My Beef.

Alright. Who's teaching my kid around here?

Like, how to dip her little pieces of grilled cheese sandwich into the dime-sized amount of ketchup I put on her plate, just to see what she'd do about it. Suspicious: she knew exactly what to do about it.

And how she knew exactly what to do when I put the laundry basket under the dryer door and opened it. She walked right over and started shoving clothes from the dryer into the basket. Well, I never...

And who, might I ask, taught her how to pick up her baby so gently, hold it up on her shoulder, and pat-rub its back in that heart-melting way? Or go sit beside the bed with her hands folded and head bowed, talking quietly until someone says amen?

Whoever you are....thanks. I appreciate it. Really.
While you're at it, do you think you could teach her not to scream like a banshee when she's not getting what she wants? My head just might explode soon.

Otherwise, I think I'll take it from here, thankyouverymuch.

Ode to D-Hubby, 2 Years Mine.

This past Sunday was our second anniversary! Ya-hoo! 

And I am warning you riiight now that this post is downright mushy. No way around it. Just have to barf it up. ...Just be glad our anniversary is only once a year...

So...two years.

And it's weird. Because it doesn't feel like it's been that long...and at the same time, feels like we've lived three lifetimes since then. Maybe it's because we have lived Baby-Rae's whole lifetime since then...or maybe it's because we've moved three times. Or fell in love all over again more times than I can count. Interesting fact: did you know, that out of the 24 months we've been married, I've been NON-pregnant for a mere 7.5 months??? Let's give D-Hubby a big round of applause for living with a pretty much constantly pregnant wife for the past two years...seriously.

If I even tried to describe my D-Hubby, I couldn't. I think it's one of the things I love most about him...I can never quite seem to figure him out...and can still read him like a book at the same time. I tease him often about how nobody taught him how to talk to a woman...because this man of mine is always just saying exactly what's on his mind. He doesn't really know how to "soften" his words or say things "in a different way" (women, everywhere, know exactly what I mean. Ha!)... He just doesn't know how to be anybody but himself. 

And I love it. 

Because what I get is pure, unaffected him, 100% of the time. It's always real. And I always know how he actually feels about the outfit I'm wearing... :) Sometimes, when I'm feeling especially female, he'll say something that I could totally take in the wrong way. And when I stop him and ask if he could please say that in a different way, he gets it. We both get it. We both laugh about it. And he tries again, for me. 

And sometimes, when he tells me what he thinks about my hair and I tell him what he actually needs to say to make me smile, he says it. Rolls his eyes, maybe. :) But says it...honey, you look good not matter what your hair is doing...for me.

I love that he's not a team-sports fanatic. Or a video-game guru. Even though sometimes I think he wishes he were at least one or the other, for the sake of conversation with other man-folk. But he looooves him some mountains. And all that comes with it...the camping, the hiking, the climbing...the adventure. He loves photography. And he loves to create. Monotony bores him, and I'm glad...because he loves rearranging the furniture as often as I do. He's always looking for something new to learn, a new skill to acquire, a new way to do what he's already done.

He's so silly. And so serious. He drives me nuts. And makes me laugh. He is always a surprise. And he is a phenomenal father.

I sure love my sweet D-Hubby.

To Daycare or Not to Daycare...

...That was the question.

And I mean me starting a daycare, to clarify.

It's one of the plethora of options that always seem to come up as a way of bringing in more income to this penniless little student family of ours. (As a rather random side note: I'm SOooo grateful for so many fantastic friends in the same boat. The poor-student boat is actually kind of a lot of fun when you've got lots of great company.)

So anyways.
I worked in childcare part-time the whole time I was working on my degree. And I got my degree in Elementary Education. Caring for and teaching children has just always been on the menu of my life.

I babysat the Toddler for a while, which worked out fine. And so, D-Hubby and I have often discussed whether or not we could have me take on a few kids at a time on a regular basis. Seemed like a good idea, sometimes. Other times, not so much. Mostly, not-so-much...but I waffled lots.

And so. Once and for all, I wanted to know whether it would be worth it. So I contacted a friend who had run a daycare from her home for 3.5 years, and we had it out. I wanted the nitty gritty honesty...and I got it.

*Disclaimer: I'm sharing this experience, and her experiences, because of the impact it's had on my perspective of motherhood...not as a formal review of having a daycare, or anything else. It's just her experience. So just take it for what it's meant for, aright?? Okee, dokee. Moving on...*

She started off the conversation, right off the bat, with saying that she would not recommend it to anyone. I was surprised that she was so adamant and firm about it from the beginning, but her explanation of her experience helped me understand.
She had a lot of really young kids to take care of. And for a while it was fine. But then it was overwhelming. She found it next-to-impossible to go on vacation or take breaks. Or even going anywhere, day-today, with that many kids, period. And then, it made it hard for her to even want to be with her own kids after everyone else's were gone: kid overload for her. She had small kids at the time, and she felt that she missed out on some of those tender little years with them, that she didn't get to enjoy them like she wished she could have. She made sure to state that it was probably just her, that other people probably had way more patience and stamina then she did. But even now, she has a hard time babysitting friends' kids because she was just so burnt out from the experience.
What did it for her as far as the time to quit, was having another lady from out of town stay at her house overnight during a youth conference. This lady had a day-care-home-thingy for 10 years. Out-of-Town Lady said that from her own experience, she felt she had missed out on vital teaching opportunities with her kids, spiritually and otherwise...and was now starting to see the effects as her kids struggled in school, struggled spiritually, and struggled knowing who they were. Out-of-Town Lady's heart was broken for all the missed moments where she could have been there to strengthen them while they were little. It was the breaking point for my Helpful Friend; it helped her make a final decision, and she got out of the daycare biz pronto.
On the flip side, she said that it was very beneficial financially. Helped make things comfortable...but that even that wasn't really worth it, in her opinion. Get into cheap housing, and cut your expenses instead...and then just enjoy your kids while you can was the summary of her advice to me.

I was grateful for the perspective that she added to the whole question...not because it gave me a great excuse to not do it, (ha) but because it reminded me of the importance of just being there for...and enjoying my kids, as their Mom...the only one they've got. And during the only childhood they get.

And as Baby-Rae keeps growing up faster and faster, I realize that it goes by so SO quickly. Finances will work out, so long as we've got faith and self-control...and two car seats actually do fit fine in the back seat of an M&M-sized hatchback for a while. And when I look back at this time in our lives, I want to smile about packing ourselves into a teensy blue car, with the kiddos in the back seat, while we head out with our tuna sandwiches to meet Dad at the school for lunch so he doesn't have to buy one. Or all squish in for a drive to The Land of the Extended Family to visit Grandmas and Grandpas...the way we'll spend most family vacations for a while (sorry, Disneyland, you'll have to wait). I want to laugh at the cheap fun we had with Baby-Rae washing dishes in her "little sink" beside me (read: taking measuring cups and pouring water ALL over her, the counter, and the floor) and remember the moments we just looked out the window together while she pointed at things she saw, and got excited about seeing dogs walking past. And I want to remember how, after discovering that people have belly buttons, she always wants to lift up her shirt....and MINE....to find the buttons...and is absolutely delighted when she finds my very prominently displayed bellybutton on a very big belly.

So no day-care-home-thingy in our near future. And I'm okay with that.

Because it can wait.

In the meantime, I'll just love me my awesome morning paper route, the way I am currently saving up towards some new post-maternity clothes when the time comes.
And a new car. Saving verrrrrry slowly.

Just In.

I just read this article and thoroughly enjoyed it:

The No. 1 Habit of Highly Creative People

Summer Delicious.

I. 

LOVE. 

Summer.

I used to think that I didn't really have a favourite season...that they all had their beauty and bonuses. And while I still think the last half is true, I'm pretty sure I've come to the conclusion that Summer rocks my socks like no other season. 

I think what might have pushed it to the top of my list is living in cold COLD cities for the past several years. My summers have gotten much shorter since moving away from Hometown. I think it did the trick for pushing me off the fence when it came to choosing a favourite season.

After all....how could you not love a season that brings you this:

I'm in heaven when summer fruit is plentiful. 

(All the above photos are D-Hubby's, by the by.)

And then, just because they're both SO cute...

Summer is already starting to fade from these parts. 

(...whimper...)

Baby-Rae, Accelerated.

Her favourite place in the house. Which, coincidentally, is watching everything going on outside of the house.

I'm indignant.

My Baby-Rae is growing up way too fast. It's just not fair.
She's walking that delicate line between baby and toddler, marching around here like she owns the place (which, really, she does...but shhhh...she's not supposed to know that...), and acting so...grown up.
Recently, she's been picky about giving kisses. She used to give them on command, but then decided she could afford to be choosey...especially when it came to kisses for me, the Mama.
All-of-the-sudden, she's giving kisses again, voluntarily. But you know when she decides to smother you with them? When she is holding, in her sweet pudgy hands, something that she knows she shouldn't have. Like the kisses are supposed to distract me, or butter me up and make me all soft so I let her play with whatever she shouldn't have.
(And it works way more times than it should, dangit.)

Something else that's cracked me up this week? How I've found the cheese grater in the middle of the living room, Baby-Rae's pajama pants and shoe in the garbage, and her teddy bear in the toilet.

Welcome to Toddler-hood.

Starving Artist.

I'm a closet artist. Slash interior designer.

There's a reason I'm in the closet. I'm not good, I just looooove to do it. So I just experiment with my house and cheap art supplies and feed my inner artiste occasionally. These latest projects have been my favourite, though. I found fabric at IKEA that matched my weird-colour-of-blue curtains exactly. Yee haw! So I made a pillow slipcover out of it, scribbled on it, and ta-daa!

=Art. 

And the other picture I wouldn't share otherwise, because this is a majorly unfinished version of the project, but I'm loving it so far, so had to show! The fabric hasn't even been pulled tight across the one board in this picture, the photo board isn't done with some streaks of colour I'm adding, and my edges on both boards are still unfinished...and the third one (there will be a series of threeee) isn't even done hatching in my brain yet. 

Whatever. You get the idea. 

Show and tell is now done! Over and out.