MommyCoddle

2009 : in photos + words : february

: 25 February 2009 :

| Changing Our Pace  |

And I realized there's still tomorrow, except for a few things:

Tomorrow, my children will be a little bit older.

And tomorrow, they'll be carrying around memories of today.

And I can stand behind them and rush, rush, rush them through to tomorrow.

Or I can stay with them, and alongside them, and savor them. Today. ....

: 15 February 2009 :

| Cause For Celebration |

I feel like a proud mother. Or maybe a proud mother hen. We've been waiting for this day since September. And lately, with all the spring-like weather, and rooster hanky-panky, I had a feeling it would be happening soon ....

 : 17 February 2009 :

| Not Enough Protein At Lunch |

I began to literally walk from cupboard to cupboard, looking inside and trying to determine what I could possibly cover in chocolate ....

2009 : in photos + words : january

For the next twelve posts, I thought I'd take a look back at 2009, a month at a time. I'm going to pull a favorite picture or two, a few words from a post I want to remember and cherish. I feel like it's a good way to reflect, and a good way to go forward into the New Year. 

To celebrate the good things, the hard things I thought I might just not make it through, the "seasons" that have passed, the funny moments and the joys of 2009, before I wish her so long.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

: 15 January 2009 :

 Befriending a Rooster

I've got this thing with roosters. It goes back to my childhood growing up on a farm. There was Friendly, the rooster who did not live up to his name ....

: 13 January 2009 : 

: Cue The Doves : 

This morning in a sleepy stupor, I heard the rustling of children downstairs. Moments later, I woke to hushed giggles beside my bed and opened my eyes to a dove, preening her feathers on my pillow ....

: 05 January 2009 : 

New Year, New Project :

Habit was born out of a desire to capture little bits of our everyday lives--nothing staged--but real life moments we experience every day. It was meant to stretch us ....

a christmas letter

This morning I am facing what may be the biggest baking/cooking/prepping day of my life. I'm looking forward to the challenge. But first, I'm taking a quiet moment for a bit of coffee, sitting across the room with our lop-sided little tree that was decorated last night by eager little hands.

I thought I'd quiet this little blog for a few more days, but before I do I couldn't forget to wish all of you a happy holiday season. May it be peaceful, merry, warm, and just right. 

Before I go, however, I wanted to share with you a special Christmas letter....the one my mother sent out this year to our friends and family. I wish I had that perfect picture to go with it--because I know exactly which one I'd choose--except it's at her house, and I am here. But I have a feeling the picture will be clear enough in your head. 

Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. 

xo.

molly

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She became my project when she made her way, so many years ago, to the sheep pen in our barn in Leitersburg, Maryland.  Along with two others, she traveled up I-81 from Virginia Tech to Hagerstown in the back seat of daughter Mary’s silver Ford Escort.  Emily was an orphan, and even though I didn’t need a single (or triple) extra thing to do, her fuzzy head and sweet eyes captured my heart.  What’s a mom to say?  Drive those lambs right back to Blacksburg?  Hardly.

Under my care and two bottles of milk replacer a day, Emily flourished.  Soon grain and hay replaced the bottle, and come springtime she discovered green grass and warm sunshine.  Emily and her barn mates, Hope and Nelson, were thriving.  

One late Spring evening around the supper table, conversation turned to the fact that Miss Emily was the only lamb on our farm yet to be sheared.  Since the weather was mild and daylight lingered a little longer, Mary and I headed out to the barn after the dishes were done, with halter, extension cord and clippers in hand.

Here was the thing about this situation:  When we sheared a sheep, it stood on an elevated metal platform. Its head was immobilized by resting the chin in a U-shaped bracket with a soft rope corded around the neck.  Emily had never been off the ground, all four hooves at once.  She had never had her head stuck into something that held her fast.  Sometimes this scenario is challenging if the sheep determines to buck, so to speak, the system…and most do.  We didn’t know how this would go.

Together, Mary and I hoisted Emily onto the stand, placed her chin in the holder and threaded the rope across the back of her neck securing it under her chin.  I stood on one side distracting Emily with a handful of grain.  Mary, on the opposite side, plugged in the clippers and flipped the switch.

The first pass with the clippers from the base of her tail up the middle of her back brought no particular response from Emily.  Mary continued—legs, chest, underbelly.  Emily was incredible--standing there munching peacefully.  Mary shut off the clippers in order to apply fresh oil and let them cool before attacking the last obstacle, Emily’s head.  Loud, vibrating clippers around the face, eyes and ears of a sheep are hard to tolerate even for the most stoic of animals.  So far, Emily had been a dream, but now it could all fall apart.

I dipped out a fresh scoop of grain and Mary started in along the jawbone and toward the ear.  As long as I live, I’ll never forget what happened next. In her moment of fear, as the clippers approached her eye, Emily leaned against me.  She simply shifted her weight and leaned on me.  No panic or jerking.  She just leaned in and we stood there together braced against one another until all was quiet again.

I haven’t forgotten the message Emily sent me that evening.  Unexpected things come along—especially these days.  Jobs disappear, portfolios shrink, houses don’t sell, accidents happen, health issues surface. But there is something anyone can do…lean in.  The Good Shepherd, whose birth we celebrate this time of year, stands near with wisdom and provision.  Every time.

We are blessed beyond measure and send our love and greetings to you and yours.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND PEACE IN THE NEW YEAR.

decorating, naturally

This is one of those posts I've been meaning to share for weeks now. But I'm just getting to it this morning. A little late, I know, but maybe it will provide a little inspiration for any last-minute crafting you and your family might do this week.

Emma and Mary's 4-H club decorated a Christmas tree this year which then gets auctioned and sold for charity. This year the club decided to create ornaments for the tree that were all handmade using natural materials. The idea was inspired by the Brandywine River Museum which decorates a two story tree each year made completely of these handmade ornaments, with natural materials gathered from the grounds of the museum. 

For the get-together the 4-Hers were told to gather and bring any natural materials to the meeting with them, as well as a good supply of hot glue guns! Everything was dumped into a large table and within minutes the 4-Hers were creating. 

It was truly amazing for me to stand back and watch the creative minds of these children come to life. Many had never visited Brandywine, but with a table full of raw materials, they were able to come up with the most creative, amazing, inspiring ornaments. Their ideas were endless. 

The tree turned out to be amazing, as you might guess. It won an award at the festival, and was one of the first to sell( for quite a good price. ) And it has inspired quite a few crafting moments here at home as well. Especially when the combine was working across the road last week, spewing corn cobs and seed into our yard....

I truly hope this inspires you to take a little walk outside and gather. You'll be surprised what little minds can come up with. Just have the glue gun hot and ready. 

See the whole set of ornaments HERE. 

neighborly

We survived our first big storm of the year. They were calling for all kinds of exciting things like two feet of snow, high winds and blizzards. But we woke up this morning to sunny skies and about a foot of snow on the ground. 

The girls were out in it first thing yesterday morning, after the first six inches had fallen and winds and snow were still swirling. The youngest two didn't last long. Elizabeth was in tears, but it was still a battle getting her to give in and come back inside. 

I've been on house arrest, as my husband seems to disappear outside in all MY snow gear--my boots, my big warm down jacket. So while he's been watering chickens, and searching through blizzards for missing cats, I've been inside keeping a steady supply of hot chocolate at the ready. And keeping some semblance of order in a house that is getting a lot of action while we're all hunkered down inside. 

During this storm, I've been overwhelmed by the kindness of neighbors. A family friend showing up, hours before the storm with a box full of hand-me-down snow pants, down jackets, hats, mittens and boots. There was something in the box for everyone. Last year's handed down snowsuit from Emily, just happened to fit Elizabeth perfectly. Everyone had something for the snow. (Well, everyone except me!) 

And this morning, as Dan started shoveling out cars and driveways and paths to the sheds, Mr. Dorsey showed up on his tractor. A neighbor with a tractor is a good thing to have. 

Otherwise, I have a feeling Dan would have been out there shoveling until dusk. That's a lot of snow to move around. 

And once again, I'm thankful for a stash of Christmas cookies in my freezer. An impromptu thank you at the ready. Mr. Dorsey lives alone with no family around, and I'm pretty sure he enjoys a little home-baked goodness in exchange for a quick plowing of the driveway. I even caught him "inspecting" the cookies, as his tractor lumbered back up the road towards his farm. 

Good neighbors, good friends are certainly a gift.

ONE Simple Question : No. 8

It's been getting harder and harder to find willing souls to help with chores around here. But I don't blame them--it's cold, the wind is whipping, it requires dressing in multiple layers, finding hats, mittens, scarves, boots...coming back with runny noses, purple hands and chapped chins.

But there's one little soul, rain or shine, freezing temperatures or mild ones, who's always anxious to come along. Her boots go on before the pajamas come off, and she knows the routine--cats first, throw down food to the chickens, shut the shed doors, walk to the coop and let the chickens out for their dash across the yard to their grain by the garden shed. She also knows how to keep warm--one mittened hand pulled inside her coat the other hand in mine and shoved into my coat pocket. She makes for great company.

On the nights when I find myself alone--doing the evening lock-in by myself, a warm cup of tea in my hands makes for good company, too. But not as good as Elizabeth, of course.  

  

As for my simple question...I'm looking for some ideas. Christmas day breakfast is on my brain. I'm looking for a good recipe for something I can make the night before--either in the crockpot, or something to put in the oven Christmas morning. Something simple, something yummy. 

Specifically, I'd love to find a recipe for baked french toast. I've heard "rumors" of one with thick-sliced bread, apples, cinnamon--something prepared the night before, refrigerated and baked the next morning. I'd love to find a recipe for something like that. Otherwise--I'm open to inspiration. I want Christmas morning to be relaxing but special. I don't want to be standing over the stove flipping pancakes, but rather savoring the morning with my family. But I still want something yummy for the ten minutes I can get my children to gather around the table. 

Recipes? Ideas? Traditions? I want to hear them. I'd like to upgrade from fried eggs and boxed cereal for this special morning....

dreams

Last night I had a dream. Actually, it was early this morning--in that time after Elizabeth woke up, coughing and congested and got into bed with me--the two of us falling sound asleep again. I dreamt that I had written a book. Except that it was still in the beginning stages, unpublished. I gave the pages to my mother, sister and brother-in-law to edit and correct. But I couldn't be there with them while they edited, because I had to be with my brother--we were out on the lake, on his speedboat, that was somehow kept afloat by balloons on long strings of red and white baker's twine. All the boats on the lake had these baker's twine balloons. 

When I returned home, they gave me a copy of my edited writing. They took the liberty of rewriting my work, with their changes, and discarding the original. It was written on wide-ruled lined school paper, in cursive, by my 8 year-old niece. There were pages of kid illustrations stapled to the back, and rainbows and squiggly lines down the sides of the pages. Words were missing from sentences, written in the margins with arrows pointing to where they belonged in the page.

My mother sat across the kitchen table from me as I read, eager to hear how much I loved their changes, what a good job they'd done with it, how it was such an improvement. I couldn't understand where my professional-looking original manuscript had gone. I didn't understand why my niece had re-written this serious work, and how they thought it was remotely "okay" to submit it to my editor. "Well, your sister's typewriter was broken, so we had Abby write it for you. She did such a lovely job, didn't she?" 

I read through their changes, their "improvements". They had changed almost everything. My heart-wrenching details were replaced with babyish sayings, and goofy cliches. I felt stunned. Angry. Betrayed. Heartbroken. Perplexed. Bewildered. Defeated by all the work that was ahead of me, again.

And then, because dreams never resolve themselves, never tie themselves up in a tidy bow before moving on, I woke up. 

And there you have it, a peek inside the mind of a tossing and turning, fitfully-sleeping pregnant woman. I really had no intention of this being the post I wrote this morning, but it was so vivid in my head, I had to put it down somewhere. I had to remind myself not to be mad at my mother and sister when we talked on the phone today. That it was just a dream.

I'll be back tomorrow. I'm bringing back a "simple question". I need some suggestions, and I know you all are just the people to ask.....

prega-knit

"Prega-knit". That's what Elizabeth calls me these days. "Mommy. You. Are. Prega-knit." And this weekend, that was kind of true. I spent more hours than I should allow myself to count, sitting in a chair, beside the fire, knitting away. 

This little broken wrist of Emma's has been getting a lot of my attention lately. Last week we went to see a family Ortho who said her crack was small enough that she could downgrade to a softer splint. And seeing it wrapped around her wrist all weekend kept reminding me of Leslie's Toast. 

And being the ADD knitter that I am, I immediately dropped the current project that I'm making no progress on, to whip up a kid-version of Toast for Emma. 

I had two things in mind with this project:

* single skein stash-busting

* creating some way for them to stay together. If they're anything like the socks and mittens in this house, I knew they didn't stand a chance to survive as a pair.

And so these "Wee Toast" were created--wIth a little seed stitch cuff, and a small tab with buttonhole so that they can be buttoned together when not being worn. When the "Wee Toast" are on, the tab is small enough that it can be tucked inside. 

Now please, bear with me. I'm no pattern writer. But I did jot down what I did, in order to make a few more pairs. I cannot trust my pregnant brain to remember anything these days. Hopefully this will make a wee bit of sense, and you can knit up a "Wee Toast" for a little someone in your life :

:::: WEE TOAST ::::

Yarn : any worsted weight

Needles : Size 7, dpns

CO 27 stitches and divide them among three needles (9 stitches on each needle) Join to work in the round and knit two rows. Knit 5 rows of seed stitch (optional). Continue knitting until piece measures 7 inches, or desired length. Bind off all but three stitches. With two needles work these 3 stitches in stockinette stitch for six rows (ending with a purl). 

On the next knit row : K1, YO, K1. 

Next row : P, P2tog, P, 

Next row: Bind off all stitches and weave in ends. 

For the second "Wee Toast" follow the same pattern but bind off after working 7 inches from beginning. Attach a small button to the top end of second Wee Toast in order to keep them together when not being worn. 

** One other note: I also made a pair of these for Mary (who is 5) and cast on 21 stitches and knit for 5.5 inches. However, they were a little tight on chubby Elizabeth's arms. She would need a few extra stitches for a pair to fit her. Oh those scrumptious baby chubs! **

Hopefully this pattern makes sense. It is very simple and when you get to the tab at the end, it is very easy to visualize, even if my pattern isn't clear. You just knit a little tab with those last three stitches and add a (YO) button hole. 

Now my only problem is to get Emma to take off her Wee Toast and put her splint back on. She's trying to convince me that it keeps her injured wrist warm and happy. 

to my husband : please don't read this post

It's probably dangerous to be posting about Christmas gifts, but this one is so simple and quick, I wanted to share it before the holidays. And it is the kind of thing I love to see hanging around my home. Yes, this gift is for Dan, but I think I love it just as much as I hope he will. 

We're on an extremely small budget for the holidays this year. I've had to be super-organized and super-creative. I've also had to figure out exactly what I want to get each person on my list, versus wandering aimlessly online and in shops, looking for something to catch my eye. 

Ironically, it has been somewhat liberating to be reigned in so tightly this year. In my mind I came up with a plan--one nice, squeal-worthy gift for each child and a few smaller, inexpensive gifts. But for Dan, I knew I wanted to give him a few things that were either handmade or "created" at home. 

In the past I made him these silhouettes of the girls, which he loved and immediately hung up in our apartment. And now they sit just at the top of our stairs, here at Thomas Run. (While taking this picture I realized that Elizabeth's silhouette desperately needs to be updated--her baby picture is quite boy-ish.) 

And this year, I wanted to do something similar--something to mark this year, these ages of our girls. 

When I was little I remember my handprints, made in paint, hanging on the family wall in our kitchen. And with that idea in mind, I decided to create a fabric version for Dan. 

I traced each of the girls hands and then machine-appliqued the handprint onto some linen fabric. With Mary and Emma, I had them write their own names inside of the handprint and I wrote Elizabeth's. Then I simply embroidered over their names with a split stitch and added the year in which the handprints were created.

I was pleasantly surprised to find these frames at the dollar store which fit perfectly. They are not a standard size, but are the type of frame where you'd add multiple photographs of different sizes into a matte board. I removed the matte and slid in the fabric handprints. 

All in all, the stitching and sewing could easily be completed in a day and the whole project cost me $3, since I only used fabrics and embroidery thread in my stash. 

And I think they'll be a pretty nice addition to our growing family wall.

In other shopping news a few things catching my eye, that I wanted to share while there's still time:

Stonz booties : Elizabeth received a pair of these last spring. And I can't tell you how wonderful they are. She is still wearing the same pair she received last year--they are warm, (especially with the sherpa liner), durable, easy to wash (even after an episode in the mud), they stay on, and they are so cute. 

Olive Juice : We've talked on here before about finding (or not finding, actually) classic, age-appropriate clothing for children. And I am completely smitten with this company. Their clothes are classic and well-made and have a touch of vintage charm that I really love. For some of us, the prices may be a little intimidating, but it is well worth your two seconds to sign up for their email list. They have frequent and wonderful sales. I've scored many good deals when they discount all items in their "outlet" to $10. Mary has this shirt. Emma has a dress from them, that I can't find online at the moment. And I absolutely love this, this, and this. Oh! And this, and these!

RosieHippo: I'm also excited about this gift that will be making it's way under our tree for Elizabeth. She'll also get a little set of these.

A few other handmades catching my eye : with our history, of course I kind of dig these fox pillows--is that strange? I secretly wish I could get one for each of the girls. I love the 2010 Tea Towel Calendar from Cicada Studio. And there is a lot of potential with these blank, unfinished wood cutouts....

Phew! That's enough links for one post....happy handmade, happy crafting, happy shopping.

when it rains it pours

And while that statement could be true about our weather, as of late--it is also true of my life. 

First of all, thank you for all of your well wishes for Mary during her recovery from Lyme's. It is a slow and steady recovery, but thankfully, as of yesterday, I think I can say she's pretty much back to normal. No more croquet mallet crutches, no more "Tiny Tim". 

And just when you think life might settle down again, and things return to normal......you drive your oldest daughter to the barn to go riding and decide to hang around because it will only be a short ride. And you stand there in the ring and watch her pony spook, buck and bolt. And you watch her fall hard onto the dirt ring. And she stands up, bleeding from her mouth, nostrils caked with dirt, cheek scraped--scared, but still tough. She tells you her arm hurts, but she can move it, so you relax a little.

And then, brave little girl, gets back up on that pony one more time. Tears still stealing out from the corners of her eyes.

And here we are a few days later. Emma fractured her radius, but thankfully it is only a thin crack. No cast, just a soft splint. The first night was downright brutal. Tears, pain, exhaustion and things being said like, "I'm scared I'll never be able to fall asleep and I'm so tired." or "I don't feel like myself. I just want to be normal again." Moments where you wonder who is hurting more--the little girl, or the mother.

My friends keep checking on me--asking how I'm doing--one child recovering from Lyme's, the other with a cracked wrist. But really, I'm doing fine. Aside from a topsy-turvy school schedule, and floors that billow with dog hair, dust and bits of wood from the woodstove--we're all doing fine. Hot cups of tea in the afternoons, a table littered with craft supplies, too many episodes of Little House on The Prairie, and visitors bringing sugary sweet cookies and quarts of chocolatey ice cream, all help speed up the healing process, I believe. 

I'll be back here next week with a little more regularity. I have a few things I've been meaning to share once I'm off full-time nurse duty.

Happy Weekend. And thanks for caring about our little family.

**the bucking pony picture is actually not from this incident. same pony, old bucking episode. she stayed on for that one:) **

tiny tim

Hello, friends. Wow, it's seems like ages since I've been in this place. I feel like I'm still catching up from our holiday weekend away.

My sister and I basically house-swapped for the holiday. She came here for Thanksgiving and managed to take care of our chickens, dogs and cats. While we went her direction, where my mother also lives--and took care of the animals on her farm. (Though she left us more animals to take care of, she had a more "annoying" situation--as our older Lab wandered the valley the whole time we were away...) Things are never problem-free when you go away, are they? 

To top things off on Sunday morning, little Mary woke up unable to move her right leg. She was in excruciating pain--couldn't move, couldn't touch her skin and it took us two hours to finally get her moving and out of bed. But by mid-day she seemed back to normal.

Monday morning she woke up again with the exact same problem--this time it took me almost three hours to get her up and able to move--and we hobbled straight to the doctor's office.

She'd had a very bad, sore and swollen tick bite at the base of her hairline the week before and in my mind I had the strong suspicion that she had Lyme's Disease. But there was no "bulls eye" rash, and it was very early for symptoms to start to appear.

After a very frustrating experience at the doctor's office--where I felt like he wasn't recognizing the fact that Mary was faking health and lack of pain in order to not be embarrassed in front of him, he did blood work to determine what was bothering her--(yes, I was the mother of the hysterically screaming child in exam room two)--but basically the doctor thought we were looking at "morning stiffness". ??

She continued to go down hill that afternoon and by dinner, I broke down and called him back--convinced that she at least needed to begin a round of antibiotics--something I'm never quick to put my children on--while we waited out the four days for her test results to come back. It's horrible seeing your children in pain, especially when you don't know exactly what is wrong with them or what to do to help.

But the doctor stood fast, and didn't want to start any meds until we knew what was exactly wrong. I hung up the phone frustrated.

Thankfully, the next night, her test results came back earlier than expected and my suspicions were correct--she has Lyme's Disease. And while I hate to see Mary have it, I'm glad we know what's going on and how to help her have some relief.

So now, she's walking around the house like an 80 year-old woman with bad hips. One morning she requested two croquet mallets to help her get around--which has led us to refer to her as Tiny Tim.

The antibiotics haven't kicked in yet, but I can tell she's relieved to be getting something to help her feel better. She also loves the fact that I'm offering her unlimited amounts of yogurt--to help restore some of those good bacteria the antibiotics wipe out. 

As my aunt said the other day, "It's always something, isn't it?" But we're hanging in there. Relief is around the corner. The sun is out today. Emma is horseback riding. The girls have a "baking date" in the afternoon. And I have some crafty plans up my sleeve.

Each day holds both it's own trials and it's own treasures.