Just What IS the Difference Between a Tree House and a Tree Fort?

Let me enlighten you. 

Take one tree house and add:

1 swiss army knife

1 lock blade knife

1 fire starter

1 nickle

3 Harry Potter wands

1 bag Halls Defence cough drops

1 stuffed animal (triceratops)

1 homemade dragon book

2 blankets

2 pillows

1 bag Lay's tomato basil potato chips

1 dictionary

1 composition book

1 novel

1 Nike cap with brim

1 bracelet

1 pencil

Oh yeah, and two 10-year-old boys.

Now That is My Kind of Soccer Game

I can not deny that at 7:30 this morning as the heavens were emptying themselves on our valley, rain pounding in gusty sheets, I was not very excited to wake up our unconscious son and tell him we had 10 minutes to get up and get out the door for his soccer game.  Turns out he wasn't that excited about it either.  But champ that he is, he put on a good face and rolled out of bed, pulled on his cleats and ran with me to the car.  We drove through what felt like torrential rain, higher and higher into the avenues, feeling worse and worse about the hour ahead to be spent getting thoroughly cold and wet.  I guess our little soccer league doesn't call games on account of some rain.  They DO, however, call games on account of lightening. This I learned just as we arrived at the field huddled under our umbrella.  As the parents began to send their reluctant kids, unrecognizable in their slick waterproof layers, out to the field, our two teenaged and freezing cold referees pointed to the sky and shouted that they had seen a crack of lightening and that the game was off.  I cannot say that I myself saw the lightening; it is completely possible that no one but our angelic refs saw it. We don't care.  We were just glad that lightening, imaginary or otherwise, was sighted and that we did not have to face that miserable hour.

You would think that it would make me grumpy to get up, get dressed in woolen layers and galoshes, dragging my sleepy kid along with me only to be turned away at the last moment but truthfully it felt like we had been pardoned. Time to celebrate.  Luckily one of the soccer moms owns a cafe just a few blocks away from our playing field so we had a spontaneous hot cocoa party during our soccer hour.  The adults sat and chatted and laughed and sipped creamy warm things (a hazelnut steamer for me) while the kids gulped cocoa and drew on the chalk board.  And only mildly annoyed the other customers.  What looked to be a seriously rough soccer morning turned into a very pleasant outing for Stomper and me.  I'd take another rainy Saturday morning a time or two before the season ends.  That's just the kind of athlete I am.




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How to Feel Pretty While You Scrub the Floor

Here's all you have to do. Get a friend, make sure she has a sweet little daughter and make sure your friend puts her daughter into sewing classes. You'll need to wait a few months while the sweet little daughter learns some skills. Make sure to be amazed and ask to see her projects. Ooh and Aah. (Don't worry, she'll deserve every ooh and ahh you give out. The projects will be impressive.) Then after a while your friend's daughter will be looking for new things to make because she's already made so many cool things like snap-shut makeup bags and skirts for herself and her sister and holiday table runners. (By this time you'll begin thinking that taking sewing classes yourself might be a pretty good idea.) THEN, after all the effort and time you've put in, your friend's sweet little daughter might ask if you'd be interested in a hand made apron. Say yes. Then, you just may be just as lucky as I am:




I actually really like putting it on before I do the dishes, only I never use it to wipe my wet hands. I'm afraid I'll muss it. Too pretty to get dirty! Actually, it has held up well to a few washes. I find myself keeping it on long after the dishes are done. Not too many of my other clothes have ruffles. Or frills. You would never guess it was made by a 10 year old gal. Thank you, 10 year old gal. I will not divulge your name because otherwise you would soon be overwhelmed with requests for more aprons and I am sure that you are on to bigger and better things by now. Like my prom dress. Now get crackin'.

The Quilt Trio

I was totally wrong in my last post - it hasn't been a full decade since I last quilted. That was just the last time I made a grown up quilt; I totally forgot! When I was pregnant with Stomper I had an idea for a quilt for him, seeing him in my head as the perfect little denim baby. I carefully picked out some great denim fabric and mixed in some reds and plaids. I spent much of his pregnancy putting it together, done just in time for his early arrival.

When he was born it was so big and heavy I never thought he'd use it but now it makes a great throw that he still enjoys. He even took it with him on the spring break trip to cuddle up with in the back seat.

Naturally when Bitty was on the way I wanted to start a quilt for her too. Not having quite the free time I did before Stomper came along I didn't have it completely finished by the time she was born. I love her quilt too - I guess I attach colors to my babies because the moment I found out she was a girl I imagined her as my periwinkle baby. Periwinkle and apple green. Don't worry, I already know I'm weird, you don't have to say so. Anyway, she probably got her blanket around her 1st birthday.

Now my last baby is almost four. I guess I get slower with every child - if we had another one the blanket wouldn't be ready until college! So poor Bundle has been eyeing her siblings' blankets with envy. I bought the fabric (pink and brown) for her quilt...sometime in the last four years. I don't remember. Nor do I recall when I pieced the top together, but it has been a while. A long while. It has been folded and tucked at the bottom of the blanket stack for at least two years.

As Troy was getting ready to go on his trip with the kids last week it occurred to me that it might be the perfect chance for me to have some uninterrupted quilting time so when I wasn't cleaning I was often sitting, watching something fun and sewing away. Miracle of miracles, I finished it just an hour or so before the family returned! Bundle was super excited about it and even woke up in the middle of the night last night to ask for it. (The middle of the night part was less exciting for me but the fact that she wanted it even in her sleep was rewarding.)










I am noticing that Bundle's quilt is significantly smaller than her siblings'. Oh well, I will put on the list of things for her to talk to her therapist about.

What is this Strange Feeling I am Having?

I feel a little disoriented.  Get this:  the house is clean. REALLY clean.  (I know; I spent 10 hours cleaning it on Thursday.) (I bet anyone who has ever been to my house didn't know that there was enough house on which to spend 10 hours, but trust me, there is and I did.)  And now.....two days later....it is STILL CLEAN.

WEIRD!!!

Let me explain.  My sweet husband has started to notice recently a strange glaze to my eyes, a little nervous twitch developing here and there, and that my brain seems to be distancing itself from reality just a bit.  Okay, a lot these days.  He noticed that I might need a break.  And instead of sending me off to some hotel or something, he instead left me where I really wanted to be: home.  And he took our darling kids off to visit the Southern Cousins for a few days.

I don't quite know what to do!  I am so....relaxed. I think that's the word.  I miss them quite a lot, and saying goodbye to them was harder than I was expecting.  But....I'm alone. And I don't know quite what to do with myself. I have gone for long walks, eaten lunch with a friend, seen a mediocre chick flick with The Becky, quilted for the first time in literally a decade, listened to loud music, and even done some writing.  It has been a wonderful gift from my husband and you should know that he is the best.  Ever.

I do wonder, though, if it would be possible to enjoy a weekend like this totally free from guilt.  In a casual survey I conducted over the weekend every mom I talked to said definitely not.  For some reason we are not able to want something really bad, get it, and then not feel guilty about it.  So I will just go ahead and feel a little guilty but indulge anyway.

Okay, the truth is that three nights have been just wonderful enough.  And I have now discovered that if I were ever forced to live alone permanently it would take exactly 2 1/2 days for me to begin talking to myself.  As glorious as it has been to keep a house clean for several days in a row and stay up late reading brain candy books, I am ready for my arms to be around my sweet soft little family.  Sorry, Troy, I didn't mean you.  You are not soft, you are very muscled and firm.  And I also can't wait to put my arms around you.