Sweet Dreams

Most nights in the last month or so, on one of my many checks, I stand on the end of my kid's bed and take a snapshot.  Often they are out of focus because I'm laughing.  Often the dog wakes and peers up at me, squinting, bleary-eyed at the flash.

  At first, it was to catch the comical way they sprawl, one leg over the other, arms askew.  Different every night.  They seem perfectly comfortable in the most bizarre contortions.

Every time I'd slip in around midnight, knowing I needed to pull the covers up over them, I'd chuckle and go back to get my camera.   I pondered making a little flip book.  Just for fun.  Because it would be hysterical to thumb through.  All those positions.

  But then, as I looked at them and alternately thought how big they looked or how small they looked, (It was both, see) I started to understand that someday I wouldn't be able to peek in to their cluttered room and smile to myself about the way they fell asleep, arms around the dog, spread eagle, curled up tight in a nest of sheets, or holding hands.

 There will come a time, in the not-so-far-away future, that they won't need me to feel their foreheads or tuck them back in, or un-wedge a giant, stuffed seal from under their legs.   I won't be able to take a picture someday.  So I do now.

BrookWalk

When walking up the brook,
Just walk.
Don't think, just step
From rock to rock,
Left to right.
Let it be easy because it is.
Ignore what you perceive
To be slippery, tippy,
Unsteady.
Don't be afraid.

It's when you fearfully watch
Each wet step,
Gauge every mossy stone,
Get off balance in your quest,
Hesitating,
Seeking the perfect landing spot
For your tender foot,
That you lose sight of what
You are doing.
Just walk.

The sunlight will find you,
Dappled, sharp, then soft.
A rhythm will find you,
Content with the choices
You make.
Let go and walk.
You do not control
The stream,
Nor the boulders that break it.
No.  You can't.

Walk as if the river bed is
Nothing more than a road.
And it will be.
The brook will take care of you.
Firm footing always appears
Under your toes
If you trust that it will.
Just walk.
And breathe in and out.
      And do it again tomorrow.

Story Land!

A weekend in the White Mountains, camping and Story Land. (Thank God my sister Jen is more organized than I am. I remembered the tinfoil, but not much else.) The kids went into Overstimulation Meltdown a couple of times and I'm sure everyone in the nearby campsites wished we'd pack up and go back to Vermont, but mostly it was a fabulous little trip. Our campsite was beautiful, right on a river beach that Av, Eli and Ira loved playing on, and Story land was just as fun as it was when I was their age. The weather was hot and perfect, and nobody was bleeding at the end of the day, so I'll count that as a wild success.

July 4th

A scary lightning storm kept us from venturing out to the fireworks display we had planned on attending with friends last night. So, we had ice cream and sparklers at home instead. Happy Fourth Of July!

To Boston, To Boston...

On Saturday we visited Molly and Ana in Boston...and since the boys were too little to remember the last time we went, it was an exciting trip full of new city sights for them! We took the T to see the USS Constitution. (Which was the whole purpose of the trip after Eli became intrigued by a model of the ship in the one-room schoolhouse on the Tunbridge Fairgrounds.) It was an ideal time to tour Old Ironsides, it was all decked out for the holiday and teaming with sailors. The kids were super thrilled about the subway of course. But most of all, they just loved playing with their friend, Ana, at her huge neighborhood pool, where for the first time in their lives, they were the only white kids among the 75 happily splashing and cannonballing kiddos. We had a terrific time, despite my blistered feet! And now it's July! The summer is rolling right along at top speed...how I wish we could tack on an extra month or two.