A Running Collection

Today was priceless. It didn't begin that way. A bit tired and grumpy, the children fumbled through a cereal breakfast. George didn't even get through his bowl while dealing with behaviors before 8 a.m.. The regular clean up and animal feeding followed. I was preparing to strap on the second cup of coffee to make it through the morning when a dear friend called and wanted to know if Amelia could play. For most mother's this sounds like a dream, but I have two peas in a pod. My dear Amelia and sweet George Wilder don't do much without each other. I thought we would give it a shot. Amelia left and George Wilder wept. His heart broke in two. He sat on my lap and cried big crocodile tears and his heart heaved with the ache of separation. Oh how I understand his pain. Once again, I had an older sister that I adored and it broke me to watch her grow wings and fly just one step ahead. Five minutes later, we were building a train set and reading books. Then we navigated our car...

The floor is slightly clean. The linoleum squares pocked with marks from toys and chairs and lots of kitchen activity. It is the room we are in the most; and now, the kitchen floor has become my camp. William's bouncy seat sits in the corner and as long as I am here on the floor and can talk to him, he is a happy fellow. He loves to talk. He coos and bubbles and hums and laughs while I sip my Earl Gray tea and write while sitting on my halfway clean linoleum square. He has another place that is about as convenient as this one. He loves his changing table. I call it his Zen Station. I've clocked up to 45 minutes standing there talking to him while he laughs and smiles. He loves to read here. The pile of books on the corner grows and we've even figured out how George Wilder can perch there with him while we read. My legs get shaky tired, but I wouldn't trade these moments for the world. All of this talking means very little cooking. The cooking isn't happening. George...

As we explode here with diapers, dinners, and dirt, George's mind explodes with how to piece together his research data into information that will help other educators in the future and bring an end to his studies here at UGA. He is in the thick of working on his dissertation. When George's mind is on a roll, it doesn't just roll in academia, it rolls on out into the kitchen and right into the music room/office/play room. It is always a surprise to see what direction he goes. He has created some Ethiopian cuisine that is crazy good. The kids dig some of it and then they have to dig deep to eat the others. It is really good food. It does require a good bit of forethought. He has worked late into the night several times to get the sauces just right so that we can have them for dinner the next evening. Then there is the ice cream. George got an ice cream maker for Christmas. He has currently created coffee, chocolate, butter pecan, lemon, lime, egg nog, and vanilla. Seriously,...

The simple smiles of sweet William are precious. He has a great collection of noises and coos. He is reaching out and grabbing. He is looking and watching and smiling, especially at the children. He is so very content and laid back. Laid back? We are not sure where that came from. It was MLK Day yesterday. I told Amelia and George Wilder it was a holiday, so we spent some time on the internet watching some footage from the civil rights movement and talked about how some people don't treat other people fairly. We've talked a good bit about slavery already and why it is wrong. After our little youtube extravaganza, we collected some paper and colored pencils and sat at the table to make some cards. I went to put William down for a nap and returned to this picture. Amelia explained that the brown person was chained down by the white person. She said it was a picture of who "that man" was trying to help. Wow. George Wilder drew an airplane, a pair of pants, and a big ...

It was the end of the afternoon and the beginning of the evening. I didn't think I was tired but then as the words spilled out of my mouth and I couldn’t catch them I felt the exhaustion. They splashed hot onto George Wilder’s heart. He to was definitely tired when it all began after he neglected to actually sleep during his nap; but there had to be more behind the screams directed at his sister when I opened the back door. Certainly it wasn’t just because he wanted to swing more and longer and better. He adores her. He believes in her. She is his hero. She is his older sister; yet, his words were tearing her to pieces and she wasn’t enjoying it. I sent George Wilder to his room. Five minutes. It felt like an eternity to him I’m sure. He probably thought I would ask him to apologize and head back out to play, but I thought I would explain that Amelia would not enjoy playing with him if he was yelling at her all the time. It made sense to me . It all came out with as muc...

A lettuce patch in January. Chocolate brown eggs. Emu feathers. Surface tension experiments. Little man William. Bath time William. Typical January's feel bleak and gray. This warm, spring like entrance into 2012 is full of color and activity. We've found a rhythm with William and warmth. Now, I don't know that anyone could make music out of it, but it is a rhythm. The step step step of my feet hit the pavement. It is the beat my feet make on a brisk morning run. My legs still burn on the hills, but to run again is beautiful. I breathe in and out and close my eyes. It is so quiet. There is such solace in the silence surrounding me and the letting go of everything except the basic need to breathe in and out in and out. After a mile, my thoughts form order. They shape into prayers, ideas, and strategies for the day. I think through the last 24 hours and contemplate what I could have done differently or better. I consider how to build on a lesson we are working through, I pray...

I ’m always a little slow with resolutions, but I believe in them, they just take time. Usually, around mid January, they solidify and there is actual resolve in my heart and mind to take action. My inspiration to follow through -- one of my great hero’s – my brother-in-law, Jade. He is the master of deciding on a plan and doing it. I watch him and see that it is possible. Last year, I made a thoughtful and gutsy move. Only one resolution: I would not buy any new clothes for one year. This idea rose from the depths of my soul. Seriously, it did. I was folding clothes one afternoon while the children napped. I noticed the tag on a piece of clothing: Malaysia. I don’t even know where that is. Somewhere in Asia I guess. There was one from Egypt. Then Vietnam, Taiwan, Guatemala, China, China again, Mexico, Sheri Lanka, Cambodia, India. Sixteen countries later, the load was folded. All but two of the countries were third world countries. Anger rose up within me. What was the deal? Pil...