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.