MommyCoddle

looking forward, looking back

Just popping in to share some pictures from this morning. I took Emma over to the barn to get a little practice in before tomorrow--her first horse show. She is showing at the county 4-H Fair in lead line classes. My little sister will be bringing her pony and taking Emma through the events. Emma is excited and admittedly nervous. But the prospect of show clothes and ribbons has her grinning from ear to ear. 

Mary, of course, got a ride in as well--always dressed for the occasion in her pink cowgirl boots and ruffled skirt. It's also ninety-plus degrees and humidity is hanging in the air like a damp towel--but she's in a long-sleeved, long underwear top. I've given up my fight with this child. The long sleeves were a compromise. I talked her down from jeans and a fleece zip-up hoodie. I just have to let her sweat it out, until she agrees to take off one of her many layers. 

My littlest sidekick learned the joy of climbing gates and finding a comfortable seat. And she became best pals with a persistent little farm dog--rolling a gritty brown tennis ball back and forth until she tired of the game.

On the way home she fell asleep in the car.

The road to the farm is one of my favorites around here--the majority of it is not paved and it winds along a beautiful, clear creek. When Elizabeth was a little babe and I needed to get out of the house for a break, the girls and I would often pile in the car and drive this road so I could catch my breath in the world of mother-to-three. The vibration of the stones under our tires, the flickering of sun and shade through her window, always seemed to lull her to sleep.

I watched her in my rear view mirror today while I drove. Her eyes were always out her side window, looking up into the treetops. When I looked back the last time, she was sound asleep. My sweet little babe.

32

Saturday was my 32nd birthday. I thought about giving you a list of "32 things on my 32nd birthday". But I did that two years ago. So instead, I used a little quiet time that my husband gave me on my birthday to finally finish my About Page and give this blog a little makeover for the final weeks of summer.

There are new books in the sidebar for me and the girls, and a link to take you directly to my Bushel and Peck posts on Momformation. And thank you to Cassi for featuring my "watercolor blobs" on The Crafty Crow last week. I feel honored to see that little badge in my sidebar because goodness knows I really wanted one! I took away the "good things" links, for now. I'll freshen them up a bit and bring them back shortly.

The About Page is inspired by a post where I asked you all to ask me anything. And boy did you ever! Obviously I couldn't (and didn't want to) answer all the questions, but I picked a few of my favorites and answered them as best I could. If my blog traffic takes a downward turn I'll know that I've either completely turned you off with my answers or I've told you everything and there's nothing new you could possibly learn from me at this point. Ha! Ha?

Sweet little Mary drew me this picture on my birthday. We sat together out in the yard, me reading a magazine, her drawing beside me. I'd say things to her like, "You forgot eyeballs!" Or "where are everyone's arms?" and she'd quickly add them in. Apparently this picture is all of us marching through the farmers' market.

It's funny when I look at this picture because I could probably pull an almost exact replica out of my stash of Emma's early work. And I have to confess, poor second child that she is, I haven't been saving much of Mary's work. I feel like I've had this pathetic (internal) "yeah, yeah, I've seen those kind of drawing before. I'll start saving them when they get better, kid!" kind of horrible attitude in my head.

But no more. I'm cherishing these sweet little drawings. Let the collection begin.

I have two things that I want to buy myself for my birthday. The first I got this morning--two sets of Moleskine journals--one set of thin notebook sized, the other a small pack of pocket-sized journals. In my old age, I find that I'm forgetting lots of things. I've always been a list-maker, a genetic trait I inherited from my mother. And I've been kind of ADD with my list notebook this year. I have about three going at the same time, I can usually only find one of them, which is the one I'm NOT looking for at the time. So I decided to consolidate into these moleskines, one-at-a-time.

The small journals are to stash in my back pocket. I've gotten in the habit of jotting down writing ideas or stories on scrap pieces of paper--a receipt, a piece of the girls' (probably Mary's) artwork that been tossed aside. And then, I lose them. Of course.

Or horror of horrors, send them down the library book return shoot. I had written a kind of personal, introspective note on a receipt, which I then tucked in the book I was reading and literally had to dive in after it up to my shoulder, as I saw the little tail of it slipping down the library book return. Phew.

So I think keeping my thoughts in my back pocket is a bit safer.

the fog has lifted

What a week. We are all operating at about 85% healthy this morning. Which feels pretty darn good after the week we've had. Between the heat, being sick myself, and waking up each day to another child falling to the stomach flu/high fever, it's been a tough one.

It's funny, in the middle of a round of sickness, how you forget what normal is. You begin to wonder if you'll ever put a real meal on the table or hang out a load of laundry or DO a load of laundry again. The daily visits to the swimming pool seem like they would require amazing feats of energy that you no longer have.

But a new day dawns.

This morning, I was actually up and outside before anyone else had managed to crawl into bed with me. Enough time to feed the kittens and notice that I'll be picking my first tomato tomorrow, I believe.

The heat is gone, which changes my perspective on everything. I'm thankful for the break, for my healthy children, for the return to normal.

Mary came downstairs this morning in jeans, two tee shirts, a long sleeved shirt and her pink cowboy boots, begging for breakfast.

No, she's not having fever chills.

That's normal.

Happy weekend, everyone.

Find A Bushel and A Peck, Week 2, here.

The moral of the story: Always have some knitting in your bag

I'll tell you the moral of my story first: Always keep some knitting in your bag.

Dan, my father, and I spent Saturday afternoon in the ER. Dan was working on a small woodshed here at the house and fell, falling on his ladder and bursting the inside of his arm open--basically from bicep to tricep. I've never seen a wound on a human being like the one I saw on Dan. It was pretty alarming, to say the least. If you're squeamish don't read this-----but you could see fat (very little on my lean husband) and muscle, the cut was so wide open. Ick. Sorry for the gory details, but in a way, it's kind of fascinating, too. The human body is amazing.

Being the girl scout that I am, when he came crawling through the kitchen door and I got a glimpse of his wound, I tied a tourniquet on it and quickly called my dad to get him to the ER. I was able to stay calm although I was a shaky mess on the inside. Thankfully, they took him straight into the ER but after cleaning and some x rays, the waiting began.

I had the (selfish?) forethought to throw the latest issues of Wondertime and National Geographic into my bag before we got in the car to go. I wish I'd also had the selfish forethought to grab some mascara and a hairbrush. But anyway, when I dug in to my bag to get the magazines out, I realized I had a knotted up ball of organic cotton yarn from a dishcloth (yes, I'm still knitting them) that was on my needles and just inches away from completion.

It's finished now.

And Dan is home. Lucky to only have a nasty wound, many stitches, a bruise any man would be proud of, and a very sore body.

I have attempted to write this post (not the ER story, but the next part) several times in the last week. But between being sick and this heat, which saps all creativity, I haven't gotten to it. There are so many things to catch up on--an amazing IKEA date with Emily, some pictures, some thoughts, some milestones, some posts I'd like to revisit....But for now, I'll leave you with some fun news.

I am back to blogging for Babycenter as part of their Momformation team of bloggers. When I walked away several months ago we didn't burn any bridges and communication was open. Last month, they asked me to come back and write twice a week, in more of a journal style of post. So my articles over there will be much like the kinds of things you read here.

My feature posts are called A Bushel and a Peck...after this little ditty that my brother-in-law, who passed away a few years ago, used to sing to his children (and mine). You'll find them on Momformation every Wednesday and Sunday. Hopefully, this week, I'll put a link in my sidebar so that you can go directly to my posts on the site.

My first post was a bear to write. I struggled with how much to share from my background and then had some writer's-remorse after it was posted. But it always takes me a bit to find my voice again over there. My second post went up today and chronicles the drama of Emma losing one of her big ol' front teeth last week.

I hope you'll stop by and see me over there and PLEASE (yes, do note a bit of begging) leave a comment so I don't get too lonely. I feel really good about my new "relationship" at babycenter. And unlike last time, I think it won't leave me lonely for my blog but will simply be an extension of myself and what I share with all of you dear friends, here.

Happy Monday. xo.

A child's garden

Two weekends ago, I decided to take an overgrown mound of dirt in our side yard and turn it into a small garden for Emma and Mary. I've always had it on my mind to find a little green space for the girls to call their own, and this was the first year that it all came together. Gardening seems to come so naturally for children. Getting their hands (and feet, and faces and legs, and...) dirty, digging holes, picking up thick squirming earthworms, watching something grow and change.

Before we started I prepared myself that their garden enthusiasm would wax and wane. Emma was a gung-ho gardener at first--weeding, loading the wheelbarrow, spreading around the compost. While Mary flittered in and out of the scene--pick a weed. whine. pick a weed. swing. pick a weed. nap.

We hauled some rocks from a falling-down stone silo at the back of our property to edge the garden to keep it from getting mowed over. And that was enough for one day.

A few days later, I took the girls to our local feed mill to pick out flowers. First of all, this is a great time of year to get your annuals. Everything was half off and the selection wasn't overwhelming. So for the procrastinating gardener like myself, it was perfection.

The picking flowers part was definitely a huge highlight. I gave the girls complete control. I simply pointed them in the direction of the full-sun flowers, gave them the number of pots to pick out, a cardboard lid, and sat back to watch. I didn't care about color combinations, leaf varigations, coordination. It is their garden.

It was quite interesting to watch their decision making. They'd mix and match. Put things together, change their minds, try something new. Eventually they even grew confident enough to start asking the store's gardener for advice. "Can this be in the sun?" "Is this done blooming?" "How tall will this be?" And finally they  settled on a bundle of flowers to bring home. And it seems they both attended the same landscape design school, for they each came home with something in every color. We've got blues, purples, yellows, oranges, reds, whites, pinks. 

Of course their mother tends to gravitate towards a little more simplicity, but it's their garden. Not mine.

Now that we've moved from the planning and planting stage to the maintenance stage, interest is once again waning. I can get Emma to water here and there. Mary has completely moved on. And most of the upkeep is up to me. Which is fine. It was anticipated.

Although yesterday I gave emma a pair of clippers and taught her how to dead-head. She took to that with lots of enthusiasm. And then took all the spent blossoms, and continued to clip them over and over into tiny flakes of petals.

But enthusiasm or not. Interest today, or no more interest at all. There's something good about little hands in warm soil and a small space of earth to call their own.

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Emails were sent out this morning and this afternoon to half of the book swappers who are in charge of first contact. If you don't hear from me or your partner in the next few days, please be in touch!
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my blogging honey

All my children are passed out in their beds upstairs. We just had another fun afternoon with the Urchins--eating, swimming in the pool (which is full, blue and cold) and watching our children obsess over the kittens.

I tell you, sometimes you feel kind of odd about the relationships you have with blogging friends. But when you get the privilege of meeting in person and you feel like you're friends that go way back, it just confirms what an amazing community of people this is. I always feel so blessed to be a part of it. Jennifer, next time, the aquarium, right? And Emily will hopefully be joining us as well.

I think little Mary summed it up so well as we were walking back inside after waving goodbye:
"Mom, it's sad to see our blogging friends leaving, isn't it? Is she your blogging honey? She's one of your 'blogging honeys'?" Yes, Mary she is. My blogging honey.

***I'm closing the book swap. Thanks so much for the great response. It is nice to have an easy simple swap for the middle of summer. I'll be getting back to you all soon with partners.******

Happy Weekend.

mini {book} swap

Apparently, Dan "wronged" Emma the other night. I think it was something to do with him canceling baths because of all the bickering between sisters.

Emma. She's such a feeler. She feels everything with such gusto. I was upstairs when she brought the sign up to hang on her door and she showed it to me. I asked her if she thought it would hurt Dan and Mary's feelings. She told me that they hurt her feelings and I gave her some typical mom advice about that not making it right to hurt their feelings. And then she told me, "that's not how it works in my world!" And then collapsed into my arms. Poor baby. A full day of running around with cousins, swimming, meals away from home. Never touching back down for a bit of quiet and rest. So everything came storming out in emotions just before bed.

I do have to give the girl credit for taking the time to make the letters block letters. I mean, if you're going to make a nasty sign to hang on your door, at least do it with some style.

So, on a different note. That swap....The other night we were all in bed reading this book. Not your classic book that everyone has in their home library collection. No Good Night Moon, or  Guess How Much I Love You, or The Giving Tree .  And I don't even remember how I got this book. Maybe from a student when I was a classroom teacher. But dagnabbit (to quote the book) if it wasn't really good!

As I was sitting there listening to Dan read, it gave me an idea for a simple, quick and easy swap. A mini swap of sorts because it is kid-driven, but simpler.

Let's share a family favorite (children's) book, with another family. Something that might not be on everyone's shelf. Not necessarily the classics that are given out at every baby shower, but a discovered favorite. A book that surprised you.

And it's simple. It is just the exchange of a book. Nothing more, nothing less. From one family to another. So if this simple swap interests you, drop me an email and I'll mix everyone up and hand out partners. And seriously folks, I want to keep this simple. Just give a book, get a book. I have no plans to make pillowcase dresses for everyone in their family. Or embroidered floor cushions and handmade puzzles. Just a book--a gift that gives over and over.

So, if you're in, I'm in. And if only one person signs up, then well, I've got a great book to send you--not the one above, something even better....

Drop me an email, let me know if you're in. And if you are, here's a smaller version button for you to use

Happy Reading. Happy Thursday.

**I'm closing the swap. Thanks, everyone!!***

Would you read a post whose only picture is of a whole in the ground?

I've been wandering around my house with a dead digital camera in my hands, wondering where I might find a set of batteries in the middle of all this mess. Because there's this one picture that I want to take. I keep turning on my camera just to check that maybe, the batteries will miraculously revive themselves and give me one more open and shut of the shutter. No luck. And I realized this afternoon that I've been walking around looking for batteries for the last two days.

You'd think I'd just go to the grocery store and get me some, but that would require packing up the kids, finding my wallet and taking off these comfortable cotton cropped sweats. The other day my husband asked me, as we were getting ready for bed, "Did you mean to be in sweats all day?"

But she's coming to visit at the end of the week, and she and I have a date for IKEA, so I will get my act together, tomorrow........

Seriously, though. It's not that bad. At least I don't think so.

I feel like we brought our beds over to the new house, put sheets on, stuffed three shirts and a pair of underwear in the dresser, unpacked one box of plates and cereal bowls and then life got busy. The first week we were in the house my mother-in-law was here. A great help, but still not "normal" life. The second (and third?) week was marred by repairmen, electrical issues, opening up a farm account to get a propane tank to run my stove, and kicker of all kickers--septic issues.

Some Sunday night since we moved in, which is now a blur, Dan and I woke to strange sounds coming from the downstairs toilet. Which turned out to be overflowing streams of water running into the dining room. So the next two days--no toilets, no washing machine, no doing dishes (THAT I can handle). My girls would whine, "But mom I neeed to go the bathroom!" And we'd all pile in the car in a flurry of full bladders and show up at my Dad's house, running cross-legged to the restroom.

And then it was fixed.

And then it broke. Again.

When people ask me, "how's life in the new house?" I have the feeling I'm giving them this glazed over smile and blabbering something about "a few hiccups, but we still love it." Big smile.

So yes, there have been a few hiccups. But really, it's like we're waking up a sleeping house. Giving it new life. And there are a few sore muscles in the old girl. And I confess to a few meltdowns. A night of sitting on the edge of the tub, in a bathroom with no electricity, crying to my husband. But then laughing through those tears in the very same minute.

And I'm still laughing now. Now that I *think* we're on the other side of some of these hiccups. (At least for this week.) Though I get a little weak in the knees when I see all the boxes and bags and stuff. I'm somehow finding a way to work very hard all day and yet it seems that not a single box has been emptied.

But my sister is here this week, with her kids. And it's a nice relief. Even though I still haven't unpacked a box. Or gone to the grocery store.

But we did go to IKEA this morning and I bought a little runner for the bottom of the steps. And that makes me happy.

And I swept my kitchen floor this morning and there's a little pile in the corner big enough to well....clog a septic system. Not that I'd want to.

So bear with me as I get back in the swing of things and laugh with me, please, as I recount the early days in the new house. I will move on to other topics, I promise.

I have a bit of news to share. And, as if I didn't have enough to do, I'm dreaming up a little swap. A very simple, easy swap. I'm not that crazy.

Stay tuned. More adventures are around the corner, I'm sure.