Easter 2015

We had a really nice Easter here, just us.

On Saturday, at the end of a busy day of soccer games, errands, and Tim looking in multiple stores to find me some fresh flowers (sorry hon, I know I'm a pain in the butt), the kids dyed eggs.

On Sunday morning I took a pictures of the Easter Bunny's handiwork before the kids dove in.  This year he brought the girls new earrings, including their first pairs of danglies, which they had been eagerly awaiting since they had their ears pierced last April. Timmy got a couple of the trucks that he'd fallen in love with the last time I took him to CVS. 

We Skyped with Grandma and Grandpa in Massachusetts, and they showed them their goodies. It was snowing there -- what?

I admired the mason jars I'd painted at Craft Night, with the flowers that Tim had procured for me the day before. The pink blooms came from a bush down the street. He walked down the street with Annie yesterday to get them and he felt like a thief doing it. They are so beautiful. I wish we had them growing in our own yard so we wouldn't have to feel guilt about clipping a few here and there.

Tim found this letter that Annie had written for him a few days ago while he was away on yet another trip. It says, "Dear Daddy, I miss you. I want you to come back on Thursday. You are 'pose to come back on Friday. I love you. You are coming back in two more days. Love, Annie." That just melts my heart.

Here they are ready for Mass.

After Mass, everyone went outside for an Easter egg hunt.

Back at home we asked our neighbor to take some pictures of us.

Tim gave me a hard time about the stepstool on the porch. I hadn't gotten around to taking it back inside after watering the ferns that morning. He said, "That's what you get for being lazy!" I said, "I wasn't being lazy. The stool was wet. I needed to let it dry before bringing it in." 

It was a beautiful, happy Easter Sunday for us, and today it's back to business as usual. Tim is off again on another trip and the kids are back to school. Spring break doesn't start until Monday. We're going to start the break early and drive to Ohio to see my side of the family for a week. I'm so excited. I haven't been back there in a long time -- I think two Christmases ago. I've got a busy few days to prepare!

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

~Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life~

{pretty}

I ordered these pillow covers with our home state outlines on them from Etsy a month-and-a-half ago, and they just arrived a few days ago. They came all the way from China, many, oh so many days later than the production and shipping time estimates were. I was so annoyed by how long they took and I will never again order from an Etsy shop in China. It's just that they were exactly what I wanted and I couldn't find them anywhere else. This house has been one gigantic blank slate for me ever since we moved in in July, and I am piecing it together slowly. It makes me happy that now our entry is a fitting introduction to the rest of the house and who we are as a family. Kind of.  Little by little it's coming together. That green bench is something I picked up at a consignment store a few months ago, and immediately had second thoughts about it. I'm still not attached to it, but those burlap pillows make it a lot nicer to look at.

{happy}

Annie likes to get herself going as fast and high as she can on the swing, and then jump out.  We just got that swing a couple weeks ago and I'm really glad we did because Annie loves to swing.  The others like it but Annie LOVES it.  This picture was taken yesterday evening.

Earlier today just as Timmy and I were arriving home, we saw Tim being dropped off in front of our house.  He had just gotten home from his trip to New York.  Timmy asked me to let him out right there, so I did and he ran across the yard yelling, "Daddy!" I grabbed my phone to capture their happy reunion.

{funny and real - they seem to go together hand in hand, don't they?}

A couple days ago, I microwaved the last of the leftover chicken tortilla soup for lunch. It was the perfect amount to fill up the bowl and I felt satisfied that not a single drop would go to waste. Once it was nice and hot I squeezed some lime juice in and added a dollop of Daisy. Perfection. Then I made my way to the table, holding it gingerly with two hands. It was heavy and it was hot. I was sooooo close to my chair when it suddenly slipped out of my hands and hit the floor. I didn't even get a warning, never felt it start to slip. One instant I had it and the next, SPLAT! I could have cried. The mess was so huge. I was so hungry. I was sliding quickly into a pit of despair. Then it came to me: real. I grabbed my camera. It doesn't get any more real than this.

Proving Tim's point about why we should not bother reupholstering these chairs

Timmy and I were in awe of the scope of this mess. It looked like someone had projectile vomited, splashing the floor, the chair, the wall, the window and the curtains.

And I was all out of paper towels. But it made for a good story!

For more {phfr}, go to Like Mother, Like Daughter.

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

~Capturing the context of contentment in every day life~ 

I've gotten lazy about blogging again, so I thought now would be a good time to join Like Mother, Like Daughter and do one of these.  I say "lazy", but it isn't really laziness that's the problem. I have a whole lot to say; I just don't know where to start.  I think this is just what I need to get myself taking pictures and blogging again.  I'm going to try to make it a date every Thursday and see how it goes.

I have spent almost a week working on this post, and I have to say that pretty and happy have been really easy to find, while funny and real have been a bit trickier.  I'm treating it like a challenging assignment that just has to get done and doesn't need to be perfect.  I can do it!

{pretty}

A big southern porch like this one demands some greenery, but I am kind of a brown thumb.  No more, I say!  A couple people, my mom being one of them I think, told me that ferns would do well in this shady area.  A few days ago I went out and picked some up, and I shrieked for joy like a little girl when I saw how pretty they looked hanging up.  In my online research into care of ferns, I read that they have a "strong survival instinct."  I didn't know it was possible for a plant to have any kind of instinct, but that will serve them well at my house!  

{happy}

Annie and Timmy spend a lot of their time together NOT getting along, so whenever I see her reading to him, my heart sings. She reads to him often, especially on weekends.  At bedtime, too, when I'm reading something to Delaney that doesn't interest them, she'll read to him in his room.  On Friday evening when it got kind of quiet I said to Tim, "What do you think they're up to?"  Once in a while I catch them being good, and this was one of those times!  It really does happen, and it gives me reason to hope that one day they won't always be picking on each other incessantly.

{funny and real}

Pickin' and grinnin'

Just as we were arriving at the Y yesterday morning, Timmy had this to share with me: "Mama, I like my boogers better than your dinner."  I gasped, feigning outrage, and sputtered, "What?!  You like your boogers better than my dinners?  You don't want tacos tonight, you just want boogers?"  He said, "Well, I still like your dinners.  And I like boogers too."  Ick!

What We're Reading: Number the Stars

I have my sister Grace to thank for this fantastic read-aloud because she gave it to Delaney for Christmas.  Delaney read it herself first, and then asked me to read it at bedtime.  She then made sure to correct me on every part I misread or that she thought I'd misread (for example, she did not easily accept that "Kirsti" was not really "Kristi").  I first read this 1990 Newberry Award winner when I was about 12.  I know I enjoyed it but didn't remember a whole lot about it all these years later.  I never would have thought to read it with the kids because I mistakenly remembered it as being more of a Young Adult novel.  I soon discovered that Delaney's at the perfect age for this fictional story of a 10-year-old Danish heroine who along with her family, helps smuggle her Jewish best friend and her family to Sweden during World War II.

The story moves quickly and the chapters are very short which is perfect for those nights when bedtime happens a little later than it ought to.  But every chapter ended leaving us wanting more, and many ended with cliffhangers, making it nearly impossible to read just one chapter at bedtime.  Delaney was always disappointed when we had to end for the night, and a lot of times so was I.  We got sucked right in.

The story opens in Copenhagen, Denmark in 1943, as Annemarie and her best friend Ellen are racing home from school with Annemarie's five-year-old little sister trailing along behind.  Then they are ordered to halt by one of the Nazi soldiers patrolling the city, and are interrogated.  We never again see the girls acting like carefree kids.  The presence of the soldiers is becoming ever more oppressive, and the girls and their families are growing more fearful as the first few chapters progress.  They've seen their country taken over, good food and new clothes have become scarce, and the people tiptoe around trying to avoid angering the increasingly edgy German soldiers.  Sometimes Annemarie wonders just how far her family and she herself would go to protect the Jews of their country from the Nazis.  She feels scared when she thinks about that, but then she remembers that she's just an  "ordinary person who would never be called upon for courage."  

One day, word gets out that all the Jews of the city are to be rounded up and taken away.  Annemarie must be brave and help her family as they help Ellen and her family escape.  Annemarie learns quickly about the bravery and sacrifice that ordinary people like herself are capable of.  This is based on the true story of the Danish Resistance and how they smuggled thousands of Jews to safety in Sweden.

Throughout the book, Delaney would sometimes interrupt with questions such as, "Who were the Nazis?"  I tried to explain to her about what happened back then, with Hitler and the Holocaust.  This book is an appropriate introduction to that subject for kids since the focus is on how the good people fought back, and does not go into gory details of Nazi atrocities.

We also talked about what it means to be courageous.  At one point Annemarie said to her uncle who had praised her courage, "But I was so scared!"  And he said that they all were scared, but basically, being courageous means you do what you have to do anyway.  It definitely got Delaney thinking, and she said to me, "Do you think I'm courageous?"  I could have said, "Sure!" but instead I said, "What do you think?"  She just looked thoughtful.  It is hard for anyone to know what kind of courage they'll have when they need it, and when you're a seven-year-old who spends half your life in the back of your mom's SUV, it's pretty tough to imagine being in the scenarios that Annemarie was in.  But I know she's got a big heart for her friends and is developing ideas of good and bad, right from wrong.  I liked having the opportunity to talk about these things with her.  As far as Annie and Timmy go.. they probably just enjoyed extra time to wrestle before bed.  I think Annie was listening maybe some of the time.

Bring on the next great read-aloud!

I didn't get anything for Valentine's Day.

Tim looked over at me with a wry smile last night and said, "I didn't get you anything for Valentine's Day."

I looked back at him and said, "I know you didn't get me anything."

Looking taken aback he said, "What do you mean, you know?"  It must have been something in my tone that made him think I was discontented even though the two of us have not really celebrated Valentine's Day for years now.  (We do get the kids some little surprises because that's fun.)

I said to him, "You do nice things for me all the time.  I'd rather you do nice things for me every day than wait for one day a year and get me some crappy chocolates --"

"Hey, maybe that's what I should do," he joked.

So, that conversation got me thinking today, about all the things he does for me, big and little.  This is true love:

- Wiping the splatters out of the inside of the microwave;

- Taking the kids out of the house for half of a Saturday, allowing me to clean the house without interruption and have time to myself;

- Kicking his dipping habit for good, losing 25 pounds (about five years ago), and working out regularly in order to be healthier and be around for us longer, and to set a better example for the kids;

- Managing the finances and saving and investing to make sure we get a decent retirement no matter what Congress does, while still getting to enjoy nice things now;

- Rubbing my feet at night while we watch TV;

- Cooking me a delicious dinner every Saturday night after the kids go to bed;

- Washing my car;

- Making me laugh, which is what won me over in the first place

These are a few things that come to mind, and I'm sure I'm forgetting a lot.  I would pick any one of the items in this list over a bouquet of roses or dinner out and a movie.  I know I'm a lucky woman to be married to a man who is so good to me.

So, happy Valentine's Day, honey!  I didn't get you anything either.;)

Delaney says

On the way home from school Friday, Delaney said to me, "Today at school we made these poles that the Native Americans had.. that have people on them.."

"Totem poles?" I asked.

"Yes!" she said.  "And I put Alexa on mine but not you."

"Huh?"

"We were only allowed to put five people on them, and I really wanted to put Alexa on mine.."

"Alright, let me get this straight -- you put yourself, Daddy, Alexa,.."

"..And Timmy and Annie, and I wanted to put you on it too, but I really wanted Alexa."

"So I'm not even the 'low man on the totem pole.' I'm not even on the totem pole, but Alexa is?!"

"I know, but I really wanted her on it because she's my favorite cousin.. (blah, blah, blah)..  and we've seen each other pee."

"Well, that really forges a bond!"  Not like me giving birth to you, that's meaningless.

I'll tell you what..

Fun times

Just when I thought the stomach bugs had already made their rounds and were gone for good, we were hit with a real doozy.  When all was silent a couple nights ago, I sprang from my bed at the sound of retching.  A long night and an even longer day followed.

The stricken child had complained at bedtime about her stomach hurting, so just in case I had left a bucket by the side of her bed and told her, "It's right here if you need it."  But when she had been shaken from her slumber by the heaves, her only thought in her distress had been to come find us.  But first she got her bed pretty thoroughly.  Then her bedroom carpet.  Then she stumbled through our door and and got a good swath of our carpet too.  At that point I helped her to the toilet but by then she was just about done.

Tim immediately attempted to rinse off the bedding and then he threw it in the washer (what, Tim was home when a kid was sick?!).  Her comforter was a complete loss, but that was okay with me since I'd been looking forward to getting rid of both of those comforters anyway.  This just made it easier.  In the meantime she's got a nice old quilt of my grandma's to use.  She got sick a few more times that night and by morning seemed completely better, albeit without much of an appetite.  I kept her home from school anyway, and we spent the entire day home.  I spent most of it de-pukifying the bedrooms and doing laundry while she and Timmy happily watched TV.

The carpets were the thing that stressed me out most.  This is base housing carpet so it's already not a picnic to begin with.  It was stained and worn everywhere on the day we moved in.  Even freshly vacuumed, it looks awful.  I've never been able to clean anything out of these carpets using any method.  But I was pretty sure this was the worst thing that's ever happened to them.

I remembered an article a friend of mine had shared on Facebook a few years ago when I had been desperate for help.  I  recalled that I had had some success with these instructions on how to get vomit out of carpet, and I had pinned it on Pinterest.  So I opened it up, read it, and got to work following all the steps.  It is very entertaining reading by the way, but it has some gross (and funny) illustrations too.  Maybe don't look at it unless you really need it and at that point you've already seen worse.

At some point in the process, I read that I should "blot" or "dab" at something, and after a few futile-feeling attempts I said to myself, 'When have I ever successfully blotted or dabbed anything out of anything?'  And I know this was not advisable but at that moment I started to scrub like my life depended on it and I had nothing to lose.  Blotting is for sissies!

I am so happy to say that the barfed-on carpets are now no worse than they were before, and after vacuuming up the baking soda clumps I will be done.  Yesterday I said to the culprit, "I beg you, please don't ever come find us to tell us you are throwing up while you are still throwing up!"  Use the bucket I give you, or better yet get to a toilet, and then I will come find you, I promise, and I'll hold your hair back like a good mother should.  But please don't ever make me have to spend all morning cleaning carpets again!

Then after we picked up the other child from school that afternoon, I said to all three of them, "Now you've each had a turn and we are done!"  We'll see how well they listen to me.  They're lucky they're cute.