The first of many Ohio posts

Last week we visited my father at his B&B in Amish Country, Ohio. We were there last year too, but this year Greg came with me—as did our new (and awesome) camera, so I have pictures aplenty. Pour yourself a nice drink, get comfy, and enjoy.

Let's kick off with some gratuitous cute photos.







My dad, as you can see below, has found his own personal heaven on these four rolling acres in the middle of hilly, Amishy, farm country. He has a prolific garden, generous neighbors, a doting wife, and a new horse named Sam (you'll meet him soon).


The guests at the B&B seem to love the hospitality and the idyllic setting, and I can't blame them. We had a lovely time catching up with family, feeding animals, taking scenic drives, and enjoying the simple pleasures (yes, that's the name of the B&B) of farmy, Amishy life.

In fact, I came home and immediately (re)started researching urban chicken keeping. Greg immediately (re)started researching arguments against urban chicken keeping. Go ahead, pick sides.

Welcome, littlest cousin

Scarlett has a new baby brother, and he's beautiful. Name is not yet official, so I'll hold off on sharing.

So teensy! I can't believe Nora was ever this size. Or Greg, for that matter.

Sidamo was enamored. Nora less so—she was careful to keep herself between the baby and my boobs at all times, just in case.

Baby boy with Pappy.

Bro/sis bonding on the ride home.

Snake boy

We went to a neighborhood festival this weekend, and Sidamo wanted to get his face painted. We've only done that once before, and he HATED it, so I was surprised that he wanted to give it a try again. I'm glad he did, though, because look how flipping cool this is. He chose "Serpentine."



A little creepy, no? Turns out he thought so, too—he couldn't sleep at naptime because he was afraid of his face. Poor kid.



Baby sister loved it, though. This is one of their favorite activities lately: Walking together holding hands. Kinda ridiculously cute.


Not our best family photo, what with Sidamo's disguise and mama's tear-streaked face. We made the decision this weekend to put Daisy down after our second very, very difficult night in a week (she's an 11-year-old Great Dane with spinal degeneration). We decided we'd spend one more week together and have our vet come over this coming Saturday to help us say goodbye. But apparently Daisy heard us make the call, because she has caught a second wind and is as perky as ever. So the appointment is canceled, and we'll just continue to play it by ear and enjoy whatever time we have left together.

Getting old sucks, FYI.

School Boom

Does anyone else appreciate Waiting for Guffman references, or is the post title purely for my and Greg's benefit?

Sidamo started preschool two weeks ago, and this picture pretty much sums up his feelings about it.


As some of you may remember, we had Sidamo in preschool last year and pulled him out after realizing it was a really bad situation. Since then, he's been at home and we've gone through four (yes, you read that right) different nannies. So I'm just about as thrilled as he is that we've found a positive, consistent environment for him.

His new school is at a children's rehabilitation facility that began as an orphanage about 125 years ago. It is run by nuns, which I love, even as an atheist. His preschool is secular, but as a recovering Catholic who attended a Catholic university, I feel a real sense of comfort and familiarity when Sister Roberta welcomes us every morning.

I also love the tremendous diversity at the school—not only racial diversity, though there's plenty of that—but I also appreciate that Sidamo will be exposed to children with emotional and psychological differences. It'll be interesting to see if early integration of this sort will help him and his peers grow up with less perceived stigma about emotional and mental illness. Or if they'll even notice.

While Sidamo is at school, Nora and I have been spending lots of Q.T. together. I'm in a bit of a career transition at the moment, and I have a short window of free time in which to enjoy my little girl. It's so fascinating to see her on her own and discover her little quirks and interests apart from her big brother.

Her favorite part of the day, though, is when I say, "Should we go find your big brother?" Her face lights up, and she nods furiously. When we walk into school, she's all giggles and delight, and Sidamo is filled with joy when he sees us coming. It's kind of adorable. Also fascinating is getting the school report from Sidamo. I'm so used to being around him all day, even when a nanny is here, so to have this time of separation and distinct experiences has created a completely new way for us to relate to each other. I ask him about his day, and I hear things that actually surprise me (including one mean kid story—I don't know if I'm ready for those).

Each day that he goes, he's excited, happy, and ready for new stories, experiences, and adventures. And I'm excited to hear all about them.

Berry picking

Nora's playgroup decided to meet at a local berry farm this morning, so we thought we'd join. But, as is our style, we showed up about an hour and a half late and missed the group. So we picked alone. It was great, for the first 30 minutes or so. Nora couldn't have been happier when she realized that she was literally surrounded by her favorite food, and that it was hers for the picking.

She ate every berry within her reach, regardless of color or condition. As you can see from the photos, her condition degenerated as time went on—her cute little outfit was soon dripping with berry stains, covered in dirt and debris, and, somehow, missing a button. This girl is serious about her berries.

At one point, a woman with two children called across a few rows to me, "Excuse me, but she's eating the STEMS! She's putting STEMS in her mouth!" Like that was noteworthy. Oh woman, I'm sure I pulled more garbage out of my kid's mouth by noon than yours will consume in her entire life, and somehow neither of us is any worse for the wear.










After the 2-hour picking session (which got positively miserable once the berries' luster wore off), we emerged with three quarts of strawberries and a new appreciation for the people who pick our fruit. Our friend Katie and her six (count 'em) kids live in the neighborhood, so we headed over there and spent the rest of the day turning our berries, and a bunch that Katie supplied, into jam, which we then canned.




Lots of fun, but canning really is just as much work as everyone says it is. I'm also not sure the jam turned into actual jam, so we might just have some jars of sweet strawberry liquid to show for our 10 hours of toil, but still. It was a fun way to spend one of our last summer days.

If Heather and Jayme can do it …

… then hell, so can I.

Hello, my name is Deirdre, and I'm a bad blogger.

If you care to hear them, I have excuses aplenty for my absence, but something tells me you'd rather just hear the fun stuff about what we've been up to lately. Here goes my first installment: The kids' first trip to an amusement park.



Just five blocks from our house is an impossibly old and dilapidated amusement park that is just dying to have a novel written about it. Entry is $2.50, and approximately zero percent of that goes to upkeep. When you ride the 74-year-old roller coaster, you're vividly, violently reminded of the difference between the thrill of perceived danger (the kind you get on those multimillion-dollar, safety engineer–vetted Six Flags coasters) and the terror of actual danger (like you get when you see workers picking up pieces of cracked white lumber beneath the coaster you're on, and tossing them back over the fence, presumably so they can be staple-gunned back on later that afternoon).

Still, they have a fantastic kiddie ride section (and did I mention that $2.50 gets you in? And that I'm cheap?), so Greg and I took the kids over there a couple weeks ago on a rainy Saturday afternoon for an experiment in adventure. Sidamo usually isn't the most adventurous of kids, so we weren't sure how it would go. Turns out we needn't have worried—he was in heaven. He went on every single ride, including the kiddie roller coaster (a slightly less harrowing version of the crumbling lumber ride), and begged for more. Something tells me we're going to need to start saving our quarters for repeat trips. And once Nora is old enough to join in the fun? Well, I guess we'll have to make those fifty-cent pieces.











And now, just to show you how committed I am to my blogging rebirth, here it is again, video-montage style.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

First steps!

Nora took her first, very tentative, very sideways steps today. In pursuit of food, of course. She's still pretty wobbly, so I think it'll be a while before she's off and running, but still, it was very brave.

Nothin' isn't nothin'

Once again, in the name of 15 minutes extra sleep, we let Sidamo go downstairs by himself in the morning and later discovered a full memory card on the camera. It's quite enlightening to see just what counts as worthy of documentation in the eyes of a 3-year-old. And I'm still incredibly impressed that he can transition from video to photo on our little point-and-shoot; I'm pretty sure Greg still hasn't figured out how to do that.

Part of me knows we should either a) start putting the camera in a secure location at night, or b) get our lazy asses out of bed when the clock rings 7, but the other part of me would really hate to give up gems like these (and the extra sleep).

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Wordless Tuesday

Photos by Illumine Photography.

Famiversary Number 2

July 7, 2007, in Addis Ababa.

July 6, 2009, at Coors Field.

We are immeasurably blessed.