Counting through Four

A string of beads is looped into a necklace she fashions around her neck. In sunlight by the window she is stacking towers of burgundy pink, lime yellow, and cobalt blue blocks. She counts them slowly, drawing out vowels and adding an occasional extra w sound to each word: "W-one, tw-wo, twhree, five." Four is not in line with the others. Four is always ommited when we count together. Counting bath toys on the edge of the tub. Counting parked cars at the Botanic Garden. Counting the pairs of shoes stacked by the back door. Counting baby bunnies munching on my new planted cone flowers (followed by Miss D narrating my chasing of each bunny out of the garden). Instead the number four is on Sesame Street, clutched in the hands of Fiest who dances around with penguins, monsters, chickens, and the number four. Feist with her long wagging pony tail that I fail to master despite Miss D's demand for a pony? tail?. Feist who I spent one year analyzing while I watched her countlessly dance around the set of Sesame Street, pondering to myself and eventually with others- does she realize how fun it is to dance with a bunch of puppets? Is she enjoying herself? And this is where I have been. Sharing little moments and "doduts" with my small family of three. But here I am - hoping that this August and September we can slow down a little in this [expected] heat and dream a little more. Write a little more.

If nothing else, to give Pat something to read on his lunch break :o)

Feist Counting to Four here

Sunday Afternoon

These days are full of patch quilts spread out on the family room floor (or park grasses or community rooms in the back of churches or backseat of my car). I try to contain the toys (and sometimes the babe) to the fabric boundaries of a three by four foot spread but inevitably I defied by both blocks & chubby toes every time. This afternoon I am sitting on her alphabet quilt- stitched together in 1930 something and then again in 2013. I am also amongst the scatter of a rather extensive Eric Carle book collection with a babe who is trying to shut my computer laptop screen. Elizabeth Mitchell is playing "You are my Sunshine" in the kitchen and I am trying to find words again. Thanks to a morning heart chat with Kelly I can recognize that this is how it is now. Chaotic, unbalanced, time consuming, sleep-oriented, beautiful, soft and cuddly with flickering moments to try to find a little piece of yourself in the middle of it all. 

A little time out

Boo. No Wednesday fiction. I have been under the weather. The dishes are piled up in the sink. Wadded up tissues are on the floor (gross). Ben is making soup runs every meal. I don't have much of a voice. On the bright side, sick days have never been cuter. 

Exposure

Coming home from the hospital with a six pound newborn on a 90+ degree day. There were fresh flowers on our kitchen counter awaiting our arrival as well as a tender gesture from Pat & Kelly who snuck in the night before to tidy our living space and set up the rocking cradle. Miss D arrived three weeks early and Ben and I left our home slightly dazed at midnight that night certain that my water breaking was not my water breaking. (I had walked two miles with Melissa that morning and enjoyed a s'more around the campfire with friends all night- this was certainly not the sign of a baby on her way!) Upon our return home three days later Ben convinced me to take a nap as all I really wanted to do was hold and admire our new love. I curled up on our bed (located in the living room because the upstairs was completely gutted) and I listened to Ben carry our daughter to the kitchen where he played her Nat King Cole "Mona Lisa". Later he told me he wanted her first song exposure to be of the highest quality of talent. And I still find them- she on his lap- listening to all the beautiful music that Ben has been excited to share. 

Family Pictures from the Vortex

Photograph by Kelly

Sound check.

Photograph stolen from Priscilla :o)

 Birthday brunch with Cathy

A little floor time reading. (My favorite book so far!)

Sunday afternoon post-church brewery stop.

Miss D in her Olivia shirt. 

Adoring Dad

(Extra) Sleepy Beautiful Monday

There are a few fairly benign objects and/ or activities in the world that make me anxious. #1. Fish. I've been told there are therapies for this. My mom has investigated these therapies for me. I think I am improving. At least I can swim in the ocean. Until something rubs against my toe. #2. Talking on the phone. Perhaps because I think I sound like Mini Mouse on the phone. #3. Fruit. Again, I am conquering my own fear here as I am a recovering picky eater. I am no longer as freaked out by overly soft ripening fruit on my kitchen counter unless it leaks. #4. Cooking.

So that is why I am so surprised that "cooking" for Miss. D gives me so much joy. Making baby food brings me way too much happiness. I cannot wait to select a new fruit or veggie to steam and puree for this little seven month bundle of joy. I dreamt about it last night in fact. I am suddenly fine overpaying for a Pink Lady apple and don't even blink an eye at the register. I marvel at the amazing vibrant colors of each puree and do my own taste test before sharing it with the little one. (The Pink Lady apple sauce was delicious but my sentiments were not shared by the wee one.) We are starting out with the basics: apples, peas, sweet potato, and carrots. Ben and I are amused by the selection and variety of facial expressions that are communicated during this very special 15 minutes of the day. I am excited to start using some recipes from the babyfoode website. Imagine carrots and nutmeg or beet apple & clove. (Side note: in my dream last night I could not find the beets and could only find prunes. This dream was the best out of a series of 12 dreams given that Miss. D is slightly feverish and is up multiple times during the night). So in case you are wondering what I have been up to besides work & trying to sleep, I have been breaking in the immersion blender and enjoying every moment of spooning a little sweet potato to a mouth that sings her anticipation to the spoon every time.

Around the House

In case I ever worried that our living room was not colorful enough

or did not shelve enough written words. . .

And if I was ever concerned that there were too many hardwood surfaces

and not enough soft corners . . .

And perhaps if I ever I considered that our coat rack was way too plain. . .

And if I ever really needed an excuse to read books and nap 

beneath homemade quilts and blankets...

I think the addition of you solved everything. 

Weaving

Story time!

Maybe next time we will face the right direction. 

This week has been full of cuddles, sweet text messages, attempts to remember words to nursery songs, children's story books, a trip to grandma's house to meet more family & Minnesota natives, barbecue ribs, a virtual shopping trip with Kelly (and sightings of terrible unicorn sweatshirts and floral print tight pants), campfires and thus s'mores with Kit Kats, church small groups, showering in many different people's homes, a visit from the cousins and Aunt Rachel, and lots of episodes of Parenthood & New Girl while she feeds (thus resulting in a craving to buy a whole new wardrobe). This week felt snuggly (100% cotton fantastically paired with sleepy baby body) and occasionally milky. My brain power attempted to calculate ways to work less and stay home to cuddle more (but failed). I accomplished pumping bottles of milk, one solo trip to Target with Miss D, and one group trip to JoAnn Fabrics with Miss D, Cathy, and Avery. I feel utterly blessed with this very special time to bond with my small one. We are weaving her into our lives and she has provided so much more dimension to our world. 

Lucky Seven

Gearing up for Ben and my seven year anniversary this Saturday.

You know. 

When my hair was blonder and I was not yet out of graduate school.

 Before Ben grew his beard and took on the enormous project that is our house. 

Before we learned what it really, truly means to commit "for better or for worse". 

Before we learned the absolute beauty of the aftermath of sticking it out through "better or worse". 

I am so grateful that the rational and logical Ben chose impulsive and emotional me.

Ben and I on our honeymoon in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. 

Unfortunately we will not be celebrating our anniversary this year camping with Pat and Kelly as usual.

However, we will be celebrating with a little munchkin who is the product of our seven years. 

(Yes. I tried to make her look like a firefly using two pairs of tights.) 

(Yes. I love being home from work with this small one.)

Happy Anniversary, Ben. Love, Jenny.

Skinny Love

And so begins the laundry. 

Miss D joined us two weeks ago and I have since found myself trying to delay the passing of time. I crave super slow afternoons but only find that 4:00 comes too quickly. Hours are moving by and all I do is stare down into a sleeping bundle of glow-y baby wrapped in an assortment of warm, cuddly blankets. This is heaven and I do not want it to end. We have been blessed these two weeks with a parade of loving friends and family, nurturing nurses who help me learn how to feed my baby, a delivery of warm homemade chicken pot pies, celebration sour beers, friends who sneak in and clean our "studio apartment", encouraging texts and phone calls, and most importantly, a gracious baby who is patient as I learn to navigate this mama-hood stuff. My favorite moments are when Ben and I are stretched out on our bed (located in the living room) watching Miss D stretch and yawn. And although she has markedly gained weight since we arrived home from the hospital, she is my little skinny love.