London Eli Scout
What is now proved was once only imagined. - William Blake
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Little Me
I recently unearthed a leatherish looking white box from under the recesses of our bed. I recognized it immediately. It was my mom’s jewelry box. A coffee ring staining the lid. Soft red lining inside. And I could tell from my kids’ reactions that they were eyeing that treasure chest the exact same way I always eyed it as a kid – like some sort of miracle box o’ wonders. So we spent a morning going through its contents. The golden crab pendant from Mom’s high school – Hampton Crabs. (Yeah, crabs.) The long strings of pearls. The gaudy brooches that must have belonged to another era – I think…
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Never Heard That One
London was asking to play games today. I told her she should play some group games with her siblings – like Ring Around the Rosy or Duck Duck Goose. And she said, “We can’t play Duck Duck Goose. There aren’t enough of us.”Not enough Keigley kids? Now, that’s one I’ve never heard before!
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Afternoon
This past weekend Riley volunteered to help at a local Farm Day with her classmates. The farm was beautiful. The barns and the mountain views made me miss sweet Virginia. The smell of the hay barn even made me miss the dairy farm on which I grew up. London, Mosely and Bergen passed around bunnies that were so cute I almost wanted one. Almost. Because I had bunnies when I was a kid. My little brother and I had matching white fluffy ones. Trapper and Whatever-Douglas-Named-His. My cousin Mark jumped into their pen once when he was visiting. He landed on Trapper, my bunny. Hard. It died. Since the bunnies…
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London Elizabeth Scout Keigley: The Interview
Based on the popularity of my last interview with a young man about town named Bergen Hawkeye, I thought I might ride the coattails of that success and present another interview. This interview was a bit easier to attain, as this child is less inclined to bolt midway through a sentence. This small one is a thinker, a philosopher, a leader of her many young siblings and just a darn cute little gal. She is prone to unusual proclamations such as the one that was pronounced during last evening’s bath time. She had a rather large scab on her ankle from a fall across asphalt. As she was bathing and…
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Not Allowed
Maybe I have been a little too busy moving furniture around lately. London secretly made this sign all by herself and then displayed it prominently on the fridge. Translation: No Moving Furniture
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Important Things
Riley was at school. The Little Willow was taking a nap. Wilder was kicking his feet in his crib. (It’s how he likes to pass the time.) And London, Mosely and Bergen were on a mission. A mission to help. They were scurrying around the house, looking for Things To Do. They offered to tidy the living room. I let them. That wasn’t enough though. They wanted more work. I suggested they carry the little red bucket we keep dirty kitchen laundry in and put all of that little red bucket’s contents into the washing machine. They were excited to do it. (I am not making this up.) (Why do…
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Heady Stuff
Coming out of her room many hours past bedtime, London explained to me that she could not sleep. “I keep thinking bad thoughts about scary things, Mommy.” “Well, try to think about things that are lovely and that are good,” I told her. Apparently, she had already covered that and moved on. “Mom, I have. Instead, I have been trying to think how God exists in three persons.”
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Growing Up
We live at a camp, you know. It’s really cool. And a little surreal. Kevin and I brought his first youth group, Chalybeate Springs Baptist Church, to Look Up Lodge about twelve years ago. I think we brought two boys. Seriously. And, you know, as I recall, it was in planning that very first summer camp adventure that Kevin and I had our first major marital spat. Oh, I should really call it a fight, because that is what it was. But that’s not my point. Back in the day, when we were new campers at Look Up we fell in love with a little feature of the camp called…
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Six
Dear London, You make me laugh. Your thinking face is adorable. Your trying-a-new-food face is so serious and thoughtful. Your accents are spot on. (You are your daddy’s daughter, after all.) You are such a good big sister. I love how you help your brother when he is hurt. And I like how you offer your favorite toys to Mosely when she cries. You entertain Piper and make her laugh. You love to pick out onesies for Otto and you always want to cuddle with “his face”, as you say. You are obsessed with food. Every night at bedtime the questions are always the same. “What are we eating for…
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These Two . . .
These two little girls can . . . – Make peanut butter toast – Pick out cute clothes for Piper and Otto Fox – Help Bergen put on his favorite footie camouflage pajamas – Change Piper Finn’s diaper (not requested by Mommy mind you, just took their own initiative one day) – Spread cream cheese on a bagel – Take a shower like a grown up – Answer the telephone politely – Read a book to Piper – Load the washing machine – Clean up their own bedrooms – Secretly prepare breakfast in bed for their parents – Fold towels – Unload the dishwasher Truly, these little girls are such…
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What You Want
One morning recently London approached me and out of the blue stated, “Mom, God just doesn’t do what you want.” What? “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well, last night I prayed for God to shut the door and I waited and He just never did it.” I didn’t laugh. Because I didn’t think it was funny. I thought she was right. Sometimes God just doesn’t do what we want. Period. I didn’t try to convince London that God does do just what we ask. Because I don’t think that’s true. And she is young, not dumb. I didn’t try to explain that her demand was illogical. Because to her,…
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Come on, London!
So I was sweeping the kitchen floor. Underneath the table I spotted a container of sour cream with no lid and a spoon sitting in it. I picked up the container, knowing it would be empty when I looked inside. It was. I don’t know a lot about a lot of things, but I know a lot about my kids. And I didn’t even have to really waste brain power to know exactly why an empty sour cream container was underneath our kitchen table. I called London from wherever she was playing. “London, did you take this sour cream container and sit underneath the table and eat the rest of…
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What It All Comes Down To
Why do we say the things we say to children? No wonder they grow up a bit confused and have to find out so much for themselves in the long run anyway. The breakfast table topic this morning was birthdays – whose was next and what that child wanted to do. In our house, that discussion always leads to a discussion involving Chuck E. Cheese’s. (We’ve only dared enter that establishment twice in our children’s lives, but it has unfortunately clearly made a large impression.) As they bantered about the games, the ball pit and the pizza that you can eat while watching a show, London wisely surmised the experience…
