May Days

Writing has been unusually elusive. Life continues to ebb and flow. I note it in snippets.

Connor turned 5 this month. His last day of preschool is tomorrow, yet he still sucks his now-flattened thumb. He converses much more but still in a sing-song voice to reassure me that my baby is still my baby.

Connor is 5 years old!

Making dinosaur cookies for his 5th birthday

Ethan now has more hits than strike outs in baseball. That alone should cause the atheist to ponder. đŸ™‚ Even though the games still feel torturous at times when he squints and leans away from an approaching ball, we are most likely signing him up again for fall ball. And we do so with a clear conscience and willing kid. His last day of 1st grade is today! I need to keep a book of his constantly entertaining quotes.

Driving Mr. Ethan on his last day as a 1st grader

Driving Mr. Ethan on his last day as a 1st grader

Mike is playing softball with coworkers. Every now and then I will see him touch his chest. We are worlds away from the pain of 2012 but may never see him at 100%. We will take it though! Sometimes life is so normal now that I wonder if we are too comfortable or how it might adversely affect our spirits. We are grateful for normalcy and are able to intercede more knowledgeably for those whose lives are far from it. These days Mike has discovered his Home Improvement calling and is intimately familiar with Lowe’s to help maintain this home.

Speaking of home, who would have thought I would be buying bird seed, a hummingbird feeder, counting rose blooms, and contemplating composting?! Plants still shudder in my presence, but maybe my kiss of death on living things will change with all else that has changed significantly in the past year.

One of MANY roses from our back yard

One of MANY roses from our back yard

Speaking of significant changes, yes, I am still running. And yes, it is still torture. From the comfort of my couch, I will think, ‘You know that you have done over 4 1/2 miles before (that one time), so why not build up to 5? Why not extend your route?’ I may even think those thoughts as I step out the door to my journey of pain. However, in no time, I am panting, hating life, and wondering how I can shorten my route before I collapse? It does not get better or easier so why do I continue to do it!? The answer may have something to do with how many Oreos and kettle cooked chips I ate last night.

The school year is ending here this week. Even though we missed the first three weeks here, they would not let my boys stay three weeks longer! Summer is soon upon us.


Sorry, I should have warned you to cover your poor ears. I was telling Mike that I will most likely regret not signing the kids up for any camps and that this will be a long summer. I might have said, “How will I survive?” 24-7, me and the Beckett boys. As I joke (sort of), I do know that these days are precious and sweet (even with all the whining, fighting, and crying). I do know that the summer is an opportunity to pour into these growing young men. I do look forward to lazy days and fun days (and making sure they do some workbooks like Mike has asked me to over and over again).

Bring on summer! My arsenal is full.

Bring on summer! My arsenal is full.

Last week I suddenly remembered our “bunk bed parties” that we had done with Ethan when he first learned to sleep in the bunk bed post-crib. I don’t know when they stopped happening, but they had been absent for years until a few nights ago. After our bedtime routine, we all four climbed into the bottom bunk together. I asked the boys what their favorite part of the day was. They each answered. We lay there together in silence, and I felt time stand still for a few precious moments.

Life ebbs and flows. This summer may have me going through the wine cases a bit too quickly, but it will also have those times where I am thankful that there is a pause for heartfelt appreciation for the goodness of now.

The boys in wasp-fighting gear

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One Response to May Days

  1. Choon Kim says:

    Lovely, delightful and wonderful! mom

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