tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69521382392164551722024-02-06T23:01:05.400-06:00Motherhood and MiscellanyAmy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.comBlogger382125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-72034822246439884012012-07-27T23:37:00.003-05:002012-07-27T23:37:49.671-05:00We've Moved!<div style="text-align: left;">
Motherhood and Miscellany has moved. You can now find us at: </div>
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<b><a href="http://motherhoodandmiscellany.com/">http://motherhoodandmiscellany.com</a></b></div>
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Eventually I hope to have an automatic redirect from this page to that one, but for now, you can get there by clicking <a href="http://motherhoodandmiscellany.com/">here</a>. Thanks!Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-79687471542466268622012-07-24T14:55:00.001-05:002012-07-24T20:29:16.626-05:00Change is Coming<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have finally decided to take the big step.</div>
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Motherhood and Miscellany is moving. I am working on getting my own domain and switching to Wordpress. I've been debating this for a while, and am finally going to do it.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">She calls these her "Gobbles"</span> </div>
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What does all of that mean exactly? Well, not much really. The blog will still have the same name, but the URL will no longer include "blogspot" because I won't be using Blogger anymore. I will still have <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Motherhood-and-Miscellany/264007916947447">Motherhood and Miscellany's Facebook page</a>, where you can follow and get post updates. I will have a somewhat different, but similar, design for the blog, and hopefully it will be more user friendly. I should have it set up so that if you come to this site by accident, you'll automatically get routed to the new page. I'm transferring all my content. So, that's about it. I think it will be good.<br />
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I'm not exactly sure when I will start posting on the new site, but I'll let you know.<br />
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Change is good.Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-26372284991324671702012-07-22T23:17:00.000-05:002012-07-23T00:10:58.246-05:00Making Memories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We were in recovery mode today. Yesterday we partied hard with our friends. This statement takes on a whole new, yet still quite accurate meaning when you consider that "we" is in reference to four adults with our six children under five getting together for a fun evening of grilling, trampolining, swinging (<i>on the swing set</i>), running, sandbox-ing, exploring, chasing, and s'mores eating, with grown up conversation in between. The three "little kids" (under 2) went to bed after s'mores and the three "big" kids (3 and 4) got in jammies and stayed up to watch Snow White while the adults visited around the fire pit. My husband and my friend's husband had spent what seemed like an hour getting that fire started. They didn't use a lighter or any matches. Just some old-fashioned cave-man fire-starting stuff. I was literally on my way to get the lighter (because it was way past time for s'mores!!) when I saw smoke finally rising from our fire pit. The manly men prevailed, and it was good.</div>
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We had a wonderful time with friends. The kids all got sufficiently sweaty and dirty and scraped up to consider it a true summertime playing extravaganza. They explored our "woods" (treed area around the perimeter of our yard) and jumped themselves silly on our new trampoline. My husband, hero of the evening, played a new game with them, which involved getting on his hands and feet under the trampoline and chasing the kids by pushing his butt up into the trampoline from the underside while running around bear-crawl style. I wish I had seen this and gotten a photo. I heard the laughter and screaming of the kids, but I was putting Sis to bed while this was going on. So I, like you, have only a (very hilarious) mental image of these antics to go by. Oh how I love that man. </div>
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Needless to say, we were all feeling a little worn out today. Incredibly, the girls only slept in a little bit past their usual wake up times, so they were pretty tired and crabby today. We got lots of good down time in though. Nothing like being pooped to bring a family together for some serious <i>bonding</i>. The girls made breakfast with their Daddy. </div>
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They love helping him cook eggs. They work the pepper mill and really get into pinching and sprinkling the salt from my <a href="http://www.zappos.com/emile-henry-classics-salt-pig-citron">salt pig</a>.</div>
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We read <i>lots</i> of books and just relaxed.</div>
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This afternoon we went outside for more backyard fun. I love watching the big girls run and play in the yard. They go on "adventures" and make up scenarios involving monsters and giants and castles and rescue missions. We got them sufficiently tuckered out again this evening. </div>
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This is the stuff of memories. </div>
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<br />Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-41596915868680834562012-07-20T14:47:00.000-05:002012-07-20T14:47:07.418-05:00Thumb Sucker<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Someone discovered something new yesterday.</div>
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Oh. my. goodness. None of my girls have ever been interested in a binkie. I have heard people say that you really don't want your baby to be a thumb sucker, because it can be so much harder to get her to stop when she's older. But this is so cute, I can't bring myself to mind one bit.<br />
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<br />Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-19011878367051669052012-07-16T23:14:00.000-05:002012-07-16T23:22:26.688-05:00Pretending<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I love to watch my girls pretend. Their little imaginations are so funny and amazing and beautiful. They take their favorite parts of their favorite stories and mix them all up to make a whole new story. They play off of each other and come up with entirely new scenarios. I can't get enough of it. </div>
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It helps that recently I scored a few great dress-up bargains for them. Our at-home dress up was kind of pitiful, so I found one princess dress at an online consignment shop (with a 40% off coupon too!), got a bag full of three other outfits plus jewelry from Craigslist for cheap, pulled out an old flower girl dress, and presto! We have dress up.<br />
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True to their personalities, Miss changes from one outfit to another, depending on what she's doing.<br />
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While Lass finds one outfit and stays with it. She may change her accessories, but she's not giving up that green Tinkerbell outfit, which she calls her "fit" (outfit). She puts it on and beams, "I Wedda!" (I'm Cinderella!)<br />
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They try to dress up Sis too so she won't feel left out.<br />
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We have been tea-partying like crazy here. Miss always insists on putting on the purple dress for the tea parties.<br />
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We have lots of "Cheers!" and pinkies out and all that.<br />
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Sis is loving her Bumbo, which allows her to be part of the action.<br />
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I love to see how the girls interpret the stories they read and see in videos. At one point Miss was pretending that the Evil Queen had stolen Snow White's voice (like Ursula does to Ariel). She has started having lots of fun with trying to get us to read her lips. Today at lunch she said, "Momma, do you know what I'm saying?" and she kept mouthing the same thing over and over, in a really exaggerated way. I really tried, but I had no idea what it was. Finally she sighed and said, "Mom, I was saying 'Casey Jones'!!" As in the train from the Dumbo book. Oh. Duh.<br />
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They love to have me be the Evil Queen and act out the poisoned apple scene. Here they were running away from me as Evil Queen.<br />
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I "convinced" Miss to taste the poisoned apple.<br />
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She fell dramatically to the floor.<br />
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Then she called to her sister, "Come on and kiss me so I can wake up!"<br />
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They did this over and over. They make me laugh.<br />
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Of course, we don't only play Princess. We play Chef and Mommy and today they were Doctors.<br />
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Lass loves to hold the play stethoscope up to my leg (or arm or nose) and say, "Momma you sick!"<br />
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I laugh a lot these days.<br />
<br />Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-67910673967452705062012-07-09T23:18:00.002-05:002012-07-09T23:35:32.608-05:00Never Say Never - Thoughts on Homeschooling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well. I never thought I would be writing <i>this</i> post. Though I suppose I should know by now that I ought not say I will never do something as a parent if I don't know a whole lot about what that thing is. That <i>thing</i> in this case is homeschooling. </div>
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I have historically had the typical concerns about homeschooling. "Don't homeschooled kids miss out so much on school experiences?" "How can they be <i>socialized</i>?" And so forth. My husband has at times suggested that we consider homeschooling, but I have resisted for these reasons. Then recently I had a conversation with one of my brothers in law and his wife. She is a teacher in 6th grade and he was telling me about what wonderful experiences she has had with homeschooled kids when they come into traditional school. The conversation went on from there, and I'll spare you the details, but it started me thinking. And asking. And reading. And it turns out homeschool is way more than I thought it was.</div>
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So, what <i>really</i> prompted me to think I might want to homeschool our kids? This:</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">We watched lots of princess movies with Grandma, which sparked some awesome pretending.</span></div>
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And lots of other stuff I have posted about in the past few weeks as we have been traveling. The photos in this post are from some of the other fun experiences (in addition to those I've already written about) my girls had while visiting my parents. See, we don't have <i>any</i> family living near us. The closest family member is about a five and a half hour drive away, which is a little far for frequent weekend trips, and my parents live 10 hours from us. My girls get so much from visiting with our families. They get experiences at my parents' house and at the Farm and in Iowa that could never be matched by the experiences they would get in a conventional school. Not even close. My husband is fortunate to have quite a bit of time off from his job, which allows us to visit the people we love. The people my girls need to know and make memories with. So, we travel. But traditional schooling would put an abrupt stop to that as soon as Miss begins Kindergarten. The more I think about it, I'm just not willing to trade in the flexibility to travel and let me girls know their heritage and all the other things they can and do learn from our trips for conventional schooling. I would if I thought that traditional school offered something truly valuable that they couldn't get through homeschooling. I used to think that it did. But I'm learning that that's not the case. </div>
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Don't get me wrong. I have absolutely nothing against traditional schools. I'm not saying that homeschooling is necessarily better than regular schools. I'm just saying that I have begun to realize that it is better for <i>us</i>. I contacted another blogging mom, Katrina from <a href="http://www.theyallcallmemom.com/">They All Call Me Mom</a>, to ask her about her experiences with homeschooling her kids (she has nine). She was so helpful and gave me some great tips. In fact, everyone I have contacted with questions about homeschooling has been exceptionally warm and kind and informative. I have been able to find some local groups that I think will fit with the type of homeschooling I would like to do. I'm reading some good books (right now I'm really enjoying "The Well-Adjusted Child: The Social Benefits of Homeschooling" by Rachel Gathercole). Essentially, I have reached the point where I feel confident that when the time comes for Miss to start Kindergarten, she'll stay home with me instead. It's pretty exciting, actually. </div>
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I have a lot to learn. And a lot to teach. But that's what moms do all day every day anyway, right?Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-16007046510731748572012-07-08T21:58:00.000-05:002012-07-08T21:58:13.421-05:00Memories in a Box<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When I was a little girl I loved to go to my Grandma's house. She had a jewelry box full of costume jewelry that she let me play with to my heart's content. I would go back to her bedroom and put the jewelry box on her big bed. I'd drape myself in her jewels all afternoon. She had long necklace strands with funky beads, tons of bangle bracelets, brooches, and <i>clip-on</i> earrings, essential for my very young and at that time un-pierced ears. I have many memories of these adventures. And I don't remember <i>this</i>, but one story goes that, as a tiny tot, I once placed all of my Grandma's necklaces on at one time and somehow fell over, calling out in my little voice, "Help! Help!" because I could not get back up.</div>
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My Grandma passed away about two and a half years ago. This past week, my Mom gave me her jewelry box with her costume jewelry in it. Oh heaven! Now, I was a <i>little</i> sad because it wasn't the same box, and much of the jewelry I played with wasn't there anymore. I had had visions of opening my Grandma's white jewelry box to find all the fun beaded strands I had played with in the late 70s and early 80s. I guess Grandma got some new stuff since then. The new box is dark-stained wood. But happily, a few of the pieces I remember playing with were still there and some other items I remember seeing her wear, even if I didn't play with them. It was magical to watch my girls' faces light up as they explored this treasure trove. </div>
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They both loved to see themselves all decked out. Lass repeatedly said, "I go wook in miweh (look in mirror)" and "Sissy, wook miweh too, huh? Come on!"<br />
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They were princesses in their finery. Then Miss decided they needed to be "scullery maids" (we had been watching Snow White). So she changed into her "raggy jewelry" for cleaning house and she and Lass went to town.<br />
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Oops.<br />
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Anybody remember these?<br />
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Those old Fisher Price toys were the other thing I used to play with at my Grandma's house. The "Mommy" with the blue body and yellow hair was a toy I used to love to carry around with me all the time. Sort of like how my middle child has to carry around her "Wedda" (Cinderella) doll at all times and always in her left hand (check the photos above, she's always there). My girls weren't into the little people like they were the jewelry. Miss said, "Oh, cool people!" and then went back to playing with her princesses. Oh well.<br />
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We're home now, trying to get back into the swing of things after yet another week of travel. We've been on the road a lot the past few weeks to be with family. I am thinking about my grandmas, and my husband's grandma, and my girls' grandmas. Grandmas are just special. I have always loved and appreciated my grandmas, but I find myself cherishing them more now that I have children. I wish my girls would know my grandparents the way I did. I know I can't make that happen (though I try with visits as much as possible), but that makes it all the more important to me that they will have wonderful special relationships with <i>their</i> grandparents. So we travel. We get sleep deprived from driving late into the night and sleeping in cramped quarters. We rack up the miles on my vehicle. We get flat tires that my poor husband has to change at 11:00 at night. But you'd better believe my girls will have amazing memories. Someday they might have a special item that brings those memories flooding back, like the box of my Grandma's jewelry. Definitely, they will know the specialness of their grandparents. And that makes it all so worth it. Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-72530024415274069702012-07-04T22:00:00.000-05:002012-07-08T22:00:57.610-05:0054 Photos (And Happy 4th!)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I don't have many good photos of all three of my girls together yet. Today I really wanted to get a photo of the three of them in their little 4th of July outfits. I took 54 photos trying to get a decent one.</div>
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Like on Sunday, Lass was being a photo monkey. At least this time she was a happy and non-screaming monkey.<br />
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Well, not screaming in anger anyway...<br />
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She totally checked out for a little while, so I got a few photos of Miss holding Sis.<br />
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But eventually Lass got back into it. Sort of.<br />
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I finally did get a few good photos. Happy 4th!</div>
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<br />Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-87498514828577456242012-07-03T23:08:00.001-05:002012-07-03T23:08:09.100-05:00Dressing Up, Kentucky Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
You've seen lots of posts showing my girls' dress up adventures recently. They're really into it. They're just like their Mama in that way. I've also posted recently about the dearth of dress up items in my Mom's closet when I was growing up. She came through with a few fun things for the girls yesterday though. Check out this hat.</div>
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It was made, of course, by my Grandma.</div>
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Lass loved it.</div>
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The girls loved seeing their Grandma try on this clown costume, <i>also</i> made by my Grandma. It is actually a full clown costume with a baggy one piece suit that has big buttons down the front. But I'm not sharing that photo.</div>
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When I wrote about my Mom's dress-up-lacking closet recently in <a href="http://motherhoodandmiscellany.blogspot.com/2012/05/things-i-loved-this-week.html">this post</a>, I mentioned the one item she did have that I loved to dress up in - the beautiful silver shoes. I forgot about the beautiful silver purse that went with those shoes. My Mom brought it out yesterday and I was so happy to see it. Seriously. I gasped and exclaimed, "The silver purse!" The girls are loving it too.</div>
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Miss really got into carrying it around.<br />
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Before I gave it to the girls, I opened it up to make sure there wasn't anything in it that they couldn't play with. Turns out I was the last one to use it. Here's what I found:<br />
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This is what I used to carry in my purse. My keys, "address book," and um, FBI identification card?<br />
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Miss enjoyed my special purse contents too. She was very animated in discussing the importance of having her "message" (the FBI card), her "keys to go for a trip in the car," and her "book to read in the car" in her purse.<br />
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I love playing dress up with my girls.Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-87824538431783217372012-07-02T23:36:00.001-05:002012-07-02T23:36:03.348-05:00A Reunion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I love family reunions. Especially reunions where all the generations are represented in force. We had one of those yesterday at my parent's house. My Grandma was here.</div>
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One of the very fun things about our family reunions on my Dad's side of the family is that they are quite extended. And because my Grandma and her sister married my Papa and his brother, and my Grandma's family and Papa's family (meaning their siblings) all grew up together, we get reunions with great aunts and great uncles from all over the place. My Grandma's sister and two of her brothers were here with many members of their families, as well as my Papa's sister and one of her daughters. I'm not sure if these are my second cousins or third or fourth, but it was wonderful to see and visit with them.<br />
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I love watching the interactions amongst family members who have known and loved each other for decades and yet rarely get to see each other. There were elderly siblings. There were in-laws who are a link to a beloved but deceased family member. There were nearly as many family members here from my Grandma's generation as from my girls' (six and eight, respectively). There was lots of reminiscing and catching up. There were plenty of long, good-squeezing hugs too. <br />
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My cousins were here and we saw lots of photos that my Papa took in the 1960s and 70s and 80s. He was quite the photographer.<br />
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Speaking of photography, I really wanted to get a good photo of my girls and my brother's kids (who were the only kids at the party) with my Grandma. This was easier said than done, mostly because poor Lass was not interested in posing for this photo. She tried to run away. She screamed and cried. She was desperately in need of a nap.<br />
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Of all the pics snapped, my husband managed to get this not-too-bad shot of all the kids with my Gram.<br />
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Yes, my girls are all dressed alike. I can't help myself.<br />
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My Grandma went home today, so unfortunately our visit was a bit short. We had a chat last night. I asked her what project she is currently working on. She told me that she had been working on Lass's quilt (each of her grandchildren gets a personalized quilt; you can see Miss's <a href="http://motherhoodandmiscellany.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-girls.html">here</a>), and had gotten it all ready to put together and finish when she realized that her clothes were not quite right for her trip here for the reunion, so she had to make some more clothes and adjust the fit on some others (yes, my Grandma makes all her own clothes, including the outfit you see her wearing in the above photos!). And then she's been working on a military quilt, which will be sent to a military hospital when she's finished. She's also been working on afghans for a girls shelter and lap afghans for the veterans at a hospital near her. I'm sure there's at least one thing I'm forgetting too. It makes me tired just thinking about all that. She is never idle. I love that about her. I think of all the stuff she is constantly doing, and then I am inspired to do more myself.<br />
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Getting lots of family time this week. It's so good for my girls. And it's good for my soul. Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-7137536093585130832012-06-28T23:41:00.000-05:002012-06-28T23:41:15.710-05:00Doing Summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We've been doing summer a little differently this year. Last year we spent several days each week at the pool in the mornings, and were outside playing constantly. This year, with the arrival of Baby Sis, plus Miss having school on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, swimming on Monday and Wednesday mornings, and our standing play date on Fridays, and with naps in the afternoons, well, we haven't been outside as much so far this summer (except for the two weeks we've spent at the Farm already, of course). This summer we've been chilling out around the house a bit more when we are home. </div>
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It's different, but still fun. The big girls have taken to putting on their own dance parties.<br />
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The little baby play table next to Miss is what she was playing the music on. My little budding DJ...<br />
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Lass initially just wanted to watch.<br />
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I won't dance. Don't ask me.<br />
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But of course she started to get into the music before long.<br />
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And eventually really let loose.<br />
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Miss is really into playing her games and being crafty. <br />
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She and I made the "crown" she's wearing from rolled up strips of a Snow White page she colored and yarn. The idea came from our summer babysitter, who brought over this craft and made necklaces with the girls one day. Yep, I now have a babysitter who does crafts with the girls. Her own crafts, that she prepares and brings with her. And cleans up. This is huge. I love this.<br />
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Baby sis is just such a little lover. She's the happiest little baby.<br />
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She has started to giggle a tiny bit. Here is the progression of one of her giggles:<br />
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Miss takes an art class on Wednesday mornings before her swimming lesson. Yesterday Lass and Sis and I ran a few short errands and then sat outside and had a snack while waiting for her class to finish.<br />
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It was the perfect spot for a little snack picnic.<br />
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So far summer has felt very full. Maybe it has been a little too full, with school and swimming and art and play dates and travel and all the other day to day stuff that has to fit in there too. But it has been good. Today was Miss's last day of school for the summer, so we will have a bit of time freed up for pool and park mornings or just playing outside in our own yard a bit more. Tomorrow we leave for Kentucky to visit my parents. My Grandma will be visiting them too, so we will celebrate her 90th birthday and have a family reunion this weekend. I can't wait for her to meet Sis. My parents haven't seen her since the week after she was born. She's three months old today.<br />
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It's gonna be a great trip.Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-29406710957834266782012-06-23T22:42:00.000-05:002012-06-23T23:25:41.318-05:00I Gotta Get Me One of These<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And when I say "one of these," I'm referring to a huge, obnoxious trampoline to put in my backyard. For my kids, of course. Yes. For my kids.</div>
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During our recent weeks of traveling we spent some time with my sister-in-law's family. They have a trampoline in their backyard (along with a pool and lots of chickens, it's like child heaven there). The girls loved it.<br />
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They played "Monster" with my husband and his brother.<br />
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They jumped and jumped and ran and jumped some more. They laughed and screamed a <i>lot.</i><br />
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Miss made up a game called "Kitty-Cat-Cat Ball," which she played with her older cousins. The rules according to Miss: "You throw the ball up in the air and try to catch it. And if you miss it, you have to do something else." Right on.<br />
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This was her proud pose every time she caught the ball. I love, love, <i>love</i> this pose. I just wish this photo would have captured the priceless look on her face too.<br />
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Her cousin was pretending to have trouble catching the ball. Here she was telling him, "You have to keep trying. I know you can do it!"<br />
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Add <i>trampoline</i> to the long list of things I once thought I would never do or buy for my children that I am now scrambling to buy and have rush delivered. I don't know why I used to think I wouldn't get one of these. It's great exercise. The kids can be entertained for hours in there. And with the zip-up safety cage around it, it's like the world's largest playpen! Entertainment + Containment = LOVE<br />
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And who am I kidding? I can't wait to get in and jump around myself too!Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-80936865772945474102012-06-20T22:34:00.000-05:002012-06-20T22:34:29.710-05:00Braving the Pool<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I took the girls to the pool this afternoon for the first time this summer. It's pretty hot here, so I figured it would be a good way to get some outside time after naps (or non-nap in the case of Miss). My husband had a meeting, so I braved the pool on my own. Through having the girls in the water at my sister-in-law's in the past few weeks, we have learned that Lass is fearless when it comes to the water, so I was a bit nervous. I figured we'd be okay though since the pool has zero-entry and I put a floatie on her. At first it was super easy, and I wondered what I had even been nervous about. Sis sat in her car</div>
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seat in the shade and Miss and Lass splashed around harmlessly in less that one foot of water, pretty much right by my feet. Then a friend, who is about two months older than Miss showed up. It was great for the girls to be able to play with her, but her arrival disrupted our little peaceful, safe, easy playing. She and Miss immediately headed for deeper water ("deeper" in this case meaning one to two feet) and of course Lass went right along with them. They were playing "horsey" on some of those pool noodles. That, in addition to the slightly deeper water, was enough to throw Lass off her balance a bit, and twice I went running though the water and hauled her up after she lost her footing and went face first into the water. With the noodle under her she couldn't quite get her feet back under herself. After the second time, I had to call it quits for Lass for today. I think I'm going to get a more substantial life jacket and maybe we'll try it again in a few days. That girl freaks me out. She's my little dare devil. </div>
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I really would love to have some photos of our pool time to post, since it was mostly lots of fun and the girls were, naturally, oh so cute splashing around. But between hawk-watching Miss and Lass, trying to keep the sun off Sis (she was perfectly shaded in her car seat, but then got fussy, so I put her in the Ergo), and making life-saving dives for my middle child, the camera never made it out of my bag. So instead, I'll share with you a few of the photos from last week at the farm.</div>
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Of course my husband did tons of fishing and the girls were very excited to see some of the larger fish he caught. No filleting this time, though.</div>
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Foos-ball-room for the princesses to dance in.</div>
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We had a very big and somewhat scary storm the last night we were at the Farm. It blew up right around snack time, so we took our stuff to the basement for a picnic. The girls seemed unfazed in spite of all the thunder and lightning, the 40-50 MPH winds, sideways-falling rain and hail. </div>
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Of course we celebrated Father's Day morning at the Farm before heading home. During the week prior to our trip, I had the girls make Father's Day paintings. They painted canvases for their Daddy.</div>
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Then Miss did paintings on paper for my Grandpa, my Dad, and my Father-in-law (Lass lost interest after her canvas was done). At the end as she was finishing up the painting for my Father-in-law, her Papa, she decided it would be funny to stick her face in the still-wet paint.<br />
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She seems to be our little budding artist. She really loves to paint anything. She got really into painting some gourds with my Mother-in-law when we were at the farm. She seems to understand the power of art to make people smile too. When she created her painting for my Grandpa she said, "I think this will make Great-grandpa happy." Yes, I think so too.</div>
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<br />Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-47310199241053685332012-06-15T23:54:00.000-05:002012-06-16T14:03:07.308-05:00She Called Them "Little Lambs"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
For the past two days we have been busy celebrating the life of my husband's beautiful grandmother and saying goodbye to her. I am sitting here struggling for the words to adequately describe the emotions I have been feeling. My heart aches for my husband and his loss. I also have my own grief for a woman who was so accepting and loving towards me from the moment I met her. And I am sad that my girls will not have the chance to grow up knowing their great-grandmother. But sorrow and grief do not fully describe my feelings. Yes, I absolutely feel sad. But at the same time, I feel kind of, strangely, <i>uplifted</i> by the past two days. The fact is, it is awe inspiring to reflect on the life of someone so accomplished, graceful, and kind. It is, yes, <i>amazing</i> to see how much this one woman was loved by her family, friends, and community. There was much reminiscing. There were moments of laughter. There was singing that was simultaneously sorrowful and joyous. There were beautiful moments. Bittersweet moments. Tender moments. There were a few moments that I, as a mother, will never forget.</div>
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Like when Miss happened to notice the open casket at the visitation last night. She walked right up to it with such innocent curiosity. Naturally she had many questions. We had a conversation that went something like this:</div>
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Miss: "Mama, why is she lying on that pillow?" </div>
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Me: "Because she died..." </div>
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Miss: "Why?" </div>
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Me: "She was very old and had lived a very long life, and sometimes when people get very very old like that, their body doesn't work as well and they die." </div>
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Miss: "She can't breathe anymore, right?" </div>
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Me: "Right."</div>
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Miss: "That's just like Tessa." (our dog who died about a year ago)</div>
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Me: "That's right Honey." </div>
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Miss: "Mama, why is she in that box?" </div>
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Me: "So that her family and friends could have a chance to tell her how much they loved her and say goodbye. Would you like to tell her you loved her and say goodbye to her?" </div>
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And she did.</div>
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A little while later Miss returned to look at her great-grandma some more. Lass came over as well, and so did my husband. He picked up Lass and asked her if she wanted to say goodbye to her great-grandma. She waved and said, "Buh-bye Gamma." He asked her if she wanted to tell her great-grandma "I love you." She said, "I yuh you Gamma." It was a truly precious moment. </div>
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My husband's grandmother used to call her grandchildren her "Little Lambs." I've heard her use this term of endearment with my girls. I couldn't help but think of this when I saw my girls' pure innocence while trying to understand her death. Amidst all the grief and sadness, there was beauty and <i>life</i>. My husband's grandmother lives on through my girls and the rest of her family. I think that everyone who was a part of the tribute paid to her in the past two days will at some point have to stop and think, "How can I be more like her?" She was that inspiring. This one woman accomplished so much in her lifetime, including starting and keeping together this family: </div>
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<i>80 people</i> directly descended from her or married to someone who is. She held her family together across many years and miles. She was small, yet mighty. She was so much to so many. She was loved. She will be missed.Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-50609032245274307242012-06-11T22:37:00.003-05:002012-06-11T22:37:46.353-05:00Life Lived Well<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
How do you measure a life lived well? A good life? A successful life? I suppose you could answer these questions in many different ways, depending on your priorities. But today I'm thinking of two very special ladies in particular, who I think are very clear examples of <i>life lived well</i>. These two are on my mind for very different reasons today. Neither of these ladies have led lives characterized by tons of money or high-powered jobs. Instead their lives have been exceptionally full of <i>love</i> and <i>family</i>. Work and friends. Laughter and joy. I look at these women and it seems so clear to me that the measure of a good life is How much were you loved? How much did you love in return? If the answer to these two questions is <i>Much, </i>I think one's life has been lived well.</div>
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Today, my Grandma turned 90 years old. She is so beautiful in so many ways. The matriarch of our family. She's kind and loving and amazing. I called her today to tell her happy birthday and she told me that she was going to celebrate her day by having some friends over for a sing-along and cake. She used to be a member of a performing group, and the friends coming to sing with her today are the remaining former members of this group. How awesome is that? I wish I could have been there. Friends. Fun. Laughter. She is 90 years old and still vibrant and full of love. She has loved and been loved <i>much</i>.</div>
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Family. Love. Joy. She rocks. Happy Birthday Grandma.<br />
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Two days ago, another beautiful woman, my husband's dear Grandmother passed away at the age of 92. So she is on my mind today as well. She was a very special lady who left behind an incredible number of people who love and miss her dearly. She had six sons, 26 grandchildren, and 29 great grandchildren! She was a person you couldn't help but adore if you met her. She was loving, gentle, and funny. She most definitely lived life well, with grace and dignity and so. much. love. <br />
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I cannot think of two better examples of full and successful lives than these two amazing women.Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-56250107377727401422012-06-06T22:50:00.000-05:002012-06-06T22:50:23.683-05:00Bring on Summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We have started our new summer schedule this week. Miss is still going to school for the month of June, but she's switched to Tuesdays and Thursdays to make room for a Monday and Wednesday swimming class and Wednesday art class. So far this week we've been busy but thoroughly enjoying it. Lass and Sis came with me to vote in our state's big recall election yesterday while Miss was in school. Lass waited so patiently in line with me. She got a cookie when we were done. And a sticker, of course.</div>
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She is such a funny little character. While on our way out of the building where we voted, an elderly man was walking in, and as we passed him he held out his hand to her as if asking her for her cookie. She was holding her cookie in her left hand, with her right hand holding mine. Without skipping a beat, she let go of my hand and slapped the man's hand to give him "5." She is awesome.<br />
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Sis just hung out and slept the whole time. She's a dream baby. We voted after she had her 2-month doctor's appointment. She weighed in at the 90th %ile, and her height is around the 97th %ile. Pretty much the same as her sisters at that age, though Miss is now around the 50th %ile for both height and weight. I had to pull out 6-month sized clothes for Sis this week!<br />
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Miss started a new art class today. I tried out the drop-in childcare at the YMCA for Lass and Sis and got in a workout while Miss's class was going. I have never done that before. I am wondering why. It will now be a weekly practice.<br />
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Naturally, we had some mad dress-up after coming home. Miss has started striking these funny little poses when I ask if I can take her picture. <br />
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I have no idea where she learned this, but I love it.<br />
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Both older girls were accessorized to the max. <br />
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Thank goodness this little one is a wonderful traveler. <br />
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We are leaving again for the Farm on Friday for another week of sun and outside playing and exploring. And dress up. There will be lots of dress up I'm sure. I know Lass will be happy to reunite with the pink leo. <br />
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Welcome summer!Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-79765301456441911632012-06-03T21:21:00.000-05:002012-06-03T22:51:59.717-05:00Fashion Shows and Fishing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The title of this post really sums up the variety of things the girls have to do when we go to the farm. The last post showed a good selection of their activities, as well. It just seems never-ending. One day early in the week I came out of our room after feeding and changing Sis to find this:</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">You can't see much of them here, but she paraded around in these big gold flats calling them her "dancing shoes."</span></div>
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The girls and their "Baba" (my mother-in-law) had gotten into the dress up basket and they were in heaven. Miss switched between several different outfits, but Lass found the one she liked and didn't vary from it. They were both princesses ready to go to the ball. We all got dressed up and danced and twirled. They selected my outfit.<br />
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Yes, we <i>all</i> got dressed up.<br />
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Sis gave her opinions on our outfits and dancing techniques.<br />
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She is very chatty these days.<br />
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I think it was Tuesday that the girls discovered the dress up clothes, and from that point on, each morning when they woke up the first thing Lass did was ask for "dress up!" and "pincy!" (princess). She spent much of the rest of our time there in that pink leotard. In fact she often had a mini fit when I took it off her to change her diaper of get her dressed. The one thing she was always willing to take it off for though was to go and play outside. We had lots of fun exploring the Farm on the Ranger.<br />
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We took a long ride one day and ended up on a dirt road where there were two very old houses that had mostly collapsed. I pointed them out to Miss and she was fascinated by them. She kept talking about the houses that had fallen down and how someone should have taken better care of them and maybe we should go and fix them.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Stopping for a snack in the shade. </span></div>
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Of course after our ride it was time to go fishing. Miss had been talking about fishing with her Daddy for weeks before this trip. She caught some bluegills, which she called "blue jays" when I asked her what kind she had caught. </div>
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Lass loved to sit by the pond and throw rocks in the water while her sister was fishing.<br />
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We had a jammy day one day when it was cold and rainy out. The weather was great for fishing so my husband and two nephews went out on the boat and ended up bringing home dinner. Lots of walleye. The girls were quite intrigued by the process of filleting the fish.<br />
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Notice Lass's outfit.<br />
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The girls' cousin showed him the walleye's teeth.<br />
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My girls always seem to grow and learn so much after a week of travel, either to the farm or visiting my family, or wherever we go. Lass's vocabulary seems to triple and Miss's use of subtleties of language improves noticeably. She even learns things like, "I'm going to kick you in the weenie!" from her older boy cousins, which of course prompts a conversation about what a weenie is and why we don't say that or do that. But that could be another whole post, I suppose.<br />
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I love to watch my girls blossom at the farm.<br />
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<br />Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-45141625569714397052012-05-30T08:56:00.000-05:002012-05-30T08:57:08.439-05:00A Weekend in Photos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We are doing it up right this week, here at the Farm. The weekend was hot and sunny and beautiful and perfect for little girls to have fun outside with cousins and aunts and uncles. </div>
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There was mud digging and splashing<br />
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Sand castle building<br />
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Frog catching<br />
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And butterfly chasing.<br />
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The girls did plenty of drawing with sidewalk chalk.<br />
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We went exploring and treasure hunting.<br />
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Miss got her hair done like her older cousin.<br />
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I need to learn how to do this!<br />
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The girls battled with some swords.<br />
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Check out her form!<br />
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Baby Sis observed happily.<br />
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There was a rousing game of kick ball.<br />
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To top it off, a campfire with s'mores and fireworks.<br />
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And, somebody is two months old already. Holy smokes.<br />
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Gotta go. I have some mud-pie-making to do. Or treasure hunting. Or maybe swing pushing. Or sidewalk-chalking...Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-74695682090677581412012-05-28T23:04:00.000-05:002012-05-28T23:04:06.381-05:00The Preschooler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm playing catch-up a bit tonight. We are at the Farm, and due to traveling and then visiting with family, I have not had a chance to post about Miss's preschool graduation party until tonight. Of course, <i>she</i> didn't graduate from preschool, but a three or four of the other kids in her school did, so there was a little party last Thursday to celebrate the end of the school year and say farewell to those kids heading off to Kindergarten next year. I love that her school is a mixed age school and that it is so small, so that she sees her older classmates taking this step to Kindergarten and yet doesn't lose too many of her friends from the past year.</div>
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The party was lots of fun. Miss spent almost the entire time intently focused on making a necklace for herself.</div>
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Once she finished it (you can see how long it is in the photos below!!) she went over to the face painting area. She was a little unsure about the face painting at first. She is my cautious girl, and she wanted to think this one over a bit.<br />
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She eventually sat down and allowed one of her teachers to paint a flower on her cheek. A blue flower of course. I love that her teacher knew that blue is her favorite color and commented on it to her (Miss wears a blue shirt to school almost every day).<br />
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Though she didn't graduate from preschool to Kindergarten, she did get a certificate for completing her first year of school. I am so proud of how far she has come in this past year. She has learned so much and really gained in confidence. My girl who used to cry every time I dropped her off at school now doesn't want to leave when I come to pick her up. Every day she says, "Mama, I had <i>so much fun</i> at school today."<br />
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When we got home Miss proudly showed off her necklace and face paint (which took three days to wash off, by the way).<br />
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Then we had our own little party with some treasures from the Target dollar aisle (have I mentioned how much I love the Target dollar aisle?) and some new sunglasses purchased for our trip to the Farm.<br />
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I have so many great photos already from the past weekend of the girls with their cousins at the Farm. I will post them very soon. 'Night.<br />
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<br />Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-78989284950775066722012-05-24T22:50:00.000-05:002012-05-24T22:50:29.086-05:00Wednesdays with Lass<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
At least once per week, on Tuesday or Wednesday or both, I have a special morning with Lass while Miss is at school. Sometimes we run errands or just go home and play. Often we go to a local cafe where they have a big play area for little ones. Sis comes along of course, but mostly she just sleeps or chills in her car seat or wrap, so it is special time for Lass and me to hang out. Her little personality just seems to blossom during these times. She is so curious and chatters away about everything she sees. She loves to look at the mural at the cafe and point out each animal she sees. She plays in the little house and with the train table.</div>
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We have a snack. She likes to climb up in the chair at one of the other small tables, point to the other chair and say, "Sit? Mama sit?" Then we sit at the table, just the two of us and chit chat.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Yesterday she wouldn't take off this paper bib after her snack.</span></div>
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She is growing and changing so quickly. She's 21 months old today. Her vocabulary seems to grow every day and she now speaks in full sentences. She has little things she likes to say a lot, like "No yet," if you ask her to do something or "Okay?," meaning, "Are you okay?" She pats or rubs my arm or leg if she can when she asks this one. She is very interested in taking care of her baby sister and tries to be able to do all the things her big sister can do. She is now wearing a "big girl pony tail" like her big sis. She looks so grown up.</div>
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I love my mornings with my middle girl. </div>
<br />Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-85769774091002999472012-05-22T22:58:00.000-05:002012-05-22T22:58:32.767-05:00The Tantrum<br />
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Last week my husband worked nights and Miss didn't nap. That wasn't the best combination, and we had a few rough points during the week. It reminded me of another time my husband was working nights and Miss had her first super crazy meltdown tantrum. Aaaah, memories...</div>
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Okay, so I am floundering a bit with this "Terrible Twos" thing. I hate even saying that. "Terrible Twos." Having a nearly-two-year-old is not terrible. Most of the time, it's pretty great. But I have found myself in this place recently where sometimes, just sometimes, it is totally. crazy. psycho. During Miss's toddlerhood thus far we've had our share of "moments." Brief little fits. Minor tantrums. They were usually short and they'd blow over quickly. Miss could be distracted pretty easily, and if not she'd pull herself together without too much drama. The one area where we sometimes would have a big meltdown would be after nap when Miss would sometimes wake up in a terrible mood and just have a screaming fit for what seemed like an age.</div>
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And then we had today. This morning. My girl woke up like a little ray of sunshine, as always. We had fun playing and coloring and watching a little bit of Sesame Street. We pretended to be dinosaurs. She pretended to make lemonade. Then she said she was hungry so I took her in the kitchen to get a snack. I asked her what she wanted. "Bunny crackers." "Yogurt." Okay, no problem. I got out the yogurt, got a spoon, opened the yogurt and started to put it in front of her. Strawberry yogurt. Yum. Then she asked for a sandwich. I simply said something like, "Well honey, let's have a little snack now and then I'll get you a sandwich at lunchtime." Hello. Commence screaming. Seriously. She started howling like a banshee and did not stop. I tried all my usual tricks. I tried to get her to laugh. I said something like, "I'm sorry you're upset. Please use your words to tell me what you want and I'll be happy to help you." Ha!! After a while of more shrieking I thought I heard her say, "bunnies," so to try to positively reinforce her "using her words" I got the bunny crackers out and put some on her placemat. She screamed harder. I ate her yogurt and tried to wait her out. She said "down" so I got her down from her chair, at which point she fell to the floor and continued howling. My husband, who was upstairs trying to sleep came downstairs and asked her why she was crying. She stopped for a second, said "Daddy" and then went right back to yelling. He looked at me, I shrugged, he went back upstairs with a comment to the effect of, "Well, I just wanted to make sure that you weren't knocked out down here or something . . ." The rest of what he said was lost in the noise of our daughter. I'm pretty sure that was his no-so-subtle way of saying, "Okay, since you're conscious, can you please do something about our child's insane wailing?" It didn't help that he happened to come downstairs during the part where I was eating her yogurt and trying to wait her out, so it probably looked like I was just chillin', having a snack, not realizing that our child had turned into a little puddle of insanity on the floor.</div>
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Anyway, it went on. I could describe the whole painful morning in detail, I'm sure, as it feels as though the scene is scorched into my brain, never to be forgotten. The First Big One. But I'll spare you the details. Okay, I probably already gave way too many details. So, we can leave it at, It Was Bad, and move on. I probably could have ended it rather quickly by turning on the TV or letting her watch Yo Gabba Gabba on the computer or something like that. But I could not bring myself to do that. It just felt like that would have been reinforcing a behavior I'm not anxious to have repeated. Okay, don't laugh, I know it will be repeated in some form quite a few times and probably agonizingly in public on at least a few occasions too. I'm just saying, I don't want to <i>increase</i> the frequency of the Tantrum From Hell by reinforcing it. I'm a psychologist. I'm all into my behavioral principles. I know them forwards and backwards. I guess I automatically get Skinnerian in my head when dealing with this discipline stuff. But I gotta say, this morning, I felt L.O.S.T. I wasn't mad. I wasn't really even upset. I just had no idea how to make it stop. I knew I didn't want to reinforce the behavior, but I also wasn't trying to punish her. She's almost two. She doesn't have good control of her emotions and still has trouble expressing herself. She's learning to deal with this stuff just like I am. But wow. I felt like I had been dropped into the deep end and had forgotten how to swim. I suppose, to stick with this simile, I managed to tread. And you know what eventually worked? I sat down on the floor where we had been coloring earlier, picked up a crayon, and started coloring. Within a minute she had stopped crying and was sitting next to me coloring away. Who knew?</div>
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So, I don't really know where I'm going with this post, except to say that I am finding more and more Mommy-moments when I really feel like I'm not sure what the heck I'm doing. I always end up just going with what feels right to me, and things turn out okay. But then I look back and analyze everything and wonder if I did it right and am I going to screw my kid up forever or is she going to turn into a raging brat because I didn't discipline her enough or did I do it too much and now she's going to be insecure or rebellious??? Maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration. I'm not quite <i>that</i> neurotic. But I do tend to look back on what I did and see if there's something I should do better or differently the next time. I guess I'm just making a mental note to myself that, even with all my principles of reinforcement swirling in my head, I still need to learn how to make it work with <i>this</i> girl. And maybe it will be different every time. And then I'll have to learn it all over again with Lass. And so on. So, I've come to realize that there is no greater <i>in vivo</i> learning experience than motherhood. This is my classroom.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7f83v7xNslPULrTNdTr37fptlbWPs-Iwr62_5QlEErAjiZugw0kCCkT7wiGp-Ug_UP4V_yJsI4XHp3yBS-77EjMKggAC63WxkRahDYBU5YSLtfyQ5nxtdM-5dimbTzNUnJLz9b4lt7LQ/s1600/DSC_0644.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564485705642635522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7f83v7xNslPULrTNdTr37fptlbWPs-Iwr62_5QlEErAjiZugw0kCCkT7wiGp-Ug_UP4V_yJsI4XHp3yBS-77EjMKggAC63WxkRahDYBU5YSLtfyQ5nxtdM-5dimbTzNUnJLz9b4lt7LQ/s320/DSC_0644.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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After Miss's fit resolved, I got Lass (poor thing was just hanging out playing during the whole drawn out drama) down for a nap and asked Miss if she wanted to do some finger painting. This was a first for her so she had no idea what I was talking about, but she sure thought it sounded cool. So we got messy as our way to "make-up" (not quite the right word, but I liked the alliteration of the title) after the meltdown.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB6MfyxpHcb3EGzbdahazNWdNBqUT1kkyOePsDG_k5oqd2fk8IY2GhJpP06LmV-vFbsN5AlbE9KzRoDR1Q8tbJ3hw3UTiqJ9twNoCM0WP5XxNd_g2fEFdmcaEKQ3m9MdzuFGWagUB_E5w/s1600/DSC_0649.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564485700920094802" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB6MfyxpHcb3EGzbdahazNWdNBqUT1kkyOePsDG_k5oqd2fk8IY2GhJpP06LmV-vFbsN5AlbE9KzRoDR1Q8tbJ3hw3UTiqJ9twNoCM0WP5XxNd_g2fEFdmcaEKQ3m9MdzuFGWagUB_E5w/s320/DSC_0649.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVPl2Z5RUXzEHVAbRWEVS32XiZvA0_Xmd5jXrBg3EHCUolDahQUqsoV0mKw64aWmwoHg3DEPPotjB7fivVGq0cErvl54mhIz7Q1a5sy5QacKcF_pFOeXvxicazp-GCrrfQRE7hr2yz6s/s1600/DSC_0651.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564485693376859522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVPl2Z5RUXzEHVAbRWEVS32XiZvA0_Xmd5jXrBg3EHCUolDahQUqsoV0mKw64aWmwoHg3DEPPotjB7fivVGq0cErvl54mhIz7Q1a5sy5QacKcF_pFOeXvxicazp-GCrrfQRE7hr2yz6s/s320/DSC_0651.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yEa_tYJEnNL0Iot7r_C_4PdIfD2UxggWtLAgItRTV32ojqxia2ozsBlrS5fLos5uHTFdE0mCLhni19LKWO3AkJ_Jg9d2JlAI_Sj4QegCX4X-E2YNEsCj47IKsWJW39rn820021AFjrU/s1600/DSC_0655.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564484408187272706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yEa_tYJEnNL0Iot7r_C_4PdIfD2UxggWtLAgItRTV32ojqxia2ozsBlrS5fLos5uHTFdE0mCLhni19LKWO3AkJ_Jg9d2JlAI_Sj4QegCX4X-E2YNEsCj47IKsWJW39rn820021AFjrU/s320/DSC_0655.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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She liked squishing the paint between her fingers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQe_pjs4LyntInQcU7wXhIOEgJAdGr7dszIrfi0rhQlTAncGlKjFGdtMwfm9xnLZaoVa2aJfyPPOJTfddNInQmRULnoOE7hO1_C63frvFDaE0ZJmdLGo75iynWUYF2PYEUXQISo1fH-I/s1600/DSC_0658.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564484395404444658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQe_pjs4LyntInQcU7wXhIOEgJAdGr7dszIrfi0rhQlTAncGlKjFGdtMwfm9xnLZaoVa2aJfyPPOJTfddNInQmRULnoOE7hO1_C63frvFDaE0ZJmdLGo75iynWUYF2PYEUXQISo1fH-I/s320/DSC_0658.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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Masterpiece #1.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YywyI-nepszspa0AYE7fqEiOIwM0jp5nRBmpcMvpnQRvw5SMbN_GolWifMaYsvCtshms19AMNydNLASOv3D4qCEVKGlbsdDHAscQLKefGWxufJ1Zxhbmbl0xgJLaDp5aohpEfUEBeig/s1600/DSC_0659.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564484388195794530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YywyI-nepszspa0AYE7fqEiOIwM0jp5nRBmpcMvpnQRvw5SMbN_GolWifMaYsvCtshms19AMNydNLASOv3D4qCEVKGlbsdDHAscQLKefGWxufJ1Zxhbmbl0xgJLaDp5aohpEfUEBeig/s320/DSC_0659.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 213px;" /></a></div>
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A bit of a lighter touch with this one.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSoZTotBuGM0h3DQmgCL_ntWlIzJH59GdXn4YttZUAAsMJYs-edh_2Iu8gRBpWqIRLvXtOodj5YrTUrLY6r295qq8eFnOQvEroXlWUcHwGLebAeey0Jzd722dL30YJCoAeoPHoMdzzeI/s1600/DSC_0671.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564483051612789810" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSoZTotBuGM0h3DQmgCL_ntWlIzJH59GdXn4YttZUAAsMJYs-edh_2Iu8gRBpWqIRLvXtOodj5YrTUrLY6r295qq8eFnOQvEroXlWUcHwGLebAeey0Jzd722dL30YJCoAeoPHoMdzzeI/s320/DSC_0671.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 213px;" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEi6pM180tw_exBzxDTnpGndNfmDSCS1vZYb-nMEmu-9oV_gQA86cSBf8ZpCPhtM1-hoUyKwJq6FL6IUBcEvKQdiTOahe5gVZVvx8Xhv2tQUNjNHr2fYDDDX7FFg_cfHLheZh5jGgt8Y/s1600/DSC_0678.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564483047615591490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEi6pM180tw_exBzxDTnpGndNfmDSCS1vZYb-nMEmu-9oV_gQA86cSBf8ZpCPhtM1-hoUyKwJq6FL6IUBcEvKQdiTOahe5gVZVvx8Xhv2tQUNjNHr2fYDDDX7FFg_cfHLheZh5jGgt8Y/s320/DSC_0678.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 213px;" /></a></div>
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After a while she got freaked out that her hands were so messy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbEzQJ6iUbXsVUUs4ayGaA8_2MRiYIBPxWJSHuHfesTC5I1nf0LD1u2AcZEZftcMuFlsPW8p-tG3CsX8iBTmXBwo7nIWrQJFT3Qfyj7gD_oVu4-TKmZEn-QRsJXZ2VqtceYvjdR3zfpg/s1600/DSC_0686.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564483036731309554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbEzQJ6iUbXsVUUs4ayGaA8_2MRiYIBPxWJSHuHfesTC5I1nf0LD1u2AcZEZftcMuFlsPW8p-tG3CsX8iBTmXBwo7nIWrQJFT3Qfyj7gD_oVu4-TKmZEn-QRsJXZ2VqtceYvjdR3zfpg/s320/DSC_0686.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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So she cleaned them off and got right back to it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4M_7CCYHrYEP2Ylw67FKkf6TSTgN1ytkpSSXt9RNlCAo-wvYt_vYscXHi82ItzydPgJv9JvPnLn2L1B5Lf_O8_OQiaXh4tF0EpD6lqNy8rDc3aIMgePn9G6xKzqkaEXeq3FXLzJmFfwU/s1600/DSC_0685.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564481180528606306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4M_7CCYHrYEP2Ylw67FKkf6TSTgN1ytkpSSXt9RNlCAo-wvYt_vYscXHi82ItzydPgJv9JvPnLn2L1B5Lf_O8_OQiaXh4tF0EpD6lqNy8rDc3aIMgePn9G6xKzqkaEXeq3FXLzJmFfwU/s320/DSC_0685.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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She decided to try tasting the paint and didn't much care for it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetdEwbohecDTd1G42IIcdnsFQYiNVlE9PAPXfyFqRszgNuM1DV099YTcz1efyNhikfyQKt7-DL9d8ayySHHokzbTWAqLdZ2Lq4GPCRPl06D0mgMOJPJd34-iT8W4Q-0OLzBROuciSpvg/s1600/DSC_0687.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564481172109126706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetdEwbohecDTd1G42IIcdnsFQYiNVlE9PAPXfyFqRszgNuM1DV099YTcz1efyNhikfyQKt7-DL9d8ayySHHokzbTWAqLdZ2Lq4GPCRPl06D0mgMOJPJd34-iT8W4Q-0OLzBROuciSpvg/s320/DSC_0687.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 277px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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For the record, Crayola's "washable" finger paints are indeed washable.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVfB8y98ZMLDn-Q97uyC9G4SKjPdNWBv5ld7UyIgQhNpv-DnClqKELrABFz0wXhWiQ4rcZfatXW0O7le-neXch-Nj2PAeE-avEQIxvqJj2e9O6UhYu8xNNMk0jBH_twk51nx6uOO5y23s/s1600/DSC_0691.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564481160889472290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVfB8y98ZMLDn-Q97uyC9G4SKjPdNWBv5ld7UyIgQhNpv-DnClqKELrABFz0wXhWiQ4rcZfatXW0O7le-neXch-Nj2PAeE-avEQIxvqJj2e9O6UhYu8xNNMk0jBH_twk51nx6uOO5y23s/s320/DSC_0691.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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Gallery.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2keBJt7fu4n3blW2ddxeDIAGBIWmTfEIZd-jQAHwQUidspe3_wWAoDTg4ewrkeX9pXwtWYyjEUw9Rwq4kwkIcRSH1gZS9ZZAdFWoXCGMuiruB_QRAv7JkkJfYYU6Ut1E7Vv0bimX43lM/s1600/DSC_0699.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564480179568577426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2keBJt7fu4n3blW2ddxeDIAGBIWmTfEIZd-jQAHwQUidspe3_wWAoDTg4ewrkeX9pXwtWYyjEUw9Rwq4kwkIcRSH1gZS9ZZAdFWoXCGMuiruB_QRAv7JkkJfYYU6Ut1E7Vv0bimX43lM/s320/DSC_0699.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 213px;" /></a></div>
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She seemed to like this set up better.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNCWsXNT6cGoYKhYliLOkohfLlV-_rlVGqEJy9yZH3pNd0nD2nC2P-HCTS0JSF2u9fAQxeL854iXYS_vzHSHF55sCnVW23rdXJG88WCo8qQYnmEoYAa8SImIntBR4ZZPD_iLMf_5TNGQY/s1600/DSC_0700.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564480166736215138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNCWsXNT6cGoYKhYliLOkohfLlV-_rlVGqEJy9yZH3pNd0nD2nC2P-HCTS0JSF2u9fAQxeL854iXYS_vzHSHF55sCnVW23rdXJG88WCo8qQYnmEoYAa8SImIntBR4ZZPD_iLMf_5TNGQY/s320/DSC_0700.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 262px;" /></a></div>
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Aaand, we're done.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3wMPXGlbTbKvb5nntbByMybr5mJB9hu5YPxE8pmeGayJFq0l9zabS5JZpFv7rHLx0VLRTrN9-TfVrhLiiwF9wXE5eHtQ-nPQCWmq5O0rlq7MVidGohsXcWN69uSVRz9Wcgbw4ufEOtGY/s1600/DSC_0703.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564480156318900354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3wMPXGlbTbKvb5nntbByMybr5mJB9hu5YPxE8pmeGayJFq0l9zabS5JZpFv7rHLx0VLRTrN9-TfVrhLiiwF9wXE5eHtQ-nPQCWmq5O0rlq7MVidGohsXcWN69uSVRz9Wcgbw4ufEOtGY/s320/DSC_0703.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 213px;" /></a></div>
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What better way to finish a messy craft time than with a bubble bath?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmbnukvu6jWMg_mP_zhsRBqKpaufN0z2a8WnyC6I4Xzk85hNs8guhdbPBqzt0RCDyT0IDWeUhi-cd9D7Fo1x8uLXJNtvOsMT2Xo93SvRBSeqRANpP78_VVvgUdocW8yLM7kA1UU5jMnA/s1600/DSC_0707.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564479214725365218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmbnukvu6jWMg_mP_zhsRBqKpaufN0z2a8WnyC6I4Xzk85hNs8guhdbPBqzt0RCDyT0IDWeUhi-cd9D7Fo1x8uLXJNtvOsMT2Xo93SvRBSeqRANpP78_VVvgUdocW8yLM7kA1UU5jMnA/s320/DSC_0707.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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Hanging out with Lass at lunch time. We had no more eating-related meltdowns. She had forgotten entirely about the sandwich. For lunch she wanted strawberry yogurt and Cheerios. Unfortunately I had eaten the last strawberry yogurt while she was howling face down on the floor, but she was content with apple. And I wasn't gonna fuss about the lunch menu today. Apple yogurt and dry Cheerios? Sure.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4l_vbicWjw2T1o0hI-NTerUaF1VxsyQtoPohO8EHZGg394P41TUvdK4lJrp-lx4k7b7f_wpI2D6PLglrvaHe-_K_6SDRrPky4NKc5y3zu4SjjSNZZVpHpmBCpilSWxG8HchREVutPb94/s1600/DSC_0720.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564479200470170834" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4l_vbicWjw2T1o0hI-NTerUaF1VxsyQtoPohO8EHZGg394P41TUvdK4lJrp-lx4k7b7f_wpI2D6PLglrvaHe-_K_6SDRrPky4NKc5y3zu4SjjSNZZVpHpmBCpilSWxG8HchREVutPb94/s320/DSC_0720.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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And here she is proudly showing off her artwork to her Daddy when he woke up.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2NdSHbBw9achIwH8sYW_bZflOLSHHbzrvFJICtyTkJ5_6vy4rAoaKFz70UQGMX4iFMFENsyIMfkeyvhNjTJeoNgSLBaH7OsJkvtfxVan_LDT0_k6UX02ZP8fAqDfyKRWkPsAJ-uDHAGU/s1600/DSC_0721.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564479188504671458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2NdSHbBw9achIwH8sYW_bZflOLSHHbzrvFJICtyTkJ5_6vy4rAoaKFz70UQGMX4iFMFENsyIMfkeyvhNjTJeoNgSLBaH7OsJkvtfxVan_LDT0_k6UX02ZP8fAqDfyKRWkPsAJ-uDHAGU/s320/DSC_0721.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 225px;" /></a>Before I click "Publish Post," I feel like I should say that I know this is my second post in less than a week that might seem like it has a bit of a "complain-y" feel to it regarding mothering a toddler. I am not complaining. I realize all the time how lucky I am to have these two little people to bring up in the best way I can. Sometimes I screw up, and sometimes I nail it, and always I hope that I will learn and get better. And this blog is my way of chronicling this journey, and sharing it, and helping myself to figure it out by getting the words out of my head. So that's it. Going to Arizona tomorrow. Wish us luck on the plane! Good night.</div>
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Things are back to normal around here this week and much improved, though Miss still isn't napping, which means she's a bit of a mess by bedtime. But nothing like she was that day^^^ </div>
</div>Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-58200454108877400222012-05-20T11:30:00.000-05:002012-05-20T14:15:11.729-05:00Simple<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This weekend I'm enjoying simple things. Lilacs in mason jars on my counter and table. Big smiles and hugs from my girls. Playing outside in amazing, warm weather. Watching imaginations bloom and sister games develop. Great times with wonderful friends. Date night. Some lovely real snail mail notes from my Grandma and a sister in law. We're not doing anything extravagant or big this weekend, but doing simple things together is exactly what makes me happy right now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwu2fpT3-KMY1JjgFulLr6ATL4kZZzEk-IvmIF_mMfUag27qCMJi7_Fxp5tquhAIYo5LIF8z3Mclm8h1rM3_gSgsOfB54p2PnJIXDlQZ8kelLP57hz5aJ02Q0YfexZMLOlV84xAIO8v2Q/s1600/DSC_0853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwu2fpT3-KMY1JjgFulLr6ATL4kZZzEk-IvmIF_mMfUag27qCMJi7_Fxp5tquhAIYo5LIF8z3Mclm8h1rM3_gSgsOfB54p2PnJIXDlQZ8kelLP57hz5aJ02Q0YfexZMLOlV84xAIO8v2Q/s640/DSC_0853.JPG" width="476" /></a></div>
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Miss has had some trouble with a bit of eczema. We discovered it was probably largely being caused by her frequent wearing of her "ballerina costume." So I have had to tell her she can no longer wear it and explain why. I was worried this might lead to an all out screaming fit. But to her credit, Miss has taken this in stride and is now just working on expanding her dress up repertoire. At a play date on Friday she was a doctor. Yesterday, she was a princess. She had been wearing high-heeled play shoes and carrying a Snow White purse in addition to her tutu and crown, but in preparation to go outside to play, we discussed every princess's need for real shoes and sunglasses. She chose boots. It's a good look.<br />
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I believe this stick was supposed to be some sort of weapon for fending off the "Evil Queen," her sister.</div>
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The weapon of the Evil Queen? A watering can.<br />
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Miss chose this rock as her place from which to defend herself.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugEAV4KrpP90dxRT5kHv_Yu6O7OD8caGWVwBDWQA2-3Ysa3v5HWuDRpKb7Q3i0gujuhlMfMntv4LIS5J8ElMrmR9yHeqld40huQdA5v0SrIkqWKLXdK1dBl7WPWlU1DErO7L2clXQCgU/s1600/DSC_0867.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugEAV4KrpP90dxRT5kHv_Yu6O7OD8caGWVwBDWQA2-3Ysa3v5HWuDRpKb7Q3i0gujuhlMfMntv4LIS5J8ElMrmR9yHeqld40huQdA5v0SrIkqWKLXdK1dBl7WPWlU1DErO7L2clXQCgU/s640/DSC_0867.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="424" /></a></div>
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"Here she comes!!!"</div>
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Terrifying, eh?</div>
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The battle.<br />
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It was epic, of course. Miss alternates between enlisting her sister in the roles of "Monster," "Evil Queen," and "Prince Charming." Lass plays along happily. It's so fun to watch.<br />
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Last night I think my husband and I finally reached real "grown up" status. We had a grown up night and play date in <i>one</i>. It was awesome. Our friends came over with their three kids, my husband cooked ribs, the kids played, no one got hurt or threw a tantrum, my friend and I chased kids around and had a some great grown up conversation (as only moms can do while managing five kids running and climbing all over and one newborn), and our husbands consumed a couple of grown up beverages while talking about manly things and occasionally bouncing a baby. Good food and good company led to a supremely enjoyable evening.<br />
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The four oldest kids all crammed into our tiny sandbox. This thing was the entertainment hit of the evening. They all played in there, even dumping sand over each others' heads, and never once was there an argument amongst them.<br />
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It was beautiful.<br />
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This little munchkin was the star of the show. She loves to be outside, and she rocked the bouncy seat when she wasn't eating or napping in her swing inside. A good time was had by all.<br />
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Today we're having a lazy Sunday at home. The big girls are outside playing with their daddy. Our garden is starting to produce a few items ready to be eaten (radishes and lettuce). We have lots of leftovers from dinner last night, so I won't have to cook. This is the life. Happy weekend to you.Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-84013627789364290742012-05-18T22:48:00.000-05:002012-05-18T22:48:11.876-05:00An Anniversary Post<br />
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I had a date night with my hubby tonight for our anniversary, which was yesterday, but he has been working nights this week and just finished up this morning. So, date night tonight. It was fabulous. First night out since Sis's arrival BTW, and all went perfectly (I will never again underestimate the beauty of having a baby who will drink from a bottle). Four years of wedded bliss with my BFF, my soul mate, the man of my dreams... It's late and I have had a glass of wine, so I don't really have it in me to do an original anniversary post tonight. But I like the one from last year. It sums up my feelings for my hubby nicely, so here you go. Good night!</div>
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Three years ago today, I married the man of my dreams. I know. Saying "the man of my dreams" is totally cliche. However, I think the reason many phrases become cliche is that they are so true. My husband really <i>is</i> the man of my dreams. Before I met him, if I thought of the kind of person I wanted to, or <i>dreamed</i> of, spending my life with, I would have described him. Handsome. Intelligent. Funny. Considerate. Hard-working. <i>Sans</i> piercings... You name it. If I once wished for a quality in a potential mate, he has it. And then some.</div>
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Another way I could describe my husband is to say that he is my soul mate. All right. Another cliche. But it's <i>true</i>! The man could have been created especially for me. He <i>gets</i> me. We're a great team. He completes me. Oops! There's another one :)</div>
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Okay, how about this? My hubby is my best friend. My BFF. Cliche? Maybe. But also true. I would rather spend time with him than anyone else. I love to spend time chatting with him about all sorts of things. I also just love to be in the same room with him even if we're not talking. He could be working on his computer and I might be reading, and I will always choose to read my book in the same room as him just to be near him.</div>
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He is the person I look forward to waking up with every morning. He is my partner in all things. He makes me laugh. He does the dishes while I put the girls to bed. He encourages me to pursue my interests, like book clubs and cooking classes. He lets me know in many ways how much he appreciates me. He does fun things with me like our "Chopped" at home adventure. We share the same values. He loves me and respects me and takes care of me. He is a wonderful dad to our girls.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRT2Q6mw8m5lN71ARYfuarXfOdXWVBJS_Bv4jgaczoOCCbNDB5UkDA69qtizWwdEp04boNa9EeV1IFL9k9PPoEn5lylOD9SeRtDcidS0G-xIILVAPOo1bW7NaHSiek-Qdx_qmuRAqaCQ/s1600/DSC_0287.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607147249396637522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRT2Q6mw8m5lN71ARYfuarXfOdXWVBJS_Bv4jgaczoOCCbNDB5UkDA69qtizWwdEp04boNa9EeV1IFL9k9PPoEn5lylOD9SeRtDcidS0G-xIILVAPOo1bW7NaHSiek-Qdx_qmuRAqaCQ/s320/DSC_0287.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a>Here's to three years of wedded bliss, harmonious matrimony, living real life every day with the man of my dreams. My soul mate. My best friend. My husband is all these things. Truly. Cliche or not. He floats my boat. Lights my fire. Trips my trigger. Yep. I love him.</div>Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-23335900731412771122012-05-12T22:44:00.000-05:002012-05-12T22:44:03.751-05:00Lessons on Bargain Shopping<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yard sale season is upon us. Oh, how I love yard sales (or rummage sales as they're called around here). I used to wake up early nearly every Saturday in graduate school with my sales already marked on my laminated city map and cruise around Louisville finding treasures galore. I furnished my first apartment almost exclusively with yard sale finds. It makes me almost giddy just thinking about it.</div>
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Since having kids I haven't gone yard-sale-ing as much. Mostly because I just don't relish the idea of driving around town, finding a sale, getting the kids out for a quick look, strapping them back into their car seats, and repeating this over and over. Because of course many yard sales only warrant a quick glance and on to the next. Not fun when you have to drive to get from one to the next with three small children. </div>
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This weekend there was a big annual neighborhood sale that I have been wanting to go to. I am all about being able to park the car once and walk to lots of sales in a short distance. I have heard good things about this particular neighborhood sale. I have been itching to go to it so much that I actually considered trying to get up extra early and hit the sales before going to our play date yesterday morning, knowing that all the best stuff would probably be gone by today. I quickly discarded that idea as completely insane, but I couldn't help but feel all antsy about getting to the sales this morning. When we did get there late this morning, it was wonderful. Big girls in the wagon, Baby Sis in my wrap, and we were all set to shop. </div>
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It was awesome.<br />
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I <i>love</i> finding bargains. But I think this time I loved teaching Miss and Lass what a "bargain" is even more than the bargains themselves. We found one sale where they had lots of Little Mermaid books. Very nice hardcover books that were like new (Miss is holding one in the photo below) for 50 cents each. I grabbed up the books, gave each girl a dollar, and told them they could each pick two books. The lady running the sale said, "They can have three for a dollar." Naturally, I said, "What a bargain!" and proceeded to try to explain to Miss why this was so. She wasn't really listening, because she was carefully going through each of the books to choose her three (which she has been "reading" nonstop and she is sleeping with tonight, BTW), but I was excited to tell her anyway. I loved watching her select her books, take them to the lady with her dollar and shyly give her the money with a quiet, "Thank you" and a little sideways grin.<br />
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Later on I happened to find myself at a sale being run by two ladies in my book club. They commented on how quietly and peacefully my girls were riding in their wagon. Thank you Little Mermaid books. <br />
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One of my friends was selling Candy Land and Memory games, in great condition, for 50 cents each. Score.<br />
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Miss and I played a game tonight before bed. She kicked my butt.<br />
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I'm looking forward to many years of bargain shopping with my girls. Next lesson? I'm teaching them how to haggle...Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6952138239216455172.post-2959599928993791802012-05-11T22:50:00.000-05:002012-05-11T22:51:04.496-05:00La La La<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A few weeks ago I posted <a href="http://motherhoodandmiscellany.blogspot.com/2012/04/song-bird.html">this entry</a> about how much we all love to sing at our house, and included a video of Miss singing "Whistle While You Work." I still watch that video from time to time because it makes me chuckle. </div>
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I mentioned in that post that Lass also loves to sing, though of course she can't quite do all the words to the songs like Miss can yet. Tonight my husband captured Lass singing on video. One of Miss's favorite songs to sing, besides "Whistle While You Work" is the theme from the new Care Bears movies. She sings it loud and proud, "We are Care Bears, La La La-la-la!" She sings this so often that Lass's original word for "Care Bears" was "La-la." Now Lass can sing the La-la song herself. Check it out.</div>
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Have a great weekend. La La La.Amy @ Motherhood and Miscellanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15707360613812044242noreply@blogger.com0