Happy Kids

Happy Kids
Winter fun with the littles

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The Song Remains the Same...

The Song Remains the Same…
No matter your age or place in life, there is nothing more filling than the light of a child filled with pride. Kindergarten comes to an end but not without a celebration of the growth this past year held. I hurry with anticipation. I don’t want to be late. I have heard echoes of the songs in the evening as Ayla practices for her show. There are lots of parents and grandparents, friends and relatives all hoping for the best view. It’s odd. I typically have camera in hand and my phone as a backup. But I forgot both. And somehow I like this undisturbed focus I have on my daughter. She sees me and I see her and it is magic that lights our hearts.
She shyly glances down and around while nibbling gently on her bottom lip. I can sense her nervousness. The program begins and her shyness absolves in the joy she feels when she sings. This girl has soul!  She is animated and heartfelt. I watch her, as proud as a mom can be, realizing she is not a baby anymore. At one point I realize that all the other kids are turned to the middle watching the teacher, but not Ayla. Her body language and physical positioning are that of her mom being sung a solo just for her. I LOVE this! I remember feeling that same way with my mom. As soon as I found her in the audience, I would sing just for her. A momentary pang fills my heart at the thought that she is missing this. She would have been front row no doubt.  The program comes to a close with the spunkiest rendition of barnyard boogie I have ever heard. There’s my girl in front of them all…rooster hat on her head and feathers on her butt…boogieing away. The story may change a bit but the song remains the same. And it is a joy filled song.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Being Home…

What is the anchor that is always consistent in recollection? Spending more time in St. Louis, sleepy memories of childhood begin to awaken. I watch my kiddos grow in the reflection of the values and understanding that I was raised with, but infused with my own nuances and life experiences.  “You lived there?” I hear them say from the back seat. I look at the house where I grew up having spent 15 of my formative years within its walls. I look at the house and it appears hollow almost deserted. This can’t be the home that my parents tended with such care, the street that saw more games of kick the can and green ghost than it saw vehicles, the place where no matter what happened in my world, there was a sense of safety and acceptance.  I look upon the old house and realize the life that was so present within its walls was the abundant love and care my parents created and sustained. Ayla’s voice rings in my ears. “Mom, I love our house. I always want to live here.” I am reminded of the same love I carried for the house on Laurel Crest. As a child, I knew I too would raise my children there. But with growth comes change and I now realize my home is where my relationships live. It followed my mom until she passed, it still rests in St. Louis with my dad, it mingles with friends after a weekend away and it is being built daily in the life that unfolds with my kids. Being home is being where love resides.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Hidden Safety…

Where did the kids go, I asked? A chuckle drawing my attention to the massive old Cedar Tree at Crestwood Park. I forgot about the safety in its branches. So often as a child I played hidden by its long, tangled, low hanging limbs pretending it was my house, my barn, a palace, some magical place. I remember my mom saying the same thing as I disappeared beneath its cover. The kids were laughing and giggling and having so much fun climbing. They met some friends, kids they had never seen before, and together they all played. They played as I had as a child; the stories flowing from the center of tree. I love the flow and freedom as they write and re-write the events of the day. Unchartered they unfold organically with no sense of reality or logic. How do I relate this experience to my days of prescribed movements and daily plans. To allow imagination to reign in the forefront of my consciousness and let it guide my life as I move forward.  I think that sounds like a good goal. Let’s go play!