Laughter

A little bit like me. A little bit like Daddy. A little bit like Miss Mouse. A lot like herself.

We have professional family photos taken of the grownups and Miss Mouse at the lake when she wore this dress. I thought it would be fun for Baby Mouse to have some pictures in it at the lake, as well. Baby Mouse was in those pictures, too, but she was concealed by my pink shirt at that point.

She really looks like she doesn't enjoy pink, frilly dresses, doesn't she? Surprisingly, she's my little pink, frilly girl!

Why the pantry door had to remain closed this weekend.

Can you guess where she's been?

Yep! In the dog kennel!

My sweet little Miss Mouse and her Grandma working magic on her flower girl dress....and of course Barkley and Auntie Steph in the background supervising Baby Mouse.

My Miss Mouse is so much calmer than my Baby Mouse. She loves her little sister, but sometimes I don't think she understands her very well!

There is a lot of laughter around us these days. Often it has to remained contained in my head, sneaking out with just a small grin, so that Miss Mouse isn't embarrassed or doesn't ask too many questions that I am not prepared to answer at the moment. But, we do have a lot of laughter. I thought I'd share some:

Miss Mouse: "Does God live at our house?"
Me: "Yes. God is at our house. And He is at the farm, and He is at the lake, all at the same time because He is so big."
Miss Mouse: "So, does God have a car?"

On Sunday we headed out to my in-laws in the mid-morning. There's roughly a half-way point where Mr. T wanted to buy some bait for fishing, and the girls were definitely needing a break. We unloaded ourselves and invaded the gas station. Both girls were tired and squirrely, but I thought I'd take them to the bathroom at the same time to (hopefully) avoid any Baby Mouse squeals (she's in the stage where, if I'm more than three feet away, she is positive that someone is going to pinch her...I guess). Baby Mouse was fine and actually stood very nicely doing a cute jig on the floor drain. Miss Mouse did her stuff and was happily washing her hands. I took my turn, and at that moment, Miss Mouse saw that a Gerber yogurt melt had fallen from Baby Mouse's pants. I reached my hand out for it, but, alas, it was too late. Miss Mouse had snatched it up with her clean and very quick hand and popped it in her mouth. She grinned at me and said, "My hands ber clean because I washed them." Yep. So that made it sanitary to eat off the bathroom floor. Ugh. *sidenote: I do teach my children not to eat off the floor. They just don't always listen.

On that same topic, we had an all-out meltdown by Miss Mouse last week when we would not let her eat any of the broccoli fuzz that Baby Mouse had thrown down on the floor. Thirty minutes prior. Yucko. Old broccoli? From the floor? Yum. Normally my floor is really clean, so I don't worry about the occasional popping in of a random stray Cheerio. But encouraging scrounging on the floor for old, mushed up pieces of food that may or may not have been in her little sis's mouth? Not going to happen.

Baby Mouse jigs on command. Her Great Grandpa Don N. would have been so proud. I think he would have said something like, "Would you look at that? Did you see her? She's doin' a jig! That's quite a girl. She's quite a little sweety, ain't she?"

Staying now on the jigging topic.....A few weeks ago, Grammy was visiting over a Sunday. She and I took the girls to church; Miss Mouse picked the third pew from the front. No one was in front of us. This is normal for us, and it doesn't really worry me anymore at all. I'm desensitized or something, I guess. So, there we were in, basically, the front pew. I had brought Baby Mouse's milk in a cup with a straw. I also brought water for Miss Mouse, but in my hurry to make it out of the house in time for the service, I put it in a cup that happens to spill easily. No problem, I figured. It's for Miss Mouse. She'll just sip it a bit, and that'll encourage Baby Mouse to drink hers. So, Baby Mouse drinking her milk was the whole goal in the first place. Anyway, there we were in the pew, and somewhere around the middle of the first song, the "spilly cup" went rolling forward. Grammy started cussing out, er, belaboring the tilted floors. The man next to us tried to get it with his foot to no avail. I told them to leave it. The girls were coloring after that, and things were going along well. Halfway through the lessons, Miss Mouse decided to go up and rescue her cup. Fine, now the spilly cup was back with us. Fine, until the pastor started his sermon. Somewhere right after the first joke, which was actually really great timing, the spilly cup tips and spills its contents all over. The floor was soaking. Thankfully for the Mice's safety, the floor is carpeted. Baby Mouse had an instant gleam in her eye and began doing the aforementioned jig immediately. Miss Mouse was horrified and whispered in the loud whisper of a child, "Get out of my way! Get out of my way! I am trying to wipe it up!" to her sister. Baby Mouse thought that was even more fun, while poor Miss Mouse tried desperately to use an 8.5X11 inch bulletin to soak up the puddle of water. By this time, Grammy is laughing so hard that she snorted. I poked her, so she snorted again. I'm surprised the pew wasn't shaking. Oh well. At least we were in the front. :)

Excited!

I met with someone this morning who is coordinating the opening of a new boutique at a retirement community here in town. She wants to feature my products there! In the midst of helping my sister with wedding plans, I'm now going to be filling quite an order for products! Yay! She'll be selling it on consignment, so I won't get any profit up front. Hopefully, though, things will move quickly once the store opens!

A Word

What's in a word? What's in a name? Both can pack a punch.

For several weeks now, I've been looking forward to an article about Fargonecrafting in our local newspaper. It made the front page of the insert today, very exciting! But.....

it took me several hours to make it past the first sentence: "Toomey learned to crochet when pregnant with her first child". Punch in the gut, knife in the heart, use whatever metaphor you choose, I didn't read the article until my aunt called and asked if I liked it. Even then I just skimmed it. I think it's nice, complimentary and possibly good for business. I'm keeping my fingers crossed in that respect.

Unfortunately, I'm also beating myself up a fair bit. Apparently, my brain (heart?) doesn't believe the sucker punch to the gut with the first sentence was enough. I need to be berated for awhile for allowing my story to have come across that way.

When the very nice reporter visited last month, I explained that I had learned to crochet from a friend at my husband's last parish about four years ago. My first big project, beyond potholders that never really did turn out even, was a blanket for Miss Mouse. I guess she took that to mean, understandably, that I had learned the art while pregnant with her. Looking back, I wish, wish, wish I would have explained that I learned to crochet from my friend in large part because I needed something to do with my hands. Hands that weren't needed to change diapers or spoon in baby food.

Mr. T had long work nights, and I had to fill that time with something. Crocheting did the trick to keep me sane as I went through a D&C in March 2006 for a miscarriage that we had experienced in October 2005 and then as spring came and we waited for what should have been a first birthday celebration. Somehow crocheting with its repetitive counting and connection to women through the ages, many of whom shared my experiences, was comforting. Being a new student of the art, I was forced to call my friend/teacher for advice; if not for that functional need to make a call that always turned out to be a pleasant, cheering, supporting conversation, perhaps I would have crawled deep into a shell of pain and hardness.

Once we passed the first June 2 and found out about the impending arrival of Miss Mouse, crocheting continued to contribute to my sanity by giving me something on which to focus on those long, dark winter nights waiting for Mr. T to come home. My sweet kitty, Dietrich, and I would sit on the couch while I worked on Miss Mouse's white blanket. After Dietrich died in December 2006, I sat alone, remembering and working and hoping, all the while counting stitches and leaning on my friend's advice on how to "cheat" when making a blanket!

But, did I remember any of this when I was interviewed? Was I able to communicate the depth of the beginnings of this business? Sadly, no. And so, by my own fault, my own omission, I appear on the front page with Miss Mouse in the picture with Baby Mouse mentioned in the article, seeming like they are the only two who have ever existed in our lives....sometimes the absence of a name or word packs as big a punch as its presence.

Yesterday

I thought maybe some people who never have a chance to be at the cemetery would be interested in seeing how it looked yesterday.

Thirteen Years Wiser

Thirteen years ago I was seventeen. Thirteen years ago, at seventeen, I thought that the ultimate feeling of love from another person was dancing close to them, swaying back and forth with heads huddled close together. Mmm....the ultimate in romantic, no?

No, not really.

Thirteen years later, I look forward to a dance each evening with one of the four loves of my life. It struck me tonight that the "love" I had hoped to feel at seventeen being held by a dance partner could never compare to the love embodied in dancing to lullaby music with my "bigger baby" as we have dubbed Baby Mouse. Depending on the night, it can take anywhere from two to 30 minutes for her to fall asleep dancing with me. Tonight was a two minute night. Her little body, still exhausted from the trials of yesterday and tuckered out from playing outside today, relaxed almost immediately. Her soft hands relaxed on my arms, and she melted into me with her head tucked under my chin, her wispy-soft hair feeling like satin on my cheek. There is nothing like the complete trust and love of one's children. If I had only known thirteen years ago the love that I would feel now....well, it would have saved many a teenage teardrop.

Creative

or not.....This post might not be my most creative ever. I want to get some pictures up because I obviously haven't posted any in awhile, but after starting the day with a rather hellish doctors appointment for Baby Mouse, the creative juices just aren't flowing so quickly. I basically have no idea how much my 15-month-old Baby Mouse weighs or how tall she actually is nor do I know what percentiles the "estimated" figures fall into; both our nurse and doctor were fairly irritated that Baby Mouse was frightened during the whole ordeal. I guess she wasn't supposed to be. The weight that is written in her chart is 19 pounds, 6 ounces, and the height written in is 29 inches which may be accurate, but I have a hankering for Grandma to do a more thorough weight and height assessment one of these days....

Unfortunately, after thinking about the situation at the clinic this morning, I've realized the shiveringly cold atmosphere at Baby Mouse's appointment today is likely my fault. After the horrendous atmosphere at our walk-in clinic visit in March (the one where I was told I was akin to a milk cow....), I wrote a somewhat nasty letter suggesting that the nurse practitioner we saw should perhaps receive more education on breastfeeding and the value of positive relating to patients. Mr. T agrees that the cold shoulders I got consistently today were probably the result of that letter being shared (or someone asking for input about my complaint, etc.). I'm sad that that could be the case because my complaints had nothing whatsoever to do with our primary physician, but, unless there was some sort of negative event that set a bad tone at the clinic for the morning today, I'm afraid I may have to take responsibility for being such a verbose patient. Sooo.....lesson to self: no more assertive behavior. It's not worth destroying relationships that have worked well for six years. It's not like my letter probably had any effect on the educational level of the staff of the childrens' walk-in clinic on current breastfeeding best practices anyway.

Ah. In spite of today's misfortune, we continue to have a blast around here. These pictures should catch you up on some of what we've been involved in lately!

How did she go from baby swing to big girl swing with such frightening speed? The past two years were supposed to feel like, well, just that - two years....not two minutes! We have such fun at the park.

Lots of fun at home, as well.

Our May Day butterflies. Butterfly starts with "B".

Baby Mouse loves to sniff. This is her "sniffing face".

Baby Mouse also likes to help compost. She is ripping a paper bag in this photo. Miss Mouse was helping me get bread in the bread machine, but she was so proud of the bread machine bowl that she held it consistently in front of her face for the pictures. I didn't think anyone really was interested in my bread machine bowl, so I didn't post those pictures.

This is Baby Mouse's "thinking face". She furrows her eyebrows and looks very serious.

Finger painting outside. Budding artists' and Mommy's dream combination!

Baby Mouse tried to be a finger paint thief. She was caught red-handed. Hardy, har, har.

Hubert likes to drink from the girls' table. They love it, too!

He looks like he's supervising, but he's actually waiting patiently to see if he can grab some chalk for a treat when I'm not looking.

A random picture of my foot for anyone who was wondering what a foot looks like when it has run 13.1 miles in socks that were soaked at mile 1. Miss Mouse declared it looked like a "puh-ruuuuunnne!" Thank you so much to Grandma and Grandpa T. who cared for the girls so that Mr. T and I could run!! Oh, and sorry to anyone who is reading this after eating....this foot picture should maybe have come with a warning label or something.

I thought Baby Mouse would be fascinated by the animals at the zoo. Turned out she was more interested in the herbaceous life than anything.

Miss Mouse could have studied the animals all day. We had learned about camels - Camel starts with "C"; some camels have one hump while some have two; they have extra fat for energy in their humps; they are used for their hair and meat, and as an important means of transportation in deserts which are like super-huge sandboxes, etc., etc. So, in the afternoon, we headed out to the zoo to see some real camels! She was more impressed with the ducks and birds, but I'm glad she did get to see a real live camel, too.

Baby Mouse not really sure why she's supposed to be on the other side of the side walk looking at semi-hidden animals when she could be exploring the soil.

Miss Mouse thought the goats had teeny-tiny ears and were "beautiful".

Today Miss Mouse collected what she decided were "seeds". I thought it was a cool picture. She had asked me to photograph them.

She and Daddy had a picnic lunch outside after going shopping this morning. I think Baby Mouse got the raw end of the deal by far.

Our first pool day of the summer.

She was braver than Baby Mouse and I. For the most part, we only waded while Miss Mouse went in full-body.

I thought this screamed "summer! freedom!"

Baby Mouse and Hubert treed a squirrel. Again.

I took this picture because it reminded me of how cool it is to look up at tree branches. One of many things I think we forget after childhood. Thank you, Baby Mouse and Miss Mouse, for reminding me of such things.

Our garden. There are currently five sprouts, not counting the marigolds. If we get some lightning tonight, maybe we'll have more in the morning!

Happiness Is....

Another one of these posts....I just can't keep these things to myself. They're too beautiful!

*A heavy perfume of lilac in the backyard, odd in an off-year for the bushes, with the faint combined scent of pansies and a fern peony in the front yard. It is a truly calming and gorgeous way to end the day by stepping out on the front step to whiff pansies, fern peony, and perhaps a hint of crab apple tree from down the block. I'd prefer to be able to see the sunset, but I'll take these scents and be quite content, too.

*Finding that Baby Mouse loves listening to lullabies and swaying in my arms to fall asleep. It's been a long, long, long time coming to find myself some way to comfort this babe. I don't think it is possible that the sweetness of Baby Mouse falling asleep on my chest as we dance can diminish.

*Miss Mouse running "eight miles" and prancing about like a proud little hen all day. Eight miles for her last Saturday was around the block with Daddy pushing Baby Mouse in the stroller while I did indeed run eight miles. She was so excited to have run eight miles, "just like Mommy".

*Miss Mouse cheering for Baby Mouse as she [slowly] increases her milk intake. "Way to go! Gimme five!". Baby Mouse then does run right over and give her sister "five" and then sometimes also claps for herself. There's something incredibly fun about watching two little girls who neither one quite "get it" yet interacting as though they do.

I love our life.