First Harvest

Since the chipmunks dispatched the sugar pea plant, we have been waiting for our first beans and zucchini. Today the kids got to help pick them. They ate the first beans immediately (thank God we garden organically) so there are a few missing.




And here are the boys, doing what they do best; helping screen compost.

Governor Palin is stepping down

About 20 minutes ago, media outlets reported that Alaska Governor Sarah Palin is resigning from office. Speculations run the gamut of personal problems, health issues, and a bid for the Presidency in 2012.

A few minutes after the initial announcement, this tweet came from the Ohio Secretary of State, Jennifer Brunner:

Maybe Pres. Obama is appointing her Ambassador to Russia, since it's in her backyard.
15 minutes ago from mobile web

Now, this is the kind of tweet that I expect to see from some of the Liberals that I follow on Twitter, or a MSM pundit, NOT from the Secretary of State of Ohio. This was my immediate response:

@JenniferBrunner I would have thought that the Secretary of State of Ohio might be able to rise above the snark. I guess not.
7 minutes ago from TwitterFox

Now, I'm not going into the whole "I can see Russia from my window" thing, as anyone with half a brain knows that this was a line from a Saturday Night Live sketch, and was never uttered by Gov. Palin.

Let me be the 23,567th person to admit that Gov. Palin's interview with Katie Couric, where she stumbles over the answer to a question about Alaska's proximity to Russia and how it relates to her foreign policy experience, is less than articulate. And I don't plan on rehashing the argument of President Obama's limited experience as a U.S. Senator, Vice President Biden's firm position as a cog in the 'old school' Washington wheel, etc. But those are logical arguments that tend to fall on deaf ears.

I don't expect everyone to like Sarah Palin. Some Conservatives I know voted for Obama just because they couldn't stand her. I understand when you don't like a particular person in the political arena, but I'm amazed by the personal attacks from so many on the Left. She is a pro-life, pro-Second Amendment, pro-drilling, fiscal and social Conservative, and because of this she's attacked as ignorant and stupid. Just before the election, I overheard a woman in a coffee shop telling another woman that "someone should revoke Palin's female card," and went on to say that she should be taking care of her baby instead of running around the country. Why was the same argument not used against Joe Biden, when he took office as a U.S. Senator when his wife and child had just been killed?

As if being a Conservative and a woman is mutually exclusive.

I'm the first to admit that I don't agree with her on a lot of issues (I think she's very myopic with regards to developing multiple forms of energy sources instead of focusing on oil), but I respect her. I think she's a strong woman who has shown her ability to organize and lead. I admire her tenacity and strength. I think she's received a lot more negative press than is called for.

I wish her luck in her future endeavors.

Garden

I've had this digital camera for over 5 years now, but haven't really learned how to use it properly. Of course, with digital zoom and auto focus, there isn't much to pointing and shooting pictures. But when I see photos like the ones my mom takes, I'm in awe of her eye for detail and how amazing her pictures turn out.

I want to master this camera and all of its functions before we get another one (George has mentioned several times that he wants a new digital video camera, and I figure we'll get an all-in-one video/still cam to save space). In the meantime, I'm going to figure out how to work this one to achieve the kinds of photos I want.

Oh, and if you find that some of the photos on our online album are out of order, it's because some weird German appropriated a photo of Georgie and was posting it on myspace. So I moved it in order to break links. Sorry for the inconvenience.

And now, some photos from the garden this morning:


cherry tomatoes growing well


Kentucky Wonder pole bean blossoms


Sugar Snap peas


cucumber flower

Library Funding

In addition to writing Governor Strickland about the library funding cuts, I also emailed my state Senator (Tom Patton) and state Representative (Nan Baker).

I received this response from Senator Patton's office this morning:

Thank you for your email. I appreciate you taking time to email me. I have always been a strong supporter of public libraries. Ohio’s libraries are some of the best in our nation and I will do my best to minimize these devastating cuts. Thank you again for your email.

Sincerely,

Tom Patton
State Senator
24th District

Dear Governor Strickland

Governor Ted Strickland
Governor's Office
Riffe Center, 30th Floor
77 South High Street
Columbus, OH 43215-6108

Dear Governor Strickland:

First, let me start by telling you what I am not: I am not a librarian. I am not a employed by any public or private library, and although I do have a sister-in-law that works for the Cleveland Public Library, I do not.

I have three children, the oldest of which is starting kindergarten this fall. All three have their own library cards, in their own names, which we applied for as soon as they had social security numbers. We are regular (read: weekly) patrons of the Fairview Park branch of the Cuyahoga County Public Library here in Fairview. We have attended Baby and Me classes, preschool reading time, met other young mothers, formed friendships with them and their children, learned vast amounts of information... all from our local library.

I have personally witnessed the positive impact our library system has had on my children through their love of books. Your proposed fifty-percent cuts to the library budgets will be detrimental to hundreds of thousands of families across our region; families like mine.

Libraries provide us with much more than books. From summer reading programs to story times, computer access to the toy lending library, we have come to know our children’s services librarians, circulation clerks, management staff, and the lady who cleans daily. The jobs and families of these individuals will be detrimentally impacted.

I am not a library employee, but I am a patron. I love my library. I am proud of my library. It has helped to educate our family and foster a love of learning. A love of books.

Please, do not threaten the future of my children by limiting access to this imperative resource.


Respectfully,

Deanna Rasch

Baby Magic

When I was a kid, my Mom used Baby Magic baby wash on us. I don't know if it was because it was cheaper than the Johnson & Johnson brand or what, but I always remember the clear Baby Magic bottle with the yellow cap.

When Georgie was born, his first bath was with Baby Magic. Ethan and Stella's first baths were in the sink and I used Baby Magic.

Not long after Ethan's birth, I was at Target to buy some more baby wash, and I noticed that there were new bottles with a different logo. I opened them and smelled; it was different. It might have said Baby Magic on the bottle, but it was most definitely not Baby Magic.

I panicked. I went to the grocery store, Wal Mart and Walgreens. No Baby Magic. I went online and Playtex's Web site only showed the strange new bottle. I called their customer service line and the representative confirmed my fears; they had discontinued the 'old' Baby Magic and had a new formula in new packaging.

I almost broke down in tears. How could my babies smell like anything other than Baby Magic? The smell of damp hair and skin, bundled into pajamas, snuggling into the crook of your neck, ready for bed after reading Guess How Much I Love You and Don't Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus. The smell of peanut butter and jelly and sun and dirt and laughter in the sandbox washed away, replaced with the smell of bedtime giggles and stories and prayers.

I did what emotionally postpartum mother would do: I went on eBay. I bought a case of my Baby Magic, and have used it since for every bath of every one of our children.

I went downstairs tonight to get another bottle, and I saw that I only have one left. On one hand, I'm deeply saddened to know that my babies won't smell like babies for long; they'll want goofy kid soap that smells like Willy Wonka threw up on them. On the other hand, I'm happy that it's lasted this long, that they all have borne the fragrance of babyhood for this long.

So tonight, after we've tucked them into their beds after stories of firefighters (George) and lifeguards (Ethan) and horses (Stella), I will dig out three of my travel bottles, pour my precious Baby Magic into each one, and put them into their memory boxes. I'm sure that the formula will change over the years, and it won't smell quite like it did when it was newly made, but I will keep it.

And I will remember.

Pork Hash Recipe

Pork loin roast in the crock pot on Tuesday, and the leftovers were used in hash. I prefer the Cuban flavors (sans olives -- ick!) but I left out the spices and raisins to please child palates. I use what I have, and although this is based on another recipe, I've done my best to make it my own.

Cuban-Style Pork Hash

Leftover pork roast, cubed or shredded
2 cups cooked rice
2 cups cooked potatoes, diced (leftovers from crock pot are fine, or frozen potatoes w/ onion)
chopped fresh or frozen vegetables (carrots, peas, green beans)
medium onion, diced
several cloves garlic, minced
28-0z can diced tomatoes, undrained
cumin, cinnamon, sliced green olives, raisins (optional, to taste)
olive oil

Heat oil in deep skillet, saute onion and garlic until softened. Add refrigerated diced potatoes and spices (if using) and cook until potatoes are tender.

Add canned tomatoes w/ juice, olives and raisins (if using), pork and rice. Cook (stirring gently so potatoes don't come apart) until mixture is heated through.

If hash seems dry, add broth or stock to moisten.

The kids don't like the spices, olives or raising, so I omit those. It's a bit blander, but they like ketchup, so I guess it doesn't really matter much. ;)

Code Yellow

Ever have one of those days when you just know you should stay home, drink tea, read books on the couch with the kids, chores and meals be damned?

Next time I'm going to listen to my instinct.

I took the children to Target today, and as I was pulling in, I noticed an older couple, probably in their sixties, loading something bulky into the back of their brand-new Jeep Cherokee (or whatever the full-sized Jeeps are called nowadays.) I looked again, and realized... it was one of the Target shopping carts!

They were stealing a cart from Target.

I was shocked... and then I was pissed. And I mean pissed. Like they were stealing my kid's bicycle out of my front yard pissed. Because of jackasses like that, prices go up and I have to pay more.

She was just getting into her Jeep by the time I got out of the van. I yelled, "That's theft, you know!" but she slammed her door and drove away.

I wrote down her license plate, description and the time, then went inside to talk to a store manager. (I have an overdeveloped sense of right and wrong, I guess.) I gave the manager the information and explained what I had seen, and she assured me that they'd contact the police.

(In fact, I just received a phone call from one of the officers in our city confirming the information. I'm glad to see they followed up on this.)

I took Stella and the boys to find the things on my list. Halfway through the soap aisle, George said, "Mommy, Ethan's gone."

I sighed. "You know, I'm really tired of Ethan not staying with me. He knows he's supposed to stay with the cart."

I waited a minute, then sent George to the next aisle over to find him. He wasn't there.

I walked several aisles in one direction, then several aisles in the other direction...

No Ethan.

Now, those of you who know me know that I am NOT a panic-stricken mother who dissolves at the sight of a minor cut. It takes quite a bit to get me worked up, and I was afraid. I went into Worst Case Scenario mode and made a beeline for the front of the store.

The Target team member I found (I think she's a manager of sorts, although not the manager I spoke to earlier) asked me for Ethan's age and description and called a Code Yellow over her walkie. In effect, every team member drops what they are doing and looks for your child. They station two team members by the doors to make sure that no children matching your child's description leaves. They keep the parents at the front lanes to watch for their child.

"... three-years old, blond hair, blue eyes, wearing a blue Buzz Lightyear shirt and brown shorts and blue tennis shoes..." It struck me odd that all of the clothes he was wearing had been purchased here at this store. The Buzz Lightyear shirt says "To infinity... and beyond!" when you push a button.

Around the corner holding the hand of a girl comes Ethan. She'd found him in the womens' clothing department, which is clear across the other side of the store. I think he started following another cart, not realizing it wasn't ours.

I thanked them profusely, then took Ethan behind one of the registers, and broke down. In tears. In the middle of Target. Which made Ethan start to cry,of course. He's more sensitive sometimes than I realize.

He apologized, nodding solemnly, big blue eyes shining and serious. "I won't ever walk away from the cart again, Mommy. And if someone bad tries to take me, I'll kick him. See, Mommy? I'm OK."

We're spending the rest of the day on the couch, reading books. Laundry and meals be damned.

Musical control

I've been listening to Amy Winehouse's "Back to Black" the last few days (the only thing that has gotten me off this "Dr. Horrible" kick I've been on for the past week.)

I can't stop singing the chorus to "Rehab."

And every time I sing "They tried to make me go to rehab," Stella says "no no no!"

It's hilarious. Finally captured on video.

(Photobucket is full of fail, so I'm linking to the FaceBook video.)

In which I speak too soon

So just this morning I blogged on how fortunate we were to avoid going to the ER last Tuesday.

And this afternoon, Ethan pushed George off the back steps and he landed on his elbow. Broke the ulna.



Took all three kids to Lakewood ER, and he's got a temporary cast until we can follow up with the orthopedic.



I texted George to let him know what was going on; he replies with "Broke crown on tooth." Great. So now I get to try and schedule a dentist appointment for him in addition to dealing with these three at the ortho tomorrow.

Wish me luck. No, wish me patience -- this kind of luck I can do without.

Veres visit veritas

OK, I know that 'veritas' means 'truth.' But I just can't let good alliteration get away from me.

Aunt Linda came over for breakfast today! And brought treats! Bagels and fruit and Panera pastries.

I had a cheese danish. Nom.

Stella warmed up to Auntie Linda when she saw that (a.) Mommy wasn't leaving; and (b.) there was chocolate.



So thank you, Dear Linda, for the tea and company.

Making our beds

In case you haven't heard, I'm the birdshit-tomato girl.

Last year I read a book on Square Foot Gardening. Great book, good reference information.

I bought containers, mixed my peat and vermiculite and compost, planted my tomatoes and basil. And watered. And fertilized. And waited.

A bird ate a tomato and shit the seed into the ground while flying over our yard. It landed under some ivy and trees and took root.

We got more tomatoes off of the birdshit tomato plant than all of my plants combined. I was irritated and decided I couldn't garden. So I had no plans to plant this year.

Until George decreed that he would take over. Fine. I'll weed and water and turn the compost pile and pluck rocks, but I'm not making any decisions that would inhibit the growth of plants.

We decided to do raised beds. So after clearing out a few (OK, eight) trees, hundreds of pounds of English ivy, brush and brambles, we cleared a spot for our garden.

George tilled



Then we raked and shoveled raised beds



And Stella tried to eat rocks



I screened some compost... which looks phenomenal, if I may say so.



So now we widen the beds a bit, put up the fencing and plant. Tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, beans, zucchini, and maybe some red peppers. And basil and parsley and a few wildflowers and flowering perennials to encourage bees and butterflies.

I'm looking forward to it. As long as the birds don't try to show me up again.

Spicy Eyes

Last Tuesday, Ethan came barreling into the house. "Mommy! George is in the poison ivy!"

I sighed. We've been cleaning out the back yard for a few weeks now, and there is one (ONE!) single poison ivy plant in the back yard now. George pointed it out to the boys last weekend and said "Stay away from this. It will make you itchy."

I told him to tell George to come inside and wash his hands. Who knows if he even touched it? I didn't want to take any chances.

Georgie came into the dining room. "Mommy? My eye hurts."

And this is what it looked like:


(this was taken at the Pediatrician's office with my cell phone camera.)

I felt my heart start to beat a little faster, but I didn't want to freak him out.

"Georgie? Did you get into the poison ivy?" Of course, he denied it. Finally he came clean, and I took him into the bathroom, had him wash his hands and face, then put cool washcloths on his eye. And called the pediatrician. And when they told me to bring him in right away, I called George to tell him what had happened.

Fortunately, Stella was just getting up from her nap and I was able to get her changed and the boys into the bathroom, close up the garage, grab a box of goldfish crackers and a few juice boxes in about 10 minutes. Which is miraculous, since it normally takes an absolute minimum of 1/2 hour to get out of the house. I texted my friend Dawn, and she suggested putting mittens on him to keep him from scratching at his eyes; we had a spare pair in the van, so I had him put them on and hold Boo Boo Bob the Builder on his eye as a cold compress. I kept asking him "How are you doing, George?" on the way, planning to take him straight to the ER if he stopped breathing.

Our normal pediatrician wasn't available, but one of the peds in the practice saw us, and as soon as she saw George's eye she asked, "Are you sure that there wasn't any other sort of injury? Like a stick in the eye?" I asked George and he said, "No, I just touched the poison ivy."

She sent us downstairs to the ophthalmologist, who told us it was the worst case of acute chemosis she'd seen in twenty years. She started him on eye drops, which he took very well. Dr. Thomas said she was surprised by how well he did; she's seen 8-year-olds cry and refuse the drops, but George didn't cry once. He didn't seem to respond to the medication at first, and both doctors thought we might be sending him to the Rainbow ER.

Finally the swelling started to go down. So they sent us home with a prescription for oral steroids, eye drops, eye ointment, an antibiotic, Benadryl and instructions to take him to the ER if he started swelling at all. I stripped him and put him into the tub as soon as we got home, and threw his clothes and tennis shoes into a Sanitary wash cycle.

When George got home, he looked at George's eye (the swelling had gone down considerably) and said, "If I'd seen this, I would have told you to go straight to the ER."

Yeah. Well, fortunately everything worked out, the doctors saw him immediately and we were able to avoid an ER trip. Which would have been terrible, with three little kids.

I made it until just after dinner before I started crying.

Follow up visits the next day were fine; his eye was almost 80% back to normal, and it was obvious the medication worked. On Friday we had several trees taken down in the back yard, and when they ground out the stumps, the poison ivy was eradicated.

Let's hope we don't have to deal with this again any time soon.

Epic wardrobe malfunction

Friday night, George & I bottled the replacement Dead Poet IPA that The Brew Kettle re-brewed for us. (We think we got the wrong beer, they say they overcarbonated... whichever, we didn't get the beer we brewed. Which was suck.)

Regardless, we went on Friday to bottle the new beer, and after washing our bottles we were waiting for them to open up our bottling station. I noticed that my sweater was wet. I figured I'd gotten water on me from the bottle washer, but when I ran my hand over it, it didn't feel like water... it was oily.

Strange.

I looked around and didn't see anything that would have gotten on me, so I went to the bathroom to try and clean it off. Thankfully, it was a dark brown sweater and didn't show too much.

I'm paper-toweling but the oil isn't coming off.

Then it hits me.

Do you remember about ten years ago, when water bras were the rage? They were supposed to look real, not like padded bras that smash inward like the top of a plastic L'eggs pantyhose package when someone hugs you. I'm not ashamed to admit that I bought myself one of these said water bras way back when.

So, if you don't already know, let me be the first to tell you.

Water bras aren't filled with water. They're filled with some sort of mineral oil.

And how do I know?

'Cause mine sprung a leak.

I cleaned up as best as I could, thank God for the dark brown color of my sweater, and debated what to do. Stuff paper towels and tissues in my bra to sop up the oil? Not good; pointy and oily breasts are the stuff of hard core anime. I already had a beer in me, so I decided 'what the hell' and chucked the bra into the garbage can. Fortunately I was wearing a camisole, but it was probably obvious to anyone who cared to look that the girls were going commando.

I called my BFF Dawn to lament, but she wasn't available, so I left a long and rambling message on her voicemail. Which I'm sure she laughed heartily at and replayed on speaker phone to anyone within hearing distance.

Which is fine, 'cause it really was funny.

Really.

Poopy Bathtub

Stella had a major-league blowout diaper this morning when she woke up, so she went straight into the bathtub. She and Ethan were so funny, I grabbed the camera and took some video of them. Hilarity ensues, of course.

A Bird in the Hand

Yesterday George runs in the back door, yelling, "Mommy! Mommy! Come here and see what I got!"

"What is it, George?"

"Just come here and see!"

I go to the back gate, and he's holding a Carolina Wren. I can tell by the little brown eyebrows.

"Look what I caught, Mommy!"

"Oh, Georgie," I say. We've told you not to pick up dead birds. Go put it on the compost pile."

"No, Mommy! It's not dead. It's alive!" The bird gets a wing free and I see it start to flap.

Whoa.

"Um, Georgie, take it back outside please."

The wing is flapping a little more fiercely.

"Georgie, PLEASE open the door and take it outside."

Georgie opens the screen door and the flapping has unnerved him slightly. He drops the bird, it flutters against the glass before making its way to freedom.

I breathe a sigh of relief and turn to him.

"How did you catch that bird?"

His eyes are alight with excitement. "I sneaked up on it at the bird feeder and grabbed it!"

Seriously? My five-and-a-half-year-old ball of continuous energy has the ability to stalk a full-size Carolina wren? And catch it? Something the neighborhood cats could only dream of doing?

I'm laughing. I can't help it.

"Georgie, why did you want to catch the bird?"

"I wanted it to sit on my finger, but it didn't want to."

I nodded.

"Those are wild birds. They don't want to sit on your finger. They don't know you won't hurt them. Did you feel how fast it's heart was beating when you were holding it?"

Wide eyes and big nod.

"It was scared. It didn't understand that you just wanted to play. So next time, we'll just leave the wild birds alone, OK?"

Another nod.

"Hey, Georgie."

"Yeah, Mommy?"

"THAT WAS SO COOL!" I am laughing again, can't help it. "I can't believe you CAUGHT a BIRD!"

Where's the phone to call Daddy?

What a difference a day makes

I love my kids. More than anything, in fact. But sometimes you just need a little break.

We found this great little cabin in Hocking Hills, Ash Ridge Cabins in Laurelville, OH. Three cabins, all set about 500 feet away from one another, which offers great privacy. We stayed in the Lover's Loft cabin, which they happened to have available for one night -- perfect for us.

After checking in and unloading our gear, we headed to The Rock House to check out an awesome rock formation. We also got some great photos of George and me inside.



Then we went to Conkle's Hollow and hiked a 2.5 mile trail around the rim of the gorge; very rugged, difficult terrain, only for the experienced hiker. One misstep and you fall 200+ feet to a certain and painful death.

Unfortunately, I forgot my sport sandals at home, so ended up wearing a cheap pair... and I sustained an injury.



Thoroughly tired out from our hike, we headed back to the cabin to eat dinner and have a few drinks. Then, the lovely hot tub on the back porch was perfect for our sore legs.

We had a relatively decent night's sleep -- some joker decided it would be funny to set the alarm in the upstairs bedroom to go off at 1AM, which was decidedly unfunny. So much for sleeping well.

We were up early this morning, and I spent some time with this.


Tea, knitting, and the birds... I was content for the entire morning.

George was right there with me.



Coffee in hand, he pointed out a pileated woodpecker that was probably 16" in length! Nuthatches, goldfinches and Carolina sparrows were also sighted. We also saw about 10 deer, and an opossum that came to investigate the bird feeder last night.

All in all, it was a nice, relaxing weekend. We spent the entire trip talking about how much the children would love this place, the hiking and the rocks. We'll be bringing them back this summer.

I should be at the grocery store

I really should be at the grocery store right now, but I'm not. If I don't go, there's no bread for lunches, no lettuce for salad, no breadcrumbs for the fish tonight.

The boys were really misbehaving last night; fighting with each other, their sister, refusing to clean their room, etc. I took away privilege after privilege (no playing outside, no videos, no Uno) but nothing was working.

Finally I set the timer and said, "If this room is not clean by the time this goes off, YOU DO NOT GET ANY DINNER."

That's a real, honest threat. In our house, food is currency. These kids eat more than I ever imagined they would at this age; I am not looking forward to their teen years if this is what they consume now. So I thought they would take me seriously.

They didn't.

Five minutes left on the timer, I gave them The Warning. And they continued to play, throw toys, etc.

The timer rang, and all hell broke loose.

But I stood by my words, and they didn't get any dinner last night. Yes, they went to bed hungry. And they were starving when they woke up this morning, which was to be expected.

I hope we don't have to go through that again any time soon.

On top of spaghetti

Stella does her own thing with "On Top of Spaghetti."

On common sense not being so common

Georgie has been playing this weird game. He covers his face with a bandanna (kind of like a Mel Brooks villain), puts on his cowboy hat, and walks around trying not to bang into things.

(Preparing for a career as a low-rent Criss Angel, perhaps?)

This morning, he walked into the steps and banged his shins. Hard. And then cried with pain and surprise.

It took all I had in me not to laugh. Which is terrible, but normal, I guess.

Haircuts and various injuries

Friday I went to have my hair cut, and came home to this.



The kids were playing on our bed, and Stella had a face vs. headboard incident.

You can't really see from the picture (what self-respecting 16-month-old sits still for anything?) but she bit through her lip in two places and has a two-inch bruise across her right cheek. It was a lovely shade of purple yesterday, but now it's lightened to a pukey bile color. Complements her skin color nicely.

There was blood all over George's shirt, the blankets, pillowcases, sheets, floor... I spent the evening stripping the bed and washing all of the bloody laundry.

And then I experienced an epic hard drive fail. EPIC. I had to do a complete system reinstall, which is not a big deal since all of my data is stored on a secondary 250 gig hard drive. The secondary drive was inadvertently partitioned (did I mention I'm a bit of an idiot?) and I lost years of data; archived files of correspondence I’ve typed for George; tax records; some knit patterns; my huge collection of audiobooks; most of my 10+ gig mp3 collection; white papers I wrote in my former job. The worst loss is… most of the digital photos that I took from Oct. ‘07 through last week are gone. Fortunately I had uploaded the best photos to our Photobucket album, but there are some that I'll never get back. (I managed to recover some of them that weren't archived.)

On the bright side, I kept the old 100 gig hard drive will all of my software and files on it, so I was able to pop that one in and retrieve some of my archived data. I won't be making the same mistake again; Norton Ghost is already installed and regular backups engaged.

Amongst this I have been knitting (of course; how could I handle the stress otherwise?) and am working on Stella's pants and another pair from the Yarn Harlot's basic sock recipe. I haven't had a chance to photograph my progress, maybe I'll get my act together this week.

Today is a snow day; all area schools (except for Cleveland Public, naturally) are closed. I plan on making a batch of bread dough, some granola, and building a fire. The storm will hopefully blow itself out by tomorrow. George's class tomorrow is canceled (conferences) so I'm thinking about taking them to the Science Center. We'll see how it goes.

Ice

It's 2 outside with a wind chill of -15. So you know what I braved in order to get this. At 7AM.



This really doesn't do justice. I wish my Mom could photograph it.

In which I try to explain divorce and disappointment

So Georgie asked me the other day about divorce. Totally out of the blue, as he has no experience with the subject (unless you count a random Mister Rogers episode a several months back).

Me: "Do you know what divorce is?"
Him: "It's when the parents don't like each other and stay away."
Me: "Are your parents married or divorced?"
Him: "Married!"

I'm learning that one of the hardest things about being a parent is not obsessing with sheltering your child. I don't want him to be exposed to bad behavior, violence, pain, suffering, disappointment... but is that realistic? What good am I doing him if I shelter him from everything? I think it's more dangerous to overly-protect a child, then toss him out into the world at 18 and say, 'there you go!'

So, as hard as it is to do, we've chosen to allow them to be exposed to things. Kids can be mean, and don't always share. Art classes get canceled,* play dates get changed, Nature Center programs get postponed and the wolves aren't always on exhibit. They have to learn to deal with disappointment, and understand that these things happen.

It doesn't make it any easier on the parent.




*That reminds me; Thanks so much Fairview Park Rec, it's fun to explain to my two little boys that you canceled their art class but didn't tell us until we were in the reception area waiting for the room to be opened up. Mr. Youth Program Coordinator, do you have any idea what it entails to have to bundle up two preschoolers and a toddler and have them at the rec by 9AM? (Probably not, since it's probably been years since you've had little kids, and even then your wife likely took care of everything ) Do you have any idea how irritating it is when you cancel a class without the courtesy of a phone call informing the parents? Do you have any idea how angry I am that this is the second time this has happened? The first time, the instructor called me, and I never heard from the Rec until I had to call to have my money refunded?

That $300 a year increase in my taxes was just so worth it. /sarcastic diatribe

Elf Yourself 2008

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

I am a superior housewife

Thanks, Vis Major, I am superior!

86 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Superior Take the test!

My favorite question:

Reacts with pleasure and delight to marital congress.

Boule!

My first batch of boule bread, from a recent recipe in Mother Earth News, turned out great. Like, so good that I will actually make this bread several times a week for sandwiches and soup.

The Story of Pear Butter

Once upon a time, there was a man who decided to pick the pears off of his tree.


He picked more pears that his family could possibly eat.

(like, twice as much as you see in this picture.)

So, his wife, knowing how much her husband and children like pear butter, decided to put some up.



(This is the first of three batches of peeled, seeded and cored pears that went into the 5.5 quart crock pot.)


And after cooking down, blending, spicing, cooking down again, and processing in a hot water bath, this is what we have.


And the final tally
(Three jars are missing; one is almost gone already, and two are in the freezer.)


Did I mention, I do not like pear butter?

First Day of Preschool

We decided to sign George up for a "Kindergarten Readiness" class at a local preschool. It's one afternoon a week, for 2 hours, which is perfect; gets him used to separation, allows him to socialize with a small group of children, and gives me a nice block of one-on-one time with Ethan.

Today was his first day, and he did great.



On the way home tonight, Daddy saw some firewood on the side of the road, so he took the truck to go and pick it up. The boys went out to help, which of course meant that a 20-minute job took almost an hour. But, I think they all had fun.

Dentist!

The boys had their fist dentist visit today. No cavities, clean teeth, everything is great. Yay!

Their favorite part? They have gloves and masks to play dentist at home.

Baby Surprise Jacket

So I finished my Baby Surprise Jacket, which looked really, really odd when knitting. I made a few mistakes, which are visible on the front (of course) so I was thinking about ripping back to the neckline and adding some more striping. Then Stella decided to pull the buttons off, so I've decided I'm definitely ripping back, getting rid of the buttons and doing a little i-cord buttonhole for one button at the neck. Much safer. George says he doesn't like the one-button look, so he wants me to keep at least three. We'll see what works.

Ethan's First Visit to the Eagle's Nest

Ethan got to go into the Eagle's Nest now that he's three. He had a great time.

50% off beats all

Several months ago I was complaining about the cost of yarn swifts and ball winders. One of my Ravelry friends suggested that I wait for the 40% off coupon from Joann.com, then order the swift. Wait until I get another 40% off coupon and order the winder. (You can only get 40% off of one item.)

George called me last week to tell me he found a Joann coupon, and did I want him to bring it home. Good man.

I ended up finding a 50% off coupon code online, so I got both swift and winder, with tax and shipping, for $95. So guess what I did yesterday? Pictures to follow.

Is Summer Really Gone?

So much has happened since my last post in May. My father-in-law passed away; my sister had her first baby, as did my neighbor; I brewed beer for the first time, my container garden mostly died. Birthdays, anniversaries, you name it.

So I will not lament that which I did not document. I will share from here on out.

George took the day off today and we took the boys fishing.


Ethan caught the biggest fish, but George made up for it in volume.



Other fun things we did this summer...



went to the beach


visited the Memphis Kiddie Park with Aunt Mary


checked out the fire station


went to Stan Hywet Hall
(this picture is the exact spot where George proposed to me eight years ago that very day. How far we've come.)


visited Brandywine Falls (two photos, eight years apart to the day.)

I've also finished some of my knitting projects, which makes me very happy.

As sweater weather looms around the corner, I hope to have more time to blog. It's just been so beautiful, we've been outside as much as possible.

Georgie's First Two-Wheeler

I took off the training wheels yesterday, explained the mechanics of balance, and he took off riding... and hasn't fallen yet! Just a few 'unscheduled stops' but no actual falls.

I am so proud of him!