Feeling a little melancholy this morning, maybe it's the season?  The leaves are changing, it's getting cooler outside - Fall is here.  Soon, Thanksgiving and then all too quickly Christmas will be here and gone.  Another year, passed.

Where has time gone?  Maybe it's because my days and weeks are spent the same - I treasure the quiet of my days off work, with time to myself to spend as I wish.  My work days are made better because I get to see my friends, not because of any great feeling of accomplishment anymore.  When did that change?  Am I making a difference there?  Occasional glimpses of a higher purpose appear, but they're few and far between. 

I got to spend some time with Mama last week when she and Dan-man came to stay with us while Greg was gone on his annual fishing trip.  I don't know how good my company was, but I really enjoyed her visit.  (Thanks, Mama for taking care of me!) You always amaze me with how you never complain about doing something for one of us.  Well, maybe you do, but I never hear it.  I know very few people who would make an apple pie at 10:30 at night just because.  If the grand kids want pizza, and then want something else, and then something're on it.  And the #1 rule: 'Grandma overrules the Mama' stands well and true.

My memories of my childhood are fleeting - I don't remember many day to day events, and as I get older, even things that I thought I'd always remember at the time, are gone.  That makes me sad. 
I allow things to come and go, moments that I think to myself, "I need to go write that down" only to be distracted by something - the moment passes, along with the memory.  

I want time to stop sometimes - or at least slow down for goodness sakes!  Maybe it's me?  Maybe I need to savor each moment as it comes a little more.  Allowing the moment to sink in a little deeper, grow that when I want to re-visit that time, I'll be able to remember. 

photo credit: Shari Weinsheimer

A day or three in the life of a boy

This n' that.  Bits n' pieces.  Here n' there over the past few days.

Little man piped up from the back seat to tell us that he'd volunteered to be on the Student Council at school. (2nd grade student council??) He said that when his teacher asked for volunteers,  he and two other boys stepped forward. He said if he wasn't chosen as a representative, he might still get to be the alternate when the rep wasn't there. 
So proud he wants to help!   Now, my question is, what kind of decisions will second graders be making? I can just see it now......Recess! Candy! No school on Mondays! Hamburgers every day!   :)

*update:  found out last night that Ben was not chosen to be on the SC.  They had three volunteers but only two positions, so somebody had to be the losing candidate.  Broke my heart when he told me that he didn't get enough votes.   He did tell me: "I voted for myself, is that ok?"     :)
Maybe next time, sweetie.  

Sunday morning:
A friend from church passed on a little tidbit of information to me from Children's Church.  During the lesson, the leader asked the kids what their feelings were when they saw a homeless person.  Obviously, each child gave a different answer - feel sorry for them, or wonder why they're homeless, etc.  Ben's answer?  He said he thinks, "maybe they could come and live with me".

Sunday night/Monday morning:
At bedtime last night, I asked Ben what he'd rather do in the morning:  ride the bus or be a 'car rider' to school.  (On Mondays & Fridays he has a choice because I don't work on those days.  FYI - there's a BIG difference in the time he - and I - have to get up depending on which mode of transportation he chooses.)  His answer last night was to ride the bus.  Joy.  Not the answer I'd hoped to hear.....that meant we'd have to be up by 6am. 
Goodnight kisses given, I head off to the kitchen to get the coffee pot ready for my bleary-eyed-morning-self.  Then it was off to bed for me.
Fast forward to this morning.  Awakened by the alarm, I stumble my bleary-eyed-self into the kitchen to the coffee pot.  Pour myself a cup, take a few sips (ok, half a cup) to clear the cobwebs, then head in to wake the child. 
Let me just pause here to ask, is there anything sweeter in this whole wide world than a sleeping child?  Even this wild, loud monkey boy that smells like a billy goat most of the time is a vision of angelic peace when he sleeps.   Ok, picking up where we left off....
I crawl into bed with my sweet sleepy child,  say his name and tell him it's time to get up.  He stretches and then doesn't move again.  Has he gone back to sleep?   I remind him that if he wants to go back to sleep and just let me take him to school, that he could sleep for another hour - but if he planned to ride the bus, he needed to get up now.  
My sweet baby then turned to me and asked me if I wanted to go back to sleep.  When I told him no baby, I'm ok - he said he'd go ahead and get up too. 
We headed to the living room couch where he joined me for an early morning snuggle.  40 minutes later, we were still there as the schoolbus stopped out in front of the house. 
We ignored it. 

I love that stinky, wild, billy-goat-smelling, monkey boy.

bad dreams

Alarm clock read 7:00am.   Little man was already awake, but not out of bed yet.  Kisses and good morning hugs given, then he told me he'd had a bad dream.  When I questioned him about it, he told me that there were three 'bad guys' in the garage and he couldn't get away from them.  Their crime?   They "had written on Daddy's truck with a crayon".
He was very brave though, he said he'd kicked them in the face and then closed the garage door. 
When we told Daddy about the dream, he and Ben went out in the garage just to make sure they were gone for good.  Nope, no sign of them! Guess they knew not to mess with my little man anymore!