I love the little bits of boyhood I find in his pockets.

While walking out of Riley's room, arms filled with dirty clothes, this caught my eye...
(Click on image to enlarge.)

He is the best laundry companion I have ever had.

I am not a Buddhist, nor am I a Christian. I am not a Jainist, either. Yet, I ponder the universe in all its complexity. I do not seek ultimate answers, but mere reminders of my small place in this vast existence. Reminders of the importance of being a good person and the power of love and energy. That is how this White Tara found her way into my home 8 years ago. I visited her in the store on SE Hawthorne Street many times for the better part of a year before finally bringing her home. Sometimes she goes unnoticed for long stretches. But, then she'll catch my eye, like she did today with the snow squall swirling behind her, so I dust her off, and remember what she stands for...compassion, wisdom, and healing. And then I go on with my day.

This photo is only acceptable because the throwing up incident had already occurred. He is just practicing, you see.

Came upon this while searching through old photos for Riley's school project. Nathan took it last summer and I couldn't resist posting it.

Causing pain in order to relieve pain is a pretty big life lesson, if only for a splinter.

I think we may have outgrown our house.  It is getting way fancy around these parts.

Once in a while a Daddy Double Bedtime leads to this...

January 17, 2003 was unseasonably warm and gorgeously sunny in Portland, OR.  It was the perfect backdrop for the surreal experience of driving baby Riley home from the Birthing Center.  Seven (7!!) years later I have this intelligent, sweet, funny, strong, sensitive, crazy big boy.  How the days slip one into the other to arrive here, I don't know.  But I am immensley grateful for the journey and the company! 

Yesterday I got a call from school saying Riley had fallen on his face skating.  I found him sitting behind the front desk waiting with Melissa and an icepack.  After stories of his bravery and a closer inspection we ended up at the denstist an hour later.  Amazingly, by then the swelling had already gone down considerably and he didn't even need an x-ray.  One front tooth is still a bit loose...but that's okay.  Thank goodness for babyteeth!

I'm sure glad that my babylove is a strapping handsome boy, but he actually would make a sweet little girl, no?

For today I've enjoyed not being able to cook.  Talk to me in a few days and we'll see...

"Sure, Mom, you can take my picture.  Ready...now!"

'Twas a rather grand exit for a wee little gingerbread house.

(**I meant to post this yesterday, but forgot!  So, it's an encore for today.**)
I went down to the Meadows, are you ready for this?  All - by - myself.  I had this wondrous place to myself also, except for the lone man and his dog a ways away in their ice house.  I hiked through the wind blown snow out to the shoveled path around the island.  Glinding off I went.  Around and around and around.  Until a body cringing sound of cracking  ice left me slightly shaken.  There really was no danger.  Only the shifting of the ice plates settling into a new position.  Still, I sought safety in a new location.

Friday.  Some sledding at Memorial in the snowfall...the whole hill to ourselves.  A little thrown together dinner.  Some guitar playing and singing. A lot of crazy running around and screaming joyously and LOUDLY.  A little pre-bedtime reading.  And finally into bed.  A fabulous afternoon and evening, if I do say so myself. 

Toe Pick! 

After all the excitement, food, drink, family, friends, music, skating, midnight revelry, fireworks, and fun...
today feels blissfully boring, ordinary, and rhythmic.