I made it.

So, what was with all this blogging in November?

November is, in fact, National Blog Posting Month, a.k.a. NaBloPoMo. Last year my sister successfully participated in National Novel Writing Month, a.k.a. NaNoWriMo. While the thought of writing a 50,000-word novel in a month sounds exhilarating to me, let's face it. It's a little ambitious for me at this point. (And when she first told me, I thought it had something to do with rhymes and science -- nanos and rhyme-ohs -- and I was seriously confused.)

Yes, my dear sister, blogging has definitely grown on me since I started out in secret less than two years ago. This is the first month I have posted every day. And, by the way, all of these stories are true. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

So, since I'm insecure like that and only want to do things I know I can actually succeed at, (please don't psycho-analyze me. I've got Dr. Laura for that.) I've been participating in NaBloPoMo unofficially. Of course, now that I actually look at their website to get the link for this post and see that there are prizes, I'm kicking myself for not signing up and doing it officially.

But I do have one confession to make. I schedule my posts. Is that cheating? Instead of actually sitting down and writing every day, I sit down and write several posts and schedule them to appear at future dates and times. Thank you, blogger. I actually LOVE this feature. But. . . do I have to make time to write and post every single day for it to actually count? Because I'm a mom of three small children, and I have not yet achieved any sense of structure in my life, at least on a daily basis. That's such a short period of time in my life.

So, since I'm not going to win a prize, and that's no fun, how about if you win a prize? Leave a comment, and I will randomly pick someone to win a random prize. How's that for fun?

Unfortunate

Well, who in the world could this be?


Dear Elmo,

I'm terribly sorry. I know your tag specifies "surface washable only," but at my house, if you get peed on and you fit in the washing machine, you go in the washing machine.

I know I should have intervened before the unthinkable happened, but there is only so much a mom can do when her four-year-old declares today "no pants day" to her two-year-old brother, who promptly sees all the wisdom in his sister's statement and none at all in his mother's protests.

I should have been more suspicious the first time said two-year-old came out of the only room where "no pants day" was being celebrated (his own) with only a shirt on. Instead, I diligently set to work denying yet another sign that we are approaching the dreaded potty training stage with this nearly three-year-old and just put a clean diaper back on him.

It only went downhill from there, I know. Again, I'm sorry. But look on the bright side. You survived. All of it. You look great coming out of the washing machine. And anyone who can be happy about singing this song was probably singing in the washing machine as well. Give me a little credit. At least I knew better than to put you in the dryer.

Love,
My kids' mom

Dear Sarah, we love you.

I believe you faithful readers will recognize these characters:

Eeyore has been with us for about three years now. Pooh is coming up on his second anniversary with us. But wait, you say. Who's that newcomer on the right?

Oh yes. She did it again. Amazing Aunt Sarah has sent us a winner! And of course we couldn't wait three more months to enjoy this amazing cuteness. So, happy 1st birthday best present of all time has come to Rose a little early. And she is excited. And she just can't hide it. . .


Oh man. Oh man.


It's a wonder I got that first picture of all the characters, kids included, looking presentable. The staged photo shoot quickly disintegrated into mutiny and chaos. I don't know exactly what Ellen is doing here, but she's got everyone in a tight little circle of "we're playing and you're not invited." And to think that at the age of one she was actually afraid of Eeyore. Not anymore.

We love you, Aunt Sarah. You rock. Thanks for continuing to take our ridiculous orders seriously. As if you had sent us a catalog. By the way. . . how many more options are there? ;)

Moderation

It's a practical word for these holidays associated with so many food traditions. However, the title of my post refers to something else entirely.

You may have noticed I have enabled comment moderation. Then again, if you are one of the hundred or so readers of this blog who rarely or never comment, you will have noticed nothing.

Recently, someone identified as "Beth" left a comment. I'm sorry, Beth, but I don't believe I know who you are. And as your comment revealed little about you, and I couldn't figure out if it was supposed to be a sincere observation or just an advertising vehicle, I deleted it. If you would kindly identify yourself (as others have) in the future, I would be more inclined to accept your contribution.

This is the closest I have ever come to considering going private. It's probably inevitable, although not in the forseeable future. For now, I'll just ponder the significance of this new aspect of the word "moderation" in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope you're all enjoying your turkey out there. Thanks for visiting our blog on a holiday. While I'm on vacation, and until I get around to actual pictures of Thanksgiving Day, please enjoy our local library Thanksgiving story time.

We read books about Thanksgiving (in which the librarian skipped the lines about prayers, thus leaving an unfinished rhyme. I was sitting close enough to be reading along. I know. Too close.)

What's not to love about Thanksgiving stories, Thanksgiving crafts, and Thanksgiving food? (and ham. That's not really a traditional Thanksgiving food, but it was still good.)

This one's for you, Mary. Even in the United States. It's universal. Like saying "cheese!"

I love this cute lady and her cute kids. We always run into each other at the library and the park, and she always talks to me. So friendly. I am thankful for friendly people, because I suspect that I am not always one of them, but I would really, really like to be.

I am also thankful for librarians. Ms. Erica and Ms. Julie are our children's librarians and they rock.


Oh yes, the crafts. Pumpkins, acorns, squash, turkeys, and leaves. And long ribbons. And coloring. Coloring to Ellen means filling every white space completely in with as many colors as possible. Coloring to Jack means drawing a long, squiggling line with one color and calling it good.

Happy Thanksgiving! And please, don't forget to give thanks. Or skip the part about thanks on purpose.

Done!

A week and a half ago, this is where I was at. Lots of fabric to be sewn together.

Last night, this is where I ended up. This is just the quilt top, which I will take to my mom's house, where she will be in charge of making this into a finished quilt. My kids know it's "Mary's blanket," and they think it's already done.

I really, really, really like high contrast quilts. I recently read that while quilts with high value contrast are "exciting to look at" they are probably not appropriate for a child's room, for example. Good point.

It wouldn't be a quilt I had a hand in making if it didn't have stars. And glitter. There's something about that Harry Potter fabric.

I am really loving the fall colors this fall. L<3VE!

The UPS truck

Ellen: Daddy! Daddy! The UPS truck brought me a box!
Daddy: Who's it from?
Ellen: The UPS truck.
Daddy: How do you know it's for you?
Ellen: It has my name on it!

Daddy: What's inside?
Ellen: Another box!

For her birthday, Ellen learned the word "easel."

She already knew the word "awesome."

Happy Birthday, babe!

My garden box

This garden box was a Valentine's Day gift from Jack's dad. We grew dwarf peas in the spring to the great delight of my kids, who discovered that peas straight from the vine are delicious.

In the summer I planted herbs and a bunch of vegetable seedlings I started in the house. What with the hot, dry Lubbock summer, neglecting to water, and leaving town, everything pretty much shriveled up and died.

I finally got tired of having a box of dirt surrounded by rocks that ended up in the dirt or all over the grass and went and bought plants. I went for the most colorful, some perennial, and resistant to cold weather plants I could find. The kids and I planted them that night, and then it rained for the first time in months. Beautiful.

These flowers have not disappointed. As long as I snip off the spent blooms, they keep blooming. I love how bright the pinks are. And I love that Jack Jack knows which flowers are dianthus.

We've had several freezing nights, and you wouldn't even know it from the look of my flower garden. I love growing things.

Friday Spanish, documented

En la feria de San Juan
En la feria de San Juan yo compré una guitarra, tarra, tarra, tarra, la guitarra.
Vaya usted, vaya usted, a la feria de San Juan.
Vaya usted, vaya usted, a la feria de San Juan.

En la feria de San Juan yo compré un piano, la, la, la, la, la, la, el piano.
Vaya usted, vaya usted, a la feria de San Juan.
Vaya usted, vaya usted, a la feria de San Juan.

En la feria de San Juan yo compré una pandereta, eta, eta, eta la pandereta.
Vaya usted, vaya usted, a la feria de San Juan.
Vaya usted, vaya usted, a la feria de San Juan.

Use any instruments you like!

Baby's view of a party

Yogurt again!

I made yogurt and was trying to decide what to do with it all, when a friend suggested I use it for our preschool Spanish class snack.

Perfect. Each child got a bowl of plain yogurt, and then we discussed flavor options, which they could choose from. I had sugar, vanilla, sprinkles, frozen raspberries and blueberries, cinnamon, and nutmeg on the sweet side; salt and pepper grinders, taco seasoning, dill, and chips for dipping on the savory side.

All of the kids seemed really happy with their choices, and the moms were especially loving the yogurt chip dip made from taco seasoning. You could also use onion soup mix here.

If you missed it last summer, here's the recipe again for homemade yogurt, with some tips I have learned along the way.

Yogurt
8 cups milk (whole is recommended until you get the hang of yogurt making, but you can use skim, 1%, 2%, or reconstituted powdered milk)
1 packet unflavored gelatin
1 cup plain yogurt (must have active cultures)

Turn your EMPTY crock pot on low.

In a saucepan, heat milk and gelatin to 190 F. Place pan in a cool water bath until milk reaches 110 F, stirring occasionally. Pour mixture into crock pot and stir in plain yogurt. Turn off crock pot and let sit for 8-12 hours. Refrigerate finished yogurt. You can use your homemade yogurt to start your next batch.

Tips:

1. I only used whole milk the first time I tried this. I have always made it since then with powdered milk. To make a quart of powdered milk, run your tap water until it's hot, then pour a quart of hot water in the blender. With the blender on low, slowly add 1 cup of powdered milk. Repeat to make 2 quarts. Add one packet of plain gelatin to one of the quarts of milk and blend until smooth. Scoop off the foam (or let sit until foam disappears). Then strain and heat.

2. After turning off your crock pot, place a towel over the lid to slow the cooling process.

3. I always check after 8 hours, and it's always done and ready to go in the fridge. I transfer the yogurt to clean yogurt containers I've saved.

These colors make me happy.

In spite of what may seem like all the complaining I've done about a huge project I've been working on since late summer, I now can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It's going to be beautiful. And I just feel happy looking at these colors that I never would have picked for a project for myself.

More to come. . .

Something I need more of

No, not chocolate. It's gratitude. I'm actually working on this. Maybe I'll let you know how it goes.

My little wild thing

I love Rose's mouse pajamas, and she is so cute sleeping and snuggling with her bear (who is wearing bunny pj's).

Someone told me these pj's reminded them of Where the Wild Things Are, one of my favorite books by Maurice Sendak, and now also a movie.

Rose is shaping up to be quite the little wild thing.

She moves constantly, wiggles, kicks, waves, laughs, crawls after her siblings, tastes, bites, rolls, and is generally engaged at all times. Except when she's sleeping. Then she is absolutely cherubic.

Hello, Cupcake!

After my cousin posted this recipe and instructions for making butterfly cupcakes, I saw the same book at my mom's house last month. Mom helped Ellen decide these would be perfect for her birthday.


I made the cupcakes and butterfly wings the night before the party. Then I assembled everything the next morning. When Jack saw them all sitting on the counter in the kitchen, he asked me where I had gotten the butterflies. I told him that's what I had been working on the night before.


To which he replied, "Oh. . . you're one of those moms."


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