It started with a jolly walk home from school and ended with hammock battles, not on the agenda, and in between we painted a mural on the fence beside the play area, and chalked up the bricks, and devoured pizza, ate cake and jello and cool whip (yikes!) while swinging on swings and sitting in the play structure, and the boy turned eight. He really did. He’s a lovely boy and it’s so easy to be proud of him. He is warm-hearted, a true big brother, open to experiences, enthusiastic, who delights to eat just about anything, earnest, with the ability to focus deeply, sometimes bursting with energy, noisy, the noisiest child on the block sometimes, and yet, able to find calmness, too. He works hard, plays hard, sleeps soundly. I didn’t get any fabulous photos of him at the party, but here is one from this morning, just woken up eight-years-old, and about to open his first gift (from sister Fooey). It’s not a great photo either, but he looks like the boy I know so well.
Wherever you've come from, wherever you're going, consider this space a place for reflection and pause. Thank you for stopping by. Your comments are welcome.
Subscribe to receive posts in your inbox
My name is Carrie Snyder. I'm a fiction writer, reader, editor, dreamer, arts organizer, workshop leader, forever curious. I believe words are powerful, storytelling is healing, and art is for everyone.
Books for sale (signed & personalized)
Adventure Art Backyard Baking Big Thoughts Birth Birthdays Blogging Book Review Books Cartoons Chores Coaching Confessions Cooking Current events Death Dogs Drawing Dream Driving Exercise Fall Family Feminism Fire Francie's Got A Gun Friends Fun Girl Runner Good News Holidays House Kevin Kids Laundry Lists Local Food Lynda Barry Manifest Meditation Money Morning Mothering Music Organizing Parenting Peace Photos Play Politics Publicity Publishing Reading Readings Recipes Running School Siblings Sick Sleep Soccer Source Space Spirit Spring Stand Success Summer Swimming Teaching The Juliet Stories Travel Uncategorized Weekend Winter Word of the Year Work Writing Yoga