Halloween Morning

The last outdoor farmer's market of the season was this a.m. Now, into the dormant state of winter. My winged ones ran around collecting more candy from the vendors and I marveled at this awesome state in which we live.

Halloween Weekend

Today was the Halloween parade and party at preschool. There is Mia, in all of her butterfly glory, ready to collect as much processed and refined sugar as possible. I asked her if she'd like to give most of that candy to the Halloween fairy. Why she asked. Well, to make sure that kids who don't have anything can have a taste of the addictive stuff too. We shouldn't be the only ones to be reaping such bounty. We owe a piece of everything we have to others. I wanted to sit her down and talk about socialism. And to just admit right there that, indeed, I am one. A socialist. I kept mum though, waiting for her response. "No. No thanks. Tell the fairy maybe next year but I won't be giving anything this year." An arrow through my liberal heart.

I stood back and watched Mia work. She colors carefully. She works quickly. Her wings wiggled and her antenna bobbled as she cruised around the room and went about her busy studies. I knelt down and whispered, "Why don't you show me around the room? You know, show me the books, etc." We both scanned the small room and I felt kind of dumb asking for a tour of such an obvious display of preschool tools. She nodded toward the classroom library and said, "Ummm....there are the books. Can't you see them?" Yes. Right. Carry on then.

I think this is the warmest Halloween weekend I can remember. Popsicle weather today. Luca ate his, a treat he's only had once before, and walked around saying, "Mmmm...." all while giving me this smile that made me never want him to grow up. Although, when he grows up, he might not pitch a fit in the cheese aisle at the grocery store. Which will be nice.

Art and Architecture

Getting the mail is a huge deal around here. Mia knows that when the flag is down, the mail has arrived. She runs to the box and throws everything onto the sidewalk as she digs to the back. Today, we all went running, and Mia pulled this postcard out. I read it to her and she beamed from ear to ear.

You know how I wrote about V being the coolest in an earlier entry? This is exactly what I mean. The guy is endlessly inspiring. Despite the fact that we've been to the art museum more than a handful of times as a family, he still comments on the awesome nature of this building. He still stops to share his genuine admiration with his kids. And I can guarantee, there will be a Daddy, M, and L trip to see this building within a week or two.

School Photos

School photos are the worst. Except when they are of your own child. Then, they become like masterpieces that need to be shared. The dorky overdone backgrounds, the silly props and the funny poses. But, there in the middle of this contrived fall scene, sits my girl. My kid. And suddenly, I want to order like 100.

N.Y.V.

I saw this image and immediately thought of V. His spirit is so urban. Not in the sense that he dresses well (although he does) or that he is always up on the newest music, books, and news (although he is) or that he navigates cities in a way that most people can't (although he can). He's urban in the sense that he's a people person. The guy loves to connect, with everyone. He shows no judgement. He has no personal boundaries really when it comes to understanding other people. He has an innate sense of how to communicate - when to push and when to back off. He loves subways and trains. He loves city magazines. He carries around dog eared books for something to read - if he's standing in line or waiting. He pokes into coffee shops and bookstores "just to check it out." He brings the kids on adventures to obscure guitar shops and ice cream stands hidden in the depths of the city. There is an energy about him that makes me feel alive.

V and I meet at the capital sometimes to swap the kids. I drive there after work and park on the street. I search among the faces eating quiet lunches on the lawn. And I always see him standing in front of the big gorgeous bleached out state building, with it's shiny gold top. He's wearing his suit, always a nice one. The kids are running around him picking up giant oak leaves and chasing squirrels and he waves that long armed wave to me. His well worn bag sits with water and diapers and other kids supplies on the benches. We have just enough time for a 'how are you?' and a heartfelt and solid, "I love you." He then shouts his "Daddy's going now" to the kids and they wave goodbye. He disappears behind the rash of buildings off to work. And the park at the capital is suddenly less bright.

Shoulders

The mailman came the other day and the kids ran to the box and waited for him to deliver the goods. Luca ran ahead of Mia. She caught up with him and pulled him close to her, with a protective hand on his shoulder. I thought of all the people who pull me closer at times. I thought of the people who look out for me.
The weather is now officially chilly. I pulled the kids onto our front porch and insisted on a photo shoot, complete with the pumpkins and the scarecrow in the background. Mia was upset about the arrangement and wanted to be on the other side of Luca. I said "smile" repeatedly and this was the best I could get.

Of course, they were both all smiles when I let them run free and gave up the idea of a fall photo session. As I followed them up and down the block, I thought of the sounds right now that make me feel full....the sound of the chain squeaking on the front yard swing. The sound of some of Mia's words (yellow is "Lellow" and gloves is still "glubs"). The sound of the leaves swirling up against each other in the big gusts of wind.

Their noses were both dripping and they fumbled with things as they pawed at them with their mittened hands. I've had some moments recently which required me to make difficult decisions. Adult decisions. Decisions that stop you in your tracks and you think, aloud, "I'm a full fledged grown up. Wow." But when I see these two faces, peering back at me with such trust and love, I feel so validated in my choices. Every decision I make has their best interests at heart. My first thought, always, is how my actions will impact these two tiny human beings.

And that's such an amazing feeling. The feeling of responsibility so awesome that it can take your breath away. So huge that it can make you wonder why shouldering it doesn't bring to your knees. But I've never felt that I might collapse from the weight of parenthood. The opposite actually; I feel a strange sense of levity when I think about my role as their mother. Freedom in a way. Maybe it's because they force me to be much more careful in my thought process. More deliberate. They're counting on me after all.

Baby or Boy

I find myself still referring to him as "the baby" but I think he's all boy. In so many ways.

Pine Needle Soup

She and Luca sat out back yesterday, her birthday, and made gourmet soups of pine needles and mint. They added mud and rocks, a dandelion, and loads of grass. I watched them work and mulled through so many thoughts. I watched them busy themselves with important work - the crushing of leaves, the stirring, the simmering over the pretend fire. And I thought this is what sustains people. Work. The day to day actions and rituals that we all carry from dawn to dusk. Whether we're little or big, these acts are important. Whether you're cooking over imaginary flames or real ones that can burn, these universal, seemingly mundane, tasks are really the meat of most days. I watched them lovingly planning out their meal and picking the perfect things to go into their soup and I, once again, was reminded by the smallest members of the family to go about even the littlest of tasks meaningfully.

Once Upon A Time....

We celebrated Mia's fourth birthday today. Her real birthday isn't until Monday, which is a bit complicated to explain to a kid. I think she's under the impression that all of this will be happening again in 48 hours. The moment we all sing is such a big moment at a birthday party, isn't it? I remember being little and everyone who was anyone had their party at the local roller skating rink. It was THE thing to do. And, it was also popular to scream the birthday song. At the top of your lungs. Even at that young age, I hated when they yelled it. I guess even then I thought it should be more intimate, more thoughtful. I remember my mom hosted one of my parties there one year and I quietly whispered to her, "Don't let them yell it Mom." I was anxious about that part. Nervous. They didn't yell, probably under my mom's directions, and I was pleased. I watched Mia listen to us sing to her, her face aglow with pride and maybe a bit of embarrassment. I'm always so impressed with her. She handles quite a lot of things like a pro.
Most of my pictures of this boy end up looking like this. He moves too fast to really capture, even for a great camera. He ate things off of the floor, and drank everyone else's juice boxes. What can I say, this kid can party.

While Luca had no idea what this party meant, or maybe even who it was for, he did pick up on the level of excitement. He followed the big kids and bit every single balloon animal he could find just to hear them pop.

Mia woke up and was already giddy about her upcoming party. I told her we should get dressed in her princess costume, because, it was, alas, a princess party. "Nah. I think we should change it to a butterfly party." So, my butterfly sat with her brother and ate crackers while they waited for their guests. I talked her into the tiara so my theme (which she begged for) wouldn't be totally lost.

I like homegrown parties. We traced her body onto butcher paper and created a princess. Voila. Pin the tiara on the princess.

Even Bijou got in on the action.

You see why I was hesitant to change the party to a butterfly party last minute? What would my princess cupcake toppers have done with themselves? Ridiculously cute right? (Thanks Nana!)

Mia was in her element, with her face painted and her balloon wand. The "Fairy Godmother" and her assistant "Jimmy", the balloon man, showed up to surprise the kids. The Fairy Godmother painted faces while her side kick whipped up any and all creations with balloons. They were a huge hit!

This was the quietest moment of the party. Silence as they dipped into their frosting.

Even Luca,who is never silent while awake, was quiet.

This is life. All of the messy chaos adds up to this. Moments of celebration. While I don't do BIG for birthdays, I do believe in making them magical. Memorable. If we can't celebrate each other, what the hell are we going to celebrate? So, today, I'm tired and full of pizza and sugar. I'm also incredibly grateful to be the mom of the most exquisite butterfly princess out there (and to her baby brother, but this day happens to be hers). Happy fourth birthday Mia Frances!

Our new front yard swing

The old tree out front has come in very handy. Mia has a new pasttime.

Harvest

So now it's fall. I guess that's how it happens. You just got to bed one night and the next morning, you've got a girl who's almost four, a boy who now talks, and pumpkins peeking out of every corner. The yard is crunchy with leaves suddenly. Tank tops are history. And the crock pot has been christened for the season.

I hosted bookclub last night and it was fun to pull myself, and my house, together for a few hours. I actually managed to get all of the toys off of the floor and uncork some wine. It felt great to think and laugh with some very cool women. Including the littlest lady, Mia. She asked me if she could stay up, "just to help put the snacks on the table." How could I resist? I watched her swinging around Aunt Emmy's legs as she surveyed the scene....the girls pouring wine and chatting. The door opening and closing. This is where it all begins. These moments of being surrounded by adults. These years are the years her perceptions are formed. They are mere seedlings now, being watered daily. Nurtured. She scooted off to bed with V and I knew she fell asleep to our loud conversation downstairs. Our voices lulling her into her subconscious. We play hard during the day - reading, running, and wrestling with beads, crafts, and her brother. But the intellect in me is always delighted when we can welcome our children into our very complicated adult world of politics, policy, and purpose.

This is a duel life we're all living, as parents. We are the ever responsible care givers and yet still our own captains, searching for truth and meaning. It's so nice when the two worlds meet and we operate together. As Mia helped me pull out our serving platters and cheese knives she asked what kinds of things we'd talk about tonight at bookclub.

"Everything" I told her. "The good. The bad. And the ugly."

She said, "Just like we do, right?"

Right there. My worlds collided. And it was an awesome sight to behold.

4:00 p.m. at our house

I like these kinds of days...when the kids initiate some kind of play together. Lately, it's been books. A lot of books. Luca can now cluck like a chicken and moo like a cow so animal books are hot here. Can't keep them on the shelf.
Luca has a cold, so I'm sure Mia will have one in a few days. It's worth it though, the swapping of the germs, when they are swapping so much more.