Posting To Post

While the internet was down yesterday, I formed the most amazing mental Goonyou? post. One where the sentences laced together and my perception of the weekend's events were effortless. Today, with the internet up and running, the ability to produce a post at the end of my finger tips, sentences are being forming as smoothly as when I trying to drive standard, which isn't even close to being compared to, effortless or amazing.

Scattered, doesn't even come close to describe the rush of incoherent streaming in my present consciousness. So in my attempt to focus on slowing the late night's racing thoughts, bare with me, if you will.

Each day, I'm becoming more and more aware of the run, little Miss Josephine, is going to be giving her father and I. I know people laugh when I tell them she's trouble, because she's little, and charming, sweet and quick to flirt… but.she.is. Trouble, with a capital T. She's just bursting with the irresistible combination of mischief and innocent. A dangerous mixture I'm learning can easily be downgraded with sleep snuggles, deep belly giggles, or the sweetest of baby pure love kisses. The kind of kisses that just beg you to burry your nose deep in the secret creek of her neck, that makes her wiggle and giggle, in an instant turning all that is mischievous, Precious… with a capital P.


(The photos are all blurry, because when I was trying to capture 'that look' in her eyes, I had to keep diving to catch her before she feel on her face.. of course, only encouraging her to do it more)

Wesley spent the night at a friend's house on Saturday night, giving the other two and I, a taste of what it will be like as soon as school starts… it was a little rocky…



The focus of playing with Wesley, shifted to focusing on playing with Mumma, and Mumma shifted that focus to playing in the hurricane ran…



Today, we had him to ourselves, and I wish I could report that the rockiness steadied, but it didn't. A sure sign, that everyone's ready, it's time for the shift back. We're hurrying up and waiting, for the summer shift to shift again.



And as heavy as my eyes are becoming and as slow as the thoughts are being processed, I know it will be far from effortless, but as equally amazing.

Resisting The Resistance

The last few days have had an underlining chill to them. The day's breeze is cool and night's air light and fresh. Hoodies have replaced tank tops and the summer shorts have gradually lengthened into capris. Surprisingly, I'm ok with this. My resistants to cooler weather is usually meet with an instant denial, but not this time around. One thing this summer has awaken me to is, as much as I don't want summer to end and perfer winter to stay at bay, the transition is happening… whether I like it or not.



Kind of like, Wesley growing up.

I've been more than resistant to the fact, that while my baby boy's getting older, the boundaries I so badly want to keep him in, are getting to confided, for a boy who wants to explore, the world he is becoming more aware of each day.

I want to keep him my baby, but he's not, and I'm not doing either of us any favors by ignoring that fact.



And with his first maiden voyage, on his only hand brake capable bike , across a quiet road, often traveled on to fast, down a lonely dirt road, with unsuspecting roots, he left his Mumma behind. I would be lying if I said, my heart didn't instantly feel hollow, as I watched him from the porch, without me by his side, doing his thing. He wasn't gone more than 5 minutes, but the amount he grew within them, swelled my heart just as quick.



With the simple crossing of a road, we've unexpectedly crossed into a new level of explored independence and building trust, simultaneously bettering us both. I'm warming up to the idea and a little embarrassed about the fact, that I have to do so much work at keeping the resistance of letting go, held back. It might have something to do with my deep desire to always be in control. At the reigns to always steer around the trouble, heart ache, and disappointment. Carrying the brunt of all that's bad for my kids, to allow them to soak up only the best of all that is good.

So we're on a new leg of our journey, while some are welcoming the unexplored realm that comes with the territory of being Eight years old, others are doing what they can to hold back the initial urge of resistance to all that is too quickly shifting…

whether I like it or not.



(just for the record… I don't like it)