update: the pits.

The homemade deodorant has been a huge success. It smells a bit like WD-40, which around here is just fine. All of the delicate underarms in our household have been converted to the in house brand.

So this is the summer that I (so far) have made my own deodorant, picked tons of berries, made naturally sweetened frozen jam, grew a fairly impressive garden and managed to keep 2 small children alive. Well done, me.

i think that went well.

I have been thinking about the words I don't say to Claire. How many times throughout the day does she have to hear me gush about the fabulousness of Mister Baby? How often does she hear me compare her brother to a robot (because he never cries, he goes to sleep without a problem, he eats everything, he always smiles). Robot. I decided to practice affirming the girlie. Here's how that went:

Mama: You know what I love? I loved having a baby girl and watching her grow into a big kid. You're so funny and smart and sweet. And you're a great big sister. I love being your mommy.

Claire: I love trucks.

unconditional.

I can't imagine a better babydaddy than this guy. Happy Father's Day, Nate. I love you.

dear claire.

1. On the way home from spending the night with Owen you demanded to be returned to his house. You stated, "You're not my mommy." I may have died a little inside.

2. Later, the same day out of nowhere, you say, "Asparagus makes your pee stink. But only your pee. Not your poop." Thanks.

3. When I asked you what thought would be an appropriate consequence for taking my laptop without permission, you wisely suggested, "a treat."

Never a dull moment, girlie. Three is kicking my butt.
Love,
Mama

PS. Lately, there are more blog pictures of the Mister than you. He is more willing to pose. (He also eats everything I feed him and would never tell me that I'm not his mommy). Somedays he is easier, somedays you are. Both of you are my favorites.

we are the luckiest.

Going away for 28 hours was no easy task. Thanks to gracious friends who let our little ones sleep over for a night so that a very tired mommy and daddy could hang out alone and talk about our kids uninterrupted.

friday night book club.

They have a system only the two of them fully understand. She previews a book, shouts out the title and discards it. She directs him to "read" it. He almost always complies. She's not happy when he rejects her selection. They go on and on like this for much longer than you'd think a 2 and 3 year old would with only a pile of books to entertain them.

It is the easy rhythm of old friends. They are old friends. They have known each other their whole lives. This time is precious. Before they realize that she is older. Before one of them becomes cooler than the other. Before braces and breasts and cooties. They love each other because they've known each other their whole lives.

Watching them, I am reminded that this time won't last. It can't. My heart catches as I watch them go from babies to toddlers to children together.

smells like teen spirit.

If you were to guess who in our house had sensitive skin, I bet you wouldn't guess it was the person who wears a respirator and leathers to work. But it is.

So, when Dana emailed me a link to a deodorant recipe, and I had all of the ingredients in my kitchen, I knew I had to try it. Even after I told the internet that it could punch me in the face if I started making my own deodorant*. I'll let you know how Nate's delicate skin fairs after trying my creation.

*Note: I used my kitchen aid to mix this stuff up, which is maybe a tiny bit gross. It made a HUGE batch (probably 3 times what you would put into one stick). Also, since it's not technically my own deodorant but Nate's, please refrain from face-punching me the next time we meet.

what not to wear: toddler edition.

I'm loading the car. Imagine my surprise when Claire comes running out in this stylish number.
We were on our way to play with the big kids (Hi Luke, Hi Isabella). Then she asks me, "What 'sabella say about my outfit, Mama?"

I had no answer.

the doctor is out.

I was surprised to see comments asking for the recipe for my happy tea.

I'll tell you what I did before starting the tinctures and tea and if you're still interested, email me and I'll tell you more.

I cut out sugar. I mean completely. Also, dairy. And white flour. This is not to sound awesome. Although, honestly in comparison to how crappy I felt just a few months ago, I feel awesome. I am eating natural sweeteners: raw honey, maple syrup, nasty nasty backstrap molasses, a few other things. I have never once been successful at dieting. But this feels different. This isn't because I want to fit into my skinny pants. This is about being tired of feeling awful. This one change was huge for me. Go off sugar for a month, I dare you.

And, in my quest to turn my kids into serious hippies, Mister Baby has been subjected to some awesome unprocessed teething biscuits. He is a fan. Though really, the dude will put anything in his mouth, so he's love of the natural teethers isn't saying much.

shucks. i might as well stay where i am and be your little bunny.

C: Mama, we two trees. We come home to 'chother.

silver lining.

When you find yourself without water on a Saturday morning and in need of all sorts of well-related repairs, the tank will come in a rad cardboard box, which will make an outstanding fort.