A Pattern of Words

Getting permission to pick cherries from the neighbor’s tree when it fruits is a highly sought after privilege all fruit-loving neighbors in the know desire.

Don’t try to talk to RC any time before 9am or you’ll get a muddled, confused, half-asleep eye-rub in response.

We thought maybe Vuko good ol’ Element had finally reached it’s limit, but it turns out it was a simple fix. It caused some midweek excitement, though, with having to call a tow truck and sharing a car for a few days.

Here’s to the four firecrackers who call me “Mama.” Is it even a real photo if one child’s face isn’t red from crying, another’s scratched from a sibling fight, and a third is a week away from a brief concussion? At least P had his oldest sibling a-game going.

Successful strawberry hunt joy.

And just like that (“that” meaning many classes and meetings and a three day retreat), our firstborns have received their First Communion! They wore robes during the actual mass, but both cleaned up quite nicely and gosh when did they get so big?

He got me a birthday gift without realizing how much work would go into installing it.

Summer means slowing down our mornings, focusing on a little bit of math and reading and then trying to encourage everyone to go find a project or game to work on. We’re still very much in the “but I don’t know what to DO” phase of May.

Neighborhood friends are the best friends. I’m finding such joy in seeing how the different combinations of friendships play out this year. You never know which kids will run off together, spending hours carefully sharing afternoon tea or spinning on swings or naming every single unicorn in the house and building them their own palace. The next day, it’s two totally different kids teaching each other how to play chess or racing down the sidewalk on bikes. The only consistent theme is how often they pop their around the corner begging for snacks.

When the neighborhood weirdos walk by your house after dinner.