home

I just love this shot of Dempsey watching her beloved human who is just beyond her reach.  The tree isn't so bad either.  This picture just feels like home.

bed

I have this theory that an unmade bed leads the whole day awry. Yes, I am one of those nutty people that can’t stand to see my bed a mess and if by some strange occurrence I don’t get it made all day, I will do it at bedtime before climbing in. There is nothing like the reward of crisp sheets, fluffy pillows and a squishy comforter after a long mommy-day. I have a serious love for my bed. And I love it even more when it’s made.

But, occasionally, time gets the best of me and it waits, a rumpled pile of sheets and blankets, until I find a tiny nook of time in which to get it done. Yesterday, that didn’t happen until late, at which point the calamity of my day made perfect sense. “Oh, the bed wasn’t made!” I thought. “That explains it!”

The details of yesterday’s domestic dysfunction are now vague; several tantrums occurred – the drama du jour for two of my children these days – a pant-less trip to Riley’s gymnastics for Finn, and complete destruction of our stairway carpeting by Logan and a tube of the most ridiculous fuchsia lipstick I have ever seen. Stanley Steamer is coming tomorrow.

I swear the money hemorrhage never ends.

And today is another day. Another wet, soggy, gray, thunderous day. But our bed is made and this mama is ready to face it head on.

God Bless the Cleaning Service

Just a quick note about my recent financially irresponsible de-stressor: a cleaning service. Is there anything better than this? I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I have been able to enjoy my home in a totally clean state, when I didn’t just do it myself for a party. Seriously, people live with the front of their stairs vacuumed?? I have to say, it is surely a luxury in life and although we have no business doing it, we are. For me. For now. When my health-related load lightens, I may reconsider. Or maybe I’ll fight like hell for more writing gigs to justify it. (That sounds more like it.) But for now, God bless the cleaning service. I am in love with these women!

So you live in, like Iowa, right?

We may be way out in the country.... but there are perks.

Lights at Night

My only regret about last night is that Finn was already asleep when all the magic happened. I can imagine how much he would have loved what Mike, the girls and I experienced just outside in our yard.

In 36 years, I haven’t really seen anything like it: millions and millions of lightening bugs right in our back yard. We back up to trees and brush with corn fields off to one side and it was as if billions of tiny yellow diamonds twinkled in the night right before us. I never knew that there could be so many little neon beings in one place and the girls were just as awestruck. The kids grabbed their bug box and headed out into the darkness with a couple of neighbors. They ran and twirled and jumped and climbed, in order to catch the little guys, literally screaming with excitement at every turn.

It was the essence of childhood, right in front of us. I loved every minute soaking it all in and almost couldn’t bear for it to end. In my heart of hearts, I hope that Logan and Riley remember last night for the rest of their lives. Or maybe it will be like this every summer, with those amazing little twinkles bidding us goodnight each balmy evening. What a cool way to end your day; grateful for the reminder of the tiny space you take up in this big, enchanted world we live in. Part of me believes that it may never be as truly fascinating as last night’s first discovery of the magic beyond our walls, but it will still be pretty spell-binding.

Really, you have to come and see it to believe it.

Dinner 911

I wonder if the “bewitching hour” means the same thing to every family. Is that hour between 4 and 5 pm really this crazy at other people’s homes?

If you were to zoom in on our little world right around dinner time, this is what you might see: Mike and I running around the kitchen, trying to keep Finn from breaking things as we manage the various pieces and parts of what we’ll eat, and finally, forcefully buckling him into his chair so that we can get the last few things together. Even though I don’t like to do it, I inevitably put some form of food in front of him before anyone else sits down and an imaginary clock somewhere begins ticking down the 3-5 minutes that he will sit at the table. Every night I race to get it all ready so that we have those same glorious 3-5 minutes to sit and relax and God forbid – talk, but each night I sabotage my plans and give in.

Meanwhile, for some reason I will never understand, my girls shift to hyper performance mode. They are impatiently dancing around the kitchen, bumping into us repeatedly, asking for our attention to hear the latest Hannah Montana number performed. We continually shoo them out of our way, focused on the task at hand - dinner. When I am as close as possible to having everything dished up and ready to go, I ask them to sit. They do, and we field at least 5 more change requests while trying to serve ourselves and get seated.

The second – I mean the very second – that I put the first forkful in my mouth; Finn will endure no more of this dining nonsense and wants out. He takes everything off his tray and teeters bowls and cups on the edge of the table – sometimes they stay, sometimes they fall (much to the dog’s happiness!) He then pulls his tray off and throws it to the floor. Next, he removes the back of his toddler chair and ditches that as well. The entire short while he is doing this, he is emitting his "all done" sounds. I can’t begin to imitate them, but they're not actually pleasing to the ears. And he knows how to say “all done”; he just refuses to do so at dinner time.

Throughout all this, Logan and Riley are still trying to sing and dance, right from their seats. They refuse to sit on their actual butts, barely balancing, squatted on their toes and rocking all over the place. They repeatedly drop things, bump into each other and argue about it, all because they just plain refuse to sit down. We attempt to manage this situation and teach good manners, but the same issues arrise each day. We are getting ready to remove their chairs from the table.

Mike and I ridiculously make small attempts to talk during this circus, but give up quickly and shove our food down our throats fast, knowing that one of us will have to clean up the potted plant Finn just dumped or get him away from the toilet or the latest attraction, the computer. The vegetable-milk battle begins yet again with Logan and Riley and they leave the table “too full” only to return to our sides within 30 minutes telling us how hungry they are.

Last night my mom was over and bought us Portillo’s for dinner. I didn’t want it, I’ve really been trying hard to eat healthy, but after a day of struggle-filled doctor visits with Riley (ugh – foreign body in her eye - scratched cornea), I had a raging headache and welcomed the comfort food. I was so thankful for the extra hand getting everyone settled in for their 3-5 minutes, that I devoured (with a capital “D”) my beef sandwich and fries. Nice. As my mom sat there amid this regular weeknight chaos that she hasn’t had the joy of witnessing lately, she leaned over and whispered, “Do you and Mike ever talk?”

“Nope.” I responded. Not these days!

The plan… some form of date night this weekend…. No matter what.

Out in the middle of.... somewhere special!

I can’t tell you how many people thought we were nuts packing up and moving even farther from the city and the rat race. A friend asked me today if I really like it out here and I couldn’t help but answer with a resounding “Yes!” The fact is that I wholeheartedly do.

When we contracted to build our new house, I must admit that I wasn’t 100% sure of our decision. I knew and supported all of our reasons for the change, but my heart was far from in it. Thankfully, the seven months we waited for completion of the house were just what I needed to start laying roots here in Oswego and really start to love it. From the beginning, Mike and I were hooked on coming out at least once a week to look at the empty lot, drive around the town and investigate. Our excitement grew tenfold when they dug the hole for our foundation – now we really had something to sink our teeth into! All of a sudden we were on our way out to look twice a week, sometimes packing the kids into the car at their normal bedtime because we couldn’t wait another day to check the progress. By the time our closing date came around, we really liked the house and neighborhood and were falling in love with the surrounding area as well.

It didn’t take long after moving in to start to feel like home here. Mike and I have both commented on how there is just a good feeling in our house; how it feels like it is totally meant to be. I’m thinking that’s a good sign considering we don’t have a speck of paint on the walls yet. I remember one early day sitting on the front porch after a long walk and catching the sunset for the first time. I was literally moved to tears while realizing how blessed I was to be able to see this sunset every day that I live here. I’ve seen a lot of sunsets, especially during the five years that Mike and I lived in Florida, but the sky just seems bigger here. And more colorful. And totally breathtaking.

I drove to the dentist on Saturday and made a wrong turn. I found myself cruising down a road that seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. It was filled with homes that could have been in any regular neighborhood, except they all had fields full of grazing horses. This is pretty much my idea of heaven. (I know, low expectations!) But really for me, there’s nothing better than rolling hills of cornfields and trees interspersed with horse farms. Once again, this wonderful little place called Oswego moved me to tears.

I just love it here and am so thankful that we were given the forethought to consider making our life here. I love the people, the schools, the progression and the landscape of this beautiful town. I am so blessed to be one of its residents and so grateful that our children have this wonderful place in which to root and grow. All I’ve got to figure out now is what type of fertilizer to use!