Saturday, October 30, 2010

Through A Mother's Eyes

She sits on my lap in the porch.
Even though the temps are frigid the sun pours in as if it might be 80 degrees.

She sits there, playing with the remote control.

The sun glows on her skin.

Her cheeks are pink and plump.  I wonder if I might sneak a taste.  Just one.

Her hair, smooth and shiny.

She wears a ridiculously large bow to hold back her chin-length bangs.

Her lashes curl just so and are a million miles long.

Her lips are perfectly pink and pouty.
I am in awe.

I rush for my camera hoping not to waste the moment.

She senses its presence and offers a smile.
 Then, suddenly, she pretends to be shy.
There are days I can't believe this beauty was born of me, born of my mother, born of my grandmother...

Will she ever see herself as beautiful as I do?

Will I ever think of myself as beautiful as my mother did when I sat on her lap, bathed in sunshine and perfectly ripe?

Did my mother ever think of herself as beautiful as my grandmother did?

How much better we would all be if we could see ourselves through our mother's eyes.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Pay It Forward Friday

On Tuesday night Brian and I were just getting ready to go to bed somewhere in the 10 o'clock hour when our doorbell rang.  The front of our house is full of windows so I knew the "ringer" could see us in our living room but I was afraid to look back.

Who rings a doorbell after 10 o'clock on a weeknight?

"You go get it!" I yelled, scared, at Brian.

Neither of us recognized the person or their idling car out front which only added to the scariness of it all.

Was this a Halloween prank?

Brian opened the front door a crack.

"Yessss?"  He inquired.

"Hey I just wanted to let you know your garage door is open.  Is yours the one just behind here."

"Ah, yeah."

"Yeah, I drove past a couple of times and noticed it was open.  Just thought I'd let you know.  With all this wind you probably don't want to keep it open all night."

"Right.  Thanks!"

We had wicked weather on Tuesday night.  No seriously, wicked.  Like, I thought we might meet the Wicked Witch of the West since we would obviously be visiting Oz as soon as the next 60 MPH gust picked up the house.

I don't know how many times I've been upset with Brian for leaving the garage door open.  It's been a lot.  He has this bad habit of pulling out the car and then driving off without closing the door leaving the contents of our garage for the taking.  A $500 stroller?  Couple of bikes?  A kickass snowblower?  A new lawnmower?  Free for you.  Apparently.  My anger is not out of line.

This summer he had a good run going.  He never forgot to close that garage door.  But then autumn arrived, the trees started to drop their leaves and I tried to warn him.

"You can't just press the button and drive off," I cautioned.  "You have to watch the door go all the way down. Sometimes the leaves get blown into the safety sensors and the door goes back up."

But he didn't listen.

That very morning I had to trudge out there in my skivvies to close it because he had left it open on his way to work. I let it slide because he did me a favor and dropped William off at school.

Then he got home from work, pressed the button and hustled into the house not waiting to see if the door closed all the way as his smarty smart wifey had suggested.

So thank you, kind stranger for saving our garage from what could have been.

Your turn!

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Where the Heart Is

I wrote this Monday morning but surprise, surprise I had a few things to catch up on and didn't get around to proofing and publishing until just now.

I arrived in the middle of the night.

I dropped my bags in the hallway and collapsed on the bed.

I laid my head on Brian's chest.

He was deep in sleep but I knew he knew I was there when he let out a sigh of comfort.

I picked up my tired body and tiptoed into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

On my way back to the bedroom I made a pit stop in William's room.

I buried my nose into the side of his cheek and breathed him in.

I whispered into his ear, "Mommy's home."

His eyes flickered once, twice.

Then he threw one elbowed arm around my neck and pulled me in.  Tight.

"Mooooommy..."  He sighed with content.

I kissed him and told him he could go back to sleep.

"Don't worry," I said, "I'm home for good now."

I crawled into bed, under the covers.

Have my sheets always been this soft?

I searched for the warmth of my husband.

The door creaked.

I heard sobbing.

"Mommy I did miss you.  I did want you to come home."

I lift the blankets and let him in.

Brian explains, "He told me he didn't want you to come home."

Trying to be brave.  I'm sure.

My little boy who is still so little.

I hold him closer so he knows.  I'll still be here in the morning.

Then I carry him back to bed.

In the morning I heard her chatting away.

Could she talk this well before I left?

I open her door a crack and offer her my eyeball.

She laughs.

I close the door.


I spring the door wide open.

She throws her bed head back and gives off a full belly giggle.

Does she remember that I was gone?  Or has she already forgotten?

I pick her up and she wraps both arms around my neck and melts into me.

The strongest claw couldn't pry her away.

She remembers.

Together we go downstairs where I start preparing everyone's oatmeal.

I kiss Brian goodbye and he leaves the house sans kids for the first time in five days.

I add the brown sugar, cinnamon, berries.

We gather around the table.

"So what do you want to do today, Mommy?"

"Whatever you want!"

And I mean it.

And I know.

This is where I belong.  It's where I've always belonged.

Sunday, October 24, 2010


  • You say "Pea-Daddy" [Please, Daddy] for everything.  Even if Daddy isn't around and even if the person with whom you are speaking is definitely not Daddy.
  • You say "He-go" for "Here you go" and "Thank you."
  • When you are finished eating dinner you scream "kee-kees" [cookies] at the top of your lungs and then you subsequently answer your own question by raising your hand and saying, "I DO!"
  • You fold your hands when we pray and you always say "AIM!" [Amen] at the end of each prayer.
  • You love to sing and dance with all the music at church.
  • But you don't like going to church all that much.
  • You are fearless on your own terms.  But you get paralyzingly scared if we put you on a high surface.
  • Loud roars and big, noisy action figure toys scare the living daylights out of you.
  • On most nights you sleep 13 hours.  But you still wake in the middle of the night at least once a week.
  • You love to sleep with your Jellycat bunny.  You also love your nukie and your blankie but you aren't as attached as your older brother once was.
  • You are just now starting to enjoy your big brother's company and love it when he uses funny voices, makes you chase him down the hallway or when he hides under his bed.
  • You call him "Ee-yum" or sometimes "Wa-yum."
  • Your favorite food is anything we put in front of you.  I can't think of one thing you won't eat.
  • Strangers comment on your long hair with natural highlights.  They also comment on your shyless way of saying "HI!" to anyone we see.
  • You let anyone hold you.  Except the lady at the gym.  So we haven't been to the gym together in a while.
  • When all other modes of communication fail, screaming works.  Louder the better.  You're going to have a lovely singing voice.
  • Sometimes hugs include small pats on the back.  That shows you really mean it.
  • You like sayings like "Uh oh, pump up the jam!" or anything in a weird voice.  Easiest way to get you to laugh on cue. 
  • Every day I put barrettes or pigtails in your hair.  Every day you take them out.
  • Hands down, your favorite person in the world in Daddy and you let the whole neighborhood know about it when his car pulls into the garage at the end of the workday.
  • But you still prefer mommy when you are hurt or sick or scared.
  • You don't really care for television except for Sesame Street.  Sesame Street is your drug.
  • You have an obsession with shoes and if you are crabby putting on your shoes is a sure thing to cheer you up.
  • Your favorite toys are your baby dolls, play kitchen, William's cars and dropping the juice lids into the tin can.  And phones.  Any phone.  All phones.
  • You never take off your sunglasses when I put them on you.  This amazes other people.
  • When I'm typing away at the computer you quietly walk over and nudge your head against my elbow so that I'll put my arm around you.
  • When we ask you how old you are, you hold up one finger and say matter-of-factly, "Tee." [Three]
  • When we ask you what your name is you say, "Soo-see."
  • When I say I love you, you look back and say, "Muh-WAH!" and blow me a giant kiss.
  • When you wake in the morning we fight over who gets to go get you first.
  • When you are waddling around the house or sitting in your highchair or dancing to the radio, we are stunned by your beauty and drunk with your cuteness.
  • When you came into our lives 18 months ago you filled a void we didn't know existed.
  • Happy half birthday, Little Lucy Girl!

Tuesday, October 19, 2010


Flying out on a jet plane tomorrow to wine country with four of my besties.  (Missing you, J9!)

Brian will be playing the part of Mr. Mom for five days.  Prayers are appreciated.

He may or may not guest post in between the making of the meals, the wiping of the bums, the changing of the laundry, the conference calls and probably a lot of watching of 80s movies on TV.

And me?  I'll be knee-deep in grape crushing, bottles of wine and a lot of girly chitter chatter.  When I'm not missing my family like crazy, that is.

Toodle loo!

Friday, October 15, 2010

My Friday, So Far

There's no Pay It Forward Friday today because this story needs to be told ASAP.  Consider it my little gift to you for making you feel better about your own life.  Because my life, in comparison, is a total circus.  Here's my proof.

William was up way too early this morning which meant he watched too much television which meant his behavior was less than desirable.  So I fed the kids lunch a half hour early and ushered them straight into naptime.

"Today you must sleep," I declared to William.

I make an attempt at nap for William everyday but 80% of the time he ends up reading books and asking if he can come out an hour later.  Today would be the 20% where he actually falls asleep.  Or so I told myself.

So the kids are in their rooms and I come downstairs to bask in the quiet and stillness of the house.  I decide a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies sounds perfect for this crisp, fall day.  I throw the sugar and butter in the KitchenAid and let it whirl.  Two eggs, some vanilla...


"William, get back into bed.  It's time for a rest."

"But, Mommy, I just need your help with something."

This is gonna be good.  What great distraction tactic will he come up with today?

"What do you need help with, William?"

"I need help getting something out of my ear."

"What?  What's in your ear?"

Now he's all the way downstairs and standing in front of me in the kitchen.

"Well, I was doing this magic trick.  I had this button in my hands like this."

He shows me two closed fists.

"And then it disappeared!  And then I tried to get it out of my ear but it couldn't come out."

"William, that's a magic trick.  Only a magician knows how to do that."

"But where's the button?"

"I don't know.  Did you drop it?  Is it in your bed?"

"No.  I told you, it's in my ear."

"Which ear?"

"This one."

He points to his right ear.  I look into his right ear.  I see nothing.

"William, there's nothing in your ear.  You must have dropped the button somewhere."

"No, Mommy.  It's stuck in my ear.  I told you."

This time I stick my pinky finger, the finger containing my extra long manicured nail, way into his ear.  Way further back than nature ever intended, my nail hits something hard.


I gasp.


"Mommy, I'm so sorry, I'm SO SORRY!"


He starts digging in his ear.

"DON'T DO THAT!" I shout, "You'll push it in even further!"

I run upstairs and grab my tweezers.  I pull his earlobe out as far as I can and still see nothing.

"Oh, William, oh, William.  This is baaaaaad!"

Blindly, I slowly insert my tweezers into his ear.  I feel the tip of the tweezers hit the button.  I quickly squeeze and pull out.  Nothing.  And now I fear I've pushed the thing in further.

Oh my God we are that family!  We are the family with the kid that sticks the marble up his nose and has to go into the ER to have it surgically removed.  I make fun of those people.  What kid has parents stupid enough to not be paying attention when they stick a fricken marble up their nose?  Except it's his ear.  Which is way worse because what if it goes all the way in and starts floating around in his brain?  And, oh my God, there was this lady last night on Private Practice that had this pressure on her brain and she had chronic, excruciating pain.  He's going to have chronic, excruciating pain!  And another one of my kids is going to need fricken full-on skull surgery!

Yes, it's true.  I panicked.  I paced the house, wringing my hands, not even caring that my 3-year-old son was watching his mom in a complete panic.

Good! He should see me panicking!  This is a time to panic!  It serves him right!

Not really knowing what my next steps should be, I call Brian.  He doesn't answer.  I know that he's at a client lunch so I text him: You need to call me back asap.  We have an emergency.

I made sure not to include any exclamation points.  Exclamation points equal death.  And we weren't talking death.  At least not yet.

He called me back less than a minute later at which point I made a mental note to later thank him for realizing that this indeed warranted an immediate callback and was not like the rest of the times he ignores me when I've asked him to call me back asap because the immediate concern was that we were out of milk and I need him to pick some up for me.

"Ohmygod, Brian, William stuck a button in his ear and I can't get it out!  It's WAY in there!  I can't even see it! WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!"

"Whoa! Calm down.  Is he crying?"


"Is he in pain?"

"I don't think so."

"OK, then.  Let's not panic.  I'll call the triage nurse since you obviously are in no state to speak with anyone coherently.  Can you text me the number?"


We hang up the phone.  I text him the nurse's number.

Then I start playing the whole doctor's office scenario out on my head.  We'd bring him in.  They'd laugh at us.  William would be way more scared in there than he is at home.  They'll probably end up using a tweezers just like mine to get it out.  And then I'll look stupid for not being able to get it out on my own.  And we'll be slapped with an outrageous office visit bill.

I grab a flashlight and leave the tweezers alone for a moment.

"William, come here."

I lean his head all the way to the side and pull his ear lobe out as far as I can.  I shine my flashlight into his ear just so and I can finally see the tiny pink button that came as an extra with one of my sweaters I purchased long ago.

I see the button is facing sideways so that if I could just get my tweezers that far in, it would be very easy to grab hold of the edge and pull the button out.  The problem is that if I put down the flashlight, the button disappears from sight.  If I keep the flashlight but let go of his lobe, the button again disappears from sight.  I need to a third hand to maneuver the tweezers.  Then I have an idea!

I usher William downstairs to Brian's music room.  I turn on his piano light, the one with the bendy arm, and fixate it so that it's shining directly into his ear.


"OK, Mommy."

I pull his lobe out and insert my tweezers.  I pinch the tweezers together and when I'm sure I've got hold of the button, I squeeze the tweezers with all my might and pull out.  The button slid out effortlessly.

The offending button, the triumphant tweezers and a dime for comparison.

I immediately had mixed emotions. I kind of wanted to nominate myself for mother of the year. But I also I kind of wanted to slap William. But I also I kind of wanted to give him a giant hug.

"Wow!  Good job, Mommy!"

"William.  This was very serious!  You don't ever, ever, EVER stick things in your ears or up your nose, or, or...anywhere.  Do you understand?  It's very dangerous and the doctors might have to cut you open to get it out."

"OK, Mommy.  I won't do it again.  I promise."

At that moment the triage nurse called to give me instructions on how to get it out.

"No worries, I already got it out."

"OK, and have you used this as a teaching opportunity?"

Sigh.  We are soooooooo that family.

"Yes, thank you for calling.  Goodbye."

And that, my friends, has been my Friday.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Like the Spaghetti Part in Lady & The Tramp

This picture is almost a month old now but for whatever reason I forgot to post it here.  Brian was out of town for a long weekend and I thought up fun things for me and the kids to do while he was gone.  I bought junky frozen food for dinner -- chicken nuggets, sweet potato fries, wontons and the like -- and then I promised we would walk to the local malt shop and William could pick out any flavor of malt he wanted.

He picked Chocolate and Banana.  I picked Chocolate and Coffee.

It was tricky keeping Lucy from tipping over the malt glasses while I fed her at an all-too-slow-in-her-opinion pace.  So I decided I would just let her do her own thing and deal with the mess in the bathtub later.  I let her stand on the booth next to William and stuck an extra straw in his malt.  It was a totally genius idea if I do say so myself.

I could have snapped 100 pictures of this same pose if I wanted.  Neither of them moved until the glass was sucked dry.

I sent the picture via text to Brian.  It wasn't until after he responded that I realized Lucy appears to be holding William's hand.

It's pictures like these that make my heart skip a beat at the thought of being away from them when I'm on vacation next week.

Monday, October 11, 2010


I hear some sort of verbal scuffle going on in the kitchen between William and Brian.

William comes running to me on the porch.

"Mommy, you have to tell Daddy that my washcloth is the blue one, not the green one."

"But William, your washcloth is the green one."

"What?!  Oooooohhhh..." [Whiny sigh.]

He runs back into the kitchen and I hear him say, "I'm sorry, Daddy.  You were right.  I was wrong."

Wow, I think, already he's a bigger person than me.

Not only that but if keeps up those kinds of phrases, he's going to make some woman a very happy wife someday.  Very happy, indeed.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Minnesota's Funny Like That

If you're from Minnesota you'll know what I mean when I say that our weather is never average. It seems that each night I watch the evening forecast the meteorologist is predicting temps that are ten degrees in either direction of the seasonal average. In Minnesota it's normal not to be normal.

We're all about extremes here. What other climate can boast temperatures ten or twenty degrees below zero and then six months later have triple digits? We have freeze warnings, frost warnings, air quality warnings, heat advisory warnings, flood warnings, windchill warnings, thunderstorm warnings, tornado warnings, winter storm warnings, sleet warnings, freezing rain warnings and blizzard warnings. What have I missed?

Pretty much the only thing you can expect to not have to deal with here is hurricanes.

But the truth of the matter is, all of us pretty much love the unexpected.

"Can you believe this weather?!" Is commonly heard from week to week.

We love when it's 60 degrees in January and we think it's funny when it snows in May. Rarely does a year go by without breaking at least one daily record. Today (and tomorrow!) looks like one of those days.

Almost exactly one year ago from today I took these pictures. Today there is nary a cloud in sight and it is in the mid 80s. Neither October day was "normal." But these days it seems nothing is normal, right?

Yesterday the kids refused to nap.  And instead of letting it irritate me, I loaded them both up in the car and headed to a park we haven't been to before.  When we got home it was still too nice to be inside so we played until it was time for dinner.

Here are the pictures I took this year. (Do not let the kids' attire fool you. They were seriously overdressed and smelled like it when we got home!)
Cheese fest.
That's better.  I wonder if William will ever let me borrow those blue eyes.  Just for a day?

Self-timer.  I have to tickle their bellies to get these smiles.

I'm not ashamed of bribing with cookies to get a halfway decent photo.

I went inside for a minute and when I came out she was lying perfectly still in the middle of the yard and stayed like that for ten whole minutes.

Checking for more cherry tomatoes that have turned red enough to eat.

I wonder what the middle of October 2011 will bring?

Pay It Forward Friday

I'm a little grumpy today because the Twins lost their second playoff game last night.  It was supposed to be this magical year of a winning team and a brand new stadium and gorgeous weather to go with it.  But instead those damn Yankees stuck it to us two nights in a row.

In my opinion it's no coincidence that Jeter rhymes with cheater.

We're not out of it yet but things are looking grim now that we're forced to win two in a row in their brand new stadium.

So I had to think a while before I could think of something kind to write about this week.  But then I remembered:  Potatoes!

My uncle Jim is a potato farmer.  Have I mentioned this before?  Well he is.  And he's also extremely generous with his crop.

This weekend, at my Grandma's 86th birthday party, he gave us an entire box full of potatoes.  We won't be buying potatoes for a long, long time.

On Monday night all we had for dinner was a baked potato bar complete with sour cream, butter, blue cheese and cheddar.  The kids devoured theirs and I was sorry I hadn't thought to make more.

As the season of spending too much money grows closer it looks like we'll be able to eat and buy Christmas presents.

P.S. If you're in the neighborhood stop by and I'll throw together a bag for you of the best spuds you've ever tasted!  I have plenty to share.

OK, your turn.  Tell me about kindness!

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

In Which William Declares His Mom A Lush

The thing that makes me the most nervous about William being in preschool isn't the curriculum, or the teachers, or if he'll make friends or even if he might have a potty accident.  What makes me the most nervous are the things he might tell his teacher when I'm not around.

William has no verbal filter.

When we get into a social setting he gets so excited (100% extrovert, this one) that he often blurts out whatever comes to mind.

"My Grandma lives in Alexandria!"

"We have a swing in our yard now!"

"Did you know it's apple season?"

These are perfectly appropriate statements even if they have nothing to do with the person we're speaking with or what we're speaking about.

But every once in a while he will say something that, without context, could be translated to mean many different things.

One time I was talking to our sweet next door neighbor.  A woman who is neither married nor has children and who might not understand the absurdities that come out of a 3-year-old's mouth.  All the sudden William felt the need to add his two cents to our conversation.

"Excuse me," He said politely.

"Yes, William?"

"Did you know that my penis hurts?"

Seriously.  That's what he said.

I quickly explained to our lovely neighbor that William was experiencing a slight bladder infection.  We thank her daily for giving us the benefit of the doubt and not calling Child Protective Services.

Yesterday was Red Day at preschool.  All the children wore red, they ate a red snack and they talked about all things red.  During one exercise the children were told to name everything they could think of that was the color red.  Fire trucks and apples and tomatoes and somebody's shirt and so forth.  This list was on a large sheet of paper and was taped outside the classroom for all the parents to read while we were waiting for class to be over.

About halfway through the list was an item that everyone was pointing to and laughing.  It read: A Mom's Drink.

A cosmo?  Red wine?  A bloody mary?  They were all trying to guess what this drunk of a mom might be drinking in front of her preschool-aged child.

You all see where this is going.

So class let's out and I'm shuffling by the rest of the parents and children.  William's teacher stops me.  With a giant smile on her face she informs me that William is the culprit of declaring a Mom's Drink his contribution to the "Things That Are Red" list.

I give her a nervous laugh and hightail it out of there.  But all the while I'm wondering what the heck William was referring to.

While it's true that I'm not so prude that I deny all alcoholic drinks while in the presence of my children, I honestly could not think of a time in the recent past where I had had a red cocktail and where I declared to William that it was a mom's drink.

Then the lightbulb went off and I remembered.  Last week after lunch I poured myself a beverage and William asked if he could have some.  I don't usually like either of my kids to consume this type of drink so I told him it was a drink only for moms.

The beverage?  A glass of Cran-Raspberry juice.  Virgin.

Come to think of it maybe I should have let William have a little.  It could help ward off those bladder infections.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Me on Babywearing

I've never been one to pay attention to product recalls.  Is that bad?  I mean, if it says this product will unexpectedly explode in your hands, then I might pay attention.  But for the most part I let crib and toy, even food, recalls go by unnoticed.  I figure I'm diligent enough in every day life that I'll know if something's up.  Whatever happened to common sense, people?  Nowadays everything has to be policed and come with some sort of outrageous warning.

This month Stephanie at Adventures in Babywearing is speaking out against the Consumer Product Safety Commission's warnings of all baby slings, pouches, ties, wraps and so forth.  If you're interested in what this is all about you can read more about it in Stephanie's call to action.

I, for one, was shocked by these warnings.  Not only did I find wearing my babies incredibly useful, I also found that it was incredibly affectionate.  I don't think I fully realized this until Lucy came along and I had to split my time between two children and couldn't afford to be without two hands all day long.  As soon as she snuggled into my Mei Tai she was completely content nestled next to my chest listening to my heartbeat.

What's more surprising is the number of positive outcomes that correlate with wearing your baby.  Everything from baby's breathing, heart rate and mental development are better while being held in a sling or carrier.  And for the mama it helps ward off depression and makes bonding with her baby that much easier and faster.

If you know a new mother, or even an existing one, help spread the word that, while following best practices, wearing your baby is safe and healthy!
Me and Lucy at 4-months-old

Friday, October 1, 2010

Pay It Forward Friday

I missed last week so I've got two this week.

1.  Some good friends of ours treated us out to a Twins game.  Not sure if you've heard but this team is RED HOT!  And they've got a gorgeous new stadium to go with it.  Add it up and that equals not cheap tickets.

As the summer went on and the team got better and the ticket prices got higher, Brian and I wrote off a baseball game this season.  "Next year," we both declared.

But the call came in and we went!  With crazy awesome seats to boot.  But even more delightful than that was getting to spend time with our friends.  When the conversation flows more than the beer, you know you've got good friends.  And that's hard to do with these two!  I heart them.

2.  Yesterday I watched my friend's five-month-old baby boy for a few hours when she was in a childcare pinch.  At the end of the day I told Brian if I could just clone that little boy I'd be all set to try for baby #3.  I don't think I heard him cry a single second he was under my care.  He threw out smiles for free.  And giggled that impossibly cute baby belly laugh.

When I took him with me to pick up William from preschool all the moms said, "You have three?"

"No!" I exclaimed.

But secretly I guess I wish I did.

Lucy was a little jealous.  But not so much that it was a problem.  She was more curious than anything.  She regressed from walking to crawling when he was around and demanded to be held at the exact same time.  I have two hips so this worked out just fine.

William grew up no less than seven years.  He insisted on giving the baby his bottle and helping to settle Lucy's screams by feeding her some yogurt while I changed a diaper.  He was the truest definition of a big brother than I've ever seen out of him.

"But why isn't Baby M coming over today?!" He asked this morning with a sad face.

"Would you like a baby brother?"  I asked, hypothetically.

"Yeah.  Maybe you should get one in your tummy again like Lucy only Lucy will be a boy and we can name him William."


Your turn!  What acts of kindness did you witness or were a part of this week?

Falling Leaves

I made a pile in the backyard so they could jump in it.

Brian reminded me I didn't need to do so much manual labor with the rake.  That's what our leaf blower was for.  I didn't care.  There's a lot more satisfaction in completing a task when it makes you sweat a little.

The trees in our yard are still 90% full of leaves so my efforts were futile anyway.  The yard was covered again this morning.

They say there hasn't been a colorful year such as this in a long, long time.  It's our gift for putting up with such a humid summer.

There's a maple tree on our property.  When we first looked at buying this house I was excited about this maple tree.  Now is the time of the year I'm reminded why.

We went to the far grocery store this morning because the road that takes us there winds through one of the largest parks in the Twin Cities.

It did not disappoint.

We saw trees like this.

But I forgot my camera.

Do you think those kinds of trees can glow in the dark?  I bet they can.

On the way home the wind had picked up a little and as we drove through streets like this the occasional leaf would flutter into our car through the sunroof.

William giggled and tried to catch them.  Then I would release them back outside through my window.

Lucy shouted: "LEEEEEEEEAPBF!"

It's a new-ish word for her and she let's everyone know about it as she points to the ground wherever she's walking.

The Twin Cities Marathon is this weekend.  They say it's one of the most beautiful urban marathons in the country.  And I can understand why.

How could you possibly concentrate on running when there's astounding reds and shocking yellows all around?

Well, I don't.  Concentrate on running, that is.  I watch.  I'm good at cheering.  And letting the kids crunch through the leaves with rosy cheeks and runny noses while I sip my hot latte.

It's true.  Summer is my favorite.  Hands down.  But there's just something to be said about fall now isn't there?
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