Today started off really well. Actually, no. Today started off with a whining puppy who I could hear from our room downstairs. Listening to a puppy whine is like hearing a baby cry one of those pathetic cries – you. cannot. ignore. it. Did I mention this was at 6am? On a Sunday? Not unlike a baby, Charlie is so damn cute that I can’t even be annoyed – he was just so happy to see me.
So after that, the day started off really well. I took my oldest daughter for a looooong slow run. You can find out a lot about your daughter’s world on an 8 mile run. I can’t begin to describe how much I treasure the time I get to spend with my children one on one. We talk about life, we take in the nature around us, notice the people who are also out and about. We saw the most incredible bird – it was small, like a sparrow, and black and the orange of a safety vest. We joked that he was the bird crossing guard. We finished up where all runs must finish: the doughnut store. A couple of iced teas, coffee rolls and a yogurt later, all seems right with the world.
Here’s what I’ll be working on if it’s nice out:
We will definitely be planting tomatoes and zucchini, and some kind of bean. I’m not sure what else. The beds are 4′ x 8′, so not huge. Any suggestions?
Here’s my rainy day project:
Umm. Yeah, it’s a mess. I really need to thin my fabric collection – maybe set aside some things for the garage sale. Yes. THAT.
Right now, tomorrow’s forecast calls for a 30% chance of rain.
Rain or shine – tomorrow will be a busy day!
It’s been incredibly rainy here for the last, oh, three months. Central New York is certainly known for it’s schizo weather, but even for us, this winter has been interminable. And now that it has finally warmed up, it’s been raining almost every day. Honestly, it’s enough to make you a little crazy.
Baseball started two weeks ago. The entire first week was rained out. The second week was spent in the cold drizzle. Today was baseball like it should be.
Flapper loves baseball, although he spends a great deal of time chit-chatting in the outfield. I think he gets that from me.
Charlie is trying to eat the puppy reflected in our headboard. Unsuccessfully, so far.
I have this overwhelming urge to get rid of things, to simplify. I’m not sure where it came from because previously I was a “I might use it someday” type of person. My family is made up of both types: keepers and throwers. My mother is a thrower. My childhood dollhouse? Gone. Shirley Temple doll? Gone. 99% of my schoolwork? Gone. Ironically, if I make a move to get rid of a piece of the kids’ artwork now, my mother will look at me like I’m completely bananas.
Then there was my grandmother. She lived through the Great Depression and she was an incredible survivor, which perhaps explains her “keeper” tendencies. When we moved her from her Brooklyn apartment in 2003, where she had lived for almost 60 years, we found an incredible amount of things she had saved – some sentimental, some not. Some items were clearly past their prime – for example, the dozen or so plastic shower caps whose elastic was reduced to hard, crunchy crumbs. She also kept the favor, still wrapped, from my parents’ wedding in spite of the fact that they had divorced almost 27 years prior.
…when you don’t make the bed in the morning.
We recently added a Labrador puppy to our family, bringing us to a total of three dogs. Right now Charlie sleeps in his crate until he’s housebroken. The other two dogs, Nikki and Bella, sleep in our king size bed. On the one hand, they certainly keep my feet warm in the winter but on the other, I end up perched on the edge of bed with barely any blankets most nights.
Is it me, or are the expectations on mothers these days just a touch too high? I don’t know about you, but I don’t have enough hours in the day to sew my kids’ clothes, cook a mouth-watering meal, maintain my organic garden, make a fabulous craft from three rocks and a pom-pom, do charity work and stay in great shape. If you do, you GO girl! If you don’t, you’ve come to the right place.
I’m a mother to three great kids, wife to a great guy, lover of Labrador retrievers and a dabbler in most other things. I plan to share my world and opinions with you here. Expect to see a ‘real’ world that includes laundry, dog poop and a variety of good intentions gone awry. You’ll either be able to relate, or feel awfully superior.
Optimist. Pessimist. Half full. Half empty. Whatever.
I prefer to think of myself as a realist. With a vivid imagination. And a sense of humor.