Asher is 5! We have been celebrating in simple and joyful ways for several days now. This is how we celebrated his special day at home. Since it was a Tuesday and a school day, we had our normal rhythms to fit in, also.

“Is I’m 5?” was the first thing we heard that morning. Daddy told him he was a big boy and Asher said, “No. I’m a medium boy.” Very well, then. Our breakfast table had a special place setting for Asher, flowers, rainbows, our Family Candle, and a beautiful bell. In our house, the birthday boy gets to wear his Birthday Crown and ring the bell as loud as he likes on his birthday morning. Asher got to open one gift, his mama-made fleece dragon mittens and hat.

After school, I picked him up and we went for a nature walk with Solstice the dog. We walked to the huge fallen oak tree that we call the Bee Tree because it has an active beehive way up high. You can see the bees going in and out. It’s a magical place with woods all around and the bike trail. Walking Solstice is not nearly as easy as walking with 5-year-old Asher.

In the afternoon, we snuggled and he napped, we picked up Lucas from school, and then the boys played outside. Asher rode on Lucas’s old bike—we put the training wheels on it just the other day. Mama baked a cake using the Waldorf Birthday Cake recipe. Yum! It’s made with honey and yogurt—dense and moist. When Daddy came home, he made Asher’s requested dinner of stir fry with Chinese noodles.

And then we had cake!

I’m pretty sure he felt special.

The kids got ready for bed, then Asher opened his birthday gifts—two story books (Miss Rumphius and Runya, the Fire Fairy) …

… and a LEGO idea book. And a build-your-own kaleidoscope kit and sun print paper.

He opened his new Stockmar crayons and the crayon holder I made him …

… and the alphabet stones, which we played with a bit.

(I kind of love these. They are nice to touch.)

And the marvelous evening culminated in this: Lucas GAVE Asher his old bike. Lucas washed it and polished it nicely and tied a big bow on it. Now Asher has a big-boy bike to ride outside with brother! What a perfect, thoughtful gift. Lucas got to be the hero. And that suits us just fine.

Today is my baby boy’s fifth birthday. I am over the moon with excitement for him. I live for this stuff, I think. Anyway, over the last several days, I’ve been scrambling to make some gifts for him.

I made these alphabet stones for him using rocks from my yard and my paints. I got this idea from a photo I saw on Pinterest, which I believe is originally from this blog. I am grateful for the fun idea. Asher is five, so I don’t know how or if he will connect with these letters yet, but even if he doesn’t, they are still fun to hold and look at. I think manipulating them to make short words will be fun, and that’s all that matters at this age.

Each stone has its lowercase letter on the other side.

Thanks to a lot of help from my mother and her nifty, first-class serger, I made this fleece dragon hat and a matching pair of mittens. I’ve never done anything like this before and the mittens in particular were challenging for me. But a more accomplished sewist (“sewer” just doesn’t look that great even though it’s correct, does it?) would have an easy time of it, I think. I just traced Asher’s hands and made a paper pattern, adding a good 1/2 inch for the seem. I also made the wrist portion wider to ensure that he could get his hand into the mittens. Fortunately, fleece is slightly stretchy and it’s pretty dreamy to sew because it doesn’t fray, so you don’t have to be as nitpicky as with other fabrics. BUT—like I said, we serged these! And my goodness, what a dream of a machine that is! This was the very first time my mama let me touch her serger. (Machines and I don’t always see eye to eye.)

OK, the back of the mittens look best. Anyway, he went off to school this morning wearing them!

And finally, here is a crayon holder I made for his brand-new birthday block crayons. We have block crayons in this house, but technically they belong to Lucas. I thought Asher might like to have his own and a special place to keep them safe. (I don’t know if he WILL keep them safe, but with the crayon holder’s pockets he COULD.)

This item has 22 wee pockets, with six that are empty now so he could add to it later. And to be honest, I still have to sew a ribbon tie on one end of the crayon holder before I can wrap this up. So, I’d better go do that.

Today is for writing, wrapping, baking a cake, and baking a class set of muffins for tomorrow’s Kindergarten celebration. Tonight we’ll have a small family celebration with Asher’s choice of dinners—Daddy’s stir fry with Chinese noodles.

My mother has done it again—produced a beautiful, perfect sweater for Lucas in less than two weeks. It’s his favorite color, turquoise. She used an acrylic yarn by Caron “Simply Soft” because she likes the way it washes and dries in the dryer. I like that, too, for my ever-muddy boys.

She used a seed stitch and a basketweave stitch—both of which are completely beyond my understanding and skill.

It’s wonderful having a grandma who make such beautiful things. My sons have drawers-full of handknit socks and a closet-full (they have to share one) full to bursting with grandma’s sweaters. Now if only I could convince the little guy that “fuzzy” is a good quality in a sweater.

These holy, family days have been so full. We are enjoying. Resting.

Coloring.

Playing with so, so many wonderful gifts.

We have had long, luxurious visits from friends, and a sweet party that we are very honored to host.

The little dog, Solstice, is a great joy to us all. We still don’t know where he is from. We haven’t had even a single nibble on the ads we placed, hoping to find his owners. In the meantime, whatever the outcome, we are enjoying him ever so much. And now I have someone new and fluffy to point my camera at.

We’ve been reading new books in our leisure and drinking too much delicious coffee. Nursing head colds.

Experimenting with magical ice … to see what we can make, of course.

Cutting snowflakes and folding window stars. (LOVE!)

After all the working>making>striving>doing>going> leading up to and including Christmas day, we are now fully and happily settled into our hibernation days, our holy, family days. There is plenty to do—very little of it is urgent. So perhaps we’ll do some laundry. Or cook. Or play more Legos or a game. Or go for another walk instead …

Or climb a tree …

while we learn more about each other …

and see what we can find along the way.

Ian

I am grateful for …

your humor

your smile

your ceaseless, devoted love

your boundless curiosity and need to know

your intelligence and courage

the way you hold me at night and I melt into you

how I can always find safety in your arms

your tireless caretaking and delicious cooking

the way you will play Legos for hours, create movies and games, build with, cook with, read to

and otherwise spend time with our children

they soak up every moment with you

the way you do the things I don’t want to do because you want to spare me

the way shield me from news or stories that will hurt me

our sweet children,

with all their random noises and sticky fingers and smelly feet

how they are intense and playful

learn every moment,

and trust that their world is safe and beautiful

because it is

they are the gifts we gave to and share with each other

and they crack open my heart to make it bigger every day

our health

and healthy relationships

our community of creative darlings

and loving family

how we are nestled in among all these loving people

who share with us their stories and wisdom and passions

our beautiful, wacky home

with its hundreds of colors and clutter of goofy, artistic treasures

its happy memeories

its fullness and warmth

its laughter and chaos and rhythms

how it always has enough

the way we are always filling it up with our friends

the garden, which is our labor of love

that pleases me with each blossom and every leaf

and reminds me to celebrate small things

These things, and so many more, are my blessings and I’m grateful for all that we are and all that we have built together—for so many of my blessings circle back to you, my love.

Darling boy, I usually reserve these letters for birthdays. But I feel the need to write you today, on your first day of fourth grade, and tell you how proud I am of you. You are embarking on what I’m certain is going to be an amazing year. I see your skills blooming every day, and I know that you are ready to take on the world. I am delighted in your many interests. I am astounded by your can-do attitude. I think you have wowed me every day of your life.

I know that some things come easily for you—being creative and solving problems are your superpowers, I think. I also know that you’re going to have to learn some new skills, new discipline, and good habits that will carry your natural talents to the next level. You will be tasked with bigger projects and more involved work. Homework is part of our journey this year. Spelling tests will continue. I am not sure how to teach you to care about these things; I hope that you will automatically, now that you’re older. I am not saying that it’s good to live or die by these things (certainly my own obsession with grades often worked against my best interests). But I do want you to strive. How does a parent teach that?

I don’t know. We’ll be learning together, that much is sure. Our collective brilliance will need some focus this year, of that I am certain. My hope is that we can learn to work effectively together in this new way.

I love you. Here we go!

Mama

To all my loves who are packing up and heading to that big, dusty dinner plate in Nevada for Burning Man,

Be well and safe. Revel. Unhook from your cares. Bounce around, shake your body. Cry a little. Use sunblock. Question everything. Rest and HYDRATE. Celebrate; it is YOUR TIME. Make love. Experience a whole solar day, dawn to dusk. Meet new friends. Be funny; be also kind. Ruminate. Shout really loud. Take naps. Eat some. Waltz in your stompy black boots. Pedal your bike as fast as you can. Leave no trace. Climb something big. Set something on fire. Take care of people. Stay up all night. Feel connected and FREE. Say yes.

Yes, I’m feeling sad I can’t be with you. Yes, this is a corny, romantic sendoff. Yes.

(I wrote this last night and then my computer hiccuped and I gave up.) Happy Belated Father’s Day to my dad, who is a marvel and a rock. He is always there for me. I love you, Dad! I didn’t get to spend Father’s Day with my dad this year, but I know he’s having fun right now.

We did spend part of yesterday with Ian’s dad and Mimi, and had a marvelous lunch. We enjoyed Ian’s amazing grilled chicken (cooked on his new-for-Father’s Day grill), strawberry almond green salad, corn on the cob, and oatmeal raisin walnut bread. GG and Mimi brought the salad and a homemade apple pie that was to die for!

And for the record, there’s no one else in the world I’d rather be raising children with. My beloved husband Ian is a wonderful father in every way.

It’s the end of the school year. There are four more days of school left and then it’s twelve weeks of summer vacation for Lucas. Normally at this time of year I’d be panicking, wondering what the hell we are going to do during twelve weeks “off.”

OK, the truth is, part of my brain IS doing exactly that because I am both full-time mommy and full-time professional editor. Try as I might, I have yet to figure out how to be fully effective at doing two vastly different jobs at once.

Twelve weeks. Somehow the camp options are fewer this summer, and I just know that there are going to be yawning weeks of hot, drawn-out days. You’ve heard me sing this song before. That’s not why I’m writing now.

Just now. This is why I’m writing. This exact moment I’m so awestruck by my child. My 9-year-old has me feeling just boggled, and not for any one thing, but for all of him.

Today he brought home some of his third-grade schoolwork. Not reams of mimeographed math problem practice sheets, but his own watercolor paintings. His crocheted potholder. His hand-carded, handspun and plied yarn.

While Ian was preparing dinner, Lucas was out in the backyard, shooting homemade arrows at targets with his most recent handmade bow.

During dinner, Lucas told us the story of Moses and the Hebrew people wandering the in the desert. This was a treat for us because he doesn’t always want to talk about what’s going on at school. I marveled at how parts of the story were so well-crafted, as if he had absorbed whole phrases of the narrative word for word because the pictures in his mind responded to them. He also told us he got to shovel manure today—and that he’s aware he’ll be doing a lot of that sort of thing next year because the fourth grade does the animal chores on the school farm. We discussed how interesting the Norse myths will be next year.

After dinner tonight, he played for us a piano sonatina. It has three movements and is about six pages of music, with plenty of repeats and codas. His sonatina is not perfect. Some sections are played faster than others. There are rough patches that we hope he will iron out through practice before his next piano recital in a couple of weeks. But, damn! My kid just made music out of nothing but his knowledge and skill and feeling.

Who is this capable being standing before me?

I cannot promise to be the perfect, carefree mom all summer. I will not promise to keep him entertained through the dog days. All I can promise is to try to meet him where he is now, which is most certainly not where he was a year or a month ago. Now is new, and brave and capable and lovely.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you talented, sexy, competent, clever, thoughtful, giving, resourceful, beautiful mamas. You are both the backbone and the safety net of the whole world. Your work is vital. We see you and we thank you.