Gates Galore

I do not love baby gates. I mean, I love that they allow me to take a shower with the kids safely contained in their play room and keep the baby from falling down the stairs, but they are not pretty. And they rarely fit at the bottom of the stairs. And the good ones are $60 each and they still break quickly. Only two of my gates survived the move-plastic parts broke and I had to salvage parts from two gates to rebuild the gate at the top of the stairs. Boo. I decided to build something a bit more fun (and stylish and cheap) for the first floor gates.

Supermom.

I'm not gonna brag or anything, but I'm pretty freakin' awesome at this Mom gig. I mean, I turned an old t-shirt into a superhero cape and mask in no time flat. Who does that? Supermom. That's who.

The fundamental flaw in my parenting style.

Playing with butter

"You LET him do WHAT?"

The thing that people question the most about my parenting is The Mess. It is always about the mess. Not the experience, not the fun, not the learning, the mess. As if one should care about the mess. As if the mess is the most awful thing one could imagine.

If I had a quarter for every incredulous question, raised eyebrow, or disapproving look I would be a rich woman rocking a designer diaper bag.

Unexpected Grace

This Easter was our first Holiday post-diagnosis, and I was really nervous that it would put a focus on the fact that Kiddo is different. At the risk of repeating myself, it did occur to me that being the Easter Bunny, while allergic to eggs, to a kid who can't eat sugar or starch, was pretty hard! I probably should not have dyed the eggs (but I did, while breast feeding), and I really should not have made meringue cookies (but I did, between breastfeeding and bed time) and that didn't go too well.

Quick fix: Easy carpet deodorizer plus toddler entertainment

I am stuck on the couch with round ligament pain, the wind chill is too low for outdoor play, and the Personal Assistant want to "make foot prints like a robot." Oh what is a Mommy to do? Deodorize the carpet!

Zen Entertaining and the art of faucet repair.

I hosted my first Christmas this year for my family, because my brother just wanted everyone together, and I am too pregnant to travel comfortably. It was going to be great. Perfect. Beautiful. The menu was set, much was preped ahead of time so I could relax instead of cooking, the decorations were beautiful, the house was clean, so what if the paint wasn't all touched up, and the closets completely cleaned out, faucet was a little loose, it's an old house. I could get to all of that later.

Picky Eater = Neurotic Mother

I was SUCH an excellent parent, before I had my son.  Back then MY child was (of course) never going to use a pacifier or watch television.  MY child was going to be polite and get along well with others.  MY child was not going to be a picky eater.

I was a totally rad parent, you know, before I was a real one.

Road Trip Baby!

During the summer I hear a lot about vacations from other families. Things like, "I am really looking forward to our trip to the beach, but it is four hours in the car with the kids, ugh." I just giggle to myself. We take a 12 hour car trip with the Personal Assistant twice a year to visit family, and believe it or not, it's mostly enjoyable.

Hush-a-bye Burdie Croon

My four year old is boisterous, opinionated, busy and demanding.  He is creative, curious, shy of strangers but desires to be a leader.   He has no time for cuddles for anyone. 

Why I Love Thomas.

I used to hate Thomas the Train. I mean really, that song. Ugh. But now I really have grown to love that little blue engine and his friends. Why? Because I can use him to manipulate my kid.

• It is the one show I can put on for my kid and leave the room to shower or clean and know that no one's Mother will be killed so that they can grow up/have an adventure. (Seriously, why do all the Moms bite it in the first ten minutes of a kid's movie?)
• They appreciate nature (on really beautiful days my Personal Assistant will exclaim "Oh! What a beautiful day on the Island of Sodor!")
• When they screw up, they always own up to it. (Now when my Personal Assistant spills or breaks something, he always comes running to tell me. Very Useful.)
• They celebrate "special days" by being on their best behavior. And by "special" I mean totally ordinary.
• They are obsessed. OBSESSED with being helpful. I can and do use this to my advantage.

Life without Internet

Currently I am writing to you from the parking lot of a cute pub in my neighborhood across from a lovely harbor.  You'll have to picture it because I have no photos...

The children are jumping into the water from the dock, and the laughter rides the ripples of water to the shore.  There is a line at the ice cream stand and children with sticky smiles of chocolate.  Someone seriously just ordered Gummi Bears on their ice cream sundae just because she can.

But I'm not here for pleasure...the internet provider who shall remain nameless has bumped us again...that will make two weeks with limited contact with the outside world.  At first I was FURIOUS!  But now....

...how does your garden grow?

Welcome to part 2 of my mid-summer garden update. You are thrilled I am sure. Whatever, I am doing it anyway.

The play area looks really different. The daisies have filled in, the grasses are growing but short, (I may replace them with something taller in the fall) and the grass has filled in except for all the places we killed it by leaving toys out. (The shade on the sand box is fine, it just rained and I forgot to straighten it before taking this picture.) The climbing wall has become a place for building forts. Adorable, yet not pretty. Good thing this area is more about fun than pretty.

Mary, Mary quite contrary...

Can you believe it is mid-summer already? Holy cow. Summer must be the fastest season. Really, July always seems to catch me off guard. I thought it would be a good time to take stock of what's happening in the garden. The spring garden is, of course, well past it's peak, and there is something eating the columbine. But...

5 Things I Learned While my Husband Was Away

Recently my husband went out of town on business for 10 days.  For me this translates as, "OH MY GOD NO, 10 WHOLE DAYS!"

For several of  my friends who are single parents, or friends whose partners travel a great deal, this was a very amusing tantrum.

Wah.

Rags to rugs pt. 2: Hookers.

I have become a reluctant hooker. It's true.

Although I have tried knitting and crochet in the past, I can't say I like them. They are repetitive and tedious hobbies. I made some afghans in college, and they took forever and I did not enjoy making them. Also, there is the whole yarn can be really expensive thing.

Dispite my misgivings, I bought an extra large hook, and tried the crochet method for making rag rugs. And I have to say, they came out kinda great.

Rags to rugs.

I make a lot of scraps. A lot. I also have waaaay too much fabric in my once neatly organized craft closet. I needed a way to use them up, so I decided to try my hand at making some simple woven rag rugs.

Solar powered pondless water feature

I have wanted a water feature in the garden for a long time. This year I finally found a solar powered fountain pump that looked like it was worth trying. I had the perfect pot, but I needed the fountain to be kid safe, so I made it pondless. Here's how I did it...

Gardening in dry shade.

I have a confession to make. I am, by trade, a Landscape Architect. When people discover this, I get a lot of questions. And that's cool. No really, I don't mind. But I can't tell you what to plant in your back yard at a cocktail party, because I am at a cocktail party and not in your back yard. I need to experience a space to know what it needs. And while I try to always maintain a professional attitude when the plant questions start, when you tell me that you can't have a garden because you have shade, or horror of horrors, dry shade, you might need to give me a minute because I am mentally rolling my eyes and picturing this:

That's my shade garden. My dry shade garden. Smashed between our cement walk and the neighbor's. Under a giant hemlock on the west end and a giant cedar on the east end (that's right, acidic dry shade). My house and porch almost completely block the southern exposure. My neighbor's side gets sun between oh, noon and 1 pm. My side gets almost no direct light. And I never water it. Isn't it lovely?

I just sleep in the house.

Yup. That about sums it up.

I wish I had been the one to come up with this graphic, or that I could track down who did, because I think we could be besties, but it was one of those bad pins on Pinterest that goes nowhere.

This time of year don't bother calling. I'm in the garden. And I'm not taking calls. Visitors, yes. Calls, no way man.

Our local "Frost Date" is anticipated around here like Christmas. By me if not by everyone else. But even before it is "safe" to be planting out tender seedlings, I find plenty to do in the garden. Like creating a natural play space for my Personal Assistant. And setting up my portable greenhouse for seed starting, and constructing a fence/tomato cages to keep the Personal Assistant from sliding down the hill and over the wall.

It actually came it pretty great and cost a fraction of a regular fence. I think it would be perfect if you need a fence around the veggie garden for keeping critters out. The blow by blow is after the jump.

Flowers for Monday

Sunday evening makes me sad. The weekend is over and a new work week filled with busy-ness is about to begin. About four years ago I started a summer Sunday evening tradition of walking through my garden, choosing a few blooms and making a nosegay for my desk on Monday. I often made a second one to share with someone at the office. I no longer leave home to work, but I still enjoy the tradition, and sometimes drop off a little bouquet for a neighbor. What is the point of growing flowers if you don't pick them?