I know, I know. We’re on to cyber deals and Christmas parties, but first I must pay homage to our glorious fall.
New season, new goals!
School starts and she still holds my hand
A new fridge. And a brother-in-law who is all in!
Lazy lump days
My favorite cows
Is any running better than fall running? A completed piano chart!
Girl in a tree
Love this guy.
Baby blow that horn! Her siblings love this sound 🙂
Grandpa moves in! We are happy.
My soccer girls! Finishing the basement. So much work. So much satisfaction.
Fiery skies atop Maple Street
The woods were lonely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep…
Early morning drives
The boy paints his first bathroom
Thanksgiving! Our great Goody neighbor She sings The basement is almost livable! The boy’s room.
Saying good-bye to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. We close today.
You were glorious.
“Seasons are not only realities that occur outside and around us, in the skies and in the trees. I believe seasons are also internal and personal, interwoven into the fabric of human life. We are designed to transition, to change, and to vary. Our souls have seasons.” -Adam McHugh
About a year ago, in the spirit of trying to be more organized, I mapped out a calendar of posts I wanted to write instead of my usual writing-everything-on-the-fly-however-the-muse-moves-me way of blogging.
Intentions were good. Output was poor.
I also didn’t pay particular attention to particular events, like the election, and how we all might be feeling post-voting. This week I had “laundry post,” slated.
But I’ve been feeling rather despondent post-election. A laundry post seemed rather…trivial. Didn’t our country need more? I could only stare glumly at the black screen…who cares about laundry? Write something important, something meaningful, something big.
So I wrote nothing.
Not to worry, my heart is coming back. How is the state of your heart?
So I unplugged for a bit and boy was it refreshing. Even Hilary went for a walk the day after! Nature is soul cleansing. When I run outside in the woods, breathe in fall air, crunch in leaves, our sweet land of liberty feels good. It’s not what happens to us, but thinking that makes it so.
As always is the case, when you are searching, you find. This gem from Sarah:
There should be less talk, a preaching point is not always a meeting point. What do you do then? Take a broom and clean someone’s house. That says enough. All of us are but His instruments who do our little bit and pass joy.
Isn’t that great? Take a broom and clean someone else’s house! Oh yes, I am 100% positive that if you picked up a broom in my house, I would feel very JOYFUL.
Mother Theresa, oh wise one, also said:
War is the fruit of politics,
so I don’t involve myself, that’s all.
If I get stuck in politics, I will stop loving.
Because I will have to stand by one, and not stand by all.
This is the difference.
This is the difference. I’ve had a personal political crisis of late, but these words speak to me, reminding that I can only control what is in my circle of influence, and that is enough. In fact, if we all did that a little better with our own families, the world would take care of itself.
If that feels too big at this very moment, try something smaller: make your bed.
Yes, that’s the advice from happiness guru, Gretchen Rubin. Sounds trivial and small, perhaps, but maybe there’s more to it. The simple act of getting out of bed and pulling up your covers is not only satisfying, it marks the start of the day. It makes our world feel a little more orderly and organized. And every time you walk back into your room, it’s a nicer place to enter.
I think the making of the bed also signifies something bigger for us: It’s time to rise up! A bed made signals a resolve to face the world. You can’t crawl under the sheets and hide anymore. You must rise, and find a way to be good and brave and kind.
So there we go. It’s rather simple. Turn off the news, find Nature, pick up a broom for someone, make the bed. And than all will be well, my friends.
Because good cinnamon rolls and a little bit of faith are game changers, right?
Oh my darlin’, these were a little too tasty. Meaning you can’t eat just one. This King Arthur recipe was a first for me…and it won’t be the last! (No, I did not add any avocados…not even to the frosting.)
It’s the most wonderful time of the year! We’ve enjoyed the last of the summer tomatoes. Our poor neglected garden gave us the most beautiful harvest. We love you, garden. Running along country roads I often encounter wildlife. Here is Yurtle. The turning of the leaves. How I love the color and the crunch. The “Ugly” tomato variety is our favorite. First apple pie of the year, courtesy of King Arthur Flour. I love running/training in the Fall, but don’t love the shorter hours of daylight. Thankfully I have running buddies who keep me going. Our routine: 5 a.m. Monday hills and 5 a.m. Wednesday speed work. It’s so dark we start with headlamps and we end with headlamps. Groovy! Early morning runs keep the crazy away and give the most beautiful views of the day. Fog, peace, and sunrises. My middle school soccer team – I LOVE THEM! My girl is #5. Coaching my children has been of the most valuable and bonding experiences I have had with them. I highly recommend! Icing with your siblings is also bonding! Paige is following in her family’s footsteps! Changing topics…my A&P class has begun. We autopsied Dill Pickle, practiced our suture skills, and determined cause of death (the creativity was hilarious.) Ah yes, the organization of running a home and the innumerable activities does not happen without much planning. Hence my messy desk and beet smoothies for endurance. YUM. Fall has once again brought clogged drains. I’m sorry for the disgustingness but hopefully my real life makes your real life feel better. And anyway, this orange thingy drain snake ordered from Amazon is AWESOME! Instead of pouring really horrible and toxic chemicals down the drain we stick this snake thingy down and bring up all the hair. After wretching I’m quite satisfied with once-again clean drains. Let’s get back to baking some King Arthur Flour hot buttered soft pretzels! Piano charts! I’ve always wanted corn stalks on the porch. Yahoo!An attempt at a festive fall welcome, with bonus points of REALLY smelly soccer cleats perched at nose level, atop a cardboard box holding an American Standard toilet. ‘Cause we’re classy like that. Also: I need a wreath.
And…a new school year begins. As always, we are off and running. Are you running, too? Let’s take slow breaths and think calm thoughts. This helps stave off the frazzled, panicky, snapping mama that is so fun to be around. Or is that just me?
Last year I remember thinking, “There is nothing more I can add to my plate. This pace is insane.” Well, there is more this year, including more emotion as my darling Cope is a senior. Oh dear, I need to change the subject now…
So anyway, a new school year always reminds me to sloooow down. Which is the definition of irony, isn’t it?
I have two mantras at the moment:
Remember: If you don’t prioritize your life, someone else will.
Remember: Once your direction is clear, you can give attention to pace.
Priorities became very obvious after this summer. In a crisis, family comes to the forefront every time. Perhaps we needn’t wait for the crisis’ to prioritize.
I’m going to tell you about a very special mother who has taught me a lot about priorities: Ginny B.
Ginny B. has a very wonderful son named Benny B.
If you don’t know Benny B, I’m very sorry. For he’s a good boy to know.
He is one of those boys we point to and say, “Try to be like Benny B.” He is kind and honest and funny and always has a big smile that lights up all the space around him. After high school Benny B. went on to study and play basketball at Brandeis University – and he is still a good boy!
Well, good boys don’t get grown by accident now, do they? Just by knowing Benny B., you have to admire the family behind the scenes.
The Professor and I attended Benny B.’s college graduation a few years ago. I had met his mother, Ginny B. before, but I was very struck of how obviously Benny B. loved her.
I felt – Envy? Longing? Wishing? When my children flew the nest, would we have that kind of relationship?
“Benny B., you and your mom seem really close.”
“Oh,” Benny B. said. “She’s my best friend. I tell her everything.”
I pounced. “How did you do that?” I asked Ginny B. “Tell me all of your secrets!”
“You know, Amy,” she said. “I just always made sure I was waiting at the kitchen table. No matter how old they were or how late it was, I just always tried to be there when they came home.”
I have a pang of guilt every time I think of Ginny B. because there are few things I like more than climbing into my bed…at like, 8. As my children grow older they are not tucked in at 7:30 every night. Darn it. Hmmm. Could the kitchen table be substituted for say…my bed?
I have decided this is a doable substitute.
I’m waiting, baby! (zzzz….)
Benny B. and the great Ginny:
I don’t know a lot about Ginny B. but I know motherhood hasn’t been all honey dew and butterflies. The family has made a lot of sacrifices for Ginny B. to be able to stay home. They make due on one income. Their home is modest and well cared for. There are touches of Ginny everywhere, from the plethora of hostas lining the front walkway, to the homemade quilts hung over furniture. There’s nothing showy about their lifestyle; only comfortable and welcoming (including a lot of delicious homemade food.)
I’m a mom who needs reminders like this. The pull of the world is strong, my young padawans. There are opportunities to be snatched, and of course we need jobs and money to live. But there’s a point where we don’t actually need to accumulate more stuff or more status or more.
Ginny B. made the decision to be waiting when her children came home. Let the chips fall where they may. This is how the chips fell: Her children love their mother. They are best friends. They tell her everything. And I just love that.
Ginny B. even loves my children, too.
Now, I’m sure Ginny B. and Benny B. have had many “moments.” Ginny isn’t, shall we say, a timid or docile flower. For goodness sake, her hair is red. She’s opinionated and fiery! But gosh darn it, she waits and she listens and the children talk.
Here is Benny B. and The Professor. They both have great hair. If you need hair product tips, just sit quietly and listen to their conversations. It’s both hilarious and enlightening.
Now listen: this is not a post to cause you motherhood guilt! For goodness sake, if you can’t always be home when the kids walk through the door, they’re not ruined. This story was just good for me to witness. It is good to see a boy with good hair turn out so well. It is really good to see Benny B. love his mother so much and to be reminded that mothers can’t be outsourced. Feel special, gosh darn it. You’re NEEDED.
Carole, a friend of mine, lost her mother many many years ago, and I haphazardly scribbled this down when she spoke – “I couldn’t wait to get off the bus and run to her, even in high school. Even when she was gone I found myself wanting to tell her things – and I can’t wait for the day when I can tell her all the things I want to tell her.”
The thing is, if we’re not around, they can’t tell us all the things.
My mother was a mom who waited for us (and she likes sleep even more than I do.) Growing up, she placed above the entrance to the kitchen: The Gathering Place. (Take heart: my mother hates to cook!)
But even when we are all grown, and my parents moved across the country, she insisted on a home that was big enough for us all to come and gather. And she still drives a minivan! (She says it’s for comfort, but I secretly think she likes to pick up stray grandchildren…:) ) Even now that I’m a pretend grown-up I know she’s waiting. #lucky.
Benny B. and my boy:Wait for them. And they’ll keep coming home.
What I love about summer? More reading time. One day I told Paige we were having a reading hour right in the middle of the morning. We laid on my bed for a whole hour and read. It was quite blissful and I vowed to make a daily habit. It wasn’t, but I encourage you to lay aside tasks and chores and television for more words and books.
Paige finished the 7th Harry Potter book – a huge feat for a 9-year-old, but especially gratifying as this was my child who did not care much for reading; it was too hard! But then she discovered Harry. She was in mourning for days with a beloved Harry book to read, but I pushed Laura Ingalls and she’s enamored with a whole other world once again.
I just love good books. Here are my summer reads: what I loved and what I didn’t.
The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah: Covers WWII in France and serves as a warning of how insidious Hitler’s type of evil can spread. Hard to read at times as it deals with the choices mothers and fathers are forced to make during wartime. Really well written and definitely worth the read! And it will make you cry and pray for peace.
2. The Book of Mormon: I read this often, almost everyday, and always learn new life insights. It’s changed my life. And it’s free 🙂
5. The Self-Care Solution by Julie Burton: Julie reached out to me and asked if I would read and review her new book. It was terrific, a read mothers should read, study, and heed. I’ve got a copy to give away to the first person who asks! I’d love to send it your way. Congrats, Julie!
6. Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee: I resisted for months – who dares to complicate or cast a shadow on my favorite of books, TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD? Alas, I opened the book and was quite delighted with Scout, all grown up. There’s so much controversy over the discovery of this manuscript (Google it – fascinating!), but I’m most intrigued by the fact it was the first draft of what would become her great classic. It shows the great power of an editor!
8. The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman: I loved this. The movie is coming out in September and Cope and I will be first in line! A great love story. How far would you go for the one you loved? Would you let your wife keep a baby that wasn’t really hers – even under serendipitous circumstances? What would you do if someone tried to take away your only child? The writing is tremendous – and you will cry! My favorite type of book 🙂
9. Truly, Madly, Guilty by Liane Moriarty: My BFF librarian, Gail, ordered Moriarty’s new book and personally handed it over as soon as it came in. What a gal, right!? As always, Moriarty nails character. She always makes me laugh and think. I didn’t love the plot as much as her other books, but I still enjoyed the read.
10. Hamilton, The Revolution by Lin-Manuel Miranda and Jeremy McCarter: This book is the score, with footnotes on how each original Broadway cast member was cast, and the long road of writing such a brilliant work of art. Hamilton, the Musical is now an 11-times Tony-award winning hip-hop musical on broadway. Don’t like musicals? Put that aside. This is unlike anything you’ve ever heard or listened to.
Have you ever wondered how a tiny band of scholars and mercenaries defeated the greatest superpower in the world? And then went on to write a Bill of Rights and Constitution, something never before seen or heard in the world?
Do you know anything about Alexander Hamilton? “Every other founding father’s story gets told. Every other founding father gets to grow old.” Lin-Manuel has put Hamilton’s extraordinary life to music in the form of a rap: “How does a rag tag volunteer army in need of a shower, somehow defeat a global superpower?”
I’m OBSESSED with the genius of it all. Back story: Lin-Manuel Miranda was on vacation reading ALEXANDER HAMILTON by Rob Chernow. He was struck by the brilliant, young, ambitious founding father and told his wife, “I think this could be a hip-hop musical.” She didn’t laugh. Instead: “That would be cool.” And so it began. Chernow’s book is on my list. The girls and I don’t drive anywhere without blasting and rapping Hamilton lyrics (to Nelson’s great embarrassment). There are a few expletives…beware. It will make you grateful for America, it will make you want to “rise up!”, and it will make you cry. It’s SO GOOD!
Last summer my mom said: “We need to stay in touch better. I’ve been feeling disconnected.”
Remember when you and your siblings all lived at home under the same roof? Remember how you knew everything about each other? I never really thought there would come a day when I didn’t know all the details of my sibling’s lives.
I mean, we spent a lot of time together. Oink.
But it happened. We five siblings left for college, missionary service, and marriage.
Including my parents, we are now in four different states across the country.
The Professor’s family is in five different states and not all in the same country!
We read each other’s blogs and Facebook updates, but it isn’t quite the same as a nitty gritty written update about kitchen appliances and how potty training is really going.
And so, last summer, we began a family newsletter.
This happened around the same time I was listening to a Gretchen Rubin podcast. Apparently, her family has been doing this for years. And if Gretchen says it’s a good habit, it is!
We have two rules:
It’s okay to be boring
It’s okay to be short
We’ve been going strong for a year.
Every Sunday we write a little update of what happened during the week, and while no one is actually in charge of kicking off the weekly email, it always gets started by someone.
I tell you what, it’s been even more fantastic than I thought it would be. Surprisingly, family updates are never boring, and they’re rarely short. Once you start writing, you keep writing. And what’s boring to you (grocery shopping with twins), is fascinating to your siblings and parents.
There have been no downsides. On the contrary, we look forward to it every week. We know what’s going on with each other. We are as close as we’ve ever been. That is due, in large part, because we have made a conscious effort to stay in touch. We still text and call, but the weekly newsletter has been even more bonding.
Letter writing art. And while we don’t use a quill and scroll (maybe we should?), I save all the emails in an email file entitled “Journal.” Personalities come through in a different way when writing. Funny stories are shared, and sad ones too. With two deaths in the family this year, it was actually painful to start writing again. But it was also the best shared therapy we could have had.
Sometimes Brynne, my 12-year-old writes the newsletter. Here’s one of my favorites:
Makechnie Newsletter by Brynne
The Makechnie family had a great week. Cope was made student leader, Nelson is enjoying lacrosse, and Brynne and Paige both recited poems at their school for poetry night. Both of them did a great job and now have this coming week off from school. They are going to do many “fun” things, such as orthodontist appointments, cleaning, yard work, walking the dog, going through clothes, and taking out the garbage.
Up in NH we are enjoying the weather! Although some of the weather has been bad, most of it has been warm and sunny, and this week the weather is going to be lovely. Today J-A-Y came to church with the Makechnie family! We think he enjoyed it, but if he didn’t he was too polite to tell us that. Cope had other drama this week too. In Vocal Ensemble she fainted. Amy thinks she was just tired. It was quite dramatic, and Cope narrowly avoided throwing up on Jay’s shoes! That would have been terrible! Happy Passover!
Donations are what keep this newsletter running!!!
Ha. Brynne will give you the real dirt!
The day will come, when the darlings leave us.
It could be by boat:
Or a Ford truck:
Someday, my fab four won’t live under the same roof or swim in the same ocean:So. We must stay in touch!
Write to one another. Every week. Because you can. I can guarantee, you won’t regret it!