anselm turns one

We celebrated Anselm’s first birthday during a trip to Florida earlier last month. I headed down while Jeremy was busy chaperoning a school trip since the trip would mean he would be out of down for this milestone birthday. I wanted to be able to celebrate his day with family.

On his birthday proper we had a picnic in a park, but a few days later (after Jeremy was able to join us) we had a real party with all the good stuff, like cake and frisbees and cake and playgrounds and cake and family. And cake.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Son.

many meetings

We all got to know each other a little bit, today.

The big boys have, of course, met Anselm, but he’s not really been awake enough to meet them back.

Clearly it was an eye-opening experience.

It’s so interesting to see the different approaches that the big brothers take. Clive is very excited about him, but once he realizes Mama will not let him poke the baby’s eyes or smack him on the head, he loses interest quickly.

Ephraim is much gentler (having already had one baby’s eyes to poke and therefore having lost the novelty somewhat). He is obsessed with “smelling” the baby. He says he smells good. Seeing as Anselm still has his umbilical cord stub attached and thusly hasn’t had a proper bath, I am not really sure I agree. To each his own, I guess.

It is exciting to me to see the camaraderie blossoming between the three of them. And–until Anselm is old enough to give back as much as he’ll no doubt get from his older brothers–a little alarming, too.

Don’t worry, buddy: they love you already.

on mother’s day

Mother’s Day is a funny thing. If you’re a mom, it’s about you–but it’s also about everyone who makes you you. It’s about your mom, your grandmothers, your sisters and sisters-in-law, your mother-in-law and her mother and her mother-in-law, your husband and your kids, your friends and their husbands and their kids. I could go on.

I feel, sometimes, the invisible web of relationship and heritage and legacy is so thick and tightly woven and astonishingly beautiful that when you try to single out one thread to raise it and celebrate it, you unavoidably must raise all the attached threads along with it. I think it should be that way.

As a mom myself, I have spent the past few days thinking (even more than usual) about these people who have brought me to this stage in my life. In case the first paragraph wasn’t entirely clear, that means I have been thinking about everybody.

With three people in particular:

Because I owe them an awful lot for their contribution.

Happy Mother’s Day to you and to me, and to your mom and her mom and so on and so forth–Happy Everyone Day to Everyone and for Everyone.
🙂

a woodsy walk, v. 4.21.13 :: {personal}

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and we had just spent the last couple of hours listening to Elder Muse chatter through his nap.

“We should go somewhere,” I said.
So we did; I packed a dinner for the kids, and we went someplace we haven’t been in a while.

We knew this place seven years ago, when we first moved to the city, and had friends that worked in the complex. Back then, this little spot was not much, and the building that now houses the coffee shop was, as I recall, abandoned and about to be condemned.

Thankfully, someone had a better plan for it.

While the grills, pool, and outdoor fireplace are for residents of the community, the coffee shop is open to the public; visiting affords you the right to meander the breathtaking grounds. Trees, flowers, ferns, rock cliffs, winding paths and the Chattahoochee.

“This could be our backyard,” I say. He agrees, and we both start dreaming. That’s the one big part of our house that we’ve not quite begun work on, yet. We don’t have a river, but we do have a creek.

We all slept better for our excursion, last night.

the m family :: {hello, legacy}

lindsey :: {hello, life}

Not long ago, while walking the trail at a local national park, we came upon the perfect little glen filled with long, yellow weeds grass that was just breathtaking in its golden serenity.

I knew right then that I needed to take someone’s picture there–preferably in an ornate antique chair–and, thankfully, Lindsey was willing to take me up on that offer!

Of course, I then reflected that it was sort of a walk to get there. Or a trek, really.

“How long of a walk?” I was asked.

“Oh…not long.” It had only taken a few minutes for us to get there, ourselves…or was it fifteen? I couldn’t remember. Thirty? But we were walking with a toddler…and I was taking pictures along the way…surely it couldn’t take that long!

Fortunately, a week or so later, I found a spot nearly identical to my little glen at another part of the park, only this time it was right across the street from a parking lot. This is a very good thing, since it meant I didn’t have to carry the big, ornate, antique chair for forty-five minutes (I really can’t remember how far it was) and I wouldn’t be responsible for sending my friend into pre-term labor by dragging her out to some remote place for pictures.

Unfortunately, Lindsey is such a breathtakingly beautiful pregnant lady that it has been extremely difficult to choose which pictures I would share here on my blog (because I for sure can’t post all 150-or-so that I liked, right?) But here are my very favoritest favorites. 🙂

Enjoy!

a woodsy walk, v. 2013

We recently went for a stroll at a local national park with some friends and their children. I thought it a great opportunity to exercise the new fisheye lens, so the camera came along.

Elder Muse was very happy to be “OW-SIIIDE”, but poor Little Muse was not happy that his place in the Moby meant he got camera in the face every time Mama took a picture. Which was…kind of a lot.

He ended up hanging out with Daddy instead.

There was lots of walking and lots to see. Here are some of my favorite moments. Special thanks to the M family for letting me get all up in your faces with the fisheye, and for getting some shots of us as well. 🙂

rocking chair, fishy.

The biggest surprise of my Christmas morning was the fisheye lens waiting for me under the tree. It’s been great fun practicing with it over the past few days.

There was a kitty in this chair when I went to take the picture, but she quickly hustled out of the way when she saw the camera coming.

Somewhere there exists a picture of my infant father sitting in this chair. I believe it was painted red at the time, though. Other than its history, I believe my favorite thing about this little rocking chair is the slightly cockeyed ladder back. There’s a story there, I’ll wager.