Once again, a wonderful Saturday with wonderful friends.
“What I say is that, if a man really likes potatoes,
he must be a pretty decent sort of fellow.” —A. A. Milne
kara
Winter Hat Season
taken November 16, 2011
“Under my hood I have a hat.
And under that
My hair is flat.” —Karla Kuskin
Sophie, the Butterfly (Sort Of)
It’s a good thing I don’t paint faces for a living.
“Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere.” —Carl Sagan
Pop Pop’s Birthday
Happy birthday, Dad. I love you!
“There’s something like a line of gold thread running through a man’s words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.” —John Gregory Brown
Sophie’s Preschool Pictures
Sophie attends Country Hills Montessori three days a week in Fort Thomas. Robert White of White Photography, a CHM parent and professional photographer, took the class pictures this year. I love this one.
This one makes me laugh. This is the face she makes when you say, “smile.” Her Great Aunt Susie, by the way, made her dress. When she and her family visited this summer, Susie asked Sophie what kind of dress she wanted. Sophie immediately said “a dress with pink polka dots that swirls.” And oh did Susie deliver. This dress is the most twirliest dress I have ever seen. Sophie loves it. (Thank you.)
Here’s her class!
“Children are human beings to whom respect is due, superior to us by reason of their innocence and of the greater possibilities of their future.” —Maria Montessori
Southern Momentum Guest Post: The Season of Innocence
Today an essay I wrote last year, titled “The Season of Innocence,” is featured on Southern Momentum. If you missed it last year, you can read it again, here. Thank you, Stephanie, for sharing it.
“The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.” —William Butler Yeats
The Parent du Jour
Today I’m featured on The Parent du Jour, as part of their Once Upon a Mom series. You can read my contribution, which includes a delightful story about pulling dry pasta out of Owen’s eyeball, here. And check out the other parents’ stories on the site, too (including my good friend Brian Klems, of The Life of Dad). The site shows how different—and similar—we, as parents, really are.
Thank you, Lisa and Steve, for the feature and taking the time to put together such a wonderful site.
“It’s not only children who grow. Parents do too. As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours. I can’t tell my children to reach for the sun. All I can do is reach for it, myself.” —Joyce Maynard
Beautiful Nora
Every time a friend of mine has a baby, I post about it. (Search “welcome” for all the new beautiful babies I’ve had the pleasure of holding.) It occurred to me, only today, that I never wrote an official welcome post for Nora Helen Estridge, born July 5, 2011, 6 lbs. 15 oz., 20 in. Her parents, Dara and Mike, waited for and wanted her for a long time and I couldn’t be happier for them.
I was unable to see Nora when she was first born because of the awful c-diff (which I’m still on antibiotics for) but now, when on antibiotics, I’m able to hold babies whenever I want to. And lately, I want to. Often. I don’t really want another baby (and we’re not having another one) but now that my boys are toddlers, in every sense of the word, something hurts—physically hurts—when I hold a baby or have the rare pleasure of letting one sleep on my chest. I realize you can’t experience that forever, personally, but it makes me realize, really realize, how rare and fleeting that time was. Yes, there was sleep deprivation and projectile vomiting and unreliable hormones and nonstop crying but there was also this tiny, amazing human being who fit, toes at belly button, head at neck, perfectly. I miss that.
But enough about me. Back to Nora. She’s perfect. And her parents are amazing. She’s lucky—very lucky. Dara and Mike, I’m so sorry this is so belated, but I couldn’t be happier for you. You deserve her. And she deserves you. My most sincere congratulations.
“Where did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the Everywhere and into here.” —George MacDonald
This Is What Our Children Do When We Vacuum
Every. Single. Time.
“A child is a curly dimpled lunatic.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson
A Holiday Bazaar
Early November my mom, Sophie, Owen and James drove up to Lewisburg, OH to attend the annual holiday bazaar at Trinity Lutheran Church.
My grandma (on the right) is very active in the church and did a lot of work for this event, as she does every year. Like most small-town church holiday bazaars, the homemade food was delicious and inexpensive (when you checked out there was a bowl of free apples, which I’m sure was from someone’s backyard). You could buy everything from candles and homemade fudge to doll clothes and jewelry at the bazaar. I even found a beautiful silver chain that reminded me of my grandma’s timeless style and warm heart. I came home with a small, handmade wooden stool for the children to use in our upstairs bathroom and a handmade wooden bench, which is perfect as a coffee table in our living room. The man who made it built a wooden cross for the church, in memory of my grandpa. And I think of that every time I prop my feet up on our new coffee table.
I love the church holiday bazaar, no matter the town. I love that everyone knows everyone and that it can take 20 minutes to walk 20 feet from all the “hellos” and “look how much they’ve grown!” and that by buying these goods, most handmade from neighbors (or, in this case, my grandma’s neighbors), you’re supporting those who surround you, in every sense of the word.
“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men.” —Herman Melville