Typically atypical

Legend-ary

"Did you know our school is named after a legend? Literally, a legend!"

Coming soon to a medical office near you

Trumpcare's convenient back alley entrance

The kids are growing like weeds

Of course, you knew that. Didn't need me to tell you.

Annabel has braces. And boldness. And brains.

And we are entering that crossroad.

Sometimes I close my eyes and hold my breath just to feel the pulse running through my ears.

I pretend it's the sea.

Always changing.

She's given up dance and taken up theater. She has a voice coach as well as a basketball coach.

She no longer plays at dress up. She's now a professional.

She'll be T-H-I-R-T-E-E-N in a few weeks (13?howisthatpossible?)

I've rummaged through picture files here on the fingerprint stained laptop I somehow managed to wrestle away from her brother, but I couldn't find much of anything recent to show you.

She is more her own now, in ways that are not mine to tell.

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Silas is more of himself, as well, now that he's the grand old age of nine.

His body hasn't yet caught up to his feet, but it doesn't matter his size.

These days he takes the stairs two at a time, wearing a santa hat and last year's pajamas.

Legs visible from the calves, he claims he's never outgrown things.

Beatific, barely bespectacled boy, who sings in the shower and doesn't care who's listening.

He'll hug you if you ask him. Gladly.

But, no pictures, please. 

And he'll tell you about his dreams: That one day he will be bigger than a French car.

So many things ...

Summer has come ... but the time I thought I'd have to fritter about and catch up here hasn't so much materialized.

Another patchwork of my best intentions.

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Today is Amah's birthday.

The kids and I visited. A tiny little party with immediate family ... but no picture.

For the first time in years she was able to eat meals made of solid food: An omlette and toast, baked fish and boiled beans, birthday cake. She is happy and ravenous. Progress.

"I think her brain is getting more composed. They are really helping her get better here," observed Silas from behind his slice of cake, which he was working on digging out on the tender morsels from its thick frosting shell.

Annabel's eyes teared up. Mine stayed dry. Progress.

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The cat is growing in her sleep.

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Annabel would prefer that her mom drives faster and her dad drives slower.



Silas seems to be growing every time I check the rearview mirror.

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Both Jed and I have done fun stuff ...



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We're staying busy with running ...



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And plays ....



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And enjoying Mothers and all their Natures ... whenever we can.