Photo 365 #194

It’s been a heck of a long week already, and I’m really feeling it mentally.  So on that note, here’s another baby picture from this past weekend:

2015-02-14 17.53.57

Here’s hoping I’m feeling a little more with it tomorrow.  Have a great Tuesday, everybody! 🙂

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

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Photo 365 #193

godbrothersWe had company this weekend in the form of an adorable baby.  Seymour’s cousin and her family came for Miss Tadpole’s piano recital and stayed for the day.  I got my baby fix, we played cards, there was good food and lots of fun – it was a perfect day.

The only thing that could have made it better is if Seymour hadn’t had such a nasty cold.

Meanwhile, Cricket is completely enamored of his new little godbrother, and was tickled pink at getting the chance to hold him.  Very carefully.  Under the watchful eyes of all parents in the house and a big sister to boot. 🙂

How did you spend your weekend?

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

Photo 365 #59

Went to an anniversary party last night for Seymour’s godmother and her husband (who are also one of his many aunts and uncles).  They’ve been married 25 years.

sarahcricket

Twenty-five years of togetherness has given them two children, one of whom is Cricket’s beloved godmother.  She’s expecting her first child soon.  Everyone is very excited, though I suspect Cricket will be in for a rude awakening when baby arrives, as he recently proclaimed that his godmother and hubby are his other mommy and daddy.

(c) 2014.  All rights reserved.

Remains

All that survives after our death are publications and people.

So look carefully after the words you write, the thoughts and publications you create, and how you love others.  For these are the only things that will remain.  -Susan Niebur

I was reading WordPress’s Blogging Through Breast Cancer post Wednesday morning and remembered Susan Niebur’s blog, Toddler Planet, which I always enjoyed reading.  She passed away from metastatic breast cancer in 2012, but her blog lives on.  Since it’s chock full of resources, I shared the link in the comments section of the WP round-up post.

The day before, my ex-husband became a father for the fourth time.  He and his wife welcomed another son to their family, but while she recovered from an emergency cesarean, he headed to a children’s hospital an hour and a half away to be with their son.  A crushed umbilical cord led to his arrival three weeks early and a host of problems.

These two things might, at first glance, seem unconnected, and maybe they are, but…

Late

Bubbles the Paddlefoot

Bubbles the Paddlefoot

I know, I know – I’m late again.  It seems to be a thing with me lately.  Our open house was postponed last weekend (sort of), so we’re doing it again today, and it’s thrown my whole weekend off.

I used to always be very punctual; I miss that particular virtue.  Now it seems that no matter what I do, I’m always late, always running behind, and I never catch up.  Just when I think I’m caught up, I realize I’ve forgotten something and I haven’t caught up at all. *sigh*

I think this lateness issue of mine can be traced to my eighteenth Christmas.  I was living with my ex-husband and his parents at the time (we were just dating then), and I was home from college on break.  Things that often happen between consenting adults happened and, lo and behold, some six weeks later, I was late.  You never think it will happen to you, but it can. And it does.

Just one more thing

I’ll be posting about my talk with the students at Reinbeck Elementary School soon.  Yesterday and today have both been pretty long days, though – Cricket just can’t seem to shake this flu bug.  In the meantime, posting may be a bit sporadic.  I imagine everyone’s schedules are in a bit of flux this month, so I hope you’ll all kindly bear with me.  I should be back to normalish soonish.

(c) 2012.  All rights reserved.

Mawwage is what bwings us togevah today…

I said in my post yesterday that twenty-four was a banner year, but twenty-five ranked right up there with it.  We spent the better part of the year planning the wedding and the honeymoon, getting details worked out and being generally happy and excited and everything else that is good.  At Easter, I was confirmed in Seymour’s church after completing the RCIA program.  That was one of the biggest decisions we had made thus far in our life together; his family is devoutly Catholic and mine is Presbyterian.  My family didn’t seem very happy about my decision to convert, but it’s not like I was changing religions or something.  I simply changed my denomination.  After all, Catholics and Protestants do worship the same God, do believe in the same afterlife, do read more or less the same Bible.  It’s not like I joined a cult or something.

However, the difference did pose an interesting question…

Be orange!

My first year of college was an eventful year in more ways than I had ever anticipated.  I was the only kid in my class who dreaded high school graduation; though I was excited about the new opportunities I would have in college, I was terrified of leaving my friends behind and starting over.  A few people from my school went to the same college I chose to attend and, as a private college, it was much smaller than the state universities so the class sizes were comparable to what I’d experienced in high school.

But I was on my own, for the first time.

Two-fer Tuesday

Today is the second, which is the perfect day to write about age two.  And, lucky you, I’ve got a couple of stories!

I am two years and five months older than my younger sister.  For most of our lives, we’ve fought like cats and dogs, although we do seem to get along better now that we don’t live under the same roof.  I’m glad, because we’re all each other has left of our immediate family (by which I do not mean the families we’ve created for ourselves with our husbands, both of whom we love very much).

I digress.  I do that a lot.  Anyway, rumor has it that once upon a time, like say, before she could walk and/or talk, my sister and I actually got along pretty well.  Turns out I was a helpful little stinker.  Too helpful, even.  See, we had this grate in our hallway floor upstairs for the furnace vent and apparently I liked to help change my sister’s diapers at the tender age of two and a half, whether she needed a diaper change or not.  Being a wee lass, I was not exactly up-to-speed on the proper diaper disposal techniques, so I lifted the grate and chucked them down the vent.

Cricket is now a very helpful, sometimes too helpful, toddler of two.  He enjoys helping me change Thumper’s diapers, though he and Thumper are closer in age than my sister and I.  Thank goodness, though, that Cricket hasn’t yet taken it into his head to change Thumper’s diapers by himself – I have a hard enough time convincing him to keep his own diaper on during naps and at night.  For some reason, he thinks he’s old enough to go commando.  A couple of times, it’s resulted in a very large, very smelly mess in their bedroom.  It even led to a failed attempt at potty training.  I swear my kids are plotting to drive me loony.  Still, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Wait, I take that back.  I would change one thing.  I’d be a lotto winner – then I could afford the diapers.

(c) 2012.  All rights reserved.

October Blog Challenge

 

About a week ago or so, I ran across an interesting blog challenge.  Officially, it’s called the October Memoir and Backstory Blog Challenge.  That’s a bit of a mouthful, so I shortened it up a bit for my post title.  Anyway, you can find out more about it here on Jane Ann McLachlan’s blog and sign up for it, should you so desire, here.  I thought it sounded like fun, so I signed right up.

On the off chance that you haven’t clicked through to find out what it’s all about, here’s the gist of it: Write 25 posts in 31 days.  Sounds easy enough, right?  Ah, but there’s a theme: Each post should be a memory or reflection for each of the first 25 years of life.  From the original post:

It can be a personal memoir from your life, a reflection on turning a certain age, a recollection of someone else at that age, a poem or a photo, on the ages 1 to 25.

For example…