Big Helper

Love how he's pinching his gums together.

She was saying, "Just one more bite baby!"

Learning, learning learning...

I unboxed my "teacher" things and made a Calendar Board. We do this little routine every morning. I hope it lasts a long time because the kids love it, and so do I. Right now it is pretty basic. But the possibilities are endless.

I've been reading books about educational methods and instruction again. Pedagogy. I like that word. Right now I'm in the classic, How Children Fail. It's fascinating to me, the study of teaching. I wonder if I will teach again. It feels like a hazy and distant possibility.

But I also remember ordering those letter magnets we are using on our board. It was my last year of teaching. I was pregnant. The idea that the baby I was carrying would actually USE them seemed like a hazy and distant possibility as well.

Today our PAT Educator (Parents As Teachers...do you use this program?) came. She had fun activities and gave all sorts of tips. But there is one I remember more than the others. She said that based on what she's seen, she thought Zach would do great in Kindergarten. But since he wasn't in preschool, maybe I could practice lining up with him. And maybe he could practice following me in a line.

I smiled. It was a good tip.

But my thoughts were swirling. My public school teacher brain said, "oh! how practical! how useful! and, how important!". And my mom brain was saying something more like, "I'm sorta glad that his first 5 years of life were spent line-less."

with love, mama spud

i love you
i love you
you're my little guy
you're my little french-y fry

i love you
i love you
more than a king's crown
you're my little hash-y brown

i love you
i love you
i love you a lot
you're my little tater tot


These are love rhymes I say over and over lately. I made them up on the spot a few months ago, and they stuck.

Also, I framed these photos and hung them in a sweet little line in the hallway that leads to my bedroom. It was one of the best decorating decisions I've ever made. Because no matter what heavy thing might be weighing on my mind, I can't walk past this row of pictures without feeling like my heart will burst with gratitude. literally. burst.

Spoooky

Halloween 2009 did not disappoint.

We attended a spooky bash with cousins.

Tattoos - face painting - colored hair - pinatas - and the now infamous brain-eating game.

It was a hit.

Have I mentioned how much fun it is to be back home?
I love that blurry picture.

3 little heads hunched together waiting for the candy bowl to appear.

brothers

Makes me think of you...dear Lily

This is not the post I was going to write. The one about our annual trip to the pumpkin patch. Because when I look at my folder of pictures the only thing that comes to my mind is the marvel that is my 3 year old girl. Marvel I tell you. As soon as we were inside, she was off. And never looked back. Not once. If you wanted to see her feed a goat, pedal a mini tractor, ride a horse swing, go down a two-story slide, or navigate a corn maze, you had better be running behind her. I love Lily with a fierce motherly love. But some days, like pumpkin patch days, I wish I could just be her friend. She enchants me with her blazing independence. And I am so not that girl. Surely she would teach me a thing or two. Of course her choice in pumpkin is an easy example...

wait for it...

wait for it...

It was love at first sight. Totally her pumpkin. And what about a sweet photo with mom to commemorate the day?

not a chance.

Lily, maybe you'll read this one day.

I love you. Oh my gosh, I love you.

thoughts...motherhood and love

Roman James Painter, 6 months old. Just started baby food. He loves it. I'm feeling a little more reflective about the whole thing. I can't believe it's here already.

**

Yesterday I took my kids to the grocery store. I pushed the monstrosity of a cart that is required. Zach and Lily sat in their seats, beeped the horns of their steering wheels and said "Happy Halloween!" to every shopper we passed. As I tucked a package of bacon in the space of the cart that remained, a lady touched my elbow and said, "You must be an angel." And then at the checkout, unloading groceries (uncovering Roman's car seat from a pile of produce) the cashier exclaimed, "WHOA, there's another one under there!" And I remembered back to when I was young, and my family of seven took bike rides together. Strangers used to honk and wave at us. It was funny to see such a long line of (mostly little) bikes.

We're finally using hand-me-downs. And boy oh boy do they transport me back in time. I put a blue bib on Roman and thought of the days when it was just me and another little boy together in a quiet house. I sort of romanticised a bit about how sweet those days were. How I used to turn on soft music just to have some background noise.

**

I love every single stage. Mainly, I am grateful to be participating in the heritage of motherhood. I know that my experiences and emotions are not especially unique, and that kind of astounds me. That there are millions of people who love so deeply.