Happy Birthday to my little Somethin' Else

My original gosling turns three today!



Last night at dinner Grandpa got her meat all cut up and she didn't want the meat and pointed at the fat telling him she wanted that.

"You want the fat?" he asks.

"Yea. I don't like the skinny," she tells him.

If you've ever met this little person, she's got sparkle. Just look at that picture. I remember studying potential energy way back in the day--like as in a rubber band stretched and ready to fly. That's the best description of that look. She's stretched and ready to fly. She just needs the right target.

Happy Birthday little Calla! Your mama and your daddy love you!

Of dogs and puppies

We are dog people. We are not dog people in the sense that we are obsessed with dogs and have dogs that are ultra pampered and spoiled. They are taken care of and quite comfortable, but I actually had a friend tell me that I'm the ONLY person she knows who treats her dogs like dogs. Apparently I'm a dying breed.

We are dog people in the sense that we are not cat people. Nothing against cats. I'm half allergic to them and can never figure them out. Too complicated I guess. And they belong outside. But outside there are coyotes. So, we don't have cats.

Yes, we are dog people. But we are NOT puppy people. The two dogs that we have right now we did not have as puppies. They came to us after the puppy thing was over. One is a rescue dog that was abused and eventually abandoned by her former owners. The other was the pampered pooch of an elderly lady who passed away. I would argue that they are two of the best dogs on the planet for many reasons. One comes when she's called and the other one doesn't shed. I'm obviously not too hard to please.

Yesterday my brother came into town. He brought his puppy. His little cute beagle puppy. His cute little impulse buy beagle puppy that his wife fell in love with at the pet store. He's pretty smitten himself. How can you not be? Look at that face.



But, she is a puppy. My husband came home and was home for a grand total of ten minutes before he commented, "If we ever get a puppy again, one of us has dementia, and the other one . . . "

"Is dead?" I finished for him.

"Yea."

We've had our share of dogs that weren't so great. One was named Sadie. She shed unbelievable amounts of hair for a smooth-coat dog. She was part dalmation. If you've ever had a dalmation, you probably know where I'm going with this. If you've never had a dalmation, don't get one. She spent the better part of her life jumping fences (8 foot chain-link fences) and running away.

I spent the better part of my life while we had her chasing her around city streets furious that she wouldn't come and worried she'd get hit by a car. Two emotions that when experienced together at that level of intensity make normal level-headed people such as myself wish for some sort of medication. Really it was probably the dog that needed it, but I was driven to the brink by that dog. On a regular basis.

My brother's theory is that we gave her the wrong name. Like she would have answered to a different name.

I doubt it. But it's a good theory.

Video! A front carry tie variation. 8)

I don't like to put my baby down. I don't. I love to hold her. I realized recently that she's getting mobile and I'm not keen on setting her on the couch or chair while I tie the mei tai around my waist to get her on. I thought to myself, "Heidi, there has got to be a way to get this kid tied on without putting her down." And after a bit of figuring (just a bit) and a couple practice runs, I give you my new favorite way to use a mei tai. I realize I'm probably not the first to come up with this, but I have never seen it before. Please try it and feel free to pass it on!

Happy Babywearing!

Road trip!

We've been on the road for two weeks. Just got back yesterday. Great fun. Really. With three little girls in the back seat for over 1400 miles--600 or so of those miles covered in ice and/or snow--we can honestly say that we had a grand time. I love the little portable DVD players. And Santa must have known we were headed out and needed him to come early. The bugger sneaked some new Barbie movies into their backpacks after I had packed them. I love Santa.

On the way back we stopped for lunch in Kellogg, Idaho. A little burger joint called Sam's. Good food. Relaxed and kid friendly without being McDonalds. And the bathrooms are clean.

So while we're waiting for our food, our five-year old is rolling around on the bench, her little stuck-in-the-car body just itching for something to do. So, I showed her this trick:



What good mother (who was the champion spoon sticker to the nose at summer camp) would NOT teach her kids how to do it?



How does that go?





Now Calla is the world's slowest eater. And she fell off the height/weight chart at about 6 months. But that was when she started moving and she hasn't stopped since. But it's meals like these that make me wonder how she stays so slender.



Yes, that is a bacon cheese burger basket with the bacon on the side. Yes, that is a little tub of butter sitting there. Grace gave it to her after she asked so sweetly. "Dace, can I has yo butter, pees?" Grace had pancakes (they serve breakfast all day).

Then she proceeds to do this:



Yes, she is buttering her burger. And yes, she proceeded to EAT it. Nearly ALL of it. I guess everything IS better with butter.

Good times. I love my kids. They are fun. Even after being stuck in the car of nearly a week.

Happy Babywearing!

Dear Santa,

Turn this paper over and see the pretty sunset and pretty house that I made by myself, that I drew with markers for you. Enjoy the yummy cookies. I know they are not your favorite cookies, but I hope you enjoy them with the milk. Jesus loves you. Merry Christmas. He loves you all the time and God made everything.

From: Grace Calla Annabelle dog Voilet and Reegan

(From the mind of a 5-year-old, transcribed by daddy on the back of her pretty picture.)

Happy Babywearing and Merry Christmas everyone!

Cutest. Nativity. Ever.

S'mores for Jesus!

Yummy Chicken. Nuff said.

Food. Sometimes there is that meal that is just divine. And to top it off, it's easy.

Tonite my husband said, "You know, I really like this. I think you could make it every night and I wouldn't get tired of it" as he was picking every last yummy piece out of the pan while I was cleaning up the rest of dinner.

We call it Yummy Chicken--the recipe was actually called Indian Summer Chicken.

A note on my recipe--I'm a "little of this and a little of that" type cook. It sometimes drives my almost type-A husband crazy. But he really likes this dish--and it always turns out yummy.

Brown some chicken breasts. Then throw in some chicken broth (like a can) a glug or two of white wine and a can of stewed tomatoes--or any tomatoes really. Stewed, canned whole, canned diced, fresh, whatever. Tomato sauce would probably work well, too. Simmer that for about 30 minutes. Toss in some basil--fresh if you've got it. And serve. Yummy chicken. We have it with wild rice blend and a salad. And even the girls eat it all up.

Pure bliss in a dish.