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I miss my boy

We left the house at 5:32 Saturday morning to drop Noah off for …

The Big Backpacking Trek of 2012.



Happy Mother Moment #1…

On his last night home he barreled into the living room, slapped something down hard on the table and said, “Can’t forget this.. it’s my most important thing!”

It was his Bible.


Happy Mother Moment #2…

In the final moments before the troop left, a group of us mothers went to the van for a last goodbye. After lots of Bye-Mom’s, several I’ll-Be-Fine-Mom’s and not a few eye roll’s we closed the van doors and walked a ways back to a good vantage point for waving.  A second later I hear the van door open and see my boy sauntering towards me. He gives me a hug, a pat on the back, says “Good-bye Shortie!”  and then he hops back onto the van.

“That Noah’s a good kid,” says the troop leader.


Real Mother Moment #1…

Came home to discover a pile of items that had been removed from his backpack since they were reportedly “non-essential items.” Among them were his extra flashlight, a small collapsible shovel, the ziplock baggies full of carrots I made up for his snack,

and several pairs of clean underwear.


oh my.

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Gotta hurtie

On a day long ago and far away,  Millen got a splinter in her finger. She kept this little tidbit of information to herself.


One day last week, Millen had a painful little bump on her finger. She couldn’t stir the pancake batter. She couldn’t turn the pages to Arianna’s favorite book. She could hardly even do the Wiggles. 

Oh yes, we were in a dreadful state.

So the next day we went to the doctor’s office. “Sumthins skuck in there,” she told the nurse.

“Oh really?” said I.

We went home with a prescription for antibiotics and an appointment card to see a surgeon. Today Millen is having a “procedure” to remove the “sumthin” that’s been “skuck” in her finger for so long.

All prayers, warm thoughts and words of encouragement are most gratefully accepted.

Oh my.

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Learning to be a helper

Every morning when it’s fine… and some mornings when it’s not… the girls and I head out to the backyard to hang laundry. Amelia  has already done the wash, Millen fetches the basket of wet clothes up from the basement, and Arianna flits around like a very excited little butterfly.

“Help you? Help you?”  she asks, the “you” becoming progressively more high pitched and emphatic with each repetition.


Once we’re outside, Millen takes her job of sorting through the laundry very seriously, all of the tee shirts first, then dresses, pants and skirts; all clothing of one type hanging together so we have a neat and orderly looking clothesline. Undies and bloomers go on the middle line, safe from the prying eyes of the neighbor boys. This is very important, especially if you’re Millen.


Arianna starts out calmly. She takes the tee shirts from Millen and hands them to me. One at a time. One at a time… but then the excited little butterfly part of her personality rears its adorable little head and she starts running around through the wet wash, hiding behind the leggings. And then, in a fit of hilarity she pushes over the laundry basket, grabs a handful of clothing and throws them high into the air.

Oh my.


And when I say, “Oh Arianna!” in a terribly disappointed and shocked voice, she runs away.

Oh my, my, my.

And then, when I call her back, around the end of clothesline she goes, giggling and smiling flirtatiously back over her shoulder in what, she mistakenly thinks, is a terribly winsome way.

Oh, my goodness me.


I take her by the hand and walk her back to where I was standing. “We come when we are called,” I tell her. We pick up all of the laundry from the grass and we look carefully to see if any has gotten dirty.

“Sorry DeeDee,” she says, and I give her a hug.


And then we get right back to work.


Did you know that clothespins are extremely fascinating?


And really rather tricky to operate? Millen gives her a few pointers


Before we know it, the baskets are empty, the laundry is drying on the line, the clothes are oh-so-beautifully pinned, and we go back inside.


Our work here is done.

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Something new, something old

Hey gals, check out this adorable new blogger I discovered…

You’re gonna love her… I promise.

But probably not quite as much as I do.
Well, definitely not as much as I do.
But you’ll love her. Oh yeah

 And don’t forget to leave her a comment while you’re there, cuz that’d totes make her day.

In other news, my vintage Christmas giveaway is open for one more day, so don’t forget to skedaddle on over there and enter. Seriously… I want to hear about your family traditions!

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Millen gets into the holiday spirit.

Using this recipe and following the recommendations of her favorite vlogging chef-stress, Millen made some Christmas-time treats.

Then we drizzled them with white chocolate and finished ‘em off with sprinkles and colored sugar.

Lots of sprinkles and lots of colored sugar.
Because you can never have quite enough of that kinda stuff.
Nuh uh.

And then, she packed them in these little boxes.

16 in each box.
4 layers separated by
4 little red squares of tissue paper.
4 candies in each layer.
16 candies to a customer.
And then she wrote out the names of some of her favorite folk on these little sticky labels (she is her mother’s daughter, after all.)

And now, we get to deliver them.

We are very excited about this.
O yes we are.

In other news, today’s blogging chore is writing and rewriting, which I do best in peace and quiet. Seeing as how I’ll be at Mamie’s today and seeing as how things are rarely peaceful and quiet there, I might need your prayers… if you can spare a few, that is.
Oh my.

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Proverbs 31 baby

Arianna is very hospitable.

She welcomes an eclectic mix of folk.

She sets a lovely table,

with the finest of china.

She makes sure the guest of honor has the most comfortable seat

and is most comfortably situated.

She pours so carefully,

and she is loved so much.

She opens her arms to the poor
and extends her hands to the needy.
Proverbs 31:20

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This is my first time trying this… so be gentle with me ladies!
The Gypsy Mama invites everyone to join her every Friday as she “stops, drops, and writes” for 5 straight minutes. No editing. No over thinking. No backtracking. No worrying if it’s just right or not. Oh my goodness, I’m not sure I can do this…

1… 2… 3… Here I go!

I always knew I’d love my kids. I always knew I’d be passionately attached to them. That I’d eat drink and sleep motherhood and that this whole gig would be the defining of me. I always knew that. I expected that.

But this I never expected.

My twenty-one year old daughter left this morning… off for the weekend with her friends. Ponytail bobbing along as she ran to the car in her red and white polka dot dress. With a petticoat underneath and a black cashmere sweater over top. Then she ran back for the cinnamon rolls she’d gotten up early to frost and pack into little red and white boxes. With a separate baggie full of wetnaps and napkins. Where does she get this stuff?

“Gosh girl, I’m gonna miss you this weekend,” I said as she leaned in for a quick hug.

“Oh yeah Mom, who’ll be there to make fun of all the silly things you do?”

“Seriously,” I laughed. “How will I know that I’m being weird if you’re not here to mock me for it, huh?”

“Text me!” She was halfway down the stairs. She held up her phone and waved it back at me as she ran across the driveway. “I can ridicule by text too!”

I never expected to spend so much time smiling. I just never expected being a mom would make me laugh so much. Oh yeah, I knew I’d love my kids….

I just never expected to like ‘em so much.

Troo confession time… I actually wrote for seven minutes.

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Amelia does Monday

Since Amelia “had to be up at five for the baby anyway” she volunteered to do the Monday morning baking. The result: tiny little lattice topped apple pies and wee little pumpkin tarts made in my old little tin patty pans which I had actually completely forgotten I even owned.

And since Noah is off on a camping trip to Gettysburg and since Millen has taken to starting her mornings with an “exercise video” marathon (current fave: Yule Be Wiggling done at least three times in succession)…

Wiggles 4 LYF!

… so since no one needed me and since it’s officially a holiday, yours truly had a perfectly disgraceful morning. I stayed in bed until seven thirty, had latte and the aforementioned pie-lettes for breakfast and then went out for coffee with the Pastor’s wife.

And oh lookie! Now it’s time for lunch!

Yep, livin’ the dream… that’s me. Pretty much.

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