A Beautiful Morning.

When we ventured outside to let the chickens out this morning, I was surprised to notice that I had not immediately broken into a sweat. The morning was actually ... pleasant, especially in the shade. So, I grabbed a quilt and the kids and I used up as much of that good temperature as we could, before the heat set in.

(This is George, a beautiful grey tabby cat that adopted us. Oh, and she's a girl. Caleb named her. She is amazing with the kids and she's been a really great addition to our little family. Also, she's terrified of the chickens, so they approve.)

Tomorrow I finish packing and my Mom will come in the evening to stay the night, and we leave for the airport early in the morning. It's just me going on this trip with my brother and parents, without the kids or my hubby. It's my dream for them to someday meet my family in Vermont, to play on the beach we visit in Maine, and to see their Grand-Pere's grave, but the time isn't right quite yet. It's just the season. Do you ever find yourself saying that? We say it a lot here--that a lot of things are the way they are because it is simply the season we are in. Seasons change, and we will definitely go together when the season is right--when we are not anticipating the cost of having another child, and when we can plan our own trip together.

I'm sad to leave the kids again, but again feel so blessed to be a stay-at-home Mom. I love that our days are full of each other so when the times come when I do have to leave, my heart is full. I'm grateful to be able to go and celebrate the 90 years my Memere has been on earth, to hug my aunties' necks and to eat lobstah. And I'll be excited to come home, too.

Have a lovely week, friends.

Bon Voyage!

Well, our good ol' country Internet is down yet again, which is actually all in good timing, since I will be taking a slight hiatus which involves a car, a plane, and possibly a train!

Okay probably not a train. It just rhymes with plane. Anyway. Stupid humor.

Firstly! I am Memphis-bound for a packed weekend to celebrate one of my longest lifetime friend's wedding, which involves a mini road trip, lots of girlfriend time, and some black spike heels that will inevitably cause me to fall down.

Then it's back in the car and back to Oklahoma for two days to do laundry, re-pack, and absorb as much time with my husband and the kiddos as I can before I board a plane and fly to New England with my parents and my brother to celebrate my Memere's 90th birthday! Yay! Bring on the memories and fresh seafood. :)

Last night I cried a little thinking of how long (collectively) I'll be away from my own little family, but it makes me all the more thankful that I get to stay at home with the kids every day.

And yay for Face Time. :)

So, friends, have a lovely weekend and week! Stay out of this heat and I will catch you on the flip side!

Have a lovely day!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone when the wireless just ain't workin'.

But If You Have a Baby, You Won't BE The Baby Anymore!

Me: "... and this is Naomi's sippy cup. I heat her milk for about forty-five seconds before bed."

Babysitter (whom we love dearly): "Great! She prefers it warm?"

Me: "Well, no, she drinks it cold just fine, I just heat it up before bed ..."

Babysitter: "Okay! So she's just used to it that way?"

Me: "Uh ... well, she drinks it cold all day ... I guess I just heat it up before bedtime because it's ... bedtime?"

Babysitter: "Okay! No problem!"

I have a complex. I still think my baby is a baby. And she won't be the baby anymore after January.

I will probably keep heating up the bedtime milk until then.

Startled.

On Sunday afternoon, I settled happily onto our couch for a much-anticipated nap. Naomi was napping, my husband was at the store, and Caleb was spending the afternoon with his grandparents, so I stretched out on the cool leather, let my eyes flicker shut, and bam. I was out.

I'm not sure how long I was asleep, but at some point I began to hear a screeching and squawking in my dream. I drifted in that weird in-between stage of sleep and wakefulness before realizing that I was actually hearing screeching and squawking. My eyes popped open as I heard what I'm sure was every one of our chickens, crying and crowing in the backyard. I leapt off the couch, flung the back door open, and beheld a frenzied sight. The chickens were running in circles in a panic. In my just-woke-up stupor I looked back and forth to see what could have startled them. A hawk? A dog? I couldn't see anything, but boy, the girls were freaked out.

As they ran in circles before me, one of the especially ambitious hens took off in a dead sprint, flapped her wings, and shot straight in the air. I followed her with my eyes and saw her determined self flap forward for about three feet, stop, and drop.

Right into our above-ground pool.

My jaw dropped open and I charged towards the pool. Remember, our stairs are not attached for the safety of the kiddos, so I had to hoist my (pregnant) self (in a dress) onto the deck to save the chicken. I frantically looked over the edge to see the poor panicked poultry hysterically flapping, yet floating.

Who knew chickens could float? Hmm.

Anyway. I knew she wouldn't last long in there, so I reached in, swiped her out of the water, tucked her under my arm, and scooted off of the deck. She flew out of my arms and made a beeline for the coop.

Now. Let's just remember that at this point I've been awake for maybe a total of 45 seconds. There was still a small part of me that wondered if perhaps I was dreaming all of this...I mean, they've never acted this way before! But, I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders, walked back inside, and shut the door behind me.

And saw this:

Oh geez.

I did a double-take before realizing I had left the back door open when I ran outside. This smart chicky must have felt a waft of cool air from the house and decided to check it out, and, once inside, decided the cool granite was the perfect place to perch.

Oy.

After much chasing and clucking, the hen ended up back outside, and my exhausted self ended up back on the couch. And then I laughed. Really hard.

Oh, the joys of country living, friends. Oh the joys.

Have a lovely day!

Don't Worry, There's An Abnormal Psych Book In There, Too.

So, this little bookshelf in our front room seems to be quite the conversation starter.

Apparently, storing books in such a backward manner seems a bit, well, backward, and more than once we've had visitors do a double-take while passing by. They typically pause, point at the bookshelf, look at me, and raise an eyebrow. To which I respond with What? I mean, what's the problem? So you can't actually see the bindings on the books! Meh, what's the big deal? I've seen books displayed like this on several home decorating shows and in home decor magazines, so, to me, it makes perfect sense!

Except that it's completely non-functional.

Well, okay, not completely. It looks nice and muted. That's its purpose. The front room is soft and muted and I didn't want bright red and yellow book bindings compromising the overall look of the room. Call me crazy, but that's my reason.

That and the fact that I can't part with books. Ever.

You see, these books are just a sampling of the volumes my husband and I have accumulated over the years. Textbooks, advice books, novels and the like. Our attic is full of them. Our closet is full of them. And we need a place to keep the strays that continuously spill from their storage bins. They aren't books that we read anymore, but they are books that I refuse to sell or give away. So, here they sit, with bindings dutifully facing the wall. Would you like to see?

Here's a gem:

Eek. Just the sight of this book gives me nightmares about t-tests and chi-squared tests. Statistics was not my forte in college. Even with Excel. Sad.

Here are some beauties:

My husband, bless his heart, is very much into thoroughly researching every hobby or subject in which he finds himself even remotely interested. Hence, superfluous books on backpacking, blackjack, real estate investment, and golf. Upside down. Thank you, Blogger formatting.

And, of course:

This book was my right hand man in college. And, I mean, why toss it? Someday someone might come by and ask me to write a paper using APA stipulations, right? I mean, that's totally plausible. Really.

And, lastly:

My old lit book. This poor baby no longer has a cover. But who can lazily toss away such epic stories like Homer's Odyssey or Kafka's Metamorphosis? Not me. If I'm keeping the stats book, you can bet I'm keeping this one.

And, of course, there are many more stuffed on that shelf. Call me a book hoarder. It's just my weakness, I suppose. So, if you visit my home and walk through this room and notice my bookshelf, you will at least know now the somewhat ludicrous reasoning behind its existence. And when you point and laugh, know that if you need to know what to do when the dealer shows a ten or how to navigate through the Himalayas, the answers are right there. :)

Have a lovely day.