Listening to: Crazy Love by Michael Buble
Sometimes music is the best medicine. I'm a little sensitive in the auditory department, so I tend to forget about music until I have the opportunity to just sit and really listen. We recently(ish) procured a couple of Sonos hi-fi speakers and I just have to say - they are entirely worth the investment. This bitty white tower of remarkable projection and sound quality is life to me some days.
It was 80 degrees here today. I found myself sweating as I vacuumed out our Buick van. Vacuuming is a chore that I do not enjoy, and I have complained that none of the car washes here have free vacuums. It's not that I am unwilling to pay for the service, it's more about the fact that I *never* carry change. It's ironic to me that I can swipe my debit card to have my car washed but the vacuums never take cards. Who carries cash in 2017? The moms with clean vans, apparently.
Ooh, the Sonos has moved in to The Way You Look Tonight. Swoooooon. I want a glass of something delicious while I sit here listening now. But I digress. The kids decided that the eighty degree temps were warm enough for water play and in my recent efforts to say yes to their fun ideas more as well as cutting way down on screen time (says Mom as she types on the computer), I let them hook up the sprinkler under the trampoline. Their favorite. Water guns came out and they had a blast. I threw together some breakfast for dinner and let them eat on the porch.
I find myself transfixed in what I call I Hope You Remember moments. I gaze at my children wondering which of these moments will be woven into the fabric of their good childhood memories. It seems that every single person, no matter how difficult their childhood, has a safety net woven from the fibers of safe and happy moments. I consider my children to be experiencing a pretty happy childhood, and so I wonder - is this it? Will you remember this moment? Will it fade into the blur of your overarching impressions of your childhood, or will you have a snapshot of this precise moment? When you are grown and lying in bed, maybe somewhere on an adventure, will you long for the scene of skinny shirtless brothers licking popsicles and wielding water guns? Or the sight of your sister, wavy blonde hair dripping at the ends, frizzy curls around her face, running and yelling as she joins your fun and adamantly puts forth her suggestions for fun and games? I can't help but wonder. which of the yesses, however they barely managed to squeak out of my mouth, will make the memory cut? I know it's the fluffy dreamer girl inside me who longs to know, but it's a wonderful thing to think about.
Now Listening to: Josh Groban's To Where You Are
We have been teaching the kids Psalm 15 for 2.5 months. They learned Psalm 23 in January, but something about the following months caused our memory project to drag on this time. We're almost finished now, and it's precious to hear their sweet voices chime in as we practice it in the evening. Particularly Joe, who tends to pick up more than we realize.
GUYS. FOOLS RUSH IN JUST CAME ON. Andrea Bocelli & Katharine McPhee. My favorite version ever! As you may have noticed by the intermittent notations of song change, I'm not making it through this blog quickly. Pandora is just killin' it with my faves right now.
Well, it's cooling down outside and I need to dry off my passel of monkeys. Good night, guys!