Soaring and Stillness: Life with the Chickadees

Last night, something miraculous occurred. The phone rang. I answered. In the scope of the everyday ordinary it doesn’t sound like much, the act of seeing a call and accepting it instead of sending it to voicemail. She didn’t want to do anything but talk. Have conversation. Fellowship with me over cellular airwaves.  I answered because outside of immediate family, hers is the number set to bypass do not disturb. The phone knows that outside of regular hours, I’ve let her in.  I think she knows it too. She didn’t call for anything in particular; she was on her way home with an occupied babe in the backseat and had an hour.  She called me. I answered. We talked for the remainder of her trip. The big chick and the professor tried to find a movie to watch and wandered in wondering where I was and when I was coming back. Her little bit was occupied in the car seat and didn’t make a peep. I told them to go ahead without me. She let the golden haired angel watch the coveted tabl...

I have a dear friend who closes with  all shall be well . It's a battle cry and motto, but it's also a deep seeded belief. A series of words that she holds to when the sand passes through her fingers or there is no foothold in the wall. She's beautiful and kind and full of Jesus. She loves her family and her community. She brings awareness to what is important to her. She's also not long for this world. It makes my heart squeeze in a manner I'm only too familiar with. Growing up, September was about the roar of that big stadium in Ann Arbor, the crisp bite of a breeze, the cheer in the air. It was back-to-school clothes and waiting at the bus stop and the first hint of the brilliance of the trees. I met new teachers, lost teeth, found a routine, and loved every minute of all of it. Fall was my favorite, and September brought about all of the things that made it so, for she was the promise of all that was to come. Promises are interesting beasts. As kids, we pi...

Motherhood. It's surprising and joyous and painful all at once. It stretches you to elastigirl lengths. Mostly in your heart where no one else can see the bending and twisting that occurs as one comes to grips with the raising of these small (that become big) humans. To My Dearest Chickadees, I've watched you this year, my loves, leaping and soaring and standing precariously close to the edges of cliffs, both physical and metaphorical. I've watched you journey, with abandon. You're both so very very brave and strong and beautiful and kind. I'm not just saying this because I'm your momma and I have to, I'm saying it because truth words deserve to be spoken. I speak truth. Grace Girl, we've had such a year of firsts and lasts. So many, in fact, that I'm downright worn out. I've heard teenagers do that to a soul. But despite it all you are so worth the loving. Worth every second of it. Remember the days when you were smaller than me? Now I...

An unknown author once wrote, "You can't wrap a hug in a box, but you can wrap a person in your arms." A statement which was proven false just a few weeks ago. A package arrived, ferried over seas, over islands, thousands of miles from it's origin. Destination? A southern front porch.  Sender? One sweet friend and her adorable daughter. In favorite hues it came, with love exploding...delicate practice embroidery done by a hand that not long ago learned to form letters. Pastels abounded. Gifts fit for princesses. The chicks were floored, in awe. As was I, working to control the tears that this box brought to my throat; whelmed with the pure generosity of it all. As it always goes, the Mama was last into the box. There, I found nestled gently, a beautiful note, tied with ribbon and specific instructions... Always one to obey, I promptly did as instructed by my heart-filled friend. Handing the camera to the eldest,  I un...

We spent the weekend dancing in Georgia and I was too busy running the Grace Girl from competition to convention classes to do anything else. Yesterday was make-up schooling and extra loads of laundry I never fathomed this many loads of dark hand wash only as well as bathing the dog because she'd been at the kennel for a few days eewwwww.   So, here it comes, a Five Minute Friday: Tender (On Tuesday) Five minute Friday is here...five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing.  Five minutes to write because I love it, because it frees me, if only for five minutes... Today's topic?   Tender Ready...Set...Go! Tender  is how my heart gets when I watch them and don't realize it. Dreaming their dreams and telling each other secrets in hushed whisper s  as  the  occasional  giggle slips out. Tender  is how she's always approached her big sister, the one who shows her the ropes and gives her the mo...

She walked out bundled, braided, carrying a peanut butter sandwich and applesauce just in case she did not prefer the dinner available at the farm. One quick kiss, a reminder to stay with the group as they explored the maze. A bus ride of over an hour...on the big yellow tank she used to take to and from school each day before we made the move to homeschooling.  Her exclamation priceless as she was dropped off, "Look! Number 227...I rode it  every day. What are the odds?" Flutters in my stomach as I let her fly Random texts arrived throughout the hours she was away with sparse details. The lack of communication showing, more than anything else, that fellowship and laughter were plentiful in the dark, crisp  see your breath  air of this  late October nigh. Time alone with my little, rare in years past, is becoming plentiful. My grace girl is growing up. A text that the bus is exiting the freeway her little sister long since put to bed  and ...