harrington family reunion

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just got back from four days on the North Shore with the Harrington family. It was so awesome that today I am feeling homesick. And I'm home! But Mat and Stephanie flew home yesterday, Uncle Mark, Aunt Jane, Yang Yang and Nui Nui had left the day before and now everyone is back to work and school. And I miss them!

There are nine kids in the Harrington clan, ages eight and under:
2 months old: Elsie
1 year old: Ivar
2 years old: Svea (turned two on Friday!)
3 years old: Nui Nui
4 years old: Nellie
5 years old: Sonna
6 years old: Simon
7 years old: Mara
8 years old: Claire

Pretty amazing to me. Mara and Claire used their time on the drive home yesterday to braid their hair together, as in, they put their heads together and braided chunks of each of their hair into one braid. These cousins love each other so much.

Much more to tell, and share. More later.

shopping for sunglasses

 

Anyone else have an identity crisis when you go to pick out a pair of sunglasses?

 



As I try on each pair I begin to wonder, Who am I? Am I girl who can wear aviators? Who can wear aviators? I saw that woman at Lake Harriet that day with an awesome pair of aviators, but maybe those were expensive. What makes sunglasses expensive? Isn't it just plastic and metal. Or what about these? The big purple plastic frames that are back from the eighties. Is it right that these are back so soon? And if I wear these does it look like I'm trying to keep up with the trends? Should I be? Is it bad that my favorite outfit is flip flops, hoodie sweatshirt and jeans? Should I try harder?

And after I tucker out from trying so many pair I begin to look at myself in the mirror, without sunglasses. You look really tired. You've got some dark circles under those eyes. That's not hair gel holding that clump of hair together. It's spit up. You are a mother of two. How in the world? And I wonder if I'll ever feel like a grown up and how if I have two kids, I probably should know what my style of sunglasses is by now.

Then I start to look at all of the fine lines and wrinkles around my eyes. Annika recommended that night time face cream. You should get some when you're here. But it was like twenty-five bucks. Rory would probably love you more if  you just saved that money...

Just grab a pair.

And in the end I seem to always buy the most non-descript pair of sun glasses that are sure to be sat on or lost within the next few weeks anyway. And then I'll be back in that same spot, having the same identity crisis.

messes

Life is exciting with an almost two-year-old around. Ivar is really gifted at finding creative things to do with his time while I am nursing. The more quiet he gets the more certain I am that I will have a photo opportunity waiting for me.

Those are all nice words I have chosen to explain that Ivar is a tornado. He leaves a path of destruction everywhere he goes and I am always cleaning up his messes. This first picture is all of our paper products. Clearly he was sitting in the middle as he spread out the plates and silverware. Please keep this picture in mind if you are ever over at my house and I serve you anything on paper. You may kindly ask for an actual plate and fork.

This is pretty normal for an almost 2 year old...unrolling the toilet paper. But below you'll see a mess that is a bit more original. He got the full and open can of pineapple off of the counter, pulled it down (that's juice on the floor), put some pineapple in each of these Ivar bowls and ate the entire can. I only found out about this mess when he ran into the living room with guilt and glee and a very sticky face, feet and fingers yelling, "No! Pie Apple! All gone! No!"

I don't always get the camera for Ivar's messes. Only the ones that make me grin a bit. I didn't get the camera when Ivar dumped his alphabet crayons onto my three-day-old laptop last week leaving bits of wax covering the keyboard. Nope. No picture of that mess. And thankfully no video with audio either. I was mad. Could only blame myself, but that didn't make me any less mad.

 

In the end, the laptop is fine, the paper products never get used anyway, the toilet paper is reusable, Ivar loves pineapple and somehow I have the joy of watching this little boy discover and learn each day. He makes me laugh so hard.

 



 

 

good news, good news, bad news, good news

I have the happiest news to share: Toonces found a home! At least when I went to the Humane Society webpage his picture was gone and the lady on the phone said that means he was adopted. I am just going to take her at her word and celebrate this news.

I tell you what, I checked that page many a time, only to end up crying myself to sleep. (I loved him a lot, plus I've got hormones like you wouldn't believe...and I'm sleep deprived!) But now he is living a new adventure and certainly giving lots of good snuggles, licks and motor purrs to his new owner.

More good news! FARM CATS! They are awesome! They live outside and you just don't know when they're going to show up. This one came out of the woods the day we were clearing all the of the trees we had just taken down the day before. He's so scrawny and was so sweet and affectionate. Rory wanted his name to commemorate the trees we were clearing out. I thought the name Chainsaw was perfectly ironic for such a mild, skinny, calm cat. Heh. I make myself laugh. Hearing Ivar say Chainsaw is the best.

But then we had sad news. Our neighbors two houses down came to introduce themselves and then told us they were going to take a bunch of cats to the humane society because their dogs were barking at them in the night and keeping them up. We had just met these neighbors and I didn't know what to say..."but hey, I love those cats that keep you up at night...especially the one I named Chainsaw."

But since Chainsaw was taken away, two more cats have appeared. And that's the final good news. Because farm cats just keep multiplying I'm finding out. And if you put a little dish of milk out for them, they'll come back every time.

cow hunts

With Ivar's love for cows, we have added a new pastime to our family adventures: cow hunts. We try to find gravel roads we haven't been on before and look for cows. It is the very best way to fill that sometimes very long hour between supper and bedtime. John Denver sings to us about country roads and being a country boy and we take in a setting sun, mooing cows, our beautiful new neighborhood, and a very happy boy in the back seat.