Snippets

- I'm almost done with my cardiac rotation. The days cannot pass quickly enough.

-My beautiful new art cabinet now has knobs on its drawers. I'm not sure if you noticed the lack of knobs or not, but not being able to open the drawers has seriously helped keep everything organized.

- I have so many ideas for blog posts, but I've been having so much fun with, well, my life, that I haven't gotten around to posting them. But seriously, there are great posts in my blog's future.

-School is almost out. I could not be more excited! I have so many plans for this summer, I'm already making Hubster nervous.

-We went for our traditional Sunday afternoon at the library and ended up spending nearly 2 hours sitting in the "secure area," along with nearly 100 other people during a tornado warning. This was not what I had in mind for my weekend.

-We still don't have set-in-stone plans for childcare for when Hubster starts dental school. This is stressing me out.

-I've been on a dessert-cooking kick. The problem with cooking desserts, though, is that afterward, I want to eat them.

-We watched several episodes of How the Universe Works on the Science Channel with the boys. This was a huge mistake. I've had to field questions about how the world is going to end, and is a black hole going to eat us, and what will happen to us if there is a super nova. I just can't seem to provide enough reassurance that we will be fine.

-I just finished one of the worst books I've read in a long time. It's definitely time to read something else.

-The farmer market is open again!

-I've completely given up hope of catching up with my DVR. Sigh.

-I have vacation on Thursday and Friday, so this is a short week for me! (Which is just perfect, considering the celebrating I'll be doing later - more on that to come.) However, the universe seems set on keeping everything in balance, since I'm on call both Memorial Day and the following Saturday, turning what is normally a 4 day week into a 6 day week. Boo.

-Hopefully, my mind will be able to form more coherent thoughts in a few days.

Hide and Seek

A favorite spring activity is strolling through our favorite park, seeking out flowers.

It's a little bit of a contest.

Who can find the first Jack-in-the-pulpit? Who can find the most?



Who can spot the first May apple, the pale flower shyly nodding under large green leaves?




Everyone finds some, making this a game that everyone wins, and everyone loves.

And, if we're really lucky, we find something new, like the rare showy orchid, hidden at ground level.

(Sorry for the blurry picture.
We were so excited to find this flower,
we had to take a picture despite the fading evening light.)

Soon, spring will be over, and the Jack-in-the-pulpits and the May apples will be gone.


But the game won't end. There will be columbine and wild roses to hunt for in summer, and Indian pipe and jewel weed to hunt for in autumn.

Bug, Version 5.11

Dear Bug,

Summer is coming, and that means the not only will you be leaving 3rd grade behind, you will turning 9.


9! Nine!

I'm not sure what to do with that at the moment, so I'm going to ignore that until I'm forced to deal with it in four weeks.

I know that everyone says that have a child who is young-going-on-adult. I know it will be cliche to say that you are 8 going on 16, but it sure feels like it. You are logical in your approach to things. And you love to argue. Even if I tell you to please stop arguing and contradicting me, you answer with "I'm not arguing and contradicting you!" Thank you for making my point.

Your logic doesn't necessarily imply tact and sensitivity. While Monkey was playing an imagination game about monkeys jumping out of the trees onto the moon, you informed him that the moon is much too far away for anything to jump onto it, and besides, there is no oxygen on the moon, so all the monkeys are dead.

Monkey was not happy.

You informed me, while we were playing as a family on see-saw at the park, that the reason my side was heavier was because I weighed more than Dad. The reason I weighed more than Dad was because I was too busy to exercise.

I was not happy.

I'm not saying you are not sensitive. Because you are. I watch you, from out of nowhere, hug your little brother. You insist on getting hugs and kisses from everyone who is home before leaving to school. You are not (yet) embarrassed about being hugged in public. You curl up at night with your stuffed tiger, my own little (less naughty) Calvin and Hobbs.

Although, have no doubt, even if (when) you get to the age that continues to be sassy, but doesn't want to be hugged in public at all, I'm still going to try.

Love,

Mom

A place for everything...

...and everything in its place.


I can't believe how often I heard this growing up. It's something I would love to actually practice, but in reality, things get stacked on top of the desk, on the counter, on the bookshelves. It's a little embarrassing.

Truly, the worst offender has been the art supply box. At one time, it was all neatly organized. That was when there was one child's art supplies. (And it may have actually just been the first day of having the art box.) Take two children (and maybe some of my own), and any illusion of organization was just that.


Number one of my Project 52 list was to organize my closets. This included organizing the art supply area, since technically, it is stuffed into the office closet. I just didn't really know exactly what I wanted.

Until Hubster and I were wandering through Habitat for Humanity ReStore, looking for "treasure." Or as Hubster says, "cheap stuff."

That's when I found it. A red cabinet. The moment I came across it, I instantly saw all of our art supplies neatly stored away in the red and brown drawers. Not only would it be organized, it would be beautiful!

Hubster took next to no convincing.

We brought the beautiful red cabinet home, thoroughly cleaned the dust out of every crevice and corner. Then I spent a very happy afternoon organizing art supplies.

(Old baby wipe tubs - best storage for crayons and colored pencils ever!)

We went from this...

To this...

Now the cabinet stands happily in the office, encouraging the boys to come, take paints, take crayons, take pencils and papers. And just as sweetly, it encourages them to put them neatly away again.

At least that's what I hear it saying.

Joined at the Hip

This black beeping box is an unwelcome companion on a warm afternoon, keeping me thirty minutes away from the hospital at all times.


Home call sucks.

Windmills and Wooden Shoes

There are certain things that quickly become family tradition. Tulip Time in Pella is one of those things. How can something that involves windmills and wooden shoes be anything else?

Last year, despite it being cold and windy, we had so much fun, we knew we would go every year. This year, it was sunny, warm, and crowded. And perfectly delightful.



The cooler weather has lasted longer into the year, so the tulips, instead of being a little past prime like last year, were at their peak this time.


Tulip Time always feels a little surreal, because not only are the people in the parade dressed in authentic Dutch garb, but many of the observers. During the parade, we sat next to a family where the little boys were wearing the loose pants, black caps, and neck handkerchiefs of Dutch tradition.


Everywhere we walked, we heard the hollow thunk-thunk of wooden shoes.

After the parade, we wandered the clean, beautiful streets of Pella (maybe even splashing in the canal to cool off). We shared funnel cakes and Dutch letters.

Flaky pastry, almond paste, and sugar: Delicious!

We strolled past the windmills. We had planned on touring the historic village and Vermeer Mill, but with long lines and deteriorating moods in our boys, we decided the tour will wait until next year.


And the tulips...

They were just breathtaking. There was every color possible.






It was the perfect way to spend a Saturday: Full of tradition, sweets, and flowers.

I Wouldn't Change A Thing

Instead of breakfast in bed, it was an allergy pill with a sip of water before rushing to the hospital at daybreak to assist with a lung transplant.

Instead of extravagant flowers, it was red carnations and handfuls of dandelions.



Instead of a elegant Mother's Day tea, it was sodas then story time at the library.

Instead of gifts of shiny new jewelry, it was twinkling candle holders made of baby food jars.


Instead of boxes of sweets, it was sticky little boys kisses.

Instead of a fancy night on the town, it was barbecue and games in the backyard.

Instead of being typical, it was perfect.