Click

I so wished I had my camera with me yesterday while the kids and I went for a walk around the neighborhood. Just picture in your mind's eye: images of them climbing trees, prancing and skipping and galloping down the sidewalk toward the beckoning playground, twisting and winding their way through shrub mazes as they make up grand stories that leave cheeks dimpled with grins and eyes sparkling with mischief. I could have taken pictures here, and here, and here, and while I sort of regret that I've left my camera in the cupboard a little bit more in the past weeks, I sort of regret nothing at all because I have not missed a single moment of the laughter in my efforts to capture it with a click. As we wandered the shrub maze I encountered Gabriel with a proud look on his face.

"I am the president!" he declared.

"The president of what?" I asked.

"The President of the United States."

"Oh, well, nice to meet you Mr. President." I extended my hand for a hearty shake. "Tell me, what do plan on doing to remedy our failing economy?"

Gabriel pondered my question for a moment and then stoutly declared: "Everyone must come to the wedding!" And he proceeded to hustle Amelia and Abigail to the altar, and they were none too reluctant to oblige. Their grooms' identities remained a mystery throughout, though that seemed to dampen the festive mood not one bit. Click, click, click. Memories put away in my heart for another day to come back and replay in my mind.

We have had plenty to keep us busy and plenty to keep three little voices talking in these past weeks. Preschool is a decided hit and I am glad to report my little scholars are eager for school days, but not so disappointed on non-school days as to cause distress. Somehow we got a good balance figured out pretty quickly. Gabriel did cry the first several days when I picked him up from school (no, NOT when I dropped him off), but we seem to have passed those early days of transition trauma by now. They are coming home singing new songs and telling me how to properly wash my hands and boasting about their jobs as calendar helper and line leader. All seems well in the preschool world. And all is well with me figuring out what to do with myself when my kids are occupied. Here's the secret: plan nothing. I had this silly idea that I actually needed an answer when I thought about what I would do when my kids are in school. But the reality is that three hours, three mornings a week, minus drive time, really is not all that much. So what do I do when my kids are at school? So far I clean my house and run errands and listen to podcasts and watch a little TV and go on bike rides and runs and... so far that seems like enough. Life feels no less full, no quieter really. Perhaps it is because the buzz is always there, even when the bees are busy playing at the water table and learning about the letter "A."

Life is going full speed ahead and to prove it we are jumping on the ballet train tomorrow and the soccer train next week and God is meeting me here and there and everywhere I go, surprise surprise. MOPS has started full swing and my steering team keeps me thinking and my duties writing the newsletter keep me planning ahead. My kids are big enough to get their own string cheese out of the fridge and fill their own water cups out of the spout. They try to brush their own teeth and pick out their own clothes. They pack their backpacks and buckled their car seats. Sometimes they say the most wonderful things ("Mommy, I think I love you.") and sometimes they say the most confusing things ("One day pants with nobody inside them went off to find a fork because he had something to eat but no forks in his house.") And I am astonished and awestruck that this keeps happening to me day after day after day and someday, someday, this won't be happening to me anymore and I will miss it so. I know I am blessed with the ability to know, in the moment, that I want to savor this juicy life of mine. But I still feel so inept to be able to sponge it all up and let it seep into my pores. How do I hold on to the wonderful without spurning the coming of inevitable tomorrow? God, please help me thank you in this moment, and this one and this one and this one. I've got the joy joy joy joy down in my heart, down in my heart to stay! Thank God each day is a gift. What do I get to open tomorrow?

I have not entirely neglected my camera, just mostly, so here are a few recent photos that capture the beauty. Abigail has mastered riding her bike with no training wheels, the girls' latest fascination with collecting rocks, and Gabriel showing off his mad riding skills have been collected for the record books. Enjoy!