Monday, January 30, 2012

Schedule

I was much more precise with my other babies.  We had nap times and snack times and play times and work times pretty much figured out.  Not this time.  In the past two months we've finally worked out a routine that works for us...pretty much.

The routine includes nagging at the back of my mind every Monday -Wednesday about whether I have babysitters lined up for the children not involved in the various lessons we go to.  It also includes daily (or nearly so) walks/bike rides. Weekly-ish grocery shopping with only half the kids along. Quiet time that partially lines up with nap time and reading time which means if I'm lucky 15-20 minutes of by myself time. There is time to shower but not generally time to bother with my hair or make-up. It includes laundry time, but usually not enough to get everything folded as soon as I'd like, and time when I wonder about what I'm going to make for dinner. Finally it includes time at the end of each day when I sit and think about all the things I'd like to do that don't quite fit into the routine we've finally mustered.

I have got to find a way to make things.  A way that does not include the sacrifice of sleep.  Without the outlet of creation I'm getting washed down like an old bar of soap.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Eight months

The past month brought four or five new teeth, (He's got the top center four and three on bottom) and all kinds of new tricks. It always seems that he catches on to something new the very week before I'm due to write this post. Guess what it was this time?







And then there was also...

He's been working on crawling since early December, once he got that down it was only a day or two before he'd moved on. He found the next skill much simpler to master.

He's reveled in pulling books off the bottom shelf ever since he managed to maneuver himself to lay beside it. Imagine the joy he felt in discovering yet another shelf full waiting for him in his new upright exploration.

Tell me: what am I going to do with this boy who refuses to stay as tiny as I want him?

Things will always go your way

If you can manage to turn your math homework into an art project.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Casserole

When I was growing up if I went into the kitchen and asked my mother what was for dinner, 90% of the time the answer was the same.

Casserole.

On good days I would groan and slunk out of the kitchen.  On bad days I would groan, stay in the kitchen and  complain about it.
Casserole meant that whatever contents of the kitchen could be rounded up would be tossed in the frying pan and cooked up en suite. This post is like that.  Whatever I can round up in my head will be tossed in.  Sometimes my mama's casseroles turned out really good, sometimes they were awful, most of the time they just were.  Not too good, not too bad just...food. (we ate really good food too, it's just that the really good dishes all had actual names) I imagine that's how this post will turn out. 

Duke got a wool diaper cover for Christmas.  Thrilling gift, no?  I've been reading about the wonders of wool since I started investigating cloth long ago while expecting Enzo. Diaper covers made simply of yarn? No plastic? And somehow your babe does not wake up lying in a pee puddle? Not to mention the claims that the wool was soft rather than scratchy. It was magic I wanted desperately to believe in.  I begrudged myself my lack of faith in the matter.  

I finally got around to using the wool cover today.  Guess what.  The magic is real!  He wore it all morning with no dampness seeping through.  When I changed him out if it I found myself contemplating wool covers of all kinds.  

Tomorrow it's my turn to teach pre-school again. This week, the letter O.  This letter is much more fun than the other letters I've been dealt.  I think I'll bring the blender to the table and let them help make orange julius for snack time one day.

I'm going to be re-painting my table soon.  I'd planned to do it this week but I just now realized the flaw in that plan.  I'll need the table for pre-school. What happened is, the table top that I spent so much time sanding, went all to hell once I got it in the house. 

The Polycrylic recommended by the man in the paint department is what did it.  That stuff grabs messes and holds tight with both hands.  If you write on a piece of paper, turn it over and write on the back the graphite from the front side will transfer to the table top.  Removing the resulting marks will take buckets of elbow grease and leave a dull smudge on the table's finish.  Imagine the trouble caused by substances more stubborn than pencil.  Substances that at times wind up being applied to the table top directly rather than transferred from the backs of papers.  

It wasn't long after I finished the project that I accepted the reality that I'd need to re-do the most time consuming portion of it. Meanwhile, as I've been working up to the task I decided to change the colors in the house so now, instead of just the table top I'll be painting it in it's entirety.

Zizza is sitting by me.  She ran out of things to do elsewhere.  She insists that she can sit beside me quietly without disturbing.  She cannot.  She tries, but she just has to talk to me.  She has to.  Right now she's crying at me about a preschool project she wishes she'd been able to participate in seven weeks ago.  Even when she has a book to read she can't manage to sit here quietly as I type.  More than once I've come out from under a paragraph to realize she's been reading a passage aloud and now wants a response from me on the hilarity of it's content. 

You'll have to excuse the lack of conclusion to this casserole, as my child is now pouncing and whispering the word "Pecaw" repeatedly.  This inhibits my ability to form sentences.      

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Thanks, Ziz for the blog post

Zizza is learning about birds this quarter.  Today she brought home an essay she wrote on the topic.  Here it is for you to enjoy.

Tiny Bird
 By Zizza Earl

I am a tiny peger (peregrine) falcen in a warm soft egg.  I love my egg it's cozy inside. 

Hay, I hatched now I'm a cute littel fluff ball. I have fetheres but I can't fly yet. I don't have the right cinned of fethers. I can flap my wings but I won't go any where.

My mom just flew away to get food I love pigens I hope she cachis one! She cot one time for dinner! Mmm this pigen is yummy.

Time for bed I tuk my head under my wing nighty night. It's morning mom cot another pigen mmmm this one is good to.

ot-ow the wind blew aur nest. Owell time to rea bild.  Bey


I added a few periods and capitals but everything else is as she wrote it.  They've been working on contractions  this week. I didn't add a single apostrophe.  I'm high fiving her in my head right now. 

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Anything that's not about elephants is irelephant

My last few posts have been such a pity party. "My baby's sick," "I'm sick," "I cut my finger," Boo-Hoo already, geez Eva. So today instead of posting about how Moo was sick last night, (four separate barfings within the hour of one o'clock) I'm going to show you a project I did. 

Did you even remember I can sew?

 Yeah, me niether.

 I'm a big fan of Jodie's I have a whole stack of her patterns. I finally got around to making one. I like it so much I went head and made it in quadruplicate.

When Parsley and Beet the two elephants who are not quite big and not quite small first made their way onto my computer screen we were all (me Ziz and Enz) head over heels for them. In so much that those two still remember and occasionally ask me for "The elephant story on my computer," It went without saying that I bought the pattern as soon as it was available for purchase. I just didn't get around to making it for a few years, but I was determined to have an elephant per child this Christmas


I was lucky enough to find nice wool flannel that was already grey, thus saving me the trouble of dyeing it. I ordered it in more than plenty of time and when it was delivered I found it much greyer than my computer screen had portrayed it to be. So much for saving time dyeing fabric. I had to put it through a number of bleachings to get it light enough to suit. They're still decidedly on the dark side (Not in a may the force be with you kind of a way. My elephants are in no way affiliated with the Sith) but they'll do.

 One day, as Christmas drew near, one of our favorite babysitters offered her services free of charge (See why we like her?) I took that opportunity to get stitching on these guys. I'd had them cut and ready for weeks but I hadn't found time to sew them without being observed. That day I did all the machine sewing on all four of the elephants in 1.5 hours. Not to shabby.

 I planned to finish up the stuffing and hand work in the car on out way to Utah. That would have worked just fine if I hadn't run out of stuffing mid journey. Once out of the car my time to sit and stuff diminished drastically.

 On Christmas Day while the kids were napping (yep, I totally enforced quiet time on Christmas) I was trying my best to get these little guys finished up. Before I knew it the kids were up and there beside me. With the surprise factor out of the way I lost my drive to get the elephants done and put them away.

 Three days ago when I finally pulled them out and completed the remaining minutes of work (four sets of button jointed arms and legs) I lamented that they'd already been spotted. They would have made fantastic valentines for those kids of mine.

 Anyway, I made them and they are loved. Most notably by the eldest and youngest though the middles are fans as well.

 Duke took his elephant in his hands gave it a shake, tasted a foot and thoroughly approved. He also enjoys manipulating the ears and grasping the trunk. Unfortunately for him, button joints mean close supervision so he doesn't get as much pachyderm play as he would if it could live in his bed.

 Ziz carried her elephant with her, held it in her lap while reading and generally adored it all day. In the days to follow she worked on finding a suitable name. While gazing at the movies on the shelf she toyed with "Charlotte," or maybe "Enchanted" my comment on the latter was that an elephant named "Enchanted" could easily come to be known as "Ella Enchanted" (she got that book for Christmas) Now it wasn't safe to call her elephant anything. She was rotating through names at such a rate you'd be sure to use the wrong one. How many times did I say "Ella" when her name was "Charlotte" or "Enchanted" when her name was "Ella" and Etc? Yesterday she finally settled on a name for better or for worse. The Elephant's name is "Giselle" but her nick name is "Charlotte" so that's what you should call her.


Zizza's elephant being the most played with was also the first to break. Do you spy the buttonless hip joint in the photo above? See, I got to the jointing part and realized I didn't have any suitable string for the job, so I just used black embroidery floss. The result is; I'm going to have to re-do all the joints as soon as I get some good string. Also, I didn't have a good shade of floss to use for "character lines" on the trunks of my little friends so I'll have to sneak them away one by one and add those lest these playthings be accused of undergoing botox treatments.

 I'm going to let each kid chose fabric for his or her elephant's wardrobe and dress the herd in the coming weeks.

 I like toys.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

My house smells awesome

I made cinnamon rolls today.  I used P-Dub's recipe except I prefer brown sugar and cream cheese frosting to the white sugar and maple glaze she uses so I did that instead.  They are lots of kinds of good.  I have to tell you, that dough smells divine.  The rolling process was especially enjoyable because the warm sweet yeasty aroma wafted so pleasantly.

Less pleasant was the part near the end when my finger got in the way of my super sharp slicing knife after which, I had to spend thirty minutes with my hand elevated to stop the bleeding thus making me late for the remainder of the day.

Zizza thought I must be overreacting. "How did you cut yourself with a butter knife?  A butter knife is just a regular knife.  They're not even sharp.  I don't know how you could cut yourself with a butter knife,"

She said all of this while I was at the sink washing sugar and blood out of my finger and groan-screaming.  You know, a long sustained "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh," but not real loud and sort of guttural.  After a minute as my vocal reaction subsided her monologue started to wear on me and I managed to growl out "It's not a butter knife, I use it to spread butter but it's not a butter knife and it is very sharp." Then I betook myself to the bathroom  where I attempted to staunch the bleeding long enough to get a bandaid on.  It took a while.

The good news is; only two puny end of the roll-rolls were involved in the accident.  The rest were safely nestled in pans far out of contamination's way.