Spring Fever

Drip, drip, drip. The snow melts off the roof as I sit in the glorious sunshine. I tilt my head back and soak it up, grateful for every single ray. 

This euphoria is a northeastern phenomenon. I have lived in California and I have lived in Florida and while both have their own beauty, the northeast  makes you earn days like these, dammit.
And when something comes this hard-earned, the appreciation meter goes wild.
We have not seen blue sky in weeks. Weeks, I tell you. I have suffered through snowstorms and snow days and February school break and more snowstorms and all of it has been gray. 
And then we get the gift of this weekend.
In the northeast, people go a little nuts when we get days like this. “Spring fever” truly exists. When the thermometer goes above 50, the shorts and t-shirts are dug out, people play frisbee in the streets, neighbors that you haven’t seen in months wave from across the street, all types of birds call overhead. It’s a party everywhere you look.
When you live in a warmer climate, you don’t get these extremes. There is no possible way to understand how glorious that drip, drip, drip sounds. You need the contrast of the gray to fully appreciate the blue.
So today, I fall to my knees and give thanks. We will all spend as much time as we can outside, breathing the fresh, spring air. We will soak up every last ray. 
Because tomorrow is another day and anyone who has lived here knows that March cannot be trusted. 
The northeast likes her surprises.
K and g bucket
The above picture was taken when the thermometer read 44 degrees (in the shade)
Circa 1998 The "kid in the pot" thing goes way back for us. Not really sure why...

Circa 1998
The “kid in the pot” thing goes way back for us.
Not really sure why…




Over 50 degrees? Off with the clothes!

Over 50 degrees?
Off with the clothes!



The screen flickers and suddenly there you are, a nine-year old boy lounging on the couch, tracing tanks from a book.

It takes my breath away to see you again so suddenly. The videotape was unearthed this afternoon victoriously by your sister- her long-lost baby tape. Her baby image stuns me as well, but here she sits, beaming beside me, in all of her 10-year-old deliciousness.

With you it’s a different story. You have morphed into a man and have left that couch behind, left us all behind. Of course, the goal all along was for you to leave us behind. That is what we worked towards every day, for all of those years. That was what all that love was about: building you, building you, building you, so you would have the strength and the guts and the drive to leave us all behind.

And you did it so well, my amazing, beautiful boy. You decided what you wanted and checked your fear at the door. You walked away from your family, your friends, your town and your country -everything that was known to you- all for the adventure of it. I couldn’t be more proud.

So I sit and mourn the loss of the nine-year old version of you. This mothering gig is so much more complex than I ever thought it would be. I honestly had no idea that my sweet babies would grow long and get big teeth (that their bodies would need to grow into) and sprout dark hairs and speak unrecognizably low. It never occurred to me that you would grow up.

But somewhere deep in me, I knew. Of course I knew. That is evolution. It is in all of us. Instinctively, I knew my job.

But it all happened so quickly. Were you ever a baby? Is that really you on the couch? And who was that woman behind the camera? Is she the same person who weeps for you now? Will I be asking these same questions ten years from now?

Yes. I will. So it reminds me to hug a little tighter and speak a little kinder.

You were the first. You blazed the trail and you have done a magnificent job. Your siblings will follow, even if they believe that they are not. You have shown them what can be done, what is possible. They will do it in their own unique way, but you were the first. You will always be the big brother.

You will always be my child.

3 days old Our life as we knew it was over

3 days old
Our life, as we knew it, was over


My serious boy, dealing with serious things

My serious boy, dealing with serious things.
Things that will mold and shape
and make you who you are




luke in Brazil

My boy doing just fine in Brazil



Before you cross the street,

Take my hand

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans  ~ John Lennon  

                                                                                                  “Beautiful boy (Darling boy)”