He Was a Good Dog

Little Boy

My little 4-year-old is so cute sometimes that he makes my heart melt. Sure, he still thinks he's the boss; he and his sister had an argument about it just the other day. But. . .

Our memory poem for February was Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken," and little boy memorized it, too. I wish you could hear him recite those words I'm not sure he even understands: "Two roads diverged in a lellow* wood, and sorry I could not travel both. . . "

Those sorts of things make my heart do flip-flops.

Now. Last week my baby boy moved out of our room and into his own new big boy bed. The mattress came in a box, and it was a big family occasion to watch it be unpacked and expand. Kids were bouncing around so thickly in that room that a good picture with no kids in it was hard to come by.

The mattress-- all rolled up

Unrolled and mostly inflated

We let the bed air out for a night before tucking him in it for the first time. He half broke my heart and half cracked me up when he said, "Mom! I don't need you to tuck me in! I can do it myself!" We tucked him in anyways. 

Very Fun Box

He loves his new bed, but I think he's had a lot more fun with the box it came in. That box entertained the little ones for at least an entire afternoon. In addition to crawling in and out of it, they also used it as a slide. I heard lots of imagination floating around that day.

In many ways, my son is growing up, but the little boy in him still crawls in bed with us in the morning to cuddle. Thank goodness.

*I'm sure many in my family remember a time when my cousin Becky was similarly too cute for words when talking about her favorite colors-- "red and lellow."

Thursday Things

The weather has been so warm here the last few days that the kids were outside in short-sleeves playing. Some were even begging for the air conditioner to be turned on! That didn't happen. At least it feels cooler this morning.

I've been too busy to blog much lately, so I've saved up a few random thoughts.

1.  Wonderful Wednesday. Yesterday was a lovely day. I was able to spend some time outside with the kids. Reading a good book (E. B. White's Trumpet of the Swan) aloud to your children in the woods with sunshine on your arms does wonders for a body.

I also saw pretty things outside which cheered me up. All of these added a touch of color to our brown "winter" world.

Bluebird house

Tulips popping up

My yellow crocuses! (Or is that croci?)

And if all that pretty was not enough, later in the day after a quick shower, God gifted us with this rainbow.

2.  Child Development.  The baby is at that funny/cute stage where she likes to "hide" by sitting in plain view and covering her eyes. We crack up every time it happens, and that is several times a day. If she can't see us, we can't see her! (Note: I fully recognize that my "baby" is actually a toddler, but she is still the baby.)

3.  Bookish Podcast. My high school BFF recently joined together with some of her co-workers to created a podcast about books they read. It is called Unabridged, and you can find it here. In their words:

Unabridged - Four Teachers Take on Books is a podcast that comes from the desire to share a love of reading, cultivate a reading community, and invite students to become lifelong readers. 

I have listened to a couple of the episodes, and I wish I had more time to read. I also love hearing more of Jen's voice since we don't get to talk often. I am making a prediction that she will never not love a book they review. If you listen, you will learn that she is a real book lover.


4.  Another Place to Shop.  Recently a new family has been coming from afar to our little church-- and they have children! That's always exciting for a small church, you know. Anyway, their three older girls are crafty and have started a business. It is called KovalKreations and can be found here or on Etsy.  Right now they have some beautiful girls' clothing and baskets. I am in awe of their skills.

5. Vintage. And speaking of Etsy, after a long Christmas break so we could arrange things in our updated home, we jumped right back into Sideling View Crafts. I finally sold one pattern in January! And because we have developed an auction habit, I started listing some vintage items.

I'm still listing things because I have quite an accumulation of stuff and not an accumulation of time. Below is a cute vintage children's book I listed this week.

And that's all for Thursday because my family needs to eat breakfast!

Good Puppy!

I was at the computer last week when I happened to look behind me.

My littlest had put the toy doggy in Calvin's kennel. She was so sweet to include a doggy toy. She was also "reading" to her dog from all of her beloved Pookie books (Sandra Boynton).

This is now a regular part of her play. Several times I've had to let the dear puppy out of the kennel because Calvin wanted in.

And if you want to buy some fun board books for a toddler, go with the ones by Sandra Boynton. Our little ones have all loved them.

A Very Good Pi Day

Tuesday was a good day in our home. 

For starters--

Snow!

We finally got some snow to enjoy. Our total (before it quit snowing) was somewhere between 8 and 10 inches. Yes, we like to do things properly and exactly around here. 

So the kids celebrated Pi Day by playing in the snow in the morning.

We also celebrated Pi Day by having circle waffles. Except they mostly broke apart into fourths. But, hey, we were able to fit them back into circles on our plates. And that counts. 

We also ate chowder in bowls which are circles on the top, and the kids' individual pizzas for supper were in a sort of circular shape. Again, I'm not really precise with everything.

But, by far, the very best thing about Pi Day was that we got to see pictures of and hear all about our new niece who was born Monday evening-- all healthy and cute. And that was the exact and precise thing I had prayed for. Well, not exactly. I only prayed for the healthy part; I assumed the cute part.

_The Hancock News_ Column--March 8, 2017

I grew up in West Virginia, and I’m proud of my heritage. But when I was young, once in a while I did feel self-conscious about my home.

For example, when I visited my family on the west coast, I often met new people who, upon hearing I was from West Virginia, immediately looked at my feet. I always assumed they were checking to see if my hillbilly self was wearing shoes.

Maybe I was oversensitive and imagining all of that. But I did not make up my aunts and uncles teasing me about my accent. That was real, and in my travels out-of-state, I met up with many others who commented on my way of talking.

Several years later, my self-consciousness about how I talked caused me to pick Latin in college over the French I’d studied for three years in high school. I figured the professor might not appreciate my French accent with an Appalachian twist. I knew Latin was a dead language, and I wouldn’t be required to converse in it.

So that is why I didn’t learn to speak a second language until recently. Now I am quite fluent in baby talk, and, boy, am I thankful. My sweet little daughter jabbers at lightning speed sometimes. Please allow me to translate for you.

Many of Anna’s words are almost the same or identical to what we say in English-- apple, cracker, cookie, and eat. Perhaps her favorite word is the emphatic, “No!”

“Bonk!” means that she just bumped her head, sometimes on purpose so she can say, “Bonk!” “Up” means that she wants picked up. However, “Da-da” can also mean she wants to be picked up, or, more obviously, it can mean Daddy.

“Be-be” is what she calls the baby dolls she drags around. “Na-na,” accompanied by a finger-shake, is what she says accusingly when her brother naughtily steals one of those be-bes away. A heavy panting noise with her tongue hanging out means she’s telling you about Calvin, our dog.

“Pant-pant na-na be-be bonk!” means Calvin is naughty because he whacked her with his tail and caused her to drop a doll and fall down and hit her head.

However, she still lacks the words to say, “I am the queen, and I haven’t invited you to look at or speak to me. Remember my superiority.” When she wants to say something along those lines, she scrunches up her nose and puckers up her mouth in a sassy, exaggerated kissy face; I call it her snooty face. And, because she’s my daughter, I like to imagine she snoots with a little bit of hillbilly West Virginia twang.

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In our great United States, lines blur between languages and cultures. That’s why a West Virginian (who was born in California and lives in Maryland) can give you a recipe for Mexican pot roast modified from an African-American cookbook.

The original recipe calls for some flour and for browning the meat up on all sides before roasting it, but I simplified it by throwing it in the crockpot as is. I’ve tried it both ways, and I see no difference. Our favorite way to eat this is to shred the meat, spoon a little of the juices over it, and eat it on tacos, but it’s also good served over rice.

Mexican Pot Roast

chuck roast

1 tsp. chili powder

2 tsp. paprika

1 tsp. salt

2 medium onions

10 whole cloves

2 cinnamon sticks

1 cup water

Combine chili powder, paprika, and salt. Rub mixture all over the roast. Then stud each onion with 5 cloves. Put meat, onions, cinnamon sticks and water in a crockpot and cook on low for 6-8 hours until tender. If you have a chance, turn the roast over after a couple of hours.

Serve meat sliced or shredded with some of the juices spooned over the top.

*This post has been shared at Strangers & Pilgrims on Earth for The Art of Home-Making Monday.

_The Hancock News_ Column-- September 14, 2016

The crickets competed with the frogs to drown out my husband’s voice as he told bedtime stories to our children when we camped in our backyard last week. The kids strained their ears to hear his stories about Charley and his wonderful house, cowboys, or the new three little pigs. Whatever tale he weaves, the children are captivated. His stories have the power to calm their fears and chase away the bogeyman. 

Whether made-up or true, stories have a certain magic. They change things. My whole day changed on Saturday when my mother-in-law excitedly told me the story of how my brother-in-law and his wife revealed they were expecting their first baby. My heart melted with the sweetness of the moment, and ever since then, I’ve been a little bit giddy when I think about a new niece or nephew.

But this time of year also has me thinking about darker and sadder stories. Six years ago this week, I suffered our first miscarriage. All the joy and expectation surrounding that fifth child turned into a lump of nearly unbearable sorrow that I lugged around with me at all times. 

And then the stories started being told. Church members, family, friends, and even strangers told me the stories of their own sadness. Unlike the typical birth story that details every moment of labor and delivery, these stories were short. Most women simply told me that they, too, had lost a baby before birth. The kindness and sympathy in their eyes told all the story I needed to know. I was not carrying my burden alone.

I was surprised by how many people I knew who had miscarried, friends and family who had never told me about it before. For some, I was the first person who’d ever heard their story. It seemed I was now part of a grim sisterhood connected by these painful stories. 

Oddly enough, it was these sad stories that brought me earthly comfort. While they didn’t promise that the sadness would all go away, they changed my outlook. I could see that life carried on for these strong women and that it would continue for me, too. 

These stories changed me, and now I’ve shared my story with you. If you know of a hurting mother, share this story with her so that she might know she is not alone. If you have suffered through miscarriage, please don’t be scared or ashamed to share your pain with others. Your simple words have the power to calm fears, chase away a little of the darkness, and to heal both the listener and the teller.

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This time of year is also back-to-school time. If your children are like mine, after school time is a hungry time. unfortunately, it is also a time when I don’t have much mental energy to think of a good snack to make. 

Do your children have a favorite afternoon snack? Please email me your favorite snack ideas so that I can share them in a future column. Until then, try out my healthier version of a milkshake. I used to drink this for a quick breakfast before I headed out the door for school when I was a teacher, but it’s a good snack in the afternoon, too.

Peanut Butter Banana Milk

2 Tbsp. peanut butter

1 ripe banana

2 cups cold milk

Blend all ingredients together in a blender. Pour into a cup and drink it down, no cookies necessary. Of course, a little chocolate syrup never hurt anybody!

Bad News, Good News

The bad news is that the two-year-old has learned how to lie-- on purpose.

The good news is that he's bad at it. A twinkle in the eye and a mischievous grin give him away.

_The Hancock News_ Column-- October 7, 2015

It seems to me, the more you do something, the easier it should get. Riding a bike is a good example. Sure, you fall off a few (dozen) times, but soon it becomes no big deal.

So why is it that having a baby seems more difficult each time? You’d think that by the seventh birth, I’d have this job down pat. But no, it’s still a mightily daunting task--downright scary.

For me, the whole pregnancy started out tough. Instead of my normal three months of constant nausea, I suffered through almost four months of being sick.

Then soon followed some painful varicose veins in my feet.

Then there was the poison ivy incident.

Then I had to prick my finger four times a day to check my blood sugar to keep gestational diabetes in line. My summer was not filled with many ice cream cones.

Then there was the heartburn that during the last month had me up for an hour or two most nights.

And then came a couple of contractions that had me so excited I could barely sleep a wink. That happened for a few nights in a row.

Then as the sun came up on my son’s 8th birthday, it dawned on me that this might be the day our new baby was born. I kissed my birthday boy, and fearful of a labor progressing too quickly to get to the hospital, my husband and I headed to Hagerstown to walk around until closer to delivery time.

Our fears were completely unfounded, and after a day of stop-and-go labor pains, I finally found myself in a hospital room, discouraged, impatient, and just plain tired. 

Then the water broke, and I was thankful labor finally progressed.

Then I wanted it to stop.

Then I irrationally insisted that somebody make it all go away, just make the labor pains stop!

Well. Then they stopped. 

Then there was a full head of dark hair, ten fingers, ten toes, 9 pounds, 2 ounces, that first blessed cry, my complete joy.

There was my daughter. The center of my universe. The only thing I could see, hear, touch, or smell. It’s funny how quickly all those pregnancy complaints disappear, replaced by the very bundle of near-perfection that caused them in the first place.

Still cute under the crazy lights.

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Our sweet daughter ended up not being born on our son’s birthday, and he was happy to retain the day as his own special one. Instead, she was born just before 1:30 a. m. In fact, all three of my daughters have been born between 1:20 and 1:30 in the morning. What are the odds of that happening?

My favorite eats after giving birth are Lorna Doone cookies--perfect for a midnight (or a little later) snack. I’d never heard of them before I had children, but the hospital where my first son was born had them available for new parents. Those cookies have became part of my birth routine. However, if you’d like to make some shortbread cookies of your own, this recipe is mighty yummy, too.

Butter Pecan Shortbread Cookies

1 cup butter, softened

1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar

2 1/4 cups flour

1/2 cup finely chopped pecans

Cream butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy. Gradually add flour until blended. Stir in pecans. Divide dough in half and chill at least 1 hour.

Roll dough to 1/4 inch thick between layers of waxed paper. Cut to desired shapes. Place greased baking sheet on top of cookies, invert, and remove waxed paper.

Bake at 300ºF for 18-20 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove immediately to a wire rack to cool.


**This post has been shared at Strangers & Pilgrims on Earth for The Art of Home-Making Mondays.

Our Baby

We finally welcomed our new baby, a beautiful daughter, into our family last week. After my lengthiest hospital stay yet, we finally arrived home on Saturday.

Dear daughter spent some time under the lights for jaundice.

But she finally wore this cute sleeper that Daddy picked out when she came home.

Now that we are home, we are adjusting (and sleeping) relatively well. The other children are as in love as her parents are. Even the former "baby" doesn't seem jealous at all. He picked up on all the baby routines quickly and now instructs me as to what I should do to change diapers, feed her, etc.--all with points and grunts and simple words like her name.

I must add how very, very, very thankful we are to all of those who helped us with childcare. I don't know what we would have done without such kindness being shown to us.

A New Arrival

This probably isn't what most of you expected seeing as Labor Day is nearly gone and still no signs of labor, but. . .

Here is our new (to us) van!

Looks like a box, but a pretty blue box

Floor mats my husband and I made with carpet remnants

And we are still expecting the new arrival to our family. I'm not very patient about it. I think it's fitting that the Bible verse we memorized last week was Psalm 27: 14-- "Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!"


My husband's family is here to help us when the baby comes (at least until Thursday). My youngest brother-in-law just finished a beautiful blanket for our new baby whenever it does show up. It's so nice that people still bless us with new things, special things, for each baby to have as his or her own.

Thank you, Isaiah!

Now. Back to the waiting.

The Hancock News Column-- July 29, 2015

Before a baby is born, other than forming a baby bump on Mom, it’s nearly invisible. When somebody lays a hand on that belly bump, we say we can feel the baby kick, but honestly, we don’t know if what we feel is a kick, a punch or maybe even a hiccup. Likewise, when we glimpse images on an ultrasound screen, if we’re truthful, we usually can’t actually distinguish a nose from an elbow unless it’s pointed out to us.
 
Once that baby’s born, however, it goes from being invisible to being the center of the world. Baby cries, and Mom or Dad or both jump to attention. We call this cute wriggling bundle a baby, but really he is the boss.
 
The boss of my life for almost two years will soon be replaced. No, I’m not trading him in for a newer model, but a new baby will be taking his place as The Baby of the family. Sure, he’ll always be my baby, just as all of my children are still my babies, but in less than two months, he will no longer own the title of The Baby.
 
I was The Baby for the first ten years of my life, and when my nephew arrived to dethrone me, it was a tough adjustment. Maybe that’s why I feel guilt each time a new baby is about to be born, a certain empathy for the new big brother or sister.
 
As these last few weeks fill with preparations for the new baby, I find myself cherishing those last moments with the old model of The Baby. So, my Baby, here’s to you.


 

The Baby among wild blueberries

I love how you kiss Mommy and Daddy, wave bye-bye, toddle over to your toy car, and ride away across the living room.
 
I love how you talk on the "phone"–your chubby bare foot held up to your ear.
 
Although I must take it away, I admit I think it’s so cute when you run as fast as you can to grab the remote control whenever Daddy leaves it within your reach.
 
I love it when you have entire conversations with me, imitating grown-up gestures and inflections– all without saying a single intelligible word.
 
I look forward to each new word, but I love it when you say, "I, I!" instead of "Me, me!" If I need help unloading the dryer or the dishwasher, I can always count on you to say, "I, I!" Thank you for your willingness to help.
 
You exasperate me when you tell me you need a diaper change by bringing me a new diaper but then run away so I have to chase you to change it. And when you escape outdoors whenever somebody forgets to lock the door. And when you drink bath water until you burp. Or toilet water.
 
Your cute curls melt my heart.
 
But by far, what I cherish most about you right now is when your little baby hands pull me from the recliner to my feet and drag me into the bedroom when you’re ready for bed. Then you place those sweet hands on my cheeks, give me a kiss, and hug my neck so tight, as if you never want to let go.
 
And I wrap my arms around you and hold on tighter because you are so tangible and sweet and because for now, for just a few weeks more, you are still The Baby, and it’s so hard to let The Baby go.
 

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Currently, The Baby loves his vegetables. He polishes off mountains of green beans, cucumbers, or cherry tomatoes whenever possible. We’re fortunate in that since right now we have mountains of fresh vegetables available– especially green beans.
 
While the baby likes to eat the green beans raw while we’re snapping them in the evening (or drop them on the floor for the dog to eat), he devours them by the plateful when I cook them like this. Once again, feel free to make this recipe your own. Add a few crushed red peppers if you like things spicy. Throw in a chopped up zucchini or yellow squash if you have one withering away on the counter. I’ve even added a few slices of fresh lemon to brighten things up– just discard the lemon before serving. Dill weed is a favorite of mine, especially the fresh stuff that keeps re-seeding itself in our garden.
 
Fresh and Tasty Green Beans
 
1 pound (give or take) fresh green beans, snapped
1 onion, chopped
2-4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 Tbsp. fat (butter, olive oil, or tastier bacon grease)
1 cup chicken broth (you can substitute water in a pinch)
1 tsp. salt (or less)
pepper, to taste
 
In a large skillet or Dutch oven, saute the onion in the fat for about 2 minutes. Throw in the garlic and cook for a minute. Add the green beans and cook for about a minute, until they turn bright green. Next add the chicken broth, salt, and pepper, give it a stir, turn the heat to low, and cover it with a lid, cooking for about 20-25 minutes until beans are tender. Uncover beans partially for the last few minutes of cooking time to let some of the liquid evaporate.



**This post has been shared at Strangers & Pilgrims at Home for The Art of Home-Making Mondays.

_The Hancock News_ Column-- March 18, 2015

It used to be that my husband was able to make it to every single one of my prenatal appointments. Even after we had two children, we could handle them for the short appointment, and they liked being able to “help” the midwives measure Mommy’s belly and listen to the “choo-choo” of the baby’s heartbeat with the help of the doppler machine.

After our third baby was born, things changed. My husband and I were outnumbered. No longer could my husband come with me unless we had a babysitter to watch the children.

Instead, a new tradition gradually began. Each older child had a turn to go with me to an appointment. Somewhere along the way, this one-on-one time together turned into a “Mommy date.” 

Last Wednesday was to be the special day with my oldest daughter. She would be the first to hear our new baby’s heartbeat. After the appointment, we would spend a couple of hours together in the city. I had planned to take her to a cafe/bakery for lunch, and then we would walk a couple of blocks through the downtown area to a shop I had seen before that featured cute hair bows for little girls. It was going to be a fun girls’ day out.

Well, Wednesday didn’t go as planned. 

For starters, that sweet little baby swimming around inside of me simply wouldn’t stop moving around, so we didn’t hear a clear heartbeat. 

Then when we parked downtown, I stepped in dog poo on the sidewalk. The bakery had no pretty cupcakes as we’d hoped, and after walking the several blocks to find the little girls’ bow shop, we discovered it had closed and another shop was in its place. My daughter was more than a little disappointed.

Everything I had promised my daughter fell through. I’m not often able to spend such alone time with my children, and now I had failed at the whole Mommy date thing. I felt lousy.

But after the initial disappointments, my daughter bounced back. Although she didn’t like the soup and only ate the minimum of her BLT to have dessert, she had no problem filling her belly with a yummy brownie and chocolate shake. What a treat!

She also enjoyed browsing through the bead store instead of the bow store, and on our walk, I even found a large dirty pile of snow that was perfect for cleaning the mess off of my shoe.

In the end, my daughter was happy just spending time with me. It wasn’t the day I’d planned, but it was memorable and special just the same.

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My children love spending time in the kitchen with me, and one of their favorite recipes to make is really not much of a recipe at all. Just as there’s more than one way to spend a perfect day with your child, there are tons of ways to make peanut butter balls. In fact, sometimes there’s even so little peanut butter in them that we call them “Not Peanut Butter Balls.”

While there’s not one perfect recipe for peanut butter balls, it does certainly help to have a food processor, especially if you decide to use some dried fruit or another ingredient that needs chopped to smithereens. However, for the basic recipe, you could stir it all together by hand.

Please note that this is one of those recipes you could use to sneak some healthy things like seeds, nuts, or dried fruits into your child’s diet. They might not eat something on it’s own, but pulverized in a processor and mixed up with peanut butter, they’ll have no clue!

Peanut Butter Balls

1 cup peanut butter (whatever kind you prefer--we use the natural kind)

1 cup honey (less if you don’t like things so sweet)

2 cups powdered milk

Mix all ingredients together in a food processor and roll into walnut-sized balls. If you can wait, chill them in the refrigerator. Otherwise, gobble them down right away with a glass of milk!

Variations:  We have used almond butter instead of peanut butter and dried fruits for most of the sweet stuff. Sometimes we don’t have powdered milk, and use oats or graham cracker crumbs instead. The key is to find a balance of flavors and texture. If you find that your mixture is too dry and crumbly, add something moist like more peanut butter, honey, or butter. If it is too oily or moist, add something dry like powdered milk, cornflakes, or whatever you have on hand. If it needs sweetness, add honey or even leftover frosting.

*This post has been shared at Strangers & Pilgrims on Earth for The Art of Home-Making Mondays.

It's a Sssssnap!

I'm not especially keen on handing out parenting advice to people without being asked. Sure, I have more than the average number of children, but parenting styles are so different. I might think I have the best way to feed my child, but you may do the complete opposite and have a healthy child anyway. 

I hope it's not too obnoxious for me to offer up this advice. You see, I've lately been reminded of the usefulness of one of my favorite parenting "tricks" because my little one is at the stage of refusing to lie still for an entire diaper change no matter what toy I give him for distraction. 

For those of you who are charged with keeping squirmy bottoms clean and dry, I have one more weapon for you to add to your arsenal. This trick of the trade has been about 75% effective for all of my children.

If you've finished up with the diaper itself, and baby just won't be still to be snapped up (onesies, sleepers, etc.), try this. Say the word, "snap," but emphasize the beginning sound. Sound like a snake, and only finish the word just as you're snapping that particular snap. Repeat for each snap. I get quiet attention, giggles, and sometimes they even hiss along with me, but I almost always get a still and cooperative baby.

It's worth a try. If it doesn't work, you're out nothing. If it does, your day is that much simpler. 

Do you have any other simple parenting tricks that are free and easy that have really worked for you? Please comment and let me know because I need all the tricks up my sleeve I can gather.

Requiem for Baby

Today was hard for our family. Baby had to be put down.

Old picture. Nobody would want to see Baby today.

I went out to check on the guineas, and the blood we had seen the last couple of days was still there. There was no new blood, but I did notice something I hadn't noticed before. Baby's foot, far away from Baby. We're thinking frostbite was an issue although we did our best to keep Baby warm in this brutal cold.

I told my husband, and he went out to do his duty. The children stayed inside, wailing, with me. It wasn't easy. They had questions of "why?" and resolved that we needed to bury Baby. Some of them felt the need to troop out with Daddy to dig the hole and bury our poor, picked-on guinea.

Today was a tough day to be the mother, to be the one trying to explain death and comfort. I know all the Biblical answers, so far as we are able to know. I know to share our Comfort, but their little hearts still grieved. More than one of them made a connection between Baby's death and the eventual death of their grandparents. Dealing with this is just not easy.

However, I am not the only one today dealing with the loss of a baby. An acquaintance of mine lost her own baby yesterday unexpectedly, her 15-year-old son. I'm sure she, too, was struggling not only with her own grief, but how to explain to and comfort her living children.

My struggle pales in comparison. May God be with you and yours, friend.

Done With Winter

I know I have absolutely no control over the weather, but I don't want any more winter.

I've experienced the things I like about winter-- hot chocolate, Christmas, watching the kids play in the snow, cuddling under my wool blanket, seeing the pretty ice on Sideling Hill, and I think that's where my list ends.

These are the reasons I can't wait for spring.

Cold. I don't like being cold. In the morning, I  take care of the guineas, and it's just too cold for me. The guineas don't like the snow either, and I miss watching them run around like crazy.

I feel cooped up. The children are cooped up. When they play outside, they don't stay out for long.

I'm ready for green things poking up.

And most of all, in spring I hope this horrible-wonderful first trimester nausea is through with me. Around the same time spring pops out, my stomach should be tired of being the dictator of my life for a while. Sunflower seeds and lemon seltzer water won't need to be my near-constant companions, and I'll be able to go into a grocery without fear.

Auntsy in Advent

I'm absolutely auntsy (a term my son coined) over the impending arrival of another baby. My sister-in-law is expecting her second baby, and the due date is this week. Because they live too far away, I rarely see her firstborn, my niece, but that doesn't seem to dampen my excitement. Somehow, expecting a new niece or nephew seems to complement nicely the expectation of the Advent season.

Advent is important to our family. We have so many family traditions based around the season before "The Season".

Of course, there's the Advent wreath we like to light each evening with special devotions and the memorization of a stanza or two of an Advent hymn. And there's Wednesday evening church with a capella singing of hymns. Early in Advent we begin getting out the Christmas things: first the box of children's books, then decorations. Each child gets to pick a favorite cookie to bake, and the tree goes up last.

Our wreath with crooked candles sitting in it's box

This year we're a little more than just behind. We've used the Advent wreath only three times. I'm ashamed to say that, whether it's due to a child who hasn't had a nap or a mom who's just frazzled, the kids and I haven't made it to a single Advent service. All the books and decorations are still in the basement, and although the cookies have been chosen, nary a bowl or spoon has been dirtied in making them.

Part of me is disappointed, but the other part of me is okay with my failings. Afterall, if I were perfect, I suppose I wouldn't need Christ--you know, the Baby-King we're all more than a little excited about welcoming this time of year.

This post was shared at Sister, Daughter, Mother, Wife for their Advent Link-up Party and at Strangers & Pilgrims on Earth for The Art of Home-making Monday.

Baby Quilt Time

Our youngest tot just turned one. It always comes as such a surprise, and I'm not sure why. Before that birthday, they're babies. Just regular old babies. Then it seems they hit that big birthday and all sorts of growing up happens, and they are a totally different kind of bigger baby.

That's what happened with my baby.

Oh, well. At least the "new" baby is still special and cute.  In some ways, he's even cooler because he's started doing all sorts of baby tricks.

One thing he's into now (if I put it down) is his new baby quilt that my aunt made for him and arrived last week.

I think it looks like the frogs are playing Ring-Around-the-Rosie.

Each time I have a baby, I look forward to the quilt. Every quilt is one-of-a-kind with their birth information recorded on the back. She even made one two for me--but that's a blog post all by itself. She is a great quilter, in my biased opinion.