Friday, April 25, 2008

abidoo






i had a michevios abby post for abby planned. but she has once again disabled my keyboard, and this on-screen keyboard is really hard to use... to be cont...

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

JOY

One of my favorite things about Peter is that if you give him a Popsicle he will sit and watch any show with me. A few weeks ago we watched a documentary about the Shivers, and after the hour long documentary (it was a large Popsicle) he actually said in his most sincere voice, that was a good show Mommy. Today after Abby went down for a nap. I wanted to watch American Idol. I knew there was only one way to get Peter on board, and there happened to be one remaining magic Popsicle in the freezer. Peter snuggled up to me and we started to watch. After a few minutes we heard a gurgle, gurgle, gurgle. Peter looked up at me and said in the most adorable 3 year old voice, "was that your tummy, or mine?" I said, "I think it was mine." He said, "Oh." And went back to his Popsicle. It wasn't really that funny, but it was a moment in time I wanted to hold to. He had sand in his hair from our trip to the park earlier that day, and brownie mix on his face from the brownies in the oven, he had scabs on his face from his sister who thinks she is a cat, and I couldn't have loved him any more at that moment. My sweet innocent little boy who is so easily contented with refined sugar, sand, sunshine, and his "best mommy in the whole world." I really would never suggest that I am a great Mother, and most days I am completely overwhelmed with inadiquiacy (I can't bring myself to edit my misspelling of that word), but Peter doesn't know that, and in quiet moments he loves me as purely as one can love, because I am his mother. It is in those quite moments that there is no greater joy.

So lately I have been thinking about motherhood. It can be ridiculously trying, I dare say even repulsive (this really means a lot from someone who suctions mucous for a living). The experience of motherhood changes from moment to moment, often quite dramatically. Love, fear, disgust, joy, anger, and hope all take on such deepened forms that I have begun to wonder if I ever really knew these emotions in any real way before this wild parental journey began.
I usually try to wash Peter's face before I take his pictures, and sometimes I even touch-up scars, but today I really wanted to capture the moment in all its raw beauty. I can't help but hink of Wordsworth..."that in this moment there is life, and food for future years, and so I dare to hope..

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Things I wish I didn't have to tell my children

Diaper cream is not for finger painting.
Don't drink cologne.
We don't drink out of the toilet.
Don't chew on the coffee table.
We don't poop in the bathtub.
We don't take things out of the garbage can.
We don't make soup with cough drops.
Bellies are not for paintings.
We never smear our poop on anything.

I can't really decide whether these are things I wish I didn't have to say, or whether these are things I wish I would have said earlier. Pictures to follow...

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Fun fun fun...

I was so excited to discover the existance of a tandem tricycle. As Peter would say, "it's perfect for us." Peter loves to ride his tricycle, but Abby was very unhappy about not having a tricycle. This is an awesome solution. I used to think a seat belt on a tricycle was a super lame and ultra protective, but I have changed my tune. I am pretty much for anything that can limit the extreme danger Abby poses to herself. I try not to be a braggy blogger, but I am pretty proud of myself for this one. The kids closet used to have 3 brown hollow core panels that overlapped. It was not a very usable space, and one of the panels had a big section of the finish torn off. So I constructed (from a closet kit) and installed these shelves and new bi-fold doors. I still haven't painted my 2x4 (which are not really 2x4 I am not sure how I missed that memo.) The final benefit is that Abby can't reach the books and tear out pages, one of her new destructive bed time pass times.



My Mom cut the letters for the kids room in September, but I picked bad color and made her reprint, thanks Mom! Oh, and David in his new found handiness hung the picture rail. I have totally been in love with the idea of picture rail since I saw it in Mark Twains house on my first tour. Thank you David! I am totally impressed.