falling.

there are moments when time slows for us.

like when we fall.

normally the seconds fly, forming a dynamic vision.

but when we fall it's slow frames.

i feel like this happens in motherhood, sometimes.

like the days move along in a steady stream of tasks until something upsets the normal flow.

and in that upset we watch our children frame by frame.

it could be the smallest things that set me falling.

like i notice that evy suddenly has the nose of a grown girl. or that liam suddenly has a strong opinion that belongs only to him.

i stop and look at them.

i really see them for a moment.

and i remember in that second that eventually we'll hit the ground.

i remember that our world, the way it is just now, is slowly ending.

a funny phlebotomist (ossi goes for regular blood draws these days) told the kids it was time for a baby sister and i just laughed at him. i laughed because that chapter closed so quickly, like a blink. my baby is five now.

it's a little surreal that we've written that part of our story. it's set.

i'm happy with it. we did the best we could with what we had. (that's a famous saying from my parents.) and we have so much more ahead.

so the little realizations of change and growth set me falling sometimes.

also i decide to jump every once in a while.

i reserve a day for a frame-by-frame.

we need fall days every once in a while.

days to let our emotions well up in the corners of our eyes.

to breath them in with relish and out with a tiny sigh of mourning.

because the scare of falling wakes us up to how blessed we are to be here now...

here in the world of hide-and-seek.

of stick collections.

of playground equipment.


a place where all bugs must must be rescued.



where mom is the tallest of all.

the perfect hight for piggy-backs.


where the grass is so green, the flowers are still blooming, the leaves are bright, and kids are still little.