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Showing posts from March, 2017

The Terrible Two Tango

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Parenting isn't for the birds. It isn't for the faint of heart. It isn't for anyone that doesn't like to do hard things. It isn't for me usually between 10:30 a.m. -11:30 a.m.  near daily because my two year old has some serious need to be heard during that hour.

 Three years have passed since I've had a two year old and he, (William-now five) although clingy, wasn't nearly as loud and in my face as our current two year old in residence.

Our Hannah was succeeding in breaking me down. Her terrible twos made me want to hang my mama hat. I was ready to announce, "I'm clocking out -- forever!"
 I've spent the last year giving some sage and calming advice to new mamas. I've sat with them and held long conversations on the phone or via text. I've given them all the tricks I've got up my sleeve. I've calmly accepted their compliments on my children's behavior, and I've prayed for them at night that they would be able to wa…

Reading The Winged Watchman

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We read together every day. It’s the pause with my older two that we all wait for. All day. Hannah goes down for a nap and we sit and read. We rotate science and history. We are reading a book called “The Story Book of Science by Jean-Henri Fabre. A French Uncle telling stories to his nieces and nephews. The stories open up the natural world, the electric world, and most recently, the world of the power of steam. We were looking up images of steam engines, sketching and labeling and learning as we went.

We moved to different forms of energy. We used the internet to look up different forms. Elastic, gravitational, chemical. There is so much to know. We were intently studying each type. Nuclear was next. As we looked at nuclear power plants, nuclear fission, and nuclear reactions, George Wilder noticed that among the images there were big orange warning signs with skulls and cross bones. Lots of bright warning signs. We suddenly were discussing Chernobyl. How heavy. How hard. How they j…

Grow Again

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We wolfed down waffles and went to work under a cool cloud cover. We pulled the beets and rutabaga and found some surprise potatoes. We harvest tiny brussel sprouts -- our first attempt.
We chopped in the collards that fed us all winter and left enough to keep us going until they bolt. Bolting is happening everywhere. The plants respond to the warm sun with intricate floral displays. Their taste is gone to the flower, so we bunch for bouquets.

The dark green plant matter that has fed us for the winter folds back into the black soil and we smile and watch. It will put nutrients back into the soil so this generous grid of ground will stay mineral rich as we prepare it for spring seeds and starts.

We all work. It takes all day. The food needs a home, the soil needs hoeing. It takes Hannah to help with Ocala -- even for a split second. It takes all of us to love it and care for it. We don't do it well all the time. As a matter of fact, the kids and I managed to loose our tomato star…