Today, Tonight and Always

Posted by on Jan 4, 2013 in Mothering | 0 comments

Crud. So many days since I wrote anything on here. Sorry, kids. When you come back to read this and try to figure out what was going on, know that they were good things. Your parents’ business is taking off and we spend most of our free time working with fonts and codes and color pallets and installing apps on people’s phones. We love it and are so so happy to do it, but it means that other things, like documenting our lives here, have been temporarily halted.

I’ll catch you up on some stuff, though.

Greer’s eye surgery went well. Very well. Extremely well. Her eye is better. She’s been healthy. We are incredibly grateful.

The other two of you, though, have been sick about 90% of the time since Halloween. Somehow you both got well enough to go to Wisconsin over Christmas break. In true Christmas miracle form, the window of health closed the day we were leaving, but I’ll take those miracles any way He wants to deliver them.

Here’s what I really wanted to tell you about – our trip to Wisconsin. It was the best. You guys didn’t just soldier through a trip that wasn’t really about you, you jumped in with all your feet and enthusiasm.

Gideon, you went skiing. Well, you put skis on. And you wore them on the ski hill. But you clammed up when the instructor came over to help you learn and that was kind of the end of that adventure. BUT! Tubing? Tubing you loved with all your heart. I’m pretty sure you would’ve kept tubing until you couldn’t feel your body at all. You were begging us to let you go down the giant hill, but we wisely didn’t give in. Your mother rocked that tube run, however, and wishes she could go tubing every single day. Rebecca, who came with us, claims to have almost fallen asleep on the tow rope before, and although I didn’t get that relaxed on the ride up, it was equally enjoyable to the much faster decent. You were fearless out there and that is such a fun thing to see. You were rarely with me during the week, staying by dad’s side for the bulk of the time. I love how much you love him and there is no doubt that he loves and is properly proud of you. You slept in the top bunk. You wore your boots everywhere. You crushed us at Battleship. You killed off Gatorades with a vengeance. You sat through sessions with attentiveness and sang along when you knew the songs, even if you thought they were a little loud.

Piper, you loved playing in the cabin and taking naps. You don’t do that home. You don’t nap anymore and haven’t for quite some time, but the level of energy required to be around high school students and keep yourself together rapidly sapped your reserves. You got to play with your friend who lives in Wisconsin on the tiny tube run and talked about her for the next day. Of course, the best part of that day for you was eating chocolate and peanut butter ice cream afterward. I thought you guys might want hot cocoa since you were all so cold, but ice cream was too exciting to pass up. The boys had monster cookie and both asked for more when their bowls were empty. You shared yours with me, though. Most days you really are a fantastic giver. I love that about you, especially when it means that I’m eating my favorite ice cream with you. You hated wearing your mittens, so you didn’t. You didn’t particularly like putting a hat on, but I (most of the time) convinced you to put it on. You loved walking through the tunnel. You walked back to our cabin singing your song about how Poppy is a silly man (when he does a handstand, he falls into a trash can) and didn’t complain once about the hike. You wore the most adorable purple snow gear and I wanted to catch your sweetness in a butterfly net and pin it down on a photograph album to always remember your smiles and love.

Probably the best part about our trip was just being together all the time. Poppy was there to watch Greer during nap times, freeing me to hang out with you guys and the high schoolers. They, like you guys, are pretty easy to love. The lowest point was when your dad bruised/cracked/injured his ribs. He is still yelping when he coughs and probably will be for a few more weeks.

You’re both sick now. Colds. Sinus infections. Ear infections. Coughing. Exhaustion will do that when you have fragile little immune systems that seem to break down at the slightest exposure to disease. I’m praying you both feel like yourselves again soon, or at least before you get your pictures taken on Saturday.

School starts again on Monday. The house has yet to be rid of it’s dust from the flooring install. The laundry is laughing at me from the baskets and beds where it lays, clean and disheveled. A small stack of papers that Greer threw around the family room needs to be dealt with and there are dishes waiting to be done. There are always dishes waiting. Thank you for the gift of vacation at camp this year.

Here’s a look at camp (and us there at 3:11):

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