tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47141096031097096742024-03-05T16:20:22.294-08:00Dragonfly HomesteadTales from my crazy lifecarricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-85955057079231238022018-10-29T10:36:00.001-07:002018-10-29T10:36:58.692-07:00Living Among UsLiving in a very rugged rural land you learn very quickly that you are seldom alone. In Southern Humboldt County you will often find far more wild life then people. And some of the people may look a little wild themselves. We are lucky to have a 80 acre homestead, although most of it is unusable because of the steep terrain and thick forest. My closest neighbor is almost a mile away. We are fortunate in our neighbors. Here in SoHum you hear the stories of the weed crazed Bulgarians or Mexican Cartel starting land wars with the people living closest. Not so in our case. At least not yet. In case of emergency or seeing something out of the norm the people living on our quiet little mountain are quick to call each other and keep each other safe. Usually those calls are fire related. Lately they are Mountain Lion related. It started innocently enough with a "Have you seen my house cat" call. Then another and another. Over the summer and fall months there have been close to 20 house cats go missing. 1 dog has been attacked. So many of us have set up game cameras to try to catch the predator in action. We now have so many pictures we are almost certain we are dealing with more then one cat. At times when you are alone in the forest it feels like there is a pride of lions just out of view watching you. We have stopped letting our kids free range. We have fenced in our pigs and chickens. We are lucky to have two very good guard dogs that keep it out of our yard but other neighbors have not been so lucky. And now we start the debate on how to handle this situation. As a mother my first instinct is to protect my family and hunt the thing. But the Native American in me screams that this was their land before ours and it has more right to kill me then I it. Relocation has never entered my mind though. Why would I exile it to become someone elses problem? So for now we are being cautious and sticking close to home. Never leaving the house without a cell phone and my trusty .380.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-m2mmu3exALFq0De7IrbhbMmCOtm6UbCXh6kbrcacq5f-Ax1jPyWVk7BiaFqVvHTUTyAANviAAiAoB8TaNHC-ewtkejM4Tix1XacLu0-GXIN0gzNq99zx_1-jaqigtYMPsoMbeGozhQ/s1600/IMG951140.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-m2mmu3exALFq0De7IrbhbMmCOtm6UbCXh6kbrcacq5f-Ax1jPyWVk7BiaFqVvHTUTyAANviAAiAoB8TaNHC-ewtkejM4Tix1XacLu0-GXIN0gzNq99zx_1-jaqigtYMPsoMbeGozhQ/s640/IMG951140.jpg" width="640" height="405" data-original-width="867" data-original-height="549" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3TOaCeRb6FcBx27qpbkNq3knaO2CJxTVgOUQsAjEHpE3rviRTlwwIlOnciTwgYFOT4Dm7mTNS1jXdB8i9WHkIP1BaIiA2kYCdRPPXFGMmLuqHl7S-D0cvhXYIloueGuz_UxdSdnW0QQ/s1600/Resized_20181006_092222.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3TOaCeRb6FcBx27qpbkNq3knaO2CJxTVgOUQsAjEHpE3rviRTlwwIlOnciTwgYFOT4Dm7mTNS1jXdB8i9WHkIP1BaIiA2kYCdRPPXFGMmLuqHl7S-D0cvhXYIloueGuz_UxdSdnW0QQ/s640/Resized_20181006_092222.jpeg" width="639" height="640" data-original-width="1079" data-original-height="1080" /></a>carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-83634738903462646022018-10-24T16:38:00.000-07:002018-10-24T16:38:17.206-07:00HomeschoolingI never thought I would be a homeschooling mother. Much less teaching three kids. The decision to home-school our children came about quite suddenly. Our Bug was in preschool and Sunny was still a babe. I kept noticing all the bad habits Bug was picking up. And the germs. And how she started shutting down when things didn't go the way she thought/wanted them to. After many conversations Bug finally told us that there were several boys in her class that were being very mean and sometimes violent to her.
Right about this time California started its pro-vaccination campaign. Our family has a history of vaccination reactions that require us to skip them. Reasons that are not entirely my own to share there for I wont. While we could get a medical exemption I was hesitant to keep my child in a school system I had no faith in. The large class sizes, lack of supervision or discipline, and really mean kids were not my ideal learning situation. So we started to explore our options.
The first year we tried a long distance through the mail school. I quickly realized that I needed more supervision to keep me on track. Still to this day we would rather do all our "book" work on one day and all the fun hands on stuff the rest of the week. Another down side was this school was super expensive. With me staying home to teach the kids we were down to a single income and the cost was killing us.
The second year Bug transitioned to our local charter school. We would meet with her Teacher once a month and she would make sure we were sticking to the state standards. This is one of the biggest problems I have for this system. They very closely tell me what I can and cannot teach. And when I have to teach these things. In California that means common core. Which is harder for me to teach since it is not how I was taught. One thing I love is that since this is part of the public school system it is free. They actually give me and allotted amount of money to spend on supplies of my choice. Any parent will appreciate this with the amount of arts, crafts, and science experiments children love to do.
This is our third year and we have stayed with our charter school. Also enrolling Sunny in Kindergarten. Bug is now in 2nd. While I expected it to be a little harder to teach two different grades at the same time the biggest challenge is keeping my very active almost 2 year old out of our stuff and entertained while we do our work. I might be slightly blessed with two very smart eager learners. They usually will do any and all work that I ask of them. Since I have two kids to keep track of I decided to meet with our teacher weekly to help keep us on task and she also helps provide me with ideas to help the girls in anything they need it with.
The hardest part of homeschooling for me is keeping my own head out of it. My anxiety shows itself in the strangest ways. You know that nagging worry we get as parents that we are messing up our children. Now I also have the worry that I am making them fail at learning too. Meeting weekly with the teacher has helped that feeling immensely. Then if anything is going off course or we didn't finish she is right there to stear us back on course. Watching them learn is so rewarding and worth all the stress. The way their little faces light up when they get a right answer or a difficult concept comes clear is magical. And it can be a lot of fun if you let it. How many opportunities does an adult get to play with water beads or make playdoh.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHLDVNcLrXAD99YxQ9OavW5YGfgwGYmHzubZ9Ed5Il1puG5H3s8pIAT5x5JCqnQakpmmiMWdSqPbQYqjuWYVPvif11o5MbX0P9xw-MDXcITxagMTs6zzM47AgVvV0xEbfQXFde1XyA1SI/s1600/IMG_20180824_164659.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHLDVNcLrXAD99YxQ9OavW5YGfgwGYmHzubZ9Ed5Il1puG5H3s8pIAT5x5JCqnQakpmmiMWdSqPbQYqjuWYVPvif11o5MbX0P9xw-MDXcITxagMTs6zzM47AgVvV0xEbfQXFde1XyA1SI/s400/IMG_20180824_164659.jpg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwnzZTywH8h3CC9zFv-nVbKfGgrBW9GWoPuzDQIcos9WOgdJUJdmqA4w8-n3MggnRQ7DLPywwOyY1LaO-m3qYxBTrysWEMUxxuaIrr7pvAs6OtbZrqOjpbzlu0Af6RqyVJt2cbbzO8X98/s1600/20180729_101840.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwnzZTywH8h3CC9zFv-nVbKfGgrBW9GWoPuzDQIcos9WOgdJUJdmqA4w8-n3MggnRQ7DLPywwOyY1LaO-m3qYxBTrysWEMUxxuaIrr7pvAs6OtbZrqOjpbzlu0Af6RqyVJt2cbbzO8X98/s400/20180729_101840.jpg" width="400" height="300" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmIOLXp9kvETTD6_dfu-3iP5j4f_mmM4Zq46JiOJry4gYbGkBzuGqd7gv_EcD8juqPRo3uHXAncVQX61nABSDsrV8uiTJIE8iCOVVSKgnwlnIhCRLyJ-1UrMsl-kwjRmlH22G6EEj3Bk/s1600/20170921_153656.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmIOLXp9kvETTD6_dfu-3iP5j4f_mmM4Zq46JiOJry4gYbGkBzuGqd7gv_EcD8juqPRo3uHXAncVQX61nABSDsrV8uiTJIE8iCOVVSKgnwlnIhCRLyJ-1UrMsl-kwjRmlH22G6EEj3Bk/s400/20170921_153656.jpg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1S_SpR8s2Zq1Or0M8ZkX9nogpb6CFLPpcWkfv2cNQto7gRItWSkeJ5XTyXQ-KUE7CK0C0mawnHhpnfBb7gKVvKPDl5jddlLoA-SgHQXOln-epWAuV9YIJOstw0AbopQSt9uqLuWykecs/s1600/IMG_20170829_200450.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1S_SpR8s2Zq1Or0M8ZkX9nogpb6CFLPpcWkfv2cNQto7gRItWSkeJ5XTyXQ-KUE7CK0C0mawnHhpnfBb7gKVvKPDl5jddlLoA-SgHQXOln-epWAuV9YIJOstw0AbopQSt9uqLuWykecs/s400/IMG_20170829_200450.jpg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a> carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-39479981805516549482018-10-22T10:25:00.000-07:002018-10-22T10:25:19.519-07:00Day in Our LIfeOur days start early. Earp wakes around 6am. If I am lucky I can snuggle him in my bed and he will let me doze for another hour. Then he wants his sisters. The bond they have is fierce. By fierce I mean that they could hug each other as easily as hit one another. It’s a crazy emotional love hate relationship. As soon as he goes to wake his sisters I head to the French press. Need super strong black coffee asap.
Then I usually start us all on our chores. Beds get made, dishes washed and put away, and breakfast started. Honestly, I am not big on cooking. Until my Husband came along I could burn boiled water and some days that is still the case. I have learned a few simple meals over the years I will proudly admit to anyone that will listen. So breakfast is usually omlettes (hello we have chickens), pancakes, or bagels.
Then we start school. Its around 10am at this point. Usually takes us around 3 hours to cover the basics. Language arts, math, social studies, science, pe, and electives( ukulele, American Sign Language, Ballet, and Arts and Crafts).
Somewhere in there we have lunch. And snacks. And more snacks. I cannot believe how much these three small children eat!!
My Husband comes in from whatever tasks he has been completing outside and makes the family dinner. We have all agreed that Mom gets way to frustrated and emotional when no one eats the meals that she cooks so yes Dad cooks dinner. Some things we just have to change in order to make ourselves happy.
We let the kids watch a little tv while we shower and relax. Sometimes we play games or wrestle or finish craft projects or school work that didn’t get done. By 8pm we put all the kids to sleep so that I get to spend a little time alone with my self and a little time with my Love. Then it is off to bed around 10 to start the whole thing over again.
It’s the stuff that we tend to learn in our free time we like the best though. This year we had our first litter of piglets born on the homestead. We lost some. But most of them thrived. We learned how to castrate the males, and why you should castrate them at all. We then learned and perfected our slaughtering and butchering of the same pigs. We learned how to properly smoke and cure our own hams and bacon and how to make sausage. Not just any sausage but the best tasting sausage we have ever had. That we could say with 100% certainty had no hormones or antibiotics. Was free range and gmo free. Food I could feed my family with no guilt only pride. That we as a family could provide this food for ourselves. Together. It makes me so proud. All three children helped raise feed and butcher these animals. And all three loved the meat we were provided as well. Respecting it because they knew it. Where it came from and the work it took to bring it from piglet to pork roast.
This life is not easy. There are obstacles and set backs and doubts at every turn. Every decision is questioned. But it has been worth it.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqE498As-C_x-D5kZwBbuin1pgiucqzkxZFcJdaLbVWS620nvKdiqc9tyFu4Bdulk7xz6b3u9TKl82EMn9_GDTruvcD3KVGWRuNbl1VaDSQG7zhokW9CttCpFJl-OK-qmzFJf54onttlU/s1600/Resized_20180409_154931.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqE498As-C_x-D5kZwBbuin1pgiucqzkxZFcJdaLbVWS620nvKdiqc9tyFu4Bdulk7xz6b3u9TKl82EMn9_GDTruvcD3KVGWRuNbl1VaDSQG7zhokW9CttCpFJl-OK-qmzFJf54onttlU/s400/Resized_20180409_154931.jpeg" width="400" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_gImcyXhHVuRWrO-B8JlvzkW9YWwZ3niLT6jhWQF_5JpETiE9jUImSGbs7RXYlyL9q-7-R5DxtxdaHdBJarWBQ2YVSAlE51xYkVcQyhXRCbflgUAvtQwAiByb_wwyuTHsyFYUnvUrJKY/s1600/20181021_163031.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_gImcyXhHVuRWrO-B8JlvzkW9YWwZ3niLT6jhWQF_5JpETiE9jUImSGbs7RXYlyL9q-7-R5DxtxdaHdBJarWBQ2YVSAlE51xYkVcQyhXRCbflgUAvtQwAiByb_wwyuTHsyFYUnvUrJKY/s400/20181021_163031.jpg" width="400" height="300" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a>
carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-1610032895534704872018-10-15T11:21:00.000-07:002018-10-15T14:09:42.951-07:00Spider Web Crafts<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJ4Z5-gGRhnP2Wuk7pQiEuwvRdsmTzoZnTNPuEPJ_uvH-070pM0Y8YBzuykcv_VYebCWPbivbBpmhAF1pHPl9i3uZEBWuygQ2T7g15VeIn21ZuzKlWFjlLgaB3G0eaNVcK3j-GyiTCmI/s1600/20181014_151619.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJ4Z5-gGRhnP2Wuk7pQiEuwvRdsmTzoZnTNPuEPJ_uvH-070pM0Y8YBzuykcv_VYebCWPbivbBpmhAF1pHPl9i3uZEBWuygQ2T7g15VeIn21ZuzKlWFjlLgaB3G0eaNVcK3j-GyiTCmI/s400/20181014_151619.jpg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a>
Fall is on steroids at my house right now. Homeschooling a 2nd grader and a kindergartner is craft intensive. This week we are focusing on making some fun spooky spiderweb crafts. Specifically, painted glue and salt webs and a fun paper plate yarn weaving web. Both are super easy, and the kids had so much fun! Bonus points for me having all of the materials already on hand.
For the glue and salt web you will need:
1. Glue
2. Salt
3. Thick Construction Paper
4. Watercolor Paint and brushes
5. Cookie Sheet
Draw out a spiderweb pattern on your paper. Make sure that there is a little extra space between your lines because you don’t want the glue to run together and make a big blob. Then lay your paper in the cookie sheet and sprinkle generously with salt. Make sure to cover ever inch of the web. Pick up the paper and tap it in the cookie sheet to knock off loose salt. Let dry over night. When dry simply paint in any style you wish.
The girls loved the way the salt sucked up and spread the paint!
For the Paper plate webs you will need:
1. Paper Plate
2. Black tempera paint
3. Hole punch
4. Yarn
5. Pom pom
6. Ribbon
First paint the plate black. When dry cut out a large circle in the middle. Take the hole punch and punch a bunch of holes around the edge. My girls kept asking for more and more hole. Then you simply weave the yarn back and forth through the wholes in whatever pattern that they want. We then glued some ribbon on our pom pom and glued the “spider” into the web.
And just like that your house is decorated for Halloween. Right???
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh80LILyd34RtTCVtiW8FS95sBQVDsPI1kvZ5bqxWMdJA4uTCvU4A6aK4fxs68fUSS4R9_UB4EbEI7YSxn_HFUvS2Jm0rK7NvJ_y3CX0iYN4krZuCa8dIrBcFlaPdx9on8io2n5FWSO3B0/s1600/20181014_151436.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh80LILyd34RtTCVtiW8FS95sBQVDsPI1kvZ5bqxWMdJA4uTCvU4A6aK4fxs68fUSS4R9_UB4EbEI7YSxn_HFUvS2Jm0rK7NvJ_y3CX0iYN4krZuCa8dIrBcFlaPdx9on8io2n5FWSO3B0/s400/20181014_151436.jpg" width="400" height="300" data-original-width="800" data-original-height="600" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFflMEcDX02xdMTDTe127jJm1A9zhfu5cP740q6-Bg0J8YrwBVLmyEZ4f0eKGoh0F03ya7ane-f1m7qquqrFjoiKaRdZwZyNNzYgt4bdeS2KC3usmiEhSCjTmEOxwMGEajTbZlaO7k9AM/s1600/20181014_151428.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFflMEcDX02xdMTDTe127jJm1A9zhfu5cP740q6-Bg0J8YrwBVLmyEZ4f0eKGoh0F03ya7ane-f1m7qquqrFjoiKaRdZwZyNNzYgt4bdeS2KC3usmiEhSCjTmEOxwMGEajTbZlaO7k9AM/s400/20181014_151428.jpg" width="400" height="300" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlAadZ6XbhaIy41Zxq_-NA7w5EPBpVoMoTUQEptuMNE_k6WqkSH8nyh1rEaJS70iKk7Ddk3mf4rD7LxFpQfzupfLx2IsGTkUeUzUXwkqEI2qjN2eAloTdI41wQzV5L8CUdu4Jf1jua94/s1600/20181014_151418.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlAadZ6XbhaIy41Zxq_-NA7w5EPBpVoMoTUQEptuMNE_k6WqkSH8nyh1rEaJS70iKk7Ddk3mf4rD7LxFpQfzupfLx2IsGTkUeUzUXwkqEI2qjN2eAloTdI41wQzV5L8CUdu4Jf1jua94/s400/20181014_151418.jpg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NAEtvGdsKTEqlGWKn-3pB4W8CYNOeibpBxnuNducCzmLLNE_ZfztVyq0BLwR-Dqv0ss72bl8EXV-xJ1yvl_2khrFGFboz7-B4D-7bnxD5R-0EXMoZZkJclYKDmB50cwutWnaIkUwq7I/s1600/20181013_122657.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NAEtvGdsKTEqlGWKn-3pB4W8CYNOeibpBxnuNducCzmLLNE_ZfztVyq0BLwR-Dqv0ss72bl8EXV-xJ1yvl_2khrFGFboz7-B4D-7bnxD5R-0EXMoZZkJclYKDmB50cwutWnaIkUwq7I/s400/20181013_122657.jpg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a>
carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-59890707954515540652018-10-10T18:07:00.000-07:002018-10-10T18:07:35.130-07:00Mental Health Awareness Day<b>Anxiety
</b>
For as long as I can remember I have always worried about what people think of me. Of doing or saying the wrong thing. Before I got pregnant with my son these feelings were always a small voice inside my head. One easily pushed to the back. Acknowledged but manageable.
With my third pregnancy things started to get, let’s just say intense. I was no longer able to ignore the voice in my head telling me I was wrong. Not just a self-doubt now. But a smoldering fire of anger that could blaze into an uncontrollable inferno at the least provocation. I was frustrated and resentful of my family. Unable to be stand being touched by the innocent belly rubbers I actually sprained a stranger’s fingers when they tried to touch me in the grocery store.
I brought up my concerns to my doctor and midwife to be told it was common for women carrying boys to get extra hormonal and that it would pass with the birth. HA! With the arrival of my sweet babe I became a hostage of my emotions. Anything someone else did for my boy I would redo. Even my Husband dressed the baby wrong. Washed him wrong. Feed him wrong.
Even now that Earp is 21 months I cannot leave him overnight with anyone. And by anyone I mean his Aunty or Gram. My closest family. The ones that were perfectly capable to raise myself and my Husband.
I second guess every decision I make for my children and our lives. With our third child we needed to expand our home to accommodate our larger family. Hello nervous breakdown. Trying to decide which colors to paint their rooms, or light fixtures, or flooring would literally reduce me to a crying puddle on the floor. And then I would get angry that I was so “crazy” and out of control.
When I again brought these feelings up to my doctor they literally locked me in their office until a psychiatrist could come and evaluate me. I was told I was sleep deprived and to go home and give my child to a sitter and sleep. Oh and take this handful of pills everyday and try not to think about my problems.
Since I was nursing I refused to take the meds. But I did listen to their advice that I needed to talk to someone. Unable to afford a therapist I did the next best thing. I joined Facebook groups and read other bloggers with some of the same issues. And do you know what I found out. I am NOT CRAZY! That I am not abnormal. Or selfish. That I am not ALONE.
There is a whole internet world out there full of stories like mine. These brave women are telling their stories to help others. And they have helped me. I find the most help from Brittany Gibbons at brittnayherself.com and from fit_teacher_rachel on Instagram. Their honest and usually hilarious posts keep me sane even when I feel crazy.
Things I have learned are self-care is not selfish. That a little time to myself makes me a better mother and wife. That working out is not optional. Even if that working out is just stretching and meditation. That I cannot be everything for everyone and that is ok. It is also ok to say no to invitations or extra-curricular activities or anything else that I feel I cannot handle at this time. Because my happiness is just as important as everyone else’s. And believe me my family would rather have a calm happy mommy then go to that fifth 4H group. All of this is ok. And if you are like me and you feel that you need someone’s permission to go for a walk instead of doing that 8th load of laundry then I give you that.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uaN_3YVFKNV26AUEPVEQipUNQG0U3aHSOPL1LPBNrNgigMHuWovClv00AGPeSwGvDe4UibJwJVbPtqfaBn6XFXAMlIJNwEzHwZR_jBUF6vJQqZvolpaax0s3xKEA4TtNg3nBfeyNY00/s1600/20180908_142227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uaN_3YVFKNV26AUEPVEQipUNQG0U3aHSOPL1LPBNrNgigMHuWovClv00AGPeSwGvDe4UibJwJVbPtqfaBn6XFXAMlIJNwEzHwZR_jBUF6vJQqZvolpaax0s3xKEA4TtNg3nBfeyNY00/s320/20180908_142227.jpg" width="240" height="320" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xMKFqc3FOycG9l6mO_5xgUdtpvDojdUy0MRnb1I2osw0CrVYodXcCu5xMUfXaqgdEXrQ-FuBhvDoIWjQXuhYe0qF7ygYdQ5OVOghsJg-edAazkBUX1lOfInB5yptzC7tgP6lBuX80aA/s1600/20180729_131859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xMKFqc3FOycG9l6mO_5xgUdtpvDojdUy0MRnb1I2osw0CrVYodXcCu5xMUfXaqgdEXrQ-FuBhvDoIWjQXuhYe0qF7ygYdQ5OVOghsJg-edAazkBUX1lOfInB5yptzC7tgP6lBuX80aA/s320/20180729_131859.jpg" width="320" height="240" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a></div>
Some of my favorite hikes lately. My first trip walking the Golden Gate. And a shot from a hike of Bear Harbor on the Lost Coast
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</script>carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-83312675868883958612018-10-08T10:13:00.000-07:002018-10-08T10:13:57.487-07:00We Are Back WOW it has been a long long while since I have had the time to sit down at a keyboard and type something for myself. Let's see if I can catch everyone up. I am now the mother of three, yep three, feral children. Bug is now 7 Sunny is 5 and Earp is almost 2. We have a boy in the family people. And let me just confirm, boys are just as crazy as everyone says. Right this second he has not one, not two, not three, but five giant bruises on his little cherub head.
My kids are my life. We home-school so they are LITERALLY my life. We are together 24/7. So far we are all still alive. Thriving even. Sure there are days were I could pull my hair out. Days where we never get out of our pajamas and the baby has lovingly smeared oatmeal in my hair. But then I take my kids out in public and I feel pretty good about our choices so far. I mean its only Second grade and Kindergarten I can't mess it up that much can I? That is the thought that wakes me up at four am. The thought that keeps me looking at craft projects and speech impediments at midnight.
Kids are hard. With two I felt in control. I had my shit together. I made lunches with those cookie cutter sandwiches and no one watched anything that wasn't from PBS or the discovery channel. Three kids. Three. Kids. Its war. And I am pretty sure that I am loosing.
Any hoo did I mentioned we remodeled our house? Took ourselves from a modest 900 square ft to 2000 square ft. And we are still married. I think that is one of a marriages biggest tests. If you can survive living through a construction zone for months on end while you negotiate/argue about every single minute detail, you are pretty much guaranteed to stay married until one of you dies. Who knew we cared so much about light fixtures and electrical outlet covers. Don't get me started on big things like paint colors or flooring. Who put me in charge of the light fixtures my kids would have for the rest of their childhood anyways????
Things that have not changed, we still live on a rural homestead. We raise our own pork, rabbit, and chicken. We did the whole goat and milking thing for awhile but I don't think the large breed goat is the animal for us. Our homestead is completely off grid. We run solar, some wind, have our own fresh spring. Garden what and when we can. We are a family that believes in the simple life. The slower pace. I hope to take you along on our journey. Let you peak into the craziness that is our day to day. I will try to post weekly from now on. I will also try to give you an honest look into our private life. There will be cussing. And crazy hair. So Sit down and grab a cup of coffee here we go.....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Ai5UnZC2-YDTqLG8G3FXIcYdgLEClfQPibkcxcqkZepAkawTRsmSukAkrVZ8xUJr-joW_ruUoPbWOIyqq4RHz1F1u0frTbkCoXgLC1jXpPMiC5UXlVcW-GMlC-6Ksboir8bmeB16dJU/s1600/20180812_194956.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Ai5UnZC2-YDTqLG8G3FXIcYdgLEClfQPibkcxcqkZepAkawTRsmSukAkrVZ8xUJr-joW_ruUoPbWOIyqq4RHz1F1u0frTbkCoXgLC1jXpPMiC5UXlVcW-GMlC-6Ksboir8bmeB16dJU/s320/20180812_194956.jpg" width="320" height="240" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl1NTAC6aRrK5XDApheulb-5qafeweprBERuvZM2HHPt3-7Y_RMSfTQddGoWhwvxbnvw5k4ZWxKJGaenmUV_iGwl3PPALvEzuEeq0H7beckIQg3FhEU43KZ1B-VSYf8VS6o8wxkfEKCVQ/s1600/FB_IMG_1505866379542.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl1NTAC6aRrK5XDApheulb-5qafeweprBERuvZM2HHPt3-7Y_RMSfTQddGoWhwvxbnvw5k4ZWxKJGaenmUV_iGwl3PPALvEzuEeq0H7beckIQg3FhEU43KZ1B-VSYf8VS6o8wxkfEKCVQ/s320/FB_IMG_1505866379542.jpg" width="320" height="214" data-original-width="1438" data-original-height="961" /></a>carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-16158538725192494672013-10-23T21:31:00.000-07:002013-10-23T21:31:39.725-07:00Eye of the LionThe day seemed ordinary enough. House work. Sick kids. Out of water. But I knew something was not right when my two female dogs, one black lab one bull mastiff, would not follow me up to the water pump. I started down the trail, getting maybe 100 feet, when I notice I'm alone. Both dogs are shaking and whineing at the edge of the yard. Very distressing. Then I hear it. A low, throaty growl. I look up the trunk of the tree I'm standing next to and about 25ft up I see it. Big eyes. Long twitchy tail. A very muscular mountain lion just hanging out next to my house in the middle of a windy fall afternoon. All I could think was " I cannot be eaten, Bug needs more Tylenol in an hour." So while maintaining eye contact I slowly backed all the way into my front door. An hour later it was gone. My dogs never made a peep. Its been over a week and I still don't let my kids outside alone. When I shared this story on Facebook a lot of people wanted me to shoot it. But I just couldn't. Partly because I didn't want to try while alone with my kids. But also they were here first. I chose to live in their territory. And just because you see them doesn't necessarily mean they want to eat you. And if you don't see them doesn't mean they don't see you. Here's some interesting facts I found on WWW.dfg.ca.gov.
* there are approximately 10 mountain lions per 100 miles in California. That makes at least 4000 in this state Alone.
* With the passage of prop 117 in 1990 mountain lions became a "specially protected species" making them illegal to hunt or harm in any way.
* California Dept. Of Fish and Wildlife get 100's of sightings annually but only 3% turn out to be verifiable public safety threats.
* Statistically a person is 1000 times more likely to get struck by lightening then attacked by a mountain lion.
* Only 16 verified attacked on humans sincere 1890, six of them fatal. Although the last attack was in January 2007 right here in Humboldt County.
<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggd9YtPrxE0sKyL8JWDIQwLqgZbrhQfTXQY2D6UW-pwDgW2FbmNBcI9P40E4CxALGEV0L3t2bEj5OnCvkt5cjEOmIbN-Y4-6t6O2m-M-c9zXlgGoGytYAD-PXQTH-UNoHZIf8C2kT12q0/s1600/2013-10-23-21-01-34--1786369071-738819.jpeg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggd9YtPrxE0sKyL8JWDIQwLqgZbrhQfTXQY2D6UW-pwDgW2FbmNBcI9P40E4CxALGEV0L3t2bEj5OnCvkt5cjEOmIbN-Y4-6t6O2m-M-c9zXlgGoGytYAD-PXQTH-UNoHZIf8C2kT12q0/s320/2013-10-23-21-01-34--1786369071-738819.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5938168265902166690" /></a></p> carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-58850109872856409972013-06-28T03:07:00.001-07:002013-06-28T03:08:33.826-07:00Get Out Of Grief Free CardIt is 2:30am. And as I lay here on the couch next to my sweetly sleeping milk parasite I cannot sleep. I keep replaying my day and trying to figure out what is wrong with me. Do you think its possible for a person to become "full" of grief? To experience so much sadness that they are no longer affected by it heavy tread? When I lost my mother to her own hand in 2003 I was crushed. Left with the usual "what ifs" and anger that suicide produces. When I lost my father to medical complications in 2006 I was destroyed. It took time and therapy and the love of my Hubby, sister, and close friends to bring back my light. Now I measure every loss against that pain. And while one day I'm sure to cross that threshold of hell it isn't today. Today I found out one of my fathers brothers was brutally murdered. And all I can muster is, he is in a better place. How hollow is that? All day my phone rang and my facebook popped and everyone wants to know if im ok. So while I lay here unable to produce the proper response I will slow tomorrow down. I will take the time to love and cherish my girls. To build our life with the happiest memories I can. So whenever that pain does come again, to myself or my girls, we have a deep well of love to draw from and soothe our tender hearts until we are all together again. Now I will close my eyes and try to dream of three reunited brothers riding their horses over the last mountain together.carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-73575288426273933312013-06-09T17:37:00.003-07:002013-06-09T17:37:59.817-07:00DIY Pallet Picket FenceI have a new obsession. To have a picket fence. We have little money to put into this endeavor so I set my Pinterest sights on some DIY versions. Since we live in the middle of Emerald Triangle, a refurbished pallet fence seemed like my best option. The small community we live in has four feed and garden stores, so I loaded up my Midgets and away we went to scavenge there free pallet piles. I love my truck. It took a lot of convincing to even get some slimy over paid used car dealer to sell me a 4X4 but boy oh boy does Baby get some use. Now that I have ferreted away almost 25 pallets I can start to work on the fun part. I measured out the small area by our garden and play area that we use the most and I have my work cut out for me. 200ft of it. At 4 foot long pallet picket slates goes that's a grand total of at least 50 of these dirty heavy suckers that I am going to have to deal with. But oh boy is it going to be worth it. I found this great tutorial on youtube <a href="http://youtu.be/N08dJ3pWtgM"></a> that breaks down the process beautifully. So far I have cut and disassembled 8 picket slates so far. In two days. All by myself. With TWO KIDS UNDER TWO. Its the chicken poop you see. Since we have wonderful free range chickens for meat and eggs we have a large amount of chicken poop. Everywhere. Its <b>DISGUSTING</b> . One day soon I foresee an area free of chicken manure and flies, where my children can crawl on the ground or on the picnic table and not be covered in feces. On that note I will leave you folks for this week. with one last parting shot of cuteness....
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjfK7HwSUn1uGi0Vy3RQAqq880oaPe7GFcnLp3_eHzIrtOg1KqxvOvA_a5dhf-Nku5aA7iSPgZtEUzonukQ-5-4kQeL1p3ELuJOreuaD62kXWiBE-NfaFkENMV2PfjqkkoviceAhkV7M/s1600/palet2.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjfK7HwSUn1uGi0Vy3RQAqq880oaPe7GFcnLp3_eHzIrtOg1KqxvOvA_a5dhf-Nku5aA7iSPgZtEUzonukQ-5-4kQeL1p3ELuJOreuaD62kXWiBE-NfaFkENMV2PfjqkkoviceAhkV7M/s320/palet2.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhyGy552qdMWHbWmx75FMtB1_mxZLFyyAi7IGgXxz5WyEyoFbMCkx7R1spdXxYWsrnWUWcV-Hry9DKps0-JiStWtSj4XrUpbd4_N-IM6ilE1WJHP2Glj7CY36yHIqqMRJ6Vy5RT0zW2Y/s1600/palet3.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhyGy552qdMWHbWmx75FMtB1_mxZLFyyAi7IGgXxz5WyEyoFbMCkx7R1spdXxYWsrnWUWcV-Hry9DKps0-JiStWtSj4XrUpbd4_N-IM6ilE1WJHP2Glj7CY36yHIqqMRJ6Vy5RT0zW2Y/s320/palet3.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkRrCYX8Upj-ZBY3-9ll4SAwixHdWI-PZxVpGn5EYfkFmV5Ry4D8LchB69DORyWMUcpcNLh8VumcR2m5S_XC7H-wdzgG8EzgFiWjnUDkZ6t9i1siSf6B4ruUxT1acX_VcbU0Y2PV1JLPo/s1600/palet.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkRrCYX8Upj-ZBY3-9ll4SAwixHdWI-PZxVpGn5EYfkFmV5Ry4D8LchB69DORyWMUcpcNLh8VumcR2m5S_XC7H-wdzgG8EzgFiWjnUDkZ6t9i1siSf6B4ruUxT1acX_VcbU0Y2PV1JLPo/s320/palet.jpg" /></a>
carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-79672339250520885402013-06-05T13:30:00.001-07:002013-06-28T20:47:05.870-07:00Bath Tub Painting<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZCjeOEVXMf_lmR58oOCyj6STVwcBEAK4z1FTAjis0HH4RE5ET9QiQgoFBqkD1zPBTDhSNxOsubnX-h4UAl6vbwsfFoxz1HwHS4G3NJRqYnPfn3QeouYTN92k2CjsiShyphenhyphenfZhVT5X1Yffc/s1600/IMG_20130604_181127-765126.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZCjeOEVXMf_lmR58oOCyj6STVwcBEAK4z1FTAjis0HH4RE5ET9QiQgoFBqkD1zPBTDhSNxOsubnX-h4UAl6vbwsfFoxz1HwHS4G3NJRqYnPfn3QeouYTN92k2CjsiShyphenhyphenfZhVT5X1Yffc/s320/IMG_20130604_181127-765126.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5886091468850202978" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39asBbIxPkXTH49Tab6uFkloLtxaj9lD2Qm2Z3f5hf1o04JetlnOzim1Vv3uRfIoNocK0yZqSRKnE1TnyeHW5tE28A5113r8t2x6Di7hDMarwwoWQlTuu6Kllq6_HXQI7f5iL5bZOrZ8/s1600/IMG_20130604_181223-767446.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39asBbIxPkXTH49Tab6uFkloLtxaj9lD2Qm2Z3f5hf1o04JetlnOzim1Vv3uRfIoNocK0yZqSRKnE1TnyeHW5tE28A5113r8t2x6Di7hDMarwwoWQlTuu6Kllq6_HXQI7f5iL5bZOrZ8/s320/IMG_20130604_181223-767446.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5886091479037955570" /></a></p>
This is super easy and just about the only way I can get Bug to bathe these days. I use an old cupcake tin. Fill each cup with any foaming shaving cream, I use cheapo men's generic stuff. Then add just a couple drops of food coloring of your choice to each cup. Seriously any more then three or four drops will dye your munchkin, which can be fun just not...the day before family portraits or something. Stir your foam up and let the kids paint away. Makes everything smell nice too. Easy clean up just spray with shower head or wipe with wet cloth.
Now for some super fun and a little( OK a LOT) dirty Mommy stuff. I read a great, funny, honest blog http://www.brittanyherself.com and recently Brittany has put on these awesome Last Call shows. A group of women get together and hang out and talk smack for bout an hour each week. You can watch live, or like me and all you have for internet is a smart phone and a prayer, you can watch on YouTube. Said smart phone will not let me link in so unfortunately YOU will have to search for Brittany gibbons last call yourself. Gasp! I know you have to actually type and stuff, sorry. One day after I buy myself a boob lift and my Hubby a nut cut I might get to save for an actual computer. Until then I will continue to text out my post to share infinite wisdom, like Last Call, with you. My readers. I actually have readers y'all.* blushing*carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-36496054611011651892013-05-26T17:40:00.000-07:002013-06-28T20:47:05.864-07:00Bean Play
Bug and I had so much fun doing this activity. I really needed to distract her so I could make dinner and this was perfect. Kept her close enough I could play to but busy enough to let me get dinner on the table. We happen to buy our beans from Costco, bags and bags of them. My Hubby has the weird idea that the world might end and we have to be ready he says. I figure if 60 lbs of beans are going to take up space in my pantry I might as well have some fun with them. You wash them before you use them anyway right? And afterward Bug even "helped" me clean up. I cannot believe how big and coordinated she has gotten. Cherish every moment they go by so so fast. These are the memories I want to lock inside my soul to be pulled out and examined when I'm old and gray(grayer).
<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOcEk3adt4PUeVZBmVa9XkXxuhRkxWQRsus5fb8Lo6e_ARcD0IEoUPjXY3h-tNoXuGvwHjuJqfax9dRHZYOpvFjAFPCBgjhGIbLZE8XQpr8Ee8b7d350PRFG-V7uEmN0IftAy6jzaoC4/s1600/IMG_20130523_170640-716836.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOcEk3adt4PUeVZBmVa9XkXxuhRkxWQRsus5fb8Lo6e_ARcD0IEoUPjXY3h-tNoXuGvwHjuJqfax9dRHZYOpvFjAFPCBgjhGIbLZE8XQpr8Ee8b7d350PRFG-V7uEmN0IftAy6jzaoC4/s320/IMG_20130523_170640-716836.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5882447411675144642" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FakjDzgIOeH2sz9VX5uZa1xN9Kl85hJOX4cLuGd8PT4z1rrOS0riAqQC7i3ibrFhIj9tN4AcHzzx4t6GbLbJvKsfNpDLT7Kc3O3AB0FlShgnZ3CzzqavTdiSXDPGwoQM0fRromka5h0/s1600/IMG_20130523_171316-718738.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FakjDzgIOeH2sz9VX5uZa1xN9Kl85hJOX4cLuGd8PT4z1rrOS0riAqQC7i3ibrFhIj9tN4AcHzzx4t6GbLbJvKsfNpDLT7Kc3O3AB0FlShgnZ3CzzqavTdiSXDPGwoQM0fRromka5h0/s320/IMG_20130523_171316-718738.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5882447416040746818" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEmxOSpltlTCuXmjBdogu1jdsOEJipAdtyN5XP3ejJy7NOKvqH-goLjCBvL8KFcjuJIDRhUweeQH_VWO1uUrxqSkWic-ZVJ320ubu84FWy9wOXc_HK3MJ2E77XjU_cR9eYH2nSmorLro/s1600/IMG_20130523_181428-720480.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEmxOSpltlTCuXmjBdogu1jdsOEJipAdtyN5XP3ejJy7NOKvqH-goLjCBvL8KFcjuJIDRhUweeQH_VWO1uUrxqSkWic-ZVJ320ubu84FWy9wOXc_HK3MJ2E77XjU_cR9eYH2nSmorLro/s320/IMG_20130523_181428-720480.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5882447425637407794" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2J4MMscehCUex2rEXTetMXVMjupi8v8bAQFcKLRtMObO5KDBbQ8C8jyneN01je2XBGhgRh5nV9R2p4JdkGmGRNOIGTImUPGsaBFIz7_MAwSNVhu5GKKvahr27SRKnGJel0aOneZh7nyo/s1600/IMG_20130523_183631-722751.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2J4MMscehCUex2rEXTetMXVMjupi8v8bAQFcKLRtMObO5KDBbQ8C8jyneN01je2XBGhgRh5nV9R2p4JdkGmGRNOIGTImUPGsaBFIz7_MAwSNVhu5GKKvahr27SRKnGJel0aOneZh7nyo/s320/IMG_20130523_183631-722751.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5882447433407732802" /></a></p> carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-49092154373838316092013-05-26T16:51:00.000-07:002013-06-28T20:47:05.866-07:00Nature StampingI have been trying to find ways to incorporate nature play with our art time. So today Bug and I collected our paint supplies and then went in the yard for nature stamps. We found a rose, a chicken feather, pine cones, madrone leaves and a rock. Bug looked for surprised when i started painting our objects but soon got into it. This is a sample of my work. I used the rose, feather and pine cone.
<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCsoc4yWs6qmRXHk4r55TvcgZQJ1S_vmNnwSOcNdfgO0gDAw7brJYy9Lj3T0SKWJQj55N06uMo3tF3Gcccb9yNxVb6ZchjJNXcV7YeNroJa4V2c5J0Eqkfyj-Y47-ylv11Rqr4aU0sYBc/s1600/IMG_20130526_151939-750093.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCsoc4yWs6qmRXHk4r55TvcgZQJ1S_vmNnwSOcNdfgO0gDAw7brJYy9Lj3T0SKWJQj55N06uMo3tF3Gcccb9yNxVb6ZchjJNXcV7YeNroJa4V2c5J0Eqkfyj-Y47-ylv11Rqr4aU0sYBc/s320/IMG_20130526_151939-750093.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5882432950594642898" /></a></p> carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-63251367916490249072013-05-20T13:43:00.000-07:002013-06-28T20:50:29.627-07:00Co-NappingAs a new mother to two under two, if I could give one piece of advice it would be the gift of co-napping. Bug still goes down for an afternoon nap that lasts anywhere from 1 to 3 hours. I already had her on a flexible nap schedule because little girl gets some major diva attitude if she doesn't nap. When Sunny came along it only made sense for them to go down together to give me a little sanity time. In the beginning I used this time to catch a little shut eye myself. Now that Sunny is almost 3 months old I use this time for ME time. I used to clean the house but now I find ways to do that boring brainless task with the girls. Nap time is now fitness time. Or knitting time. Or just sitting down in complete silence without some small lovely parasitic cherub sucking my life force outta my boobs. And my house might be a little messy, my mail my stay unsorted, my laundry unfolded, but it gives me the little bit if alone time that resets my Mary Poppins Mommy Clock. I'm able to have a little more patience, a little more YES. And that is so important to me. I have to tell Bug "No" four hundred bazillion times a day any time I can say yes I will. Yes you can play in the mud. Yes you can climb that tree.Yes you can help chop vegetables for dinner. So do NOT fell guilty for taking a little Mommy Time Out. And leave a comment, what do you say yes to?? carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-53517620566856776202013-05-05T16:46:00.000-07:002013-06-28T20:47:05.868-07:00DIY Toddler Bird FeederI stumbled upon this really fun and easy bird feeder picture on pinterest. Unfortunately there were no directions to go along with the picture but it seemed simple enough Bug and I just ran with it.
For our version your will need:
Either empty paper towel rolls or toilet paper rolls,
peanut butter,
loose bird seed of your choice.(I went with all organic kind because Bug did eat some),
cookie sheet,
butter knife
So very simple, pour the bird seed out on the cookie sheet. Generously coat the outside of your roll of choice with a thick layer of peanut butter. Let your Little have fun rolling it back and forth in the bird seed. Shove over end of tree branch and wait.
This activity kept Bug engrossed for at least an hour. And it was pretty inexpensive too.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyaaRXgRJ8BamkOinC3xvHL7g9LPXrsS-BdrWFPYGaypCIyKjdVZYYOlG-qwvt1zcNFHUpBRA4-MB6US0hy4BfAjDE3kCpILMZd_8rVBp8D6Lz1V1L-NjkU36C-Z2aYJyNKisiXJHkPSo/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyaaRXgRJ8BamkOinC3xvHL7g9LPXrsS-BdrWFPYGaypCIyKjdVZYYOlG-qwvt1zcNFHUpBRA4-MB6US0hy4BfAjDE3kCpILMZd_8rVBp8D6Lz1V1L-NjkU36C-Z2aYJyNKisiXJHkPSo/s320/2.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAlMa2e_rJrKggq8-s4S4YKK_HyspvUnbxACEsfyauZkk0tJBYR2sSbj0ox3c-UAOGGW4u3c1Xt_CQFr3Jngp7GlQVx0bz2Cm6ENhzC-U2N6KKE4I7BUIadAMLMQW2meRV9Bdb6NMov0/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAlMa2e_rJrKggq8-s4S4YKK_HyspvUnbxACEsfyauZkk0tJBYR2sSbj0ox3c-UAOGGW4u3c1Xt_CQFr3Jngp7GlQVx0bz2Cm6ENhzC-U2N6KKE4I7BUIadAMLMQW2meRV9Bdb6NMov0/s320/3.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4Low1Q7zQa80FAlxjs8rjneeuypZwGK5fJwzXnsnjDLw5lgML8GHCM-Xk7lyWzVqBg6XKZICREA4L3DmVm59X3CYR83hdMi_jtw_M-vRTfyWGjXzLV7mnldaoHe1uyKmolW44u1QE6c/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4Low1Q7zQa80FAlxjs8rjneeuypZwGK5fJwzXnsnjDLw5lgML8GHCM-Xk7lyWzVqBg6XKZICREA4L3DmVm59X3CYR83hdMi_jtw_M-vRTfyWGjXzLV7mnldaoHe1uyKmolW44u1QE6c/s320/4.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg3PZ_F2ZiLXxkzhIbqtvS2iR3cg6VQ0YQeqEsCAirRgALcnmlqcqsVT2v-t88rJB5Ov9hw6QdoB6edF3Mofsl7NMHiZ4U42wffwfYDrzQuBcCru_HdI45IzeKK9h8NozgTQ-bKhpd1fI/s1600/bird+feeder.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg3PZ_F2ZiLXxkzhIbqtvS2iR3cg6VQ0YQeqEsCAirRgALcnmlqcqsVT2v-t88rJB5Ov9hw6QdoB6edF3Mofsl7NMHiZ4U42wffwfYDrzQuBcCru_HdI45IzeKK9h8NozgTQ-bKhpd1fI/s320/bird+feeder.jpg" /></a>
carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-45825217401480732522013-05-01T16:01:00.000-07:002013-06-28T20:48:15.588-07:00Facing your Parental FearsEveryone is always telling me I worry about my Girls to much. Especially my Hubby. And for the most part they are right. While I would love nothing more then to cram my bumbling, distractable 2 year old into a nice padded soundproof sphere its just not practical. My house is far to small. So instead, about 100 times a day I close my eyes, and all the air is sucked from my body while I pray to any form of higher power willing to help, that Bug will not fall from whatever bazillion precarious perches she mischievously finds herself upon. How else will she ever learn balance, and a rational fear of heights if I don't let her do a little solo exploring. And you would think it would be the old oak tree out front, or the tippity top of the slide at the park, or off the back of the couch which she uses as a balance beam that would do her in. Or her own two feet. A week after we brought Sunny home. While out for the only walk per day my cesarean recovery allowed. While standing right next to me, Bug tripped. Falling head first off the last porch step. Onto hard rocky ground. How do you figure out if something is seriously wrong with a hysterical midget that cannot freaking talk? She was such a trooper. Cried for about five minutes and then was very calm unless someone touched her. But no matter what we did, itsy bitsy spider, patty cake, high fives, food bribes she wouldnt use her right arm. So off to the ER we went. With a newborn. And me still on pain meds. Oh yeah and a two hour drive one way. Poor kid was such a trooper. Until the nurses tried to take her temperature and then the blood curdling, screaming ridged body, eye rolling fear began. Two sets of XRays later and its a broken clavical. Only thing to do is brace her arm for as long as she would let us and give her some pain meds of her own.Longest eight hours of my life. . carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-43019682547036305872013-04-29T11:24:00.001-07:002013-04-29T11:24:31.867-07:00Oh where has the time has gone?Wow! I am sorry you guys! When I decided to take a little time off from chronicling my life and just LIVE it I never intended for it to be for over a year. So so much has happened!
My family has grown by another beautiful daughter. Sunny is now 7 weeks old today. Bug is almost 27 months. She has grown into one intelligent, vivacious, independent girl. So far her sister couldn't be more different. We are still trying to adjust, learning new routines, and especially learning how to slow down and just enjoy our lives. Keeping things simple while my girls are still relatively easy to please and still want to play with me.
I hope to do a lot more posting on here in the future. I was rereading all my old posts during our 4am feeding last night and realized this blog is a great way to keep a record of my girls childhood. Before I wrote for me, to vent and just put my thoughts somewhere else besides my head. And I will still do that but with the added intention of one day showing this to them. Letting them see exactly what it took for me to provide them with our life. And maybe inspire them to live as presently as possible.
I hope to fill these "pages" withe a detailed account of all our arts and crafting experiences. Stories of our day to day activities and life lessons. But right now Sunny is hungry and Bug wants to play in the garden.
carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-5635093768910552992012-01-28T21:51:00.000-08:002012-01-29T13:42:55.684-08:00Not a Good Week!Wow. Ok. So Bug and I went to Fairy Godmother house for a night and when I made a fire I noticed her cast iron kettle on the top. Not thinking the fire had been going awhile and the kettle was obviously hot I thought I should fill it with water. Well when the cold water made horrible contact with the hot medal, burning steam shot up and seared my forearm. Ouch! Couple of days later my Hubby was changing his tire and the jack slipped and struck him in the nose. Shoving the end of his nose bone through his skin. Yikes!. You would think we are clumsy. Or cusrsed. Nope just busy and happy and moving on. Not even that can keep us down. Can't wait to see where tomorrow takes us.carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-26304096120339087722012-01-10T15:52:00.000-08:002012-01-10T15:52:47.527-08:00Hello AgainSorry folks. Guess I got caught up in the holidays and forgot I had a blog to keep up. We have had a wonderful holiday season in our neck of the woods. But thats not what i want to talk about today. Health. More importantly my health. I have always been bigger. Bigger then friends and family. And since I've had my daughter bigger then some livestock. I avoid mirrors. I hide in maternity clothes I no longer have an excuse to wear. But having a daughter is making me think. Not only do I want her to see me at my best. Kids can be unintentionally cruel. I remember a friend in 2nd grade getting teased because her mother was overweight. Kids tease eachother for everything and I will be damned if I give them more ammunition against my perfect little angel. Plus reaching a healthy weight might mean a couple more years with my loved ones. I want to be the mother chasing her kids at the park, playing tag, helping her train for volleyball. Not the fat mother eating hotdogs on the bleachers. So for the last six weeks I have been trying to eat healthier. And working out. Almost everyday I have been doing some sort of exercise while Bug sleeps. It's been hard. I've made every excuse not to but still I am doing it. And its working! As of this week I have lost a little over 10% of my body weight. I've lowered my bmi by four points. I have lost three dress sizes. And I feel amazing. My back and hips which used to ache everyday all day hardly hurt at all. And I have all this energy. Plus my attitude about the whole daily torture is improving. My workouts are becoming more intense. I'm challenging myself in ways I never imagined i would. I'm even planning to walk a 10k with my Bug on my back in may. This isn't easy. It's a daily struggle but looking at my daughter gives me strength. What I started on her behalf I continue now for me. I don't wanna be a fat Momma. At least this is what I repeat to myself while I think I might die doing my daily p90x.carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-17594097878012898592011-12-19T15:27:00.000-08:002011-12-19T15:27:31.856-08:00The Man of the HouseI love my Hubby. He is a great Husband and an even better Father. But he does work full time. Like I have mentioned in the past, breastfeeding is very important to me. So I stay home and take care of Bug while my Dearest slaves away to keep us in the very moderate lifestyle that we have. But every once in awhile he gets a day off. Today just happens to be one of those days. Usually I would try to give him as much love and space as possible. Make sure he gets sometime with Bug just the two of them but generally letting him do whatever he wants. But Christmas is right around the corner. And I have procrastinated so bad this year. I use the whole I have an baby card as much as I can but it is down to crunch time. I have soooo much to do! Which means that while I am at my sisters house, pretending to print out Holiday cards that is already to late to send, and watching youtube videos on how to properly form a ribbon bow, Bug and Hubby are at home. Alone. Going on five hours now. And I actually thought I would feel a tiny, itsy, bit guilty. I don't. I am having a blast. I am even drinking a beer. oh my.carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-39420863761605671182011-12-15T16:24:00.000-08:002011-12-15T16:24:37.687-08:00Happy HolidaysHappy holidays from my family to yours....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYVMKAXaso1cvF9o2djEZ11rzpf-WU35PFjJ2WkK9LAYg3c6wgkdBun1ZRg1eVW7M9b8vIQR5Nui26ttdSUnIBxVVj7aVV-rigD_ZIVRsEhEmKqI7A0f_ZnIjNtRTXnU_YXFpR_oAiYY/s1600/IMG_3694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYVMKAXaso1cvF9o2djEZ11rzpf-WU35PFjJ2WkK9LAYg3c6wgkdBun1ZRg1eVW7M9b8vIQR5Nui26ttdSUnIBxVVj7aVV-rigD_ZIVRsEhEmKqI7A0f_ZnIjNtRTXnU_YXFpR_oAiYY/s200/IMG_3694.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzING9J11llo9BUqpvn8q5HeOdyFYiT3uortGA7-yacJDz-DS89A8WBPrQJKGbxqnxzlhwb41xPWY9Dq-J1G906LJPpD15c4JjFDeyhh9560hikbeAeVtO1v6VnsbDa-dx9PWM4I4oW8A/s1600/IMG_3910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzING9J11llo9BUqpvn8q5HeOdyFYiT3uortGA7-yacJDz-DS89A8WBPrQJKGbxqnxzlhwb41xPWY9Dq-J1G906LJPpD15c4JjFDeyhh9560hikbeAeVtO1v6VnsbDa-dx9PWM4I4oW8A/s200/IMG_3910.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1c4d3KjaN9k8eGEl3vVF4OEMIEU-4EZdfTpHHLbpfqERMy8rKzb1Rhyphenhyphen1gwak1OwgOpC3logMReZK23dUuVJ4-RTxLoTvnh5vI6fR5SyVwJn0kTC70IXvN3Vfp4pPdijlFfRfHuM68uA/s1600/IMG_3969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1c4d3KjaN9k8eGEl3vVF4OEMIEU-4EZdfTpHHLbpfqERMy8rKzb1Rhyphenhyphen1gwak1OwgOpC3logMReZK23dUuVJ4-RTxLoTvnh5vI6fR5SyVwJn0kTC70IXvN3Vfp4pPdijlFfRfHuM68uA/s200/IMG_3969.jpg" /></a></div>carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-42768137460991219292011-12-08T15:11:00.000-08:002011-12-08T15:11:17.451-08:00Tis The SeasonI love this time of year! First Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then my wedding anniversary(Christmas eve), then Christmas, and last but not least New Years. And now that I have a daughter my holiday spirit is in hyperdrive. We have a cute little table top tree. All of Bugs presents are here and ready. Her stocking is stuffed. Next week we are set to go meet our local Santa and take a ride in a horse and carriage. I can't wait!<br />
On the development front Bug is actually walking now. On her own. Little Miss don't touch me I got this! She spends half her time teetering from one place to the other and the rest of the time screaming from falling over and hitting something. I'm seriously considering a helmet. She will not let us help her. And I can only pad so many corners. <br />
Also after our most awful Doctors experience we went to the health department and started Bug on an immunization schedule I feel comfortable with. My sister came with me for support because Hubby had to work. And after stating my request for only two shots and my reason why and not backing down the visit went great. Bug stopped crying the second the nurse let her go and never showed a hint of side effect. I even let her sleep with us all night to make sure. Finally something went medically right for us.<br />
Now that I have gone on and on I will be a complete ass and ask a favor of my readers. If you enjoy my blog and come back to read on a regular basis please take the time to click the link and become a follower. It would help me to know who my readers are, I would get a better idea of what you want to know about my life and make me feel less like an aimless rambler. Thank you all so much. Happy Holidays!carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-89045855856325900902011-11-30T12:45:00.000-08:002011-11-30T12:45:05.919-08:00Momma BearWow. Some people shouldn't be allowed to work with kids. Ever. Bug had her first check up yesterday. Ever. She's 41 weeks. Our small town clinic has a poor track record. If its anything remotely serious I drive an hour north to a better facility, but just general stuff I go there. I trained to take care of my fathers medical needs, I research everything that has to do with my daughters as well. So I thought they could handle taking her measurements and checking her vision and hearing. I didn't know they would also take a heel pricked for anemia check. I have a bleeding problem, my dad had a bleeding problem. I hate to see Bug in pain, but it needed to be done. <br />
Well we found out she is in the 25% for weight and height. She has excellent sight and hearing. She is way advanced in all her functioning and learning. But they thought she was anemic. They sent us to the lab for more blood work. We were extremely hesitant. But it needed to be done. Walking up to the lab I could hear the two technicians scrambling. They were having a hard time finding infant supplies. One woman looked like a hard smoking, leather skined, old bull dog. The man I'm sorry to say looked more then slightly mentally slow. I talked them into letting me hold her instead of strapping her to a table. Then the torture began. Bug didn't seem to mind the second heel stick of the hour. But these idiots were trying to fill an entire vial with a heel stick. My poor baby is a poor bleeder, and a screamer. This stupid bulldog grabs Bugs calf and foot and starts squeezing so hard her hands are white and shaking from the effort. They fill almost a quarter of the vial when the guy drops it. Bugs blood spills across their white tile floor. They start over.<br />
Bug is bright purple, big crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks, screaming for help. I am singing and stroking and shaking. my jaw is clenched to tight I think my teeth will shatter. Hubby is stroking my back watching helplessly.Bulldog tries slapping the bleeding foot, shaking it, rubing it with cottonballs nothing works. Then she says screaming kids bleed better please stop trying to comfort your child! Im done I tell her. We are not doing this. <br />
"Let's try this" she says and wraps a turnicate around Bugs little arm. Dumb and dumber argue over whether or not they can feel a vein. Bulldog says she thinks she can but the guy doesn't think so. " we take her down to ER and strap her to their table, I think I can get an I.V. port in that will give us all the blood we need." <br />
Bug is twisting, screaming, crying, kicking, flailing. Purple. I look at my Hubby. " I am not going to let you go on a fishing expedition for this vein. So unless your 100% sure we are not doing this!" " I don't understand, I...think... I can hit it" she says back to me. The guy reacts appropriately. Put both hands up and backed away from us until he was against a wall, " if that's how you feel." Bulldog continues to try to bully us into this. <br />
I ask to speak to our Dr and give Bug to Hubby. I calmly walk back to the nurse station, where I know everyone, when my saint of a Dr comes round the corner I lose it. I burst into tears, incoherently tell her whats happening. She's appalled. Go bring that child back here its not that important. I go collect my family and the half a vial of my daughters precious blood. My Dr tests the blood they have managed to collect and low and behold her blood levels are PERFECTLY NORMAL!OMFG! Bulldog tries to explain her machine requires more blood then my Drs machine. I reply " No wonder kids hate Dr offices." <br />
We left as fast as we could. As soon as Bug was away from the horrible woman she calmed right down. I on the other hand cried the whole way home. I am so mad at myself for letting the situation go that far. If only I had asked for my Dr earlier. Why do we as a people feel the need to hand over total control to doctors. Even if it goes against ever instinct and knowledge we have. Put a lab coat on a bulldog and they are still just a bulldog.carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-43042066660165662942011-11-29T09:02:00.000-08:002011-11-29T09:02:16.275-08:00Parent GuiltI'm so tired. Complete Mombie. I'm not really sure exactly what happened or when it happened but Bugs sleep schedule went down the drain. Just when I was getting all look at my baby, sleeping almost all night long and in her crib too. I must be the perfect mother. Life steps in and kicks me in my giant momma balls and brings me back to reality. I think I got 3 hours of sleep last night. And that's a good night. I think I'm keeping Foldgers Coffee in business. <br />
No one ever tells you the really real story of how your life is going to be like with a baby. Or maybe I didn't hear them over the hormonal need to reproduce. Cosleeping sounds all warm and fuzzy. You get to nurse and sleep. You get unlimited bonding with your baby. But in reality its like sleeping with an alligator that wants your boobs for its last meal. I thought I had it bad when she would latch on and sleep all night long, as long as I stayed in the same position. But I was wrong. Now she latches on, falls asleep like a little angel, and then flails all. Night. Long. I don't think she stops moving ever. I get slapped, kicked, headbutted, puked on, you name she does it. After the third heel kick to the nose I lost it. And I really try not to do that with her. At this age I think anger is not something she should feel directed at her from her parents.<br />
See there I go getting all self righteous again. So I threw off the blankets, threw a pillow across the room. Might have screamed "this is so not fucking fair. Mommys need sleep to be good fucking mommys. I'M DONE!" And then I stormed to the couch, laid down, and listened to my daughter howl her rage. until my heart broke.carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-54318202515333309222011-11-23T13:14:00.000-08:002011-11-23T13:14:53.622-08:00Funny Sh!tOh wow. I had to wait until Hubby got in the shower and I stopped laughing until I cry. Ok. So its the day before Thanksgiving and I am trying to bake my famous pumpkin and pecan pies. Not being a natural cook it takes all my focus and energy. Hubby is sweetly trying to entertain a very grumpy Bug. Add on top of that we are trying to get ready for the first ever birthday party we have ever gone to, and its storming outside. We have had to pump water, take care of our animals. Normal country living stuff. <br />
So I am generally running around like a ferret on crystal meth. And a tad cranky myself. I have my back turned to the livingroom baking away when I hear Hubby yell "what did you just throw at me? OHMYGODSOFREAKINGROSS! TAKE HER TAKE HER! HELP ME!" <br />
I forgot to tell Hubby that when I just changed Bugs diaper she was getting a little rash so I thought I would be an awesome parent and let her run around bucknaked until we had to dress he in her totally cute party outfit. In my hurry I just thought he would notice and pay a little extra attention. Nope. He went to the DVD shelf to pick himself a movie. And while his back was tuned Bug thought it would be a good idea to poop. And then EAT it. And then share some with her Daddy. <br />
Do you know how hard it is to bath a baby while laughing until you pee alittle. <br />
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4714109603109709674.post-15025340968648825292011-11-11T09:31:00.000-08:002011-11-11T09:31:54.948-08:00Leaps and BoundsHow can so much happen in such a short time. I don't even know where to begin. Guess I will get the bad stuff out of the way first. Bug stuck her hand to our fireplace. Hubby was watching her so I could do frivolous things like brush my hair and teeth when I heard the scream. After all was said and done she has 2nd degree burns on her ring and middle fingers and the top palm of her hand. After a couple hours of hysterical crying and a nap it never bothered her again. A week later it is almost completely healed with no complications. I have never been more angry, sad, and helpless in my life. I couldn't believe Hubby let this happen. This is the first major hurt and now I want to place her in a bubble. On the upside she stays far away from any fireplace now. So I guess lesson learned for both of us. Accidents happened. We deal with it and move on trying not to blame anyone.<br />
Now the good stuff. Bug also took her first steps yesterday! Three whole unassisted glorious steps. And promptly fell on her backside. The look on her face was priceless. And my whole "please don't cry in my presence" self cried and cried and cried some more. <br />
Her personality is really starting to lighten up to thank god! Hubby and I are such goofballs I was a little worried when she didn't crack a smile until 6 months and just recently started laughing. And only for Hubby and I. But now she is playful, giggly, and even loving. My please don't touch me child has decided mommy does the funniest happy dance if given unsolicited kisses. Hey I gotta get kisses anyway I can. I read a phrase from becomingsarah.com once. She tells her adorable daughter she is kiss powered. And I firmly believe I am to. I live for these little spontaneous open mouthed, drool covered kisses. They truly keep me going. Especially when I have to change nasty solid food diapers. Eeewwww.carricomomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04269938881555970870noreply@blogger.com0