I have a deep love of fall. I have sweet memories from this season growing up as a child, my mama made sure of it. The pumpkins, stacked hay bales, corn stalks, she dressed up a scarecrow every year and sat him in a large antique wagon in our front yard. The house smelled of stews and soups, my best friend Becca lived down the street and I remember loving when our hands started getting chilly on evening bike rides and we played in the dark until it was time to go home for dinner.
I love fall, love everything about it. Something triggers in my mind and suddenly I want to dump a can of pumpkin into everything I'm making and become obsessed with pansies and pumpkins and candy corns.
Okay it makes me slightly crazy because I just love it. And my kids think I'm crazy.
Fall has come and set up camp at our house. Cans of pumpkin included.
Scenes of fall are here and just throw in a trashed house, endless bickering, and plenty of failures on the parents' end...then you have it, a family making their way through this beautiful season. A rest assured this mama is full throttle celebrating and enjoying every minute, even if everyone does have pinworms, lice, and diarrhea. It's been an epic month already.
Rallying and with deep gratitude, loving our scenes of fall.
Night Bike Rides
I love this time of year. I love buying school supplies, seeing school buses drive by, waiting in pick up lines to hear about her day, who she sat with at lunch, how was recess. Field trips, carpool, parent meetings. It overwhelms and it blesses us just plain silly.
Fall is my favorite season in part because our anniversary is coming, 9 years. We're adjusting, we're growing, and we're learning. Thankful for grace and mercy as we learn. I'm changing and I'm not sure if it's my age or season of life, but the more we get into this journey the less a bouquet of flowers or a fancy date does for this ole' broad. But I tell you when that man empties that dish washer and shows up to a field trip with a bunch of grimy kids to hunt for bugs, and he leans down and kisses her face until she cackles uncontrollably, I go weak in the knees.
I like him. A lot.
Our Bunny has a sweet story, one we tell her every year on her birthday. The truth of how He healed and restored her when she was 8 months old. How I carried her little body around our hospital room and prayed for her to grow, for a tumor to be benign, and the beginning of an ache and contending prayer for parents who still stand to fight every day.
Another wonderful reason why this season is just so wonderful.
By far my favorite thing to do right now it this.