Everyday Life: Simplicity

Monday morning, and we've slept in -- three of us snuggled in the same one-foot space in the middle of our king-sized bed long after the sun jail-broke the horizon and land from the darkness of night.

Rested bodies and brains and hearts, we slip out of bed quietly, one at a time, so as not to wake the remaining sleepers until all eyes open naturally, ready to greet the day and each other.

Monday morning, and normally we're all mourning something lost somewhere between midnight Sunday and the breaking of dawn

be it the return of a very-loved daddy to his 9 to 5

or a return to drinking cold tea because there's not a moment's time to catch it while it's hot

or a return to the clock and following its face instead of following the lead of our bodies as we make our ways through the day.



But there's this summer rhythm --

kept in time by the bass drum of frogs humming in the ponds

in harmony by the sweet soprano of song birds

in balance by the sun stretching out its radiant fingers further into parts of the day that used to belong to the moon

in fullness of not just numbering but feeling even the smallest gifts of the Giver in open-palmed hands

and it even saturates Monday mornings.

It seems like a miracle of summer

but really

it's the miracle of simplicity.

Everyday Life: Summer Liberation

Today is G's last day of school, which means summer vacation begins this afternoon!

I thought about making a summer must-do list and checking adventures off one by one. 

But. 

I'm trying to declutter our lives, simplify our schedules and make enough space to burn with passion -- so adding more to-do lists to the fridge would be sort of defeating. 

Instead, I've been thinking about all the liberation summer brings.

So here's what you won't catch me doing this summer:

Copious Amounts of Cooking 

Yeah, I said it. I'm not going to spend a bunch of time in the kitchen preparing meals. Of course, we're not going to feasting on boxed dinners or processed food either. Rather, we'll be eating plenty of fresh food from the garden, grilling our meats and veggies and rarely turning on the oven. 

And if my kids want celery and almond butter for lunch with a side of blueberries? Cherry tomatoes right from the vine? Raisins and nuts?  Go for it, littles. Go for it. I'm not doing the food fight this summer. {But I will still be culturing my coconuts and veggies and giving the old Vitamix smoothie-blending workouts; I haven't totally lost my mind.}

Grocery Shopping the Middle Aisles

Speaking of the food fight that I'm not engaging in during meal times -- well, I'm not doing the food fight during snacks either, which pretty much means I'll be bypassing the middle aisles of the grocery store a large percentage of the time.

With so much fresh fruit and veggies, which both boys like one or both, we'll be snacking on easy-to-prepare snacks like strawberries and nuts, pears and peanut butter and carrots and hummus. Because we are NOT spending all summer debating which snacks are sometimes snacks and which ones are always snacks. 

Scheduling 

Even though we're involved in really good activities and we enjoy so much time that is scheduled and planned, we're not filling the calendar days this summer. 

Today, the sun was bright shining and beautiful and it was so nice to say yes to a friend's text message asking if we wanted to meet at the park in our neighborhood. When weeks are totally scheduled, though, it makes those kinds of impromptu fun dates impossible. 

I kind of want to see what happens when we wake up and just live the day. 

New Projects

My brain twin and I are masterminds of projects. But this summer, as soon as we wrap up the first-ever Little Lake County Green Guide, we're writing down ideas and tabling them until school restarts. Mostly, I've decided to say no to any new projects simply so I'll have some time to work on my long-awaited and already started e-book and its corresponding site. 

Sorting Socks

Now that I have my barefoot shoes for working out, I'm tossing all of our socks into a bin and saving them for cold weather; I've spent way too much time lately trying to tame the sock explosion.

And I'm allowing my children to buy and wear the croc shoes I've been adamantly against for several years. {Do I have the only kids in the free world who hate wearing sandals every day? Why do they prefer gym shoes?}

Fight the Daylight

Bedtime is a huge struggle during the summer months because of the lingering light -- this summer, so long as we don't have crabs scurrying around the house or yard, we're not enforcing lights-out bedtime at the normal 7:30-8:00 time period. 

And because we aren't scheduling, it's no biggie if we sleep later in the morning and eat breakfast at 10 a.m. 

So. What are you NOT doing this summer so as to live the simple life for a few months out of the year? Please share your ideas!

Bigger Picture Moment: What We Make It

As we drive away from our unanticipated long weekend at the lake, sniffles emerge from the backseat.

"Awww, G. Are you OK?" I ask.

"Yes," he whimpers. "But I don't want to leave Lake Cora today because it's my favorite place."

And what do you say to that when you yourself are trying to reign in all of the emotions about leaving such a perfect escape for another long nine months after having basked in the beauty of soft sand and clear, cool water and warm August sun for five spectacular days?



"We'll be back next summer, honey," I assure him.

Oh. Next summer. Leaving Lake Cora for the last time every August stings because our final farewell means that summer is coming to a rapid close soon. And while I love fall with its harvest and serene beauty, summer makes me feel most alive. Consequently, every year, I mourn its passing.



"But it's such a long time," he softly cries. "And I love it here."



Agreeing with him, I try to think of something to say that would offer him comfort and reassurance.

"And, mommy {sniff, sniff}, I'm leaving all the fun at Lake Cora, and that makes me really sad."



"No, G.," I say, "that's not true. We'll have lots of fun this fall. And even today. We're stopping for a special mommy and boys' lunch date. We'll make our fun happen if we don't feel like there is any."

Brief silence floods the car momentarily, and I wonder if I really mean what I so passionately just stated. Before I can say anything else, he finally agrees:

"Ok, we'll make our own fun."

I promise aloud that we will while silently vowing to uphold my end of the deal as the trees lining the lake fade into the horizon in my review mirror, holding summer hostage again for another year.

"We'll just make the fun happen," he affirms again.

I'm sure he's repeated it mostly as self-reassurance, but I imprint his words on my heart, shift my eyes from the review mirror to the front dash, breathe in the open road that stretches out across the hilly terrain before before us and give the gas pedal a slight push as we press into horizon.

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Everyday Life: Monday is groaning

I could almost hear a collective groan resounding from my cramped bed early this morning when the boys and I peeled open our eyelids and found a a house that was void of the ever-popular daddy.



After having him at our every beck and call during our three-day weekend at the lake, this Monday after even a mini-vacation felt long, arduous and a little empty.



It felt especially so, this particular Monday morning, because not only was it void of daddy but it was also void of Buba, Grandma, Aunt Christy and a vast, sprakling lake nestled against fine Michigan sand, which just happened to be conveniently situated immediately outside of the cabin's front door.



And so I found myself trying to grant extra grace, extra patience, extra understanding for the long, sad faces that were bemoaning our return home after a too-short escape to the beach.



Because if I'm having trouble holding back my displeasure and I'm 28 years old with the ability to reign it all in, I can't even imagine how hard it is for preschoolers and toddlers, who wear their hearts on their sleeves, to put on their happy faces.

But it seems as though we've survived, seeing as it's 4:30 in the afternoon, and I'm not hiding in the bathroom, rocking back and forth on the floor mumbling something about wine and chocolate while the boys run amok through the hallways threatening mutiny on each other and me.

And we even managed a few smiles -- granted they were induced by things like a Starbucks run and morning at Vacation Bible School and Toy Story 3.

But I think that counts when it's Monday and everyone involved in Monday is sighing a collective post-vacation groan.


After this, though, can you blame them {us? me!} after three whole days and nights of this?

365 Photo Project: Week 39

Summer is my favorite season for capturing pictures.
The wardrobe {or lack thereof!}


the activities






the lingering light




the lucious, vibrant landscape


and the feel, the attitude of this season




It just all spells out photo magic.