The calendar runneth over
We have spent our October doing our very favoritest things. The weather has been classic Virginia. Starting off all-out summer, then practically overnight changing to fall. Lo and behold, a great many of the leaves are brilliant red and yellow, making for some breathtaking drives through the woods. Frigid in the mornings, comfortably warm in the afternoons, and a bit chilly in the evenings. Picture perfect.
Brandon started things off with a bang by traveling up to Charlottesville and scoring some quality actual face time with one of his heroes, Tony Bennett. Like a kid at Christmas he's been, throwing random Tonyisms out in mid-conversation and talking about him like they are best buddies. It's cute, but from an integrity standpoint and a faith standpoint and a cough-looks-cough standpoint, um, my man couldn't have found himself a better role model.
We hiked a new trail in the state park. It was still warm out, but we apparently forgot about earlier sunset, that last mile a bit slower through the tree-covered darkness of dusk. Beautiful sights, clean air, the absence of sky vanquishing sibling rivalry, even for just a few hours. It's a magnificent thing.
Some friends hosted a huge fall gathering at their farm, so many families from church coming together for fellowship. It's hard for our clan to do this much anymore, as there are so many of us. But it was so very nice, dozens of crock pots full of soup, women scurrying around the kitchen, kids running amok everywhere, apple cider, men sitting around talking, and even a hayride through the mud.
The boys had been begging to go back to my workplace, and it just so happened that fall break weekend for the college students fit right into our calendar. Along my weekday strolls that help refresh my eyes from screen lock and up my step count, I've been eyeing out spots that might be nice for the grandparents' Christmas-gift pics. I've said before how I take for granted my surroundings at work, and it's never clearer than when I see it through the eyes of my children.
If there is any luster about Halloween, it has worn off with the little-boy cuteness of Trey and Aden. It's just not worth it anymore, even for the tiny Hershey bars I would sneak out of the boys' plastic pumpkins. So when they each voted against dressing up this year, my heart practically melted with the idea of the four of us huddled in the basement on Halloween night, upstairs lights all cut off, just being together.
It wouldn't be a full boycott, however. Not only did we snuggle up together to watch Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin, but both boys asked to get pumpkins. We did so, with them ardently insisting that they would be degooping and carving their own. In the end, Trey decided to keep his pumpkin intact for a Thanksgiving activity we have planned. That left Aden and Dad hacking away at the biggest pumpkin Aden could find.
The cool evening air has been perfect for trampoline-jumping and sunset-watching. My bouncing baby boys silhouetted against orange and purple sky striped by pink clouds. They love to jump, and for whatever reason, they want me standing right there. So I ooh and aah over their impressive air. Gasp, usually involuntarily, when they get a bit close to the edge. They eat it up. And so do I.
I'm trying ever so hard to remember this, to stamp this on my memory of this phase of life and motherhood. So much of what I see of them day in and day out is the backs of their heads, in their rooms at their desks, staring at a monitor and shouting into a microphone. But this - watching them enjoy each other, wrestle and bounce, breathe the fall air and roll in the leaves - it just doesn't get much better.
Happy fall, y'all.
Brandon started things off with a bang by traveling up to Charlottesville and scoring some quality actual face time with one of his heroes, Tony Bennett. Like a kid at Christmas he's been, throwing random Tonyisms out in mid-conversation and talking about him like they are best buddies. It's cute, but from an integrity standpoint and a faith standpoint and a cough-looks-cough standpoint, um, my man couldn't have found himself a better role model.
We hiked a new trail in the state park. It was still warm out, but we apparently forgot about earlier sunset, that last mile a bit slower through the tree-covered darkness of dusk. Beautiful sights, clean air, the absence of sky vanquishing sibling rivalry, even for just a few hours. It's a magnificent thing.
Some friends hosted a huge fall gathering at their farm, so many families from church coming together for fellowship. It's hard for our clan to do this much anymore, as there are so many of us. But it was so very nice, dozens of crock pots full of soup, women scurrying around the kitchen, kids running amok everywhere, apple cider, men sitting around talking, and even a hayride through the mud.
The boys had been begging to go back to my workplace, and it just so happened that fall break weekend for the college students fit right into our calendar. Along my weekday strolls that help refresh my eyes from screen lock and up my step count, I've been eyeing out spots that might be nice for the grandparents' Christmas-gift pics. I've said before how I take for granted my surroundings at work, and it's never clearer than when I see it through the eyes of my children.
If there is any luster about Halloween, it has worn off with the little-boy cuteness of Trey and Aden. It's just not worth it anymore, even for the tiny Hershey bars I would sneak out of the boys' plastic pumpkins. So when they each voted against dressing up this year, my heart practically melted with the idea of the four of us huddled in the basement on Halloween night, upstairs lights all cut off, just being together.
It wouldn't be a full boycott, however. Not only did we snuggle up together to watch Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin, but both boys asked to get pumpkins. We did so, with them ardently insisting that they would be degooping and carving their own. In the end, Trey decided to keep his pumpkin intact for a Thanksgiving activity we have planned. That left Aden and Dad hacking away at the biggest pumpkin Aden could find.
The cool evening air has been perfect for trampoline-jumping and sunset-watching. My bouncing baby boys silhouetted against orange and purple sky striped by pink clouds. They love to jump, and for whatever reason, they want me standing right there. So I ooh and aah over their impressive air. Gasp, usually involuntarily, when they get a bit close to the edge. They eat it up. And so do I.
I'm trying ever so hard to remember this, to stamp this on my memory of this phase of life and motherhood. So much of what I see of them day in and day out is the backs of their heads, in their rooms at their desks, staring at a monitor and shouting into a microphone. But this - watching them enjoy each other, wrestle and bounce, breathe the fall air and roll in the leaves - it just doesn't get much better.
Happy fall, y'all.
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