A 5 year history of Sept 9th!

BIRTHDAY

One year old

2 years old

Learning the business at 3

4 years

Yesterday, rockin the hat

 It is hard to belief 5 years has passed since this little monkey joined our crew. Omar was pretty sure our family was complete with the 3 we had (all under the age of 4) when I convinced him otherwise. And now, we can't imagine our world without you, my little Leo man. You are the giggles, smiles, smirks and silliness that helps keep this ship afloat. We love you so much and are so glad you completed this family with a POW!

Happy Birthday, my small fry.

Down to One

It has been 8 years since I have been the mother to only one child. But as of this morning, I am again only caring for one for the entire week. Max has been gone already a week to Y camp, and Cal & Spence just got on the bus for their first one week camp experience this morning.

It feels super weird.

The quiet alone is disruptive. I am not being pulled in 4 different directions by 4 different pitches of "Mom, Mom, Mom..." Leo is at a play date right now, and Omar is out of town, which means I HAVE NOTHING TO DO. Now, of course, there is always something to do, but I have the freedom to browse through that list at a leisurely brunch-style-menu fashion. I think I will go for a run. This will be followed by a long hot shower.

I could then tend to the laundry, but you know what. I ain't gonna. Not gonna do it. I think I will, instead, either read or go to a coffeehouse and write.

And I'll miss by boys a little bit...

The Beauty of Sadness

When our friends, the Eklund's, let us all know they were moving, my first reaction was to turn my gaze away while silently saying "Why? Why? Why would they do that?" in my head. "Why would you ever want to leave us?" I kept a straight face, saying outwardly "Wow! That is really exciting for you guys!" and probed for further details as I tried to not let my own sadness overcome their news. It was like the "amicable" breakup in college where you are telling yourself "Yeah, you are right. This isn't working out. It's better this way. I'm totally cool with it" when you are TOTALLY NOT COOL WITH IT. The blow was softened by the qualifier that they were moving out of state, not just to a different neighborhood (which may sound odd, but the fact that it was for work and not just a new house felt better somehow). It was also softened significantly by the news that this move was (probably) temporary - New York City for 2 years.

There are so many different flavors of friendship. Acquaintances, casual drink friends, frequent dinner friends, work friends, tell-all friends, distance friends, used-to-have-a-lot-in-common friends, college buds, grad school pals. But then there are the friends who are a part of you. A part of your family. Friends that make you laugh to the point that you can't breath, and who are part of the daily fabric of your life, even if you don't see them every day. Friends with whom you can be completely, blatantly, unflatteringly yourself, and they love you all the more for it. Friends who you can cry with as comfortably as laugh with. These are the friends who are the family you choose, in addition to the family you are born into.

These are the Eklund's.

As with most precious things, rarity is one of the criteria. There are only so many friendships that can bore into you so deeply. It is also harder, I think, to make those friendships at this point in life. Everyone is busy - jobs, kids, family, exercise, making dinner, doing the homework. Where is the time to really give of yourself freely and honestly with the intention of knowing someone else as fully as you can?

So, we cry.

And then laugh. I thank my lucky stars that I cared so much about a friendship that it would hurt so much to say "see you later." And we will see you later. It won't be the same around here without you guys. But how completely fortunate our gang has been to find each other, love each other and grieve each other. It is a beautiful thing.

Gotta go

So, either this gang of ours is cursed, or we REALLY need a vacation.

6 months ago, the 5 couples of the 'hood decided we were going to kick the "We're all now in our 40's" off right with a grand trip to Mexico. 5 couples, no kids, 5 nights in Saluylita, endless margaritas. Only order of business? Learn how to surf.

One month ago, Roxie pulled her hamstrings clean off her pelvis and had to get them surgically reattached. The crutches were just jettisoned last weekend.

2 weeks ago, Mary got leg-swept by her dog on her stairway and broke off a chunk of her sacrum. She is still getting used to sitting.

Yesterday, I broke my pinky toe on a coffee table leg. Turns out walking is painful on this little bruised nub that looks like a plump, purple little smokey.

So far Erika and Pam are uninjured, but I have advised them to stay in bubble wrap for the next 17 hours until our plane takes off. The men clearly have better ju-ju than the women. They are all still standing.

Wish us luck...

Tahoe Baby!

For the New Year, we were fortunate enough to have Matt and Megan include us, yet again, on a wonderful adventure to Northstar ski mountain. Their family has an amazing home in the area and the ski conditions were great. We had absolutely no fun whatsoever...

 

Last day on the mountain

MOUSTACHE!

Massive hot tub for all

Dinner with my honey

This one pretty much sums it up.

Little detail

Tonight Max came up from the basement to pronounce that Leo was hitting his brothers their friend Mateo. So I had the 4 year old come up to talk to me.

Me: Leo, raise your hand.
Leo: I didn't DO any thing.
Me: I didn't ask you if you did anything. I asked you to raise your hand
(repeat the last two sentences ~3-4 times)
Me: Repeat after me. I will not...
Leo: I will not...
Me: ...hit my brother or Mateo
Leo:... hit my brothers with Mateo.

One little word. Big difference.

What the hell happened?

I thought I was the mother of young boys. The fact that I am not yet completely Pull-up free would support this world view. But today, I looked around and realized that I am thoroughly delusional.

The boys want to listen to KDWB (top 40!??!). Max has taken to making us omelets any morning we ask. We pay a quarter for emptying the dishwasher and making coffee, and most mornings I don't have to touch either appliance. Max can just head into the study and knock out his homework and reading solo. I tell the kids it's 10 minutes to bus time, and everyone is piling out the door 4 minutes later (+/- homework or adequate outerwear....). I can announce bedtime and everyone is actually in PJ's with teeth brushed while I stay firmly rooted to the couch watching Monday Night Football.

Last weekend, one of Max's friends came over and ALL the boys (including the 4 year old) played outside for FOUR HOURS. I went for a run, and they were still doing the same thing when I returned that they were doing when I left. (Now granted, Omar was home. We aren't to THAT stage yet. Oh, that would be just TOO crazy...).

It is remarkable how many baby-soaked years you yearn to have children able to wipe themselves, brush their own teeth, eat breakfast without assistance, dress independently (weather appropriate and in the right orientation), stop whining, stop pulling on your clothes, stop asking for uppies, and just GROW UP.

And then they do. And you didn't really see it happen.