Happy Father's Day 2011

Random

Bird Cookies

Child's Apron

Outdoor Play area Ideas

Love the Idea of this "on the day you were born" book

Ideas for sending help to Japan
Fruit Leather and more recommendations for making fruit leather

To be a runner

What if you felt like running everywhere you needed to go? Down the hall, to the backyard, over to the couch, or down the path to the barn? And what if you didn’t just jog, but you ran as FAST as you were capable of, often barefoot, chest just slightly forward, the wind blowing the hair from your forehead, your arms and legs swinging and pumping like compact, effortless pistons? What if you occasionally fell down in front of people only to get right back and run again? What if you felt like the fastest person to ever run? And what if you ran simply because running seems like the most natural and right thing you could possibly do in the moment?

What if...........

This Moment

Copied from Soulemama's website.
{this moment} - A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Cue Music....

*Note: "Smaller and Hairier" is a reference to Carnie's question the other day, "Daddy, when will your knee get small and hairy again?"

*Note 2: The reason Bryan is forgoing noggin protection? We found a bike helmet carcass not too long ago. I'll give one picture hint as to the culprit:

On Apologizing

I am not one to apologize easily. Nor do I exactly come from what I would call a family of apologists. Don't get me wrong; I've always yearned to be like those who can sincerely and humbly admit their "wrong" without any justifications. I feel sorry plenty; I've just never been very good at saying it (okay... sometimesI SUCK at saying it, Bryan, but I'm getting better. ;))

That was before I became a mother--with major DAILY blunders and a new-found need to vocalize my mistakes in the most heartfelt and clear manner I can muster. Not that I have to muster, really. It's never been easier to say, "I was wrong. I am sorry I handled X this way. Next time, I will do my best to...." (and I've said it plenty in the last couple of years, down on my knees in fact, in order to get to eye level). Then I have to actually follow through on that promise, hope that it is enough to assuage hurt feelings, and wonder if in some small way my apologizing will help my daughters to find their own humility in time. This last one, especially, requires patient parental waiting.

And then....this morning, several minutes after being on the receiving end of some harshly spoken words, I heard a softly-spoken, "I'm sorry, Mama" come from the other room. I peeked around the corner to make sure I had heard what I thought I heard. I saw Jenna shyly and quickly glance at me before concentrating again on her "people." She didn't repeat her apology--which means that saying it the first time wasn't easy--which makes it an even greater personal victory.

I accepted her apology of course without further ado, but I thought "good for you, Jenna....good for you...you just did one of the most difficult things and you appear to be learning it like decades before I did...AND you healed the hurt in the process.

*Important Mothering Note--actually this qualifies as an Important Human Being Note: OMG Immediate lecturing and pressuring to apologize might not be the route to go. Data to support last statement: On this particular occasion, Jenna had the opportunity to apologize of her own volition because I gave her space (not time-out) and silence (not to be confused with silence of the silent treatment sort) to do so. Wiiiillllldddd.  :)

*Another important Note to Husband: Daddy apologizes frequently, sincerely, and well. The kids and Mom have an excellent "I'm sorry" model with Dad too, so this post is not to be confused as a mother taking credit here. (Well, maybe I am taking a little credit). I guess the equation would be Mom + Dad (squared) + Jenna (cubed). :)

Grandma Came to Stay with Us

Grandma stayed at our house several days during a flood of historic proportions.  As the floodwater crept toward her house, filling the sideyard, we decided it was time to move her.  We packed up much of her furniture and got what we could up off the floor.

Where did she go?  She stayed with us.  We moved her little brown chair into the living room and set up her bed in Caroline's bedroom.  She sat smiling and reading, content to watch the kids play.  She requested my grilled cheese and apples two days in a row for lunch and read The Night Fairy herself after I finished reading it aloud to the kids on the couch next to her chair.  Here's the only photo I have of her staying with us.  

*This post is backdated.  I am writing this in 2014 from memory.