Showing posts from January, 2017

Hannah Has It

Hannah has two blankets. They are her Bs. One has monkeys on it and if you are really special, or she is feeling generous, she will share the monkey one with you for awhile.  Hannah has several baby dolls. They come and go out of her life, but she has a real desire to care for them, which primarily means changing their diapers and pushing them and mach speeds in their strollers through the house.  Hannah has a serious love for the trampoline. Clear off. She is on it and it is her turn. Hannah Turn!!! She jumps and jumps and flips and turns and loves a few rounds of “Ring Around The Rosy” if your up for it. Hannah has a keen interest in William's affairs. He is  Wii” She wants to know if he is ready for the day, if he has brushed his teeth, if he has had his super, if he is okay. She wakes up from her nap, “Wii?” She helps with William. So helpful she is… Hannah has a strong desire to be in the middle of everything we are doing and loudly.  Hannah has a

George Wilder Is Nine

George Wilder. Our nine year old boy is fast as lightening, competitive, passionate, smart, determined, helpful, kind, gentle, a jokester, an actor, a musician, a friend, a farmer, and a real rascal. He runs like the wind.  He speeds along on his bike.  He wants to always be in the front on bikes, on a hike, on a run. He wants to do every imaginable flip on the trampoline.  He wants to do every card trick and card game and game and he will win — most of the time. He loves to read and read and read.  He is a fast learner. He hears it and he knows it. He sees it and he knows it. He soaks songs up like an ol’ juke box. He is a library of songs just like his daddy. He will play a song over and over and over until he has it just right.  We recently watched the broadway musical, Oliver. He has fallen in love with the characters and the story and the music. He dresses as a pick pocket or an orphan and sings the songs over and over. If you come over, be ready t

Amelia and George Wilder Capturing Home

We are studying Ansel Adams. Our artist friend, Michael, came over and gave them some pointers.  They are learning the "why" of a photo. They are learning view point and story telling and the rule of thirds. They see life stories as a series of photos and they see their world from new angles.

Losing Lucy

When every white pile of sheets or bags or toys or blanket bundle isn’t Lucy. When the brush of air isn’t Lucy. And the sound of clicking toe nails is something besides Lucy coming around the corner. Our hearts are alone for a minute because she is gone.  When there isn’t a welcome home howl every time we come home. When the bustling house bursting with everything feels empty. Lucy is gone. She came to us gently and left us gently. She was safety and fun and warmth and grace and forgiveness and love and loyalty. She welcomed all four children home. She let them all love her as we did. She loved the places we loved and patiently bore with us when we dragged her to strange destinations…like a wedding. I don’t think we knew what else to do. She always came, so she came to weddings and funerals. Restaurants. Schools. She came on vacations. She went with us cross country to Colorado. She climbed mountains, swam in the ocean. She moved with us four times.

William On Being Five

We start with Thanksgiving. Sometimes, William's birthday falls on Thanksgiving Day, but usually, we are still trying to finish off leftovers before we are making cake and celebrating William. George had a gig down in Apalachicola so we took a family trip to the beach thinking we would build sandcastles and have a picnic lunch as we watched the water. Within 30 seconds, William was diving through the water and dancing all about. That's our William. He is five this year. A big day for him. Five feels big. Big smiles, big cries, big ideas, big trouble, big adventures, big imagination, big desires, big appetite. He's such a strong spirit. He loves hard and thinks intensely. His desire to keep up with dinner conversations often leads him to miss eating his dinner when we are eating. Some nights, we send him to the porch with big tears and dragging feet, but every time dinner is gone and he is set to go. He wants to be a storm trooper and a knight and a cowboy and a ki