It's My Pity Party

Lately, Butterfly has been having a difficult time when her opinion of what needs to happen differs from her parents' opinions of the same.

The resulting drama can be quite annoying EXCEPT that usually amidst her quite tragic tears, she will sob out, "Oh Baby Butterfly, Baby Butterfly." (using her real name, of course.)

It cracks us up every time. I don't know if she is trying to comfort herself or is just feeling sorry for herself, but it is pretty cute. It doesn't WORK, of course, but it is cute!

The Making Of A Rock Star

Butterfly in the studio recording her latest album, "The Pin-sy Spider (aka Itsy-Bitsy Spider)", the follow-up to her last best-selller, "Now I Know My A B D's".

Conversations With Butterfly

Inspired by Her Royal Excitedness and her Conversations With Judah, here is the first installment of Conversations With Butterfly. These are some of the fun moments I can remember right now. There have been SO many more.

(Keep in mind that Butterfly is not quite two. She is rather loquacious, however, which is her first discernible resemblance to her mother.)

SETTING: Several months ago while Butterfly was tasting her toes.

Daddy: Are those toes good?
Butterfly: Yes
Daddy: What do they taste like?
Butterfly: Bananas

SETTING: In the car yesterday

Daddy: Butterfly, what are you eating?
Butterfly: Dinosaur (as she nibbles on her plastic toy)
Daddy: What does it taste like?
Butterfly: Bananas
Mommy: Do you want some bunny crackers?
Butterfly: No
Daddy: What do bunny crackers taste like?
Butterfly: Rabbits

SETTING: Shopping at Target last week

Mommy: Butterfly, we are looking for some skewers. I wonder where they are.
Mommy: Here they are! We found them!
Butterfly: Good job, Mommy!

SETTING: Missing Daddy who has gone to work.

Butterfly: Daddy here?
Mommy: No, Daddy is at work.
Butterfly: See Daddy?
Mommy: No, Daddy is at work.
Butterfly: Pretend Daddy?
(A while later)
Butterfly: Daddy here?
Mommy: No, Daddy is at work. Would you like to talk to him on the phone?
Butterfly: SEE Daddy.
Mommy: Let's call him.
Butterfly: Hello Daddy! (on the phone)
Daddy: (something)
Butterfly: Daddy working hard!
Daddy: I am so proud of you. You slept all night long last night.
Butterfly: Till the sun comes out!
(more conversation)
Butterfly: Bye-bye. See ya later.

SETTING: A friend brought Butterfly some toy dishes and food. They were going through the food, and Butterfly was telling her what everything was.

Valerie: What's this? (holding an egg)
Butterfly: Egg
Valerie: What's this? (holding a banana)
Butterfly: Banana
Valerie: What's this? (holding cucumber)
Butterfly: Pee-pee!

(She'd only seen a cucumber chopped up & never whole, but she HAD seen Daddy getting dressed! She'll be so embarrassed by that answer one day....haha!)

SETTING: Butterfly is still nursing during the day, but we have begun to do it less frequently, which is new to her. She has somehow picked up some negotiating techniques!

Butterfly: Nursey night-night (she says this even when she doesn't want to go to sleep)
Mommy: Not right now. We just nursed 5 minutes ago.
Butterfly: Nurse real fast?
Mommy: We can nurse later.
Butterfly: Nurse just a minute?
Mommy: Not right now, sweetie.
Butterfly: Pretend nurse? (Her last resort!)

SETTING: Butterfly got her Ibuprofen bottle & dropper off the table and was trying to open it.

Mommy: Butterfly, you can't open that. (Meaning both that it's impossible and you shouldn't be trying.)
Butterfly: Pretend, mommy. (accompanied by a look that said - no kidding - Gosh, mom, I'm not stupid! - just like a miniature teenager!

There Is So Much Fun To Be Had

1. Turn yourself into a work of art.

2. Make some snowflakes and flowers.

3. Crash the Line Rider.

4. Send an e-mail to your future self.

5. Write a One Sentence Story.

6. Show a toddler these animals.

7. BEST OF ALL.....buy a goat.

There Is More To Sunshine

My husband wrote me another poem last week, and it encouraged me so. I hope you like, too.

An introspection--
Crowds bustle through motions
Birds chatter in hazy summer heat
We, pulled or stayed by currents
of obligation
Feel driven like toy boats sometimes
But we are more than what we do.
There is more to sunshine
than radiation

Unchalked, there rides above us
Between us, some breath, love
that pulls our puppet strings
into dance

Still Alive

So as I was saying.....

Yeah, it's been 7 months.... Why? Well, I really have no excuse at all. None, whatsoever.

But I can give you REASONS, if you want them. Here's my list:

1. We've sold one house, moved, bought another, renovated it, and moved again. I am still unpacking.
2. I have a very energetic, excited 21-month old fairy baby. (See above photo.)
3. I get very little sleep.
4. It's hard to use my computer for anything but surfing and reading e-mails. (See #2.)
5. I have had nothing to say.
6. I have had too much to say.
7. The political landscape is depressing me beyond belief.
8. My husband hasn't written me any more poetry to post. (See #1.)
9. It's hard to read literature when you are a zombie. (See #3.)
10. I don't like coffee, tea has far to little caffeine, and sodas are horrible for you.

However, Her Royal Excitedness has inspired me to get on the ball. Butterfly is doing some really fun and funny things that I must record somewhere. And eventually I need to post about what's going on in our country and the world, as ridiculous as it is. There must be things we can do, right???

For now, I leave you with a fabulous quote I see at the end of every e-mail I get from my friend, Julie M:

"Suppose, then, you content yourself for the present with doing in a faithful, quiet, persistent way all the little, homely tasks that return with each returning day, each one as unto God..." --Elizabeth Prentiss

Blah-Blah

A Conversation Between Mommy and Butterfly

Butterfly: Hand (holding up her hand)

Mommy: That’s right! That’s your hand! Can you say finger?

Butterfly: (blank look)

Mommy: Say fin-ger. Fffffffin-ger. Ffffffin-ger. Can you say it?

Butterfly: (blank look)

Mommy: Try to say it - fffffffin-ger.

Butterfly: Blah-blah! (with the perfect inflection)

Mommy: (laughing) That’s sooo funny! Are those your blah-blahs?

Butterfly: (laughs hard)

Mommy: Butterfly, where are your blah-blahs?

Butterfly: (waves her fingers and laughs)

Mommy: (laughs and laughs)

Moving Right Along

Well, we sold the non-hypo-allergenic house after only 5 days on the market. What? How could we sell the house six months after we bought it? Perhaps this little sonnet (with no rhyme-scheme; iambic pentameter was hard enough) could give some insight.

SONNET FOR A SOLD HOUSE

How could we sell thee? Let me count the ways.
I will sell thee for the heights you’re dreaded
Electricity bills were in winter.
I will sell thee for the depths the termites
Dug into your wood. I will sell thee for
The breaths of fresh air my husband can take
When we leave your character-laden walls
Behind. For the drug-dealers, our burglar,
The UPS truck’s armed Christmas robbers
Just forty yards from your charming front porch.
For the brownies baked in your oven turned
Lop-sided for your roller coaster floors.
For all these things we say goodbye and flee
To a land of quieter things to be.

Oh, if you want to see a virtual tour of it with our stuff in it and it really cleaned up, go here and click on the virtual tour. Ours is the first listing. Micah & Jessica did such a great job on the virtual tour, it made me want to buy the house. But then I read that sonnet and reconsidered...

Since we have to be out by the end of January, we are looking for another place to live. We hope to buy something, but we may run out of time and need to make other arrangements. Any creative ideas?

By the way, soon I will write a blog about our surreal Thanksgiving. Remind me if I forget.

A Little Girl-y Girl

Yesterday, Rob and I were sitting on the bed with Butterfly and we were all looking at the new clothes she got for her birthday. [It was Friday...she’s officially one!] She picked up one of her shirts, held it up to her chest, and looked in the chifforobe mirror that was near the bed. Then, she held it up to me and clearly indicated that I was to put it on her. I did, and she looked in the mirror again with a very satisfied expression. It was hilarious.

By the way, if you are not from the south (and the iWeb spellcheck evidently is not), and you do not know what a chifforobe is, it is a piece of furniture having both drawers and space for hanging clothes. It is similar to a wardrobe. Ours has a long mirror that is close to the floor, perfect for Butterfly to use.

Today, I brushed Butterfly’s hair before we were to leave the house, and as usual, she wanted the brush to add her own finishing touches. This time, she took the brush and walked into the bedroom to the chifforobe and proceeded to brush her hair while looking in the mirror. It was SO adorable. Rob got the camera really fast, so we have a little movie of it that I’ll post later.

I guess there some ways she resembles me after all. And she’s only one!

We Are Silly People

The other night Rob and I were playing around with my computer’s camera, which has all these FUN special effects. I haven’t giggled so much in a long time. Here is a mere sampling of the hilarity. Yes, Butterfly, you have silly, silly parents!

Birch

Every year, Rob has given me an anniversary poem written on that year’s symbol: the first year, it was paper - pretty traditional. The second year, it was inked onto a beautiful piece of cotton, and the third, etched leather.

The fourth year, the poetry was an adorable baby wrapped in soft linens.

This was the year for wood, so my gift Friday was painstakingly carved onto a lovely piece of birch. Here’s the poem:

Birch

We weathered a dry summer that’s for sure.
The grass yellowed, the earth began to crack
in places, and the air even felt foreign-
an invader from some remote despot
sent to take our very breath as fealty.

A thirsty tree, the birch, its roots go deep
in such times, but also out twixt others
in its stand, and sometimes you’ll see two fused
seemingly at their base, where some dry time
in treey youth conspired them to join.

Married for five amazing years, to the most interesting man alive...a blessed woman I am!

Leading Up To The Big Day

Friday is our fifth wedding anniversary. Five years is a long time...if you count the blink of an eye a long time. I just can’t believe how fast it has flown by.

Why, I know it was just a few months ago when I was so giddily riding in that carriage, wondering if the horse was going to drag me, my father & brothers, my flower girl and my ring-bearer into the ditch in a desperate attempt to escape the bagpiper summoning me to my groom. I actually tried to get out of the carriage, thinking I could just walk down the hill, across the field and down the aisle into the arms of my awaiting prince-groom. Thank heavens for the prevailing level head of my daddy, sparing me a certain un-princess-like tumble down a sizable slope, convincing me to have patience with the horse, who did overcome his fears and deliver me to the top of the aisle...eventually.

Then, immediately, it seems, there was that first anniversary of paper, at Peacock Hill Inn, exchanging gifts of hand-made art on the porch of our tiny log cabin. And then the second year again with the Peacocks, but in a different room with cotton bearing the poetry. Then the third, shortly thereafter, leather bringing the verse and the fabulous Fluevog boots in Boston. And not five minutes ago, the fourth brought a baby swaddled in soft linens, the most perfect gift of all. Now this year it’s wood...a new house, wood floors, book shelves...what else?

Here’s the poem Rob wrote on cotton for me that second year:

Softer

Soft, your skin next to me,
softer than the Egyptian cotton sheets
so smooth in their threadcount

Soft, your arm wrapped in mine,
clinging like my favorite pair of jeans,
made yet softer by time

Soft, I hear your heart beat,
softer, your heart of love for me, beating
time with mine together

Soft, our home of colors,
from pastel plates to eggplant cotton throws
gives comfort from the day

Soft, your eyes smile at me
gilded with their extravagant lashes,
a spring sunset, shining

soft through young, fresh, wet leaves,
amber through green, rimmed with soft black shadow,
telling of light and hope

Soft, your voice, speaking life
and promise, whispering secrets to me,
secrets of the future

Soft, your skin next to me,
softer still your heart beside me, beating
time with mine together

The Scent of Shampoo

If you didn’t know already, we moved to a new house last month. Except that it’s not new, but very old - built in 1926. We are renovating it, and it’s so cute and clean and cozy...in our mind’s eye.

We were prepared for the significant task of making new the old; we were told that it would cost more than we thought and would take longer than we imagined. Yes, we knew what we were getting into.

But then again...

We were not expecting the burglar who broke our window and took my computer and the camera off the couch (but handily left behind fingerprints that sent him right back to jail because taking other people’s things and trading them for illegal drugs is a parole violation. He obviously does not watch C.S.I.)

We were not planning for the monthly pest control visit (and bill) to banish the hundreds, nay, thousands of creepy spiders decorating the outside of our house like horrific haunting halloween ornaments.

We had not foreseen the need to put out two kitchen fires, dousing one with an over-zealous and obviously malfunctioning fire extinguisher which exuberantly emptied it’s entire contents in our kitchen, creating a terrific yellow chemical dust-covering in the newly arranged and cleaned room.

We did not have a system set up for chopping vegetables while simultaneously keeping tiny sugar ants off the cutting board - the ants, or as Rob describes them, ‘the construction workers of the insect world,’ who have invaded our kitchen floors, countertops, and ingeniously, the dishwasher. What are they building, I ask you, other than resignation and patience in me? (And gratefulness that at least the spiders haven’t found a way inside.)

And most surprising of all, we did not know that Rob would be allergic to the house, having asthma and terrible allergy issues for 6 weeks straight, leading up to a nasty sinus infection for the last 2 weeks of that.

But now, finally, the glorious dawn is breaking, thanks to our new fabulous (and gigantic) air purifier and the volunteer doctor at the free ($40) clinic who prescribed beautiful pricey drugs.

So to my great delight, and even more so his own, yesterday he could again smell the shampoo.

FANCY AIR PURIFIER: $795
FANCY DRUGS: $110
BEING ABLE TO SMELL THE SHAMPOO: Priceless

Happy Father's Day

O, to go through life as happy as a baby girl in her daddy's arms. Or as happy as her mommy beholding such beauty.

A cherub visited my house

...to taste the flowers.

Then she smiled at me and flew away.

Come back soon, little angel.

Where have you been?

I have visited 8% of the earth's countries! See where I've been:



And I've visited 70% of the United States. Looks like I need to make a trip out to the northwest.



You can create your own maps at World66. Thanks to Ethos for finding this site.

The pamperazzi strikes again

OK, so I've been famous for 8 months now, and let me tell you, sometimes it's exhausting. I am constantly stalked by cameras catching my every little move. I can't even eat without them snap-snap-snapping away. And forget about me having ANY privacy to practice my new songs or this new language I am learning. Everytime I utter a syllable, that camera is filming, filming, filming. Sometimes when I see it, I just stop what I'm doing and just look around thinking 'That'll teach them!' but the patience of these people...they are relentless! I wonder if I am to go through life with the glare of flashbulbs in my eyes. Sigh.

Don't get me wrong, being a celebrity has its perks, of course. I have a full-time personal assistant to do all my work for me. I also have a driver and a chef. And I get the 'spa treatment' several times a day (you know....the 'personal' kind) and I always end up smelling nice. My assistant also helps me pick out just the right outfit (she's more of a stylist in that area than I am) to accentuate my natural beauty. And then there's her partner - he's great at all things entertaining and really cheers me up when I am bored. So I guess, all in all, life is good....even for a celebrity.

Link-a-doos

Six fun links for you on a lovely Sunday evening:

1. 'O for cuteness' (said by Mark in his exaggerated Wisconsin accent). For a veritable plethora of so-adorable-you-can't-stand-it, go to Cute Overload.

2. Did you know that everyone can now see Mr. Snuffleupagus? Big Bird has finally been vindicated. (That used to really stress me out when I was little. 'He IS real!!!!' I would yell at my television.) For more info on Snuffy and his friends, visit The Sesame Street Encyclopedia.

3. Are you bored with the way you tie your shoes? To find something more exciting, go to Ian's Shoelace Site.

4. To find out everything you need to know about airline seating, consult the SeatGuru.

5. Do you want to know a secret? PostSecret is updated every Sunday with lots of them.

6. And finally, do you ever wonder what time it is? Check the Official U.S. Timeclock.

Happy Surfing!

Happy Mother's Day!

Isn't this what being a mother is all about?

Happy Mother's Day to all mommies out there. May you have lots of cuddles and lots of sleep (and lots of them together).

(Photograph from Cute Overload. You MUST visit the cuteness!)

My daddy rocks

she knows what's what