Piapie

From Polka Dots to Tea Leaves

 With birthdays come birthday sweaters.  Last year I knit MonkE this thing:

I had long admired it in the Rowan Babies by Kim Hargreaves and realized that we were soon going to size out of the patterns in the book.  So I pulled out the number 3s and knit it up only to sew in yet another ridiculous number of loose ends. 

I love it.  And I am so happy that I made it extra big so that she'll get to wear it for a long time.  But I swore to myself that I wasn't going to do another intarsia sweater for the next birthday.  Nor would I knit anything that required needles smaller than size US 6.  For once I kept my promises to myself.  This year I went with the easy peasy, ever popular Tea Leaves cardigan: 

 

It knit up so fast (one week!) that I immediately found yarn to make one for FunkyB.  Sometimes it's best to not delay gratification.

Ten from the Trip

...down to where the trees grow tall.  

 

Birth(ing) Day

I am sandwiched between these two blue eyed beauties.  

Almost six years ago one them made me a mama.  Forty years ago today I made the other one a mother.  If there is one thing that I have learned this year, it is that four decades doesn't diminish the intensity of that first love.  

It doesn't matter that I've moved across the country or traveled beyond our borders, that I've been a "professional" or started my own family.  It doesn't matter that I stand nearly six feet tall on my own two feet.  I am still her first born baby.

I may be all grown up, but I know that that woman loves me as fiercely as she did when she counted my itty bitty fingers and toes for the very first time.  

As for me, while I may not remember what it felt like to lay on her chest that very first time, I do know that hearing her heart beat is still the safest, most comforting sound in the whole world.   Even forty years later.

Happy Birthing Day, Mom.

 

Birthday Boy

I love the look on his face.  

The bright eyes and the genuine smile.

He's happy there.  I can tell.

I am hoping that he finds himself just as happy throughout today.

After all, it is his birthday.

 

Drawing on the Walls

Once we decided that we were going to repaint many of the walls in the new house I knew immediately that I wanted to have a drawing party.    What kid wouldn't be thrilled at the very thought of being given permission to draw all over the walls?   I couldn't resist the opportunity for so much fun, even if it meant a few cans of primer.  There was the matter of deciding what medium to use.  Permanent markers were clearly out as were crayons.  Chalk was quickly eliminated.  We ended up with colored pencils.

Although some dear friends were absent due to illness and traveling, we still had a good gathering of people who filled our house with enthusiasm and energy.  I love that our walls are filled with bits of creativity and that we each left our own mark on the space, even if it will be covered up within a week.  Those marks will still be there under the new layer of paint.

Best of all are the blessings that were written in various rooms.  That certain walls will watch over the sweet dreams of sleeping heads or contain the abundant food and good conversation that will take place around a table.  That a doorway will always welcome people into our home and that all of the walls of this house will bear witness to much growth and love and happiness in the years to come.

Twas...

...and all through this house, there will be much excitement (and a little Alison Krauss.)  

Nana and Grandpa will sing songs and play games,

Like "Princess" and "Ballet" and "Tiger-to-Tame".

They will read lots of stories till they no longer can.

Then we'll make special cookies for a red-suited old man.  

Santa bags will be brought out and stockings hung up.  

Water will boil for tea in a cup.

Two little girls will curl up in my lap 

And then lay their heads down for a long winter's nap.

Our Peeps

Late last spring, while we were still in Virginia,  I marked October 2nd on my calendar as "Birthday Camping Weekend".      You see, in our core group of friends here in Portland, there are at least eight autumn birthdays to celebrate.  Someone (thank you, West #1!) thought up the grand plan of a group camping weekend, only instead of camping we rented cabins.  But still we called it "Camping Weekend" because "Cabin-ing Weekend" just doesn't sound right.  Anyways, I marked the date and looked forward to it with a deep contentedness.  Not only would we get a good dose of the great outdoors, but it would be a chance to reconnect with our friends.

It was a beautiful weekend with sunshine and a night sky full of stars.  The cabins were awesome (I am not sure when I'll go back to tents, if ever).  The kids had a blast playing, running, biking, hiding, hiking, laughing.  And it felt so good, that deep-down-in-the-core-of-my-being good, to be back amongst our peeps.  

It's good to be home.

B Fest

The morning of her fifth birthday I climbed into the top bunk and snuggled up next to her.  She woke up with a sweet smile and arms stretching far over her head.  I told her about the day she was born and how the golden light of the evening's sunset filled the room the moment she arrived.  MonkE came clammering in, interrupting our snugglefest.  But that's OK, because that's when Funky B saw her birthday dress hanging on the dresser.  She smiled knowingly, having seen me work on it here and there, always with some vague answer for "Who's that for?".

MonkE and I joined Funky B for preschool that day.  She hovered ever so briefly at my side and then went about her merry way, confident and engaged amongst her friends.  Her teacher helped her make a paper crown which was worn until the special one was pulled out that afternoon.

That afternoon we opened a few more presents, including her mama-made sweater, ladybug "stilts", and an elegant bumblebee and butterfly tea set.

At her request and in the company of a few good friends, we indulged in chocolate creme pie with caramel whipped cream.

And now someone is clearly, confidently, contentedly FIVE.

 

 

Surprise Pary

It was sometime in July that I realized that we already had three big social events already on the calendar for our first month back in Portland.   Only two of them actually made it onto the calendar--a welcoming party for a new baby and a group camping weekend.  The third had to be kept hush hush since it was a surprise 40th birthday party for Papi Chulo.  His actual birthday has long since come and gone.  We were in the midst of packing chaos.  He was traveling for work and a wedding AND finishing his last week of the fellowship.  We did our best to celebrate with a few friends, a nice dinner, and a delicious bakery cake chosen by the girls who, of course, picked out the most expensive one in the display case!  But that just didn't seem sufficient.  So...

This weekend Papi Chulo was lured out of the house by the prospect of disc golf.   I pulled baked goodies out of the closet that had been hiding there from days prior.  The kitchen became a whirlwind of activity as food was made.   Eventually everyone and everything was brought to a local park where friends gathered to surprise Papi and celebrate the big 4-0.  

He's a goofy guy, this Papi Chulo of ours.  We love him dearly and it warms my heart that so many other people think fondly of him too.  Let me say it just one more time, 

Happy Birthday, my dear.  I love you.