Another Monsterpiece

My 3 year old strikes again.  He really knows how to think outside the box.

Just drawing with chalk is so boring.  Making multicolored dust is way cooler.

"My hands are pretty pretty, huh mom?"

I have to admit, the rock is kinda cool.

You know, back in the day and maybe even now in third world countries, they would probably think such rudimentary use of tools quite a talent for a kid his age, and would put him to good use grinding wheat or something.

I'll try to remember what a talented, free-thinker I have.

(Of course, it's harder to appreciate his creativity after pulling 5 or 6 pieces of his chalk out of the washing machine --after it had already filled with water and soap.  I was just lucky I hadn't put clothes in yet.)

Meet the Neighbors

This was what I saw yesterday evening over the period of 1 hour, all within walking distance of my home. (Or maybe I should say this is what I captured, because there were many more things that I didn't manage to take pictures of.)

Canada Geese and goslings

I'm amazed at the difference in sizes these gosling come in. I mean, they were all born at the same time...

Osprey

Can't wait to get pictures of their babies. Right now they're just starting to build the nest.

Western Tanager (my favorite)

 Like a jewel in the trees.

Red-Tailed Hawk

 Soaring looks so fun.

Magpie

 An unfortunate name for such a pretty bird.

Robin

I know, pretty common, but unlike the little birds, the chickadees and finches, he posed and let me take his picture.


I think I could get used to this neighborhood.

Oooouuuuuuch...

E.T.?  

Nope.

This is what happens when your nearly 10 month old touches a wall mounted electric heater vent.

Ah, the joys of a new home, full of new hazards that you have yet to discover.

Don't worry, he's okay. Seriously, he was happy and smiley by the time we got to the Urgent Care clinic, and the Dr. sent us home saying, "Well, if it doesn't bother him, there's not much for me to do." Maybe babies his age don't have the attention span to focus on the pain like we adults do, or maybe he was simply blessed.

Move #13

Moving, in a nutshell:  

Compression...

And in our case, Compression again, as we tightly packed not only the truck but a storage unit as well...

Decompression...

(Sorry for the crappy pictures, we left the camera at my sister's with the kids.)

And finally, Compression.

My husband didn't bother mentioning the flour handprint on my behind before snapping this pic.
Thanks a lot.

Leaving half our stuff behind each Summer makes us realize how much stuff we could really do without.

Yes, our employers house us in a one bedroom apartment... all five of us... but hey, it's free, so I'm not complaining.

(On top of the unused bunk beds that come with the place is our only space for storage.  In case you were wondering what's up there. You may recognize the set up from last year, although this time the whole place is reversed.)

The boys are cozy in their "cave," and we sleep on a futon in the living room.  At least I'm not in my third trimester this time around.

It's not perfect, but it's liveable. At least for 3 months out of the year anyway.

Is it worth it?

Well, we get to swap this...

(Ignore the rainbow, and imagine barking dogs at 2 in the morning.
This is the only picture I have from our old balcony.)

...for this.

You be the judge.

Just a Trim

I cut my own kids hair, although not as often as I should.  This time it got amazingly long, so we decided to to before and after pictures.  

Here's the "before"... but, as usual, I forgot to take the "after."  You might be able to see the difference in another post.

This time it was the baby's first hair cut.  I'd never had to cut the hair of any of my kids at such a young age (9 mos), and I was unsure of how to go about it.

We decided the best way to keep his head stationary was to hold a sucker in one place let him suck on it.  I don't generally give my babies sugar, but this was the exception.  He loved it.

He would look back every once in a while to see how things were going, but after deciding everything was fine, it was back to focusing on the sucker.  It worked like a charm.  I just had to be careful not to let the hair fall in the sticky mess.

I wonder how they do it at real barber shops.

Anyone else have a way that works for them?

A Day Just For Me?

Not really.  But a day where I am reminded of my new identity that started almost five years ago.  It's an identity I cherish.

This Mother's Day I had the opportunity to realize how motherhood has made me a better person in many ways

I have become...

More grateful for the little things --like sleep, as I was allowed to sleep in mother's day morning.

Less concerned about appearances --as we were late for church after enjoying the delicious pancake breakfast my husband made.

More frugal and resourceful --as I wore a "new" shirt which, like most of my clothes, I found at the thrift store, and later made a  dinner out of the few ingredients we had in the house since we went on a date and I didn't get around to shopping the night before.

Less selfish --as I allowed my children to eat the chocolate gift I had been given.

More loving as they teach me by example how to communicate love.  Their hugs, their kisses, their sweet words as they tell me, "I wuv you so much."  It melts my heart even on the hardest days --

...because of course, there are hard days.  And those have given me opportunities for improvement in areas I thought I was doing pretty good in, like patience, ,and anger management,

Most of all though, I realize how much my heart has expanded to include all these little hearts; their cares, their fears, their dreams  --all of which have become as important to me as my own, if not more so.

My heart is full.

Retired

This old bear has seen a lot of miles.  He's been there from the beginning When Gramma Z gave it to him at his blessing.

('09)

I think I've re-sewn on every appendage, every seam, at least once.

We couldn't go anywhere without "White Bear" --who in the end wasn't so white-- nor could my three year old be expected to sleep without white bear by his side.

My kisses were never enough when there was an owie, a bad dream, or some injustice imposed by a big brother; only white bear could console him.

And even after an unfortunate experience in a hot dryer left him somewhat disfigured and less fuzzy, he was still loved.

Sadly though, seams stopped holding --despite my best efforts, stuffing was lost, and washes never seemed to get him white again. (Note: dollar store toys do not make for lasting lovies).

So when my three year old expressed a desire for another toy he saw in the store, I jumped at the opportunity to replace White Bear. (I know, so heartless of me.)

I explained to him that we would throw White Bear away, that he would sleep with his new toy from now on, and surprisingly, he readily agreed.

With an unceremonious farewell, White Bear entered "toy retirement."

I think it was harder for me in some ways.

 Meet "Hippo."
(I know, so original, but he's three).

I hope I'm not so easily replaced.

Three Fishing Trips

 So after finding out that we'd be back in Idaho for the Fall, (yeah, didn't get into any PhD programs, but we're not going to talk about it) we decided to go ahead and buy some Idaho fishing licenses.  Of course, I've talked about our fishing experiences before, and I guess I'm just always hoping things will get better.  The kids have also been playing a few fishing games on the wii, and won't stop begging me to take them fishing for real. (Yes, I did explain to them that it's very different than the game, but I wanted to get out of the house anyway.)

Well, the first time we went was a beautiful evening... but that's about all it was.

 Yep, skunked again.

The next time we went fishing actually started out as an impromptu walk/picnic with a good friend of mine and her kids.  I called her up to go for a walk, and it just so happened that her husband was already there fishing.

We never did end up going on that walk, I was suddenly too interested in fishing.  She probably thought I was weird.

My four year old, laying on the charm.

 Well, it just so happened that we hit the timing just right.  When we got there, her husband told us they had just stocked the ponds that morning.  He was catching them right and left!

I love the face she's making. (And the pink stained shirt thanks to my son's generosity with his Powerade)

 Since I still had the stuff in my car, I thought we'd try our hand at it too.  Soon after they left for an appointment, we caught one!

He knows how to make 'em look big. It was actually a little too small and we threw it back.

He didn't appreciate the flopping.

Poor thing was nearly squeezed to death.

They didn't care for the sliminess either, but my four year old figured out how to avoid that one.

 Our trip was cut short, however, by a sleepy baby and so we went home with the promise we would come back with daddy after he got home from work.

Sure enough, when we went back that evening our prime fishing spot was taken.

The baby was kept busy for a little while, but in the end kept daddy from getting his fair share of fishing in.

Finally, success!!

 
Again, slightly larger than an anchovy, this one was set free to be caught another day.  I'm afraid things slowed down after that, and we didn't have any keepers, but it was still fun.

And I only got one hook stuck in my hand.  Success indeed.