Rain Garden

Snapshot

2012-01-27T15:38:00.006-06:00

Diego lost his second tooth today. Lower-right. He abides by the "no pull" policy and so it had been hanging on by a hair's-width for the past week or so. It came out as he was pushing it with his tongue while listening to our audiobook right after lunch. (Wolf tales from 'round the world.) He was so good-naturedly pleased about it. What a fella. ♥

Truen took care of his many babies with tender loving care this week. Lamby, Baby Lamby, and the little pink pig whose name I've forgotten. Baby Lamby is one of those stuffed animal/blankie combo doodies. He devotedly (and delightedly) changed her diaper for two days straight, even bringing it to the library to show our friend Alice. Changing the diaper consisted of folding each side in, then folding the bottom to the top. "I'm changing Baby Lamby's diaper!" he said every. single. time. and would then tenderly pick her up and hold her to his chest. It was enough to make any mama's heart melt.

Schtinky AKA Jamie is climbing on anything and everything. The places I've found him! Enough to make any mama's eyes bulge. The tea party table, the couch, the living room loveseat, the sunroom loveseat, the bedside table, little chairs, the chest we are using as a barricade from the plant-filled bay window, and the worst, climbing up an extra tall stool (the spare we keep for guests) and onto the top of the antique drop-front desk we keep in the kitchen. Taller than the table! Yes, it is as bad as it sounds. I was in the living room and heard rumpstering but had no idea of the danger until I walked into the room. The stool is usually against the wall with its little steps stored away, but someone had gotten it out (very unusual) and left it out (not very unusual). He looked so proud, too, with his little 6-toothed grin. UGH.

Grilled cheese anything

2012-01-24T16:00:00.009-06:00

I've been on a loveboat with grilled cheese since last summer. Grilled cheese with sliced red onions, melty and sweet. Tuna melts w/ cheddar cheese and sliced red onions. Sliced. red. onions. Meh tum's a'rumblin'.

I amped up the arsenal a bit this weekend. Chicken melts. I had plenty of chicken left over from stock-making, something I usually use to make meaty quesadillas or boring cold sandwiches with cheese and mustard and jam. But we didn't have any corn tortillas and I wanted something warm, so as I stared at the refrigerator in contemplation, I wondered, "Why not a chicken melt...?"

So a chicken melt it was. With sliced red onions. And sweet "refrigerator" pickles on the side. Yo. Delicious.

I've also honed in on the secret to the perfect melt. Make sure that most of the cheese goes on first, then the meat and onions, then a few more slices of cheese. The meat won't flop out as you flip it, the cheese won't get too hot and glop out the sides, and the onions will be sweet and soft. De-wish-shuss.

An excellent introduction

2012-01-19T17:23:00.010-06:00

I always had a "whole foods gut instinct" in my youth. While it may have not added up to much more than instinct, I knew that anything labeled "low-fat" didn't taste good and furthermore, it probably wasn't good for you anyway. I cut out red meat, not because I didn't like the taste, but because I was afraid of it with the Mad Cow scare or getting sick if I didn't cook it long enough. It was frightening. And bewildering.

Then I started reading about Real Food. My knowledge expanded and I started reading about industrial agriculture and the idea of locally-sourced foods. That is when I stumbled across the philosophy of eating that gave shape and form to my previously nebulous "whole foods gut instinct".

The answer? Traditional Foods. The cookbook Nourishing Traditions* is what kicked it off. I joined Traditional Foods yahoo groups. I was introduced to the Weston A. Price Foundation.

Through all this, I realized that I could eat grass-fed meat and wouldn't face the dangers of conventionally raised agri-biz beef (and that the animals would live and die humanely). I found a source for raw milk and started experimenting with the wide variety of options it affords, from the many uses for sour milk to butter-making (and the near-distant voyage into cheese-making). I finally understood why I was always so desperately hungry after boxed cereal for breakfast. I realized that amping up a meal with quality fats left me satiated. I reveled in butter-slathered vegetables. I started fermenting.

Then I cleared my then three year old's dry, red cheeks with a daily dose of cod liver oil. I transformed my then four year old's poop, which had always been akin to "frothy slop" into "well-formed stool" by limiting (not eliminating) grains and upping fermented foods. I healed my own cavity (the first ever, btw) by taking butter oil and fermented cod liver oil, limiting grains and natural sugars, upping vegetables and fats, and eating grass-fed meat. These are all things I always meant to blog about but never did, mostly due to the simple march of time (whoopsies, sorry . . . because they are truly amazing stories).

As a philosophy of eating, the idea of Traditional Foods -- AKA eating as our ancestors ate, AKA if your great-grandma wouldn't recognize it as food, don't eat it -- well, it has been a major revelation in my life. And so, dear reader: I offer up this beautiful 20-minute introduction to Traditional Foods through the research of Weston A. Price. If you have time, please watch it. You may find it very interesting.

*Interestingly, I don't care for a good chunk of the recipes this cookbook offers. I generally find them to be either overly bland or too heavy. But the principles and dietary information? Pure gold. And some of the recipes are very good.

Notes on potty training

2012-01-16T16:59:00.001-06:00

I was just watching past vids from my archives this afternoon and was chagrined to notice Truen, at age 2, wearing a pair of 6-12 month pants that Jamie, at 12 months, has already outgrown. I couldn't squeeze Schtinky into them if I tried. But there was my sweet curly-haired Truen waltzing around in them at two years old. Wow.

And here are the brudders now --

Truen was "taking care" of Jamie, feeding him raisins

I've been putting Jamie on the potty every morning for the past month or so. He pees in the potty chair virtually every time and has pooped in it on three instances. I sit him down, make a whistling noise interspersed with talk about potty, then celebrate every time he pees. Then he stands up, looks at it and claps, saying, "yayyyyyy" . . . it is the cutest thing.

When potty training Diego years ago, I noticed that he always had a "big potty" right off the bat in the morning and capitalized on that while training. Same with Truby. And now with Jamie, I'm starting even earlier. Why not? The sooner he's trained, the sooner I'm done with diapers. Even if it is just the morning potty right now, that is one less diaper (and less urine drenched into his woolen night diaper cover). More importantly, he is getting used to his functions.

Just the other night I noticed that he was acting like he was going to sit on the potty. Sensing that he needed to go, I checked his diaper, felt that it was dry, then sat him down. He didn't want to sit, squealed a bit, then got up and ran around all nakey. But guess what? He did have to go, because he peed all over the floor just as I was getting his night diaper. Heh. But the synapses are connecting. I saw it.

Schtinky gets to see the potty chair in regular use even though Truen is four years old. Diego used it until he was four-ish as well. This is due to the fact that our toilet is virtually a high tower. Our home still has many wheelchair accessible features due to the lady who lived here 15-20 years ago, including the tallest toilet in the world. It is on this winter's "to do" list to finalllllllly replace it.

Pickl-It: the perfect counter-top fermenting system

2012-01-10T19:17:00.012-06:00

Half-gallon jars of sauerkraut

Does everyone know that I am crazy about fermented foods? I am. Crazy about them.

All the fancy holiday meals that we ate growing up included cut-glass dishes of pickles and olives; what a treat it was to bite into something cool and tart and crunchy with a rich meal. I remember it well. Over the years I've come to understand that my palate has always veered towards savory tang vs. sweet. (My parents have told me that I ate tomatoes as a little tyke. Tomatoes!) I go ga-ga for sour dishes. They are just so yummy.

Now . . . . add that to my whole foods gut-instinct, then stir in my recent grounding in traditional foods (approx. 5-6 years of study and assimilation), and voila! the path to fermented foods. I am crazy-in-love.

Sure, everyone has heard of yogurt. Or buttermilk. Or sour cream. All of which are fermented. Many tart side-dishes that we are so familiar with, like the classic dill pickle, were once fermented (vs. the current use of vinegar to preserve and give that sour taste).

But what about pickled beets? Sauerkraut! Pickled peppers, kimchi, gingered carrots, salsa, fermented bean paste, bread and butter pickles, pickled pearl onions. And so on.

These delectable dishes are created by allowing chopped (or shredded) vegetables to sit at room temp in a brine of salt and water, or their own juices, in anaerobic conditions for several days. Instead of decomposing, they start to sour. They are preserved by the combination of salt and the lactic acid created by anaerobic conditions. Once the initial ferment is over, they can be feasted upon immediately or moved to cold storage to age and develop a bit more flavor, i.e. the refrigerator, cold basement, or root cellar.

I have been fermenting for a few years now, with guidance from Nourishing Traditions and Wild Fermentation. I also participate in two Traditional Foods yahoo groups, which provide discussion and camaraderie for the "trad foodies".

Through connection to these groups, I have found the perfect counter-top fermenting system. Forget about crocks. Don't waste your time with canning jars that overflow and corrode. Use a Pickl-It. A Pickl-It! These fermenting jars are so unbelievably worth the investment. I cannot believe how wonderful they are. The ease! The intrigue! The consistent results! Production has definitely picked up.

And so . . . with no further ado . . .

May I please introduce you to the Pickl-It --

Initial ferment in the Pickl-It

Beautiful beets, both red and golden

It truly is the perfect fermenting system for the modern kitchen. Why?

Small batches keep things in regular rotation.
Small batches allow for greater variety.
The airlock ensures perfectly anaerobic conditions.
You can see the fruit of your labor as it ferments.
It comes with a plug for the bung, allowing for easy storage after the initial ferment.
No decanting is required, unless desired. Simply plug and store.
Its small size allows for easy storage in a variety of locations.

I cannot gush enough! These vessels are AMAZING. A true delight. They work beautifully for both the fermenting enthusiast and the serious home preserver. With two large gardens, I decided on the largest bundle and kept the jars in regular rotation this past summer, amassing a collection somewhere in the range of 30 quarts (around 7 gallons) of sauerkraut, 12 quarts salsa, 3 quarts pickled onions, 4 quarts pickled peppers, 3 quarts pickled beets, and 4 quarts bread and butter pickles.

As you can tell, sauerkraut is my favorite. L-l-l-l-l-l-ove it.

With that much output, it is necessary that I decant after the initial ferment. And because I have a fully-functional root cellar, we have plenty of storage space (awesome). I decant into either quart or half-gallon canning jars, using new lids, and then transfer to cold storage. No heat processing, as that would destroy the beneficial bacteria for your gut. I've found this to be an effective strategy, and a good number of the jars seem to have even sealed, enough to keep air out and create a tight-fitting lid that does not "boing" when pressed.

Seriously? Awesome.

My lil' guys

2012-01-06T20:39:00.006-06:00

The brudders were weighed this week --

Diego, age six: 58 lbs
Truen, age four: 32 lbs
Jamie, age one: 25 lbs

Diego, at age one: lost to time and space

Diego, at age four: 41 lbs

Truen, at age one: 21 lbs
Truen, at age three: 24 lbs :)

And I just noticed . . . Diego weighs one pound more than the other two put together. Heh.

Happy First Birthday Schtinks

2012-01-04T22:06:00.006-06:00

Schtinky! and Voosy-voo!

How on earth has a year passed??

::: Jamie's birth story :::

Yes, he was on TOP of the play table

and he climbed up there all by his little self.

See his giant feet...?

I can't squeeze those suckers into ANYTHING.

1/5 update: This guy weighs 25 lbs

What a lunk.

Shifting

2012-01-02T19:10:00.006-06:00

So, yes . . . I am tinkering with the look of my blog. I've been contemplating doing it for awhile, but never had much in the way of time or inspiration. The blip-bloop green top had been my template since I started my blog 6 years ago, but finally, this weekend, I decided that it was time. Time for change.

Tinkering commenced after I started thinking about my blog title, Rain Garden. I chose that name when I finally decided to start my own after enjoying others' blogs so much. We were still in Minneapolis at the time and interested in actual rain gardens for the urban landscape. I thought it was clever enough of a title and always envisioned "percolating" as my blog description. Ha. Ha. Like . . . I'm thinking about all this various runoff in the form of information and ideas, absorbing and sorting through it, and there you have it: me.

But, meh. I never did get too fancy. And I don't intend this blog as a public forum or showcasing myself. I cherish it as a way to sort through ideas and life, to connect with people who mean a lot to me, and enjoy the process of writing and re-writing. Through time, I've realized that it is also a very important tool in helping me to remember my own history "as it was". I often look back and find that my memory is kick-started with events and emotion I might have otherwise forgotten. And I do keep a journal.

But back to the point. My blog's name. Though I do think it is pretty, I don't feel like it suites me much anymore. I've shifted a bit. I've been thinking about it and feel like I want to change it while staying within the "garden" theme. It seems to run in the family: Rock Garden, my SIL, and Fire Garden, my dad.

The pictures I've chosen as part of my new "look" are significant to me for several reasons.

Diego took them.
This owl belonged to Blaine's great-grandma, Mammy.
I love the clouds and the sun and blue sky.
The boys in the background in the first one make me happy.
It gives a fuzzy representation of our rural surroundings.

This cute little guy sits atop our water meter. I screwed it into the wooden post when we first moved here, always a little unsure what to do with it before that, but never wanting to part with it because of its charm and that it was Mammy's (and I think I might have a thing for owls).

Living rurally, it is our responsibility to check the water meter every month. In the city we got our water bill in the mail, but not with "rural water". We do everything, from remembering to check the meter to filling out the coupon and mailing in the bill. It definitely took a little getting used to at first.

But I remember that first month, in the dead of summer, checking the water meter. It was mid-afternoon. I was pregnant and two year old Diego was napping. Walking to the meter was almost surreal in the thought that I had essentially just walked to the end of our Minneapolis block, and I wasn't even halfway up our driveway. Or another time near the beginning, when I was in the quonset (the curved building in the background of the first picture) and realized, "Our entire house and yard could fit inside this building." Literally.

It is interesting how things change.

How about the name "Prairie Garden"?

List-posts are easier too

2011-12-30T17:21:00.003-06:00

I realized last week that I really don't like oatmeal, even Eggy Oatmeal, unless it is well-slathered with coconut oil, applesauce, yogurt, and walnuts down to the very last spoonful. Otherwise, gag me . . . I just can't hack it.
I have recently mastered Vegetable Beef soup. What a delight! I will have to post the recipe soon.
There is no snow - none a'tall - on the ground in SW Minnesota on December 30, 2011. Un-un-un-un. We are having what they call a "dry winter". My past-self would have never believed it, but I am really pining for snoooooooow. I feel like it would nourish my soul to see a winter wonderland outside. But it is just brown, brown, brown everywhere.
Though this "dry winter" does make moving around so much easier. It has been so warm that I haven't had to fuss with boots, hats, mittens, scarves, snowpants, etc.
I have started noticing the tunnel-vision that comes with having more children and older, more active kids. I hardly have the time or energy to focus on anything outside my own little sphere. It is the strangest thing, something I'm not quite used to yet.
Things like . . . as an extrovert, for the very first time in my life, I am starting to cringe when we need to go somewhere, especially if there will be a large group of people in attendance. It is so different from my usual mode of operation. I've never even had inklings of this in the past. Ever.
It is so foreign . . . but staying home is just so much easier. Calmer. Safer. Less aggravating.
I've been thinking a lot about these changes recently. I feel like I'm just starting to grasp an understanding of WHY. I wrote above "as an extrovert", i.e. one who draws energy from others. I am an extrovert. Historically, I get my energy from interacting with others vs. my own self. But that's just it. I am with my children all day, all night, every single day. Of course I love them. But I expend a lot of energy meeting their needs and interacting with them. And things seem to get wilder the more of 'em there are (how did my mother-of-five ever do it??).
So as time goes on, I've found that I need down-time. Time to sit and think and stare. I need it. Not just "it's nice", but I absolutely, positively NEED down-time to contemplate life and re-connect with myself. I feel unkept and ragged without it.
Strange (and yet so obvious).
Interestingly, with this realization I have been cultivating a deeper sense of comprehension and respect for Blaine. (Time alone is something that is vital to his soul. Going places with gaggles of people isn't his idea of fun. He loves to be hunkered down at home. Etc.)
We've been together for 15 years now (married 11 of them) and I am still digging down to deeper layers of understanding. It feels good.
Speaking of Blaine, he had M-Th off this week. We've had a lovely "stay-cation", what feels like the first real leisure we've had since last spring (which may simply be just a state of mind, because we did have a 4-day weekend over Thanksgiving . . . but it wasn't relaxing at all).
We've stayed home every. single. day. (big suprise) and have done nothing but basic household maintenance and hanging out together as a unit. It feels so. good.
We missed him today, but we have another 3-day weekend starting now (he just got home). And that feels very nice as well.
10-4, roger that, over and out.

'Twas a very merry brown Christmas

2011-12-27T20:24:00.000-06:00

50-ish degrees on Christmas Day

In Minnesota, mind you --

U.G.L.Y.

Yessssssssss

2011-12-22T17:08:00.010-06:00

I am so very pleased. I just wrote a rockin' LTE rough draft, representing the Library Board and Friends of the Library here in our little town. We are close . . . so close . . . to actually breaking ground and expanding at our current location.

We have been two years in process, working and working and working towards a larger space. There have been city council, library board, joint committee, and public meetings galore to work through all the minutiae of such a big step for a little town. It has been very exciting at times. And a little tedious.

However . . . we have one last hurdle coming in a few weeks, a public forum to give space to the naysayers (though honestly, they've had two years' worth of meetings to have spoken). But no matter. We will come through in a blaze of glory, I have no doubt.

All the facts and numbers and emotion is weighted on our side. It just a matter of holding ground, giving a well-researched presentation and rebuttal to any pooh-pooh. My specialty. I should also note that our town has been gifted a new librarian whose organizational skills and professional experience has catapulted our library onto an entirely new level. She absolutely rulz.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel....

Rock.

Food preservation notes

2011-12-20T12:21:00.002-06:00

METHODS:

ROOT CELLAR (cool & moist): potatoes, carrots, apples, beets (if we had any left...heh), and storage for ferments, canned goods, wine
CANNING: applesauce, some salsa, tomato sauce, jams
FERMENTATION: sauerkraut, pickled onions, pickled beets, ginger carrots, salsa, pickled peppers, kimchi, "refrigerator" pickles
DEHYDRATOR: green beans, zucchini, plum tomatoes, celery, strawberries, watermelon (kind of like candy chews), peas, corn
FREEZER: kale, collards, cooked pumpkin, broccoli, spinach, chard
UPSTAIRS (cool & dry): squash, pumpkin, onions, garlic

EQUIPMENT:

9-try Excalibur dehydrator
Pickl-It fermenting jars (two 3-liters, three 1.5 liters)
Half-gallon jars for decanted kraut and/or other ferments
Water-bath canner, jars of various sizes, lids
Lots of shelving in the root cellar and unheated upstairs room

RECOMMENDED READING:

Root Cellaring: Natural Cold Storage of Fruits & Vegetables - Mike & Nancy Bubel
Food Drying: How to Dehydrate, Store and Use Vegetables, Fruits and Herbs - Phyllis Hobson
Well-Preserved: Recipes and Techniques for Putting Up Small Batches of Seasonal Foods - Eugenia Bone
Put 'em Up!: A Comprehensive Home Preserving Guide for the Creative Cook, from Drying and Freezing to Canning and Pickling - Sheri Brooks Vinton
The Lost Art of Real Cooking: Rediscovering the Pleasures of Traditional Food One Recipe at a Time - Ken Albala and Rosanna Nafziger
Preserving Food Without Freezing or Canning: Traditional Techniques Using Salt, Oil, Sugar, Alcohol, Vinegar, Drying, Cold Storage, and Lactic Fermentation - The Gardners and Farmers of Terre Vivante
Wild Fermentation: The Flavor, Nutrition, and Craft of Live-Culture Foods - Sandor Ellix Katz

Root Cellar 2011

2011-12-12T15:43:00.003-06:00

From top to bottom:

Blaine's homemade wine

Pickled onions, tomato aspic, grape jam, salsa verde, apple sauce, tomato sauce

Kimchi, pickled peppers, cantaloupe pickles, fermented salsa

Tomato remnants, fermented sweet pickles, sauerkraut

Apples (in box on floor)

Glamour shots:

Pickled onions, tomato aspic, grape jam

More glamour!

Blaine's gorgeous wines

We also have a good number of boxes filled with carrots and potatoes, but that isn't quite as beautiful. Additionally, our apple harvest was pretty small this year; otherwise we would have had more storage boxes filled to the brim. Onions, garlic, and squash are all upstairs in cool, dry conditions. Dehydrated green beans, zucchini, plum tomatoes, celery, and herbs are in kitchen cupboards for easy access.

Looking at these pictures, I am amazed at how different it looks from years' past. I didn't even post a picture last year, because it was so pitiful. I remember being embarrassed by it! Both our tomato and apple crops were a blow-out in 2010, which lessened the output. I didn't ferment as much (more on that in the future). I was pregnant, but that doesn't seem like it should stop my production. And I don't think I was able to get my hands on as many grapes.

But I digress...

Here is 2009 for comparison.

Jamie's baby-signing skillz

2011-12-06T18:12:00.002-06:00

As reported yesterday, Baby Jamie has started signing.

Our family's baby-signing repertoire is pretty simple. We have kept it to the basics: "eat", "milk", "more", "all done", "help", and have also added our own versions of "hot", "sharp", and "snuggle".

"Hot" is an outward-facing palm of the hand moving back and forth, frontwards and backwards. "Sharp" is the pointer finger of one hand poking into the palm of the other. This sign is my personal favorite, as Diego made it up when he was just a little guy in response to a pokey-sharp cactus. It made perfect sense and so we went with it. "Snuggle" has simply been a palm to the cheek, mostly me asking Schtinks if he wants "milk" and "snuggle".

Just last Friday, Schtinky signed "hot", "sharp" and "milk" consecutively, in perfect form no less, in under one minute. It is like the synapses connected and the signs suddenly gushed forth. Up until that point, he signed "more" and "all done" correctly and in context, and did his own version of "milk" (I knew what he meant).

Since then I've had little mini-conversations with him about either the hot stove or a sharp cactus. I will bring it up asking, "Remember when we went down to the basement and Dada lit the fire?", to which he will respond with the sign and saying (in a whisper), "Haaaaahhh, haaaaahhh". Or "remember that sharp cactus? Ouch!" and he'll sign "sharp" with the fattest little finger and sometime even sound like he saying, "aaaaawp, aaaaaawp". (Again, in a whisper.) And sometimes he brings it up all by himself. Adorable.

Studying his big brudders in action.

Just look at those fat toes, like little peeps.

And that little pinky finger!

♥♥♥

It has been so fun to see some of the inner-workings of his mind. I love seeing him sign "hot" and hearing the little whispering "haaaaaahhhh" when we walk by the basement wood-burner or I turn the stove-top on. It is exciting! And precious.

And . . . he's also started giving slobbery kisses. It is all the rage in these parts.

Now, dinner.

JSS: Haaaaaaaaaht

2011-12-05T13:08:00.003-06:00

Long time, no post.

I just popped in here to record an adorable and amazing event.

We have a gas stovetop. I just turned on the burner to start heating up our soup for lunch and lil' Jamie in the baby backpack started saying, "Haaaahhhh, haaaaahhhh" and making our sign for "hot" with his fat little hand. Un-un-un-un.

I sometimes forget he's there and BOOM, there he was, signing and saying hot, noticing all the little things around him.

11 months yesterday.
How did that happen?

Stuck in my head on repeat

2011-11-29T13:34:00.001-06:00

i

Why Does the Sun Shine?
I just love TMBG. Seriously. Adore.

And looking for the vid of it led me to this version, the original. I am smitten by it's charm! I'm totally looking for that at the library.

Four year olds say the funniest things

2011-11-27T12:45:00.006-06:00

"Hmmmm . . . I think we need to go to Maliformia."

--- TJPS, looking at a scrap of fabric that he is using as a "map" during some heavy-duty concentrated play with Diego this afternoon.

****

"Me and Diego have a TON of grandmas and grandpas!"

--- Truen, on the phone with his Grandma O. this past week.

****

"I don't want to call him Stinky anymore . . . I just want to call him Babezilla."

--- Truby, in all earnesty, last week.

****

"Mama, did we butcher Thunderheart...? That is a chicken I used to love."

--- Truby, checking in about Thunderbird, his favorite hen (though he mixed the name up with a mama-bear in an audio book that we recently listened to). We didn't butcher her, we sold her, which comforted him.

****

"I was outside sniffing the air and it smelled nice and wonderful!"

-- TJPS, on a crisp October morning.

****

"Take this away... I is full and the bugs is not!"

--- TJPS, refusing to finish a donut his Daddy brought home for him.

Blowing out the candles on his 4th birthday,
Wearing his favorite "bowling shirt".

Dada: "Yuck! These aren't sweet enough. What a disappointment. Here." (Hands a Charantis melon to Truen, who is notorious for feasting on half-ripe melons of all kinds.)

Truen: "This is your fruit, so it is your problem to eat it."

****

Truen: "My poop is yellow sometimes when my tummy hurts."

Diego: "My poop is black!"

Truen: "It's camouflage poop!"

****

"My name is Truen Pun'kin Julie!"

--- You know who, this summer.

****

It's been awhile

2011-11-20T21:09:00.018-06:00

Oy. Time flies. Especially with my three bouncing boys.

Since my last post, Schtinky has started walking with purpose and intention. He is now using it as his main mode of transportation. Wow. Amazing. Especially since I feel like he should still be a sleepy newborn; but instead is he catapulting towards toddlerhood, and fast.

He's so cute, like a little drunk Franken-baby. He can pivot in mid-stride and just this week he walked right over the vacuum hose without missing a beat. Un-un-un-un. He is obsessed with the stairs, climbing in general, and stray banana peels.

Meanwhile, Diego is obsessed with dalmatian dogs, specifically Pongo and Purdy and all the pups of Disney's 101 Dalmatians. He is also pining for fish. Fish, fish, fish! "Alice, I like fish," he has said to the lady at the front desk at our library. His two goldfish are not enough, he wants more. His two goldfish, incidentally, were named by Truen and are called Orangey and Goldy.

Truen is intrigued by our dwarf orange and lime trees, snow and winter, pollination, and his "fruit book". Sound like anyone familiar? His daddy, I wonder...? He still needs to nap every day and is officially wearing 3T now that he is four years old. I love his little chipmunk smile and the way he says "I want a snee-ack, Mama".

Blaine and I are simmering down into late fall/early winter. There isn't as much work to do, which is a blessed relief, but we've found that we both feel like we don't know what to do with ourselves.

It is a strange sensation to not feel the pressure of "what needs to be done next". Sure, there is still plenty of work to do, especially catching up on basic indoor maintenance, deep cleaning, organization and the like. But it isn't with that same pressing urgency. It is quite refreshing, though we are a little restless.

I am hoping to melt into a relaxing, snowy winter. It already feels so nice....

Mrar, then mrarweeeee!

2011-11-04T16:37:00.007-05:00

It's been a rough week. I feel like I'm still suffering burn-out from the mania of this fall. I look around and see nothing but messes and work that needs to be done and re-done on a daily basis.

Our house is a stye and my little babe sits in the backpack while I battle demon housework. And in my brain, I wonder: shouldn't I be sitting and playing with my baby? shouldn't I be enjoying that little guy? all my little guys?? But if I did . . . what would we wear? and what would we eat? and wouldn't I feel all the more upset with the piles of junk and filth everywhere?

I'm sure it is more of a feeling than anything, because we did sit in the sunroom this afternoon and played Babezilla, where the boys built towers of blocks, then unleashed the fat, sweet, baby-talking monkey-do on it. And then laughed and laughed and laughed.

Arise ye fool! Up from the quagmire!

A few LIFE NOTES --

Eating with a 10 month old is like trying to tame a cantankerous caveman. It's all hollering, pounding, and exuberant signs of "more" mixed in with clunky, fat hands shoving the food into a little slobbery mouth as fast as he can.
He's so cute, he really is. Jamie is doing all kinds of funny things these days.

He will fight his brothers for something if/when they try to take it away.
He signs "more" and "milk"
He hollers through diaper changes more often than not. And tries to get away.
He plays peek-a-boo. Really! He holds his shirt or a clean diaper up in front of his face while I say, "Where's Schtinky?" and then flops it down in his lap while I say, "Oh! there he is!" over and over again. Precious.
He likes to clap and say, "yayyyyyy", though it sounds more like, "ahhhhhhh" :)
He puckers up his lips and makes whining noises. To be cute and funny. No joke. I thought it was a fluke but he keeps on doing it and it becomes more animated by the day.
He loves his daddy. He wants to snuggle with him as soon as he gets home and often lunges for him if/when he hasn't seen him for awhile.
He is OBSESSED with the shower. It is an almost-daily tradition for the boys to shower with Blaine (I don't know how he stands it) and Schtinky has joined the ranks. He will make a bee-line for the shower when he hears it turned on and will lunge towards it if/when I am holding him in the bathroom and they are in there. Loves it. Loves. it.
He is standing by himself for several seconds at a time. !!!
He loves walking behind the little push-car and laughs happily the entire way across the living room.
He also loves his brothers, who I call his "brudders". His brudder and his udder-brudder. He gets super happy and wiggly whenever they enter on the scene.
I can always tell when he is intrigued or excited by something when he is on my hip, because he immediately starts paddling his legs and starts rocking up and down.

Diego said his alphabet 100% correct the entire way through. Yesterday. For the first time ever. He was pretty pleased with himself, as he should be. And I was very proud. ♥
We have started formal "schooling" of sorts.

I worked with Diego on his numbers this summer while the other two were sleeping, mostly because numbers seemed easier for him right off the bat. He is counting, reconizes the basic numbers, and can do simple math. I used combination of cards from a number-match game and buttons for manipulatives.
After this fall, I've realized our school year is going to run from October through May or June.
Within the last couple of months I've started getting serious about a structure for the beginnings of reading readiness. He has never shown much interest in the ABCs and I was always just kind of waiting for his interest to ignite casually. Nothing much has happened, so now that he is six, the waiting game is over.
Each week is a different letter: Aa, Bb, Cc, Dd, and so on. This week is Gg. I keep the Gg flashcards on the table on a prong-thingy so they can see the front and back. Think, "g-g-g-gate, and g-g-g-garden". Both boys are excited about the picture, though Diego is also interested in the letter itself. Over breakfast we talk about all the "g" words and ask them to point out "Big G" and "Little g". Throughout the week, I have him practice writing the letters he's learned on the chalkboard or on paper.
It is going very well, I am rather pleased.

Truen, I realize more and more with each passing season, has a very hard time with change.

This is something I don't relate to at all, but have started getting a better understanding for as I get older. Change is hard at times. But for this little guy, it is hard ALL the time.
A prime example. This morning, I put applesauce in with their oatmeal. (I actually try to mix it up all the time -- raisins, honey, maple syrup, etc., but we haven't had applesauce for while.) Truen came in, saw it, and immediately started wailing, "Wahhhhh! I didn't want applesauce in my oatmeal!" like he was traumatized.
I had him sit down, told him that while it is different than he is used to, he might just like it, so he had to try it. By the end of the meal, he was proclaiming, "Mama, I want applesauce in my oatmeal every day!" with his spoon in the air.
Uh huh. Change. It can also be good.
(We'll be working on that.)

So yes, life is good. I love my little boys, even when the going gets tough. (And the tough get going, right?)

Zee boys

2011-11-04T16:30:00.002-05:00

Diego has had a lot of fun setting up his "shop" this fall.

He organizes the vegetables so beautifully, doesn't he??

He has even "sold" several items to his Gramma --

And as you can imagine, it pleases him endlessly.

Truby is a sweater guy this fall.

He wears them almost every day . . . so cute.

He also has a rotating collection of small stuffed animals

that he totes around and lavishes affection on.

I can't remember this one's name, but

his other two favorites are "Honey" and "Berry".

Talk about meltin' a mama's heart. ♥

Oh Schtinky.

I love your fat little ankles. I love your little tippy-toes.

He was very interested in the bark of this tree.

Which reminds me.

I found a CATERPILLAR in his poop last week.

The second worst thing I've ever found in baby poop.

The worst thing ever?

A watch battery. Last month.
GAK!!!

I love the stars at night

2011-10-27T11:41:00.001-05:00

There are so many things I love about this vid, so many things.

The Pumpkin Picture

2011-10-24T16:58:00.005-05:00

Laughing at their daddy

I'm lovin' the pumpkin pictures! I want to make this an annual tradition. We did it in in 2008 and again in 2009, but when I combed the memory banks this weekend, I realized that we didn't do it last year. Why not??

And then I remembered.

Blaine carved pumpkins out of the sheer force of will (for the boys' happiness) after a day of butchering 24 chickens. The day before Halloween. The next day, as he was laying prostrate on the couch not wanting to move, I gathered my meager reserves and took the boys to their grandparents' house for some trick-or-treating. Out of sheer force of will. Hobbling the entire time on my poor pregnant legs. Then I myself spent the next couple of weeks laying on the couch, practically bedridden.

Things are much better this year.

Blaine did all the carving, following each boy's special request for the shape of the eyes, nose and mouth. Except Schtinky, who pooped out and had to nap halfway through, and got the cutest little one-toothed baby pumpkin ever.

I didn't carve because I was cutting up apples for sauce while keeping the baby as happy as I could in the backpack until he could take it no longer. (Sidenote: I canned another 8 quarts of applesauce last night and 9 pints of cantaloupe pickles.)

What I love most about this picture of the boys - aside from the yearly tradition it has become, how much the boys are growing, the fact that Truen and Jamie are of similar size, all their adorable little faces, the autumn-ish feel to it, and my fondness for the pumpkins - are Schtinky's tan lines in the fat rolls on the ankle of his right foot.

See 'em? Precious.

TJPS: Four years old

2011-10-21T15:39:00.003-05:00

♥ ♥ months old

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ years old

Autumnal collage

2011-10-18T16:47:00.002-05:00

This beautiful little collection represents one of the many things I love about my main squeeze, my only squeeze. Blaine. What a man.

He always has his eyes to the skies (though sometimes looking for aliens, ahem) and adds a bit of beauty in whatever he does. I love the flare. And who would ever get that out of the brick wall that he presents himself as? He has even said he wears his "signature plaid" (after 10 years, I believe it qualifies as just that: signature) because "it's exciting".

Love'm.

This past weekend

2011-10-17T02:01:00.002-05:00

We --

Prepped/planted garlic
Pulled in all the peppers and tomatoes

After a very early frost, followed by weeks of very warm temps, fall is coming to stay . . . Jack Frost's ETA is Tuesday night

Canned

9 quarts tomato sauce
10 quarts tomatillo salsa

Blaine also cleaned the gutters, cleaned out the chicken coop, and did the beginnings of garden clean-up. I'm finishing up the salsa/sauce right now, just waiting for it to cool in the canner a bit before setting it out on the counter. Then, to bed.

But just one more thing . . .

Can you see it...?

My first baby lost his first tooth

It fell out while eating a donut on Saturday morning. A donut, yes. Blaine brought it home from work. Diego had been fretting about the pain of having it pulled out and wanted it to "just fall out" by itself. And by golly, it did. He was very excited about it.

Afterwards he said, "Let's call people and tell them the news!" We called both grandparents (only one was home) and he gave them the play-by-play.

And while I was initially sad when we realized his tooth was loose, it was an exciting moment for all of us. My tender-hearted little guy. Losing teeth. Amazing.

Backpack Baby

2011-10-13T16:15:00.002-05:00

I honestly don't know what we would do

without this thing . . .

A vintage Gerry backpack --

I picked it up off the side of the road

during the "curbside dump" day in Big Town, SD

I thought it might "come in handy" at some point.

And HAS. IT. EVER. Holy smokes.

At the prairie preserve with Unky Erik

In front of an old shed on our place

Isn't the wood pretty??

We keep on thinking about doing

"family pictures" in front of it.

Our view to the west

Examining the East Garden with Dada after frost

Little lion hat --

Made by LSJF

Presh.

Brag-worthy

2011-10-10T11:25:00.003-05:00

We totally conquered this weekend.

We --

Butchered six chickens
Cut down a tree
Dug up, divided, and moved four bunches of raspberries
Processed 60 lbs of tomatoes --
Which became 9.5 quarts of tomato sauce, an enormous batch of tomato soup, and 6 cups of spicy tomato aspic (pectin-based vs. gelatin -- think savory tomato jelly)

We did this in two days, with two little boys and a 9 month old, just the two of us, with only an hour-and-a-half help from Blaine's parents (the tree). Un-un-un-un.

Lest our heads inflate, let us remember that the kitchen floor looks like a sandbox yet again; Mt. Saint Laundry Pile sits on the living room couch, where I'm pretty sure every article of our clothing is laying in a big wrinkly pile; and after staying up until 1:45 AM to finish the canning process, I felt like a incoherent zombie when stirred to nurse my little little babe in the night.

I'm also in fairly dire need of a shower.

But it feels very good.

And . . . at intermittent moments, my thoughts moved towards winter. That's when I hope to paint the sunroom, replace the toilet, finish Truen's baby calendar, read a little more, and have time to stare out the window (yeah right).

Another visit, this time with sibs

2011-10-07T15:37:00.011-05:00

One month later....

My cousin got married the Sunday of Labor Day Weekend.

The wedding was at Nazareth Chapel at NW College --

Gorgeous atmosphere, amazing pianist, lovely bride.

My dad, two of my brothers, and my SIL were able to make it.

Which was lovely . . . absolutely wonderful.

This was after a family brunch in Stillwater the next morning.

The St. Croix river was particularly delightful this day.

Incidentally, there had been a Bigfoot sighting

in Stillwater just the week before.

We didn't see one.

There is a co-op near the waterfront in Stillwater --

We purchased the raw materials for a picnic

and lunched (a.k.a. FEASTED) on the grass along the river.

It was so relaxing and happy, a truly beautiful time.

The green grass, sailing white cloud-puffs, a bluer-than-blue sky.

And just hangin' out. It felt so good.

Grandpa snuggled with Lil' Schtinky quite a bit.

We spent the extended weekend with my dad
and this was the last day.

Towards the end of the afternoon he held a sleeping Jamie,
'til his butt fell asleep and he got so sore and stiff
from holding the same position

that he just couldn't take it anymore.

I've done the same thing many times. ♥

Monday night we headed back to our place in the rolling prairies.

I don't have as many pictures of that time because it was
GO TIME!

in the kitchen and garden. Plus just sitting and talking.

But suffice it to say, it was a lovely visit.

This is the killer pizza that my brother and SIL made.

The one I keep talking about.
The eggplant and cherry tomato pizza.

It was so. good.

Incidentally, this picture is a good representation of the

INSANITY that the kitchen turns into in September.

Hardly a clear spot on the counter.

My long-haired brudders.

This was right as we were saying goodbye to Brent --

he took the bus back to Minneapolis that Thursday,

flying back to Colorado the day after that.

On Friday afternoon, Erik and Ash started the

long, winding trek back to Kelowna, BC, but first --

We went on a mini-hike and picnic to the prairie preserve.

Also lovely. My word for the day. Lovely.

The texture and color of the grasses is so Martha.

If that makes sense.

Fragrant Kale Potato Soup

2011-10-02T17:21:00.006-05:00

I am canning applesauce this afternoon, sealing the first two batches and cooking the second batch at this very moment. I expect approximately 12 quarts. Not too shabby. We picked apples yesterday, a pleasant task for all involved.

It is the second-poorest apple crop we've had, but the tree is still recovering from the massive prune Blaine inflicted upon it the winter of 2010. And honestly . . . we don't mind at all. The amount is "just right" for this year. The only sadness is not having extra to give away. Otherwise, we are perfectly content.

Blaine has had the baby in the backpack most of the day, with short snuggle breaks with mama and/or sleep (it is nap-time right now). The house smells lovely and the thought of applesauce on our pancakes this winter makes me smile. The sun is shining and the day is warm . . . I couldn't ask for anything nicer. As my MIL likes to say, it is a "Perfect Ten".

We have been feasting on an absolutely scrumptious soup of late. I adapted it from the Kale Potato Soup recipe in Simply in Season and added "fragrant" to the title because of all the garlic and celery. We had it for both lunch and dinner yesterday! Yo. It is that good. Tasty and filling.

FRAGRANT KALE POTATO SOUP

Part I

2 TBSP butter
2 onions
4-5 stalks celery
3-4 cloves garlic
4 large potatoes
4 cups stock

Saute onions and celery, then garlic in butter while dicing the potatoes. Once wilted, add potatoes and stock, cover partially, and cook until tender. While simmering, go to Part II and prep.

Part II

2 large bunches kale
4-5 sprigs parsley
1 cup yogurt, sour cream, or homemade cream cheese
6 cups stock
1 tsp salt
pepper to taste

De-stem kale, roll leaves and chop. Chop parsley. Add everything to the pot, then cook, partially covered, until kale is done, maybe 10 minutes. Use a stick blender to blend to a chunky (or smooth) consistency.

Serve with grated cheese and/or croutons.

In the past I've blended this soup into a puree, but I prefer it chunky. It is nice to have something to bite down on, and I especially like the chewy texture of the kale. De-wisch-shush.

I also have to note that everything in this soup was grown or produced by us, including the homemade cream cheese (though the milk came from a local farm) and the chicken stock. Butter, salt and pepper are the only items that weren't produced on the premises.

Huah! Awesome.

2011 Apple Harvest

2011-10-02T17:19:00.001-05:00

Yours?

2011-09-29T10:37:00.002-05:00

I was contemplating cookbooks while making breakfast this morning. [Four itty-bitty zucchini fried with butter, garlic and salt and four over-easy fried eggs.] A friend of mine, a former vegetarian, is looking for a new cookbook that incorporates meat-based recipes. That's what got me thinking.

I keep a regular rotation of library-borrowed cookbooks to sift through for inspiration and new ideas, which is very helpful. But I have two old standbyes that I reference on an almost-daily basis.

The first: How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman. This is my all-time, most-used favorite-favorite cookbook. I used this sucker to teach myself how to cook. It was a wedding gift from a much-loved Soc. professor in college. A paperback copy, it is water and food stained, scribbled in, and now exists in three pieces. I look at this one almost every day. If you have a piece of food or meal genre that you wonder what to do with, this book will provide 2-3 (or way more) answers. It awesome, just awesome.

The second: Simply in Season by Marybeth Lind and Cathleen Hockman-Wert. When eating from a garden or CSA share, this book is extremely helpful in assisting the brain providing various options on how to use it on a daily basis. I reference this book year-round, but it is particularly useful while the garden is putting out.

All this made me wonder . . .

What is YOUR favorite cookbook?

Please dish.

Oh no, oh yes --

2011-09-26T17:01:00.003-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, Diego was outside and romping around in the grove (trees that surround our house) while we were in the garden picking for our baby CSA. (We have two subscribers this year . . . just the right amount with a babe, working FT, and picking from our home garden.)

While he was out and about, he somehow ensnared a softball-sized mess of cockleburs in his hair. He came inside while I was trying to organize the kitchen for dinner with a baby on my back, probably around 8:00 PM. "Hold on a bit," I told him, "I can pick it out later . . . I really can't stop what I'm doing right now."

He disappeared and I forgot about it.

The next morning, I saw his head tipped at an odd angle in the sun and blanched. Hack job. "You cut your hair?!" I yelped, "I thought I told you I was going to pick it out." Gak!

"Oh yeah," he said, "I didn't do it. Dada did."

Hacked

Great. Dada did. So after a couple of weeks, I finally finished the job. I shaved his head, ladies. I did. Just this weekend. His beautiful curls, gone. Just for now, of course . . . but I do miss them. And I hardly recognize him from a distance. It feels strange to see his hair so short.

His new 'do

Check out that cow-lick!

(Truen's hair is my own personal hack job)

His hair hasn't been this short since infancy

♥ Awww, shucks ♥

I entitled this .jpg "Jellybean"

Precious and sweet are the days gone by...

Ye Olde List Post

2011-09-23T17:29:00.006-05:00

A few things I want to remember:

Jamie started "pbbbbt'ing" yesterday. The cutest. And very slobbery.
Diego and Truen have been playing a game called Mouse Town recently. They set up an entire village for imaginary mice, complete with shops and bridges to get from place to place. It takes up our entire living room, which is enormous.
The boys say "it broke to parts" or "it will fall to parts" vs. the more common description "fall apart". I love how we have our own micro-dialect going on here.
"Imn't" instead of "I'm not" is another common one. It is used like this: "I imn't going to".
Both boys also say "schickens" instead of "chickens".
I'm already missing eggplant and zucchini (both are kaput for the season).
Though honestly . . . I realized today that I don't mind. Eating seasonally makes everything twice as wonderful. It is something to look forward to, a seasonal delight that will be savored for a window of time. It's fun.
Annnnnnnd . . . life seems to be going by so fast that I haven't had time to miss things like baked apples. But we had some the night before last, and my goodness, but it was scrum-diddley. Definitely worth waiting for.
With that in mind, I absolutely, positively cannot wait for next summer's garlic scape pesto.
Or the eggplant-and-cherry tomato that my brother and SIL made for us a couple of weeks ago.
Our house has been c-c-c-c-old this past week. We haven't turned on the heat or lit a fire, but I pulled out my wool sweaters and slippers. It is chilly. We had an early frost last week and many days with virtually no sun. And even though it has been sunny the last couple of days, it hasn't been able to warm the house up. It feels colder inside than out. Thus, the slippers.
Ugh, speaking of slippers. I've noticed that if my feet are cold, my legs and hips feel it. This is new, like within the last couple of years. My body is aging, and gak . . . that is hard to take. My little guys have been running around barefoot while I'm holed up in slippers. I keep on checking their feet and checking in with them about how they are feeling and they are always warm. Say it isn't so. Things are starting to change...?
I'll be 34 in a couple of weeks.
Truen will be 4 a couple of weeks after that. He's wearing a 3T this fall, which means he is growing right on schedule (he was in 2T last winter). No prob.
Meanwhile, our gigantic almost-9 month old is wearing 12 month clothing, some of it what Truen was wearing when he was learning to walk backwards. He does still fit into the 6-9 month size, but not for long...
Jamie is 22 lbs (maybe more . . . that weight is from almost 2 months ago).
Truen is approx. 28 lbs.
Heh. :)
I'm so glad that I was able to have a little, tiny guy sandwiched between my two hulks. My wish would be for people with small babes to stop worrying -- if they are developmentally on track, growing and bright-eyed, it is foolish to spin the mental wheels of worry. Some kids are just small.
My little guy was (is) so easy to carry around and was always so darn cute because he was littler than everyone else. And carry him, I did. A lot. Petite, sweet, and just darlin'. It is also easier to pretend they are younger than they actually are when they are so little. ♥
Meanwhile . . . I dug into the storage bin for 12 month clothing yesterday and realized it is all SUMMER. Oh no! Oh yes. But of course! I never contemplated it beforehand, but Diego (who Schtinky matches for size) was a summer baby and the seasons are switched. Doh. Truby was always so tiny that the 12 month clothes fit him during the winter months, in spite of the seasonal difference.
So that means I have lots n' lots of onesies and cute little short-outfits and not much of the warm stuff. None, actually. Aside from the gifts we received this time 'round and the two outfits I snagged at the thrift store yesterday. And the 12-18 month stuff is too big.
Oh well. I have enough to make it until the remnants are thrifted. (Good thing I discovered it in September!)
All three boys are sleeping simultaneously this afternoon. A rare event and a blessing, indeed.

I wanna shuffle too

2011-09-22T09:52:00.001-05:00

I'm obsessed. Hammer pants and all.
It just looks like so. much. fun.

"Bountiful Harvest" 2011

2011-09-18T17:08:00.002-05:00

I adore tomatillos

On the vine: beautiful and intriguing

In the mouth: delicious

Garden path

Mah boys.

Mid-August Garden
It is starting to look dry at this point in the season,
and some things are going to seed.

Lemon cucumbers, a scalloped summer squash, zucchini

A Sphinx moth caterpillar!

These suckers are gigantic --

as thick as my thumb and longer than an index finger.

He was feasting on immature garden huckleberries.

He swung himself back and forth threateningly

when the boys poked at him too much.

(Cute.)

Cabbage waiting to become sauerkraut --

My favvvvvvorite.

I am crazy-in-love with eggplant this year --

Gorgeous and delicious.

My brother and SIL made an eggplant and cherry tomato pizza

while they were here last week (ugh, pictures coming) --

I drool every time I think back on it.

It was muy delicioso. Muy.

I want more!

(btw, you can go to her blog for pictures from the visit)

Tomatoes!

Black Plum, Cream Paste, Tangerine Mama,

Brandywine, Cherokee Purple, German Pink --

and Jimmy Nardello's peppers

A gorgeous Charantis melon

Such a sad story --

This year's growing season is about a month behind

and with approx. two weeks before frost,

combined with a 30 degree night this last week,

very few melons, if any, will ever mature.

This little beauty wasn't even ripe.

Every year there are

VICTORIES

and losses.

Worn out

2011-09-16T17:00:00.007-05:00

Friends, I am weary. Weary.

Both Blaine and I are nearing burn-out this season, amplified by the screeching baby on one back or the other. No, I shouldn't say that . . . he is happy most of the time (while he's on our backs), but having a baby has definitely complicated and/or added to the workload this year. Burn-out always seems to rear its ugly head in September anyway.

Our house looks like it has been hit by a cyclone. One task after another glares at me as I walk by: tomatoes, dishes, laundry, tidying, the sandbox-like kitchen floor. It seems insane, making me wonder what I do all day long. Am I really just spinning my wheels? It feels like it. Then there is the little boy who wants me to cut out paper bats for him, and the littler boy who wants me to read to him. And the even littler boy who needs to be held and cuddled just a little bit more.

I can't wait until winter. I want to be snowed in, totally unable to go outside. It sounds delicious.

But then . . . I look at my cupboards and I do realize what I am doing. I have a whole list of things to offer up as proof. I have all year to battle my housework, but a window of only a week or two to make grape jam. Grape jam that we will enjoy all winter and spring. And little boys that need to be loved on while they are still little.

Yes, it is worth it . . .

2011 Food Preservation Record

12 quarts sauerkraut
9.5 quarts fermented salsa
7 jars grape jam (3 pints, 3 jam jars)
3 quarts pickled pearl onions
3.5 quarts dried plum tomatoes
1 pint dried peas
3 quarts dried green beans
2 quarts dried celery
1.5 quarts dried zucchini
1 cup basil leaves packed in olive oil
1 cup dried dill leaves
1/4 cup dried marjoram

Huah! I am proud. And there is more coming.

Deluxe

2011-09-16T16:32:00.001-05:00

This coy look displayed by Schtinky was a limited, one-time-only, special-edition head-tilt available for purchase on one day alone: Monday, September 5th. The cost? Saying, "Jamie-Jamie-Jamie-Jamie-Jamie-Jamie" over and over and over again.

He had never done it before and hasn't done it since, but it sure was cute while it lasted. He also learned to clap that week and added high-pitched, piercing shrieks to his repertoire.

Oh, Schtinky ♥
(I mean . . . Jamie)

A quick list of why you haven't heard from me

2011-09-12T15:59:00.002-05:00

Gallivanting (to the TCs for a cousin's wedding)
Visitors (brothers and SIL)
Grapes (jam)
Tomatoes (salsa)
Cucumbers (refrigerator pickles)
Three squirrelly boys
Manhandling living quarters back into submission

Photos from my parents' visit

2011-08-29T16:54:00.005-05:00

So . . . . one month later --

My parents came for a week at the end of July --

It was a nice time with many games of
Go Fish, Old Maid, Candy Land
and general lazing about.

Jamie snoozed with Grandma that first night.

She has a "mother's touch" for sure --

No sleepy baby could stand a chance against her.

In the middle of the week we went to a beach,

for some swimming and sandy sitting.

The boys L-O-V-E-D it, as you can imagine.

Even Jamie got nakey and splashed in the water.

This is Truen pretending to be a hammerhead shark

It was sooo adorable, even more so with how small he is

Diego is above --

He hovered around these kids, staring and splashing,

Until they they all started playing together.

I love this scene --

Diego's birthday, at the park

All the colors and activity just makes me smile.

He spent his 6th birthday with both grandmas and grandpas.

Double-double baby bubbo --

With Grandma & Grandpa's shiny rental car.

Diego was writing letters in the sand at the park

Diego's birthday was a (fun) doozy.

We went to a playground, then out for lunch,

then to another park to for presents and lemon bars,

then swimming at different park because we knew they'd love it,

then out for dinner again because we were all so hungry.

This was Truen after swimming --

He just couldn't last a second longer. Totally asleep.

Our last day with Grandma & Grandpa --

I made the voyage back to the Twin Cities

to spend a couple more days with them before they had to leave.

We went to a child's indoor dream-park,

Edinburough Park in Edina, which, of course, they also loved.

I like the pell-mell feel of this picture.

Amazing

2011-08-27T20:51:00.003-05:00

August 12, 2011

:: from our driveway ::

I don't know what is more amazing, the fact that I've been meaning to post this picture since last Sunday, or the sky itself. Yuuuust kidding. Drama. But seriously. It has been on my mind for almost an entire week, but life just gets in the way.

Want to know what else is amazing? Diego playing Super Mario Brothers 3 on the Nintendo NES right now, such a familiar tune, whimpering, "Mama, can you please help me...? It's just so hard!" He can't get beyond the first fire-breathing flower-thingy.

And, really, isn't this just the most stunning skyscape? It has everything -- storm, sunset, clear blue. The layers, the depth! I could gush for hours.

One of those quiet moments

2011-08-19T11:08:00.007-05:00

There is something so luxurious about fresh garden herbs. This morning I cut basil, sweet marjoram, and parsley in the deliciously warm sunshine and felt positively glamorous. (The baby was napping and the boys were playing up near the house.)

The spicy-sweet fragrance wafting up was so intoxicating that I didn't even notice the three uninvited hens who wandered in. Shoo! Shoo! They left easily, which surprised me. I gathered my booty and sauntered up to the house, my thoughts lingering in the scent and the sun.

It felt good.

He's got skillz

2011-08-17T23:16:00.005-05:00

Little Jamie is pulling himself up on things.

Un-un-un-un, I can hardly believe it.

Today he played with the cat scratching post.

Meow, meow Schtinky-do!

(That's what I've been calling him)

SIDE-RANT:

"Kids or cats," I grumbled the other morning as I put the offending caterwauler outside at O-dark thirty. One or the other is always waking me up in the wee hours. Sometimes I feel like I just can't catch a break. When one of the usual violators [of my sleep] is zonked, someone else decides to disrupt my zzzz's with whatever-who-knows. Mrar!

And this was yesterday!

He pulled himself up into this position.

He was laughing hysterically at his brothers, and

smooshing his face into the mattress.

Based on the baby calendars, Diego didn't pull himself up into a stand until he was 9 months old. Truen was 8 months. Schtinky is 7 months. Yowza. It makes sense, but I'm still a little shocked. He has loved being upright, standing and stomping, since he was 2-3 months old.

He is also "commando" crawling, getting from point A to point B by pulling with his arms and pushing with his toes. He is getting up and rocking on his hands and knees and getting up on his hands and feet like a little bear. I am amazed. He's already mobile. !!! I plan to put up the baby gate on the stairs tomorrow.

What else?

Schtinky-do!

Little JAMIE

Loves rolling around on the bed right before bedtime, with little coos, mostly face-down and smooshing his face into the sheets
"Dances" when we whistle or sing, be-bopping by shaking his head back-and-forth
His favorite activity is holding onto my pointer fingers, standing and stomping in front of me, smiling happily
Wiggles all. the. time.
Laughs gleefully at his brothers
Does full-body lunges and head cranks to be able to see what his brothers are doing
Turns head to "Schtinky" and "Stinky" (whoops)
Gets very happy and excited to see his Dada
New thing: spreading arms akimbo with fists clenched, mostly in the highchair, face tipped upwards with a huge grin
Sometimes still tenses up when visually overloaded -- he scrunches up and gets so stiff it is like holding a doll (this was extremely common at 2-3 months . . . I couldn't even walk with him facing out or up/down the stairs)
Bites and pulls my nipple at the end of nursing when he's getting bored or frustrated (yeeeouch!)
Is getting his first tooth (the same one that Diego is losing): lower front left
L-O-V-E-S the cats
Easily rolls out of his wrap (the swaddle), even with his arms down
Wakes up at 7:00 AM like clockwork
Has started taking a long morning nap vs. long afternoon nap (new to me -- both his brothers were long afternoon nappers)
Totally has tan lines in his fat rolls
Loves to pull hair -- I swear he's going to give me bangs with how much hair he gets ahold of and breaks off
Snaps my right bra-strap and pulls Blaine's chest hair when we are holding him on our hip
Will repeat "ma-ma-ma-ma" and "da-da-da-da" (though not reliably)

11 years

2011-08-12T17:07:00.003-05:00

1999

Lexington Apartments (Blaine's place)

I've always loved this picture --

and I still have that shirt.

2004

Gooseberry Falls, Two Harbors, MN

Photo taken by LSJF

(Lyndi)

2009

Snowed in and LOVING it --

It ended up being the Four Days of Christmas.

Lovely, just lovely.

2011

Diego's 6th birthday

No longer just the Two of Us . . .

Now we are the Five of Us

It is nice to be married in 2000, because I never have to do the math. It is 11 years today (+ 4 = 15 years total, yowza). I feel happy, settled, understood.

Our relationship feels like a comfortable and colorful pair of woolen socks on a chill night under the stars. Immature fights are a thing of the past, his smile and scent is home, and we are just as intrigued by each other and the things around us as ever.

Only now it includes three bright and bellowing boys bouncing all over us.

Breeching the brain fog

2011-08-11T16:21:00.001-05:00

I am still reeling from the past three weeks which included prepping for our county fair submissions, my parents visiting, and a week in St. Paul visiting family and friends. It was a wonderful time, but now I am wallowing and feeling like I will never be able to catch up again. I hate the transition back into "real life". It makes me never want to leave the house again.

I've had 4 different obligations this week and the boys ask every morning, "Where are we going to go today?" Finally, today I was able to answer, "Nowhere!" with sweet relief. I would say that it feels so good, except for the fact that I look around and see nothing but all the work that should be done. Rubbish and mess everywhere. Not to mention the 40-some cabbages, 30+ peppers, and 46 tomato plants staring me in the face. How will I ever get it all done?

Though . . . I did grit my teeth and try to ignore the sandbox-like kitchen floor this morning while I had a tea party and several un-birthday parties with my boys, complete with "birthday presents" in festive bags or tin boxes. How could I miss out on that??

I say "birthday presents" because they were just items lying around the house wrapped up with love and innocent glee. Truen was the promoter of this party and when he opened up his "World's Best Mother" trophy and the tiny wooden-handled party knife that we use for play-dough, he was as bright and happy as if he had gotten a real gift. "Ohhhh . . . a knife!" he said with a smile. I got 2 plastic checker pieces, a Bionicles claw, and a worn-out Star Wars mini-book. My favorites. ♥

Meanwhile, the baby is waking up and I owe you a bazillion pictures.

[Written with one-and-a-half hands while nursing the babe] I've been thinking about starting a gratitude journal to record all the little happy moments in daily life. Because they are there. In spite of anything or everything else, they do exist; and I really need help trying to remember that.

(This post with quite cathartic in that sense.)

And I am so sad

2011-07-28T21:16:00.003-05:00

A first! Diego has a loose tooth. Lower-bottom-left. He is excited and interested about it. And me...? A little teary.

White Thunderhead

2011-07-26T22:48:00.001-05:00

The view from our driveway last night

Garlicious

2011-07-25T13:13:00.003-05:00

Garlic Scape Pesto has officially entered the Halls of Seasonal Delight in our household. It is absolutely scrumptious. I've been eating it slathered on buttered toast almost every morning for the past week.

So do yourself a favor, and if you ever run into garlic scapes at the co-op or your farmers' market (available in JULY only), buy a tassel and bring them home to make this. Yo. You won't regret it.

GARLIC SCAPE PESTO

1 large handful garlic scapes
1 medium handful basil leaves
1 medium handful parsley
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
1/3 cup raw sunflower seeds
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Add everything but the olive oil to a food processor and run until the ingredients are roughly blended. Then add the olive oil slowly until the desired consistency is reached. Feast or freeze, your choice.

And boy, did it hurt

2011-07-22T17:21:00.009-05:00

So . . .

I really need to update you all on Blaine's puncture wound. It is un-un-un-un.

As a sidenote, I'm starting to look at this blog as more than just a tool for connecting with long-distance family and friends -- it has simultaneously morphed into a historical log of our life. Eventually, I'll have it printed into a blog-book to look back at.

(Incidentally, I have recently been enjoying looking back to the previous year's month of late. It is so fascinating to see what we were doing and what I was thinking about. I am also amazed by all "the little things" about the boys that I have forgotten. I am so glad I have several avenues to help me remember it all -- daybook, kid calendars, kid journals, blog, picture emails.)

And so . . . Blaine's puncture wound. It is amazing, really. It happened on Saturday, July 9th. We were putting up fencing for the tomatoes from a roll that we got from our elderly neighbor (it was just sitting in her trees). Not rusty, thankfully. He cut the desired length, then we would finagle it into the already knee-high tomatoes, connect it to the fence-posts he had pounded in, and weave the tomato-tops in as gingerly as we could.

After we were done, and we have 41 tomatoes this year, btw, all started from seed, we wondered if we should put up a fence for the melons in the East Garden to grow on. There isn't much space, so it would be good to give them room to grow. Mainly, UP. We figured it was "now or never" and why not? since we were already in the groove. So it was decided. The baby woke up, I went inside to take care of him, and he went to cut another length of fence.

Not long after, I heard some major hollering from outside and saw Blaine effectively bear-walk (bear-hop might be a more apt description) up to the house as fast as he could. There was a lot of yelling and moaning from him and while I was totally unable to tell what had happened, I ran for an ice-pack pronto-pup. There was no blood and all parts appeared to be in order, but I could tell there was something was seriously wrong.

And what had happened? A spine-tingling, scalp-raising 2-inch puncture directly above his right ankle. Straight in. Two inches! With a 12-gauge wire fence-end, just clipped, so it was extra-sharp. Un-un-un-un. He had walked right into it. It was in the grass and he wasn't thinking, he just took a step and schhhhhloop, in it went. He didn't even feel it at first, and only knew that it was inside his leg when movement was impeded. He pulled his leg back and that is when it started to hurt.

We iced and elevated and did a saltwater soak. We could tell it hadn't been broken, so we decided to take our time and assess the situation vs. rush off to the ER. I consulted a Nurse-Practitioner on Duty over the phone and read about punctures in the various health books and online. We called his parents and asked that they bring over a pair of crutches and a cane from their well-stocked "for when we get old or injured" collection. That night was the worst -- it was hard to sleep and he said that it felt as if his foot had been smashed with a hammer. Yeouch.

It did swell, though not like you would imagine. It seeped some blood, but not much. He was able to walk with a cane the second day. But it was painful, very painful. He was totally side-lined. For an entire week. And strangely, after a few good days at the beginning, he had a few bad days towards the middle-end of the week, with pain and tingling. Warm comphrey soaks helped with that a lot. I also applied Dr. Christopher's Complete Tissue & Bone Ointment several times a day to aid in healing.

He went to the Foot & Ankle clinic the following Monday. They recommended a tetanus shot and a round of broad-spectrum antibiotics, which we went with. I felt apprehensive about all that, since it was for what could happen vs. what was happening . . . I couldn't help but wonder if we were contributing to the over-use of antibiotics. I'm so dramatic, I know, but I couldn't help it. Ultimately we decided it was for the best. The doctor said that with how close the puncture came to the ankle joint, it would not be worth the risk of waiting to see if an infection would develop. "An infected joint is a destroyed joint," he said, "and not worth messing with." And since we would rather work on replenishing the gut with good bacteria vs. fitting Blaine for a prosthetic foot, what other choice could we make considering the circumstances and medical access? (As you can see, I still feel uneasy about it.)

All in all, he missed an entire week of work. I am so glad he did, because he really needed that time to heal. It was almost like a vacation, aside from all the pain and worrying. He finally went back to work this past Monday and did all his usual duties, albeit more slowly.

Additionally, we thought that he had only 4 paid days off for the rest of the year before the puncture (one week off for the babe's birth, one week off due to a bout with influenza in March), so when he took 5 days off, we were a little worried. As it turns out, he received an additional week off in June (his 4 year mark!). So that time is zeroed-out and we are back with 4 days off for the rest of the year. Ha! Not that great, but certainly better than zero.

And that is the saga of the 2-inch puncture. May it never happen again.

The East Garden

2011-07-20T16:40:00.002-05:00

Gorgeous cabbage

(envision sauerkraut galore)

Yellow Wax beans and scallions

East Garden

I took this picture last Friday --

things have already grown so much!

Baby Crockett

2011-07-20T16:39:00.000-05:00

Who has the Magic? (I did last year)

2011-07-16T15:29:00.007-05:00

Magic- A Belly Grows from The Panic Room Videos on Vimeo.

I have so much to update on . . .

A (real) tornado, an unfortunate 2-inch puncture wound into Blaine's leg, and the most gorgeous garden ever are the most pressing items. The combination of these three items has kept me hopping for the last two weeks.

But since I don't have the time . . . I'm just going to post this vid instead. I think my friend Laura and SIL Ashley are going to be the most entertained by it. I love the playful celebratory nature of the whole thing.

And pregnancy...? Magical, def. Ditto on giving birth. Though giving birth might actually hold the trump card. It is awesome. It makes me feel lucky to be a woman.

Cheeeeeeese Grits

2011-07-07T17:33:00.014-05:00

In recent weeks I finished going through The Pioneer Woman Cooks by Ree Drummond. Maybe you've seen it on my reading list...? I think I mentioned it at some point, being so impressed with her hearty dishes. And as someone with a fast metabolism who also happens to be nursing, hearty-n-fillin' is right up my alley. So neccessary for happy days.

The most fabulous discovery gleaned from it was a recipe for Cheese Grits. Cheeeese, George, cheeeeeeese. It is SO GOOD. Perfect with breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Scrumptious warmed up over low heat in a cast-iron skillet. Filling. Nutrient-dense. A great accompaniment for pretty much anything. And it makes a large amount, so there are leftovers for almost a week.

That pretty much fills all my requirements, howz abouts youz?

CHEESE GRITS

9 cups water
2 cups grits (coarse-grind cornmeal)
4 (warm) eggs
12 TBSP (1.5 sticks) butter, chopped
3 cups grated cheese
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp salt

First, I soak the grits in 1.5 cups of lime water (like the cornbread I make) for 7 hours. Quoting myself from the cornbread post, soaking corn with lime is a traditional practice, one that releases the full spectrum of B-vitamins; and arguably, fuller flavor as well.

With soaking, I cut the water down to 8 cups
Let the eggs come to room temp. and/or soak in hot tap water while cooking the grits
Pre-heat the oven to 350 F
Bring the water and grits to a boil on the stovetop and simmer until done
Stir in the (warm) eggs, butter, cheese, salt, garlic, and cayenne
Pour into a well-buttered baking dish and bake for 30-35 minutes until hot and bubbly
FYI: Grits will become firmer as they cool

What led me to soaking grains...?

Again, quoting myself, . . .[from the cookbook] Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon. Truly, this cookbook has been a radical influence on my understanding of food: as nourishment vs. hunger-filler, traditional ways of preparation, vital nutritional fats, etc. It has given me a sense of direction, not to mention form and substance, to my whole foods gut instinct. (Which is, basically, "If it doesn't occur in nature, or you can't create it in your own kitchen, don't eat it.")

***

Steady Days

2011-07-05T15:50:00.006-05:00

I rarely take notes on what I'm reading, but the book I just read, Steady Days: A Journey Towards Intentional, Professional Motherhood by Jamie Martin, required it.

My notes pretty much sum up everything I've learned about the most important survival skills in mothering these six years:

Problem-solving and adaptability

Check it:

Create a steady routine
Be flexible and open
If something is not working, there is a reason -- find a solution
Adaptability -- things change, work towards keeping up with it all, which will include shifts in your plan of attack and/or solutions
Find inspirations -- !!! Yes. An inspired mother will inspire her children. (I'm happier when inspired anyway -- def.)
Analyze what isn't working
Be intentional and take a moment to decide
Life with children: constant training and teaching without always seeing an immediate result
Consider both the problem and the potential solution

The boy-ohs

2011-07-05T15:49:00.001-05:00

We use a wet rag to erease our chalkboards and realized

last Friday that we could do particularly fabulous outlines

when they press their hands and feet to the wet board.

Fun! A perfect afternoon project.

My BIL & SIL made these chalkboards

for the boys this past Christmas.

They are old metal serving (or lap) trays.

We use them a lot.

Little Stinky can't participate in the mini-art projects,

but he sure likes to EAT them. Yum, yum.

In this case, one of Diego's

toilet-paper roll Daleks went straight into the yapper.

It was there for less than 20 second, I swear it.

So thankful

2011-06-29T16:45:00.007-05:00

Jamie just started saying, "nya-nya-nya-nya" yesterday. Over and over and over again. He's obsessed. It is the cutest thing ever.

Attempting a camera-grab

I am so thankful for a happy and healthy, wonderfully fat baby. Sometimes I forget. Seeing pictures on a blog I stumbled upon this afternoon, Be "THE HANDS AND FEET", hurts my heart.

It shouldn't be like this. Anywhere. Ever.

Massive, a.k.a. "I just can't resist"

2011-06-23T09:10:00.011-05:00

I have been collecting children's books from thrift and used book stores for many years, before children were even a tangible glimmer in my mind. I picked out what attracted me -- books I knew from childhood, fairy tales, classics, beautiful/interesting illustrations, etc.

After 7-8 (or maybe 9-10) years, I have a whole lotta books. A whole lotta. Blaine quit saying, "What? More books??" years ago. I think he just gave up.

An "upstairs" bookshelf

(the behemoth)

To sum in up succinctly, we have a "sizable home library".

We have gotten many beautiful books as gifts from family and friends over the years as well (thank you so much, we love them). We also participate in Dolly Parton's Imagination Library (a program to distribute children's books in economically-depressed areas), which sends one book each month, per kid, from age 0-5. Some pretty terrific, others just kind of "meh".

So when a Friends of the Library book sale came up this spring, I started weeding through my collection. I realized quickly that I would need to go through it several times to get everything, as it was too easy to just say, "Nah!" and put something back the first couple of times 'round.

I was finally satisfied after I went through every shelf four or five times. I was ruthless and didn't let sentiment control me . . . and pulled out somewhere in the realm of 30-40 books. Not too shabby. (I did the book sale too, and some of them flew off the table. Yesssssss.)

But that got me thinking. Exactly how many books have I amassed over the years? I knew it was probably in the hundreds, but I had never actually counted. So I stewed over the idea for a few weeks, wondering, and finally got my chance to count them all out last week. It was really fun.

Another shelf in the "book nook"

Novels and novellas

But first: I should clarify the locations of bookshelves throughout the house. For the picture books, I have the blue monster upstairs and several other smaller shelves downstairs: one in the bedroom, one in the sunroom, and another (just one shelf) for the over-sized books in the living room.

Books for 9-12 readers and classic novels and novellas have two shelves upstairs and are intermixed in the rest of our books downstairs. This reading level, btw, is what I've been focusing on the past couple of years while thrifting. (Planning ahead, but I've also gotten much pickier with the picture books.)

So here are the grand totals. Un-un-un-un.

Picture books: 527
Board books: 63
Children's Lit: 159

I'm sure this will make my family and friends never want to bequeath another book upon us again, but please! don't let that stop you! We love books. We are thrilled by anything that is passed along. Some of our favorites have come from others.

But yeah. I think I might have gone over-the-top.

(But I know you know I don't actually think that.)

Skyscape

2011-06-17T17:12:00.007-05:00

The sky in this part of the country is glorious, something I finally realized last summer. (We have been here for four years next month, how can it be??)

These beautiful skies are such a sight for sore eyes and soul. In a part of the country where very little, if any, natural landscape exists, it is such a blessing to have such a breathtaking view above us. It leaves me astounded.

On Monday night, as I was returning from my Friends of the Library meeting, where I saw a double rainbow (double rainbow!) I might add, I found Squeeze outside, camera in hand, running for the west-side. How I love that about him. ♥

The sky was un-un-un-un. Truly inspiring.

June and July must be the season for tearfully happy, maddeningly gorgeous skies.

Behold ---

Facing west

Southeast

Northwest

West/Northwest

Southwest

(my favorite)

Southwest

Newborn blankie shots

2011-06-15T19:03:00.004-05:00

I've been meaning to do this post since January . . . oh well, better late than never.

Look at all my sweet babes! My MIL makes a special quilt-blankie for each of her grandchildren -- they are so special, I really love them. Neither of the boys have chosen it as their "special" blankie (for which I am thankful, because it would be in tatters by the time they turned 10) but we keep them around and use them frequently.

Lately I've been laying them across our gigantic queen-and-double patchwork family bed. Or we use them as the play-area during an exciting game of Go Fish. Or they snuggle down into them while we sit around and chat on weekend mornings.

Diego Kinder Dune

July 2005

Truen Jules Pumpkin

October 2007

Jamie Sterling

January 2011

Diego got the colorful FISH, Truen, the LION in autumn hues, and Jamie's is the sweetest little brown GIRAFFE. (I'll have to post pictures of that later.)

Gramma S. didn't have Jamie's blankie done by his birth day (the usual), because she was waiting to find out if he would be a boy or a girl. She said that she was "going to really pull out all the stops" and make it the most ridiculously girly blankie she has ever done had he been female.

But, you know. The Borealis men only shoot out little boys. One girl per generation for the last four generations, and we already have our girl (Borealis cousin) this time around.

Not that I don't love my boys.

After seeing a few of 'em, I've come to the conclusion that we have one boy that looks like Blaine (Diego) and two boys that look like me (Truen and Jamie). They certainly look like brothers, but Blaine got trounced in the gene dept. Kind of sad, since I'm so ugly. Ha! Kidding.

Aren't my little darlings just darlin'?

The Boy-ohs

2011-06-10T17:35:00.007-05:00

Wow, three posts in one week. That used to be the regular goal. Now . . . it seems excessive.

All three of my boys are sleeping at the same time. I suppose it probably happens about once a week, and you can imagine how I just revel in it. It feels so good. I mostly want to just sit and stare.

But I think I'll write an "update" on each of the boys. I bet my parents and sibs would like that. Shoot, I will too.

DIEGO:
Age almost-6
(July 30th)

Re-obsessed with butterflies this summer.
Love playing with and holding his baby brother.
Never wants to take a bath alone, or much of anything else really -- he loves people and wants to be around them pretty much all the time.
Though he does regularly become absorbed in picture books and Blaine's old comics for extended lengths of time.
Loves to snuggle.
Still loves to "touch my neck".
Invites Truen to play by saying, "My guys are about to land and blow up your spaceship!" and anything else along that line.
LOVES trying to make Blaine laugh -- I often watch him eyeing his daddy while pulling out the old one-liners (or whatever funny quip) to try and get a chuckle.
Has recently started HATING to see people kiss. Whether his parents or people in a movie, he is repulsed and will avert his eyes while yelling, "Nooooooo!" (LOL, he also said he "doesn't like" Uncle Erik because he kisses Ashley. Riiiiiiiight.)
He also told me yesterday that when he gets bigger and has a girlfriend, he's not going to kiss her. Riiiiiiiiight.
Is embarrassed by his new hair-cut.
Is very obedient and helpful.
Tends to get too wild (his main downfall, sound familiar anyone...?)
Still says, "schickens" vs. "chickens"
Has resurrected my favorite nickname of all time, "Truen HisBees".
Frequently calls Blaine "Da" and in the past has called me "Shaw".
Regularly pats me to show his affection (and as a reassurance of his love if/when he's upset).
Favorite color: blue

TRUEN:
Age 3

Told the Story Hour reading volunteer this week that "the only thing I know how to make is scrambled eggs" when she asked the group if they liked helping in the kitchen.
He does love to help in the kitchen and makes the scrambled eggs (almost) by himself.
Frequently shows me affection by kissing my arms.
Will ask, "Is your armpit available?" when snuggling down for bed or a nap. (He still loves touching my armpits, of all things.)
Has been saying, "I want to be alone" when feeling cranky, and frequently re-emerges cheerful and pleasant once again.
Has been saying, "I'm too tired to walk to bed" and absolutely LOVES in being carried. [Adjustment from being the baby...? Wow, I just thought of that!]
Absolutely loves being babied by his daddy. Squeeze will croon and fuss over him (Diego too) and I can tell, that kid revels in it. Not much of a snuggler, but that will tip him over the edge and get him nuzzling.
Always wants to make sure his daddy knows if/when he is hurt. Again, the "fuss-factor". Loves it.
Still wears a 2T (three-and-a-half years old). Wears clothes that Diego wore when he was two. Likewise, the baby (at 5 months) is wearing things that he wore when he was 10-11 months. He's tiny.
Has the cutest little chipmunk grin.
Loves to play with his baby brother.
Very keen on concocting "magic potions" of whatever powder/liquids he finds in the bathroom.
Calls me "Ma" (no joke!)
Adores banana chips.
Favorite color: purple

JAMIE:
Age 5 months

Very interested in our cats, loves to watch them and will reach out to touch or grab them if they come close enough.
Wiggles ALL. THE. TIME.
Pukes ALL. THE. TIME.
Loves to grab faces and suck on them.
Smells so good, like a fresh bale of hay.
Loves taking baths.
Will grab Diego's face (particularly at night, when he's tired), scream, and suck on it ferociously (latching on in that back-and-forth motion when babies are looking for a nipple). This pretty much always ends in him (the baby) getting so amped up that the happy screams turn into crying-screams. It is the weirdest thing. Diego thinks it is hilarious.
Sometimes hums himself to sleep.
Loves to be wrapped (arm-swaddle).
So soft and fat and sweet-smelling.
Nicknames "Stinky" (pronounced "Schtinky") and "Voos".
Wiggles and smiles if he even hears Blaine calling to him from a distance, gives HUGE grins when he sees him.
Thinks his name is Stinky.
Understands 6 words: milk, Dada, Brother, Toots/Bay (the cats' names), Stinky
Takes four naps a day: Two 20 minute morning naps, one 2-3 hour afternoon nap, and another 20 minute evening nap.
Nap locations vary. First morning nap: swing. Second morning nap: my arms/swing. Afternoon nap: bed. Evening nap: swing. (We keep the swing in the kitchen.)
Gives a HUGE grin as soon as he wakes up enough to look around in the morning.
Wake-up calls sound like this: "Ahhhhh . . . maahhhhhh . . . awwwwwhhh"
Loves the reverberations of humming while sucking on his fist.
His feet go *boing*, up in the air, the second his diaper is off. He loves holding his feet and sucking on his toes. (and this is actually how we have relatively-peaceful evening meals of late, by taking his diaper off so he can have easy access to his tootsies).
Sits very well by himself (with supervision).
Rolls over either way, but mostly to his left, and always starts the roll-over by grabbing his feet and laying on his side.

L M N Oooooooh

2011-06-08T08:30:00.001-05:00

L M N O by They Might Be Giants, from Here Come the ABCs, a favorite at our house these days. Highly recommended. The songs are interesting and fun vs. a drudgery. Better yet, both parents and kids enjoy it.

They Might Be Giants also do Here Come the 123s, another fave. You are all familiar, right...?

The annual hair-cut

2011-06-06T16:23:00.004-05:00

I'm not the only one in this family to get my hair cut but once a year! (A year-and-a-half this last time around, but who's counting?)

Diego's curls make it so easy not to cut because they look so cute. Truen, on the other hand, with his straight hair, needs a regular trim. As does Squeeze, who looks like a dandelion gone to seed when his hair gets too long.

Before

After

Look . . . a butterfly!

I've been asking Diego if he'd like his hair cut since this winter and he has continued to say no, that he likes his hair long. I finally put the kibosh this past weekend on that and insisted on cutting his hair, due to ticks (yuck-a-roo) and the coming hot weather.

He doesn't like the way it looks, but I can tell he likes the way it feels. I think it turned out pretty good. Curls are so much easier to cut than straight hair. So much easier.

Yadda Yadda Yadda

2011-06-03T16:24:00.003-05:00

I don't have much in me today, but I do want to post more often than every week-and-a-half. That just isn't enough! (But it is so hard to find the time.) Anyway, this will be a list-post because it is so much easier and I don't have to worry about cohesion.

I love prunes.
Note to self: when confiscating the obscene excess of Easter candy, don't let it sit in the bottom of your bag until it melts and congeals everything together. Throw it out in when they aren't looking, say, 1-2 days after the fact.
I got my hair cut when I was at my parents' house in Western WA. I wasn't too pleased with it at first, since it wasn't at all what I asked for, but I am learning to like it as it grows out. It was a good cut (just not what I thought I was going to get).
I'm obsessing over Indian food again. I ordered every cookbook by Madhur Jaffrey that I could find in our library system. Next step? Find the time to read them. Right.
We are going to order an entire hog from a local pig ranch in our are. (Pig ranch? Is that right?) It will be an Ossabaw hog and I am going to ask for every last bit of it. We love pork and the thought of being able to eat a heritage breed with NO ADDED CHEMICALS sounds so wonderful.
Buying whole/half/quarter animals for food (not to mention butchering chickens) always brings into consideration what being a meat-eater actually means. Moreso than buying meat at the store, I would say. I think about that hog, and think about it as a living entity, destined to die and become food for my family. That I (we) will be eating the entire hog vs. a nameless ham here or a unidentified slab of bacon there.
I really love bacon. And bacon fat. And cooking with lard. I can't wait to have my hands on some pig fat from a CLEAN hog. Up until this point, I have only had access to lard from the butcher, which is probably from a conventionally-raised hog, which are some of the most antibiotic, drug-filled "farm" animals in agribusiness. Poor things.
We've eaten lettuce, radishes, chives, and scallions out of the garden this year. That ain't much.
We had our first truly warm day yesterday. Actually, it was hot and muggy. Spring has been a long time coming and now, all of a sudden, it is summer. At least it felt like it yesterday.
I might get to see the majority of my family next fall for my cousin's wedding. Yessssssss.
I cut off all my fancy long nails, they were too annoying and a lot of maintenance. I like the way they look, my boys loved having their backs scratched by them, but whaaaaaaat? I can't believe how much work they are! Bah. Back to the drawing board.
As a result, many of my tender fingertips dried up and cracked open. Yeeeeouch! That hurts. Ladies, is this normal?
I am finding our home to be more homey and desirable as the years go by. It is nice. I like feeling like this is my house, not someone else's house that I just happen to live in. It seems like I have felt that way since we moved here.
I suppose it helps that we finally rearranged the living room satisfactorily, where it verges on looking nicely put together. And with that, we hung our wall-hangings were we wanted them, instead of on the pre-existing nails.
It feels really good. I like looking around now.
FACT: Our living room (the "addition" that was added in the mid-80's when the home owner was paralyzed in a car accident) is the size of our first apartment, about 600 square feet. Very nice for children to romp around, but tell me -- how on earth can that possibly look cute? It is really hard.
FACT: We've lived here for 4 years next month. Yowza. How is that possible?? Has time really gone that fast? We have now lived here for the same length of time that we did at our house in S. Minneapolis. And I cried so hard when we left there.
I'm reading The Pioneer Woman Cooks. Holy smokes, a lot of her recipes leave me drooling. (Aside from using way too much white flour and worse, vegetable shortening. I'd rather use the real deal. LARD. White flour can be subbed just as easily, but still.) I like that the food she presents is so simple, and a lot of what "your average folk" eat (or ate growing up). And I really like that her recipes are hearty. Yo, it gets the stomach growling.
Often, when Stinky is nursing, it is like his left-hand is alive and jealous of my breast, working evil. Somehow, it is always creeping in . . . fighting for the space, trying to get in his mouth, and he has to decide whether to drink milk or suck on his thumb. It mostly happens while he is sleepy, so it really is like his hand has a mind of its own, taking advantage of the situation and its hapless prey. (We're talking about a hand here. A baby's hand.) It has made me laugh so robustly that it actually startled the poor babe and diverted the malicious intentions of his rogue left-hand. Argh, matey.
I better close up shop . . . this list is getting long.
I think I'll post some pictures of my boys. See below, sisters.

Como Park with Unky Brent

2011-06-03T16:23:00.000-05:00

Poor Diego cried on the carousel the first time 'round.

He was on a horse and thought he might fall off --

Riding in the sleigh was much, much better.

(Though he did wonder if he could fall off that too.)

Truby was unfazed by the carousel.

He wasn't bothered by it last summer either --

and he rode all by himself then

(with me standing next to him).

Doppelgangers.

Everyone in my family says that

Jamie looks like Brent when he was a baby.

"I see Brent," is pretty much the word on the street.

(Check out Stinky's monster socks!)

The Great Memorial Day Weekend Garden Blitz

2011-06-01T17:20:00.005-05:00

We attacked the garden with unrelenting force for three whole days last weekend and ended up with something we are very, very proud of.

Goodbye weeds! Goodbye horrors! Hello gorgeous future-garden.

We look at it as an investment. If one doesn't gain control of the garden at the very start, when the plants are still tiny babies, you will spiral out of control with embarrassment and spend the rest of the summer wrestling with weeds. It is a battle worth fighting. A battle worth an 18-20 hour investment over a (formerly leisure-filled) 3-day weekend.

BEFORE

Green! Weedy! Unsightly!

AFTER

Brown! Brag-worthy! Packed with potential!

Squeeze did the bulk of the work, but I came out in force during the baby's long afternoon nap. We are the perfect workmates in a garden, even in weeding. I like the big stuff, like thistles (which he hates), and he gets a charge out of eradicating the teensy things, like crab grass babies (which could put me over the brink of pathos).

Perfect! Go get 'em, team.

Say it isn't so

2011-05-23T15:48:00.004-05:00

Four words:

PROJECTILE VOMITING. Every day.

If he didn't act so perfectly normal and happy, I might seriously wonder if there was something wrong. Neither of my other boys ever had this problem and I now consider my past-self lucky.

I've learned to dodge the vomit by leaning forward or to the side when I know it's coming. When I don't realize it is on it's way . . . we are get totally covered in yellow fermenting milk curds. You know the smell.

As my older boys say these days, "Oh yeah!"

Who me?

It's GO time

2011-05-20T16:34:00.003-05:00

Meh meh meh
Blah blah blah

That's how I've been feeling the last couple of days. I haven't really been able to put my finger on it exactly, until I realized, OH YEAH, it's because Blaine has been outside working every night until dark. Yeah, yeah. That's right. Until dark. Every day this week.

It's getting old for me and I know it is tiring for him too. (And especially hard on both of us with the babe. Me, needing a break, and him, missing him.) I have to keep remembering that this is seasonal, and it will end. It will. But it might be another month.

It is raining today, so I'm hoping he won't duke it out with the forces of nature and insist on planting the tomatoes tonight. I'm pretty sure he won't. And Lord knows we all need a break.

It is temporary. Just temporary.

I have to remember that.

I'm also in the middle of a massive Friends of the Library fundraising glut, where four events are converging in the space of three weeks. (June is apparently GO! Month.) Since I am the main organizer, that means I am doing things like recruiting all the volunteers and trying to figure out how many gallons of cole slaw are needed to feed 100 people. (Five gallons, can you believe it??)

The cole slaw is what is needling me the most, actually. I can't wait to have that conundrum behind me.

While I'm at it, I might as well insert some outright bragging --

Our Friends of the Library group has been in existence for 2.5 years now. We have bought 4 different bookshelves for the library, spent somewhere around $600-700 in new books for the collection, and still have $4,000 in the bank.

Yow. We rule.

Crikes

2011-05-16T17:03:00.004-05:00

Holy smokes, our Little Jamie is only 4 months old, not 5 months old like I (literally) thought at the beginning of the month. (Did anyone catch that?) Is this proof that he is my third child or what?? I can hardly keep track.

I suppose it doesn't help that he is 20 lbs (!!!) and starting to sit up. I was wondering why the other boys' baby calendars at 4 months didn't say anything about sitting up. Geez louise.

Baby in Red

20 lbs, I know. Insane. What a lunk. At this age, Diego was 19 lbs and Truen was 14 lbs. It's like two fat sausages encasing a strip of bacon. Yow, they are (were) big.

In other news, why do babies smell so wonderful? I could take in all his scents forever, right down to the sour neck, which I've had so much trouble keeping tame this time around, and has earned him the nickname "Stinky". I swear this kid will never know his real name.

Fat Stinky and his wittle giwaffe

Spring garden notes

2011-05-09T17:32:00.007-05:00

We have had an extremely chilly spring this year. Comparing this year to last, we are almost one month behind. Yowza. That's a big difference. We were actually eating out of the garden at this time last year. Aside from a chives, scallions, and a bit of lettuce, even a radish is a far-out dream at this point in time.

I've decided to do a pictorial tour of our garden this spring, to give people an idea of what it looks like at the beginning. It ain't pretty. In fact, viewing it from a distance is downright disheartening. It looks like nothing -- scallions poke up from the dirt like little pine needles and fully planted beds look like nothing more than dirt patches scattered with a couple of measly leaves.

But come late June, it will be gloriously beautiful.

Blaine planted seeds in flats in January and February. With heat mats and a little bit of sunlight and/or artificial lighting, they get a good start for summer. He starts pretty much everything inside by seed, with the exception of winter/summer squash, melons, and cucumbers.

WAITING

"Hardening off" in flats behind the house:

cabbage, broccoli, onions, scallions

Hardening off = acclimating them to outdoor temps & sun

Only the cool-growing stuff could be planted at first

(this was taken a little over a week ago)

On the left: little tiny celery

On the right: sticks in ground, ready for peas

Far-back: potatoes

Waiting inside until warmth descends upon us:

Tomatoes, peppers, tomatillos, eggplant

PLANTING

The bulk done 5/7 and 5/8

Opening up the asparagus bed --

The strawberry bed is on the other side of the garden entrance

The East Garden in background

and beyond that is the commodity crop fields.

The East Garden: south side

Garlic (coming up under straw & leaves)

Beds of lettuce, scallions, onions, green beans

The boys' mini-gardens are the beds on the far-right --

Truen can't wait to plant his "wallermelons"

The East Garden: north side

It may be hard to see, but this is entirely planted.

Foreground: celery, peas

Middle: broccoli, cabbage, chinese cabbages

Background: potatoes

The East Garden: midsection

kale, chard, spinach, mustard, lettuce

The grass paths are proof of last summer's insanity.

We over-extended ourselves and just couldn't keep up.

It was ugly.

At this point in time, the East Garden is almost completely planted. The only things left are the heat-loving plants -- peppers, tomatoes, tomatillos, eggplant, and one melon variety. We planted, and I kid you not, 200 cabbages on Sunday. That is a whole lotta sauerkraut! I'm excited about it.

The West Garden, which is a little smaller than the East, will have all of our heat-loving vining plants -- winter/summer squash, melons, cucumbers, gourds, etc., and a couple of rows of sweet corn.

We are feeling much more under control this year. I am actually able to participate for several hours each day on the weekend, with the baby's long afternoon nap. I feel good (unlike last year with pregnancy) and the older boys are big enough to entertain themselves in the garden while we work. Other than that, I do small tasks like water plants, gopher tools, seeds, and seedlings, bring out water and snacks, that kind of thing.

Being able to talk and laugh while we plant has been fun. It makes the tedious nature of the task (particularly those pine needle-like scallions!) much more pleasant.

I am so very glad we both have an interest in gardening -- I've thought many times of the impossibility if it were just one or the other. It would be just too much.

What a good team. ♥

Holy smokes

2011-05-05T16:51:00.005-05:00

I've been saying holy smokes! in my head a lot recently.

Examples are as follows:

Holy smokes! You're 5 months old already?!
Holy smokes, no wonder why you can almost sit up.
Holy smokes! Diego should be in the 6-8 year old Story Hour at the library this summer because he's going to be 6 in July?! Where has time gone?
Holy smokes, when was the last time I took a shower?
Holy smokes! I haven't posted on my blog in over a week!
Holy smokes! I have outstanding emails I need to respond to that are almost as old.
Holy smokes, it is cold outside.
Holy smokes, I'm so thankful for another sunny day . . . finally.
Holy smokes, when is this kid going to nap?
Holy smokes! Why do I have to get up at 6:00 AM again?? Oh, you -- peed the bed, didn't go back to sleep after nursing, or desperately need a snack.
Holy smokes, is Quiet Time already over??

And so on and so forth.

(I should also add that things have finally normalized around here and I feel mush, mush better. Oops, I mean much, much better.)

Pictures of the little tykes

2011-05-05T16:50:00.002-05:00

Easter egg hunting at G&G S.'s house

(Does this look like a Minnesota spring or what?)

Nuzzling with his little giraffe toy

and almost too big for his 6-9 month sleeper

(I love that lower lip)

A towel-ed head

He's finally talking about getting his hair-cut

(Just in time for spring)

It's been rough

2011-04-26T17:28:00.005-05:00

I've crafted many-a-post in my mind of late with no time to get at the computer, but now my mind is a pile of mush.

Mush, I tell you.

We are on the mend around here. Ear infection, conjunctivitis, rumbling bowels, a slight cold, and the in-grown toenail have all been stamped out and/or healed. Thankfully. We have been home two weeks today and things are just starting to feel normal again.

But I still feel strange.

I honestly feel like I am still recovering from the week-long unrelenting grind and nasty-screeching-whinefest that was Truen's ear and eye infections. (Nothing was right, everything was wrong -- my jaw was clenched virtually all his waking hours.)

My patience is thin. I am antsy and irritated. I am here, but not really present. Annoyed with my children. Cranky. Feeling like I can't catch a break.

I've honestly thought things like, "What on earth did I get myself into??" in regards to motherhood. (Regretting motherhood? Almost 6 years into it?!) I wish I could send them into a time vortex where I don't have to deal with them for a few hours. Or days.

Isn't that terrible? But I suppose every mother feels that way at one time or another. I know I've felt this way before.

In spite of everything, in the midst of it . . . while they are asleep and looking like little angels, I look at them and feel teary about how they are growing and changing and wonder if I am good enough for them. What a paradox.

And I do know, even while feeling angst verging on despair, that I am in the midst of transition. And that transition is often the harbinger of stress.

The smaller transition of coming back into "real life" after three weeks away. There is always a rough period of re-entry, which seems particularly hard for the 3 year olds. I remember Diego being pretty hard to deal with when he was three as well (and he wasn't even sick).

And more importantly, the larger transition of adding a baby into the mix -- which definitely shortens the already-sparse freedom of mind and movement. I'm trying to remind myself to slow down and enjoy my children instead of feeling overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the work that needs to be done. It is hard not to feel bogged down by the almost-constant mess, even for those who are not naturally tidy.

I'll get over it. I cannot wait to get over it. I want to be a happy mama, not an unsmiling, short-tempered glum hag-of-a-bag-of-a-mama.

Perhaps a little spring and sunshine will help. We have had ONE sunny day since I've been home. Otherwise it has been snow (!!!), gray clouds, and rain. Dreary, dreary, dreary.

In other (happier) news:
We started planting our garden this past weekend. Potatoes, celery, and peas. It is going to be a cold week with the lows in the mid-30's, so next weekend it will be radishes and lettuce.

Last year at this time we had already eaten our first radish, which tells you how different this spring is from last. Much, much colder.

With a dash of pinkeye

2011-04-18T10:55:00.002-05:00

Add conjunctivitis to the list of maladies that has befallen us since we got home. Truen. He's at the tail-end of it (his ear infection too), but it has been a miserable few days.

He is a beast when he isn't feeling well, a total beast. Completely irrational and unreasonable. He stretches me to the very end of my patience, leaving me totally sucked dry -- to the point of not even feeling sorry for him anymore. It is terrible.

At least I was finally able to unpack yesterday.

Un-un-un-un

2011-04-15T13:35:00.004-05:00

We're home! Amazingly (or perhaps not) I missed both flights, there and back again. The new rule is to arrive no later than 2 hours before the flight is scheduled for departure.

No exceptions.

I hate that, but I hate all the complications and angst that goes hand-in-hand with missing a flight way, way more.

And there is just something so funky about traveling with children. Sickness seems to ensue more often than not. And amazingly, we picked up 2-3 different things this time around.

Truen woke me up crying with an earache that very first night we were home. An ear infection, his first at three years old. He has an accompanying fever and hasn't wanted to eat much. He tends to be very unpleasant when sick or hurt, so things have been pretty miserable around here.

Diego? Diarrhea. His stomach has been bothering him on and off since last Sunday morning. I haven't been able to pinpoint the cause, but it finally turned into full-out crampy diarrhea this morning. Lovely. He's laying on the couch with a hot salt pack on his belly right now.

The baby? His second cold. It is minor, thank goodness. It is just as minuscule as his first cold at 6 weeks. It hasn't interrupted his sleep at all, seems to be congested only at night, and is just as happy as usual. I am so thankful for that.

So yes, I'm home. But things aren't quite normal yet.

We arrived home on Wednesday evening and I still have yet to unpack.

Over and out.

New favorites

2011-04-06T02:02:00.008-05:00

We are still here with my parents in Western WA, though we are winding down towards the end of our three week visit. I'm starting to get a little panicky, hoping that I haven't missed anyone and feeling the time-crunch of the End.

That's why our visits are so long -- to enable a nice, leisurely visit vs. a frantic, frenzied week-long blitz. I like it so much better that way, though we do miss Blaine.

The boys have been having a great time with Grandma and Grandpa. "Fruit yogurt" from Grandma and lengthy games of Candy Land with Grandpa probably top the (very long) list. My parents are having a nice time with the boys too, but have wondered "How on earth did we do it?!" in remembering of the energy-levels and constant direction that comes with little ones.

Here are a few of the boys' favorite things from this visit:

Spring!

Playing outside has been a big hit --

Diego still hasn't found a frog or a bird's nest,

but loves playing with the dog and has found many, many slugs.

Truen picks me dandelions almost every time he is outside.

"Candy Island" with Grandpa --

Diego is particularly crazy about it.

One time he got the Candy Heart four times in one game.
Yowza. That's a lot.

Truen usually plays a quarter or half-game
before he gets bored and wanders off,
though he did last long enough to win yesterday.

Jamie's new trick:
Sucking on a strategically-placed clean diaper --
Very tasty with an intriguing mouth-feel.

A whole bunch of firsts

2011-03-31T17:14:00.001-05:00

Grandpa O

Grandma O

Uncle Erik

Uncle Andrew and Brenda

Unky Ashley

"Uncle" Jayna

Great-Gram C

(she couldn't stop smooching him)

I fell off the face of the earth and landed in Western WA

2011-03-30T17:56:00.003-05:00

Yes, yes. I'm alive. After a whirlwind that included a weekend of both boys vomiting for 12-hours apiece (the day before we needed to leave, of course), I'm at my parents' house in Western Washington.

It is lovely -- lush, green spring. Flowers are blooming, the air has that wonderfully-chill damp feel to it, and best of all, no coats required. Sweater weather! It feels so good. Particularly with the fact that it is 10 degrees lower than usual at home and the landscape is covered, yet again, with SNOW.

Ugh. Flee!

So we are here with my parents. I've seen all siblings but one, was delighted by a surprise visit from my SIL who I didn't think I was going to get to see, saw the tide way, way out during the Supermoon, and, deliciously, have slept with the window open every single night.

Exploring the mud flats while the tide is out

Reading with Grandpa

Just look what the Little Mister can do now!

I've been busy visiting, but I have also been kept on my toes by those little bouncing boys and my sweet baby. I started this post several days ago! I don't even know when . . . I've lost track.

As the baggage man at the airport said, "I don't know how you moms do it". Seriously. I don't know how we do it either.

The one thing I was pleasantly surprised by en route to my parents' house was the overall support and good attitude met by strangers. I was prepared to start a ticker-chart of how many times I heard, "Oh boy, I see you have your hands full!" but I didn't hear it at all. Not even once.

Instead, I heard "You are so patient . . . and what else can you be? Great job, Mom!" and "You boys were very good little travelers" and (as they were going bananas in the bathroom, Diego running out into the halfway by himself just before) "It gets easier, I promise - enjoy those little guys while you can" and "Escalator?? No. Let me help you find the elevator!"

It felt so good, particularly that first comment. I patted her on the shoulder and said, "Thank you so much! It is so encouraging to hear that." And it was. So encouraging. Without a doubt, it helped me stay calm and work towards patience.

Patience is a skill, right? One that we all have to work towards, especially with the little tykes.

Ho-ho-ho

2011-03-17T23:12:00.005-05:00

We went to my in-laws last weekend for a mega-late Christmas celebration. A broken ankle, a new baby, tons of snow, and influenza were some of the many reasons we weren't able to celebrate it closer to the actual date.

The boys had a fabulous time playing with their cousins.

There are 13 cousins on the Borealis side of the family. That number includes our boys, as everyone calls all the grandkids simply "the cousins". My side of the family there are three cousins. Just us. The brothers.

There are three age groups of Borealis cousins: older, middle, and youngest. My boys are in the youngest group, of course, and got to play with the other little guys. It goes Levi (6), Diego (5), Mia (4), and Truen (3). As you can imagine, there is a lot of racing around and hollering. They just love it.

Unfortunately, I don't have pictures of the younger cousins playing (drat...I should have lined 'em up and got a shot), but I DO have a picture of the boys in the van in the garage after we got home. I thought the pictures turned out kind of neat.

Little Jamie all wrapped up and in the driver's seat.

(I swear by the swaddle, ladies...my boy-ohs love it.)

Diego was totally zonked.

Truen, not so much --

He had slept on the way there.

Love and loathing

2011-03-15T20:04:00.005-05:00

Facebook.

What a beautiful curse. Or hideous blessing.

Which one?

I hate Facebook for the fact that it is a timesuck. It can stir discontent and jealousy. At times it makes me wonder why my life is so boring. I sometimes feel frenzied, like I need to look-look-look and I don't have enough TIME to see everything I could or should. There are too many people to keep track of.

Sometimes I am bothered by seeing wear and tear on my peers' faces while knowing that I, too, am aging.

I love Facebook because it keeps me connected to people that I care about. Folks from my past, ones that I would only wonder about from a distance, and getting a glimpse of their lives. I love the reconnection factor. I really enjoy seeing my siblings in action and laughing at old and new jokes.

It can cause unforseen complications and delightful surprises.

And with all this howling, one would think I'm on there several times a day. Reality: a few times a month, tops. Sometimes I even avoid it.

Blasted thing. I love and hate you simultaneously.

Facebook.

Sweet freedom of mind and movement

2011-03-14T18:10:00.000-05:00

All three boys are napping at the same time. Mega "late" too, due to daylight savings.

I have a Friends of the Library meeting tonight to get ready for and Squeeze is dropping off our van at the mechanic shop to have the front struts replaced.

The house is sunny and quiet. It feels good.

Against all odds

2011-03-10T17:16:00.004-06:00

My Number One Goal today was to get a picture of the brothers. I'm contemplating getting a birth announcement out before my babe is 4 months old this time around. Amazing, I know. My idea is to send a picture of "just Jamie" along with a picture of the brothers together.

So . . . I've had to be strategic about it. I gave Truen a haircut this week. They took a bath this morning and even washed hair (a nightmare with Truen, still, at age 3 -- will it never end?!). We picked out clean clothes and converged on the sunroom when it was nice and sunny, but not too bright. It was in between naps for the baby, so I was hoping he would be sunny and bright as well.

He was, kind of. I guess. For a split second.

Here's how it started --

"Truen, look up! Look up at me!"

(Oh dear . . . I think the baby is going to lose it)

Then things started going downhill fast,

still with "Truen, look at me! At me!"

and poor Diego, disheartened.

Then the calamity hit the peak of ridiculousness. I picked up the baby to calm him and stuck a pacifier in his mouth, which can usually turn his mood from rain-clouds to rainbows. Sure enough, it worked. He was happy and calmed. I had the boys position themselves again, placed a refreshed baby back on their laps, got the camera ready, pulled out the plug, and two things happened simultaneously: the baby SMILED and the camera battery DIED.

Murphy's Law, right? Sheesh. I couldn't believe it.

So I put the battery in the charger and did something else for awhile. After 5-10 minutes I figured the battery had enough juice and doggone it, we had spent the entire morning getting ready for this and I couldn't give up.

But this time ------- it didn't work.

The baby started hollering, which necessitated

Truen to cover his assaulted left ear,

while Diego languished in despair.

Amazing. I couldn't give up, could I? So I did what any frantic mama would do. The most moronic and frenzied noises started flying out of me as I rocked backward and forward, acting as if I hadn't a brain in my head. Muah! Mrar! Gpkkkkkkkk!

Annnnnnd they loved it.

The big boys giggled endlessly

while the baby seemed satiated, if not intrigued.

This one is my favorite of the two older boys

I like the baby's fat hands too ---

(he's starting to figure out how to get those buggers

up to his mouth for a nice long suck)

That last picture would never do in a card. Ohhhhhhh well....

It was quite the adventure at the very least.

Just when I needed it

2011-03-09T15:47:00.003-06:00

Sulcorebutia arenacea

This cacti is a descendant of a plant that was half-eaten by a squirrel while it summered on our back patio in Minneapolis. It lived and, as you can see, prospered. I adore the flaming vibrant orange of this cacti. It seers my eye-sockets and leaves me begging for more. Particularly on these still wholly white spring days.

There is something so charming and perhaps a little mysterious about a spiky plant blooming, isn't there? I actually had to pull a sliver-spike out of Diego's hand this morning from this little beauty. He's the one who found it in full bloom late yesterday afternoon (I had seen there were buds on it, but had forgotten). The flowers close at night and re-open in the daylight hours, so some of them were half-closed when he showed me.

Diego brought it to me again this morning and I placed it in the middle of the kitchen table so we couldn't forget about it again. I am keen on cultivating an interest in plants with my children. There is so much intrigue and beauty to explore -- I want them to be awed by it.

I want to know

2011-03-08T16:14:00.000-06:00

Why does salmon and squash taste so good together? Has anyone else discovered this delightful combination? It has got to be one of my favorites.

Today's lunch: leftover salmon cakes and the remnants of our very last butternut squash. Delicious.

In other news: I've been virtually housebound for the last three weeks. Influenza is to thank, of course. "Spring" in Southwestern Minnesota feels like the dead of winter this year. The snow has got to be mid-thigh and everything is still completely white.

With this combo, I think I'm getting a little batty.

SF 59: Traffic Jam

2011-03-05T16:57:00.000-06:00

I really love this song.

(I ended up getting sick, btw. I can't tell if it is a minor version of the flu or the secondary infection [a cold]that the boys had after the initial sickness. It isn't horrific, though I can't stop coughing, I've been terribly cold, and my hips in particular have been sore. The baby is still healthy . . and hopefully will remain so.)

Influenza update

2011-03-01T16:59:00.002-06:00

Squeeze went back to work on Monday. He feels like he is at 80% and took a nap almost as soon as he got home, the poor guy.

He missed all 5 days of work last week. When you add that to the 5 days he took off for the baby's birth in January, that doesn't leave much for the rest of the year. And it is only March 1st. Ugh.

Bloody influenza.

Diego ended up getting sick, unfortunately. His fever started on Thursday night and broke in the early morning hours of Sunday AM. He had all the same symptoms as the other two: fever, chills, headache, hurting eyeballs, etc.

Now what we are left with is that lingering hacking cough and a severe need for an early nap every day.

The baby and I are still holding out. I've washed my hands so many times that my fingerprints must have worn off by now. From what we've read, children can be contagious for up to two weeks after initial onset of symptoms, so I still have to exercise extreme caution for another week and a half. The agony.

I was having thoughts last night of giving up while nursing at 3:00 AM, which is insane, but I am so tired of being paranoid and viewing my own children as the enemy.

I just can't wait until this whole mess is behind us.

The Brothers

2011-02-28T16:27:00.000-06:00

Just LOOK at these brothers

All my sweet babies . . .

(cue tears)

♥

This was the week before influenza struck

and they haven't been this close since.

No way, no how.

(I know Ash will be most pleased with that little lower lip)

Influenza

2011-02-24T15:15:00.006-06:00

Squeeze has missed four days of work because of it.

Truen had it too.

Truby described it as, "my eyes are being bladed" and "my bones and skin hurt". The poor little guy. Blaine said his descriptions are exactly what it feels like, as if his eyeballs were bruised and he'd been rolled over by a bulldozer.

Sore joints, sensitivity to touch, sensitivity to light and sound, fever, chills, first you're hot and then you're cold, the cough, lack of appetite, etc.

Such a bummer.

Truen had two bad days. Lots of laying around and moaning, eating virtually nothing. He took fluids without a problem, thank goodness. He seems to be back to normal now -- eating normally and acting like himself.

Blaine feels a bit better today, feeling like he is starting to regain his strength; but that is after three days of laying on the couch totally incapacitated. Ugh. He's also had a hard time sleeping, on top of it all. It has been terrible.

So I've been serving up a lot of hot tea, warm chicken stock, orange juice, and water. Last night I cooked a salmon filet that really hit the spot with the old boys; it was just what they needed after days of not eating.

Jamie, Diego, and I seem to be in the clear. One would think we would have gotten it by now . . . but who knows. We are still acting as if Blaine and Truen have the plague. I cannot imagine having a 7 week old with the flu. I don't even want to think about it. The horror.

blahblahblahblah

2011-02-16T17:32:00.008-06:00

Yowza. Life for me at this moment feels like pure survival. There is so much to do, so many needs and wants to tend to, and only one of me to go around. I'm not overly stressed, but it doesn't leave much time for anything else.

So instead of a thoughtful post, a list-post.

I have had a rash in the creases of my armpits. What the? I seem to have finally knocked it out with tea tree oil, but it had been hanging around since before the baby was born. Annoying. But at least it isn't on my face.
I seem to have caught up with Squeeze's need for tidiness. I feel irritable when the house is strewn with toys or messy, significantly more than I ever have. My tolerance for messes has always been very high, but since I've started structuring my life more, that level has gone down. I'm sure it has something to do with the amount of labor I put into, say, cleaning the bathroom, only to have the bathroom sink muddied with tempera paint residue a couple of hours later. Or, "Didn't I just sweep?!"
With that in mind, I have incorporated the older boys into the structure more than I ever have. Sure, I had them pick up, or clear their spot after they ate, but I've amped it up a level. I have them help put away laundry, vacuum the kitchen floor, wipe up their spills, and pick up (almost) every afternoon. I think that last one is key. The toys are strewn everywhere because of them, not me. They need to be responsible to clean it up. Daily. I will help, but it is primarily their responsibility.
I give them certain jobs, (i.e. "Truen, you pick up the Duplo blocks while you work on the Star Wars guys, Diego") to keep them on task, because they look at the mess and their eyes just glaze over -- they literally have no idea what to do. A very familiar feeling for me, though it has eased over the years of practice and maturity.
So then I become a drill sergeant. They have a hard time staying focused, which means that I need to stay on top of them until the task is done. It can be fun -- like when we pretend they are robots or "grabbers" (Truen-grabber and Diego-grabber, they call themselves). Or it can be maddening. Then they go and sit until they are ready to cooperate.
This is one of my discipline tactics: I want them to take responsibility for their actions, so I give them choices. "You can do this, or you can do that -- it's your choice," I say. In a situation where they don't want to do something I've asked them to do, their choices are as follows: "You can do after-breakfast clean-up, or you can go sit in your bed until you are ready to do after-breakfast clean-up." Sometimes they, and actually, I should say this is primarily Truen, not Diego, choose to clean up right away, and sometimes he chooses to sit. Whatever. Eventually, he bends to my will. And almost always without a fight.
I've been making custard quite regularly recently -- it tastes so delicious, like warm, velvety ice cream. The best one ever was a luscious chocolate with shredded coconut. Yo. Delicious. Like I've said in the past, I want to beat them at their own fight.
Little Jamie is 6 weeks old. I can hardly believe it. He is so sweet, nice and chunky. Love it.
He also has his first cold. Such a bummer. The other boys didn't get sick until they were several months old. I feel like this is just so young and that I am a bad mama because of it. I could have prevented it. In fact, I think I'm the one who gave it to him -- I couldn't stop smooching his face this weekend when I wasn't quite sure if I was going to get sick. I am thankful that it is an extremely mild cold. Both Diego and Truen were over it in a day or so; Jamie can breathe out of his nose easily and there's been just a bit of cute little sneezes and some wetness under his nose. Not bad at all. Thank goodness.
Another thing about Jamie: he complains all the time. Seriously. He regularly gives out those half-strength complaining cries that sound like talking more than crying. Over nothing! It is so weird. And funny.
He also gets extremely mad when he needs to belch and he's nursing. You know - the kind where he is just writhing and trying to nurse, but can't. Every time, almost without fail, he rages with an extremely angry cry when I lift him up to burp him. He cries stormily, fights with his body, and then that giant "BUAAAAAAAP!" comes out. He complains a little more, then goes right back to the breast. Now that I'm used to it I think it is fairly humorous, though it was a little confusing at first. It must be just his personality, I guess. It will be so interesting to watch that develop...

Snow, and lots of it

2011-02-09T18:54:00.000-06:00

Jamie's birth story

2011-02-07T17:18:00.010-06:00

Note: In the process of writing this out in lengthy and excruciating detail, I realized that I am writing this mostly for . . . myself. I want to remember everything. Each small detail is important to me -- giving birth is an amazing experience and precious memory. I don't want to lose any of it.

I am also chagrined that this is posted more than a month after Jamie's birth. I remember feeling like it took me an extremely long time to post Truen's birth story, but looking back on it this week, I realized it was posted only 5 days after he was born.

It is amazing how the pace of life changes as children get older. Why...? There are definitely more messes to clean up, little people to tend to, clothes washed, books read, food made, less napping, bunnytrails to follow...

And so on and so forth.

***

Little Jamie Sterling was born at home on a beautifully sunny day on Tuesday, January 4 at 10:36 AM.

I had been having contractions on and off for the past week, so I didn't think much of it. They had followed an every-other-day activity pattern, active mostly in the afternoons and early evening. The surges were closer together with each day of activity: 30 minutes, 15 minutes, 10-12 minutes.

I cautiously called my midwife each time, wanting to stay in close contact with her in the case that she might be a good distance from me on d-day. With each call, she instructed me to go to bed as usual or change up what I was doing and to call her if anything built in intensity or frequency.

So that Monday night, as we watched "Nine Nights of Glory", Universal Sports' tribute to the recently deceased Olympic filmmaker, Bud Greenspan, I casually watched the clock and timed contractions. It was one day past my due date, a day I had never reached before with either Diego or Truen.

The contractions were same-old but continued to a later time than usual, probably around 10:00 PM.

I called Judy (the midwife) at 9:00 PM. She was in Nebraska and approximately 5 hours away from me - her schedule was backed up due to a birth in the wee hours of that morning. She had been planning to be home that night, but was now going to catch some sleep at a motel in Omaha.

She instructed me to go to bed as usual, then said, "Call me if the contractions wake you up."

***

Contractions did wake me up that night. I'm pretty sure I went through a several of them before I realized what exactly was happening. I was confused because I had gotten up to pee at 1:00 AM, so when I awoke to the tightening in my belly, I assumed it was tied in with my full bladder. It doesn't make much sense, but I was groggy. (And I had often awoken that past month having to pee very badly combined with a very tight uterine contraction. They must be interrelated.)

I looked at the clock and realized I that I had, in fact, been asleep for awhile, as it was 2:51 AM. I started timing contractions and they were coming every 10-12 minutes, so I must have gone through about a half hour of surges before I actually woke up enough to realize what was going on.

Judy had said to call her if the contractions woke me up, but I still wasn't convinced that this could be it. And I just hated the idea of crying wolf. Because, what if...? So I timed the contractions for a full hour. They were consistent, so I finally called her at 4:00 AM. The poor woman, you should have heard her -- she sounded so sleepy when she picked up the phone. "....Hello?"

"Okay, I'm on my way," she said. I heard her bag zipping up in the background, like she was some super hero putting on her cape.

"This must be it!" I thought, because if she thought it was, it must be. Though I honestly felt a little hesitant and wondered if she was going to drive 5 hours for nothing.

"Go back to bed and rest until you're unable to lay there anymore," she instructed.

So I did. I went back to bed without waking Squeeze, who I deemed needful of sleep. Why wake him when there was nothing he could do anyway? I wanted him well-rested.

I got up a few times to urinate, eat a snack, and post on my blog. Judy called to say at some point that she was in transit and would be picking up her apprentice, Ruth, in Sioux City, Iowa. Ruth, working towards her CPM credential, would be the acting Head Midwife at my birth.

I laid there semi-comfortably, not sleeping at all, timing my contractions. Was this it? I still wasn't sure. Eventually the surges were making me so uncomfortable that I needed to breath through each one. That should have been a sign, but I still wasn't necessarily convinced. Silly mama.

At 6:30 AM, I couldn't lay there any longer. It was just too unpleasant.

I got up to pee again and planned to take a shower when Diego came sleepily into the bathroom. I broke Judy's rule ("Don't take a shower until I get there.") and took a shower, with Diego joining me. Predictably, the warm water felt very good. ("Well, of course!" Judy said later.) But I was bound and determined to take one so I could smell fresh for the ladies. I needed one. Bad.

I knew Blaine would be up for work soon and sure enough, he came into the bathroom right on time and asked, "Is this it...?!" I'm pretty sure answered, "It might be. I think?" Ha.

I didn't want to commit to anything, just in case.

Squeeze had known something was up before he even came downstairs, when he realized that our black cat Toots wasn't with him. He jokingly refers to her as his alarm clock, as she wakes him up if he sleeps longer than 6:45 AM. She walks down the stairs with him every morning, then ditches him to come and sleep on my legs.

But there was other activity going on that morning.

I got out of the shower, started breakfast, and called my doula friend to let her know "this was it". When a contraction came, I just stopped what I was doing and swayed my hips a bit -- it just felt right. By this time, I was pretty sure that I was going to have my baby that day, probably mid to late afternoon. Ha, again.

Squeeze called his parents to tell them to come and pick up the boys, giving them an ETA of 9:00 AM.

I then called my mom to let them know, but actually had to cut the conversation short to breathe through a contraction. She was worried about the weather as it had been blizzarding the weekend before, but it was as clear as a bell and a beautifully sunny day.

"Your dad has been sweating bullets for months," she said.

Diego was in the sunroom reading Little Critter books and Truen was still sleeping. Squeeze was moving throughout the house, prepping for the day.

***

Everyone, and I mean everyone, converged on the house within minutes of each other at 9:00 AM: the midwives, my doula friend Suz, Squeeze's parents. His parents didn't even come in the house -- his mom had broken her ankle in early December and it was just too big of a production, so they waited in the car.

Squeeze woke up the still-sleeping Truen, had him eat, gathered their bags, and shuttled the boys to the car.

Meanwhile, I sat in the kitchen with Ruth and Suz. Judy took care of business on her phone, then went upstairs to take a short nap while things were still quiet. Ruth was officially the midwife-in-charge.

We conversed in a relaxed fashion, stopping every 5-7 minutes for me to focus through another contraction. I would say, "Here's another one," and put my head in my hands to relax through it.

Each time, Suz would get up and apply a soothing, firm, caressing pressure on my back, from my shoulders down to my lower back, which felt superb. Physically, it helped me relax and remember to relax. Emotionally, I felt supported and very well taken care of. I was so happy to have her there.

Ruth quietly timed, observed, and kept notes.

After sending the boys on their way, Squeeze let the chickens out, watered and fed them, and cleaned up the kitchen. I was hungry and ate a bowl of oatmeal.

After that, Ruth wanted to check the position of the baby, so we headed into the living room. I laid on the couch while she listened to fetal heart tones with the fetascope and felt my belly. Everything looked good.

I then moved to the floor, sitting cross-legged and bolt upright. Suz was behind me, caressing my back, sometimes applying firm pressure with her belly and legs, playing with my hair. It felt so nice -- very reassuring. Ruth was in the rocker in the front-right of me, still sitting quietly and taking notes. I appreciated her affirming presence as well.

At this point, contractions were coming every 3-5 minutes and lasting approximately one minute and forty seconds, though I wasn't aware of it at the time.

Squeeze came in the room and sat on the couch next to me, holding my hand. We were still amiably chatting and he told me how he had seen a white hen in a nesting box, yolk on her beak and caught in mid-act, eating an egg.

"And I know which one she is," he said.

"Do you," I said. "Hmmmm. I wonder if we should be done with her this winter -- I mean, if you know which one she is."

"Yeah," he said, and with that, I plunged into another contraction and the conversation ceased.

This one was a little different, though. I started to feel a little nauseated at the very end. I told Ruth and said that I was starting to feel like I wanted to get into the shower. "Right now?" she asked, but I wanted to wait another one out.

The next contraction was milder, but at this point there was no conversation. I needed to be quiet and focus. The next contraction came and, again, with slight nausea at the end.

"I want to get into the shower now," I said and got up.

Interestingly, after the birth, Suz told me that she had been wondering what just might happen when I stood up. Sitting bolt upright, there was no place for the baby to go; she thought there might be a sudden flurry of activity when I got up. Not unlike a lightning bolt.

Was she ever right.

I could hardly walk to the bathroom. I felt like I was tottering on stilts. Suz was by my side, helping me walk. I don't know where anyone else was. Later, I realized that Judy had heard the activity and bolted downstairs.

When I made it to the bathroom I ripped off my clothes and got into the shower, seeking the refuge of warm water. It felt good, though not as calming as I wanted. Things were picking up speed, and quickly. I was there for a very short period of time -- what felt like 2-3 minutes.

While in the shower, I was able to feel up inside myself and feel the baby's head with the membranes of the sac in between. Amazing. It was right there. When I looked at my hand I saw hair-like threads of blood. I remember that happening with Truen, too (only I could feel his actual head, as my water had already broken). We were very close.

During what felt like the second contraction, my body was hit with the urge to push. I let out one of the primal grunting-moans that come when the body takes charge. I was helpless against its force.

"I want to get in the bathtub!" I said.

***

The midwives started running water in the tub, which makes the shower run cold. Unfortunately. I said something to that effect and turned off the water. Feeling very cold, I doubled over with another contraction. I think I was almost on my hands and knees.

Someone threw a towel over me to keep me warm, but I wanted in the tub and quickly got back up. I wanted to be warm. I wanted the comfort of the warm water.

When I got in the tub, I again sat bolt upright. I wasn't thinking, just doing. (Why upright? So strange.)

The water was running in but it was not much relief, as it wasn't very deep yet. I felt a huge pressure on my butt and felt extremely uncomfortable. At this point in time, I remember that all I wanted to do was get out of the tub, get on the toilet, and poop. Poop! (I was totally tricked by this last time.)

"I know it's the baby's head . . . but I really feel like I need to poop!" I said.

So even while I wasn't totally deceived, I was still tricked. Drat. What a strange paradox, to truly know what was causing the sensation, i.e. the baby's head, but still falling prey to the unbearable and irresistible feeling of what it was not, which was the need to poop. If that makes sense.

At that point, I was incredibly thirsty and Squeeze got me a drink of water.

Another contraction came, along with the moaning-groan of the urge to push. Suz had her hand on my back, encouraging me. The water was a little higher and I simultaneously heard and felt a POP, not unlike the explosion of a baked potato, between my legs.

"Something just popped," I said. It was an interesting sensation, as both my previous labors had started with the water breaking 20-22 hours before the actual birth.

I rested, then another contraction hit that left me feeling helpless. I had read through the Stages of Labor just that week and remembered that laboring women feel extremely vulnerable and overwhelmed during Transition, like they aren't going to be able to do it.

"Oh my gosh, I feel like I can't do it," I said, very much aware that my feelings were written right into manuals of labor. The ladies all chorused their words of encouragement, though I can't remember what they said.

I rested, then felt like I was thrown backwards with the force of the next contraction. Like a giant wind blew me back. I was now leaning against the back of the tub, legs stretched out in front of me.

"I can't do it," I whimpered. (I cried when I heard and saw myself saying that while watching the birth video later that day, it was so sad and pathetic.) At that, I was immediately thrown into the groans of another urge to push.

"You are doing it," Judy said encouragingly, "the baby's head is right there. Lots of dark hair."

Another urge to push.

"See? It's right there," she encouraged, "That's your baby. Your baby is right there." And I was encouraged. I felt a quiet strength seep into my bones.

At this point, the contractions must have been coming right on top of each other, because there was not much time to rest. I leaned back, feeling the baby's head, moaning with the intensity of the contractions.

As the baby's head crowned, Judy said, "Pant - pant - pant - pant", a tactic to help slow the entry of the baby's head and allow the perineal tissue to stretch a little more slowly.

I remember barely being able to pant with the force of the urge to push being so strong. I honestly tried, but kept transitioning back to the pushing moan. It was a force to be reckoned with. Judy brought me back several times, with me truly trying to pant, until I could finally no longer do it. (The duration of my pant-pant-pant attempts was maybe 30-40 seconds.)

My body took charge.

With a forceful groan, out came his little head. But there was no rest. I'm not sure if it was a separate contraction or a continuing contraction, but I had to push. Judy noticed it as well as said something to the effect of "Alright, now push again!" and HUAH! out slithered the rest of his little body.

His arms were flailing in the air, feet tucked up under his body, mouth open wide. And he was totally purple. (In the video, the purple is quite striking against my pale skin. Beautiful, even.) Squeeze said, "It's a boy!" with a little happy laugh as the baby was brought up to my chest.

"I'm done...! I'm done...!" I breathed, as the midwife suctioned his little nose and mouth, "I can't believe I'm done!" I was so relieved. They put a blanket over him and a little hat on his head.

I then set to examining him. He had Diego's nose, hardly any vernix, and oh my, "You're so purple," I said.

"He's pinking up nicely," Judy crooned, almost verging on baby talk. She lifted up the blanket and lightly patted him. "See?" she said. And he was -- pink and plump and perfect.

I said again that I couldn't believe I was already done. "That went fast," I said, "Didn't it?" Yes, yes, it did they all replied. And it did. 10:36 AM -- approximately an hour and a half after everyone arrived -- seven and a half hours after the contractions woke me up.

It went fast.

Looking back, I feel like the end hit me with hurricane force. There weren't any rest periods or peaceful breaks. (There were with Truen, definitely.) I was at the mercy of my uterus. My body was completely in charge and it was my job to work with it. I feel pretty good about it, though I did feel almost bewildered after it was over, like I didn't get a chance to savor it. It just went so quickly and with such intensity.

***

After the birth, the midwives had me take an herbal bath while I nursed the baby. They weighed and measured him, diapered and dressed him. Squeeze snuggled with him in the warm morning sun. I got out, dressed, and went straight into bed. My very own cozy and freshly-made bed. Delicious.

The midwives cleaned everything up, washed dishes, and did a load of laundry (towels and blankets), then came into the bedroom for post-partum instructions before settling down into a short cat-nap. Suz made sure I had a snack and something to drink and took pictures of me nursing the baby in bed before returning home to her young family.

By early afternoon the house was quiet, warm, and sun-filled. Squeeze and I snuggled in bed with the baby and talked through the birth. We laughed about how, when I whimpered "I can't do it...", his insides were thinking the exact same thing, wondering how a full-sized newborn inside that big belly was actually going to make its way out. Even after the experience of seeing two previous births.

We rested all that afternoon, lounging in bed, then called Squeeze's parents to bring the boys home. Snuggling, smooching, and tender head caresses followed, with Truen feeling stand-offish but curious and Diego wanting to hold him ASAP.

They were, and are, very sweet with him.

Then we all went to bed together that night in our giant patchwork queen/double bed.

Two days later, he finally had a name. Jamie Sterling. The little darlin' darlin'.

***

Afterthoughts: At the last birth, I was blown away by the wonder and comfort of being able to be HOME. It felt so good -- natural, calming, and almost magical. I was allowed the comfort of my own surroundings and, having done it before, knew how to work with my body and relax through the contractions. After all, it is the uterus that is doing the work. We are just her little helpers.

This time, I felt that same relaxation and comfort. It felt so normal. But what blew me away was the presence of my doula friend, Suz. With Suz, along with two midwives and my husband, I felt extremely comforted. Special. Taken care of. I was supported and held up.

There is a lot of sense in having a gathering of birth attendants. Birthing women should be tended gently, following her cue, with much attention paid to her needs. At my first birth, I remember feeling so alone. Squeeze was with me, of course, but he knew even less than I did. We spent much of our time alone and saw a half-dozen or more different nurses and midwives by the end of our 15 hour odyssey at the hospital. I didn't feel supported, I felt confused.

I felt that comfort at my second birth, with two midwives and my husband, definitely. Very well taken care of. And of course, being at home was glory. But there was something about having a doula there at this last birth -- a person tending strictly to my emotional needs. It was so comforting.

I would definitely recommend it to anyone, especially to a first-time mom. I wish I would have had someone there for my first birth . . . I would have been so much less confused, I think.

***

So there we have it, ladies. Longest. post. ever.

Coming right up . . .

2011-02-01T22:07:00.001-06:00

Possibly the longest post EVER. My birth story.

Jamie is 1 month old today. How did that go so fast? I can hardly believe it. I don't know where the days went.

A menagerie

2011-01-30T15:21:00.002-06:00

I'm going to start Jamie's birth story this afternoon. I wonder how many days it will take me?

In other news:

One of the side benefits of bathing every few days is that it makes a hot shower feel like an absolute luxury. I can hardly believe how amazingly wonderful it feels. It makes it almost worth it. My preference is to shower every other day.
I have fancy long nails for the third time in my life. With every pregnancy, my nails become a lot stronger and I grow them out as an experiment. This time instead of cutting them all back as soon as one breaks, I've been filing them. That's what it's called, right -- a nail file? It sounds wrong. Anyway, I like them, but it is kind of annoying too. I can feel them as a type. And I've found that I have to handle things differently because they get in the way. Definitely not working hands.
I had my last postpartum appointment with my midwife yesterday. I felt very sad that I wouldn't be seeing her again very soon, if at all. Another chapter closes. There was another 3.5 week old baby there and I couldn't believe how small she was. The hostess of whose home we were using referred to Jamie as a "bruiser" in comparison to her petite frame. He seemed to be stronger too, with better control over his head and arms. Interesting.
Jamie is definitely more like Diego when he was a baby. Diego was the one that all the great-grandmas referred to as "husky". (Oh, how I loved that!) Truen was always (and is) very small, at the bottom of the charts, the baby that made the nurses wonder if he was "eating enough" or growing well enough. He's just small -- there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, as a three year old, he's wearing clothes that Diego wore at two. Size: 2T. And we still have to roll the pants.
Squeeze broke down his 72 gallon bow-front aquarium this weekend. The remnants of the fish have been moved to a 10 gallon tank (which shows how many we actually had left) and drained all the water out the window. There just isn't time for such a massive hobby in his life right now. And it isn't even massive, really. Just a few hours a month, but even that was too much. He's had it up since 2001. It used to be at the end of our bed in our duplex on Humboldt in Minneapolis and we watched it every night, mesmerized. It is truly the end of an era, though neither of us are sad about it.

Over and out.

♥ Little darlin' darlin' darlin' ♥ -- then a run-down on adjustments

2011-01-24T17:44:00.005-06:00

Sleeping sweetly in his sling

Awake and pondering the ceiling beams

Don't you just LOVE his old-man-pants look?

Or the wrinkles on his forehead?

Or his little round nostrils?

Gettin' chunky --

I had just been showing Squeeze his round little belly

The little sweet darlin' darlin'

Things are good in these parts. I can't believe how much adjustment it has been for me in mothering a newborn again. I have forgotten so much -- I think that is what has surprised me the most. I feel like my skills are rusty.

I didn't do any reading or ruminating on the new babe beforehand, either. I must have had too much to do. I also think that I assumed that I've done this twice before, it would be old shoe, right? In some ways, yes. But I have definitely been taken by surprise.

Night nursing has been the hardest for me. I swear, with the other two boys, it was a pleasure. Or at least, I took it as my serious duty to nurture my child -- through both sustenance and tender loving care.

With this little guy, I'm so groggy that I can hardly believe he's waking me up again. The nights feel like an endless cycle of nursing and then trying to get him to belch so he'll sleep soundly until the next nursing. Which feels like it never happens. And I swear whenever I set him down, he's either squirming because I can't get that elusive burp out, or he's hungry again.

Things have improved the last few nights. I feel like we have a better rhythm. I have also adjusted my expectations, which is always helpful in the game of life. Particularly in the realm of mothering.

Another helpful thing in this arena has been re-reading through some of Naturally Healthy Babies and Children by Aviva-Jill Romm. Her sections on mothering the mother, the newborn, and newborn care have helped me re-focus my vision for caring and connecting with my new baby. Little Jamie. It has been good for me to ruminate on these things.

(I highly recommend this book as the go-to for dealing with sick kids. It is my first pick, for sure. Many of the recommendations and home remedies have been very helpful -- everything from ear infections and diarrhea to fever and vomiting. Highly recommended.)

The other thing that has side-swiped me is the amount of time I don't have to just sit and stare at him. To enjoy his sweet newness. With Diego, I sat for hours and just looked at his beautiful face, smooching his soft skin and taking in his heavenly scent. With Truen, I had him in the sling 80% of the time, carrying him with me wherever I went, snuggling and smooching him.

With this little guy, I have plans.

As soon as he's asleep in the morning, I set him down and try to get as much done as possible. I have one big project in me per day. Cooking a couple of meals, cleaning up the kitchen, laundry, picking up, trying to squeeze in a healing bath and subsequent shower so I don't stink. You should see the size of our laundry pile in the living room. I'm pretty sure that the majority of our clothing is laying on the couch.

And I haven't been slinging him as much as Truen, because my body seems to be slower to recover after this pregnancy. I feel almost 100% by this point, but those first couple of weeks were rough. The ligaments that attach to my pubic bone hollered their protest if I lifted much of anything or walked too much, let alone slinging a newborn in front of me.

Things have improved this past week, but now I feel like I can work more efficiently when he's not on me. In most ways, I am able to accept this as a piece of reality. In other ways, I am mournful. I want him with me at all times. But it is so much easier to scrub potatoes or wash dishes without that sweet little 10-pound lump in front of me.

I have been slinging him, just not as much.

Ultimately . . . I am adjusting happily and working on re-setting expectations for life right now.

I do love having a newborn again -- they are so sweet. One thing I appreciate about them is that when they are crying, even stormily, they instantly STOP the second you pick them up or provide them what they need. How refreshing!

And Little Jamie . . . what a darlin'.

Here I am!

2011-01-18T20:12:00.000-06:00

I can't believe it has already been a week since my last post. Or that Little Jamie is two weeks old! Or that, in the fact that my life is so busy that I am still only two-thirds of the way done writing my birth story in the baby book, most of it involves the simple act of sitting around and nursing or patting a little babe's back.

Or giving his older brothers attention. Or napping to recover lost sleep. Or trying to keep us all fed. Or changing and/or washing diapers. Or trying to find the time to fit in a healing comfrey and sea salt bath.

In the midst of it all, I am getting to know Little Jamie and remembering how to mother a newborn again. I love how he gets so sleepy after being awake a half-hour. He bleats out the most pathetic little cries, obviously in need of yet another nap. It's just so cute.

He's sleeping in the sling right now, snuggled up on my chest.

I love the way he smells, all the sweet little grunts and snorts he makes, his lamb-like mewls, flailing limbs, softer-than-soft skin, and when he is awake and stares all around in his quiet-alert state. I love how he grunts like a little animal when he is threatening to wake up.

I love how Diego and Truen caress his head softly and seems genuinely entertained by their baby brother and how Diego cracks up when the babe belches. I love Squeeze's affectionate baby talk and sweet snuggles.

Posts about Jamie will be filed under the "Danie Blizzard" label on my blog. Danie Blizzard, in honor of the most outrageously funny name created by my brother and SIL in this post, It's a Boy! while waiting for us to finally figure one out. Abdul Danie Blizzard. That one made me laugh for days on end!

Danie is also my dad's name, which makes the reference even more precious. We were considering it for a middle name, but Jamie Danie just didn't sound right in the end.

That's a wrap.

Lots to say

2011-01-11T12:04:00.006-06:00

. . . but not much time to write it out.

I'm feeling well. Healing well, though interestingly, I feel like I am recovering from pregnancy, not childbirth. I'm 33, so it is probably harder has I get older? Sheesh, that's scary. And, as others have pointed out, those muscles and ligaments have already been stretched out twice before.

Jamie is doing well -- as sweet as a warm, sunny morning. I adore him. Having a newborn again is wonderful. What a beautiful time of life it is -- and so fleeting. There is no comparison.

The brothers are affectionate and loving. They love to caress his fuzzy little head and smother him with sloppy kisses. Truen is particularly gentle and careful, which definitely falls in line with his general personality. Diego takes pride in telling everyone, "His name is Jamie Sterling".

We've had a couple of bumps in the road of adjustment -- mostly within the realms of being careful around mama and/or baby and our sleeping arrangements. But nothing too horrific.

We co-sleep, so our sleeping arrangements go like this: Jamie, Mama, Truen, Diego, Squeeze. Diego had a hard time and cried that first night, but has since has transitioned well and has been happily snuggling with Squeeze at bed time (with a little snuggle with mama before hunkering down for the night).

I've found that I am really mourning the change. I miss him. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised; and I'm not, even though I wasn't anticipating it. Probably because there was too much else to think about. I miss his warm little body snuggled up next to mine. I miss being close to him while he is drowsy, still, and softly snuggling. I am sad that life is changing, even though I am happy about the change that precipitated this adjustment.

My tender mama's heart...!

Diego has been waking up in the early morning hours to sliver in between me and Truen to touch my neck. I'm so glad. While Truen doesn't generally like to snuggle, he does like to be with me, so he has been a little irritated with Diego sneaking in to take his spot. But not crushed.

Blaine is back at work today, after a week and three days off. I miss him terribly. He had a day off for bereavement yesterday, as his grandma died the day after Jamie was born. The funeral was yesterday. Talk about a mixed bag of joy and grief for the extended Borealis family!

She hadn't been doing well this past month after getting knocked out by a bladder infection. Thankfully, we were able to see her several times in the past weeks, though she was worse and worse every time we saw her. We can hardly believe we won't be seeing her again. I felt like that when my grandpa died, too.

So we are sad. And happy. And adjusting. And in love.

I've had a lot of inquiries about my Birth Story. I am definitely planning on it. First I have to finish writing it out in Little Jamie's baby book (I'm about half-way done) and then I need the time to pound it out on the computer. It's-a-comin', though much slower this time around.

Oh, and finally . . .

As I was carrying the phone into the sunroom this morning, I happened to see the time: 11:11 AM on 1.11.11 -- amazing. I still can't believe how freqently I happen to look at the clock at that time. What fun to see it on January 11, 2011! Wow.

Meet Jamie

2011-01-09T13:43:00.002-06:00

He has a name!

::: Jamie Sterling :::

I am totally smitten

My sweetest little darlin' Baby Borealis (still no name)

2011-01-05T11:59:00.003-06:00

10:36 AM

2011-01-04T13:41:00.002-06:00

So quick, I know. Our third little baby BOY was born this morning after just a few pushes. In the tub. With daddy, doula, and midwives watching. Another amazing experience, though it went so quick I could hardly believe I was actually experiencing it.

8 lbs 7.5 oz
21 inches long (I think)

Nursing like a champ. Totally has Diego's nose. Sleeping softly.

Precious.

Possibly maybe

2011-01-04T05:16:00.002-06:00

Welllll . . . it is looking like this might just be it.

It.

I was awakened by contractions somewhere between 2:30-ish am, not fully realizing it until 2:51 am, when I started timing. They're coming somewhere in the range of every 10-12 minutes and getting more unpleasant. Like, I'm forcing myself to breathe calmly because I keep on trying to hold my breath. Why...?

So . . . the midwife is on her way (she's got a few hour drive from where she is) and said she is glad I called. I'll probably start waking up Squeeze and my doula friend in an hour or so. Probably. It would be such an unpleasant surprise for all of us to find that this isn't it.

It. You know. Labor.

Meanwhile, I'm hungry. And eating leftover friiiiiiiiiiii-tta-ta.