Friday, May 20, 2011

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. ~Anatole France

Right now, as I am sitting here typing this, my husband is making himself a super sugary creamy coffee and PB&J for the road.  The brunch of vegetarian champions.

He is hitting the open road, kicking off the first leg of our adventure.  He will pee in a cup today and Monday, he will begin again, a new chapter in his life.  He is so excited, so sure.

In the moments I get cold feet...I just look at him and take in his calm, his peace.  He rarely makes a wrong decision, he is too thorough in his research, too committed to patient contemplation of the facts, the possibilities. He is ready, so I am too.

Liam is going to miss his Daddy.

and their morning rituals.



And Daddy is going to him his Lumowitz. He will be the first to remind me that it's temporary, only a few weeks and that he will be home most weekends. But...he also went out and upgraded our phones so they can send video. And I found a new web cam on my kitchen counter. And just now he told me that he was going to send me a tracking thing for my phone so I know where he is all day.

...it's only a few weeks...

I am playing hookie today. I used a PTO day, but it's more fun for me if I think of it as skipping work. There are very few safe ways to rebel as an adult, but who really shakes the desire to do just that? Rebel against the monotony of adult life...it's a must. I will NOT check my work email again today. CRazY!!! (notice the again....of course I checked it right away this morning ~sigh~)

Bubbles


Smiles


Brandon just left. And I'm still okay. Maybe it is only a few weeks. Maybe it will be nice to be able to sing Summer Breeze 20 times in a row if I want. It WILL be nice:)

This time of year, there is a soundtrack that gets stuck in my head. Every year, and it doesn't change much. It's soft rock of the 70's. It's Sister Golden Hair and Summer Breeze and You Stoned Me. It is my mom's music and it is THE soundtrack to the first half of my life. Poolside, laying on hot cement eating Freezies...the smell of coconut on baking skin. Not until I blast Summer Breeze does the spring/summer truly start. Very few songs make this list, I've added a couple along the way. But the originals still rule supreme.

Take that school! 

Autumn is 14, which means lots of firsts. Her first school sports adventure is softball. She is built like a brick house, but runs like a girl. Limp wrists and flailing arms, like she may break. It makes me crazy. But she hits the ball like she is trying to kill it, so there is hope. When she looks over at me to make sure I'm watching I mouth "ATHLETIC POSITION." The verdict is out on what kind of a sports mom I will be.

She also has her first semi formal tonight!! Dress shopping was exhausting with cries of "I can't zip it up!" over and over again. That poor girl has been blessed in an area no 14 year old girl wants to be blessed. I finally told her that maybe I will just learn how to sew dresses for her. Poor chica. God bless Barrett and Teresa for coming along for support.
PEACE!  was my promise that we would get through the dress shopping. 
She and her friends have asked me to photograph them tonight! I'm sooooo lucky I have even the smallest amount of skill with the camera. It gets me into all the 14 year old stuff:) I've found a way to infiltrate their secret society. Winning.

The yard is done and waiting for a lucky renter to come sit a while and enjoy it's peace.


We all love working in the yard so much. The girls pick and arrange their own flower pots like they are art projects. Well, I suppose they are, why do anything if not to make it beautiful?






So we have this super busy weekend and then it's packing. Oh and one ridiculously fun trip, but more on that later.
I am sure I won't be able to resist another post this weekend, what with the semi formal and all.  Be on the lookout for a teary eyed post from an unusually sentimental momma.  Until then:

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