Paddy's Turn (age 11)

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I am from freshly painted soccer fields, autographed Nike soccer balls, and ripped up backyard nets.

I am from the brick house on Kettle Lane with toys in the front yard and goals in the back.

I am from the grass of soccer fields, the bluebells at Bull Run (not far from the soccer fields), heat and humidity of Memorial Day tournaments, hauling dirt for the front yard garden--lavender, daisies, and daylilies.

I am from Daddy trips to Colorado, to Minnesota, to England, to Florida and from Beanie, Superman and Bee.

I am from born athletes and good cooks.

From “Pass it quicker” and “Don’t stop running.”

I am from Father Bob baptisms and donuts on Sundays and lighting candles at the Shrine.

I'm from Fairfax, Virginia and Italy and Poland, from Spaghetti Carbonara to eating more dough than cookies.

From dancing when they scored at Reading to winning the National Championship in Orlando with Mr. Lee.

I am from lapbooks and notebooks and workbooks galore.

I am from trophy shelves and more trophy shelves and bigger trophy shelves. From ribbons and medals, hanging from my bed rail. I am from souvenir jerseys and bobbleheads and every season’s media guide.

Rain at Last!

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Last night, after weeks of being teased with forecasts of thunderstorms that never happened, it finally rained.  And it really rained!  For about four hours, we had constant thunder and lightning and torrential downpours. Three inches of rain were reported at the airport closest to us.  I think we got more :-).  I love weather.  I'm not sure why, but storms really fascinate me.  Christian and I were awake to watch much of it, until we were diverted from the show by Michael's frantic call that his basement bedroom was flooding! Well over a foot of rain had collected in the window well and water poured in through the window.  It was a long, long night that lasted into the early morning.  Today is going to be a slow day for Mom, indeed. We have lots of towels to wash and a nap to take.  With more storms predicted throughout the weekend, it's definitely time to read our rain books:

Down Comes the Rain,

Flash, Crash, Rumble, and Roll,

and Storm in the Night.

It's Signing Time with Nicky and Katie!

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Every once in awhile, one of my children sets us off on a rabbit trail that becomes part of the family culture.  About eighteen months ago, Nicholas (then four), was fascinated with a wooden sign language puzzle I had on the alphabet shelf.  When he lifted the knobbed pieces he could see which sign stood for which letter.  He was completely focused on learning those signs.  And then, he began his campaign for more.  "Teach me how to talk with my hands!"

I found some beautiful and very effective books, The Handmade Alphabet and The Handmade Counting Book.  Quickly, he mastered those alphabet signs and the number signs and still, he was unrelenting in his begging for more.  Lissa wholeheartedly suggested the Signing Time DVDs.  I ordered the six that were available at the time.  A family addiction was born.  We all learned the songs; we all learned the signs.  I got to know Rachel Coleman, the woman behind the amazing videos, and was so inspired by her story.  We've been singing and signing ever since.  There are more volumes in our collection now and we've moved on to other resources like American Sign Language the Easy Way and The American Sign Language Phrase Book.  Talking with our hands is something we just do. 

We had always dabbled  a little with signing simple things for our babies.  Now, we're all looking forward to Signing Time board books and Baby Signing Time videos and a brand new baby to learn all those signs!

Yesterday, all alone in the kitchen, I started singing one of my favorite Signing Time songs, Shine.I went to the website to find the lyrics and learned I must not be the only mom who loves the songs for herself. Now there is a CD of all the songs that resonate with parents.  I thought about how much Signing Time and sign language have become a part of who we are as a family.  And I was so glad my four-year-old took me by the hand and led me down this lovely trail.

Mary Beth's turn

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At nine years old, where I'm from:

I am from reams of paper, Little House books, Hanna Andersson to match Katie, and ballet slippers.

I am from the big, brick house that smells like lavender and ginger. I am from warm colors on the walls, a flowered canopy hanging above my bed, and balls in the house even though they’re “not allowed.”

I am from the tulips, the basil, the parsley, the flat backyard with soccer goals.

I am from singing Christmas carols to awaken Mommy and Daddy on Christmas morning and cooking Italian meals. I am from Lisettes and Elizabeths and Michaels and Patricks.

I am from kids who play soccer before they can walk and who love to draw. I’m from tickle jail and butterfly kisses. I’m from sister handshakes and “matching-so cool!”

I’m from “Be ladylike” and from “Have fun.”

I am from being Catholic, bedtime prayers, Tomie de Paola, everybody’s icons, front door crucifixes, holy water fonts, feast days and family rosaries. I’m from a devotion to the Little Flower and John Paul the Great.

I'm from Fairfax, Virginia and Italy and Norway and Scotland and Poland, from basil and garlic and bringing Daddy breakfast-in-bed.

I am from crying when Nicky was a boy and getting roses when Katie was a girl and dancing with Michael in that itchy dress at Jimmy's and Michele’s wedding.

I am from Mommy’s camera and blogging. I’m from the hope chest filled with baptism candles, a ribbon bouquet from Mommy’s wedding rehearsal, broken boards from Tae Kwon Do, old pictures of Mommy wearing a wig to cover her baldness, pictures of babies that all look so much alike it’s hard to know who is who.

I am from playing dolls with my sister, listening to pots and pans being cleaned while I fall asleep, reading chapter books until I can’t keep my eyes open, school baskets, nature study, the Montessori shelves, and watching Katie and Gracie grow.

I am from home.