Taylor turns nine

Story starters

She's painting with watercolors, and humming a song. Strawberry Shortcake's seeds are brown, surrounded by characteristic red. He's home sick, still pale after weeks and weeks of "why won't you get better?" Sick and tired of school, and the push to perform even when natural instinct says "relax and enjoy".

It's been a homeschool day anyway, nearly filled a book with "What if dogs wore shoes" and "if cats could read" or "people lived under water". I asked and then I quoted in my own handwriting, my work and labor, to show him I valued his thinking and "look, this is fun!" He finally wrote his own, with 1st grade-encouraged spelling.

What if an owl liked to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? "Then evry time he makes one I'll steal it." Spends all his stories committing crimes. Stealing jewels from the slow hippo who was king of the world, ice cream from the ice cream shop owning turtle (again, too slow).

But don't ask a homeschooled sick kid with school-earned skills in writing and reading, "What if it never stopped raining?" Because then he'll "hope school is cancelled, yay!", despite your reminder that he's such a good reader, writer, and thinker because he learns there.

On sale at Zulily's

Now, planning ahead for a five year old's birthday, a daughter who has yet to reach 4 1/2...is easy. Because I get to indulge all those "when I was homeschooling" desires. Emphasizing to my child an author loved throughout my childhood.

She can quietly celebrate her half-birthday this March, with nary a clue of what I am plotting. A preschool-based education where Richard Scarry's our teacher, no, our best friend.

Finding our ABC's everywhere, learning to count to ten in English AND Spanish, also by tens and up to a hundred. Plus stickers, tons.

(click the pics)

Shopping at Wal-mart

We're becoming converts, but only to the groceries. Was a bleu cheese dip right there up front with the produce, Marketside...all natural. So of course last night, on our trip home from the cabin, had to stop at Crookston's. Most perfectly-sized Wal-mart (comparable to Target) on the planet.

Filled up the cart with my Braeburns and oranges, plus an orange pepper for tonight's balsamic chicken noodle bowl. Husband LOVES it, and so do the children. It's kind of like an olive oil type of nourishment laced with layers upon layers of dried basil. Add balsamic, and garlic.

Making this loaf of cheesy garlic bread for my family, since a particular garlic parmesan french bread loaf called me out for $1.50. Nothing like gooey bready goodness to accompany a meal of linguine pasta, plus the dressing. Going to add walnuts this time even, toasted.

100th Day Celebration

Everybody needs a caramel sauce

If you're like Melanie, and unafraid to try to analyze every recipe that crosses your path, then you'll have your own batch of homemade caramel sauce waiting for you in the fridge. Right beside, of course, that hot fudge syrup that might (or might not) come in handy at any minute.

Being an accomplished chef like Melanie is, self-trained, makes others want to wander precariously through her footsteps. And find for their own selves, that cooking ain't so hard, in fact it's downright explorable...especially when you have all the right recipes.

To begin with, of course.

Because then, you begin scouring the shelves of your own library, taking home classics like BLUE RIBBON RECIPE WINNERS, or something similarly titled. Definitely filled with bakers and chefs. Damn! You'll have to buy it used then.

Twisted

It wasn't really about the pairings of luxurious foods that drove me to craft that last blogpost. I'm just dancing full-heartedly and yes joyfully in so many spaces in my life, it's incredible. Fancying up that area there, moving forward. Taking it easier on myself for all of life's great regrets, you know, none of them?

Because I'm slowly getting over it everyday, back to my old self, my whole self. That one who lived heartily? With very few missteps, and riding through the tedious sections, but making life work for ME again. Oh, and I'm pregnant.

An anthem

It's been a more special weekend than previously stated, with all three boys out of town (doin' some work at the cabin), it's just me and my girls. Precious moments scattered throughout our days as I enjoy their noise and they spend extra time with each other.

Today dragged us to the water park for a birthday, and last night we saw Secretariat together. Yes, I poured the Reeses Pieces over the popcorn like I always do. Before that, we shopped for t-shirts, then gathered ingredients for Monday's lunches.

Gorgeous beyond gorgeous, fall but almost summerlike weather. Can't complain about the comforting autumn colors, which are EVERYWHERE! Just being a season for the sake of it, with Halloween heading our way as theatrically as ever.

Dates

As if the calendar had magical powers:

September 18th~September 22nd, a Saturday to a Wednesday, the break in between. What was I doing? Besides making extra special memories for all of my children, mostly cavorting oh, and that movie with Zoey. Bought some tiles for the kitchen floor.

Celebrated Maddie's birthday with Halloween spoons, forks, and bowls...just the perfect way to honor a little four year old princess girl. With a witches hat, and new Tinkerbell movie, on BluRay no less.

So, that leaves today. Where I read over old posts from that blog. Yes, over there. Wait, stay!

Squeezing out the tears

Like a pumpkin scraped of its guts, my bones really do rattle from the core and outwards. Each day does not get easier,...the loss, the loss is what it is. And everything before then. If I had a record book to keep all these thoughts and feelings inside, the corrective measures are the fanciest part, you should try them.

Looking back at simply not being able to see, though squinting, that someone might be listening...I simply could not comprehend it. Among the list of the many sins I do own, and use regularly. Trying to stay afloat in a regular ol' life, yet pondering backwards the why's, the how's, and the oh no's, not that road.

Feeling none the better for having written about it, right here, in my very own "for my eyes alone" video blog. Sans moving pictures.

Seven years

Heading backwards you'll see, 4, 3, 2, 1...announcing her gorgeous presence at the alley, the balance provided through him, not hers. And I strut on forth with another successful interaction under my belt, aware of my faults and misgivings. I own them.

Too much time has passed, no more reason left to heal all those doubts, which were/are there for good reason. Being used, over-analyzed, bombarded with assaults to that dignity I had, and lost. Each friend I regain, social interaction I conquer, heals some part of my soul. Not even broken.

Nothing in the way, wholly honest today, and back then, back all the way then, now apologize. The risks were always present, the cure heads my way in forgiveness-prone form, awaiting its arrival. I'm at fault, it's always been me, the blame-able one.

Today's brunches

Whipped up buttery cream cheese CAKE cookies, with a reuben-like sandwich to match, for dinner. The day planned ahead, rewarding whole efforts with a peace and sustenance I hadn't previously had. Then, travel to a shop for some coffee, she said.

In the meantime a Senseo (another), plus milk. And just enjoying the rhythm of kids who get themselves dressed, while I tackle the rest of my work. Full plates ahead.

A new Tuesday

In retrospect, pinto beans married to ground beef, even with ranch sour cream...it leaves me wondering. Can the deluxest taco recipe really ever be found? Back to school shopping for a growing girl whose spurts surprise me. Five determined beings, no skirting around.

Just a mom today, in boring just-a-mom glasses, brand new. Defining these moments as peacefulness re-enters. It's returning, the normalcy of just seeing and being, I'm found.

Deeply enmeshed

The words are scuffled away by some doubting motion, not mine. Who else muse, I ask straightforwardly and honest, but you? The perfect love, flexible to the ends of soul's worth, we'll never meet up in abandon, it's true.

Digging calm waiting out from firm doubting, we'll reconnect our spirits anew. Hidden meanings be gone, yet eager standards stay strong, holding a place aimed for you. Echoes have lost their pull and their grandeur, disguising an old cherished view.

Not really shambles

...but attention getting, no? Well, truth is that I've walked a crooked, tangled path until about three days prior. When I woke up all the way into the truths that are becoming my life. An ever-changing process, not always voluntary, but a natural part of growth.

Dumping losses behind you, that only haunt if given attention, letting go. Standing in them too, waiting through the tides, becoming less rubber than glue. Wanting all the shards to stick, to stay and teach, I'll learn. Wandering towards my forties, it is painful. And you?

Yesterday's journal entry

Marking my accomplishments so each day gathers its meaning. Sometimes, life can seem long and the outcome, God, don't get me started on the outcome. Honestly, the day will come for all of us when our bodies are so frail we've no choice but to depend on those who surround us.

Had I entered mothering with the intention of preparing these young selves to caretake, and to breed a new round of caretakers, just oh. Didn't really occur to me at the time that life's long journey has a surprisingly morbid last third of it.

Fo' sale

Boy Hands

Fresh eyes

Chocolate made it better this morning, and a well-timed Americano fixed my afternoon. Seriously, if I have to walk this same walk everyday for the rest of my life, worth all the effort, no shame in being broken. Because if you only knew.

The places our consciousness must go, as it wades through the shadows. The habits put in place to escape what's not handled, do you know? Do you know, do you know? Because I don't. Mostly amazed 100% of the time by where I left off, still being unfound.

I'm recreating all that I 0nce strived to be. No shame, no shame in that. Fell far though, hadn't recognized I'd lost it, but keep falling regardless. Until I gain my breath. Will I regain my breath? I don't even know.

Page 2 weekend

I have a murderous headache on the left side of my head, coupled with waves of stress rising upward, also on the left. Took some cold medicine to relieve my sinuses, and am patiently waiting for the stress gods to land.

Why am I stressed out, I ask. We're making our own pizzas, and I'm attempting sauce. Again, sauce. Pepperonis, black olives, cheese of course. Who wouldn't? Some culinarian with training out there, I'm sure. Not I, just winging it.

With mah Fat Tire (a luxury, believe me)...and um, yeah, those flowers I told you.