In the Midst of It

Today was, hands down, the best day of my year so far, for one reason:

I slept in!

My darling, wonderful, handsome, super duper, selfless husband offhandedly asked last night if I'd like to sleep in today.

Umm, yes.

And I did, until about 8:30, when I snuck into the kitchen on literal tiptoes and grabbed some coffee, then ran back to my bedroom where I camped out with my Bible, journal, and pen until sometime around 10 a.m.

It was bliss, and after finishing my devotional book, I got all organized with my resolutions (only one for 2010) and goals (oh, about 40) and whatnot. If heaven could be on earth, I think it would involve staying in bed until 10 a.m. with coffee and quiet.

I also realized that when I get 10 hours of sleep, I can tackle the world with a smile. I was definitely nicer today than, say, yesterday, when I got up around 7 to listen to little people bickering over their cartoons, Legos, couch space, and just about anything else they could think of. If I could have a nanny just for the hours between 7 and 9 a.m., I'd be a much nicer person. Or, if I could freeze my children between those same hours, and let them thaw slowly while I (also slowly) wake up, we'd all be very happy.

Instead, I get up at 7 and learn about righteousness while I try to teach the kids the same thing. For the record, I don't really like having to learn about righteousness. I like sleeping in better. I think the last time I didn't get up with the children was in July, when I had surgery. And before that? I have no idea; it certainly wasn't in 2009.

But not today! Today was a banner day with nobody arguing or begging for food, having to let the dogs out or do anything else for anybody else. It was fantastic.

However, when I sweetly asked Pace if he'd like to bless me with the same thing tomorrow morning, he belted out a "No!" faster than I could blink.

I can't say I blame him. He's got a good thing going, and he knows it. Sleeping in is nice.

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Waiting for the Christmas Eve service to start

I realized tonight, while tucking my boys in, that on this day exactly nine years ago, I found out I was going to be a mom. Oddly, I also made that realization at exactly 8:06 p.m., which is Caiden's "special time"--the time when he was born. (We celebrate (loudly) anytime we look at the clock and see a family member's special time on the clock.) Grayson is convinced he's not very special because he's almost always napping during his, so he rarely gets celebrated. Poor middle child.

Anyway, it was a happy moment, looking at the clock and realizing I've been at some point on this motherhood walk for nine years, and that so far, I'm still alive. And so are the kids, which on some days is a Serious Miracle. Literally, actually. We've survived numerous hospitalizations, surgeries, croup attacks, stitches, broken bones, black eyes, episodes of vomiting, sibling rivalry, picky eaters, loud talkers, and years--8 straight, actually--of diapers. I've been pregnant a total of 27 months, nursed another 27, and taken oh, about a zillion pregnancy tests. One in the Fort Worth Public Library, and not a few at Wal Mart. It has been a wild ride--precious, hard, hilarious, too fast, too slow, germy, questioning, growing. I'm thankful for each day composing these nine years, and especially for the little boy who's now fast asleep, who started this trip.

Happy first day, Caiden. You are more than I could've asked for, in every which way, and I'm so glad I've got you. These first nine years have been really great. Let's make the rest even better.

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When we get an urge to do some baking around here, we do a little shopping with the kids. If they behave, they can walk, but if not, in the cart they go!

Once we get home, it's essential to dress appropriately. Chef's hat and ballerina costume not optional.

Also not optional is a sunlit moment of hand-on-hip pondering and gazing out the window at the roses.

As always, baking is for sharing. Even if the cupcakes are stuffed.

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because he didn't get eaten for Thanksgiving!

Here he is, surveying his first snow.


Lucky turkey.

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Look what I got for Christmas! A new niece! My sister-in-law, Janae, went into labor Christmas morning, and by evening we had the sweetest gift we've ever gotten for Christmas, little miss Jae Elizabeth.

Last night we went to visit her, and Caiden was beside himself to get to hold her. He thought it was funny she has so much hair but was quite impressed with her wrinkly pink toes.

Dear Janae, way to go! You did it!! Welcome to motherhood, the best thing ever. I'm so excited to have you join the Club with me and Les. We love you and will definitely go to lunch in April when Les comes out, to celebrate together!!

(And hey, don't forget about those sitz baths and the inflatable donut--after delivering a near-9 pound baby, they'll be your best friends and make life worth living again.)

Love,
Sarah
p.s. So when can I babysit?? I think you and Dan need a date night around here sometime soon!

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Thank you for the insanity love yesterday. I always feel better knowing I'm not the only person who doesn't have her act together all the time most of the time ever.

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until Christmas, and I felt very on top of it last Friday, when I spent an hour online and did all of my husband's shopping, but then Saturday my parents came in town, and somehow I unravelled. Now it's Tuesday, and I need to:

And, if you are as crazy as I am, then you might've also decided to have your kitchen and dining room walls and cabinetry painted the week before Christmas.

(Getting ready to cover the fridge and ovens before spraying--madness!)

My husband thought I was nuts but grudgingly obliged when I promised him stellar results and said he could forsake buying me any gifts if he let me get the job done. (And, happily, he disregarded that and bought me presents anyway. I love that man! And, they turned out SO GREAT! I'll post "After" pictures once my pulls/knobs arrive!!) So this is self-induced insanity, but that seems par for the course around here. Like I've said before here, it's always something . . .

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Here's a peek into what was going on all last week:
Any guesses? It's a common theme with me, if you've known me very long . . .

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Three Hartfield boys, crammed in a chair, getting some bedtime sugar. Things I love about this:

Grayson is wearing a hat--Grayson is always wearing a hat, so that's no surprise. But at this point, he'd been wearing that hat for 72 hours straight, and Pace made him take it off at bedtime because he was afraid his hair would fall out. Grayson pointed out that it would be okay if it did, since he had a hat on. And those cheeks! Bliss right there.

Caiden's face--Caiden is a love sponge. That's his trademark expression, and he just oozes with happiness and cheese. I'm crazy about him.

Pace's dad's face--this is a man who's lived through two boys and a girl of his own, and he generally just smiles and shakes his head at mine. By 8 p.m. he was still (mostly) smiling at them--a serious accomplishment. Boys can wear a body out! And see those eyes? That's where Grayson gets his from. Pace's sister has the same sky blue, amazing eyes. Thanks Bob, for passing them on--they're going to be responsible for some serious girl trouble in the future.

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See her? That's my brother's wife, Janae. She's pregnant, and in a bathroom with my nephew, which makes me laugh. She was drinking oj like crazy to get ready for her 4D ultrasound, and then the sonographer told her she needed an empty bladder, not a full one. Oops. Anyway, isn't she cute? And super stylish. And tall, and skinny, and it's a good thing I love her, or I might not even like her.

And is this a good-lookin' group of brunettes, or what? This is me with my mom and sister and Janae and her two sisters. I used to be much blonder but went the Brunette Way after Grayson was born. And then there's my mom, who thought she was a blond, until my sister and I did a Hair Intervention shortly after this photo and won her back to the Brunette Way. Speaking of my sister, she shortly after dyed her hair slightly red. And then she cut my hair and gave me bangs. So actually, we don't look like this at all. But all for the better!

I had to wear my high boots to stick with this group of tall girls--I'm the shortest by about 4 inches. Blah.

I'm the one in the middle. See that belly? Let's pretend I'm pregnant. Except that I'm not. Still working on that baby weight. Three-and-a-half years later. I know you feel my pain. If you don't, I don't like you much. See how skinny my sister is? I don't like her much.

And I don't now how much you can zoom in on this photo, but do you see Addie's super snappy lipstick-red boots? Hit of the shower. Also notice how Catie, second from left, looks more like Addie's mom than I do. Strange, isn't it? At least we know how Catie's future children will look. Unless they, in a strange twist of fate, look like me. Hmmm. Food for thought on a Wednesday morning.

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I really did.

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This is my fake smile because I'd really rather be eating my oatmeal than posing for photos at 7:49 a.m.

And this is when I've realized that when you called me a macaroni penguin, you didn't mean that as a compliment. You were making fun of my hair. That's why it's called "bedhead," you know. Sheesh.

Actually, I'm really sort of hurt. I thought brothers were supposed to be nice to each other, especially since we just woke up and haven't had time to get mad at each yet. Right?
You know, now that I think about it, it is kind of funny. And I do like penguins. And macaroni. Okay, I'm over it. Let's go play.

Joke on nearby church matinee today: "Corduroy pillows making headlines." Fitting, isn't it?

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Do you see what I see?

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I love baby dolls, and Addie loves baby dolls, and neither of us can figure out, for the life of us, what's charming about plastic baby dolls. They're hard and cold and as un-babylike as one can get. And their hair feels a little bit creepy. Everybody knows real babies are soft and squishy and charmingly warm. And floppy.

Like this one:


There. Much better.

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Style knows no limits around here.

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How on earth has a month gone by? I'll tell you how:

Getting ready for a visit from grandparents,

then

Eating, and walking, and shopping, and visiting, and fishing, and cooking, and running, and eating, and showing off chickens, all with grandparents.

Then, sliding into a Pioneer Woman book signing with friends, Christmas preparations, having our hot tub removed and deck rebuilt (It's done, hooray!) and getting Christmas lights up, and the house decorated, and lists made for Christmas shopping.

Then stopping suddenly, now that Grayson has bronchitis and is under house arrest/quarantine for a week at least, so we're housebound and not really minding,

except that it's hard to shop for Christmas and everything else when I'm home and banned from anywhere with people. Which is, of course, everywhere.

Today we're also rescuing a rogue rooster who was discovered in our field this morning, bloody from a fight with the turkey, and freezing in the 16 degree temps. Caiden carried him into the shop in our barn to warm up a little and see if we can revive him. So now he's convalescing, as well.

Then there's homeschooling, of course, and paying bills and cleaning and everything else, and somehow a month went by.

It has been a fast month, but a good month.

I just hope the next one slows down a little, you know?

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Here are a few good reads we've come upon recently:

Mysterious Benedict Society, by Trenton Lee Stewart: For elementary-middle school readers, except that I loved it and considered it one of my favorite reads this year! I bought it a long time ago to read and see if it was okay for Caiden to read. He read the Series of Unfortunate Events earlier this year and loved each book, so I was excited to see a new series of books that might be good for him. It was! Super clean, with a great story, and we were both captivated through the end. There are two more in the series, which will be going in a red box with a bow next month for him (and me!). These are long books, over 400 pages each, so they're great for keeping a fast reader occupied.

House of Dies Drear, by Virginia Hamilton: I read this one, somehow having missed it in high school. It was a different book, but very good, and I loved it. (Sidenote: the first night I started reading, it was a little scary and suspenseful, and at midnight when I put the book down and turned off my lamp, I realized I saw raccoon feet out in the barn. I had to grab a lantern and the dog and head out into the pitch black of the field and into the barn to wield off possibly-rabid creatures. I was scared stiff. Pace was asleep, so no help there. Even the dog didn't want to go in the barn! Then it turned out not to be raccoons at all, and I had to fight the urge to run all the way back to the house. I walked, but only barely. I don't read scary books very often, obviously.) There is a sequel I haven't checked out yet.

Our Only May Amelia, by Jennifer Holm: another juvenile book, but also not for younger readers. I can't remember where I read about this one, but I'm so glad I did. It takes place in Washington in about 1900 and is about a lone girl among 7 brothers. Her Finnish family experiences several heartaches in that year, and the story is in her voice, and it's excellent. I always come away from literature about that time period astounded at what pioneers struggled with just to survive.

Stories from Grandma's Attic, by Arleta Richardson: Caiden is reading these out loud to us for school, and even though the characters are a young girl and her grandmother, he loves it. Each chapter is a story from the grandmother's childhood, and she was a mess! We laughed out loud when she snuck hoop skirts under her church dress, sat down on the pew, and the entire dress flew up into her face. Each chapter is the grandmother's retelling of her life lessons to her granddaughter, and they're all based on the author's grandmother's life. There are a few sequels to this book.

March, by Geraldine Brooks: I read this after my dad recommended it. Yikes! I had a hard time with this one, because the character, Mr. March from Little Women, was completely different from how I'd imagined. In Little Women not much about him is mentioned, other than the fact he's at war and comes home emotionally and physically damaged. March is his story, and it's based on Louisa May Alcott's father's journals. (Father? Grandfather? I can't remember.) I have to be honest and say I didn't like the book until the very end because I didn't like the main character. Then I was glad I stuck with it, because it was riveting and touching and made me think. There are some adult themes in this one, being a book about abolition and war, so be forewarned.

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My husband says he doesn't know what to do with all the leaves that keep dropping.





I think the kids (and chicken) have figured it out!

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Why am I spending every afternoon working on her,


when she's clearly smitten with her:

Plucked,

Protected,

Bedded on a mushroom,

Given a face

and swaddled,

put to bed,

with a sleepover guest.

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I wrote about this quilt here, then renamed it when I finished it, since it's not, in fact, Addie's quilt, it's mine. I made it for me, to remember her first year by, and maybe someday, if I'm feeling particularly unsentimental, I might give it to her.

Or just let her sleep on it?


Maybe just look at it.

Oh, I'm kidding, I promise.

(Maybe.)

Anyway, it's finished, and I love it dearly, because it's my first quilt (I've made) to snuggle under. I made my husband this one, then this one for Addie, then these for the boys, but this is all mine! It's the perfect size, just big enough to sleep under but not so big to be awkward to quilt, and the back is two fabrics that are very 30s vintage, but you'll have to imagine it because I deleted my photos. Long story.

It stays folded up on my reading basket next to my bed, ever ready for a plop down in an armchair with a good book.

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I was tinkering around on my computer today and realized I have a high concentration of poultry pictures in my photos. Never in my life would I have guessed I'd be the proud owner of photogenic poultry!

Here are a few of the more recent shots:
Gloria, in all her turkey beauty. Okay, so maybe not loads of beauty, but she's very friendly and makes awesome noises that make us all laugh. She also lays beautiful pink eggs with chocolate speckles.
I had never seen a turkey look like this before. All the Thanksgiving drawings of turkeys show them with their feathers raised. Tom actually only raises his feathers occasionally, and is otherwise unimpressive looking, but he sure is funny. He gobbles on command, which alone is worth paying for his feed.
Here are a few of our babies, right after we got them. Now they're much bigger and look like miniature chickens, feathers and all, but for some reason I don't have any other pictures of them. I guess second flocks are similar to second children in that way!
Here are our big girls, minus one who was laying in the barn. There's Paprika, Victoria, Ozma, and Owl. Caiden names all the chickens, and he's having fun choosing names for the new flock.
And this? This is what you get in Texas in 100+ heat. A partially cooked egg in its shell. I cracked it open to cook it, realized it was already, and laughed out loud. Only in Texas. Sheesh.

So there you go! Purty poultry :)

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I've tried to write for the last week or so, but there's so much to catch up on that I can't seem to put anything into coherent words. So here's an "in between" post, and later I can consider myself all caught up and move on!

Getting these!

Knitting her:

Visiting with my precious sister and her wonderful son

Leslie reading to the little ones

I hadn't seen my sister Leslie since last Thanksgiving, and I've missed her so much. I never dreamed we'd go so long without setting eyes on each other, and we made up for it by talking nonstop for a week! We sat over coffee, cider, hot chocolate, and Diet Coke and had long talks. We went to lunch and talked. We got up early in the morning and texted while she was still in the guest room. We stayed up late into the night--morning!--and talked. It was wonderful, and I told her she could just live with me forever, if her husband could stand it. He couldn't, so she went home, but I missed them both the minute they stepped on the plane. I'm already saving up to fly out and see them in the spring.

So that's the gist of what's been going on. We're finally enjoying beautiful fall days, full of sunshine and warm days with cool nights, so after we finish school each day, we spend much of the day outside, playing in leaves and on the tire swing, or in the play cottage. And of course there's soccer practice, laundry, groceries, and the like! Happy fall days, enjoying the little things God has given us.

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It's dark, and it's late, and my eyes are blurry from being so tired, but I wanted to hop on really quick and say that yes, I'm alive. I haven't written anything in the last week and a half, because there hasn't been anything to write about, and as my husband said, that's a good thing! There's absolutely nothing exciting going on, which thrills both of us. Boring is good in our house.

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I'm realizing that being stranded is good: without being able to run to Target, or go to soccer practice, Scouts, or co-op, I'm able to get a lot of things accomplished! It also helps that Grayson and Caiden spent eight hours at the kitchen table yesterday, with hardly a potty break, consumed with building Grayson's new Lego kits. Addie took her customary nap, so I spent the afternoon up in the sewing loft gaining some sanity--I decided that although I'd love to hand-sew my quilt, if I wanted to snuggle up in it this year (or next), I should just machine sew it. So I did. I didn't even worry about ripping out the quilting in the 10 blocks I'd already done. (Clearly, I'm not a perfectionist. I'm more of an it's-good-enough-ist.) By bedtime last night, I had a quilted and bound quilt. Hooray! Right now I'm freezing on the porch, wrapped up in it and patting myself on the back for taking the easy way out. Sometimes the easy way out is just a good idea, you know? Sort of like the frozen waffles I popped in the toaster this morning to feed the kids. It was either frozen waffles or none at all, so I think I made the right decision.

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Remember yesterday when I said I wanted another day like it? Well, I got my wish! I took Addie to the doctor today, and she confirmed that she has what my boys fondly call "the chicken pops." Or "the polkie dots," which is what Addie calls it. The name is cuter than the rash, that's for sure! The good news is that Addie has already had the first vaccine, so it's a pretty mild case. Honestly, both my dogs are battling fleas in a mighty way (Frontline isn't working!!), and I was secretly afraid that doctor would diagnose Addie with a case of fleas. So I was relieved to have chicken pox as the verdict instead.

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nothing! Nothing, at least, involving leaving the house. We're a little under the weather, between allergies and suspected chicken pox ("Poor Addie!" she'd say.), so we cancelled all plans.

Instead, I'm:

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On the first day of very month, for as long as I can remember, my mom and I have called each other to say "Happy February!" or whatever month it happens to be. We love new months, but no month is as happy to me as October. I love October. I used to feel that way about September, because in Southern Illinois where I grew up, September is fall. Here in Texas, October brings in fall, so now I love it best.

I woke up at 6:15 today, very uncharacteristic for me, simply because I knew it was October first, and I wanted to be up to savor it before even the dogs awoke. I took a shower, made the coffee, and sat and enjoyed an entire hour of quiet, dark October. Something about October makes my spirit sing. This morning it sang even louder as the sun rose to show off a cloudy, cloudy morning. As Caiden and I did our chick chores, it began to rain, and I'm not sure when I've ever been happier. The first day of October, combined with solitude for an hour, coffee with whipped cream, and rain? It's as close to earthly bliss as I can think of.

I seized the moment to write out my Christmas list for my family, as well as to order these two books:
A Simple Christmas
Christmas from the Heart of the Home

I have Susan Branch's "Autumn" book, on borrow from my mom, and I love it deeply. When Caiden glanced through the pages and found a quote from Grandma Moses, our current artist study for school: "If I weren't a painter, I'd raise chickens," he fell deeply in love, too. The book sits on my cookbook holder on one of my kitchen counters, and I have plans to sit down one dark night and read the entire thing. So far, that hasn't happened, but there's a recipe for pumpkin lattes in it, so I know it'll happen eventually. I love Susan Branch, especially because every word and illustration in her books and cookbooks is hand-done by her. If you haven't seen one of her books before, you can order them on Amazon very cheaply, used. I have several, and they're all really sweet and chock-full of great recipes and ideas to celebrate each season.

Today is co-op, and so I need to get going. I'm teaching both P.E. and knitting, which makes me feel very well-rounded, but I can't play hooky. To be honest, I would today if I could. It's the perfect day to stay home, bake some cupcakes or the pumpkin-shaped mini-cakes in the newest issue of Southern Living, and pretend it's only 50 degrees outside. We'd bundle up in our cold-weather clothes, drink hot chocolate, and work on Christmas gifts.

But this afternoon, when I'm done? I'm headed straight to Starbucks for a pumpkin latte, then home to sit down and absorb the entire "Autumn" book, in my little celebration of October.

So, Happy October to you! What are you going to do today to celebrate?

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