Hearts and hands full October 18, 2015

Today is a crisp, cold Autumn day. The idea of a warm cup of tea and a good book appeals to me more than following through on a promise, but my children have elephant memories and alligator tears. I admit to being slightly disgruntled as we bundle into sweatshirts and rubber boots. “Mama, I needs a snack,” says the wee one, and I hustle up yogurt raisins and 2 chocolate cookies for each boy. ‘Mama needs that cup tea,’ I am thinking.
Too many moments later, our family of four is strapped in to the car and heading for the wooded trail that circles the lake. The car window is open a crack and the sound of a cold wind in the trees whistles by my ear. The smell of wood burning and Pumpkin Spice tea tickles my nose. It is the sound and smell of Fall.

I lower the passenger mirror, that less than a decade ago I used to touch up my make-up on our way to a dinner party. Now, I use it to spy on the munchkins in the backseat. They are both looking out the windows, watching brightly costumed trees sway in the wind that whips across the lake. The older one, already 7, draws his brother’s attention toward something across the water. “Mama,” says the wee one, the baby sound in his voice growing more distant with each week in pre-school, “all dose colors is so bee-u-ti-ful.” He smiles at me in the mirror, knowing that I am watching him as he watches the scenery.

I glance at his brother, who grins also, displaying a large gap where one front tooth is missing. Freckles, a remnant from warm summer days, scatter across his nose and the wind slips in through the barely open window, ruffling the strawberry blond hair that falls on his forehead.

I shift my gaze from the backseat to my own reflection. A few wrinkles have wound their way around the edges, but my eyes still sparkle and smile. There is still silliness, and sexiness, and mystery within. Sometimes I wonder if this life we have built is real – it is too sweet, and painful, and full of love to truly be.

He parks the car outside a chainlink fence where a gravelled path winds its way into the woods. The colors and the sun are so bright here. We both get out. There is a moment, so very brief, where it is just him and I, the wind and the trees, and we catch each others eye. The corner of my mouth turns up slightly and his eyes twinkle. It is the closest thing we have to a Caribbean cruise for two. The muffled sound of the boys calling for me makes its way out of the window crack and we disembark and return to land. We each help a boy out of his seat and make sure coats are zipped and hats are on.

In one palm is a steaming cup of spiced tea, in the other a small hand. And it feels so good to have hands and a heart that are full. We carefully make our way around the fence, despite signs that insist we shouldn’t, using a well worn path in the grass. Once on the other side, the boys take off as if the wind that ruffles the leaves has lifted their wings. And hubby and I are alone, sort of. Wild boys bark and bay at a distance. And together, the four of us, we wander this trail with hearts and hand full.

Roommates July 27, 2015

 Have I never told you about the three dudes I live with? They are the greatest guys. No, seriously, the greatest. So funny, and sweet, and silly. I have something to laugh about everyday. 

 

If friends taught me anything, it was how to be a good rommate.

 
Just this morning, my newest roommate was rushing to get to the bathroom on time after a bit of a bender with the apple juice (lightweight!). He rounded the corner, almost there, but due to the sugar high, he fumbled with his elastic waist shorts and ended up peeing all over himself and the floor! Hilarious! He tried to help clean up, but with limited hand-eye coordination and urine soaked socks, he was widening the puddle more than soaking it up. 

And my other roommate… We’ve lived together for almost 7 years. We’ve had some good times. I mean, it was hard at first. Really bumpy. A lot of tears and miscommunication, but now we cohabitate quite successfully. Most of the time he just ignores me. Yup, sometimes I say his name four or five times and he doesn’t even move. No outer signal that he’s completely hearing abled. This works out great when I want to have some friends over for a really, loud, off-the-hook book club or a wild, ripper of a candle party. Strangely though, he can always hear me opening a bag of potato chips or unwrapping an ice cream sandwich.

My third roommate and I have known each other forever. I don’t know – sometimes I think we take each other for granted. It’s hard to remember what life was like before we lived together. What’s it been??? Twelve or thirteen years? We’ve had a lot of fun together. I mean, he helped me find my two other roomates, so you know he’s a good guy. But a bit of a slob. He boasts that he can go almost a month without doing any of his laundry and I often have to write him lists in order for him to remember to take out the laundry or vacuum the stairs. And we clearly operate with different internal clocks, because I do things as quickly as possible and he likes to meditate on the task for a good, long time before completing it. Still, he’s not bad to look at, gives a good hug when I’m sad and had a dozen, pink roses waiting for me when we last celebrated the anniversary of our official move-in day.

It’s not all roses and sunshine though. Living with three dudes can be tough. I am forever falling into a toilet bowl in the middle of the night because someone left the lid up. I am constantly filling the cupboards because these three eat all day long and no one volunteers to do the shopping. Going it alone as the only girl in the house is lonely at times.

So I try to practice being grateful for having roommates. Thankful for dirt, grime, clutter, stubble in the sink and dinky cars strewn around like landmines. Appreciative for joyful conversations with mouths full of food. For quiet nights at home together making pizza and watching movies (although sometimes their tastes in film are exhausting…I mean the Lego Movie was good but 17 times?!?!?). Thankful for underwear on the counter (that was during the early days with my first roommate). Contented that I have been blessed to share my life with these three dudes… even as I sit with my butt dangling in the toilet bowl.