perhaps the sippy days are done with?

I just gave Ben a sippy cup with water in it. He promptly opened it, carefully poured half of it onto the floor for the dog, drank the rest, closed it, handed it to me, and said "more!"

Ben's Words!

Go - go
ow- outside
wa - water, walk
no - no, no, NO
mo - more
ma ma - mom, sometimes dad
dur - dirt
gack - either duck or quack, but meaning the same thing
gat - cat
gog - dog
dow - put me down, put that down
coh - coat
shoo - shoe
boo!!!!- boots
eh-woh - hello, phone
baa baa - bye bye
cack - cracker
joo - juice


he knows more, but that's all I can think of right now. Yesterday he said his first 2 word sentence - "mo wa!" - more water.

a "poem"

the snow
is so pretty
falling
from the sky

and even prettier
melting
on the green grass
not sticking

I wish for World Peas

Tonight I set up my pea planters!! I have two kinds, both pole type, meaning they will climb to about 6 feet. One of them is the edible pod sort, the other not. I planted some tonight, and then will plant more in 3 weeks, then again 3 weeks after that, to extend the time we have tasty peas to eat!

I went to the local nursery to get more bamboo and planters, and got some wonderful advice! I will definitely be going back.

My first peas should be able to be harvested in about 2 months! Wish me luck.

You Know You're A Mom When...

...while chatting with a friend, you don't notice for several minutes that your toddler, who is sitting on your shoulders, has been sticking his fingers up your nostrils and digging around.

*sigh*

Monday Afternoon

I stand in my backyard, look around. In one corner, by the garden shed, there is a patch of tatty ivy around a still-dormant tree. Under the ivy leaves, not hidden well yet, as the ivy hasn’t had its spring growth spurt, are several broken cement pavers. In other places, I spot what looks like pieces of black electrical cord, and that’s what decides me. I pull on my gloves, and pick up the clippers, already grinning with the idea of cutting the ivy, clearing the space, cleaning up the wire, incongruous in the organic hodgepodge of sticks and leaves and pinecones.

I start to chop and pull at the vines, throwing them behind me to put in the yard waste bin later (next week, really, after it’s emptied. Probably should’ve waited…) I move slowly into the middle of the sprawl of leaves, getting closer to the fence with each step. Then I am at the tree, its many spindly trunks growing thinner as they grow taller, sending out multiple branches. I have no knowledge of the rules or art of pruning. I have no idea what sort of tree this even is. I pause for only a moment, then start clipping away, guided only by feeling: this branch is growing in a strange direction, this one hangs over into the neighbor’s yard (and it’s only good manners not the let that happen, right?), this one….looks wrong. I enjoy the…simplification of pruning the tree. I glare at the higher branches, irritated for a moment that I can’t reach them, then settle for simply cutting them off lower down, and then, grasping the cut end, turning around and yanking it out of the tree top an inch at a time, staggering forward as the branch pulls its way through the topmost parts of the tree.

I switch back to the ground, and pick up a piece of black electrical cord, only then realizing it isn’t cord at all, but a black stem from a leaf, long decomposed, leaving the dried stems scattered about. I look more closely at the other “cords” and discover that my quest to clean out the area of non-organic material, carried out by ruthlessly ripping out all the ivy, was based on false assumptions. I stand and think for only a minute, then continue my scourge. It was only an excuse anyway. I wish for a rake, to sweep smooth the several square feet I have de-ivied. Then I see it.

A small green shoot, visible only now that the darker more prominent green of the ivy is gone, reaches up toward the sky. Others jump out at me, and suddenly I realize the whole area I have just uncovered, recklessly stepping here and there while pulling at vines, is filled with some unidentified spring flower shoots.

Well, of course it is. That was my goal all along, you know….clear out the ivy so that the …daffodils…umm..tulips?...I mean crocuses??....can grow. Yep, that was the mission the entire time.

Around 6pm

Tonight I stand in the kitchen, sneaking a bit of reading in between checking the chicken and corn cooking on the stove. In the living room, I hear my family….my daughter sitting at the computer, silent except for the occasional, “Daddy, look! I drew a girl with glasses…” My son running around, his little feet making a slapping sound, louder than his size would suggest him capable of. He drags his toy vacuum around, then momentarily drops it to pick up the dog’s ball and ineptly throw it for her, giggling as it lands about 6 inches in front of him, then rolls away. Our dog, still a puppy in her exuberance, snatches it up, glances doubtfully at him, then carries over to my husband, who she is well aware can throw it further. He obliges, and with a “good dog!” tosses it down the hall. Tail wagging, she chases after.

I put down my book and stir the chicken, the smell of the coconut oil I am cooking it in spilling into the air around me. From the living room come the happy shrieks of a boy who’s just been swept off of his feet by his daddy, and flung into the hair. I flinch at the same time that I smile. The dog bites her ball several times, causing it to squeak maniacally. My daughter says something about what she’s drawing on the computer, and in the chaos, I hear a crash….In the silence , I call “Is everything all right out there?”

There is a pause, then my husband – “Oh yes!” I hear the smile in his voice. The chaos resumes, giggles and feet and a squeaky ball.

“Dinner’s ready!”