Colin is generally a happy baby but has not ever been one for affection. Each evening Audrey lays big kisses and bear hugs on Greg and I before bed but Colin turns and runs as fast as his little legs can fly. On Saturday he started showing cold symptoms and now Tuesday his nose still runs gross greenness. Of course this is the week he has chosen to begin displays of love for his mother. It started yesterday. He comes and tries to climb up my legs while I sit with my cross stitch or folding laundry. I haul him up and he twists and wriggles until he is turned around facing me. His short arms wrap tight around my neck and we are so close our foreheads touch. And then he smiles and pushes his wet booger face tight against mine. Yuck but ahhhhh, so cute. The next problem is that he is egged on by my cringing mixed with laughter so he goes for it again and again... I will save you the picture on this one :)

Audrey should be napping now. Threats don't work for her, neither does reason. She goes for rewards. I promise her we'll go outside and she can ride her bike later if she takes a nap. She's almost there so I throw in "I'll sing you a song too." Oops, I forgot this always takes a while. When she's trying to drag things out she doesn't want any of the old standbys. When it comes to song selection she deliberates, she stalls, and then she uses vague descriptions of songs I'm sure we've never sung. Today she finally says, "I want you to sing about the garbage colors." What? Think, think, Jill, what could this possible translate to? I figured this out in under 60 seconds - I rock!

Out of my window looking through the night
I can see the barges’ flickering light
Starboard shines green and port is glowing red
I can see the lights for miles ahead

Barges I would like to go with you
I would like to sail the ocean blue
Barges have you treasure in your hold
Do you fight with pirates brave and bold

Audrey asks if I was married like a princess in the temple. I tell her yes. We talk about my dress and I explain that everyone in the temple wears white dresses. She asks if my shoes were white or pink. I laugh and say white. And then she asks if they were made of glass.

Our morning as a family usually consists of Cheerios, cups of warm milk for the kids, hot chocolate for Greg and hot Pero, instant natural beverage, for me. On our better days as parents we read scripture stories to the kids during this time together.

While I am describing who John the Baptist was Audrey interrupts,

"Mom. I knooooow. That John," she says while pointing to the illustration of a bearded John the Baptist, "lives at Grandma's house."

(photo: Audrey's Uncle John who does happen to live at Grandma's house:)

A more advanced topic was that of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness. Greg explains that the devil told Jesus to turn a stone into bread and asks Audrey what she thinks Jesus did. Without pausing Audrey replies,

"No, Dad, he not turn the rock into bread because he not have his wand."

Audrey made a coffee filter basket in nursery today. Inside the basket there is a white fabric ghost with a face drawn on it. I tried for a moment to make connections to scripture stories or other possible nursery lessons. Nothing. So I asked Audrey.

"This is baby Noses," she says.

The story apparently goes like this. Baby Noses was put in the basket and sent down a very fast river. A giant dolphin came and opened it's mouth and swallowed baby Noses and his basket. The end.

Audrey and I went to Tom's farm market. I wanted her to get inspired about vegetables. I thought the green fields and big red barn would be happy, positive associations for the largely neglected area of her dinner plate. We had a lot of fun. Audrey selected a huge red pepper and scooped handfuls of green beans into our bag. Of course there was corn too. Sweet, delicious, corn.

And then the fresh produce led to shelves of homemade jams and salsas, and tables of fresh berry-packed pies and aromatic breads, fudge too. And then there were kitchen accessories. Strainers, peelers, wooden spoons. I guess I see the connection. But soon we discovered darling hand-painted ceramic dishes, and greeting cards, and herb-smelling soaps the size of a mini-loaf. Then displays of cool jewelery and trendy purses and luscious baby gifts. What?

No, farmer Tom and family did not make all this stuff. But someone definitely did some research on their typical clientele. Or at least the "type" of person (me) who is attracted to a farmer's market. I was absolutely in heaven. Audrey stalled in front of a set of mother-daughter aprons. Ruffles abound. The tiers of coordinating fabric were gorgeous. Price tag? Nearly 40$ a piece. Sorry, Audrey. I instantly said,

"I will make you an apron."

Audrey "Today?"

We escaped with $4.76 in produce and no more. Great will, Jill. Twenty-four hours later I am so thoroughly proud of my accomplishment, nearly as good as the one at Tom's.


P.S. The green beans were a no-go for the kiddos. But we made progress on the pepper. And the corn - was gone five minutes into dinner.

"Where does the food go?" Audrey asks at dinner. I try to explain in simple terms that it goes down your throat and into your tummy. Greg adds that the food is used all over her body.

"How does it get there?" Audrey asks. I tell her that her blood carries the "food" all over her body; to her fingers, head and way down to her toes, and that it helps her to grow bigger too.

Without pausing Audrey points to a fresh strawberry on her knee and corrects me, "No, Mom, the blood just goes to my knee."

I am proud of Colin's golden herculean curls. I don't style his hair or anything like that but when I consider his wild childish waves - I smile.


It's early August. It's hot. He wipes his hands in his hair when they are messy with spaghetti sauce or yogurt or honey. And unkempt waves can look more like neglect than style on a toddler. So I cut it. Colin was not happy. When I looked at the pile afterward I wanted to undo what I had done. I wanted to cry. It was like a part of my baby was gone.


Today we have recovered. Colin grins and I think he can tell that his new hair cut makes him cooler. I took a picture of the baby hair pile and freed myself to throw it in the trash.