splendid

as our oldest celebrates turning 14, words fail me. he's so grown in so many ways and such a naive boy in others. it's heart breaking in all the good ways.

i look at him and wonder. what will become of this boy? will he continue to be wooed by the call of the wild that is the world of science? i can't imagine anything else for him.

and i wonder about love. he brushes that off with a "what makes you think i'll ever marry?" then he'll let me in on names he's read in books. names that he might just set aside for his children someday.

i read something recently. 

"As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back."

and it made me think of this face and these eyes and this life. and it made me glad because this boy is just at the beginning of what is sure to be a life of happiness mingled with sorrow, but happy never the less. and so, so great with hope.

happiest of birthdays to our dear boy of 14. he's splendid!

xo,

gf

great expectations

one of the things i find most important in raising children is setting their expectations. take that proverbial bar and raise it-high, baby.

we've never been ones to shower our children with stuff. it's costly to their hearts and to our wallets. but when it comes to experiences, well. those are priceless. 

so this weekend we decided to head over to the eastern shore. have you ever been? ridiculous. ridiculous. especially to a water seeker girl like me. 

so you have the atlantic ocean on one side. and when you tire of the salt water, all you have to do it walk across the street to wade out in the chesapeake bay. one side is covered in tan sand. the other side, in the loveliest bunch of pebbles. and the entire time i was literally jumping up and down like a giddy school girl. 

since moving to maryland, we've visited the eastern shore only 4 times. i still can't get over the gluttonous feeling i experience with each visit. so much beauty i cannot fully digest it. but i want more and more. 

and then there were those wild horses that walked by our car. but then we saw a pack out in the bog so we rolled up our pants legs and traipsed to get a closer look. along the way, i found a deer antler. my heart was so full, brimming, with gratitude for this moment. 

my boys saw their parents, in the midst of packing boxes and pinching pennies, plan a cheap retreat to the water. the entire time i kept thinking, adventure waits for no one. and this adventure was so worth the inconvenience. 

right now we are in the throes of moving our family of 6 plus 2 dogs across the country. the Mister is covered up in work. we are renovating our kitchen. but if we wait for the perfect time, well, in our case, we may have missed this opportunity to drive over the expansive chesapeake bay bridge{as i hyperventilated}one last time.

we may have missed seeing our boys get within arms reach of a wild assateague horse. we may have missed seeing our 10 year gleefully pick up a horseshoe crab. or watch as the bald eagles flew over our heads. over.our.heads.

friends, please don't postpone spontaniety for planning. don't wait for the perfect time. maybe the perfect time is now. 

just my 2 cents.

xo,

gf

potty talk

we were riding around with all of the windows down. the boys were shouting over the wind. it was 4 against 1. like most times. i was laughing so hard it was difficult for them to distinguish if i was feigning approval or disapproval. but there i was-in a conversation defending myself. 

i called back to them through the sounds of air and radio, "it's more polite to say, 'i need to go to the men's room than to say, 'i need to go take a whiz'." 

then i stopped and had one of those out of body-looking-down-at-myself-moments. who have i become? did i really just say that? for a split second i thought, "if he continues saying such nonsense, it will be an eternity before he has a girl interested in him. it made me almost want to say, "keep it up, buddy."

then another voice chimed in, "why do people say, 'i need to use the john'?" i don't know. 

a truck load of port-a-potties drove by eliciting much snickering. even more curious speculation ensued.

"how about, 'i need to take a leak'?" who has raised you, boy? where have you heard such a thing? and i wondered to myself. 

if you had told me that someday i would be driving around with 4 little boys explaining proper bathroom vernacular, i would not have believed you. not for one second. but here i am. and that is what motherhood is. 

being in a place you never thought. saying things you never thought. 

it's harder than you thought. {c}ruder than you thought. more real than you would ever wish. and more rewarding than you could possibly imagine, hope or dream.

so here's to all you mothers. the ones with children and the ones whose children are yet to be realized. the mothers who have raised their own. the mothers who have raised another's. the friends who have loved like mothers. the mothers who are still waiting. 

keep shouting loving reminders. keep laughing so hard you can hardly speak. keep surprising yourself. and like i say to my closest mommy friends, keep it classy-potty mouth and all.

xo,

gf

pursuing happy

i woke restless, tired. as if i had never actually slept. i was feeling rather discontent. it was 6am and i was already snippy. then i read, "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." 

and i looked around. nothing kicks up the dust of discontentment quite like a move. so much stuff to barter with your time, your gaze, your care. and why?

it reminded me of a documentary i recently watched aptly titled, happy. 

according to the 75 minute indie film, our circumstances dictate 10% of our overall happiness. let that sink in. 

that means we have 90% to play with. that means just because we are not living where we wish, with whom we wish, with what we want, doesn't mean we cannot pursue happy. 

circumstances aside, why are not more of us happy? and by us i am talking about anyone who is reading this, but in particular americans as we are the most discontented people group on the planet. 

when it comes to happiness, genetics does play a role. a small role so let's not get hung up there. 

and then there are all those things, treasures we seek. and long hours working to buy those things. have you ever stopped to wonder if working hard to buy things is like the tail wagging the dog? 

let me break it down for you. stuff not only takes away our happy{when we are convinced that apart from stuff, we will never be fulfilled}, the time we spend earning the money to buy more stuff is time we aren't spending doing things worthwhile like laughing with our children or reading a novel just to name a few.

as americans our wages have greatly increased over the past 50 years{as has inflation}whilst our contentment has flat lined. 

and our consumer debt has increased-to harrowing proportions. which makes us work more to pay off said debt. is it just me or are you feeling dizzy from the tail chasing?

according to the documentary, the cultures who are more prone to live longer, more fulfilling lives do not live in disney, and they do not have 401ks. and many do not even have indoor plumbing. 

in fact in one man's story, he left corporate europe to change bed pans in calcutta. he once lived an expensive, pursuant life. now he finds deep joy in caring for the discarded. this both frees me and scares me. why? 

because i am forced to change what i was always led to believe. that working hard=money and money=happiness. and yet, there is a still quiet voice that knows. like capital "K" knows.

and you know what, i bet you know too. i bet nothing i am writing here today is not something you don't already know in the deep quiet of your own heart. 

so what is keeping you and me from listening to that still quiet voice that is reminding us that happiness is not found solely in accumulation, but in the adoration of what is all around us. life. people. nature. the simpler, the better.

yours in the pursuit,

gf

changing of the guards

i'm not saying it's impossible to homeschool 4 kids, keep 2 dogs occupied, pack a house, help oversee a small renovation project 800 miles away, maintain the boys' schedules and appointments and continue to make 3 wholesome meals a day, but holy panda-it's challenging. 

last night we were finishing dinner when i noticed the two little boys take charge with the dishes. clearing the table and washing them up. this is the chore that is usually led by the oldest two with their side kicks. but last night whilst the 12 year old rested from an orthodontist appointment and the 13 year was m.i.a., the 10 and 6 year old silently took the helm.

the Mister commented, "yep. we've started having team a and team b. but usually there is an older boy with a younger to balance." i reflected, "with jack going off to school next year, i'll also have to teach these monkeys how to do laundry."

you see next year our 13, almost 14 year old will officially be leaving homeschool for high school. he's been accepted into a rigorous science program that will be challenging for this boy who quite literally sees the world through scientific lenses.

accompanying him will be the 12 year old who will also be attending school next year. his choice, like his brother. mama chose an all boys school for this very social lad who has more friends of the feminine persuasion. it's not that i have anything against girls. it's just that i see a storm brewing on the horizon. a storm called puberty. and when it makes landfall, i want this boy to be shored up with a little separation while he figures a few things out. 

and while these two older boys are out and about, the younger two will continue their steep in the cup of homeschool. savoring their stories and writings and quips along the way, will be me, their mother and their schoolmarm. 

in a few short weeks we'll be back in our little cottage, living in our eclectic neighborhood, missing our friends from the mid atlantic, catching up with the friends we left 4 years ago and getting ready for a changing of the guards as two leave two to take their place.

it's good. it's hard. it's scary. but mostly it's exciting.

xo,

gf

the beginning of the end

this weekend we began the arduous task of saying goodbye. we had a few lasts that made my heart ache. 

on friday we gathered with our little homeschool tutorial to bid adieu. it was bittersweet. to think we may never see some of these sweet faces again. goodness it makes me sad. but grateful for email and instagram and facebook and blogging. the internet really makes the world seem a great deal smaller. 

on saturday morn we met up with our sweet friends the hanns and their very darling boy, bowman for a jaunt around the arboreum. have you ever been? quite spectacular. we have lived here 4 years and were kicking ourselves for never coming til now. and on this clear, bright, very breezy day-the sights were even lovelier. 

but then we were reminded that it was lunch time so we loaded up and drove over to union market. and even though a security guard chided me with a "kids aren't allowed to play here"{welcome to DC}, we had the most delightful time chatting and lunching at a little place that has the best name, red apron. their grilled cheese wasn't too shabby especially when pared with a gin and tonic that just happened to be on tap{what?}

the mister took the boys out on sunday afternoon for one last ride down that infamous wooden slide. and late in the afternoon as the sun was peaking over the appalachian trail, the oldest penned his name to an acceptance letter of sorts. more on that later. 

what a weekend wrought with much emotion. but my boys are always willing to cut the tension with their comedic timing and uncensored boyspeak. to which the oldest aptly observed, "we are not your typical homeschool family". indeed. and how was your weekend?

xo,

gf