hello summer

happy solstice.
the beginning of summer.
playallday time of year.
swim. homemade popsicles. sleep late.
and maybe some multiplication drills thrown in for good measure.

bring it.

mary would be proud

making my favorite cookies
that my gram used to make when I was a kid.
ting-a-lings: little mounds of melted chocolate and cornflakes...
cooled on wax paper and devoured in yummy, crunchy mouthfuls.

18 oz. semi-sweet milk chocolate. 5 cups cornflakes. pinch (or more) of salt.
1 cup chopped nuts (i left these out and added an extra cup of cornflakes).
melt chocolate in a pyrex bowl (double boiler or microwave).
mix salt with chocolate. add cornflakes and stir.
drop on waxed paper and let air dry.
devour.

truth

this morning was awful.
defiance from the moment he opened his eyes.
and then, as i signed him in (late) for school,
he runs back down the hallways towards me
and throws his arms around me,
kisses my cheek, and tells me to have a good day.

i am in trouble when he is a teenager.

unlikely places

and above all, watch with
glittering eyes the whole
world around you because the
greatest secrets are always
hidden in the most unlikely
places. those who don’t
believe in magic will never
find it.
 -Roald Dahl

almost 8

these days, i try and scoop him up as much as he will allow
because soon, he will be too heavy.
and too cool.


one month from today, he will begin his eighth year.
jeez louise...slow it down.

how summer rolls

summer is about saying yes 
when friends invite you to grab midday nosh 
and ride around the harbor. 

i want to be seven, too.

mama, do you want to play bear-ninja-cowboy?
it's just like rock-paper-scissors...

flying

i stop half a block down the street from the school.
i've agreed to let the chop walk up to the corner and
cross with the crossing guard, mr. christopher, all by himself.
i move to hug him after his backpack is on and his mandolin case is secure.

mama...
he whispers, looking around.
people are looking...

this kid.
this amazing boy.

i am so proud and heartbroken at the same time.

seven

this boy,
at the beginning of each day,
puts both hands on my face and
kisses my cheek.
"good morning," he whispers.
wrapping his arms around my neck,
he hugs me hard.

this boy.
full of intensity
and loudness.
he feels deeply and thoughtfully,
his heart swells with and is sometimes crushed,
wanting to be understood and heard
in a world of big people and knowledge.

he loves
his mama and papa,
his family,
his dog,
his legos and stuffies.

he is a rockstar.
an artist.
the world's best snuggler.
and egg cracker.

sweet boy, i don't know how i ever came to deserve you.
you have saved me from giving up on this crazy world
and have filled my heart like i never though possible.

proud? that doesn't even begin to cover it.

happy birthday, sweet baby chop.
you are going to rock seven. i have no doubt.

the wait

it happens every year.
we are teased by the warm weather
and the last traces of snow in shady crevices.
we run fast and feel the breath of spring
on these sunny, breezy days.
shedding our jackets,
and letting the air touch our skin seems like magic.
longer days promise more time for bike riding,
ball playing, playground meet ups, and meals eaten on blankets.

welcome spring.
we have been waiting for you.

goodbye kiss

mama, i want to put my oscar hat on so i'll have braids, too.

that's sweet, baby. that will make a good picture.

i love you, mama.

and i love you.

*pause.*

you know, it's ok if you don't want to kiss me goodbye
when i take you to school.
i know it's because you don't want the older kids to think
you're a baby.

that's not true.

*picking him up to stage the shot.*

ok. it is true. 

*click*



"and in the end,
we were all just humans...
drunk on the idea that love,
only love,
could heal our brokenness."
-f. scott fitzgerald

big boy now

wait! come back! 

may i have a kiss?

(we were running late and

rushing to the front door of the school.)

you can have a hug mama.

no kiss?

*insert sad mama-face here*

it will be ok mama.

(big hug. then he smiled and ran inside.)

he is taking off. 

growing up.

becoming independent.

my broken mama-bear-heart couldn't be more proud.

evah flesruoy a yrrem elttil samtsirhc

the last two days have been so stellar.
i have nothing to say and everything to say.
so if you want to hear about it, call me.
or not.
just roll around in these images and then go.
go find some magic in your incredible day.
or night.

peace out.
(until tomorrow).

date night

baked chicken eaten with our bare hands.
advent calendar chocolate for dessert.
hot toddy for mama.
and tomorrow?
we're hoping for another snow day.

saturday

pancakes.
mandolins.
gingerbread and icing.
and horse feathers.

what a full day it has been.

this

is what i've got today.
no words
trying to be clever
or funny.
just this.
and i am happy with it.

real world fun

i left work and rushed to get to the chop's school.

"c'mon baby. grab your things, let's hurry!

i want to see the lighting of the monument tonight!"

but, mama, i want to go home and play on the computer.

wait. what?

"there is REAL fun to be had.

there's a real live world out there, 

with fireworks,

and cotton candy,

and singers,

and thousands of christmas lights!

much more fun than the fake world of a

game on the computer..."

i don't want to go.

can't we do it next day?

"it is only tonight.

and only once a year.

and did i mention pizza?"

no. i don't want to go.

"i do. i really want to go."

*sigh*

i wanted to say, "LET'S LIVE!"

i wanted to tell him that tomorrow isn't promised.

that we need to get out and breathe the fresh air.

that life is short so we should enjoy the loveliness of a 

rare, warm, december night.

that we should eat cinnamon pastry and drink chocolate milk for dinner

and take in the magic of this city of charm.

but i didn't. 

because he is only six, after all.

ok. i'll go because you really want to. 

but i want to play a game when we get home.

we walked the whole way there.

and there may have even been one or three christmas songs sung along the way.

"mama, look! i'm a newspaper box!"

and it was worth the wait.

and a beautiful night for a walk (almost) home.

last view before we hopped in to a taxi cab.

all i want for christmas

nothing puts you in the holiday spirit
like a christmas concert.
especially when small children are performing
in front of an audience of elders.
so sweet, it was.

i am officially in caroling mode.

the man in red

he is real.
so very real.
and his heart is as big as the north pole itself.

how about you

mama, do you believe in santa?

i do, yes.

zahari, in my class, she said that santa isn't real.

what do you think?

i believe, mama. i really do.