We keep reaching out a hand

It got to the point that my blog absence was so long I became anxious to write one. Surely everyone will expect my best work for this return.

All I have to say is: lower your expectations.

I also considered ending the post right here as a humorous tribute to how low the expectations should be.

This was one of the best summers we’ve had. The kids are so fun right now, so capable and creative. Look at these pictures of what they’ve done. Benji made that red boat out of legos completely from his mind. And J created an entire pretend ice cream store: What’s the Scoop?

I couldn’t bear for summer to end. When they went back to school in August I was morose. It took me a few weeks to understand why. They love school, they were happy to see friends and return to routine. My work schedule became significantly more consistent and easier to manage. After some reflection I realized it wasn’t the transition that grieved me; it was marking the passage of time. Kids change so much in a school year. They will finish in May and look different, be taller, talk in new ways and have different interests. Whereas in summer time stands still. Every day is hot and filled with swimming and popsicles. Every day they look the same with tan brown skin and white blonde hair. Every day we do the same thing as the day before but nobody minds. I just wanted to freeze time a little longer.

Summer was also a tough season of parenting some big topics. The horrible flooding in TX – watching our kids wrestle with tragedy on an incomprehensible scale; shootings; friends moving away; that time I bought a seeded watermelon….

Most of our car rides involved some conversation around heavy feelings. We were driving to the Y one morning and middle child says, “Mom. I just need to ask you this question, it’s really been bothering me.”

We were so close, I was turning into the parking lot! I could see the building! We had made it a whole 10 minutes without questioning the universe. Oh boy. So I took a deep breath, “yeah buddy? What’s on your mind?”

“Well. You know when astronauts go to space and it takes years to travel all the way to Jupiter? How do they stay hydrated?”

Not what I was expecting, but not necessarily any easier to answer than the meaning of life.

Then there was the time we were driving to school for meet the teacher night. All the feelings from all three kids that day. Especially the oldest, as she had a new teacher and mom had bought her five green folders instead of one red, one blue, one purple, one yellow and one green as the school supply list had specified. Apparently the subjects were color coded. As an aside, I went to Wal-Mart later and panic purchased every color folder I could find and sent her to school with no fewer than twelve. Do you know how hard it is to find a purple folder? Not just a purple folder, but a three-hole punched with pockets but no brads, plastic purple folder.

J: I’m just really having a big problem Mom.
Me: Okay…(assuming it’s folder related, again)
J: I can’t stop raising my eyebrows.
*pause*
J: Every time I think about my eyes I realize my eyebrows are halfway up my forehead again.
Me: Okay. Well. Just stop thinking about it and I bet you’ll stop.
J: It’s not stopping. I can’t stop. That’s what I said.

She really couldn’t stop.

But it’s good. Kids are supposed to grow up. It’s what we want. I guess I’ve just spent the last 9 years wishing they could be more independent and suddenly they are and I wish they needed me a little more. But, not all the time, only when I’m feeling nostalgic…is that too much to ask? Sometimes I still help them pour the milk into the cereal bowls and they all roll their eyes because they can do that themselves. Then they shoot each other looks like okay we’ll let the old lady have this one and pretend we needed her help. As an aside, did you know a child could use her whole body to roll her eyes? Mine can.

In fact the other day the littlest told Hubs, “today I closed the box to life.”

I mean I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine, it sounds real dark whatever it is. When he inquired further she told him, “it’s hard to explain.”

I’m sure it is but we’re going to need a little more from you on this one because we’re not sure which hotline we need to call.

She explained, “the box to the cereal? Today I finally was able to close it!”

*high five*

You know when you’re crossing a street and you reach out your hand for your kid to take, because that’s the rule, “hold hands when we cross the street.” You don’t even have to look, you just stick that hand out to the side, slightly behind you and feel a little one latch on. One day the older two don’t need to hold your hand anymore but you didn’t realize it because you’re still holding the hand of the youngest. And then one day you reach out your hand and the youngest doesn’t take it. She doesn’t need to. She’s up there, already crossing the road with the Bigs. You may not even mark the event, because after all, you are trying to cross a street. But suddenly that becomes the norm, and no matter how many times you keep reaching out your hand, you come up empty.

Car conversations used to be a one-way broadcast from the rear seats to the driver. But now they’re like a tennis match between the three of them – pinging thoughts back and forth and only occasionally am I looped in. It’s perfect and beautiful, they make each other laugh, they play the silly word games I never really wanted to play, did I?

That’s the stage we’re in, and that’s why I didn’t blog for most of the summer. Because if I wrote it all down, then I’d have to remember the passing of time. If I kept ignoring it, maybe it wouldn’t happen. But it did.

However, a lot has happened these last 8 weeks and I have lots of great training, triathlon, and kid stories to share! I’ve started training for a 50k trail race (that’s a story in itself) and I’ve had some very harrowing trail run experiences. Like the time I wandered onto the Water Authority land…fell into a nest of chiggers…and once I came upon a gaggle of youths looking for bears…