OffLine...

This entire month of July has been Insanity.
Blissy, Adventurous Insanity.....but Cah-razy Town, nonetheless.

Rock jumping at Smalls' Falls

Since the 4th of July, we have literally been living out of our suitcases, and I do declare that when we arrived home just the other day, I could write my name on every surface of every room.

Evenings with Ransom while the big boys fished...

But...oh goodness, me.... these days have been amazing.
We kicked off the month with our annual family vacation to my father-in-law's itty bitty slice of Heaven that resides on this itty bitty slice of island... and we called this place Home for one solid week.

Bliss, Baby.
Closest thing to Heaven on Earth, in my book.

I mean, seriously.... this is our "view" for the week:

Oh....and sometimes this:
Both, equally delicious....

We are so SO thankful for this place of retreat where we can literally go offline and just "be" for a few days.
And offline I did indeed go when on Day #1, I dropped my phone and smashed its' screen all to peices.  Texts still merrily made their way across the sound waves with a happy little "ding" to notify me that I had a message waiting...however, there was nary a thing that I could do about it for the entire week of our stay!  That drove me just a wee bit bonkers, but there honestly is some freedom and peace that comes with completely checking out for a few days. ...  Even if it wasn't entirely by choice!

The "Height of Land."

Each year out here, the look of our vacation takes on a different flavor.  Last year we had a newborn, which came with its own set of challenges, but she was at least completely immobile.  This year, we had a toddler on our hands who was a fearless whirling dervish of a water baby.  I looked forward to naptimes with eager anticipation of being able to let my guard down and not have to worry about near drownings every five minutes.

An early evening Bog adventure

This girl, she loves her water.
But, she's not a fan of her life jacket.
And she is completely mobile now, yet she walks like a raging drunkard, so she is as tipsy as all getout.
So, to keep us all sane and happy - if she wasn't in her swing or her exersaucer and completely contained, I would simply bring the lake to her....

Seriously, how cute is this?

The old metal tub.
Used for crayfish, frogs, chubs, and minnows.
Also good for bathing wee baby girls and for giving them their very own "pool."
It's all good.
Redneck roughing it....

This year, there were also three little boys who share varying degrees of whatever-the-word-is-that-makes-them-not-be-able-to-think-about-anything-else, love with their Daddy when it comes to all things fishing. Pretty much, no matter what we did, it always and without question involved bringing a fishing pole.  Or ten.

Big Daddy Chub.

We ate a lot of fish that week.
And all four of my boys were in Fishy Heaven.

Trouties from Cascade Stream.

And I said that I was going to hide all of the poles when we got home.

Coos Canyon.  A wee bit treacherous for London.

And London said that when she gets older she and I are going to stay back at camp and sit on the dock.

But we were Troopers and went along for the ride.
Because we like our boys.

Big Daddy Trout.

And often it involved an iced coffee.  Or an ice cream.
But I still think that I deserve a reward.

A salmon....with his half eaten lunch.

 There. Was. A. Lot. of. Fishing.

Smalls' Falls.

But, there was also a lot of Beauty wherever we went.
And scenery that allowed for lots of deep, cleansing breathes.
And just a whole lot of at-one-ness with Creation and its' Creator.
This, I love.

And I love that while the boys can lap the entire island in the span of two minutes, they are never, ever bored.  They never once ask for video game time or mention that they're missing their Saturday morning cartoons.

They are peaceful, and they are at their happiest.

They wake up with the sun, and they sleep like puppies at night.  They swim, they fish, they lay on the dock and skip rocks.  They catch frogs and canoe. They build fires, and they play.  They bathe in the lake, and they live in their swim trunks.

And the sweet, simple loves of my childhood are once again re-lived in my children.
It is indeed the happiest week of our Summer.

Imperfect Perfection.

The glory of Summer!

...of declaring school to be finally DONE!....even though we didn't finish everything.
...of being okay with this "less than perfect" year of schooling.
...and of packing everything away, anyway, - to start things afresh and anew....

Later.

Here's to days of "imperfect perfection."

Days where kids run wild and free...and days where they far outnumber the adults.
Days where "vacation" doesn't necessarily mean "relaxation"....

...but where it's all so very good, anyway.

 Here's to early mornings spent berrying in the fields...

And then coming home to "jam" in the kitchen.

Days where we start early to "get ahead" while the baby sleeps...and days where all of that rushing ended in nothing because we forgot one very important step.

Days of deep, cleansing breaths while we start everything over.
And days of walking deep with others while they try to start over, as well.

Days of very imperfect Perfection....

Here's to little mini jam jars for my little mini Hoolies...

Here's to rainy 4th of July's where we kick it to The Great Unknown far away from all the crowds and the chaos.
...Except for our own.

Which is a lot, by the way...

 Days where work is forgotten.
And where Friends love like Family.

 Days of sweet simplicity.
And days where "play is indeed the work of childhood."

Here's to days...and times...and moments...
that we will miss if we blink.

And that we can't possibly savor if we don't.  slow...  down.....

Even if the Crazy far outweighs the Calm.
And Even if the only "me time" in this season of Now consists of...well...sleeping.

These days are fleeting.
And I'm Choosing to See...

Here's to seeing it all through their eyes....
Eyes that live life FULL - no matter what and in spite of all our flaws.
And eyes that don't have to be taught to take it all in.

Eyes that just know...
And eyes that teach their Mama to see.

All of this Imperfect Perfection.

And here's to crashing hard at the end of every day.....
For Sanity restored....

"Summer afternoon - summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language." ~ Henry James.

Simple Summer Savorings...

Because Life is a Journey and not a Race...
And because Happiness is not a Destination, but a manner of travelling your way There...

 (Because we like to try and drown ourselves daily.....)

Because Life is full of a lot of the same...

Day after Day.
Diaper after diaper.
Meal after Meal.
Laundry Load after Laundry Load.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat....
Of such is all of Life....
Or, at least the life of a Mama...

Because of all of this...
It's good to remember some things....

"It is the Joy of the small that makes Life large...."  ~ Ann Voskamp

And it is in the counting of the small gifts that makes Life Full...
And Free...
And Life Giving.

Gardens growing.  Happiness.

Because Maine summers are the tiniest of blips in the course of our year...
And because living with Children teaches you how to Savor the Simple.

 Like plopping down on the grass and watching your lap get filled up with Love....

Or sneaking out to the back porch first thing in the morning with your Sister Friend ~

~ Bedhead, jammies, and all.... ~

Because

It's the little things.

The things we can miss if we do not choose to see.

Because Joy is never tied up into things you can buy...
And because He is the Source of it all.

Slow...
See the Sacred in the Chaos...

Somebody thinks she can just start walking all on her own....
No permission was given for this.

Count the Gifts.
Thank the Gift Giver....

~ My four little souls who remind me....day after day after day.
~ And for six little souls total...who fill own Home with Crazy...but our Hearts with Love...
~ Soul friends with which to walk life alongside.
~ Morning coffee on the back deck...gentle breezes...slow starts to the day.
~ A bed not big enough for the six of us first thing in the morning.
~ Simple days.  No agendas.
~ Learning to give myself grace.  And others.
~ Settling into "my best," as opposed to everyone else's.
~ Finding....finally, a whole year later...truly finding my rhythm as a Mama of four...
~ Learning...and re-learning...that "comparison destroys contentment."

~ Resting.  In His Grace.
~ Celebrating.  Summer and the pace that comes with it.
~ Accepting.  That "Life" is big.  And I am not...
~ Growing.  As a Mama.  As a perfectionist.  As one who likes her lists checked off....
~ Savoring.  Summer simplicity in our own backyard....
~ Finding Freedom.  In accepting that I cannot do it all.
~  Acknowledging.  My need for Him...in everything....
~  Finding Joy....in knowing that in Him...I am enough....
~ She and I...just us...first thing every morning.
~ He and I...just us...to end our every evening.

~ #5192-5211.  My Joy Journey...

"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the blue sky, is by no means a waste of time."
~ Sir John Lubbock

Boy Camping.

Every year, to kick off summer vacation in the most epic of fashions, my boys - along with one of Kev's best friends and his boy - go on an "all guy only" three day and two night tenting and fishing trip down in the Mattagamon wilderness.  They have been doing this since Jesse was about three years old, and it's one of their absolute most favorite summer traditions.  We were trying to remember exactly what number trip this makes for the guys, and we think this is about their 5th go around.  This year was Ransom's first to join the big boys, so London and I were left home alone, free and clear of all things loud and rowdy.

Three hour nap.  Right here on the side of the river.

Every year, the boys tell me somewhat sheepishly that they're going to miss me, and they really wish that I could go, but "This is just an all boys, no girls allowed trip...you understand, don't you Mama?"

Oh yes, my Loves.
Trust me.  No hard feelings here.
All boy trips have quite a different flavor than the trips that have one or two women present.

Exhibit A:

This year, "just for fun" they decided to walk a mile and a half into the fly infested woods to look for a fishing hole that  might possibly be amazing.  It might not be too.  But, we should check it out "just for fun."  They caught a kajillion bug bites - and very few if any fishies - and then traipsed themselves a mile and half back out the same trail.  Three miles.  Round trip.  Straight into Bug Land.

So sad I missed that experience, said I, not even once in my life.....

And Exhibit B:

The crowning moment of this entire all-boy trip, however -  that I'm not even the least bit sorry that I missed out on, by the way - was in the middle of one of those nights, one of the boys completely woofed his cookies all over one of the other boys...and the completely hurled on boy had nary a clue that it even happened.  He just kept on sleeping all blissy like.  Well, that is until the next morning when he crawled out of the tent with the entire front of his shirt covered, and he said to his father in the most curious of voices:  "Um, Daddy?  There's something slimy all over my shirt...and it smells like puke!"  Aaaah, well Buddy....that's because it is puke.

Classic.
They'll be talking about this for years to come.

In fact, Kev took vast amounts of glee and pleasure in re-telling me this story while I was trying to eat my supper after coming home from work the next night.  We almost had "Hurl Your Cookies, The Sequel," right there on my couch.  That would have been fun.  He said:  "I knew it smelled a little growthy in the tent when I woke up in the morning...but you know, there were six guys sleeping in there."

And there you have it:  Exhibit C of why I'm not sad that I couldn't go.
But, I wasn't sad to have them come back home to me, either...

They had a blast.
They ate tons of fun food.
They caught tons of trouties and salmon.

They tubed down the river.
They built fires.
They made their own schedules.
They never changed their undies.
And they came home filthy, stinky, and filled right up to the tippy top brim with HAPPY.

This.  I Love....