Holly Jolly Christmas

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Francesca's smiles looked a little goofy in these pictures, but hey - two out of three . . .

More to come! oxoxBrittany

-isms, Random Thoughts and Jello

"Cecilia, this is how you set up the maternity scene . . . Joseph goes here, the baby goes here . . . " - Francesca at Granny's house.

"Don't forget my love!!!" -both girls whenever someone is departing (daddy leaves for work, Aunties, uncles, granny, grandpa, etc.)

"Mrs. Clause is probably very sweet and calm. I might fall in love with her. I will probably fall in love with Mrs. Clause." -Cecilia, in anticipation of Sunday's visit with Santa and maybe Mrs. Clause at Ace Hardware (who needs the mall when Santa is going to be five blocks away!)

"Daddy wishes he had an office job." -Andrew is tired of the cold weather and 12 hour days.

I've been dying to post a blog, but I usually fall into bed after the girls are in bed so that I get plenty of rest while waking up three times (only three?) during the night for Julian nursing and diaper changes. We've been having a lovely winter with tons of snow and cold days. The girls are slowly getting over a cold and are a bit more wiped out than usual, which means less time outside and more time inside and more toys for mama to pick up throughout the day. Oh well. At least they know how to entertain themselves and have fun. Yesterday, Julian took a five hour nap and I was able to get the entire house cleaned up, or so I thought, until seeing the tornado that was occurring in the girls' bedroom, including comforters stripped from the beds to form a "slide" and landing area. I sort of love picking up the toys sometimes and finding the fun situations that they create in their play. Blocks built into beds, houses, Barbies in loving embraces, Raggedy Ann and Andy sitting on the couch, eating trays and plates of "soup," scarves tied into "nests" for birds, rocks that are chicken eggs, mermaid costumes built from bolts of blue fabric over a swimming suit, etc. It kills me how they are always pretending to be everyone else: Arlo & Ona, Jackie and Hudson (with a doll as Quinlan,) Marie and Lily (with a doll for Tucker,) the neighbors, the bakery girls, Petco workers, Layne and Marion (that is one of my favorites . . . Cecilia always wants to be Layne . . . and she's always telling me stories about when she was a big boy . . . reminds me of Finn and his stories about when he was a Man.) The other day, Cecilia told, "Long, long years ago, when I was a big boy, I didn't have a mommy because my mommy died! And I walked to the store by myself, with no mommy." I guess she was a latchkey kid in her former life or something . . . and maybe also a transvestite because she also says that she was a big girl, then she was a big boy, then she was a big girl and then she was a big boy again.

Aaanyway - we've been counting down the days to Christmas and the girls finally decided on what they want from Santa. Francesca, at first wanted the same thing she got last year, which was Thomas Action Canyon (a big plastic train set which is in Granny's garage at present.) Cecilia also wanted the same thing: A big bowl of ice cream. They have both since changed their minds. Francesca now wants a goldfish. No problemo. Cecilia now wants an ice cream CONE. No problemo.

I'll be posting some great pics soon. We had a photo shoot from the same lady that did my pal Jackie's pictures and they turned out great. She came to my house, brought lighting and camera and stayed for almost two hours for only $75 - and she gave me the CD of pics. She even said that if I wanted anything photoshopped further, to let her know. Sweet!

So - let's see . . . we're REALLY missing our old friends Heather, Anna, Daniel, baby Lily and Matthew, lately. Francesca woke up crying and missing them the other night. We're hoping they'll move back here. We've just been taking it easy, baking, walking, trudging through snow, going to story time at the library (which we LOVE, LOVE, LOVE) and that's about it. Julian is sweet and easy going. The girls are starting to take more interest in him and I think Cecilia is starting to pinch him less. She's got that Kathie/Hayley gene for pinching animals, elbows and small babies, hee hee.)

The other day, I had Julian in the baby carrier, inside my parka, pulling the girls down the middle of the street in the sled and a neighbor said, "Man! I want to be them!" And I totally thought he was going to say, "I want to be you!" because even though the girls were giggling like mad, having fun, I'm pretty sure that I'm the one having the most fun. I can't remember if I posted about my friend Leah saying that in childbirth, Ina May Gaskin told her that, "Its all about the gratitude." When she told me that, I wasn't sure I got it. Since Julian's birth, I TOTALLY get it. Not only in times of birth, but in my everyday, the more gratitude I feel for everything in my life, the more love I feel in my heart and the better everything smells, looks, tastes, sounds, seems and IS. Its gratitude that keeps me from yelling, "GET YOUR BOOTS ON!" and instead makes me sing the "boots song." I'm even feeling gratitude towards my mean-*ss rooster lately . . . he hasn't been attacking and the hens are laying again. I hope this isn't too much of a horn-tooting post, but, life is good!

Let me see . . . what anti-horn-tootin' could I share . . . uh, Julian peed on me today, but that's pretty run of the mill for baby boys, I guess. I still can't believe with what force a little tiny human being can shoot pee. Its crazy. And surprising, every time. I'm excited to join the gym for Christmas. I was going to get a picture of me with the girls and Julian, but walked by a mirror and changed my mind. Good lord! Not only is my hair just horrendous, but my body is just as hilarious. I have rolls of fatty goodness that look way too much like my grandma's rolls of fatty badness (no offense to Grandma.) Its not so much that I care, because I know that as soon as I get back in my exercise groove, my body will get back to normal, its just funny to have this body that isn't my body. I feel like I'm wearing a fat suit! Its kinda fun, in a way, but ever so cumbersome. My butt feels like I accidentally sat on a couple bowls of jello and they're stuck there . . . wibbling, wobbling around back there, laughing . . . Ha! Ha! This a-way, Ha! Ha! that a-way . . .

Peace

The girls are peacefully sleeping and Julian is asleep (again!) It seems like he was asleep all day today . . . I was worried, but my dad reminded me that the girls were like that too. I think that Julian is getting such a different mama than I was only 3 years ago, when Cecilia was born. I'm more organized, patient, and happy. When Francesca was born, I was working full-time, pumping milk for her at work and seeing her only at lunchtime (when I hurriedly ate while nursing her in 50 minutes) and at night and 1/2 days on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It pretty much sucked. Not being one to harbor many regrets, but I can honestly say that is one. When Cecilia was born, I quit working so I was all of a sudden, the full-time mom of two. Andrew didn't have a job until about 2 weeks before she was born, so I'm sure my stress level was higher. I was shocked at what work it was to be home full-time with children. While working full-time, I would come home and ask Andrew, the stay-at-home dad, "What did you do all day? Why is the house such a mess?" Etc., Etc. What an *sshole, right?

Now I know - - - I remember having the living room and dining room be solid toys on the floor, where you couldn't even walk, when I 1st was at home full-time. Not that I still don't have those days, but I am better equipped to deal with them now. Julian has a busy mama, because I have two other bosses, besides him, but I feel more in control, more grown-up, I guess. I realized today, that I think that I know what's best for my children because I'm the mama and they're the children. But what I need to always remember is that I've never been a mama before, just like my children have never been children, so we're on this journey together. The massive amounts of time I spend with my children is not only a time for their growth and development, but for mine as well. I was already aware that becoming a mama had increased my capacity to love, and my ability to be patient with others. There are always lessons right in front of me, all I have to do is slow down and see them. With this in mind, we all seem to be enjoying a lot of peace lately. Their favorite bedtime lullaby right now is "Silent Night," (minus the "virgin" reference - I'm famous for tweeking songs, books on the fly, when need be.) Hoping you, too are enjoying lots of peace! I'm off - to "sleep in heavenly peace." oxoxB

Thanks

I'm trying to figure out how 2 type while holding a baby . . .

No go - passed Julian off to Andrew.

I've been thinking a lot about gratitude. I remember last September, when Leah told me that she called Ina May Gaskin to ask about birth (and having the best birth experience) and that Ina May had told her that, "Its all about the gratitude." When Leah told me that, I didn't get it. I remember thinking . . . hmmm, maybe, but for me, its all about being relaxed and hypnobirthing and staying in the moment, breathing, etc., etc. In light of Julian's birth, I realize that its true - it IS ALL ABOUT THE GRATITUDE. I have a newfound appreciation for everything, since Julian's birth. Here are a few things I'm ever so grateful for:

Regarding Julian's birth:

-Bill Dwelley-having a midwife that is experienced, quick thinking, assertive and calm was everything. Had he been anyone else, things may not have panned out the way that they did. Had I been in the hospital, I would've had an emergency c-section and Julian probably wouldn't have made it. There wouldn't have been time to get him out alive. The fact that it didn't work to try to push the cord back in and we resorted to pushing Julian out asap was his life saver.

-My supportive, loving, generous, admirable parents.

-Being able to give birth to three beautiful, healthy, lovely children in my home and holding all three in my arms, without interrferance or intervention of any kind (dispite unusual circumstances such as prolapsed cord, not breathing right away with Julian and cord wrapped around neck with Francesca.) Had I been in the hospital for 2 of 3 of my children's births, my babies would have been whisked away for lord knows what and I would have missed out on that bonding experience, when all along, they were perfectly fine.

In General:

-My three healthy, perfect, sweet, loving, fun, creative, sensitive children.

-My husband who supports us and makes it possible for us to live our carefree days. He's a great dad and loving husband.

For Thanksgiving, we usually go around and say what we're thankful for, so I had this huge speech planned out in my head, but we didn't do that this year, we just said a blessing and went for it . . . so here is what I would've said, wanted to say, but didn't:

-Thank you to my family, for being so loving and supportive and kind and generous and influential to me throughout the years. I don't think I'm always an easy person to love, but you do it and you teach me how to be a better person in doing so.

-Thanks to Andrew for working so hard so that I can stay home and be a mommy for our children. And thanks, too for the children! I love them!

-I'm thankful for my entire family, not just my immediate family, for EVERYONE. I have a lot of love for all my extended family. I wish I could see you all more, that we lived closer, but I guess we just have to enjoy the time we do have together. You should all start blogs so that I can live in your lives, too. Love you all!

Thanksgiving Prep

Julian is sleeping, the gluten-free/dairy free pie is cooking and the girls are happily playing a game with blocks and people and animals . . . "The roasted duck is in the oven . . . Mr. Bed, Mr. Bed, are you in there . . . she doesn't have a house to live in . . . she can buy one of my houses! Cecilia, I want to turn the toy store into a house. Okay, go ahead. Look at our beautiful new house!"

The sun is shining and it would be great to get out for a walk, but the girls are so enthralled in their play right now that I don't dare interrupt them . . . they said they were having too much fun to go on a walk right now, but will go on a walk after they're done playing.

I'm feeling pretty cool lately, making dinner while Julian nurses in the sling, and pulling off a decent dinner. I figured out the Moby wrap (which I can't live without now) and even Andrew likes it. The girls made a gluten/wheat/dairy-free pumpkin pie today and that was pretty fun. As for lunch . . . its mac&cheese and mac&cheez time! In the groove . . .

Julian Gains Six Ounces His 1st Week

Relief!

Sleepiness!

Dozens of diaper changes!

Happy baby!

Happy family!

Julian William Pallas Velo Dunn-Dietrich

Julian - because it suits him. It is sweet and he is saintly.

William, after my dad and our midwife.

Pallas: An owl visited our backyard the morning he was born and hooted, hooted, hooted. The owl is closely associated with the ancient greek goddess, Pallas Athene. In France, the owl is also a symbol associated with midwives, who oftentimes are nocturnal, too. I've NEVER had an owl in our backyard - we've had them at Granny's, but never here in Palisade. Definitely a sign, a good omen.

Velo: Hello? From Velocipede, bicycle, latin for "swift foot." Julian definitely came into the world with a quickness!

Welcome to the World, Sweet Julian!

The morning Julian was born, after Andrew and Granny had fallen asleep with Cecilia and Francesca, Maran had left and Bill was loading his things into his car, there was a resounding "hoo-hoo-hoo-hooooo, hoooo," outside my bedroom window. An owl had come to sing to Julian and I, hours after his birth. My first thought was that the Dine' think the owl is a very bad omen . . . but I pushed the thought out of my mind and decided that this was a good omen. Julian made it into the world and an owl had come to welcome him. Later, my auntie Kathie found some stuff about the owl being a good, strong omen, a symbol of wisdom and heroic endeavor. (Thanks KJ!) I really want to journal Julian's birth, so that I don't forget things, but the final moments of his birth were pretty hairy, so I guess its not a story for the faint at heart. I feel sick to my stomach when I think too hard about his birth . . . mostly when I think what could've been, so let's just not go there! But here's his story - as best as I can remember it:

I felt a bit odd all day Sunday. Having read that ultrasound due dates can be as much as two weeks off, and feeling like my baby wasn't big enough to be born yet, I ignored the obvious signs of early labor and went about my day. Sunday night, after the girls were fast asleep and my laundry was folded, I crawled into bed at about 10:30 and labor began. My surges started out 14 minutes apart, steadily moving closer together. I called Bill right away and told him that I definitely wanted him to come as soon as possible, as I didn't want him to miss the birth. I then phoned Maran Perry, our friend and hypnobirthing Doula. She said she had been on antibiotics and shouldn't be contagious (with walking pneumonia.) I told her I'd call her back after doing some research about it, and then called her back to say come on over, if you don't mind wearing a germ mask. She agreed, although I'm sure it wasn't fun for her to wear it all night.

We phoned my mom and she arrived first. My labor progressed much the same as Francesca's labor. I was smiling, talking, having a good time and breathing down the baby with every surge. I felt like I was holding some tension below and I'm not sure if I was trying to be quiet, trying not to wake the girls, or if I didn't want to make a mess. After 3 1/2 hours or so of relaxed labor, I was ready to go. My water broke and there was a lot of it. The baby's head presented itself and we all looked and felt the baby coming into the world. Then, something started to not feel right. The birth chair/bar, the ball, squatting, kneeling, all fours, nothing felt right. I couldn't get comfortable, so I tried getting on all fours. I felt the baby float up, and then back down again. During the next surge, the cord presented itself before his head.

Bill told me we had a cord, and he made attempts to push it back up or relieve some of the pressure on the cord. He told someone to call 911. A prolapsed cord is rare, (1/1000) he had only seen it once before in his 25 year career and that was with artificially ruptured membranes. Most midwives probably will never see it. He made another excruciating attempt to push the cord back in, and/or relieve the pressure on the cord so that the baby's oxygen supply wouldn't be cut off. It was more than I could stand so he told me I had to just push the baby out, and fast. My contractions stopped completely. Maran said that with any mammal, if confronted with fear during labor, labor will shut down, so that the mammal can escape from impending danger. I waited for a contraction, but nothing came, so I pushed. I pushed his head out, and then his body. He was completely lifeless and he was so scrawny I couldn't believe it. I held him in my arms, and Andrew and I rubbed him, talked to him, blew in his face and in moments he began to try and breathe. Bill 'bagged' him with a breather thing a few times and then when he finally began to breathe, he put him on oxygen (we were both on oxygen.) All of this happened in 10 minutes. It took five minutes to push him out, from the time the cord presented itself, and five minutes to get him going. I was calm, through and through. I think I knew that there would be some challenge, or maybe I willed it, by giving the thought of something going wrong any energy at all. The what-ifs are so scary that I can't even think about them.

My mom fell apart, when I was trying to push him out. I looked up, thinking I couldn't do it, and saw her collapsing onto the bed and suddenly I had the strength of Wonder Woman and he was out. Andrew just kept telling me I was doing great, and that I could do it. He was strong. Bill was sure, assertive, and calm. I can't imagine keeping my cool the way he did, and at the same time being so assertive. He is truly amazing. I feel so blessed in so many ways, so many things happened just perfectly to let Julian join our family.

The paramedics looked like deer in the headlights. By the time they arrived, we didn't need them, but still had to reckon with them. If you call, they have to file a report with the hospital and give their DR boss the scoop and then its his call on what to do. Genevieve walked into the room with a smile on her face and after getting up to speed, went to bat for us to NOT be transferred to the hospital. Once Julian began breathing, his apgar score was 10 and he was fine. There was no reason for us to go to the hospital, except for their morbid curiosity

(tests, tests, tests and interrupted bonding/breastfeeding, germs, too many people, they would treat us like criminals, etc.) Luckily, Genevieve had two of her four children at home, so she and Bill together talking to the St. Mary's Doc were able to convince him that we didn't need transfer (a first for this doctor, "I've never left a baby," he said.) What are the chances that this woman would be a part of the Palisade paramedics team? I am so grateful. She came by on Wednesday and said that if it had been the chief, he would have made us transfer. I saw a glimpse of the chief in the hallway and he didn't look happy, but he wasn't in charge that night, Genevieve clearly was in charge. She's fighting St. Mary's on protocol for something like this, because she wasn't happy with how things went. What balls!

Later, after Julian calmed down (he cried for an hour - it was stressful for him!) he began to nurse. He has been nursing every hour or two ever since. He's filling out, his skin isn't hanging off his hands anymore. His cord wasn't doing the job. The placenta was on the small side and the place where the cord was connected to the placenta was in a weird spot. The vessels were just clinging onto the placenta, so we think that he wasn't getting enough food in there. Which would explain why I WA S so small. Not because I wasn't eating enough, clearly I had gained sufficient weight and was eating plenty of protein, but the cord just wasn't doing the job. Poor baby! Its hard not to beat myself up and say that I should have taken it easy and maybe the placenta and cord would've been better but, shoulda, coulda, woulda . . . maybe if Julian had been bigger, I wouldn't have been able to push him out at all . . . like I said, its hard to even think about all that, so . . .

So - I have a beautiful, healthy baby boy. I am the luckiest/blessed woman alive right now. I am so grateful for EVERYTHING in my life. From the sun that shines down, to the leaves that fall, to the full moon and my family, I am so, so grateful. My midwife couldn't have been more prepared and right on. I remember at one point in my pregnancy, talking with friends that had hospital births and thinking, maybe that's something I want to do? The stigma attached to a home birth is so intense, that maybe I just want to join the club and go to the hospital, but I trusted my gut and had a home birth - I am so grateful. A prolapsed cord in the hospital means cesarean and all of that takes time, and I believe that time was of the essence in Julian's birth. Had he been in utero longer, who knows? So, for Julian and I, it was best that he was born at home. Is home birth safer? Maybe - but I think that if I learned one thing from all from his birth it is that trusting your gut is always best. So, if it is best for one woman to trust her gut and have a hospital birth, then that is what is best for her. Its not always easy to trust your instincts, but I think that in the end, it is always worth it.

Probably that owl in our backyard was also doing just that - he thought he smelled a chicken dinner, but it was just the smell of Julian's heroic endeavor. Thank you, sweet Julian for coming into our world and lighting up our lives. We love you more than words can say.

Smoked Turkey Dinner - $6!

I'm taking a quick moment from folding piles and piles of laundry to post a quick blog.

We finished our decorations - they're pretty b*tchin'. It rained on our ghost, so the black magic marker face ran a little bit and ended up looking even better. The spiders are riding bicycles full of baskets of pumpkins.

Palisade had Feast in the Streets this weekend. Our neighbor, Ron's (also known as Captain Ron the painter) band, "Simmer Down" played in the plaza and there was food, vino, Bloody Mary's, lemonade/limeade, homemade goat cheeses, the remains of the fall produce, and Turkey Dinner $6.00! In Boulder, at 14th Street Bar and Grill they sell turkey dinners for $14 but today we ate a HUGE portion of smoked turkey, stuffing, gravy and homemade cranberry salad with strawberries for six dollars? I think he could have doubled his price and still sold out. I'm a sucker for anything with gravy. mmm.

I was feeling like I might be starting to go into labor, but since I sat down for a second, I don't think so. I just needed a rest! Sheesh! I feel so good and have so much energy that its hard to slow down. Plus, I don't exactly want my home to be a trashy mess when the baby arrives . . . what would the baby think? "Oh great - this is my slobby home? Greeaaat." Right - as if it matters to the baby, right? He/She won't mind if the playroom is a mess and there's clean laundry in baskets all over the bedroom.

Andrew is totally fed up with the chickens. Although we still don't have our new closet doors up, house isn't trimmed out, there are still three boxes left to unpack, spice rack isn't painted and hung, pictures still need hung, paint needs patching, bathroom needs paint, what do I want him to work on? The chicken coop . . . Poor Andrew thought he'd married a city girl or something, but why did I marry Andrew? Because he was a farm boy, that's why! He was even in FFA (Future Farmers of America - ala Napoleon Dynamite.) I have me a real farm boy. Unfortunately, he wanted to leave the farm behind him, so he's less than thrilled with my farming enthusiasm. He even had a nightmare that he divorced me because while pregnant, I bought 40 milking goats and he knew that once the baby came, the milking would default to him and so he was like, "I work 10 and 12 hour days! I can't get up and milk goats at 4am! I hate goats! I'm leaving you!" It is true that he hates goats, too. He can't stand goat cheese and detects even the slightest hint of it if I try and sneak it into my cooking. He thinks it tastes like hair. So knowing that he hates goats so much, I would never buy 40 milking goats. Now FOUR milking goats . . . now that's another story . . . ha!

My due date is the 30th, so I feel like I should be pregnant for at least another week. I read today about how even ultrasound due dates can be as much as two weeks off, due to the fact that different women gestate (and do everything else) at different rates, right? So I like the idea that I could be pregnant for another week or so. My Doula came down with a nasty cold/walking pnemonia/sinus infection and so I'm not sure I'll call her if I do go into labor, unless she's 100% better. Which is a bummer, because I was TOTALLY looking forward to the calming presence of a hynobirthing doula.

Friday Projects

We started making some scary spider decorations today for the outside of our house. Jackie (do I sound like a stalker yet?) had all these cool decorations when we went over there this week, so we're copying . . .

We made a cool ghost out of a white sheet, a metal tomato/topiary stand strung with white lights and a magic marker face ooooooh - scary! I'll post some pictures after I get the camera situation sorted out. We also started on some spiders - we made paper mache' bodies and tomorrow we'll make the legs and paint the spiders black. We want to make scarecrows too, but there's a giant to do list staring at me, so we shall see.

Francesca has taken to taking my camera and snapping pictures. Her pictures are actually really sweet. Daddy, me, Cecilia, with our heads cut off . . . trees, flowers, sage, leaves, whatever is out her car seat window - life through a child's eye. She even took some self portraits, which are my favorite. She's been drawing pictures of herself and us a lot lately, all with HUUUGE smiles on our faces. The first one she drew of herself, she had a huge smile and her tongue sticking out and then made the face for me . . . pretty good!

Happiness is Chicken Sh*t

We're taking Music Together classes again and there's this one simple song (they're all pretty simple) that goes, "Apples and cherries . . . peaches, blueberries . . . grapes and bananas . . . dee, dee, dee, dee, dee." EVERY TIME I hear it or just sing it in my head, I get teary eyed! Why would that song bring tears to my eyes? I think its just the simple, cheeriness of the song or that I just feel so overwhelmingly happy that by the time the song hits, "peaches," it reminds me of good ol' Palisade and I break into tears! Haha! Probably pregnant hormones have something to do with, too? I like to think I'm just so happy that a happy song makes me cry.

The girls and I shoveled out the chicken coop today, which as it turns out, is a really fun thing to do together (shoveling sh*t is fun!) I start out shoveling out the yucky outside chicken run into a garbage can (to go up to Granny's compost, because mine is full.) Today, while I did this, the girls played Bakery, Cecilia was Mary and she made pies all morning. She would shovel sand out of the sandbox into buckets and cups and flower pots and put them in the oven, somewhere. Soon, all the sand was shoveled out of the sandbox, (I gave up trying to stop this from happening) and soon the girls were ready to help with the chicken coop. We kept a close eye on Tornado, who has taken to trying to attack the girls while they raked all the wood chips into a pile so that I could shovel it into another trash can, to be sprinkled into the run. Then the girls poured fresh wood chips into the coop and raked it all about. Afterwards it was lunchtime and Cecilia was starving (who wouldn't be, without eating wheat or dairy, right?) I love pretending that our tiny chicken coop is our farm and we're tending our farm animals. I wish we had more chickens, but we really don't have room for more, unless we build a bigger run. We probably eat three or four dozen eggs/week, so if had only about three or four more chickens that laid everyday, then we'd be good to go. I'm thinking we'll just hatch some and let the hens do the brooding. According to Backyard Poultry, that's the way to go. Loving the Fall - looking forward to seeing cousins and aunties and uncles next month for Thxgivin'.

On a side note - I'm addicted to the www.soulemama.com blog . . . damn, that girl has it goin' on! Its really inspiring - she knits and makes her children cool, funky clothes out of antique and recycled fabrics, homeshools them, takes beautiful photos, cans applesauce, makes me feel like a slouch . . . but on a more positive note, it really is inspiring and her outlook and gratitude is really sweet. Jackie turned me on to her blog. She's all crafty like the soulemama chick. Anyway - I'm determined to get a sewing station set up in the girls' playroom now. Their playroom is the biggest bedroom in the house and its relatively empty, so I'm hoping to make a perfect crafting spot. Francesca needs some pants, so that's my first mission. Mission impossible? I made her some pants once before, with the help of my mom. I was lost on the first instruction in the pattern, so she had to help me a lot. Practice makes perfect? Mom is addicted to the soulemama blog, too and before we left her house tonight she said she was going to start some pants for Francesca . . . we're dually inspired. Dee, dee, dee, dee, dee, dee!

Our chickens FINALLY laid an egg! Monday, we were out at the chicken coop and Cecilia said, "Sunburst, PLEASE lay us an egg!" I guess it was the please that did it. Although its more likely that the Black Star, Sippy Sippy Sophia laid the egg, because they're sex-link chickens, bred to be both easily sexed and be egg laying machines, Francesca is positive that it was laid by Sunbrust, because like Sunburst, the egg had little speckles on it, so OF COURSE it came from the Plymouth Barred Rock! Only the chickens know for sure.

Afterwards, Cecilia clapped a round of applause for Sunburst and told her, "Good job Sunburst! Good job! Thaaank you for the egg! Good girl, Sunburst!" It was so sweet

Just when I was about to give up on the chickens, they went and laid an egg!

And here we are enjoying the lovely fall weather. The 80 degree day was a bit much, but I'm not complaining! We've been enjoying more time indoors, playing family (pretending to be Marie, Lily and Tucker or Jodi, Ben and Skylar and Ava or Jessica, Grace and Avery.) Cecilia is gravitating towards being any family with a small baby and she carries our life-like baby around all day, nursing her, rocking her and wearing her. Meanwhile, Francesca is usually a sibling or wife. Cecilia tends to be mommy or daddy. It was really funny when she was Ben and Francesca was Jodi and Ben had to go to work. They hugged and kissed goodbye and Cecilia left the room for work. Moments later, she returned and exclaimed, "My work is closed!" So she took the day off to spend time cooking meals for the children with her wife, Francesca/Jodi.

I'm about nine days away from my 'due date,' or estimated birth day, as we like to call it and I wasn't feeling much different until I went down Jackie's slide today. I think I knocked the baby's head down into my pelvis. Until today, the head was just to the left of my pelvis, but not engaged. Now, I'm pretty sure the head is engaged because I can't sit comfortably in the rocking chair, with both girls on my lap at bedtime, without throwing my legs over each side of the chair in a spread eagle. Nice. I'm hoping to go all the way to October 30th, at least. I'm so tired of everyone saying how small I am, that I'm hoping for a ten pounder, like my mother-in-law. Not a 13 pounder, though, like her second child. Yowza!

Unpacking Madness

There are only three boxes left to unpack and hopefully my camera cord is in one of them (the never-ending camera problem.) Our house turned out so bitchin', bitchin' bitchin! (As John, the master shelf builder says.) I guess it was worth the three-week paint job! We're still fine tuning, but aren't we always with our homes? Trim, exterior doors, a porch (gasp!), stuff to hang on the walls, paint to touch-up, etc. Actually, I'm just now surprised at how much our punch list has shrunken! Yippee! It looks beautiful.

My BFF's Jackie and Amy threw me an awesome baby shower on Saturday at Mom's house. It was really sweet and fun. I'm so thankful to have such nice, kind, generous women in my life. I admire each and every one of them and thank my lucky stars to have them my life. The Ft. Collins crew (Kathie, Dr. Uncle Boppa Steve, Liv, Hayley, Wils) was missed, but hopefully we'll see them in November? I can't believe that I'm less than three weeks away from my due date! Awk! I swear though, that my belly is getting smaller . . . I'm going to wrestle up the tape measure tonight and re-measure because the baby DOES seem oddly small for this late in the game. I keep saying that I gain a lot at the end, but I'm 35 pounds and counting. I went to my family doctor for a second opinion and he said, "Well, you're just all baby," and couldn't believe how much weight I'd gained, "Where is it?" - - - "In my butt!" My old boss, Bart thought I was having a boy with both Francesca and Cecilia because he noted that my butt had gotten a lot bigger. If my butt was a lot bigger then, then I'm REALLY packin' now. Another sign pointing to a boy baby? Hmmmm . . .

The girls want to ride their bikes EVERYWHERE. I have to be really creative to get them to just walk, "Let's walk so that we can collect leaves and make a leaf book!" "I know! Mom! I can collect leaves and put them in my bike basket!!!" (Crap.) "But, Francesca, you ride your bike so fast, you might pass right by some really beautiful leaves . . . let's walk, and you can take THIS basket!" (Phew!) Cecilia rides her skuut bike just as fast as Francesca - well Francesca can ride faster, but Cecilia always seems to make sure she's out in front and un-passable. Francesca nearly took her arm off on a fence tonight, trying to pass before the fence began. Cecilia is into Andrew these days, which is so nice. If he gets home at a decent hour (7:00!) then he inhales some dinner and puts the girls to bed. "I want Daddy to sing me his love songs." Cecilia said tonight. "Daddy sings you love songs?" I asked. And Cecilia bursts out into song, "My Daddy looove . . . My Mommy looove . . . My Francesca love . . . my two cats loooove . . . " and then she added Granny and Boppa. Her pitch amazes me - but doesn't everything amaze us about our children? Francesca made an "atmosphere" where she keeps her special things. Her vocabulary cracks me up. Today she said, "She reluctantly picked up her chap stick and put some on," as she narrates her life. It is such a crack up.

My rooster, Tornado started humping the crap out of Sophia today. Poor thing. And he won't shut up! I didn't think I would tire of hearing his happy crow, but man - okay, okay, okay! We get it! You're getting laid and you're happy, but do you have to crow every fifteen minutes? Maybe this means that she'll start laying eggs soon. Seems like Jackie's started humping and egg laying about the same time. I keep asking anyone in my neighborhood if they hear him and they usually say no or they say yes and its cool. I guess most people are working during the day or they're not outside as much as we are? I'm totally surprised that nobody has been by to complain. Maybe I should petition to make roosters okay in town? I mean, this is a town with a train running through it, and dogs bark all day and night . . . what's the harm in a little cock-a-doodle-doo? Pardon me, while I go tell the neighbor's dog to shush . . . roosters sleep at night. Tornado will never make a peep after dark . . . roosters rule!

So - there's the literary update, as soon as I unpack the box with the camera cord in it, I'll post a photo update . . . oxoxB

Back in Our House

We moved back into our house after the painter (painstakingly) completed the three-week-indoor paint job. I can't really complain though, because sleeping outside in our camper for just about two months was delightful . . . crickets and katydids serenading us to sleep, coyotes yipping through Granny's yard every night and even an owl visiting occasionally. I miss being up there a little bit, but its always there. Mom said that when she was growing up in the country in Appleton (what was the country, but is now 24 Road/Mall area) they had a summer house, which consisted of screens and cots. Sounds like we have another project for next summer, up at Granny's. We couldn't really sleep outside here in Palisade because of the train . . . toot! Toot! I took a painting class awhile back and a train rolled through and the other ladies in the class sighed and said, "Oh, I just love the train!" And I said, "You might not like it so much at 4am. " But I digress.

The house is BITCHIN'! Of course I'm not Brittany on the spot for pics, so you'll just have to take my word for it, until I can get the camera crap together. I love it. It feels really warm and homey, as opposed to pre-remodel, where it felt apartment-y-squater-esk. New blinds, bitchin', new-fresh colorful paint, bitchin', kitchin, SUPER bitchin'. Painting the old, beat cupboards white (Steamed Milk, to be precise) was the right choice. The Quartzite countertops are awesome and easy to keep clean and the stove is the holy grail of stoves . . . the center piece of the house. Ok - enough toot! Tootin' of my own horn! We're glad to be back in beds, anyway. OH - and we now have black-out blinds in the bedrooms, which probably saved me some jail time. I was close, so close to going into the alley in the dark of night and shooting out the alley light that clicks on and off every thirty seconds all night long . . . I tried to talk Andrew into taking an ax to the power supply, but he said that would kill him, so we were thinking BB gun might do the trick. Why are there streetlights in our alley, but not on our street, anyway? Wierd.

The girls are getting excited for the new baby. Cecilia wanted a boy for months and months, but the other day, she changed to our team and is now hoping for a girl, too. Not that we won't love to have a boy . . . as my friend Karen says, we need a boy so that we're not scraping the estrogen off our walls . . . a boy would be nice to even things out. Andrew would have someone on team testosterone, too. We're only about - sheesh, two and half weeks away from baby day (give or take a couple of weeks - hopefully give!) I swear, I feel like I'm getting smaller this week. Eat more . . . eat more . . . I feel so good that its hard to believe that I'm almost at the end. Maybe I'll be a month overdue, then I will have ALL the boxes unpacked, the trim will be done, I'll have a place for new baby to sleep and Cecilia will sleep in her own bed all night long! Right?! My baby shower was really, really sweet and fun. Thanks to sweet, sweet friends and especially Jackie, Amy and my mom for organizing. The team effort was great because nobody was overtaxed (at least I hope not!) How can life be so sweet? And then to have a baby on the way? No way! I must be living under a lucky star. I'm sorry my Ft. Collins peeps couldn't be there, but hopefully I'll get to see them all soon - we miss 'em!

Tornado Still in Palisade

We've been so busy with the house remodel, that my work crew hasn't had time to put the chicken wire roof on the chicken run, so Tornado and his harem are still residing in Palisade. We slept at our house for the first night on Friday and Saturday and awoke to Tornado crowing at 6:45am, which isn't bad on a weekday, but on a Saturday morning, I'm sure there are some neighbors that don't appreciate being woken up with ten minutes of cock-a-doodle-doo. It was funny and kind of cool Saturday morning. But on Sunday morning, he crowed for half an hour.

The good news is that we're in our house and our kitchen is done. All that's left are the pulls on the cupboards and laying down the carpet (which is my job.) Its not as bad as it sounds because we bought carpet tiles (www.flor.com.) I think these are the coolest because if something gets spilled, I can pick up the tile and wash it and after a month or so, I can pick it up and sweep underneath, so its not skanky like carpet. The house looks beautiful and it looks more like a home than an apartment, like it used to. The kitchen is amazing - the stove is definitely the centerpiece . . . bitchin'! The girls are excited but I'm sure they're spent from all the upheaval. They entertained themselves all day yesterday, playing inside and out non-stop while we cleaned and unpacked. I'm so impressed with their ability to entertain themselves. I remember a co-worker telling me when I first had babies that whatever age they are, seems like the BEST age and I totally feel that way, every day. This is the best age. Next post, I'll post some pics - I'm way behind on pictures!!! oxxoB

What is it?

"What is it?" is probably THE best question that one could possibly ask a child. Even when the answer is obvious, asking "What is it?" instead of blurting out the obvious always gives me a window into our children's souls. For example: We were at the park with friends and one of the boys ran up to me with a white, round rock and said, "Here! This is for you!" Now, I could have said, "Thanks for the rock," and completely ruined the moment, but instead, I said, "Thanks you! Its beautiful! What is it?" And he answered without hesitation, "A waterhorse egg."

Just now, Francesca ran up with a toy magazine and pointed to a children's cupcake decorater kit and said, "Mom! I think that Santa could bring me this. I really think he could. I REALLY want this." She was pointing to the icing decorater, specifically. "Uh-huh. What is it?" I asked. "Its an shot injecter! And I think these go with it . . . " she said, pointing to the colorful cupcake papers. "Wow!" I answered. "For my doctor kit." ---Right, of course.

Cecilia is so full of sass and we're loving it. She just cracks us up non-stop. This morning, Francesca crawled on my lap and said, "Mom, someday I want a real pony." Cecilia, who was sitting on the couch, right behind us then echos, "Someday I want a real cow." And we all start giggling and so she goes on, "A real cow that really fits in my house." --Awesome. She even has this sassy walk that she does, kinda boppin' along like she's groovin' and swings her arms. This old, old lady from the Slice O' Life Bakery even stopped us today to say, "That one just cracks me up. She just has this groovy way about her." I didn't even think that this lady could even see very good, let alone be so perceptive about our little girl!

The Skinny

Brrrrrrr! We're still sleeping in our camper. Our painter finished Monday night (even though he told me he'd be "done on Sunday, unless he keeled over and died.") Its unfortunate for our painter that he doesn't have much method to his madness because he's such a nice guy that he could make a lot of money if he was just more organized. Oh well, I guess! The floor guys finished yesterday and I can't wait to see what it looks like! Should be totally bitchin'! I'm so excited to get back in there. Looks like I won't be giving birth in the camper! Yippee!

My midwife has been picking on me for not being "big" enough, even though I've been steadily gaining weight (30+lbs, so far.) My last prenatal appointment, I measured a little small, so my doula, Maran, suggested I keep track of my protein intake to make sure I'm getting enough protein. I was a little nervous, but after keeping track for five days, I eat well, well, well enough protein. I'm supposed to eat 75 grams per day and I eat more than 100 per day, so no worries there. I think that my midwife is picking on the skinny kid. Its the same thing I've gotten my whole life at the doctor's office.

Tornado in Palisade

Our small flock of chickens is officially 1/3 boy. Our most beautiful chicken, Tornado has finally crowed. Andrew thought he heard him make an extra loud sound, like he was warming up to crow about a week ago, but since we're not staying at our house right now, we would have no idea that he is crowing. My friend Teresa called me to let me know that she was over at our neighbor's that live pretty much directly behind us and they mentioned they heard a rooster crowing in the neighborhood (she busted up laughing because she knew exactly where it is coming from). . . they heard him while lying in bed . . . and he crowed for seven minutes straight. Yikes. So I locked them in the coop tonight and will go get them all tomorrow after breakfast so that some poor sleep deprived neighbor doesn't ring his neck! I went down to our house after Teresa called and just as I was getting out of my car, I heard him crowing. The rascal! Just when I was thinking that maybe the dog incident had damaged his vocal cords and he was never going to crow . . . cock-a-doodle-do!

Mom and dad bought a shed to make into a chicken coop and put it in the old dog kennel, but its far from safe and ready yet. The kennel is just chain link and so it needs chicken wire wrapped around and over it. But in the mean time, I'll just have to lock them in the coop at night to keep them safe from the coyotes, (who probably ate the cat last night - no joke) the raccoons, the foxes and skunks. Do bull snakes eat chickens? I hope not. SO! The girls and I have our work cut out for us tomorrow, readying Granny's chicken coop and run. I'm totally excited. We have such a small flock that I wouldn't dream of splitting them up. They're such a little unit. I am so crazy about those chickens, man. I sat and hung out with them for awhile on Saturday and I swear, their peaceful, sweet presence just soothes my soul. Maybe in the same way that some people enjoy fishing or like my dad enjoys sitting and watching the hummingbirds or his automatic sprinklers going off. For me, chickens softly clucking as they forage around my yard, pecking at bugs and grass, soothes my soul.

Painting 101

So we're in the middle of our remodel and I can't hardly stand to go see the house. The paint that is painted looks beautiful. The colors are amazing. But it stresses me out to see the mess - and everything that is half-painted. The paint situation is so bizarre. Our house is pretty small and everyone has said, "That house should take two days to paint." We're into two weeks. Now, I'm not a professional painter, but the few times that I've painted, I started with taping things off in one area - say one wall, then painting the edges first then rolling the walls. Evidently, this is not the way professional painters do it. They roller paint everything they can, in every room and then go back and do the edges . . . which means that every room in the house is 1/2 done. There isn't one wall that's completely painted. And all of our stuff is shoved into closets, tarped in the middle of rooms, piled into the garage, etc. NOT that I'm complaining - it could be a lot worse - we could be doing the painting ourselves. Or, we could be sleeping in our camper in the winter, or we could be sleeping at the house amidst the mess! And the painter is SO good natured, we can hardly be mad at the guy, he's so nice. So I have to just roll with it and not get stressed. It will get done and we will move back in . . . eventually! And when we do, it will be so awesome and beautiful!

Latest and Greatest

We're in week five of sleeping in our camper in Granny's driveway and I must say, although I'm anxious to get back into our house, it could be worse. Going to bed at night is a delight. We say goodnight to Granny and step outside into the darkness or near darkness where the crickets are chirping, katydids are clicking and coyotes are howling. I mean, we could be parked on the street outside our house, listening to the rumble and whistle of a train, so! Our painter, Ron the Painter is taking FOREVER to finish. He's been at it for nearly two weeks and our house is small! He's even painted some rooms the wrong color and had to re-paint them. I guess this is the one drawback of NOT doing it yourself, although I'm pretty sure that we could've taken just as long, doing it ourselves on the weekends and evenings, we probably wouldn't have painted anything the wrong color. Ha! The crazy thing is, he has yet to finish 1 room. Everything is half-finished. We have the A.D.D. painter or something. Oh well, he's the nicest guy, so we can hardly be mad at him. And he's so good natured, I'm positive I couldn't be as good natured, approaching week two of a tiny house paint job, re-painting rooms I'd already painted.

Its going to look great, if it ever gets done! Meanwhile, the girls and I have been relaxing up at Granny's. We're pretty under-scheduled, which is right up our alley. If the girls have to get into the car any two days in a row, they're totally hating it. If they're in the car more than half an hour they're like, "I'm TIRED of being in the car. I want to GET OUT!" Wah, wah! We began Music Together classes and they love it. They're singing non-stop, outside of class. IN class, they're like two stone-faced bumps on logs, but since they're singing outside of class and talking about how much they had fun, they're definitely soaking it in.

We had a lovely weekend in the mountains with Jackie, Hudson and Brian. It was gorgeous and cool and so nice to get away with friends. On the way home, Francesca and Andrew rode their bikes in Glenwood Canyon. He is on cloud nine riding bikes with his little girl, as is Francesca. We go down to the road almost everyday here at Granny's to ride around on the good, smooth country road. If I sound like I'm tooting my horn too much - just let me digress for a moment:
I don't know why I love blogging about bizarre-o stuff, but I guess I just enjoy laughing at life's non-so-finer moments. Maybe I think that everyone knows how adorable and great Francesca and Cecilia are, so sharing the gross stuff (peeing in the closet) seems necessary!

Right now, Francesca is enjoying a spitting phase. It is so gross. My first reaction (the wrong one) was to admonish the behavior, ala Good Families Don't by Robert Munch. "Did you just spit!? That is disgusting! I don't want to ever see you do that again. That's gross, blah, blah, blah." My latest reaction is to say, when I see her get that goofy, I'm about to do something really naughty smile on her face, as she tries to muster some spit, "Spitting is still gross, but if you have to spit, spitting outside, in the country, is where to spit, not inside, on Granny's floor. If you have to spit then spitting here is okay." Her face lights up, she is glowing, she bends half-way over and spits. She spits about five more times in the next sixty seconds. And where do I get off being so self-righteous about spitting? Me, who used to hawk loogies on my heater, from the top bunk of my bunk bed, at about age seven. I cried when I was finally busted and had to scrub the encrusted, baked on loogies off my heater, but it broke me of the habit. Maybe if I encourage the outside spitting, I won't ever see Francesca spitting on her heater from her top bunk, ala mommy.

Sisters

Cecilia lives to make Francesca laugh. Tonight at bedtime, I tried to persuade Francesca into telling the bedtime story. We've done this a few times, where everyone takes a turn telling a bedtime story but tonight, Francesca was having nothing to do with it. So while I laid inbetween the girls saying, "You could tell a story about something true?" "No - I don't know how." "You could tell about how you feel when you ride your bike?" "I don't remember." "You could tell about when you took GoGo (the neighbor's mini-horse) for a walk?" "No - I don't remember."

Suddenly, Cecilia sits up and sings us a bedtime story, "Once upon a tiiiimmme . . . . There was a mommy with a baby in her tummy . . . (She's singing this like a song, with dramatic pauses inbetween versus) . . . And she had two little girls . . . and they were in the camper . . . and one night . . . a bear came into the camper . . . (I'm looking at Francesca and our eyes bug out in suprise) . . . and the bear pooped on our bed . . . . . (Francesca busts up laughing, mission accomplished.) That's a big improvement from Cecilia's old bedtime stories of, "Once upon a time, there was a ____, and it pooped. The end."

Francesca was so much more timid and apprehensive as a two and a half year old, but Cecilia is all go. Francesca can tell her to do ANYTHING, and she does it - "Cecilia, run down the hill pushing this wagon." Cecilia runs down the hill, loses control and nose-dives after the wagon. Francesca laughs, mission accomplished. While Francesca makes me carry her bike all way down Granny's driveway to the pavement, Cecilia rides her plastic scoot trackter all the way down, like a maniac.

Rejoice!

Francesca finally took our advice and tried her bike bike instead of her skoot bike and took off like a champ. She didn't want to ride it, until her sister said, "Okay - I'LL ride it!"

She LOVES it. I can't believe how fast she can ride. Here she is out on the beautiful country road in front of Granny's, vineyards in the background, riding like the wind. She had to have some bike gloves from the Palisade bike shop and that turned out to be a wise purchase because she doesn't hurt her hands when she crashes.



At last - we ripped out the kitchen carpet! I say we, but Andrew did the ripping, of the carpet, the prying of the two layers of linoleum and wood and the scraping of the last layer of linoleum the wood floor. What began as a floor remodel has evolved into a full-scale remodel, complete with new and additional lighting, doors, sink, faucet, OVEN (gas!), microwave hood, paint, scraped ceilings, lalala! The Sheetrock guys scraped and re-textured the ceilings throughout the house in two days. It looks so clean and beautiful. This is something that would've taken us WEEKS! I'm so excited!



Meanwhile, we've been staying up at Granny Yaya's house. We're sleeping under the stars in our pop-up camper and after two weeks, it hasn't lost the fun for the girls. Our old bedtime routine of bubbly bubble bath, followed by jammies, bedtime snack, teeth brushing, candle walk, story and lights out, has been replaced by: bath outside on the lawn in the swimming pool, jammies, toothbrushin', 4-wheeler ride with Granny, and a banana in bed in the pop-up camper for bedtime snack. Grandpa bought a backseat for the 4-wheeler that's like a couch seat. Its like a throne, perfectly built for two little girls - no less safe than a car seat. We're trying to get back some semblance of sanity and routine, but its challenging because Granny's house is like being on vacation. Hopefully we'll be in our house by Labor Day weekend. I'm not too jazzed about the idea of having a baby in our pop-up camper . . .

Scientific Wonder

Here's our new baby!
We had an ultrasound last week and wow! We didn't find out the sex (although Granny was trying hard to discern what is going on down there) but what a great picture of the face! We must say, though - from just the face - looks pretty boyish! Someone commented that it looks pretty peaceful in there. I like the sound of that. A peaceful baby! Yippee! I thought that since it is probably going to be a Scorpio, like Cecilia, I would have another Spitfire, like Cecilia, but maybe there is a chance for a chillin' baby afterall! Hopefully all the Hypnobirthing visualization and relaxation practice is paying off.

Uncle Boppa Steve Drops Some Knowledge

Since a recent blog about our backyard chicken massacre and my opinion about 'violent play' has sparked some debate, my Uncle Boppa Steve, our very own Dr. Zen Masta's words reminded me of this passage:

"Man's history has been one of battles. Woman's history has been that of bearing and raising children.

"Battles do not require any of the virtues needed for child raising - such as selfless and devoted love, compassion, benevolence, affection, gentleness, and patience. On the contrary, these virtues are in the way on a battlefield. If, during a battle, love and benevolence toward the enemy rise in the heart, there won't be a battle. War requires hatred, anger, fear, cruelty, conquest, and destruction.

"Since the world's history has evolved as man's history of war, the human race is far from attaining peace. For this very reason, women have to truly awaken and then, for the first time, they can make the world peaceful. World peace depends on each women's merciful heart."

-From The Golden Key to Happiness, Masami Saionji

Dude - Masami has it going on! Each and every passage in this book is a total gem. And when I crack it open, its like she's talking to me - like, Hey Brittany . . . "Even if you succeed in running away from the circumstances given to you, the same circumstances will run after you, because your environment and circumstances do not change as long as your mind and heart do not change. The environment and circumstances given to you now constitute the world you have long depicted in your mind and heart; they represent an evolution of the world you have envisioned. People often think that other people and the society are to blame for every event that takes place around them, but that is not the case. Every event that evolves around you is made from the vibrations of your thought. If the vibrations of your thought are always wonderful and cheerful, your surroundings undoubtedly will make a world always filled with happiness and laughter. If the vibrations of your thought are gloomy and dank, the atmosphere that surrounds you will always be dark and unpleasant. The principle is not that you change when your surroundings change, but that your surroundings change when you change."

I wonder if these people, like Masami and Deepak spend hours a day, studying spiritual theory like this. Either that or they have amazing memories that retain like entire volumes of good advice for good living and being a good person. I want to be wicked wise like that. Since my memory is lacking blood function right now, due to being 6 months pregnant and packing at least an extra 25 pounds, I'll have to count on trying to just read every day and hope I improve myself and retain as much as possible. That's the thing about being a mom - you are so last on the list. I spend my reading time reading parenting books, birth and baby books, Backyard Poultry and Mothering magazine, (and okay recently I read the garbage-y Twilight series, which is basicly a Harlequin Romance novel with vampires and shorter sentences) but then I forget about something for my impoverished spirit! Such is life as a mom, today, I made sure the girls had full water bottles before we went to the garden and then pedaled half way there and realized that I was PARCHED with an empty water bottle. A day in the life.

Lately I think I've been sounding complain-y, but I really don't mean to! When I joke about my sweet, sweet kitchen carpet, our ant infestation, or the fact that I don't have a car most days, the fact that I'm pedaling around a 50 pound bike, or share the story about Andrew's tooth breaking while eating oatmeal (poor Andrew!), or tell our chicken massacre story, I think it can come off as complain-y, but I totally don't mean it to sound that way! I'm 6 months pregnant for the third time, feel great, never have a day of morning sickness or even fatigue, I am so lucky to get to spend my days with the two most adorable, sweet, funny, witty, hilarious girls I've ever known. We have SO much fun everyday. So why have I sounded complain-y lately? I don't know. Time to change, I guess!

Rainbows and Happiness

Picture of a Francesca holding her cardboard box, with holes she poked in it herself with a fork. Inside the cardboard box is a toy stuffed animal bunny rabbit, which she hauled around to dinner. She is wearing her birthday crown. Her birthday is in January. Unfortunately, the picture doesn't show the wooden high heeled clogs she's wearing that were mine when I was a girl. She loves them like I remember loving them. They clip and clop like a horse. Then she complains that her ankles hurt at night in bed. Awesome.

July 4th Weekend in Breckenridge

We never miss the opportunity for a train ride. This one was pretty slick because it was made from an old electric wheelchair, so no emissions or noise. This was in the Breckenridge town square, near the art festival.

We spent a weekend with Granny, Grandpa, Auntie Kathie, Uncle Boppa, Auntie Mira and Uncle Steve. It was fun for the girls, being the only grandkids and they were a delight to be around, even at 9:30 at night, waiting for the fireworks to begin.

Francesca saw this swing ride and wanted to try it. I was shocked that she wanted to do it, but they both loved it, once it started swinging them around. They had the biggest grins on their faces.

The Elusive Cecilia

Getting a great picture of Cecilia is a lot like photographing lightening.

This is the cow that Lyle made out of rusty junk. The girls first wanted to know if the bell really worked and were delighted to discover that it did. We rang that bell just about every time we walked by downtown. They were also delighted with the real ninnies. And yes, they got down there and milked it a few times. On this day, I tried to get a picture of them under the cow, like they wanted, but it was too hot under there.

Beautiful Flowers

While housesitting at Granny's house, Cecilia went to sleep early one night, while Andrew worked late, so Francesca and I took advantage by lounging on Granny's lawn, reading books in the hammock, feeding the birds and blowing bubbles. It was a lovely evening. The best jammies when staying at Granny's are one of Granny's old t-shirts. Or in this case, one of Grandpas.

Every time Francesca sees a new flower, she gets as excited as if she is looking at an exquisite diamond, "Oh! Mama, look! A sunflower bloomed!" She found this one blooming in Granny's driveway. It is amazing, if you stop to consider it sprouted voluntarily from birdseed. She really has a way of making us all screech to a halt and wallow in the beauty of the moment.

Grand Mesa Getaway

We escaped the hot weather on Sunday to go up on the Grand Mesa for a paddle in the Caspia. Cecilia, Granny, Francesca and I went out in the Kiwi (two person boat) for about 15 minutes but Cecilia was ready for nap time and had her fill of the boat after about 5 minutes. It was so much cooler, it was really nice. Here is Francesca with Granny, paddling the boat herself. She was grunting and groaning away.

Cecilia's naptime . . . a cot in the forest.

Mermaids are Magical

We had a tragedy on the farm on Monday. Monday is one of our Home Days and the girls were happily playing some imaginary game in the playroom, I was cleaning the house, the cats were sleeping and the chickens were roaming in the shady spots in the backyard. Francesca opened the door to go outside and ran back in, slamming the door and screaming, "The neighbor's chickens are in our backyard!!!" I ran outside to find feathers everywhere, Tornado, our rooster laying on his side, half dead with two dogs chewing on him. To my right was a dead black star chicken by the fence and another chicken seemingly dead by the garage. I was instantly sent into freak-out mode. I threw the dogs out the gate and ran around the yard to find the other chickens. Tornado jumped up, suddenly okay, but the black star was definitely dead. Sunburst was okay, but clearly seriously traumatized and Sippy Sippy Sophia was hidden on the other side of the house, frozen in fear in a corner. After herding them into the coop, the remaining three chickens went into the coop, not to come out much again. I took them to the vet and they were lucky. No major internal injuries, mostly just surface wounds, but they are totally traumatized. They are so skittish that we can barely come near them and they stay in the coop most of the time now. I'm hoping that after some rest, pain killers, antibiotics and more rest, they will eventually be okay.

Francesca and Cecilia took it better than I did, by far. They were scared while I was in freak out mode (running around the yard saying, "F*CK! SH*T! SH*T! and not knowing what to do,) but after I got a grip, they were calm and cool as cucumbers. Sometimes they forget that Sophia died and say, "Why are there only three chickens?" and sometimes when they're playing pretend, they say, "My neighbors dog killed my chicken," but other than that, they faired pretty well. I'm just glad they didn't kill all of them, or break wings or legs. Argh.

On a related topic, we had a play date the next day and the four boys were playing, "Pirates killing the bad pirates." We don't play kill games. Killing isn't nice, and is especially not nice in light of recent events, having seen our pet chicken killed for sport, in our own backyard. Our play reflects our reality, and in our reality, killing isn't nice. Eventually, the "game" made Francesca cry because she kept sweetly trying to redirect the game into something nicer, something she wanted to play, to no avail. And she was persistent, suggesting fishing games instead of swords, or Sparkly Mermaids Under the Sea which led to the pirates killing the mermaid and Francesca crying. Since I was the only mother without a son, the gist of the rhetoric was pretty much boys will be boys, and this is endlessly infuriating to me.

Because a boy child is a boy, it is necessary to foster bloodlust in them? Violence is part of mankind's history, yes, but its our job NOT to perpetuate it, unless we want our children growing up and joining the Army or something so they can kill for real! I don't know what my next baby will be, but wether its a boy or a girl, they will know the spirit of non-violence and feel the same sensitivity for killing that my girl children do. Not watching movies is probably THE reason that the girls ONLY play games about their experiences or their imagined experiences. Their experiences aren't Hollywood movies or hunting or killing 'bad guys,' because in their world, there are no bad guys and killing sucks. It sucked when our chicken was killed in our backyard, and it sucked when the mermaid was killed at the park. "You don't kill mermaids. Mermaids are magical! I know they are!"

Missing Camera

I was going to post some pictures like everyone else's blogs, but I can't find my camera. I don't know what's wrong with me and electronics, but I'm always losing or breaking my cellphone and can't find my camera or the battery is dead of I can't find the charger. My mom bought me a new camera for Mother's Day and I haven't been able to find the charger since the first day I charged it, so I can't use it and then I can't find my old camera . . . what a dork.

We went to see the Harry Potter movie last night and OMG! Two tickets to the show were $19.50! Holy smokes! The last movie we saw at the theatre was the last Harry Potter movie, so I guess we don't get out much. I've turned into some sort of Amish/Palisade woman - I never leave my farm/Palisade so when I get out in society, I'm shocked and horrified. There were people at the movie last night with 3 year olds . . . argh! This was a 153 minute movie that began at 7 and ended at 9:45. My children have NEVER sit still for that long in their lives, unless they were strapped into a car seat or sleeping. And the kids in the theatre were pretty quiet, too. Not that I was impressed, I was definitely on the shocked and horrified side.

Two weeks ago, we went into town with mom so that I could go to my midwife appointment and mom wanted to go by Sam's club. The girls were in awe. As soon as we walked in there are these huge big screen TV's and as we walk by, Francesca is like, "MOM! I'm watching TV! My brain is melting!" haha - Meanwhile, I'm thinking . . . who buys all this stuff? We are so blissfully sheltered here in Palisade.

We went to the farmer's market yesterday and bought a beautiful lavender bouquet from Paola. She is so impressive and she always looks so elegant. Anyway, the Farmer's Market is so neat. Its only one block and its all produce and locally made schwag like wooden bowls and stuff. We can get pretty much get everything we need right here now - hence, no need to leave my compound. Pictures tomorrow - I swear!

The girls spent the night up at Granny's last night for the first time. Francesca has done it before, but this was Cecilia's first time and the first time they both did at once. Mom said that as they were going to bed, they started talking about the Sandman and then Francesca started squirming around (which she does to keep herself awake) and then she says, "The Sandman is making me all itchy!" and Granny says, "That's because you're squirming all around, you have to be still and relax." So she did and fell right asleep.

Playing Catch-up and Just Playing

Omigosh! I can't believe how long its been since I've blogged. How embarrassing! Its just been a fun and busy summer. I'm about 6 months pregnant and that shouldn't be too much of a shocker to anyone that reads this. I've been breezing through pregnancy #3 just like the others and am looking forward to our third peaceful, joyous home birth. We're taking hypnobirthing classes with Maran Perry and she is totally fabulous and the class is great. We took it before when I was pregnant with Francesca, but its good to have a refresher. We can't seem to think of any good boy names, so maybe we're destined for a trifecta of girls, which we wouldn't mind one bit. A boy would be fine because he would have such sweet sisters, he would turn out peachy, too.

Speaking of peaches, the peaches are already ripe and we've been enjoying them daily. Well - Francesca and I enjoyed them today, but Cecilia has some sort of gastrointestinal illness that manifests itself as explosive, frequent diarrhea. Its very tempting for me to go into the details right here, because I have honestly not seen anything quite like it, but I'll try and spare you the gore. Luckily, she stayed hydrated and hasn't had a spell since 5pm, so I think she's on the upswing. She's so good natured that even frequent, watery, mysteriously greeny-black-yellow, stinky, squirty poo doesn't ruin her good mood. She just goes about her day singing and whooping it up with her sister. This is the greatest age (I know all ages will be) but right now, they just play and play and play all day long. Pretending to be one thing or another or another. Yesterday Francesca said, "Cecilia! Let's play Petco!" And Cecilia doesn't miss a beat and says, "Okay, I'm Cynthia, the Veterinarian. Is your kitty sick?" Its so awesome.

And its been so hot outside that when we're not at Island Acres, The Palisade Pool (which rocks this year, minus the rude, lazy, chain-smokin' lifeguards) or Granny's house, we're inside playing in the coolness.

So - our chickens are getting big and Jackie's are already laying eggs. Our rooster (Tornado) hasn't crowed or anything yet, but I've been noticing him making some different sounds. Just testing his vocal cords, I guess. Mom is going to take him when he crows and probably the rest of the flock. They bought a shed to convert into a chicken coop so as soon as our Tornado crows, he's moving to EOM.

I don't have a car anymore because Andrew blew up his Grand Marquis, so that has been interesting. I find myself holing up here in Palisade more and more. The girls and I rock the bike trailer and once a week or once every other week, Andrew rides his bike to work so I can have the car. At first we were freaking out, but now that I'm used to having no car, I don't miss it a bit. We'll buy a little beater that gets good gas mileage as soon as we get our Tax Return, but who knows when that will be. (Yes, I filed my taxes late.) We walk to the post office and Bakery. Ride bikes to FFT for grocery odds and ends and coax our friends into hanging out at Granny's house so that we don't ever have to leave the Palisade Area. Perfect!

I can't really think of any other news. I'm going to try and blog more regularly. Jackie is inspiring me (at miminkogj.blogspot.com) And damn if she's not a crafty one, too. Watch out Amy Blake! Jackie's on the scene and she does ALL the work around the house! (Love the post about Hudson saying something like that - haha!)