Strawberry Pickin'

There's a pattern slowly but surely developing with us: in the middle of chaos, we seem to find ourselves at some farm picking our own fruit. Last summer, we picked blackberries as a welcome respite from night classes and the land of Mickey.

This year, while Teddy was in the hospital a few weeks ago, I took a break from my bedside vigil and headed out with Sarah and Will and my mother-in-law in search of my favorite fruit, straight off the vine.

Don't worry: neither of these children are in any danger of becoming renowned farmers.

Approximately half a row into our little jaunt, the peeps bailed on the manual labor 

in favor of see-sawing.

I can't say that I blamed them. 

Even I got tired of it after awhile, leaving Karin as the last (wo)man standing.

She soldiered on, row by row, filling her gallon plus Will's quart.

In the end our haul was impressive, especially once Karin supplemented our relatively slim pickings and bought a flat of already-picked berries. 

While their Nana wheeled-and-dealed, 

my mountain goats devoted themselves to climbing a pile of rocks,

and digging holes to China.

This was serious business, seeing as how the general consensus was that China is where Jesus is.  So...yeah.

I think we might need to make it to church a little more regularly.

Up next: strawberry freezer jam production.

I'm putting these kiddos to work, washin' cars and mashin' strawberries.

What's on your Memorial Day agenda?

Mother's Day: Out of the Mouths of Babes

Ah, Mother's Day.  The one day of the year that every mom in the trenches would just like to spend not doing the very things that make her a mother.  Every year, I have this fantasy that Mike will hand me the key to a hotel room with 5-star room-darkening shades and decent room service.  And I would sleep.  And sleep.  And sleep.  And not have to feed, clothe, bathe, or otherwise care for anyone else. 

Instead, it lands on my least favorite day of the week, and Mike is usually working.  

Sigh.

Don't get me wrong: I feel a little ashamed about this fantasy, but I don't think I'm alone in my sentiments. 

And of course I love my children.  

But every once in awhile it's nice to love them from afar, while somebody else breaks up fights, scrapes every tiny piece of rice off  the chicken, and searches high and low for the missing Ninja Turtle sock.  

Anyway, cheers to all the moms out there, taking it hour by hour and celebrating with overly-moist kisses and chubby arms around her neck!

Here are some interviews I did with the chilluns about me.  

I think you'll find them enlightening, since I must be some sort of medical miracle.
I guess I've earned the old lady jokes, since I do find 4:30 in the afternoon
to be a perfectly acceptable time for dinner.

Enjoy!

Two Months

One thing I've learned about Teddy is that this guy knows how to celebrate.

Seriously, he must have really wanted to mark the beginning of his third month of life in style, so he took us back to where it all began: the hospital.  Yep, our family enjoyed 5-star accommodations just two floors down from labor and delivery.  I'm pretty sure Teddy noticed the differences this time around, in that HE was the one with an IV stuck in his arm (and his leg). 

Suffice it to say, Teddy was a pretty sick little booger for several days. 

It seemed like every time there was an either/or scenario, Teddy got the raw end of the deal.

So, 2 blood tests, a urinalysis, and a spinal tap later, we found out that this guy had meningitis.

Now, meningitis is a nasty piece of work, but there are two kinds.  It takes 72 hours to determine which kind you have, so they start out hitting it hard with antibiotics via IV.

Sweet lil' pup knows how to smile through tears.

Though these pictures don't show it, things were pretty rough 

and it is not an experience I wish to relive ever again, in print or conversation.

But, thanks to a quick catch and a truckload of prayers (Thank you!), Teddy came home on Monday.

Paging Dr. Brown.  Dr. Brown, you're needed for a funny bone replacement.

Anyway, I meant to get this out on Wednesday, but then we all got hit with a stomach bug.

So, my Thursday night was spent with a wine glass in one hand and a bottle of bleach in the other.

Good times!

Without further ado (and a week late), I give you:

The 2 month stats:

Hair:  It's fluffy and a lot lighter than it started out.

Eyes:  Big and blue right now.

Chins:  Only two.  He lost his third chin during the hospital stay and 2 bouts of stomach bug, but the prognosis on regaining it looks good.

Height/Length:  21.5 inches and built like a basset hound, all torso like me.

Weight:  11 lbs. 3 oz.

Duds:  He's in 0-3 months sizes, and the warm weather has him showing of those gorgeous gams all the time.

Turn-ons: Ceiling fans; tummy time; flirting; singing "Wheels on the Bus" and "If You're Happy and You Know It"; kicking those fat legs; long walks; milk

Turn-offs: Poor service; spinal taps; anybody comin' at him with a catheter.

Language: He's still vocal, but I feel like he's squeaking a lot less now than even a week ago.
                My man's a ham, and lets his thoughts be known.

I took these pictures on Cinco de Mayo (the day we got home from the hospital), so here's the tough little dude doing a Mexican hat dance.

Have a great Saturday!