tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23900872216104366792023-11-16T06:33:32.665-05:00paint splashesRosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.comBlogger973125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-38857697829124468972014-07-26T22:01:00.003-04:002014-07-26T22:01:43.829-04:00Eleven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-56760461730994121412014-05-21T22:30:00.001-04:002014-05-21T22:30:40.027-04:00Birthday Baby Girl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A mother of mostly-grown kids told me the other day that the more babies you have, the more you wish they would stay babies a little longer. I am finding that to be true. I have enjoyed Eleanor's babyhood more than any of the others. She's just such a fun and sweet little thing, and something in me has finally come around to realizing what a short time babyhood is and I'm trying to learn to savor it a little.<br />
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Eleanor turned one today! She's still a baby, but the time for that is getting shorter. </div>
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I love how mystified one-year-old babies are for that first birthday. They go along every day, following the usual routine and then BAM-- cake, candle, and "Mom's really letting me dig my hand's into this?"</div>
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It's hilarious.<br />
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Now, if you're my Mother or my Grandmother, you're probably noticing something right now.</div>
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Call me a narcissist, but I couldn't help myself. Yes, that's me in the photo above. Me, on my first birthday, in a little purple and white dress, with a kitty cake.</div>
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And I have that dress! And I can make a kitty cake! And I have this little girl. So I did it. I resisted the urge to make everything not-fun by trying to replicate the old photo exactly, but I just had to catch the similarities. I only get one chance.</div>
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She's very much her sunny little self. But she's wearing my oooooold dress.</div>
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I got her own high-fashion duds back on her after the cake, though. She had that old dress pretty well covered with frosting.</div>
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Her Grandma made her a couple of cute little sunhats, and she looks adorable in them. She wasn't too excited about having something on her head at first, but when sufficiently distracted, I found that she forgot about it and wore one for most of the rest of the day. Call me shallow, but dressing her up cute is one very fun perk of having a girl. (For the record, I like to dress my boys up cute, too...)</div>
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It was a fun day! And now my baby is a one-year-old. Siiiiigh.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-88059932529925163322014-05-11T17:33:00.000-04:002014-05-11T17:33:40.577-04:00Mother Flowers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was sitting on my front porch during naptime today and I noticed my purple creeping phlox all in full bloom. It is one of the few plants that surprises me by thriving in the hard clay soil here. That soil frustrates my attempts to grow so many things. <br />
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Nathan gave me this plant just a few days after Jonah was born-- on my first Mother's Day as a mother. It was just a small plant then. I dug it up and moved it a year later when we moved to this house and now it has spread out quite a ways over the rocks bordering the flower bed, softening the hard edges.<br />
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It has grown large and beautiful.<br />
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There are weeds intermingling among the flowers. Some are very large and some are small. They're all tangled up with the stems and roots. Their tops break up the lovely surface of the phlox blossoms.<br />
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My state of motherhood has certainly grown since Jonah was born-- more babies, more joys, more struggles. It's beautiful, but there are weeds. Those weeds are mixed right in with the flowers. I can try to pull the weeds, but they are very firmly rooted in that hard, dry clay of my heart. Most of the weeds just break off at the ground and I can't quite get the root. It really seems too hard for me to get the root with the weed and it takes an awful lot more work. Even then, it might come back. <br />
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I can fluff the flowers around a little to try to hid the bare spot where the weed was, and where its root still lurks. It looks a little better. For now.<br />
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I take comfort in knowing that my motherhood flowers in the garden of the Master Gardener. He causes it to flourish, even in hard, dry clay, and He will continue to work at those stubborn weeds that I am too weak to pull. <br />
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Just as the phlox cannot purge the weeds that grow with it, so I cannot free myself from the selfish sins that take root in my heart and make my motherhood imperfect and sometimes ugly. Through God's constant care the weeds will not take over and the clay will not prevail. By His saving grace my mothering will grow and thrive and be a blessing to my family.<br />
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<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-35248424966587900892014-04-06T17:11:00.001-04:002014-04-06T17:11:20.428-04:00Pretty-pretties!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been a long winter, and I've tried to keep a steady stream of projects going to help it pass. At least I can feel like I've accomplished something while we've been cooped up, and when we are outside all the time, I can fully focus on outside things without being quite so pulled to the inside projects that pile up.</div>
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Last week I was bit by a little sewing bug. I love to sew if I can do it without interruption (nap time is golden) and when I'm fairly unrestricted in my creative flow. I like to just create things and wing it and make it up as I go. </div>
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I don't do so well with patterns, is what I'm saying. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignTM0liLnWXpR52NbM1AEgV0JdIuM4FZIq2Lu5q83XOqmMkj0yFoLxlohaMZWdpLkehJbyxhqxFSr2TYACldz8Opp_FJ5s8azKjhvj5d7oScvG8FuMt9q0NiVocGVlAK9PrsZ2VjBm-A/s1600/mar14-1-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignTM0liLnWXpR52NbM1AEgV0JdIuM4FZIq2Lu5q83XOqmMkj0yFoLxlohaMZWdpLkehJbyxhqxFSr2TYACldz8Opp_FJ5s8azKjhvj5d7oScvG8FuMt9q0NiVocGVlAK9PrsZ2VjBm-A/s1600/mar14-1-2.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Also, I have this little girl, and one great things about having a little girl is making her pretty things! I intend to do lots and lots of this. <br />
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I have lots of cute hand-me-down clothes for her, but surprisingly few skirts and dresses, at least in the size she's wearing right now. I have all sorts of scrap fabric around and it doesn't take much for a little baby skirt, so I made a few for my little Eleanor.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTsQFBQvhwvKanN6N0Kj8f2gCI1XRL6G0IR5irpzs1zJ4S3uU1orcjmZMokDtr8mnrpmAxgyIaEd25SFoZ98vEYns0MULwCcmauLkxL-CyVktIbiXIhYRuVADdZWb3z2l07uLkyclW4WU/s1600/mar14-2-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTsQFBQvhwvKanN6N0Kj8f2gCI1XRL6G0IR5irpzs1zJ4S3uU1orcjmZMokDtr8mnrpmAxgyIaEd25SFoZ98vEYns0MULwCcmauLkxL-CyVktIbiXIhYRuVADdZWb3z2l07uLkyclW4WU/s1600/mar14-2-3.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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I really love the trim on this one-- it's just grosgrain ribbon that I folded and pleated as I sewed. I was really patting myself on the back about it until I got done and found that it makes the hem very stiff. It's kind of like a hoop skirt... or a lampshade. But it's still cute.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilguQjOMtQt7_H2Lu-0uZZ2OlLs-0Cq-PhQXkcaByZaXFes5quQ8eDso_LZte1ZJhppthk2V_uYdk8v6PvLf5B-hosB3-CqlSnTgBgtMAryvNOZhAJnCVqNi6M12R-xwfnUTOaQsnSVw4/s1600/mar14-3-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilguQjOMtQt7_H2Lu-0uZZ2OlLs-0Cq-PhQXkcaByZaXFes5quQ8eDso_LZte1ZJhppthk2V_uYdk8v6PvLf5B-hosB3-CqlSnTgBgtMAryvNOZhAJnCVqNi6M12R-xwfnUTOaQsnSVw4/s1600/mar14-3-4.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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And when I asked her to model the little green and yellow skirt, she protested. I guess she wasn't getting paid enough for this gig.<br />
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So those were quick and easy and fun and I still want to make a blue one (she looks adorable in blue with her bright blue eyes), but I don't seem to have so much blue fabric around. I'll pick up a couple of fat quarters in some pretty blues to make a blue skirt. <br />
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It's getting warm enough for skirts now (and it's about time, lemmetellya) and she should be able to wear these all summer. <br />
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<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-71051466789633459982014-02-27T14:34:00.002-05:002014-02-27T14:44:07.928-05:00Of Boo-boosPain hurts. This is an obvious fact of life, but sometimes we have to go back to the basics. When you're little and you're growing and you're just learning about life, this is a basic lesson that is often repeated. I'm all grown up and I still have a little trouble with it.<br />
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My little guys have lots of owies, every day. I kiss owies from dawn till dusk. Usually a kiss is sufficient, sometimes some Arnica for a bad one, or a little homemade herbal salve for scratches. Andrew loudly demands attention for the smallest bump --we call him the "squeaky wheel"-- but his owies magically disappear with a touch from mommy. He runs off to play again, no worse for the wear. Evan --our "highly sensitive child"-- has a little more trouble getting past things. He seems to be genuinely hurt by every little thing. Even toothpaste makes him cry because the mint is "hot", not matter how mild it is. He's also a little clumsy, so he seems to get a lot of hard bumps. When he comes to me crying, I comfort him but he says "It <i>still hurts</i>. It won't stop hurting! I want it to stop!" I always explain that it will go away in a minute, but that is small comfort. <br />
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Sometimes I get so exasperated. <i>It's just a bump, Evan. It'll go away in a minute. Please stop wailing!</i> Recently, though, I had a sudden thought: <i>I sound exactly like this. All the time. In my pleading with God over every trial and pain, this is how I sound. And worse, probably.</i> I go on about how hard it is, that I'm too weak. I sound like Evan when he cries that "It's too hard! I'm too small! I can't do this!" when I give him some small task that he doesn't want to do. I'm a lot like Evan, see. I can relate to him. I've always been over-sensitive. I don't deal with pain well. Physical, emotional, mental-- it hurts. A lot. And I want it to go away. And I avoid it at all costs. I often wish this weren't true of me. I wish I had a tougher skin. I wish I couldn't feel things so much. But it's life, right? Pain hurts.<br />
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Some people say, "Oh, but God will get you through it." I respond, "I have no doubt of that. The only question is how much will it hurt?" I'm thankful that I have a loving Heavenly Father to take my hurts to. Even though He often deems that I just have to go through it anyway. I don't even promise not to whine. It's a process. I'm learning, just like my little ones, and sometimes I'm amazed to see the parallels.<br />
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I think that my "healing" tendencies --my fascination with health and the human body and remedies and medicines-- is partly rooted in this. I love to learn about the workings of our amazing bodies. I can read about it all day long and not get tired of it. I'm always gathering information and putting it together and learning more and finding remedies for everything. Perhaps this is the upside of my pain-avoidance? Maybe I can learn to use it for the good of other around me. For right now I am always learning.<br />
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A month ago we were in Oregon visiting our family there. It was a great trip and I really cherished all the family time. But halfway through the three-week stay, I got a nasty case of the flu. It was the worst one I've had in years (possibly ever?). It just went on and on and nothing seemed to help. You can bet I did a lot of whining and complaining. It doesn't help that when I'm sick, I don't sleep, and five nights without sleep makes me pretty crabby and fragile. And I was so annoyed to be unable to join in all the fun. The Superbowl Party? I was in bed with a high fever and couldn't even enjoy all the amazing food we had been planning. I was glad to have some sense of taste back by my birthday, so I could eat the yummy supper my Mom made, but I was still pretty miserable. Then it turned into a bad sinus infection that had me living on ibuprophen for two weeks. By then I was pretty sick of being sick.<br />
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But desperation is the mother of invention, right? (That <i>is</i> how the saying goes, I think?) Through all this sickness (other people in the house had colds at the same time) we needed some vitamin C! We'd been using those <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Emergen-C-Vitamin-Orange-Packets-packets/dp/B0009RF8LA">Emergen-C</a> drinks, but those are expensive and seem to be used up quickly. Mom had some ascorbic acid, but that is not really vitamin C. Our bodies can't use that alone. So I got to thinking... I came up with a vitamin C drink that is similar to Emergen-C (it doesn't contain the B vitamins that are in Emergen-C, though I have some doubts about whether the form of those Bs is even very good). The idea of this drink is to combine the ascorbic acid with minerals and bioflavinoids to make it into a usable form of vitamin C (mostly calcium ascorbate) for the body. <br />
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So here's the recipe:<br />
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<ul style="background-color: #fafafa; border: 0px; color: #422223; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; list-style: none; margin: 0px 1.5em 2em 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<li style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 0.2em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 2em; text-indent: -2em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="ingredient" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 part ascorbic acid powder</span></span></li>
<li style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 0.2em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 2em; text-indent: -2em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="ingredient" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 part organic lemon or orange peel powder</span></span></li>
<li style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 0.2em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 2em; text-indent: -2em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="ingredient" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1/2 part dolomite powder (the fine kind like Kal brand)</span></span></li>
<li style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 0.2em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 2em; text-indent: -2em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="ingredient" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1/8 part baking soda (more/less to adjust the amount of fizz)</span></span></li>
<li style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 0.2em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 2em; text-indent: -2em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="ingredient" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">stevia powder to taste (optional)</span></span></li>
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These ingredients are all pretty easy to find at a health food store or on the internet. Mix the powders together and store in a tightly closed jar, keep dry. To make a drink, mix 1/2 teaspoon of the mixture into water or juice. Sweeten to taste with stevia, honey, maple syrup, etc. 1/2 teaspoon of the mixture should contain approximately 1,000 milligrams of vitamin C.<br />
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And here is one more homemade remedy I recently made:<br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMdqd3CTgDILIdnrnhXY00Jfzvdh3MHLBLnhevlRUQ4uq5qToXe0OG5NhN0uv6VJ83_mCsreYVrutpJ1432eP8zApFZB-zsaqtHLANqiw22ceNFaGV7R7liJoe3Ef-FiGAXBLY4w0rfs/s1600/feb14-96-11.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></div>
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Ice packs for my little guys' bumps and owies! They were always taking my big gel ice packs, which I would later find melting somewhere and not available when I needed one. Not to mention the inevitable probability that I would soon find a mess of gel in the couch or my slipper or something.</div>
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I mixed 1 part rubbing alcohol with 2 parts water in a little zipper baggie. I double bagged it and folded the top and taped it down. Then I sewed up little pouches with some thrift-store flannel that a friend gave me. It occurred to me that I could have used some cute trendy fabric and it would be all fashionable, but hey, I used what I had on hand. And the boys like the colors. We keep them in the freezer and the mixture freezes slushy, not solid. The flannel is double-layered so they're comfortable to use right out of the freezer. We like them much better than those little "Boo Boo Buddies" that you can buy in the store. Those things are always small and hard and easily lost and broken.</div>
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Evan and Andrew happily agreed to pose with some pretend owies to demonstrate just how handy these little ice packs are.</div>
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All better!<br />
<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-2758962830579720942014-01-05T21:16:00.000-05:002014-01-05T21:16:09.012-05:00Faux Gingerbread Houses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The thoughtful comments from my lovely loyal readers have convinced me to keep this little blog going such as it is and as much as I can. I don't promise regular posting, but, as one reader said, it's here when I feel the urge to write. And I like writing, when I can get to it.</div>
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We had a snow day today (and might have several after this by the looks of things). It's quite a blizzard out there, so we're hunkered down waiting it out. And tomorrow is Epiphany, so Christmas is coming to an end now. I had all sorts of plans to do fun Christmas things (or, uh, I had plans to make plans... or something) with the kids for the 12 days of Christmas, but we've been sick and the weather has been bad, so regrettably, nothing has really happened. But today the kids and I were snowed in alone (Nathan was fixing a horrible broken pipe mess at church) and we're feeling better (coughing and sniffling, but no longer miserable) so we had some fun.<br />
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I even took all four of them outside to play in the snow. Usually I kick them out the door and enjoy the quiet, but it was suggested to me by someone on facebook that perhaps my children don't stay out long to play because I'm not with them (duh), so I caved. I got myself and my little ones bundled and we went out. Even Eleanor go a snow suit, and she was fascinated to sit in the snow, until she tipped over. Then she had to be held. I helped the boys figure out how to sled on garbage bags (because, um, we don't have any sleds) and we started to dig a snowcave, and then the baby and two-year-old were done, so we trooped back in and made blueberry pancakes for lunch.<br />
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And no, I didn't take pictures, because I can barely manage the baby and two-year-old contingent in the snow. The camera seems to be a bit too much. Once again, lots of snow pictures of Jonah when he was little.... none of these guys. Ah, well.<br />
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Jonah has been begging to make gingerbread houses for a month. I have made gingerbread houses as a kid, and all I remember is how much I always regret starting the project once I'm half-way through it. They never seem to turn out like they look in my head, and they have a way of falling down and getting lopsided andandand...<br />
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But I had a bit of inspiration the other day. I realized that I had some chocolate graham crackers left from our summer s'more making and that they would make lovely houses, without all the work of making gingerbread house parts.<br />
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We also have piles of candy that came from the candy bags that are given out at church for Christmas Eve. While it wasn't quite the usual candy that would be used for house decoration.... who cares? The boys didn't know the difference and were quite creative with what we had on hand.<br />
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They had a great time, and it was pretty low-stress for me. Win-win!<br />
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Of course this was a nap-time project because I wouldn't dream of making gingerbread houses with Andrew at this point. When he woke up from his nap, he sat in his new big-boy-bed (that we recently got out for him for the very purpose that he can get himself out of bed when he is done sleeping) and yelled for someone to come get him. After a while I went up and asked him why he didn't come down by himself.<br />
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"I thtuck." he said.<br />
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Hm. <br />
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So that was our day.</div>
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And would someone please tell me how this baby is big enough to be standing up and playing with toys at a bench already?</div>
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<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-55585659206284716662014-01-01T16:57:00.001-05:002014-01-01T16:57:50.366-05:00Questioning...I just love looking over the history on this blog. It's just about six years now that I've been posting snippets of our life here. Reading back through it is just so fun! It's all the scrapbooks and photo albums of our family that I don't actually make. <br />
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(I really wish there were some way to easily transmute this all into a print book that I can keep for my children to see later. That would sure be a special book.)<br />
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The question now is: can I keep going?<br />
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I seem to have lost my momentum... I can use the "busy" excuse, and it's certainly true, but I have time for what I make time for, right? <br />
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One post last month, two each of the months before... It's a new low, really. I haven't posted a single thing about Christmas. Compared to almost 300 posts in the first year, 38 over the last is a little pathetic. Does it matter? I really don't know. It's like the saying that the older kids are photographed more than the younger. That certainly seems to be true. It's like the complete baby book that I have for Jonah, the partial one for Evan, and the, um, NO baby books for Andrew and Eleanor. I know they will love to have them, if I can ever get to them, and just what are my priorities, again?<br />
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So I'm trying to decide whether to keep this blog going, or just let it go. Do I still love it? Is it worth it? Am I over it? I really loved posting here for the first few years --it's been such a great creative outlet-- but I feel like it's turning into a chore. But I do so love having this little family history like this. But do I still want it to be public? But if it isn't, will I even bother? In general, dealing with photos and keeping records are grueling chores for me anyway, and that is all this blog has turned into. I used to really love the funny and creative things I used to write here. It's turned into just an occasional journaling of our life and times. I feel like my "funny" and "creative" has been broken by "crazy" and "depleted". Maybe it's not gone, maybe this is just not the time. I hate to be a quitter, though. Is "something" better than "nothing"?<br />
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In any case, I'm not sure than anyone even reads this anymore, considering the woeful lack of content. If it's just family looking at this, isn't that why I have Facebook?<br />
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Anyway, these are the questions I've been pondering while I've been not posting anything. Along with, you know, making and enjoying my little family Christmas, feeding growing little bodies and minds, and planning trips all over the country in the very near future. Nathan just bought plane tickets to go to his Grandpa's funeral next week, and after he gets home we'll be preparing to leave for our Annual Epic Journey Across the Country. These kiddos need to have a visit with their long-distance relations, but it means that the next six weeks are going to be freakishly crazy. <br />
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In the meantime, maybe I'll post some of it here, or maybe...<br />
<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-48611389154627088332013-12-14T23:23:00.001-05:002013-12-14T23:26:06.853-05:00Little Drop of Sweet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Andrew and Evan love to hold their baby sister, even though she is no longer very amenable to being held by them. Shes wiggly, and she's got places to go. Andrew holds on tight.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-1588887745879520242013-11-10T17:40:00.000-05:002013-11-10T17:40:25.827-05:00Who can resist a little girl in polka dots?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I had a little thought this morning. It's personal. I almost don't want to post it here. But I think I will.</div>
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I looked at little Eleanor Carolyn, and I thought how thankful I am for her. She's fun. She's sweet. Not that that isn't also true of my other children, but I tend to be slow to come around to things, and my adjustment to motherhood has been slow and grueling at times. <br />
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I recall that sometime last year --I can't quite remember just when-- I was struggling, treading water, and having a particularly hard time with life. Not for any particular reason, or even any good reason. It's just the way life is sometimes, I think. So I started to pray for joy. Joy in my children, joy in my life. There I was, trying to figure out how to love and care for three boys-- two who were so little, both still nursing, needing me so much. I didn't want to hate it. I didn't want to feel the air being slowly squeezed out of my lungs. Then I was pregnant again, and I was sure I was really going to drown. <br />
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So I kept praying --desperately imploring God-- for joy. I thought it would elude me forever.<br />
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So I looked at Eleanor this morning, and I laughed out loud. My Heavenly Father --I think HE laughed out loud-- heard my prayer and answered it. "Here's some joy." He said. "Joy in the form of a sweet baby girl." He knows me well, of course. He knew I wouldn't be happy at first. He knew I would cry. He knew I would complain. He knew the work would be hard. <br />
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I was (and <i>am</i>) more overwhelmed than ever.<br />
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And more joyful.<br />
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To refresh my joy in motherhood by <i>increasing</i> my motherhood? Only God can pull off a stunt like that.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-28160587022970871142013-11-03T16:01:00.001-05:002013-11-03T16:01:45.898-05:00Punkinheads<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I guess it's been awhile since I've just posted photos of our recent goings-on.</div>
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We carved <i>Reformation</i> pumpkins. Jonah did his completely on his own, and Evan pretended to do his. I hadn't planned on him carving a pumpkin, but he really wanted to carve his tiny little pumpkin.</div>
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We may not celebrate Halloween, but we like to have fun, too.<br />
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It turned out pretty cute.<br />
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This little punkinhead is the cutest of all, though.<br />
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She learned a new trick in the last few days. It always cracks me up how determined babies are when they are learning something. Once she figured out how to get up on her knees, she's done nothing but practice, practice, practice.<br />
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"Push her down!" her Grandma says. Yes, really. I actually kinda sorta want to. I'm very happy with an immobile baby, but babies will grow and she will learn new things no matter what I think.<br />
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I made her some little hairbows. A friend told me about the idea of making baby hairclips from the zippers of ziploc bags. It's genius, really. Those things really grip little bits of fine baby hair. She's lost so much hair that she really only has a little shock of long hair on the top. I try to spread it around. Like a little baby comb-over. Poor girl... But never has a comb-over looked so cute on anyone, right?<br />
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Balding like a middle-aged man, and she's still stinkin' adorable.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-89700761732034679432013-10-26T23:02:00.001-04:002013-10-26T23:02:43.402-04:00A Two-Year-Old!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Andrew turned two today!</div>
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I admit that I was actually a little surprised to realize that he's only just now turning two. He's been <i>acting</i> like a two-year-old for quite a while now, and I was already thinking of him as being two. I hope that doesn't mean that the terrible twos, I mean, uh.... <i>terrific</i> twos... are going to get worse now that he's actually two...<br />
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He's been so sweet today, though, and he had a really fun birthday. It's always so fun when they know what a birthday is all about and can enjoy it.<br />
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His Grandma gave him new boots which he sorely needed and is very excited about. I was praying he wouldn't ask to sleep in them, because that's the sort of thing he would do. He got lots of new little cars and trucks, too, though he spent more time lining them up neatly on the floor than playing with them. He definitely has a little case of two-year-old OCD, I'd say. After he finished eating his cake, he couldn't get down from his chair until he had stacked all the cake plates within his reach and laid the forks neatly on top of the stack. All things decently and in order, unless it's contradicts his will in which case he always just opts to roll on the floor and yell "NO". </div>
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Life is so complicated for a tot and there's just so much to learn to make it all tolerable.</div>
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It helps to be cute.<br />
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Happy second birthday to my sweet little chunka-lunka hunka-monka! (For some reason, I have more nick-names for this guy than all the others put together.)<br />
<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-88740397685457324042013-10-25T17:33:00.002-04:002013-10-25T17:38:41.390-04:00And it was all over too fast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I took my two littlest people and went to Oregon to visit family. Did you know that? No? Oh, that would be because I have completely failed to tell you about it.</div>
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I actually got home a week and a half ago, and then I uploaded these photos, but got interrupted and never actually wrote the post. And then, all week, I've been thinking of other things to post, but I couldn't, because I knew that this post was unfinished, so I could hardly start a new one, now could I?</div>
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So we went, and came back, and it was a terribly short (but full!) trip. Nathan stayed home with Jonah and Evan because it was just too expensive for us all to go. I think that was a little tough on them, but they survived just fine. Everyone back home was just itching to meet Eleanor before she got any bigger. Andrew got to go, too, much to the jealousy of his brothers.<br />
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I'm pretty much used to living far away from everyone, but every time I have a new baby, the distance really grates on me. I want so badly to share the babies with everyone who loves them. This is just the way things are, and we make the best of it, but sometimes I almost can't stand it.</div>
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We really made sure to pack this visit with love and fun. Andrew and Eleanor were snuggled and kissed and generally doted upon. Andrew has been shaping up to be my most challenging 2 year old (and he's not even 2 yet...), but having him away from his brothers for a while on different territory was actually wonderfully refreshing. Once he settled in, he was sweet as pie and I was able to enjoy him more as well.</div>
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Eleanor is the most social baby I have ever known. She's never shy, never afraid of going to someone new. She just loves to see people and talk and be talked to. She never tires of attention, she (almost) never gets grumpy. It's kind of amazing to me. And a little scary because I'm so... well, not very social. It appears that she may very well be a "people person" and a chatterbox and even, yes... an <i>extrovert</i>. (Yeek!) Time will tell. For the present, she charms everyone.</div>
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I greatly enjoyed the change of pace from normal life. My siblings are just such a fun group of people, and my parents love the rare times we're all together, even though it means a lot of noise and chaos and food to cook. We played cards until late at night, drank lots of wine, and had some rousing and hilarious discussions. A group of us went to my sister's play --a small-town production of Shakepeare's <i>Macbeth</i>-- and had a lovely evening out.<br />
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We managed to get some family photos while we were all together. We did a four-generation photo with my Mom and Grandma. We have one from when I was a baby with my great-grandma as well.<br />
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You know how hard it is to take a family picture with little kids clowning around and/or crying?<br />
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Yeah, well, I'm thinking that never really changes.</div>
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And before we knew it, the week was over, and we had to get back to real life.</div>
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I miss those people.</div>
<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-30023519001261910732013-09-28T22:25:00.003-04:002013-09-28T22:29:16.717-04:00My Wittle, Itty-bitty Baby...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
No, sorry, not <i>that</i> one. <i>This</i> one. The big one.</div>
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My wittle, itty-bitty, biggest baby boy looks so growed up.</div>
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We finally got this kid an eye exam and it turns out, sadly enough, that his eyesight is worse than mine. And mine sure ain't great. He's only 8. Being a precocious reader plus genetics not in his favor are not a good combination.</div>
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So now he's stuck with "speck-TACKles" as he calls them (is that hilarious, or what? I can't bring myself to correct him.).</div>
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His amazing discovery of clear sight has been fraught with hilarity. When we walked out of the eye doctor's office, he stopped dead in his tracks to look at the landscaping rocks. Driving home all I heard was, "Mom! Look at that! Mom! Did you SEE that? Whoa! That's amazing!" We've realized why he lost interest in star-gazing and looking for wildlife, why baseball has been a struggle for him, and why he sits so close to the danged screen when we watch movies.</div>
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I try not to think about what comes next. If he's anything like his Daddy (and he <i>is</i>), his eyesight may continue to deteriorate for awhile as he grows. Nathan was coke-bottle-boy at 12. And then there's the very strong likelihood of broken/lost glasses. Jonah <i>is</i> only 8, and he's very distractable.</div>
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But. I am so glad he can see again. Sight is a gift.<br />
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(And I had this thought: maybe this is just a teensy bit like what it will be like getting to heaven. It'll be like getting glasses and seeing everything so clearly for the first time and exclaiming in wonder at everything around. Truly, a gift.)Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-4206359667863946612013-09-24T15:12:00.003-04:002013-09-24T15:14:44.177-04:00Fair Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuTAAnDzCvAML8mgYIL79Aq22wn7yzqUg8dNsPVzNfHybmKFPJ1opkthKlHuDUpsi3JboWDVp0V2-pGspk_PRY32H2fy845OcYwwi-Cuv6d6cfXnGFxR9Q0JP6gX7iF0Coy1U2CnuGqAM/s1600/setp13-444-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuTAAnDzCvAML8mgYIL79Aq22wn7yzqUg8dNsPVzNfHybmKFPJ1opkthKlHuDUpsi3JboWDVp0V2-pGspk_PRY32H2fy845OcYwwi-Cuv6d6cfXnGFxR9Q0JP6gX7iF0Coy1U2CnuGqAM/s640/setp13-444-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We took the kids to the county fair on Sunday evening. </div>
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Before that, it was very important to lounge around on the couch and take naps and all that to store up some energy for the massive undertaking that is navigating the fair with little kids.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAn8Tx44BNLZ0mNT_Mi6HVEUt3-g3ypghwT1Q3RIoZsgXiVd0W2IEFUd5NQaF0HgMh095Vggq_JBSQUS_UGx5tkhPJwivuvFvkjYbqONG9iZK1Dnv9BqpZMoZatH1WTiQIMlvZZCbaKzQ/s1600/setp13-451-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAn8Tx44BNLZ0mNT_Mi6HVEUt3-g3ypghwT1Q3RIoZsgXiVd0W2IEFUd5NQaF0HgMh095Vggq_JBSQUS_UGx5tkhPJwivuvFvkjYbqONG9iZK1Dnv9BqpZMoZatH1WTiQIMlvZZCbaKzQ/s640/setp13-451-9.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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Evidently, I was too busy having fun to take very many pictures. The kids really loved seeing all the animals, even though we have lots of animals at home. And Jonah and I looked through the exhibits and pipe-dreamed about what we want to enter next year. Being at the fair always makes me miss entering things and I make all sorts of plans for next year, but when it comes around again, I'm just too busy to get to it. BUT. We totally could have won the "largest potato" contest, so next year, baby. Next year.<br />
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And then we made a little parenting slip-up that I laughed about when I realized it at home.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuuusLELMqPTjn3Y48CUpPx2hw3K8fNNIUirH3wn1ITeMhJvvEmcAWsng1ZZYyH9TXqnOlowja_QK5N7zXFxKM2fslknBB7c2j-FrljAwh3i3wZd-SXtcQvMyJ7KoG0HLukGfCk93s4eM/s1600/setp13-435-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuuusLELMqPTjn3Y48CUpPx2hw3K8fNNIUirH3wn1ITeMhJvvEmcAWsng1ZZYyH9TXqnOlowja_QK5N7zXFxKM2fslknBB7c2j-FrljAwh3i3wZd-SXtcQvMyJ7KoG0HLukGfCk93s4eM/s640/setp13-435-4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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"And now you can ride some rides, guys!" we said. <br />
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And they were like, "Uh. Okay."<br />
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Evan and Andrew did not ask to ride rides.</div>
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They couldn't have cared less about riding rides.</div>
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They were quite happy to <i>look</i> at all the rides from the safety of our hand-holds.</div>
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In fact, they might have been a tad bit nervous.</div>
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Okay, so they rode two rides. They were fine on the kiddy train, even if they completely couldn't have cared less. Evan got a little upset about getting on the ferris wheel with Daddy, but was fine after a few minutes, though again, he really didn't see the point.</div>
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I think we've just gotten so used to the rides being a <i>big</i> deal for Jonah over the last few years, that we totally went on autopilot and didn't think about it for the little guys. We just did it. They're 2 and 3 years old for cryin' in a bucket. We totally could have saved <i>that</i> four bucks.</div>
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Not a big deal, I guess, but I really laughed about it later.</div>
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And actually, Jonah wasn't that into rides this time around, either. Last year he discovered the joys of riding rides with friends, and going alone just doesn't hold so much excitement for him now.</div>
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Corndogs, however. </div>
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Now those were a pretty big hit all around.<br />
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I watched the 4-H kids milling around with their animals and projects, and it occurred to me that the day may not be far off when we'll be spending plenty of time at the fair every year. For now, we'll enjoy our one afternoon each year. It's probably a short-lived phenomenon.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-82253542133271524682013-09-21T22:26:00.003-04:002013-09-21T22:26:46.237-04:00Baby pictures will make you happy...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Okay, okaaaaaay. I give in. So much for philosophy. Photos it is!<br />
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I know you all only love me for my good-looking babies, not my brains anyway. It's okay. I'm fine with this.<br />
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This. This little miss is 4 months old today! I don't think there's a more delightful baby in all the world. I'm just sure there can't possibly be.<br />
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Nor a more handsome little boy sporting a highly sophisticaed hot-cocoa-mustache. He's an old soul, is Evan.<br />
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And if that didn't lift your spirits, how about 9 jugs of hard cider bubbling away and looking so happy they could just float off with their yellow airlock-balloons.</div>
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But I know you really only come here for the baby pictures.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-32792439541180340682013-09-18T22:46:00.000-04:002013-09-18T22:47:39.856-04:00Math BuzzingBlog? I have a blog? Oh yeah, I do have a blog. And it's been a while, hasn't it? And you're probably hoping I'm going to post some more photos of this sweet little lump of baby flesh that is wriggling in my lap right now, but alas, I have no intention of doing that today. I have a bee buzzing in my bonnet and I'm going to work it out right here, right now, while my supper cooks and my boys play and my baby soaks me in drool. You see, I have a marginal intellectual life that peaks out from under the laundry pile every now and then.<br />
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Okay, so I've been thinking a lot about math. Teaching math, learning math, using math. I've just completed a free online course from Stanford University called "How to Learn Math" and my mind = BLOWN. All I can say is sometimes a little inspiration goes a long ways. It's taken me about two months to work through the class material and in that time I've done a lot of thinking and digesting and pondering.<br />
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Our general view of math is so warped. Actually, not just warped, but limited and stunted. How far would we get in music if we first had to spend years and hundreds of hours studying music notation before we could start to make music? Dang that would be boring. I would quit. I'm guessing we'd have a lot less beautiful music in the world. When you decide to build a pole barn or a house or a garden shed do you spend years learning the names of your tools and pounding hundreds of nails into boards? No, you start your project, figure out what you need, and if you weren't very good at hitting a nail with your hammer in the beginning, well, you're gonna be improving that skill, aren't you. If you fix a car, but it still won't start, do you write it off and go on to the next car? No, you're going to back up and find your problem and keep going until it works. Do we require extensive courses in parenting and all the things you'll need to know about children before having a baby and raising it into an adult? Some might think that would be a good idea, but no, it's definitely a learn-as-you-go endeavor.<br />
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In <i>no part of life</i> do we think we need to have all the tools and understanding of them before we start. It's not possible. Our brains simply don't work that way. We get bored, we can't keep track of information we don't use, and we simply don't have that kind of time.<br />
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And yet with math, we think the proper way to learn it is to spend years drilling, memorizing, and practicing, learning the tools in order, going through the steps before we <i>use</i> any math, <i>if</i> we actually ever do. It's no wonder it's a classic, stereotypical question, whined by school children across the world: <i> "When are we ever gonna use this stuff?" </i><br />
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And then of course, we're all well-drilled in the idea that mistakes are wrong! and bad! and must be purged out of our mathematical work. If you make a mistake, you get a big red check mark and your grade goes down, and if that happens enough, you can't get into a good college and you'll be doomed to menial, minimum-wage jobs for the rest of your life. Avoid those check marks! No mistakes! What about real life? In real life when we make a mistake, we learn what not to do. We learn what doesn't work, and we move on to find what does. Are you getting this? <i>When we make mistakes, we learn. </i>Isn't that what school is supposed to be? Learning? But mistakes are not allowed in school. That's a <i>non sequitur</i> if I've ever seen one.<br />
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I've come to the conclusion that we just have a very poor understanding of what math actually is. I really like this quote by British mathematician Keith Devlin for describing what I (and most of the rest of the population, I gather) are not seeing:<br />
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"Mathematical notation is no more mathematics than musical notation is music. A page of sheet music represents a piece of music, but the notation and the music are not the same; the music itself happens when the notes on the page are sung or performed on a musical instrument. It is in it's performance that the music comes alive; it exists not on the page, but in our minds. The same is true of mathematics."</blockquote>
How beautiful and inspiring is a sheet of music? Eh... meh. But when we hear music? Amazing! I have to say that I honestly do not know what math "sounds like" or "looks like" or however else it can be beautiful. But I've been told that it is. It's a way of expressing our experience of creation, but most of us don't "get it" even though we've spent many years learning math.<br />
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I recently read a portion of Plato's <i>Republic</i> and was astonished when Socrates said that math "leads naturally to reflection, but never [has] been rightly used; for the true use of it is simply to draw the soul towards being." That may be a little esoteric, but this is Socrates we're talking about. We know that math has lots of practical applications, but if kids are getting neither practical application nor beauty and meaning and excitement, then it is a dry subject indeed, and I can understand why so many kids love to hate math.<br />
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So. This is all well and good, but where do we go with this idea? Kids still have to learn math; can't get through life without it; it's useful in our society; need those shiny college credits... etc. Well, that's what I'm trying to find out. I want to learn to teach math to my kids without textbooks and worksheets. And I'm no mathematician, so I think I'm gonna have to do some digging.<br />
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I saw an interview with Sarah Flannery, a young mathematician who has won awards for her work. She said that she learned math because her father gave her math puzzles to work on. As she worked on the puzzles, she discovered the tools she needed by asking questions and collaborating with her family and then she learned how to communicate the solutions. I've also watched videos of classrooms situations where the students are all solving tangible problems together and learning together as they go. And then I've seen how my own 8 year old son lights up with real-life problems or entertaining math games and how he wilts at the prospect of a whole page of repetitious addition and subtraction combinations.<br />
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I really think that the most important part of learning math like this lies in key #3 of the <a href="http://www.tjed.org/about-tjed/7-keys/">Seven Keys of Great Teaching</a>:<i> inspire, not require</i>; and #7, <i>you, not them.</i> Sarah Flannery's father did puzzles <i>with</i> her. The kids in the videos I saw had a teacher engaged in the problems <i>with</i> them. Jonah loves to work out math problems or games that I am working on. If I shudder at the thought of a math worksheet, why should I expect it of my child? But if I'm learning to use a Japanese soroban abacus instead of a calculator, or Nathan and I talk about a math puzzle at the supper table, or I'm figuring out how many gallons of paint I need to buy for the room I want to paint, or I'm calculating the right amount of pectin and sugar to use in my quintuple batch of strawberry jam, you better believe my child will be wanting to use that math, too! So my goal, for the time being, is rather than make them do math everyday, to show my kids math everyday and help them be excited about the solutions.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-57777913339227082982013-08-18T20:24:00.000-04:002013-08-18T20:26:15.876-04:00Cameo AppearancesHere she is, ready for her close-up.<br />
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Awwww...</div>
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<i>Who is this?!?</i></div>
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<i>He's ruining my shots!</i></div>
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Awwww... Pretty wittle pink tights!</div>
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What a beautiful dolly!</div>
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Work it, baby!</div>
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<i>Hey!</i></div>
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<i>Well, I never!</i><br />
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Can't you goofs be serious?</div>
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Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-75756996678000755622013-08-11T17:47:00.003-04:002013-08-11T18:09:02.170-04:00Little SolutionsBefore church this morning, I played through the hymns to prepare for the service. Nathan was working in his office, Jonah was reading, Eleanor was lying on a blanket, happily kicking her feet and babbling to her hands. The little boys were lining up <i>all</i> the hymnals on the pews, but I wasn't paying attention to them, so I didn't discover that until later. For the time, all I knew is that they were quietly busy. <br />
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This is often a very meditative time for me. As long as no one needs me presently, my mind is free to follow the music.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"> Built on the Rock the Church doth stand,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Even when steeples are falling;</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Crumbled have spires in every land,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Bells still are chiming and calling,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Calling the young and old to rest,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">But above all the soul distrest,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Longing for rest everlasting.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">As my fingers wandered over the keys, my mind wandered over the people in our church and other family and loved ones and some ongoing problems they and we have had. I thought about apathy and sickness. I thought about struggles and pain. I thought about loneliness and isolation.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">We are God's house of living stones,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Builded for His habitation;</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">He through baptismal grace us owns</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Heirs of His wondrous salvation.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Were we but two His name to tell,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Yet He would deign with us to dwell,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">With all His grace and His favor.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I thought about our country and the disturbing loss of freedom and difficulties of making a living in this world. I thought about blessing and abundance. I thought about want and hardship.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I thought about all the things I've been praying about for so long. The things that distress me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"> Now we may gather with our King</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;">E'en in the lowliest dwelling;</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Praises to Him we there may bring,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">His wondrous mercy forthtelling.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Jesus His grace to us accords;</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Spirit and life are all His words;</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">His truth doth hallow the temple.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">These things all floated through my mind. And then I thought about my children. Sometimes I'm alarmed and frightened by the world they have to live in. The task of raising them up to live here seems impossible, and I pray for wisdom in that job every day.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Still we our earthly temples rear</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">That we may herald His praises;</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">They are the homes where He draws near</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">And little children embraces.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Beautiful things in them are said;</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">God there with us His covenant made,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Making us heirs of His kingdom.</span></div>
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Then I remembered <a href="http://www.tjed.org/2013/07/top-skill-weekly-mentor/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+ThomasJeffersonEducation+%28Thomas+Jefferson+Education%29">an article</a> I read the other day. This quote really struck me:</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">"I believe that when God sees the need for changes in the world, he does something really special. <em style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">He sends down a baby. </strong></em>A little person with just the right talents, tendencies, interests, passions, and strength of will to change the world. And in times like ours, well, I’m pretty sure He’s been sending down a bunch of babies like that."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white;">So here I've been, praying for changes and improvement in the things that bother and distress me. Certain matters have been heavy on my heart <i>for years</i>. And I'm not seeing any change. But I know that God doesn't work on my limited time-table. So here I'm praying and praying for change, and God sends babies. And a thought navigated through my mind as my fingers navigated the keyboard.</span></div>
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<i style="background-color: white;">Maybe I'm raising the solutions I've been praying for. Maybe they're right here, under my nose. The change I was asking for is already in my home.</i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Lord, let me not ruin this opportunity. Help me not loose this chance. Because that's all I'll do if left to myself and my own means.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Here stands the font before our eyes</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Telling how God did receive us;</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">The altar recalls Christ's sacrifice</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">And what His table doth give us;</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Here sounds the Word that doth proclaim</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Christ yesterday, today, the same,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Yea, and for aye our Redeemer.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"> Grant then, O God, where'er men roam,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">That, when the church-bells are ringing,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Many in saving faith may come</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Where Christ His message is bringing:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">"I know Mine own, Mine own know Me;</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Ye, not the world, My face shall see.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">My peace I leave with you." Amen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;">(The Lutheran Hymnal </span><span style="background-color: white;"> #467 Text: Eph. 2: 19-22 Author: Nicolai F.S. Grundtvig, 1837)</span></span></div>
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Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-66779416117000002452013-08-06T23:24:00.001-04:002013-08-06T23:24:36.262-04:00If You Carrot All For Me...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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...My dear, we cantaloupe, lettuce marry! </div>
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We are just having the most bountiful garden this year! <br />
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It's such a wonderful blessing, after a couple of dry, lean summers. </div>
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But if I think about it too much, I verge on a panic attack. There's just so much to do to get the harvest in AND take care of house and family. So I try not to think about it, take it one task at a time, and keep refocusing on enjoying the summer and my sweet, funny, little people. And fall into bed aching and well-tired at night.</div>
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I have to say, the garden is so much more enjoyable now that I have kids to enjoy it with.</div>
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They just love to be out with me in the garden. They're happy to work along side me, however helpful or not helpful that may be. It really is delightful (most of the time) to have them with me, so excited about everything they find. And it's just so much less intense and more peaceful <i>outside</i> than <i>inside</i>.</div>
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They're even more happy to eat all our pickings. The boys are just overjoyed at the nearly unlimited apples, carrots, cucumbers and green beans they get to eat these days. The other night at supper, I actually heard Nathan tell Evan to stop eating so many cucumbers and eat some on his main dish. What kind of crazy parents are we, anyway, that we have to tell our kids to STOP eating their vegetables? They could happily make a meal of sweet corn and fresh milk.<br />
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As tempting as it is for me to let them live on green beans and dropped apples, I realize that they actually need some protein from time to time, thus the panic attack when we come in from the garden at 6:18 and there is no supper yet.</div>
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And then there's this sweet little apple dumpling whom I can pretty much characterize as "negative helpful" but that's okay, we love her an awful lot anyway!<br />
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And lest you should (for some strange reason) think that all is perfect in paradise, here is a picture of my herb bed. Yeah, what herbs? I weeded it quite soundly a month ago. But then I got busy picking beans and making pickles, and when I turned around again, I couldn't find the herbs. It's pretty disgusting, and I need to stop thinking about it now before I have to go find a paper bag to breath into.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-41122735446972587002013-07-30T21:30:00.000-04:002013-07-30T21:30:09.765-04:00Blueberry Eyes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-11768448376189956882013-07-27T16:05:00.003-04:002013-07-27T16:08:30.388-04:00TenNathan and I celebrated our tenth anniversary yesterday! It felt like such a remarkable milestone, so we marked it with a little mini-vacation to the beach! And how appropriate to celebrate our first decade of marriage with our newest baby in tow. <br />
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What a sweet and blessed ten years it's been, and we pray for many more!Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-57679368881606099312013-07-10T21:53:00.001-04:002013-07-10T21:53:08.067-04:00Better Watch Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Imagine you're just lying around, minding your own business, looking cute, as usual.</div>
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When suddenly, out of nowhere...</div>
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You're attacked! By a sweaty, four-eyed, baby-eating giant!</div>
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But you're used to it. So it's okay.</div>
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<br />Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-3505030803352308022013-07-08T14:34:00.001-04:002013-07-08T14:34:48.151-04:00Ripe old age of 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Evan turned 3 yesterday!</div>
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Rather than buy Thomas the Tank Engine trains for the top of the cake (okay, I sorta forgot...), I sculpted trains. That's right, in the midst of a mile-long to-do list, I spent an afternoon making the train decorations out of peanut-butter dough. But you knoe what the say about all work and no play. It was kinda fun! And Evan loved having an edible train on his cake.<br />
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Of course, his little brother was right there the whole time because it's good to have help turning three.<br />
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His presents included a big set of construction trucks, which are wonderfully engrossing for all three boys and it's nice that there are plenty to go around. Hooray for less fighting!<br />
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(But boo for Mommy's bare feet that have already found a number of tiny construction cones.)<br />
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Three is a good age.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-89278161871633834972013-06-25T17:52:00.000-04:002013-06-25T17:53:29.567-04:00Maybe I was born with it...Today is has been a sun-shower day. One of those changeable days where the sky pours buckets, and then the sun comes out. It's glorious, but it turns my world into a hot steam-bath.<br />
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Also mind-bogglingly metaphorical for my life right now, but perhaps I'll save that perusal for another post.<br />
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We were able to work in the garden this morning in fits and starts according to the will of our tiny mistress who currently dictates our daily routine, or lack thereof. Yesterday, she was excessively demanding and needy, so today, I was just crazy to get out in the garden and move around according to my own will for a change. However, Eleanor still wouldn't stay asleep in her bed for any length of time. But whenever she was, or with her strapped to my chest in the baby carrier (hey, what's a little extra sweat?), we donned our boots and headed out into the sun and mud.<br />
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Ah, yes, it is challenging to maintain this level of high fashion.</div>
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Sometimes, pulling weeds can be so therapeutic. Most of the time, actually.<br />
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Andrew was entertained for at least a solid 15 minutes trekking back and forth between me and the chicken run, carrying little handfuls of weeds to feed the chickens. I was amazed at how cheerfully occupied he was, and I might have even been patting myself on the back a little for my mother-genius. Then I wasn't looking and he took his "help" in a different direction and pulled out eight cucumber plants.<br />
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Yesterday, Eleanor had a high-need day. (And I try to remind myself when I get frustrated that a <i>day</i> is nothing when compared with <i>months</i> of high-need I faced with the boys as newborns.) <br />
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I couldn't seem to set her down for even a minute without immediate crying, until I set her on the floor by the train track. She lay there quite happily for a good 10 minutes watching the little boys play. Silly mommy, she just wanted to see something different and have a little fun for a change.<br />
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Of course, I didn't dare get very far away from her for fear she'd be trampled in a toddler-brawl or something.<br />
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She really loves a good, tight swaddle, but it's been so hot that she quickly develops a heat rash, even with a very light swaddle blanket. So then I had another stroke of mother-genius:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP8YQ7uxRIwtqMOJbmkFvljlJ-BnLKS_8F4T1wh-9woa-diSf9kbHM_Tl0tM2bgAlo7IITGOT_uWoIEcGVmJLoLepykEWX-EsmiMmMCbpcXY8-dnb1PPqI_JQsK0XxkWixwJyc1eGho8/s1600/june13-112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP8YQ7uxRIwtqMOJbmkFvljlJ-BnLKS_8F4T1wh-9woa-diSf9kbHM_Tl0tM2bgAlo7IITGOT_uWoIEcGVmJLoLepykEWX-EsmiMmMCbpcXY8-dnb1PPqI_JQsK0XxkWixwJyc1eGho8/s640/june13-112.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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I just pulled her arms inside her onesie. It's not quite as good as a tight swaddle, but it has essentially the same effect and she calmed down quite a bit.<br />
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Nathan laughed when he saw her like that after he came home, but I just congratulated him on finding such a smart woman to be the mother of his children.<br />
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My other stroke of mother-genius (hey, I'm on a role, here) was yesterday when I <i>might have sort of</i> threatened Evan with No Birthday until he starts pooping in the toilet. I'm so fed up with the poopy underpants routine and I've tried every trick in the book to no avail. Desperate times, desperate measures, etc., so no birthday for you, kiddo. It was a risky deal, for sure. But he WANTS that cake. He was really into the idea, so I said, "Hey, if you poop in the toilet, I will march straight to the kitchen and bake you a cake no matter what day it is!" <br />
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So. Guess what we had today? CAKE. (Actually, brownies, but he doesn't know the difference.) That's right, he nonchalantly went into the bathroom and took care of business all by himself. Heck, he's probably just been waiting for me to "sweeten the deal" sufficiently. "M&M's?" he thought to himself, "Nah. I'm going to hold out for CAKE, baby." Everyone has their price.<br />
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And it's a price I'm certainly willing to pay. Hey, I got chocolate out of the deal, AND no poopy underpants. We skyped Grandma to tell her the news and made a BIG deal out of being a big boy now.<br />
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And now that I've bragged it up on the internet, I'll await my great cosmic smackdown tomorrow. Because every piece of mother-genius carries one.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390087221610436679.post-9125747117267775392013-06-21T15:30:00.005-04:002013-06-21T15:31:54.773-04:00Summer, Baby, Happy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's the first day of summer, and a lovely, perfect one at that. Not too hot, breezy, sunny, gorgeous. My three littles all napped at the same time while Jonah and I made 20 pints of strawberry jam. If all goes well, there will be ham and veggie quiche for supper and strawberry-rhubarb pie for dessert. It doesn't get much better than that. (Obviously, I am feeling considerably more alive and well this week!)</div>
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It also happens to be Eleanor Carolyn's one-month birthday! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPlDuvkaZzz0ZIdFya6NTxGyjTWn10bLbioZ4wimpgYl-5iyo2oruAJwOdWghj7h932hdb0N6rkWVgdnR0Gtk9wJly0vUr875iIlhOgclD3L1sGn12KkPlHlKuJcBaQDUPFmdIDYb8boI/s1600/june13-86-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPlDuvkaZzz0ZIdFya6NTxGyjTWn10bLbioZ4wimpgYl-5iyo2oruAJwOdWghj7h932hdb0N6rkWVgdnR0Gtk9wJly0vUr875iIlhOgclD3L1sGn12KkPlHlKuJcBaQDUPFmdIDYb8boI/s640/june13-86-2.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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She's sweeter than that strawberry jam, I tell ya what.Rosie_Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08363843512357526257noreply@blogger.com2