While You Were Out

So, my husband did not use a week free of wife and children to sleep or eat in peace or take long baths. Nope.

And while I found it kind of strange that our first evening back he practically nodded off into his dinner, I am selfishly glad, because LO:


Six months ago, the yard was full of scrap, the dumpster was here, and there was no chicken house! Now it's all empty! Even the ginormous burn pile is gone.

And:







THE PORCH IS PAINTED O-M-GEE Y'ALL.

Every morning I wake up, look outside, and feel an enormous sense of relief.

Since we're doing house improvement photos, this one is mine:




I painted the far wall of the living room to warm it up and purchased a rug. I really love this line (dash and albert cotton rugs)-- they are affordable, fit in my washing machine, and they're like a painting for the floor. We are looking for a wood stove and I am going to tile under it and then the living room will be cheery and cosy and beautiful.

So praise be to K.... our home has never looked better.

Not to mention the mown lawn, clean sheets, put-away laundry, cleaned-up nursery, outlet covers, installed heating covers, working windshield wipers, and installed fire alarms!

What a prince.

Home again, home again.

We won't even talk about the plane rides, or the lost wallet, or the poop-and-booger stains.

Because in between the bracket of traveling, we had a wonderful week in Virginia-- seeing family, feeding sheep, charming all and sundry.


I mean, come on:



Does it get cuter?

Grandpa might think so:





And Nonni won Annaliese's heart and mind with daily sheep-feeding trips. Baa-baas and tractors-- a winning combination-- not to mention the donkeys!



Go here for a full gallery.

Dispatch from Nonni's

At my mother's.

We have spent time with my father, my sister, my aunts and uncles, and we're going to see my grandfather today or tomorrow.

Annaliese has been working very hard to charm everyone in sight. She has drunk gallons of cider, fed sheep with her bare hands, and trotted along cheerfully doing farm chores with her Nonni. It's fair to say she is having a great time. Especially since her Nonni lets her watch Nick Junior at meal times, a luxury entirely unknown at our house.

Caspian is teething and growing like a fiend but remains fairly cheerful nonetheless.

And as for me? Well, it's hard being the solo parent, and I miss my sweetheart. But it's awful nice to be in the house where I grew up in the shadow of the Blue Ridge during apple season.

Pictures, of course, to follow.

On Friday, I turned 27.




K. made me a buttercream-and-rasberry-filled yellow cake for my birthday-- as well as the world's largest compost bin, which is super-exciting because not only can I now compost the grass clippings I scavenge from our neighbors, but the pile of scrap in our backyard is ever-decreasing!



There was a certain mention of it all being gone when I return home from VA....

Also, K and I got drunk (aka had two glass of wine each) and ate lobster. Then he opened the door and there was a toy poodle on its hind legs, begging with both front paws to come in!

He was obviously abandoned. Now he is quite clean and cute and I cannot stop marveling at how little bother he is-- no shedding, no vomiting thus far, and he's nice to Annaliese. We are not SURE we are keeping him, but he is going to vet on Friday. His name is Hercules.

(p.s. the steps are done but the porch floor is still just primed because it won't stop RAINING. ARG.)

We left the children with Miss Margaret on Saturday and went to Ole Miss for the Sedaris show, which was funny and adult and a neat thing for us to do. Then on Sunday we went to my farmer friend and bought 4 hens and received as a present three young succulent roosters, who are now in our freezer. (Caspian was watching from the Bjorn as I cut their heads off! He looked fascinated.)




So...lobster, a poodle, a gay comic, and chicken-killing. Even in the unending rain, we manage to have some fine times.

N.B. all photos taken on K's iPhone by him. Camera charger is in the clutches of the increasingly elusive USPS.

yay Obama!

He might have earned it... but in my opinion, he deserves it.

I love our President.

tractor show

So, the new camera battery is on its way. These pics are from our town reporter, and a little article with pics can be seen at y a l n e w s . c o m and I am hoping the spacing will prevent them from finding this, as I prefer my neighbors not to know about my blog...

It was a fair and sunny day, a rarity here lately. When I arrived at the park 45 minutes til market, there was 1 vendor and no tractors to be seen.


An hour later...

We had 13 vendors, ranging from wild-caught Gulf shrimp to local unhomogenized milk in old-fashioned glass bottles to dressed quail to pumpkins to fresh bread to produce and fried pies and crafts and... not bad for a town of 3500!









Not to mention 10 antique tractors that were all so loved that they looked brand-new. Next year I am going to do an Ugliest Tractor contest to get some variety.




The tractors were a huge hit with the kids though-- every child there sat on every tractor, delighting their parents and the tractor owners, who tend to be elderly men who get a bit giddy at the sight of their beloved bringing pleasure to small children.

We had some live music, a potluck party table, and a fair amount of customers.

(annaliese very somberly learning the harmonica)

I can only hope everyone had as much fun as I did.

--notes on the tractor show later--

but for now, it's a rainy Sunday and I am on Day One of Trying Not to Be A Fatty and what is K doing?

Three loaves, twelve muffins, and two scone-shaped masses of banana bread; twenty-four peanut-butter-chocolate chip cookies; two pumpkin pies, one cream pie, and the dough for the molasses cookies is chilling in the fridge.

I hate him.

On Sleep with Boring Parent Logistics

First, I'd like to say that after reading about fourteen books about babies and sleeping, all I have to say is that I am in no way an expert, but all the experts disagree with each other.

Annaliese was a rotten sleeper. At nearly two years of age she's better, but it still takes a long time and generally some tears for her to fall asleep, it's pretty common for her to cry out in the night (though she settles herself down most times), and though I hear rumors that her nap at school is over 2 hours, it sure ain't that way at home on the weekends.

Caspian is much easier to GET to sleep-- he doesn't fight it like Annaliese did. We have a quasi-schedule going, which some days works like a charm and other days seems to exist only in my head. But he still wakes 2-4 times between 7pm and 7am to nurse, fart, and burp. It's not always clear WHAT is waking him up, but it's always one of the other (hunger or gas).

I have contemplated the crying-it-out thing-- because after nearly two years of having about 20 nights where a child didn't wake me up, I'm getting pretty heartless-- but that method seems to be for babies who won't go to sleep rather than babies who conk out just fine but then wake up.

I get that 12 hours is a long stretch for a wee monster like mine. I don't mind doing a night feeding. That being said, getting up once is a whole lot different than 4 times, which has been the norm here as of late.

So what to do? How do I get my sweet ravenous and belchy little boy to stock up, sleep, eat, burp, and sleep again? Should I feed him once and then let him cry?

(the real kicker is that formula seems to make him gassier -- which I think is actually the bottle's fault, cos he swallows more air especially with tired parents holding it-- but breastmilk is kind of like a box of raisins-- tides him over but not for long).

Thoughts are appreciated. I swear that being a parent would be peachy keen if I could just have 8pm to dawn full of silent, sleeping children.

Oh, and ALSO...

He's totally outgrowing the bassinet, Annaliese is totally unable to fall asleep in a bed that she can get out of, and so right now he's sleeping swaddled on the guest bed. Should we suck it p, abandon the guest room idea, and stick a crib in there? Should Annaliese suck it up and get her brother in her room? Either way he needs to have a defined place of his own, I feel...

Annaliese has three aunts.

This one is K's younger sister-- taken on our VT trip. Cuteness, c'est vrai?

In case you were wondering

It's been a week! Man.

We had a cranky weekend which ended up with everyone getting a cold on Sunday. K's home today-- he is the worst off, naturally-- and we've been trying hard to be kind to each other and rotating extra nap time.

Which we need, because Caspian slept NINE hours in a row one night last week, sending my hopes soaring, and then...

He started teething.

TEETHING!

Several five-wakes-per-nights later, he's got two teeth on the bottom all busted through. Which is NUTS, folks. He's not even four months old. He can't roll over. He can't sit up. But he's got teeth, and he's been eyeing our plates very intently.

We had an oatmeal experiment which was ok but we need to get a food mill (Annaliese's broke) before we commence mush-feeding in earnest.

The last farmers' market is this Saturday. It is a Farmers' Market Fiesta & Antique Tractor Show, meaning I've been doing more work than usual, there's going to be a potluck and hopefully some live music, and one of my farmer buddies is bringing something like ten pre-1970s tractors to line the road next to the market.

Hopefully, a big time. We're going to have more fresh local dairy and a guy selling dressed quail and pickled quail eggs and FINALLY a local honey vendor.

The idea is to go out with a bang.

But Caspian's ready for a nap, and frankly, what with the cold and the last couple of nights, I am too.

Since we still don't have new pics

Look at this one! That's K, about 26 years ago.



Distinct resemblence to the one on the left, eh?



Caspian, on the other hand, looks like me. YES HE DOES.

K, anniversary, four years!

Our four-year-anniversary was Friday, and so K and I got gussied up, left the kids at home, and went walking down to Main Street where we went on our town's first ever Art Crawl, starting at a gallery and then going to five artists' studios on foot. There were cookies and wine at each stop and K and I are friends with all the artists anyhow so it was very informal and very fun. We went to the local tavern afterwards, along with everyone else, and K had a beer ontop of the two glasses of wine and started FREAKING out about a tall skinny girl playing darts, saying "where are her thighs! Look at them, she doesn't have any!" At one point he leaned over and said, "Do you think I should go ask her where they went?"

Which was very, very funny. He is so silly when he has a few. I love this about him.

What I do NOT love is that he has lost our camera's spare battery AND charger, so the grandmothers are jonesing for their kid fix in vain.

But a friend with a camera took our picture Friday night. So here we are, four years in, along with a random reporter guy:


Best decision of my life.

All I know is K. tells me I can't say "Girlfriend wants to get PAID" anymore.

Alright first I would like to tell everyone that I do not want to talk about this on the phone, this is it, this is the conversation, I don't want to hear your side.

Heh.

About six weeks ago I was holding Caspian and it was a humid night and K. and I sat on the porch swing and swung and talked. The baby fell asleep I guess because I don't remember anything about him in the conversation; it was all about me.

At some point he asked me what I did every day that I wanted to do.

And I thought about my days that are full of doing what has to be done (especially at that time, with a six-week-old!) and I couldn't really give him an answer beyond take a bath? Make a nice sandwich for lunch?

That threw me into a big tailspin. I've spent time since then deciding that come next summer, when Caspian is one, I am going to

1. Have two books written that are way better than the ones I've already finished and are much more me! and ready to publish!

2. Give up on writing fiction because it just simply never comes out like I want it to and ends up being this gigantic chore of drudgery with stale characters and flat settings and Oh-My-Lord, it took an hour to write a paragraph which sucks anyhow. SO I will write about things I like! Like my life, and chickens, and babies!

3. Give up on writing about my life, and chickens, and babies, because everyone is already doing this and I hate twitter and the quasi-self-sustainable bandwagon is so very full and Oh MY God, all people do is talk about themselves and how they figured everything out and it's revolting! So I should write superfun fiction! With superfun characters who have crazy out there lives and do all sorts of cool things!

4. Stab myself in the eye.

5. Give up on writing entirely, okay maybe not entirely, but relegate it to the back burner and open a grocery store! Because MY LORD I hate driving to Oxford to get Brown Dairy's milk and I already know all these farmers and it will cost at least 100k in start-up money and so what if we want to move to Europe in one-to-three years? We already have a building and I HAVE GOT TO HAVE A CAREER.

6. Stab myself in other eye.

7. Rinse and repeat.

I wish I had a conclusion for you but I don't. Other than I am out of eyes.

A wee ode

Caspian is such a CUTE BABY!
He's starting to giggle when you tickle him. He is watching everything, including forks to mouths-- (have a hunch that he won't make it to 6 months without solids, the boy is a horse. He's three months old and pretty comfortable in 9 month outfits, with the occasional 6month and 12 month (!) as well.)

He likes his sister. He likes his parents. He likes the sound of his own voice, and getting changed, and baths, and his mobile, and his pacifier, and the hanging stuffed animals on his playmat.

He is so very different from Annaliese already; I used to say that she came into this world suspicious, and you had to convince her that everything was alright, that she was fine. Caspian just assumes this.

His eyes are going to be brown. His ears stick out just like mine. He has delicious fat thighs and a big round belly and after three months of adjustment and waiting and recovery, we are all glad that he is here.

To Vermont and Back

Some technical difficulties with my creaky old Mac, but in the meantime, a few pictures....

Four flights, two kids. Annaliese hellbent on walking everywhere, waving :"HI!" to all who passed. She is definitely a smalltown kid; no one is a stranger.

Caspian, on the other hand, turned the fussiness up a few notches and conserved his poo to once-a-day blowouts at seven am. He was very happy to come home-- literally was carried inside and instateneously got a ginormous smile on his face. He is also pooing several times a day now, per usual.

And as for K and I-- well. Vacations aren't really vacations anymore. But we did get to sleep until 11am on Labor Day, thanks to his mom, and in between the logistics of carting kids around Vermont, we had a pretty good time. Ate some cheese. Hung out with his sisters. And most importantly:

I'd like to say we took Annaliese to Shelburne Farms for her benefit, but let's not kid myself. It was for me. And boy did Mama have a good time at the farm.

The cabin was really, really nice. Annaliese and I spent a pleasant half-hour hanging over the bank of Frog Pond, counting tadpoles and watching dragonflies. And K. walked around looking all sexy, which is always nice.
I, on the other hand, did strange things with Annaliese' hairclips as I sat next to the pond and waited for the fire under our outside clawfoot bathtub (oh yeah we did) to heat up the water. Good thing K. thinks I'm cute, even laden with our offspring.

In our absence, a coffee shop opened on Main Street! And we're having an Art Crawl next Friday! This place is just getting too cool.

It's nice to be home :)

A great weekend.

Began with a fab dinner here; ended with an evening here.












In between: Farmers' Market (which seems to be waning, actually, and causing me some concern); 90% of the porch trim painted; the bathroom trim finished; pancakes and an extra nap; grilled shrimp and zucchini.

We go to Vermont on Wednesday.

Somehow, a long exhale

We've had 5+ weeks of houseguests in the last 3 months. Mostly, this has been a good thing, because it is great to have people do this:





aka hold the baby.

But fyi, no more for now-- even though Eliza is a rock star and didn't mind getting up at the crack of dawn; even though Dad washed dishes and took the dogs for walks. Even though we love you all. We need at least three months of peaceful weekends and plenty of pajama time to recuperate--especially since WE'RE traveling in September and October.

We are still beginning to come together as a family of four, and sometimes-- it has been this week, anyway-- it is delightful.

Annaliese came down with a nasty chest/cough/cold bug on Sunday. We were grilling at the lake with my family, and I could see her becoming sicker and sicker until on the way home, she was pale and slumped in her car seat, snot running out of her nose.

Talk about making me feel like a lousy mother.

She has stayed home from school all week (though she is much better now and could probably go back) but we have opted to keep her out this week and the next-- when we go to VT-- which means she'll not return until the 10th.

She's glad to be home. In general, our little girl is a social butterfly, but there have been some big changes here lately and I think the adrenaline has faded for us all; now we're just ready to settle down. So I've been home all week with my two babies, wiping snotty noses and poopy bottoms and somehow managing to love it.



I was not ready to handle the two of them on my own for extended periods of time before now, but I am very proud of how I can now. Today I even trapped Caspian onto me in the Bjorn and popped Annaliese in the stroller and walked down Main Street to the drugstore, where I bought my little girl a chocolate ice cream in a cup and watched her smear it all over her snotty little face. She deserves it. The kid said table today; she's talking up a storm. I can now ask her if she's hungry or thirsty or if she wants raisins or blueberries and she will shake or nod her head and say "Pease" when I tell her to ask politely.

K. and I woke up and found ourselves out of the rocky place, which is fantastic. Always amazing to remember how much we like each other at the bottom of all the bills and the babies and the whatnots. We're even going to dinner tomorrow night; one of my Farmers' Market vendors is a very Christian teacher and one of 10; she regularly looks after her brother's 9 children; I think she'll be fine. Annaliese probably won't find her as glamorous as her old teenage babysitter, but here's to hoping she's more reliable.

Sadly, no one is sleeping more. Caspian is holding steady at 2 feedings per night but Annaliese has not slept without coughing and crying in over a week. Saturday she sobbed for about an hour in our arms, our bed, her crib; we couldn't get her to calm down. (In retrospect: too much of a big day and the illness coming on).

We have 7 chicks and 3 mama hens who are competing for the said chicks. We also basically killed one of our hens by accident. More on that later; the affair of the chickens is kind of in flux with the new arrivals and our system is currently sort of limping along. I need pics of the fuzzballs though; don't have any.

Tea and book and bed time.

Goodnight all.

My sister and my dad are arriving tonight.

This is big news, as Eliza has been in Australia and Shanghai and Dad has never been to Mississippi since we moved here.

Pics to come!

-----

It has been a sad week in our town. A toddler who had wandered onto the busy road in front of her house got hit by a truck. The driver of the truck is recently widowed and was so upset he had to be sedated. K. had a very scary incident with our truck, and was towed home on his way back from Detroit. The lady in charge of the baby's room at Annaliese's play school found out yesterday that her Hodgkins Lymphoma is back.

More reminders that life can change irrevocably in an instant and that no blessing can be taken for granted.

Brace Yourselves

All four of Annaliese's eyeteeth are coming in and she's having a tough time. Snot. Cough. Rash. Short naps and staccato nights. There have been no subsequent big-girl-bed nights or potty pees, though she did deliberately pee in the dog dish yesterday.

Caspian is waking up to the world around him and proving to be a good-natured cutie pie who likes pink elephants.



I took pics of the farmers yesterday for our webpage. The market is going well, but I'll admit that it's kind of hectic this year. I spend more time policing my kids than shooting the breeze, and that's never fun.

Here are two-- the first is Annaliese's surrogate grandpa and good friend, the second a rather random character who cuts lawns and sells blueberries. He has a fantastically southern Gothic name, but I probably shouldn't put that in the Internet.








The weather is holding steady at hot. I've done a lot of dishes.

There, that bland enough for you?

I never really intended for this blog to be read by my mother-in-law, my aunts, my mom's friends, and Lord knows who else. I try not to think about it, because if this blog becomes a place for me to post pics of my kids and lie about how great everything is going, then it becomes a chore.

Instead I think of it more as sort of random outbursts about whatever is on my mind, good and bad, cuss words and all, which only imaginary people read. Oh. And pictures of my kids.

So, now that we've sorted the imaginary non-judgemental people from those who are closing their browsers and will wait for my annual Christmas card...

K. and I have been having a tough time lately.

Gasp.

I know, we're only the World's Most Fated Couple, but throw romantic soul-mates together along with two kids under two, incontinent and flea-ridden dogs, bills, renovation projects, and-- as always-- too little sleep and pretty much zero time together, even WE descend into higher levels of snarkiness, hurt feelings, and general sniping over Who's Doing More.

(By the way, I WIN. BECAUSE BUSINESS TRIPS = VACATION AND SO DOES WORK. Any time you can excuse yourself to go to the bathroom means that you're in the lap of luxury.)

(Just kidding, honey.)

I know why we're snarky-- like, duh!-- and I know things will get easier as the kids sleep more and blah blah blah. I mean, we haven't left kids for so much as an hour with anyone else in over a month, and by the time they're asleep, we're ready to collapse too. it's what they call a wearing situation.

(This Situation Will Change, by the by. We're just saving our pennies for our vacation later this month to Vermont. When we get back and all the freaking insurance premium checks have cleared we're instituting date night, like every other boring-but-still-married couple out there. Cos I love him so and we're staying married forever.)

______________


In other news, K. cleaned Boatie til she gleams and fixed the motor mounts so that the hood doesn't vibrate at an idle.

Boatie, for those who haven't met her, is my navy-blue 24-year-old Diesel Mercedes station wagon. I really, really love her. Even if her radio and AC doesn't work and her cruise control tries valiantly but pretty much is useless.

I love her. She is my dream car. And the fact that she's got two car-seats in the back doesn't detract from her overall coolness one whit. I keep the windows down, my shades on, and purr along through town five miles below the speed limit, because she's just that kind of car.

Plus she feels kind of whacked out and confused at high speeds.

Someone asked me the other day how her pick-up was, and I, confused, said "fine?"

"No, I mean can you pass people?"

I snorted. "Pass people? I don't pass people. People pass ME."

I've had cars I liked before-- my Subaru comes to mind-- but man, do I feel like one hot-ass mom driving around in Boatie. Go figure. K likes to laugh, shake his head, and say-- "she really is the perfect car for you."

Plus, despite the fact we've spent more than her purchase price on various things and flibber-gibbits (ask K for the technical details, all I know is she doesn't whine at high speeds anymore but I still don't have AC), she's still coming in at under 5k.

____________________

K. is going to Detroit tomorrow. He will miss two dinner/bath/bedtime madnesses. I am jealous of this.

____________________

The skeeters are really bad?

We accidentally hard-boiled an egg that had a half-way-formed baby chicken in it?

We took both kids to a restaurant for lunch after church today and there was minimal tears but disappointing food?

That's the word folks. Hope all you imaginary people are having fine weekends.

I am still twenty-six (despite what I told the Indian man at the Shell station, who then assured me that I looked too young to have two kids! Hah!) and so occasionally I think about what my peers are doing.

For some inexplicable reason, V. and J. (Vinnie+: yeah, you know these people) especially cross my mind of late, probably because my mom sees them all the time and tells me things like "J is so great! You would totally be friends!" and "V. is back from touring Europe!" and I'm all like, so how long have they been engaged? Because IT IS TIME TO BUCKLE DOWN, young hooligans. Get married and procreate so I don't have to think about how you two SLEEP IN and then EAT BREAKFAST without a toddler on your lap and there is No Chance of Anyone Going to Europe Ever, Ever Again.

And the I think about whether or not K. and I should have waited to have kids until we were in our 30s. And then I think: No. Because holy poopy, are we going to be young and fit when our kids get out of the house. And it took us about ten minutes to get pregnant, and I really would not have coped with infertility at all well, and your body bounces back quicker when you're younger, and, and...

and, well, I really do love my kids. Plus they've made me into the person I have always wanted to be: at ease with small children (before I was a mom, they made me inadequate and uncomfortable-feeling, now I'm all like Joey Adams! You need a tissue, honey?) as well as comfortable sending food back on the rare occasion I eat out.

It's interesting, how much validation we all need for our choices. Home Birthers! Attachment Parenting! Ferberize! Have a career first! Live together Befor Marriage! Get divorced! Get married! Get a masters degree!

When what we're really saying is--

this is what I did

and

what I did was/is right (right?)

Big-girl Beds and Potty Time...oh My

This afternoon the children were like Jack-in-the-Boxes; as soon as we got one settled, the other popped up.

I am very tired these days. Not that Caspian's schedule is so onerous (he's up at 1-ish, 4-ish, and then the entire household rises at dawn)-- it is more that I go to bed waiting to be woken up. I am on call at almost all times, and after two-plus months... it's getting to me.

I remind myself to be patient. That kids are not static, that this is not my life forever. To enjoy the soft fuzz of his head and his funny little coos and the way his dirtiest diapers don't really smell bad, unless you have a strong aversion to buttermilk.

That being said, I sure would like to go out for a long dinner with K. and come home late, knowing nothing and no one would wake me up.

Maybe for our FIFTH anniversary:) The fourth is rolling towards us, Sept. 18th, and since I am a girl who loves anniversaries and birthdays and Christmases I am quite excited. Four years! Whoa! I remember on our honeymoon people would ask how long we'd been married and we'd stammer, "nine days," or whatever. Four years is quite respectable sounding.

Enough of my complaining and yammering and now for the big news:

Annaliese slept twice this week all night long in her big-girl bed. Good news for Caspian, who is rapidly outgrowing the bassinet; maybe in another two months both my babies will be sleeping in the nursery, Annaliese in her bed, Caspian in the crib, ALL NIGHT LONG. HINT. HINT.

AND:

Today, Annaliese peed twice in her potty.

The parents out there know how very impressive this is, and no doubt will want the FULL GORY DETAILS.

No, you need not insist. I'll spill.

We were lounging around in bed this afternoon after the whole Failed Nap Experiment and Annaliese was naked, mainly because the outfit she'd had on at the Farmers' Market was trashed-- sweaty and mulchy from the great magnolia tree.

She made a face I know all too well and we looked down to see a small spot of pee on our white comforter (which come to think of it, is still on the bed. Hmm. Tomorrow.)

"Annaliese," said I, because I work hard to be laissez-faire (sp?) about toddler mess, "if you have to go pee, go to your potty."

Off hopped Annaliese to the bathroom. I heard the seat of her potty clink, and then there was silence. K. and I kept talking about whatever and then Annaliese appeared in the doorway.

"Bee-bee?" she said, because she can't say her Ps yet.

So we rose and lo and behold, a small neat amount of pee in her potty. We clapped and then poured it in the big toilet, and waved "bye bye" as we flushed it away.

About two hours later, after her snack, we were having communal bathroom time and Annaliese sat on her potty and peed once more!

We are very impressed with our little girl.

I'm not rushing off to buy her first set of panties, but wow, people... my baby's such a little rock star.

Have a happy Sunday!

Annaliese in the sink this Saturday

I have been trying to write a post for quite awhile and since the baby is currently crying and Annaliese is hugging her pink blanket covered in chicken poop (don't ask) and crying No, Mama, No, whenever I try to lead her to the washing machine...

there will be no related post.

Not sure folks have seen the fab new shelving K built two weeks ago.



The living room is coming together. No more trash bags on the floor, anywhere!



We took a self-family-portrait too. This involves me positioning the camera, setting the timer, and running like a maniac while we try to entice Annaliese to look at the blinking orange light and not crazy Mama.

Amazingly, we were successful:



So what if the eldest has no clothes on? Shoes are what matter.