I see many sunburns in my near future (well, hopefully they'll eventually just be suntans).  I finally figured out a way to successfully play outside with Ben in our yard.  For those of you who haven't been to our house, half our lawn is level, and the other half is steep hill.  It is also unfenced, and on the corner of our street, with a decent amount of traffic.  Playing outside with Ben for me usually amounted a lot of running, catching, "no no's," and bouts of very vocal confused and frustrated opinions (from Ben – mine was all inside my head).  My mom jokingly said I just needed a tether for Ben, so he can play relatively unhindered, without rolling down the hill onto the street under someone's moving car.

Well, actually, I found one, and it worked.  We played outside successfully for two hours yesterday.  With Ben's new favorite toy.  The hose.





He only went out so far as the hose, with its slow trickle of water, reached in the yard.  I brought out all kinds of toys to play with, but the hose was it.  For two hours, he watered the bushes, the fountain, the lawn, the flowers, the rocks, his bucket, and himself.  This time I'll remember to put sunscreen on myself and not just him, and I'll bring myself out a chair and a magazine.  Watering things with the hose captured my interest for only so long…


The new shoes of summer.  Is it just me, or did we totally skip Spring??

Two Today

(At about 2 weeks)

Two years ago today, I remember trying for twenty-six hours to bring my son into the world, only to have a stranger come in and do it in under 30 minutes.  I turned my head, and the first view I had of Ben was him lifting himself up on all fours on the table as the nurse did those things nurses do when babies are born.

(at about 3 months)

 I remember expecting him, as a newborn, to be tinier and more fragile than he actually was.  At almost 9 1/2 pounds, he was just barely under my approved weight limit for what I could safely lift and carry for the next 6 weeks. 

(presiding over The Weed Patch)

Driving down to Colorado with my new son, my husband, and my in-laws was one of the most challenging experiences of my life, but one that has given me some of the best memories.  In two years, I have learned about multi-tasking, sensory overload, self-sacrifice, what real messes are, how to clean in record time, and the importance of personal devotional time and coffee. 


And family.  I don't know how single moms do it.  I wouldn't have made it this far without our parents, sisters, brothers, aunties & uncles, best friends, new friends, grandparents, and of course, my husband.

(First pool experience)

Benjamin is two today.  He knows the entire alphabet by sight, and can name over half the letters.  He loves ducks and books, and of all his toys, he plays the most with his ball and Mr. Potato Head. 

(The discovery of Toilet Paper)

Music is by far his most favorite thing in the world, second only to going outside.  His favorites are Loreena McKennitt and the fiddler from the group Celtic Woman.  Shortly after walking (at about a year), he began running, then jumping, and spinning. 

(First Sprinkler)

He has danced to music ever since he was able to bounce on his tummy.  He is strong, stubborn, intelligent, and has his own mind about things. 

(With Daddy)

He gives me a bad headache just about every day, which I get over during his long stretches of (thank you Jesus) sleep.

(First Lawn Mowing)

And I love him more than anything else in the world.


Happy Birthday, Baby!

Thoughtful Friday 14


"Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumble bee doesn't know it so it goes on flying anyway."  –Mary Kay Ash


Journal Day

Today is a day to journal.  If you are a journaller, you know what I mean.  If you aren't I encourage you to consider jumping on the bandwagon.


This is a journal I made my last year at Artfest.  I was over 8 months pregnant, in a tiny room at Fort Warden in Port Townsend, over-filled with 6 foot tables.  I literally couldn't maneuver in there at all.  But it didn't bother me, as I had great fun in the class.  Traci Bautista was teaching us to make great messes with scraps of various papers, most of which was from my recycle bin, along with inexpensive liquid watercolors and markers of all kinds.


That was over 2 years ago now, and I still had yet to write in the
resulting book.  Nothing really seemed to fit, and it still really
doesn't, but I'm tired of my poor little book being all dressed up with
nowhere to go.  I have been experiencing some dark times of late, and though I am a journaller, I haven't
ever really been one to write out all my unromantic, depressing worries
and sad thoughts.  I guess I assume someone will read my journals someday, at the very least after I'm dead,
and I don't want them to think I had a morose personality.  Despite all this, however, I have been putting pen to page, deciding that my own
journal therapy is more important that what people think of me
(especially since the only ones reading these will probably be those
who knew and loved me anyway).  Perhaps the bright cheery colorful
pages will have a positive effect on the words I write?  We'll see I
guess.  But either way it is nice to be scribbling again.