cookie crumbs

We were watching a Christmas special on TV. About food... Christmas food at Disney. We oooed and ahhhed... and wished that we could somehow join in on the fun. We watched them make candy canes from pulled sugar, a six foot yule log and gingerbread houses from scratch... and even gingerbread men. That was when Cam piped up with I've never had a gingerbread man! I looked at him with a smidgen of disbelief... but then realized that he might be right. So I put it on the to-do list.
As he was leaving for school yesterday, I mentioned maybe mixing up some dough for us after school... and in return for those few words, there was a smile so wide... and a thumbs up as he headed out the door. I hoped that the visions of gingerbread men dancing in his head would leave room for a few math facts...
I did mix up the dough... having all of the ingredients on hand certainly helped my cause! But by the time the afternoon came, I was drained. Cam came home... and went right to his homework. I think he knew I was tired, because he never asked about making the cookies. I dragged myself to the kitchen to make dinner... and this little face popped out from around the corner. Need any help? I put him to work cleaning the cabinet fronts... and pushed myself a little more. When the chicken was simmering, I pulled out the flour and the rolling pin... and showed him how. He rolled and dusted with flour. He lined the cookie cutter up to get the most out of the sheet of thin dough... and we popped those guys into the oven. Cam was smiling the whole way. Pushing through just a little more, we mixed up a batch of royal icing... because if you are going to have your first gingerbread man, you need the whole experience...

I could see the excitement in his eyes as he readied himself for his first taste... and I hope he could see the love in mine. Do you like it? And his affirmative response came muffled with a full mouth of spicy cookie... and a few stray cookie crumbs.

Unwrap a Tuesday with Emily at Chatting at the Sky....

(wow... this is post #400! who would've thought i would ever have this much to say?!)

the readers

They have always loved books.
Always.
Laura was an early reader. Three months into kindergarten I brought home a few learn-to-read books to practice with her... thinking that it would be a good start. She was thrilled... and proceeded to sit right down and read every word. The first time through. And there has been no stopping her since. My daughter would rather read a book then do anything else. If you see her without a book in tow, please let me know... because there is likely to be something really wrong!
Camden started slowly. He wasn't too interested in the words... or even the letters. He just really loved the books themselves. He would lay on the floor for hours (yes, hours... even at two and three years old!) amidst a shelf's worth of books, turning page after page. In first grade he was still struggling...and I truly believe that if not for his love of books themselves, he might have given up on reading. But that summer... someone gave him a stack of Garfield comic books. I will never forget the day... we were driving along and a shout of glee-filled laughter filtered up to the front. What are you doing back there? And he replied... I'm reading. And I could not stop those tears from falling.
Saturday morning we were making our way to Gramma's... and Laura had her nose in her current book. Camden was just watching the world fly by as we closed the distance between home and Gramma's. Looking up for a moment, she noticed that he wasn't really doing anything. No video game. No book. And she said I have another book with me if you want to read it. Igiggled to myself... not surprised at all! She went on to explain the plot and added in that she thought he would enjoy it.
And so... those readers of mine... they read.

I love to seek the beauty in the ordinary... and I love Tuesdays at Chatting at the Sky!

a most beautiful gift

It is Wednesday, and I am almost regretting taking Monday off. Almost... but not quite... because it was too much fun mixing up cheese balls with my Mom and my kids. But the week is looking long. Any other week I would be rejoicing that tomorrow is Thursday... but now I am just hoping for the energy to get through a few more days.
It is Wednesday. And Wednesday is piano day. I love it dearly... but in the getting there I start to droop. Leave work. Drive half-way home. Pick up Camden in the Super Target parking lot, where either Eric or Gran meets up with me. Drive back within two miles of work. Enjoy Camden's 30 minute lesson. Drive home. Make dinner... fall in a heap on the couch and cringe at the view. But all the while, I know there is only one more work day and I can make amends for the housework that has been left to itself and multiplied in my absence. But not this week. Monday off... work Friday. To prepare for our big fundraising event on Saturday.
After work today... as I was heading down five flights of stairs, my phone rang. Eric. Please don't tell me you have already left for Target. But I push aside the thought and answer with, I'm sure, a less than pleasant hello. His voice, twenty miles away, had a big idea. How about I drive into town with Cam so you don't have to drive all the way out here? I almost cried. But instead I breathed a thank you... and smiled. Honestly... the gift he gave me in that moment was more beautiful than if he had presented me with a dozen roses. And in his thoughtfullness, I am blessed with that extra bit of energy I need to get through the week.

imagination begins with i

... and so does ice.

My Florida boy dreams of snow. I sometimes think there is nothing he would like better... to see it snow... to live where it snowed... to live in an igloo. It didn't surprise that he was attracted to this pile of ice... dumped after a long night at the concession stand. And I wasn't too shocked that he wanted to play in it. Scooping it up in his hands, he tossed it up into the air over and over again... making it "snow." Didn't matter if clunked him on the head... in fact, I think he thought that was just as much fun.
Watching the joy and excitement on his face filled my heart with laughter. Try as I might, I could not capture the moment on film, and decided that the best way to hold the memory close to my soul was to put down the camera... and join in the fun.

It is A to Z Monday at Jen's Unglazed...

waiting on fall

Although my mouth speaks bravely of waiting until November for the cool... the rest of my whole self longs for that first chill in the air. That first breath of relief. But I do not grow impatient... I courageuously wait for November. Sometimes though... there comes an unexpected gift. A gift of a cooler breeze than I have felt in six months. A gift of crisp, clean air. It might not last the week... but I will enjoy it while it is here. The windows are finally open, circulating the real air... that God made, not my air conditioner. And the afternoon sky seems bluer... just a touch more vibrant... but I suppose, who would not be? Basking in the light coolness after lumbering under the heaviness of humidity. Taking full advantage of this gift... I found a place outside to enjoy the last few chapters of my book. I stirred up a pot of white chicken chili... to be shared by a fire with friends. I sat and enjoyed... and even slipped on a light jacket. When summer stretches from May until the last few days in October, I cannot help but receive Fall as a most welcome gift... and celebrate.
...and I am not the only one. These hands belong to the boy who, upon climbing from his bed asked Is it cold out? He was hoping it would be freezing last week. Not so he would feel cooler, but so that he could enjoy a steaming cup of cocoa.

I'm linking this up to Emily's Chatting at the Sky for Tuesday's Unwrapped... definitely a piece of the ordinary to celebrate!

pelican starts with p

These pictures are courtesy of my son... the CAMera Guy. He took them a few years ago with his Gramma... and I love them. Of course, I do love pelicans anyway. They are part of my first Florida experience... and when Florida comes to mind I automatically think pelicans and palm trees. I never thought that I would actually live here though... and that those pelicans and palm trees would be a part of my everyday life. Yes, I am a lucky girl.

I fell in love with pelicans on the pier in St. Petersburg. The was this ramshackle bait shop... selling bait, of course, but also trying to make the most of his hungry pelican situation by selling fish as "Pelican Food" and offering the opportunity to feed the pelicans. We did buy a little bag of fish... and those hungry birds flocked to our feet... beaks open and ready for their snack. I don't think I had the guts to touch one of those fish, but my parents fed the pelicans and we laughed outrageously at the pelican who stole the plastic bag that had once contained the fish. (Suz, I'm sure he was just going to recycle that baggie... no hate mail, please!)

Last summer on the beach we watched them fly so close to the water that their wings would just skim the surface... or we'd laugh as they spotted a fish in the depths of the ocean and dive straight down. Bombers! Cam would yell... and he dubbed it the the summer of peace, love and pelicans.

Pelican starts with P... and they make me happy.

I was so sorry to miss a couple more weeks of Jen's Z to A game... hopefully I am right back on track. I'm headed there now... to see what other things start with P!

music and laughter

Those flying fingers make me smile. A lot. And the smile usually turns to laughter within a few beats of the metronome. Ms. Julie knows just what Camden needs... and ratcheting it up a notch is just the thing. That boy of mine certainly loves a challenge.
And I love piano lessons.
Wednesday afternoons just wouldn't be the same without them.
When Camden first started taking lessons, Ms. Julie invited me to sit in on the first few. I grew quite comfortable on her spare piano bench... and I told her that she should kick me out... but in three years, she never has. And either has Camden. Truthfully, I'm not sure I could stand to be sitting in the waiting room... listening to the laughter and wondering what could be so much fun on the other side of the wall. And so there I am, week after week, a part of that laughter: smirking at Kooka-burro (the stuffed donkey who is not a Democrat)as he sits atop the piano... arching my eyebrows at the twinkies (those little mistakes that are inevitable)... chatting about the new studio and marvelling at the fact that even when she is talking, she never misses a beat or a wrong note and encourages the correction... and watching their fingers fly together as they play as fast as they can without making a mistake, which is apparently a great way to learn.
I never leave that lesson without wanting to throw my arms around Ms. Julie and thank her... for the lesson, of course... but also for knowing my son and knowing just how to teach him.
As for the music... it is coming right along. He gets better and better each week... ready to learn something new or take a song to the next level. And never once... has he ever not wanted to go to his lesson.
I love piano lessons... the music, the laughter... and the love.

tears on sunday

We have our fair share of scuffles… but usually nothing that the Crooked-Mom-Eye look won’t stop. And it is fairly rare that one of our children just downright disobeys. But it happens. Or… it happened. This weekend. Somehow… I was able to keep my cool.
Over the years I have learned that it is most effective to let them stew and wonder what I’m thinking… but really, my heart was broken. Not necessarily about what was done… but about the lie that followed. I suppose that over the years I have also learned that a flash of anger is easier to set aside than lingering disappointment. So I sat in the living room and waited it out. I sat, with my broken heart… while he was in his room doing who knows what. And then I sat some more… until I couldn’t stand it for another minute.
He was tucked under his blanket in his bed, reading. Sitting myself down on the side of his bed, I sighed. He curled around and sat looking at me… with red-rimmed eyes that looked ready to spill. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me? And in that moment I was thankful for the misstep. Thankful… for the chance to remind him that I will always forgive him. Thankful... for the love that God placed in my heart and the certainty in knowing that there isn’t a thing in this world that either of my children could do that would stop me from loving them. Thankful… that my son, closer now to thirteen than twelve, could throw himself into my arms and hang on...letting relief wash over him.
I am hopeful... that it will be a long while before we sit in disappointment again and that the lesson has been learned. But God does have a way of working good into the bad, and since I am trying to see the brighter side, I will say that I surely love seeing His work.

personalized

Growing up, one of my favorite stores was Paperama. There you could find those glamorous tissue paper disco balls in every pastel color, bridal shower umbrellas that rained paper rose petals... along with every other paper good to make your party complete. They also had... personalized pencils. I would spin that rack 'round and around... searching for my name. More often than not... I would walk away frustrated and move along to the next spinner. Once in a great while though, my name did indeed appear among the others... and when that happened, my face could hardly contain my smile. I didn't need to have the item... just knowing my name had appeared was somehow enough.

So why... did I choose an unusual name for my sweet son? Truthfully, there have been moments when I have regretted my choice. I do recall thinking about this when we were choosing names... but I had fallen so completely in love with the name before he was even a breath in my body... and then there was no other choice to make. I rationalized that the name Cameron was so popular that someone was bound to start personalizing things with Cam... but I was wrong. Maybe, if Laura's name wasn't stamped across pencils and rulers and... well, stamps, then I might not feel so badly. And while life is not necessarily fair... I know that in this instance, I had a hand in the unfairness. My guilt has prompted me to celebrate his name and urge him to feel more special than left out. And being the great kid he is... that line of thought has been embraced whole-heartedly. Over the years, we have made due... and gone out of our way to find opportunity- we had a sheriff's star engraved at Disney World... we have had leather bracelets stamped... and we have sent away for items to be inscribed. It might seem silly to some... but if you have ever looked for your name and been disappointed, then you just might understand.

This week... a very special friend made my son's eyes light up and his mouth squish up in an "o" before it quickly unfolded into a grin. On her trip to Maine... she dug behind all of the pink hats and found a blue one... and brought it home... for a boy whose name is almost as extraordinary as he is.

To be honest... Camden's eyes weren't the only ones to light up... although my eyes might have been the only ones moist with love.

success!

Another successful first-day-of-school send off...
I am so thankful my kids like school. Camden might tell you otherwise... but the thing is, he really enjoys learning, and school is a great place to do just that. I was greeted with smiling faces after their long first day... and a few new supply lists! As the evening wore on we heard stories of the day and tidbits about teachers and friends... and it was as much fun to listen as it was to see the joy in their eyes. This morning they are moving a bit more slowly... but when you stay up a bit later to organize all of your new supplies, that is likely to happen. Laura is hoping that today they will start working with clay in her ceramics class. I hope so, too... because it sounds like fun. But really... I am just hoping... that tonight will be homework-free once again!

time for a hair cut

Summer traveling and vacation has led to a head full of hair...
But schedules have matched up and today was the day for a hair cut.


Ahhhh... there is my boy.
I was looking for you.

A laugh is a smile that bursts.-Mary H. Waldrip

there's no place like home

I had my own illusions of their homecoming... hearing their voices as they climbed out of the car... and their traipsing of feet as they raced to the door... and into my waiting arms. But I am not that kind of Mama. I am the kind of Mama that is waiting in the driveway as soon as I hear they are getting off the highway... even though it is ten minutes away. I am the kind of Mama that turns her head to look at every passing car as it drives on by... even though I know it is couldn't possibly be them yet. I am the kind of Mama that raced to the car door before it was completely open, so I could embrace those kids that I love so much.

I would have liked to take a photo of Cam tumbling out of the car... but then my arms would have been too full for him. I would've liked to take a picture of Laura's animated face as she told about her adventures over our pizza dinner... but her smile was brighter than a camera would have captured. Thank you, Jo, for reminding me of these things, and for reminding me that being in the moment is better than the photo you could snap.

They are still sleeping...snug in their freshly made beds... and as I wait for their sleepy eyes to appear this morning, I am thankful for...

...this beautiful mess.