This was the fifth consecutive "4th" we have spent in Europe and the 8th summer of my life celebrating overseas. For whatever reason our Independence Day's have historically made for pretty good stories.  Our first 4th was in Germany.  I was due with our first baby. Most memorable was a lone electric guitar playing the Star Spangled Banner and feeling super choked up. We parked in a field and had to drive off a small curb to exit.  In doing so we knocked our muffler clean off… right before I went into labor. Did I mention they had strict noise control laws in Germany?

The summer of '94 I was nearly due with Alannah.  We were in San Antonio and the temps were near 100.  We watched Selena perform at the base celebration that summer.  She would be murdered a few months later.  

In the late 90's we returned to our vehicle on an army post in VA to find it stone dead.  We tried everything we could but it was no use.  We had to get a taxi.  Actually, when you have six kids you have to get two taxis.  We split up the kids and Allen's taxi took off.  I got into another with the babies and we set off.  It was like midnight by then.  Our driver turned off into a dark remote area and I freaked completely out.  Didn't say anything but was preparing to be a statistic.  He must have read my mind because he quickly fell all over himself to explain he knew a better shortcut and sure enough we arrived home first. 

We spent a frigid 4th in Colorado about a dozen yrs ago.  We had hoped to see the fireworks up at a old mining town but didn't realize it could be 50 degrees up there, even in summer.  Totally were not prepared and decided that with toddlers along, discretion was the better part of valor.  

The year we left Colorado we spent the 4th watching a parade in our tiny cow town.  I use the word town loosely.  : )  I think the whole "town" was actually IN the parade. 

This year we celebrated at RAF Feltwell.  The RAF Red Arrows performed and the kids hit the carnival rides.  This year's highlight ended up being that there is one "gate" out of RAF Feltwell.  Thousands of people exiting single file.  That took about 3.5 hours.  I don't remember all of that.  I do remember waking up a few hours after we began lining up when I heard a boy ask if we were still on base.  Yep.  Still on base.  Still fun though. 

We had today to clean, cook, and pack and are off again for  a totally different adventure.  

So far this summer we are loving…..

the wind in our hair

even when they are fertilizing the fields

campfires 

fresh food

Being outside.  Everyday.  A whole lot. 

Messy art fun

We are still finishing up the school year since we take a very extended mid year break when "the brothers" are here and then another in the spring for a very special wedding.

Our routine for summer school days usually involves getting up and having a leisurely breakfast. Then chores.  Then I settle in at the kitchen island and they gather 'round taking turns sitting next to me or moving down the island to work exercises as needed.  I read their lessons aloud with them which is our favorite time.  I honestly love their books and insert "Isn't that FASCINATING??" comments rather liberally during our sessions together. Then usually rabbit trail off into the wild and wonderful world of youtube : )    Some finds related to our work lately:

youtube history fun here, here and here    

Weekly PE fun here

inspiring art here and here

sidewalk paint here

{this moment} ~ A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

more moments at Amanda's

"Mama, come quick!" 

The children were playing in the garden when they came upon these fledglings, a bit stunned by their rude introduction into the big world.  They were spotted when they had wandered out onto the open grassy area, a bit stunned.  

We talked about mamas, who linger nearby ready to help. We talked about not touching them and playing in the back garden, giving them time and space while they worked it out.  We talked about how hard it is to trust that it will be ok when it doesn't look like it will be ok. 

If you have ever had a fledgling person of your own, you know how much easier that all is in theory.  

Here's to fledglings everywhere, eager to spread untested wings.  Here's to their mama's – hovering closeby, watching, praying, coaching, hoping. 

     For real that is where we were this weekend.  The girls and I grabbed the leashes and headed down to the trail late afternoon.  The woods are coming alive again. They have not completely thrown off winter as you can see by the trees. But, it's starting and it's beautiful.  

This has been a week of outside which is awesome but I have barely had time to bless myself as my Gram would say.  About half (ish, sorta) of my household to-do list is being done….as the painter has no doubt noticed. Still, the sun is shining.  Who can stay inside long? 

The stream and path alongside run behind a neighborhood whose homes back up right to the water's edge. They sport deep backyards with lovely landscaping.  As so many homes in the area do, there are daffodils planted in clumps in the lawn.  

Beautiful evening with my girls.  I have such a sense that these days are numbered as each month passes by, bringing them both closer to leaving the nest for good. I take not one of these walks for granted these days. 
 

It's been many years since I woke up to a window like this. Temperatures have been in the single digits here in the great white north.  

We were walking from the car to the restaurant tonight and Brendan says, "Hey Daddy, look!  I'm a factory!"  "I am too!" the little girls piped in.  They were blowing with all their might, sending great smoke stacks of steamy breath into the frigid air and intermittantly laughing hysterically. 

I grew up here. I shouldn't freak out over single digits. I think you acclimate though.  And then stop being acclimated when you leave.  But I promised myself I would not be one of those tiresome bloggers who write about the weather.  

(insert long pause while I think of something else to say….)

Fortunately there IS a lot of wonderful to share because cold as it is outside the house, the inside held every one of my children. All of them.  Together in one place.  Do you know it has been four long years since every one of them has been in the same room? I am so very grateful I did not know four years ago how long it would be. 

We have been working diligently to finish last minute tasks – assembling favors, stitching slippers, gathering supplies. Mostly though, I am just soaking them all up.  

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

more moments at Amanda's

By all accounts it was a banner year for Halloween around here. No doubt it helped a lot that we began to think about costumes sometime before the week of.

We've seen a lot of great ideas over the years.  Every year as we follow the kids around we muse about all the potential group costumes we could pull off.  Every year we shelf those plans until we are walking around the next time.  This year we started tucking away props well in advance.  We won't always have the numbers at home to be able to pull this off so I didn't want to put off good ideas any longer taking for granted there will be other years. 

That's what my girls dearly wished to do.  But we can only freeze bits of time with the click of a camera. The rest of it marches on.  Their sweet friends have been in front of my camera more than a few times over the past three years. There have been carnivals and caeli's, movie nights and prom nights. Now they are off to  the States after spending more than half their lives on this side of the pond.  It is a big, brave, and beautiful thing these military kids do.  They care, they bond, and then they say goodbye to all that is familiar and friendly to begin again.  

"Twenty-five years.  A quarter century," he messaged very early. 

"Yes."

"It's not been a quiet one."

(laughing) "Nope!" 

Of all the adjectives ever linked to my boy, quiet does not pop up too often.  A fearless toddler, a wildly adventurous child with boundless energy, a teen who pushed past limitations… as well as pushing envelopes and pushing my buttons.  He was destined for big things – big trouble or big opportunity.  In the past quarter century he has seen some of  both.  Such is often the case for those with great drive, great intensity, great vision.  

His mind was and is still always brewing up a great idea or seven. He has been gifted with the fortitude to see those ideas through come heck or high water.  This year he is a college graduate, working fulltime, with a beautiful fiance, coach of a team of inner city basketball players, and partner in a new business. I don't know where the next 25 will take him but it will probably not be quiet because this boy of our's certainly lives out loud. 

Because he also lives on another continent my heart is a little heavy tonight. This morning when we talked he said I just want a birthday blog post, mom.  Make it a good one!  Since this morning I was remembering this story.  It is our story in many ways. So here you are Z.  Wish you were little enough to read to again.  In lieu of that, I wish you were here tonight.  The house is far too quiet without you. : )