Things and Stuff

"Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits." 

— Samuel Butler

Hey, I'm a bit under the weather today, okay? Not every title can be poetry.

Yesterday was the first day of fall. My birthday was a few days ago, but I feel the same excitement on this day each year. It's become a stereotypical, Pinterest-y season that has everyone talking about Starbucks and plaid, leaves and boots, pumpkins and apples. But it's a stereotype I'll gladly own, because fall has always been my favorite. It feels new to me in a way that even spring can't compete with, and it never ceases to inspire me. Fall is for back to school, cardigans, and baking, but most of all, it's for writing.

My birthday was my 31st. Last year, I felt a sense of bewilderment at how I arrived at 30, and a sense of relief that beginning this new decade didn't mean my life was basically over (which is what I assumed of my parents, because 30 might as well have been 80). This year, I checked to see if my face was wrinkly, and promptly forgot I had a birthday at all. Old age will do that to you.

Everyone took the same picture, but I love it anyway.

Life is fast paced lately. The calendar is filling up quickly. Busy can be good, if done the right way, but I'm having to remind myself of that when my introverted soul would much rather be safe at home. Home, however, has become a busy place itself; Millie and I are in our first month of homeschooling. The mornings are beginning to settle into a bit of a routine now. I've planned very lightly themed weeks- this week is apples. Right now, we're focused on learning better to read and write, which makes up arguably the most important part of kindergarten. We're also doing math in simple ways, like learning the value of coins, understanding the calendar, etc. And while we're on this subject, I just need add that I don't know how my mother homeschooled without Google. I've already had to look up a couple science questions that a five year old asked me. 

Checking into the hotel for our quick Indy trip

Walter is having some two year old stubbornness, but he is still a sweetheart who loves his mama. It's amazing, and a little sad, to observe the way his speech is progressing into longer sentences and bigger vocabulary. He's always been an easy baby. This age, though, is the sweet spot, I think. Even though I desperately miss his early days, I love that he's old enough to tell me some of what he wants or needs, but young enough to still feel small and snuggle on my lap with a book about trains.

Marriage is still going well- really well. However, with that goodness comes fear. With a past like ours, I worry that things will come crashing down around me at any moment. Happiness doesn't come easily in some cases. It has to be learned, too. I'm trying to memorize that feeling and trust it.

We've started attending Wednesday night Bible study at our church. I'll be honest and say that this is very hard for me when it comes to the social aspect. I feel so drained at the end of it. The speakers are thought provoking and interesting, but the second half of the night is a small group. It's like a miniature party full of women. Most women seem to enjoy chatting in a group like this, but it is not so pleasant for a girl like me. I try to smile and not look mean, but spend a lot of time staring at my hands and paging through my book. The first week, I texted Sky (who was in the men's group down the hall) and told him I wanted to leave, because I'm mature like that. Last night went a lot better, mostly because I clutched my caramel apple cider like a security blanket, and curled up in bed when I got home.

Millie joined a children's choir here in town. While I'm as introverted as they come, Miss Amelia Kae is the absolute opposite, and I'm glad she has an outlet to make friends and have a little spotlight. They'll have a winter concert near Christmas and another concert in May. I can't wait to watch her on the stage.

Speaking of Christmas- my Mom is coming to visit again this year. I haven't seen her since last December, and that's hard when she's one of my favorite people. We're already planning to bake (i.e., she shows me how to bake) and enjoy Christmas-y things together. The most exciting part of her visit is that we're driving to a Chicago suburb to see It's a Wonderful Life in a theater, and meet the actress who played ZuZu, Karolyn Grimes. It's incredibly significant to me, and not just because it's my favorite movie in the entire universe ever of all time. She and one of the other "Bailey children" are the only actors from the movie still alive. Meeting someone who has been on camera with Jimmy Stewart is going to be amazing. Typing that probably makes me 71 instead of 31.

Millie might be having fun

And last, but not least? I had the privilege of meeting Kim from She is Fierce, and her awesome family! You can tell from the photo that Millie had wonderful time, too. They came through Champaign last week, and were gracious enough to spend time with us one night. We talked about Canada, I moped about being American, and it was lovely. For some reason, meeting bloggers is easy for me- maybe because, unlike my church group, I've felt connected to so many girls for so many years, it's as if I already know them well when we first meet. I guarantee that the 5 or so people who read this blog know me infinitely better than nearly everyone in "real life".

That about sums up my world right now. I thought about writing a prettier post, but realized that so much has been added to my life lately, I should probably explain some of it before I tell you how I feel about it. Soon, I'll wax poetic about everything autumn, but for this afternoon, we'll catch up like the old friends we are. Sit down with a cup of something hot and tell me how you've been.

An Open Door

"Happiness is something that comes into our lives through doors we don't even remember leaving open." 
— Rose Wilder Lane

They would haunt me nearly every night.

No matter how happy the day, the sun would set, the moon would rise, and all that has happened before would rush into the room. A weight would settle on me, pinning me down to grief. I could hear his breaths from the pillow next to mine, and instead of feeling gratefulness, I felt bitter that I was forced to relive the unhappiness night after night. His dreams were peaceful, but mine would not let me forget, and I woke up crying so many times. How could I let go when something bigger than myself had taken hold of me that strongly? Those nights were lonely, set on fire with old rage, and left me battle weary.

And then, last night, I had a new dream. I dreamt that he and I renewed our vows. Happy music was playing, we were in love, and we danced and danced. I was wearing some sort of lovely dress, and he looked handsome. The evening was sweet and purple and warm, There were strings of white lights over our heads, and our hearts were so full. The people who gathered around watched us as if we were newlyweds. I felt the kind of pure elation that I hadn't felt in so long- not like a familiar, old friend returning, but a new friend that appeared out of the blue.

It's strange how those unconscious thoughts, and those that slip quietly into the empty spaces of the day, can shape a life. I no more chose the happiness than I chose the sadness, but both found me. Some days, the raw memories were all I could think of, while other days went by without them, but they would always find me in the nighttime. Maybe my body is tired of being sad, or maybe there has been enough life gone by that my thoughts have grown wings again. I don't know how it works, gaining a little hope back at a time, but I gasp for that air as much as I can now. I had forgotten how to take a whole breath. Is this how hearts heal and minds rest? I hope so.

There is an open door in the evening. He steps through it after a day at work, closes it behind him, and hugs the ones who are waiting for him in the hall. He rounds the corner. I am happy.

I have not felt that for so long.

Take a Taste

 "Pull up a chair. Take a taste. Come join us. Life is so endlessly delicious."  — Ruth Reichl

Millie has been asking me for a year now.

An entire 365 days of, "Can we go eat at the festival?" "The Taste of Champaign?" I ask. "Yeah!" she exclaims. It only comes once a year, but it's seared into her memory as a highlight of summertime. Maybe it's because we've been going long before she was even born. Central Illinois is rich with special events, but this is one we never miss.

The Taste of Champaign-Urbana has always been a favorite in our family. It's become a summer weekend-long tradition full of crafts booths, pony rides, inflatables, concerts and fun acts, activities for kids, and most importantly, a smorgasbord of some of the best restaurants in Chambana.

I like to map out my stops ahead of time, and I can already tell you I'll be stopping at the Minneci's booth for some bruschetta, the Pop Stop for a fun popsicle, Manolo's for a dessert empanada, Millie will drag me to the Kona Ice truck for some shaved ice, and Walter will beg for some popcorn from the Champaign County Historical Museum booth.

But though some parts of the weekend are for fulfilling those traditions, I love that it's a fun way for families to try something new. Millie had her first pony ride last year, and was beside herself with excitement. We watched a kids' concert that my dad, in an overzealous display of hand waving, volunteered me for as a guest on stage. I tried my first sip of Thai tea, and it was heaven. And it was Walter's first time to run through giant bubbles and ride on our shoulders through West Side Park. 

I'm sure that Sky, Millie, and Walter would all have a different part of the Taste of C-U that they like best. Mine is that we get to have a weekend of entertainment and delicious food that isn't forgotten like a typical restaurant meal would be. Instead, we make memories that last us until the next summer.

The Champaign Park District was kind enough to provide $25 in Taste tickets for the winner of this giveaway! The tickets can be picked up at the festival. Just enter below for a chance to win! And either way, make sure to visit this year's Taste of C-U. I'll say hi- but only after dinner, of course.

The 2015 Taste of Champaign-Urbana is 

August 21 from 5-11pm, and August 22 from 11am-11pm. 

It's held in West Side Park,

 steps from downtown Champaign, Illinois.
Post your photos to Instgram using the #TasteCU hashtag- I'll be doing the same!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Disclosure: I was provided with Taste tickets from The Champaign Park District in exchange for this blog post. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Uneasy

"Remember this also: it’s always easy to look back and see what we were, yesterday, ten years ago. 

It is hard to see what we are." 

— Harper Lee (Go Set a Watchman)

If I could sum up this summer in one word, it would be just that- uneasy. Or uncomfortable. The kind of nervous, slightly sad feeling in the pit of your stomach when something- or in this case, many things- just seems off. Like the summer cold we all seem to have, I'm bundled up in bed in my sweatshirt even though I should be chasing Millie and Walter at a park. It isn't supposed to be like this.

There has been good in these June, July, and now August days. Everyone in the family has had a birthday (except me), and it is always fun to share cake and see the joy over presents and balloons. Millie had a milestone birthday, turning 5, and a 5th birthday is its own sort of magic. She and I will start her kindergarten year in September, and we're busy preparing for it. Sky and I have been doing noticeably better, and it's a relief to feel that again. And though Walter has had a few moments of definite two year old actions, he's still as cuddly and sweet as ever.

But circumstances beyond my control have made my heart a little weary, a little unsure. It's like the tornado sirens the city tested this morning; the day is cool and sunny, quite perfect for July, but that ominous sound is hard to shake. It feels wrong.

The most glaringly obvious disruption to our lives has been, of all things, my beloved Illinois. The politics in this state are much less beloved, however, and the state government has been shut down since the end of June. While I won't bore you with pages of my thoughts on the matter, it boils down to a lot of hardship on a lot of people, the poorest people who most need help. And because Sky is a state employee of sorts (also too complicated to explain), we've been left wondering every two weeks whether his paycheck will arrive. After being told to stay home for a whole week, he is back working, but the budget crisis is far from over. I've been spending my nights writing to representatives, no doubt in vain.

A friend moved away this morning. She posted a photo of a Champaign country road, cracked and probably lined with dots of white Queen Anne's Lace and blue chicory, and now she's gone. We've known each other for years but only developed a closer friendship over the last year or so, and that alone makes me sad, because we could have had more time. I shared a lot of common interests with her, more than I have with someone in a long time, and while she's moving on with her life in necessary ways, it's still hard to say goodbye.

And, maybe laughably to some, it's been hard to say goodbye to another friend. Sidnie, one of the few blog friends I have who truly gets me, surprised me with Go Set a Watchman a couple weeks back. I won't spoil the book for anyone, but most people know that Maycomb has changed, Atticus has changed, and even Scout has changed. To Kill a Mockingbird is one of my favorites, and it took root in my own childhood, reading it for school, and then again on a family camping trip. I vividly remember being caught up in Tom Robinson's trial as I sat on a dusty chair by a fire pit in the woods. The new book shakes up what I thought I knew about that Alabama town, and left me unsettled. Harper Lee must have known what my summer would be like when she wrote it, and it matched my mood perfectly.

Earlier, I said that I wanted to write when life had smoothed over into calm again, and I could tell the story from the other side. But like most stories, as some parts resolve, others swiftly change, and so it's best to write as it happens. The unease of the summer of 2015 will melt into sweeter autumn, crisp caramel apples, pencil cases and notebooks, and my favorite part of the year. I am ready to trade the sticky, worried days of August for the promise of golden leaves and lighter hearts.

Two

 "Young boys should never be sent to bed. They always wake up a day older." 

— J.M. Barrie

Last night, I picked him up from his crib while he was still sleeping. He snuggled close to me in the dim room lit from the hallway. I slowly rocked from side to side the way a mother innately does when she holds her baby. He legs folded into my arms, and his head rested perfectly on me, just right, as if my shoulders were always meant to carry the weight of that blonde head. I whispered that I loved him, and with closed eyes, he whispered "luh you"  back. There are moments when I know I'll never remember the details, but I know I'll remember the feeling, and this was one. The feeling of letting go just a little more when I only want to hold tighter. Because today, Walter turns two.

What I do remember vividly is what happened two years ago. I remember how I went to bed and woke up a half hour later in full labor. I remember the car ride to the hospital through dark and empty streets on that June night. I remember how quickly it all happened, and I remember all the pain. But most of all, I remember someone in the room telling me that it was a boy. And when I held him that first time, I realized I'd been missing him so much even though we hadn't met until that second. My heart was waiting so long to kiss him and call him my son. There's a love more powerful than the storybook love at first sight; it's the love so strong before the first glimpse. Every movement and strong kick felt, every heartbeat heard thumping on a monitor, and every time I stood in his empty nursery, thinking about who I would bring home from the hospital- they were all preparing me to cherish this little boy of mine.

He runs a little farther from me than he used to, busy with so much to learn, and see, and do. But he always run back, needing a hug when he falls down or when his feelings are hurt. And though I know I will fail both Millie and Walter a hundred times over, I can promise that I will always be here when they need to run back. They'll never know that I need those embraces more than they ever will. I'm grateful that he still looks back and runs for me now.

Today, he is two. Today, he is closer to more words, more complicated thoughts, more joy, more sadness, and more life. It's hard to arrange the cards and balloons without a little ache, because the boy who needed me for everything needs me a little less every day. But it's also impossible not to celebrate the last two years, because he's brought more happiness to our family than I could have ever imagined.  

We've played, we've cuddled, we've danced, and we've been up late from a fever. We have walked and ran and climbed and read and napped together. We have learned and we have grown. And Walter, how sweet it has been.

Happy birthday, little love. You're my favorite boy in the world. I can't wait for our next adventures.