Thankful

I'm thankful that he loves us so much and has such a strong sense of family. I'm thankful that the sage grows close to the house so there was enough that survived the snow storm to cook with. I'm thankful for the sleepy quiet rhythms we've developed for these end-of-year holidays.

Gutter Ball

We went bowling. We've done it before. It's one of those rare group activities that can be done with kids with an age spread like ours have. No one is very good. Our top scores are barely above 100 and Ellis has this weirdly successful unorthodox method of play that makes use of the bumpers so he usually ends up winning. Nevertheless, it's usually fun.

Tonight was a disaster, though. All three kids were pulling in their own directions. I could hear myself being strident and angry mom, although no one listened to a single thing I said. Josh and I felt bewildered as parents. And then there was the family in the lanes next to us with the four well-behaved kids who all seemed to like each other. There we were out in public completely sucking as a family. But we will do it again. Winter is long and you need a variety of indoor activities for all those Saturday nights. The thing you learn in long-term relationships is that there will always be another time to get it right. Over time love bears fruit if you work at it.

Art Table

Papa had a great idea for a gray day at home with the kids that I decided to implement this morning. I covered the whole dining room table with butcher paper and laid out supplies for a day-long as-you-go art project. There are usual favorites like pens, pencils, and markers as well as Charlie's new favorite that he calls "painting with ovals." Thanks to these great water colors not only is the table a work of art, but Charlie's face, hands and shirt. Perhaps the wintry indoor days that are coming won't be so bad after all.

Knitting Season

I bought a bag full of yarn in October and I have been quickly knitting my way through it over the past month. Overly ambitious projects never work for me, so I stick mainly to hats and scarves to spruce up the winter wardrobes of my beloveds. Luckily, in a family of five, someone always needs a new hat. I am nearly finished with my fourth hat and just started a scarf for myself yesterday to match the new green hat I knitted two weeks ago.

There is something wonderful about settling in for a long winter's evening with knitting needles in hand. The repetition is meditative, like a rosary, and for me, process is definitely more rewarding than product. Although, I admit, it is cool when something turns out really well. It's even more cool when my darlings ask me to make a hat for them. They know it's really a transfer of love.

Yesterday, Charlie watched me knit and said, "Mama, are you making yarn?" The kids are interested in the process, too. They are natural little makers and they tune in when they see me making something, too. Is there anything more delightfully, naturally human than to create?

On Love

Charlie used to be one of those kids who laid right down and went to sleep at night. Not anymore. Recently he insists on sitting up in his crib while he chatters to himself, sings songs loudly, and kicks his feet. This goes on for at least a half an hour and usually after a few stern warnings to go to sleep. Ellis, his roommate, has shown extreme patience with this new nighttime routine. He has chosen not to go back to sleeping in his upstairs room to get some peace and quiet because he wants to be where Charlie is. One night last week, Josh and I listened from the living room as Charlie sang a rousing rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" at the top of his lungs. When he finished, we heard Ellis's small quiet voice say, "Charlie, that sounds beautiful, but can you please sing more quietly so I can sleep?" Sometimes a life-long friendship begins with the compassion of an older brother.

Lucky Thirty-Seven

We drove southwest to Blue Mounds State Park. We soaked up the prairie and saw bison from a distance. There was a point in history when this landscape dominated the southwestern part of Minnesota - an ocean of grasses and flowers and bison like black flies all over the hillside. I reflect on the stories that preceded me in this place, tragic and triumphant. I reflect that the land goes on, more eternal than me or my little family. Our footsteps fade in the dust. I am grateful to be conscious of the transitory nature of my life so I can fully enjoy these sweet beautiful moments. I want to dedicate the time I am given to add to the human legacy of love and compassion so that this legacy outweighs the blight of ignorance and cruelty. This is our only chance to be eternal.

More Autumn Wanderings

This Friday includes:

• A crisp morning walk through Crosby Park with Charlie, checking on the marsh, picking a few asters, saying "hi" to squirrels, and quacking and flapping our arms like ducks.
• Stopping by a neighbor's makeshift pumpkin patch, putting $5 in the box for a medium carving pumpkin and three "baby pumpkins" for my own baby pumpkin.
• Cooking purple viking potato leek soup.
• Planning a possible birthday weekend trip to the southwestern Minnesota prairie.
• A backyard bonfire party at a friend's house.