Beauty in the shadows

If I were a critic, I would say the light was far too harsh yesterday afternoon. The sun's rays created blunt shadows where there should have been soft lines. Although the critical part of me still analyzes every part of every photo I take, the mother in me sees the beauty.

Mandy loves this toy of Emma's. It is a magnetic set of shapes that we bought for Emma thinking it would keep her entertained for hours on the plane ride to Africa last year. Already Mandy has enjoyed it more than Emma ever did. She pulls the magnets apart and puts them back together, crawls around with her wand/ball and does it again.

Yesterday we enjoyed the sunshine and I taught Emma to play Simon Says. She can obey quickly when she thinks it is a game.

Mandy enjoyed the sunshine too. Her greatest loves in life include crawling after her sister, playing in dirt, chasing the kitten, and playing in dirt. Really, she would be satisfied to watch her sister run and the kitten play as long as there was a nice pile of dirt to dig through and eat. Her mommy now has a close relationship with Oxy and Spray n' Wash.

Emma had a sucker from the parade that she was guarding closely. I am going to make that candy last until the end of time. I don't exactly bribe Emma with candy, it is more like a reward system. Whatever the strategy, candy is a strong motivator.

That's a yummy sucker. She actually stopped sucking it and wanted to save it to show Daddy when he got home. She said, "I don't want Daddy to eat it. I just want him to see it." It is still sitting half devoured on the window sill in the kitchen. It is no wonder I have trouble with clutter in my house.

Cheese.

So, that is our afternoon in the sunshine. Harsh shadows aside, we had a wonderful time.

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How to dye a gigantic rug...

My living room makeover continues. I bought fabric for new curtains and a bit for new pillows as well. My budget remains rediculously small, but I like a challenge. What I also like is Cost Plus World Market. I found the perfect rug there for $250, but alas, my budget is $100, so I left it at the store. I have a perfectly functional rug, but it looks nasty. It is 7x10ft. and cream, almost white. A giant cream rug seemed like such a good idea in DINK land (double income no kids). Now, covered in stains that won't come out, I am ready for a new rug.

Enter Rit dye: It was $1.83 a box and I got 3 because I had no idea how much dye was needed for a gigantic cream rug.

I decided to try and dye the giant cream rug a dark chocolate brown, similar to the one I saw at Cost Plus. The challenge was that the rug weighs about 40 pounds dry, so submerging it into dye wasn't an option unless I had a crane to lift it out after I was done. Option B, although unorthodox,  was to put the rug on a tarp and apply the dye to one side of the rug and then the other with a sprayer. A weed sprayer filled with hot chocolate brown Rit dye, to be exact.

I poured the dye into the sprayer with my children as my captive witnesses and my husband taking pictures really hoping that I wouldn't completely ruin our good cream rug and then beg for the $250 one.

This is Mandy, the other captive witness of mommy's dye experiment.

Here goes nothing...

The color sprayed on just fine.

Enter the kitten:

The cat has been wanting to be a brunette.

Oh, don't panic, I resisted temptation. It was very tempting though. I really wanted to dye the cat. The dye process is rather adictive.
I wonder if this would work for a spray on tan?

Almost done. I ended up doing 2 coats of sprayed on dye before I reached the right color, but I am happy with the results. As I slowly but surely finish my room makeover, I will post pictures. Stay tuned to see the finished $5.49 rug.

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Saturday's busyness

Saturday was a fun/full busy day that reminded me I like the slower pace of my normal farm life. I walked in the old Crazy Days Parade to publicize MOPS. Walking in the parade is one of my least favorite things to do with half of Dallas waving and staring at me. I guess they aren't all waving and staring just at me, there are others walking in our MOPS group, but it feels like it is all directed at me. I am an introvert and would rather be home reading a book about people who walk in parades. Actually, that sounds really boring. I will be home reading a book about something else instead.

The worst part about parades is all the friendly people waving. I know quite a lot of people in town since I grew up there. People call my name and I scan the crowd with a puzzled look trying to find the friendly face. The look on my face says, "I hear my name, but don't know who said it? Who is calling my name? I can't see you." I told myself that this year would be different. This year I would just smile and wave and hand out my flyers. If people called, I would just wave and not look at the crowd searchingly. I would not embarrass myself.

"I hear my name, but don't know who said it? Who is calling my name? I can't see you." Over and over again this look came over my face. While my brain said, "Smile and wave. Smile and wave." It did not help. I don't like walking in parades.

After the parade, I went to an open house for a friend who recently moved. It is quite a ways out of town and the driveway goes up and up. I chugged up the hill watching my gas gage plummet to E and then I arrived at this view:

The view is phenomenal. Truly worth the trip and I can defiantly tell why they bought the house. Even if it has a pink sunken tub, it has this view.

I drove in to Salem for a photo session that has been a long time in the making. There were 6 families, 10 kids (ages 1 to 5), and a huge Latino family reunion going on at the scheduled location of the photo shoot. A few cell phone calls (6 actually) and everyone changed locations and I was able to capture the 10 kiddos looking darling.

Thank you so much to Kelly (who watched Mandy during the parade) and John (who watched Emma during the parade) and Janice (who watched both girls so I could do my photography). You made my life so much easier on a really busy day. Thank you!

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the choice is yours

This is my beautiful girl, Emmaleigh. As I've said before, she was and is my first real challenge and my first glimpse at God's amazing love. She has many awesome characteristics and gives me joy, but that is not the topic of this post.

Deep at the core of Emma dwells an incredibly strong will. I started to see it shortly after she turned 1 year old. She responds to discipline with disdain. I've often thought that our battles would be the end of my sanity. Then I remember the stories of my own willful childhood, say a prayer of thanks for my wonderful mother and delve in for another round.

Since Emma turned 3, her reasoning is better and she chooses to obey more often. I love it. Oh, I love it. I love obedience. I should make a t-shirt that says, "I love obedience." She is a delightful girl that I enjoy very much.

Of course we still have battles. Some of the issues, I recently realized, are of my own making. Emma responds very well to threats, so I use them all the time. You can often here this at my house:

 

"It's time to go, please find your shoes and get in the car."

"Where are your shoes? Why didn't you put them on? We need to go. Put on your shoes."

"All right. Your shoes are still not on and we need to go. Get your shoes on now. If you do not have your shoes on by the time I come back in this room, you will get a ______ (Prov. 13:24)."

Miraculously, when I come back in the room, her shoes are on and she is running to get in the car. Even though I am not a 1-2-3 threat kind of mom, in my own way I am still giving her a lot of leeway before she needs to finally obey. 

Now that I have this figured out and I am thoroughly tired of repeating myself and threatening until I am blue in the face and irritated beyond measure, it was time to tighten the rains/reigns (I have no idea how to spell the word that describes the thing on the bridle of the horse to makes it obey). This week my goal was to threaten less, repeat myself no more, and tighten the thing on the bridle of a horse that makes it obey -- only on my kid.

So, fresh home from a stop at the library and lunch with Jeff, I told Emma to go in the house, go potty, and get in bed. I know full well that she is capable of following 3 commands because she would easily obey if I said, "Go in the house, pull the chair over and get as many chocolate chips as you want. Go ahead, go for it." Then just watch her jump.

Since Emma was so well trained  not to obey me at the first utterance of my command, I added, "I am not saying this again. Go inside now and go potty and climb in bed or..... (and this is the biggy).... you will not get to watch a movie from the library after you rest." She did not believe me, obviously, because about 5 minutes later, I found her outside playing with her cat and she hid when she saw me coming. I eventually got her into bed, crying and kicking and screaming because she does not do anything well that is not her idea. I did not make my threat again, because I knew the time would come.

The time came and she ran to me after a good rest with a movie in her hand. She was all smiles. She had forgotten our scuffle and her disobedience like she always does. I reminded her of our deal, the battle we had a few hours previously and again said, "No movie today. You did not listen when we got home today and I told you this would happen. You made the choice to not obey." Oh, heavens! You would have thought her little world ended. She screamed and cried, I gave out some generous _______ (Prov. 13:24), time outs and I repeated our agreement. "Next time I hope you choose to obey when I tell you to do something and then you will get to do the fun things that obedient girls get to do."

By the way, these pictures have nothing to do with my story, they are just pictures of my sweet Emma and I needed something to get the bad taste out of my mouth as I re-live that horrid afternoon when Emma realized her fierce, painful consequence.

She eventually got through the day, begging and pleading at every turn for the movie. She even turned on the smiles and said, "God made me happy now. Please can I watch the movie?" Nope. Nope. Nope. Sorry kid. When I repeated the consequence, God's happiness quickly faded from her life (sometimes this happens to me too, so I understand). I called my sister who has vast experience with a child who can't let something go and she was not much help. She said you just have to ride it out, see it through, ya da ya da ya da. It is much harder than it sounds.

The next day started bright and beautiful and I could not have predicted how lovely my little girl was acting. I had to go shopping and she was an angel. I had to rush her and she kept up with a smile. I told her to get out of the car when we arrived home after lunch, go inside, go potty, and climb in to bed. She immediately obeyed and started inside. Her kitten rubbed her leg and purred as she passed and and I heard her say, "Sorry, Kitty. I have to go inside now. I'll see you next time."

After her nap she got to watch her movie. We've had a few scuffles in the last days, but nothing major. I tell her the consequence for disobeying and let her decide. I'm done threatening and repeating myself. It left me weary and frustrated. It is still alot of work to train my child, but I pray I continue to see the benefits of my delightful, happy, loving, and obedient girl.

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twins

I've always wanted twins. I really, really wanted twins when I was pregnant with Emma and thought I was going to die with 9 months of puking and puking some more. My theory was that I could get 2 babies for the price of one horrible pregnancy. Never mind that the real work comes after the puking stops. And the real expense too. I just bought diapers today and I am glad that I did not have to buy 2 boxes. God knows what I can handle.

And besides, Mandy does have a twin! Her name is Adelyn and I didn't have to do any of the work in birthing her (or nursing her!). And I don't have to bye her diapers. And I don't have to figure out how to hold her squirmy body and Mandy's squirmy body and Emma's hand while crossing a parking lot.

Of course, if you haven't gathered by now, Mandy and Adelyn are not related. Was it the hair that gave it away? Or their skin color? Or the fact they couldn't look more different?

Adelyn belongs to my friend Janelle. She was the first person I told that I was pregnant. Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Andee. Sorry, Kelly. It was just too cool that we were pregnant with our babies and due around the same time. I couldn't help but tell her and we were both so excited. When Janelle started bleeding at 8 weeks, she called me. I was devistated. I was sure she was miscarrying her baby and I was keeping mine. It wasn't fair. I was completely hormonal and sad for my friend and cried and cried.

Praise God that Janelle did not miscarry and Adelyn is here. Again I was quite hormonal when I called Janelle to tell her I had finally had my baby girl. She said, "So did I!" I cried again, but this time because I was so happy. The girls were born 2 hours apart on Sunday, September 16, 2007.
I hope they will always be friends. Because they will always share a special day.

Even if they look nothing alike.

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Hey, there's some hay!

I don't have pictures right now to show you the difference between hay and straw, but I can give you some pointers so you can tell for yourself and protect you from any "hay" blunders. Generally speaking, hay bales are green. The grass is cut green and is very nutritious for the live-stock to eat. Straw on the other hand is a very blond/yellow color. Also, the time of year you see the bales will help you differentiate. Hay is cut earlier than straw, in May and June. Straw is taken and baled after the harvest, so you will see it in all its *blond beauty in July and August. Of course hay and straw are hauled all year on trucks, so you will need to look closely if you are out of season. It can be tricky, but I hope this helps!

*My farmer husband was completely opposed to me using the word "blond" to describe the color of straw. I'm just trying to be descriptive. I am not a farmer, I just work here.

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How's farmin?

People ask me a lot how farmin' is going. I suppose they would ask a similar question if my husband was a dentist. It would just be, "How's the dentistin' in going." Maybe not. Anyway, since you are all wondering, here is an update on the farmin' operation.

We just finished combining the grass seed. If you are in the NW, you may have noticed fields full of cut something-or-other in nice neat rows. That is some type of grass in one of its many varieties. A swather cuts the grass and then it sits on the ground for awhile and the combine comes along (the big green thing in the pictures) and takes the seed. The chaff is discarded and thrown out the back of the combine. Later, it is raked again into neat piles (now minus the seed) to wait for a baler. The bails of straw have to be hauled off the field for storage for the winter. Most likely, if you've been behind a straw truck you were spattered with little bits of straw and you were irritated. Straw is all over the roads here.

I need to stop for a moment and briefly explain the difference between straw and hay. It took me about 4 years of marriage to a farmer before I knew the difference. I would make jokes like, "Hey, look at that hay." Giggle, giggle. And my husband would say, "That's straw." It was deflating that I had no idea what the difference was between the two. It is actually quite a big deal and not hard to tell them apart with a little knowledge. Hay has the seed still attached and it used for feed and straw is the chaff, the waste that is bailed usually for bedding for animals and can be mixed in for feed. Straw to a cow is like parsley to humans: sure we'll eat it, but come one, give us some real food (i.e., hay).

All of the above swathing, combining, raking, bailing, and hauling requires many, many man hours. I don't contribute by helping with heavy machinery that is worth more than my home, but I do feed the men who work the heavy machinery that is worth more than my home. Our lives revolve completely around food these days. The hard working farmer leaves the house after we eat breakfast and we see him again at lunch after I have made food, packed it, and drove to where he is. We also see him for dinner. This system works good for us at this time of year. Seeing Jeff gives me a break from my other wise extremely long day and it gives the hard working farmer a break from his sometimes monotonous (when everything is working) and sometimes frustrating (when everything is breaking) day. The girls also enjoy it and they enjoy being with daddy doing whatever he is doing. He's home by 10pm, much later than their bed time.

There is no end in site. Next up are wheat and oats. Those don't have to be swathed first, so a step is saved. They are just combined (with the big green machine pictured). The straw is still taken off the field though, but sometimes not. There are times when they disk it in to the ground, but I have no clue why. That will be for another informative post. So now I bet you are sorry you asked about farmin'. You didn't really care did you? You were making conversation? Oh! You were looking for, "Fine," or "You know, we have to make hay while the sun shines" (non-farmers love that one). But see how much you learned, now you won't be embarrassed when you make the "Hey, there's some hay" joke.

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Back to White

I removed the awesome red layout my blog has been sporting for the last week or so. It was taking forever to load for me and then a few people let me know it was not loading at all for them, making the white font kinda impossible to read. I just couldn't let my blog be invisible, so we are back to boring until I have a minute to try something else.

As I previously stated, I made a rule for myself that I cannot go online, not at all, not even to check email, unless my kitchen is clean. It is a really horrible, stupid rule that I wish I never would have made. I spent an hour cleaning the kitchen today and now both little children are up from too short of naps and they are grumpy. Well, I am grumpy too! I don't have time to change my blog template! 

PS I know my life is really not that hard... really. I don't need an intervention or another look at Phil's blog.

PPS To see what I spent a little extra time on yesterday, check out my photography blog.

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I found another great blog. It is called the Old Red Barn Co. Check it out and enter to win the most beautiful, girly, vintagey quilt. 

Do you think I would be more popular if I did contests on my blog? I am not sure what I would give away. Chocolate Chip Cookies or the best Enchiladas you've ever had. Do you think I could get over 5 comments? It might be worth it!

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I see dead people

There is a cemetery near our house that we frequently drive by. Our beloved Grandma Peters is buried there, although we have not gone to visit her grave since she died over 2 years ago. Cemeteries are not a place I want to go to remember someone I loved deeply. Their memories live in my heart, in treasured pictures, and in familiar places where we spent time together. That said, my 3 1/2 year old doesn't know too much about cemeteries. Emma's inevitable question came the other day as we drove passed the rolling green lawn dotted with grave stones. I pondered how to tell her the truth at a level she could understand and gave her this response:

"That is a place where we can remember the people who died. Each person has a marker with the birth date and the day they died. Your Great Grandma has a place with her name on it because she was buried there. The cool thing is that even though Grandma Peters does not live any more here with us, she is in heaven with Jesus having fun praising Him. Grandma Peters loved Jesus very much."

At that point I was quite pleased with my answer when Emma came back with responses like, "Is heaven a long ways away?" and "I glad Grandma Peters love Jesus." We talked about it for quite some time. It was a lovely parenting moment. A few days later we drove passed the same cemetery and Emma obviously remembered our conversation and summarized the details:

"My great Grandma Pretties was really, really old and lives in the dirt at that place. But sometimes she goes to heaven with Jesus."

I have more work to do.

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Boys

I've been able to spend some time with my nephews, Josh and Jake the last 2 days. Their mom is very sick and doesn't need all that boy energy running her raged right now. Actually, she isn't supposed to be running or lifting or standing -- just resting.

We have a good time with the boys. Emma simply adores them. She loves Josh's enthusiasm and she loves to take care of Jake (2). Each time she sees him she asks, "Are you in a good mood?" His mood is very important to her.

Yesterday we played in the pool at Aunt Janice's. I took some pictures of the kids having way too much fun. 

Josh told me some very profound things yesterday:

"You should come to my house and see my brother, Josiah. He is a real baby. He is not in my mommy's tummy anymore and he is not like an eagle at all. He doesn't have wings and he can't fly."

AND

"Cows don't have fangs, just teeth."

Jake seems to think I am pretty cool. I really need people in my life who think I am cool because it doesn't happen very often. Jake is a sweet-heart and kept running back and forth to the pool trying to get his hair wet to show me. Good job!

Who can beat to bring me a raspberry first? This is the life. I sat in one place working on my tan while I sent them on repeated missions to get me raspberries. Josh's were not ripe, Jake's were smushed, but ripe, and Emma (she's lagging behind in the foot race) kept returning saying, "I ate it. I'll get you a different one."

This is a picture I hope to see in a wedding slideshow someday.  

Cousins are the best!

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VBS

VBS is going great and is half way through (Praise the Lord!). The group keeps growing and today there were over 100 kids. We meet at our pastor's home at the edge of town. There is space in the back acreage for the different sites: Snack Shack, Treasure Hut, Story Time, Games, Pool (in-ground and heated), and Crafts. All these activities keep the leaders hopping for 3 hours in this really hot weather.

Today I had 14 in my 5 year old group. Yes, 14 including 2 2-year olds (other leader's kids) and Emma who thinks she is 5. Each session is only 20 minutes. Imagine if you only had 20 minutes to take all these darling to 2 toilets and then swim, allowing enough time to change afterward. In 20 minutes. 20 minutes only to bathroom, swim, change, and be sitting at story time. The first day I did not do well. I only had 1 helper and we took 35 minutes and were late for story time. As the week wears on -- I mean goes swimmingly on -- I am getting a little faster.

The outdoor setting is really fun. The theme is "Who is the King of the Jungle?"

I pray they are soaking in some truths about the Bible through the chaos. Today our session times were combined with the 6 year olds. There were 12 of them.

I know they are having fun. Emma is keeping up with the older kids pretty well. There is a huge difference from 3 years old to 5 years old. I can tell she is often overwhelmed, but doesn't want to call attention to herself with a meltdown -- that's my egocentric introvert. On the plus side, she's volunteering held my hand and sat on my lap more these last 3 days than in the last 3 years combined. She's watching and learning and it is just a bit scary.

This week is pretty stressful for me. I have a long to-do list. The way my list looks right now reminds of what happens when a group of 12 5 year olds, 1 3 year old, and 2 2 year olds is suddenly forced to stop. They go bumping into one another, some falling down crying, some just standing peacefully waiting for the next change of pace, some not stopping at all, continuing on to find more chaos. My list of "to-dos" is bumping into each other, some things are crying out (my messy kitchen), some are standing patiently waiting (the senior pictures from last week that need editing), and some just don't stop at all (needed groceries, laundry and that dirty bathroom).

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What I love about Sunday:

I get to put my feet up.

While someone else does the running.

And the crawling.

And I enjoy the scene. Very, very much.

*This week is our church's VBS. I am a leader for the 4-5 year old kids (Emma is in this group). I had 10 kids today and am tuckered out. I won't be getting on to blog with my usual fervor. Also, my living room is about 1/2 painted. I have impeccable timing with my decorating projects.

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On someone else's blog...

I was on PW the other day and scanned through some of her hundreds of comments. Did you read that? Hundreds. I am stoked to get more than 1 comment. Actually, 1 comment is better than nothing. Anyway, I regress. I was scanning the comments and saw one that had a link to a decorating blog. I popped over to it (I can now pop anywhere on the internet because I am flying with high speed) and loved reading this site.

The decorator, Christine, says that she answers design questions that people email her, so I thought, hey why not? I sent her a picture of my struggling living room. I am currently trying to redecorate. My furniture is literally in the middle of the room as I wait to paint. So, she responded to MY questions and gave me a whole long list of things to try. Check it out, my living room picture is on her blog!

I can't arrange my furniture like she suggested because the couch would catch fire against the fireplace, but I am going to try her other suggestions. I don't know how in the world I am going to convince my husband that I should paint the couch red. Any conversation that starts with, "Honey, I am thinking of painting _____ red," does not go well. It's not that he is a nasty, mean husband. He just doesn't care for red in decorating.... or in clothing he has to wear.... or in cars he has to drive.... He is actually a wonderful, fantastic husband. I'll play to his strong suits: "Honey, instead of bugging you about buying a new couch that is not in the budget, I am thinking of painting our 35 year old hand-me-down couch that was free and we don't even like.... um, red."

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"Working" with a new subject

I photograph children. I love to photograph children, but oh, they are a challenge. Today I embarked on a new area of photography; one where my subject did what I told her too, she survived through various wardrobe changes, didn't need to break for a nap, and was eager to change location after location. I loved it! I took senior pictures for Miranda, the niece of my former youth pastor. She was a delight to work with and I had so much fun.

We were at Minto Brown Park and had the summer sun on our side. Miranda is just a beautiful girl and adventurous too! I enjoyed trying new things as I asked her to hike through rocks in bare feet and scale a condemned dock in a floor-length dress (don't tell her mom!).

I am working on the photos now and am pleased with them. I took over 100 and will post a few to preview on my photography blog as soon as possible.

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Real life

There are many, many times I think back to a moment in my chaotic day and think, I wish I would have taken a picture.

My life isn't perfect, although I would like my blog readers to think so. Sometimes, rarely, but it happens, my children wear ragged, dirty clothes. I don't take pictures of that. Sometimes (OK, most of the time) my house is not neat and clean. I don't take pictures of that either. And if I do, I photoshop their clothing and my house until it is clean and neat. It works better than spray n' wash. 

But sometimes, I should just take pictures. Let the dirty house go. Let it go that I have an umbrella, a rubber glove, and 5 bowls of kitten food on my deck. Get over Emma's strange original outfit #4 for the day and "pretty" hair thing. Get over Mandy's unbuttoned onsie and fly away hair and take the pictures that say, this is my real perfect life.

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