Push and Pull

Life is tugging at me. Pushing me and pulling me in all ways possible. I feel the call of summer pushing me forward, pushing me toward it in such a way where I want to rush through these next two weeks as quickly as can be.  Then there is an ending that is pulling me away, pulling me in such a way where I must slow down and take in each precious moment before it melts away into summer.  This ending is near  and boy is it bittersweet.

Throughout the past few weeks I have been trying to prepare myself for it, yet whenever I slow down enough to really think about it, my eyes fill with tears and I find a lump in my throat so big that I know without a doubt that something magical is coming to a close. Those of you who know me well know I am not a lover of goodbyes, therefore having difficulty saying goodbye to Mason as a preschooler shall come as no surprise.

Our little ol' tent pitched under the zipline between the spiderweb structure and the honeysuckle.
Ellie's guitar resting from a night of campfire concerts. We brought home a bunch of sand and a whole lot of memories.

Last week we spent the night at the preschool campout.  The ground was hard, the wind was cold, and the next work day was incredibly long and extended into an art show after school. I wouldn't have traded the experience in for a night's sleep at home.  I don't know that I can describe the feeling I get from being in a place that is just so right.  I found myself slowing down to take in many moments that night and morning. The quote painted on the sunflower mural of the school wall reads, "How could this day be any better?"  A boy in Mason's class spoke these words this year and they are SO true and powerful they painted this mural a month ago.

"How could this day be any better?"

When you find people and places that allow you shine as your true self, allow you to grow and take risks, you must jump in and savor every moment.

I recently was asked to write a few words to add to an end of the year book one of the moms was putting together.  I avoided it until I could wait no longer.  I knew I wanted to write something, but the words would not come.  Perhaps by not writing, the ending could wait a bit more.

Last weekend I asked Mason, "What do you like about your preschool?"  From there my words finally came.

Mason,

We have struggled to capture the right words we needed to write what we have loved about your preschool experiences.  When I asked you, you said, “I love the whole entire preschool!” 

We are so alike.  How can we simply pick one or even a few things about it?  The magic of the preschool relies on it all.  From the creations you have built, to the play you have had, campouts, parties, toilet paper day, the friends, the mommies and daddies, and all your teachers we have truly lived the good life these past 3 years.

As you move forward you have such a strength and love of life you bring from this special place. It will always be a part of you and us.

We love you,

Mommy, Daddy, and Ellie

As we look out to what lies before us, I am pulled by my desire to stay and my hope for what the future holds. May we always surround ourselves with people and places that make us stop and wonder, "How could this day be any better?"

Oh How I Have Missed You

The early morning wake up with a bit of quiet time to think, to write, to embrace the moments that I have loved. I have so many stories to tell, but I know that time is limited this morning, so I will begin with just a bit and then unleash what remains another time. Oh how I miss writing, sharing, relishing the moments that make me stop and embrace, rather than overload. For being a mother can make you max out and be on warp speed where you forget your purpose for such speeds. It is when you allow yourself to step out of that for a moment and remind yourself "it all can wait that" you can begin to see that rushing around makes you miss out on the true gems of the moment. 

"We're firefighters, Mommy!"  They both shouted to me after spending time up in Mason's room Saturday morning.  Notice the yellow and orange badges they have taped on their shirts.

A friend of mine was overwhelmed by what she envisioned my mothering to be like the other day after reading one of my status updates. I had to laugh, "That was after I had to step back and give myself a break." I had hit my limit of whining, end of day exhaustion and had to walk over and sit myself out for a few. It was then, while sitting when I could see the magic unfolding in front of me.  


Ellie put on flippers as the sun was going down on our evening of play outside and wanted to go in our little pool. When I said no, Mason said, "Come on Ellie, you can come inside and put your swimsuit on and we can go upstairs and I will draw fish pictures everywhere and it will be the ocean. Mommy, come on, we need a lot of art stuff."


It was then that I realized I needed that.  I needed to dive in and play and play and play.  


We went upstairs and taped Mason's fish drawings to the ceiling and swam like we never swam before.  We were eaten by sharks, but don't worry, we were okay. Mason had his chainsaw and we escaped only to be eaten and chainsawed out three or four more times. 
I wish I had more time to write and to capture more of these moments when they come to mind, but even when I can't get them down on paper or here on our little ol' blog I try to remind myself to notice. 


There they are the pitter patter of Ellie's feet.  My usual wake up call that I was up before today.  She just came to find me and smiled.  I said softly as I picked her up, "I love you." 


"I love you, too Mommy."


I will snuggle up a few minutes of this before the day unravels. 


Happy Mother's Day mamas out there.  


And to my Mom, I sure do miss you.  Love you bunches.