Bits of Sunshine

enjoy the things today

days before maddie's fifth birthday, i found her crying.  of course i asked her why she was sad.  she told me that she didn't want another age.  she just wanted to stay her four age.  why?, i asked again.  because, she told me, you like me little.  you always like when you can hold me and read to me and wrap me up in a blanket and i am little.  i don't want a big age.  i don't want to be big. 

i was so taken aback.  what had i been portraying to my girl?  oh, my heart hurt.  i kneeled next to her and hugged her and told her that yes, she had been a wonderful baby.  i have so many good memories of holding her for hours and hours, of bundling her into the front pack for walks, of all the funny toddler things she did, of all the sweet little moments.  but!  i told her, you are going to learn so many more cool things as you get older!  you'll learn to read, you'll learn to ride a bike, you'll help me do more and more big person things, and you'll teach isaac stuff as he grows older.  then you'll get old enough to drive a car, and have a job.  you'll grow old enough to have your own house, and then you can invite me over for lunch!  we are just going to keep doing more and more cool things as you grow older, as you have new ages.  i am going to just keep loving you so much every age that you are. 

she was so relieved.  and over the next few days, she became excited for her birthday. 

i have thought of this off and on, over the years. i want to make sure that my kids know that i like them right now, for who they are and what they can do and what they are learning right now. 

i am reminded of this again this morning.  i need to, and i want to

enjoy the things my kids can do today

and to let them know this, that i enjoy them today.  right now.  to give them permission to enjoy what they are doing right now.  whether what they are doing is learning a new concept or skill, whether it is telling a joke or creating a piece of art, whether it is snuggling into the coziest blanket for a rest, whether it is completing a job, whether it is making a purchase with money that they have earned, whether it is giving a gift, whether it is just being still.  that everything doesn't have to be about what they are going to do, later, down the road.  yes, we talk about the future: college, jobs, that growing-up stuff.  but i need to remember that they need to know that what they do today, right now, is worth something today.  it is worth enjoying sports practice today, because they worked hard today.  it is worth being proud of the C or the B or the A that they earned today, because it is what they earned today.  it is worth feeling heart-full when they laugh with a friend today, because there is joy in this moment.  it is worth hugging mom or dad or friend tight and long because of what that person means today, right now, in this moment. 

friends, do this for your kids.  do this for your spouse.  do this for your best friend.  remind them that they have permission to

enjoy the things that they can do today

friends, do this for yourselves.  give yourself permission to

enjoy the things that you can do today

the things don't have to be perfect, they don't have to make a huge impact on the world.  your peace and joy, when you enjoy the things you can do today, will have a far greater impact on the people in your life {and will ripple outward}, than a stress-filled, perfect execution of too many tasks and obligations taken on.  we need to give our own minds and the minds of those we love and interact with grace and space for right now, for this moment. 

i know i say this often, friends, but it is always my wish for each of you: go gently, love fiercely, and be wonderful.  love, e

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things that prompted this post:

september is suicide prevention awareness month - the phone number - 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

this video, made in memory of a personable 16-year-old boy who committed suicide in december 2017

conversations about jason hairston

this article and this one about a vibrant 17-year-old girl who committed suicide in march 2018

this song and this song and this song and this song and this song 

{gratitudes right now. and real life}
* coffee - because coffee
* a great water bottle - because hydration, because a fun place to put stickers from friends and places i’ve been, because i had my hydro flask before all the kids figured out they were cool
* honey nut cheerios - because mid-morning snack, because gluten-free, because coconut milk
* glasses - because reading and writing
* bright flowers - because cheery, because ben picked them out, because i arranged them, because they were the birthday decorations for sunday and are still pretty today
* a banana and crumbs and bracelets - because my kids live here
* isaac’s bible - because he can read it, because he does read it, because it is full of good words
* this table - because it had almost a hundred years of stories before our almost-seventeen years of stories
* vitamins, an assortment - because we have an awesome NP and friend who has helped me figure out what we need, because we can fortify and help our bodies through back-to-school and new sports seasons and long work days
* hairspray (yes. on the kitchen counter) - because i did a trial run on hair and makeup for maddie for her upcoming homecoming dance (and we made her look so pretty, and we opted not to fill her eyebrows)
{and outside of the frame}
* potatoes cooking - because potatoes make me feel really good
* isaac’s football pads and cleats on the floor - because he loves having something structured to work hard at
* all my violets in bloom - because they all came from a plant that i gave to my grandma years ago, and because when my violets bloom, it means our house is home

 

my piano

when we moved, back in january, we didn't move our piano.  the temperatures were well below zero all of the days we were moving, and instruments don't do well if they get frozen.  i didn't want to risk the soundboard in my piano.  so, my piano stayed in the government housing in south dakota. 

the house we bought had a piano in it, and in the exhaustion from moving, i toyed with the idea of just keeping the piano that was in the house, and leaving mine where it was.  isaac was adamant that we needed our own piano.  and after living in the house for a bit, i realized that, yes. of course i wanted to have my piano {it was a gift from my mom and dad in 2010}.  i waited until ben had more than one day off in a row with no rain in the forecast.  last sunday afternoon, ben and I took a drive.  and our friend who lives in our old place now helped us load the piano into the bed of the pick up.  we strapped it down and drove on home. 

on monday {labor day, how fitting}, the kids and ben and i moved the piano into our house.  and i have been playing and playing and playing.  i am so very grateful to have my piano here, in our home. 

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photo cred: maddie / @m.elizabeth.p or @lynnie_photography_

saturday at the office :: five little {or not so little} things

i worked my last scheduled saturday for the summer this past weekend.  now, unless there is a fire to dispatch, i'll be heading to volleyball or football games on saturdays.  this saturday, i was the only one in the office - so, I kept the door and windows open and popped in and out and read a bit and moved around in between answering a few phone calls and keeping track of the other people who were working their last saturday for the summer as well. 

a little corner of my desk {because patches, green plants, a picture of my hubby, stuff to drink}

a toad {because sunshine and shadow}

this book {because trees are fascinating, and who knew so many of the ways they have shaped history}

looking down {because my first pair of birkenstocks, and my twenty-year-old wildflower tattoo}

and looking up {because this tower is part of the communications that keep dispatch connected to our people in the field}

 

 

remind them that they are wonderful

children do not need us to shape them.  they need us to respond to who they are.  ~ naomi aldort

you do not have to make your children into wonderful people.  you just have to remind them that they are wonderful people.  if you do this consistently from the day they are born, they will believe it easily.  ~ william martin

both these quotes at once resonated with me and brought just a smidge of discomfort.  
the words met me deep in my being and rang true. 
then why the discomfort? 
because i was raised in a tradition that teaches that parents train and shape and mold their children.  
i read parenting books handed to me by people i trusted that expounded on this training and shaping. 
books that explained that if a child is not fitting a mold, they need discipline. 
that if, upon the carrying out of disciplinary measures there is still not the desired result,
the child must be rebellious, must need a harsher form of discipline,
must need their will to be broken in order to be rightly built. 
there is something to that.  maybe.  in some circumstances. 

but as ben and i have parented together, 
we have read and studied the bible and scholarly writing and parenting books of all sorts,
we have watched others parent, we have watched little ones grow into bigger ones,
and it is so evident that we are all wonderful
and we are all broken.  
that at times, we break each other. 
that life sends all sorts of situations and circumstances and hard things our way try to break us. 
and we as parents should be always in the process of learning our children - each one - learning them,
and learning what breaks them and what builds them, 
and doing our best to give them the tools to do a lot of building. 
building of their own character, building up of others, building good in the world.

i think that what rings so true about the two quotes is that i desire to see the good,
to build, not break. 
that i know beyond a shadow of a doubt
that each of us is fearfully and wonderfully made. 
that there is One who knows a thousand and a thousand times better than i who my children are and are to be.  
my job as their mom takes all of my mind, soul, heart, and strength. 
some days, some moments, it takes all that i have to build them not break them,
not because of who they are, or even what they do, but because of who i am. 
my true job is to love them fiercely,
learn who they are,
point them to the One who made them,
who knit them together inside of me,
who has prepared good works for them each to do,
who lays out the way for each of us to walk in,
my job is to facilitate as they respond to His call and His leading.

if i do these things,
i am responding to who God made each one of them to be,
not who i or anyone else might think they should be.
i am reminding them that they are truly wonderful creations.
and i will affirm these two
and cheer for all i am worth
as they manifest the fruit of the spirit
in the unique and wonderful ways that God has ordained for each of them. 

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references taken from psalm 139:13-16 , ephesians, 2:10, isaiah 30:21, galatians 5:22-23

five things little {or not so little} things

1. repotting plants is therapy {for me and for the plants}

2. playing in the water {and the chance to use two paddleboards} making a summer morning extra summery 

3. tiny fridges worked just fine for seven months 

4. the big fridge {room for more fruit and veggies and milks and orange juice} and all our magnets {trips down memory lane}

5. this fruit and these flowers {one more time, because i love how the light played over them one sunny morning in mid-august} 

 

dirty august

Late Summer by CS Lewis

I, dusty and bedraggled as I am,
pestered with wasps and weeds and making jam,
blowzy and stale, my welcome long outstayed,
proved false in every promise that I made,
at my beginning I believed like you,
something would come of all my green and blue. 
mortals remember, looking on the thing
I am, that I, even I was once a spring.

 

this is the part of summer when i start to feel worn down,
torn over wanting more days of summery weather, days for swimming and basking in the sun;
but also, wanting the hot spell to end, and the weather to be right for sweatshirt wearing and evening campfires and cups of coffee. 
yes.  this year, even i am longing for fall. 
for fire season to be over. 
at this point, fire season may be winding down, but then again, maybe not. 
though the daylight is shorter and the air cooler, there is more dry vegetation, and a spark from equipment or lightning can still set a blaze. 

at this point in august, for us whose lives revolve around fire season,
it feels as though summer and fire weather have long outstayed their welcome. 
especially on a year like this one,
when my wildland firefighter was gone for teaching and taking classes soon after the new year, 
and off on southwestern details (16 days at a time) in march and april and june. 
i am able, through most of the season, to keep an optimistic outlook,
to keep things going at home,
to keep a connection over time and distance with my love. 
and then, it's august. 
dirty august. 
dirty, dirty august. 
and i hit a wall more days than not. 
and i want nothing more than to have fall,
and to have my man home for more than one stolen night here and there,
more than one day crammed full of all of the appointments
and face-to-face talking
and laundry
and shopping for food and supplies for him to take back to the station
and tackling the quick project that i can't do alone. 

the other day it just all felt like too, too much. 
so i got out my calendar and looked, really looked
at how many days ben has been home . . . since march . . .

no wonder i feel all off-balance and strange. 
the official count, today, august 19,
is that ben has been home 37 out of 174 days. 
and i just simply want him home with me. 
i'm beyond stuffing the longing back down. 
there's a poignant turning point of no going back. 
i am certain that we've reached it,
suddenly,
with the counting of days,
with a bit of rain and high humidity recoveries overnight,
grey skies,
and cool, cool breezes. 
there is a foglike smoke in the air the past few days,
so even if the sun would wish to shine bright and hot,
it is smothered by this blanket that blows in from the west. 
and this matches my melancholy. 
i start to wonder how many times ben and i can say "i love you" and "i miss you" . . .
and will those words ever run out of meaning? 
or do they mean more and more every time we say them? 
i don't even know where to start or end telling him
that he has taken over all of my heart,
how everything that i do and say and think and feel is permeated by him,
by who i am because he is part of me,
part of my life,
he has been for so long . . .
eighteen of my thirty-eight years . . .
and i am lost here in august,
because parts of me are away with him,
and it is not nearly often enough that we are together,
that i am together,
that all of our pieces are in one place. 

 

mom's list

we were at my mom and dad's house in early july.  i was cleaning up the kitchen one of the last evenings we were there, and i picked up this scrap of paper.  on it are written little meal plans for the time the kids and i were able to spend with them.  i almost threw it away, and then i didn't.  i stuffed it in my pocket instead.  and now it is in my journal as a reminder of my mom's handwriting, her thoughtfulness, her list-making, her personality, and her love. 

 

a wedding ring story

over seventeen years ago, ben asked me to marry him and he put a diamond on my finger.  at our wedding on November 10, 2001, we exchanged very traditional wedding bands. 

just before our ninth wedding anniversary, we realized that if we sold our platinum wedding bands, we could buy all of the camping gear we wanted.  so, we did.  and we bought ninety-nine dollar black ceramic bands to wear instead.  just simple. 

then we took our kiddos camping on the shore of lake superior and in the north woods and in the southeastern minnesota river valleys.  ben took me to yellowstone and to the tetons.  and we took our kids on a twelve day road trip on which we did most of our sleeping and cooking out of the back of the pick up.  we've camped in campgrounds and on the shore of a reservoir.  we have used that camping gear so much and will continue to use it, over and again.  experiences over things, right?

over the years i thought off and on about having something made with the diamond from my engagement ring; maybe a pendant, something i could wear every day. 

then, about a year ago, i discovered broken pine studio on instagram.  and i began to follow shannon.  and all of her work struck a chord with me.  shortly after i found her account, she hosted a contest / give away, and i won a personalized key chain.  the care she took with the keychain endeared her to me as a person, not just as an artist. 

once i held a piece of shannon's work in my hands, i knew that i wanted her to do something with the diamond ben had given to me.  i looked through her archives.  i found some ideas.  i had conversations back and forth with her.  she invited me to send her my ring and some other stones i had.  she asked to know more of ben's and my story. 

this is what i wrote for her:

The first five years that Ben and I were together (6 months before we got married and then for the first four years of our marriage) we lived near Lake Superior.  We brought both of our babies home up Highway 61 - right along the shore of the big lake.  We spent countless hours walking and sitting, sipping coffee and picnicking, talking and listening, drinking in beauty.  And I found pretty stones and beach glass and tiny agates.  

 

Five years ago, when I was 33, Ben took me to the Tetons.  I had never seen mountains before.  That trip changed my life.  The mountains, the huge, overarching sky, the clear air - all got into my veins and woke something beautiful and visceral inside of me. 

 

Three years ago, we moved out of Minnesota.  We moved west.  To the Little Missouri on the eastern border of Montana.  I spent countless hours resting, breathing, wandering, finding more stones and fossils and beauty by the river and up in the hills and buttes.  Sometimes with Ben, sometimes with my kids, once in a while with a dear friend, and so often just me.  I am so grateful that Ben moved me, moved us, west.  

 

And certainly, the diamond that Ben put on my finger when he asked me to marry him must be in this ring.  Because yes.  And yes.  And yes.  Every day is yes.  

 

I am leaning toward one of the shield rings - with a mountain, and my diamond in the sky. Then maybe one of the other pieces I sent you at the base of the mountains.  Or maybe not?  What do you think?  I want you to do something that works.  The other thing that fits me - always - is wildflowers.  Ben knows I love wild places and wild flowers.  The Tom Petty song, “you belong among the wildflowers; you belong somewhere you feel free” has long been my anthem.  And, without knowing that, Ben told me that song reminded him of me.  So, maybe some of your handcrafted flowers at the base of the mountain?  The other bits I sent are from Lake Superior and the Little Missouri.  I feel like those places are touchstones on Ben’s and my journey.  But I want what you make to work, and to flow easily for you . . . It will be more beautiful if you don’t have to force something, this I know. 

and shannon read my words, and mulled over what she has learned about ben and i over the past year as she and i have begun to grow a friendship, and she created a ring that tells the story of b+e.  she used an agate from lake superior.  she crafted some wildflowers and beautiful stems.  she cut out the tetons.  and she placed the diamond in a starry sky over the mountains.   

when shannon told me she had the ring finished, and sent me the tracking number, i was so excited!  each day the ring was in transit, i had numerous oh my goodness!  i will get to wear it soon! moments.  the day it arrived, i made myself sit and take my time with opening the box, and the brown paper wrapped items within. 

shannon returned the extra stones and the setting from my diamond.  she also included the most wonderful pair of earrings!

and then!  the ring! 

it is everything i had hoped for, and then some.  it is perfect. 

i absolutely love the weight of this ring.  i love the design.  each element tells part of the story of b+e. 
and!  the day it came, ben was in miles city!  he was able to stop by the house, and put the ring on my finger. 

he asked me if i would stay married to him until he dies. 

yes.  of course yes.  always yes. 

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and, if you've stuck with this all the way to the end, here are some pictures that shannon sent me before she mailed the ring, to show me what she had created :

 

thank you

dear friends,

have you ever had someone tell you that they appreciate you, or look up to you, or are proud of you at just the moment you didn't even know how much you needed to hear something encouraging?  when you are tired and worn and feeling like the glass is certainly not half-full, and is, in fact, for this moment, empty.  drained.  dry.  and then, out of the blue, there is a text, or a comment on facebook or instagram, or a message, or a piece of snail mail, telling you that there is someone out there who thinks you are wonderful.  someone you inspire.  someone who sees you walk through the good and the hard and who believes that you will come out of the hard again, and even well.  and that empty glass?  that dry, parched feeling?  those words are cool, fresh water.  and they flood in and over, around and through.  and your heart is bolstered.  and your mind is refreshed.  and your glass is half-full, and full, and even overflowing.  this has happened for me in the past few days.  i have been refreshed by wonderful words from true friends.  thank you.  thank you.  thank you. 

and dear ones, never, ever underestimate the power of your kind words.  if you think of something nice to say to someone, say it.  you might get to know, or you might never get to know, how very much a kind and encouraging word, a smile, a hug, a tiny gift, a note meant to the person you gave to.  if you appreciate someone, say so.  if you love someone, tell them.  if you are proud of someone, make sure they know it.  you may be giving them exactly what they didn't even know they needed.  and your kindness will never return void.  what goes around always comes around.  beauty and kindness feed beauty and kindness.  ever and always.  be part of the good stuff.  and your cup will be added to, as well.

i am so very grateful for all of you dear ones who have crossed my path.  i have so many blessings to count.  so many.

continue to go gently, love fiercely, and be wonderful. 

love, e