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17.
Seventeen. This kid who was once six and Southern-sounding as all get out. This girl who changed her own name when she was nine and politely insisted that her third grade class refer to her as “Riley” henceforth. This waif who won my momma’s heart from the first hug as she wrapped her teeny arms around my mother’s neck as soon as they met. This team player who agreed to don full Little House on the Prairie clothes and enter a Laura Ingalls Look-Alike contest. This mini-athlete who wore a series of ill-fitting jerseys through every season of rec. league soccer with her daddy as her coach. This new teen…
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An Early Birthday
Do you like surprises? I heart surprises. Really, I do. (Well, good surprises. I seriously love good surprises. I’m like a surprise junkie. I can never get enough.) And it seems like for birthdays I usually find myself giving people what I want – surprises! Kevin’s birthday is this weekend and I have a few family surprises up my sleeve for him. But I couldn’t wait until Saturday. So I had a little early birthday date night last night for just the two of us. (I had been crazy sick all morning. As in, not even rising from the bed until after 3 p.m. But Kevin’s gracious help allowed me…
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Another Birthday Story. Different Birthday(s).
Remember how I said our stop in Atlanta was a soft landing place before making the haul to our next stop? That was true. (Because I don’t lie here – right? Well, at least not intentionally.) We drove nine hours to Florida two days before Christmas because we wanted to be a part of a fabulous birthday surprise for two marvelous people. Maybe you remember seeing their faces here before. Oma. Papa Dale. The matriarch and patriarch of our framily. They both turned sixty. And we made it (just barely in time) to see their surprised faces as they entered the room. And by “just barely in time” I mean…
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We’re Still Here. (Except When We Weren’t.)
If you follow our lives primarily through this blog, then it might appear as if Mosely turned seven last week and then life stood still at our house. No posts. No comments. Internet silence. Well. Life did probably stand basically still at our house. But we did not. Stand still, that is. In fact, we were on the move on Mo-Town’s birthday too. We were headed south. (For an event I will probably write about tomorrow. I say “probably” because I can’t ever really guarantee if my day will include writing or cleaning up vomit or playing board games or baking dozens of blueberry muffins.) We landed near the ole’…
Keep Reading . . .
parenting: the slipping away
An Ode to EB White
sacred sabbath & rest for the weary
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6 + 1 = 7
Yesterday Mosely was six years old. Today she is seven. (Blink. Blink.) How did this happen? Happy Birthday Mosely. I hope you enjoy your Barbie birthday cake and your pink and purple star pinata. Mosely Turns Seven from Lacey Keigley on Vimeo.
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three (3).
Isn’t it funny how all of a family’s history can meet right in the face of a three-year-old? On our long drive recently Kevin and I looked at Piper’s face in the rearview mirror and verbally dissected her petite features. A Norton nose. My mom’s jawline. It’s all right there. Aunt Vonnie. Uncle Tommy. In my little Willow. That wee face, full of so many faces she will never even know. All of the people whose blood flows through hers. All of the people who have had a hand in making her – both structure and soul. A whole of so many pieces. An end to something started so long…
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Seven is Sweet
Oh Seven. You are fun. When you turn 7 here we set out the treasured Special Special Day Plate. And you get to eat your meal upon that plate. And you get to choose the meal. No matter what you want. We will all eat it. Even if you pick macaroni & meat with a side of mashed potatoes and an additional side of peas. You also get to watch Dad decorate your cake. And you get away with being a bit rowdy and having icing squirted inside your mouth. And maybe you even get a little help cleaning that icing from your face. You also get to decide what…
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we let him eat cake.
Otto had a pretty low key first birthday party, as far as those events tend to go. And I am okay with that. Besides, he has enough siblings to constitute a party wherever he goes, so it all works out. A few good friends joined us to do what you do on a baby’s first birthday. Watch them eat cake. Our kids have all handled the first birthday a little differently. We didn’t get the privilege of seeing Riley cram cake into her little kid face since we met her a few years after that event. (I could just make something up here but I guess that’s a bad idea…
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One
Just one year ago you looked this. Brand new. Hours into our life. Peaceful. Still. Beautiful. And now one year later you look like this. Seldom still. Walking. Eating. Laughing. Still beautiful. Happy Birthday One.
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Surprise! It’s My Birthday
You know we love guests at this house. And we love this one guy who likes to pop over on occasion – our friend Bob. We met Bob back at old Campbell University when Kevin and I were but newlyweds. Bob let us know he would be in the neighborhood and asked if he could stop by. Who would say no to Bob? He treats our family like his family. He carries kids on his shoulders. He reads stories and draws pictures with them, and of them. (He’s a gifted artist.) He makes desserts with them and often treats us to his delicious homemade baklava. Bob makes edible finger paint…
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Celebrate Good Times – Come On!
Bergen, that little boy-man, turned five this weekend. Five. One whole hand. And for his birthday he only asked for one thing – monster trucks that could sit on a cake but could later be removed to play with. (Really. That’s what he asked for.) So we went with a theme. There were three monster trucks on his cake. (And he removed them all and played with them.) There was a monster truck race course, complete with bridges, ramps, mud puddles, flags, jumps and a grand finale jump into a swimming pool. (Assembled by our almost-in-residence-birthday-planners Chris and Ben (and Rachael). You might recognize them from other Keigley birthday celebrations…
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This Weekend
When you turn sixteen at our house the day might begin normally with a gift or two. But the day picks up momentum quickly. Add a dozen or more friends. An unfortunate parking job. (NOT to the right guys. Not to the right!) Throw in a summer staffer or two (or six or so), who are there specifically for the purpose of livening things up a bit, and things might get a little messy. This was one game (thanks Ben, Chris and Lauren) where the girls made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. With their bare feet. And then the boys? They ate them. Other games may or may not have…
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You Say It’s Your Birthday?
Sixteen. Pretty sure that number must be wrong. Seriously. There is no way that our oldest daughter could be turning sixteen (16) today. Is it possible to just ban a birthday altogether? Oh Riley. Beautiful. Affectionate. Optimistic. Dramatic. Master of Hyperbole. Friendly. Extroverted. Lover of Laughter, Cell Phones and Music. A Diligent Student. A Capable Chef. A Positive Spirit. What I want to say to you is this . . . Slow down. Slow down. Don’t act like how you think the world says a sixteen-year-old should act. Act like you. Dream a dream bigger than your weekend plans, your next paycheck or your first kiss. Oh Riley. Live child.…
