21 September 2012

For My Young Man

Dear Tommy,

I'm looking at a recently-framed pirate picture you drew for me, and thinking about the life you are carving out for yourself in second grade.  I was surprised the other day when your teacher emailed out a photo of you and your classmates holding up signs of your hoped-for professions.  You want to be an artist!  Your talent really is blossoming.

You are growing up, Tommy.  I look at you now, strong and athletic, smelling of boy sweat after a quick game of kickball in the neighborhood, and I realize you have talent and strength and wisdom these days.  You consciously go for the comedic punch line.  ("Mom....Frank's crying!!  You've got the do the 'bop-around'....whatever that is.")  You dance like crazy.  You are sensitive, wanting to please me and yet putting up a huge wall of defense when something difficult crops up between us.


Don't be afraid of me, Tommy.  I am on your side.  I know you are saving the many lunch-notes I've drawn for you in the secret compartment of your lunch box.  I know you love me and I love you back...every moment.

Even in the hard ones.




Love, Mom

A Moment for Jimmy

Dear Jimmy,

I'm having trouble sleeping this week.  Don't tell your Grandma, because even though the truth is that Frank is just waking me up and it's hard to fall back asleep sometimes, Grandma will worry.  Maybe when you are a Daddy yourself, you will understand that mothers just can't stop worrying about their kids.

I've spent a good bit of time worrying about my own lately!  You kids have given me a run for my money over the last few months.  We've been slowly adjusting to life as a family of six, and that has come with incredible joys and many bumps along the road.  You, as my four year old and my longest-running "baby" of the family, have shown your share of jealousy toward all this tumultuosness.  I still keep that little Frank close at hand when there is no one around to supervise you and him together; otherwise, you'll try to see what happens when you "gently" squish his cheeks or plug his nose.



I know this is normal brother and normal kid curiousity, but it never fails to shock a mother of a baby when a GIANT four year old shows even the slightest bit of un-gentlesness toward the infant.    Reminds me of when Tommy was a baby and his big cousin, Will, tried the same shenanigans.  I was horrified.

I got over it, though.

Back to you, Jimmy. 




You are an amazing, amazing kid.  When I have a minute to slow down (it doesn't often happen except when Frank wakes me up at 2am), I think about the mischievous grin on your face and how you will do anything to make others laugh.  I can not count the number of times during a single dinner that we ask you to sit down, please....sit down NOW...sit down ON YOUR BUTT....because you are so involved in standing and trying to claim your place as a conversationalist in the family.  Thank goodness we long-ago instituted the practice of reviewing "highs" of the day one by one at dinner, lest you may not get a word in edgewise between your father, Tom, Lucy, and me. 

And yet.  When you are out in the world, Jimmy, your heart is shining for others to notice.  You simply astound me, kid.  For about year, you've introduced yourself to new friends on playgrounds with a smile and an exuberance that even your loving preschool teacher had to admit was somewhat intimidating for other young children.  As your mom, I could see you yearned to make friends and you didn't yet realize that making friends meant giving them a little personal space...maybe a few inches, at least.  Over the course of that first year in preschool, Mrs. McDonald similarly called you out on behavior again...and again...and again, but she did secretly confide in me that you were a favorite of hers.  She could see the happiness and joy for life in your heart, Jim. 

Thank God someone else could see it, because I was starting to wonder whether you would ever settle down and show it in an appropriate way!

But you are settling down, little by little.  This year, we've started carpooling with your best friend on the block, Kade.  You and Kade are just a riot together, piping up from the backseat about Star Wars and girlfriends and baby brothers.   You are teaming up for little boy shenanigans and riding one-handed down the cul de sac already.  I still haven't forgotten how Kade challenged you to ride your bike a little faster on practically the first day you got rid of training wheels.  It's a dog-eat-dog world out there for 3 year olds on bikes these days.

I have to admit, Jimmy, that I have often wondered if you'd survive and flourish despite the crazy chaos in our house over your first few years.  I have loved you with all my might, but with Tom and Lucy and you so close in age, I didn't have the time to perfect your baby book like I wanted.  Does that matter in the long run?  Will you grow up and feel like you missed out on my love because of it?

I sure hope not.  I look into your smile every day, kid, and I see God's light in your eyes and through to your heart.  I pray that you will use your enthusiasm and gifts for big things. 


I love you more than you will realize for years to come.  I am so lucky to be the mom of such a spunky, spirited four year old. 

Love,
Mom

Final image of Jimmy taken amazingly by Paula Charchenko.

20 September 2012

Finally!

 
Since school has started, it's as if my postpartum baby fog has finally lifted and I'm feeling recharged, like the old Anne who has more energy than to just lay around nursing a goo-goo-ga-ga baby all day.  There is something totally blissful about being the sole nourishment and lifeline of a newborn.  But then, there is something blissful about reclaiming your vigor for life.

Last night, I reclaimed that vigor at one of my favorite annual activites, the St. Pat's Garage Sale.  Every year I go with my mom and sister to wait in line at their first-night preview.  $3 is a measly pin-drop to pay for what glory awaits inside!  Over the years, I have scored golden peep-toed designer shoes and many other amazing treasures.  The sale is in a community that donates TOP NOTCH stuff. I am not kidding around here, people.

Last night was no exception to the usual amazing treasure hunt.  Among my finds were 3 kids' lacrosse sticks, priced at $3 each, and a beautiful 1960s-era Drexel chest perfect for my husband's manly closet needs.  I also replaced Lucy's Columbia jacket (she lost the lining last year after wearing her brand-new one about twice) for $5.  The jacket looked like it had never been worn.

I outfitted my eldest son in this elegant boyswear.  He's pretty handsome, if I do say so myself.

 
 
 
 
 

17 September 2012

This Beautiful Family We're Given

How does the time continue to fly and fly?  This time of year, the crisp fall air and the scent of school supplies fill my heart with joy.  Oh yes they do.

I've done this before, so I know that my full heart is probably just a post-partum endorphin high.  But still, I relish a moment at 4am to sit and reflect upon all the God has given our family.  This weekend was one I'd like to remember.

A walk with my cousin Mary around Lake Harriet.  A trip to Hunt & Gather, my new favorite vintage store.  An extended overnight date with my husband and Frankie, and my three older kids in the care of loving Wisconsin Grandma and Grandpa.  They came back bubbling with joy and tales of a morning campire and freshly baked cookies for breakfast.

In a big and busy family, a date at a French restaurant and an indie film with no interruptions are something John and I relish.  Even a quiet morning with our baby is quite rare. 

And yet.  Somehow this family of ours is full of life and joy.  Somehow these kids, who are rambunctious and joyful and trouble-making and life-changing, are really not a burden but a joy.  They fill our house and they fill our hearts. 

Every time I think I am at my wits' end and have hit my limit, I am given a moment of inspiration to realize how much gratitude I must have for these children of mine, and this family John and I are humbled to call our own.

Quiet Morning With Frank