Snapshots of an evening - with words

A friend and neighbor of mine, Alana Rasbach, does the most wonderful documentary style photography, capturing a family at home, or a birth.  Her images are beautiful.  I strive to do the same with my own family, except I am never in the photos, so I sometimes have to capture it with words.  This is set of snapshots that sum up an evening in the life of us, in this season, with words.

4pm: Finds me in comfy clothes, nearly 38 weeks pregnant, waddling around the kitchen getting dinner started for my family who are always ready for dinner at 5pm.  My bare feet on a never quite clean floor, apron wrapped around my huge belly, while Cora "cooks" in her little kitchen or sits at her small blue table pouring over a book or random catalog that has come in the mail.  Judah, bare bottomed in the last stages of potty training, is "helping" me, standing next to me on a tall step stool and saying "wassat, Mama?" amid a flurry of chopping and stirring and mixing.  Music plays in the background, symphonic classical, or oldies, or family folk favorites, depending on who makes the request first.

4:30pm Dinner cooks in the oven and the kids hear the roar of Matt's motorcycle on our street, causing a riot of running feet and squealing children who shout, "Papa! Papa!  I hear him!".  Little faces peer out of the door's sidelights, waiting for him to come up the steps.  The door opens and the giggles and squeals start again.  Hugging his legs and scrambling for kisses while Papa tries to get in the door properly.  Stories and tickles and hugs and "Hi, Papa, Hi!" over and over again from the children as they fill him in on the day.  I stay out of the rabble and Matt comes to find me and kiss me hello.

4:45pm Little ones run back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, setting the table as best they can, carrying heavy dishes one at a time and arguing over who gets to carry what and Judah ends up climbing in his chair to wait for dinner there, impatient for food with cries of "I hungry, Mama!".

5pm Dinner on table, we pray and eat and talk and joke with each other.  Things like "No cars at the table." and "Use your fork." and "No forks in your drink." and "What do you say when you burp?" punctuate the conversation again and again.  Cora snuggles close to me on the bench, eating all her veggies and leaving the meat, while Judah eats all the meat and leaves the veggies.  Judah likes to make his Papa laugh with silly antics and words, while Cora, our thoughtful girl, tells stories about her day and asks questions she has been pondering.  Matt and I sit close and talk about the day, over the continual rabble.  Clean up and chores follow.

6:30pm We all troupe upstairs for bedtime.  Teeth brushing in the bathroom with me saying, "Say Ah.  Say Eee.  Stick your tongue out. Spit!" to the youngest who still gets a followup brushing by mama.  Everybody goes potty and puts on jammies and then meet on our bed for nightly "Hop on Pop.", a wild wrestling and jumping on Matt with pillow fights, tickles, giggles, and nearly falling off the bed only to be saved by Papa grabbing a foot, while I sit safe in the recliner, watching the fun and feeling our unborn son wiggle with the noise.

6:45 Matt reads the chronicles of Narnia to a solomn eyed girl in the crook of his arm while I sit and rock in the recliner with Judah, whispering the words of his favorite picture book in his ear and he snuggles in close, looking up at me with his sweet smile and eyes that crinkle into little half moons when he grins.  He is too wiggly for Narnia still.

7pm Prayers at the end of the day, sips of water, kisses for everyone, kids climb in their beds and snuggle down bunny and puppy, respectively.  A final tickle and kiss and small chubby arms wrapped tight around our necks.  "Good night.  I love you.  Sweet dreams." and then we switch rooms and say it again to the other child.  Pleas for one more snuggle are kindly declined and we head downstairs.