Wednesday, November 24, 2010

a Thanksgiving song



well, it's more about the turkey. but still.

Ella learned this at school, then Sadie promptly learned it from Ella. I love that Ella has her eyes closed through half of the song. Also, the Sadie-screech at the end? classic.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Halloween

Remember Halloween? I do. Mostly because Andy and I dressed up (we haven't done that in several years). But this year it wasn't just about the girls. Oh no. We decided it was time for us to shine (well, the invitation for a costume party decided it for us, but we willingly agreed).

The party was a couple days before Halloween, but we had so much fun being an 80's rock duo (Andy named us PROM) that we dressed up again while the girls trick-or-treated.



Oh yeah, the girls. Ella was a Titans cheerleader,


and Sadie was a cowgirl.


Look at my little family. Look at my man's flowing, mulletted locks.


Every year we trick-or-treat on our cul-de-sac. This is the second year our friends, the Oakes fam, joined us.


(Amelie really REALLY wanted to be in our family pic)


After the girls got their candy, they would run away yelling, "Thank you! Happy Halloween! Happy Trick-or-Treat!"


Rock on, Halloween. Rock on.

Friday, November 19, 2010

three wishes

Sadie has three wishes. When she sees a star, she asks for these things. When asked what she wants for her (fourth) birthday, she says these things. When Santa asked what she wanted for Christmas, she sweetly requested these things.

Always these three. Always in this order.


An American Girl doll that looks like me named Kit,



a seesaw,



and a baby sister.

{so this is Sadie as a baby, but you get the idea}

The other night we finally had to break it to her that she would not, in fact, be getting a baby sister for Christmas. To not get her hopes up. That if one were coming Mommy's tummy would be really huge right now. She was pretty disappointed, but seemed to understand. And she continues asking for one.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

uncle clay



Before the series (that I read and was addicted to but never really knew why) came out I would have never looked at this and automatically thought of a vampire. ahhh, pop culture.

{For those of you who have not read the literary prowess - cough, cough - a vampire whisks his human love-interest through the woods faster than the speed of light. I can't remember what this was to prove. That vampires are really fast? hmmm.}

Sadie would have no doubt, however, that Uncle Clay could easily scale the tallest tree in the Pacific Northwest (with or without her hanging on for dear life). To her, he can conquer every height. She has watched (with a mixture of delight and concern) as he has climbed oaks, maples, pines and magnolias. Every time she considers something towering above her, Sadie states that Uncle Clay can either touch it or climb it.

I think she's right.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

toothy

we've moved into big girl tooth care

this is what our dentist recommends...





Sadie can't stop flossing.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Flood

* I came across this partial post in my draft folder and am posting it 6 months later. *

The Nashville Flood. The Other Situation 2010 (the first situation being January's snowstorm). The 500 Year Flood. The Millennium Flood. These are a few names of what Nashville (and the 49 surrounding counties) have been calling what happened two weeks ago.

I am probably the last person with a blog to give an account. I do not plan to go much into the actual details and descriptions of what happened. There are countless blogs, articles, pictures, and songs that do an ample (and much superior) job.

Astoundingly, most of the country did not a.)know about it b.)know the severity of it. The city gave a collective cheer when Anderson Cooper came to cover the devastation. It's all most of us have thought about since it's happened.

Some parts of the city look as though nothing has happened.

Some parts look as if the whole block decided all at once to rip old carpet from their basements (our street).

And some parts look as if they are moving out of their houses...but instead of boxing up their belongings, they are throwing all their belongings away. ALL OF THEIR BELONGINGS.

This is where my heart is sitting right now. With those people who have nothing. This flood showed no economic favor. People with humble homes to people whose houses were filled with expensive things. They all lost everything. EVERYTHING.

This is the mantra in my brain. It's what I think about when I tuck my children in at night. What if their beds were gone? What if all their books were gone? What if their favorite blanket was gone?

And it's not like all of the things just disappeared. Families - moms, dads, children - had to come Back into their homes and physically pick up all the things that are dear to them...and throw them away. They had to sift through sludge, mud, excrement, and rats - to discard their treasures.

We had to rip up our basement floor and walls. It's annoying. My arms are sore and stiff today from scrubbing mold and dirt off of the cinder blocks. It's painful and monotonous. We will have to replace the floors and walls. It's not cheap.

BUT.

We got off easy. We are being forced to go through our things and decide what to keep, throw away, or give away. DECIDE. So many people are not afforded the opportunity to decide.

So I am looking at our things with fresh eyes. Setting aside what we do not need for those who need everything. It's the least I can do. We may not have loads of money to give in the telethon. But we have our two hands. And we have stuff. STUFF. I am both disgusted by it, and grateful for it.

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

Scars

They tell how it was, and how time
came along, and how it happened
again and again. They tell
the slant life takes when it turns
and slashes your face as a friend.

Any wound is real. In church
a woman lets the sun find
her cheek, and we see the lesson:
there are years in that book;
there are sorrows
a choir can't reach when they sing.

Rows of children lift their faces
of promise,
places where scars will be.


-William Stafford