing into the mirror, or just generally disappearing into that oblivion of whatever goes on inside Rosemary-land. There was that brief experiment with the "F" word. And of course all the moments that you want things to be fair for you; yet you want the best of everything.

(Notably, all of these things are so not-funny in the moment, and hilarious in hindsight.)

And then there are those moments. Those other moments. Like all our summer bike rides to the community garden last summer where that grassy hill beat you, and you would climb down from your bike to walk the rest of the way up. It was without whining or complaint; just a silent resolution that walking was the way it had to be done. Until that one sunny day in late June where I turned around to wait for you at the top and noticed you peddling with sheer determination - all the while whispering, "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." And you did.

You conquered that hill. It was the first of many hills for you to conquer this year. About a month before school started up again, you began to have restless nights, stomach aches, and constant worries about first grade. Things were going so well toward the end of the year in kindergarten, but a summer break allowed your fears to grow and you were begging to move, to be home-schooled, to do anything except go back. Until that moment where you decided you "would give it a try." And as much as I knew this wasn't ultimately your decision, feeling like it was your decision made a huge difference. First grade has been such a great experience. You were given the teacher you absolutely needed to nurture you and expect great things from you. She even put me into tears at times with her sensitivity to you and your amazing spirit.

With this newfound confidence in yourself and conquering your fears, you have really taken off. You convinced us you needed glasses for reading and writing, you worked really hard to improve your handwriting, you determined to work your way into the highest reading group - and you did.

That's not to say you are a perfectionist or "super driven." You definitely make the best of a situation and are often (sometimes to my chagrin) completely satisfied with good enough. Occasionally we will give you a "punishment" of no TV or spending time in your room, and you will respond with something like, "That's okay. I was hoping to draw this afternoon, anyway." Or, "I was feeling like I hadn't been spending enough time in my cozy bed lately, anyhow." I am sure that attitude will help you greatly in life ... as soon as you learn to keep the thoughts to yourself.

You learned to downhill ski this year, and I think the stress of that experience gave me my first grey hairs. You did great, but it wasn't without a few horrifying moments. Most notably the one where you forgot to slow down at the bottom and the other one where you forgot to get off the lift at the top. I didn't expect you to get so good so quickly, but you were skiing down black diamonds by the end of the season.

You remain one of the sweetest, most sensitive kids on the planet. While we were doodling together one evening, I drew a picture of a kitten that happened to look a little sad and you burst into tears. Your great-grandma Elayne passed away this past fall, and you were deeply concerned about being strong and not crying through the funeral. You had so many questions, but handled it like a champ - despite my explanation that it is perfectly okay to cry and it's not a sign of strength or weakness if you do or don't. You were very proud of yourself about the whole thing, and then a couple days later, you burst into tears because the picture of a panda on a cereal box was "just so cute."

So while your love of animals is fantastic, we may have to work on humanity ... I won't even go into your confusion surrounding cremation and the fact that during the funeral you asked, "When will we see her body go into flames?" Thank God we knew Elayne was looking down on us with love and laughter.

These days, as you are growing older, losing so many teeth (6 as of today) and looking more and more like a jack-o-lantern (er, I mean an adult), I am ever-conscious of how fleeting these days are. It occurred to me this morning that you will probably spend more birthdays of your life waking up in your own home than you will in mine. It makes me a little sad that I can't hold you close and keep you with me forever; but it also makes me so excited to think about who you will become and what you will do with your life.

You are funny, clever, smart, artistic, creative, energetic, sarcastic, compassionate, cuddly, edgy ... and you are only going to grow into a more awesome human being. I am so excited to watch that develop, and so hopeful that I will always get to be a part of it. As you grow increasingly self-aware, and the word "embarrassing" pops out of your mouth more and more, I hold onto your hand a little tighter each time you grab it. I know it's possible that those moments may grow fewer and further between. I hope that you never think you have to "go it alone," but know that you always have someone to hold your hand. In whatever way, shape, or form that will take, I will always be there to guide you - and sometimes to follow as you guide me. You are a part of my heart and my soul and I love you to the moon and back.

Love, your mommy forever.

The Way We Roll

I feel a bit like a stranger to my own blog. Sometimes the writer in me goes on a little vacation, and then I forget she's there. It's interesting to be 34-years-old - a mom - and still feel like such a little kid at times. I wonder what it is about us that we give young people the impression that we have it all together and know what we're supposed to be doing with our moments. I am constantly amazed that I manage to contribute in keeping a house over our heads, clothes on our bodies, food in our bellies - that I feel so foreign to all of this and yet I am raising a child. How did I get to be a part of that crazy blessing?

It's something I have been thinking about since I turned 34, when my mom gave me a birthday card with a list of all the things she had yet to accomplish in her life at my age. I was just about to begin this new teaching job and my mom's insight was touching. It helped me realize how little credit I give myself. Many of us spend a lot of time feeling like we haven't done what we're supposed to, we haven't done enough, we aren't as good as we are supposed to be. But I think we don't realize how much time some of this takes.

I have a list of things I thought I would or might be: a speaker, a poet, a doula, a parent of multiple children, a world traveler, a teacher, a writer, a seamstress, a good cook, a baker, a knitter, an advocate for the environment, an activist, a stay-at-home mom, a gardener, a blogger, a friend, a wife, a hiker, a camper, a person with passion, a person with free-time, a dog trainer, a scrap booker, a barista, a reader, ... To be honest, it kind of freaks me out that the list could be any longer. Pa Ingalls was a farmer. He decided to be a farmer and he did it. In the modern day, we get to try so many things, make a lot of mistakes; and then try some more things.

I'm not sure which formula I like better. Were we designed for one thing? Are there so many options that we lose the ability to find our true passion? Some of the things on my list things are pipe dreams. Some of these things I have done and disliked. Some I have done and loved. Some of them have been kept from me no matter how much I try, and some I could have done a lot better.

This teaching gig has been good. I mean I really, really like it. It's an abundance of work. The amount of research and reading I am doing speaks volumes to how much easier this would have been had I started teaching straight out of college; not running away and allowing myself to get rusty on the subject. I come home from work feeling spent and can sometimes hardly wait to get to bed. My family has been patient and understanding with me as I've occasionally put them on the back burner in an effort to be "more prepared." I'm learning how to balance that and am mindful of putting my family first. I'm watching this incredible kid called Rosemary grow up before my eyes, and I don't want to miss out or look back and wonder where I was. I love my husband a lot and would hate to think our marriage is something I took for granted.

Teaching has been a good fit for me and it's shocking to look at all the things I care about, and feel like I need to decide what to care about most. I don't want to love and do everything, and be spread thin. I would rather do a few things really well.

All of a sudden, I feel like it looks like I'm writing a goodbye to this blog ... which is not the case at all (and would probably be kind of silly since most of my readers probably think I said goodbye long ago)! I like this place and intend to keep it.

I guess I'm just rambling because [seriously] it was my intention to come here and post a picture of a romper that I finished knitting in January. I don't have a thesis (something I spent most of January teaching the importance of). My audience is simple - you and me. My purpose? I'm sure so many of us are in the same place: Growing up. Really growing up and realize it's nothing like we expected it to be.

It's not better or worse, it's just something that is. It's easy to do too much and it's easy to do too little. I'm still working to figure out what's just right, and each day I think I'm getting a little closer to that knowledge. We're all such neat people, and we all have great things to share. If we're always spreading ourselves thin, we are going to miss so much of life.

Oh yes, here's that romper:

 

Oh, Heavenly Snow Day!

This wonderfully snowy weekend was topped off with a snow day Monday. Both the child and I get the day off as a result and I am just giddy with the glistening white, and the busy neighborhood kids making the most of this day.

Yesterday we picked out and cut down our tall, skinny Christmas tree (my favorite kind! I like a little Charlie Brown effect) and Rosemary dragged the whole thing back to the barn. Tell me she's really not old and strong enough to do that!

We made snow angels.

And later, Joel and Rosemary built a pretty cool fort. Don't be deceived by the blades of grass you see below, we ended up getting almost double what you see in the pictures.

Today all the neighborhood kids had fun destroying the fort and frolicking about. I am working on my 2nd batch of caramels and am about to sit down to work on a knitting project. It's a good life.

Book it!

Did any of you do Book It! in elementary school? Oh, how I loved reading books and getting paid in pizza. What a win/win. Reading is fun and it gets you a night out with good food.

Anyhow, I generally don't get rewarded for reading books these days, but what does that matter? The reward is in reading itself! And, here's a list of what I've read lately, and what I thought about it.

Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist

This book was great. I'm not entirely sure why I can't get a clear picture to download, but I'm going to go with it and move on. The subtitle for this book is "Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way." I would call it a memoir, and a really good book for anyone who has ever spent time in deep thought over the lessons we learned the hard way. There are so many books in the "Christian" genre that make me roll my eyes, but this is one that helped me appreciate my faith and the community that comes with it. I gave it 5 stars on Goodreads, but I'll be honest, there were a couple moments in the book where - while I loved what she was saying - I couldn't figure out where she was going with it and why it was in the book. If Goodreads gave a half option, I would have given it 4 1/2 stars. It started and finished with a bang, and the snippets in between were definitely worth reading.

Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis

This is a re-re-reread for me. I've read The Chronicles of Narnia so many times I've lost count. It started as a simple series of books that I checked out of the local library, as a child in elementary school, and turned into a classic that I return to time and time again. It is exciting to read these to Rosemary and only seems to be deepening my appreciation. I read The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe to her about a year ago and it was great, but this next one seemed to be over her head. So we put it away until recently, and it was definitely worth the wait. It's one of the greats in the series.

The Paris Wife by Paula McLain

This might be my top book of the summer. Maybe of the year. I love good historical fiction, and this was so well written and completely captivating. I have never really like Ernest Hemingway; but because of this book, I have started rereading his works. Looking at Hemingway's life and story through his 1st wife, Hadley's eyes brought it to life and renewed my interest in all the greats of the time. I even ran out to rent Midnight in Paris because of this book (Midnight in Paris is a great movie as well, but I digress). Hemingway is fairly despicable and Hadley was pretty naive - it came together well in this book.

A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

A great book to read after The Paris Wife, Hemingway writes about his life in Paris and brilliantly disguises his many, many faults ... but if you know him, or know anything about him, they are incredibly evident. They say the most creative people are not always able to see outside their own boxes, and Ernest Hemingway is such a classic example. I am able to step back and admire his audacity, but if I had been alive during this amazing era in Paris, I'm sure Hemingway and I would have had many terse conversations ... and he probably would have beaten me to a pulp in this book.

Monster by Walter Dean Myers

Hmmm. What to say about Monster? It's one of the books on my reading curriculum at school, and since I'd like to know what my students are reading, I listened to the audiobook. This is a book about a young man who may or may not have been involved in a botched robbery that turned into a murder. We get to decide for ourselves whether or not we think he's guilty, and my conclusion is that he is. It's an interesting story of a boy who might or might not have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He's trying to take a good hard look at himself, but he's afraid of what he might see. Somebody once told me that a person's potential for greatness is just as great as his potential for evil, and I think it comes across well in this book. It's probably a good book for a struggling reader, especially if the topic is interesting, but as for me ... I'm undecided. A couple of times I felt like there was an underlying message or two, but whatever messages they were didn't come across that well.

On that note ... I guess I've been reading a lot, lately. I'm looking at my list and I have 6 more to write about! I'll take a break there, and pick up another day.

Have you read any of these books? What did you think? Also, what have you been reading ... do you have any good recommendations for me?

Thanks for stopping by!

Another season

Welcome to September 10. Wait ... What? Here's an apology for the following cliché: Summer flew by.

We're talking maximum speed, out of control, zippity-do-dah, summer went fast. It feels like a blink ago that I was figuring out what we would plant, and we're already past the too-hot-didn't-get-enough-water-amazed-we-got-anything-at-all-just-how-many-cans-of-spaghetti-sauce-will-my-husband-make-all-by-himself-without-complaining season.

I'm a little nervous that this is what summers will be like now that I have a school-aged child, and I have made a mental note to figure out how to savor a little more and do a little less next summer.

Also, this may seem completely out of left field for some of you out there, but I went and got a job this summer. A teaching job. I'm teaching 9th grade English and Language Arts. It's part-time, but let's not be fooled by that word because teaching will take as much time as you give it and so far, I've given it nearly every waking moment. It's exciting and scary and different, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it leads. I consider it a major plus that commitment-phobe-me has not even given a first thought to backing out. I'm lucky to have a very supportive family, and I actually believe I can do this.

So that's where life is at, in a nutshell. I'd like to offer myself a hearty "Welcome Back." As for the rest of you out in blog-land, I'm looking forward to catching up! While it seems like it's only been minutes, I know it's been far too long.

Summer Lovin' Had Me a Blast

It's summer here. Summer in Minnesota (or Wisconsin, as I'm still coming to terms with the fact that I'm not currently a "Minnesotan") is a fleeting beauty. It comes, everyone gets giddy, and then we all try to squeeze so much excitement into each day that it's gone before we know it.

I saw back-to-school supplies in Target the other day and my response was to loudly exclaim, "NO WAY." Perhaps in other parts of the world it's not such a big deal, but when you live in this part of the world, back-to-school supplies are symbolic of the end being here and most of us dread the end.

So as much as I love blogging, right now is the time for playing, soaking up the sun, visiting friends and family, and just embracing the season in any way possible.

So far I have:

* read a lot.
* visited with lovely friends from across the globe.
* enjoyed a trip to the Mountain Bike Festival in Cuyuna Lakes.
* spent an incredibly sunny, warm 4th of July in our old 'hood with good friends.
* assisted my husband to Rochester, MN so he could have half his thyroid removed (all is well, thank the Lord!).
* spent a week at my mom's so Rosemary could go to our churches VBS, Hero Training Camp.
* helped Rosemary raise painted lady butterflies, and then a bunch of monarchs.
* eaten delicious lettuce and peas from our garden.
* spent a lot of time at the garden.
* planted and tended to the flowers on our front porch.
* strawberry picking, raspberry picking, canning, canning, canning.
* enjoyed community pools with awesome people.
* eaten a lot of ice cream.
* rode a jet ski.
* enjoyed probably too many BBQs.
* explored the Franconia Sculpture Garden.

And I'm sure I'm missing something ... but I can't help feeling like I'm missing something else right now. Until next time blog friends, I hope those of you who can are enjoying this time of year as much as me!

{this moment}

{this moment}  - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. 

A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' for all to find and see.