Wednesday, April 16, 2014

mr. bachart goes to washington

that was our hashtag, 'cause we are cool like that. 

Aidan didn't like it. He wanted #watowa  or #monumoments but I said No.  I am the adult so I get to pick the ridiculous hashtag.  And that is how you parent in the 21st century.  The end. 

Except it is not the end.  It is only the beginning!!  The beginning of our vacation pictures, that is!  You can thank me later. 














 








Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Margo

Look at that face? 
I mean, come on! 

sporty spice

I vow to stop saying we are not athletes.  We, meaning Tony and I, are not big on organized sports, granted.  It might be our reluctance for social interaction.  It might be our reluctance to be told what to do.  It might be our lack of coordination, but really, maybe, that it just me.  Come to think of it, as long as it doesn't involve a ball Tony is a natural at things that require arms and legs moving in various directions.  Like rollerblading.  I gave Tony a pair for graduation, he slapped them on and rolled away down our bumpy sloped road like he had always had them on his feet. But I have to stop saying we are not athletes, because he are active.  Is there an activlete?  Or an althtive?  Because what I mean is we get after it.  We set little goals, do the work to get there and set some more.  We stick to it.  So really, isn't that what an athlete does?


No. 20
So maybe there is hope for the Bachart Babies.  You wouldn't look at us and say that we are a smooth bunch of people.  Or graceful.  Or maybe even coordinated.  You would say that we are willing to try.

Attacker

For his whole life long, Aidan has been reluctant to show what he knows until he really knows it, if that make sense.  He didn't try walking.  He studied it, and practiced on the sly and then one day when Tony asked him to hand over the remote, he just walked across the room.  Same-same with reading.  He couldn't bear the thought of sounding out words.  He would read in his head, over and over until he knew he had it.  Then boom.  Hop on Pop!  

But this Lacrosse thing?  He is out there trying.  You can still see him studying.  You can see him shift his shoulders anticipating what he would do as he watches a play by play in his head.  But he is out there too.  He gets knocked around.  He gets knocked down too.  He gets whacked with sticks and stepped on.  He's not ready to do the knocking or whacking quite yet, but he loves it.  All of it.  The coaches, the kids, the rules upon rules upon never-ending rules.
He is out there, and he loves it. 
I, however, have chewed my cuticles to nothingness.

Monday, March 10, 2014

i'm coming home, i'm coming home

That song from the Resurrection trailer played over and over in my head on Saturday.  Half in part because of the road to Huntsville and half in part because of my Nani-B in the backseat.  They both kept it on repeat for at least 40 of the 50 miles. 
That's what spring in Huntsville feels like, though...home.






 



Nadia's rendition includes something about raise the flag, mom, I'm coming home that I rather like.  Her home is and has always been the bustling town of Pasco, but it is clear that she is most at home in her muck boots feeding two lambs at once or making a contraption out of fencing and what have yous.  There is a theory about cultural genetics that says a way of life seems to be passed down through DNA.  You feel your homeland, even if you have never been there.
I wonder if there is something to that.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

full speed ahead!

We have this ebb and flow to our little life.  I kinda like the flow but then again the ebb isn't so bad either.  Right now it is about to get all ebb-on-crack which makes me simultaneously nervous-excited and nervous-scared. 

But our little life is revving up to the ebb this time, instead of just throwing us into the thick of it.  I spent a good 45 minutes today logging things into the calendar and trying to appreciate all of the stuff we have going on.

Like last week. 
We had some stuffs going on. 
Nothing crazy, nothing too hectic, just stuffs.

Stuffs like the ten year anniversary of the dual language program.  Normally this wouldn't have made the list but since both of my children volunteered to participate we made sure it was on the calendar.  Nadia sang with her class and handed out fans that her classmates made.  Aidan explained the concept of algebraic exponents like it was no big thing.  Did I mention he did this in Spanish?   I understood a handful of words but I am pretty sure it was awesome.  And he is really handsome, so there is that.  Here is a grainy picture from far away to show it. 

Stuffs like my mom's birthday.  She is 69.  I didn't take even one picture but I did eat a bunch of Hawaiian Teriyaki and Russian Chocolate.  She said she didn't want us to buy gifts so Tony pulled a fast one and made her an apron.  I picked out the butterfly fabric so really I should get all of the credit. 

Stuffs like introducing go-go-Gabby to Aidan and Nadia.  They were amazed at how tiny she is and were floored when I told them that she has literally tripled in size.  Again, no pictures.  What was I thinking? 

And stuffs like a lacrosse clinic.  Aidan is in love.  He started practice last night.  Nadia wants to play too but since it is the same time as Girls on the Run she decided to wait until next year.  Again, no pictures of Aidan all padded up or of us freezing our whatnots off.  Nor did I get a picture of me rocking a sweet cat hat.

But I did get a picture of Tony doing this...

 
 

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

done//not done//but done

A friend posted a little something on FB about the sadness of knowing you have had your last child. 
Oh have I felt that. It is often present.  I was just talking with my sister about it last week.  I am one to think in numbers and find myself often thinking my baby is 10, my oldest is encroaching on teenagehood.  Next year both of my babies will be heading to school at 7:40 and will be just across the street in their not so little middle school.  I miss their littleness every day and wish for more time with them in their perfect for snuggling bodies filled with wild and humongous dreams.  I am full with love of who they are and where they are and the stage they are in, but that longing for a perfectly curled up child in the crook of my arm is never that far off. 

I told my bff when I was snuggling her itty bitty baby that I wanted to put her little body inside my skin.  She gets me and she loves me so she did not immediately dial 9-1-1.  And when I say it I know it sounds totally crazy but I miss that feeling of a little one so close to me, you know?  And if you catch me on a good day it is probably because there are moments when I feel like I have this mothering thing down and I want a do over.  At least until the next stage hits and I have to figure it all out again...but...

We are done.  There is no going back.  We have the family that is meant to be and I wouldn't change it one little bit.  So instead I borrow babies.  But just cute ones, and snuggly ones, to get my fix.  And ones that belong to friamly because I don't need any calls to the nut house when I say things like I could just eat these babies up. 

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

from where I sit

There is a dirty window clad in horrible dirty blinds with sun streaming through to my left.  I can hear the wind howling, just like it has been- and will be- for days.  I just finished my second cup of coffee.  That is a rarity.  Usually I stick to one on the weekdays but I am dragging.  Wah Wah Wah.  Who isn't?  That's the name of February's game, am I right?

But the sun makes me start planning and plotting and dreaming of long summer mornings.  I gotta pull back though.  I want to make sure I enjoy what February has to offer.  Like random game nights.  Will I lose my coolness status if I admit Settlers of Catan is weirdly fun?  And the MCT for the last time?  I will miss it (a little).  It is the season of school projects.  At the Bachart house we have a good time (mostly) of researching and powerpointing and video embedding. 

that's me, not winning
old campers, including Sienna, Nadia and MacKenzie




















I am trying to strike that balance between dreaming of days to come and living it the moment, but I don't think I am very convincing.
My scale is tilted to the planning and plotting.  Windy February days are made for laying out our spring and summer plans and perfect for looking forward, if only to the weekend, don't you think?