When Mike said, "It's a surprise!" he wasn't kidding. My 34th birthday brought MY PARENTS to the coast for a wondrous four days on the Oregon coast. It was incredible... Happy birthday to me!

We stayed in a house On The Beach. Perfect for...

art and games

digging and building and knocking down

beach walks

shelter talks

kite flying

dancing

night strolls

happy hours

jammin' and dancin'

lazy afternoons

bonfires

aaaaahhhhhh....

I know, I know... I've been a slacker. But it's not for lack of pictures or events (coast! birthday! road trip!) It IS for lack of working computer with picture software. Working on it, folks. Working on it.

It's been a looooong run of wakeful nights...and sometimes her up times are REALLY up. Like playful, crawl around, sing to me up. So, as I oscillate between melting from sweetness and suffocating from exhaustion, I bust out the video.

Happy Mama's Day. I spent the day doing quite a bit of reflecting on the last 4 1/2 years that have defined me as a Mama. It all began here...on a morning that dawned with a double rainbow and the birth of wee Winnie Lou.

Three and a half years later, a thunderstorm brought with it sweet Jezebel.
Today, there was a thunderstorm and a rainbow.
And I have two gorgeous daughters who call me Mom
(or Mama, or MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! or Mommy or WAAAAAAAAAA! or some variation thereof).

I feel like the luckiest woman alive!

May= Sidewalk Chalk. Don't ask me why I'm wearing wool tights on this hot afternoon. My explanation would have to include why I insist on tank tops and skirts when it's 36 degrees and I'd lose you. I know, because I've tried explaining this to my mom 47 times and she just doesn't get it.

I am on the move. I stand and actually took what some might call a step today. Other might call it a stumble forward on my plummet to the ground, but those are the cynics.

My mom is teaching me to become a witch. She is enabled and encouraged by a friend of hers who sent her this awesome book of "Potions and Concoctions."

Okay, so despite my sly look, it's nothing all that supernatural. It's actually just a really fun exploration of how make stuff instead of buy stuff. Like detangler and facial cleanser.

Easy. Fun and so yummy smelling you want to drink it. Or I did, anyway. And tried, but was foiled again.

Hey, Ma! Could you check this out? I think the dog drooled on my head.

I plan on coloring her blue in retaliation.

Seriously? You're taking away the marker? How's a girl supposed to defend herself around here?

Fine. But I'm about to turn around, crawl to the cilantro and parsley and eat it.

Faster than you can say "Don'tcolorthedogdon'tchewthemarkergivemethatplease"

So there.

Happy Earth Day. Julie here... to say that I failed Earth Day. I bought a book that has to be shipped from Arizona. I took my car to a neighborhood meeting (you do the math), I used a paper cup for my water at said meeting, and turned the faucet on to fill the dog bowl and FORGOT about it long enough to drain the nearest resevoir. Oh, and I just packed Jezzy's bag for day care tomorrow with disposable diapers (they're leftover from a trip and it would just be a shame to let them go to the landfill unused, right?)

We got one thing right... we picked a salad from our front yard.

I ate it with all the redemptive gumption I could muster.

And said a little prayer to mother earth, promising that I would be better tomorrow. Happy Earth Day, every day. Thank goodness.

And, now, for your listening enjoyment: Winona Lou sings "A Fine White Horse" from, you guessed it, The Secret Garden.

Jez hangin' with Lu. Lucy being extremely patient.

W: It was a BEEYOOTEEFUL day today--made even better by a trip out to a friend's farm for a party. Here I am walking the grounds. Pictures of Jezebel are scarce since she is on the photographer's back. She was pretty cute, though, you have my word.

In case you were wondering, red sunhat, disco shirt, bikini top, striped black tights, clown tutu and jelly shoes are regulation croquet wear.

...and, turns out, surprisingly versatile as it made for a perfect hula hoop outfit, as well.

This place is gorgeous...

I think mom is considering becoming a farmer. I'll wait for an opportune time to remind her that she's already lost half of her chard to the neighbor dog-- hardly a track record that will allow us to live off the land.

Cousins! We Love Cousins!

..and we love pickles bigger than our arms. ...and we LOVE uncles who play princess games.

We went to The Happiest Place on Earth. Need I say more?

I went on stage and verified what I suspected would be true: I LOVE to go on stage.

Jez is clapping for me. Not the bar-b-que lunch. No, really, she's clapping for me.

...videos to follow.

Coping Mechanisms: by Winona "Sassy Pants" Lou

I'm learning that we all have things called "coping mechanisms." Today, mom's came in the form of a long chat with a co-worker and fellow mom about "managing attitude"-- out of which she got a frustratingly practical tool that involves some counting and a time-out if she gets to three. I'm learning not to let her get to three because, here's the thing: I hate time-outs. Which leads me to one of MY coping mechanisms: Lists.

I made this list when I was in one such T.O. (yeah, yeah, yeah--she got to three). When mom came up to relieve me of this torture and Talk To Me About Something Important (namely: No Talking Back. No Sassy Pants), I listened, apologized, then asked if I could read her my list of things I was upset about. She obliged--and I share it with you here. For those of you out there who are not 4-year-old-script literate, I'll translate for you: "There are some rules I like and some rules I don't like. I like, "Tell the Truth." That's important. I do NOT like Time Outs. Really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really do NOT."


Mom took this rather well. In fact, she said that I would never have to do one again...as long as I always did what was expected of me. This was exciting news and I ran off to play with my dollhouse, which leads me to Coping Mechanism #2: Pretend Play.
To work through some of my inner-turmoil about this whole episode, I thought it might help to replay it in real time, adding a few things (like a few well-placed kind, thoughtful words on "my" part) and deleting a few things (like the number three). All in all, I think Sister (in red above) learned some very valuable lessons about saying "NO!" to mommy (bad idea) and the importance of time outs (totally a fine thing in my world now that I know I'll NEVER have one. ever. again.)

It's been a beauteous weekend spent in celebration of the good things: family, friends and spring. It was Mikey's birthday today, which brought Friend Miguel (as Nona calls him) to town for a visit. He taught Winona how to play basketball--something that she (shockingly) had not learned from her parents. Also celebrated a six year old friend's birthday today with swimming, games and a princess castle cake which has set the Birthday Cake Standard for all of us. (Thanks a ton, parents. You know who you are and I'm buying your kid a drum kit next year).

Saturday was sunny and warm, bordering on hot. A day spent in t-shirts and flip flops, putzing in the garden, by which I mean to say strolling around the garden, picking at weeds here and there, in awe of how spring really WORKS. Sure enough... buds, green and blossoms.

Here, on a blueberry bush...

Here, on a little patch of wonder in our front yard.

And, here.
Even when the sun shines, we need to sleep (this is a view from my perspective; camera pointed down at babe asleep in papoose).

Or, come home from the library with a Mexican market bag full of books, and spend an hour perusing the haul.

Kisses!

First, watch this clip from a previous post: http://winonalou.blogspot.com/2006/12/kisses.html

Then, fast forward three years and a few months...

Testing Testing 123. I think you can make comments now.

I think if I were one of those guber-organized bloggers who bookmark their postings under various themes and titles, a good 90% of our family blog would be under the heading "Food."

After guerilla-cooking for most of my adult life (What's in the fridge? That would be good with some noodles or rice), I've only recently discovered the goodness of cookbooks--and the recipes that lie therein. I'm now a big fan of about 4 or 5 of them, but the one pictured here is the one that stole my heart and got me started on my new love affair with cookbooks. The good ones are so much more than a compilation of recipes-- they are whole culinary philosophies illuminated and expressed. My mom gave Nourishing Traditions to me a couple of years ago and it's not just a cookbook, folks: it's a lifestyle. One that embraces whole cream, pounds of butter and organ meats (and banishes refined sugar from the diet). I've yet to try the recipes highlighting the latter, but the two former? Well, let's just say that "2%" is a swear word around here--these cream cheese pastries have more calories in them than I consumed during my entire college career. (Note: cream cheese=homemade, page 169-divine). We had these with NT meusli for breakfast...

...and then headed out to plant our Hardy Garden. (i.e. the one that will weather a few more chilly nights and, as they pointed out today after these little guys were in the ground, some hail later this week). Kale, arugula, mesculin mix, spinach and chard are in the ground...

...and being very tenderly cared for.

What am I laughing at, you ask?

My sister. Her friend cut her hair during a play date...

and we're all pretty amused by the results.

"No, really, I need a professional. Mom keeps taking a scissors to my head trying to fix things and I'm no expert, but I suspect she's making it worse. Please fit me in. Oh no! Here she comes with the scissors again! What do I DO? Can you talk to her, PLEASE?"