I hope I don't look old.

I recently saw that someone...not anyone in particular, just a person...was turning 52. 52 years old. And, it made me think...how long until I turn 52? 16 years. Sheesh. The answer wasn't as big as I imagined it would be. As it should have been. Not for how old I am. Right? Because I know I'm not so great at math, I pulled out my calculator, even though I knew the answer couldn't be any different, but I had to be sure. Yet, there it was. Of all the times I wanted to be wrong (which is like, never), there I was: right as rain.

And, then, like rain the tears started pouring out of my face as the realization sunk in. How did I get so old?

16 years. Holy crap. Wasn't I just 16, like, 10 years ago? No way, Jose. That was, in fact, 20 years ago.

It's a strange moment when you realize that you're that age you remember your parents as when you were little. The same age you expect your parents still to be. That age when you joked with your parents about how old they were. When you picked on them for their grey hairs or receding hair lines. When the grandparents were still alive. When Christmas was for you, and Easter and Halloween, too. When you played with real kid toys and cousins. And, went to your first school dances. When you couldn't wait to grow up, and it seemed like life would go on forever and ever.

And, I thought about what I was doing 16 years ago. Moving away from South Carolina. From Charleston to a perfect 3-month Outward Bound adventure in Texas and Mexico and Minnesota and Ontario. To Utah. I turned 21 in the Painted Desert, in Bullfrog Marina on Lake Powell. I was making new lifelong friends and creating new experiences that would shape who I am. I was blazing a path for the direction my life would go...getting lost on plateaus, playing in hoodoos, exploring canyons, snowboarding, and hanging out in hotsprings...16 years ago.

16 years later...look where I find myself.  Here I am with a husband and living back in the Palmetto State. And, now, my kids are the ones playing with the real kid toys and their cousins. They're the ones building forts. Christmas is for them, and Easter and Halloween, too. They pick on our grey hairs (as did the lady at my hair salon the other day, who told me I was lucky to have the greys hold off for so long...was she calling me old?). They are getting ready for those first dances. They have all of their grandparents here to love and love and love and love them. They are living life like it will go on forever and ever.

16 years from now...I cannot imagine what that will look like. Certainly, I never really imagined my life right now the way that it is, which does not me that I do not love it, but I guess the beauty is in the surprise of it all. I hope that we're all happy and experiencing the world in the best ways that we can. I hope that life is good, as it is right now, as it was 16 years ago, 20 years ago, 30 years ago. And, I hope I don't look old.

Feels Like Home

Oh, lawdy. I don't even know where to begin. I don't even know where I've been. I thought I had my you-know-what together when I wrote that "Dusting off the Keyboard" blog, but apparently my you-know-what has been all over the place, and it's taken me some time to clean it up. And, though I'm not done, and I still have stuff in funny places, I'm working on it. I have no other choice, really. Even my kids have been asking me when I'm going to start working on this blog thang again. So, I'm going to try. Really. I think I would have done it sooner, but I didn't know how to do it. Like that painting you put to the side, promising yourself that you'll get back to it tomorrow, but you know that you just aren't up to the commitment...

I have been up to the other commitments, though. That baby is the most fun. The most. I guess I've been enjoying my time with her more than I have been worrying about other things that I should be doing. She's so happy. She's so good. She's the sweetest thing. And, she's growing soooo quickly. Knowing she's the last of them for me has made me not want to do ANYTHING ELSE except look at her and play with her and talk to her. She "talks" back, too...for the record, her first word was 'mama' some time ago, though she does say 'dada' because it's so easy to get out. She's started to pull up, and she's crawling all over the place. Which, inevitably leads to bruised foreheads and fits of crying and screaming after she smacks her head on the coffee table multiple times in a day. Sheesh, Evie Sue. Learn a damn lesson. Please, or people are going to start thinking we beat you. And, just last week these two little teeth burst through her bottom gums. How is all of this happening so fast? I keep begging time to slow down, but he refuses. Who knew Father Time could be such a bitch?

Ella and Summit have been leading busy little lives, too.

This third grade business is no joke. Ella has so much homework and tests and quizzes and multiplication tables and REAL-LIVE grades. I don't remember third grade being so serious when I was little. At least it didn't seem to be so. We have mean girls and MAP testing, and I can't decide which one is worse. I do know that there is a lot of pressure for kids in Ella's grade and a lot of pressure for parents, too. What happened to the fun in learning in elementary school, I'd like someone to rationally explain. Fortunately, my girl seems to enjoy school and has been on the all-A honor roll on both of the report cards that have come out this year! I'm super proud of her hard work!

 Kindergarten has been a perfect experience for little Summit. He's in an awesome class with a teacher who seems to absolutely love him. I was really anxious for him to start grade school, hoping that whoever was lucky enough to get him in his or her class would see how lucky they were, would see the sweet boy that he is. Thankfully, my wish came true: he's a happy little Busy Bee with a sweet-as-pie teacher.

As for our general existence, life's been good. I really cannot complain. We live in a cool spot where we spend a lot more time outside, TOGETHER, going for bike rides and runs and walks and building bonfires, fishing, shooting hoops, kicking the soccer ball around. Adjusting to life in a new house, getting settled, taking care of the family...these things have been the most important...and, maybe they've kept me from this blog, but I've been so invested in family life, in making this new place ours...it's nice to feel like we're home.

the bAAAAby.

Poor Evie Sue. Poor thing. I have totally missed out on some serious posts about this child. And, I've missed out on taking some really sweet pictures of her. Not knowing where the camera was, not knowing whether I was coming or going. Allowing myself to get completely overwhelmed with the business of moving, I'm afraid that I haven't given her the consideration on this thing that she deserves. I guess I've got no choice but to start now.

She's a sweet, sweet thing. One of the sweetest. She's a happy baby. She loves all of us. Her daddy. Her sister. Her brother. Her mama. And, we all love her back.

She loves to eat, as evidenced by the chunky size of her short little legs.

She loves to speak, as evidenced by the cute way she repeats the sounds back to us that we say over and over and OVER again.

She loves her play gym, and she rolled over for the first time on that thing on September 17...despite what her daddy says (assisting the roll doesn't count). She loves kicking and batting her little toys and staring at them with these huge, imploring eyes.

She loves to snuggle. So much.

She is so patient with us. She hardly cries, as if she understands that sometimes life is really busy for everyone and she doesn't want to create more drama (wish her sister could take a hint...:)).

And, she loves to smile...these gigantic, open-mouthed, toothless smiles that make her big baby blues sparkle and shine.

Mostly, she loves to love. She's such a love.
 

First Day of School!

Ella and Summit started their first day of school in August. (I'm clearly trying to catch up here.) They were so cute in their matching outfits and with their hair looking cleaner and prettier and more handsome than it's bound to look for the rest of the year.

Here's to kindergarten and third grade! Goodbye to late mornings and homework-free afternoons. I'll miss you lazy days of summer, but I'm so thankful for the opportunities that my kids have to learn in such a wonderful school.

Where did you come from, Kindergarten?

Well, last week really happened. Really. I've been dreading the moment since summer began, but dreading  it did me no favors. Neither did the crying or the fretting or the hemming and hawing. None of it. None of it prepared me for one of the hardest days my life has ever seen.

Taking my little fella down the hall and into that kindergarten classroom was rough. Even though I know he's in good hands. It was rough. We're peas and carrots, me and my Summit. Peas and carrots. He's been right there with me for 5 years. Right there. He loves me the most. He gets me, and I get him. I get his sense of humor and his sweet little ways. I know what he needs; that he's kind of sensitive and sometimes shy; that he's anxious about certain bugs; that he says he doesn't like math, but he really does; that when he gets scared, he really needs someone to hold his hand a little tighter. And he needs me the most.

And, I need him, too. I like having him around. He's funny. Really funny. And, he's sweet. Really sweet. He likes to be silly and laugh and make other people laugh. And, when I'm having a bad day, he tries to make it better, because he likes people to be happy the way he is always happy. I think it's awesome to watch him play with his toys (right now his favorite ones are the cheap little guys that come out of the gumball machine at San Jose); his imagination is so huge, and it makes me want to be fun and carefree and creative. I love his questions and his easy conversations. He keeps me grounded and young at heart (...clearly not on my face). Ha!

Still, it had to happen. Kindergarten had to happen. I had to let him go, and in doing so, know that this was the first of many times that I'll have to let him go a little farther from me. That morning was hard. Super hard. But, we did it. He was nervous, and he held my hand tighter than he's ever held it before. And, even though he wanted to cry, even though he didn't want to do it, he did it. He was brave and strong and ready. He stood there, contemplating his cubby, contemplating his new classroom, and he said his goodbyes and gave us his biggest hugs. And, he let us go. I think it was proof that we had done all we could to prepare him for moments like this. We're doing something right. Thank goodness.

And me? I bawled my eyes out, wondering where this kindergarten business came from.

Dusting Off the Keyboard

After quite a hiatus, I figured I best get to dusting off the old keyboard and direct some of my focus back on the business of blogging for my family. Part of it wasn't my fault, my neglect of cataloguing our family affairs; the insanely busy moving process has kept me and my computer hostage for more than a month.

And, what a crazy month it's been. Following 3 plus years of having our little old house on the market, we FINALLY received an offer on the damn thing. Could it have happened before the baby was born? Before she was 2 months old and needy as all get out? Before Summit started kindergarten? Before the start of the school year? Before I went back to work? Before summer was over? Apparently not. No. It had to happen RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of it all. Right in the middle. So, was it wild? Hell yes it was!

Mortgage borrowing ain't a pretty thing to deal with. Not at all. It's like being forced to stand on a stage naked, without having shaved ANYTHING for months or being able to work out for years, in front of everyone in the world. It's ugly. And stressful. And unpredictable. And can get you in a bit of trouble when your significant other sees that credit report with some of those shopping cards on that piece of paper, and all you can do is avoid looking anyone in the eye and whistle. And no matter how much you want everyone to stop looking at you, they look at you more. And, then they want more stuff...letters about how you had your first born and how you pay for toilet paper and how much it costs you to drive to the moon. (To be clear, we aren't deadbeats. We have very good credit.)

Also not pretty is dealing with nit picky psychos who want to buy your house. Or, rather, who want to buy your house for their kid and who don't have anything else to do except put everything you have put your heart and soul into for several years under a magnifying glass and pick it apart. How emotional. How exhausting.

But at least we sold the flipping thing. And, at least we found a great new place to live. It's beautiful and quiet and peaceful and perfect for our little family. And, we are so thankful to finally be here.  And, I'm so happy to be back to the blog. Please forgive my neglect, my loves.

Here's our new abode.

Here's my new favorite plant. This bush is covered with butterflies in the warmer months.

We Love Fripp.

Our one trip out of town this summer was to the beach. I'd been to Fripp as a kid, and my dad grew up around Beaufort, so he used to take us all over the low country down there. But, Matt and Ella and Summit and Evie Sue (I know that's not really her name) had never been, and that made our time on Fripp even cooler.

We hunted crabs on the beach at night, armed with iPhone flashlights (don't worry sea turtle lovers, they aren't that bright), a net, a bucket, and beer (don't worry DSS, we don't let the kids drink it).

We hunted crabs on the docks during the day. We failed.

We went for long walks on the beach and went swimming in the ocean.

We relaxed.

We saw friends we needed to see.

We did not feed the deer, to the lady who talked smack about stupid people feeding the deer.

We found time for each other.

We found cool stuff.

We saw beautiful things.

We love Fripp.