2 AM - post party

Still going.

Why babies have special soap...

Happy Birthday Birdie Boy!

back from the farm

Our Easter is usually spent at my maternal grandmother's farm. My grandparents are retired now, but in it's day the farm has produced crops, cattle, ducks, chickens, and turkeys. Today, only 3 horses belonging to my mother live there, growing fat on the nine acres around the homestead, and a single cat who has adopted my grandfather. This farm formed a large part of my memorable childhood landscape. I adore this bit of land.

The farm is one of those places that you say that the more it changes, the more it stays the same.



This is particularly true of the upstairs of the farmhouse, a place my grandparents rarely venture these days. With four bedrooms upstairs and no one to sleep in them, the upstairs attic has become a store room.



The walls, painted long ago, peel gently and the dust is allowed to accumulate undistrubed. It is also where we stay when we come to visit. A baby gate has been added to the top of the very narrow flute like steps to stop nighttime wakers from accidently miss stepping (a precaution no one thought my cousins, brother and I needed as children - remind me to tell you of the many times I fell/was pushed down!)



The upstairs may be in a bit of disrepair, but it is quiet and peaceful up there. All the colours have faded into soft pastels. Perfect for a bit of reading.



And napping.



There are those of us, however, who have no truck with peace, quiet, and sleep. For them, there is always outside.


Thank god.

And, at grandma's house, it is always somebodies birthday.

Hope your weekend was good too.

receive any strange messages from me lately?

Wait, don't answer that!

But if you have, here is one reason why:

The phantom of the internet is here, by my hard drive

Birdie Boy got to do another photo shoot with mama the other day. I'm breaking him in slowly, trying to let him find his look (which is heavily in favor of floor monkey). We went topless for this one. Seems to work for him.

I will say this about both my children: they love to eat.

They'll try anything (particularly birdie). Curry, peppers, pickled this and thats, they'll try it. Might not like it, but still. They don't say yuck; they say no thanks. (I'm probably a bit too smug here - dinner tonight I'll be too stuffed on my words and not be able to eat ;0)

the many faces of Brodo

This morning while making coffee Brodo managed to snake his little hand in the bag of beans and grab himself a handful. Quick as a wink he had one in his mouth. He knows to act fast because I am forever wrestling something frightfully choke-on-able out of his little fingers (this happens alot when you have a 4 yr old, 3 yr old, 2 yr old, and now 18 month old also in your house).

So, coffee beans: He was one stressed out baby as he crunched his way through the bean. He kept looking at me like, "mama, going to save me now from this bitter bean?" No, little man, this is called natural consequences. Plus, watching his expressions was way too funny and I had to find the camera ;0

Brodo is always eating something. Even washing him up after a meal we use at least two wash cloths, because he gets ahold of the first one and chews and sucks on it.



And then, after he is out of his chair, you realize that he did not actually eat all four pounds of food you tossed his way, but dropped, very deliberately, at least a pound of it down the chair.


And people wonder how come kids cost so much. Or have so much gas.

Hope you guys are enjoying the springier weather. It's amazing to witness another rebirth. The tulips are just starting to poke up out of the ground... must get out there with the camera for some time lapse tulip action!