1 Second...Every Couple of Days

Once upon a time, not very long ago at all, I didn't have an iPhone or any kind of smart phone. And still I fell in love with the 1SecondEveryday app when it was a Kickstarter project. This little app embodies so much of what I love---snapshots of everyday, memory-keeping and EASY.

In July 2014 I FINALLY got a smart phone, because we were moving and I needed Siri in a very real way. The power of being able to ask, "Directions home"  in a new town cannot be underestimated. 

It wasn't until I saw Elise Cripe's first 7-second video on Instagram that I remembered that Kickstarter idea I had loved. So I started 11 days into 2016, and there have been some weeks when I capture only one or two seconds. I let go of perfection and embraced capturing what I can. And I love it.

Golden Seconds from 2016 Part 1 from Deirdre Keating on Vimeo.

Sean at 11

"What they don't understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you're eleven, you're also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don't. You open your eyes and everything's just like yesterday, only it's today. And you don't feel eleven at all. You feel like you're still ten. And you are --underneath the year that makes you eleven."

From one of my favorite short stories, Eleven by Sandra Cisneros

The many Seans within his 11 year old self.

Sean let me know, the day before his birthday, that his great heroic journey was about to begin. 

"Harry was 11 when he went to Hogwarts," he explained, "and Link is 11 when he starts his journey. Eleven is also the Ewok age of coming, when they get their slingshot and put on their hood." Sean is an Ewok expert.

It is also the birthday that I've been thinking about ever since we finished the Harry Potter series. I had to search past Facebook posts to remember exactly when we finished:

[note to self: Facebook is a pain to search. Do not use it as your memory-keeper!]

When we finished the book, Sean asked me if I thought he might get a letter from Hogwarts on his 11th birthday. He confided that he knew we were all muggles but he thought he just might be wizard.

And so was born the idea of surprising him on his 11th birthday with a letter...

It includes an invitation to Hogwarts... at Universal Studios for this fall. 

I wanted to capture Sean at age 11 in this post, but that's an impossible task. He is growing and changing and figuring out who he wants to be. He is a bit adamant about being a nerd, and his two best buddies, Leo and Luke, have joined him in what they call the "nerd herd" at lunch. My understanding is that their game involves a mish-mash of Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. 

I see no conflict with Sean's embrace of nerd culture and his love of sports, but he does and we have ongoing conversations about stereotypes and not needing to conform to any one box. He still loves soccer and running, and is playing baseball this spring (when the snow allows). He loves cheering for the Blackhawks along with his dad.

Some things remain constant, like Sean's love of reading, writing, drawing and acting. Here's a glimpse at some of his past roles:

(Superman, Buzz Lightyear, the Wise Man, "An Old-fashioned Thanksgiving," Huck Finn, and an elf in "The Hobbit")

Current Favorites at age 11:

• Color: Green
• Food: Hamburgers
• Dessert: Hawaiian Ice
• Book: Fellowship of the Ring
• Movie: Star Wars
• Song: "Concerning Hobbits"
• Game: Ocarina of Time
• Sport: Soccer

He still plays violin (above with his two best buds), and has been teaching himself the piano this year. He says he still plans to live in the Irish countryside and be a blacksmith, as well as write and draw comics. 

Just before his birthday, his godfather, Uncle Kevin came to visit. In a magical, serendipitous moment Sean asked my brother, who has never been into videogames really, what his favorite game was as a kid, and he said, "Probably Ocarina of Time." I don't think Kevin knew that Sean is slightly obsessed with Legend of Zelda, was Link for Halloween (even though everyone thought he was Peter Pan) and has taught himself to play the theme of Ocarina of Time on the piano. He was on cloud nine having Uncle Kevin play with him and point out things he never knew. For me, it was a "cup overflows" moment of gratitude.

Kevin also gave him a few too many tips on chess, and taught me, a rudimentary player, how to castle correctly. For his birthday, Sean received a book on how to beat anyone at chess, with key points highlighted by Kevin and annotated with his own advice. The rest of us have been forbidden to read any of it, and I think it may be my favorite gift any of our boys have ever received.

The past year also brought Eve, Sean's long-longed for tortoise, and a side gig as a personal trainer, and his first non-party birthday party (we stop at age 10) which involved pizza and ice cream cake, his best buds, "Jungle Book" at the theater, and a ton of time on the trampoline, playing Wii, and ghost in the graveyard. For his first year without a party, it still felt a lot like a party.

Then again, most things with Sean do feel like a party. In January he told me his goal for 2016 was to be more positive, which I thought funny because he is a pretty positive kid. A long time ago I said something to him and Nolan about how we can choose to make "a heaven or a hell" out of anything, and he loves to remind me of that whenever I throw a fit. He still loves to snuggle, still loves to wrestle his dad, and is the bridge in our family between the childhood world of Nolan and the teen world of Aidan. 

I'm excited to witness the heroic journey ahead!

Nolie Cannoli

This boy is now eight.

He is the moon and stars rolled into one, and every mama-cliche about their babies.

He is not a baby. He is a boy. He wants to stay that way. He says his worst fear is becoming a teen.

"I know adults have more freedom, but I like being a kid. I would rather have less freedom and less responsibility."

And just this week: "I might have kids someday, but I'm not going to share my stuffed animals with them!"

This boy loves his penguin, his stuffed koala, his Ewok and a dozen other friends. Every other week we empty his bed of animals and say, "Choose three." Within a week, the three have multiplied once again.

This is classic Nolie and Sean---with Sean trying to entice him and Nolie contemplating whether he'll go along. This boy is strong willed and does not follow blindly, but his big-brother adoration is equally powerful. His love of Ewoks, like his love of koalas, the book series Amulet, and a million other things, have been handed down.

And yet, this boy is his own person. He loves shiny things. He once asked for a diamond from Santa. His grandmother introduced him to Michael's craft store this summer, and he was in awe of the bling aisle. He has very definite ideas, like his decision to be a s'more this Halloween. Not one of the dozen superheroes we already have costumes for, no. A s'more.

This boy has always had a thing for s'mores.

This boy is the slowest eater, and the only boy in our house to like mac-n-cheese, cantaloupe, or grilled cheese (hmm, just like his dad!). This boy used to ask us to call him Brian Junior.

This boy is now an independent reader, just like his brothers. He has fallen for graphic novels in a big way, and El Deafo specifically. This was also the year he introduced our whole family to Edward Tulane. He loves bringing home books none of us have read before---a challenging feat!

This boy is a master builder. And a bit spoiled. This boy hates when I say that, though I intend it as a reminder to his parents. He doesn't have a third of the jobs his brother Aidan had at that age. He is a rule-follower to the extreme in the classroom, and not quite so much at home.

This boy plays piano, soccer, and baseball. His beloved Robotics club just ended.  Last summer he went to two weeks of summer camp, at the Golden History Museum and Mines Sports camp. He is always asking his dad for help building something.

He loves his babysitter who comes for an hour after school. This boy loves how his baby sitter doesn't notice him sneaking yet another fruit snack or granola bar. And he loves drawing with her, and playing games his brother Sean invents for them. He is good at math and great at writing, but hates when his mom has him rewrite his messy work.

This boy says the best grace at dinner, gives his dog a blessing at bedtime, and is anxiously awaiting his First Communion this year.

This boy notices beauty.  He gives compliments and hugs, but only to people he knows well. He craves sad stories. He loves to snuggle.

This boy amazes me and scares me because I love him so.

And now he's eight.

You Can’t Go Home Again

You can’t go home again, wrote Tom Wolfe, because your home will have changed, and so will have you.

Still, you can visit what was once your home, which will only highlight all that has changed, and all that you have lost and all that you have gained. That’s what we did the first weekend after school let out for the summer.

___________________________

I had been debating for days whether or not we should drive by our old house. The house had only been framed when we bought it in 2004, so the hours and muscle and money we poured into making it a home had made us extremely attached to it. I sometimes joked we could never move because it would be so odd to come back (so many people move away from Moab---and then move back) and have someone else living in our house.

I was verklempt just driving past the stop sign where our boys got off the bus in 1st grade, and was sure we were making a mistake driving to the house.

Then we turned a corner and saw this green house. Not our house, but a green house. And we all started laughing. It was like a gift---it was so clearly not our house anymore. Several neighbors recognized our car and we had a mini-reunion in the middle of the street. The new owners could not have been more gracious and gave us a tour of all their renovations and updates. And I felt elated. The house I had loved, the one I brought my babies home to and found so hard to let go, no longer existed. I’m so happy it has a brand new face and that the new owners are making it all their own.

___________________________

When planning our trip, we each contributed to a short “must-do/see” list for our weekend. Mass with our much-missed community at St. Francis was easily a “must.”

I know this will shock you (ha!), but I was always critical of our parish in Moab. Not enough youth programs, not enough Glory & Praise songs, etc. At the same time, I knew we were blessed to have found a home parish at long last. It’s where we celebrated almost a dozen Nativity plays, Nolan’s Baptism, Aidan’s First Communion as well as Sean’s. And it is where the boys met and fell in love with our dear Miss Bobbie.

We went to at least four different churches before settling upon one here in Colorado, and after attending the same one for several months, Brian leaned over one Sunday and whispered, “Just so you know, when I go, I want my service at St. Francis.” That was out of character for Brian in many ways, but it reinforced what we all still feel---that our home parish is in Moab.

Shave Ice from Tropical Sno was also on our list, as well as dinner at the Diner, lunch at Milt’s, and breakfast at Love Muffin. Check, Check, Check.

I wanted a Friday afternoon at Old City Park, just like old times. Grateful to CeCe, Catherine, Marva, Liz, Kathy, and Natalie ---who came out, despite some thunder and the threat of rain. It wasn’t the same lazy afternoon, with mamas on beach towels and blankets, but it was close---it’s impossible to avoid the intensity that limited time brings. One huge highlight was Aidan getting to see his best friend, whom we all thought wasn’t going to be in town that weekend. They were too cool to hug each other, but they both had huge grins on their faces the whole time.

The weather didn’t cooperate with biking or hiking, but as great as that would’ve been, this short weekend was all about seeing people. Brian got to meet up with his friends for a beer. I got to hug Miss Tiger and have a fast chat with Sarah, and a crazy adventure at Woody’s with Christy. The boys had gaming with friends at Moab’s Library on their must-do list…but couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t let them check out a pile of books! Christy met me at the library, and we solved world problems as well as our own while pretending our kids were still toddlers in the play area. Christy makes me laugh as hard as she makes me think---a rare treasure.

So grateful to our friends, Kathy and Tom, who hosted us at Hotel Lacy. Loved sitting on their patio talking about old times and new times with them and the Wallings, while we all pretended not to notice the boys sneaking so many marshmallows that they were all gone by the time we went to make s’mores!

As anyone who has moved knows, not all friendships survive the lack of proximity. When you are no longer part of the minutia of each other’s lives, it can be hard to get past the generic: “How are things?” “Things are good.”

It made me appreciate Instagram---I loved being able to ask a friend about the race she’s training for, or when others knew little things that aren’t important enough to mention but that, ultimately, are the things that matter most to us.

And then there are the magical friendships where you just pick up where you left off and it feels like, surely you’ll see each other again tomorrow. The friendships formed while raising your babies and toddlers are as intense as the ones from college---when we were raising ourselves!

On the six-hour drive home we stopped at Chipotle and guess whose writing was on my cup? My old friend (even if she doesn’t know it) Barbara Kingsolver---writing about the importance of community.

She writes that scholars who research social well-being have found that the happiest people aren’t the very poor or the very rich, but “the ones with the most community.” (Interestingly, Mexico, Ireland, and Puerto-Rico are named as the places with the strongest sense of community).

Back in Golden, I was happy to see Duke and our house, but, as a friend here pointed out, I was comparing 10 years worth of community to the 10-months worth that we have built here.

There are numerous reasons why we left Moab, and just as many why I’m glad we are here, but I do wonder if we’ll make the same ties.

I’m working full-time now, and am grateful for the smart and funny people I get to work with daily. But those connections will never compare to the ones made while you are both trying to nurse your babies at a park.

I’m part of a book club here and we live on a cul de sac with great neighbors…but I’m working full-time now, so where will the time come to connect in the same way?

Our kids are older now. So, while I’ll get to know their friends, I can’t imagine I’ll know their friends’ parents in the way that you automatically do when your kids are little---when your friendships dictate who their friends are.

At times I feel too old and tired to make good friends again. I have enough already, and too little time to be the friend I want to be to my old friends. At other times, I feel like the manic bear in YOU WILL BE MY FRIEND! If only I could shrink the world. My close friends are spread out, not just in Moab but in different states. My old friend in New Zealand calls and I feel that relief---I can tell her a story and not have to fill in all the background or the cast of characters. She’ll get it. New connections require more effort, time, and energy than I have.

___________________________

And then I remember the words of women wiser than me. Karen Maezen Miller would tell me, “You have all the time in the world.” Anne Morrow Lindbergh advised us to remain “empty, open, choiceless as a beach.” And young Jess Lively says, “Our purpose is to serve others in the present moment wherever we happen to be.”

I’m not quite sure what to do with those words at this point, but I know in my heart that they are true.

And that you can go home again---so long as home is not a place.

In the end (and the beginning), Moab is no longer our home.

But it will always be our Holy Land.

letters to our sons | september 2014

One of the reasons I created a blog was to capture this time when my sons are young. So I’m excited to join a group of friends as we share about the boys in our lives on the third Friday of each month. You can follow our blog circle to Jacqui’s letter to her adorable boy, and continue all the way through the blog circle.

All of these photos were taken on my iPhone, because that’s just how we roll these days…I love them not for the quality of light or composition, but for the bit of our story they capture.

Dear Aidan,

Can I just say, for the record, how in awe I am of how you have handled all the changes of the past few months? We all found it difficult to leave Moab, but you most of all. At first you were adamant that you weren’t going to move. I’m so grateful that, as upset as you were, you were able to articulate so well how you felt, what you thought, and share that with your dad and me. When we came back from our house-hunting trip, you said to me, “I feel like two people, because during the day I get excited about the move and a new house, and then at night I just get sad again.” I felt the same way, but you put it in words so well.

At the same, you started the whole new world of middle school, ie: locker combinations, six different teachers, a schedule and lots more to master. You’re up every morning at 6 AM for your shower, followed by a hot cup of tea and bacon with toast. You’re getting the habit of using the daily planner to remember homework. You’re home a good hour before brothers---and I so enjoy that time to talk with you, to hear not so much about your day but usually about your next idea, a funny story you read, or big plans you have.

I was trying to think what helped you make all these transitions so well. One big blessing, for all of us, has been having so much time with our favorite people during our first month in a new place. We’d had fun with my old friend Kris and her kids who live nearby, and your beloved Gramare came to stay with us. Your favorite uncle met us in San Francisco, and we actually got to share a house with the Rockows for a few days in Point Reyes. Your godmother Angie always lights up for you, and  Mary Alice, just days after we all celebrated her wedding, gave us a personal tour of what you now like to refer to as your “future place of employment,” Pixar.

I think it’s helped that Golden is such a beautiful place, that you’ve had our dog Duke along for the whole ride, that the library is just down the street from our rental, that you have your own room for the very first time, and that you’ve had your own goals to work toward (first: to save for your own iMac; second: to convince your parents to let you watch “Terminator”).

Mostly though, I think it comes down to you. You’ve chosen to have a positive attitude, and to focus on the good things. You’ve risen to new responsibilities and freedoms. You’ve been a big help to me personally, whether it be walking Duke or carrying a vacuum up three floors! You look out for your brothers, and they look out for you. The other day we brought cookies to our local fire station, continuing a tradition we had for years in Moab. We weren’t expecting to spend more than a minute saying thanks, but the volunteer fire fighter delighted in showing us their trucks and station. I know you felt you were too old for the tour, but you rose to the occasion. While your brothers were shy and silent, you listened intently and told him how cool you thought his work was. That generosity of spirit is what I appreciate most about you, Aidan.

As we were leaving, the fire fighter asked what you thought of Golden. “It’s awesome,” you replied. Then he asked, “Better than where you came from?” And you said, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

You’ve already come so far, and I’m grateful.

More than all the stars,

Mom

 

 

Easy Memory-Keeping via Facebook Screenshots

The above image is from my favorite photo app Collect, another tool for easy memory keeping.

Are you ready for the laziest blog post easiest memory-keeping ever?

To say this summer has been a whirlwind is an understatement.

During one of the busiest weeks, my friend Lara challenged me to share three gratitudes for five days on Facebook. I’m so grateful to her for the challenge, because it helped give me perspective each day and realize how much I had to be grateful for (it was often hard to just pick three!).

And now I have those posts as a bit of memory-keeping of a time that will soon be a blur. Even with its timeline, I find Facebook difficult to refer back to and just never do, whereas I love revisiting old post here. So I’m going to repost that challenge here---just so I’ll be able to find it again!

The challenge started the day after our See-You-Soon party, but more than anything we are grateful for good friends and the wonderful send off we felt.

 

 

letters to our sons | may 2014

One of the reasons I created a blog was to capture this time when my sons are young. So I’m excited to join a group of friends, moms, and fellow photographers as we share about the boys in our lives on the third Friday of each month. You can follow our blog circle to Chantell Sim of Chasing Tydes Photography for the next letter to our sons, and continue all the way through the blog circle.

All of these photos were taken on our iPad, because that’s just how we roll these days…I love them not for the quality of light or composition, but for the bit of our story they capture.

Dear Aidan, Sean, and Nolan,

Thank you for the best Mother’s Day ever. Sean, you told me I already said that last year---but every year it feels like the best one yet.

I decided a long time ago I was going to LOVE Mother’s Day. It might shock you to hear this, but a lot of moms don’t. Some people don’t like celebrating just because a certain day on the calendar tells them to, which I can understand---but I’ll take any holiday the calendar turns up!

Some are reminded of babies they are missing terribly, and some of us are missing our own moms. I think of those mamas on this day too.

Some moms end up having to do all their normal work on this day---plus making the day special, so it feels like more work.

As awesome as you three boys are, I think we all know who really makes Mother’s Day a success in our house: DAD!

I think there are three keys to a great Mother’s Day and so I’m going to capture them here for you to read *someday* in the future.  Because, if you’re the dad, the ball really is in your court on Mother’s Day.

Key #1: Dad has to train his sons (and daughters) before he can expect them to carry Mother’s Day on their own.

As eager as all three of you are to please, everyone needs leadership. Or someone to just say, “Have you made your mom a card yet?”

Knowing how much you boys like waffles and pancakes, it meant even more to me to have French Toast, my favorite, for breakfast. Which brings me to the second key to joy on Mother’s Day

Key #2: Moms have to say what they want---out loud. Possibly more than once.

When asked what I wanted on Mother’s Day, I used to say, “I just don’t want to make any decisions.” It was true but not really fair. Your dad found a brilliant workaround---ask me the day BEFORE Mother’s Day! So on Friday, he sent Aidan upstairs, and ever so nonchalantly, without even mentioning the next day, Aidan asked me what my favorite breakfast was, my favorite lunch, and my favorite dinner. Aidan, I hope you made a mental note of this in your head. Ask people what they would like---and ask them early enough. No one wants to be asked what she would like for Mother’s Day dinner…at 5PM on Mother’s Day.

Afterwards, taking my own advice, I told Brian I didn’t really want my favorite lunch since we’d be having a big breakfast. Smoothies and popcorn sounded much more doable, and I was even happy to make them. As much as you boys like the idea of serving me breakfast in bed, I’m honest and tell you that I really can’t stand eating in my bed. Not a big deal, but so much better than starting the day out of sorts.

Key #3: Remember that it’s not your birthday, it’s Mother’s Day. It’s celebrating a relationship.

My mom loved that episode of “The Middle” about Mother’s Day. Patricia Heaton’s character is having a horrible day, and envies her husband who is getting to spend the day alone. She doesn’t realize that her own mother wants the very same thing---a day alone.

I crave alone time too, insatiably it sometimes seems. But we all also crave good times together, and I love that we’ve happened upon a few Mother’s Day traditions that guarantee a good time for all.

Sean, you created the above drawing when your teacher asked you to illustrate a tradition in our family. Due to all the rain this Saturday, we weren’t able to hike to Morning Glory Bridge…but we did get to visit Back of Beyond Bookstore together.

I hope none of you forget our neighbor Carol, and how she always thought of you on your birthdays with a gift card to Back of Beyond. Your spring birthdays work out perfectly so that we are all able to browse and BUY on Mother’s Day. I love that you all love bookstores as much as I do!

We played Uno, Movie Lines, Charades, and Apples to Apples. We snuggled up to watch “Harry Potter & the Sorcerer's Stone” (in celebration of Nolan finishing the book the night before!) with our popcorn and smoothies. And Dad made a feast for us all---with my favorite dinner: steak salad with jicama & bell pepper. Oh so good!

And I got another Mother’s Day wish come true---a photo with the three of you!

Thanks for yet another best Mother’s Day ever! I hope your future wives are as lucky as I am, and you train your sons to treat her to a great day too!

And to forgive her if she takes the Mother’s Day leeway a bit too far with her tween!

More than all the stars,

Mom

You can follow our blog circle to Chantell Sim of Chasing Tydes Photography for the next letter to our sons, and continue all the way through the blog circle.