How's she fitting in?

It's been four months since Bella came home.

She's doing just fine.

Look at that. I mean, really. They were made for each other. One loves to dote, the other loves to be doted on. They take turns.

I'm not saying that she's happy with *everything* that goes on around here.

The cats she could do without.

I know it looks like she's hiding her face in the bag in that picture. She is. Skippy Jane Jones is a cranky kitty.

But on the whole, her life is pretty dang perfect. She has a little girl who thinks she's a princess (which is convenient, since *she* thinks she's a princess' dog), acres to chase voles in and a cocker spaniel who can dispatch of the voles she finds, a momma cat who will sometimes deign to play tag with her, another little girl who loves to rough house with her when she's in the mood, a little boy who loves to cuddle with her when he's in his car seat, a big, gruff man who pets her when he thinks noone is looking, and a woman who is secretly making plans to make her a new bag for Christmas because she not-so-secretly adores her (though that plan is not selfless, as it means that the woman won't have to look at the leopard print bag anymore).

And that, my friends, was the longest sentence I've ever written.

I'm that mom.

Impromptu blog carnival inspired by Flo and Ronnie

I'm that mom you see smiling as her kids go *up* the slide at an uncrowded park.

I'm that mom whose son led her to the freezer this morning, got out the ice cream for me, and I put some in a bowl for him.

I'm that mom who goes shopping with one daughter in high heels, fancy dress-up clothes that she's 'improved', and a hat that would put any Derby hat to shame, one daughter in a pirate/superhero mash-up outfit, and a son with painted nails pushing a stroller with his baby doll in it.

I'm that mom who doesn't join in conversations about bedtimes, tv/computer restrictions, food restrictions, or joy that school is about to start back up. But I *am* that mom who you hear talking to her kids about everything so that you may hear my child asking for some cheese because she 'needs more protein' or asking if I can help her find a 'sanctuary' so that she can have some alone time to regroup.

I'm that mom whose kids use ... um ... grownup words. That they may have learned from me. And I may sometimes be proud of them for using them in context. Maybe.

I'm that mom who annoys you by saying 'yes' to almost everything and rearranging her schedule as much as possible to suit her children's wants - because I happen to think they're as important as mine.

I'm that mom talking to her kids instead of smacking them if they display 'inappropriate' behavior.

Speaking of that ...

I'm that mom who will never be *my* mom. Or dad. I'm that mom who will never hit my child. I'm that mom who struggles mightily some days with behaviors and mindsets I was taught about children, with patience, with exhaustion, with patience, with frustration, with patience ... Yeah, I'm that mom for sure.

I'm that mom who thinks that kids are not a subspecies that need to be trained and molded, but little humans who deserve to be respected and loved and appreciated for who they are, right now, not who they might be or will be. I'm that mom that thinks that being my child's friend is an honor, not a failure as a parent.

Hopefully, I'm that mom that will raise children who respect others, believe in themselves, and live happy lives.

That will be my greatest achievement, to be that mom.

And I'm that woman that tries to understand and support you as you are your own 'type' of mom - because we women need that.

At the library.

Lemonade to go.

One of my favorite crafty blogs, Wee Folk Art, posted this common-sense (which means it had never occurred to me) method of taking lemonade to the garden with you. I was all over that. I changed the recipe to suit us. It's simply freshly squeezed lemon juice (with lime or grapefruit juice added in if those are laying around), about 10 drops of stevia, ice and water. Yum. Tons of taste, no sugar.


When I saw this tutorial that the same blog did for making a cover for the quart jar - well, I threw out my nervousness about working with wool and the girls and I jumped in with both feet.

The kids really loved playing with all of the different colors.

And the designs on the girl's jars changed several times. Hannah didn't end up with a smiley face on her final design.


The felting process took longer than I thought it would.

Ains gave up, so Gray took over for her.

Since I've never felted before, it was a steep learning curve. There were a few areas on Ainsley's that had to be stitched together and there's a spot on the bottom of mine that's thin. Hannah's, however, is pretty near perfect. Here they are before they got trimmed and stitched.

(From left to right - Hannah's, Ainsley's, mine)

And after.

Mine

Hannah (she did her own stitching)

Ainsley

And we love them - and use them - as much as I thought we would.

If you're not paying attention...

You know those days that seem like nothing got done? Yesterday was one of those days. There were chores, then play, then a birthday party at a friend's house, then play, more chores, and bed.

If you're not paying attention, it feels like nothing got done. Then I go back over the pictures and we really did get stuff - besides chores - done.

We got to meet one of the coolest dogs I've ever met.

His name's Aristotle. That just adds to his cool factor.

Gray got to play with a different tractor and wagon, which in his book is a day well spent.

Several hours were spent dressing up and rehearsing for a Cinderella play, though the director would get frustrated when her Cinderella would take 'hula breaks'.

And Hannah set up a picnic for the family in the flower garden, complete with a plate tailor made for each person - chips for daddy, peas for Gray, fruit for mother, and (since she couldn't find any chocolate bars) Nutella coated chopsticks for Ains.

We got the good stuff done.

You are my sunshine.

One of three sunshines.
You make me happy, when skies are gray.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away.

How to be 'fashnamole' while drinking.

Because this little one cares so much about being fashionable, even the action of drinking lemonade is adorable.

You must hold your glass a certain way.

It's the fancy way.

Thank goodness for little plastic cups.

How to cool down on a hot day.

My husband called and said "Can you get the kids to come out to the front yard? I'll be by in a few minutes with a water truck." So I told them all to please come help me clean up the yard so that we could get it mowed, which they did. Then he drove by.

It sent them running.

Then he backed up and did it again.
And again.
The older kids put their heads down and headed right into the water.
So he turned it on higher.
She's pretty brave.

It cooled them down fast.

And we got to see a rainbow.

They weren't mad, but when it was time to really clean the yard up, I had a hard time getting volunteers.

Visitors.

A month ago we had a nephew and niece stay with us for a week. This past week we've had another nephew and niece stay with us - one for a week, the other will be staying for an extra few days.

It has been so much fun having two 14-year-olds stay with us. Pure goofy is what they are.

Even a trip to Lowe's Home Improvement Store isn't boring.



And my kids have someone 'vewy fashnable' to help with their fingernails and toenails. Ainsley puts great store in being fashionable.
But these kids these days (said in a very mature I-don't-dance-to-Lady-Gaga-with-them-no-matter-what-you've-heard voice), they just don't have much stamina. I took this picture at 6:30 at night.

It's either that or we just play too hard.

It could be that.

Today's post is brought to you by blueberry bagels.

I wanted to show you what the girls made their dad for Father's Day (Gray slept through the whole project). I found this last year on maxylola. It is the cutest idea, especially for a guy like my husband who loves taking his kids fishing.

Aren't they sweet? Can you tell what they're made of? Paintbrush handles. Brilliant.

So he got breakfast in bed - first time for him - and his yearly fishing license, these fish to hang in his office, and two little girls telling him at random times throughout the day that he was 'the bestest Daddy in the whole wold' (Ains) and 'You may just be the best Father a girl has ever known. I don't know for sure that you are because there are an awful lot of fathers out there, but that's the way I see it.' (Hannah - of course).

Time with just one.

This morning looked like it was going to be rainy, so after chores were done and a few more flowers were planted in the garden, we hung out inside. I got everything ready for our trip to town, Ains worked on her 'superhero play', Grayson practiced making pancakes,

Hannah made everyone radish omelettes.

Everyone liked them but her.

Through a series of funny events, toward the end of the day, Ains and I found ourselves alone, heading back home from town.

We stopped at a scenic overlook for 'the canyon' that Ains loves so much. We haven't been able to stop there for over nine months due to weather or time constraints and this time we had none of that - and she had my undivided attention.

This is something that I always appreciate - unplanned (and planned) moments with just me and one of my children. It's always a revelation about that child and our relationship.

This time, Ainsley was openly happy about us being alone together 'expwowing the wocks'.

It reminded me how lucky I am to have this person in my life.

And the dog's pretty dang cute too.