"Fanx". A lot.

Somebody else had a birthday. (Um, it may have even been in the fall. That's what happens sometimes. Sorry buddy. I wrote about you then, but didn't get to publish it.)

On the day before you turned 5, amidst a great deal of giggles and birthday pancakes, I recounted in my head the day you were born and how I worked with such intensity to get you with your sideways turned head here. The way that you greeted the world with such calmness and keen observation, not even crying.

These days you are not always calm. Things change pretty rapidly for you. But you do take in everything.

All year your art has really developed. Your pictures, like your life,  are filled with great details and voyages and heroes and quests. Your horse teacher is right that someday you may write a very complex book.

Bastilla: The girl elf

Your gratitude for the world around you is always near the surface and just hearing your simple "fanx" always makes me more energized and generous. Also you very astutely have discovered that, "magic isn't real; except when it's in yours heart." So, in you my darling, never forget that it is actually overflowing.

 

Music also is slowly opening itself up to you. You surprised us all when suddenly you love to do your own funky dances, especially to Latin rhythms, and, unlike so many other times, do not even care if anyone is watching you.

Your humor has developed and as you remind us, can be a great coping mechanism for all of us. Sometimes we meow together when you are upset (I have no idea why this works, but it does), or your toothbrush has to talk, or you and I play a complex game where I am you as a grownup and you are me as a little girl. I get to give you permission to be a lot less serious. And through it all, you remain a small man of great mystery.

Before you turned five you had the firsts of learning to ride a horse, singing in front of an audience, the two of us starting Tae Kwon Do together-- that thing you have "waited for your whole life." You also make some pretty mean pancakes.

Lake Ft. Smith

And some pretty silly faces. You are trying to be a good brother, going along with crazy exploits, enduring being dressed, positioned, and frequently bossed. However, you are also starting to take on new roles as director and crafter of stories. And you stand up for yourself. Fiercely. With your toddler sister you are more willing to indulge, occasionally adore, and even collaborate with her.

You are exacting and careful. Few adults notice or care about all of the details that you do. And you also have the artistic gift of thinking non-linearly and in multiple directions, dimensions, and story lines. Your giggles are amazing and I am so thankful for the quiet mornings when we are up before anyone else in the house. And that you still have a Dragon, who grows and that you make nests for. Dragons, are after all, sometimes very delicate. You help me to learn about patience and living with intensity and completeness. How I love you and your daisies that fill my days.

-XOXO Mama

Thinking about a boy

...A boy who's lean limber body is always a knocked arrow ready to fly, a spring
ready to bounce, a kite ready to fly. A boy who had a birthday recently! He moves with gaiety and speed. He never walks, but instead prances, climbs, and cavorts- everywhere. He knows lots of funny buttons- and he pushes them all simultaneously. Sometimes, I want to be more like this boy. I want to act fearless, even when I am not. I want to see the world as mostly friendly and entirely open-handed.

I wish that I could fabricate out of nothing a world where only my favorite things and selected people could live. I wish that I could take on any new challenge unabashedly, and, even, at times, foolheartedly. And I want to find the hilarity that you see in the world through it's quirks. I want to feel humor without embarrassment.

I wish I could see a world that said yes to my heart, even when no echoed in my ears. I wish I could stack numbers and make them dance. I want to see your magic in discovering new words. I want to learn new things, whole languages, any instrument encountered; just because. To be able to soak up stories how a tide pool catches the tide and then to see their reflections completely mesmerized.

I want to seek out stars and feel undaunted by the universe and the tinyness of my place in it.

I want to make everyone feel cherished and welcomed and friendly.

Oh, to be unfatigued and undeterred and, no matter what, to have your drive to press on! I love you dear boy and am glad you had such a wonderful birthday!

Love,
Mama

Dear little mouse,

Calyn. Photo by Emily McVay

(Very recently you turned two. Now, could you please P-L-E-A-S-E start sleeping predictably, and needing my a little less- just a little- so that I can write about you more)?

How completely lovely you are. All of my children have brilliantly changed my life, of course, but there has been something completely different about us from the beginning. Having a girl created a deep seeded need to make the world a better place and to become even more involved in women's issues. You sleep with your hand on my face, you work dutifully at everything you do, you see the world through a lens of compassion and humanity.

You are on the cusp of not being a baby anymore. How can that be? (You are going to hear me asking that question A LOT in the years to come as one year morphs and melts into the next). For now I am savoring your words and your unwords. I'm loving the cute-sey way you end everything in e or -sey. Shoe-sey, hat-sey, hop-ey, sit-ey, jump-ey. Gram-ey. Share-sey. That's gonna be a tough one. And a shrill one. The morning greeting of "hi" in your chipper tweet melts me everytime. The curls that halo your head. I love your grasp of language and how you think dragon flies should growl and meerkats should meow. I love how you "play" French horn and how you seek out daddy. I love how you imitate snores and shoosh others when your brothers are sleeping.

But there are some of your traits that I sure hope you keep as you grow.

Discretion
Baby, I was thrilled when you didn't want to sit on that Santa Clause's lap. I like that you don't clamor over everyone the first time that you meet them. You give a face time to sink in and allow a character to develop. You gage people uncannily well. And you don't allow people to hold your hand just because it's cute.

An assertive voice
Things are all pleasant and jolly until someone has overlooked your opinion. You may have to exercise restraint, at times, over your strong manners, but keep on giving the world your opinions, and use your mean face if necessary. Stand up for yourself, stand up for injustices. And don't back down from mean turkeys.

Dancing queen
You feel the music in everything, even suitcases thumping at the airport. Never stop seeking. Never stop dancing. But dance because it makes your heart glad. Dance when nobody's watching. Dance to save your soul. Dance to make your plants grow. Dance to be alive.

Pretty
Already you love to adorn yourself. But always give reverence to the body you are dressing up. Remember that those thighs that may be squishy are still so sweet because they help you to stretch up your toes. And remember a belly pooch can be adorable even if it grows into a fluctuating beast- some day it may even help you to carry a new life. Remember that no matter your size you will always be worthy of being loved. 

Thank you so much for being brilliantly you!

Happy birthday to my maniac man on the move!

Dear Cris,

What an important year it has been! You my dear are learning so many things like how to unlock the secrets of letters and to have big aspirations, such as being a practicing ninja when you are 100. On your first day of kindergarten your biggest aspiration was to learn to be a spy. I have no doubt that you could have physically done it, you would have already engineered a pathway to the moon.

You have left the shadow of babyhood behind and now stand straight like a knocked bow string. You can still curl yourself into my lap, barely, but mostly I spend time looking at the back of your head as you dash to complete your next brilliant idea. You push ahead past naysayers, dream droppers, and road blockers, and sometimes even advice givers. Sometimes, sadly, even when that well wisher is me.

You take the world at full throttle and are utterly captivated by it. And you create curious and marvelous things- a periscope out of a rain gutter that stretches in a tree over our back fence (and thankfully wasn't quite long enough to reach the power lines above), custom holsters, trap doors, booby traps, propellers, catapults, bridges.

You have spunk, in abundance, and frequently lead the dance raves or the party, test your boundaries, and, completely shocking to me, even occasionally moon me. Your favorite things are bold and brassy, so it was completely fitting when you begged to join band this year to play trumpet. You were completely undaunted at being the youngest student that has ever been in the program. Yet you had to learn some valuable lessons about the power of persistence, team work, and humility. Keep coming back to those.

I hope you will continue to be undaunted by learning or paradigms of knowledge and know that it is awesome to keep learning about cosmology, and meteorology, and Gaelic, and knighthood- right now- because they are interesting to you and because only through our questions can we unlock the world.

I hope that you will let this world keep spinning you around and never ask to get off until the ride has come to a complete stop.

I hope that you will remember just how much love you have to give out from that very big, all be it, very crazy, heart of yours.

We love you so much.
X-O-X-O

Mom

Happy birthday Connor!

I know I say it every time, but so hard to believe that this week Connor turned four. Here is a photo book I made for him that showcases some of our silliness!

Click here to view this photo book larger

Photo Book Tip: Create an adventurous travel photo album at Shutterfly.com.

Connor (age 2), 'member that pawt?

For you, two was about...

Charm

Okay, well not when you were flailing on the floor screaming for an hour because we used the wrong flavor of toothpaste, or cut your chicken along the wrong invisible lines, or because you didn't believe in naps at all till you were 2.5, or... but luckily you had us at "Luv. luv." and "Me luv you". You continually captivate us with your sweet and sticky self; especially when you say sor-sor (sorry) or sing.