I have a thing for laundry hanging on lines.  One would think having such a fascination might predispose me to an enjoyment of actually doing laundry.  Not so, I say!  Instead, I feed my fascination by photographing laundry in Lancaster County.  There’s something very innocent and pristine about a load of Amish laundry set out to dry.

These last two are from New York City.   Not as quaint as the laundry from Lancaster County, but interesting to me all the same.

On the way to school this morning Gabe and I talked about a book by Audrey Penn, The Kissing Hand.  It’s a tender story about a little raccoon who doesn’t want to leave his mother and go to school.  To help him feel better, the mother kisses his paw and tells him that anytime he’s lonely he can put his paw to his face and feel her love.  In return, the little raccoon kisses the mother’s hand so she can feel his love while he’s gone.  Gabe’s class read it yesterday and did hand prints for the parents, complete with a heart-shaped sticker on the palm.

Eyes welling?  Check.

Lump in throat? Check.

Pounding heart? Check.

When I told Gabe this morning that I’d miss him, he explained that I could just use his artwork so I’d feel his love while I was gone.  Trying to finagle a little more, I asked if he’d at least kiss my hands.  Nope, the artwork would be sufficient, he insisted.  I opted for a new approach.  Would he consider drawing a heart on my palm?  Sure!  What child refuses the opportunity to draw on his parent?

I tossed back a pen and he proceeded to DRIVE it into my palm, oblivious to the amount of pressure being exerted.  But it was all for love, so I gritted my teeth and asked him to color in the outline once he was done.

The result?

I held my heart in my hand all day long.  It made me smile.

I took a journey.

A very long journey.

I planned the details of my journey for a long time.

But once I left it was so much more than I ever could have imagined.

You know how you go away and you feel like a different person because life isn’t the same?

Well, my journey was so long that I became a different person

I loved that person.

And now my journey’s over.

At least this leg of the trip.

And life has gone back to “normal.”

In “normal land” I can’t be the same person I was on my journey.

But it was such a long trip

That I don’t know who I am

Or who I want to be.

I want to keep being the person I was on my journey.

(Our requisite first day of school picture, which I think I’m going to have to retake. lol  He refused to stand still and it was raining outside so it was almost impossible for me to get a reasonable photo inside. Not to mention he was daft that he wasn’t going to smile so I had to catch his “regular” face between any number of strange and twisted facial contortions!)

All in all, I think I’d have to say today was a success. Gabe went to school. Gabe did not cry. Tahd and I went to school. Tahd and I did cry.  Go figure.  We picked him up a few hours later (today and tomorrow are half days) and he seemed remarkably good-spirited and not averse to going back tomorrow.  That’s a win in my book!

He saved a goody for his way into into the school, though.  It really broke the ice as far as I was concerned.  As we were walking toward the doors, Tahd took Gabe’s hand.  I reached for his other hand, but he refused.  Turning to Tahd, he explained, “I’ll hold your hand because you’re my BFF.  Mommy’s just my BF so I won’t hold her hand.  You and I are a team.  We’re BFFs!”

I’m still not clear about where he heard the term “BFF” but it was good for a laugh and kept me chuckling all the way to the door.

Tonight, as I was finishing up putting him to bed, he said, “Mommy, I want to tell you something.”  Noting the gravity in his voice, I told him, “Okay.  You can tell me anything or ask me anything at anytime.  I want you to know that!”  Nonplussed by my disclaimer he carried on, “When I grow up, I’m 100% sure that I’m never going to get married.  Not at all.  I just want you to know that I’m not going to get married.  I know I won’t.  I know I won’t get married.  I’m really not going to.”

Okay, dude.  I catch your drift!  No need to reiterate further!

Curious, I asked why.  He explained that if he didn’t get married we could just all live together!  Of course!  I said that was fine with me but that there would probably come a day when he’d want his own space, and he had the most novel solution.

“Well,” he said, “I know what we can do.  We’ll sell this house and get a bigger one, you know, because this one isn’t very big.  We’ll take all our things to the new house, except not the baby toys because we probably won’t need those ones.  Our house will have one bedroom and six and a half bathrooms.  The half bathroom will have a ‘yournal,’ you know?  And then we’ll all live in that bigger house.”

“Will it be big enough so that we can all have our own personal space in the house?” I wanted to know.

“No, so we can all live together.”

I couldn’t figure it out.  ”But why is there only one bedroom?” I inquired.

“So we can all sleep together in the same room, Mommy!”

Of course.  Silly Mommy!  Why couldn’t I have figured that one out on my own?

I did a *horrible* job on pictures this week.  Just horrible!  I’m working on the whole “old-fashioned mirror” situation, too, so that you can actually see the clothes in the picture rather than the clouds in the mirror.

tunic – loft, courtesy of my “outlet” shopping trip ($36)
jean capris – hand-me-downs
shoes – my favorite metallic ones from target ($18ish)

We drove all day on Friday and I didn’t think to take pictures before we left the hotel.
Saturday and Sunday I just plain forgot!

tank – bitten by sjp (less than $10)
dress –  gap on clearance several years ago ($??)
shoes – metallic ones from target again

I’m hiding behind my camera because my hair and makeup were totally undone. I didn’t do them until much, much later – just in time for dinner company to come for Gabe’s party.

shirt – loft ($30?)
shorts – loft ($30?)

Linking up at:

It hit me quite by surprise.

Gabe was running wildly through the house, bike horn in hand, squeezing his fingers around its bulb with abandon, causing the vibrations in my head to buzz and my ears to ring.  I had taken a breath – moms will know the breath I mean.  It’s the one where you’re inhaling to raise your voice above the din in the hopes of creating some peace, just a moment’s peace.

And then I stopped.

Tomorrow?  Tomorrow there will be no noise.  My house will be quiet.  There will be no one to loudly and persistently interrupt my thoughts and my to-do list.  No one will nag me all day long to play, to listen, to follow the rules, to go upstairs, to come downstairs, to hide, to look, to “turn off my thinking skills.”

I never thought I’d actually say it, but I will miss those interruptions.

So instead of following my quick breath with a raised voice, I followed it with…

nothing.

I was quiet.  He was not quiet.  But I was.  And I listened.  And tried to quiet the ringing in my ears so I could enjoy the moment and the day.

When Gabe woke up this morning I suggested we might want to have a special dinner in honor of his last day being a preschooler.  His eyes lit up and he instantaneously planned an elaborate dinner party, full of games and tours and tip baskets.  Always an entrepreneur, I guess!  He begged me to invite guests, so I called my parents and my sister who’s local and we collectively generated a small crowd for him.

The menu for our fete was zucchini chicken casserole, rice pilaf, salad, and Magnolia Bakery knockoff cupcakes to make up for the ones we left on the bus in NYC.

Not high class, I know, but things that make my child smile.

Granted, I don’t know why I worried too much about that because the moment the guests arrived?

He

Started

Bouncing

Off

The

Walls!!!

But again, I tried to let it go because I figured the insanity and intensity betrayed his anxiety, and it’s always better to let anxiety out than force it to remain in a confined space.

For the most part, we’ve all been less anxious since yesterday.  Yesterday we visited the school, met his lovely teacher, saw his classroom, dropped off his things, and checked out “recess” (aka the playground).  The whole time I was there I kept thinking, “He is really going to be here, all day every day?  Really?” But of course, he is, and of course it will be good for him, and of course it will be good for me.  But oh!  How I will miss him!

Of course.

While we were in Pennsylvania, I forced us to take a walk one afternoon.  It was hot and humid and he was overtired and neither of us wanted to walk.  But we did, partly because we needed the fresh air and partly because we didn’t have anything else to do.  Along the way, his hand slunk up to mine and he wrapped his fingers around mine, all of his own volition.  I loved it.  Normally when we hold hands it’s because the hand-holding was preceded by something that went sort of like, “Gabriel! Come here right now! You need to hold my hand because you are running away from me! In a parking lot! It’s not safe!  No, hold my hand. No, you can’t wiggle free. No, you have to hold my hand. Because you do.”  I much prefer the first approach to hand-holding – the one where it’s all Gabe’s idea and there’s no coercion involved.

It happened again on the way into his school, and again while we were at the mall with my mother looking for school clothes.  In fact, at the mall, he wanted to hold my hand and wanted me to hold my mother’s hand so we could be a train, him holding Jerry the Mouse in front and the rest of us trailing behind.  We must have seemed like quite a spectacle traipsing through the mall 3.5 deep, but something occurred to me while I walked.  How long had it been since I held my mother’s hand?  A long time, to be sure.  I really couldn’t remember how long it had been.  Years and years, at least.  Maybe decades? And then I wondered.  When was the last time I held her hand?  Was there a point at which we just held hands less, or did I suddenly decide holding hands with my mother wasn’t cool and I just wouldn’t do it anymore?  Does she remember the last time we held hands?  Will I remember the last time Gabe holds my hand?

I’m not sure about this growing up thing.  I’m happy for Gabe and excited for all the new experiences he’ll encounter.    But I don’t want to miss it.  I’ve already missed too much due to depression and anxiety and laziness and distraction.  I want it – all of it – locked up safely in my heart.  Not so much that I can’t appreciate the wonder of what lies ahead, but enough that I can revisit the past with a smile on my face and peace in my mind.

School starts tomorrow.  Maybe I’ll be ready then!

When we went to Florida, we had family photos taken by Kelle Hampton.  We also did a balloon release to honor Mara during the photo shoot.  It was a lovely and very sacred hour of my life, and I’ve treasured the memories of it since then.  Now, I have the photos, too!

I’ll do a separate post with the balloon release photos.  This will be just family photos.

I am sooooooooooooo happy to be home!  SO happy!  I actually popped out of bed Friday morning when I realized we we going HOME that night!  I can’t tell you what a rarity it is for me to pop anywhere, let alone out of bed! Our trip was fast and easy – much shorter than we expected, and it was lovely to see my house and my family and especially my bed!

It has been an unusual weekend, though.  Not bad, just unusual.  Like the popping out of bed.  It wasn’t bad – just incredibly uncommon!  As were a few other things that happened.

I Sewed

I am far from a seamstress.  Very, very far.  I can sew straight lines.  Sort of.  And that about covers it.  But Gabe needed a nap mat for kindergarten and had asked me to make one for him, so I thought I’d give it a shot.

No one needs me creating any sort of sewing tutorial, but I can link you to the one I used.  It was really quite simple, if I do say so myself.  That’s not to say mine looks great.  From a distance, it looks passable.  Up close, the novice-ness of my sewing ability is glaringly obvious.  I’m only hoping it doesn’t fall apart within the first week of school.  But the way Gabe’s eyes lit up when I showed it to him and the way he pulled me close last night and whispered to me that he wanted to sleep in his nap mat last night? Priceless!

What made the sewing thing particularly unusual was that I started and finished a project within 24 hours.  That’s almost unheard of in my house!  A seasoned sewer could probably knock out this project in an afternoon.  It was very straight-forward.

Gabe Is Starting School and I’m Excited

Where did this excitement come from?  I realized I had turned a corner when I arrived home to a letter “reminding” (aka informing me for the first time) that the first two days of school are half days for kindergarteners.  I was instantaneously disappointed.  Maybe even a little bit crestfallen!  All my plans!  Projects!  My fresh start!  It was all being delayed by about one more week.  What??!!?!

I’m going to be okay, I think.  This doesn’t mean I won’t cry and the transition won’t take a lot out of me, but this is going to be good. It is going to work. We are all going to be okay.

Phew.

I Felt Happy

Somewhere between Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, a switch flipped in me.  I don’t know what happened and I can’t tie it to anything.  I had no strong epiphanies while we were away, no sources of new-found hope, no positive pregnancy tests.  But all of a sudden?  I smiled, and the smile came from the inside.  It felt good.  It continued through Saturday and through most of today, also.  It faded a little this afternoon, but that’s okay.  I enjoyed it while it lasted and hopefully it will come again.  It is nice to smile.

I Wore Pyjamas All Day on Sunday

Wait.  That’s normal. It was lovely.

Oh

beautiful

Pennsylvania

Dutch

country

we

are

really

going

to

miss

you

and

your

charm!

Loads of repeats, courtesy of the fact that I’m living out of a suitcase.  Also, we did laundry last weekend, but we didn’t realize Gabe had stashed some crayons in his pocket.  Fun.  I ruined an entire load of laundry.  <sigh>

Apparently I did things wrong last week.  I’m supposed to post Wednesday’s picture as the first day of my week, not the last.  So I’m repeating the picture I did from last Wednesday.  My pictures sucked this week – I did a bad job at focusing.

green dress – borrowed from my sister, but my husband wants me to steal it from her
white flip flops – gap, totally destroyed, but I found new ones at the local gap outlet <yay!>
necklace – lisa leonard

hat – local shop
brown tee – old navy
white tank – probably gap, but I’m not sure
shorts – limited
white flip flops – gap
necklace – lisa leonard

blue tank – Target
white tank – again, no clue – some tanks were casualties of the washing machine/crayon incident
shorts – loft
shoes – target; they’re a metallic color and I bought them to replace my other metallic shoes which I totally wore out.  I’m bummed, though, because they hurt my feet
necklace – lisa leonard

our trip to NYC!

black tank – Liz Lange; honestly, it’s a maternity one I bought when I was pregnant, but I love it so much and it’s so perfect so I keep wearing it
skirt – gap
flip flops – same yucky gap ones
short necklace – lisa leonard
long necklace – silpada

I attempted to rock out the bangs.  It did not go well.  I had them pinned back within about an hour.

cardigan – anthropologie (clearance!!!  yay!!!)
black tank – h&m
capris – my sister’s closet
black flats – walmart
short necklace – lisa leonard
long necklace – silpada

Don’t you love how Gabe is being the Statue of Liberty?

white sleeveless shirt – macy’s, I think
shorts – loft
shoes – target
there’s a necklace there and it’s lisa leonard, but you can’t really see it

I didn’t take pictures on Tuesday, but the outfit was nearly identical to Sunday’s except with a gray tank and a yellow flower pinned to the cardi.