I don't know what it is about this time of year, but it brings a renewal to my soul. I love leaving the window open at night and the ceiling fan running, cuddling under the blankets. I love the smell of cinnamon, the beautiful colors of the changing leaves and the dry air that replaces the oven-like humidity we're normally accustom to here in the South.
One of our favorite traditions is the annual Chili-Cook off at church. I say "our" not because I have anything to do with the chili... but I love to watch my husband in action as he plots, schemes, shops and seasons his prize winning recipe. This is his second year winning 1st place and it simply brings a smile to my face to see how happy winning this contest makes him. He informed me that once we retire, we are going to start traveling the country searching for food competitions for him to join.
Kaylee and Mckay brought home the sweetest essays from school this week. They are entitled "My Hero":
Kaylee's:
My hero is my dad Steve because he is a policeman. He cares about my family. He once had to go to school and he brought us 14 things back. He's the greatest in the world! (Believe it or not, this actually took up a whole page of wide-lined paper).
McKay's:
My hero is my Doctor. She is so so so so careful with me. When I cry when I get a shot, she says 'let's do it next year'. She says to bring a stuffed animal that might work. She let's me do it next year, can you believe that? (Not really, since that's never happened) She protects me. She knows right from wrong. She protects me from danger. She loves me. I forgot her name. I almost never see her because I almost never get sick. I don't know where she lives. The first time I saw her was because I cracked my head on my Mom's dresser. It bled. I had to go to the hospital. I got a butterfly band aid. My Birthday she gives me prizes. Once I got lip gloss. My hero is my doctor.
As Vice-President of Student Council, Owen is learning that it's not all fun and games. He's been very nervous all week because today at school, in honor of Veteran's Day, he was supposed to dress up like Uncle Sam. He had a complete costume! I felt bad for him but knew he had to follow through with his obligations. When he got home today, I asked him "how'd it go" he said "Great!! The closet where the costume was just happened to be locked". Hmmm... made me think that he sabotaged it or something equally as shady.
The other night after a hard day I went into the kids rooms to tuck them in. As I looked at Griffin, I saw a side of him that I don't see very often these days. The side he usually portrays is a cool, confident, girl-magnet who's prone to spurts of mischief and surges of hormone induced mania. As I looked at his sweet unpretentious face, there was that little boy who I miss more and more each day. The one that is being pushed out by an equally as lovable preteen. As I smoothed back his mop of hair, I saw that face that reminds me no matter how old my kids get, I will always be able to see those baby faces just below the surface. I know it will be harder as they get older (I can't imagine trying to find them under facial hair) but it was a sweet reminder that those precious baby faces are never forgotten by a mother's eye.
