Preface: This post has absolutely no inspirational value. Unless of course you find inspiration in stories about chicken hawks, homeschooling pity-parties, and bits about my laundry. Sorry.
++The chicks have taken over the downstairs bathroom and the guineas are outside in a movable wire pen that sits on a grassy spot in the yard. Yesterday I heard them making a huge racket and since I was upstairs with a naked baby, I sent Emma outside to see what was happening until I could get out there. There on the ground beside the pen was a large Red-Tailed Hawk harassing the guineas and causing them to run laps around the inside of their pen in sheer terror. The hawk was absolutely resolute about the whole ordeal. Emma walked right up to him, with just the pen between them. He didn't fly until she really started flapping around and saying "very mean things to him".
I came out moments later after watching it all from the window, to see that he had simply flown to a small tree beside the pen, no doubt waiting for this annoyance of humans to disappear. So, being the quick-thinker that I am, I pulled the big oilcloth tablecloth off my picnic table(the beautiful one from Beth) and began flapping and slapping it around at him until he moved on….to a taller tree just over the guinea's cage. He hasn't been back, but I feel like I may be sending my poor guineas to their death the day they are allowed to roam free in the yard.
++Homeschooling Day 2 was "throw in the towel, put 'em on the bus to school" hard. The first day was marked by Emma saying, "Next year I'm going to real school" every five minutes until she finally asked if she was hurting my feelings. Day 2 was marked by grumpiness, bickering siblings, things being spilled, nothing being accomplished, slamming doors, tears (mine, theirs), naps for everyone, and babies falling off tables.
I suppose every year has its challenges–last year it was lack of space. This year it is Elizabeth. She is the most curious (that's me putting a rosy glow on it) of all my children, a climber, a get-into-everything child. Emma and I sit at a long bench at the dining room table and I spend the whole time removing her from top of the table, and putting her down on the floor. Elizabeth, no. Elizabeth, no. Elizabeth, no.
She brings us tiny counting chips in her mouth and spits them out in our hands. She bites the tops off of Emma's new crayons and brings us the leftover nub. She gives me "quiet" by going into the kitchen, sliding the chair over to the table, climbing up on the table and digging her chubby fists into the boxes of cereal, turning them upside down to get out more and "drinking" the glasses of orange juice left there by mistake. Drinking involves 25% of the juice down her front, 75% of the juice on my kitchen floor–which I now know has a nice little sweet spot smack in the middle where all the juice pools.
++I've had the same load of laundry on the clothes line for three days. This will be day 4 if it doesn't come down by midnight. Upon typing this, it occurred to me that the clothes pins and clothes will by now be taken over by a large population of spiders who find my clothes line the perfect foundation for web-building. The last time this happened the large red striped spider that I brushed (more like a spastic swat) off the clothesline showed up five minutes later on my right shoulder. I almost de-shirted in the yard, I was so freaked out that I didn't get him off. Great.
++This one's good. Emily and I met for dinner Tuesday night outside Baltimore. We live so close to each other, I love it. You know how when you meet great people blogging and you say to yourself, "Why can't this person live near me? I know we'd be fast friends?" I'm lucky enough to say that I've met a kindred spirit in Emily. Before we knew it, we'd been sitting there so long we both were desperate for the bathroom and realized it was after ten o'clock. To which we left the restaurant and then spent even more time lingering in the parking lot. Next date? Dansko outlet and dinner at Thomas Run–children and husbands allowed.
++This one is also good. Lisa Leonard sent me two beautiful treasures in the mail recently. I was going to share them today, but I don't want to throw their beauty in with all this whining. But let me just preview it all by saying that I love it, I love it, I love it. And the other thing she sent is now going to be my standard issue baby gift–a simple, classic. Stay tuned.
I leave you (if you're still here) with some words of wisdom from my husband, who reminded me last night that things worth doing are usually worth quitting, too. I'm not throwing in the homeschooling towel yet. I liken it to my newborn analogy–those days after the blissful first days are sometimes crazy, you feel like you're losing your mind, how did I get myself into this, when will I ever find a moment's peace, etc. etc. And then the next thing you know, you've found your groove again, your rhythm, and you wonder how you'd ever live your life other than the way it is right now. You can't imagine it any other way. I'm looking forward to that time. I'm hoping it comes soon.
Thank you for listening, or rolling your eyes, or yawning and rubbing your eyes, but making it to this point.
I guess I found my three minutes.