Showing posts with label Brady. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brady. Show all posts

Monday, May 27, 2013

These are a few of my favorite things…

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Clotheslines sagging with clean drying diapers over freshly mowed grass (and dogs that photo-bomb),

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little boys making mud pies and the fruits of their labors,

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has-been hair do’s that aren’t anymore…

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Flowering chives and buzzing bees,

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and sisters pooling their talents for birthday present pictures,

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promises of sweet things to come,

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brilliant blue eyes and a face full of freckles,

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and two year olds who love green gum and (fraternal) twins,

and one year olds who nap longer because the kids are outside,

 

--- these are a few of my favorite [spring] things.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

A day in the life: Wednesday

Yesterday I ran out of gas in the lawn mower. I had it straddling the ditch, stuck, one tire in the air, another in the mud, and the mower died. I couldn’t have planned that if I’d tried.

My kids now know what the N means on the shift column. Important lessons, folks.

I managed to load the kids into the van, run to town for gas, drop off library books (the day they were due!) and drop of clothes to be donated (that rode around for at least a month in my van first) and was home again in 20 minutes to rescue the lawn mower. Maybe, just maybe, the successes outweighed the failures.

Our Yorkie-Poo Brady is forever sleeping on my laundry. She sleeps in the laundry room at night, and she’s forever abandoning her bed for the basket full of laundry instead. It drives me crazy. I don’t leave clean laundry in there (Lesson learned!) but still. She’s a dog. No matter how hard I try to keep on top of it, she drops ticks. In my laundry. And if it happens to be her bi-yearly… oh, that can get ugly.

I figured out how to stop her. I had just checked her over for creepy crawlies, had Liberty give her a bath, so it was high time to make this discovery.

Don’t have any laundry left in the laundry room.

That’s right, my friends. I hit the bottom of the basket yesterday. It hasn’t happened very many times in recent history, but I even had the kids’ clothes from the day washed. I started the last load after they changed into pj’s. And wouldn’t you know, this morning, Brady had opted for her own cushy bed over the cold, hard, empty laundry basket.

Score one for me.

We planned to make these yesterday. I found out, shockingly, I cannot braid six strands. Or five. So, we opted for three. I can do three.

They still turned out pretty fun. I ended up making seven of them. One for each of the girls, one for an anklet for Liberty, and two for Ruby and Charlotte’s baby dolls.

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Getting Charlotte to smile though… that got interesting.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Snapshots: photos of Monday

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A project in the making…

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A boy who found an open can of peanut butter and an open jar of jelly, climbed on up, and helped himself – deciding to skip the bread.

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Self-entertaining children. Realizing that the branch sways almost violently when someone swings, they decided to work together. Liberty got a free ride, Ruby swung away, and Sterling gave Liberty an extra bounce to her ride. (And Brady stood guard. Such a good little dog.)

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Tales from the back of a very large van. Part 1.

And… we’re back. Swimming in the contents spewed from the van, but home. Looking forward to a day at home to clean up said van spewage.

We were somewhere in Iowa at a rest area about 1/3 of the way home when we nearly lost Brady. The kids opened the van door before I got around to that side, and we all got out, went inside to use the bathroom, and headed back out. I hollered for the dog to take her to do her own business, and she didn’t come. Strange. I was about to give up and assume she was buried in luggage, knowing she’d been in there moments earlier, when a man nearby heard me calling her and asked if Brady was a dog.

Uh, yes. She’s small. Black. Highly annoying at moments like these. The man said a lady had found her, thought she was abandoned, and he was pretty sure the lady left with the dog.

Annoyed, meet panicked. So the dog drives me nuts. She’s naughtier than most of my children, but she’s pretty sweet too. Talk about ruining a vacation.

Turns out, the lady was about to pull out. She sheepishly handed over my now-sheepish dog, who cowered in the corner nowhere near the van doors the rest of the trip. It would seem she might have realized her error.

Until we drove in the yard and had to promptly holler at her for heading to the road.

Back to annoying. Dumb dog.