You Can't Go Home Again

I spent a couple of hours last night immersed in my old pictures, looking for pictures of our first house. We bought this house in 1995, right after I finished my masters degree and right before I got pregnant with Josh. We fell in love with it the minute we walked through it, and loved it even after we knew we needed to leave it. It was a tiny little cottage on a half acre wooded lot, but as I mentioned in an earlier post, it wasn't exactly in the best neighborhood. Eventually, the desire for a safe home for our growing family pushed us to move, but leaving was still difficult.


This is the best picture of the home I could find last night. It was owned by a landscape architect before us, and he filled the yard with decks and trees and a pond with a waterfall and raspberry bushes and flowers. We added a hammock, a strawberry patch, a sandbox for Josh, secret paths through the tree farm in the far backyard, a swinging bench, and one year we even bought a live Christmas tree and planted it in the front yard. This picture doesn't really capture the magic of the house, but it was a wonderful place to dream and to start a family. Other than the meth labs down the street. And the neighbor boy who shot out our garage window. And the burglary and vandalism... Oh, stop. Let me remember it lovingly, just for today.

It has been a few years since I'd driven by the house. This is what I saw when I drove up.


Yes, that is tall grass growing in the driveway, in front of an abandoned truck. You can't see that the lawn in the front has gone to seed or that the porch boards are starting to rot out. You can't see that the next owner sold the back half of the lot to the rest home that bordered it, and that the roof of the house is starting to sag. And that huge pine tree that blocks the view of the house? Yup...that was our little Christmas tree.

No, you can't go home again. Life moves forward. It always does. But I wish my house still looked like it does in my memories.

The Retiring of the Boots

Must all good things come to an end? I noticed that Ben's little sweet kissable feet have been getting blisters. I blamed his sockless boot-wearing, but even adding socks to the mix didn't help them heal. It's time to face sad facts. The boots and Ben must part ways.

Lucky us, though...just in the nick of time John and Katy found an old pair of Cole's rain boots that they have passed on to little Ben. They probably can't be worn to weddings, but they'll make us all happy whenever we see Ben tramping around in them.

Kate Grows Up

I have already expressed my discontent about my childrens' propensity for growing up. They just don't seem to stop, which bothers me to no end. This month has been especially emotional for me with Ben turning two (which means he's no longer a baby) and Kate turning six (which means she's no longer a little girl.) You must understand, I love each and every stage my children go through, and I don't REALLY sit, moping, because my children are getting older. But knowing that I'll never again have my four-year-old girl sounding out Dick and Jane with her curly head of hair on my shoulder, that she'll never again mispronounce spaghetti without fixing it, that my five-year-old Kate who learned to read fluently and took piano lessons with the stool for her feet on the highest level is gone to the ages, well that, my friends, is nothing short of tragic.

I don't mind nine turning to ten quite as much, or twelve turning to thirteen (I think, although maybe I'll change my mind in July.) The later stages are more fluid, the changes less dramatic. But to know that my mothering is moving from babyhood to late childhood and youth...that may be the crux of the matter. I never pictured myself in this stage. People with teenagers are OLD, and ESTABLISHED, and should HAVE A CLUE about being a grown-up. I'm not any of these things, am I? (I am? Really? Well, maybe the first two, but having a clue? You've got me confused with someone else. Someone OLDER...)

But oh, this is about Kate, not me and all of my angst.

So here she is, my sweet sweet Kate:









Kate loves to play piano, to read, to play with friends, to snuggle up her Daddy, to play outside. She likes Polly Pockets, dolls, and stuffed animals. She is a kind sister and friend who loves to take care of her Benny. She likes to try new foods, and loves cucumbers, Cafe Rio burritos, peanut sauce and sticky rice, Swedish pancakes, and lettuce. She truly blossomed into an amazing young girl while she was five. I can't wait to see what she does at six...because although I'm torn about it, she's going to keep growing up. Since I can't stop this train, I might as well jump on board and enjoy the ride.

The Obligatory How-Does-Time-Pass-So-Quickly-and-How-Can-I-Make-It-Stop? Post

It was Ben's birthday on Thursday. He turned two.

Yes. Two.

I spent the morning in a blur of emotion because, well, you know, he's two.

He was just born, I swear.


He just turned one, I swear.


So how could he be two?


But the calendar doesn't lie, so although my heart wants to deny it, my mind has to accept it.

And Ben at two? Oh my. Charming. Kissable. Mischievous. Darling. Darling. Darling. I want to bottle him up. I'd make a fortune (well, except people might ask for their money back when he tears into their funeral cakes or draws on their piano keys.)

Ben loves RC cars, singing, counting to 12, pizza, spaghetti, most forms of sugar, reading, dancing, his bro-bro and sissies, his daddy and mommy, Little Einsteins, Clifford, his cousins and friends, being outside, being silly, sticking out his chin when he smiles, chewing on his fingers or his coat or his collar, waffles, chocolate milk, trucks, GeoTrax, babies, and hide-and-seek. He makes us happy. He's growing up too fast. STOP IT ALREADY.

When I Said I'm Getting Old, I Meant It

After my post about my little sister Bri, I found this picture.

So when I say Briana getting married and being pregnant has made me feel a little aged, well...

You see what I mean?



And admit it, those sleeves rock.

Kid Stuff

Things I love about my 12 year old:

He's truly funny, in a sarcastic, "I know how to push your buttons" kind of way.
He is passionate about soccer and skiing.
He loves babies.
He has fallen in love with his cello again.
He often helps me the first time I ask. (I said "often." Not "always.")
His grin is so huge, it nearly splits his face in two.
Watching funny movies with him makes them double funny because his laugh is so contagious.
He thinks he is Mr. Decorator and has Major Opinions about how we have decorated for Christmas.
He wore shorts to school every day this fall until 3 days ago, when he finally decided winter had officially arrived. I don't know, maybe it was because it was 25 degrees out?

Things I love about my 9 year old:

She now goes to violin lessons without complaining.
She is amazing with Ben, and often she just carts him around with his arms around her neck.
She starts projects for school BEFORE they're due, even if I'm dragging my feet.
She has a real eye for beauty and is constantly coming up with new ideas for art projects.
She is kind to her friends.
She decided to learn the last piece in her violin book and did it in one day. Performed it the next day. Didn't care that there were rhythm issues and wouldn't let me fix them.
She constantly does these flippy things off our stairs. It makes me crazy, but it's also very cute. Freaks her Grandma out, though. She's sure she'll break her neck.
She has a very specific taste in clothes.
She is passionate.

Things I love about my 5 year old:

She is passionate about playing the piano. I didn't know there were piano students like her.
She reads with darling inflection, especially when there are exclamation points. Oh my! Wow! Oh no!
She plays with Ben in such a darling way. Except when she's bugging him and making him scream.
She wore sandals to school almost every day this year until last week. And skirts and short sleeve shirts. And hardly ever a coat. Argh.
She loves to do hard puzzles.
She eats so many more foods than the rest of the kids.
She has a sunshine spirit.

Things I love about my 20-month-old:

He hugs us and pats our backs.
He loves chocolate milk. He opens the fridge, gets out the milk, goes to the pantry, gets out the chocolate milk mix, and says, "Muk. Chokuh muk."
He answers "Yesh" with a head nod when we ask him if he wants something.
His first sentence was "I want cookies." Good boy.
He loves to be outside.
I can lay him down and he will go to sleep. It's a miracle (a miracle that was many crying nights in the making.)
He loves books, and animals, and singing, and waffles, and did I mention chocolate milk?
He feeds the dog. Too often. Yesterday it was half a loaf of whole wheat bread. It's usually half his breakfast.
He copies all of us. David was standing by the couch a couple of days ago talking to me and leaned back against it, and Ben came running over and leaned back against it too, with just the right amount of nonchalance.

I swear they change everyday. It is lovely and heartbreaking, and I wish I could stop time and soak it all in.

The First Day of School...Times Three

Kate had her first day of kindergarten today. School has officially begun...again!

Josh started last Monday. JUNIOR HIGH! My goodness. His school has a uniform, but it's rather relaxed...white, khaki, any shade of blue or green. No jeans except for Friday. Collared shirts without patterns or logos larger than a quarter, or a school t-shirt. It took us a while to figure out what he'd be comfortable wearing, but as long as he can wear khaki shorts, he'll be happy.

Sophie started third grade last Tuesday. She has a wonderful teacher and lots of friends in her class.


And my baby Kate is a kindergartner? She has been so anxious for today to come. We talked about it all summer long, and I can hardly believe the day is here. She has the same fantastic and experienced teacher Josh and Sophie both had. Her good friend Eliza is in her class, but unfortunately, Will is in the other class.


But we met up with Will after school and went to lunch together. I'm sure they'll have fun on the playground and that we'll have plenty of after-school playdates. I still pinch myself that they're actually at our school! What a treat!



We're also excited because our buddy Chad is doing pre-K at the same time as Kate's kindergarten. He has a fall birthday, so just missed the deadline. We're sad about that, but glad they can hang out on the way to and from school.

Life feels a little more quiet. Maybe I'll be able to get organized now! Oh wait...I say that every year...