letters. . .

Inspired by this Robert Guest's letters to his children. And maybe I don't have the chance to write daily. . . it is my intention to try this once a week (I feel a start to next year's birthday list. . .).

Dear Jack:

You are growing so much. . . so fast. . . right before my eyes. . . Dada and I have been looking at past family portraits. . . Ones where you were so small, and I could never imagine you bigger. And yet, here you are, bigger. And Luke now the size you once were. . .

And amazing. I can't tell you how many times I stop dead in my tracks: jaw dropping, amazed. To see you becoming. Watching you learn how to read, and spell. . .

And even though it seems that we fight nightly about this whole homework thing (you, the perfectionist; me, trying to ease you out of that terrible trait Dada and I share), I am so proud of you.

See the leaves in the picture? Tuesday, you and Luke and Max and I went on a walk around the neighborhood to gather leaves. You thought maybe we could just pick some in the backyard (for a school assignment). But, I thought maybe we could find lots of different ones around the neighborhood (and Max needed a walk). So many beautiful leaves. Big ones (you found a huge green and yellow that you carried carefully the whole way). And tiny guys. Talked of making a leaf book. . . And wondered what you might do with them in school. . . Chilly. . . And we were tired at the end. But loved walking along with you guys. With no other distractions. Just us. Talking about everything and nothing.

Last night, out Luke's bedroom window, Dada watched a helicopter land on the hill above us. He called to you and I to come watch. After we ran breathlessly up the steps, he suggested you put on your coat so you could both run up the hill and see it up close. So cool. What a lucky boy you are to have such an adventurous Dada. So, you quickly put on your shoes and coat (asking me a million questions in the process; but I wouldn't have expected anything else from you, buddy). And out into the cold night air you both disappeared. Ready for adventure.

Right now, you love Star Wars. Everything Star Wars. Coloring characters and cutting them out. Making Star Wars Lego creations. Playing with your little Obi and R2D2 figures. Running around the house in your Clone Trooper helmet. Swinging that light saber with wild abandon. . .

And, the latest: the Star Wars music on Rhapsody. It seems, you have a weakness for that discoish 70s music (and let me tell you, I was not happy with this as I hummed The Hustle all through Youngwood on today's AM stroll). Star Wars and Boogie Down (because it sounds like a robot talking. . .thanks Dada). The best part? The dancing. Love it. You run around the house, rolling Ninja style on the floor. Clapping to the beat (at least, your beat). Rolling your hands. Hopping. Jumping. Grooving. And Happy. Loving it.

Loving you.
Mama

sweet moments. . .

Last night. . . Thursday night. . . Sam had his annual business meeting and work . . . which means he comes home very close to bedtimes. . . So, the boys and I were on our own for the evening. . .

and it got crazy for a little while. . .

and then Lukey got out the felt boards. . . tubbies and the wizard of oz. . . and we laid them out on the living room floor. . . tv off. . . quiet moments. . . laughing about nothing and everything in a little boy's world. . .

popped some popcorn. . . and read some Halloweeny stories:
There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Bat (just read the fly version last week for the first time. . . and the boys loved it so much we read it four times in a row. . .)
The Meanies (and the three other books in the series. . .)
Too Many Pumpkins (a Kindergarten teacher purchase. . . loved it then, love it now. . .)
and, after some pumpkin curiousity (the boy of many questions, Jack: What do we do with the pumpkins after Halloween? Do they melt away?) we read The Pumpkin Circle that shows the life cycle of a pumpkin. . . from seed to plant to pumpkin to melting away. . .

We read stories and had a wonderful time till Sam came home. Love these evenings with the tv off, and just time together.

Tonight. . . soccer practice. . . shopping for Nan and PapPap's birthdays. . . Clone Wars. . . and bedtime. . .

Luke's storytime. . . we read Over in the Meadow (Mama's choice. . .we both love that one. . . it was one we read in my college elementary literature class. . . loved it then, and made it a point to have it on our bookshelf). . . Luke chose Love you Forever. . . Somehow, before the boys came along, I had never read this book. Had seen it on the shelf, but never read it. After Jack was born, my dear friend Gracie brought me this story on her first visit to see him. And the first time I read it, I cried.

Big, fat Mama tears.

And every time I read it, I cry. Big, fat, sobbing mama tears.

We read it tonight. Tears and all.

That was a great story. He said.

I agree, buddy.

good morning, monday. . .

why did you make my weekend fly by so quickly? So eager to greet us once again. . . you made Saturday and Sunday mere dreams drifting away from my stretching fingertips. . . disappearing into the mist of my memories. . .

Max and Dude and I enjoyed our morning walk. . . even in the dark. . . crunching through some fall leaf goodness. . . morning music. . .

And morning coffee and quiet before the boys rise. . . Enjoying some of my favorite family stories. . .

Sheye Rosemeyer for beautiful photography. . . and poignant stories that make me hug my babies a little tighter, cherishing every moment. . .

Nora Griffin for some scrapbookery inspiration. . .

and SouleMama for more beautiful photography. . . and simple living. . . good cooking. . . and creative moments with family. . .

A quick ten minutes. . . and I run upstairs to help Jack greet a new week. . .
finding him curled up with his feet on his pillow. . . so cozy in his spiderman pj's (love that he used to call them jj's). . .

Breakfast and lunch making. . . time for a quick story on the porch before the bus arrived (Wiggles by the author of Click, Clack, Moo! and Duck for President. . . a definite Zeli favorite. . . Wiggles was also very cute). . .

And now, while the dishwasher hums away in the kitchen and Franklin is off on an adventure (that song has been playing in my head all weekend. . . did you know you can make up words to that song to fit any situation. . . hey it's Maxie. . . chewin his bone. . . ). . . And I'm making a plan for the week.

Thinking maybe we'll grocery shop tomorrow. . . Laundry today. . . Although I'm peeking at the ads and thinking maybe I should grab some Star House sales (a bit of pre-Christmas shopping) today.

But, it's Monday. . . all too soon. . . and I'm wishing my coffee cup was a little fuller, and the sun not quite so high over the mountains in the distance. . .

Jack's Thursday evening highlights. . .

would not include homework. . .

But, he bounced off the bus happily. And scampered off, grinning as soon as he bounced to the porch. Such a beautiful day, I thought we could approach that whole homework thing later (yep, not so much easy anymore. . .oh well. . .).

In the front door.. . .

Out the back door. . .

Muffled giggles. . . Running steps. . . .

And I found this:

a mysterious note. . .

too cute.

Spent the evening watching the final Star Wars. A little past bedtime, but he loved it.

I guess we know now why they call him Dark Vadar. Cause he joined the Dark Side.

Ah, it makes so much sense now. . .

But, what didn't make so much sense was why they burned Dark Vadar at the end. . . Did they want to make him more died? Ah. . . . And I foolishly though telling him it was an old Viking custom, and that Luke was actually honoring him. . . thought it might make a little more sense. . .

Nope, only brought more questions. And fearful eyes when he asked if they still do that today.

Ah, well. The harder side of parenthood. The questions. . . And he has asked them nonstop for two years now. He definitely is a knowledge seeker. Love that. . . Even if the questions short circuit my brain. . .

a warm morning. . .

the world quiet. . . sung to blissful dreams by the melody of crickets. . .

how peaceful it seems this morning. . .

even fuzzy Dude kept up her pace. . . alive and happy. . .
running with the ease of a puppy. . . a puppy at heart in her 13 year old frame. . .

joy before the dawn. . .

the firetruck show. . .

Took the boys to Westmoreland Mall last night to see the fire trucks. I guess they have this show every year. But, this is the first year I wrote down the date and made sure we went.




Wow! As we pulled into the parking lot, the ladder trucks climbed high into the darkening sky. The day was growing more quiet. . . but here, the lights were bright and flashing. . . and little boy eyes sparkled, mouths O'ed in delight. . .



We wandered, gypsies in this land full of boy dreams. . . hot dogs and popcorn. . . balloons. . . hats and stickers and treasures. . . all clenched tight in their fists. . . so quiet. . . taking in the grandeur. . .




Trucks. . . A boat. . . Police cars. . . Tools and hoses. . .

And, joy! Lukey found signs. . .

Feeling so small in this magical world. . .

an aspiring national geographic photographer. . .

OK, silly little secret. . . I've always wanted to be a National Geographic Photographer. . .

And, with very little photographic skills, this opportunity just hasn't materialized yet. . .

But, yesterday, while letting Max outside, opportunity presented itself. . .

You know those nature gone wild shots? Really took my life into my hands with these. . .

Taking my Canon little guy at full zoom, I sat outside on the front lawn. . .

waiting for this bee to get tired of me poking my camera at him

and fly up and let me really know what he thought of my intrusion. . .

Mama Paparazzi that I am. . .

But, I sat for about 20 minutes trying out some things. . . pretending that we were actually in the middle of Africa. . . he, the wild elephant. . .

on a daisy. . .

and I, the daring photographer on assignment. . . waiting for poachers. . .

or wild daisy hunters. . .

to show up and threaten our safety. . .

Far fetched?

yesterday's numbers. . .

A good day in the number world for us yesterday.

[finally broke out the pedomoter to find out actually how far we walk in the morning. . .]

2804 steps. . .
1.6 miles each morning. . .
over 7 miles a week. . .

grocery game goodness:
watched the cashier total me at 109ish dollars. . .
gave her my stack o coupons. . .
giant eagle grocery total: 78.78
total savings (with coupons and store savings): 54.24

Yay, baby!

Oh, and 50 cents waiting to be used on gas.

This is what motherhood has done to my brain. . .

humming a tune. . .

Every morning I find myself humming a tune as the dogs and I set out on our early morning adventures. Usually it's some little ditty that Lukey has been singing in his preschool class. The past couple weeks I have been humming

Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.
Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.
Wrinkle up your little nose.
Put a nut between your toes.
Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.

Either Miss Lynn would be proud. . .or afraid. . . But I can't seem to get that song out of my head.

Until this morning. . . .

I was humming along on my way. Not really paying attention. Just singing along.
Watching quirky DMZ quickly disapper down a side road with his dogs before I get too close (yep, he's definitely a story for another day).

Humming. Strolling. Keeping up our pace. Turn left. Check out the pumpkin and spider lights. Getting closer to the real haunted house. And that's when I notice it.

The song.

The song I have been humming since I left the house.

Rolling Stones. Paint it Black.



You know the song? The one that accompanies Kevin Bacon through Stir of Echoes. What the heck is wrong with me? Am I trying to entice the spirits out to me on the street?

Dear Sam asked me last night if a head lamp would make me feel better as we had our morning walk.

Ha!

So sweet. So naive.

Told him that perhaps a cross, some holy water, and maybe a stake might do it.

He suggested I bring Blade with me.

Now he's talking. . .

mama rule #152

You must hold my hand when we are crossing the street (or parking lot).

This rule is usually met with wild screams of let me go! No! I do it! As I look desperately down hoping not to be accused of kidnapping my own, wild child.

Master Luke believes that holding his own hands should count as following Mama Doctrine.

Creative.

Cute.

Good try, buddy. Not with this Mama.

this little face. . .

aaachhooo! . . . .

aaachhooo! . . . .

(he inherited his Dada's sneezing patterns)

and a little face, covered in a big white kleenax, peeked at me over the back of the couch.

[blowing his nose]

I throw garbage.

And he walked it to the kitchen garbage.

Pod people escaped with my real baby boy this morning as I walked, I just know it.

good morning, monday. . .

why did you hasten away our weekend, so fast?

My resolution this week is to blog every day. Really? Yep.
Get ready posts about our exciting week of washing clothes and vaccuuming Max's chewed sticks on the floor (or, light sabers that Jedi Max has chewed).

Today's highlights?

Walked this morning. Actually made it out of bed without tripping drunkenly around the dogs and yesterday's laundry. How is it that sleep. . .a full night's sleep. . .leaves you feeling so unawake in the morning?

Anyway. We rocked the walkin world this morning while everyone was still in their cozy beds. Usually we are almost run over by a dozen cars in the morning. Today? Only two. Less lights on in windows. No sweet laundry smell over by the haunted house.

Thanks so much Lisa for telling me about the real haunted house on our walk. Now I try not to look at it as we pass by so it really doesn't know that we know it's terrible little secret. So, the loud banging doesn't decide to meet us out on the street as we race past it's sinister, yet oh so lovely, french doors. . .

Yep, I walked through the darkness quite spooked this morning. I guess that it doesn't help that it's Halloween. . . And there are lots of houses decorated on our morning walk. . . Which is really cool. Love the whole Halloweeny thing. Except that one house (other than the real haunted one), which is decorated with body parts and zombies and skeletons and some sign up in the tree which I immediately quit reading when I saw the words eat and skin. Blaaahhhh. . . .

Anyway. Busy washing Sam's shirts for his trip tomorrow. Overnighter in New York and me and the boys are on our own, baby. Look out.

Also: laundry, laundry, and more laundry.

Lots of pics to upload. And my class to listen to.

Grocery game shopping. Walsmack and Giant Eagle. Maybe Target? And pondering a visit to the Star Houe (aka Toys R Us) for a preChristmas peek. October just begins that holiday joy in me. Once they start, these three months just race from one into the other. So exciting.

Anyway, did I mention I have laundry to do?

Ready, set. . . go, Monday!

a new day in legoland. . .

full of official storm troopers and a dark vadar (sometimes darf vadar. . .). . .

Dada, still humming with creativity, created a few more good guys:

Chewbaca (brought to you today by a severly chewed and therefore retired fuzzy monkey dog toy). . .

and Yoda (yet another creation brought to you today by Dada's old khaki pants). . .

Also, on the good guy ship we find Indy (aka Hans Solo, but not on this end of the galaxy), Princess Leia (who used to be the Indy bad guy girl), Obi Wan Kanobee (who used to be a SpaceMan sporting heavy five o'clock shadow), a deep sea diver, two boneses (who might look like bad guys, but are definitely good guys. . .one who is using the Indy whip, the other a crossbow. . .all kinds of weapons around here), and a knight with a race car helmet using a harpoon. . . Lots of hard-working, fighting the good fight good guys. . . who may be outnumbered by almost triple the amount of bad guys. . . but are not willing to give up. . .

Lots of shooting. . . light sabering. . . going on today. . .

Also in the middle of salvaging pieces to create the Millenium Falcon. . . Zeli-style, of course. . . using some online instructions and our own ingenuity. . .

Fun times.

an old pair of pants. . .

some duct tape. . .

a cereal box. . .

and some recycled white paper. . .

. . .30 cents. . .

The chance to be a real storm trooper: priceless. . .