I’ve documented plenty of Dev’s Lego creations. He makes them all the time after all. He’s slightly obsessed.
Last night he asked me to play Legos with him. I often groan at this request. My grown-up mind isn’t as interested as my childhood one once was in creating things without boundaries. At least not things made out of little plastic pieces.
But for some reason I was in the groove, plugging pieces here and there and borrowing on Devin’s imaginative approach to brick-building to come up with something that wasn’t pre-planned at all, yet had a definitely structure and purpose to it. The purpose. To fly through space and assist other weary Star Wars types. There’s a handy carry-all on the back with tools and, well, a weapon to defend oneself. And the ship is streamlined and compact.
I’m obviously ever so satisfied with my efforts. And he was too. “Wow, Momma, I really like your creation!” Grin.
Rather than complain about the frigid arctic temperatures, which I’m tempted to do, I’ll be grateful for:
1. The sun that came out this afternoon.
2. The friendliness of Laurel’s cat, Molly, who didn’t run away from Devin today.
3. My dog resigning herself to the fact that I’m too cold to walk her tonight. (I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, Juliette!)
4. A yummy red pear with dinner tonight.
5. And, of course, goofing around with my favorite boy.
When I left work the other night, something seemed different. I was walking across the parking lot as I always do. Then it dawned on me. It wasn’t dark outside! It was 5:00 and there was still a slice of light lingering in the sky. The simple fact that the days are getting longer puts some optimism in my attitude. I struggle to be cheery during January and February when the grey dominates the sky and slushy snow dominates the sidewalk. Knowing we’re moving toward spring, slowly but surely, makes a big difference in my outlook.
I’ve always been attracted to goofs. I married one even. (He should not be offended if he reads this. He should be flattered.) I’m actually quite uncomfortable around people who don’t have a bit of goof in them. I worked with a creative director years ago who had zero sense of humor. I couldn’t connect with her. The quiet, serious folks who eye me with disdain are the ones who make me babble from nervousness. Well, I admit that I babble even when I’m not nervous, but it’s much, much worse when I am.
It’s perfect, then, that my kid is a complete goofball. He makes things fun. If you’re nice to me, I might let you borrow him for a bit.
What? The holidays are over already?
Yeah. I say that every year. Once Halloween hits it seems like time speeds up and the year is over before you know it. It doesn’t help matters that I have a kid who’s growing taller every day and making time seem so ethereal. It also doesn’t help that I watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button yesterday and understood another concept of wanting to suspend time. There’s never now. There’s always then and when.
I found a large swath of gray hairs a couple of months ago. They were probably there for a while, escaping my notice. Because you get a little caught up in the routine of seeing yourself in the mirror daily and who takes the extra minute to look a bit closer? But I pulled my hair back and was startled. I never thought gray hairs would be so shocking. I knew they’d come sooner or later. I suppose I assumed that with my blonde hair, it would be later. But the camouflage isn’t working. They’re springing out from beneath the blondish-brown strands and making themselves known.
I don’t feel like I have gray hairs. How can I when I have this little dynamo zipping around the house who makes me laugh and reminds me of the simpler treats in life?
A day when you make mugs of hot cocoa.
Even though it was the Swiss Miss packaged variety, it tasted grand. He likes marshmallows. I prefer whipped cream. (OK…Cool Whip. So when it comes to my hot cocoa, I’m no gourmet.) I found some sprinkles the other day that were hidden amongst some other items in the cabinet and though they’d make a grand addition too. We just have to dig out the holiday mugs to make the ensuing occasions all the more festive.
I’m a bit cheerful about the coming winter and this time of year. Because I know it’s inevitable. And there is a certain magic about the snow and ice. It’s just that I’m pretty much tired of it by January. So my warm and toasty winter-themed posts will probably be long gone by then. Get ’em while you can!
The warmth is leeching from my body.
In Arizona, I was frying. Hot, hot, hot. And now I’m cold, of course. I left that lovely sunshine behind too. Although it must not be so unbearable because I took Juliette for a walk tonight in my PJ pants. In the rain. I’m crazy like that.
Snapped beneath cloudy, breezy skies at Robinette’s.
I’m bummed. It’s been raining for days. The sun peeks in once in a while and then burrows behind the clouds again. The leaves are just beginning to change colors, but the ones that have fallen from the trees are lying in soggy disarray on the grass.
Fall is my favorite season. And I feel like it’s avoiding me. I need crunchy leaves. I need vivid bright blue skies. I need trips to the pumpkin patch. I need time to put my garden to bed and tidy up the yard.
The thing about me and this site is that I feel that every single post should include a photo — whether or not that photo is relevant to the topic of discourse. So when I haven’t snapped photos for days, I feel disinclined to post. I’m slightly neurotic, I know. Luckily I visited my mother this weekend and snapped some shots of her elderly yorkie. She doesn’t look bad for 16, does she?
A week or so ago, a co-worker asked me if I’d take her daughter’s one-year photos. I was surprised. I’ve never really considered photographing other people’s kids. (Self-confidence issues, no doubt.) And the only other time someone asked me to be a pretend professional photographer was when I snapped the pics for my friend Renee’s wedding.
Those moments just seem so precious to me and there’s this sense of responsibility that comes with that. What if I screw it up? I’m pretty proud of a lot of the photographs I’ve taken of Dev, sure, but those come out of no-pressure, everyday moments.
Although my first instinct was to say no, I decided to ignore myself and do it.
I’m so glad I did! The rest of the little lady is as completely adorable as those toes, I can assure you. And I managed to get quite a few decent shots. In record time, I might add, because she was quite devastated when her mom wouldn’t let her eat the wood chips and immediately collapsed into a pool of tears. And, of course, I had to take a few photos of those too.
For the first time in years, I have real vacation time. The kind where I get paid for my relaxation efforts instead of losing out on my revenue stream any time I take a day off. This year, though, we haven’t been able to take our customary family vacations. So I hadn’t been using my time or even thinking of how to use it. Until I realized the advantages of taking a day or two off throughout the summer season and getting some extra time to myself.
I actually took three this time around and still have two of them left. Friday Dev and I drove to the other side of the state to visit friends (one of whom is pictured above). We spent a couple of days there just doing nothing. (Well, I did nothing…he played!) Now I just have to figure out what to do with my Monday and Tuesday this week. Oh, the possibilities.
It’s really just that I’ve fallen in love with my 15-year-old bike. I’ve had affection for it many times over the years, but this is a bit different. On the nights when Scott has bedtime duty, I’ve begun to hop on my two wheels and explore. It’s nice and quiet and the light is just right in the almost-evening sky. And it feels so good when the muscles in my legs are burning and I feel like there’s just no way I’m going to make it up that hill. But I do. Bikes are good things. So are hills. And so are summer evenings when I have half an hour to myself to pedal through the nooks and crannies of my neighborhood.