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animal kingdom / life on thomas run
It's like instantly having a newborn in the house again–without the nine months of preparation, doctor visits, showers, blurry ultrasound pictures tacked to your refrigerator.
On Saturday, Emma and I snuck out of the house well before normal waking time to make a two hour road-trip west to pick up a special furry package.
Meet Ruby, the newest member of the mommycoddle household.
We've been waiting patiently for this day for quite awhile. Passing up on puppies that "just didn't feel right". But this time it all came together perfectly.
For now, she's learning the ropes. Getting her ears boxed by fluffy black cats, finding her favorite spot under the red bench in the mudroom hallway, learning there are appropriate times to play with a large (and very patient) yellow lab–but not at three o'clock in the morning, discovering that the girls are okay when they're splashing in the pool and you don't have to jump in after them.
And she's learning who her people are.
After a walk around the farm this morning, practically tripping me with every step as she galloped to keep up with my big black boots, she's now asleep under the kitchen table–body sprawled out under the chair, chin firmly planted across Emma's little toes.
(photo by katie pertiet)
This one's a keeper.
It's like instantly having a newborn in the house again–without the nine months of preparation, doctor visits, showers, blurry ultrasound pictures tacked to your refrigerator.
On Saturday, Emma and I snuck out of the house well before normal waking time to make a two hour road-trip west to pick up a special furry package.
Meet Ruby, the newest member of the mommycoddle household.
We've been waiting patiently for this day for quite awhile. Passing up on puppies that "just didn't feel right". But this time it all came together perfectly.
For now, she's learning the ropes. Getting her ears boxed by fluffy black cats, finding her favorite spot under the red bench in the mudroom hallway, learning there are appropriate times to play with a large (and very patient) yellow lab–but not at three o'clock in the morning, discovering that the girls are okay when they're splashing in the pool and you don't have to jump in after them.
And she's learning who her people are.
After a walk around the farm this morning, practically tripping me with every step as she galloped to keep up with my big black boots, she's now asleep under the kitchen table–body sprawled out under the chair, chin firmly planted across Emma's little toes.
(photo by katie pertiet)
This one's a keeper.
children and nature / home / life on thomas run / MOTHERHOOD
Things are missing around this house. Water bottles. Dishes. Trays. Mail. Benches. Sweatshirts. Backpacks. Boxes of crackers. Yarn. Pruning shears. Small chairs. Pets.
Even children.
I found them.
They're in the bush.
I don't blame them. It's like a snow-colored wonderland. They've taken those pruning shears and carved themselves a tiny home among the soft balls of white loveliness. There's a whole village underneath those branches. Things that are secrets, things I'm not allowed to see (that would probably be the missing yarn, I'm guessing.) Things hanging, things stored in piles. Special seats for company. There's even a toddling two year old who delivers the mail.
I spent some time out there myself just yesterday. Not huddled under the bush mind you–because there are secrets in there. But they gave me a special bench just outside the door. So I took it upon myself to soak up some sun, listen to their chatter while they thought I was sleeping, and allow little hands to cover me in velvety white blossoms. I swear, it was like a spa treatment.
I highly recommend it.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
On Monday, Mary went to the doctor and was diagnosed with migraines. It's a long, drawn out back story, but I'm just wondering if any of you have any experience or children struggling with this. The doctor said her symptoms were classic. I never even knew children could get migraines. Right now, we're trying to treat it with diet changes, ibuprofen, hydration and catching the symptoms early. I'd love to know if any of you have any experience.
Things are missing around this house. Water bottles. Dishes. Trays. Mail. Benches. Sweatshirts. Backpacks. Boxes of crackers. Yarn. Pruning shears. Small chairs. Pets.
Even children.
I found them.
They're in the bush.
I don't blame them. It's like a snow-colored wonderland. They've taken those pruning shears and carved themselves a tiny home among the soft balls of white loveliness. There's a whole village underneath those branches. Things that are secrets, things I'm not allowed to see (that would probably be the missing yarn, I'm guessing.) Things hanging, things stored in piles. Special seats for company. There's even a toddling two year old who delivers the mail.
I spent some time out there myself just yesterday. Not huddled under the bush mind you–because there are secrets in there. But they gave me a special bench just outside the door. So I took it upon myself to soak up some sun, listen to their chatter while they thought I was sleeping, and allow little hands to cover me in velvety white blossoms. I swear, it was like a spa treatment.
I highly recommend it.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
On Monday, Mary went to the doctor and was diagnosed with migraines. It's a long, drawn out back story, but I'm just wondering if any of you have any experience or children struggling with this. The doctor said her symptoms were classic. I never even knew children could get migraines. Right now, we're trying to treat it with diet changes, ibuprofen, hydration and catching the symptoms early. I'd love to know if any of you have any experience.
