kara

One of my favorite things to do is open all the drawers (that I can reach) in Mom’s jewelry chest (that my Great Uncle Skip made!) and pull out all the bracelets. I pick two and put one on each arm. Then I walk around the house with my arms up like this so they don’t fall off. But don’t—and I repeat don’t—stretch the stretchy ones. It’s hard, really hard not to because you can make them stretch so much. But that’s the problem. You eventually stretch them too much and then they break and beads go flying everywhere! (I find this hilarious. Mom, however, does not.) Thankfully my grandma knows how to fix broken bracelets.

“Not on one strand are all life’s jewels strung.” —William Morris

Understand, I’ll slip quietly
away from the noisy crowd
when I see the pale
stars rising, blooming, over the oaks.

I’ll pursue solitary pathways
through the pale twilit meadows,
with only this one dream:
You come too.
—Rainer Maria Rilke, from First Poems, translation by M. D. Herter Norton

Six months

18 months

Happy half birthday my love.

“But what minutes! Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day.” —Benjamin Disraeli

Last week Tari and I loaded our three toddlers into a minivan for a two-day trip to Louisville, Ky to visit our dear friend and former co-worker Maria, her son, Vincent, and her baby-to-be (who is now here!) Nolan.

Whitney and Lauren running in the backyard

Sophie sharing

Sophie not sharing

(Sophie was so good about sharing toys but God forbid anyone sit in one of Vincent’s child-size chairs. She guarded them always and if she was sitting in one and someone else sat in another she would jump up and push—push!—them off. I hope, after two days of her doing this—and getting in trouble for this—she’ll be better about it in the future.)

Getting a mama and twins to all sit and smile at the same time is not easy.

Vincent had a ton of toys for the girls to play with.

Raiding the snack cabinet

I believe Vincent had a superhero-like name for this outfit. Sadly I forget what it was.

Homeward bound: The girls slept until the last 15 minutes or so. Then Whitney and Lauren started crying, followed by Sophie saying “Babies!” sob. “Babies!” sob. “Babies!” sob.

But all in all I think all the kids had a great time with each other—and I had a great time visiting Tari and Maria, too. Maria, thanks again for having us!

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” —C.S. Lewis

“The world is a playground, and life is pushing my swing.” —Natalie Kocsis

“It takes two to get one in trouble.” —Mae West

On a recent Friday night, while the boys did their boy things, the girls got together for a Cookies & Wine party, hosted by Angel. She had raw cookie dough and tons of mix-ins for us to create yummy, personal cookies.

Sophie immediately ran over to Zoey upon our arrival.

But as more people arrived, she had lots more people to play with.

Sophie and Evan

My creations—the chocolate cookie dough with a York Peppermint Pattie crushed into it was my favorite.

Zoey and Angel

Dana

Sophie and Sam enjoying a book, thanks to Karen

“I am still convinced that a good, simple, homemade cookie is preferable to all the store-bought cookies one can find.” —James Beard

“Dogs like to obey. It gives them security.” —James Herriot

I made the mistake of putting Sophie in her plastic shopping cart and pushing her around one time. It was a fun, exhausting afternoon, with several-near topples, Sophie laughing hysterically and Tucker chasing us. But now Sophie’s obsessed with it. No longer does she just want to push it or play with all its fantastic buttons and plastic toys, or dance to the songs it emits, she wants to ride in it, constantly. One day, weary of pushing her and constantly listening to her say “up! up! up!” when she wasn’t in the cart, I decided no more. “Up! up! up!” she said. I held my ground. “Up! up! up!” over and over again. I didn’t give in. “Up! up! up!” “No, Sophie.” I said. “No more today.” This went on for quite some time.

But then she looked at me, and I swear, she was batting her beautiful long eyelashes, and she said, in the cutest voice, “Puh-lease?” I melted like butter. The picture above is the result.

What terrible mothering! What am I going to do when her vocabulary widens? When her requests come with arm strokes and bear hugs and kisses? Or worse, when she cries? Not the tantrum I-hate-you-cry but the even-harder-to-handle I-am-so-disappointed cry. Apparently, I have some toughening up to do.

“The trouble with learning to parent on the job is that your child is the teacher.” —Robert Brault

“Home grown tomatoes, home grown tomatoes
What would life be like without homegrown tomatoes
Only two things that money can’t buy
That’s true love and home grown tomatoes.”
—John Denver, ‘Home Grown Tomatoes’
(from a song written by Guy Clark)