Bunk Bed High Jinks

We are all perched in the bedroom. One on the top bunk doodling in a notebook, another throwing her hands up while jumping up and down for her victory dance, a third one peeking over the dresser trying to find things she normally isn't allowed to touch, and me sitting against the wall with my legs stretching all the way to the bed, an unintentional divider splitting the space.

When the little one pulls at the bed, jutting out her chin and grunting her request, it becomes an invitation for the rest of us. As she flops her body back and forth on the mattress, snuggling under the covers and then bouncing up and down, we become like a moth to the flame, we must join the fun. The bed is beckoning us to climb aboard, and we do.

The four of us are squeezed onto the bed. The little one squeals and laughs, delighting in our participation. We wrestle each other into the pillows, giggling as we try to avoid knocking heads. The older two take turns driving what has now become the boat, and at some point we all start singing about the foot bone connecting to the ankle bone and all dem bones.

Eventually it is time to wind down, the little one has to go to bed soon and I realize that a quieter activity makes adjusting for bedtime a little easier. Our adventures on the bed are over, for tonight.

I am left with the sunny feeling of having this time with them. It was perhaps a small sliver of a moment, but I will hold it in my heart. Not all moments are so joyful and filled with ease when three children try to play together. But tonight, for that small moment, there was no arguing, no pouting, no tears. No yelling, or frustration, or anger. Just smiles and snuggles and being together.

And I hope that they remember it with warm hearts. I hope that they think back on times like this and remember how we all played together and laughed and lived so deeply in our connection to each other. I hope I remember it too. One of the memories I can pull out after a particularly frustrating day, and remember that the days aren't all bad. We have a lot of these good moments too. They are here, waiting to be remember, to be acknowledged, to be called upon at anytime.

This night time bed party just filled my tank to the brim. And I am so grateful to embracing the moment and climbing onto the bed with them. That the four of us crowded together with our feet in each other's faces and our arms wrapped around each other and our laughter echoing our hearts' content.

My heart is content.

xoxo, christine

I Hope You Know

Do you know how many days it's been since we last talked? I don't either, although I know I could figure it out if I really wanted to. But I don't really want to. I don't want to know how long it has been since I heard your voice, since we whispered secrets, since our laughter sang a duet.

I don't know why it is so difficult. Because it's not difficult at all. How hard is it to pick up the phone? I don't even have to dial your number. One finger tap and your name pops up, the phone ringing as I wait to connect.

I used to think that our conversations were so sporadic because we thought we needed to have hours available to catch up and reconnect. But we have agreed time and time again that even five minutes is better than nothing. That we both would rather have a few short moments at more frequent intervals than to go so long in between talking. And yet.

I hope that you know it's unintentional. I hope that you know that I am not avoiding you. That I don't purposely think about not calling you. That I don't sit around thinking about how I should call you and then don't.

I hope that you know you are still so very important to me. I hope that you know that I think about you every day and wonder what you are doing and how you are feeling.

I hope that you know that I don't take our relationship for granted. That I know the reason we are so close is because of you. I know that it's because of me too, but I hope that you know I see what you've put into our relationship. That I can not imagine having someone else where you are, or (even worse) not having someone there at all.

I hope that you know that I miss you like crazy and wish we lived closer.

I am lucky because I have never known my life without you in it. You have always been there, a constant person, another someone in my life who I know will hold me close, whether I'm laughing or crying. I hope you know I will do the same for you.

No matter how many minutes, hours, days, or weeks go by between seeing you or even hearing you, you will always be right here.

I wonder if when I saw you for the first time I knew. I wonder if I knew who you were and who we would become together. You will always be the first friend my heart grabbed ahold of. And it will never let go.

I love you.

xoxo, christine

Goodnight and What Should I Do?

They are sleeping, the three of them. One tucked between railings with her arms resting up by her head. The other two sprawled next to each other in the double bed, heads off of the pillows, hair tousled in their faces.

I here I sit, with the knowledge that they are warm and cozy and (most importantly) quiet, and I try to decide what I want to do. Should I watch TV? I don't have any must see TV that I watch anymore, but I'm sure I could find something to zone out to. Should I read? I definitely would, except I don't have a book right now. Note to self, get to the library. Should I practice my German? Thank goodness for Duolingo. Should I check Instagram? I need to pick a photo to post. Should I get on the computer? Do some Amazon browsing? Download and edit some photos? Check Facebook? Organize my emails? Watch a movie? Read a magazine? Journal? Sew?

It's like, as soon as I know that the girls are safely asleep I feel like there are about a million things I need to do. None of which, you will note, is folding laundry or doing dishes. (Even though those most assuredly need to be done.)

Mostly, I should make sure to get myself to bed at a decent time. Yet the earlier the kids fall asleep the harder it seems to be for me to go to bed myself. I know, deep down I know, that I need to go to bed and get some sleep. But there's something in me that fights it. I can't possibly go to sleep yet. This is the only kid-free time I have! I have to doallthethings before I go to bed. Even though I'm going to regret staying up until one in the morning when I have to get up tomorrow at seven because the toddler is awake and ready to play, I still stay up until an unnatural time because WHAT ELSE CAN I DO!? THE CHILDREN ARE ALL SLEEPING!! I MUST FIND THINGS TO DO BECAUSE I CAN DO THEM WITHOUT LITTLE ONES AROUND! AND QUICK LET'S DO SOMETHING ELSE EVEN THOUGH I'M EXHAUSTED AND SHOULD GO TO SLEEP, WHAT ELSE CAN I DO WITH ALL THIS TIME!?!?

And all-of-a-sudden I have whittled away my night on pointless internet wanderings and it's midnight and my coach has turned back into a pumpkin and I am going to regret it all in the morning.

And when I do regret it in the morning I tell myself that I will go to bed early that night. But do I go to bed early? Of course not. The vicious cycle just continues on. And on. And on.

To which I say, TONIGHT! TONIGHT it will end! (Even though I know that it won't because it's already after ten o'clock and I'm not nearly close to being done with my random internet searches.)

So goodnight! And off I go to Google something very important and urgent that can't possibly wait until tomorrow. (But of course you know that this is sarcasm because I waste my nights on the internet on things that really are not so important.)

xoxo, christine

Say, Cheese!

I am how many days into writing this month? Six? And already I feel like I'm puttering out, running on fumes, grasping at straws.

How many idioms can I give? Don't worry. I'll stop.

Anyway, it's day six and I'm already thinking, Maybe I'll just find a touching quote and add a cute photo of my kids...that counts, right?

Speaking of a photo of my children, in an effort to cram way too much into my life and add several balls at a time to my juggling act -- because who actually only adds one ball at a time? That would be...practical -- I am trying to get back into photography again. Which means I've subjected my kids to being in front of my big camera again.

Girls! Look this way!

Girls! Smile!

Girls! Girls! Don't worry about Nora. You just look at me and smile!

Noooora. Look at Mama!

Look at Mama!

What's this!?! Is that Mickey Mouse?

Noooora. Boo!

Girls! Keep looking at me!

Do you know how hard it is to get a photo of all three girls together? And smiling? And smiling together?

I have about 574836362 that I've taken and about zero that I'm one hundred percent happy with. Is this this normal for photography? Because let me tell you it is so discouraging. (I had forgotten how frustrating it is to take so many photos and be so disappointed with them. No wonder my motivation ebbs and flows when it comes to photography.)

Anyway, it's Friday. Hooray! And I managed to write without really writing but also without just posting a photo and calling it good. Double hooray!

But don't worry. I'll still include a cute photo.

xoxo, christine

Minty Mochas Already

I did it.

I had my first "holiday" coffee from my favorite coffee shop.

Snowflakes and mittens and holiday season decorations everywhere.

I don't even feel bad about it. It tasted that delicious.

It doesn't feel like November though, despite what the calendar says. And it certainly doesn't feel like the holiday season, even though every retail store is trying to convince us otherwise.. The weather is unseasonably warm (I am not complaining) and that by itself makes winter feel far far away. (Thank goodness.)

But I am hopping aboard the holiday shopping bandwagon. However, it's only because I want to take a cue from some others and get all the consumerism done by the end of November so that December can be spent focusing on memory-making, traditions, and that cozy family time. I don't want to shove Christmas down my kids throats at the beginning of November, but we might casually mention that Santa no longer takes requests after Thanksgiving.

I'm pretty sure I wrote about this last year. And I pretty much feel the same way this year.

I am not excited for the cold and snow (yet), but I am getting excited for the magical feeling of the holidays, that sparkly warm feeling that radiates out of people, the generosity that overflows, the traditions that are started and those that continue, and the sweet treats that show up only this time of year.

Don't worry though. I'm not forgetting about Thanksgiving. I could never forget Thanksgiving.

Here's to another holiday coffee tomorrow! And a little bit of the holiday spirit sneaking into your heart!

xoxo, christine

And the Thunder Rolls

In the far off distance, I hear a quiet roll of thunder. I can tell that it is gradually making it's way toward me, toward us. I can't tell what kind of storm it will be. If it is the loud window-rattling crashing that causes my senses to heighten because I fear the storm's damage. Or if it is the kind of storm with a few bright splashes of light and quiet rumbles that feels like a much-needed shower, washing away the dirt and old and bringing a reawakening the earth when it is over.

Is it the rain that pelts so hard it stings your skin? Or is the rain that falls gently in big drops - the kind of rain that makes you want to put on your rain boots and dance outside?

There have been signs of an impending storm for months. I have done everything from bury my head and pretend I can't hear it, to pasting on a fake smile and pretending I'm not nervous or worried, to falling apart and anticipating the worst.

Is it always like this with change?

I can hear it coming, but I'm not sure if it's something to fear or to dread. Probably a little of both, to be honest, but change can be scary and overwhelming and does not always bring out the best in me.

I have discovered, as I anticipate my day-to-day routine changes, that I have really enjoyed where I am and what has worked for our family thus far. I am not a an über-stay-at-home mom. It is not my forte, I am not good at juggling the laundry, cleaning, child-rearing, and everything in between. However, as change hovers on the horizon I can tell you with certainty that I am incredibly glad that this is where I've been able to be the past seven and half years. I can confidently say that I like being a stay-at-home mom, even on the days I want to run out of the house screaming as soon as my husband comes home.

Being home with my kids has been a great gift for me. And even though I haven't always felt this way, and it's taken me quite awhile to realize it, I am so thankful that this is what worked for our family.

Maybe that is why the thunder is the distance is giving me so much pause. I am afraid to lose some of what I am so grateful for. Except, I know that there are so many more good things coming with the rain. I'm just hoping it doesn't sting too much.

xoxo, christine

Warming Up Old Muscles

I have not been writing much lately. Not here, not in a journal, not anywhere. At first it felt foreign, stressful even, not taking the time to sit down and put down some words. But as the time went on, the feeling of writing and what that means for me slipped further away, until the wholeness that writing used to give me was nothing but a ghost of it's former self.

I could hardly remember the feeling of wanting it, of needing it. And the more time that passed without writing, the more I convinced myself that I guess I wasn't that interested in it. I guess it wasn't as big a part of me as I thought.

And I'm still unsure, even though sometimes I miss it.

I've always had a hard time sticking to something that doesn't have an obligation or expectation put on me by someone else.

In any case, a blogger I follow seems to have been experiencing something similar. And she put it all into words that spoke so much to me. At the end of October I decided to try to write every day during the month of November. And apparently, so has she:

I'm trying to blog everyday this November. Not because I really want to blog anymore, but because I want to write again. I want to exercise that muscle with words that have been sitting inside my head for many months. Writing is still a sweet release that unburdens my heart and gives me peace. I've been missing that. But I guess not missing it enough that I've taken the time to say hi here lately.

Anyway, it's a good post. I feel similarly to what she is saying. Blogging does not feel the same to me as it used to, although I do sometimes miss writing. Not blogging, just writing. Mostly I miss giving myself time to think and put those thoughts onto paper. I miss giving myself the time and permission to do something I enjoy.

So, here's to November. To stretching out my writing muscles. To deep breaths and open minds and letting out that sweet release.

And to more beautiful fall days full of the warmth of a full and happy heart.

xoxo, christine