just to be

So many thoughts . . .

I remember as a kid it being so important to be 'someone'. Now I just want to pass on to the buds that it is OKAY to be whomever you want to be. As Damian said when we met him for lunch today, "wow, you sure are making a statement with those socks". Teen years: oh my gosh, I need to go home and change immediately. Now: yes, I am! Aren't they lovely?

So little time . . .

As the buds are sleeping, I'm day dreaming looking out the window as snow is blowing through the air (note to self: check weather for Saturday again, looks like 'outdoor' bday party might be indoors).

Back to reality there goes the internal check list again, #1: write in baby book that Blaise signed 'eat' for the first time today. #2 . .

autumn mosaic

"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all."
- Stanley Horowitz

A compilation of various hued leaves blowing in the wind, fleece jacket to cut the cool air, blowing on hot soup before the warmness envelopes one's throat & tummy, the crackling of leaves when walking through them . . . compose the mosaic in my mind and why I love fall so.

My bud painting a mosaic on the pumpkin and even more on the plate.

My other bud taking in the mosaic of action all around . . . his big brother painting, Daddy's delight and breath, kids screaming, cool air . . take it all in!

trick or treat

Upon rising this morning Ambrose found a tool belt, construction boots, flannel shirt, and overalls featuring a dump truck laid out on the changing table. Without a moment hesitation he declared this was his 'Bob the Builder' costume and why was it here? And the next breath was 'I need to get my Bob hat from downstairs'.

With tool belt and hat on we headed to the zoo for the annual zoo-boo (crafts, treats, etc.) only to find out mommy had the wrong day. So a bit of vacation-eeze still on the brain, a quick 'oh shoot, I can't believe I did that' thought passing . . . wait, wait where is Ambrose?

Oblivious to the fact the event wasn't today, he was around the corner looking at pumpkins that looked like the owl above them. So without another thought we had sites to see . . .

- These half-brothers (the rhinos) were nose to nose pushing each other, ah what lies ahead.

- Bob the Builder 'fixing' the fences all around the zoo.



- An incredible fall day.
- A short hike (numerous stairs later) to view the river. Please note the river according to Ambrose is not moving; this was unbelievable for him.

What a perfect day, a little 'tricked' on the date but certainly a treat!

My little *pumpkin posing for some pics after getting home. (Thanks to Sarah for a beautiful hat!) *The rest of the costume will appear in a future post.

treat for momma

This afternoon: 2 cups of blueberries unthawed (of course that was 2 days ago) and a few minutes to spare equalled a treat for tomorrow morning.


Induling early: Radiating from the oven a delicious smell to tickle one's nose, blueberries so plump as if they are trying to jump into my mouth, coconut dripping from the heat . . .








. . . you guessed it, I indulged! My new favorite muffin. Try one (I didn't have an orange, but a lemon worked just fine) and sip your favorite drink, relax and think of me (as I now have 15 minutes to feed Blaise, kiss Ambrose goodnight, and hop in the car to go play volleyball, another treat; what a sweet day!)

Oatmeal, Blueberry & Orange Muffins
1 c rolled oats
1 c whole wheat flour
1 t each baking powder, baking soda & salt
1 1/2 c flaked sweet coconut
grated rind of one orange
1 egg
1/2 c honey
3 T canola oil
1 T vinegar
juice of 1 orange & add water to make 3/4 c of liquid
1 - 1 1/4 c fresh or frozen blueberries


Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine dry ingredients. Add coconut and orange rind. In a separate bowl beat the egg. Fold in wet ingredients. Fold in blueberries.


Bake 20-25 minutes.


BTW . . . here is what Ambrose and Blaise were doing while I was indulging! What a good big brother, making sure Blaise has enough toys.

the moments

A list of highlights according to Ambrose:
-golf cart rides
-eating
-building stick houses (who knew the 3 Little Pigs could have such impact?)
-helping take out the garbage followed closely by helping to grill

the scene: Harbor Island, SC

Nestled between St. Helena and Hunting Islands in Beaufort County, Harbor Island is a 1,400-acre private community on Harbor River. A small group of people call the island home year-round. For a week we enjoyed it as a quiet and secluded vacation spot.

A moment:
Walking down the boardwalk it was so peaceful, hardly a sound just the whisper of the wind against your ear. The cattails stand erect as morning glories dance among their feet and across the sand. Butterflies are flitting everywhere, as if late for work. Blue sky with puffy hand painted clouds yearning for a child to lie down and ‘discover’ images. Smell the salt laced air as our steps announce our arrival through the creak of each board, every step. They say that full moons bring the lowest of low tides and the highest of high tides; we were rewarded with both.

High tide:
Barely sand to walk on as the waves crash into beach; the little feet next to me are uncertain about the waves. It is fascinating to watch Ambrose move away from the waves since the earth he is standing on is not as solid as he has expected. But a second later surrender to their enticement and run kicking up his feet to welcome the water’s splashes.

Low tide:
Deciding now is the time to take a picture of Blaise getting his feet wet and capturing the ‘moment’. Walking, walking, walking . . .why did I wait til low tide? Where is the water, when will we get there. Amazing that a few hours ago we couldn’t walk on the beach . . .

tree tunnel

Little feet plodding behind

curious what bigger feet will find.

Outside on a crisp autumn day

with cousins to play.

One found sap on the tree

and a *tree tunnel the little one did see.

*woodpecker's hole

carrot soup jig

Whirring, little fingers pushing, bright colors spinning around. . .

wait, don't dance off the counter.

Full bowls, spoons clinking, mmmm. . .

empty bowls, full tummy. Thanks, Aunt Cathy!

precious cargo

As the world is full of so many choices these days; we were anxious to hear what would headline Ambrose's birthday list this year. The list enunciated to us ever so carefully and in total just one simple item; a wheelbarrow.

What 'outdoor worker' doesn't need a wheelbarrow? We've discovered that our first bud is a worker bee. Take when our neighbors watched him the other night. Their two kids were running around playing as Ambrose was picking up sticks. On a fairly regular basis he will let us know that we 'need to work outside'.

Worker bee here comes your wheelbarrow with some precious cargo inside! Blaise always willing to help, happily obliged to see just how much would fit in the new red wheelbarrow. Sshhhh . . .Ambrose's birthday isn't until 11/2.

work is not a chore

This was shared with me recently from Sarah Jorgensen and so apropos today: “It is important for us to know the nature of a child’s work. When a child works, he does not do so to obtain some further goal. His objective in working is the work itself, and when he has repeated an exercise and brought his own activities to an end, this end is independent of external factors.—Maria Montessori, From Childhood to Adolescence

When children work, work is not a “chore.” A little understanding of the difference between the way adults and children approach work goes a long way toward making family activities rewarding for everyone. An adult works efficiently, using the least effort. Children work with every molecule of energy focused on the task at hand. An adult tires after working hard. Children seem re-energized and refreshed after periods of intense work. And of course, an adult’s outwardly visible goal (a leaf-free lawn, for example) is of little consequence to the child wrapped in the rhythmic, whole-body experience of raking. When you work outdoors together this year, scale the task to the children’s abilities, provide tools that fit their hands, step back, and enjoy.

Tools in hand and a quick trip down the road, we arrived at the greenhouse ready to do some 'work'. Ambrose immediately defined his role as 'once you pull the weeds I will put them in the can'. Ah, my own personal 'collector'. Blaise cozy in his lazy boy giggled and cooed while weeds were ushered past him.

My bud, Ambrose, was beside himself with glee from the fruition of the day. The excitement vibrating off the glass as he announced yet another vegetable he recognized. As an adult I'm also enamored with the way things grow. But from a vantage point of approximately 3' a whole new world must be revealed. I try to imagine myself on my knees, as if I'm 3' tall, walking around the greenhouse open to the bounty our earth provides . . .

the joys of apple picking

The bounce of the wagon, crisp leaves underfoot, fall leaves colored as if from a paint brush, and giggles while trying to find the 'perfect' apple. Small hands begging to pick more, proclamation of "this is a good one", teeth biting a crunchy apple and savoring the juices. Those chubby cheeks asking to be pinched.

Round up the apples while we smell sugary donuts and cider in the air . . . pies to be made.

family visit

Last night, in a short but treasured hour we caught up with Uncle Ray, Aunt Joyce, Aunt Evelyn and Aunt Pinky. Lots of reminiscing, kisses, cooing and stories were shared by all.

the skate of his life

Upon Daddy's departure two nights ago, our 'secret mission' commenced. The mission: to surprise Daddy at his hockey game. The players: small buds yearning to play someday.

Was our mission complete? A skate on the ice left Ambrose's body shaking, smiling from ear to ear while repeating 'Daddy held me on the ice'. Blaise on the other hand couldn't get enough of the cheering section (the hot ladies) behind us and smiled the whole time showing off the start of his first tooth.

how the buds remind us of ourselves

As if I opened up my baby book to a picture of myself. Normally, even with trying really hard, I do not see a lot of myself in either of my 'buds'. Possibly the adorable smile? sweet potatoes on Blaise's lips? the one arm reaching for more food? Wait, I've got it . . .the hair.

rainy day activity

Ambrose declared two days ago that it was 'yucky' outside. Followed with the statement that "I need a craft". Of course I can see Daddy just shake his head; while the proverbial kid arrives in my mind and I frantically try to sort through 'the options' in my head.

Sometimes Ambrose will lay out in list formation which 'tools' he requires for said craft. The other day was a bit unusual he simply left it to me. New tools were used, hand/eye coordination, scissor cutting skills, a rainbow of crayons, a glue stick and most importantly his imagination.

A push pin to punch through the outline of a duck. Quack, quack, quack. Scissors to fringe the duck in order to "make it look nice" and off to the Lily pond. When in actuality the duck had a Lily pad colored on it; even better! And there were frogs jumping in the pond, splashes in the water . . . . . .