Wednesday, September 26, 2012


Today, Corinne and I went to the park before we had to pick up Henry and Svea.  She got a blue pop.

Which makes her tongue blue.

And her teeth.

Henry woke up this morning facing Class Picture Day.  So he took the hair that stands up from the cowlick and he cut it. To the nub. So now there are spikes in the cowlick. Happy picture day.

LATER, he wanted to watch You Tube videos of self defense moves. 

While Henry is watching how to get out of a bear hug and then chop a board in half, Svea wanted her fingernails and toenails painted black...for her field trip tomorrow to hear the Alabama Symphony.

Don't judge me. Or her. I thought of you, Barbara Josenhans.

So then I'm painting this dog I bought at the thrift store. I know, don't judge me. 
Henry said it looked like a map.
So I asked, a map of what?
He said, a map of Asia to Montgomery.
So I said, should I tell Uncle Johnnie about that?
He thought and thought...and then said, NO. I wouldn't want to put that kind of pressure on Uncle Johnnie.


And so is this one. Showing her blue tongue, AGAIN:

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Spiderman and Bluebird

The Many Faces of Lucas

You know how you go and visit your best friend's new baby and you can't stop taking pictures and you realize at the end of the visit that you have 916 up-close photos of the baby's face?

That's so what I did.

Y'all, meet Lucas.

He's so awesome.

He was saying my name by the time I left.

I seriously heard it.

This is one of my favorites:

I cannot get over those eyelashes...

Lips and lashes, I tell you.

I just couldn't put him down.

Until he got sleepy...

Um, I think he's getting bored of me taking so many pictures.

Or something.

Thank you for such a great visit, Lucas!  Your Aunt Lollie already misses you!

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Talking With Henry

Mom, are you taking drugs?

No, Henry, I am not taking drugs.

Well, your pimples are really small (pointing to his eyes).

Do you mean my pupils?

Yes. They are small.

That's because it's not very bright in here.


Mom, when you laugh your elbows go up by your ears.

My elbows?

YES. Your elbows (pointing to his shoulder).

What's this, Henry? (pointing to my elbow)

OOOOHHHHH. That's your elbow.

So what's this? (pointing to my shoulder)

That's your FAT elbow.

Svea, I hear your words coming out, but my brain is thinking about something else.

Mom, Marcella has a crush on me.

Did you tell her you are too young for a girlfriend?

No. Because third grade IS old enough.

No, I don't think so.

Well, I hear you Mom, but I'm not gonna do that.

Thank you, Yoga.

When I was 32 years old, I learned how to sit still.
And that has made all the difference in parenting.

I am aware of the things I do well as a parent, but the glaring shortcomings are where my mind rests at the end of the day. More often than not, Brian and I look at each other at the end of the day and truly wonder WHAT are we doing. Besides winging it, that is.

So I'm good at moving and planning and changing diapers with one hand, but I am not good at sitting still or resting or enjoying a lingering puzzle on the floor.  I'm good at not caring what they wear, but I'm not real good at brushing their teeth.

And deciding to stay home for a little while with the kids shifted my sources of affirmation (hello, paycheck and office community) and sense of productivity (I know I kept the kids alive all day, but I have nothing to show for the last 16 hours).

So I found a yoga studio and went to learn to sit still. It took 2 years. And I still consider it a practice, not an achievement.

By being still, I am better for my kids I think. I listen more. Finishing a puzzle on the floor is not so mind-numbingly dreadful. And I have less guilt about the things I still find dreadful.

So, thank you, Yoga, for teaching me to sit still and enjoy it.  I am a better parent because of you.
Namaste, y'all.