The Lurking Phase

For those of you who have been around kids, a lot, you know that they are sponges, constantly absorbing your every move: watching you when you think they are not, taking cues from you and your choices, behavior, etc.  From the moment they arrive they are forever observing. They soak it all up and even mimic what they witness in an attempt to sort out their world.  You realize some of this when your little one innocently spurts out an explicative after spilling his milk. You stare at your spouse in stunned silence wondering which of you he heard it from. (Uh, not that this is a true story or anything, just giving you an example.) 

But now that my children are a bit older I have come to terms with the reality of their keen observing skills and their amazing curiosity, making adjustments to my own behavior (ahem) and purposefully working on my role as a parent in offering them a healthy model to observe (with a bit of grace thrown in for the times I botch it).

But now (Lord help me)....now my children have entered the lurking phase (as I have come to recently call it). I noticed in the last few months (especially with my 10 year old--who has always had an extra dose of curiosity) that they are subtle (but not so subtle) about their observing: they lurk. They float, hover, a few feet away with the intent to "listen in" on my conversations. They come into the room to ask me what's for dinner while peering over my shoulder (major pet peeve)... 

• reading my emails ("Why are you telling So and So that she can't come by our house tomorrow? We'll be here...")
  
• picking apart my Facebook status updates ("Why did you just say OMG?")
• assessing my on line bank balance ("You only have $6 left in your checking account?!?")
• reviewing the contents of my Amazon cart ("Who's that Fancy Nancy book for?")

Yes, it's just a down right case of nosiness. Quietly lurking with the intent to gather information...until their curiosity gets the better of them. 

Case A:

While having a quiet intense conversation with my spouse in the kitchen we might suddenly be interrupted by a child (who is sitting on the toilet) yelling, "What did So and So say?!?! ---I couldn't hear that part!"

Case B: 

My phone beeps, signaling a text. I am upstairs but my son has heard the beep. He brings me my phone (while I am on the toilet) and informs me that I have a text. I thank him and take the phone. He steps back with the appearance of leaving but then cannot contain himself any longer. "Who is it?" "Aren't you going to read it?" "What will you write back?"

Sometimes I satisfy their curiosity by offering up the goods: "Seriously Zach, it's just the linoleum guy wanting to know when he can come fix the floor boards." Or, "I've texted Kathy to say that the bag of clothes is on the porch." 

But more often than not I take the easy way out and say, "Nothing that concerns you, it's no big deal." To which I then get the reply, "Then if it's not a big deal why won't you tell me?"

This is where I stare back at them and wonder what my life has come to when I am narrating every single move of my life for an audience of two who will not give up their lurking nosey ways until every last question is answered. (When you have a crazy curious son like mine you feel as if you have been narrating your life for the last 10 years--that's a long time.) 

I know full well that this is yet another stage of development: watching the adult world around them with the need to be a part of it and make sense of it--despite their lack of emotional maturity to handle it. They lurk because the need to know is like a drug. To which I, the adult, have the fix. Without it they may grow anxious or worry or make assumptions, jump to conclusions. And the magnifying lens they use to lurk with is too distorted to make sense of this world if I am not there to help them bring things into focus. 

This is why even though we have many conversations about being intrusive and nosey (and why it is not appropriate to huddle at the top of the stairs--when you should be in bed--and listen to mommy and daddy's conversation), I am still daily needing to appropriately weigh the myriad of "need to know" and "not need to know" details of my life and the adult world...and which of those I will give away like a drug to feed the need.

I do not know when this phase ends or if it ever does. I guess we all have a need to lurk and peek, to gather information. But please, I pray, let it come to some sort of pass so I can stop the narrating.  

(Facebook posts are on the "not need to know" list.)

And the story behind this would be....?

A. Someone offered my husband a foosball table, and after consulting with me over the garage logistics and deciding we would take it, informed our son and our disinterested daughter, and spent the next four hours cleaning the garage preparing for its arrival...after which we all stood around and spent quality family fun time playing rounds of foosball.

Or...

B. Someone offered my husband a foosball table, and after emailing me his desire to take it (and me responding with a hesitant "yes"), went and borrowed my dad's truck and picked it up and brought it home and stuffed it in our garage...after which he then proceeded to whip my son's a** in game after game, all while my disinterested daughter stood by like a teenager and pouted that she was "bored".

(How humiliated am I at revealing the state of our garage? Please let me just explain that it is not always like this, but at the time of shooting, it was painfully so, and causing me great anxiety, I might add.)

Raspberry Girl

It is the only way to eat raspberries.

Oh, and you have to partake while wearing a coordinating shirt.

It feels like I should be breaking out in song...

"Ten little raspberries sitting atop her hand,

One plopped into her mouth,

And then there were nine.

Nine little raspberries sitting atop her hand..."

real play

There is a big empty field across the street from us that has become the neighborhood kids' playground. It's a field that is waiting for a housing development, when the economy comes out of its desolate winter. Until then, the kids have taken it over: bike jumps, dirt pits, forts, rock piles. It's the quintessential kid's stomping ground, complete with an abandoned baby doll that my kids tell me no one will touch because Nic peed on it one day. (nice)

When the weather is beautiful the kids head out and find random pieces of dumped junk (just last week it was a treadmill) and use them to build their forts. 

They collect leaves and grass for their food, and set up camp.

And they spend the last remaining hours of sunlight playing in their "homes".

Sometimes I sneak out there and grab some pictures and pine away at the amazing light and beg my daughter to pose just for one second. Today she obliged. (Thanks Bean)

It all reminds me of growing up across from a huge plum orchard: spending summer days out there playing "house", gorging on plums, spotting jack rabbits and snakes. The day our friends sold their orchard I cried. My family stood at the kitchen window watching the big tractors pluck out the plum trees and toss them aside.

I will have that same feeling when I see the construction trucks pulling up across the street. The days of my kid's "real play" will be plucked away and we will have to look else where for that special place where they can be free and let their imaginations run wild.

Things were a little wild and goofy...

I called up one of my bestest friends this morning and told her I had a block of time this afternoon to come down and take some pictures of her kids. She's the spontaneous, wild and crazy type (wink) so she said, "come on up!" We took a little jaunt down town expecting to take some nice pictures of the kids together. Sweet and innocent, calm and...fun. 

Maybe they were just excited to see their Aunty Tracey, but it was if they had eaten their entire sack of Halloween candy in one sitting, they were incredibly goofy, unable to stand sit/stand still. Wild and crazy kiddos they were!

There was a little bit of this... 

And this too...

But even though it was a little wild and crazy I managed to catch this...

(those eyes!)

And this...

(those curls are to die for!)

When I saw these pix I thought of that Petula Clark song, "Downtown"

And then back at home I finally got them to sit together and be brotherly/sisterly. 

(They are truly the sweetest kids.)  

I'm sure their mama is glad they are in bed right now. All that excitement!

Yeah for a new chair!

Since moving into our new house over a year ago, I have moved very slowly in the decorating department. Mainly because after years of being surrounded by white rental walls, I just am overwhelmed at the directions I can take to make my nest nifty and fun and cool. And well, it takes a bit of cash-o-la too and I am saving up for other things--like a new camera. But after setting a "home budget" a few months ago I have given myself the freedom to finally begin making some purchases. Last month it was this little chair. After seeing it in a friend's house I decided I would get it too. Totally frivolous--like I should have spent my money on a coffee table (of which I totally need) or bath mats or something practical like that--but I decided to just go for it. Today I looked like a maniac lugging this chair across the street to put it in some decent light. My daughter was eager to sit in it being that sitting in a fun chair out in the park is quite novel. 

I will probably be looking at this chair in 20 years, saying: "I don't know what I was thinking--I thought it was so cool back then."  Kinda like my mom did when she finally got rid of her god--awful avocado green living room chairs (the ones I took a gold crayon to when I was little--oops).

More from yesterday...

Thought I'd post a few more of yesterday seeing as how I am having fun going through them and of course need to share. Of course Jodi did not let us down, she pulled out her secrets for a cool jumping-over-the-family shot. (See kids, I told you that taking pictures with Jodi would be fun.)

My hubby has mad vertical skills (served him well for his favorite college pastime-beach volleyball--he was a good blocker) but it took him a while to master the smile and jump combo. My son also could not keep from flinching every time his dad sailed over him. Bean and I, on the other hand, kept this same pose through all of them. (We're girls--we can multi-task.) 

A candid family moment you ask? Yes yes, very candid. Zach told a hilarious joke...or so we pretended.

And here are more of the beautiful Miss Jodi and her adorable family. I'm saving the rest to share as I don't want to spoil her Christmas cards. :) But dang, isn't her family just so magazine'ish?

There are more pix on Jodi's nifty site. Please visit her and scroll through her posts. 

She's a lot of fun!

My turn!

A while ago I asked a sweet friend of mine, Jodi, to snap some pictures of my family--having good intentions to send out Christmas cards this year. (Don't hold me to it!) I wanted to do something fun and she is crazy creative and pro with a camera. We struck a deal: she would snap my family and I would snap hers. Right on! Oh, and she had scouted out a fun place down town with old buildings and brick walls. A fun urban setting. 

I am still editing away but here are a few of her family. 

These are her two boys, Big C and Little E--both with killer hair and shoes. Their baby sister, is due in January. She will be one lucky and loved little sis.

Right at the end of our shoot the train came roaring through town. While Jodi captured the faces of delight, I couldn't help but catch Jodi doing what she does best.

Ok, below--my favorite one of the entire shoot. (And there were lots to choose from!) It's a rare chance I get to be in a fun, beautiful picture with my hubby. (Jodi--if this was the only shot you took, I would still be completely satisfied.)

Thanks Jodi!

My daughter's creativity and humor at its finest

Happy Friday!

Copper (a.k.a. "Chicken")

When we arrived at Bean's horse riding lesson today, we were greeted by Copper. Miss Jenn's sidekick. He met us at the car and then proceeded to do quiet circles around us all the way over to the barn, herding us along. Immediately he grabbed a stick and parked himself at our feet. (Actually he protectively parked right by Bean, the littlest of us all.) Once the riding lesson began I walked him over to the far end of the pasture and played fetch. Miss Jenn warned me that he would not quit--he loved his stick. I grabbed my camera thinking I would snap a few pictures of him in the afternoon sun, running with his stick. But every time I stooped to aim the camera in his direction he grew shy. Seriously, he was a chicken. This is him in all his shyness...

(Imagine me softly saying, "It's okay Cooper, come here Cooper, you're alright Cooper.") 

This is a typical shot I caught of him fetching the stick. I am shooting from the hip here, praying I will at least get him in the frame. A split second after this shot he spotted my camera, cut right, flew down the hill, around the tree, and came at me from my backside and then dropped the stick behind me. Not kidding. This happened every time. That chicken.

But I loved him. :) He's the kind of dog every kid wants for a best friend. Quietly by your side, always ready with a stick, eager to be with you, but oozing with sweetness and loyalty. At the end of our fun we were walking along, my camera swung over my shoulder. I nonchalantly snapped a picture of him as he looked up at me. Look at him...he's wearing a little smile on his face, just happy to be with me.

You may be a big chicken Copper, but I was happy to be with you too. :)