for this sweet son of ours, one who is aware of his inner self, one who laments unfair moments, one who needs the outdoors, one who needs people to know who he is, one who loves to be with friends, one who giggles and slaps his leg with laughter, one who trusts his teachers, one who appreciates routine, yesterday was his last day at walton rural life center.

this school changed him.  from thinking of school as “jail” to a place where things grow and animals call and he’d come home dirtier than when he arrived, we are grateful.

furthermore, this school has prepared him.  while there will be hills and valleys, i’m sure, micah anticipates with ease his transition to the 5th/6th center.  we’ve heard wonderful things about the system there (which is different from when naomi was there) and we already feel the support of those helping with the transition.

so, with “thank you” cupcakes for the faculty and staff, we met another milestone for our family.  another change.  another chance to relive memories and dream of the future.

and how grateful we are that eliza will continue on (likely in the same classroom since this year it was a combination 1st/2nd class) as this year.  another chance to learn at a place that “feels like my other home because people take care of me and i have friends and it’s like fun but you have to work but that’s what a home is like.”

again, blessed be and may our hearts be prepared for what it to come.

thanks to the milestones created for us, we travel pretty easily down memory lane (these photos were cut apart, taped together and folded accordian style as our gift/card to her).

amazing, amazing.  naomi had her official eighth grade recognition this morning.

unfortunately it was in the morning and jerry had finals so he wasn’t able to come.

i sat with nana and papa and was reminded how grateful i am for them.

watching naomi with her friends in balance with who she is and the ideas she holds brought me calm joy.

there is a lot to be grateful for.

i also left with the tension of knowing there were kids who had no one there for them, kids who never stood once when the principal was calling out activities or achievements, kids who are perhaps running out of steam to keep doing this school thing.

but in the words of the school counselor, you only need to be good at one thing.  find your passion.  everyone has one.  figure that out and life will fall into place.

amen.

just for fun, here is 5th grade recognition and 8th grade recognition.  three years changes a lot!

so yes, 8th grade.  check!

the last day for this chaotic joy.

i’ll be the one talking during the sermon teaching time (notice i didn’t say i was doing the sermon or teaching) on sunday…reflecting on the chaotic joy this program is.

i say it every year.  i can’t believe this day has come.

the grown ups sit and talk and make music and practice for winfield bluegrass festival.

the kids play dress up and eat and climb trees and go to the park and throw balls and sit and visit and make music with us too.

the boys, getting older, tried to avoid the camera.

too bad for them i was not giving up.

the kept shifting down to avoid me.

they tried to look casual.

and when a sister comes in with a cheesy grin, you give in.

lovely children.  growing older moment by moment.

when there was a chick loose in the front yard (which is along a quite busy street),
i called out to eliza,

“don’t chase it.  
just stand where you don’t want it to go
and that will keep it safe.”

oh my.  it is as if those words came out of my mouth for me.  not as much about the chicks as much as my growing children. i realize it’s possible i’ve chased after them more than i should have.  and now, especially with my oldest, it is probably time to come up with a new plan. so maybe i stand in the places where i hope she doesn’t end up.

maybe that means i’ll meet her there, after the pain of the moment.
maybe that means i’ll be there to help redirect.
maybe that means i’ll simply be there to watch it all unfold.

but i’m thinking of those places.  the places to stand.

our dear naomi put herself out there again and after a week of hard work on many levels,
made the junior varsity cheerleading squad for next year.

i’ll be standing a lot.

{and you’re welcome…anyone else humming a little r.e.m.?}

again i’ve found myself updating the preschool blog, diving in and out of facebook every day, getting cozy with instagram folks, but not recording here.  but this is where my mind’s voice meets my eye.  where i notice the things i wait for.

i’m writing from the front porch in a pretty idilic moment.  a cold local beer from a friend, chicks pecking at the grass while the cat circles their cage, eliza considering it her work to keep him away, micah updating his games on the ipod, naomi inside doing periodic table homework while listening to the country music station, jerry at the store getting flowers for school along with milk and syrup for our breakfasts, ground beef and potatoes simmering in several tablespoons of garlic and cumin to be added to our taco salad tonight.  it is a snapshot of all that i am grateful for.  along with these snippets caught on phone.

:: ::

new pigs and a donkey moving in to walton school.

he is sooooo soft.  who knew.  i think i want a donkey now.

visiting martha, she comes right to the fence for a cuddle.

:: ::

my mondays are preschool kid-free days.  i go there at my usual 8 am time, but it’s just me, npr and a room in waiting.  while there are many mondays that i wish the chairs were already set up or the sculpture from the previous week was still in place, this job is my dream come true.  every monday is a palette to work from.

the school year is coming to a close…we’re on letter y, which will be followed by z and then a couple weeks of crazy goodness.  amazing.

:: ::

it wasn’t long ago that i would be done with parenting at 7:00.  i was the one doing most of it during the day, so jerry would take his turn in the evening.  the kids would be bathed by then and jerry would take them up for books and putting to sleep.  these days, naomi outlasts us.  the dynamic is different, but i am keenly aware that these are days to be treasured.

:: ::

the power of women, the gift of laughter, the release in breathing from the belly are lifelines for me.

the care of these women have changed who i am…inside and out.

:: ::

i felt a nearly three year old’s hand on my leg this week and in my core i knew i would not forget the honor of that moment.

:: ::

the animal kingdom-ness of this home brings me mostly joy.  the smell of chicken poop was not joyful, but as of yesterday, they have moved out to a temporary coop in the garage and their poop smell is a distant memory.

micah and eliza “rescued” an injured baby rabbit.  there was some forced hydrating before he scampered away without our cats noticing (we hope).  the perceived need of the rabbit soothed my children. the tenderness of my children soothed me.

:: ::

food.  drink.  my gratitude runs deep.

:: ::

i’m grateful that i can run in silly short strides 2-3 times a week without shin splint pain.  the sound of my feet on a dirt road means something new to me.

:: ::

the poppies bloomed.  one of the things i wait most for.

and even in the action of spring, the crazy chaos of older-kid family life, there is a lot of waiting.

i’m glad for that.

we’ve heard “life threatening tornadoes” in the forecast for the last couple of days.

so, we’re home.  tidying the nest.  getting things done.  updating each other.  
(i’ve heard where and when the tornadoes have hit western kansas all day from my kids.)  
it sounds like we’ll see our own action in the next couple hours.

we’re about to have some noodle soup and wait it out.  
while some would love to see a tornado, i’m fine not to.
all day i’ve been more aware of how many people in the world
live with the hype and reality of potential destruction all the time.  
god be with them.

in the ordinary we see the holy
in the holy we trust resurrection

resting sore throats, decorating eggs, telling easter stories,
cooking, buying food, sitting on the porch, watching baby chicks grow,
dividing into smaller groups, running the big hill,
dreaming of better things and remaining in these moments,
we approach the shared joy of sunday.

in the ordinary we see the holy
in the holy we trust resurrection

resting sore throats, decorating eggs, telling easter stories,
cooking, buying food, sitting on the porch, watching baby chicks grow,
dividing into smaller groups, running the big hill,
dreaming of better things and remaining in these moments,
we approach the shared joy of sunday.

12 eggs = 21 days of incubation, egg turning, delighting in the first hatch, hatching assistance for one (which felt very birth like!!), determining the other ten eggs to be infertile after all, bonding with the two baby chicks and adding three more chicks from the store, grieving at the deaths of our hatched chicks after three days, getting money refunded (thank you murray mcmurray!), and purchasing 6 more live chicks. whew.

if you see me or naomi on facebook, you knew the drama hour-by-hour at times.

after lots of online research and asking questions in forums, we determined that since she “pipped” her egg and hadn’t hatched in over 24 hours, the membrane was drying out and she wasn’t able to break through it (it turns hard like plastic).

so we were to break off tiny pieces of the shell (not the membrane) and dab warm water on the membrane to soften it.

she wiggled the whole time in there and under the warming lamp, out she came!

and can i just say how much like my babies she looks to me?   small, big eyes, dark hair…i don’t know, but bird-like they were.

most likely the chicks that hatched had “other internal problems”…hmmmm.  they were active and sweet for those first days. the strongest and most active one, andy jackson (since it looked like he was one of two $20 chicks), died first.  we were surprised.

and i can guarantee you that sweet baby rue, the one with the assisted hatching, was loved til the end, dying the day after andy.

(again looking oddly like my own babies)

we spoon fed her, held her,  made sure it was warm enough, gave her something soft to cuddle next to, said good night and good bye, and in the morning she was in the same position we left her.

this is part of why we did this.  life and death and the circle of them both.

and we still have 9 scratching, peeping, pooping, pecking soft bundles of goodness.