It's late and I have at least two dozen other things I could be doing right now (including sleeping). But tonight while canning peaches, saving up some of summer's glory it felt chilly on the deck. And too many leaves crunched under mine and Haven's feet while we picked in the garden so I must write down a bit more of summer. The seasons are turning.

I don't want to forget to mention that my baby turned three, that I now have the most precious goddaughter to my two godsons. That watching my older two play soccer brings me much happiness. I don't want to forget swimming with friends and park days with deep conversation and reading books with my toes in mountain streams.

I don't want to forget the goodness of the hard work of summer or the way some days are just hot and sweaty and grumpy but they can still end with all of us piled into one bed with Barbara Reid's book of Mother's Goose and it's one more summer where no one is too old for it just yet.

I don't want to forget Raine's first triathlon or my own or how Haven had her first ever all clear dentist appointment. And how we went on a date for a cupcake in the city. Or how the girls tried tubing for the first time and how all my babies hair smells after long days in the sun. How Liam turned into a vicarious reader over night and devoured chapter book after chapter book.

I don't want to forget the family photos in the rain (not the best year but I still look at them with love) and my watching the way my kids are growing into such good friends and how they can play imagination games for hours. There was dinning under the big tree on our garden harvest everyone helped grow with some black keys on the side. We stayed up to watch the stars.

I don't want to forget the tenderness of celebrating fifteen years.

I don't want to forget that we loved and we laughed. How I rediscovered something about being beloved.

2012 started for me with lots of questions. I wasn't blogging at the beginning of last year, and I wasn't going to choose a one word. I have the kind of personality that if everybody is doing something, I tend to not do it. I've never been trendy. And I like to make specific new years resolutions. Some I keep, some I don't (some are too ambitious for the stage my family is at) and I am okay with that. But one word kept whispering at me in my mind over the first few weeks, then the first few months of 2012 and so it became my word whether I was planning it or not. 2012 became my year of present.

(Artwork by Katie Daisy available at her etsy store. A favourite sample from my present pinterest board.)

So I hugged and kissed my kiddos, I swam in the pool, I nursed my last baby and I swung under the stars and I tried to really be in the moment even when things felt overwhelming. I had dates with Aaron, we listened to each other, he rubbed my feet and we swung under the stars too. I went swimming and skiing and running. I grew a garden. I talked with kindred spirits and read books and made things and started this blog. Trying to appreciate just what I was doing at the time.

Present had a dual meaning for me from the beginning; to be more present myself yes, try to avoid being over cerebral and just dwelling instead in the joy of life. But also the idea of a gift, a present. I felt God holding 2012 out to me, not like something to be conquered or overdone but just to be unwrapped, discovered, enjoyed.

Near the end, I started to rediscover the present of God's presence. Perhaps the most soul healing part of 2012 for me after a few years of faith changes. In 2013 I will continue to seek that out the presence. And I will carry forward being present, while moving forward and drawing in something else as well.