five things, september 9th edition

1. I think that for certain members of the family, it was a pretty good week.
2. I think that I am officially clumsy. I fell again this past weekend. This time coming down our rain-slicked front steps. Several things were similar from the last time I fell: water+flip flops. Apparently a bad combination. Thankfully this time I didn't hit my head. Just my back and left hip, leaving some lovely bruises and making for interesting sleeping and sitting this week. Neel and I are hoping that I'm getting all of my falling out of the way before I'm old.
3. I think that car salesmen do a lot of sitting around and waiting. And I decided that because of this they feel compelled to make us do a lot of sitting around and waiting.
4. I think, in honor of my friend Anthony (Fern Marie), I will be making this recipe sometime next week. Does this sound familiar, Fern?
5. I think that this weekend I will be reading this book and this book. Because I remember, and remembering is the absolute least I can do. As John Kennedy said, "We do these things not because they are easy, but because they are hard."

what we did

The nature of gifts change as our children grow, and we're not buying boxes of Legos for birthday gifts anymore...sniff. For some reason this birthday felt different (and fear not, I'm already worried about how we'll handle THIRTEEN), what with turning twelve and entering 6th grade and all. At Callum's school it's not middle school, but oh lordy it's close. Anyway. This year felt milestoney somehow and we wanted to honor what a big deal turing tween seemed to be.

We've been joking for years that when Callum became a teenager he'd move into our third floor attic, fondly referred to as the "soft stairs." Callum named it when we moved in because it's the only room in our house that has carpet. But let's face it folks, I don't think he'll ever sleep up there.

What he might do however, is play up there.

And I guess that's what I mean when I say that things have changed. He plays differently now. Friends running in and out, the Wii or X-box on. So maybe a growing up kind of boy needs a growing up kind of space for himself.

Trouble is, our attic has been looking like this.

  I apologize for the iPhone photo. And I have to admit that this picture was taken not at the beginning of the clearing out process, but part way through it. Pretty scary, huh? We've just been throwing stuff up into that cave for years. I swear I could feel the weight of all that crap just bearing down on me, you know?

So what did we do on our summer vacation?

We cleaned out the attic! We knew we couldn't manage this as a surprise, and we wanted Callum to be involved in every step of the way. As soon as he picked the paint color (Pier 14 by Valspar at Lowes), we started the big clear out. After that the big paint. As soon as the walls were covered, we kicked Callum out to do the rest and surprise him on his birthday.

We still have some work to do. Hook up the X-Box and a DVD player, touch up some paint. And isn't Callum's paint choice inspired? I never would have gone in that direction, but it totally makes the room. We had red velvet birthday cake and watched the Phillies on the donated flat screen (thanks, Tyler!). I'm so happy about this space for him. The Wii will stay downstairs, so hopefully we'll still see him sometimes, but in the meantime, this is good. Really good.

And in case you thought we'd had enough celebrating around here, today's my mom's birthday! Happy Birthday, Mom!

twelve

On September 6, 1999 at around 4:30 in the morning we went into labor to deliver this baby. And at 12:34 a.m., in the earliest hours of the 7th, he took his first breath on this earth. He's about three days old in this picture. Have I ever told you that story? The story of Callum's birth? It's a birth story like any other: thrilling to us, less so to most others. Most significant is that he came two weeks early, and my mom once characterized his personality as being much like his arrival. He was in a hurry, he got stuck and he needed help getting un-stuck. Not much has changed in twelve years. When they put him on my chest, he gazed up at me with a look on his face like, "Oh yeah, there you are." I still see that look in his eyes sometimes.

Twelve.

I can barely believe it. He's suddenly a man-child. Still very much my child.

Callum at twelve is a delight. Mostly. This surely must be true of any child.

We've definitely had our rough patches this summer. We're all growing into understanding this pre-adolescence thing, I think. There are times when being with him wears on me like an uncomfortably new pair of shoes. Rubbing. Raw. And yet suddenly, his humor will spark through the mire or his need will come to the fore, and I'm reminded that he's both growing up and still so young.

He's so very much himself. He still loves dressing up. He still loves science and history. He still loves to read and watch movies over and over. He's still so well spoken and polite. He makes eye contact and shakes hands. I tell him that I never ever worry about sending him into the world, because I know he will always be respectful and thoughtful and a polite young man. He's still one of the bravest people I know. Always willing to try new things if he's developed an interest in them, and he's passionate about the things he's interested in.

He loves dogs in general and his own three quite fiercely. We joke that he got Lucy, Thea and Violet instead of siblings! Last night, just after the clock had turned to his official birthday, I awoke to a smiling Callum, right in my face. He could hardly contain his glee. "Guess who came to see me?" The dogs sleep in crates at night, and some how Lucy-the-beagle's hadn't been latched completely. Like any smart hound, she made her way right to her boy's room and waited for him to wake up. It was altogether fitting that she was the first to wish him Happy Birthday.

Every time I bemoan the loss of that little starfish hand that had to grasp my single finger or swear I'm going to put a brick on his head to keep from getting any higher than chin height on me, he'll say something or do something that displays his developing maturity, and I know that it really does keep getting better from here.

Happiest of birthdays, my own sweet lovely. And many, many happy returns. Momma loves you.

dominion

When we moved to the Little Gray House (eight years ago now), I bought all sorts of gardening books. It was our first time not living in an apartment or condo, and I thought gardening might be my thing. Turns out, not so much. I like being outside. I like plants and planning things for the yard, but I'm not passionate about it. I don't have the knack. Neel does. It's his place. It took him awhile to figure it out, but our yard and building our garden has become his passion. I was all too happy to hand over the reins. Turns out I'm the house person. We tend to do things pretty much in conjunction with each other (e.g. In Ikea last week I desperately wanted a gorgeous cream shag rug, but bowed to his better judgement and didn't get it. We do have three dogs and an almost 12 year old boy, you know.), and I don't think there's a thing in the house that he hates or a thing in the yard that I don't love. But still, the yard his his space and the house is mine. Where we each call the shots. Where we each have dominion.

That doesn't mean I don't get to come play along sometimes. Right now, Neel is in the process of building us a patio, based on an idea from this blog. In addition to the 2x2 squares (and lordy there are a lot of those to pour), he decided to also pour four 4x4 squares in the center of the patio. My dad helped pour the first, which was clearly the most arduous (sorry, dad!), and our neighbor Tyler showed up in time to pour the second (it went a lot faster...sorry dad!).

Yesterday, Callum managed to go golfing just in time to pour the third. That left me.

Each 4x4 requires about 12 or 13 bags of concrete, which Neel pours one at a time. That part comes after  excavating and placing and leveling the mold. I helped dig. I helped square the mold and level it too. Then I was in charge of watering the concrete and scraping it out of the wheel barrow into the mold. It didn't take long for us to get a rhythm going, and it was fun! Hard work, sure, but so satisfying too. The concrete part took us less than an hour, and all told, I think we worked on it about an hour and a half. Not a bad Labor Day's labor.

Three down with one more (big one) to go. It's exciting to see Neel's vision take shape, and it felt so good to be working on it together. I think we make a good team.

five things, september 2 edition

1. I think I'll be glad when the first few weeks of school are behind us and we're well and settled into a new routine.
2. I think I might celebrate the start of a new year with a book-buying orgy of my own. And curtains. Even though Neel doesn't want them.
3. I think I'm finally up to admitting that I'm not loving my dining room very much these days. Fortunately we have a plan. And a new lamp.
4. I think I'm pretty proud of my boy this week.
5. I think it's interesting that Neel and I are both eating more mustard lately.