Any questions about why we love summer in Wisconsin?

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We went for a boat ride and I took my camera, hoping to capture the loon family that surely had a baby by now. My husband took us all around the lake and finally into the back bay where we’d most likely find the pair.

I spotted them right away and he turned and slowed the boat, switching off the motor so we could coast closer without making noise. As I watched and snapped away, I considered our good fortune to not have startled the birds. They barely moved as we drifted closer, save for their effortless circling in the water and the rotation of their majestic heads.

At this time of year, it is difficult to determine which of these loons is the male and which is the female, but each will care for the young loon and carry the baby on his or her back until it learns to swim. The massive size of the adult repels the Northern Pike that wouldn’t hesitate to swallow a baby in one fell swoosh.

Although the loons allowed us to drift closer, their eyes were watchful, and our silence allowed us to hear their tell-tale call, but in a gentler tone than we usually hear across the lake. They were talking to each other. We watched their mouths open and their necks move slightly, but the sound they generated came almost effortlessly. And an even softer sound reached our ears as well — that of the baby. It was learning to make the call too.

I’m awed by the tranquility shown by these birds — a peaceful family gliding through the water together. I feel so completely opposite of that most of the time, with busy schedules and not-always-even temperaments. But on this evening, we all floated together next to this family, just as quietly. And we were there because my usually-hurried husband stopped so I could take photographs. Small gifts.

Happy Father’s Day!

Each weekend I share moments that help me journey toward occasional “presence” — explained in A New Earth — to appreciate the small gifts life brings. This post is also a part of Fussy’s Happiness Project every Thursday.

Looking for this week’s giveaways? They are here, here and here.

(Moments before the birthday boy crashed into one of his best buddies and stopped traffic.)

A few of you who have read this blog for a long time, may have wondered why last week I referred to Craig’s birthday party in April, when his birthday’s in January. The short answer is that it took him three months to plan his party.

Yes, Craig planned his own party, because my husband decided to use some Love and Logic on his disorganized son. In January he told Craig that he would pay for the party and transport his friends, but Craig had to figure out the date and activities, call parents and write invitations.

This was a lot for a scatterbrained third-grade boy to pull together, but what better time to empower your kids, than for something they want really badly?

And nobody seemed to care that he was actually nine years and three months old.

You can join me each week by sharing a time kids make us proud, or a way adults are teaching, sharing — passing the torch. Blog your story or share it in comments.Former PTT posts.

Find more Wordless Wednesday participants here.

Our birthday adventure took place at Action City.

Giveaway winners have been announced for the Career Expedition Boardgame and the book, In Their Shoes. Congratulations to the winners and thanks to all who participated!

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Monday, the 13th, my husband and I celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary.

Thirteen years ago, I don’t think I could comprehend how difficult marriage can be. Raising a family and managing personal and professional lives can be daunting, stressful, and sometimes downright overwhelming. And since neither of us is perfect, we mess up a lot, and cause even greater stress on one another, than we would alone.

But it occurred to me recently, the invisible ways I’ve come to rely on my husband. After thirteen years together, there’s a rhythm of responsibility. Sometimes this rhythm is out of whack and called into question. Sometimes the drum doesn’t beat at all and our whole family falls into a chaotic abyss. But sometimes, the rhythm keeps time in areas I don’t even recognize.

For instance, I never gas up the car.
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