“Princess! Listen to my words! You stay by me. I will betect [protect] you in the Land of Car! I am a warrior,” Asher explained as we wandered down the road early in the morning, heading generally in the direction of preschool.

We fought a dragon on the way. “Ting! Ting! Ting! Ting! Shink!” I’m sure I saw the tree stump cower.

We found some interesting things to look at: some pretty leaves, some goopy, leaf-choked puddles. Some lawns are covered in stars of all colors.

A car almost squished us. “Look out, Princess! It’s very dangerous!”

Having a warrior along while walking through the neighborhood can be a big help. It can also be somewhat … hair-raising. Warriors who are “7 years old” (really 3.75) are erratic at the best of times. Sometimes they dawdle, examining every stick along the way. Sometimes they rush haphazardly—forward, or even sideways. Sideways makes me nervous in the morning school drop-off traffic—the Land of Car.

“Princess! This is a magic puddle! I have to walk in it. How ’bout you be my mama duck Princess and I be your baby duck warrior?”

We walked a little closer to school. We balanced on white painted curbs. We watched the squirrels and the birds.

“Mama, I’m a betective. That means I’m in charge and I betect people. I train good dragons and kill only bad dragons. I ride on a dragon!”

We passed moms and dads hurrying their kids to the local school. Some of them smile at us.

“Mom, I’m gonna teach you how to run fast.” Perhaps we would get there faster if we ran, but honestly I would miss the meandering. I see and hear more when we go slowly.

Inspired by SouleMama {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

The piano top nature table was in need of freshening, a new look for this increasingly frosty season. This one features handmade gnomes of several types, an old, lacy white baby blanket, a handwoven cloth that I made many years ago that’s now a cozy cave, hand-dipped and assorted candles, bare branches, and a string of lights inside wicker balls. I love these, and must look for more.

In my house full of boys, this is about as close as I get to playing with dolls.

It hardly feels much like November, with so many recent days over 70 degrees!

Wild grape leaves in the woods near the Sacramento Waldorf School

Swan at the Palace of Fine Arts Theater in San Francisco

Lucas with the golden cherry leaves in our yard

Neighborhood tree in the morning

The blackest liquidambar leaves I’ve ever seen. The boys and I found these at Fair Oaks Park.

A fallen tree star (also liquidambar) in Asher’s hand

Scarlet dogwood berries; little black and gray birds are eating them up

A neighbor’s lawn

The crepe myrtle that hangs into my backyard.

Lucas has just passed his half birthday, bringing him to the ripe old age of 8 and a half. And although I took these photos about a month ago, to me they capture something of his present age. This is my sensitive, clever boy flying through the air, determined, sure-footed, and courageous. He knows his capabilities. He can plan his footfalls, and he can adapt and switch course if he needs to.

He is self-assured and confident. He often marches into unknown territory with aplomb. His place in the universe is known and secure.

But there is still plenty of room for striving, for challenging himself, for testing and experimenting. It’s imperative. He must negotiate his way through space, through relationships, through his own needs and self-knowledge. He knows that he might get hurt, but he also knows he will heal if he does.

Sometimes he falls short or is disappointed. Sometimes he takes blows to his ego. Sometimes, despite all our efforts, he feels unloved and unwanted. He sits in judgment on himself and sometimes he doesn’t like what he sees. This too, is part of his age. He’s right where he’s supposed to be, figuring out who he is, and where and in what ways he is separate from others.

At this moment, he’s preparing to leave home. He has been planning an adventure for a few days now—one that he’s going on all by himself. He needs some freedom, he tells us. (At first his plan was to spend a whole day and night away, on his own, but that’s been modulated down to a more reasonable bike ride to his friends’ house a few blocks away. He knows to call me when he arrives there.)

Carpe diem! He is ready. He has a backpack full of provisions—lunch, a magnifying glass, and notebooks for any scientific discoveries he might make along the way. He also has his wand, just in case any bad guys or Dementors hassle him. He has his instructions and air in his tires. He knows his phone number.

Ah. That’s the bell on his bike. I hear it ringing as he rides out of the driveway, shouting good-bye. He made sure to give me a big hug and kiss, and gave some to his dad and brother, too. I saw the sparkle in his eyes. He is full of both our concern and our trust. He is feeling big, and capable, and sure.

Fare thee well, my sweet son.

Inspired by SouleMama {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Farm equipment at Capay Organics

Backyard zenias and verbena in the late afternoon sun

Pumpkin patch at Capay Organics

Sun decorating Grandma and Papa’s garden fence

Mossy rock at my parents’ home

Fallen leaf art

Michaelmas evening sky

Tulip tree turning

Grandma’s old-fashioned roses

There are many, many benefits of preschool. I know not everyone will agree with me about this; some parents just love having their little ones at home until they reach Kindergarten age, and more power to them. But as Ian and I both work, we have almost always needed some day care. Preschool has always brought enriching experiences to our children.

In addition to all the great friendships preschoolers build and socialization they acquire by being with small groups of children for some portion of their week, preschool also offers us parents a new perspective on our kids. You know how sometimes it’s hard to see something that you’re around day after day? Well, sometimes it’s hard to notice when kids are ready for something new, something more challenging. Over the years, our kids’ teachers have gently pointed out to us many important growth spurts we might not otherwise have noticed, for example, “Your child is so cooperative when it’s time to clean up the toys.” Really? Sometimes our sons tell us themselves that they’ve grown up a bit more, thanks to the influence of their teachers: “Lucas, it’s not polite to have your elbows on the table.” Manners 102.

The other day I picked up Asher from preschool and saw him swinging on the tree swing in the yard. Imagine that! I had no idea he was ready for the big-boy swing yet because I had stopped noticing the baby swing on our backyard swing set. I didn’t notice him not fitting in it so well anymore. I didn’t notice that he had stopped asking to be pushed on the swing.

Perspective. I got to see Asher in a new light away from home, to see that he can do something altogether new and with gusto.

So we took down the baby swing and put up a low-to-the ground big-boy swing. Wow.

With a Twist …

“We thank you for our day,
We thank you for our friends and family,—”

“—Especially Daddy!”

“Yes. We thank you for each other,—”

“—Especially Daddy!”

“We thank you for our good health,—”

“—Especially Daddy!”

“We thank you for our big, beautiful earth,—”

“—Especially Daddy!”

“And we thank you for our rest.”

“Especially Daddy!”

“Especially Daddy. Blessed be.”

Inspired by SouleMama {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.