Formerly...

I had interesting thoughts and well formed sentence structure.
Then I had a baby.
A baby who is now commando-style crawling all over the house and finding every. single. piece. of. crap and floor fluff possible.
Luckily we have a dog who handles the crumbs because watching her eat bits of yesterday's dinner would gross me out more than the fluff does.
We call her the one-toothed wonder. She has had only one lower tooth for about three weeks, now. It is fully out, while her other teeth seem to be taking their time. I'd love to get a picture that shows off that single tooth, but she is very opposed to opening her mouth on command.
She also hates sleeves and getting her face wiped.
She loves the dogs. Would kiss them on their big wet noses if they let her. Loves to play with their paws if she can get that close. Normally they move away before she gets her chance.
(And don't worry, she is never alone with them. I am fully aware of the husky who chomped the new baby.)
She also loves music, in church or when Joey and Micah play. A cranky baby is easily remedied by a concert, preferably guitar.
Her parents are doing very well. In fact, we now foresee a time when she won't live with us anymore. I will get my brain back, and will miss her like crazy.
I just hope we get to babysit.

Uh, Waiter...

Rob was out with a friend today. A nice lunch.

Very nice.

The friend bit into his hamburger and THERE WAS A PUBIC HAIR IN THE BURGER. Not just any hair. A pubic hair.

(Shiver in revolted disgust.)

Yes, folks, this is true.

Said friend got his platter free, and a dessert! Woo Hoo. Rob continued to eat, apparently, and did not get a free meal for the vicarious trauma he suffered as a result of seeing his friend with pubic hair between his teeth.

I can't imagine what I would do if that was my restaurant.

I think I would do more than a free burger and dessert.

44

I've been trying to write a blog about my 44th birthday since well before my 44th birthday.

Babies. They take up a lot of your spare time.

Anyway, I feel pretty happy and content at 44. Our sons are in the process of launching, which is great fun to watch. Our dog is getting a grey muzzle and continues to be a source of mirth. Our marriage is better than ever. We are s-l-o-w-l-y picking away at things that need to be done in our home. I am in decent shape though I would like to be more disciplined at working out.

I can't wait to take Harmony to work on the bike. It seems the only way I can actually get exercise is to make it part of how I get around in a day.

And then there is work. Wow. Work has been good. We just climbed the last mountain of the past few months.

First there was a broken commercial dishwasher and no money to get a new one.
Miraculous events beyond my control resulted in a new dishwasher plus extra money.

Then there was a break in.
Miraculous events beyond my control resulted in a 100-fold return on books and toys. We went from planning a wee book corner with a chair to having a mini community library with over 4000 books and more to replenish the shelves when those ones start depleting.

Then Sandy died.
We miss him.

Then we planned an event for 150 elementary and high school students.
No miraculous events, but we survived. Perhaps there is a miracle in that.

Anyway, after all that, I'm going to take some time to coast. I always find myself wanting to plan the next thing. In this case, I'd love to plan for a new kitchen that would allow us to do more teaching and more catering. But, as my wise board member and friend said, 'wait for the strategic planning.'

That is in April. It would be good, smart, wise to wait.

Addendum

Having said all that, I am going to go INSANE if Harmony keeps waking up at night.

She was such a good early sleeper, and has gone for long periods of time without waking. But lately, whenever she sleeps upstairs in her little attic space, she wakes. Not when she has a sleep over at Auntie Linda's, not when she's at Kristen's. Just when she's in her own bed.

I don't know what to do! It's exhausting.

How do I work full time and have a life and get up every night with a baby? To be fair, Rob does his share, but no matter who gets up with her, we both wake up.

Thoughts on babies, birthing and life in general

I would never have imagined that I would approach my 44th birthday with a baby in tow.

Sometime during transition, almost 16 years ago, I grabbed Rob by the shoulders and said, "I am never doing this again."

And I didn't. Birth again, that is.

Over the years, we thought about adoption and fostering from time to time, but the time never seemed right, or ripe, depending on how you think of such things, and so we waited. Once Micah reached the age of 10, I figured that although we had been open to the idea, it wasn't something the universe held in store for us.  We were supposed to have our two sweet boys, and other babies would come through those we loved and knew already. We would be auntie and uncle, godparents, guardians and maybe some day Oma and Opa.

And then Harmony dropped in. With about 24 hours warning. I mean, we knew she was coming; we knew her parents, but we didn't know that we would have such a large part in raising her, at least for her early months. We still don't know how long our present situation will last, all we know is that for now we get to love her every day.

I feel simultaneously old and young with her: My knees creak when I walk up the stairs to get her up from her nap. Some days I feel arthritis in my fingers. Today I was researching how soon I could hook up a bike trailer and take her for a ride. When young moms talk about good deals and where diapers might be on sale, I listen for good first hand information. Sometimes I feel kind of ridiculous. I am certainly not as old as Sara when she gave birth to Isaac, but it does make me laugh. I am too old to be a Mama.

Harmony calls us Papa and Mimi. Or at least she will, when she's old enough to talk.

What is most interesting to me is that when Rob and I first married, I wondered whether we would ever have our 'own' children. I thought the world was over populated, that there were so many unwanted children that we should just take care of them, that I was incredibly fulfilled working with (other people's) teenagers that I didn't need any children of my own.

And then Rob had cancer and we were told it might result in no chance for children, ever.

Kinda realized I wanted kids after that. Thought that we should quit at two. Felt good about that. Still wanted to care for other people's kids. Figured it would never happen after the first 10 years passed by with no nudging in sight.

Interesting thing, God's timing. Long after I thought that dream had died, there came Harmony. And she came, not in the way I was expecting, but completely differently. We won't adopt her, I believe her parents will eventually gain custody, she will never be mine.

But this time we have, it is precious. She knows she is loved. She expects love.  She expects that each person she sees will love her and be interested in her funny little sounds and her show-offy head shake. She expects that if her diaper is dirty, someone will come, and it better be soon, to take it off. She expects a warm bath and the chance to kick. She expects new and interesting toys, and she expects a lot of attention. She has two big brothers after all. She also has a Mom and a Dad and a Mimi and a Papa and a whole bunch of cousins.

The other day I was holding her at church and she got really animated and excited. I looked up and there was Ben. She mostly just sees him on Monday nights, and he's busy with his own kids, but Harmony recognized him as one of her own.

That is part of the sweetness of life.

Not much going on...

It's a quiet night for me here at home now that Harmony is finally asleep and has stopped crying.

Wow. She had a hard time. An over stimulated day led to this veteran of parenthood's most difficult evening.

I am a little overstimulated, too. We did some educational activities with a school today, and I have to say that I have never encountered such an unpleasant group of high school students in my life. And working with teenagers used to be my job.

Not all of them were unpleasant, and I have to say that there were too many of them and it was after lunch and some of them had eaten and were probably carb filled and tired, and others had not eaten and so were hungry, but really.

I came home thankful for my boys who have learned to be polite even if they need a sandwich. Or have just eaten one. And may I say I came home to a nice neat house because Joey cleans up every Tuesday?

Joy. Even after an over stimulating kind of day.

Got 5.7 minutes?

I keep listening to Shane Koyczan and the Short Story Long. Especially the song I linked you to, This is my Voice.

You see, he is coming to Winnipeg on March 31 and we bought tickets to see him, and by the time he comes here, I am hoping I will be able to get through the whole piece without crying.

If you've never heard of him, you might remember that he performed in the Vancouver Olympics opening ceremonies. 

If you're not a link clicker, then here's a few lyrics to whet your appetite.

this is my voice, there are many like it, but this one is mine.

and this time it’s for the sons and daughters

who watch their mothers and fathers drown in shallow waters while

panning for the “American dream” in the polluted creek called the main street.

This is for the homeless people sleeping on steam vents,

making makeshift tents out of cardboard and old trash,

trying to catch 40 winks in between the crash of car wrecks

risking their necks by surviving another day so that they can starve

so that famine can carve their body into a corpse before their heart stops beating

so that men in a boardroom meeting

can make it harder for them to get welfare, health care,

it’s no wonder some of them pawn off their own wheelchair

and every time I walk ‘em by, I can’t help but feel at fault,

that maybe I didn’t search myself hard enough

for the control alt “s” so that I could save the world.

Or at least this little girl curled up into a ball

I’ve spent most of my life throwing compassion back like a fish that’s too small.

Gotta cash in my reality checks. drop her some spare fantasies

cause I’ve got three separate degrees from different universities,

but the most valuable thing I ever learned

was to believe people when they say “Please.”

This is my voice, there are many like it, but this one is mine.

How time does fly...

I've been back at work for over two weeks now and it has been busy busy busy. Lots of changes are coming and they kind of threw me for a loop for a few days but I think we have some pretty good solutions worked out for the interim and things are going to be okay.

One of the dearest things I've heard over the past two weeks is that shortly before he died, Sandy spoke with Marj and outlined all the things he did to 'take care' of me. Things that she should be sure to do if he was no longer around. (Yes, it has become pretty clear that Sandy knew he was dying.)

"Tell her to take a day off now and then... don't let her work too hard... don't let people tell her all their problems, she listens to too many people..."

I'm not sure if he included, "Make her morning coffee and make her oatmeal on days she didn't eat breakfast," but Marj has done that recently, as well.

I am loved.

So here I sit with Harmony while she munches Cheerios and smiles and babbles at me, and I drink coffee and contemplate our day off. I don't know too many babies who go to work every day, but she is so easy going she seems to take whatever comes her way without too much fuss.

She loved swimming at Pinewood this past Christmas. It's so fun to do things like that again. So fun to hear Rob play with a baby. So fun to see the boys hone their parenting skills. It's actually a great honour to teach your teenage sons the care and feeding of babies, and I find them to be able students.

They still know how to have fun doing those simple things, as well. One of the greatest times on our trip? Eating at Krispy Kreme. No, our trip was not lame... we went to Universal Studios and saw Harry Potter World, we walked the beach on the Gulf Coast of Alabama, we stayed in a cosy beach house. But the sweet simplicity of eating a dozen donuts was, well, just that. Sweet.

Last week, Joey received a letter of acceptance to the University of Winnipeg! It was expected, so I was surprised at how excited I felt for him. Off to university! I'm glad he still wants to go on trips with us.

And where will the next trip be? I am not happy if I am not plotting a trip, even if it's far in the future.

Back to work tomorrow

And how I will miss Sandy. 

What can I say about him?

He was my Selkirk Avenue Father. He was the unofficial CEO of Indian Family Centre. He was the Mother of the North End. He had an uncanny ability for watchfulness. He knew when something was out of the ordinary. He knew personal histories. He knew who he trusted, and who he didn’t. And he always had a good reason.

Oh, Sandy, how I will miss you. You taught me how to do my job. You worried about me like the proverbial mother hen. You made me coffee every morning, bossed me into eating breakfast, cooked me way too many eggs in way too much lard. You smoked cigarettes and even though you went through a pack a day, you shared half of that with anyone who would ask.

You played the tough guy very well, unless it concerned children or animals. 

I just realized, now that you are gone, that you had slowed down considerably. You weren't as desperate at 8 in the morning for the store to open so you could get your pack. 

I suppose you knew your heart was going. And so a bit of mine is gone, as well. 

Christmas Review

A lovely weekend, all in all.

There were games, skating, babies, food. Lots of food.

There were presents, laughter, puzzles, food. Lots of food.

I am so thankful I have a family that makes these long days of holidaying fun.

I ache for Sandy, knowing he is gone, knowing that I'll need to return to work without him.

Life is so weird sometimes. Happy and Sad. Joy and Grief. Loss and Heartache and Peace and Laughter.

Occurred to me...

that perhaps because he "wasn't much for religion," that Sandy did such a good job of exemplifying Jesus to me.

Duh.

Fare thee well, my friend...

Since I began my work at IFC, there has been one constant in my life.

Sandy.

He was there, waiting for me every morning. In fact, I got him keys to the centre when it became clear to me that he would wait patiently outside, sometimes for over an hour, even on cold winter days.

It wasn't that I was late to work. It was that he would come so very early.

I have learned this about ex-cons. They often don't sleep very well. And they never sleep in.

But I don't want you to think of Sandy as an ex-con. He was so much more than that.

He made me coffee every morning. It was so strong it took me a while before I could drink a cup down to the bottom. And I'm a good Dutch girl, used to the black stuff.

He called me "Darlin'," and meant it.

He made sure I ate breakfast. He bossed me about working less. He told me who I had to keep an eye on in the neighbourhood and who was okay. He noticed when things were amiss, out of order, suspicious. Every day he went to the back yard to pick up the paper. He remembered garbage day. In good weather, he sat on the bench outside the centre for hours. People would stop by to talk for 5 minutes or for an hour--it was all the same to him. He thought I was silly for wanting to pick up litter in the neighbourhood, but then proudly told everyone about the 'crazy white woman' he worked with. Once in a while he would burst into song--usually a little east coast shanty, maybe a bit of Johnny Cash. He had the sweetest voice.

I depended on him.  More than anyone else, he helped me do my job.

And yesterday, he didn't show up. Something was amiss.

By the time we got into his suite, it was apparent he had passed away sometime the night before. It looked like he was napping on his couch. Peacefully.

Sandy was an orphan. No living relatives that he knew of. He had one son whom he loved to distraction, and one grandson who he loved even more. He was gentle with women and babies. He was always 'safe' in a world where men are often not so safe for women. He had little patience for people who were rude, unkind, hypocritical, or fake in any way.

He loved bacon and eggs, dark chocolate, french fries, jam buster donuts, fish. I always wanted to buy him one of those Costco-sized cans of salmon, because he loved it so much.  Last Christmas, he gave me a kielbassa. It meant so much to me. A $10 sausage is a lot of  money when you are on an old age pension.

He always told me he wasn't much for religion, but he offered me the kind of love that the bible talks about. He showed me the love of Jesus. He made me feel special, cherished, cared for. He reflected the love of a Father-god.

I'm pretty sure there is a bench for him in heaven, where he can sit outside and smoke (because of course it is not bad for you, addictive or smelly in heaven). He will observe the goings-on. He'll know who is supposed to go where, and at what time. He'll dispense his wisdom in folksy sayings. He'll bounce the babies. He'll make people laugh.

And after a difficult, challenging and sometimes lonely life here on earth, he will have peace.

Here you go, Mom

Click on the links, soon! I think they are only available for 7 days.

First, we were broken into. Then newspaper wrote an article.

http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/wfpfeatured/theft-dashes-family-centres-plan-to-have-reading-centre-135564858.html

Then, CBC Radio interviewed me.

http://www.cbc.ca/inforadio/2011/12/14/a-simple-little-dream/ (I hope you have speakers on your computer!)

Then, the newspaper did an update.

http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/local/spirit-of-giving-thrives-after-toys-books-stolen-135643608.html

And so did CBC.

http://www.cbc.ca/inforadio/2011/12/16/update---a-simple-little-dream/

One other radio station and a few television news teams did some stuff, too, but there are no online links to that.

Enjoy!

Sleepy Sunday Morning

Harmony woke up around 6 this morning, and after Rob fed her, she came to snuggle in our bed for a while. She fell asleep again and then Rob brought me the most delicious cup of coffee ever.

I don't know what chemistry conspired to make it taste so good, but it's perfect in every way.

And so now I have a sleeping baby and a great cup of coffee and it strikes me that it doesn't take much to be in the moment and enjoy these times of great contentedness.

I'm also feeling content because we had such a nice night last night. Nothing spectacular, but nice.

The Jets won.
Joey and Micah were out with friends. I didn't get to meet Micah's friends, but I really like the boys Joey is hanging out with.
We had a nice visit with Wes and Linda.
Harmony was up past her bedtime and so content and cute. Usually she is in bed by 8 pm and cranky for the last 45 minutes or so. Last night she was up until 10 and said "good night" smiling.
We have a flight voucher that we are using up after Christmas. Have to fly in the States, and from Minneapolis, so it's a bit of work to redeem it but we are going to spend some time in Alabama(!) and Florida. If we are really ambitious we just might go west to New Orleans, as well.

I know it's silly that I am happy when the Jets win... who would have thought I'd be watching hockey? But when 3/4 of your family really cares, you kinda get caught up in the excitement. It's more fun to care than to resist caring.

One great bit of family news is that Rob will be doing a PhD, starting in January. Natural Systems Agriculture. Makes us sound soooo granola. I love it that he is interested and excited and has such a great opportunity.

More reason to be content.

Music to a Mother's Ears

"The only reason I didn't text you to tell you I was in a Wade Davis lecture was because I was in a Wade Davis lecture."

Hellllooo, Little Miss Muffet

Harmony takes a while to wake up. I hear her rustling around in her crib for quite a while before she starts to squawk a little bit.

I think learning to be alone, and comfortable in your cozy bed is a skill that many of us have forgotten in our Western world view of activity and schedules. And so I like to listen to her talk until she sends out a more insistent, "I think it's time for breakfast" kind of sound.

And so that's when I go and get her bottle ready. And when I come back, I see her on her tummy, sometimes still and sometimes wiggling, and I say,

"Hellllooooo Little Miss Muffet," and her little legs start to kick like crazy and she tries to roll over, and she looks at me and gives me the biggest smile of the day.

Good morning, Little Miss Muffet, it's time to start our day.

Black Friday

There is nothing, (do you hear me?) NOTHING that I could ever want, EVER, so much that I would stand in this crowd to get it.

Nothing. Not a couch. Not a car. Nothing.

Urban Outfitters is a fine little store. I have happily meandered through it a time or two. They sell cool stuff, cheap. So even if you're saving 50%, you're still just getting a sweater that will get pilly after a few washes, or a t-shirt that will twist just a little bit. You're still getting a funky little bedside lamp that will never work quite right or a clock radio that looks neat but can't keep time.

You'll enjoy the items for a little while, certainly, but they will never get old enough to pass down to your kids or be considered heritage. They'll end up at a garage sale for 50 cents or at the bottom of a bag you're bringing to the thrift store.

I am wondering what the people in that crowd wanted so badly that they tore inside like that? And I am thankful nobody fell, for surely they would have been trampled in the stampede.

Sweet Harmony

I really don't like calling Harmony our foster daughter. I really wish there was another way to describe our relationship.

We have a bunch of different names for her, none of which have 'foster' in them.

She is

Sweet Harmony

Honey Bun

Harms

Shwarm

Harmie

Shwarmie

Little Miss Harmony

Beautiful

Darling

Sweetie

Sweetie Pie

Girl

Little Miss Muffet

Baby

Baby Girl

My Baby

I think that's it. Joey and Micah mostly go the 'Harms Shwarms' route. Rob frequently chooses, "Girl," and I am the perpetrator of many of the others. I have always been addicted to Pet names.

Times Changed

We are hosting a party for Joey later today. One of those 'friends and family' parties. There will likely be a lot of people in the house, a lot of food, reasonable amounts of beer and wine, and lots of laughter.

I love those kinds of parties. I cannot believe that Joey is 18. I have a fully functioning adult son. I know everybody says that time goes fast, but I look at sweet baby Harmony, who is 5 1/2 months, and I remember so much about when my kids were that age. It seems so recent.

Having taken care of two infants 18 years apart, I can tell you times have changed.

Eighteen years ago walkers had recently been outlawed in Canada. Exersaucers  were recently invented. We didn't have one. You still had to wind up an infant swing and the crank made so much noise that you would wake a sleeping baby in terror when you had to re-start it. We didn't have one of those, either.

Nobody blogged or tweeted or anything. I think I did my first internet search on Euthanasia at an internet cafe the year after Joey was born. I remember so clearly because I had a few hours to myself and I was working on a paper and had heard about this great new thing, the internet, and how you could do research on it.

I found nothing on Euthanasia. (Imagine that. I just did a quick search and got 10 200 000 hits in under 1 second.)

I remember that search so clearly because a guy tried to chat me up (I suppose I was still young enough to get chatted up in an internet cafe).

"Whatcha searchin'?" he asked.

"Euthanasia." It was a very convenient and conversation stopping reply.

Times have changed. Diapers have changed. Toys have changed.

I suppose I have changed, as well.

Astounded

I am astounded at my lack of motivation today.

Normally, I have a pretty healthy lack of motivation. Today, however, I am extraordinarily unmotivated, even considering my general abilities in this regard.

I have managed to feed, burp and change the baby, so no worries there. And she's sleeping for hours on end. You would think I would use that time efficiently, at least to read a book or wipe up crumbs or put on some make up or do my hair.

You'd think I'd imagine I could go for a walk.

Nope.

I did try to watch three different movies on Netflix, couldn't even do that successfully.

I have finally and officially given up. No more movies, I shall try and tackle crumbs.

Not sure who is going to win.

The recipe

Just noticed this is my 2000th post!

Anyway, here is the link to the recipe. Crispy Oven Baked Chicken Wings

I upped the cayenne and used corn flour in place of wheat flour. Didn't bother with the butter. Didn't need it.

Huge pack of wings gone in less than 24 hours. They never made it to supper.

I think they were well liked.

I discovered I like to buy chicken wings with the tips already cut off, however. They kind of stretch out and give me the creeps when the tips are still attached.

Cobble them up!

I went looking for a crispy oven fried chicken wing recipe today. The boys love chicken wings but I don't much like deep frying on a regular basis.

One in particular looked good. Five starts all around and lots of reviews.

Thought I should read some of the reviews, just to see what others had done with the recipe.

"They were so good we cobbled them up!" said one satisfied reviewer.

Yes, dear, cobble them right up.

Sounded so cute to me.

Reminiscing...

I was just thinking about Rob's mom and I could not remember the date of her death. And so I went scrolling through some of my old blog posts.

And I remembered why I loved to blog.

Loved. I recognize the past tense.

I think I still would love it, if I just had the time and mental energy. Life takes a lot out of me these days, and while I feel like I have enough energy to manage, and be happy, and cook, and go to work, I don't have a lot of extra energy to write.

Never looks like it, but writing takes (me) a lot of down time. I heard someone say once that you have to be really lazy to be creative. I took that to mean, lots of time to sit around and think. And then think some more.

I'm going to try and find me that space. Because there are a lot of things I would have forgotten if I hadn't written about them at one point in time.

And my days are good, and I want to remember them.

Today

Today I actually picked an almost-ripe tomato out of the garden. Somehow it had been missed in the green tomato pick off, back when we still thought a killing frost would arrive sometime soon.

Well today is cool and breezy, but there it was, a valiant tomato that had actually turned a decent orange coloured shade during the last few weeks.

It's been a good summer for vegetables.

It's smurry time

"Smurry" is what my mom did with the summertime glut of ripe tomatoes.

It's probably the simplest dish I carry with me from my childhood, but it also makes my mouth water like nothing else.

All you have to do is saute a few onions (to a translucent but not really browned state) and add fresh, ripe tomatoes.

I flirted with olive oil for a while, but this dish really needs a bit of butter. It's only a tablespoon or two. Other than that, the only change I've made over the years is that this year I am slipping the skins off the tomatoes and removing some of the seeds.

Keep cooking it on the stove until the tomatoes reduce a bit... maybe 20 minutes. I'm waiting for them to be done right now--got about 8 minutes left.

I can't really think about anything else than my smurry.

We used to eat it on toast. Now I don't bother, I just spoon up a big bowl all on its own.

I used to think 'smurry' was a Dutch word, apparently it's not. Oh, how I love it.

Some days I feel SOOOOooo lucky....

Thought there was a Purolator guy at the door. (Micah is expecting an online shopping shipment.)

Instead, a friend.

A country-living friend.

With gorgeous garlic he grew in his garden.

And eggs he got from his chickens.

And a mandolin for the boys to play while he is waiting to play it again.

Are you jealous yet?

I would be.

Some days I feel SOOOooooo lucky.

Feeling like the Cat Lady

Except we've got three dogs.

We always have Jed, of course, our one and only foray into dog ownership.

Since Dixie lives in the same house as us, we tend to share in her care and upkeep.

And now, Buddy. Buddy is visiting while his family attends a funeral in Ontario.

It seems that male dogs, when visiting, are particularly interested in whatever smell (spayed) Dixie emotes. They spend a lot of time with tails erect, wishing they still had the particular equipment needed to get it on.

I told Buddy we were having none of that, not in *our* house.

Besides, they are cousins.

Gross and grosser.

Jed seems to feel he needs to protect me from visiting males. While I myself feel that I am immune to Buddy's advances, Jed is not so sure. He sits, trembling ever so slightly, prepared to defend my honour at a moment's notice. Dixie also sits close by, preferably under a table, hoping that I will come to her defence.

Everybody is giving off excited dog smell.  I am feeling a little smothered.

I'm sure that once everyone figures out their place in the pack, we'll all be able to relax. And hopefully stop with the hormones.

As long as they know that I'm top dog, we'll all be fine.

In the meantime, I'm thankful it's not cats.

Tip.

If you think you might have a spider bite, do not google image search "spider bite."

Very VERY gross. Don't say I didn't warn you.

If you think your child has an ear infection, sniff their ear. A bad ear infection will smell, shall we say, infection-like.

(That because a friend of mine just mentioned her child has an ear infection and it is smelly.)

That is two whole tips for the price of one. Consider yourself lucky.

Busy busy

There have been three family weddings within the span of one month. Although we couldn't make it to the last one, having two in Winnipeg created enough of a whirlwind to keep us busy.

My mom has been in hospital. Sepsis pneumonia and an infected heart valve. Yup, that is about as bad as it sounds. We are thankful that after two weeks she is on  the mend and home with home care.  She is very weak, however.

Joey and Micah have really and truly started a love affair with golf.

Joey got his driver's license! Very exciting.

This summer has been fabulous. Sun, heat, very little rain. Gorgeous.

Baby Harmony is growing like a weed! She has gained more than three pounds in 2 months, after a small start of just 5 lbs 8 oz. And no, we don't know how long we will have her, and  yes, it will be hard to give her up.

Watched The Adjustment Bureau with Micah last night. I didn't think it deserved the negativity it got. It was a nice, mindless, enjoyable 2 hours. Plus, it had Matt Damon in it.

I love postsecret.

This captures exactly how I have felt in the past... down to the rainy day in Paris.

There is no one I would rather be lost with than Rob.

Not feeling very lost these days. It's nice.

Walk, walk, walk...

Because Rob and I are both working full time this summer (the first summer we've both worked full time in the lives of our kids!) the boys are more on their own.

This means Micah has to get himself to the chiropractor all by himself. The chiro is about 4 kilometers away from our home. (Though apparently it is in alternate universe as well, according to Micah).  The other day, Micah walked to the chiropractor first thing in the morning, forgetting they were closed. And so he walked home.

And then he walked back again, at the proper time.

That boy, he gets in a lot of steps.