Thursday, May 26, 2011

Wednesday, May 25, 2011


If, in the past several weeks I have:
  • missed your birthday,
  • nodded off during a conversation,
  • lost my train of thought (repeatedly),
  • been crankier than usual, or
  • tried to steal your lunch,
I apologize. But I can only take half the blame. The other half goes to the new little being who has taken up residence in my belly. You can take it up with him/her sometime this December.


Monday, May 16, 2011

Sleeping beauties

My favorite subject: peaceful, quiet, loveable, quiet, sweet, quiet kids. These photos have been taken over the past several months or more. I just figured out how to pull photos off my phone.


A containment system that works.

(Sorry for the rotation. Trying to fix, but if anyone can give me tips for how to rotate photos on a Droid, it would speed things along.)

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Mothers' Day Gratitude

Grateful for:
  • My beautiful mother and her boundless love.
  • My beautiful children, who opened the door for me to experience that boundless love for myself.
  • Sidamo's beautiful first mother, for giving our boy such a loving start.
  • All the mothers in my circle, who support me, challenge me, and uplift me every day.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Wasted wardrobe

Every day I dress her, but just about every day I find her like this at some point. This girl was born an eon or so too late; she would love nothing more than to spend her days roving and foraging as nature intended.

Her closet overflows with the most beautiful hand-me-downs, but if given the choice (and really, she has opposable thumbs, so she always has the choice) she'll go naked. If forced to wear something, it's usually a variation on this:

 As someone who faked being too short to reach her own clothes until about 3rd grade for lack of interest in picking out her own outfits, I thought I'd have control over my little one's fashion choices for at least a little while longer. Nope. Every day it's the purple skirt, the well-worn tights, and the raggedy polka-dotted fleece (with a hot pink shirt underneath) or it's a tantrum. And I'm learning to pick my battles. Plus, if I can forget for a moment the gorgeous clothes that are going unworn—and ignore every basic tenet of fashion—it's hard to deny the adorability of a little girl in her all-her-own style.