proof read, please.

I recently wrote a very professional letter to a renter who moved 2 cats into a "no pets allowed" unit. I was pretty irate about the cats because the unit has brand-spankin-new carpet and their contract clearly states: no pets.

I really like these renters and didn't want to kick them out even though they violated the rental contract. Renters who pay with cash on time and keep the place neat and clean are hard to find. I set about writing a strongly worded letter informing them of my disdain and the fact that I will be adding a monthly pet fee to offset the inevitable costs of pets in the rental unit. Please read the following sentence:

"Because I feel you are contentious people and will do your best to minimize any damage caused by your cats I will charge only a minimal pet fee."

Oh, how I wish I would have had someone proof read the letter. My husband read the letter after it was already sent and said, "What does 'contentious' mean?" A slow steady burn of embarrassment crept over me as I realized my mistake. It was supposed to me "conscientious" people.

con·ten·tious 

Meaning:
1 : likely to cause contention
2 : exhibiting an often perverse and wearisome tendency to quarrels and disputes

And the word I meant to use:

con·sci·en·tious
Meaning:
1 : governed by or conforming to the dictates of conscience : scrupulous
2 : meticulous, careful

My only hope is that the renters don't look up the meaning of "contentious." If they do, they will think their property manager believes them to be perverse and wearisome and then stop taking care of their cats' messes. No, really, I think you are conscientious people and would never, ever let your cat defile the new carpet. Conscientious. Really, truly. 

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Football Season

Jesse, my youngest brother-in-law, is a Junior in high school this year and starts on the varsity football team for Central. We went to his first game last night against the defending state champs. This was the most anticipated game of the season because Central was the #2 team last year. The fans came out and it was a really fun game to watch. I make no aspirations of being a sport's photographer, but I did bring my camera to document this important game.

Jesse is wearing the #99 jersey. He played a great game and even scored a touchdown. Central won the game by a good margin. I don't know the exact score because we left with 3 minutes left in the 4th quarter when the opposing team had no chance of winning and both our children were fighting sleep and needed to get home. 

I am quite sure there were no guys like Jesse when I was in high school. For one thing, he is 6'4" and such a nice looking young man (don't I sound like an old married lady? :). He also has a solid character, is well mannered, mature, has good friends, and did I mention he is 6'4"? All the guys I knew in high school were 5'4", shiny boys who peered up at me with love struck eyes and nervous giggles. Short boys always like tall girls.

The cheerleaders were quite perky last night. When, I was in high school, I was in awe of the cheerleaders. Being a ridiculously tall, uncoordinated musician made cheer leading completely out of my league, even if my parents would have let me, which they would not have. And I was home schooled. There were many reasons why I didn't cheer. They were so cool, look at the kind of tricks they can do! Seeing them now as an adult made me want to roll my eyes at their perkiness, skinniness, short skirts and really impractical tricks. How on earth is being able to stand way up in the air while supported by other tiny people going to make you a better person? Actually I did roll my eyes and say, "What-e-ver." I flipped my long blond hair behind my shoulder, smacked my imaginary gum and sighed. Yes, the tall girl is still delusional. It must be quite a lot of work to be so perky all the time.

Jesse had quite a cheering section (even without the TOTALLY awesome cheerleaders). Any time even half of the Peters show up, you have a cheering section. Janice came, along with the folks, Juli, and John and Kelly's family, and us.

The game wasn't over until after 10pm, so that left quite a few tired little ones. Emma and Josh cuddled up with Grandma. So cute. 

Eventually, Emma made herself a bed on the cement riser of the bleachers. She is a creature of habit and must be in bed by 8pm. Both girls did well at the game, but Mandy was especially cranky, twisting to and fro trying to get comfortable and sleep, which she never did go to sleep.  Even going to bed at 10pm, they were up at 7am this morning. My kids are weird. I have no idea how people get their kids to sleep in. I long for them to sleep in past 7am. Instead, we are all creatures of habit and home bodies and are quite happy in our little world. It is fun to get out and see a good football game though. Next time, I am not bringing the kids.

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Princess Vs. Practicle

Emma's amazing $5 garage sale bike is gone. She was pretty upset about it when we told her someone took it. She was really confused why someone would take her bike. It is HER bike after all. When my dad heard the news, he was filled with compassion and offered to buy her a new one. I didn't tell Emma and let her believe as her daddy told her that she wouldn't be able to get a bike until she was 4 years old.

At Wal-Mart, I was met with a tough choice. The boy's bikes were $40. The girl's bikes were $68-$74. The difference was the pretty tassells on the handle bars of the girl's bike and a backpack on the front. The girls had a choice of Barbie, Bratz, and Disney Princesses. Also, the tires on the girl's bikes are white, while the boy's bikes have black tires.

I ended up buying one, after much anxiety, gnashing of teeth, and an annoyed sale's guy who lifted about 15 bikes down for me. What would have done? Spend more and get her a girly bike with white tires or save $30 for something else and get her the boy bike with so frills? 

PS The bike that was stolen that I paid $5 for at a garage sale was a boy bike.

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picture time

I had a great, busy day photographing 2 different sessions. The first session was my friend Penny's daughter's play group. There are 4 girls all about 4 years old. The girls were all adopted by different families and the moms get together once a week and the little girls play.

I seriously should not get paid for this job -- it is such a pleasure for me. It was so much fun! The girls were all wearing white and were lovely, yet unique. Their different personalities burst through my camera lens; they were serious, shy, playful, and sweet. I took 250 pictures in less than an hour. I'll admit I was a little snap happy, but I couldn't help myself. The girls were so lovely in white and were willing to try anything as long as it was silly and fun.

I am currently working on editing the pictures from their session this morning while Mandy naps and Emma watches a movie. Except I no longer hear the movie, only banging and yelling. Sorry, Penny, the pictures will have to wait.

The other session I photographed was for a friend of a friend. We had never met, but she contacted me via email and we set up a time and place. The children were ages 10, 7, and 7 months and were a delight. I haven't photographed too many older kids, but every time I do, I love it even more. They are fresh and innocent, yet are compliant and fun. And they did great holding their baby sister in the pictures. The baby was also sweet and fun to photograph. 7 months old is a great age, especially when they are not able to crawl out of the picture yet. I have some of their images edited and already posted them to my photography blog. 

I feel extremely blessed that my photography business is growing. I've done 1-2 sessions per week (except for the week of rain) all summer. Every session I learn something new about my technique and I have such a good time capturing the beauty God created. Part of me really wishes I would have realized my passion for photography earlier when I was floundering through majors like music and psychology. But perhaps if I had started doing photography sooner, I would not have appreciated what a gift it is to do what I love.

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Is she walking?

A pretty common question I get about Mandy is, "Is she walking yet?" She is 11 months old and is a great, fast crawler. She's been mobile since she was 5 months, so thankfully I avoided the "Is she crawling?" question. She is into everything, pulls up on stuff and walks around with ease as long as she is steadied by an object or a hand or Emma (like in the picture). I imagine she will walk around her first birthday, but I could be wrong. Emma was 15 months and that "Is she walking yet?" question got really old. I know people are just trying to make conversation, so I don't get my panties in a bunch when I hear the question again and again. It is like the first 6 months of a baby's life when I heard "Is she sleeping through the night?" It is just a take off point to get me started about all the amazing things my baby can do. Yes, she is amazing. You'll be the first to know when she starts walking. I promise. I will probably even pull out my old relic of a camera and take some live footage. It will be a must see event! Read More.. Read More..

Today

I published posts on Food Love and my photography blog today instead of lamenting on Paradise. I'll be back with a positive post soon! Read More.. Read More..

When it rains it pours

Ever start out a day with the highest hopes and then one disaster leads to another? The girls both woke up too early this morning and then again early and cranky from too short of naps. What do you do with them? I went outside and hung a load of wash out, but both of them were just terrible outside. They were whiny, they were just too much to handle. It was time for a walk. I stuffed some snacks in the stroller, herded them out the door and we were off to kill some time, gain a better perspective on life, and hopefully have some fun.

It was not meant to be. About 1/2 a mile down the road it started to sprinkle. I've walked in the rain plenty of times, no big deal. Emma was riding her bike singing her heart out and we kept going. Then it started to down-pour. We don't get a lot of tropical storms in this region, okay, Oregon is not actually tropical at all. But we had one today. For this weather phenomenon I will start at "A" and name it Tropical Storm Albert. I dashed under some trees by the side of the road with Mandy in the stroller and Emma now on foot, leaving the bike on the side of the road. Albert lasted and lasted, pouring down rain and the trees were providing little shelter. We were all soaked to the skin (Mandy was just soaked a little on her feet, but she still whined about it). I called my beloved and he said he had the same storm and it just ended, probably a 20-30 minute "shower." No, no, this is not just a shower, it is Tropical Storm Albert. Also, I realized too late that we were standing in a lovely grove of Poison Oak -- my arch enemy and the cause of last summers face blow-up and horrible suffering. I decided to make a break for it, stashed Emma's bike in the bushes for pick up later and I loaded the girls up and ran in my squishy sandals, both girls crying and howling the whole way home.

I had my camera along because I thought I would take pictures of the girls in the sunflower field down the road. The weather was fine when we left. Instead I captured our misery.

At home, my patience, outlook, mood, and perspective had not improved. I jumped in the shower with both girls (not advisable) to scrub the Poison Oak oils off and was treated to more crying and gnashing of teeth. Finally dressed and ready for the world, they were still whining and crying, they weren't hungry, they weren't tired, just annoyed at life and so was I. I looked at the clock and it was 4pm. You've got to be kidding me. 4pm? 4pm? 4 more hours until bed. I made some dinner and decided to take it to my husband who was plowing and who completely spoiled me by coming home at decent hours last week. He told me he wouldn't be home until after 8pm.

I was in the kitchen, throwing things together, yelling at Emma for spilling about a gallon of water on the floor and then throwing my sweatshirt in it to "clean it up" when I yelled, "I am not in a good mood. Everyone needs to just leave me alone." She responded with, "I want you in a good mood. Please don't roar (yell) at me." Me: "I don't know how to be in a good mood right now. The house is a mess, Mandy is crying, and I just want to get out of here." Her little wise response, "God can make you happy. Just ask." Where does this kid get these things? Her mother must be amazingly brilliant and never has an attitude problem.

I truly wish this story had a happier ending. The clothes drying outside to save money and use our natural resources were drenched. I completely lost it a few more times, most recently when we discovered that my oh, so secret hiding spot was not too discreet and Emma's bike was gone. Someone stole it. Now I get to explain to Emma that she doesn't have her most prized possession any more and it is my fault.  I think this is a good night to just go to bed early and pray the sun is out in the morning.

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Wedding bells

We went to a lovely wedding on Saturday evening. It was the wedding of a longtime friend who now lives in Eugene and worked for Campus Crusade for a few years. Her parents are farmers and the wedding was outdoors under a big white tent decorated with white tables and chairs and simple daisy center pieces at the family farm. It started at 7:30 p.m. and the sun set with a beautiful display of colors as the bride came down the isle. The music was not traditional, but the pianist beautifully played the well-known tunes, including the theme song to Forest Gump. The bride's maids came from behind the house, quite a long distance, and the groom's men, wearing black pants and casual white short-sleeved shirts, went to meet them and escort them down the isle. The girls' dresses were simple eggshell blue knee length sundresses worn with flip flops.

The pastor who married the couple spoke about chemistry and love and commitment -- not too long, but very personal to the couple. I was mesmerized by the breathtaking sunset setting behind the couple across a field of blueberries. After the couple was pronounced husband and wife, the music started for them to walk down the isle. The couple always walks down the isle with big, silly smiles on their faces, but not this time. The music started, Lovely, sung by Tony Bennett and the couple started their first dance. They are excellent dancers and did a swinging number complete with spins and dips. I leaned over to my wonderful husband and said, "We are not that cool." He responded, "Not even close."

Another brilliant idea was when their first dance was complete, the cake was brought up on a table and the couple cut it and did the following traditional ritual of feeding it to one another. It was after that that the couple walked down the isle and the guests were free to mingle and partake in the dessert buffet. I had Marion Berry Cheesecake in case anyone is wondering.

It was a wonderful wedding, full of great ideas. Everything was well orchestrated and went off perfectly. The bride and groom had to be a little terrified when last week the rain came and stayed until Friday before the wedding. Also, it started raining again Sunday afternoon. The timing of the wedding was perfect and the weather and temperature was just right for an evening wedding.

I always love weddings. I think about my wedding day and how giddy and excited I was to be married to the most unbelievably amazing guy in the whole world. My wedding was not well orchestrated or planned and there are many things I wish I would have done differently. But hey, I was 21. I had NO idea what I was doing and really didn't want to listen to my mom's advice (sorry, Mom). And Martha was no help either. She says you need 12 months (AT LEAST) to plan a decent wedding. I had 3 months and $2,000 and 500 guests. When it comes down to it, it is just a day. A day that starts the rest of your lives as a married couple. It starts the real commitment and foundation that will last until death parts it. The good the bad and the ugly may come, but it is a date that marks a beginning.

Our friends were blissfully happy at their wedding. I pray they choose every day to make one another feel special like they did on that day. As Dr. Laura would say, "What have you done today to make his/her life worth living?" Wedding are such a good reminder of the young beautiful love I held for my beloved. If you are married, you had a wedding day and all the emotions that go along with it. It can be easy to get lost in the everyday and become stagnant or worse yet, unhappy, but there was a time when everything was bliss. Remember the bliss and hold on to it and make life worth living for your love today. Read More.. Read More..

A day off

I missed a day of blogging and it felt so strange. I have a daily routine that involves blogging (among other important things) and I don't like to disappoint my fans. Me and the Pioneer Woman, we have people to keep happy.

This weather threw everyone for a loop it seems. We went from sweltering hot temperatures to rainy sweatshirt weather over night. And my husband went from spending 14 hours a day away from home to coming in at random times during the day, restless and looking for work to do. Thankfully they were able to get the wheat crop in before the almost inch of rain we received.

So, this crazy cold and rainy weather is what took us to the beach in the middle of the week in August. It was a pleasant deviation from the norm and I soaked up the time with my little family. The day was great, full of sun (it was much warmer at the Coast), sand, shopping, and fish and chips at Mo's.

Jeff taught the girls how to build a real sand castle. The method was lost on Mandy, but Emma liked the cool trick. The girls could have played in the sand all the live long day. They were angles while we were down at the beach.

Mandy has no fear, just like Emma, and crawled straight for the water. She was headed for the waves when we rescued her.

Don't you hate that yucky sandy feel after playing at the beach? Having kids covered in the stuff in every conceivable crevice, is much, much worse than my own discomfort. They were such a mess. But they didn't care one bit.

Yes, she is eating the sand and no, we couldn't make her stop. We were flicking her hand for awhile and saying "icky" and then she would crawl behind something and shovel some more sand into her mouth. I don't feel like the best parent for admitting this. I told myself that it wasn't the end of the world. Right?

I got a new red coat. It called out to me, from somewhere in my kacki, beige, and denim soul. My non-red-loving husband loves it and even insisted I wear it instead of my gray sweatshirt (sometimes I go crazy and wear gray). I think his soul needs red too.

This picture cracks me up. I set the camera up with the girls in the picture. It took them 10 seconds to completely get out of the shot. Oh, well. It isn't very often I get a picture with just me and my guy. I love him and our completely unpredictable life.

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Compassion

I got a serious injury the other day. Okay, not really. The cat tried to jump onto me and scratched my hand. I reacted by shouting, "Ouch!" as the claws left a jagged torn line on my hand. Emma rushed over to see and I was amazed at her concern. I saw a glimpse of amazing compassion. I told her I was fine, but she wouldn't let it go.

Emma: Oh no, Mommy. It has blood. Oh no, you are hurting?

Me: I'm OK. I'll just wipe the little bit of blood off and God will heal it.

Emma: Don't touch it. Is needs a bame-aid.

She rushed off and I decided to let her doctor me up. She returned with a band-aid, a butterfly bandage left over from the time Jeff tried to cut his finger off and was too cheap to go to the ER for stitches. She placed the bandage right onto the scratch, covering the length of it with the adhesive. It wasn't sticking like she wanted to so she tried to reposition it. Now it was actually hurting.

Me: That's enough. I think it is getting better. Thank you for helping me.

Emma: Please don't take the bame-aid off. God needs to heal it. It needs a cab (scab).

Throughout the day she asked me about my injury. She would come and pat my hand, give it a kiss and say, "Oh, Mommy, I sorry you got an ouchie. That's just too bad. Too bad for you. Yep!" The procedure was completed when she insisted the ouchie was healed and she wanted to rip the bandage off. They have good adhesive on those things. My hand is healing just fine. Thanks for asking. I've had enough sympathy from Emma to last for awhile.

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Shorter

I loved all the hair feedback I received. Thanks! I went this morning at 7am for my appointment. I had to drive 20 minutes, so it was an early morning for me. I really like the cut and it feels trendy and cute. I didn't end up getting a color. Interestingly, all of those who commented liked the choice that had the same color as I already have. The last cut is blond, but it wasn't the first choice. So that saved me $60. That's why I love my blog audience, you guys are always helping me out!

If any of you try the everydaymakeover.com, post pictures. It is so much fun!

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Blue hair

I am getting my haircut and colored tomorrow and was looking online for some different styles. I found dailymakeoever.com and create new looks for myself. Emma helped me and we really had a great time putting different hair on my head. Try to figure out which ones Emma picked! She is opinionated about everything and would say, "Um, no try purple. No, not that one, maybe shorter. I want you to have bangs like me." Goodness! I love her input and I can tell her creative genius needs to be expressed just like mine. I pray that she doesn't beg for some outrageous hairstyle for herself some day that will clash with my family Christmas photo.

I don't look good with long hair. I know that now. It has taken some work for me and my husband to both come to this conclusion, but it is time. I shouldn't do long hair, but the blue is not bad.
Emma laughed hysterically in her fake, fake laugh for awhile about the purple hair. She was having too much fun. Time to get serious....

Nope, still can't do long hair, even when it is shiny and black.

Okay, now we are in a little more normal place in hairland.

I like the look above. I could spend an hour on my hair every morning. I could work it in to my schedule. Right after I do my make-up and before I put on my designer jeans to go out with my friends for coffee.

Ahhh! It's me in 1995. This is so frightening. It is the nightmare where I ate all the blackberry cream cheese bars and I gained 30 pounds in one sitting.

Hoho hee. I have mousy hair. My hair is super, super thick (I left off the third "super" to leave room to describe hair like my sister's), so I have never had flat hair. I wonder what it would be like.....
I just realized I have 2 hairstyles the same, but in different colors. I guess I like that one. I never thought about doing an A-line because of my love affair with the pony-tail, but I guess I could try it. What do I have to lose? 

I would love your opinion before tomorrow am! I still have time to try more looks on Daily Makeover. Try some yourself. It is really a good time had by all -- mom and children!

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In God we Still Trust

Here's your chance to let the media know where we stand on our faith in God, as a nation. NBC is taking a poll on "In God We Trust" to stay on our American currency. Vote "no" if you agree that the statement of faith should not be removed. Please do it right away, before NBC takes this off the web page. Click on the link highlighted above or copy and paste the link below into your browser.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/10103521/ Read More.. Read More..

Jeff was discoing with his new iPod

Recently we joined the rest of the world and bought an iPod. Jeff wanted one for some time so that he can listen to it while working. He spends hours and hours in combines or tractors and some of the machinery have tape players/just am radio/just fm radio or one has nothing at all. He becomes a bit of a crazy man after listening to only am radio all day or, worse yet, being in a cocoon of silence all day. The iPod was a great idea, but we couldn't figure it out. As with everything Apple related (my computer is a good example), once I knew what I was doing it seemed SO easy. In the midst of it though, I felt like a bone-head. Thanks to my friend, Jenni, the iPod is up and running and has enough lectures on Revelation to entertain Jeff for hours on end. The Jr. High class that Jeff teaches is going through the book of Revelation and he studies for the lesson throughout the week.

Jenni came to spend some time just "hangin' out." She is used to her friends having kids and knows that there isn't a lot of down-time, but life is really different on the farm. I think she said a total of 14 times, "How do you do this?" It varied a little with, "Why do you do this?" and "I couldn't do this." The baby was crying for more food from the high chair as I buzzed randomly around the kitchen trying to pack the lunch while Emma ran around showing off, changing clothes, trying to get glue and buttons out to make Jenni a picture all while I attempted to carry on a normal conversation. Usually I pack lunch without another adult around so I can throw Mandy food, Emma is much calmer, and I don't attempt to carry on a conversation with anyone. I take lunch to Jeff because he can't come home, it just isn't feasible and I want to see him. The girls do too. So, Jenni came with us on our daily ritual and we had a picnic in the dirt in the field where Jeff was disking -- using the tractor to pull the disc, putting all that straw stubble under the dirt. 

Interruption: my spell checker didn't like "disking" and wanted to substitute "discoing" -- Jeff was discoing. LOL, now I need no more laughs in my day.

"Where is the closest bathroom?" "Do you let Mandy eat the dirt?" "Why can't you turn off the tractor?" "Are you out here by yourself or can other people disc at the same time?" "How long does this take?"

I love Jenni's interest. She is a city girl through and through.
The 3 of us have been friends for almost 8 years, but there are a lot of everyday details that are still a puzzlement to the city folks. They are a puzzlement to me too. Now, why do I let my baby eat dirt and watermelon in the same meal?

These 2 were matching. Too cute.

It was a fun day. I learned a little about the outside world where people eat veggie wraps from restaurants for lunch and I was able to download stuff to the iPod. It was great! And Jenni learned a little what it is like to be a farmer's wife/mom in my very dusty, rarely clean, but blessed life. I love easy friendships that take no more work than a drive to the country.

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Mandy is 11 months old!

In honor of Mandy's 11 month birthday today, I completed a survey for her about herself. I could go on and on about how she is growing up before my eyes and how much I enjoy her willing smile and recount her birthday story (actually I should recount her ALMOST birth story), but I will save the mushy stuff for next month when my baby turns 1 year old. In the meantime, here's the survey:

Full name: Mandy Rose

Age: 11 months old

Favorite Food: blackberries

Favorite time of day: any time with Daddy

What color of socks are you wearing? bare feet

Last movie you watched in a theater: I don't remember it, but my mommy says I made her puke and miss the Bourn Ultimatum last August in utero.

Ever been skinny dipping? yesterday

What do you do if you are bored? whine

Last time you cried: about 15 minutes ago because Emma smashed my hand with Cocoa the rocking horse

Blueberries or Cherries: blueberries

What is your best physical feature? From all the compliments I get, I would say it is my crystal clear blue eyes

Most afraid of: being thrown in the air too high

How many countries have you been to outside the US? none (my sister is the well traveled one)

What do you want to do when you grow up? be taller than my sister

Favorite drink: life sustaining milk

Ever loved someone so much you cried? I don't think so

What color is your bedroom? yellow (with pink and blue accents)

Do you have any tattoos? no, but I like to try to scratch them off of other people

Croutons or bacon bits: blackberries please

Favorite childhood toy: sticks, rocks, and dirt

Shoe size: 3 (that's in babyland, folks)

I took pictures yesterday of the girls in their sweet matching white dresses. My best laid plans don't always turn out as I would hope, especially not when it comes to photographing my own children. Think any of the pictures were salvageable? Check them out by clicking on the link to my photography blog in the left top of the sidebar. (For some reason the link I previously embedded went to a prophesy website even though the address was correct).

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Memories in the Kitchen

I had a memory so vivid and rich that I closed my eyes and I was there. I could smell browned beef and a myriad of other smells that told me a meal was about to be served. I heard heavy work boots on the vinyl floor as hungry men came in from the cold and shut the door to the garage behind them. The warmth of her kitchen and her welcoming embrace touched my heart once again. The chairs were shuffled about as I squeezed my way behind the small table in the kitchen and everyone found a place. She quickly put a parade of miss-matched Correl dishes mounded with food on the table, enough to feed an army, but still she asked, "Do you think there will be enough?" After a prayer of thankfulness was said, we dove into the delicious meal. The meat was tender and salty and there were mash potatoes and gravy too. She said something like, "I'm so glad you could come. I just thought a roast sounded good and I needed someone to share it with." She was always doing things like that.

The memory was gone as fast as is came and behind it I remembered other events in that kitchen. We spent so much time there as my husband would take a break from farm work to say "hello" and meet up in that place. A place that was always full of warmth and welcome. Where hot coffee was brewing in the winter with cookies or zwieback waiting on a Correl plate. In the summer she always had her instant ice tea ready, even though I never liked it because it wasn't "real" like my family made. Now I love that instant stuff. I got used to it and miss her pouring the non-sweetened powder into her green Tupperware pitcher with a splash of lemon juice from the fridge and a scoop of sugar from the drawer by the stove. It's those little things that were so distinctively "her" that I miss the most.

Again I remembered another memory from her kitchen, but this one not a good one. The time in March of 2006 when I brought Emma inside and set her on the floor to play; I asked how the dr. visit was and her youngest daughter, our aunt Joyce said, "You'd better tell them." Grandma always had a way of downplaying things and she said, "Oh, the doctors think I will die in 3 weeks." I watched her fidget with her cane, so full of life and love. I was stricken and terrified, but she was not. "Doctors, what do they know?" She said with a smile and a light laugh. She'd been a nurse for over 40 years. She knew exactly what the experts were talking about and she was aware of what came next. Instead of 3 weeks, we had 3 days. 3 hard, horrible days until she was gone. I miss her still. Every time I step into her kitchen and hope she will be there. I sit down there sometimes at that little table scrunched in the corner and remember how it was. It was so perfect. It seems sometimes that I don't realize how wonderful something is until it is gone. Today is just another day, but I hope I remember it as wonderful when it is over. I guess only I have control over that.

Emma and Grandma Peters, summer 2005

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Miss Blackberry 2008

Who needs Sear Portrait Studio when you have candids like this? I have an aversion to studios anyway, but you already knew that about me. Real life is far more entertaining to me than trying to get her to sit on cue in a little room with bad lighting and an amateur photographer making minimum wage without people skills or baby skills and have an appointment than runs into nap time or lunch time. If it is a vignette you desire, I can give you a vignette.

But she has something in her teeth, so you say. This is Mandy at her finest and she is loving it.

Did I mention she loves blackberries.... just a bit...

I question my own sanity to let a baby loose with such squishy staining treat, but she was so happy. So happy.

It was easier than cleaning up the high chair.

And she had a bath right after this.

Photo session over. Time to clean up before she stays purple for life.

Be very, very thankful you do not have to change her diapers. :0

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IKEA

Is anyone out there who is local or local-ish (not loco-ish) going to IKEA anytime soon? I found some curtains that I really want, but the shipping is $27. Email me if you can help me out and we can work out an agreeable arrangement. Read More.. Read More..

Blackberry Hospitality

I had a bunch of ladies over today to enjoy our bountiful blackberries and to play in the yard with their kids. All the MOPS moms were invited and 5 came with their children. It was really fun and I always think, "I should do this more often." And I really should. I spent WAY too much time cleaning and preparing for everyone and that is really not what hospitality is all about. How quickly I forgot the mud hut in Africa. 

I made homemade blackberry ice cream and it was SO yummy. We all really enjoyed it, but I didn't make very much. We were all wishing for some more. I'll post the recipe on Food Love soon.

If you are wondering about the puky Emma, she is recovered. Since yesterday after lunch she's been just normal. I love having my healthy and vibrant girl back. Oh, she loves having friends over to play. She did not worry about her room being a mess or that her friends might think she is a slob. She just played and showed them her things and loaned bathing suits (even trying to outfit the boys).

The kids really like the ice cream and sat down like this without coaxing.

I held Clara for a little bit and she is just SO different than Mandy. The two are only a month apart in age, but Mandy outweighs Clara by about 5 pounds and sweet Clara sits still like an angel. Mandy goes and goes some more. Sometimes I wonder if Mandy's bottom itches she wiggles so much. The uniqueness is priceless.

I'm having a few more moms over later in the week to pick blackberries and will try to control myself and not do the mad cleaning rush before they come. People don't need to see a perfect house to feel special at my home. Although I bet the homemade ice cream helps a little. 

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It's Blackberry time! Mandy eats blackberries like they are going out of style. It's good to find a fruit she likes -- she is a pretty picky eater and exists on bread, cheese, and blue berries or black berries. She doesn't like veggies and only eats one bite before pushing it right back out of her mouth. Actually the other day she ate about 3 bites of broccoli. Then she was done.

We went to visit my parents this weekend. The farmer was in between crops and was desperately in need of a break. After a 90+ hour work week, we've found that spending just a day (Sunday) at home is not enough recovery time because, well, we have 2 children who still have needs. So we went to Grandma's house where free baby sitting lives. Jeff and I spent the day "away" and went shopping, ate out, and surprised cousins, Debbie (Happy Birthday!!!) and Sara with a visit. We also saw Abby, Mandy's second cousin who is just a month younger than her. Oh, she is a cutie.

I took no pictures of our adventures. What kind of photographer am I? We didn't even walk down to the lake. I usually love taking pictures on the dock. This was really a recovery trip for us. But then Emma ended up getting some weird flu bug and we headed home yesterday. Emma is still sick today and bounces from the couch with moans and groans to playing on the floor happily. I think she is on the mend. Hopefully. I must say that a puking 3 year old is much better than a puking infant. My life has been a little puky lately (how odd that my spell checker does not acknowledge "puky"). Mandy had the same sickness earlier in the week and this is what I wrote, but didn't have time to post:

If you are a mother and have a child who has thrown up, you know without a doubt that sound that precedes the explosion. Is it a little cough or a gag or even a hick-up? I can't even describe the sound, but I know it when I hear it like a 2 second warning. "Warning, warning. She's gonna blow!"

I have too much experience with the disgusting effects of vomit. Emma was such a puky kid. Spit up is one thing and she did that in great quantity and frequency until after she was 1 year old. She also threw up with every tooth that popped through her gums. It caught me by surprise when she got her first tooth at 10 months old. I thought she had the flu, but for the next year, teething was accompanied by fever and vomiting. Every time. It was gross.

In my vast unwanted experience I would say that cleaning up vomit from a car trumps all other times and locations of gross clean-up. Now some may argue that the middle of the night washing of ALL the bedding, and washing down walls and the spindly crib slats is worse, but I don't agree. Car clean-ups with the nasty stuff seeping into tiny crevices, washing car-seat covers, seat belts, and scrubbing endlessly to get the smell out -- it is a choice of clean-up I hope you don't have to make. All other vomiting episodes can be over-looked as common place minor inconveniences. 

Emma has thrown up in many locations and I got to know that sound and the symptoms that preceded the explosion very well. It happens quickly though and sometimes I didn't have time to get a container or rush her to the toilet. Even with the warning sound, they are unpredictable creatures, suffering in the discomfort of a sour belly. There were so many times she missed the mark and there was a little nastiness in the bowl and the rest on the floor or that dreaded streak of vomit as we ran for cover.

You may wonder at my point and I do have one. I heard the warning sound from Mandy today and it was even preceded with symptoms that I was too busy to notice. Mandy woke up really grumpy from her nap, crying and just really irritated. She was not happy with anything. She didn't want a bottle. She didn't want a snack. She did NOT want me to put her down and was acting really lethargic. I hung a load of clothes out on the line and she cried in the grass the whole time. When I picked her up to finally go inside, she was burning up. Thinking she must have been too hot, I tried changing her clothes and offering her a bottle again -- more crying. I managed to make dinner while holding her lethargic hot body that I finally realized had a fever and I gave her Motrin. The poor baby was almost asleep in my arms, but I had to pack up dinner and leave.

I was still in the kitchen holding Mandy and finishing up the food when I heard the little hick-up cough that sent alarm bells ringing in my heard. "Warning, warning. She is about to blow." And blow she did. In one stealthy motion I tipped her little body toward the sink. Her projection was perfect and she made a perfect shot into the garbage disposal. I would say beautiful, but it was anything but beautiful. Never in my life have I even come close to avoiding vomit clean-up like this. I wiped my baby's face -- and cooed softly to her, of course since the sweet thing was suffering -- and ran water in the disposal and flipped the switch. I ran some bleach down the hole for good measure and was out the door. Okay, okay, I did not run beach down the disposal, but as I was typing, it really seemed like bleach would have been the sanitary thing to do. If anything, I want my blog to be an accurate portrayal.

Mandy was feeling better and so was I. Could it be that I finally have all the answers to mothering figured out? Oh, that would be nice if it were true. Or could it be that I was just at the right place at the right time? More likely. One tragedy was averted and it is on to the next one. Because I am sure there will be a next time. I am sure there is no way on earth I can make it through the rest of my years in paradise without dawning rubber gloves to clean out my car and car seat that are barfed all over or wake in the middle of the night to hear the warning hick-up and subsequent eruption that says, "Too late, Mom. Time to get up and clean up the mess." There will be another day. Another day to think back on the time Mandy puked in the garbage disposal. It was a good day.

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