Sean turned 10, closing out the spring birthday season around here. I love that crazy expression above. I had hidden the Wii game in with a shirt, and it was the last gift he opened. He is a sticker (like his dad) for manners and didn’t express his disappointment, but when he finally found the game, he was ecstatic. He’s been working on his literary scrapbook of Tom Sawyer. He wanted The Hobbit, but someone else got it first. No worries, though, because he will get enough Hobbit this summer---he’s in a play production of the novel this August. Honestly, I would be lost without Sean. He is an incredible helper, especially with his little brother. Reading, drawing, listening to music, playing soccer, and arguing about obscure details are still his favorite things.
Aidan grew another foot, or so it seems. He’s past me and gaining on Brian. He somehow managed to wear us down, and introduced his brothers to the legends of Zelda. He finished his science experiment on how food digests (pretty grossly, imo) and is counting down the days until school is finished. He went on a weekend retreat with our church youth group, and has spent many hours this spring bent over the drafting table in his room drawing. He passed his first Tae Kwon Do test last month too. He got out of school early one day, so I picked him up and brought him back to my work. He read at the Starbucks in the building. I tried to imagine being his age and sitting at a campus coffee shop. I hope it had a fraction of the impact it would’ve have had for me at age 13. Lately he says he wants to live in London when he’s older—partly because he thinks his British accent is so good.
Nolan wrote the above book, with my favorite part being his “About the author” page on the very back. He turned seven in March, which I think was very inconsiderate. He is our baby, and in some ways is so grown up now and in others, the same sweet little boy. He’s learning to be more assertive on the soccer field, and he has two best friends, Will and Annabelle. When my sister came to visit last month, he and his cousin Henry declared each other “best buddies” and played LEGOs nonstop, and somehow managed to sleep in the same bed. He’s a reader now, and I’m just as surprised at how it seemed to happen overnight as I was with his brothers. He’s dying to start the 5th Harry Potter book, but I’m holding off for as long as he’ll let me. He’s already growing up too fast!
We have made the big transition---to a new state, new town, and new jobs. To be honest, at 45, it’s been exhausting. I feel guilty complaining because we have been so lucky every step of the way. Unexpected gifts everywhere---our house sold within weeks of being on the market. We found a furnished rental in Golden, which is almost unheard of, and in the heart of our little downtown, which was incredibly fun.
We had an amazing, patient realtor (I’m linking to her here, in case you too are looking for a home in the Denver area; she’s that good). We found a house with a real backyard (also slightly unheard of around here), near good schools and with less than 15 minutes commute to either of our jobs. Great neighbors---including teenage twin girls who became our afterschool babysitters as well.
And I got a job, doing things I love like learning, writing, and capturing things with my camera.
And yet, I still complain because none of it has been easy. At least once a month we each have a “We’ve made a big mistake!” moment in which we question every decision of the past year and wish we were back in Moab. Luckily, they’ve never overlapped or we might have packed up and gone back.
Transitioning from free-lance to full-time has been the hardest change for me. That’s a topic for another post. Brian has been amazing, of course. He’s taken on more than his share of the chauffeuring, and took all three boys to their dentists appointments and well-child visits this spring. I’m grateful for that, but it stings a bit too.
Brian has had to travel quite a bit more for this new job, and fire season is starting (I may be the only person thrilled by all the recent rain, secretly hoping it means fewer fires). He continues working on the house, painting trim and closets, and hanging frames.
The hanging of frames, like these in our entry, are the real signal to me that this place is becoming our home.