Completed in a single naptime:
an elastic-waisted linen skirt
with an embellished tee
About Me
- emily
- I'm a hand-holding, swing-pushing, story-telling Mama with a creative streak and a nurturing spirit. I like growing food and flowers (and people, hehe), sewing clothes and quilts, cooking and eating and running, a long, tight hug and the color yellow. I love date nights at home, spontaneous trips to the bookstore and hearing my babies laugh. I am indecisive, exaggerrative and I overuse parentheses. I am reflective and sentimental and quick to laugh. I think I still picture myself as a 22-year old, yet every year my life gets more fulfilling. I am still figuring out exactly who I am. :)
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
backyard picnic
After a morning of:
untimely and rude awakenings,
hurt feelings for my sensitive girl,
shenanigans from my boy,
ear-piercing (happy) screams from my baby,
an ordeal of a grocery run (fairly common when all 3 come along, hehe)
and a pointless and silly battle I should not have chosen to wage but did anyway,
all while Noah is away at a water polo tournament...
we chose a picnic to chase the blues away!
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| picnic quilt from my friend Janell! |
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| this is her first kindergarten (!) dress that she insisted upon wearing today! |
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| YUM! |
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| one of the few shots I got of her NOT stuffing food into her mouth, hehe |
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| FRAMER!! |
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| :) |
And now for naptime...I've just finished this (loved it! Thanks Mom!) and onto this, a somewhat unconventional choice for me, but should be interesting nonetheless! :)
Friday, June 17, 2011
I turn my back for just one second...
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| ...good thing our carpet is old and un-loved. :) |
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
sand shampoo
It is officially hot here, so we have been spending our mornings outside when it is still bearable. :)
Honestly, we have an awesome backyard.
It's big enough for the kids to run around, play a little baseball, ride their bikes up and down the sidewalk, check out how their tomatoes are growing (bigger by the day!) while Mama joins in and/or swings in the hammock with a book and a grateful smile for all that I have.
Also, the sandbox.
Which lately has been the most popular attraction, used by all three kidlets and visiting friends.
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| "Here, Lucy, have a sand shampoo!" |
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| "See, I'll do it too!" (Notice her look and hair, hehe!!) Also, I wanted to mention my good friend for just a moment. Laura (she blogs here) was my neighbor and we used to go on walks with our kids every week. I always looked forward to those walks. :) Now they live a few hours away and I miss them. :( Laura's daughter Bonnie is having a very important surgery in a few weeks, and I just thought, even though I know only a few people read this blog (Hi Mom! Hi Sarah, Laura Carlee and Mandy! Hi Keshet!), the more people we have thinking happy and positive thoughts for my dear friends, the better. So please, think a happy thought or two or three for them! |
Monday, June 6, 2011
just for fun
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| Claire, and now Alexander, too, love to carry Lulu, even though she is usually squirming to get down! |
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| Got to love art time! See Lucy's hand in the back trying to pull something down? Yeah, this was our messiest (aka most fun!) art time yet! :) |
Thursday, June 2, 2011
it isn't always so rosy
Our days are not always filled with gentle sunshine and singing and laughter, just in case you were wondering.
Sometimes we set out to try a new recipe and end up arguing over who gets to stand where, who gets to choose the song, for heaven's sake, who will crack the eggs first?
Sometimes we look forward to an afternoon of riding bikes and gardening only to be distracted every thirty seconds by the non-sharing of said bikes and the stepping on the flowers and, for heaven's sake, will somebody get the littlest out of the street?
Sometimes our much-anticipated walk with our very dear friends turns into a competition to get Mama's attention; requesting, no, demanding, crackers that were already eaten, whining about someone looking at you, crying to be held so Mama has to push the behemoth of a (much-beloved) stroller one-handed, complaining about not stopping at the park, etc.
There have been times I have been so weary, so frustrated, so lonely for my hardworking coaching husband who, six months out of the year (water polo season) is not fully available for either moral or parental support, that I want to scream at the very top of my lungs "LEAVE ME ALONE!" to anyone or anything that asks something of me.
One time, when Lulu Belle was an infant, and Noah was at practice, Alex asked me over and over and over to fix an unfixable truck. If it hadn't already been a very long day, or I wasn't trying (very hard, but unsuccessfully) to get Lucy to sleep, I wouldn't have done it. But it had, and I was. So I took that darned green dump truck, and with all of my pent-up anger and frustration, I hurled that thing at the wall. Away from the kids, but still. Noah came home less than five minutes later to three bawling children and one nearly hysterical wife, and Alexander bo-Bander said it best when he tearfully explained "Mama threw my truck hard hard HARD!!!!"
Sometimes I want to shout "LISTEN to me, goddammit!!!" And if you know me, you know how utterly shocking that would be coming from my mouth.
And still.
These moments, while very real and unsettling and rare, when I want to lock myself in my bathroom and pretend nothing else exists for a few minutes, always give way to the most intense need to gather my four great loves close and hold them.
Not to talk or even look, just a desire, no, a need, to hold each other so close that it is impossible to tell where each of us ends and the others begin.
Because even after those days, the ones with no naps and irritation, yelling and crying and pleading and that feeling of utter defeat, I tuck them into bed and after a sigh of relief and a promise of maybe an hour of free time, I miss them.
With the same intensity with which I threw that darned dump truck an hour before.
No, it isn't always rosy.
But it is exactly where I want to be.
Sometimes we set out to try a new recipe and end up arguing over who gets to stand where, who gets to choose the song, for heaven's sake, who will crack the eggs first?
Sometimes we look forward to an afternoon of riding bikes and gardening only to be distracted every thirty seconds by the non-sharing of said bikes and the stepping on the flowers and, for heaven's sake, will somebody get the littlest out of the street?
Sometimes our much-anticipated walk with our very dear friends turns into a competition to get Mama's attention; requesting, no, demanding, crackers that were already eaten, whining about someone looking at you, crying to be held so Mama has to push the behemoth of a (much-beloved) stroller one-handed, complaining about not stopping at the park, etc.
There have been times I have been so weary, so frustrated, so lonely for my hardworking coaching husband who, six months out of the year (water polo season) is not fully available for either moral or parental support, that I want to scream at the very top of my lungs "LEAVE ME ALONE!" to anyone or anything that asks something of me.
One time, when Lulu Belle was an infant, and Noah was at practice, Alex asked me over and over and over to fix an unfixable truck. If it hadn't already been a very long day, or I wasn't trying (very hard, but unsuccessfully) to get Lucy to sleep, I wouldn't have done it. But it had, and I was. So I took that darned green dump truck, and with all of my pent-up anger and frustration, I hurled that thing at the wall. Away from the kids, but still. Noah came home less than five minutes later to three bawling children and one nearly hysterical wife, and Alexander bo-Bander said it best when he tearfully explained "Mama threw my truck hard hard HARD!!!!"
Sometimes I want to shout "LISTEN to me, goddammit!!!" And if you know me, you know how utterly shocking that would be coming from my mouth.
And still.
These moments, while very real and unsettling and rare, when I want to lock myself in my bathroom and pretend nothing else exists for a few minutes, always give way to the most intense need to gather my four great loves close and hold them.
Not to talk or even look, just a desire, no, a need, to hold each other so close that it is impossible to tell where each of us ends and the others begin.
Because even after those days, the ones with no naps and irritation, yelling and crying and pleading and that feeling of utter defeat, I tuck them into bed and after a sigh of relief and a promise of maybe an hour of free time, I miss them.
With the same intensity with which I threw that darned dump truck an hour before.
No, it isn't always rosy.
But it is exactly where I want to be.
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