This weekend was the highlight of the summer - the annual Silver Eagles barn party. Finally, this being the fifth year we’ve attended, Mr. MG wasn’t deployed or on duty on the big night. It was high time he saw what all the fuss was about.

It was downright chilly this year. But that was a handy thing - imagine no flies or wasps invading the picnic. We spread out blankets and dug into the potluck, which I think is only getting better each year. In about five minutes all three kidlets were covered in grass, various salad dressings, and frosting.

L had tried to cop out by calling an hour before it started, saying she was too busy. But I nagged smooth talked her into coming, and got her dad to come, too. And see? She wasn’t too miserable.

Two years ago was her first time coming and her son was just shy of two months old then. This year she brought him and the newest addition, baby J. Dang. That’s one cute baby.

New Creation couldn’t make it to play bluegrass after supper, so instead we settled down to enjoy an excellent variety show of jokes, magic tricks, and singing. Did you know that some of the very normal people you see around you every day are actually hilarious and quirky? All it takes is a few minutes of stage time to find out that the septuagenarian you see at church every Sunday is quite the stand up comedian.

Then out! Out to the grassy hill to run, tackle, cavort and to do face plant

after face plant.

It was another awesome evening and my only regret is that summer only has one July. “Only 364 days until the next one!” the Princess said.

Try not to boogie.

There is something about this baby. She has got the touch.

Despite having a temper like a Gila monster, she possesses an innate charm that can not be resisted. I can’t walk by without tousling her curls or sweeping a finger across her cheek. I could eat her up in three tasty bites.

I’m not the only one, either. Folks just want to oogy her and coo and tell her sweet things to make her smile. How does she respond to this affection? With an ice cold stare of suspicion.

You’d think her siblings would have a more healthy view of her. But in between bouts of trying to kill/tease/one-up each other, they pretty much let her have anything she wants. They might fuss a bit at first, but it usually ends up with an “oh, o-kay…” and she gets what she wants. If they don’t give over to charm, she gets out the big guns and screams. And then Mr. MG chuckles, because it’s so cute. And then we’re all pretty much back to adoring her.

Which she thinks is very normal. We are but her subjects, you see. And at her feet is right where we belong.

It’s a little weird to think it’s the middle of summer already. I mean, it’s only gotten up to the low eighties a couple of times and the strawberries are only now starting to appear at the farmer’s market. It feels a lot more like May.

But the reason I know that it’s summer for sure is that I am buzzing with the excitement of the next school year. Six months ago I would have seriously injured anyone who mentioned school planning. But now that I’m not in the trenches and digging in for a math or grammar onslaught, the fall seems bright and shiny and full of potential.

All the books are bought and labeled. Most of the lesson plans are in the computer. Now it’s just a matter of slapping the library laminate on the paperbacks and finishing lesson plans.

Oh! And then there is the preparation for my schooling in the fall. They no longer accept testing out of math 101, so I have to go back and pick it up. Whatever. The Princess and I can slog through basic algorithms together, and maybe I will be a little more patient with her frustration and crying. Perhaps she will even be willing to share the Kleenex.

All this gung-ho cogitating makes me nostolgic for the only good part of state schooling: the shopping. I loved the prospect of new supplies, new clothes, and a new desk. Remember Trapper Keepers? I kind of want me a Trapper Keeper.

And this backpack. (So what if I’m distance learning?)

And some new clicky erasers.

And that’s all I need…

Ah, fall.

Got a sec? I don’t. I am busy with the cat box.

Not that cat box. This cat box at The Infinite Cat Project.

See? Now you’re busy, too.

What would you do if you knew a long lost and very much missed relative was coming to your house? And bringing a wife you’d never met? If you’re me you wig right out, that’s what.

I hadn’t seen my uncle J for nearly twenty years. He was one of the few people in the family that would talk to my teenage self like an adult. The only one who said yes, an art major was a great idea and that no, I wouldn’t starve in an alley somewhere. He felt like a kindred spirit.

Zip forward to now. What with college, my moving, his moving, and life in general, we lost touch. We talked on the phone once when Mr. MG was stationed in San Diego and I saw pictures of his wedding, but that was pretty much it until he came up to visit last week. For the first time in a long time, I was zoinked right out of my skin. He is a capital-A artist and his wife is a professional photographer and I’m just this mama surrounded by books and kids and cats and chaos. It was hard to focus on the fact that - duh - we’re all family, here.

The visit was so awesome, though. They are fascinating, witty and have a high tolerance for chatty kiddos and aggressively friendly cats. They are just so cool that for once in my life, I’m a little tongue-tied about it. We really liked having them around. (Although the visit was awfully short. Hint, hint, you guys.) Hopefully it won’t be twenty more years before we meet again.

…takes on a whole new meaning when someone lights off giant whistling, popping, exploding, tree-rattling fireworks right behind your house. And you have a cat with very long talons sleeping on your lap.

The Bigs looked forward to their recital for weeks. Not one bit of stage fright, even on the big day.

 The Bear got to go third. He did a little Mozart Menuet (a very, very simplified version) and it went off without a hitch. Look at that face. He looks so sweet.

The Princess, playing the first movement of Fur Elise got to go second to last and she was so pleased. Her favorite slot is very last, since she was once told that the last performance is remembered the most. She is sweetly oblivious to sharing the spotlight. Sing it with me! Oh, Lord, it’s hard to be humble…

At the end comes the group shot. Aren’t they all gorgeous? Bright, shining, happy faces.

<

 
Except one.

He made that horrific face in every shot. Despite my hollering to cease and desist.

A little over three weeks ago L had her baby girl. We went over a few days later and man, she’s gorgeous. L and J even handed her over and I got to hold that little pink, sleepy bundle. She has so much hair! And she has her daddy’s face and her mama’s long, long fingers.

Funny though. For the first time, I didn’t die a little when I handed a baby back. I didn’t sigh and wish I had a set of teeny ears to nibble or cheeks to caress. In fact, it didn’t even occur to me until later that I spent most of the visit talking and snapping pictures. I’d been fairly okay with getting that couple of minutes of baby grabbing in and then I was done.

I think I’m done.

In the past, whenever I heard a friend say those words I would inwardly recoil. How could you ever be “done”? How could you ever give up the possibility of a fuzzy little head tucked against your neck at three AM? Or those itty bitty nibblet toes? Or the worshipful look in a baby’s eyes when they recognize your face? They couldn’t say it in words…they just knew. And now I think I know, too.

It feels like there are other things to do now. I want to finish school. Heck, I want to concentrate on the kids’ school. I want to learn Latin and conquer my gardens and paint my hallway and run until it feels good. I want a little more autonomy. 

Unless God has other ideas, I think I’m okay with an empty belly. I’m ready for nights of sound sleep and days devoid of diapers. (Even the cute newborn size with the belly button divot.) My eyes are less on the horizon and more on the ground immediately in front of me. And I’ve got three little sets of hands to hold as I go.

Have you ever gone through a period where you had a hard time finding your joy? Not like crushing depression or anything, just a vague sense of unease and discord. Dang, I hate that. SO. How’s about I count my blessings as a way to cover my ears and yell, “La-la-la-la, I can’t see you, I can’t hear you!” to the black dog sitting at my feet.

• The sun is out! Part of yesterday and all day today the sun has come out. More is forcasted all week. And - get this! - it’s supposed to get up the 70’s later in the week. Now that’s livin’.
• We are nearly done with school and will actually get a sizable summer break. All that’s left is history and as the Princess says, that’s not really work.
• My uncle J, who I have not seen in almost 20 years came to visit and we got to meet his awesome wife. That’s a whole other blog post, but suffice it to say that they are overwhelmingly cool. Like, really cool.
• Even though my gardens are half weeds, I am happy because we live in a part of the country where stickers don’t grow. Honest! No goat heads, no burrs. We can run in the grass barefoot without fear.
• What I thought was an overwhelmingly horrid allergy attack may partly be blamed on a cold. That would mean that half of what I’m going through would be short term. Never before have I welcomed a virus so wholeheartedly.
• It’s almost strawberry season. And Washington strawberries are unreal.
• Sibling rivalry rules! The Princess and the Bear are trying to outshine each other in piano practice.
• Didn’t have to clean up any cat yak this morning. No hairballs first thing in the morning (before coffee, even) is the start of a good day.

See? Good times.