Good, Bad, Good

Things have been good and then they have been bad and then good again.  So... normal life.


Good

We recently headed south for a quick Kansas fix.  Whilst there, we held babies.

We played with the other nieces, too, but they don't hold still long enough for me to take a picture, so here's more baby-holding.

Bad

Monday morning I woke up at 5:30.  It was one of those sleepy, coming-slowly-to-consciousness "Wait, what time is it?" before jolting upright and realizing you didn't hear your alarm or never set it or something, the result being you overslept by nearly an hour and left your friend standing alone in the dark at 5 a.m.  I felt terrible.  She insisted that it was fine, she needed a day off anyway, blah blah blah, lies lies lies to make me feel better.

It was too late to run, so I decided I'd go ahead and get a little work done before rousing the rest of the family.  I went downstairs to make my coffee.  Coffee maker goes on strike, won't dispense a single solitary drop of caffeine-nectar-goodness, and how do I keep breaking coffee makers?  I do not have fancy tastes, or the need of special gadgets or anything.  I use regular-people drip coffee makers (Dear internet people who spend a curious amount of time each day preparing a liquid that ends up tasting about the same as the stuff truckers buy at gas stations:  get a hobby.  Perhaps a high-maintenance tiny dog?), and regular-people coffee (cheapo coffee beans from Aldi that I do, admittedly, grind myself because cockroaches are gross), so why does my coffee maker keep breaking?

Anyway, after learning that I would not be getting any coffee, successfully suppressing the urge to rend my clothing and tearfully ask the universe why bad things happen to good people, I decided that I would move on, and get to working.  I booted up the computer, and there was no internet.  No internet means no work.  So at 5:50 a.m. I gave up on Monday.





Good

Our children are finally old enough that playing games with them doesn't make me want to die (I'm looking at you, Hi-Ho! Cherry-O and your ilk).  We love Qwirkle,

and Quiddler with the older two,

and Atticus will play chess with tiny Darth Vader when Derek isn't home, because Atticus and Derek love chess but I do not, because it is boring.

Bad

Yesterday afternoon Caedmon began screaming and running around even more than usual.  Bees again.  Atticus had those two bee stings last month, Caedmon got two yesterday, and Adelaide claims to have seen a line of bees going in and out of a hole in the ground.  Do bees nest in the ground?  I thought they built their hives up in, um, you know, places that are not holes in the ground.

It turns out neither of our boys are allergic to bees, so today Caedmon is just sporting an extra welt on his forearm and one ear is about 20% larger and weirder looking than the other, but who cares because ears are super weird-looking anyway.  I know this because I spent a solid ten minutes staring at one yesterday, trying to scrape a bee's stinger out of one of those folds of cartilage that make up the outer ear.  The pinna?  See above gif yet again.






Good

Atticus likes to pedal this knife-sharpening contraption that my grandparents have at their house.  You push one of the pedals- the other being currently non-functional- and the stone spins.  Atticus pushes one of the pedals, and Grandpa inevitably whips out a pocket knife to sharpen, and tells us about pedaling the tool as a boy, then as he got older using it to sharpen mower blades, and boy, wasn't that a pain!

Four Things

• No one coddles our youngest like his big sister.  Derek and I tell him to settle down, or shake it off, or any of the other things you say when your child is crying more for attention's sake than anything else, then along comes Adelaide, who picks him up and gives him the sympathy his cruel parents insist on depriving him of.  Never mind that it's blatantly clear he is getting too big for such things.

• Common Household Mom recently wondered how the Iowa corn crop is doing this year.

From what many native Iowans have insisted upon telling me every year since we moved here, corn should be "knee-high by the fourth of July."  (Note:  Never have I met a people group who enjoy talking about corn as much Iowans.  After writing the following, I must accept that I am now one of them.)  As you can see above- where I pulled the car over on the way to the library to get this picture as photo evidence for CHM- it is significantly above knee-high.  As of about a week ago, the conversations I overheard from area farmers were positive; they were pleased with their corn and soybean crops this year, although they did mention how dry it had been.  It's rained several inches in the past week, so hopefully that has helped.  We've also had a pretty cool summer thus far- Atticus has his arms wrapped around him in the photo above, as sixty degrees was a little chilly for his t-shirt-and-shorts attire.  From a cranky gardener's standpoint (that would be mine, always), my vegetable garden is not producing this year.  My tomato plants are tiny, my pumpkin plants are tiny, my pepper plants are tiny.  The lettuce has done really really well, no doubt due to the cool weather, and I got more strawberries than ever in early June, but that's about it.  

• This is our library's Overdue Fines chair.  

Kidding.  A representative from a local science center gave a presentation at our library, and at the end anyone who had always dreamed of sitting on a chair whose seat is made up of sharp nails- pointy side up, of course- could give it a go.  The point of the whole thing (pun INTENDED) was... um... something about pressure per cubic whatever... or something- and look, I was busy helping other people during the presentation and couldn't really listen, so lay off, okay?  Anyway, it was not the most comfortable chair I've ever rested upon, but it was still better than those restaurant booths that have a weird piece of trim that protrudes from the back and hits you right at the neck (or mid-back for Derek).  

• And now, a gratuitous photo of one of my nieces.

Exotic Travels

I'm going to be honest:  I will not be sorry to see the backside of June.

What's supposed to be a warm and somewhat carefree month has been cooler than usual and full of unexpected change.  No me gusta.


Still, there have been good pieces to this month.  I got to go see my sisters and their families.

I am evidently an exhausting house guest, as most of my six nieces passed out toward the end of my stay at each house.

I spent most of that visit trying to cram as many words as possible into the time with my sisters, and marveling at how each niece is so unique.  Growing up in a family as one of three girls, and seeing my mom- also one of three girls- with her sisters, you would think this wouldn't be quite so astonishing, but you would be forgetting how slow I sometimes am.  Both of sisters now have three girls of their own, and each child is so different, there is no lumping them into categories.  Their natures refuse to let this happen.

This is the one who started it all, who made me realize that being an aunt is ah-mazing, as you get to do all that playing and cuddling and marveling at their traits and personalities without having to ask yourself regular questions like, "Just how much did I screw them up today?" and "Hmmm, what are the chances they'll remember that?  Hopefully very, very small."  Instead you just get to try and smother your laughter when they're sassy or naughty, although this is especially difficult when they're being just like their mother and it's all you can do not to say, "Man, I remember that glare appearing on 5-year-old Kelli's face."  

I also swung by southeast Kansas and got to spend some time with my grandparents.  Hallelujah.

I was unable to get solitaire working again on my grandpa's iPad, marking me as a failure of a granddaughter.  Grandma saved the day by helping Grandpa figure out how to play on her iPad, but only after making him promise "not to get cranky because it's different and you have to learn something new."  Grandpa promised, possibly because he would swear anything to get his hands on the solitaire.  

Grandpa also dug up carrots and onions for me to take home.  Anytime I tried to help he waved me away, never mind that it felt shameful to watch an 88 year old work while I just stood there.

So I took a picture, because that's better.

I also spent an inordinate amount of time staining wood for a big project we've had going over the past several weeks, which deserves a post of its own.  Also needing their own posts:  the boys' soccer camp, running stuff, and a State of Our Yard Address.  Putting it here means it will happen... right?

Also, our kids are still the cutest.

Here a Niece, There a Niece

When my sister Kelli was a baby, she was seriously cute, all dark brown eyes and dimples.  Of course, I didn't really appreciate that at the time, being only three years old and pissed from the start over the fact that they didn't name her Amy like I wanted.

"Kelli and the Floating Heads" sounds like a great band name.

Thankfully she has passed that cuteness on to her sweet babies, including the newest, Kate, who makes you so happy when you hold her you feel a halo of divine light surrounding your person.

The great and terrific and wonderful part of being the aunt rather than the parent is you can swoop in, hold the baby for so long that you know she's going to give her parents fits after you leave trying to get her to sleep anywhere but on a person, then waltz off a couple days later, secure in the knowledge that you, at least, will get a good night's sleep that night.

Unless you have a kid with night terrors.  Then sleep is never guaranteed.  But at least half of that paragraph up there applies to me.  I'll take it.

I like to think it also makes those parents appreciate their little bundle, as evidenced by Aaron muttering (good-naturedly), "Oh, I finally get to hold my baby?" when you hand her over after hogging her for most of the day.

This baby is just so loved.  Her two older sisters will be playing, minding their own business, then they'll catch sight of her out of the corner of their eyes, and come over to kiss and talk to her, which is good, because there are years of screaming ahead.  I don't really ever remember lowering ourselves to the level of hair-pulling, but oh, was there screaming.

Not yet, though.

Now, don't worry, I also played Annoy the Baby at Kelli's.  I probably took a million pictures of Norah while I was there, and it took a loooong time before she was done.

This was first thing in the morning, okay?  FIRST THING.

And yet, when I said, "Norah!  Hi, Norah Mae!"  She turned and SMILED.  The girl smiled at me.

Do you know what would have happened if you had done this to me, or, God forbid, Kelli when we were kids?

Not Stephanie, though.  No, she preferred to wake up early and TAP DANCE on the kitchen floor, which was conveniently right over my slumbering teenage head, causing me to spend many an adolescent morning plotting her painful death immediately after waking.

So how could I tell when Norah was done with picture-taking?  Well, it was subtle.

"Hey, Norah, can I take a picture of your shirt to send to Kim?"   *sigh* "Okay."  

And then I left her alone for a while.

As for this girl:

As the oldest of three girls, she is a child after my own heart.  She knows what needs to be done, and specifically how to do it, and will not let things slide, not on her watch.  I am convinced she could rule her own tiny kingdom if she wanted to.

Plus she's just dang cute.

Of course, now my mean, evil sisters are posting all kinds of adorable pictures of their babies smiling, which they were both so close to doing while I was there.  I would look in their infant eyes and smile and make faces and talk and I could just tell they were thinking, "Aunt Kristy, you are so hilarious and obviously also very charming and intelligent and if I could just get these zygomaticus muscles in check I'd smile to let you know how I feel!"

That One Aunt

Thanks to Derek and his parents picking up the slack and taking care of our kids, I got to go see my sisters a couple weeks ago.  My sisters are worth visiting all on their own, but when you add their terrific families, which now include TWO NEW BABIES- one apiece- I mean, I just couldn't stay away.  Especially when our mother starts throwing around phrases like, "If you want to go see the new babies once they're born, I'll pay for your travel expenses."  I was very calm and chill when she threw that offer on the table, FYI.

No, I wasn't.

Once there, I got to play one of my favorite games:  Annoy the newborn.  The aim of this game is simple:  hold and love and coo at the newborn until sheer overwhelming persistence forces them to love you.  You may choose to go about it another way, but my strategy sounds something like this:  "Gwen!  Hi, Gwen!  Gwennie!  Gweeeeeniiiiie!  Open your eyes, Gwen!  It's your Aunt Kristy!  Hello, Gwen!  You're so soft, Gwen!  You're so tiny, Gwen!  I'm so glad you're here, Gwendolyn!"

I think my results speak for themselves:

 And finally,

Here she is clearly thinking, "When exactly are you going to go home and leave me in peace?"  Or maybe, "Thank God you're not the aunt that lives within 300 miles of me."

Really, though, this is a child who will most likely never be left alone, as her sisters love her, ahem, a whole lot.

Babies holding babies, which is a much nicer concept than babies having babies, which is what my nurse said while I was in labor with Atticus and we were serenaded by the screaming of the young teenager next door delivering her own baby.  She had at first refused an epidural, later changed her mind, but alas, it was too late.  She let the entire ward in on her displeasure.  I was just thankful I wasn't in labor with our first baby, or it would have scared the pants off of me.  Except my pants were already off.  You understand what I'm saying.

Thankfully, these big sisters are already providing wonderful examples of how to live your life to baby Gwen.

I mean, the girl's reading a book, practicing her yogic Easy pose, while getting her hair did.  I know adults who don't have their lives together like this preschooler does.




Later this week, my other sister's cherubs, and ways in which I like to frighten Derek when I'm traveling alone!

Niece Hoarder

I'm on High Alert:  Operation Impending Babies right now.  Every text I receive could be from one of my sisters telling me they're in labor.  As I told Kelli a few days ago, I am in a sweet, sweet spot in all this baby business, as I get all the excitement but none of the pain.  Glory hallelujah.

Yes, indeedy-do, each of my two sisters are due to have their third baby girl any time now.  You remember my sisters, right?  Kelli, the middle child, who I once convinced to play chicken on the old highway down the road from our house, where we'd run out in front of passing cars, seeing who could get closest without actually getting hit?  That sister.  (Incidentally, that is the last time I remember getting a spanking from my mother.  Sometimes, when I've been sitting for too long, I believe I can still feel the effects of that particular disciplinary action.  It turns out fear gives mothers divine strength.  Thanks a lot, neighbor who snitched on us- no, but really, thank you, you likely saved our lives.)

Or Stephanie, the youngest, who Kelli and I used to stuff in a sleeping bag and shove down the stairs?  Or shove in a laundry basket and pull around the kitchen, bouncing off the sharp cabinet corners?  Or shove in the dryer, because how else were we supposed to answer the age-old question, "Will our baby sister fit in the dryer?"

Those sisters.


I was worried they were both going to be selfish and deprive me of any more nieces, but thankfully they both managed to get knocked up a third time and now my family and I will have even more little girls to smother with our well-meaning, overly-affectionate love.  We got to see them a month ago, where we did our best to get enough niece/cousin time to last us a while.

Adelaide also made sure to demonstrate to all the little girls that you're never too big to sit in Grandma's lap.

Incidentally, our children still love to sit in our laps.  I love this, too, even if it feels like this most of the time:

Come on, nieces.  You have an aunt ready to smoosh and smooch you, plus I have it on good authority your mothers are perhaps just the teensiest bit uncomfortable right now.  I don't want to point any fingers, but some of you aren't being very careful with your pointy knees and elbows.

Inspirational Nieces, Uninspirational Quotes

Yesterday I talked about how fortunate we were to avoid any smoke or pasture burning while in Kansas.  Then half of the state caught fire.

Well, not quite half the state.  It would be half if we were talking about Rhode Island or one of those other states in New England, but out here?  Not so much.

Anyway, I've learned my lesson.  Call it paranoia, call it magical thinking, whatever; I'm going to be a little more careful about what I mention, because it would seem that I don't know my own powers.  I'm already half scared to post any photos of adorable children jumping ever so charmingly together, because surely next will come a call from my mother saying her trampoline didn't just wear out, it exploded in her backyard.  What?  Seeing causal relationships where mere coincidence resides is the new black.


When I wasn't driving and worrying about smoke and speeding and shysters, I was marveling over how far into spring Kansas had already bounded:  The forsythia and daffodils and dogwoods were in bloom, there was no snow anywhere, and we didn't wear our coats the whole time we were there.  It was beautiful, but did make me pout a little when we returned back home.  This morning's snowstorm didn't exactly help with those resentful feelings, either.

If you've haunted this blog for any length of time, you know that my two sisters married two brothers, and each of these two families have two daughters, but that strangely and wonderfully enough, those double-cousins are nothing like each other.  The girls in one family are petite sprites who want to have their hands wiped clean after every bite of cupcake and will give you shy smiles only after you have spent a solid hour proving yourself worthy of their affection.

She is this gorgeous in real life, too.

The other two are sturdy, stomping bundles of love who are more concerned with cramming as much cake in their mouth at once than maintaining a clean visage.

She is this gorgeous in real life, too.  

You know what they remind me of?  My mom's tendency to sort her friends into loose categories of "cat friends" and "dog friends."  Her cat friends are the ones that she usually has to contact, sometimes going so far as to drag them out of their houses to come socialize.  Dog friends are those that call and make the plans and host the parties.  I have nieces who bound to you for a cuddle as soon as they get out of the car, rolling around and frolicking and laughing- I'll call them "puppy nieces," as dog nieces sounds like I'm inferring they're ugly, which they most assuredly are not- and then I have cat nieces, who will approach only when they're good and ready, and who are fun to watch and pet and smooch, but only on their terms.  They are all equally lovable, and equally perfect, in large part because they're so different, rather than in spite of.

My sisters are pretty great, too, but somehow I didn't get any photos of them.  Perhaps I would have if they still listened to my mom's heartbeat with this face.

This was, of course, during the "Time to play with stethoscopes and blood pressure cuffs" portion of the gathering.  It takes me forever to hear that initial heartbeat when taking a blood pressure reading, so maybe don't ask me to help you out.  Don't all families do this?

We also did the obligatory "Everyone pile on top of Grandma and Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa photo!" and I know all families do this, so I'm confident everyone can appreciate that we got 90%ish of the participants to smile.  Note which person's offspring was not even bothering with a fake smile (Small hint:  MINE).

 Still, it's better than the family Christmas gathering from a few years back when the Atticus stood wherever we positioned him within the group shot but presented his back for every single photo.  I couldn't even argue with him about it, as we were a good three hours into the party and my own shelf life for those kind of social occasions is two hours, max.  We have since learned that if you want a group photo involving children, you do it as soon as possible, not right at the end when everyone's tired and the masks are slipping.

Adelaide spent a good deal of the family day doing this sort of thing:

"Don't fall don't fall don't fall."

But then realized Vada's made of sterner stuff than that.

We also made sure to cuddle babies, because as I once saw on an inspirational poster, "Play to your strengths."

It's possible that "baby" is half my size.  That doesn't make her any less cuddly.

Speaking of inspirational posters, these are my favorite kind:

Turns out inspirational quotes aren't really my thing.  But I LOVE what turns up when people edit those moody, emo, hipster images!