Fireflies and Fairy Gardens

From the crack of the bat to the perfect toast of the mallow, summer is here in all of its backyard lightning bug catching glory.

Growing up in the middle (literally) of a cornfield in Nebraska I enjoyed the croak of the bullfrog and the glow of the lightning bugs each summer, but it wasn't until recently that I realized some people don't know of such soothing summer sights and sounds. They consider lightning bugs (fireflies) to be mythical creatures. The stuff of little girls dreams. 

This weekend we spent a beautiful summer evening enjoying food, cold ones and awesome friends. When the sun fell below the horizon and the glow of fireflies lit the yard Ella was as excited as she is every night. I told her I'd get her a container to catch them. "You can catch them? How?" My Cali-girl gal-pal was astonished. A. Ston. Ished. "Seriously? You can keep them in a jar?" 

To me it seemed her daughter was about to learn one of the greatest joys a kid can imagine at dusk of a summer evening. Catching fireflies, giving them shelter in an old Ball jar and letting their soothing twinkle lull her to sleep. 

That night we made do with a clear solo cup and some tin foil, but tonight, in preparation for little Emma's trip back to Cali to see her cousins, we made her a very special lightning bug jar. A full quart size, complete with air-holes in the lid and a pretty fabric swatch to go under the ring. A perfect gift for this little lady.                                                      

Heavenly.

It got me to thinking about the other people in my life that live far from The Good Life. My brother-in-law sheds his shoes and socks, rolls up his jeans and runs through the grass like a kid when he gets back to Nebraska in the summer. Green grass. Soft grass. Grass between the toes.                            

Heavenly.

We are in the planning zone for this summer's greatest week. A week at the big lake in Nebraska. Big Mac. Lake McConaughy. 20 miles of shoreline. 35,700 acres of surface area at full-capacity. Waterskiing, fishing and tubing. Beach camping, campfire pies, and s'mores. Smoky air, crackling logs and waves on the beach.

Heavenly.

We are blessed. Richly and in many ways. We have a lake house we can visit anytime complete with fishing, kayaking and relaxing. Ella and I enjoy a nice kayaking excursion on a calm clear morning. She takes her sketch paper and artist supplies, I take my thoughts, and together we relax and enjoy nature. By the time we get back to grammy and grampy's lakehouse she has created a book of God's creatures we've seen. All the way from the birds in the sky down to the family of fish under the logs where the turtles live. I have a clearer mind and calmer heart.

Heavenly.

New life abounds all around us here in the heartland. Young calves and colts litter the pastures and sometimes the littlest of friends need a helping hand. One single, solitary set of 12 hours offered us two occasions to engage in Rescue Missions last week. Ella's affection for all critters brought us to the rescue of a family of ducks at the park. Their wayward travels took them away from the pond, through the playground and into the street. Momma seemed confused and the downy little ducklings hadn't a care in the world. But my little Ella cared enough for all of them, so we ushered them gently back to the grass and safety.




Kittens? Did someone see kittens?

"Meow meow" (Yes.) "Meow-meow-meow" (Can we keep them?)
(If you know us well, you know that Ella spent a portion of a preschool-age year communicating primarily in kitten. I am now fluent.)

"No. We live in town, cats belong outside and your dad is allergic to cats." (Solid argument, no?)

Lord help us, there were kittens by the side of the driveway to the lake house early on Wednesday morning.

Lord help us even more that they were still there, seemingly abandoned, that evening.

Commence Operation Kitten Rescue. After a long day of summer day-camp, swimming and running around, we agreed to come to the rescue of the kittens. Right after supper. The kids and I loaded up on the four-wheeler and went to check on the kitties. A container of milk and milk-soaked bread in-hand we coaxed those curious but scared little kitties out of the brush and up to the buffet we offered. My defenses weakened by the pure innocence and adorable nature of kittens and my Ella, I agreed that we should find a large box and give the kittens shelter for the overnight. As we departed in search of a box a momma cat came across the road, but gave little notice to the kittens. We watched, assuming we would find out one way or another if this was their momma. Her lack of interest made me wonder still, so we fetched the box and extra milk. Upon our return, momma was licking the bowl clean and heading off down the road. Ella quickly realized these kitties did indeed have a momma and the dam broke...

W-I-D-E open. Gushing tears of heartbreak. Never has a child been so heartbroken by the existence of a live-and-well animal. Ever.

Mission... over.

Ella's take on the whole thing?
Kittens are heavenly.
Not getting to keep them is heart-wrenching and painful. So painful only grammy can make it better.

As we rounded the bend at grammy and grampy's farm that night (a quick drive from the lake house) lightning bugs grasped Ella's attention and tugged her focus away from the kittens (briefly). After capturing four to keep in her bedside jar she snuggled in for the comfort and compassion that only grammy can give.

As the snuggling soothed the kitten-induced drama, talk turned to the fairy camp she was attending that week. Fairy wings on day one. Wands on day two. Flower crowns on day three. Fairy houses on day four. Tea and cupcakes and fairy butterfly feeders on day five.

If she didn't get enough at camp, she's filling her bucket at home this week! Seeing how infatuated and enamored she was with all the fairy-goodness of that week's camp I made a quick stop at Hobby Lobby to gather fairy-approved supplies and arranged a fairy house-making afternoon with her best girlfriend from school.

My garage looks like Pixie Hollow exploded, but these girls had a blast!

For me, this is the season.

Baseball games & s'mores.

Green grass & croakin' bullfrogs.

Downy ducklings & cute-cute kittens.

Campfires & lake life.

Fireflies and Fairy Gardens.


Heavenly.

Kindergarten Besties

Oh those silly kids. For almost the entire school year I've been bringing home a spare kid each day and dropping him in his driveway on our way home. The conversations from the cheap seats never cease to entertain. Topics range from school-related activities to weekend plans and toilets (always toilets) to horrid knock-knock jokes.

For weeks I've been hearing "Next time guys, we have to be way funnier. Way, waaaaaay funnier."
And I've heard it all.
"Knock knock"
"Who's there?"
"Interrupting cow"
"Interrupting co...
"Moo"

"What did the momma tomato say to the kid tomato?"
"ketchup"
(Because they were going for a walk and the kid was falling behind...)
That one took Ella about a month to finally "get" when she saw it on her own milk carton at lunch. Finally.

"How do you make a witch itch?...Take away the w!!!"
**Chirp. Chirp.**
(Again, I had to explain that one for a few weeks)

So yesterday they chatted about being the teacher and the teachers being the students.

Hilarity, my friends. Hilarity.

What really gave me a bit of the giggles was when they decided they would not let them have class everyday but make them take a field trip every. single. day.
Like a field trip is a punishment?
"So their legs would get tired too."
Oh yes, walking the zoo for a day is horrid.

So as I reflect on this year of Kindergarten convo-induced giggles I wonder how things will be now that they are headed on to 1st grade. They've discussed the matter at length, with deep-seeded concerns over the three of them losing each other. Or two of them being together and one being left out. Because, you see, next year they may not all be in the same class.

Ella-Barrett-Emma - Last week of Kindergarten - May 2015

The Three Amigos. B-E-E. Triple Threat. Barrett-Emma-Ella. Whatever you call them, call them tight. This trio seems to have clicked and it didn't take long. So now after a full school year of being a great group of friends they want to plan summer get-togethers. Sleepovers. Backyard parties and to be friends for all of life. To never forget each other.

So during their whole 70 days off from school for the summer I see playgrounds and backyards and tents and firepits and sleepovers in their future. Because each day, at the end of the day, I see hugs and loves and "goodbye's" and "see you tomorrow's" that are genuine and true. I see friends that want to be forever friends. And I want to help foster those relationships and help them grow. Because these kids are good kids. Their parents are good people. They are the kinds of kids I want my baby girl hanging with. Learning from. Being herself with. Because they are accepting of each other just the way they are.

I grew up in a town where you were always in the same class with the same people unless someone moved away or was new to town. My choices for friends were pretty limited. My husband grew up in Omaha and has had the same core group of friends since middle school. Middle school, ya'll. In a town this size??? I'm amazed.

Then I realized why. Do you know who my mother-in-law celebrates her birthdays with? The moms of those friends. Those relationships thrived not only because those kids enjoyed each other, but their parents did as well. They spent time together, they helped cultivate and then tended to those relationships. Our kids, at this age, don't have ample opportunity to get together with their friends until a parent organizes and transports. I've been slacking in this department for the last year. I was tired. I was tired of calling and asking and planning and transporting and scheduling and cleaning up and refereeing and doing. I was tired.

Now they've reached an age where there is a lot less action needed on my part. Ask, plan, transport. Pretty simple. Maybe feed a kid or two here and there. Easy-peasy. So this summer that's what I'll do. I'll ask and plan and transport. I'll supervise. And referee when necessary. I'll love and hug and feed and entertain. I'll do what needs to be done to keep these kids together this summer.

I want Ella and her friends to remember this as the greatest summer ever... until the next summer. The summer when they could get together with friends and continue to feed those friendships, hoping they will continue to bloom in the fall and winter when new friends enter and another school year might separate them. And if during the course of time she decides those relationships aren't the best for her it will be her decision, not mine. It won't be my fault that B-E-E doesn't exist anymore. I will have done what I could to foster and nurture those relationships she has found so easy and fulfilling and enduring this year.

Kindergarten is just the start and I know that next year there will be new friends. Next year there will be more discoveries and better jokes and deeper backseat conversations during carpool. Next year there will be 1st graders in my van. Next year they'll learn more about who they are and who their friends are. They'll grow into bigger kids and stronger individuals. They'll move forward and I'll be there to help maintain the friendships they value and cherish.

So here's to a wildly successful Kindergarten year full of backseat conversations that fill the entertainment quota for my afternoons. Here's to next year's 1st grade backseat conversations.

Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Boo!
Boo hoo?
Don't cry... it's just a knock-knock joke!

Giving Kids Creative License

I have a couple of creative types in my house.

Big Sister E is a true creative spirit turning anything into something. Tonight she interrupted my workout to let me know she could make water change color just by saying a magic word. What she'd done was paint the outside of a can, then gave her brother the job of turning on the water and plugging the drain while she ran the painted can under water. Voila! Purple water. Creative. Capital C.

Little Brother C is creative in the "I'm going to find a way to tinker with this to get it to do what I want" kind of way. Last week he was up on the playset with a jump rope and laundry basket. He came in asking for carrots. His plan? A bunny trap. Set the carrots on the ground, hide in the playset, attach the basket to the jump rope and lower it (silently) onto the unsuspecting rabbit as it noshed on the carrot buffet.

When these to minds get together, watch out world, something special is coming.

Recently I've been thinking about how much time I spend entertaining my kids. And the verdict? Well, not so much. Some may say I'm a lazy parent for not engaging in a multitude of activities with my kids. My response? I don't think they need it! Sure, they ask me to play tag, draw a picture, play a game, read a book, and the usual gamut of kid-type requests, and most often I am good with that. But sometimes, "I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request". (Thank you, Pirates of the Caribbean.) And they usually deal with it just fine. Most often, they don't ask for much in the Requires Entertainment department. They like to just make things up and accessorize with all of their stuff. Common activities include "Fluffy Fluff" (he's a puppy, she's the owner), picture-making and building bird-watching huts.

A few days ago they asked to play on the front steps. Not my first choice for a play location, but since I was in the general vicinity and could offer sufficient supervision I gave them the go-ahead. When I went outside to check on them this is what I found...

 Yup, you guessed it. That's a roly-poly house, ya'll! Complete with a play area and dandelion accents!

Dad gets in on the creativity action much more often than I do. He seems to have that extra store of energy specifically for entertaining kids that I just don't have in the evening. Barbies were the activity of choice this night and boy did those boys have fun!

Let me assure you, it was very manly fun. Full of battles and motorcycles and stunts!

He even made them an authentic pirate treasure chest, complete with false bottom for hiding treasure. Last summer they decided on their pirate names. This year Captain One Sock and Captain Butterfly are even more authentic.


Rainy days? They wanted to go play on a rainy Saturday a week or so ago. "Why not?" became my philosophy for the moment and I let them go...




And they had a great time! I didn't ever ask the thought-process behind taking the toy box lid, Hotwheels storage box, bandana and straw hat outside, but this is what they came up with...

a ship?
a pirate ship?
a pirate ship with bad guys and the cracken ready to attack?

Your guess is as good as mine, my friend. As good as mine.

This one. She gets all sorts of silly sometimes. Rain, bubbles and alone time and she's golden, let me tell you! She was singing and dancing and blowing bubbles and having a grand old time! 

What's the point of all this rambling? Well, I've noticed that sometimes kids don't need constant entertainment. No TV, no electronic games, no planned activities. Just time to play. Be creative. It seems that many of my friends that fall into my decade for age had similar experiences as children. We were allowed to make our own fun. Play in the dirt, splash in the puddles, imagine new worlds and pretend we were anything we wanted to be. Swings were rocket ships. Laundry baskets were bunny traps.

This last New Year's Eve we celebrated with a few other couples and all the accompanying offspring. Instead of planning out their evening's activities down to the minute, we let them enjoy each others company. There was a school full of students and teachers. Games of basketball and tag. Screaming, giggling, fighting and fun. Random, spontaneous, creative and imaginative fun. And they loved every second.

With the decline of importance being placed on the arts in our school systems I find it to be more necessary than ever to encourage authentic creativity at home. I'm so thankful E goes to a school where art and music are valued. Where theater club starts at grade four. Where creative licenses are issued to students on a daily basis. 

Last month I decided to undertake a major project in our storage room. I'm creating an art room for E to feel free to create as she pleases. While progress has been slow recently I know that once summer arrives I'll have the time to dedicate and the help I need from her to get it completed to her liking. A place for her. A room of her own with paints and crayons and markers and glue. Glitter and paper and stickers. Music and floors to spill on guilt-free. Walls to display her work and be proud of her accomplishments. 

I want to encourage the kids to put their creative licenses to full use. To realize their full potential and not be afraid of judgement by the outside world. To create and share and be authentic. To know that their original ideas are valued. 

My challenge to you is to turn off the tv, the electronics, the planned activities and encourage your kids to make their own fun for a week. I know that when summer break arrives my kids won't be able to get the back door open fast enough each morning to launch themselves straight into their own world. A world of endless possibilities limited only by their boundless imaginations. 

How will you encourage your child's use of his or her creative license?

The Friendship of a Lifetime

Seems to me that the term "friend" has come to be used pretty loosely lately. What happened to acquaintances and coworkers? Just because you know someone's name and see them regularly at functions and events does that make you "friends"?

I spent the evening last night with my best friend, just doing what we do. She's been my constant since we were old enough to play in a playpen, ride in a wagon, bathe in a bathtub and toddle through the grass together. We rode bikes, played school, made mud pies and dug in the sand together. When her dad said, "you dig the hole, I'll make it into a pool" we got out the shovels and started digging together. There might still be a 5'x3'x2' hole out behind the tree line of their old house, just waiting for kids to come back and make it big enough to give it life as a pool.

We went to school together... all the way through college. We've been through marriages, divorces, moves, more moves, new marriages and babies together. My kids call her "Auntie Erin" and it fits. It's appropriate. She's been by my side for all of life, even when there's a distance of several hundred miles between us. While we've had distance in the way of miles, the distance between our hearts has seldom been measurable.

We aren't and weren't the do-everything-together-always type of friends though. Our early years were spent physically close and built a bond that can never be broken. During the school years we attended different schools, but still maintained the bond with the distance of only our driveways separating our homes. High school took us down different roads, but they always merged at several points along the way. She was an athlete, I cheered her on. We shared an extreme dislike for track and enjoyed an empty school each week during track season. We worked together full-time during the summers and after school during the school year as activities allowed. We were connected the way small-town kids are. You couldn't really avoid anyone, even if you tried.

With all this close-quarters and connectedness you'd think there would have been fights. Catty, selfish, drama-filled fights. Nope. We've only had one fight during our 37 year relationship. ONE. Single. A disagreement over something trivial and ridiculous in the elementary-school years. The fight lasted at least a full 24 hours. I'm sure. I'm pretty sure an invitation to go on a bike ride down the dusty dirt roads ended that spat.

It occurred to me recently why I think our relationship is so strong to withstand 37 years and hundreds of miles of distance. Honesty and love. Gentle honesty and genuine love. Rarely have we been mean to one another (and never in adulthood). If one of us decides to try something new, the other is supportive and offers encouragement. Always. If she wants to run a 1/2 marathon, I'll call her up and give her support. I'll even start training to run a 10k with her when she decides she wants to do the 1/2 again as a mom of two under two. (I call it CrAzY, and she knows it.) When she realizes how CrAzY it is, we move on to something more manageable. No hard-feelings. No harsh words of youcouldn'thackit condemnation. Just relief that I don't have to keep running anymore!

So we accept each other for who we are. We can't help it. We grew up together and we'll grow old together. Though we wish we lived closer again, the idea of houses across the dirt road isn't altogether realistic anymore. When we travel to see each other, the important stuff isn't the "what should we do?" but the sitting and chatting and visiting and being together. It's the taking of kids to the park. It's the recreating of our old photos together by putting our daughters on a tire swing. It's the laughs and reconnecting and time spent just being us. Just doing what we do. Whatever it might be.