In the Heart of my Home

Messy Mudpie Mornings

Many thanks to Ginny for reminding us how much we love mudpies:-)

by Mary Beth

Dandy Day!

The day began with an announcement from Karoline:

"Mama," said she, her fist full of dandelions for me to put into a tiny pitcher, "we have so many beautiful yellow flowers and the neighbors have none. I'm going to pick them all and scatter them in everyone's yard just like Miss Rumphius. Then, there will be beautiful yellow flowers everywhere."

 

As luck would have it, Catherine shared a recipe for Dandelion Syrup on Kind Conversation. So, we suggested that Karoline and her sisters and her friends gather the flowers for syrup making purposes.

 

They spent a glorious couple of hours making their fingers a lovely shade of yellow.

They stirred some "dandelion soup."

They measured until there was enough.

They brought it in to boil and steeped.

We read Miss Rumphius and Dandelions  and The Dandelion Seed and Stars in the Grass at bedtime.

The next day, we added sugar and cooked and cooked.

Dandelion Syrup.

Brings sweet tea to a whole new place:-).

When I tucked Katie into bed that night she commented, "Some people call dandelions weeds. Don't they see the flowers? Everyone should have a girl to show her the flowers when all they see are the weeds."

Everyone should.

 

Daybook from the Coffee Shop

Outside My Window

Is the parking lot. I am grabbing a few minutes of time to myself at Starbucks. So how about that?

I am Listening to

Jazz and the expresso machine

I'm pondering

"If you have to choose between being right and being kind, always choose to be kind." Immaculee Illibigiza

 The more you think about this one, the more there is to think about.

I am Reading

some very sweet emails. I promise to write back, but it might be a few days:-)

From the Kitchen
transitioning the spring menu into summer...grilled maple-dijon glazed pork chops with creamed corn and asparagus were a real hit last week

I am Thinking

about silence and conversation. About boundaries and embraces. About activity and stillness.

I'm having a Kind Conversation about

sweet things to do to let your husband know how much he's loved.

I am Creating

a lifetime of memories with my children. As I approach the twentieth anniversary of being diagnosed with cancer, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the gift of just being here.

On my iPod

Books, not so much. I'm finding that my Kindle reading is not kind to my eyes. I really, really need to give in and go to the eye doctor. My eyes think I'm middle-aged.

Towards a Real Education

I'm finally looking towards next year. The plan is pretty simple and I'm detailing quite a bit in order to create a very big safety net. I think our lives might include some travel so I'm looking to make sure we're portable.

Towards Rhythm and Beauty

I'm working out some new bedtime routines. When I was on bedrest, Mary Beth fell into the habit of putting Katie and Karoline to sleep. The habit continued was Sarah Anne was tiny and then it just became a part of what we do. I'm reclaiming that time with my little girls. They need me. And I need them. And Mary Beth needs some time to herself at the end of the day.

To Live the Liturgy

This week, we are praying the Divine Mercy novena and lulling small children to sleep at night with the chaplet, sung over and over. Still:-)

I am Hoping and Praying

for someone who could be on the brink of things bigger than ever imagined. For grace and strength and wisdom to know His will.

In the Garden
The peonies have shot up. The roses are full of buds. And we had a bumper crop of dandelions (they have a post of their own, tomorrow).

Around the House

I am trying to think creatively as we anticipate Michael's homecoming for the summer. He's going to be interning at USAToday and he'll work in the office and also at home. We're running out of quiet pockets and he's going to need one.

  
On Keeping Home
Totally re-worked my iCalendars. I was inspired by a thread at Kind Conversation to take another look at Mother's Rule of Life and at my homemaking notebooks. I haven't really had time to sit and gut those notebooks and then make pretty pages, but I am working to being very intentional in everything I do.

One of My Favorite Things

Quiet.

Sarah Annie this week

Oh my goodness! This sweet baby has bloomed with the spring:-)! She still won't walk unless she's got a finger to hold onto, but she's talking up a storm. And if you hold her hand, she kicks a soccer ball, too. She loves, loves, loves chocolate and is having serious withdrawal from Easter candy. I am still in shock that a baby of mine even knows what chocolate is. Some things they say about the baby in big families are true.

A Few Plans for the Rest of the Week

There is a whole lot of soccer in the plan book this week. That means I will be in the car a lot. We're also going to head back to Bull Run (sans bluebells) for springtime nature study. There are some tadpoles that need chronicling, among other things.

And I'm going to sleep. I'm planning naps and early bedtimes. And I'm sticking to the plan.

Picture thoughts:

Karoline loves to twirl. This is her very favorite dress and we have to hide it sometimes just to keep her from wearing it every day.

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Little Miss Sunshine

She hears we're going on an outing and she hurries up to get dressed. On goes a carefully considered T-shirt with a crocheted shrug over it, embroidered jeans, pretty socks and sparkly shoes. She pulls her curls up so that they cascade down the back of her neck. She checks the mirror and scampers into the van. We arrive at our destination just a few minutes later. With the baby on my hip and Nicholas following behind, we follow her into the office. "I'm here," she calls out to the receptionist, "but I'm not sick. Nicky's sick. And maybe Sarah Annie. I'm just visiting."

I think the nurse might burst out laughing, but she manages to stifle it. The receptionist gives in to the giggle. The children are weighed and measured and temperatures checked. The doctor arrives. He asks Karoline how she is and is met with a full report of the last week, including every cake baked, a full accounting of Cox Farms and the hayride, and the happy news of her trip to Red Robin, complete with a rendition of the birthday song. Now we're all smiling from ear to ear.

By the time we leave with $200 worth of prescriptions, it's confirmed that Karoline has an ear infection and a fever, among other things. She gathers her stickers (and a few extras for Katie).

"Good-bye. I'll see you later. Thanks for having me!"

I don't think the sun has ever shone so brightly in that office.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Karoline!

The problem with being a writer is that sometimes, words fail. And they fail at the times when I most wish to have them. Today, as I try to capture for you in words the essence of Karoline, words evade me. This child blesses. And blesses. And blesses. Someday, perhaps, I will share the whole story of how she got her name. For today, though, I will tell you that when you ask Karoline her name, she says it with sweet certainty: Karoline Rose. And when you ask her why she is named that, she says, "Because Mommy asked for a heavenly rose and St. Therese sent me!" She is so delighted by the awareness that she was an answer to prayer. I am still so amazed at how glorious this rose is.

Happy birthday, sweet rose of mine.

A Room Where Best Friends Begin Their Forever

As it began to dawn on us that both Katie and Karoline would lose their "best friends" (only friends?) to moves in the same week, Mike grew very protective. He wanted to do something for them. We both really just wanted to protect them from the hurt. Truth be told, the hurt wasn't limited to the little girls. For the last five years, Gracie has been in the space between Katie and Karoline. They don't have any memories of life in this house without her in it.And it's difficult for all of us to remember a time when she wasn't part of the family.

It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I deal with stress by cleaning and organizing my house. My friends remember how immaculate the house was the day the cancer diagnosis came. Mike, however, does not clean when he is stressed;-). His role was different. He instructed me to do whatever it took to create a new place for three little girls to grow up as best friends. He actually said, "I want them to have the perfect little girls' room and I want the room to make them happy." He's a very sweet guy and nothing brings out the sweet in him like his little girls. So, I abandoned my plan not to spend any money. He wanted to make a gift of this room and I was the instrument.

 

The bed was given to us by my mother when we got married. It's queen-sized. Katie and Karoline can both sleep there.The Good Shepherd picture above the headboard was a gift to me from Patrick's godmother. I love the idea of the Good shepherd watching my sleeping babies.

This dresser came from my father's attic.

This one came from my mother's house. We need one for Sarah, but I'm going to scour Craigslist for awhile and see what pops up.

The bookcase came from Costco a couple of years ago.

My stepfather made the stuffed animal shelf for Michael's nursery 21 years ago. It has moved with us three times. And this bookcase was an old white pantry shelf in my in-law's basement before they moved. I painted it in a Home Depot Disney shade called "Invitation to a Princess." Appropriate, no?

The room didn't really need painting but it did sort of look worn. We found stickers at Target and covered all the dings with flowers and butterflies. Tah-dah! Much quicker than a coat of paint.

These curtains were too cute for words, so we picked them up when we picked up the stickers.

 

And then, I saw this rug. Hopscotch? Worth every penny just to watch Karoline try to do it. Worth even more to watch Daddy show Karoline how it's done.

Around this time, I learned that Jessica and I were doing the same thing three thousand miles from one another. That made Mary Beth and I giggle as we continued to decorate.

Above the bed are pictures of the girls in the bluebells. They are just gorgeous in these frames. We're doing one above the chest for Karoline, so there will be three in all, but Target needs a little time to replenish the stock. Costco did a fabulous job with the enlargements, just like Lori said they would.

The little girls helped with all the moving out and they were there as we moved furniture in, but we banished them to the basement while we stuck flowers on the walls and hung curtains at the window. When we invited them back to their new room, they reacted exactly as their Daddy had hoped.

 

The quilt on the bed was actually Mary Beth's. I pulled it off her bed and was delighted by the way it looked in the room.

That left Mary Beth without a quilt and so begins the story for tomorrow..

 

Blessed Among Men

What's for Dinner?

Bikinis and Macaroni!
Yesterday, Karoline asked for "bikinis every day."
Since she doesn't have a bikini, I was a little perplexed.
"You mean you want to wear your bathing suit every day?"

"No, bikinis every day."

"You mean you want to go to the pool every day?"

"No, bikinis every day!"

Great. She's two years old and already we have a modesty and clothing issue.

"Karoline, I don't understand. You want bikinis every day?"

"Yes. I want bikinis and macaroni every day. It's my favorite food for summer, just like you."

Aha. She wants Zucchini and Macaroni! The ultimate summer comfort food. The mere smell of it transports me to my grandmother's kitchen or  the kitchen of my Aunt Lisette, where I am being smothered with love. And pasta. And parmesan.

What could be a better choice for dinner, on this, the anniversary of the introduction of the bikini?

Cinco De Mayo

~~~

~~~

 

Photo credit: Mary Beth

Sarah's First Tea Party

Karoline arranged this tea party on the living room floor unprompted the other day. She's taken to going into the china cabinet and setting a party spread whenever she pleases. I'm not particularly encouraging this as I really do like my china, but I've never been one to lock cabinets and such. So, I've made sure she knows that her tea set is in there. She set this up with great care and then demanded that Sarah come for tea. We found the blue baby seat (oh, Mommy, I saw a pink one and a purple one at Target yesterday; we really should get those for Sarah Annie...) and Sarah was initiated into the sisterhood of magical play.

The Best Day with You Today

 

It's been an old-fashioned week here this week. I blogged Monday morning and set several posts to auto-post. Then, I mostly backed away from the computer, save a couple of quick two-line posts. I've read two novels while nursing and "marked as read" several hundred posts from Google Reader without reading them. This was not a plan, but rather a serendipitous constellation of events--both happy and distressing. The distressing events all centered on my dear, sweet husband who has badly injured his back and has needed me to help him do the most basic of tasks.

 

It's been a strange bedrest role reversal.I am rarely at the computer when he is home and he's been home all the time. I wrote a column and sent it to the Herald and it felt like old times, when that was all I published regularly. Then, I gathered my precious children and headed outside. I now understand those pangs of guilt Mike felt when he left me alone in our room on beautiful days last fall to take our children on grand adventures.

I have spent the week adventuring on the banks of Bull Run and Cub Run, in old familiar places and sunny new spaces.I've heralded a new baseball season and a new soccer season. I am sunburned and tired to the bone--in a very good way. 

I sat in dappled sunlight with three good friends today. We watched our children play together and remembered seasons past when the big kids were little enough to skinny dip and the little kids were just-hoped-for whispers of fervent prayers.I smiled and smiled and smiled. In all honesty, the days defy words. I'm so glad, though, that for part of the time, Lori Fowlkes joined us with her camera (do click--it's a sweet shot). Oh, what pictures we will share in the next few weeks! For now, Mary Beth has some pictures from our family camera, set to music she thinks captures the day just right.

Guess who found the scissors.

I think I'm going to cry.

Here Comes the Sun

It started September 23rd. That was the first day of bedrest. For six weeks, I was confined to my house, my room, my bed. And then, there was a baby. And I was confined to the hospital, to the well-worn path to the NICU. We brought that sweet baby home. And the doctor said solemnly, "Keep her inside, away from crowds, and out of public places until the end of flu season. Probably late March." I tried not to cry. I reminded myself that I am an introvert, a homebody. I got to know the extraordinary ministers of the Eucharist. I counted my blessings and there were many.

But, slowly, I started to feel it creep in. The cold. The loneliness. My walls grew closer around me. The baby fussed. The big kids acted needier than the baby. I resolutely told myself a hundred times a day that this was not postpartum depression. We hit rock bottom.

A Package arrived in the mail. A lovely Package. A Package that made me smile to see the name in the sender's corner and brought tears to my eyes when I saw what it contained. It was a hat and booties--a darling hat that fit just perfectly. A hat with sweet hearts over baby's ears. Ah, but I sighed. We never go anywhere. And an urgent need made itself known. I had to get out of this house with the baby. I had to go somewhere worthy of The Hat.

Yesterday was one of my top five worst homeschooling days ever. And I can't even think of what the other four are. As I went to sleep last night, I remembered The Hat. I told Mike that I was taking the children to Bull Run. Bull Run--Home of the Bluebells--is the place where we go every year to herald the spring. It's the place where I am happy and relaxed and content just to be. It's our springtime. Gently, the love of my life reminded me that it is still February. Doesn't matter. I have The Hat. I had to be at Bull Run.

The day dawned a bit gray and windy, but not all that cold. The forecast was for rain by noon. No bother. I was up early. I had The Hat. I told the children the plan. Nicholas balked. He doesn't like rain. It's not a typical "not like," --it's sort  of a "thing" with him. It's a really big deal "not like."  I wasn't going to fight it. I told him he could stay home with Patrick. Christian had to go to art.No matter. This wasn't about them. It was about me. And my baby. And my place. And the Hat.

We took the familiar road and parked at a familiar place. We hiked in to "our spot," all the while noting how gray it all seemed. The landscape had changed. The log I posed the children on every year had  decayed to a point where no one could sit there. Right next to it, however, a new tree had fallen--bigger and sturdier and longer. "Just perfect," Katie declared. "There are too many of us now for the old log anyway."

Several trees had fallen. The top of their favorite climbing tree was now laying across the river. I thought of those windstorms last month, the tree that fell and claimed the life of a beloved pastor. I heard trees creaking around me and branches snapping in the not too distant distance. Good thing Nicholas stayed home, after all; he would not have enjoyed this time at all. We tried mightily to find signs of spring. There were a few small buds and some tiny shoots, no signs of the bluebells yet, though.

I snuggled my sleeping baby (she sleeps?) and breathed deeply of the fresh air. Oh! how this place speaks to me, even in its grayness. I thought of how much I missed it last fall, when the leaves were changing color, and my only glimpse of fall came in my inbox through the kindness of a friend's photos. I remembered my long talks with God and how begged him to grant me many springtimes to hang out with my children in the woods. I thought about how much I wanted to walk that trail with this baby. I breathed gratitude. And hope.

I just sat there, nibbled on pistachios, and watched the delight of my two-year-old as she saw this place anew.   Marveling at the familiarity and the changes, I understood that this place is ever old and ever new. My children looked different to me in the natural light. They were sweet and innocent and silly and fun. The baby slept soundly on my chest, warm and loved beneath The Hat. My head cleared. My shoulders relaxed. I had faith that I could get safely to the end of winter and reach confidently for the holiness of spring. Recalling that God has written two books, Scripture and nature, I resolved to read them both this Lent as my soul stretches and my face turns towards the Son.

Why I Think Arranged Marriages Might Actually Work

Karoline, older and wiser this year, is still just as tickled with her long distance beau's Valentine as she was last year. Surely, there's a future in this.

He Hangs the Moon

A few months ago, Mary Beth read Karoline a story about the moon. Karoline, who is two, was enchanted. Not long after the covers of the book closed, she declared, “I want the moon.” She was very matter of fact and saw absolutely nothing exceptional about this desire to possess the moon.

Every night, on his way home, my husband calls to see if we need anything. He’ll stop at the store and pick up a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk or … the moon? Karoline answered the phone when he called that evening.Read the rest here.

Happy Birthday Karoline Rose!

***

The birthday girl and her godmother

With a lot of help from a faraway friend, Mary Beth decorated for a Zoo Train birthday!


The Centerpiece


All our animal friends are here to celebrate!


Mary Beth baked an apple pie. Apple pie is our birthday tradition for Karoline. By the time we've celebrated three birthdays in the week of hers, we're ready for a break from cake.



Stephen is ready to party.


I think that's Katie behind the mask.


Nicky is an elephant.


That monkey has such lovely curls!


Happy Birthday to You!
The doll on Karoline's lap is a gift from Christian. Karoline is a big fan of Annie, the musical.  The baby's name is "Anything-but-you!"


These sisters are birthday buddies. They've had a very sweet week.


That's her third serving of...whipped cream. Same piece of pie, though.

This birthday party came to us in a big box from the Blogging Birthday Queen of the Universe.  Many, many thanks to Charlotte who truly made Karoline's day a treat.

Sunday Soccer Sister

by Mary Beth

   

Small, Sweet, Summer Treasure

Why Don't You?

I ran into an old acquaintance at a party last weekend. It had been about a year since I'd last seen her and I was delighted to meet her again. She's always been a warm woman, who seemed to love to play with my babies. So, I was a bit — ahem — surprised at our exchange.
"You look tired," she said.
"Ah, I am," I replied with a wink. "I'm getting  kind of old for this." I rubbed my growing belly.
"How old are you?"
"Forty-two."
"Why don't you take the pill?"
Gulp. Um. My well-rehearsed treatise on the Culture of Life and openness to God's gracious goodness completely evaded me there in the kitchen between the bar and the buffet.
"It's against my religion." That was lame, I thought,  as nothing else sprung from my mouth.
"Well, then why don't you just tell him to stay away? Tell him you'll come find him when you want him around. Tell him to leave you alone." Read the rest here...

Life's a Bowl of Cherries

Our cherry picking day is long gone; I love these photos and couldn't share them because I was having trouble uploading, so I just waited on the whole post. It was a beautiful Virginia summer day, not at all typical weather-wise. There was almost no humidity and it wasn't terribly hot. I think the folks at the orchard easily could have opened the groves for picking about five days eariler. We arrived to find far too many cherries molding on the trees. We were careful to instruct our little pickers (and the pbig ones too) about which cherries to pick and which to leave alone.  The toddlers were indiscriminate and Marisa and I found ourselves devoting most of our time to pitting cherries for increasingly stained one-year-old girls.It was interesting to see how the children's personalities emerged in the cherry trees. Gracie stood timidly in front of a tree and was helpless to do much of anything unless Katie did it first and then pushed Gracie along. Katie scrambled up trees fearlessly (a little too fearlessly) and was much more interested in the challenge of the climb than filling her bag. Ever the fashionista, she was pleased with her cherry-printed shirt and more than happy to pose for picture after picture. She did her fair share of eating ,too.
Nicholas was all seriousness and filled his bag with methodical precision. Knowing him, he probably counted cherries as he went.  Stephen and Sam made it a friendly competition. They climbed tree after tree and filled bags until they literally burst. The big girls wandered off to find a single tree of their own, climbed up with ease, and happily spent the entire time picking and chatting. Chatting and picking. Ever so happy to be outside on a glorious day, happy the cherries were ripe and sweet, happiest of all to have time in a tree with a kindred spirit. And the teenaged boys--they were all business. They helped Gracie in and out of trees and picked her cherries for her. And they managed to fill some bags of their own. I picked a fair number of cherries, but my favorite time of all was sitting beneath a tree, chatting with my own kindred spirit friend and snuggling a sweet, sticky wee girl who couldn't get enough of the whole experience.