an end and a beginning
I was planning to sit down at my computer this morning and write a post about all our goings on…
But instead I find myself sitting down at this screen with tear stained cheeks.
Emma lost her cat Henry this morning. We found him on the road in front of our house just a few hours ago. He was the cat that came with us from Wisconsin, to live in the apartment on my grandparent's farm when we moved to Maryland, and finally here to Thomas Run. He was the first of what has grown into many pets and animals and cats for our family. But he was always there. Showing up at every morning round of chores. We are so heart-broken.
But with every end their is a new beginning.
There is a story that I have been waiting to tell all of you. Anxiously holding the news close to my heart for the last two months as details have been worked out. But I also knew that it wasn't my story to tell first.
I hope you'll take a moment to read Sarah's words, and learn of the new and the good for our family. And what brings tears of gratitude to my eyes this morning as well.
Sorrow and wonder, all in the same breath.
(We are heading to the ocean…Dan is caring for the animals, and diving into some variety of house projects while we are away. More from me next week.)
xo, my friends.
Molly
I was planning to sit down at my computer this morning and write a post about all our goings on…
But instead I find myself sitting down at this screen with tear stained cheeks.
Emma lost her cat Henry this morning. We found him on the road in front of our house just a few hours ago. He was the cat that came with us from Wisconsin, to live in the apartment on my grandparent's farm when we moved to Maryland, and finally here to Thomas Run. He was the first of what has grown into many pets and animals and cats for our family. But he was always there. Showing up at every morning round of chores. We are so heart-broken.
But with every end their is a new beginning.
There is a story that I have been waiting to tell all of you. Anxiously holding the news close to my heart for the last two months as details have been worked out. But I also knew that it wasn't my story to tell first.
I hope you'll take a moment to read Sarah's words, and learn of the new and the good for our family. And what brings tears of gratitude to my eyes this morning as well.
Sorrow and wonder, all in the same breath.
(We are heading to the ocean…Dan is caring for the animals, and diving into some variety of house projects while we are away. More from me next week.)
xo, my friends.
Molly
Fireman
{A Post from Mary}:
I live with a four year old fireman. Having raised three children through different stages of obsessions…..horses, kittens, bulldozers….I am not unfamiliar with the pattern. So far, in my experience, the interests shift and change over time. And I usually do my best to be interested in their current love. We check out library books, usually cleaning out an entire shelf on one topic while the librarian raises her eyebrows. Gifts are given at birthdays. Special trips. The usual. But my youngest, Aiden, is stuck. Stuck with a love for firemen.
I enrolled him in a nursery school. Right next to the fire station.
There was the super realistic fireman outfit given by a sister in law—worn every day, no matter how hot it got. Seeing his face reddened and sweat beading up on his brow, but him being still determined to sport his getup like a real fireman would.
Fireman boots.
Fireman movies.
Fireman apps.
Playing at the playgrounds with, you guessed it, the tall fireman poles. We are beyond the typical "Stop, Drop and Roll! " He knows all about guages, detectors, extinguishers and hoses. Rolls and rolls of toilet paper unrolled and carried through the house as his "hose".
Making him an "air tank" out of a 2 liter bottle, some ribbon, foil and leftover nebulizer tubing.
Parking at our local grocery store, always in the space next to the one where the hydrant is. Letting him have "hydrant time" while I sit in the car and peruse the store flier. Multiple trips to the station to see the trucks and talk about fire with the very nice firefighters there. Random stops along the street to get out and see particularly nice hydrants.
Receiving a real fireman mask from a friend. And hoping he will only sleep with it and not put it on in the middle of the night. Knowing which public restrooms have the sprinkler systems or other smoke detectors to see. And faking the need to use the bathroom just to go see them. And talking about it. Talking about anything fire. My mom has one story from when a heat lamp in the barn caused a near fire, but the whole fire fighting crew came out. She has told and retold that story.
Seeing him get up on the stage at our latest 4-H meeting, in front of 50 people and without any hesitation, and do his own impromptu talk on firefighters without a shred of insecurity.
So last night, when I hastily finished the dinner dishes to go stand guard as he climbed up and down a ladder,
in only his briefs,
taking his mask on and off, as practice,
I tried to remember the days before the obsession with firemen. It has almost been a year, I think. And as much as I have learned about firefighting as we both have been through this journey, I am wondering if this is just going to be his thing. He wants to be a firefighter.
And you know what?
I am good with that. He will be a good one.
{A Post from Mary}:
I live with a four year old fireman. Having raised three children through different stages of obsessions…..horses, kittens, bulldozers….I am not unfamiliar with the pattern. So far, in my experience, the interests shift and change over time. And I usually do my best to be interested in their current love. We check out library books, usually cleaning out an entire shelf on one topic while the librarian raises her eyebrows. Gifts are given at birthdays. Special trips. The usual. But my youngest, Aiden, is stuck. Stuck with a love for firemen.
I enrolled him in a nursery school. Right next to the fire station.
There was the super realistic fireman outfit given by a sister in law—worn every day, no matter how hot it got. Seeing his face reddened and sweat beading up on his brow, but him being still determined to sport his getup like a real fireman would.
Fireman boots.
Fireman movies.
Fireman apps.
Playing at the playgrounds with, you guessed it, the tall fireman poles. We are beyond the typical "Stop, Drop and Roll! " He knows all about guages, detectors, extinguishers and hoses. Rolls and rolls of toilet paper unrolled and carried through the house as his "hose".
Making him an "air tank" out of a 2 liter bottle, some ribbon, foil and leftover nebulizer tubing.
Parking at our local grocery store, always in the space next to the one where the hydrant is. Letting him have "hydrant time" while I sit in the car and peruse the store flier. Multiple trips to the station to see the trucks and talk about fire with the very nice firefighters there. Random stops along the street to get out and see particularly nice hydrants.
Receiving a real fireman mask from a friend. And hoping he will only sleep with it and not put it on in the middle of the night. Knowing which public restrooms have the sprinkler systems or other smoke detectors to see. And faking the need to use the bathroom just to go see them. And talking about it. Talking about anything fire. My mom has one story from when a heat lamp in the barn caused a near fire, but the whole fire fighting crew came out. She has told and retold that story.
Seeing him get up on the stage at our latest 4-H meeting, in front of 50 people and without any hesitation, and do his own impromptu talk on firefighters without a shred of insecurity.
So last night, when I hastily finished the dinner dishes to go stand guard as he climbed up and down a ladder,
in only his briefs,
taking his mask on and off, as practice,
I tried to remember the days before the obsession with firemen. It has almost been a year, I think. And as much as I have learned about firefighting as we both have been through this journey, I am wondering if this is just going to be his thing. He wants to be a firefighter.
And you know what?
I am good with that. He will be a good one.