a kiddie parade

Out town had its big four-day celebration this weekend. It's sort of a mix of cowboys, guns, bank robbers and good immigrant pioneers who defend their town. We participated in Townie Night, a discounted night for all the locals and the Kiddie Parade and went to the big parade. I was looking for cowboy and cowgirl outfits for the kids and asked Elsie to try on a cowgirl hat. She looked at me like I was an idiot and told me with a scowl, "I'm going to be a kitty!" You know, because it was a kiddie parade. So I had one cowboy and one kitty.

She insisted on having socks on her hands like little paws and was very, very pleased.

Ivar got to wear part of a costume that my Grandma Harrington made for my dad, when he was a little boy. He loved being a "roadie cowboy" (his version of a rodeo cowboy) and practicing his lasso. At one point during the kiddie parade he lasso'd his foot and this cracked him up for a good half a block.

Elsie pushed around her pink stroller with her pink kitty, wearing her pink kitty skirt and waved at the very few spectators that came to watch. She was the happiest kitty in the kiddie parade.

extravagant and wasteful

I signed the kids up for preschool two mornings a week. We had our very first day on Monday and it was so fun. The kids were so excited and I love, love, love that they are in the same class. Dropping them off was more adorable than sad...they were side by side playing in the sand box and both stood to wave goodbye to me, beaming and proud to be there.

I love them so much.

Then I looked at the clock and tried to figure out the very best way to use the two hours I had before me. Time like this is so, so rare for me. Rory had hinted that I go grocery shopping as we are out of all staples in the house, but I didn't want to waste my two hours of downtime at Cub. Truth-be-told, I'm not sure how many of these personal hours I am going to have before a little baby joins the mix. This was my time and I felt very protective.

I drove to Caribou and I had my laptop along, but then realized I had forgotten my mouse and what I wanted to work on was a lot photoshop stuff...and not having a mouse would be really annoying. So I drove home and looked around, trying to decide what I could do.

I knew I should accomplish something. But I also knew I should rest. But I knew there really were things I could tackle while alone in the house. But I also knew the day was glorious and sitting in a camping chair outside would be perfectly fine too.

Sara has a new song on her new album that talks about time, and how we use it. How we are called to rest, called to play, called to relax. The song is an invitation to join her on an adventure and she says, "It will be extravagant and wasteful." Those words hit me so hard the first time I heard the song. Because that is how it feels when we're really resting. Extravagant. And wasteful. But we're still called to it. We're still commanded by God to be still, and to set aside one out of the seven days he has given to us to be restored and renewed.

I wish I could say that I poured myself an ice water and went outside. Instead a payed a visa bill, sorted a pile of papers and edited a few pictures. And all the while I wondered why I couldn't rest. And it made me think to write this blog post.

Sometimes productivity does feel restorative. But I want the lack of productivity to feel that way too. And I certainly don't want lack of productivity to feel condemning.  Because it is okay just to be.

I have another chance this week. Maybe I'll be extravagant and wasteful with those two hours.

cereal

If I could go back and retake this picture I'd put my legs together and spread them out in front of me. Might have been a bit more flattering. But the fact that I was even sitting on a curb was impressive enough and I do like how happy we all are in this shot! 

I wrote earlier this month of how I was done with carbs and grains and sugars again, and as a result got rid of all of the cereal in the house. In a hilarious twist, when Rory asked Elsie what she would like to buy with her earned quarters she proclaimed, "Cereal!" We laughed so hard. And when they came back from Target she proudly showed me her Strawberry Special K cereal that "has strawberries in it!!!"

When she got her cereal, Rory picked up a few boxes for himself, and just like that, cereal is back in our house.

I haven't had a bowl though. I'm good with my smoothies and eggs.

Actually, that was true until last night when Elsie woke up upset about something at 1:30. She was inconsolable, out of her mind, and Rory finally got her back down around 2. I could hear him clearing his throat for about an hour and finally a little after 3:00 he came downstairs and we started talking like it was the middle of the day. I followed him into the kitchen where he poured himself a big bowl of honey nut cheerios.

At first I was just going to watch him eat his bowl. But then we started talking about Hillary Clinton. And I decided to pour myself a bowl. Then we talked about Donald Trump. And poured myself another bowl. We kept eating cereal and talking about our crazy world and it was so awesome. We were equally frustrated and concerned that we were not getting any good sleep, but what are you going to do? Eat cereal. And talk politics.

There are lots of parts of marriage and romance that are hard to capture. The beauty of steadfastness, the gift of healing time, the quiet comfort of knowing each other well. Those themes don't really make their way into many movies or novels, but they're the very best parts. And now I'd add middle-of-the-night conversations to the list. Hard to explain why this moment was so sweet and romantic with two exhausted parents loading up on carbs at 3 in the morning. But we both commented the next morning how great of a night it was.

And cereal has never tasted so good in all of my life.

a secret of the universe: toy organization

I am about to totally brag. And if it bothers you, I apologize. But I have unlocked a secret in toy organization that I wish I had figured out four years ago. Instead I have been stepping on toys in the middle of the night for almost five years, and wondering how on earth we could tame this mess of duplos, puzzle pieces, doll house toys, thomas trains, blocks, kinex, lincoln logs and game board pieces. But I have done it! And I want to tell you how.

It should also be noted that our farm house doesn't have a livable basement (it's limestone from the 1890's) or a play room. If we had a separate room for toys we might have a different system. But because our bedrooms are our playrooms, we had to figure something out.

I know I've already shared the toy organization I implemented three weeks ago (there is a picture in that post). But I just have to say it a little clearer, because it has changed our lives. OUR VERY LIVES!!! It began with a weekend of throwing and giving a lot away, sorting like items into storage bins, and labeling every container. (The labeling has been a nice feature for babysitters or cousins so they can help with the clean up too.)

But now, this is how it actually plays out in our day-to-day:

First, the toys are up high. They are in the kids' closet, which is the only closet in our home. No kidding. But the kids can't reach them and this is key. Any toys that are accessible are going to be scattered on the floor, so none are accessible. (Except their books, which they are suddenly very interested in, as there are no other choices! Awesome!) This even means the food that goes with the play kitchen is out of reach. And the marbles that go with the marble run. Everything is inaccessible.

Second, each kid can choose three items for Quiet Play Time. Each day after lunch (usually around 1:00) both kids go to different rooms to play for 90 minutes. 60 minutes alone and then 30 minutes together. Ivar has his own timer that he sets and takes this job very seriously. And each day they can select new toys. I think what this changes is that they are focused on only three choices to play with. And they play for so much longer! When all toys were out and accessible I think they were overwhelmed with what to do with their time. Or the room was so messy, nothing looked fun at all. But on their clean floor those three choices are very clear and suddenly they play hard. Sometimes longer than the 90 minutes!

Thirdly, clean up is obvious. They know exactly where to put their toys when it's time to clean up. Sometimes we pick up right after Quiet Play Time, other times just before bedtime. But they know they have to have their three items picked up, and know right where to put the items.

And forth...I really know what my kids like to play with. And what they have no interest in, at this time. This is helpful for Ivar's birthday gifts...he loves kinex and looking at the booklet to copy a creature they have pictured. He is so proud. I think he has graduated from duplos, but he is definitely on to Legos. He spent much of Labor Day at Mimi and Papa's building houses and buildings and just picked out a step-by-step Lego book at the library.

All in all, it is a bit more facilitating on my part. I have to be up there to get toys up and down. But three weeks in, and I haven't had to pick up a single toy! Not one! Mothers of the world, I have cracked the code. And it might sound rigid or strict, but somehow these boundaries have brought order to our chaos and fun back to our playtime. My kids love it as much as Rory and I do. It might work for you too.

38 weeks

I have a goal this weekend to get a decent picture of me at 38 weeks pregnant. Until then, I'll let you gaze at the soybeans in the field behind our house that are turning bright yellow right before our eyes.

My friend Shannon told me right when we got pregnant with this baby that the best thing she did when she was pregnant with her last baby was have professional house cleaners come and deep clean her home just before her due date. Largely because at 9 months pregnant you're not really scrubbing your bathtub anymore (...or ever), but also because after the baby you don't have to stare at all the dust and dirt while enjoying your new babe. So we did that yesterday and I think my house is

cleaner today than the day we moved in. Best decision ever. Tuck this little wisdom away for when you have a baby or your sister/daughter/friend has one...

Elsie got a cold last week and it has worked its way through our whole family. We've burned through an insane amount of kleenex at this house, but I think we are on the upswing. At least I really hope we are.

I got an email from The Baby Center today telling me that at 38 weeks my baby is the size of a leek. I hope not. I think they take their measurements based on the length of the vegetable, but a leek just seems too scrawny to be accurately associated with the seven pound babe inside of me. 

On Saturday night I ended up going grocery shopping by myself at the last minute. The plan was for the family to go, but we had car trouble, so I jumped in the truck to do it on my own. I hadn't fully thought through how tired I was to do a full week's worth of grocery shopping and by the end I was exhausted. I was walking from the last aisle to the check out lines at a very slow swagger when a very elderly man came out from his aisle, pushing his cart, to walk towards the same check out line. We were neck and neck. We walked with the same fatigued posture and he smiled big at me.  We had a sweet and unspoken, though very bonding, moment. Then he turned into lane 7 and I went to lane 5. 

The kids are doing awesome and start preschool next week. I have them in for two mornings a week, in the same class, and we are all very excited. They can't wait to bring their backpacks to hang on their hooks and I can't wait to have some consistent, undivided time with the new baby. I have started calling them my velcro. They must sense all the change that is to come, but I cannot leave a room without two bodies physically finding their way to be as close to me as possible. Lots of cuddles and snuggles are needed lately and it is very sweet. (and I'm back to edit that word a bit...sometimes smothering. It's sweet when I'm thinking about it. It's smothering when I'm living it...)

At our midwives appointment this week Elsie asked if the midwives would listen to her baby too. So when I was done, she crawled up on the table and they listened for her baby and let her listen. Ivar was quite sure someone needed to tell Elsie that she does not actually have a baby in her, but Rory was quick to quiet him so she could have her special time. She told the midwives proudly, "only girls have babies."