Yikes!

She was upset that I asked her to smile....can you imgine what happens when I ask her to clean her room?

Here's your chance to wine and complain.....pout with the rest of us at iheartfaces.com

Where I Live

Last night at 2 am as I was emptying my bed of stray kiddos I glanced out the window and saw the snow piling up. Snow is something we have not had enough of this year, and seeing it's wet blanket covering our lawn and pulling down green tinted branches makes everything seem right again. I took a million pictures, but here's one....maybe two...or three.

Rosebud II

I know shadows across the face are frowned on, but I love this picture anyway. Beautiful day, beautiful girl, beautiful moment.

No flash, plain and simple.

Give your best shot at iheartfaces.com

Literary Travels

In search of new information, perspective and guidance, the words pull me in and almost without thought, away I go, tumbling along on an another journey. Always itching for a new road trip My "cursing knitting book" , my composting manual and "Organic Farming" are well traveled friends. When I'm feeling a little agoraphobic, "No Doubt About It" always gives me a needed kick to get out the door. "Finding Peace, Happiness and Joy" has been an excellent road map, and with "Christ and the New Covenant" I discover overlooked trails along the familiar route of His Word.

Recently I have felt an uncontrollable itch for a new road trip across some fictional territory. Guilt of the time it necessitates wouldn't give in, so I succumbed and went audio. At first it felt like cheating, but with seemingly little effort, my house is a lot cleaner. So with neatly packed bags but no set travel plans, I am a mp3 vagabond.

One of my favorite wanderings has been through the novels of Jane Austen. Her "food for rambling fancy" would have made enjoyable reading, but traversing them with someone speaking a delightful English accent was also amusing. After a short but intense pit stop with "Not for Sale" (still pondering how to post about that one), I'm back on the road with Jane Eyre because the best books and excursions are free.

A quick jaunt or in depth pilgrimage...whatever your traveling style, saunter over to Chocolateonmycranium for some new ideas.

Potty Training....Can You Feel It?

I lift him up to set him on the training seat and he swings his foot up, before I can react, he puts it down inside, toes splashing the water. I pull him up and the seat goes flying as he kicks it with his wet foot. Hanging on to him with one hand, I readjust the training seat on the toilet. Despite his protest, I know he needs to go; a sippy cup full of juice will not stay in a two year old body for longer than 30 minutes....at least not my two year old. I finally get the correct body part on the seat and squat down in front of him as he is squirms to get away.

"Candy?" I ask, desperately bribing.

"No, candy!"

"Chocolate?"

His body relaxes as he softly repeats the word. That's my boy. Two seconds later we celebrate the sweet sound of tinkle in the potty.

Don't get me wrong, I am a pretty laid back kind of mama, but after two weeks of dripping underpants and suspicious puddles, I wasn't about to let all our hard work not get flushed down the toilet.

That's what it is, hard work.

Work that is worth every minute when I can cross diapers off my grocery list for good, not to mention changing and disposing of the stinky ones. To be completely honest, what I have really enjoyed is the work itself; working with my boy for the independence that we both want. Each conversation, and cleanup, each accident and celebration; each moment is ours.

That, I love.

Nothing is one sided. Weaved in with the satisfaction of learning together, is the lamenting of the loss of my little one. Oh, I know there is a lot of sweet cuddly left, but this morning as I rocked him in the early darkness, feeling his weight against my chest, I leaned in, smelling his sweet breath. I closed my eyes and let it all settle in......deep down, tucking it away with tiny toes, early morning feedings, fingers grasped around my own, and newness that will never get old.

Not wishing it away, and not wishing it back....just content and grateful for every moment and all the blessings it brings.

We feel, and so we are....who were you this week?

Cropped

That thoughtless comment, yesterday's burned dinner, the forgotten meeting.....how nice it would be to just crop them out of existence.

Instead, I must be satisfied with cropping my photos for this weeks contest at iheartfaces.

I love the boyish expression on Hup's face....

kids entry

I don't love his stinky sock in the middle of the picture.



I love the contrast of their eyes...

adults entry

I don't love not being able to see their eyes...

What will you crop away?
Join the fun at iheartfaces.com

Can You Feel It?

Reading the histories of my grandparents always leaves me in awe, but the stories that I love the best are the ones that go beyond the facts and share the feelings. I find strength in reading that these people whose blood runs in my veins didn't just stoically live day to day, but laughed, and cried, they felt pain in disappointments and joy in success, they had fears and searched for comfort with faith.

For example, my great grandma could make some seriously wonderful bread. This is a fact I have heard repeated several times from those who had a chance to feast on her sustenance, but it wasn't until I read this account that I really felt the sacrifice.

"We all remember her wonderful bread. It was freshly baked when we got home from school. When most of us were home she baked 15 loaves three times a week. And usually she made some scones or cinnamon rolls with some of the dough. Each batch took about thirty cups of flour and was mixed in a big hand turned bread mixer. I was like a big bucket with a crank on top and a dough kneader extending down into the bucket. The kneader and crank were attached through a cross-brace, which fit across the top of the bucket. When the family was in school Dad would turn the bread-mixer. It was a good workout for his muscles. On evening when the hungry tribe ate seven loaves of fresh bread for supper, mother quietly went to the next room and cried."

I have never taken a homemade loaf of bread for granted again....or my great grandma.


I know there are many of us who go quietly into the next room and cry; or on better days, we laugh out loud even though there is no one there to hear.

We feel and so we are....who were you this week?

Authentic

Ode to Reading

For me it was simple, so simple you see.
I was bored out of my mind,
so I started to read.


I read through the novels stacked on the shelf,
And learned to enjoy
in spite of myself


Adventure and romance, even history.
I even found one
'bout the birds and the bees.

Little House on the Prairie, I read them all
Hiding away in a corner,
ignoring Mom's call.


Seven years in Hanoi, I read through tears,
Still angered and amazed
after all these years.

Charly, Sam and so many other names,
Jack Weyland was good
for my adolescent brain.

I was bribed to read scriptures, but then in the end
learned to love one another
and be a fisher of men.

Now that I'm grown, with kids of my own
I'm ever so grateful for
seeds that were sown.

My greatest joy now is to vocally read
every night to my kiddies
to plant a new seed.

Piggies and Parts and Huckleberry Finn
hunting dogs and Skippy,
just to begin.


Pigs eating pancakes, a princess in boots,
searching Treasure Island
looking for loot.


Bed Bouncers, Black Beauty, and the BFG
Pickle Chiffon Pie
and the Giving Tree.


The list is so long, getting longer each day
'caus taking time to read
will always pay.



What's your reading story?
Wordfull Wednesday~Chocolate On My Cranium

Acceptance of my essence

The little ones have been sick all week, but still, when I woke up this morning feeling sore that thought didn't even cross my mind. "I must have worked out harder than I thought yesterday"...and "I really need to get some sleep," justified away the warnings.

When I started to sneeze this afternoon I cursed the warm weather for bringing allergies so strong and so soon.

When I almost fell asleep reading to my son, it finally clicked. Somewhere in the groggy story land I stumbled past denial and realized I was sick.

Bummer.

Too late to call Dad...what was that home remedy? Gargling cayenne and vinegar or was it eating raw garlic? It must be the garlic.

Five cloves and two pieces of bread later, I sit here letting it all soak in. Lucky for my husband he's working tonight. Lucky for you my essence can't travel through html codes. Will I be so lucky as to be cleansed by tomorrow afternoon for parent teacher conference?

Pool Party? Come on in!

I redid my blog.

I know, nothing major, but I wanted it to express more of my original intent; the original push to dive into the blog pool. To always be present in my life; a player instead of a spectator, this is my lofty ideal. To feel whatever this moment has to offer is my goal; to learn from it and share it is why I blog.


I believe there is strength in numbers, so I want to hear from you. This Friday I will be hosting "Feelin' It Fridays" (sorry about the alliteration, I couldn't help myself). Won't you stop by and and share a little of what keeps you in the moment, what keeps it real. I think we can do more than just get our feet wet...I'd love to see some swan dives, and laugh at some cannon balls. I would thrill at a back flip and feel the pain of a belly flop. Whatever your style of expression, photos, words, recipe....come on in, the water is fine! (Skinny dippers be warned...this is a family pool :D)