Here we were getting adjusted to our new schedule (and doing rather well with it I might add) when what should rear its ugly head but the FLU. Neve came down with it this past week and has been pretty miserable; Emily has no voice and a bad cough so I fear she may be next. As for Oona, she took Neve’s ice cream spoon and shoved it in her mouth this morning before I could stop her, so I imagine we’ll all be pretty flu’d up by week’s end.
I am looking forward to fall getting here – though down here in the South it takes its sweet old time, unfortunately. I spent a good amount of time out in the garden today pulling out the squash vines that were past producing and the weeds so that I can do a light tilling and prepare the spot for the fall plantings – arugula, spinach and an heirloom variety lettuce. I may also try some peas again as well. Most of the other plants are about done producing, though I did spy some small watermelons – we’ll see how they fare. It was rather nice to be able to pick some of the ingredients necessary for dinner the other night:
I made a nice chili with some fresh bread. But as nice as it is getting fresh ingredients outside my door the cooler weather is beckoning me.
I took this weekend off from maid duties so I could actually relax and maybe get some knitting done. I am sad to say that this did not go over well for all parties involved. However Oona and Neve were happy with the extra snuggle time (Emily was at a sleepover) and I did get past the heel of that darn sock Ive been desperate to finish.
Still trudging along. I even watched some Ice Road Truckers on Hulu. I just wish they had more than 5 episodes. It’s been a nice experiment to just let go of the need for clean, but I don’t forsee being allowed to do it again. It was almost nice while it lasted!
The other thing I did this weekend was eat far too many cupcakes, because my little baby Oona turned 2! Which reminded me that I needed to still mention Emily’s birthday, so I will do both now.
That’s my Emily – born 10 years ago after the world’s shortest labor (My water broke at noon; at 2:45 pm she was out. And let me just tell you. Short labors mean intense pain, because it’s like having one long gigantic contraction that never lets up – I screamed. A lot).
At first she was colicky, but then she settled into an easy toddler – hood. She didn’t hit the “terrible” stage until she was 3, and even though at the time I thought it was pretty bad, I now have the experience of 2 more babies that have been far, far worse.
I was still going to school full time when Emily was a baby – she was 3 when I graduated with my BA. That was tough at times – it was hard to be away from her all day and then have to still study. She came to more than 1 class with me and even rode around on my bus routes at times when Paul was game to tag along on those late night shifts.
Emily was also my “poop – painter”. Any time she went into her crib for a nap she’d sleep nicely for awhile, then wake up, fill her diaper, and use that fragrant medium to paint the walls, her face, and the crib bars. It was a white metal crib that never came quite clean from that at all of the joins, and I refused to use it for any baby thereafter.
She was also always our little princess and had her papa wrapped firmly around her little finger. On one occasion she manipulated her way into getting half a pint of Ben & Jerry’s out of him before she startled giggling maniacally and we cut her off.
Emily is my most sensitive one – she’s a lot like me. She is creative and artistic and loves animals. She has been a huge part of the chicken experience here and has proven herself time and again to be very responsible at pet – owning. Even if she is a total slob otherwise. She was absolutely thrilled when little Oona came along:
And Oona, for her part, can’t get enough of Emily, either.
Oona as an infant was my easiest. She ate like a champ (first baby that I did not once get mastitis with!), didn’t cry much and just loved to hang out and cuddle.
These days she’s a busy little booger. Her vocabulary is expanding exponentially and each day she makes me laugh with something new she says (she still says “butthead”, much to my chagrin, and has recently added, “Oh Crap!”).
The other day she was crying because I wouldn’t give her chocolate (I know, I am so mean) and she stuffed her blubbery, snotty, wailing self into Neve’s play kitchen.
That actually made her happy.
Her Foofa doll makes her happy, too. I’ve taken to telling myself that she will also become a great knitter one day. Why else would she take such delight in grabbing at my knitting needles and yarn every time I try to use them? She just can’t wait to learn, right?
She also must really want to learn to sew, because while I was trying to finish up her birthday dress she kept coming up and stomping on the pedal. That’s always great when you’re trying to thread the needle. Trust me.
Happy 10 and 2 to my girls – stop growing up so fast!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!