I Love it!

Jan19

I have already irritated countless friends, relatives and strangers at the grocery store with my happiness but I just can’t stop myself. Every time I hear a complaint about the weather it just bursts out and I am compelled to announce to everyone that-

I love this winter!

It’s been cold! Real cold, the kind that makes your cheeks sting, the inside of your nose freeze and your eyelashes freeze together. We live in Wisconsin-winter should be cold.

I love it!

It’s been snowy! Every few days we get another inch or so. I would of course be happier if we got eight inches instead of one but I’m not going to complain because it’s beautiful. Waking up to snow coating the world -it’s a special winter magic.

I love it!

Which brings me to another thing I love. In the winter I can see the sun rise and not hate the entire world. Tomorrow the sun will rise at 7:20. That’s not my favorite time but I do recognize that it is a reasonable time to be awake. Sunrises are pretty when they are illuminating fresh snow and you don’t hate the world.

I love it!

Please don’t hate me for saying so but this winter – I just love it!

The Future

Jan16

When your job is a stay at home mom it’s a bit of a conversation stopper. Too many bodily fluids to be glamorous. Too many people do it to be unique. Too many interruptions from the kids to have a conversation about anything anyway. No matter how important I feel my job is, there are certainly many who don’t actually see it as a “job” at all. And there is no denying that the longer I’m out of the “real” workforce, the more difficult it will become to ever get a “real” job that relates at all to what I once went to school for.

And I’m ok with that.

When I imagine my future, I see visions goats and orchards (and yes I know those are totally incompatible) rather than a 8 -5 work week. But, honestly, I don’t spend much time thinking about it. All my brain power is currently allocated to figuring out what to eat for dinner, how to keep the kids from strangling each other and desperately searching out small chunks of time to nap in.

Little did I know that my eldest does not share my laissez-faire attitude toward my future career. While enjoying a rare evening alone with Ivy, she brought the subject up.

Ivy: “So, what kind of job do you think you are going to do when we all get older and build our own houses.”

Me:” I’m not sure, I might have to wait and see. What do you think?”

Ivy: “Well… you wouldn’t have to get a job. You could just stay home and look at magazines and find things for us to buy in them.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of this. Does she think I need a job? Has Ivy joined the ranks of people who think I’ll be unqualified for anything once the kids were gone and so will be stuck looking at magazines? Does she think I would like to look at magazines all day? Has my child ever met me? And seriously, if I was looking at magazines all day, wouldn’t I be finding things for myself to buy? Unthrilled about this magazine suggestion of hers, I mentioned the possible acquisition of goats. Ivy met my life long wish for goats with her very best six year old version of well-if-you-think-so-but-that’s-actually-a-ridiculous-idea “Okaay…”

Card game over we headed out to get ourselves an ice cream treat. As I pulled out of the driveway, mind still half on my future life, Ivy, still ecstatic to be the only child for the evening, had a new game for us to play.

Ivy: “I know let’s be rock stars!”

Me: “Ok, how do we do that.”

Ivy: “Well, you just have to be really cool.”

Me: “Aren’t we already cool?”

Ivy: “Well… yeah!”

It’s true, I’ve got no blossoming career to look forward to, no dream job that was put on hold while the kids grew up. But at a moment in time where my little girl thinks I’m “really cool” the goats and magazines will have to wait.

And I’m ok with that.

Dinner Time Logic

Jan13

The two new cats have integrated themselves into the family surprisingly well and our evenings have been restored to their former peacefulness marked by a different furry creature sprawled out fast asleep on any available surface.

Until I think about feeding them.

Not when I start scooping food. No, long before that they use their super animal senses to determine that my sneaky herding of animals into different areas had to do with FOOD and suddenly I’m surrounded by the churning chaos of hungry animals.

And then I’m in trouble.

John is still recovering and, lets face it, at this point he’s more like the furry animals sleeping on the couch than an able-bodied assistant. So it’s just me and the hungry hoard. And trying to figure out how to make four-legged dinner time run smoothly reminds me of the logic problems I used to love solving as a kid. You know the ones that said, “If Tommy is wearing blue hat, and Gretta has a cat, what does Mable love?” If I made one for the house it would look like this:

You are feeding Gyspy, the calico kitten, Cassie, the grey kitten, Fiona, the tortoiseshell cat, Storm, the brown hairy dog, and Trip the orange and white spotted dog.

All the animals’ food is in the basement.

The cats can not be blocked out of the basement.

Storm will steal any unattended food.

Storm will take Fiona’s food even if she is there.

Trip will not eat by himself.

The kittens will convince Trip they are feline killers and steal his food.

The dogs will sit and stay and wait.

The cats will not.

Fiona eats different food from the kittens.

Storm and Trip eat the same food.

Trip eats slower than Storm.

The cats eat slower than the dogs.

Cats magically multiply when they are twining your ankles meowing.

It is very difficult to carry two cats at once without bleeding.

Jessie does not want to bleed.

What color is the animal who eats first, and where does it eat?

Hint: Never feed the salamanders while the cats are in the room.

One More Thing

Jan12

At bed time there is always one more thing.

Clara: “Mom I have one more really good thing to tell you. … You know what shouldn’t be in here? Saws.”

Me: “Saws? Do you have a saw in here?!”

Clara: “No.”

Me: “Well, that’s good, we don’t need to worry about it tonight then – goodnight!”

Clara: “But, if there was a saw and it was under the bed…”

Me: “Goodnight!”

There is always one more thing at bed time.

Stone Soup

Jan9

We’ve always involved the kids in the kitchen and while it is true that the new stirrers make giant messes, and the new choppers need extra knife supervision and they all make the kitchen 12 times more messy that it would be otherwise, it’s been mostly worth it.

Because, despite the frustratingly slow rate at which the giant mess and the meal gets made, cooking with the kids is usually an enjoyable experience. And now, all that mess and extra time is starting to pay off. I have girls that can grate cheese and stir without spilling. Kids that peel garlic and chop onions and one girl who is really good at making piles of flour and then slowly transferring the entire pile to her shirt and the floor.

But the best part is that they are now starting to take initiative in the kitchen. Ivy has (with help on the heavy pots) cooked dinner for us, Clara can be found making her own peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Jane can turn a giant pot of perfectly good turkey stock into stone soup.

Mostly worth it.

And Then There Were Three

Jan3

Ever the crafty woman my aunt happened to have two half grown kitties in need of a new home at our family’s Christmas gathering this year.

Gypsy

Did I ever tell you that John loves cats?

John loves cats.

Cassandra AKA Cassie

I know that John loves cats because on the four hour plus car ride home with the two of us, the two dogs, the three overtired, over-sugared girls and the two new cats – he smiled.

A man that can put a purring kitten on his lap and drive in a car full of the likes of that and still smile – loves cats.

I know that John loves cats because as we slowly introduce them to Fiona (our current cat) and the dogs, the new kitties have been living in our bedroom. We heat our house with wood. The wood-stove is not the bedroom. The door between the bedroom and the wood-stove is closed. The temperature outside is what the forecasters call “bitterly cold.” My husband who hates to be cold is still smiling.

John loves cats.

Happy New Year!

Jan1

I lay in the bed, covers chilled from John’s hasty exit, gathering my courage to face the first morning of the new year, thinking it was a good thing I’m not one of those that sees signs in everything.

Ivy had rushed into our room waking us up with a full volume news bulletin on the state of the carpet upstairs. I will spare you the details of the mess in the girls room. Just let me say that it required two adults using a roll of paper towels, a scoop shovel, rubber boots, three plastic grocery bags, a trip to the store for supplies and a steam cleaner to get rid of it.

The dogs must have been having a New Year’s Eve bash of their own last night because clearly one of them is not feeling well.

This morning was not what one would call an auspicious start to the new year, but as I said, I refuse to prescribe to such things as signs and omens. And after all, this year has no where to go but up!

Here’s to a new year; it’s certain to be full of messes and likely to be worth it!