Chasing Birds

If only the long version of this was small enough to be emailed. If only you could get the real view of what this was. Small children, ours especially, chasing, jumping after, yelling at, singing to and, in some cases, sneaking up and grabbing this flock of a few dozen pigeons. But so long as the food kept on coming, they didn't seem to care.

Play in the Dirt

With Ben not able to come home this past weekend in order to keep up progress on the new Seabox job, I wanted to plan a few special things for Matty to look forward to. One thing I suggested was a play date for him with any friend he wanted, and he chose his cousin Ansley. Since I hadn't had a chance to visit with her Mommy, Amanda, or Gram in a while, I was super excited about his choice!

With no plan or agenda we met at Gram's (My Aunt "Little" Mimi's) for a play date Sunday afternoon in the unseasonably warm weather, and the kiddos enjoyed every moment. They needed nothing but each other and they were off having a great time. Running in the awesome back yard, throwing up piles of leaves, pulling out and playing with every toy under the roof!

Not that they wanted to spend much time under the roof. Mimi has a legendary back yard that she is constantly updating, replanting and nurturing. And the focal point of the yard is Amanda's old swing set from when she was a child, that now has been grown over with lush gorgeous vines. A perfect play set for two imaginative children.

And also perfect for the adventurous pair was the large planter in the side yard that became the site of quite the digging expedition! The two of them sat contentedly digging and munching on baby tomatoes fresh off the vine.

I love how these two interact with each other. They don't get the chance to play as much as we would like but they always pick up right where they leave off. Ansley is only 6 months older than Matty and when I watch them I can already see a very special bond forming. They play very sweetly together, sharing and taking turns. Very rare and special for two only children. And I can't wait to watch them grow into big kids together. Well, actually, I can wait a little while...

Lighten Up

This post is one for me. To chastise myself a bit, and let myself off the hook at the same time.

Lately with Ben working out of town again, and the pressure I put on myself to do it all perfectly by myself, I've had this nagging feeling in my gut that I've just been riding Matty a little too hard. Expecting a little too much. Pushing a little too hard. I hate that. Who wants to be that person? Who wants to work 8 hours a day, commute for 2 and spend the cherished few moments together marking teachable moments at the dinner table because he's eating applesauce with his fingers. I guess this is something all mother's struggle with. Balance. Being too hard or too soft. Struggling with the big questions: If he eats applesauce with his fingers now, will he always?

Queen of No. That's been me lately. And the Queen of Comparison. Do other mothers do this? Subtly look at the other children in the class and think to themselves: Does he put on his own shoes and socks everyday? I don't really make the time in the mornings to let Matty try. Does he patiently wait until his bedtime pull-up and poop in his pants? Matty knows how to poop on the potty, he just doesn't feel like it.

I've gotten all caught up in a nasty mess in my head of milestones, details and deadlines. No, not for me and my work, but my Matty. Sweet little Matty. Sweet, smart, funny, curious and imaginative little Matty.

Then a little while ago, I was reading something that made me feel a lot better. Just something I needed to see. So I put it up at my desk to remind myself to lighten up a little bit. Some of this I do well, but it's so easy to let yourself forget.

Making Do

Couch cushions at the cleaners, but young Matty quickly improvises.

NASA: Mission Complete

Just had to post this super cute picture of two very proud little boys!

A couple of weeks ago Jake and Matty finished their first soccer season and received their medals of completion. They were super proud of themselves! The Daddy's were just super relieved they survived the season at all.

I think Brian and Ben had envisioned playing soccer with their sons somewhat differently than how it turned out. They seemed to be hoping for more organization than is really reasonable to expect when dealing with 3 year olds in a wide open field.

Back to swimming and T Ball, and a little more supposed order.

Costumes, Candy, and...Conjunctivitis

Not a very festive blog title, but an accurate and informative one! And that about sums up the excitement in our house this week. But first I go back to early October when I asked Matty what he wanted to dress up as for Halloween and he very certainly said he wanted to be a dinosaur so "I can roar at people. And it's ok Mommy I'll just wear my costume from last year." Well that about made my head spin around but I was more than happy to oblige. When I went digging for his costume a little while later I was distressed to find the head had mysteriously gone missing. I tore apart his room, playroom, our closet, the attic, all in desperate search for this head so my child could roar at the neighbors.

Concerned but undeterred I put on my Martha Stewart pants and went to brainstorming on how to accessorize a nondescript green torso into a dinosaur. A green ball cap, googly eyes and foam-and-glue fashioned claws helped to deck him out for the DCA Halloween parade last Friday! I was rather proud of my handiwork and was pleasantly surprised he managed to keep on all the extra gear. That's his teachers. The kids will do anything for them. The parade was terribly cute and Matty marched proudly!

As I figured would happen the head did end up turning up. Not on November 1st as I'd thought but the day before Halloween so Matty had his choice in attire and chose the real head. He looked super cute at the Whitlock Manor Halloween party and hayride and I must say his ferocious roar was something to behold. Perched atop Saurus rock, he was definitely the cutest reptile I'd ever laid eyes on.

And speaking of eyes, his started to do something right before the hayride that I'd only seen once when he was a baby. Dino-green mucus began oozing from his eyes. I wiped away green. And green quickly reappeared. "Hmm...surely it's just his cold," I thought. "He can't be getting pinkeye while trick-or-treating, that's just cosmicly unfair." But by 2AM we were awoken to the frightened screams of a child who's eyes were glued shut and by 10AM the doctor was confirming my fears. Somehow we've managed to get through the last few days of the eyedrops that he viciously loathes, Ben and I not getting it yet (knock on wood) and 99% of his class uninfected. I shutter to think how many we passed the pink to Monday night. Let's be honest, I'm only sharing this here because this blog is private.

But before the cloud of conjunctivitis descended, sweet Matty had a great Halloween. He trick-or-treated like a pro and delighted the neighbors with his animated dino-impersonation. He really understands all the holiday hoopla this year and it's terribly cute and puts everything into new perspective. Childhood magic is truly upon us.

Confessions of an Amateur Cook: #4

Fresh tomatoes, basil from my very own potted herb garden, a crusty baguette, and a 4-year old All Clad food mill that had never been used. These were the key ingredients for my first-ever batch of homemade soup that was our pre-Halloween Sunday night supper early this week.

As usual, I had my dear, imaginary friend, Ina Garten, to calmly walk me through steps in my head. The "Julia" to my neurotic and desperate, yet ever-hopeful "Julie." The carrots and red onions were chopped and sauteed. The aromatic garlic joined them in the hot oil. The 4 luscious pounds of vine-ripened tomatoes were coarsely chopped. Well close to it, perhaps a bit more like maimed and pulverized. Not owning a food processor, I often make do with my cup-sized Handy Chopper by Cuisinart. Handy indeed for small tasks. A time-consuming, inconvenient little roadblock for large ones. But it eventually got the job done. The rest of the soup making was pretty easy: low heat and a little time.

Then came the part I'd so been looking forward to. The food mill. I'd wanted one for a while, though I'd never a single reason to. Just something about the way Ina mesmerisingly pours food into a food mill and churns it out luxurious and smooth made me think I'd be a better person for owning one. Around the time we lost Ben's Dad, I'd mentioned as much to his partner, Trey. The night before we left Houston to return home after Don had passed away a store-wrapped Williams-Sonoma package sat in the kitchen with my name on it. The gesture had meant so much to me I couldn't bring myself to break it in. But I figured 4 years was a long enough wait, especially since I'm on this recent life mission of "doing things," rather than just "planning on doing things." Even if I am just starting with soup.

All in all the dinner was a delicious success, though next time I may try a few different tricks to make it a little thicker, heartier, a little more stick-to-your-ribs, if you can do that to soup. My personal addition to the meal turned out truly delicious, if I do say so myself. Small open face cheese and bacon sandwiches. Slices of toasted baguette, freshly grated Cheddar cheese and bacon strips. To quote my friend, "how good is that?"