Running Stitch

We are going to start off easy on the first day of Advent, The first day of December (we are even a few hours early, yay us!).

I may have alluded to The Man’s obsession with my Pioneer Woman cooks cookbook, Once or twice.

Seriously this is a great place to start. We have ordered four copies just to give as gifts this season. And No, he doesn’t get his own copy, he is going to have to continue to share mine, but if you could help me figure out how to get him invited to the Pioneer Woman’s Lodge that would be great. Afterall he’s cute and likes horse and hors d’oeuvres. A little play on words there. Ha! I’m cute too!

But anyway. Not only does the Pioneer Woman’s cookbook make a great gift, it’s like a gift in a gift. Often at the holidays I will whip up a half batch of the Pioneer Woman’s cinnamon rolls, which I downloaded long ago via her website, before she even had a book.

It looks like she first posted this in 2007. I have taken her up on the advice an have made plates and plates of cinnamon rolls (the recipe makes about 7 pie plates of cinnamon rolls/I usually cut it in half) to deliver to neighbors on frosty holiday mornings. Sometimes I even sprinkle crushed candy canes on top. You know ‘cuz it is all Christmasy and stuff.

I love this cookbook, just as I loved the blog, each page is full of easy step by step picture directions, so you know just what you are supposed to be seeing and doing. It’s like the Half blood Prince’s guide to cooking for the cooking challenged.

I have yet to have anyone turn down my cinnamon rolls, especially not my boys. And while I’m shamelessly plugging the Pioneer Woman’s cookbook, because I love her, do you know her? could you introduce us? I really am plugging the gift of time. Don’t underestimate the gift of your time. Time to make cinnamon rolls for your little ones, your not so little ones, the neighbors down the street or the ones you always meant to introduce yourself to.

Cinnamon Rolls for the win! And they are biodegradable!!

Do Re Mi-Julie Andrews

It’s that time of year, very busy at work, the holidays are fast approaching, we are week behind in pretty much everything after last week’s snow. On the horizon? violin concerts, The nutcracker, presents to make, and mail. And just over the hump (Wednesday that is) Advent begins.

Naturally I want to rearrange the house and paint.

I don’t know what is wrong with me. I know my timing is so bad. But for some reason at the end of every semester with enough Papers and Finals to choke a horse waiting to be graded I feel the need to re arrange my room!

Tonight I tried to convince my husband that I could build a desk. He wisely agreed with me and quickly left the room.

These inappropriate remodeling urges are why I spend a lot of time at campus working. They don’t let me paint there. Of use power tools. Especially not the welding equipment.

In order to try and choke some of the re arranging ness until January (much more appropriate timing!) I’ve decided to do my own version of a bloggy Advent calender.

Our Advent calender was made by my Mother In Law for her son

Each day, starting on Wednesday I’m going to treat you to a fun craft, and easy recipe or for those of you who like me do not brave the stores after Thanksgiving a quick online shopping stocking stuffer idea.

It’s not much. But it will keep things Christmasy here, as if I need help with that! And hopefully keep me from painting amongst the Christmas decorating.

Let’s cross our fingers and see how it goes!

The Christmas Waltz-The Carpenters

There are still frozen piles of snow and ice around the neighborhood, though my boys have done their best to smash all remaining piles to smithereens.

The wintery backdrop slowly melted away over the course of the holidays but was still here in force on Thanksgiving lending a magical quality to being warmly gathered around the Turkey. I know. I love the snow. I can’t help it. I just do. And now the boys are old enough to enjoy playing in it long after I have given up, or hobbled inside possibly injured by over enthusiastic sledding. Either one.

But I digress, our Thanksgiving, while close to home (conveniently we live next door to the in laws) was still spent in a flurry of early morning baking and cooking. Even the smallest of elves help make bread in the kitchen. Although he is most adept at make A Mess.

While we live next door to His Family, My Family lives far far away. A five hour plane ride, which my littlest was willing to take to see his Uncle Bill and Aunt Wois because he wuvs them sooo much! He had to settle for video chatting with them this year. Pictured above, one of my sisters in Philadelphia, and one in Seattle. I give you video chat as one more way technology is bringing us closer to our friends and family this holiday season. (We were only able to chat with one person at a time, thus the two laptops, that at one point were pointed towards each other with a child’s head in between.)

By mid afternoon we seemed to have it all under control, and there may have even been a small amount of napping. I KNOW!! I feel like a cheater! Napping on Thanksgiving. I’ll have you know though that I made the bread and the sweet potato pie, along with helping the six year old with his pumpkin pie.

Around four we wandered next door, in multiple trips, because there just weren’t enough reliable hands to carry my three dishes, along with The Man’s stuffed jalapenos (yum!) courtesy of the Pioneer Woman Cooks (he may or may not sleep with that book). Random side note, did you know that Ree Drummond has her own Wikipedia blurbage? I know! She is so famous now. Also apparently her tractor heels to wagon wheels book has been bought by Columbia? Crazy pants. This whole bloggy ride. The downside, is she’ll probably never have me over now since there are a million of us who love her now.

The man made some other dishes too, like asparagus, but frankly the jalapenos burned the memory of most of the meal right out of my mouth! They are that good.

Afterward my six year old rendered this drawing describing exactly how we all felt.

He very nicely put it on the fridge, I’m not sure if it is a warning or what.

Winter Wonderland-Anyone you want

Today I just let it go. Which is completely different then giving up. Giving up implies you have no power or control. Letting go is the opposite, oh look at me choosing to let go.

What did I let go of? I let go of having a schedule. When school is canceled as it was again today, I try to keep us on the school schedule, getting up on time, eating at regular times, doing some school work, reading. I make sure we have rest time and dinner.

Today, the second snow day and the New! Improved! beginning of Thanksgiving break, I just let it go. We wandered the road, visited with neighbors, lunched with grandma and grandpa, chatted online with other snowbound friends (although no one seems to be quite as snowbound as us. They don’t plow our road because it’s not that much of a hill (tell the Turtledashers that!)) ironed out cooking schedules for tomorrow, knitted, watched Christmas movies, and kept the fire going.

I can tell you this a hundred times, but I never listen to myself. I find that when I’m stressed out and grumpy if I just take a step back, allow myself to sit and knit while the boys watch the polar express, if I accept the lunch invitation from my inlaws instead of rushing home to make lunch in a frazzled state, things are just fine.

Just fine. No one even knows that this is not how I planned the day, and frankly no one really cares. My plan, my need to organize, my need to make lists. These are all my deals. No one else’s.

Today I let myself off the hook made it okay to not accomplish much, to try my hand at knitting a mitten or two. My house is not sparkly, it is just as lackluster as it was yesterday when I was stressed about it. Better day today! Same end result.

As for Thanksgiving day? The next generation has it well hand. True to form, he has been preparing for weeks, we’ve already had a trial run of the Pumpkin Pie.

He obviously gets that from his father.

*Here it goes again -OK Go

November 2006

Saturday we had a Mr. Moo driven funeral. He wrote a speech, he played a song on his violin. The Man made a cross for the grave, at the boy’s request, all though they were still holding out for a carved stone marker. We had long conversations about how long. Loooong that would take. They really wanted to carve the stone themselves. In the end they agreed to the wooden marker so that they could move forward with their funeral plans.

I nixed the ‘very sad’ decorations that my oldest wanted to make, and we talked about the difference between a party and a memorial.

My four year old declared he needed to bring his Sword to Dog Hill

Sunday was the final performance of “Oklahoma” our first born’s first on stage experience. He auditioned in September and was cast in the role of ‘child’ which frankly, he is very prepared for. We learned a lot. It was a lot of late nights, and tired boy but there was a lot of excitement as well. He preformed on a stage that I have preformed on, as well as one his aunts and uncle have all walked across. He carries on the long thespian tendencies of my my side of the family (a tad dramatic are we) which probably didn’t start with my father and definitely didn’t end with him.

It was a long weekend. That followed a long sad week. But, the beat goes on as they say. We said a final goodbye to our Doggie Saturday, left him to rest on Dog Hill, where he can watch over us all from now, without needing to herd us into one spot. And we went on, as life does. To play performances and to work and school.

This week we celebrate all that we are thankful for and this week I’m thankful that Jonah passed quietly, last week, that the play is over for now and we can all rest and recover. And I’m thankful for the one day school week we had this week thanks to Snow. Allowing us to recover from last week, together, by the fire.

And a little bit outside.

The Beat goes on-Sonny and Cher

Snow Day-Emma
song courtesy of Loobylu

Today at The Burrow we said goodbye to one of our own. The one who has been with us the longest in the time we have spent at The Burrow.

Jonah.

Photographs courtesy of the fabulous Jenica Lemmons

Jonah who has walked by our sides up and down this Creek Road for almost seven years, left us rather abruptly this afternoon. He waited for his six year old friend to get home from school, and then The Stitches said goodbye to our four legged pal in the cramped bathroom where he had made himself a nest of our dirty laundry. Legolas was called. And she arrived promptly to escort young Stitches away for the afternoon.

Photographs courtesy of the fabulous Jenica Lemmons

Jonah had been sick for a while, medication obviously wasn’t enough for him. And this afternoon I was more grateful than I could say for these pictures that arrived, timely as it was in our mailbox from Jenica. We sat for a family session in October and on a whim I had her take some shots of the Menagerie in action.

Jonah was a great dog, he was friendly with the kids, he was strong, and powerful, he used to jump from bank to bank above the creek after balls, wow could he run. Throughout his seven and a half years with us (out of nine total) he was a running partner, a walking partner, a baby holder, a baby cleaner, and a baby vacuum. He loved the boys so much, that even as he lay practically unresponsive this afternoon he moved for them. When we brought the sad Stitch boys to him, he managed to move his head towards their voices and wag his tail. This was more than he had done in the hour before, when I called The Man because I was sure it was over.

Jonah in one of his many, many costumes, that he put up with.

Jonah was my protector. When I was pregnant he used to try to get as close as he could to me at all times. When the boys were babies he would lay on his back and wiggle over to them signaling to us that he was not aggressive but wanted to sniff that thing! It smells delicious.

When I was pregnant with my second son, My older son toddled around in the fenced in yard while I waddled after him. A neighborhood dog (badly behaved) came running up to the fence, aggressively barking at my son who was close to the fence. I wasn’t worried, understanding how fences work and all, but Jonah ran over, lifted his leg and urinated all over myself and my toddler.

I was pretty sure Jonah had lost his mind.

But later a friend, who raises labs, told us that he was marking us. As his own. As in, you mess with my People, you mess me. FISTS OF FURRY!!!!!

(HA! I’m funny).

The whole thing endeared Jonah to me forever. I liked him alot before and all. But a little urine within the tribe goes a long way with this Mama.

Jenica Lemmons

When I was a SkSdM (Single kid, single dog mama) Jonah and I were regulars up and down the road, with Moo in the backpack, we wandered up and down this road.

I can barely remember a time when Jonah wasn’t a part of The Burrow and for the boys that time has never existed, until now. Today as The Man and his father dug a grave on Dog Hill, I looked at the pictures from Jenica, read through old blog posts, like The story of when Jonah went to the Pound, cried and thought about my old pal, who has stuck with us through so much, loyal and stoic to the end. Not wanting to cause us any bother.

The Man has his shovel, a necessary part of the grieving process, and I have my blog. A place to record the song lyrics that I used to sing to Jonah, His theme song. As we wandered up and down the creek and he lost ball after ball.

(To the theme of Lola)

Joooonah, My dog’s Name is Jooooonah
Well, Jonah’s a dog
He’s not very smart
He likes to chase balls
but u sual ly he loooses them all.

Arf arf arf Bark Bark Bark Bark Bark
Bark Bark Bark Bark Bark Arf arf arf
Oh my Jonah Jo o o o ooonah
Jo o o o ooonah
Jonah.

Oh my Jonah.

Photographs courtesy of the fabulous Jenica Lemmons

Lola-Kinks

“Today’s the Day!” I say to them. “The Day I sell you to the gypsies!”
“Mooooom! You are just joking!” says my oldest.
“But I wuvvv you!” says my youngest complete with pouty lip.
“Oh well” I say, “maybe not today”.

I have seventeen pictures of this hat and they are all this blurry, because he never! Stops! moving!

We all have our moments we are not proud of, and mine are the gypsy moments. The ones where I yell “That’s it! Today I really am selling you to the gypsies!” And the poor little dears, my babes. They fall for it every time.

Long ago, in another life, I was a social worker. I saw a lot of bad things. Bad things that I left behind when I became a mom because I could not go to work and see those bad things and then come home and be a mom, I struggled to be a wife through those bad things. It was a gift when, on maternity leave my husband was offered a job that allowed me to make the decision to stay home with our first son.

One thing I saw over and over again were broken children, who chose to go home. Every. Time. The bond between children and their parents is strong, even though sometimes, sadly it is only one way. Unfortunately selfish people are gifted children as well, and children will love and protect, and choose their parent over and over again, even as the public shakes their head in disbelief.

I am a believer in both Nature and Nurture. I believe some things are in our nature, and I believe that nurture always effects us. Either because we are nurtured or because we are not.

My children, don’t believe that I will sell them to the gypsies, not because I nurture them. They believe because it is their nature to trust me. The adult who hold so much power over their daily lives. It’s a weird word there, Power. I don’t get up each morning and think “I have power over them bwahhaahahaaha!” But neither do other folks. Does a neglectful parent think that? Doubtful. I doubt they have the actual thought, but still deep down, they know it. No matter what else is going on in their life, they do have power over something.

I can set the whole tone of the day at The Burrow and I try to. I try to make sure we all get up early enough that we are not rushed through our breakfast, I make sure clothes are laid out the night before, lunches are packed.

I make sure homework is done, kisses are distributed and love administered. I am also in charge of the time out corner, enforcing the chores and being not fun some days.

blurry and weirdly lit!

What’s my point? I don’t know, I lost myself there. I just wanted to post a cute post about my sons and how adorable they are with their steadfast loyalty and constant compliments. “Mom! You are so beautiful!” “That is a beautiful Princess skirt!” Sometimes though I remember, that there are other children out there, that I have met. Who are not as cherished as my boys. Whose mother’s don’t try to document every conversation, costume, or catchphrase for fear she will forget. There are some children out there who no one cares for, or would notice, if one day they did simply go off to live with the gypsies.

And it breaks my heart today, more than it broke my heart seven years ago, before I had the power. The power to do good or evil, the power to protect and love and cherish. Because the Power it is a gift. A gift I would never give away. Or sell.

Me: What did you say?
Him: I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to God. I’m telling him I do not want to be sold to the gypsies because I wuv you so much.

And I pick him up in my arms and hold him to my face. Because I can.

And I say “I will never sell you to the gypsies, because I love you so much”

“Good” he says” and he wraps my hair around his fist and squeezes me tight enough to remind me that he will not always be four and a half.

Gypsy-Fleetwood Mac

Last Week Grandma arrived via the train. The boys get so excited when Grandma comes on the train that they forget what they are about.

Usually they are about leaping about and running in circles.

Most often the are about asking questions “How much food have I eaten in my life?”"How many breafs have I taken in my life?” “When will I get fat?” “When is Christmas?” “How did you know what my name was when I was born?”

There is no manual for how best to answer these questions, and we all know that like most parents, I’m flying by the seat of my pants. Which is why it is nice, once in a while to see them stand still, quietly.

You know, so I can regroup.

*Following the Leader-Peter Pan Disney

{this moment} -(via Soulemama) A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.