Tuesday, October 30, 2012

How Mothers Go Insane

"Mom! He's copying me!"

"Mom! She's copying me!"

"Mom! He's copying me!"

"Mom! She's copying me!"

"Mom! He's copying me!"

"Mom! She's copying me!"

"I am not copying you. I said 'she' not he!"


Friday, October 26, 2012

Southern Climes

Although August in Tennessee is regarded in these parts as being pretty close to the same temperature as Hell, I take solace in the fact that come late October, I can still pick a big bowl of fresh tomatoes, as well as lettuce, spinach, and peppers. My two year old and I split the three raspberries we found.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

What Costumes go with a Cast?

Our oldest had a ganglion cyst removed from his wrist yesterday. I suggested thumping him with the family Bible, but he didn't like that plan, so it was the surgeon's knife for him instead.

The arm isn't broken, but they cast it to keep the wrist immobilized for a few weeks. I asked the Boy why he chose a white cast out of the rainbow of choices, and he said he wanted it to look like a traditional cast. A traditionalist, already, it would appear.

But to the titular question—other than a mummy, how does one use a cast in a costume?

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Birthin' Babies

I'd heard tell of a new PBS show Call the Midwife, but forgotten about it promptly, until Betty Duffy wrote about it the other day. I pulled it up last night and watched entranced. 

The world of 1950s poor London women seems so different than my own, and yet as they show mothers delivering babies, I felt myself involuntarily holding my breath, trying not to push on my own, and weeping. When one of the women, who has delivered many a baby already resignedly pulls down her pants and gets ready for another exam, that too seemed awfully familiar.

As much as the world has changed, and thank goodness they forgo the shaving and enemas these days, many things about birthing babies don't change. Love shows up in the arrival of babies and through them the world goes on.

Watch Episode 1 on PBS. See more from Call the Midwife.

On Shoes

This is the year I simply no longer could put off buying new slippers, as became apparent when we had a cold morning last week. Our house is cold. Cold! Cold! There might be a reason that cold and old rhyme. I'm a barefoot girl by preference, but in the winter I wear slippers all the time and my old cheap pairs are completely worn out. I keep buying cheap ones, and they don't last.

So this year, I bit the bullet and ordered the Mercedes of slippers (I hope). I plan to make them last forever (I hope). I followed advice in the reviews and ordered a few sizes smaller than my feet, but they were a tad too small. So this morning, I found myself on a live chat with Zappos about making an exchange for bigger ones.

Some how, I'm a VIP customer with Zappos. That might make me feel special, but I think they say that to all the girls. I've ordered shoes from them exactly three times in 5 1/2 years. If they are looking for me to keep them in business, they are out of luck. Still based on my VIP status, they are shipping my new slippers out pronto.

My feet are so excited!

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Wrong Side of the Bed

My four year old woke up grumpy this morning. I can tell, based on the following exchanges, and because after all these children, I'm psychic.


Dad: Why did you just hit your brother?

Four year old: I didn't hit him. I punched him!


Four year old: What's for breakfast?

Me: I'm making blueberry pancakes.

Four year old: PANCAKES? You always make us eat pancakes. I don't want pancakes. I won't eat pancakes. I want a bagel.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Quick Takes

  1. It is hard to get back into the habit of blogging after a long break or else the fact that now that there are seven people vying for attention is having a large impact on my memory and attention-span.

    Usually, I think, "This would make a great blog post. I should take a picture. Darn. Where's the camera? Oh, you used it for a Lego movie and filled a 5 GB card with blurry pictures of Legos that look all the same and you left the camera in your room and can't find it? And look at that mopund of laundry and did the baby just spit up on my shoulder and leak out of the other end? Ack! Get me a rag. Now let's do a reading lesson. Oh wait, you need me to check your math and give you a spelling test -- and what do you mean you wet the bed?" And then two hours later when I remember that I thought of something interesting to say, all that is left is the memory of the passing thought and I can't even remember what that brilliant insight into the human condition (or picture of my cute child) I wanted to post.

  2. Did someone mention cute kids? Here's my beautiful (she'd probably kill me for calling her cute now) ten year old daughter with her newly pierced ears.

  3. There we go -- cute kiddos.

  4. Those pictures were taken on our trip last week to Fall Creek Falls State Park.

    A rare picture with me in it!

    My husband read Simcha Fisher's post some weeks ago on camping and felt we simply must head out on our own adventure. I talked him into renting a cabin. I haven't tent camped since we were in Glacier National Park in 2001 and we only had one small child back then (and I was a young 20-something). I like mattresses and bathrooms even more now, especially with a three month old along.

  5. Today is the last day of our first quarter of school. Maybe I'll get around to talking about what I'm using for Kindergarten soon. Or maybe even discussing what works and what doesn't, and how some days I manage to cook dinner, bake muffins and educate the kids and other days I call my husband at 10 a.m. and threaten to have the kids enrolled in public school before lunch time.
  6. Did I mention my kids are cute? The two year old is also a destructive, wall-writing, wall-climbing menace, who loves music and picks up tunes faster than any other kid I've known. Here he is singing the Kyrie:

  7. And here he is singing Ave Verum Corpus:

    I hear all the true geniuses have destructive tendencies.He's certainly destructive enough.
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