You Capture: Spring

I love spring. I'm fairly certain I've said this about eleven billion times, but I do. I love spring. If I could marry spring, I would.

While on the March of Dimes walk, I captured a lot of gorgeous spring pictures. And then baby Godzilla unleashed himself on my laptop, where I had, sadly, uploaded the photos and then deleted from my camera. Luckily, my husband recently acquired a laptop, so I was able to steal his while anxiously awaiting a replacement power cord for my laptop! Technology. It's wonderful (and confusing, if you're my husband), but kind of annoying in its breakability.

ANYWAY, I did manage to snap some pictures that are very, very spring to me. In the field behind our house, there is a ditch that has three lilac bushes growing in it. They're very big and since no one really lives by them, I consider them fair game for flower cutting. Cutting the flowers is a little treacherous since it's pretty overgrown and I, of course, wear flip flops to do it, but it's worth it for all the flowers I can put in glass vases around the house.

Aside from cropping, this next one is SOOC. Isn't it lovely what the spring sunshine can do?



And finally, this photo represents spring because after months of spending every night inside, we finally get to go outside and play at the park every night after dinner. We're all thankful for this, but no one is as thankful for the warmth that spring brings as Luke!

You Capture: Spring

Out

The realization that this sweet baby face has now officially spent more time on the outside than on the inside hit me just the other day.

When he was a newbie on this side of the belly, he did something his older brother never really did. He cried. A lot.

Whenever I wasn't feeding him, he'd make this face at me. And if I put him down to use the bathroom? He WAILED.
Now that he's a little more used to our world, he doesn't cry as much, but he still cries way more than his older brother did. And he sleeps way less. Sometimes I ask him if he even wants a younger brother or sister, because my goodness.

But then, I look at this face and THAT HAIR and think, how could I not want a million more of him?

Hope

When Shane and I first got married, my mom dug up a tiny lilac bush for me to plant at our new house. My parents have a whole row of mature lilacs in their orchard, so growing up, I would become almost intoxicated with the scent of these lilacs. In the spring, I would cut bouquets for my busdriver and teachers. This scent, a scent that I've yet to find decently replicated in a bottle, brings me back to childhood, to spring, and I swear, if hope had a scent, it'd smell like lilacs. If Heaven has a scent, it must smell like lilacs, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, and vanilla.
I babied that plant, checking on it throughout the winter, breathing a sigh of relief when the leaves would shoot up vibrant green every March, chastising Shane if he got too close to it with the mower. This has been a long week. Tommy has woken up every single night this week. This morning, he was awake at 3:30, just sitting in his crib, clapping and shouting happily to himself. I'm thankful that he's healthy and happy, but goodness, I wish he would just sleep. This morning, as I was climbing wearily into my car at 6:30, I noticed a flash of purple out beyond the fence. I blinked, cleared my eyes, and the flash of purple was still there.

Without even setting my things in my car, I ran to the back and yes, five years later, my baby lilac was blooming for us. Not caring who was watching and what it would do to my allergies, I buried my face in the blossoms and breathed deeply. I took a picture with my phone, and then before leaving, I buried my face again and breathed it all in. I got into my car with a little less weariness. Sure, I'm still tired and sure I'd rather not be at work, but the scent of lilac is still clinging in my nose and with it, the breath of hope.

She's Losing It

And in the first moment of her waking up
She knows she's losing it, yeah she's losing it
When the first cup of coffee tastes like washing up
She knows she's losing it, yeah she's losing it
She goes to the mirror to put on her stuff
She knows she's losing it, oh yeah she's losing it

Belle & Sebastian

Truth:
Sometimes I feel a lot like I'm losing it. I'm so torn. I don't want to leave my boys, and yet, sometimes I so badly want a break. I want to treasure every moment in the evening, but I also find myself wishing that I had more time after bedtime to clean and shower and then relax, instead of cleaning, showering, and collapsing into bed. I kick myself for losing my cool and raising my voice with my students because they are, after all, just 8th graders. And then I go home and kick myself for raising my voice with my toddler, because he is, after all, just a toddler. No matter where I am, I feel like I just can't get it right.
I want to be patient and kind when waiting in a long line at CVS, yet I also want to sigh impatiently because I just want to buy my milk storage bags and my bag of peanut butter M&Ms and GO HOME. But then, I also want to turn around and shush the woman behind me who IS sighing loudly and muttering under her breath, because sighing loudly is not going to make the line move any faster.
I want to be absolutely outraged at the state of public education right now, but also, I want (or maybe need) to leave work AT WORK and just not think about it if I don't have to think about it. I also want to tell you about a moment last week that changed me as a teacher and a person, but I can't really.
I want to do and be everything for everyone, but then, I also just want to sit on my couch and just BE.
I want to write something meaningful and witty and poignant in this little white box, but also, I just can't dig deep enough to get there.
Most of the time, I feel so happy and so content, but then sometimes I feel like something is missing. I don't know what that something is. I hope I can find it.

I honestly just don't think I've ever been so tired in my entire life.

Fresh

When I went through my photos from the last week, I realized that I took approximately 8,000 pictures of food when thinking of Fresh. Clearly, I have a problem, but I was able to narrow it down to just two food pictures.


Fresh donuts with my favorite guy. While Shane slept in Sunday, Luke, Tommy, and I snuck out to Dunkin' Donuts AND Starbucks. It was a great morning, with fresh donuts, fresh coffee, and lots of smiles.


Then, Sunday afternoon, I met Julie and Love for coffee, at which point I indulged in a very fresh cinnamon roll with brandy buttercream sauce. Yum. And wow.

On the rare moment that I think outside of FOOD for fresh, I think flowers for sure. I have this lovely little glass vase that I use for just one or two single flowers because it looks so pretty.

Don't you think?

Comfort Is...

Sleeping under Christmas lights because you're a little scared of the dark.

Balancing the silly moments with the quiet ones.


Knowing that you'll always have someone to love you, no matter what.


(Shane took the last photo, but he doesn't have a blog, so I'm totally posting it.)
You Capture: Comfort

Easter Times Four

The last four Easters have been my very favorite. Easter is my favorite holiday because it's beautiful and meaningful and lacks the materialism and stress of Christmas.

We hid eggs for Luke for the first time ever. Watching his excitement this morning as he discovered each one was wonderful, truly magical. Life has been so good lately. The "traumatic threes" have gotten a little easier, Luke and Tommy have been interacting in so many sweet ways, and I just love it. Every little bit.