Keeping

I popped out the front door and jumped back in just as quickly so as to grab the ol' camera this evening.  Nothing momentous was happening, just the usual watering of the lawn.  

WM trying to keep up with the sun and heat, thoroughly soaking the sod morning and night.  Channing trying to keep up with daddy.  

It is in these mundane moments, yes, these everyday and very ordinary ones, that I find this overwhelming and  urgent need to memorize every little detail.  Mental images only last so long.  

These, of Channing watering the new plants, will be saved for posterity.  

We interrupt this oppressive heat and humidity

Tuesday was the idyllic sort of day that makes you remember that you actually do like summer.  The temperature was in the mid-eighties.  The humidity was less than 50%.  When the air moved, it rustled the leaves just enough for them to peacefully sigh, and the grass invited you to lay down, stay awhile and watch a stray cloud or two float by.  It was bliss. 

We gathered in pairs, Kris, Jan, Walt, Kathy, Jeff, Melissa, Michael & I, at the Afton City Docks promptly at 5:15 for a much-anticipated trip both up river and down aboard the Hubbard family’s pleasure yacht.  Aunt Kris treated us all to a taste of how the other half live after bidding on and winning the outing at the Celebration of Courage last fall.  Pleasure is the key word here.  We were wined and dined as the shoreline glided by, enjoying appetizers and drinks on the bow of the boat before being gently nudged indoors by our gracious hostess for an outstanding meal. 

Tina and Matt served beef tenderloin with a mushroom and red wine reduction, steamed asparagus, roasted white and blue potatoes, Caesar salad, French bread and key lime pie, while Frank kept a watchful eye on river traffic.  Each bite of our meal melted in your mouth, causing your taste buds to sing a loud and resounding, ‘laaaaaaaaaa.’ 

Truthfully, the whole experience did.  That single beautiful note resonating through your whole body making your spirits soar, a fitting experience aboard a boat named Summer Song.

Happy Birthday Bitty Girl

Oh bitty girl...I can still feel her and smell her as if I set her tiny body down but for a minute, just long enough to help Channing put on a shoe or to stir a hot pot of deliciousness on the stove in anticipation of WM's arrival home after a long day at the office.  Today is her birthday.  Her first birthday.  Her first birthday since she both came into and left this world.  

I cannot begin to explain the wealth of emotion that comes from trying to get one's head and one's heart around this day.  The way my mood swings is manic.  I can picture in my head our new house filled with family and kindred spirits and little people all around.  The joy in the air is electric.  There is a banner strung along the upper level railing exclaiming, Happy Birthday Sophie.  There are strawberries everywhere.  And dots.  Lots of polka dots.  I'm in a party frock as is she.  WM is always within arms reach, beaming with pride.  WC is underfoot as usual.  And we're happy.  Gloriously happy.   


In reality, the day came upon us slowly.  First WM and I alone in bed, holding each other, remembering where we were one year ago at that exact moment and sharing our tears.  Then Channing woke and we were forced into action.  Action it was. Non-stop.  We tumbled into projects like water propelled down the falls, any excuse to hide our sadness, quick to turn away when the tears, barely under the surface, spilled over.  

One of numerous projects completed today.  Thanks Kel for the advice on how to hang these.
Your technique worked perfectly.

A few of us gathered in the evening for dinner.  We appreciated the company of those who dined at our table.  There should have been more.  I wasn't brave enough to extend the invitation, not wanting to disappoint if the emotion of the day got to be too much and plans suddenly had to be canceled.  


For dinner, WM made his infamous buffalo chicken on the grill.  It is simply amazing.  He has his grilling technique down to a very fine art.  Very fine indeed.  We had agreed upon a fancy dessert in honor of the Peanuttiest Little Girl.  It must be delicate and beautiful and delicious.  We melded together an idea for a layered chocolate meringue we'd seen on the Cooking Channel with Ina Garten's Berries Pavlova, a long-time favorite.  The end result was everything we hoped it would be, down to the very last bite.  

This will undoubtedly be tradition.  

With dishes washed, we drifted from the dining room to the front porch.  WM, Channing & cousin Tristan intent on making a bubble the size of a bus thanks to a kit brought by Grandma Kath.  There we stayed until a little boy's bedtime chased us indoors and chased our guests away.  


Tucking Channing into bed, we followed his bedtime ritual which includes singing Happy Birthday to the person of his choosing.  Tonight, we sang to WM and then to Sophie.  As Sophie's birthday song ended, he told me, 'Me make a really, really giant bubble a Sophie.  It went up, up, up to Heaven.  Sophie a [laughter].  Me make her too happy.'  Yes, little buddy.  You do.

Daily Dose

Around here, it isn't just about making we get enough calcium or vitamin C.  Nope.  At the Flynn's, a day just wouldn't be a day without a daily dose of bull dozers, excavators, bobcat's and the like.  The dull roar starts promptly at 7.  By 7:17, Channing is out of bed, running from room to room, peering out each window and straining to get the best possible view.  If our construction supervisor happens to be at our end of the neighborhood, the excitement doubles.  'Look Mom!  There's my Chad!!'  

Yesterday, we took it outside and went a little nuts.  Once the sprinklers were appropriately positioned on the new sod, we settled on the front porch to watch the show.  They're grading the yards of our three closest neighbors all at once.  It makes for non-stop action by every piece of large equipment they've got.  

Channing loves it.  Absolutely loves it.  Loves it even better when watching in his pajamas and eating popsicles for breakfast.  

Following through

Today, I followed through on a promise I made to myself well before Channing and Sophie came to be.  I vowed to be the mom that says 'do' more than she says 'don't'.  It's OK to be silly.  It's OK to get dirty.  Messes are just messes and can be cleaned up.  Unconventional means can have the most rewarding ends.


Take for example, our make shift ball pit.  Aunt Kris purchased a bag-o-balls for activities at the Carlton Family reunion that took place at the cabin last summer.  Months later, Channing discovered this treasure trove in the main floor bedroom closet.  Before the first syllable of 'me want...' was out of his mouth, the bag was unzipped and the balls were dumped into the bath tub.  We spent the better part of an hour, laughing until our sides ached.  Even little, bitty Sophie got in on the action.  (Sorry for the poor quality of the cell phone pictures.)

There was the time we allowed Channing to stand on the dining room table while making his first batch of chocolate chip cookies.  WM & I supervised.  Flour bloomed in the air like clouds. Chocolate was melted in hot little hands.  More dough was eaten than was made into cookies.  Our cheeks ached from laughter rather than from the taste of sweet, sweet sugar.  

Today was no exception to the do rather than don't rule.  Do jump in the puddles.  Do get stuck in the mud.  Do throw rocks at the dirt pile.  Do shoot your mommy with the bubble gun.  Enjoy every second of it.  I am.   

I am drinking up these moments, filling my cup over and over again until it overflows with love and with laughter. 

To Market

The beauty of moving closer to town is that on the weekend, we're mere blocks away from the Savage farmer's market.  I say that as if we lived WAY out in the country or something and now are urbanites.  That is certainly not the case.  However, the pull of a morning at the market is stronger than it once was due to convenience.  

After a quick bite to eat at the Savage Depot, we perused the single row of stalls.  They hold mostly the same produce-onions, zucchini, carrots, lettuce, beans, potatoes and garlic with an occasional herb or raspberry thrown in for good measure.  

Channing quickly fell for the Potato Lady's stand.  She actually didn't sell any potatoes.  Someone had dropped one in the vicinity of her stand, one lonely little potato.  Of course, it caught Channing's eye.  He made sure that after downing his bacon, egg and cheese sandwich, we went back to THAT stand.  

He picked his own bunch of carrots and selected a bouquet of flowers for me while WM chose a paper basket of green beans and stopped at the Great Harvest Bread stand for a pepperoni roll.  The trip was short and sweet.  With the exception of a watermelon, we got what we were looking for before making a hasty retreat into the air conditioned comfort of home.