Parenting isn’t all canon balls into the deep end, amusement rides, and ice cream cones. But, man, when we’re able to enjoy a week of those sugary sweet moments, it sure makes us breathe deeply and remember that parenthood also isn’t all sibling bickerings, chaotic dinners, and chores with whining.

Lazy mornings followed by lazy afternoons and time spent with each other, talking and dreaming, late nights with abbreviated bedtime routines. Lazy gets such a bad rap, does it not? Those are the images in their heads that I want to stay put, not ones of going places and doing stuff or lots of entertaining activities, but the pictures of real comfort when impromptu games of Battleship and Uno in our couch-potato attire trump a schedule and to-do lists and demands.

In 5 weeks, when my kids are asked no doubt what they did this summer, I hope the words not much are in their answers…and maybe Uno.

 

Parents who own a place at the beach that they reserve only for family enjoyment = perfect family vacations every single year.

That’s where we are now which means I might not blog for a week…or I could blog more than I have for the past month combined. All depends on how inspired I am to be creative this week and how much time I have to have that inspiration actually produce something. That could be a little bit challenging.

Lydia on the morning of Day 1

Lydia on the morning of Day 2

 

If you think that’s something, you should see her moves after she has some Fisher’s popcorn in her…or at least breakfast.

She’s one of the reasons I need coffee every morning.

It was months of asking a question I simply could not answer.

When will I lose my first tooth?

When she texted me from Philly when I was across the world to tell me she had two wiggly ones, I was worried I might miss the big event. But, that was about 5 weeks ago now, 5 weeks of lots of wiggling and lots of me covering my eyes because loose teeth are seriously gross.

The 5 weeks culminated last night in a whole lot of back and forth drama (i.e., “Pull it!…No, don’t pull it!….okay, just wiggle it….No, don’t touch it!”). We had given up the cause when she came downstairs about 40 minutes later and succumbed to the desire to be rid of that crazy snaggletooth. One little wiggle from Daddy later, and we had this.

Which led to lots of celebration around here which included fully waking up her big brothers who had somehow slept through the final tooth delivery.

Oh, that perfect smile is now a new sort of perfect, I guess. Even with a big ole hole, she’s adorable.

And, in case you can’t quite see that hole, here’s one more extreme close up that she very proudly posed for.

I think every single person at church today was given the big news, which she cared way more about than the bag of 10 quarters, 10 dimes, 10 nickels, and 10 pennies that we slipped under her pillow.

I wasn’t going to stop.

I love me a yard sale. I seem to always manage to find some treasure I think I cannot live without. I bring it home all excited and smiles; Mark typically looks on and shakes his head, clearly believing we could have in fact lived without whatever it is. Whatever.

But, this time, I wasn’t going to stop. But, I saw this. And, Mark did too. And, right there in our Honda Odyssey we had one of those heart fusion moments as a couple. Maybe music started playing; I’m not sure because I was too busy looking at this beauty.

10 minutes and $10 later, we had ourselves a vintage typewriter.

Isn’t it simply handsome with its dark grey metal finish and low profile, sleek lines?

Our house has been transformed into an office from the 1960s as the clicks and clacks of typewriter keys and the zip of the return to a new line fill up whatever quiet there is. This typewriter has created more words this week than it probably has in decades, producing everything from murder mystery stories to messages for mom (think notes like “When are we going to the pull?”) and pages of what looks like letters from someone with a really foul mouth as all the fancy symbols are tried. They can’t get enough of this new-fangled contraption. I may or may not have had these words come out of my mouth: “If you don’t stop, you are going to lose your typewriter time.”

It’s kind of inspiring watching them tickle the ivories and put words on a page. I see their tongues out just a little as they are thinking hard about what word should come next. They aren’t slowed down second guessing themselves and tempted by a delete key because there is none. Typewriters force a commitment to your gut. Sometimes they sit for only a few minutes; other times, I hear the clickity clacks for many, many minutes as some novel is underway.

Watching and hearing them has made me think that I haven’t done it enough myself lately. When I create a space to think deeply, I write. Writing is like that for me; the given result of putting my to-do lists aside and creating a pocket of time and energy to intentionally consider things. Sometimes I share the words here; sometimes I don’t. Regardless, when I’m not writing at all whether in my messy spiral notebook or on this place online, it’s not typically an issue of writer’s block; it’s more like a thinking block. And, that’s much more serious of a block.

I could make some sort of personal commitments—spend 10 minutes a day writing nonstop or find a writing partner or commit to posting however many blog posts a week…But, I don’t think I will. Instead, I’m just going to simply commit to some daily thinking because if I commit to thinking more, the writing will result and I have a feeling my heart will feel much more content. Not sure how that’s going to happen; I can just picture my response to the children as they ask me to play Uno…again… “I will in a little while. Right now, I’m thinking.”

However it happens and whatever it ends up looking like, I think I’ll stick with my Macbook. I don’t think this overthinker is ready to surrender the delete key just yet.