A desperate attempt at avoiding the laundry for at least another five minutes.

I try to blog all the time. I really, really do. But the blank screen in front of me erases thought patterns. Usually for days at a time.

The year without  a blog post. Sob, sob.

I am in the process of squishing our large family into an even smaller living area then we were previously living in.  And I am just weird enough to be kind of happy about it. I adore small spaces. Not small dark spaces, just small spaces. Write that down, it is important.

We are adding on 1700 square feet. Three bedrooms, living room and office/home school room and smallish playroom. Am I excited? Um, sort of. Construction zones make me cranky. Mostly because I cannot play with the nail gun and feed the baby at the same time, sadly someone has to keep the kids away from dangerous areas. Stupid. Were is the feminist movement when you need it? Why the assumption that the mom will tend the children? Why?! Why?!

(S: Because you want to play with the nail gun, not actually work)

Crap. Point made.

School is whatever. This has been the year of reading and math drills, pretty much all of my carefully laid plans for school were eaten by the hamster.

2011 needs to end. I am sick and tired of 2011. For the first time in my entire life I plan to party hard on New Years Eve, not because I am ever so excited for 2012, I will just be gleeful that 2011 is dead and gone.

I have turned into a growly bear. I like bears so I am okay with that. A Kodiak bear, not a Maine black bear, Maine bears are cute and somewhat approachable*, Kodiak bears not so much.

*Do not ever approach a black bear (or any bear) the cuteness is bait, as in “Honey look at dis adoooble beary wary……..ahhhhhh wheres my arm!!!!!”

Ha, Ha. Maybe I am a black bear.

A postcard I made for 2011, because I care and because I am supposed to be grading a math test.



Goodbye to another day.

I am a coward. I hate to say goodbye, but who does? Or am I the only one? Well I know that I am not.
I realize of course that change is (can be) good, and it can be said that I have benefited greatly from life and the changes that I have witnessed in my life.
My husband will be 40 in a few years, no big deal really, but I had never thought about it. And he is not the same person I married. He has changed, although maybe not as much as I. I was so young when I married my Jofeaky. Now I have this little baby who reminds me so much of Katie and I cannot help but see the changes in myself as a parent. And that my Katie is growing up too quickly, the years went by too fast and soon Chantelle will be ten and my Kat will be an adult. Time really does seem to fly when you are in the midst of life. How many things have I done right? I won’t even begin to count the mistakes I have made. But I am glad for my mistakes, they have preached and lectured to me. This year has been a year of change, it has felt as though my whole world has slid into another time with no transition. It has been unsettling. I am waking up to the idea that soon there will be many more goodbyes and I am not ready. Not ready to let go. I only pray that God knows what he is doing, I can only pray for strength, strength to remember with love and strength to run into the sunshine of tomorrow with out the weight of yesterday and what ifs. I can Be. ~K

Kids · Picture Post

Growth Spurts

Elenore is going through a growth spurt, her first one since she turned two. It is bizarre watching my little girl beg for food 24/7. She is so small and up till two days ago she never ate. (okay she ate, but like a very picky bird.)

I made enchiladas, she ate two, then a bowl of cream of wheat, an apple, a carrot, a can of beets, then a can of cranberry sauce, another carrot, enchilada leftovers and a handful of olives. Then she went to bed and woke up an hour later, crying for a peanut butter sandwich. She had the sandwich and a glass of milk.  She eats like a teenage boy and she is only five. Caleb and Katie just finished up with a growth spurt, which left a huge hole in my grocery budget, I was hoping for a chance to restock the larder, but no such luck.

Chantelle is four months this week. She is always covering us in drool and she growls at us. She might be a puppy.