Falling Words

The reason I love poetry
is the crisp, juicy bite of adverbs
Bouncing sassily in your mouth
Roundly and smoothly on your lips –

Saltimbocca snaps of verbs
Pouncing on nouns
Tumbling out of your throat and
Jumping in your ears and
E x p a n d i n g in your mind

Batteries Not Included

Every morning, around 10 AM, the middle school marching band bangs and stomps and squeaks past my house. Tom, at two, is enthralled. He is convinced that his purpose in life is to bang the big bass drum.

And so, we've started music time. We play piano. We pluck, strum, and occasionally bang the guitar. Tom has a blast pounding away on his Fisher-Price plastic drum. He's been known to pick out a tune (albeit more in the style of Coltrane than Mozart)on his rainbow-colored xylophone.

He can play (or at least make a lot of noise on) the recorder, the Irish penny whistle,and our dilapidated harmonica.

So earlier this week, I dug my father's trumpet and my saxophone out of the basement. Tom was very impressed with my improvised version of Happy Birthday, and decided he wanted to give the saxophone a spin. He huffed and puffed, but he just couldn't get a sound to come out.

"Saxophone broken," he sighed. "Need new batteries. No music in it."

Beachlusional

The summer I was six years old, my parents took me to the ocean. I spent the week dipping my toes in the waves and chasing sandpipers. When I came home, I told my best friend that the king of the sea had made me an honorary mermaid princess. I showed her how I swam with my legs crossed at the ankles and pretended to live in castles under the sea.

There’s just something about the ocean — the wide, flat expanse of it — that opens my mind to long-forgotten possibilities.

Keep reading ....

Uncle Donald's

When I found my toddler in a full-on lip lock with a 6-foot fiberglass clown, I realized it might be time to change the family eating habits.

Keep reading at Crunchable.

Well Tickle Me Pink

I've won something! I've actually won something! My good buddy Steph over at Creature Bug sent me some love in the form of a pretty pink award several weeks ago - I've just not been around to put it up. So, thanks, Steph, for thinking of me.

In return, I'll pass the love along to some fabulous women.

First, to Mopsy at Lifenut, since she's the reason I started blogging in the first place. Her writing is so lyrical and inspiring, and she finds time to do it while raising six kids. Amazing.

Next, to Suzanne, because she is so grounded in her faith and makes me think of things I would otherwise overlook. Plus, she's really cool. And her recipes look fantastic.

And finally, to Julie Q. for always, always making me think. Amazing. Like a great college course, only on a blog. Plus no homework. And I never feel stupid for raising my hand in class.

There are so many more women who deserve to be a Rockin' Girl Blogger, but I'll start with these three.

Moving On

There is a 53-foot moving van outside my house, and Tommy, my 2-year-old son, is plastered to the front door.

“Moving van!” he says, trying to press himself through the glass and onto the front porch, where he will be two feet closer to the biggest truck he has ever seen.

I wish I could close the front door and make the truck vanish.

Keep reading at Crunchable.

While I Was Out

Well, I haven't been posting much in the last seven weeks or so. But I have been busy. Doing this:





Amd of course, raising these:

Made Service

"I made!" the Tominator exclaims, examining his handiwork. We have guests coming in 20 minutes to celebrate this day of independence, and my entire first floor is now baby powder fresh, thanks to a toddler and a two-pound can of talc.

On top of each of the 88 piano keys is a carefully arranged pile of powder. The piano bench is smeared with powdery handprints and streaks. The baby's basinett is half-full of powder, and tom even sprinkled the couch, but it actually makes the cream-colored fabric look and smell better, so I can't complain too much about that.

At the foot of the stairs, he has lovingly applied white diaper cream to our dark gray carpet.

The baby is squalling, covered in spit up and demanding his bath. SuperHubby has finally met his archnemisis - the Influenza bug - and is trying valiantly to sleep it off.

Lord help us all.

What I Learned at Dinner Tonight

When we pray before dinner, we close by thanking "the Fadder, Swon, and Howy Spit."

Dinner is best accompanied by "pwo-no" music such as "woa woa boat" which is sung in "wownds."

Tom likes "penny pata" with alfredo sauce and "bwoccoli." He also likes "zoo-kee-nee quash!"

He loves "huggins" but will not say "I wuv you" unless prompted, one syllable at a time.

He's such a boy.

A True American Idol

Just call him Sanjaya ...

FIve

Five years ago, I woke up in an unfamiliar hotel room, no longer a bride. We lounged in bed a good part of the morning, doing what all newlyweds should be doing ... ordering room service.

Our pancakes and eggs cost $57. It was thrilling.

We spent the day at the resort napping, eating at the outdoor cafe and strolling along the edge of the golf course, until we got kicked off by management for not having any clubs.

The next day we boarded a plane bound for the Caribbean, and spent a week in lovely, secluded Grenada, lounging on the beach and exploring rain forests.

I blindly followed my brand-spanking-new husband when he jumped into a red van with four big, dark-skinned native men in it as we were walking to the beach. I watched the beach go right by, and still we drove on. I was sure we would end up dead on the mountain somewhere, but we ended up in the capital city at the end of the long queue of minivans that is considered the bus system on the island.

I learned that to get off a bus in Grenada, you tap on the ceiling and driver stops. Wherever. Even in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

It was before we had a digital camera, and we have not one picture of the two of us together on our honeymoon. I was stupidly, stupidly stingy with film.

My mom asked me if five years ago I could have imagined my life today.

Today I spent the day changing diapers and feeding babies - first the one who can now talk back and tell me precisely what he does and does not like - and second, the one who leave big puddles of milk where ever he goes.

But then SuperHubby made it home from work, bearing these:


And the first thing he did was scoop his sons up in his arms and tell them how much he loves them and how much he missed them during the day. And I can't imagine a better anniversary gift than that.

The Best Mother's Day Gift - Ever

Seth Morgan arrived on Friday after a quick and painless (!!) labor. He weighed in at 9 lbs 6 oz, and so far everyone is doing well.



We came home today, and what a great way to spend Mother's Day - with my two beautiful sons.

39 Weeks and Sick as a Dog

The weather is absolutely glorious. Clear blue skies, trees in full leaf and bloom, birds chirping merrily.

Yet here I sit, swollen ankles and a box of tissues, wishing for all the world I could be the one taking my son to the playground today.

About a week ago, Tom and I both came down with ... something. It acts like an allergy gone wild - itchy eyes, runny nose, itchy ears, cough. Only now my cough has gotten into my chest and is all infected. Yuck.

Tom is fine as long as he's not around me. He plays with Pops and Gramma and has a fine time, but as soon as I enter a room he becomes a bawling ball of snot with a hacking cough. It's lovely.

I can't decide whether I just want the baby OUT, or if I want him to stay in until the pestilence is gone from my household. I am terrified of the baby getting a respiratory disease at such a young age.

I hope the rest of you are having a nicer spring.

Jumping the Gun

Spring has finally sprung in my hometown. For the past three days, it's topped out in the high 70's. Gorgeous, sunny weather. Beautiful things are starting to grow in my garden.

(Dandelions are also starting to grow in my garden, but I'm digging those suckers up as fast as I can.)

I've set all my seedlings on the front porch to harden off. Two new rose plants are waiting in their gallon containers to be planted as soon as the arbor they are to climb is installed.

The only problem is, I know I'm doing too much too soon. It generally is not considered a good idea to plant in my neck of the woods until mid-May. We've been known to get a hard frost well into May. But I just can't help myself. Here's hoping the cold weather stays away for good!

Baby Cages and Easter Chores

What fun holiday celebration would be complete without a baby cage? (If you haven't seen this episode of Scrubs, watch it before calling CPS on me. It's a joke, I promise.)




Also, when you've done your time, you've got to do your Easter chores:



But seriously, we also let him have a little fun. We blew bubbles:


And fell asleep in church:



He slept through the trumpets. He slept through the tympani. But right after this picture was taken, SuperHubby was telling someone that he and Tom had seen a fire truck before church ... and sproing! his little head popped up and swiveled around. It's all about the fire trucks, baby. (And yes, this may be the single most unflattering picture of me ever taken, between the Dumbo ears and the giant belly. Oh, the pride I sacrifice in the name of an easy blog post.)



And examined giant, mutant goldfish.



Happy Easter.

Flower Power

They may be forecasting snow showers all weekend, but gosh darn it, at least my door looks springy.

I took a little rainy afternoon trip to the Michael's yesterday, and lo and behold, all their spring flowers were 50% off. So I made myself a new wreath and had enough left over for two spring arrangements. Not quite as nice as real, but they'll last longer!

Miss Communication

I have been stumped for some time by the Tominator's reluctance to speak. He makes a lot of noise. He makes a lot of very interesting sounds. But speak -- in actual words that we can understand? Not so much.

His friends at playgroup, all boys, all within a few weeks of Tom's age, all speak in sentences. They have no trouble stringing multi syllabic words together in sensible, rational ways.

Tom ... again, not so much. He can identify and sound out more than half the letters of the alphabet - he can even pick them out of text. But put them together to make a word? Not gonna do it.

Well, today I figured out what the problem was. And apparently, it was my problem.

You see, I don't speak Spanish.

Tom does.

We were in the bathroom, getting ready to wash our hands, and Tom looks up at me and says, clear as day, "Agua! Agua!"

So all that nonsense, with the trilled r's that he's always spouting? I guess I'd better get myself some Speak in a Week and figure it out.

Works for Me Wednesday: Garden Starting Shortcuts

As a passionate, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants gardener, I love starting seeds each spring. It gives me such a sense of accomplishment to know that I grew many of my garden plants "from scratch."

The thing is, all the gardening books make seed starting sound SO hard. You have to use special seed-starting mix. Then you plant them in trays watch carefully for each seeding to form two leaves. Then you carefully scoop out each seedling and transplant it into a pot. Then you transplant it again into your garden.

Bah, I say. That's way too much work.

Through trial and error, I've discovered a wonderful system that allows you to plant once, and then transplant straight to your garden when the weather is warm enough.

The secret is to save the little plastic six packs (or larger) that already-started plants come in at the nursery. When you plant your annuals this spring, be gentle when you remove them from the plastic pack. Wash those suckers up and save them for next year. The packs are perfect because they are little self-contained cups with built-in drainage holes.

Then go to a local garden shop or a WalMart and get yourself a couple of plastic gardening trays. They are about 10x15 inches and solid plastic. Here, they set you back about 99 cents.

When you're ready to start the seeds, mix up some regular old potting soil (I use Miracle-Gro) with some peat moss. I make my mix about half and half; the peat moss serves to lighten the soil just a bit to make root development easier on the plants.

Then fill all your little cups with soil, and put them in your plastic trays. The plastic trays are essential to this step. Stick your seeds in the soil, and mist with a spray bottle. Then add an inch or so of water to the plastic trays - so that the cups are sitting in the water. The dirt, and eventually the plant roots, will suck up the water through the holes in the bottom of the cups. Makes keeping the soil moist a breeze.

Cover the whole shebang with some clear plastic wrap and place in a sunny window. You can also use a florescent lamp to encourage growth. I use an old florescent desk lamp that we had hanging around the house.

In about three days, you should see sprouts, and as your plants grow, remove the plastic wrap. Keep watering by adding water to the trays, and let them grow away! You may need to thin the plants in the cups, but that is easy to do by just clipping off the weaker seedlings.

When it's time to put your plants in the garden, you have an easy time of it. Just pop the well-rooted seedlings out of the cups and go to town! It's like having a garden center on your back porch, and that works for me.

Out of the Loop

This just goes to show how far removed I am from popular culture:

My friend went to college with the three ladies who have started this company. They sell fancy underwear that is packaged (with a personal freshness wipe) in a little case that looks like a passport.

Their website lists a variety of uses for such pre-packaged panties, including a "hot date for cocktails after a hard day's work." I had no idea that women needed fresh underwear in order to drink a martini. But then again, I don't drink, so what do I know?

Seriously, I wish these ladies well and hope their business takes off. I guess I just don't get it.

Failure

Today, I ate my leftover stuffed cabbage all by myself. I didn't share my lunch with anyone.

Today, I failed.

My friend Maria stopped by the church unexpectedly around noon today, with her new boyfriend. They are moving in together, if they can scrape up the deposit for the apartment.

I met Maria through the church. She used to come in to help her mother quilt on Thursdays, but spent most of her time visiting with me in the church office. She helped with office work, helped watch my son, even stayed over at my house a few times.

When she went to her senior prom, I volunteered to do her hair and makeup, and made a gift of the cosmetics.

When Maria graduated high school, she had a career all lined up. She was a certified nurse assistant, and had secured a well-paying, health-insurance-providing job at a local nursing home. Things looked good for Maria.

Then she met a man, and followed him around the country. She was fired from her job. Her upright, Chrisitian parents didn't approve, so she moved out.

She's spent the last year living in squalor, subsisting on food donations and soup kitchen meals, wearing clothes gleaned from other people's trashcans.

When she and her boyfriend showed up, I was glad to see them. They were filthy, and I'd just put Tom down for a nap, but I invited them in. We chatted. Then her boyfriend said that he was going to have to pawn the gold necklace Maria had bought him two days ago for his birthday, because they had no food and hadn't eaten today.

"You haven't eaten all day?" I asked. (I can't even imagine no food all day.)

"Well, we haven't been eating very well lately," Maria admitted. She said she's been passing out a lot, but she doesn't know why.

My lunch - uneaten - was in a bag on the counter behind me. I thought about giving it to them, but I didn't.

I looked at Maria with her greasy hair and filthy nails and heard the words of Jesus in my head:

Whatsoever you do unto the least of my people, you have done unto me.

And I did nothing.