Planting Day

Postponed long enough, it was time to take our little workforce over to Papa Dave's this weekend to plant 75 onions.




Ian demonstrates his efficiency at dropping a bulb into a hole.

Laurel peeks into the can at ALL the onions they need to plant.

Ian explains to Laurel the delicacy needed for placing soil on top of each onion bulb. Of course, Laurel's impressed.

Papa relaxes while the kiddos slave away in the hot sun.

Watering, the final step, provides an opportunity to cool down and drown the newly planted bulbs.




75 done, only 225 more to go. So, Papa Dave, when should we hire them out again?

Ever So Grateful

The beautiful woman in all of these pictures is my mother-in-law. She loves, loves, LOVES her grandchildren. Ian and Laurel both love her immensely. It is delightful to watch the three of them interact. Up until recently, the interaction has been limited due to her being on oxygen.

However, thanks to modern medical practices, she recently underwent a double lung transplant. Oxygen tanks are now a thing of the past. As her strength improves, her activities with Ian and Laurel will change. Soon, she will take them for a walk at a park, a museum or perhaps the zoo. In the not too distant future, she and Dad will join our little family up in the mountains for the Highland Games. Towards the end of summer, we're planning a trip to San Diego where she can run after Ian and especially Laurel along the beach.

I am extremely grateful that my mom had an opportunity to improve her health. She is a brave woman for undergoing such extensive surgery. Her determination is obvious as her health improves dramatically each day. I look forward to the many different activities she is going to push on the rest of us in her family. Go ahead, Mom, push away!!!

Fourteen Months

After finally folding and putting away some laundry, I decide to clean out one of my lingerie drawers. I find myself tossing out some very warn, stretched out nursing bras. As the last one falls into the trash can, emotions flood every ounce of my being and I uncontrollably sob.



Fourteen months. Fourteen months of touch. Fourteen months of me caressing delicate baby skin and hair. Fourteen months of songs and whispers meant just for her. Fourteen months of warm, soft breaths upon my bosom. Fourteen months of elegant, little fingers clutching my own stubby fingers. Fourteen months of nourishing another person. Fourteen months of grateful eyes, a look that is forever engraved in my memory. Fourteen months of cuddling. Fourteen months of bonding.

Dear, sweet baby girl, I love you. Thank you for those fourteen months.

Just Recalling...

Our little family sits down to enjoy dinner. I'm at one end of the table, Ian is next in his booster chair, Paul next, followed by Laurel in her booster. Starving for adult conversation, I'm glad to have the opportunity to discuss the day's events with Paul. As the kids busily eat their meals, Paul discusses work in some length. Out of nowhere, Ian abruptly interrupts, "Daddy, stop talking!"

I guess Ian thought the story was long enough.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm putting Ian's diaper on in our master bathroom after he tried using his potty. Paul's on the floor with us, waiting to dress Ian in his pajamas. Laurel comes toddling in and watches me smother her brother's tushy in bright white diaper ointment and sings out, "Butt paysss!"

Wanting to encourage her vocabulary development, I acknowledge her and cheer, "Everybody say, 'Butt paste'!"

Together, Ian, Paul, and I yell out, "Butt paste!"

A delighted Laurel sings out, "Assss!"


*The product shown above is where we learned the phrase 'butt paste'. It's just so much more fun to say than 'diaper rash ointment.'