March Inn

Why"March Inn?" March Inn was the name of that magic place where I spent my summers growing up. I have alluded to this place before, and I probably will again. March Inn is no longer standing. The waters of Katrina rendered it unlivable so my children will never know that "March Inn." That makes me sad. In fact it brings me to tears whenever I think about it. I want my children to have their own "March Inn," and I want to capture our lives as they are growing and changing. I invite you to "march inn" to our lives. My hope is that you will catch glimpses of the real world. You will see our creations. You will see our chaos. You will see our affection. You will also see our frustrations, fears, and disappointments. Enjoy your march!

Monday, April 12, 2010

I wish...

I wish Tootsie was here to see this!

Those words were first spoken three weeks ago by Mary Frances as I was bathing them before going down the street for dinner so that Frank and I could go to our small group Bible Study. I snapped a picture in anticipation of this post. As the words came out of her mouth, tears came to my eyes as I thought of how many times we will utter that sentiment. I know the answer is countless...for us and for many in the community.



Well today was one of those days ~ a pink crayon arrived on our mailbox with the invitation for Kindergarten Orientation.


Look at this face and the picture does not do it justice. We were caught in the early morning school traffic taking Walker to his 15 month check-up when we noticed the first crayon. I wish I had a picture of the excitement on Mary Frances' face as we looked for crayons and pointed them out to each other. She excitedly asked if I thought Allen B had a crayon on his mailbox. We still need to call or drive by to check.


Stephen was even excited for her. My poor sleep deprived son fell asleep coming home from the pediatrician's office. Since it was before 10:00 when we returned home, I let him sleep in the car while I got a snack for Walker {who had been whisked from his bed to the car seat to get to the doctor} and took pictures of Mary Frances. When I went to wake him up, I asked him to guess what was on our mailbox. His eyes widened and with shear delight said Mary Frances' crayon. He bounded out of the car to join her admiring her pink crayon on the mailbox.

Throughout the day we have made several trips to the mailbox to see the crayon, touch the crayon, read the invitation. I've decided the crayons are for the parents as much as for the children. It helps makes it real that my baby girl is starting "big school" next year. I am so excited for her ~ she is ready and I hope she loves it as much as she has loved preschool, but each time I have walked through our den and gotten a glimpse of the inflatable crayon I smile but with a bittersweet feeling ~ a chapter in our lives is about to close. Have a made the most of it?

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