La Floride!

I have heard the word sugar used to describe the sands on Florida's beaches but I didn't realize how true it was until last week. Shawn and I took the kids for a mini getaway to Panama City Beach. We had planned on staying in Pensacola which is not quite three hours from us. With the issue of oil dotting some of the shores, we decided to go a bit further. It was a good decision and we loved our time at the beach. I had fallen asleep in the car and I woke up to Shawn saying softly, "We're here." We were on the final stretch that runs along the beachfront. In the most cliche way, I rolled down my window, closed my eyes and just let the sound and smell overwhelm me. I don't just love the ocean, I am IN love with it. I always have been and I always will be. It is a friend and a comfort to me. And no matter how long we are away from each other, we always pick up where we left off. I turned with tears in my eyes, and feeling like a complete nut asked Shawn if we could stay forever. He smiled and without teasing me for my emotional display, simply put his arm around me and said, "Yes." He knew I would eventually return to reality and figured humoring me would harm nothing. He's cute like that.

Naptime for Twins

The twins are finally napping. Sam is teething and Charlotte was overly tired and therefore having a hard time falling asleep. When they were smaller, I could rock them both to sleep in my arms. Now that they are bigger, we have to take turns. Though they each have a turn now for me to shamelessly moon over them, I can't help but be ever aware of the other baby standing in their crib with that "what about me, mommy?" look on their face. The one consolation to this dilemma is that a lullaby can reach and soothe them both. There is a reason that the power of a lullaby stretches beyond just a tune or string of words. I love that in one breath, I can convey what would otherwise become a wordy message. I can tell them there is peace and calm and safety all around them. I love that a mothers (fathers, aunts, etc.) voice may be weak or strong, controlled or raw, but all that little one will hear is love. There are times where my mouth sings the words though my mind is still detained by the craziness of the day. There are other times though, where I am aware of each little finger and toe and revel in the classic battle between their minds desire to be awake and their body begging for rest. Where I can let the magic of watching a little one fall asleep completely surround me. Why , oh, why do they have to grow so fast?!

Last Night

When my husband is away, I can be sure that what starts as me lying down alone in a big bed, becomes an artful human basket weave of arms, legs fingers and toes as the number of sleeping bodies multiplies by morning. Truthfully, I look forward to this. I like knowing that my little ones are tucked in around me safe and warm. I woke to the sound of one of the kids murmuring something in their sleep. It is sure that all children seem angelic as they sleep. As I lay there I was able to truly study their little faces; something you can't do so easily with the constant motion of their little bodies during the day. Each of them carried their own expression. Stinky Pete's face carried the subtle smile of a four year old satisfied with the completion of an adventurous and mischief filled day. Maddie's face was peaceful though her mouth seemed poised to finish the sentence that sleep had kept her from the night before. And Abi, my complex Abi, carried an expression of melancholy in her brow. It has been especially hard for her to be so far from her best friend this year. I wished I could take that sadness from her.

Each glance allowed me vivid replay of their individual journeys over the course of their young lives. I felt satisfied as I watched them take in deep, rhythmic breaths. I could convince myself that even for a moment, the spinning of the earth would slow and somehow buy me time to keep them this close forever. At least our hearts have the depth to hold these precious moments where our memories sometimes fail us. These are the shining moments in my life. I am truly grateful.

Yesterday

Today was one of those days. The kind where from the moment you awake, it feels like the day is waiting with a sweatband on ready to make you run faster and harder and longer than you want to. My kids are awake early, already asking for pancakes on a morning where pouring milk and cereal into bowls seemed reasonable yet somewhat ambitous. It is not a feeling of unhappiness, just that of being truly tired. I know I am blessed and watched over. I know I am doing the most important work EVER. As I stood over the sink, an image of my Grandma King popped into my mind. And when I think of her, I can't help but smile. She is one of the most amazing women I know. While Grandpa handled the responsibilities of a Ranch, Grandma cleaned, cared for her children, kept a large garden and cooked (not just for her family but several ranch hands) each day. She knows the art of sewing, quilting, frugality and resourcefulness. She is a teacher and always emphasized the importance of reading. Some of my most warm memories are of visiting with her. She is down to earth, straight forward, and kind. She always has a hug ready and a listening ear. Her home has always been one that I know I am welcome in and offers a neverending source of peace. So as I finished cleaning the kitchen, I felt grateful knowing stellar women who have gone before me. I felt new energy and an uplifted spirit.

Luckily, my children have a gift of silliness that can bless (ok and sometimes curse) at the perfect moment. I opened the fridge to find a bottle of Elmers glue and couldn't help laughing out loud. Life really is good.

Just Pics.

Conversations with a now four year old

Stinky Pete walked in with his fire man boots and a razor and said, "Mom! Why won't you let me shave?!" I explain that as soon as he has 8 whiskers he can shave. Then he asks, "When I'm 10?" For some reason, he thinks that 10 is when you can do it all. I told him that if he has 8 whiskers when he is 10, then he could shave. He then says, "But I am ten!", to which I reminded him he just had his 4th birthday. Then he leaned in as close as he could and with his hand turned my face until it was directed right at the spot he wanted me to examine. "Mom! There are whiskers right here!" I took his soft, little whisker free cheek, kissed it and said, "Invisible whiskers are the best kind." He squinted his eyes, chuckled, and walked out of the room to begin his next conquest.

We are still alive.....

Fatty and Flower McFlannagan are 8 months old and we are still alive. Since our last post, we moved (still in Louisiana but we needed more room), Mardi Gras'd, and much more. I hope to get some of that on the blog. We'll see.