The thing about the lake...

The thing about the lake is that no matter how old or young you are, it brings out the kid in you. When I was a kid, I loved going to the lake to see my cousins and my aunts and uncles. I loved playing games like "Bloody Mary" and having campfires. We loved tubing and fishing off the dock. We spent our days playing Risk and walking to Ames to get candy for our famous candy bowls. It was a beautiful place to unwind even then, and although I love the look of the light dancing off the surface of the water, and the sounds of the Bell Tower in the distance, the most endearing aspect of the lake has always been the people you share the experience with and the endless possibilities for how to spend your days.

Age has not mellowed me. You won't find me jumping in the lake to take showers these days, or having mud and seaweed wars. You won't find me tubing or skiing for the most part and you definitely won't find me playing capture the flag. Its not that there isn't a part of me that would love to embrace those things, its just that I've well...changed.

Fortunately for my boys, the lake hasn't. It still holds all the childlike possibilities that it once did. It still allows you access to beautiful places, and explorations into nature. It still has that one element that makes it endure in my heart...family.

So this past weekend the fam and I packed up and headed to the lake cottage for probably the last time. Not because we aren't going anymore, but because the cottage that stands there will soon be no more. You see after nearly thirty years my parents have come full circle, they are going to build a dream lake house. A house big enough for future generations to gather and explore, a house on a lake, made into a home by the memories it is sure to bring with it. In the past 8 years the 1,200 sq ft cottage gave so much; A beautiful view, engagements and parties, first steps, campfires, Margarita Mays, Nerf wars, boating expeditions and stall outs(Nick), bat invasions, fireworks, Texas hold' em games and Bandu. We have had up to 14 people and 5 dogs sleep inside its walls and although I despise the shower...I will miss our little bungalow in my own way.

So this weekend, I sat back and enjoyed the day while my sons soaked up some sun, and most importantly...family.

Zach(and Lennie too) was so happy to see his "Uncle Nick" and asked "Will you play with me?" Never hoping to disappoint Uncle Nick jumped into a game of rock building that Papa had enhanced. Grandma also joined in, because when her grand kids are playing, she is never far away:

Grandma also hooked Matt up with an awesome swing ride, and Dad eventually jumped in on the fun:

You see at the lake, people take you to dinner, where you get to marvel at the fish tanks:

Play on a playground set under hundred year old trees:

Master the slide:

Have a blast on the swings with your Uncle and Grandma beside you:

Take in the canal with Uncle Nick, who according to Z is the "tallest" ( he is):

Teeter Toter with your Dad:
And finish the evening with an ice cream cone with Papa:
I am pretty sure that Zach sees the lake at 2 1/2 very much like the brown haired waif of a girl I once was did(and still do)...as a place of magic and love.

Time...

Time is really frustrating. If you have too much of it on your hands things seem dull and listless, if you have too little of it, you feel overwhelmed. Time is happening, even as I type this, and inevitably time sucker punches you.

Take for example the fact that my 32nd birthday is weeks away. 32 years...not a lot by some standards, and yet really "old" to others. How did I get to be 32? I ask my Mom, she doesn't know, I ask my Dad, he isn't sure either. My sister, my brother, my husband, all of them aren't sure where the time has gone. True, they are all older than me so they might be getting senile...just kidding, but seriously, in the scheme of my life....I'm closer to the half way mark than the beginning, and well that is a little scary.

Time is sucking things up left and right. I have plans for the summer, but before I've accomplished half of them, fall is settling in. I have so much I want to do with the boys in the morning, but by bedtime I realized we never did get to read that book, play with play-doh or go for a walk. I plan on organizing my closet, reading a book, or planning a date night, but the month just came and went. In all that time, I look back and I wonder why does it move so darn quick when you want it to slow down and so slow when you want it to speed up?

You know those times too, the times when you feel really sad or embarrassed, when you recite that "all things heal in time". I am not sure I believe that, I remember moments from decades ago that still sting when recollected. I am sure that many of the days I am living now are flying past and that they will be days I want to savor in the future. Moments of watching my sons interact together with cooes and hugs and sentences that make me giggle with the sweet simplicity and innocence of them. I am sure I will want to remember Wayne's excitement at getting his riding lawnmower, and his humorous obsession with the landscaping. I am sure I will want to remember my hair, brown through and through before gray creeps in, and my wrinkles get deeper.

I am sure that time, is moving, even as I write this.

Time brings with it so many discoveries, and takes with it so many fragments. I have decided that I love time, just as much as I hate it. I am pretty sure that time doesn't care, because in the scheme of it, I am but a breath.

So what kind of breath to be. A gasping, feel like your drowning one, an automatic one acting on autopilot, or a deep, savor the moment for as long as you can, breath. I think we walk the line...and like I said, time gives you a sucker punch, and knocks the breath out of you.

So I am choosing, at this moment in time, that I am going to be one to savor, for as long as I can, until that is of course, that time makes me forget that I made this decision. Damn you time!

What I did on the first day of school...

For almost a decade I have been a teacher, and even though some might consider that a veteran teacher, on the first day of school I am still as nervous as that freshman walking in the door. Sure I know where my classroom is, have prepared my lesson plans for the day, but bell after bell I will be meeting my students, the faces that will surround my days for the next ten months, some of them will enter my door hundreds of times before they leave the high school. Some of those faces will challenge me and my patience, others will open my hearts and my mind, and all of them in some way will teach me either about who they are, the world, or myself. Teaching is never boring, but that first day is and always will be one that is exciting and anxiety ridden. As my cooperating teacher once said, "If you're not nervous about something, it means you don't really care about it." Trust me, ten years in, I still care.

Each year I pick out my first day of school outfit, try to get a restless night's sleep and head off in the early morning to make sure I am on time for our 7:20 start. I rush to my room, do a last minute tidy-up and check and double check that I have all of the papers/supplies I need in order for the day. I head to the English office to chit chat with my colleagues about their jitters, and compliment their well planned outfits, and then I shuffle through the halls, looking around at the hundreds of faces and wondering, is that kid in my class? Sometimes you're praying their not, as they push their friends or say something nasty to a passerby, other times you see them laughing at a friend's joke or helping someone find a room, I think it goes without saying, which you hope you see sitting in your classroom. That first day, hundreds of first impressions, on both sides of the desk.

So yesterday, when I woke up at 7 am and realized that I wasn't going to the first day of school, I felt a myriad of emotions. Mostly I was grateful and relieved. Grateful that I had the opportunity to continue working with the two most important students I've ever had. Grateful that I have a husband who supported me in staying out of work for a bit longer, even after we built a beautiful but expensive new home. Grateful that I was exactly where I wanted and needed to be for my spirit, and relieved that these two boys, weren't the ones walking into a "school" meeting their teacher for the first time. Relieved that I was the one on the other side of the crib for the time being instead of the one on the other side of the desk.

I mean aren't these two the cutest pupils you could ever ask for?:

On the first day of school, these are exactly the faces I wanted to see looking back at me. For now, at least, my other students can wait!

Protective or Paranoid?

When we built a house that has two staircases that lead to the upstairs I knew that I was going to have to get some gates once Matt started crawling. What I didn't know was that I was going to have to get a third gate to keep my toddler from toppling down those same stairs.

A few nights ago, Zach was coming down the front stairs, he went to say something to me, and lost his balance. There I was at the bottom of the stairs watching him fall. It was like the whole moment went into slow mo. I screamed his name, watched as he fell sidewards, trying desperately to grab a hold of anything that would stop him from falling, and as I raced towards him, I just kept praying he would be ok. Fortunately, our stairs have a few landings, and when he reached the 1st one, he stopped. He looked terrified, his eyes were wide with fear, and as I reached him, I grabbed him, held him and kept repeatedly telling him he was ok. I'm not sure he believed me since he was crying and I was bawling as I rocked him, but my prayers had been answered he was alright. I was struck by how accidents happen, how you can do your best to protect your kids, and a moment can come along and pull that safety rug out from under you. I had been toying with the idea of gating Z's room for a few days, because he'd taken to getting out of his bed and playing with the door...up until that point, he'd never opened it. After that fall, I really started to wonder, did I need a gate at his door, and my answer came the very next day.

At nap time I could hear him up and moving about in his room. I told him to get into bed and to stay in his room. Instead he opened the door and came to find me. I gently placed him back in bed, reminded him it was nap time and that he could get hurt walking around upstairs, especially at night, I even reminded him of his fall. I left his room, and ten minutes later was talking to my husband about how I thought we were probably going to need to put a gate up, only to look up and see Zach smiling at me, at the top of the stairs. With my nerves shot from possibile future injuries Wayne and I took Zach upstairs, Wayne set up the gate, and I settled Z into bed. Oh how that boy cried to see that gate go up, but I can tell you that last night I slept peacefully knowing that Zach was safely in his room (which is kid proofed) and Matt was safely in his crib.

So readers, am I protective or paranoid, or a bit of both?

Where have I been?...

Well, mostly I have been here.

It seems like the last few weeks around our house have been crazy. We got a driveway...finally, and then we got landscaping, and then we even started to grow some grass. Its strange how much you take that little green stuff for granted when you have kids!

Things have also been busy as far as events and activities. We went to the county fair, where Matt chilled in his stroller while Jack got to ride Marshmellow, and Zach rode on Cocoa:

And my 2nd goddaughter was born, Avery Grace(I have been asked to be the godmother to my adorable neice Emma as well) to my BF Jenn and her husband Dan, just look at this cute new family of three:

Isn't she just gorgeous with all of her brown hair, and such a peanut at 6 lbs 2 ozs?

We've been to dinners, and block parties and even had some guests to our house. Things have been busy, busy. Now that we are settled in again, I am hoping to get settled into my more routine blogging ways. Until next time...

Just in the knick of time...

This guy got potty-trained....

Because this guy is now mobile...

Not only does Matt stand while holding onto objects, he crawls, he sits from a crawl, he pulls himself up and he is eating everything he can get his hands on...I mean that literally! He has no interest in being feed anymore and gets angry if you don't give him the spoon...Mr. Independent!

There have been so many changes around here and each one is better than the next. I couldn't be prouder of my sons...and I can't wait to take Z to the fair today so he can ride "Cocoa" the pony for learning to be a big boy!

Z what are you doing?...

I have two sons. If you've ever read this blog before, you know that. What you might not know about my boys is what they do for a living. At 2 1/2 and 8 months old, they've gone into business for themselves. One is the brain of the operation and I guess the other is well...the brawn. The other day I saw Zach riding on the back of his brother's walker. The scene looked a lot like this:

(Amazingly my little Hercules of a son, Matt was easily able to pull both his weight and his brother's) I had to ask, "Zach what are you doing?"

His reply..."We're garbage men!"

Sure enough upon closer examination, Zach was collecting "garbage" and putting it behind Matt's seat. Matt didn't seem to mind driving the garbage truck, as long as he got to nibble on some of the loot!

I know it isn't every mother dream job for their sons....but I do have to say, I think I have two of the cutest garbage men around!