Success!

2020 would be a very easy year to write off just about any goal that one did not achieve. Any excuse under the sun could be found to push the goal aside and very little guilt would be felt in doing so. However, I am happy to report that I successfully fulfilled my 2020 reading goal.

 

One could say that getting some reading in during 2020 was easy enough. After all, didn’t we all spend some kind of time in some form of quarantine? But quarantine with two kids and a husband home from work does not allow for any extra reading time. If anything, it gave me less. And while I was able to spend time reading when Ellyson was first born, my plates seem much more full now. In fact, I didn’t get as much read as I usually do. But I did achieve my goals!

 

For while the closure of the library for a few months was a terrible loss (and thoroughly ridiculous), the fact that I couldn’t get any books from other sources allowed me to achieve goal #2: read books from my own shelves. I read at least three dozen off my own shelves, something I probably would not have accomplished if the library had been open.

 

Goal #1 was to read at least one biography or non-fiction book from my list a month. To be honest, I’m not sure if I read one a month, but all told I read seventeen. So, I can clap myself on the back as an over-achiever. I do like surpassing my goals!

And goal #3 was to read Charles Spurgeon’s The Treasury of David, volume 2.A worthy accomplishment and certainly the best thing I read all year, even if at times some of the expositions were a bit profound for me. But they were also very timely, especially the writings on Psalms 102 and 103. Very often I wondered: if Charles Spurgeon had lived in 2020, what would his response have been? Certainly no one can say for certain, but I think it would have been very different than ours.

The Anticipation is Killing Me

The above phrase took on new meaning this year as we approached Christmas. But it wasn’t my anticipation: it was my kids’!

 

The anticipation of the arrival of Christmas is by far more thrilling the actual day thereof. Emry and Ethan were so excited as their chain to count down the days got shorter, the pile of gifts under the tree got bigger, and the sure arrival of Christmas day became more apparent. When the actual day arrived, it was rather anti-climatic – new toys aside, of course.

 

I was glad to see it’s arrival. The pent up energy vibrating through the house was beginning to drive me insane. I had more things to get done than I had time to do and the two of them bouncing off my walls only added to my list. I was so glad Ellyson had no clue what was going on! She can be enough of a handful without additional energy.

 

But the day did arrive. We celebrated Christmas Eve at my parents, enjoyed Christmas morning at home with hardly any space to walk upon, and spent the rest of the day again at my parents with a cousin, aunts and uncle (who brought home a new dog). The anticipation now gone, Christmas became enjoyable!

 

The following day as I was helping Ethan in his room, he looked at me sadly and said, “Mama, that’s the end of Christmas. There is no more Christmas.”

 

“Ethan,” I replied, “Christmas comes every year. Just like your birthday.”

 

“It does?!?”

 

I admit I hesitated. After all, if this was the only Christmas ever I wouldn’t have to live through the killing anticipation again…and again…and again… But, I can’t lie…and he’d figure it out next year anyway.

 

“Yes, Ethan, we’ll have Christmas again next year.”

 

“Yea!” 

 

And so the anticipation starts all over again…

 

                                                                    Our favorite 2020 gift: Ellyson.

 

Emry and Grandma playing a new game.

 

Emry, Beto, and Ethan helping Uncle KK with the cookie tray.

 

I’m not sure what the hand signs mean…some guy thing?

 

Our new little handyman.

 

Emry: one dance performance down, three more to go!

Christmas Pictures

These days it is hard to get my kids to sit still. Emry and Ethan are over-the-moon excited about the coming of Christmas. It’s one of those seasons where the anticipation is nearly as good as the day itself. From lights to counting down the days to Christmas books from the library…hardly a moment goes by when Christmas is not the topic of conversation. To be honest, it’s rather exhausting.

 

However, we did manage to capture a few candid moments over the past week. The snow certainly helped. And since it was Ellyson’s first snow, she also had to go out for a little while!

 

This Sunday we got dressed to the nines in new Christmas dresses. It turned out to be rather timely that I had just bought Ethan new dress socks so even he was quite excited with new apparel. (Ah, to be three and get excited about socks!) The girls have matching dresses made by Grandma. Emry, a lover of snow (and all things Frozen) picked out the fabric. And since it’s not expressly Christmasy, they can wear the dresses all winter long!

 

In front of the tree.

 

Group hug!

What Kids Think Of!

It’s been at least two years since Emry and Ethan were in the finished part of our duplex in Rochester happily playing. It was one of those days when it got a little too quiet down those stairs…one of those moments when you hate to disturb their playing but also know you should check on them. So I made my way quietly down the steps and found baby powder…EVERYWHERE!!!!!

 

Somehow Emry had managed to reach the baby powder in the top drawer of Ethan’s changing table. And somehow she had figured out how to turn the top so it opened. From that point, it was quite easy to figure out how powder got over every surface of that room – and the two of them. What a cleaning job that was!

 

Well, yesterday I had a morning webinar for work. Thankfully most webinars I have felt inclined to sit in on have been in the afternoon, but this one started at ten in the morning. It worked out, though, that it was grocery shopping day. Emry went with Grandma to do her shopping and I provided Ed with a  thorough list so he could take Ethan to the store and leave me in the relative silence of only Ellyson. And since it was a webinar I only needed to listen to and not necessarily take notes (although I had a pen and pad ready should they be needed), I was able to login on my phone and have it nearby as I fed Ellyson her morning yogurt, gave her some toys to play with, and even folded the laundry. A little over an hour into this two-and-a-half hour webinar, Ed and Ethan arrived home from the first store. Ethan didn’t care to go out again, but that was okay. I figured I could manage for another hour, so Ed went by himself. I put Ellyson in her crib and Ethan joined her to play. Between the webinar and starting preparations for lunch, I hardly realized that it was rather quiet in the bedroom. So, I peaked inside and found this:

 

Yes, you are seeing that correctly. Ellyson is tattooed all over with blue and red marker – courtesy of her older brother who apparently has aspirations of being a tattoo artist. And while I don’t claim to be a very wise mother, I do purchase only washable markers. So, while Ellyson may be scarred for life, at least she won’t be tattooed.

Happy 29^thBirthday, Jenny!

 

Jenny - 4 years old

Three Kids at Six Months: A Snapshot

After I showed Ed the pictures I had taken of Ellyson at six-months old, he remarked how he would love to see the pictures of Emry and Ethan at six-months old. It’s funny how when I was going through those stages with them I thought I would never forgot the things they did and how they grew…and yet I have. And seeing those pictures – wow! 

 

I also looked back at the blog posts from when they were each six-months. Emry was our tiny one, barely wearing 3-month size clothes and weighed somewhere around ten pounds. Rolling over had just become a mode of transportation, but she wasn’t sitting up by herself. Ethan was nearly sitting up by himself, rolling everywhere, and already up on his hands and knees. (From there, he would launch himself forward and then start all over again, like an inch worm.) He had over a pound on Emry. But Ellyson? While she does roll from her tummy to her back, her way of getting to something she wants is to somehow wiggle her way over to it. Since she weighed the same as Ethan at six-months two months ago, I’m guessing she’s got at least two pounds on him now and probably an inch, if not two for she is quite long. But you can see for yourself:

 

Emry: she wins the hair contest hands down!

 Ethan: he just looks like a little old man.

 

And Ellyson: as the youngest, being the bigger one might prove quite beneficial…

Six Months!!!

Today, on Pearl Harbor Day, little Ellyson is six months old. And let’s just say that after a really rough week with her (sniffles, teething, a bit croupy), I am really glad she is smiling in these pictures! Because she has done so much crying this past week, her poor little throat is sounding a little hoarse…

 

Despite her bout with something, she is generally pretty happy. She is much more content now to be left on the floor on a blanket with a few toys nearby. She frequently rolls from her tummy to her back, but not vice versa. And while she wants to sit up, she can’t do it by herself yet. And she has been trying new foods: baby cereal, bananas (not a favorite), applesauce, sweet potatoes, and peaches. Animal crackers get good and soggy. Cheerios are a bit elusive.

 

And if there is one thing I can say about Ellyson: she regimental in her schedule. She eats every four hours. Unfortunately, she still thinks that includes the middle of the night. And while I am working to break her of this, something keeps arising to interrupt any progress we are making in this department. But a good schedule is wonderful for planning out our days!

 

Yea, six months!

 

With Sock Monkey!

 

And the first time in the little rocking chair.

Our Christmas Tree

Today we got our Christmas tree. We decided to go to Dogs ‘n Suds. From sometime in March until the end of October, it is a drive-in eating joint. And, boy, is it popular. So popular that on opening day, it has a police presence to direct traffic. And whoever owns it makes enough in those seven or eight months that they don’t need to be opened year-round (even in a “pandemic”). In November and December, it is a tree lot. Actually, a farm located in another town rents the spot to sell trees. And Ed is now totally sold on it. Because they shake the tree out, trim loose branches, net it, and even tie it on top of the car for you. What service!

 

It didn’t take us long to find a tree. Emry and Ethan aren’t picky enough yet to have to find the “perfect” tree. And Ellyson was just happy to be outdoors. Knowing what size we wanted, we found one in about five minutes – faster than it takes us all to get out of the car! And it’s a really nice tree. A gentle smell and doesn’t “shed” at all. 

 

 

Picking out our tree!

 

Next came the decorating. I think the kids thought Ed would never get the lights on. (I remember that feeling as a kid…) Then I had to sort out all the ornaments. Not that the ornaments aren’t in perfect order (after all, I put everything in order), but they are a little mixed up between two containers because of how they fit. The kids are so psyched, I probably say, “Be careful!” more than necessary, but quite a few of the ornaments are breakable. And yet somehow those didn’t get dropped by Ethan, although quite a few others did.

 Showing Ellyson how to decorate her first Christmas tree.

 

Even before it’s all over, I am beyond exhausted. Decorating is not something I particularly enjoy and doing it while I trip over two bouncing children is quite tiring both physically and mentally. But the tree is up, it looks quite nice, and now all we have to endure is the llloooonnnggg wait until Christmas day.

Behind

I can’t remember the last time I went more than a week without posting on my blog, even if I often back-date because I’m running a bit behind getting things uploaded. But November ended in a whirlwind. It started with the sudden passing of Ed’s dad. It ended with Ed’s sister-in-law calling me names I have never been called in my entire life.

 

Ed received a phone call from his brother just after noon on November 17. Ellyson was sleeping, the other two were outside playing in the abnormally warm weather, and I was getting an early start on work after two 20-hour weeks I was hoping I wouldn’t have to replicate for week three. Their father had had a heart attack, fallen, broken his neck, and was in the hospital. The next couple of hours were rather confusing. David (Ed’s brother) was actually in Mississippi on Army Reserves training. His wife, Sara, was the one at the hospital (as well as his dad’s older brother Bernie), so it felt like messages and phone calls were going all sorts of ways. When Ed got through to the doctor, he confirmed what had happened and said the pulse was weak and he was turning off the machines. Larry Camus passed away that afternoon.

 

Piecing together things later, Mr. Camus had left his brother’s house (he had just moved back there after having to leave his apartment a few weeks ago) to walk to his church. He was a devout Catholic and was at church more often than not. At the age of 80, he wasn’t in great health and walked nearly folded in half. But being independent, he didn’t like to ask Bernie for a ride. So, he started walking as he often did. He had a heart attack and as his body showed no signs that he tried to catch himself when he fell (and so broke his neck), the doctor said it was likely he was unconscious upon impact. Someone saw it happen, stopped, called 911, and tried to help. Whoever that person was, thank you.

 

So, the next day was a whirlwind. Ed wanted to get out first thing in the morning, but I warned him that I could not get myself and three small kids packed “first thing”. Not to mention I needed to run to the store because it was grocery shopping week and we had virtually no food for a trip. It was all very stressful and we didn’t get out the door until almost one. Despite everything, we made it to David’s house in Pittsburgh at about 8:30. And while I was glad we didn’t need to maneuver a hotel, I was hesitant. We hadn’t seen them since before Ethan was born. Sara can be…well, “prickly” would prove to be a minor adjective. They have four of their own kids. And this wasn’t a happy occasion to have a sudden family gathering. Ed assured me everything would be fine. I just decided to keep my kids as happy as can be and fly as low as possible until we left Sunday morning.

 

Although Thursday wasn’t bad, times like these are akin to a bottle that is slowly getting shaken until the build-up explodes. Not a lot happened that day and even Sara was pretty friendly, in her element as she and my mother-in-law tried to out-do each other with stories of how mistreated they had been and still were. Friday was the visitation. Ed and I did take the kids and I stayed with the kids for about an hour before we went back to David’s. That evening was also generally fine. Ed, David and Sara didn’t get back to the house until late and we all got the kids to bed. But Saturday…

 

The funeral was that morning and Ed and I had already decided I would stay at David’s with the kids who wouldn’t survive a full-blown Catholic funeral mass (not to mention myself). I also kept David’s three youngest Macey (10), Zoey, and Declan (just turned 3). Caley (his eldest at 15) went with David, Sara, and Ed. It would be a long day for all, but it started okay.

 

By 4 that afternoon, I had not heard from Ed and was exhausted with the televisions (yes, plural) being on all day even though I attempted to turn one of them off quite often, Ellyson sleeping in fits-and-starts, Declan saying “shut up, idiot” every time I spoke to him, and generally making myself as useful as possible by cleaning, washing dishes, and making sure everyone was fed and happy. I also packed everything so we could leave first thing in the morning as I was sure our welcome was wearing thin. I finally called Ed after four just to see where things stood and if I was supposed to find something for dinner. Within the next two-and-a-half ubered me not only pizza and milkshakes, but my mother-in-law. I called Ed. I had no intention of pushing the domino I apparently knocked over that started the effect. I simply wanted to inform Ed that sending over his mother was not remotely helpful (he had no clue what I was talking about as Sara had done that), and I needed him to start making his way back with a salad in tow. When he told David and Sara, the thin ice broke. Before I knew it, Sara stormed into the house trailed by David and Caley (who slipped upstairs and hid). 

 

She didn’t have the courage to yell at my face, but it didn’t take me two seconds to know I was the subject of her screams and swearing at David in the kitchen. I called Ed, told him we were leaving the moment he returned, and began gathering our things and my kids. This took some time as I was trying to be calm (even though I was physically shaking) as I directed my children, Ellyson needed to be fed, and Ed needed to finish packing change when he got back. It was the most awful half hour of my life as I shook, cried, and feared that she would hurt me or my kids. Emry picked up on it. Ethan had a three-year-old moment so I had to cross Sara’s path as I hauled him out the car. She followed, but David stopped her in the doorway so I wrangled Ethan in, told Emry to buckle up while warding off her questions, and ran back to get Ellyson. Ed had her, but I grabbed her and ran to the car, shutting myself in so I could shake and cry. After being able to get a few minutes to say good-bye to his brother, Ed joined us and off we went. And believe me, if I ever see Pittsburgh again, it will be too soon.

In a nutshell, that is why you have not heard from me in over a week. Driving through the night, we made record time getting home. And if anything good came out of it, the drive with sleeping kids gave Ed and I some time to talk. I hated that things had ended as they had, especially since Ed needed what time he could to say good-bye to his dad and be with his brother. Sadly, though, this was not the only family funeral when Sara caused a scene like that and Ed had been in the midst of those, too. So, while he shrugged it off as par for the course, it has left me feeling very sad in the midst of my fear and anger. And very grateful for my Savior who gives us hope above all the awfulness of this world.  

Five Minutes of Thanksgiving

Again this year I will sit for five minutes and see how many things I can be grateful for!

 

Five minutes to actually sit down! My Savior. How God is UNCHANGING. My husband. My kids – Emry, Ethan and Ellyson. My parents, sisters, brothers, and nephews. Food, clothing, a house to live in. Jobs – for Ed and myself. Friends – the Sniders, Peyckes, Cammie, Amber, Anna, Andrea. Allyson!!!!! An education. Snow, but also warm days so the kids can be out. Sleep – even the little I get. A free country, despite everything. Coffee. Colors. Rainbows. Books!!!! And more books!!!! The library. Exercise. Lattes. Communication, especially in person. Learning new things. Our church family. Music. The ability to read. The gifts of hearing, sight, smelling, touch, speaking and tasting. Good health. Memories. Laughter. The Bible in my own language, not to mention multiple copies of it. Mountains. Wisdom. Flowers, trees, green grass – all of God’s beautiful creation!

Gingerbread Houses

Like so many artistic things, gingerbread houses are one of those things I can imagine making unique and beautiful. But even if I could see the details of how to make that happen (which I can’t), I would loose interest in trying to make it happen probably after half the roof was finished. The reality is art bores me.

 

Growing up, gingerbread houses were something special we made when Grandpa and Grandma Sturm either visited us for Christmas or we visited them. As that didn’t happen often, I can probably count the number of gingerbread houses I have built on one hand. I seem to recall my siblings and I creating one a Christmas my grandparents were not there. And I know Katey led a gingerbread creation time one Christmas when we lived in New Hampshire which I didn’t contribute to. 

 

However, I certainly don’t want my kids growing up having never created a gingerbread house. And what better way to do it than with friends? Of course, I needed to start small and be very practical about the whole thing. So, we only did small ones…made from graham crackers…and I can’t say the candy selection was huge. But since the kids were only ages two to five and not one of them had ever made a gingerbread house, well, it went over splendidly.

 

First off, my worse fears did not come to fruition. I only broke four or five graham crackers trying to cut them (and only on the last house), and the icing work liked glue (a miracle if ever there was one). I did build all the houses in advance. That was not something I desired to do with five small children, let alone have to deal with the impatience of letting them dry before they could be decorated. So, all the kids had to do was spread the frosting about and pick their candy (most of which I raided from the Emry’s and Ethan’s Halloween hoards). And – yea! Great fun was had by all!

 

Emry and her friend Autumn decorating their houses.

 

Alexis and Jacob decorating their houses while Ethan reaches for yet more candy!

My Little Helper

I have had several other moms remark around the time Ellyson was born and since that Emry must be a good little helper. It’s a bit like déjà vu. I used to hear other women tell my mom that quite a bit about me. Perhaps sometimes it was true, but I know I didn’t help my mom half as much as I should have.

 

And sometimes Emry is a good little helper. But at the age of five, there isn’t a whole lot she can help with. She can’t carry Ellyson yet, or change her diaper, or get her dressed. She is good about keeping an eye on her for a few minutes if I ask. And she fetches things, or tries to play with Ellyson. In fact, if Ellyson is in the pack-and-play in Emry’s room when Emry awakes in the morning, Emry climbs in with her and you can hear the two of them giggling. Just like sisters!

 

But today I got my first glance of what a help Emry can be as Ellyson gets older. I introduced baby cereal to Elly this week as she seems to be hungry sometimes between feedings. Unlike my other two, Ellyson knew exactly what to do with cereal when I spooned it into her mouth. The first time I fed her, Emry asked if she could feed Elly…and so did Ethan. I let them both try it once, knowing Emry could get good at it while Ethan will never be trusted with that chore. So, when Emry asked today if she could feed Ellyson, I let her try. And she did so well, I just let her to do it while I busied myself with other things. And I must say, it was wonderful to have her help! 

 

Now if only she could feed everyone else, too…

 

Emry feeding Ellyson.

Squirrels

I’m not sure there is any yard in the whole United States of America that is free of squirrels. Or park, or school yard, or any patch of green space from “Sea to Shining Sea”. Thinking about that makes me realize how many squirrels there must be in this world…probably more than can be numbered!

 

Like most kids (and dogs), my kids think squirrels are pretty neat. They’re fun to watch, and feed, and chase. This past spring we had a whole squirrel family living in our neighbor’s tree. It would appear they still live there, although it’s hard to tell which is the baby now. But then I don’t know much about a squirrel’s life-cycle. Maybe the current squirrels are different ones. Because I certainly can’t tell them apart.

 

This time of year, squirrels are especially busy. This afternoon we were outside and three of them were dashing madly about doing whatever it is squirrels do. Two of them got into a little fight – nipping, and squeaking, and chasing each other up the tree.

 

“Oh, look,” I told Emry and Ethan. “There is Emry Squirrel and Ethan Squirrel fighting with each other.”

 

Emry and Ethan looked up at the squirrels and laughed, thinking it hilarious to be compared to squirrels. Just then another squirrel darted up the tree after them.

 

“And that,” Ethan said, “is Mama Squirrel, telling them to stop fighting!”

5 Months!!!

“What new thing will Ellyson learn today, Mama? Now that she’s five months?” Emry asked me this morning. For Emry, Ellyson can’t learn fast enough. Why she isn’t sitting up, or crawling, or even walking yet is beyond Emry. She wants her sister up and playing with her. In another five months when Ellyson is crawling about (probably), Emry will be singing a different tune!

 

But even though she isn’t sky-diving yet, Ellyson is growing and learning. No teeth yet, but the process is bothering her. Pulling her ears, chewing everything she gets her hands on…the teeth are getting ready! Her hand-eye coordination improves weekly. She has discovered her feet and today pulled them into her mouth, which simply equals wet socks!

 

Although she doesn’t appear to have grown by leaps and bounds this past month, she continues to be my chubby little “sweetheart” (as Ethan calls her). She loves to laugh at her brother and sister and is happiest if they are around. And while Ed continues to say she is the most challenging of our three, I wonder if she seems that way because 1) we’ve forgotten the challenges we did have with Emry or Ethan (mostly Ethan – Emry was a breeze), and 2) I have two other children to keep up with…and one of them is a three-year-old boy! Still, I know the challenges (and lack of sleep still!) are worthwhile, especially when she shares her big smile.

So happy to be 5 months!!!

And with Sock Monkey!

Homeschooling Benefits

The benefits of being a homeschool family have never been clearer. When the whole world was turned upside down last spring and kids sent home to parents who suddenly had to be parents (oh, the horror!), nothing changed in our home. We had school every morning as usual and finished Kindergarten triumphantly. No falling behind. No worries about being scarred for life. And I didn’t have to write a blog post about on 1) how amazing stay-at-home moms actually are, 2) how overwhelming educating ones own children is – I give up!, or 3) how stupid educating ones own children is – sorry, teacher, you’re great but we quit. (And, yes, I did read articles under all three categories.)

With the new school year picking up a couple of months ago, nor did we have to wait with bated breath to figure out what the school district was going to do (and then wait again when they thought they figured it out…and again when they thought they figured it out again…and again…and again…) Nor do we have to worry about any stupid mask mandate. Nor cleaning every available surface every five seconds. Or quadrants on the playground. Or lunches at a desk. Or “contact tracing” which sounds like some fancy kind of new paper in art class. Emry’s not behind, not getting low grades, and not worried about failing Harvard’s entrance exam because of it. We just picked up where we left off. No worries.

But this morning I was reminded of yet another homeschooling benefit: Emry doesn’t have to choose to jump off the cliff just because everyone else does. You know how it goes. Half the kids have lost a tooth – why haven’t I? Maybe if I eat an apple every day one will come out. Or the other half of the kids wear Reeboks (oh, wait, that’s rather 80ish…Nikes?), why don’t have a I pair which I will outgrow in three months after my parents spend $100 on them? Or what about a Nintendo? Everyone else has one! I will write it on my Christmas list at least ten times. And mention it every day. Maybe my parents will get the hint. Just writing that conjures up memories…

However, Emry does go to dance class each week. And despite the fact that the girls are “social distancing” (everyone has a box outlined in tape they have to stay in), six feet is close enough to know if one girl has something she does not have. And this week one little girl just got her ears pierced. “And, Mama!” I heard this morning. “She’s only four!” 

Now, Emry has mentioned getting her ears pierced before, but it’s been several months. I think the last time she brought it up, I walked her through the whole process, and she decided having a needle more-or-less shot through her earlobe just wasn’t what she bargained for. But now that she knows a girl who is fourand has her ears pierced, well… We heard about it all morning long. So, I gave it some serious thought and asked Ed what he thought this afternoon. We came to a decision. Thankfully, for she brought it up yet again when I put her to bed tonight. And, on Saturday, she will get her ears pierced as an early Christmas present. And we will hear no more about it. 

Until some other little girl shows up at dance class with some amazing dance leotard…

Happy Trick-or-Treating!

It dawned on me as we journeyed around our neighborhood this evening that in his memory, this the first time Ethan has been trick-or-treating. He went as an infant the first time we took Emry. The following year he went and loved it, but he wasn’t even two. Last year, as it snowed about two inches, we were in the backyard in snow gear and not super heroes searching the neighborhood for candy. This year, though, the weather was rather pleasant and the walk quite nice.

 

Yes, yes, people didn’t come out in droves. Afraid someone would toss Covid in the kids’ bags instead of candy. But since we don’t have anyone in the neighborhood that works for the CDC (that we know of), that didn’t happen. And those who did come out, whether to trick-or-treat or to hand out candy, seemed to enjoy the socializing and just being neighborly – even if some took the mask precaution. And even though I heard a neighbor say the turn out was way down, the kids still came home with enough candy to last until next Halloween.

 

Ethan had a blast. He was on top of the world, dashing up people’s driveways shouting, “Happy Trick-or-Treating!” (I’m not sure he ever realized the holiday is actually called “Halloween”.) Over and over as we trooped along the sidewalks, he exclaimed, “This is awesome!” Only when we left one particularly spooky house did he state emphatically at least three times, “That was not awesome! That was scary!” But he had no nightmares or anything over it, so the excitement far outshone anything scary.

 

Emry seemed to take it all in stride. Come to think of it, she always has. She’s not overly excited, but she is friendly with the neighbors, polite, and points out the costumes of others. She careful as she crosses the street. She warns Ethan when he’s overly zealous. And if you ask her if she had fun, she states simply, “Yep.” Perhaps she went to the same trick-or-treating training course her cousin Beto did. He joined us that evening with Grandma (my mom) who, trying to be sure he knew the proper etiquette of saying “trick-or-treat” and “thank-you” was informed that he knew all that already: he had been trained.

 

And Ellyson? She was just delighted to be outside, sitting in her stroller and taking it all in. She lovesbeing outside.

 

Spider Man (Ethan), Ellyson and Elsa (Emry

Pictures!!!

By child number three, the amount of pictures taken becomes much lower than child number one and even lower than child number two. But I am trying, and I wanted to share. Because isn’t she soooo cute?

A New (Old) Word

It isn’t often I come across a “new” word. I mean, a goodnew word. Not words that have been redefined, which is what “new” words usually are in this day and age. People simply take a perfectly good word (or name) and redefine it until some of us are nearly afraid to use it. So, like the word I just discovered, really good “new” words are usually old words I’ve just never heard.

 

Several weeks ago I was reading a book about one of George Washington’s army brigades who earned the name “The Immortals”. The author quoted out of journals he had come across and in one of those entries, a man described the Continental Army as a bunch of “tatterdemalions”.

 

Now that, I thought, is a fun word. So fun I had to say it aloud. And then look up what it means.

 

Tatterdemalion: ragged or disreputable in appearance; being in a decayed state or condition; dilapidated

 

Yes, I would say that is a very good way to describe the Continental Army. And it rather sounds just as it means.

Why don’t we use good words like that anymore?

Fish #2

Actually, this post is months late. I thought about posting it months ago, but I had other things I wanted to write about instead. And while the people I work with would never believe me if I told them I do procrastinate at times (they have taken to putting “No Rush” in their e-mails when I don’t have to do that project in the next five minutes)…well, I do – sometimes – procrastinate.

 

You may recall a couple of months ago that we bought Emry a fish. A pet, it would seem, that is not as simplistic as I would have thought. (But it is 2020, so nothing is simplistic.) We brought “Pink Flower” home and I followed all the rules the lady at the pet store yammered off to me…or so I thought. The fish wasn’t in the tank for two days before it died.

 

I found it that night, hoping against hope that it was…sleeping? But it wasn’t. And I started to cry. I don’t believe in all my forty years I have cried over a pet before. I haven’t had a lot of pets and I didn’t really get emotionally involved with the few I had. But I cried over this dead fish. It would be easy to wave it aside as hormones (which was probably part of the problem), but I really didn’t know how I was going to tell Emry. Her first longed for pet had died. And I was pretty sure I had somehow killed it. Not intentionally, of course, but somewhere in the long list of instructions I had failed to follow something. And now I had a dead fish. And the prospects of one very said little girl. 

 

And she was sad. Although she shed a lot less tears than I did. And we took her back to the pet store that very day to get a new fish. For the one glimmer in all of this was we had a two-week warranty on the fish (it came with that for free) so we didn’t have to pay for a new one! I also brought in a sample of the water from the tank for them to test and asked the lady for very specific instructions on how to get this fish safely into our tank. Since our water tested just fine for this new fish’s survival, I carefully followed the instructions. And “Green Star” the fish is still with us!

 

To be honest, this little greenish blue Beta fish is a surprisingly fun little thing. It comes up to you when you go to look at it. (Which I do quite a lot…still fearful this one will die on me, too!) It seems to know Emry, who is very faithful to feed it each morning. Even Ellyson enjoys watching it. I never thought a fish had a personality, but this one almost seems to. So, all in all, the whole adventure of our first pet has turned out quite well. 

And now Emry reminds me weekly that she is ready for a dog…and a cat…

Jack-o-Lanterns

As a kid I have memories of getting pumpkins (some of them we grew, but I’m not sure where some of them came from when we lived in the south) and cutting jack-o-lanterns. It was yet another one of those artistic things I really wanted to be good at and do wonderfully creative montages you see on Pinterest. But like most arts and crafts, I got terribly bored and frustrated with it half way through cutting out the first triangular eye. My very few jack-o-lanterns were never works of art.

 

With my own kids we have only done jack-o-lanterns once before and that was the October after Ethan was born. I don’t remember why we did it. I imagine it was something Ed wanted to do and we had been to a local farm to get a pumpkin or two anyhow for me to cook and puree for baking. This year, though, Emry and Ethan have both seen jack-o-lanterns in enough books to want to do it themselves. So, they each got a pumpkin.

 

Of course the “do it themselves” would me too much at the ages of 3 and 5. So while they drew the faces they wanted and helped scrape out the seeds and pulp, Mama did all the cutting. And this is how we made jack-o-lanterns today:

 

Step 1: draw directions so Mama knows what we’re doing. (This was their own idea…like most kids they don’t believe I did anything before they came along.)

 

Step 2: cut the tops open and scrape out the insides, keeping the seeds for roasting. (There is no picture for this step. I was up to my elbows in pumpkin insides and Ed had yet to come out and join the fun.)

Step 3: draw the face on the pumpkin.

 

Step 4: act goofy, chatter a mile a minute, and generally ask how much longer is this going to take while Mama cuts out the faces.

Step 5: show off the jack-o-lanterns!

 

Step 6: wait until almost dark to go out and light them, shivering with both delight and cold.

Fair Oaks

Last weekend, we ventured once again up the Fair Oaks farm to wile away a Saturday playing outdoors and enjoying time as a family with Grandpa and Grandma. And while the farm always means lots of jumping on the inflatable trampoline thing, the low ropes course, and ice cream; this time of year it also means pumpkins and apples! 

 

We picked four bags full of apples, putting in as many as we could get in each bag. A lot of orchards in our area have little to no apples this year because of a late freeze that killed their blossoms. So, we needed to get our fill! And while we didn’t pick out pumpkins from the patch, we picked some up at the store there at the farm just before we left. Two of them will become jack-o-lanterns. The other two will be cooked down and pureed for pies, bread, and who knows what else! 

 

Emry in the orchard.

 

We’re not sure why Ethan thought the bag needed to be held like this.

In the pumpkin patch.

 

With some of the pumpkins for the large pumpkin contest.

 

And Ellyson!

I'm not Old - I'm Historic

Turning 40 this year has been a challenge. For that matter, simply living in 2020 has been a challenge. And I don’t think that has anything to do with my age. To be honest, I just can’t figure out how I got to 40. I don’t feel 40. (Most of the time.) I like to think I don’t look 40. (But that’s probably just me being vain.) And I have certainly found that I don’t consider 40 to be old. At least, I’m trying not to.

 

But all that changed this week.

 

The Christmas of 1991, my sister Katey and I were introduced to American Girl dolls when one of my aunts gave Katey the first three Samantha books for Christmas. I have a sneaky suspicion I didn’t get many books that Christmas because I clearly remember devouring all three of them before Christmas day was over. After that, Katey and I checked out every American girl book at the library (which only included Molly, Samantha and Kirsten at the time). We sent in for our free catalog. And even though I was a bit old to get into dolls again, I did secretly want Samantha. (And got her on my 29^thbirthday before they retired her…and then brought her back.) We were delighted when Felicity arrived, followed by Addy, and then Kit, Josefina and Kaya. Yes, by now I was well into my teens and twenties. I wasn’t all that happy when Julie came out, for the 1970s aren’t worth reliving even when one didn’t live during them. Cecile and Marie-Grace were an interesting idea. I loved Rebecca and Caroline. I mourned when some of the dolls were retired. I still don’t like the three-book series instead of the six books (although I rejoice that they have finally put pictures back into them). And I’ve actually enjoyed the newer girls of Maryellen, Melody, and Nanea.  Yes. I own all the books. Many of them I have read a multitude of times. I look forward to enjoying them with Emry and Ellyson. And I wonder if they’ll introduce a new historical character and what time period she will live in.

 

Until this week.

 

It was in my inbox. The link to the new historical doll. Who was she? What decade did she represent? What great historical things would she witness? What were her wardrobe and accessories like? I anxiously clicked to discover…

 

And found out that I am not only old…I am now historic.

 

Courtney is the new American Girl doll, a name that truly represents the year she lives in: 1986. She plays video games. She has a pair of jeans almost identical to the ones I wore. She has neon clothes, a Care Bears sleeping bag, a fanny pack, scrunchies, Lisa Frank stickers, and a poofy hair style you can easily sweep over into a side pony tail. In essence, she is me. 

And while I am looking forward to finding out how this girl maneuvered through 1986 (just as I did 34 years ago), all I can say is: Thank You, American Girl Company. As if 2020 couldn’t get any worse, you have now reminded me that I am not only old, I am historic.

4 Months!!!

Today our little girl is four whole months old! Although, perhaps I should not say “little”. Weighing in at 11 pounds, 13 ounces and 24 inches long, she has far outpaced her older siblings at this age and seems huge to me. But at only the five percentile, no wonder she still looks tiny to others.

 

The past month has been one of discoveries and firsts. She can roll from her tummy to her back, but doesn’t do it frequently. She has discovered her left thumb. (Sigh.) A few days ago she found out she has a tongue, which she proudly displays as often as she can. She is also recovering from her first cold. (Thanks Emry and Ethan for sharing!) But even in the midst of her cold, she has laughed and been quite content. So, even though our schedule has been thrown to the wind, exhausting me, I am glad she’s feeling good in spite of sniffles and a cough.

 

It would appear Ellyson has reddish hair, much to my surprise after two dark headed kids who are now brown with blond streaks. And she also brings back long forgotten faint memories of my sister Katey when she was a baby. It’s something about some of the looks she gives me, her roundish face, and maybe the reddish hair. And that’s fine…as long as she doesn’t someday have the Ogilvie nose! 

She didn’t want to show the sticker.

 

Sock Monkey…and the tongue!

Praying Mantises

In fourth grade, we learned about the praying mantis.  It was probably in our science book, a subject I usually paid only enough attention to in order to pass the test. However, this insect was driven home when in that time period, one of my classmates found one during recess. I recall it being at least four inches long, bright green, and a fascinating ugly. Outside of that, the only thing I remember about that insect is they turn brown as they die.

 

The next time I ran into a praying mantis it was bronzed into a door handle at the Connecticut State Capitol Building. As the state insect, it was so honored along with other state things like the robin (state animal) and mountain laurel (state flower). A bit odd, perhaps, but certainly interesting.

 

After that, I don’t recall seeing a praying mantis again. Until we moved to Indiana. They live by the dozens here. During the late summer, we see them at our house and at my parents. All of them are green, turning brown. Most of them are on the small side, but we’ve seen a couple that are a good three inches. They fascinate Emry and Ethan.

 

And, so, we had a to get a book on them at the library. Emry got to the book first, looking through it one afternoon during her rest time. When she handed me the book the read to them a couple of nights later, she told me, “Mama, one of them looks like a pterodactyl.” I didn’t know what she meant, but I soon found out. And I would say it looks more like the Green Goblin from Spider Man.

 

Did you know that there are over 3,000 praying mantis species? Did you know they are cannibals? Not only do they eat other insects, but they also eat each other. And did you know they come in a variety of colors? The ones that live in the rain forest blend into flowers and not just grass or leaves. The one in the book that was bright green, white and purple is the one Emry called a pterodactyl. I was just as amazed at the pink and white flowery one.

I can’t say I will ever be a praying mantis fan. I am glad they eat the insects I don’t want in my yard. I can’t say I’m thrilled to find out they’re also cannibals. And, to be honest, I find them rather creepy looking. But now I also find them quite fascinating. And a reminder of how great our Creator truly is.