The evening before Ivy’s day off school she did some serious thinking and planning.
Then she wrote up her schedule and posted it on the fridge.
In the immortal words of Calvin and Hobbes, “The days are just packed.”
Happy 29th Birthday Calvin and Hobbes!
There are days, many days, when the children are the cause of 95% of the chaos and frustrations of the day.
But now there are days, rare days, that life is the cause of 95% of the chaos and frustrations of the day and the kids help put it back together.
Two years ago, I never would have thought it possible.
Today, it’s amazing.
A Saturday occasional occurrence.
A single photo – expanded – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple moment.
Containing the kind of stretching toes, reaching fingers and determination that I want to pause, savor and remember.
“Uh-oh.”
It is the phrase I have attempted (with help from Jim & Charles Fay and twenty billion reminders from John) to teach myself. It is the phrase that insistently lets the kids know they are in trouble yet gives me time to think what to do next. It is the phrase that can stop my mouth from uttering ridiculous edicts before my brain has a chance to think about them. It is the phrase that keeps me from saying, “That’s it! You are never getting a glass of water again!” when confronted with a mess purposefully made with a glass of drinking water. It is a good phrase.
But now I have a problem. Jane is beating me to the “Uh-oh.” Now I walk in a room and I don’t even have to scan for issues, I just listen. If I hear “Don’t say ‘Uh-oh’ Mom! Don’t say “Uh-oh’!” I know there is trouble in the making.
Yes, I can hear you laughing from here and you can stop anytime now. Because seriously. Seriously. Does she really think she can get away with all sorts of trouble just by talking fast and looking cute!?! Talk about an attitude guaranteed to make a mothers blood pressure spike!
After all, that’s my line! I get to say “Uh-oh!” I get to use that to pause, and breath, and refrain from issuing crazy threats or giving her to the next delivery man that knocks on the door. I say “Uh-oh.” Don’t be stealing my line Jane- I need it and unless you want to be shipped to Abu Dhabi ala Garfield, you do too!
Furthermore, frantically repeating “Don’t say ‘Uh-oh’ Mom! Don’t say “Uh-oh’!” while continuing to do the offending activity lets me know, not only, that she knows that she shouldn’t be doing whatever it is she’s doing but also that she thinks she can get away with continuing what she’s doing right in front of me if she’s a fast enough talker.
But the really big problem is that Jane is awful cute and listening to her panic as she tries to finish getting into trouble is, admittedly, pretty hilarious.
Which means that it’s true. She can totally get herself out of trouble and keep her mother smiling if she’s a fast enough talker.
I’m so doomed.
A Friday ritual.
A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 
If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.
Inspired by SouleMama.
Jane is in the final phase of potty training. If she were a puppy it would be the time when they occasionally have accidents in the house and it’s usually your fault. Because even though they ask to go out most of the time sometimes they are just too distracted so you still have to be the one to pay attention or you’ll have another pee spot on the carpet. 
But I was talking about potty training kids, Jane in particular. So I should say that this is the time when she occasionally has accidents and it’s usually all my fault. Because even though she goes all by herself most of the time, sometimes she is just too distracted so I still have to be the one to pay attention or I’ll have another pee spot in a terrible and ridiculous place.
Which is the main way potty training children is different than housebreaking dogs. (That and kennels. I hardly ever use kennels with the kids.) When a puppy has an accident it pees on the carpet. The only time it won’t pee on the carpet is when it goes on a rug but this will only happen if the rug is so large that it won’t fit into the washing machine. A phenomenon that is annoying but at least predictable.
Jane, has accidents in more unusual places. We hadn’t had one in two days until she crawled inside a locker at the pool. Cleaning carpets has none of the embarrassing factors that weaving through a mass of moms and kids in various states of undress with gobs of pee soaked paper towel does. And for that, I love puppies.
Another two days accident free and Jane, dissatisfied with the five unoccupied chairs, crawled onto the dining room table to play with the Legos. And then flooded it all. Pee on the table. Pee on the centerpiece. Pee on the chairs. Pee on the Legos. Pee on Jane. No pee on the please-sign-up-to-bring-stuff-to-the-fall-party-sheet Ivy brought home from school. A puppy would have peed on the carpet and then eaten that paper, saving me lots of trouble. And for that, I love puppies.
And yes, of course, I love Jane too, even when she pees in really terrible places. (I’m not even going to tell you about the poop – your welcome for that.) I was even going to put pictures of her in this post but then I was having too much fun finding puppy pictures!
When it comes to conversations of Clara’s antics, it always seems to end in one or the other of us shaking our heads while saying, “That girl…”
That girl has already accumulated more black eyes than I ever have.
That girl cries over the slightest injustice but doesn’t bat an eye at bloody injuries.
“Hey Mom!” Clara shouts, “Bet you didn’t notice…. THIS!” And she pulls up the leg of her pants and thrusts her foot out to show me the scratch on her ankle complete with blood smeared half way down her foot.
Me: “No, I didn’t!”
Clara: “Yeah! – Can I have a band-aid!”
Me: “Sure.”
Clara: “OK, I’ll get it!”
And off she runs, leaving me shaking my head and thinking “That girl…”
That girl is the best peacemaker in the family.
That girl has ideas and she can entertain herself with anything.
One day after seeing Jane and Clara engaged in overly suspicious activities with their bedroom window, I came running upstairs to kill the fun.
Me: “We don’t throw water out the window! “We don’t throw anything out the window!”
Clara: “How about rocks?”
Me: “What about rocks?”
Clara: “Can I throw them out the window?”
That girl…
That girl is my go-to “finder” of lost objects.
That girl often has to do with why they are lost in the first place.
Clara hands me a pair of poultry shears that she “found” and drops it between our bare toes.
Me: “Wow, that made my toes scared, how about you!?”
Clara giggles: “No, I knew where it was going to land.”
That girl…
That girl climbs trees and jumps out of them.
That girl can climb straight up a rope with just her arms.
That girl loves the beehives.
That girl collects her own duck eggs for breakfast.
That girl is never bored.
Yes, our conversations about Clara always end with one of us shaking our heads with half smile, as we say, “That girl…” with more than just a touch of pride.
Happy fifth birthday Clara!
Our favorite doggy friend Digby was here for a few days.
We started watching him just over a year ago…
…he’s bigger now!
But that just makes him extra lovable!
A Friday ritual.
A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 
If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.
Inspired by SouleMama.
Early this spring the girls were with me in the greenhouse helping to plant the celery seeds.
They had their hands in the dirt as we transplanted the young plants into the garden and were eager to man the hose and help water them through the early summer. Once the celery was ready to be harvested they took over chopping it all by themselves so that I could freeze it for this winter.
But, despite what the “experts” say, I’ll bet you a doughnut they won’t touch it when they see it floating in their soup this winter.
Behind the Willows 