Mom-isms

I have a journal that houses the best tidbits of my childrens' childhoods. All of the sweetest and most hilarious things they've said and done is recorded in there for me to love over at a later date in time. Some of my favorites:

"I'll have a chocolate without steam please." (Aidyn, overheard "ordering" in his room)

"That's my arm knee." (Aidyn, on his elbow)

"I smell like a doughnut!" (Aidyn)

"Ely fell and hurt her brains." (Aidyn, said unconcernedly from one chair while Ely lay screaming beside the other she had just fallen off)

I realize those are all Aidyn's. Ely is just coming into her vocal own and I'm sure soon hers will be overtaking her brothers, but at this point, as I look back through the pages, I'm giggling at Aidyn's unintentional wit.

As I was adding one to the list this afternoon (when Ely unloaded the contents of a couch cushion in her room and then sat in the middle of the giant pile of white fluff so she could play "bubble bath"), I started thinking about the funny things that have come out of my mouth that I should be recording. You know, the things that you just don't get until you're a mom. The things that would stop a passerby on my sidewalk should they waft through an open window. For instance:

"No, we do not put the cat in the dryer! Or the toilet!"

"I swear the next person that says penis is going in timeout for an hour!"

"Do not drink your bathwater! That's like licking a butt!"

"If I say it has germs it does!"

"Just brush it off, you won't even taste the dirt."

"I know you like all the pinecones, but only one gets to go live with us."

"Sometimes we just need to pee outside."

"Because people don't like your feet in their face, that's why."

"We don't talk about boobs in front of other people."

To all you moms who understood that perfectly without having been there, cheers. :)

Bump-bum-bum-ba!

This is the official post to announce that tomorrow I will actually be making a post. I've decided that by the simple act of writing it out and committing, perhaps I will follow through on this good intention as I've meant to so often the past month. There will be pictures of the tiny moments that have made me smile, tons of details on family and business, and of course, that quirky personality you've grown used to weaving its way in and out of it all. Until then!

A New Dawn

This morning, as I watched the 44th president of the United States of America being sworn in, my heart swelled with pride. Pride in a nation that was willing to cross boundaries never thought possible to achieve the best. A nation that is standing up and moving on, ready to face the obstacles that are ahead of us.

For the first time in a long time I feel hope. I'm hopeful that our country will recover. So much has happened in the last several years, and the last year has felt like one batch of bad news after the other. When you're waking up in the same nightmare day after day it becomes hard to hope that someday there will be a better way and a brighter future. Listening to his conviction and measure of dedication to working towards that better tomorrow makes me believe that it can be done, despite the obscene amount of hurdles in the way.

And finally, I was inspired. The American people have been at odds with their neighbors and their world for far too long, feeling their voice doesn't count and that the odds are too insurmountable to be bothered with. Today a nation crowded into our capitol and congregated around their televisions as one, ready to watch history in the making and witness the start of something new.

My kids are too young to remember this at all, but someday I will tell them about the day that boundaries were crossed and a country came alive again. I will recall the tears in peoples' eyes, the way a nation opened its heart and mind, and how in that moment we began the journey once again to become one nation, under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all. Because YES, WE CAN!

Yarn Whispering

I read a post on one of my absolute favorite blogs, Three Irish Girls, about how, if you let it and are so inclined, yarn can speak to you. That it may have wants and wishes of its own completely unrelated to your agenda. After wrestling with a certain skein through the entire holiday season this made a modicum of sense to me, so I decided to give it a try. When I was explaining to Evan that I intended to get in touch with my yarn he adopted the same look he wore when I told him that I was pimping out my van with zebra pillows - slightly incredulous barely veiled behind a hint of laughter. Undeterred, I sat down with said skein, part still knitted into the intended cabled wrist warmer I last saw when I threw it down in frustration and stormed off. It's a beautiful yarn, a cotton and silk blend in a dark, dewy purple that shines when the light hits it. With only slight hesitation, I started my experiment.




I'll spare you the rather lengthy conversation in its entirety, however. I began by apologizing to yarn for having not asked it's opinion in the first place, to which it remained quiet. The Yarnista told me to expect this, that yarn is quite as rebellious as a teenage boy at times, so I plowed on undeterred, asking yarn why it had so rejected the beautiful bag done in lace that I had originally intended it for. After a little cajoling yarn explained that she didn't fancy being a bag, especially a dainty lace one, and wanted no part in carrying around my collection of lipglosses.

I pondered a moment here as I realized perhaps yarn was right. After all, my current bag is roughly the size of volvo; how I could have expected the variety of mish mash I carry around with me to fit into such a small and delicate bag makes me wonder if that was the same day I left my phone in the rice cooker. Obviously, my judgement could have been a little off.

I admitted yarn was right, to which she looked a little too smug and fired off some choice comments that I chose to ignore.

My next line of questioning was what objection she had to the beautiful cabled wristwarmers, whose pattern I found after an extensive search of Ravelry, and why she hindered me every step of the way. Apparently the cables weren't the problem, rather that she believed herself too good to be a seasonal object that would end up in the back of the hall closet for half the year, likely losing her mate in the process. Again, perfect sense. And very true, she really is a beautiful yarn.

And so, finally, I asked yarn for her preference of projects. She requested something that would show off her gorgeous sheen, perhaps something that would keep the lovely cables. I let her think for awhile before she decided she needed time to decide, and also requested that she not be put back in the yarn basket, but on the bowl on my desk with my beloved handspuns, as she believed herself better than the common yarn in the wicker basket below.

*******************************************

I did move it to the bowl. This particular yarn, though a little more demanding than I'd prefer, has certain qualities that remind me of myself, and far be it from me to stifle a kindred spirit. Perhaps in the sunlight, surrounded by bright handspuns, yarn will find it's way and help me create something we'll both be pleased with.

A little while later I picked up the skein of humble Purewool slated to become a pair of shorties for a customer. After the rather lengthy debate with the first yarn, I was a little hesitant to even ask, but....

I explained to yarn that he would become a pair of shorties for a little girl who would love him, but that the job wouldn't always be easy as he was stretched and played in and enjoyed. It assured me in an easy manner that it wouldn't mind that, and if that made me happy that he would be happy as well. He then suggested that I use a size 8, which of course, was an excellent idea.

This skein, quiet but kind, begins to remind me a bit of Evan.

Yarn and I begin our journey; the waistband shapes up nicely and before I know it I'm starting on the body. At this point, however, Bean wakes up and begins to cry. I start to lay my project down on the table beside me, reconsider, and move it to my bed. I have a sense this yarn would prefer the quiet comfort of my room, ready to be picked up at the end of a long day and enjoyed.

*******************************************

I think I made headway today with some of my yarn, only time will tell how much fight the rest have in them. I'm going to have to watch that blue handspun still on my wheel though; I swear I hear it snickering already.....

Gratefulness

:the scent of vanilla and orange as i clean:

:soft wool:

:the warm feeling a cold day gives me:

:clean sheets:

:steaming coffe:

:happy little voices:

:my green pen:

:bella snores:

:the last moments i'll spend with my one year old baby:

but

:the anticipation of many moments spent with my two year old girl:

Must Raves!

Some things from my week that I loved so much I had to rave about them:

1. The new line of bags we're selling exclusively from a local designer who has become extremely popular in recent months. We met Alicia of A. Girl bags at the Latah Creek Fair and hit it off. She liked what we were doing so much she decided that instead of opening her own website, which was her plan, she would retail through us. And, even better, she's designing a diaper bag to go with her regular line that will include a changing pad and small mama clutch! She uses the Amy Butler fabrics for everything she does, and she's absolutely brilliant!

2. My new cleaning products! Tired of the smell of vinegar while I was cleaning, but unwilling to go back to chemical laden store varieties, I invested into the cleaning products of a local company (also at the fair), Maid Naturally. All natural ingredients that clean just as well, at the same price, but smell so good you almost want to eat them! Even better is that they are marketed as a "spa treatment" for your home, and named as such! My favorite is the Aromatherapy Cleanser (an all purpose cleaner) in Clary Sage and Vanilla, followed closely by their Mint Glass Toner (for glass and mirrors) and Massage Oil (for stainless steel, leather, and wood) in Lavender and Vanilla. My home has never smelled so sweet! I went from charmed to completely sold when their Citrus Home Exfoliator took off the burn rings on my glass stove top that even the famed magic erasers had left behind. Warning: I threw away my mop because it smells so good I intend to hand wash my floors from now on. Yes, it's that good.

3. The harvest coming in from our garden. Many peas and beans, bags of zucchini, and several carrots, like this little guy, are making their way from the dirt into the sweet little hands and mouths of Sharkbait and the Bean, who have a whole new outlook on where the food they eat is coming from.

4. Ravelry! It's a knit community online that, right now at least, must be joined by invitation. I signed up ages ago and forgot about it, then meandered over a few weeks ago to check what was taking so long and found out my invitation was sent months ago and went to my junk folder. Oh the lost months! Well, I'm on now and making up for lost time! It's so amazing to find people who share my obsession with their needles!

5. My husband. He watched our kids both days last weekend while mommy worked, cleaned up numerous times (including a heaping sink of dishes that I was dreading touching), and even cooked his yummy friend rice for dinner once! Even better, he stood up to his family in a matter that has been tearing us all apart lately and pretty much singlehandly, through a great deal of pain and negativity, brought his family back together again to face their problems together anew. I've never been prouder than I was watching the man, who still seems so much a boy to me, face the accusations and anger of his entire family calmly and without excuse, and come out on top with a new respect from them...and me.

A Rainy Morning

I love the rain. Night before last we had a thunderstorm, one of the dry, wind whipping ones that gives you a charge as you see the huge streaks of lightening and hear the crack and rumble of the answering thunder. The clouds that have been threatening since then finally broke this morning and the rain is drizzling down. There's a happy sadness to rain that I adore. On days like today I feel a sort of melancholy, a mellow and reflective mood that somehow also fills me with joy as I look forward to cuddling up with a big mug of tea and my knitting, and sharing time wrapped in a blanket with two warm little bodies while we read Aidyn's dinosaur book for what must be the 1,762nd time. Today has me looking at the calendar and realizing in shock that the summer is drawing to a close again.

I can't really say which season is my favorite. I love both spring and fall equally I think, because they both hold promise. Spring means new life, fresh earth, and warmth as the sun chases the last of winter away. But fall holds a different kind of promise that is so enticing to me. We move past the too hot days and humid nights, past pool parties and BBQs and mowing the lawn into something much more reserved and peaceful. To me, fall promises a break from the full swing of summer, a time to rest, a time to cuddle, and a time to savor the fruits of the spring. Around this time of year I begin my fall cleaning, readying our home for a long winter indoors. Soon the flowerbeds will be cleaned out and bedded down for the impending winter, and the last of my garden's produce will be taken in. The leaves that have already begun to turn yellow will lay in a carpet on the ground, and in no time at all, we'll be waking up to frost on the ground.

I love that my walks in the neighborhood with the kids will see us returning with hands full of the treasures that fall leaves strewn on the ground - gold and brown leaves, little rocks and sticks, and acorn caps. I love that I will be able to pull out my sweaters and jeans, and leave blankets here and there around the house ready to be cuddled in at a moment's notice. We'll be able to journey to our nearby farming community and join in the harvest festivals, enjoying caramel apples and steaming mugs of cider while stocking up on squash and potatoes and onions and corn and choosing pumpkins for carving. Our home will come alive with fall colors and the decorations that precede the holiday season.

What I love most is that fall, even as it dims a bright summer, makes everything so much more clear and crisp. The blankets in the morning seem that much more cozy, and it's a glorious feeling to wake up in a warm cocoon and burrow in a little deeper for just a few more minutes. The coffee in the morning tastes even better, and the casseroles and stews that roll out of my kitchen as I start using my oven again even richer. Family comes to the forefront as I begin creating and scheming for the holidays, and love seems closer as more time is spent together indoors.

Winter seems to last so long, summer is a blur of color of fun, and spring brings new starts and a fresh breath. Fall is subtle, bringing deep colors and heady flavors, and allowing us to step back and slow down. It's a different kind of joy than the others, but a complete and utter contentment kind of joy that I just can't get enough of.

That Achaan Chaa Knows What's Up

Last night I was feeling a little down and so I poured myself a bath full of bubbles and a cup of my favorite white tea, and sunk down to enjoy a few minutes to myself reading my latest parenting magazine. I know, even in my "me" time, still the mommy.

Amidst the articles on getting your toddler to behave (right) and how to keep your house free of clutter (eye roll), my eye was suddenly caught by an anecdote from a mom that merited more than the perfunctory gaze before moving on. The woman who told the story had become obsessed with organization since having children, namely with their toys. She couldn't stand the thought of having mixed pieces of toy sets, and so every night she sorted through every block and puzzle, all the toy sets and put each where it belonged. She went on in this manner, driving herself near crazy as her kids accumulated even more sets of toys, until the day her sun was allowed to pick out his first toy. She tried to steer him to balls and books and toys that didn't come with 101 pieces, but in the end he settled on a Sesame Street camper, complete with small figurines, a campfire, tent, and various other small parts. At first, she tried to keep it together, barking every time it was out that it was to be kept downstairs, rushing around picking up parts and putting it away almost as soon as her son got it out. Then she realized that she would eventually have to cook dinner, do laundry, and a host of other things, and would have to let him play with it unsupervised, and it would most likely get broken and pieces would become lost.

That night, for the first time, she offered her usual "lose this and be sorry" warning, and allowed him to take it where he would. She watched as he took the Cookie Monster part of the camper and carried it upstairs to his room, where it joined some other Cookie Monster friends. Then he took the camper part and used it to shuttle his Elmo to an Applebee's he built of blocks. As she stood there, she realized that while the thing was "no longer a set in the way we might conventionally use that term, its various pieces were all somehow deployed into service where they belonged."

She then quoted a parable, a very lovely parable from a zen master, Achaan Chaa. One day Achaan Chaa was asked by a student how he could remain at peace in a world that lacked any permanence. He held up the glass in his hand and said, "For me, this glass is already broken. I enjoy it; I drink out of it. But when I put this glass on a shelf and my elbow brushes it and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say 'Of course'. When I understand that this glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious."

She came to understand that "that plastic cookie monster probably belonged in Coby's room even before it came out of the factory. That puzzle piece is lost before you tear off the shrink wrap, and the action figure is down the toilet or lost under the ficus even before you've paid for it. Maybe the best thing for compulsively ordered mamas like myself would be to once in a while take the whole darn camper and hurl it against the living room wall, recognizing that it's already broken and that every moment your child interacts with it, making sense of it in his own, albeit incomprehensible, way is precious."

The even harder lesson, she realized, was that it was "likely the thing I'm trying to sort, catalog, organize, and preserve for all eternity is not so much their stuff as their lives." The thing that was already broken, or more correctly, changing was their childhood, and that like the plastic toys and their million pieces that plagued her, they were moving on, growing into what they were meant to be and do.

Ely's room holds a kitchen complete with 42 pieces of food and dishes. I know this because I am obsessed with hunting down all 42 of those pieces and getting them back into the bin with it's faux wicker sticker that sits in the little kitchen. There is also an ABC animal play mat, with an animal for every letter, a zookeeper, a car for the zookeeper, and two minuscule food bins for the animals. Needless to say, another of my downfalls, and many hours spent digging under beds and in drawers for the lost seal and wayward flamingo. In my son's room are train tracks, some of a plastic set, and others of a wood set. In my opinion, plastic should be stored in the vintage 7-Up bin, wood in the drawer of the table they came with. Aidyn thinks the engines of both should be stored in his car drawer (which I probably shouldn't even start in on because I don't feel like a migraine this early in the morning), and both sets should be scattered together haphazardly around his room, with an array of different dinosaur sets mixed in for good measure.

I copied that parable out of the magazine last night and it is perched right now in front of me on my keyboard. I thought about it this morning and as I went through my morning motions, I looked at my home in a different light. In Ely's room, there is a doll in the sink and no sign of food anywhere. The small plastic pieces of bread and vegetables are over by the animals, minus one piece of chicken my daughter fed to the dog and ended up as plastic shards around my kitchen. Aidyn's room is a time and a place not seen before, where cars ride plastic and wood tracks without discrimination, and dinosaurs and cowboys work mutually to build a racetrack for train engines. Normally this is where the migraine would start, but I turned my mind around it and came up with a different scenario. The doll is in the sink is, of course, receiving a bath. The animals seem to be having a party, and one does need food for a grand event such as this. The chicken that is now in the garbage can was a gift of love from Ely to Bella, and who can fault her brilliance in putting together that mommy feeds Bella chicken every morning and out of all the pieces of food, she chose the chicken. Aidyn is simply showing his imagination, not letting the limitations of this world set any on his mind, and proving that seemingly incompatible characters do quite well in their mutual endeavors.

Further, in my grasping efforts to keep their toys and them contained in these perfect sets, trying vainly to make sense of the scattering and the growing, I am losing something precious. I am missing this small portion of their lives that, while a jumble and not always pleasant, can't be ordered and shouldn't be. I won't be able to keep those sets of toys together and contained the same way that I won't be able to manage every second of their lives in a way that keeps pain and sadness at bay and ensures a life of order, free of mess. In the same way the toys were meant to be scattered and that chicken was Bella's five minutes of chewing heaven, my kids will grow up, move on into the people they are meant to become, and choose their own paths that will probably have detours and disasters. And suddenly, I think I can grasp that and even be okay with it.

Now I'm off to enjoy the land of the dinosaurs and trains, get involved in that animal party, and maybe throw a few sets of perfectly ordered toys against a wall...

Adventures in the Garden

:aerial cantaloupes:

:barely contained:

:orange about to explode:

:towering tomato trees:

:graceful white flowers:

:a jungle from below:

It's June, and It's Snowing

I think of flowers and barbeques, shorts and sunshine when I think of June. All I'm thinking of right now is hot tea, a warm blanket, and a cheery fire. I have two of the three, so we're doing pretty good here today.

I signed on today hoping some shred of inspiration would turn this into a thoughtful, well voiced post of some relevance. Instead I just keep thinking that I should be doing the dishes, or folding some laundry, or perhaps even knitting another pair of longies out of the skeins of wool that piled up in my knitting basket. I know at the very least I should pick up the numerous blankets and pillows still scattered in the living room from yesterday's fort building extravaganza.

The truth is, I have niether the inspiration, focus, or drive for any of those things. The rain seems to turn a switch inside of me; I feel a sort of peaceful melancholy that lacks any real truth but simply turns me inward, in thought and action. I ponder the world and its sad state, I think of the small sweet nothings of the past that can never be again, and I mull words and situations over in my head without my usual push toward a solution.

And so, today will be a simple hello from the depths of my mind. Hello, dear friends. I hope that whatever the world looks like outside of your window, you are enjoying the same peace, thinking only of those things that bring you joy, and of course, allowing yourself a moment to breathe.

Caught Up!

Alright. The vacation is over. The catch up that inevitably must happen after every vacation is done. My brain is rested. And so, back to the keyboard!

Our vacation was, well, nice. I forget just how beautiful Montana is this time of year, green and new and fresh. My family enjoyed the time with my kiddos, and my kiddos enjoyed the attention lavished upon them with exquisite detail. Bean had her grandpa James wrapped securely around her little fingers and Mr. Gray spent every available moment with his uncle Jeremiah. Evan and I were able to sleep in a bit, spend time doing nothing more than cuddling and reading a good novel, and even had a night to ourselves that we spent in the company of some old friends. I knitted a beanie and a pair of adorable shorties for Aidyn, and read about 8 romance novels. Evan was happy just to sleep and play some paintball with his male in-laws. Bella had a rousing time with her Montana cousins, my mom's 7 month old golden retriever Tucker, and her timid little spaniel Freedom. She couldn't make up her mind if she wanted to play or be a big tough girl, but in the end they got along well enough. It was a rather wierd feeling to sleep in my old bedroom that still sports a lovely rose pink carpet, I felt like a little girl again. Teehee, teehee.

We returned to our house in good spirits, after a nine hour drive in the dead of night made to avoid the whining tantrums of kids who have been in a car all day. They slept peacefully for the last six or so hours. We passed about 32 dear on the way home, all through Idaho. Go figure. The next day was spent unpacking, putting laundry away, and going through the stack of mail that filled my table. And that about sums up the 11 after May 16.

Since then....

We spent an entire Saturday cleaning up the debris that comes along with a major construstion project in the backyard. When it was done I planted a garden full of peas, carrots, onions, zucchini, cucumbers, beans and cantelope, followed by a few pots of tomatoes and peppers and one of chives. Over fifty more plants made it into my flower beds, a mix of hosta, lilies, walk-on-me, and red sedum. Finally, I dug out the bare spot by the patio where grass apparently cannot grow, though not for our lack of trying, and put down a total of 95 red concrete pavers in a haphazardous pattern. I finished the spot with a few chairs and some pots and voila! An extension of the porch and a perfect sunny place for sitting and admiring my container flowers, and goodbye disgusting bald patch of yard.

This weekend the electric is going into the garage, one more check on the never ending list. It's so nice being able to pull into my own garage and not have to park on the curb where people like Evan's aunt will pull a hit and run on you (long story, but yes, it's true). And the best part is wonder van has a built in button that is programmed to my garage door, so I don't even have to carry a remote, leaving an extra to give to someone in the chance that Evan's is lost or for some reason we lock ourselves out.

Bella is growing at a remarkable pace, filling out in the shoulders and getting that big, bristly bully look. She's a huge sweetheart, albeit a little smelly. Last night she finally learned she was big enough to jump up into mommy and daddy's bed, and she's been doing it all day. Speaking of the mommy daddy bed, Aidyn is going through a phase that has him running into our room sometime in the night and bounding into Evan's side of the bed to sleep for the remainder. I think Evan secretly enjoys having his firstborn cuddling so sweetly beside him. He's also hit a phase of girliness. He's obsessed with my shoes, and keeps telling us he is a pretty princess. This morning he spent 15 minutes before we woke up experimenting with my makeup. Kids, you gotta love them. And Ely is, well, Ely. She has perfected the art of the perfect tantrum, and is now working on a pouty face that does a basset hound proud.

I had a doctor's appointment the day after we returned (I suppose this actually belongs in the 11 days after part). After an entire rundown of bloodwork and a complete (and I mean complete) physical, she concluded I was in perfect health, with all tests within normal range. There was just the little problem of my toes being blue all the time and beginning to become dry little stubs. Dying in other words. After consulting, I was told that since we can't find a cause we better just treat the symptom or else I would risk permanent nerve damage in my feet. More acurately, I already have nerve damage, and we needed to stop the progression. And so she prescribed a heart medication for blood pressure, a calcium channel blocker called Procardia that is supposed to open my veins and put the oxygen back in my toes. I hear oxygen is important to us mortal beings. Anyway, I am two days into that, and while the blue is subsiding, I now have to deal with muscle cramping and pins and needle sensations in my toes. I think they've forgotten what that good 'ol element O feels like. And my legs could do without the cramping and the slight swelling that they're experiencing, but I'm hoping once my body adjusts to the meds, it will return to some semblance of normal. I also started Lamictal, an epilepsy medication that also has uses for bipolar II. It will take a month or two to start noticing any real difference, but I'm holding out hope that someday soon, I will be able to feel a normal range of emotion without the extremes.

Levi and Dani are planning on moving out within the next few weeks, which means I can slowly begin to remodel the basement domain that they've occupied for the last year. I'm turning it into a family room, complete with Evan's weight set, a play area for the kids, a workspace for myself, and a pirate bar. Yes, I said it, pirate. I'll post as I get closer and it will become more understandable. I also plan on rejuvenating my laundry room into an area that will make me want to do my laundry......rriiiiiggghhhhhtttt.

Alright, that's about it. I'm sorry for such a long lapse in my writing, but I trust this finds you all well and happy. Caio.

Consider It a Postcard

Just a note, as I failed to mention it before (I am such a jerk sometimes) - I am in Montana enjoying 10 days with my family and as such, am finding little time to be around a computer. I promise a post filled with pictures and stories upon my return home, but bear with me in the meantime. I've been getting emails and comments (you know who you are!) about my lack of bloggy love lately, but I'm hoping that this trip will clear the cobwebs of garage building, physical and emotional ailments, and plain overwork from my mind and allow me to return refreshed and ready to tackle all those projects, including my little blog, that I love but have neglected of late.



Until then...

Wait for it......

This is going to be the most random post ever, with the events and tidbits that have happened of late.

First of all, the van is in my possesion. The accessories are awesome, and I even like driving it. Go figure. It's easier to park and backup than the truck, and definately handles nicer.

WalMart are jerks. I ordered a dual screen dvd player for the trip on May 1st, selected free site to store shipping, which takes 7-10 days, and signed on day before yesterday to discover the estimated shipping date to be May 19th...three days after we leave. I wrote a well worded email describing the situation, and received an automated response with the same information found on their help page. Like I hadn't already looked there.

The garage...is....finished. Well, except the parts we have no control over, namely, hanging the overhead door and installing electricity. That will wait until we get back from the Tana.

Speaking of the home of my birth, we will be departing in one week and two days to spend a glorious 10 days away from "it all".

I love cookie dough ice cream.

Bella the bulldog got a lovely bath this morning, complete with a nailtrim, ear cleaning, and toe nail polishing. Simply because I can, why else?

Ely and Aidyn are supposed to be napping, but instead are both crooning unintelligible songs from their respective rooms.

And that's about all I have right now, because the couch, a pint of cookie dough ice cream, and a John Wayne flick are calling my name. I love this job *sigh*.

Soup of the Day

Nothing deep or even remotely interesting today, to tell the truth, but I shall post anyway, as I was reminded yesterday that it has been too long.

The garage is still not finished. Big surprise. Actually, it's coming along and should be completed (minus electrical) by this weekend. Our concrete pour is scheduled for 7AM on Saturday, so I am super excited about that. The siding has been going up a little at a time during the evenings, I myself nailed up some J-metal on Tuesday night. By this time next week, we should have the inspection done and hopefully, even have the guys out to install the overhead door! Tonight I plan on digging holes for our fence so that they can pour concrete into those at the same time.

Of course, the fence will be put on hold for a few weeks while we visit the family in Montana. We're leaving in two weeks and one day, and then I'll have a whole ten days of family time. The kids are so excited, Aidyn keeps talking about how he's going to play with his uncle Jeremiah. (Side note, the Bean just climbed me like ladder and is now wrapped around my head watching TV over my shoulder). And on this oh-so-spectacular trip, we will have a new ride.

Yes, you heard me. It's true, I succumbed to the van. I actually read a very enlightening article about how SUVs have become so commonplace, the new "soccer mom" vehicle of choice, that vans are suddenly ahead of the curve, out of the norm, and, dare I say it, cool. Just let me dream, people, let me dream. And so, for the first time, the Stillar family will roadtrip to their roots in the style and comfort of the Honda Odyssey, which has already been dubbed, fondly I think, The Box.

Other tidbits of this week:

1. Bella now firmly knows how to sit at attention with a piece of food hovering directly on her nose until given the command to go ahead and eat it. Pretty cool, in my opinion, but then again, I'm the one that taught her.

2. There is a vase of branches from my little tree out front being forced out of winter hibernation to lend their bright red spring feel to my front room. They are already opening!

3. Sharkbait has been drawing pictures that actually form an organized picture. He drew a duck, a boat, and yesterday, a bus, complete with wheels, window, and a ladder. Yes, a ladder.

4. Bean is laying on the floor with her brother's undies on wiggling around to a reggae sounding beat coming from the TV. Just as a note of interest. The girl cracks me up.

5. I went shopping and found the coolest pair of wicked awesome shorts I've ever seen. Evan says they look like I'm heading off to golf. I think he's jealous.

And that about sums it up. Except of course, for my latest going green efforts, which I plan on posting at a later date, hopefully soon. Until then, friends and readers....

Soccer Moms

This is story about a girl and her ride, and the family politics that come into play when she decides it's not working for her anymore. I drive a 2003 Toyota Tundra that was given to us generously by my husband's grandpa last year. It's fun, it has tons of space to haul stuff, and is, of course, seriously nice. However, I've discovered that driving a truck comes with certain disadvantages.

1. Carseats and growing children don't fit easily into the back seat. Aidyn's legs now seem to be locked in a permanent wrestling match with the passenger seat, even when it's at the very frontest position (yes, I'm aware frontest isn't a word).

2. All of the gear I had taken for granted leaving in the back of my SUV (a stroller, sling, change of clothes, dead midget hooker) doesn't do so well being left in the back of an uncovered truck. I had to start unloading the stroller every trip so that it wouldn't get wet or stolen, and I can't tell you how many times we've forgotten to bring it in and thus, it's gotten wet, or how many more times I've went to go somewhere and realized I forgot the stroller again.

3. It's pretty environmentally unfriendly, which isn't working for me. The EPA scores my particular truck at a 1, on a scale of 0-10, 10 being best. Yikes! It's a gas hog and has more emissions than my husband after a protien shake.

And so, I did some research, did some more research, test drove a few models, and did some more research. After testing some hybrids and realizing that they can actually be more expensive to drive in some instances, I gave up my dream of owning a Toyota Prius (not to mention, who could actually fit anything in that boot?). I finally settled on the unassuming, decent gas mileage, good family carish Nissan Sentra. Once all figures were calculated (car payments, insurance, gas annually) it turned out that even adding a car payment, the Sentra, brand new, would be cheaper to drive.

And so, on to the last order of business, explaining our situation to grandpa and asking if it would be completely ungrateful wretchish of us to trade in such a nice present for something that was more workable for our family. I guess I assumed that all would work out, and after he understood the current problems, would understand and let us find something better for our family. What I forgot about was grandpa's ability and drive to find answers for all the world's problems and therefore, shoot our plans right out of the water.

After a conversation, grandpa had a think on it and returned his verdict. The truck was going nowhere, because he didn't want it leaving the family. That being said (I'm quoting that), he had three options for us.

1. Keep the truck and deal!
2. Swap the truck for grandma's 2006 Honda Odyssey, and then grandma would swap auntie for her 2003 Toyota Camry.
3. Swap auntie for the Camry and drive that instead.

In this way no one incurs payments and the truck stays in the family to be used for various family matters. Apparently, grandma really dislikes her van, and has always wanted the Camry back, so they're lobbying for me to take the van, which really leaves me two choices, the van or the truck.

I know that the van holds the answers to 2 of three problems, which both are about good, usable space. Neither option is very earth friendly, so to speak, and so I'm going to have to forgo my feelings about that. The van would be plenty of space, last for years to come, and I know, it's a great solution. The problem? It's just not me. The truck makes me feel, excuse me, but bad ass. I'm from Montana, truckland. The truck is my roots and I've always felt such driving it. The van is foreign territory, the land of carpools and WalMart and grown-uphood. I don't care how hip those Honda commercials try to make it, the Odyssey is still a van, and vans, in my mind, have always been...well, vans. 'Nuf said.

I know this is a selfish debate, take the car that is actually nicer and holds the key to so many problems, or keep what I perceive as the hipper option and continue suffering. If you're reading this, comment, give me some sanity and perspective. I already know the only good answer, I just don't want to accept it. Expect an update when the final decision is made, and thanks for listening to my selfish banter. I just need to add an "ugh", for posterity and because ugh happens to be a fix all, I think. I feel better already actually.

Ugh.

When Words Become Superfluous...

For some reason this morning I was thinking of songs, and the way I seem to remember the seasons of my life through the lyrics. Each event, each person, each memory has a stanza, a song, a tune attached. My best friend Charley Jean, who was kind enough to share her name with my daughter, will forever be remembered in the sweet lines of John Mayer's "Not Myself", the simple notes of Dan Seal's "One Friend", and the fun bounce of LFO's "Every Other Time". I still think of my first "real" serious relationship and my senior prom when I hear Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight". For a few moments I remember the tingly sensation of being young and carried away. 50 Cent brings back fond memories of a summer long ago, Bush reminds me of living with my brother, and the strains of my grandma's favorite hymns fill my mind with the familiar clean smell of her house and the pain on my mother's face as she sang them at my father's funeral with the congregation. There's a certain nostalgia in these memories that's hard to place, a feeling that wells up when a few notes from a forgotten tune suddenly sweeps me back to place, a time, a person.

The sweetest of these of course, are the songs that bring me the warm comfort of Evan. Some fun and light, some seemingly sad, but each a little piece of my life with the man I love. The first time we danced to Oasis's "Wonderwall", the first summer of Fabolous and "So Into You", and my favorite of all the favorites, the song that he still sings to me, the song that will be his even after he's gone, and that sometimes makes me cry when I hear it because simply thinking of how much I love him becomes too much: Seether and Amy Lee singing "Broken". It's hauntingly beautiful to me. It makes me realize how much we've come through, and how very much he loves me. And so, for your viewing pleasure this morning, I present...

Broken

I wanted you to know

I love the way you laugh

I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away

I keep your photograph,

I know it serves me well

I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

'Cause I'm broken when I'm open

And I don't feel like I am strong enough

'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome

And I don't feel right when you're gone away

The worst is over now and we can breathe again

I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away

There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight

I wanna hold you high and steal your pain[x2]

'Cause I'm broken when I'm open

And I don't feel like I am strong enough

'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome

And I don't feel right when you're gone away

Sprinklewhistle

The flu that has gripped our house for the better part of a week is making its way out of the door into the crisp spring air. It was a week of exhaustion, cranky kids, more body fluids than I care to remember, and many, many cuddles. This is just one of the scenes that played itself out repeatedly, in this case, Ely sling style in the mei tai sleeping.Sharkbait and the Bean, known to most as Aidyn and Ely, have bright shiny faces again, and are, even as I type, running pell mell in all directions of the house. The wellness came not a moment too soon as we gear up this weekend to finish up the garage. This weekend will be a giant push toward completeness, with *hopefully* only the concrete floor remaining to do. My part will be mostly feeding the large number of males who will be hammering, sawing, and drilling away. And for my blog, this close to completeness has me organizing photos and planning the huge before and after post. This garage and fence and backyard building project has been such a major part of life for us that it just wouldn't seem quite right to pass it by without a tribute to it somewhere in the pages of this blog that marks the fast march of days in my life.

Another milestone, not quite so huge or grand, is the passing of my cherry chocolate cell phone. It's been a friend for almost two years, the coolest phone I'd ever owned. Unfortunatly, of late, my little cellie has taken to random prank calls. I will go to pick it up to find it calling a number picked at its own leisure from my phonebook or else get calls "back" from people I never called to begin with. (Sorry Steve!) And so, the chocolate is gone, and has been replaced with none other than......the LG Voyager! Yes, my friends, yes. The coolest of the cool cell phones of this year is now in my possession. Its sleek, its fun, it lets me text up a storm. I, of course, am in love. I need to name it, it can't bear its slave name forever. I'm leaning towards Snickerdoodle. I was also lucky enough to get the new Jawbone bluetooth headset, which I'm sure will save me from the many tickets I was sure to get with the new cell phone law now in effect in Washington. I will leave you with a picture of my new toys, in a lovely pink hue. Caio!

A Pleasant Conversation Between Myself and Insanity

This was an email I wrote to Evan the other day (Friday to be exact, the day I posted about the start of the flu in our house with Aidyn's spectacular show of vomit) in answer to his question of how my morning was going. He said he got quite a giggle (a very manly giggle I'm sure) out of it, and I thought I'd repost it here so you can get a look at a typical morning around this house from my point of view.

A rundown of my morning:
Got dressed.
Got Aidyn dressed.
Spent 15 minutes stripping bed and putting bedding in washer. Had to move white load from two days ago that I forgot into dryer.
Came upstairs and fixed the kids tea (per Aid's request) and hot cereal.
Ate.
Blogged.
Spent another half an hour painstakingly removing cereal from Ely, her dishes, the table, her chair, the floor, and her hair.
Did dishes.
Decided to take advantage of kids watching tv so nicely and go clean our room.
Was putting away five baskets of laundry piled mindlessly around room when the sound 300 beads scattering in all directions on the table reached my ears.
Punished children sitting on kitchen table trying to pretend they had no idea why beads were everywhere.
Picked up 287 beads, decided I could care less about the rest.
Went back to room, stripped our bed, carried downstairs to wash.
Discovered I forgot to turn on dryer and thus, couldn't move Aidyn's sheets over yet.
Turned it on while swearing and dropping our sheets on the floor.
Came back upstairs, finished up laundry, came into living room.
Discovered open purse with contents strewed in a trail that led to baby girl sitting in cat bed with my ipod and a tube of lipstick. An empty tube of lipstick.
Spent next half hour cleaning favorite shade of lipstick from the crevices and ear bud hole of ipod.
Decided maybe I didn't like the color so much anymore.
Threw away empty lipstick, picked up 14 tissues left from cleaning ipod, and stashed contents of my purse back in.
Discovered where the other half of the lipstick went.
Took everything back out, cleaned out inside of purse smeared with now hated lipstick, and restashed everything back in.
Turned around to throw away garbage and stepped in puddle of Bella pee.
Swore some more and locked her in her crate while I cleaned it up.
Went into livingroom and began to put away random toys that had been dragged out this morning.
Was tackled from behind by 24 pounds of twisted steel and snot known as Ely.
Finished picking up toys with Ely hanging from my neck giggling madly.
Finally pried baby girl off to realize that she had taken off her diaper cover and peed her prefold. My shirt bore the evidence.
Changed shirt, swore some more.
Came out of room to find the cat's head in one child's hands, it's tail in another's. Fight over who should hold kitty in full swing complete with yelling, hitting, and the cat being stretched like some medival torture method.
Extracted cat, pried apart kids, instituted timeout.
Turned on favorite tv show for kids, sat down, and was cheered to see your name in my inbox.
Started writing about my day and decided some of it was rather funny after all.
Decided I love my life regardless of the puddles of pee and scattered beads.
Thought about you.
Contemplated hitting send.
Was tackled from one chair over by Ely, and discovered once again that lack of diaper cover and mommy's shirt don't mix.
Decided I best push send now while I have a chance and then go change my shirt....again.

That's Just the Way I Roll

So last night my son had the first puking of his big boy career. The baby spit ups and the toddler pukies are slightly different in my opinion. Sometime during the night he vomitted all over himself and his bed, and somehow managed to roll over and go back to sleep. This morning when Ev heard him cry, he went to see what was wrong and found him in the midst of crusty Aidyn-stomach-soup. Lovely.

We brought him in the shower with us and attempted to get the random bits clinging to him all of. One of his ears was full of it, it was all over his hair and neck, and some little flecks stuck to his hands and arms. He seemed to be pretty okay regardless, a little more subdued than normal, but told me his stomach didn't hurt. Perhaps it was the day filled with not a lot of good healthy food and too much running around. Why were we running around?


Because Evan's sister Amber finally had her baby! Turner Daniel arrived just after three yesterday afternoon, coming into this world weighing eight pounds one ounce and measuring 19 inches. We spent the evening at the hospital enjoying the newest addition in our family. As I held him and smelled his sweet baby freshness, I imagined Christmases years from now when the little cousins would play together, Easters spent hunting eggs together, and sleepovers in the backyard. B-E-A-Utiful.


My newest knitting project, a beanie for Evan, is coming along. I'm making it out of the leftover wool yarn from Turner's soaker and hat set. Speaking of yarn, I ordered eight skeins of the most gorgeous yarn from a 100purewool co-op. The colors are truly beautiful, I cannot wait to see them! I also ordered two skeins of undyed, so that I can test it in some kool-aid and see what kind of colors I get.

Well, that about sums up the most recent events. This weekend the poles for our garage will be set in concrete, and sometime next week the foundation will be poured and the framing will start going up. I will try to get on here and post as I find time!

Wool in my Hands...

A phenomenon is occurring in my house at this very moment, something I can't entirely explain and that happened without a conscious effort on my part. Somewhere, in my quest of peace and a better way, I stopped thinking and the miraculous started. In the small nooks and corners of my house, as if sprouting from the surfaces they lie and finding themselves looking at home, are the projects that have been filling our days of late. They peek from behind doors, stare down from shelves, and pop out of baskets and drawers. Across from me, draped out of the basket that holds our library books is the noodle necklace Aidyn painted last week. On the couch behind me is the just started beanie I am knitting for Evan. On an end table rests a small scarf for Ely, waiting it's finishing touches. Some small beads in a glass jar sit on the table beside a newly potted tulip plant, my camera, and the small stitch markers Aidyn helped me assemble this morning out of said beads. A drawing done for Evan's birthday still graces the wall in front of the door, and I can see another peeking from a stack of bills in a letter holder. As I look around, I feel the warmth of the people who live here, the tiny touches of their love in each project. Aidyn so proud of his painting and coloring, Ely bending over my hands while to watch me put new stitches in her scarf, the joy I feel as I imagine the finished product for one I love.

When I stopped looking, my house suddenly became my home. The love is palpable, the joy an aura. The family that lives here is far from perfect, but the evidence of their repleteness is abundant. Here's wishing you a home filled with joy, love, peace and all the crafts you can handle.