iphone

I did it.  I got an iphone.  Who knew I would actually ever start texting?  While still a technophobe at heart, a pioneer girl deep in my soul, I do enjoy having this pretty awesome device tucked inside my purse.  I'm trying all of the features out and I'm pretty clumsy with everything.  Mia was my model at soccer this weekend as I took my first photos!

Weekend Shots

Dear Dad,

There are a lot of things I would tell you if I could.  I would tell you that Mom is doing well, because I know that's the first person you would ask about if we could speak.  I remember when we were growing up and we would anger you, it wasn't our actions that really upset you, it was how our actions upset her - the woman of whom you were ever protective.  I would tell you that she's still beautiful, even more so, and smart, and courageous.  I would tell you that she's retiring in a few months.  Her lifelong career, and passion, of helping others is coming to a close.  She's embarking on this transition gracefully, and with a peaceful resolve.

I would tell you that your kids are doing well, all of us, and I would tell you that all of our kids are too.  We are raising them with a lot of the same basic principles you instilled in us, like to carry their own gear and to get their heads out of their whatchamacallits.  I would tell you that they are carrying on the Padden tradition beautifully - all of them smart, witty, funny, and quick to befriend others. 

I would tell you a lot of silly things that don't really matter to anyone else.  Like how Luca now says, "I'm actually little.  Mommy and Daddy are dults and Bijou is a noodle."  I would tell you because you and I are probably the only ones who would in turn start calling the poodle, the noodle, and laugh each time we did. 

I would tell you that I've lightened up, as you always told me to do.  That I'm happy and healthy and totally self reliant.  I would tell you this, not because I would think you didn't know (you always did) but because I know now. 

I would tell you, again, that the impact you had/have is profound.  I think about you daily and always feel a sweet mixture of sadness and gratitude when I do. 


Mom and Dad just after Mia's birth.  I took the photo, with Dad looking at me, as I gazed on my past and my future merging together. 

Sick Day

Sick day for me.  Which meant a three hour nap and a lineup of TV shows that I never watch.  Luca came home from school and the universe graced me with a tired kid who willing crawled right into my arms and fell asleep for another hour.  Being sick is the worst, and being a sick mom is like a rare form or torture, because having to explain to small kids that you just can't bend over to tie shoes or get up to fix snacks usually doesn't work out so well.  V was home today too which was another small nod from the universe.  He captured this moment with my soon to be three year old boy.

Capture the Flag

A neighborhood game of Capture the Flag broke out spontaniously the other evening and Luca watched from the sidelines.  They kids used flattened milk cartons as their home base markers.  A gaggle of them rang the bell and asked for the kids to come out, the bigger ones keeping an eye out for the smaller ones.  It made me long for summer nights, when impromptu games take over the cul-de-sac.     

A Date with a Bestie

Park date with some of our favorite people today.  Rach took this while spinning on one of those "spinning things".  Lunch, ice cream, and time to connect with one of my dearest friends.  Life is indeed good.

Finding something new

When I arrived home today, there were couch cushions everywhere and the kids were creating homemade bunkbeds. Yes, as you can imagine both kids were squished during the process and I walked in at that exact moment. The collapse.  The aftermath of such a disaster.  The crying and sadness at the loss of their creation.  Everyone was demanding lunch, including me.  And Bijou inexplicably felt the need to be barking excitedly at the mounting chaos. 

You would think I would offer V (and myself) a healthy selection of shots.  Or perhaps a small dose of a socially acceptable recreational drug.  Something.  Anything to ease the late morning madness of this particular day. 

But, no.  I suggested a game.  Hide and Seek. 

The kids go nuts for Hide and Seek, and strangely, so do I. 

V and the kids counted.  I hid first, and I darted upstairs and walked into our quiet dark bathroom.  I crouched down in the shower and felt the cold tiles against my bare feet.  I could hear the kids searching for me, talking about how amazed they were at my extraordinary hiding ability (they are 5 and almost 3; still in the easily amazed stage obviously).  My heart pounded and I could hear my pulse against my eardrums.  I breathed quietly.  I looked around at the cool refuge of the master bath and noted just how peaceful it was in there.  Note to self, I thought.

I waited. 

I whistled a few times to send out a small signal as to my whereabouts. 

When they finally found me they tumbled into me, shrieking with delight.  I let out a yelp as they rounded the corner and saw me because I had been discovered.  And there was something oddly thrilling about it all.  Strangely unexpected.  They hugged me and kissed me and begged for me to do it again.  More!  MORE!  It was interesting; away from each other only briefly but we were happy to be in each other's presence again.  Happy to start over. 

In moments of stress, moments when you feel temporarily lost, you just need an escape.  A quiet retreat, even if in a darkened bathroom.  And you need a worthy search team willing to look hard for your familiarity.

In moments where your calm and center seem to be hiding....

you just need to be found. 

More action shots

A friend just sent these photos from when V and the kids went to the basketball expo downtown.  Love the one of the boys looking up at Mia, and the last one of the kids with their faces/arms painted.  Luca kept his on for too long for me to actually admit, as I'm in charge of bathing him on the occasion. 

Easter

This is one of those pictures where both kids had been bawling ten minutes prior, the dog was barking, the doorbell was ringing, and the stove had something boiling.  But Nonna wanted her photo and we knew it was now or never. 

We got the shot with moments to spare.  The kids disappeared into cousin and candy heaven only to reappear filthy and missing various parts of their Easter attire. 

Waiting for the cousins to arrive.

Still waiting. 

The big kids set up an awesome egg hunt in the back yard with hundreds of eggs (!!).  They had to stop to dump their baskets they were so full!  And the totally loved Aunt Emmy hid a golden egg with a five dollar bill.  The winner?  Finn!

This could be my favorite picture in a long long time.  Luca Lane.  Owen Lawrence.  Finn Mansfield.  All named in some way, shape or form after my dad.  Lane was my grandmother's maiden name.  Owen is my brother's middle name, and also a beloved name of my dad's.  And Mansfield is my dad's middle name.  He would be so proud of these three.  Look at Luca looking up to his big cousins.  His "boy" cousins he calls them.  And wow does he adore them.  Stick together you three.  You'll need each other's support with all of us ladies around you!

The "serious" picture. 

The "silly" picture. 

The hunt is on. 

These two are such good friends these days.  Mall dates and sleep overs.  Weren't they like five just yesterday???

Digging Dying

Can I admit that I was dreading coloring eggs this year?  I think hard boiled eggs stink.  Literally.  And the dye gets everywhere.  And when the artists you're contracted to work with are under four feet, the whole process is ungodly messy.  But.....something this year changed...it was so totally enjoyable!!  Except for the fact that I still think hard boiled eggs kind of stink. 

The art team was fantastic.  Careful and creative.  I kept saying, "Wow. You did this?  I mean, you DID this!"  The eggs were great!

Luca's began to look more like camaflouged eggs because he dipped them 1, 987 times into varying colors.  But, little man did is so carefully.  They were the prettiest over dyed eggs this side of town.  This boy is a charmer.

So here's the strange part; I remember last year, and in years prior, the dye being difficult to get off from hands.  This year, everything wiped up without soap even.  I kept following V around the house saying, "Seriously....did you read anything about companies changing their dye solution?  I mean....this is weird."  I feel like my life has been revolutionized.  Like I can now begin to totally love dying Easter eggs.  Big change for me people so I need time to process. 

A Soccer Story...

Meet Mia....

a member of the fiercest looking soccer team around, the Cheetahs. 

She's got some game, this tiny little cheetah cub. 

Kind of tough and aggressive, in an adorable sort of way. 

but really more interested in hanging out in the sun with her bestie and her new friends on the team.  M and M giggled on the field and chased after one another smiling.  We gently cheered from the sidelines, "The ball girls!  The BALL!"  The soccer mom in me wanted to shout out, "Keep your head in the game ladies!" but then I remembered something.  And that is that I just don't care how my kids perform.  Sure, I'd like for them to get something out of activities and academics, but life isn't about the outcome - the product.  It's about the ride.  And dear sweet Mia, just enjoy it love.  Try hard but play hard.  You did both this past week.  We couldn't be prouder.

I do have to say, while I am proudly not a soccer mom, this is a great sport.  And, maybe, if I'm lucky, I do have some years of sitting in the sun with my iced coffee watching my kids kick a ball around a green grassy field. 

Is there a cooler cheering section?  The Nonna and the Nana....

and a little bro who is biting at the bit to start playing himself.  Just as soon as he can attend to something for longer than a few minutes.  When I was a little kid, I think my parents found me underneath some bleachers after one of my brothers' games.  I was eating discarded nacho chips that a stranger had left behind.  Thrown out more specifically.  That's how it goes when you are a tot sitting on the sidelines watching the big kids play. I just love watching the littles at the sporting events of the older kids.  Watching Luca scurry after balls, set up cones, chase bugs, and break down in tears was almost like a homecoming.  Oh Luca....you and I have so many shared experiences already with being the youngest.  It's a good gig little buddy.

Almost my favorite moment of team sports....the mandatory "good gaming".  Oh how I love it.  Watching my girl sharing a shake with her competitors just made me beam.  I like a good sport.  And feeling the sun on my face, and the grass underfoot, and hearing the gentle smacking of skin on skin....all of my own sporting memories flooded around me. 

Alright, alright....I admit it.  The only reason I was so excited for the the kids to get involved in team sports was to break out the orange slices!  I have so many memories of being at sporting events and diving into the cold and sweet goodness of a sliced orange afterward.  So, needless to say, I was the first parent to sign up for snack after the game.  Here I am, excitedly getting the snack ready. 

Mia....here is to a lifetime of sports.  Whether you play competitively or not, I know you'll take the lessons team and individual athletic pursuits can teach and you'll soar.  While I'm no pro at anything, moving my body has been such an important part of my life...a mainstay....a constant...a friend almost.  I'm eager to share that with you and Luca. 

Here's to many more orange slices. 

 

The Nonna

Nonna visited us for a week and we all reveled in her Nonnaness.  She is a beautiful chef and Mia, a budding foodie, loved helping.  Luca too actually.  Mia would ask her how to say things in Italian and Nonna happily obliged.  She sewed a few huggies that had holes and also dusted my shutters.  When I walked in on her cleaning my badly neglected shutters she appeared embarrassed, as if she were suggesting I wasn't a good house keeper.  Listen, I explained, at this stage in my life, I'm so beyond feeling too proud.  Any Nonna wielding a dust rag, a needle, and some cooking skills is welcome anytime.  To be honest, Nonna, even without any of those skills, you're always welcome.  Seeing V with his mom, and the kids with another grandmother, was so totally fulfilling.  Nonna truly is a joy to have as our very special houseguest.  We are eagerly planning our next visit.