I like to rise when the sun she rises

Lovely - the house clothed in darkness, slowly waking with the sun.
Less lovely - getting ready for school and work during a power outage.

My cell phone alarm woke me at 6am this morning. There were no lights on in the room - we have a few that come on over the course of the early morning to help us get out of bed during these dark mornings, so it was a clear indicator that something was amiss. No power. And then shortly there after we got a call from the school that due to the power outage school would have a two hour delayed start. So we lingered in bed, Mama and two boys snuggling together, until the sky was light and two boys decided rough housing was better than snuggling and got kicked out of bed.

We had hot enough water, so I got a shower. Although I regretted the cold wet hair. I did wonder what cold lunch to pack for the kids - they are spoiled by dinner leftovers heated and keeping warm in a thermos most days. If only we had a gas stove! As it turned out we got 45 minutes of power before either kid had to get to school - long enough for the hair dryer, water kettle and microwave to all do their jobs. Nathan caught the bus in and Liam got dropped off (we'll have to call the bus company next time there is a delay and let them know we'll be waiting for them). We got power back from real shortly after noon.

It's nice waking with the sun - too bad the timing doesn't work well for public school or work days. And how a gas stove has moved much higher up the house improvement list.

Back to school fighting

Some families do back to school shopping - it appears we do back to school fighting.

For most of the summer we kept up a routine that would transition well back into the school year - the kids were up around 6:30, got themselves dressed, had breakfast, and got on with their day. But wouldn't you know, as the start of the school year approaches, and we try to squeeze more into our days, resulting in later bedtimes and overtired children, they are now easily sleeping until 7am and many attempts at a morning routine end in a fight. At least once school starts there will be no questions about why all these things have to be done in the morning because with school as the end point the answer will be obvious? I'm hoping so.

In the meantime, my goal is to keep squeezing as much out of the last days of summer as we can, striving for more patience in the morning, and getting everyone to bed closer to on time. We'll see how it goes...

August 8th

One of my best friends from high school and I are almost exactly a year apart - her birthday just two days after mine. And so each year on July 30th we celebrate Same Age Day - the one day a year when, numerically, we are the same age.

I'm not great at knowing when things are (from knowing birthdays off the top of my head, to the start date of a planned vacation) but the real problem is that I'm TERRIBLE at knowing what today is (so while I might know your birth date off the top of my head I'll probably still miss it not realizing that today is that date). So why then did yesterday, August 8th, feel like a date that was easy to hold onto all day, and a date that for some reason I should remember? have memory attached to?

Thanks to the modern wonder that is Google Photo "Rediscover this Day" I was shown that 5 years ago August 8th was our one day home with Liam before he went back into the NICU. Like a not fun version of Same Age Day - more like Cape Cod traffic changeover day? a hinge day between one NICU and the next?

After 55 days in the BIDMC NICU, we woke up as a family of four all under one roof. We spent the day with family stopping by, walking up and down the street with a baby who didn't seem quite comfortable and as the day progressed couldn't really settled, and then after Nathan went to bed I drove to the Winchester emergency room very concerned about his breathing. He was in the Winchester NICU for another week before finally coming home for good on August 15th.

And yet, now August 8th is just a date that I don't usually notice, although for some reason this year I did. What a gift to have let that chapter (for the most part) go.

Thoughts on Baseball

Nathan is playing baseball for the first time this year.

To look at us, we just might look like a hardcore sports family: Mom, Dad, Little Brother and Grammy are the minimum in attendance at the start of each game; we have folding chairs and picnic dinner & snacks in tow, all to really just watching 1st and 2nd graders figure this whole baseball thing out.

The truth is, we are a hardcore music family, and Mom and Dad both have rehearsals on alternating games nights and no one wants to show up to rehearsal cold or hungry, so everyone being at the start of every game with all the things is the only way for anyone to end up where they need to be later in the evening, warm, fed and ready.

Also true is that we have an amazing 8 year old who is naturally good at lots of sports and is patient with his parents who don't really know the kids sport team world but are willing to learn. It probably helps that he also really likes music.

Mozart and Snark

Driving to Grandma and Grandpa's house earlier today we had our local classical radio station on because Mama was sick of all the options Liam was suggesting and Nathan wasn't interested in weighing in. We also headed out in mid conversation, so no one was really listening to the music anyway.

The conversation died down and Liam started to grumble a bit about the music and then all was quiet until I heard from the back seat:

"Mumble mumble mumble Mozart."
"What Nathan?"
"MOZART"
"What about Mozart?"
"THIS is Mozart."
"Are you sure?"
"YES (complete with audible eye roll)"

We all start listening carefully. Liam, who is always reluctant to agree with his brother until he has first disagreed say it's Vivaldi or Beethoven or Schubert (hey - listing composers names is a start) and then agrees it is Mozart. I was unconvinced. Until the second movement began. And it was most definitely Mozart.

Nathan, quietly from the back seat: "Told you Mama..."

Mozart was followed by Bach, who we all agreed on right away.

So name that composer continues, now with a dash of snark.