Elsie is 9 months old

Oh Elsie. I love you so much. You are a happy girl. Your personality is showing itself more and more. You started talking a lot more and you like to scream and screech. It is obvious you are proud that you can be loud. You talk in your crib for a long time before we come to get you, practicing your sounds. You now can crawl and sort of inch worm your body around the house. You are fast, and gates had to go up immediately once you learned you could move.

You smile a lot and often scrunch your nose and eyes when you're really happy. That's my favorite, because then we get to see all of your teeth. (all 4.5 of them.)

You say, "Mama" clear as a bell and I love it. You can pretty much get me to meet any of your needs with that magical word. It stops me in my tracks.

You do fine in the nursery at church, and fine when others hold you. But if you sniff out that I am about to leave you, you can get quite nervous. As in a big lower lip and crocodile tears ready to pour out. That's okay. I know we're good pals and it's hard to be apart.

You are a tremendous eater and love taking a bottle. I like giving you your bottle because we just stare at each other and smile. You put your fingers in my mouth and scratch my cheeks. When you're ready for sleep you are happy to be set in your crib. Your bear from Ruby and pink blanket from Mimi are your favorite things to snuggle with in your crib. 

When you're out of your crib you adore your baby doll and the monkey Katherine gave you. Both make you shriek with delight. 

Elsie, you are sunshine to me.
I am so pleased I get to be your mama.
And overwhelmingly grateful that you are my girl.
Love,
Mama ma mama

switching rooms

We switched rooms with Ivar this week.  I was so excited to move into the bigger room. So happy at the thought of having a closet in my room, a reading chair, creating a little haven where I might find some quiet. 

Well, it was a nice thought. But it didn't work...at all. Ivar's new room is the only access to Elsie's room. So when Elsie woke up each morning, she woke her brother too. Who happens to be very crabby if he doesn't wake up on his own. And naps were terrible too. Ivar goes down before Elsie for the afternoon nap. So I had trouble sneaking Elsie into her crib without waking Ivar. 

After five nights of miserable sleep, Rory announced that we would be switching rooms again. It was the right thing to do. Our kids are good sleepers, and this just wasn't worth it. So we took our queen bed apart again, moved the mattresses back through the doorways, lifted the crib through both doors, switched the dressers, brought all the toys back to the big room and switched all the wall art again. 

I have a feeling we won't be switching rooms for a long, long time.

*And yes, that is Ivar's crib. The boy hasn't tried getting out yet, and based on stories from other parents of kids not staying in their beds, we decided to keep Ivar in his crib until he's 17. 

...Or until he actually attempts to get out.

so much maple syrup

Well this has been quite the year to try our hand at making maple syrup. The conditions have been perfect, the sap is plentiful and we'd consider our first year a success. Rory has collected over 90 gallons (!!!) of sap and we can hardly keep up with the evaporating. We found food-grade 5 gallon buckets to keep the sap until we can get it boiled down. On Saturday night I came home around 10:30 after meeting my sister for dinner. I turned into our lane and found Rory next to his fire, waiting for the sap to boil down. It was quite the site.

We're mostly excited because this much syrup is going to mean lots of gifts for family and Rory is hoping to bottle enough to sell. We have learned a lot about Minnesota Grown at our farm class and are really excited about the thought of recouping some of our costs this first year.

body image and baby bangs

We came home from the library with this book in the stack. Ivar loves it and constantly asks if we can go there. He likes the idea of going swimming.

I love the book because each page is like body therapy for me.  Each mom pictured seems to say to me, "it's okay. we've got little kids. life is hairy. you're doing your best. we're all okay. besides, you are most beautiful when you are taking good care of your kiddos"

The words are few in this book, but very accurate. And the facials on the mom are awesome. She looks tuckered after this adventure.

Having babies take a toll on the body. And being chronically tired often results in lots of high sugar "quick energy" grabs. And having kids can lead a mom to many thoughts about her identity and all that it means to be "Mama" but also all that it means to still be "Becca." And as if all of that were not enough, she's given a mohawk of whispy hairs, right in the front of her forehead, called Baby Bangs.

I never got baby bangs with Ivar. But I'm making up for that now. I saw a friend post a picture of her baby bangs on instagram and it made me laugh out loud. Thought I'd post my magnificent front poof in an attempt to laugh at the mess I have to deal with each morning.

feathers and chicken feet

The girls are growing. They change every single day. Mostly they're loosing their fluff and growing feathers. But I cannot believe how quickly this happens. Feathers literally grow overnight.

We got our chickens from a woman named Theri who sells fresh eggs as well as baby chicks. I feel so fortunate that we found her. I wrote to her about how the chickens seems sort of restless in their box and she emailed right away explaining that they would go through a stage of being kind of spazzy. That they're teenagers now and will be a bit flighty no matter how we've spoiled them. And that they get restless too because they do a lot of itching when their feathers come in. It was helpful to know. We've exchanged many more emails and I'm learning so much.

If you're considering ever getting chickens, I highly recommend Theri. Her email is: prairiechickpoultry@gmail.com 

Here's Butterscotch Cookies. Look at how she's growing! 

And now, for a chicken confession:
I have this funny thing with the chicken feet. I can handle the flapping, the pecking and the pooping. But I guess I sort of have a fear of chicken feet. Talons, if you will. I can't look at them when I'm holding the chick. I can obviously have them touching me. They're soft and sort of tickle but if I look at them while holding the chickens, I freak out a bit. As in, Ivar comes running asking, "Mama, are you okay?" And Rory asked if there was a crow in with the chickens because apparently that's the kind of sound I make when I look at the chicken feet on my hand.  They're sort of wormy to me. Reptile like. And I have a real fear of reptiles and... worms.

Anyway, it's silly. In my head I can recognize how ridiculous this is.  But in the moment I pit out a bit and have to look at something other than those little feet resting on my hand.

So now you know. I am phobic of talons. And the reality I am trying to wrap my head around is this: they are only going to get bigger.