I am pretty sure that Ian drank half of my beer..... gotta give him kudos for thinking I would not notice.
It has been one of those days that has left my body breathless and my heart beating happy. There is just something beautiful about a happy beat to your heart. It has a way of seeping into your bloodstream and energizing your fatigued limbs and mind.
There is so much I want to catch up on.....
For the last couple weeks (that I have not blogged) a quote has been coursing through my body.
It goes,
"I long to cry, not out of sorrow but out of the fatigue of my heart"
My heart has been fatigued and as much as I have longed to shake it off, walk it off, and disregard it, it has had to run its course. It has had to work itself out. Much like a sore muscle, time and pushing through, have to work the ache out of it. And yet my fatigue has not been an ache, sorrow, grief, or any thing negative but just a tiredness. A tiredness that seeped to my heart and into my bloodstream. A tiredness that sleep nor vegged out hours on the couch could reach. Yet needless to say, a hike that kicked my butt and time have worked the fatigue from my heart and my longing to cry has passed (for now).
I may have rambled on but for me to blog this, feels beautiful for me. This fatigue of the heart has always felt like such a negative aspect to living. I always felt guilty for having myself get to that point of tears being the release of my soul. Yet I have come to appreciate and cherish tears, they wash the soul and carry the inner beats of the heart out, in little drops or streaming rivers. That is why I cry when life touches me in the most beautiful way and that is why I cry when my heart is heavy and that is why I cry when my heart is fatigued. Tears, although rarely pretty, are the cleansing escape route.
Well that has been my last two weeks and here I sit. My mind and body recounting the countless stories of the kids, countless mins of feelings, laughter, smiles, arguments, snuggles, and conversations. It has been a super busy couple of weeks and although I would love to recapture the moments that made me smile it honestly is mostly a blur.
Yet least I forget........
Tela is slowly adding more words to her vocabulary but seems just as content making up words to things. She has renamed all bugs as "seeboo". So if I walk into our room and she is jumping on our bed yelling "seeboo, seeboo!!!" Than I should probably look for a bug between the sheets before getting into bed that evening. She is a great, crazy girl who only cries if her feelings have been hurt, she can fall down the hill bare-bummed, barefoot, and covered in prickles without shedding a tear but if Emma pushes her aside, then the tears are gonna flow. She has a fierce love of her family and is the happiest when we are all home. Repeatedly running into the room to say, "hi mama, hi dada, hi bubba, hi bubba, hi Emma, hi dog, dog. So far she has yet to say Sam and Leah so they are just bubba and if there is a kid she likes than they are bubba too. We have a lot of Bubbas in our world.
Emma is getting taller every time I turn around. She remains so inquisitive about the world and the makings of the world. And yet without fail, on every walk we take, she sees fairy homes everywhere. Every amazing cloud in the sky is a castle, a path to a castle, or someone or something that lives in the enchanted skies. She has a remarkable way of taking life and chaos in stride, nothing seems to throw her off and this is something that I wish she forever has. What a beautiful gift. Ian showed her a couple cords on the guitar and she has since reached for his guitar every chance she gets. Never forgetting the cords he showed her. Her mind is one of those amazing sponges and as much as it leaves me breathless it also keeps me on my toes about what I say and who I am in her presence. She takes it all in and I am quickly reminded when I hear her telling Tela, "I see you are upset but you are going to have to tell me in a nicer way what you are upset over. I can't help you feel better if you are just yelling," and sits there with a patient yet unbothered look on her face. Or when she is asking me what Spain is like and amongst the items listed I mention wine, "Oh" she immediately breaks forth, "you would love it there!!! We should go together when I am much older than 21"
Sam is deep waters deep into baseball. It is the oxygen to his bloodstream and everything else is rather just a passing of time till the next game. He is doing an amazing job on his team this year. His body and ability seem to have found their groove and watching him play is truly a joyous gift, each and every time. I wouldn't tell him but he is the best one on his team. Ian did tell him so and to hear Sam repeat the words to me was priceless. He had sided up to me and kinda started talking out of his mouth, without actually opening it, about baseball once again. Suddenly he was silent for a moment and then he said, with pride bursting from his heart, "Dad said that I am the best one on the team and that he is not just saying that cause he is my Dad and that is what Dads say but it is actually true." Releasing some of that inner glee of pride Sam quickly just walked away, about two inches taller. Although I could not see his face I could see that he was grinning from ear to ear. We got him a radio for his birthday and he gets the dodger games on it. So most evenings at 7:10, Sam will say he is going to bed and quietly retreat to his room. Get that antenna just right and listen to a dodger game through the static. Often coming out to tell the house full of girls (who could care less) what the score is and who did what and who didn't do something. Giving his two cents in as tho his years of experience have given him an insight on how to best play this game of baseball. He as much as myself are at the end of this school year and yet the school year is not at the end with us, so we have been having a couple rough days and wading through the last chapters of the school books, both so eager to close them for the last time. :) Soon my dear boy, soon.
Leah is 13 coming up to 14. What a funny age to be. It truly is and in all the awkwardness of being a child/lady the world feels very weird and shaky. I am just trying to reassure her that its all normal despite the abnormal feelings that come with being 13 almost 14. She doesn't know it but she is truly stunning. I hope that despite my whole being wanting her to appreciate and be confident in her beauty (inner and outward) there is a part of me that is grateful that she doesn't know how stunning she is. At this age I don't know if she would have acquired enough humbleness to balance her beauty and keep her grounded. She always fascinates me, there is this beautiful child/lady that is of my heart and yet she can spend hours watching utube videos on how to do your nails and hair. And then spending even more hours doing her nails and hair. She will even awake hours before school to curl her hair (crazy to me). She has longed since stopped asking me for advise, help, or supplies, knowing full well that this is an area of life that I have nothing to offer. And yet she delightfully shares with me her masterpieces and I stand in awe. She is amazing. There is an artistic streak that runs from her mind to her fingertips.
And there we have it, least I forget who these beautiful souls are at this time in their lives. Least I forget the exhausting joy of spending my days with them. Least I forget and these days become a blur of who they were. Least I forget....
And for me.... there are these wild flowers that grow behind our house. All day long they remain closed up and would quickly be thought of as another ugly weed but when the sun goes down and dusk settles on the land, these little flowers open wide and cover our back hill in a beauty of white. I love it!!! Every day they take my breath away and fill me with wonder and appreciation. Every day my mind finds another way to identify with these flowers, these flowers that don't show their beauty with everyone else in the full rays of the sun but these flowers that step into their dancing roles at dusk. That open up once everyone has closed their petals for slumber. I suppose in motherhood and in many of the demands of life there is an element in us all, that comes out dancing in the dusk. There is a remarkable beauty when you get to dance in the dusk and an awe striking amazement when you get to witness others dancing in the dusk. Life is so beautiful!!!
It has been one of those days that has left my body breathless and my heart beating happy. There is just something beautiful about a happy beat to your heart. It has a way of seeping into your bloodstream and energizing your fatigued limbs and mind.
There is so much I want to catch up on.....
For the last couple weeks (that I have not blogged) a quote has been coursing through my body.
It goes,
"I long to cry, not out of sorrow but out of the fatigue of my heart"
My heart has been fatigued and as much as I have longed to shake it off, walk it off, and disregard it, it has had to run its course. It has had to work itself out. Much like a sore muscle, time and pushing through, have to work the ache out of it. And yet my fatigue has not been an ache, sorrow, grief, or any thing negative but just a tiredness. A tiredness that seeped to my heart and into my bloodstream. A tiredness that sleep nor vegged out hours on the couch could reach. Yet needless to say, a hike that kicked my butt and time have worked the fatigue from my heart and my longing to cry has passed (for now).
I may have rambled on but for me to blog this, feels beautiful for me. This fatigue of the heart has always felt like such a negative aspect to living. I always felt guilty for having myself get to that point of tears being the release of my soul. Yet I have come to appreciate and cherish tears, they wash the soul and carry the inner beats of the heart out, in little drops or streaming rivers. That is why I cry when life touches me in the most beautiful way and that is why I cry when my heart is heavy and that is why I cry when my heart is fatigued. Tears, although rarely pretty, are the cleansing escape route.
Well that has been my last two weeks and here I sit. My mind and body recounting the countless stories of the kids, countless mins of feelings, laughter, smiles, arguments, snuggles, and conversations. It has been a super busy couple of weeks and although I would love to recapture the moments that made me smile it honestly is mostly a blur.
Yet least I forget........
Tela is slowly adding more words to her vocabulary but seems just as content making up words to things. She has renamed all bugs as "seeboo". So if I walk into our room and she is jumping on our bed yelling "seeboo, seeboo!!!" Than I should probably look for a bug between the sheets before getting into bed that evening. She is a great, crazy girl who only cries if her feelings have been hurt, she can fall down the hill bare-bummed, barefoot, and covered in prickles without shedding a tear but if Emma pushes her aside, then the tears are gonna flow. She has a fierce love of her family and is the happiest when we are all home. Repeatedly running into the room to say, "hi mama, hi dada, hi bubba, hi bubba, hi Emma, hi dog, dog. So far she has yet to say Sam and Leah so they are just bubba and if there is a kid she likes than they are bubba too. We have a lot of Bubbas in our world.
Emma is getting taller every time I turn around. She remains so inquisitive about the world and the makings of the world. And yet without fail, on every walk we take, she sees fairy homes everywhere. Every amazing cloud in the sky is a castle, a path to a castle, or someone or something that lives in the enchanted skies. She has a remarkable way of taking life and chaos in stride, nothing seems to throw her off and this is something that I wish she forever has. What a beautiful gift. Ian showed her a couple cords on the guitar and she has since reached for his guitar every chance she gets. Never forgetting the cords he showed her. Her mind is one of those amazing sponges and as much as it leaves me breathless it also keeps me on my toes about what I say and who I am in her presence. She takes it all in and I am quickly reminded when I hear her telling Tela, "I see you are upset but you are going to have to tell me in a nicer way what you are upset over. I can't help you feel better if you are just yelling," and sits there with a patient yet unbothered look on her face. Or when she is asking me what Spain is like and amongst the items listed I mention wine, "Oh" she immediately breaks forth, "you would love it there!!! We should go together when I am much older than 21"
Sam is deep waters deep into baseball. It is the oxygen to his bloodstream and everything else is rather just a passing of time till the next game. He is doing an amazing job on his team this year. His body and ability seem to have found their groove and watching him play is truly a joyous gift, each and every time. I wouldn't tell him but he is the best one on his team. Ian did tell him so and to hear Sam repeat the words to me was priceless. He had sided up to me and kinda started talking out of his mouth, without actually opening it, about baseball once again. Suddenly he was silent for a moment and then he said, with pride bursting from his heart, "Dad said that I am the best one on the team and that he is not just saying that cause he is my Dad and that is what Dads say but it is actually true." Releasing some of that inner glee of pride Sam quickly just walked away, about two inches taller. Although I could not see his face I could see that he was grinning from ear to ear. We got him a radio for his birthday and he gets the dodger games on it. So most evenings at 7:10, Sam will say he is going to bed and quietly retreat to his room. Get that antenna just right and listen to a dodger game through the static. Often coming out to tell the house full of girls (who could care less) what the score is and who did what and who didn't do something. Giving his two cents in as tho his years of experience have given him an insight on how to best play this game of baseball. He as much as myself are at the end of this school year and yet the school year is not at the end with us, so we have been having a couple rough days and wading through the last chapters of the school books, both so eager to close them for the last time. :) Soon my dear boy, soon.
Leah is 13 coming up to 14. What a funny age to be. It truly is and in all the awkwardness of being a child/lady the world feels very weird and shaky. I am just trying to reassure her that its all normal despite the abnormal feelings that come with being 13 almost 14. She doesn't know it but she is truly stunning. I hope that despite my whole being wanting her to appreciate and be confident in her beauty (inner and outward) there is a part of me that is grateful that she doesn't know how stunning she is. At this age I don't know if she would have acquired enough humbleness to balance her beauty and keep her grounded. She always fascinates me, there is this beautiful child/lady that is of my heart and yet she can spend hours watching utube videos on how to do your nails and hair. And then spending even more hours doing her nails and hair. She will even awake hours before school to curl her hair (crazy to me). She has longed since stopped asking me for advise, help, or supplies, knowing full well that this is an area of life that I have nothing to offer. And yet she delightfully shares with me her masterpieces and I stand in awe. She is amazing. There is an artistic streak that runs from her mind to her fingertips.
And there we have it, least I forget who these beautiful souls are at this time in their lives. Least I forget the exhausting joy of spending my days with them. Least I forget and these days become a blur of who they were. Least I forget....
And for me.... there are these wild flowers that grow behind our house. All day long they remain closed up and would quickly be thought of as another ugly weed but when the sun goes down and dusk settles on the land, these little flowers open wide and cover our back hill in a beauty of white. I love it!!! Every day they take my breath away and fill me with wonder and appreciation. Every day my mind finds another way to identify with these flowers, these flowers that don't show their beauty with everyone else in the full rays of the sun but these flowers that step into their dancing roles at dusk. That open up once everyone has closed their petals for slumber. I suppose in motherhood and in many of the demands of life there is an element in us all, that comes out dancing in the dusk. There is a remarkable beauty when you get to dance in the dusk and an awe striking amazement when you get to witness others dancing in the dusk. Life is so beautiful!!!
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