Riley Amber
Not all those who wander are lost. - J.R.R. Tolkien
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Ringin’ It In.
I write a lot of posts about little kids. Our little kids. Because we have a lot of them. A lot of little kids. But we have a teenager too. And I’ve already shared about why posts featuring her name are less frequent than others. But we try to embrace these years of fashion and funk, tears and drama, breaking away and holding on in the same manner we embrace the poop and the broken pickle jars. (With a laugh and a joke. At least – the next day.) This New Year’s Eve might have found you toasting the past and the future with your friends, holding a fluted little champagne…
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Run, Riley. Run!
That’s what the posters the kids made for Riley’s first cross country meet said. They were written in green crayon and ended with loads of exclamation points. Attending a cross country meet was a little different than attending other sporting events. There were no bleachers. The kids played in dust instead. (You would have thought we were back on the farm in the Virginia red clay.) Otto was perhaps the least excited to be out in the shadeless, hot afternoon. Yeah, I think he probably cried for the entire duration of the meet. First through the junior varsity run. Then through the boys’ run. And finally, to treat all the…
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truth
Truth. Something I am learning about truth is this. Truth is still truth even if the spokesperson of that truth has sometimes neither lived nor believed that truth. Because truth doesn’t require my consent. Truth doesn’t wait for me to act upon it to become truth. You know how I am learning this? By my husband and I being in the position of having to speak the truth we have not always lived to our eldest daughter. This raising a teenager business . . . this dance of guiding and supporting, letting go and holding back . . . it’s the hardest. Give me the dirtiest diaper you can throw…
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Soccer – Let the Games Begin!
The season has started. In all its glory. (Okay, there really is not much glory – but the kids sure look cute in their uniforms, Riley is a great assistant coach and Piper is a pretty effective cheerleader.) We’re just at the beginning of the season but it’s funny already. There’s the I-expected-this-but-not-from-you – Hawkeye. He pretty much just wants to drink the water from his cool new officially-sanctioned-by-his-soccer-team water bottle. “Berg, don’t you want to play?” I ask. He answers, “Mommy, I think you should write my whole name, B-E-R-G-E-N, on my water bottle instead of just the B you already wrote.” While everyone is running after the ball…
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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.…
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Because She Can Read
If you have read this blog for very long you may have noticed a few things. I think our kids are funny. I like to take pictures of them and to tell stories about them. There are six of them. But one does not appear here nearly as frequently as the others. Yes. I know. But it has nothing to do with my love for Riley, our beautiful teenaged daughter. (Or maybe it has everything to do with my love for her.) The primary reason I do not write often about Riley is simple. She knows how to read. I love Riley. Of course I do. I think she’s funny.…
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Here We Go
Alert: This post is being typed from a computer with a dying battery. In a hotel room with no access to photographs. The Band of Keigley are on the road. (And you would know all the minutia of our family’s Christmas journey south if you followed Riley’s Facebook updates. But please do not. We do not wish to support her addiction. I’m actually not joking.) The start was a bit shaky . . . an hour and a half later than intended, snow and ice the first forty-five minutes, an accidental opening of the completely, tightly packed Suburban’s back door two minutes before the official Buckling In Of Passengers was…
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Yeah. Just Like That.
Guess what family is unanimous in their recent discovery of their intense dislike for goat cheese? This family! (Was that really a hard guess for anyone?) Yes. It’s true. Our apologies to all goat-cheese-lovers reading right now. We discovered this over a recent dinner. I made a beautiful salad. And yes, I can describe this salad as beautiful. Because it was. A beautiful serving dish. Crisp, bright green spinach leaves piled high. Creamy white feta cheese sprinkled across the bed of green. Goat cheese layered across and mixed with the feta. Perfectly grilled chicken placed carefully across the salad layers. And exquisite, colorful ruby pomegranate seeds shimmering across the landscape…
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The High Cost of Education
This is a warning. A disclaimer, if you must. This is a post about homeschooling. It’s not the best educational choice for every family. It may not be for yours. That’s not what I am saying. But it is a choice that our family has made for the past four years for our oldest daughter Riley. And it has not been an easy one. Not at all. (Few important choices are really easy – right?) This year is different. On so many levels. In light of, because of, not even having to do with some of those differences, we made a different choice for Riley this year. Riley is attending…
