Have your pie and eat it too. Quickly.

For 4th of July festivities, we went to friend’s home for a potluck.

Really though, forks might have been helpful.

Though maybe not nearly so much fun.

And Blaine’s beard was really needing a good oiling, I’m sure.

And Ruby may (or, ahem, may not) have wanted to eat a pie of her own…

Good times. Great friends. Fun day. Despite Ruby’s little meltdown. (And, if you must know, it was because I told her to fill her cup with water from one of two coolers, her choice, and Liberty stopped her from the cooler she’d chosen, because it was not labeled ‘water’. It was labeled H2O. Time for a little science lesson for Liberty… and a lesson in not melting down for Ruby.)

A short illustrated story.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Ruby. Approaching her third birthday, she was a feisty little spitfire.

She loved to do chicken chores. Carrying the eggs down the hill from the barn was her favorite part.

This particular egg was impressive. Although I’m fairly certain that the chicken who laid it would disagree and prefer one of a smaller size.

Ruby had a lot of fun showing it off though. After Momma washed it, of course.

And it made it all the way to the patio before it got scrambled. Sorry, egg. But the pictures (that Daddy took) were worth the lacking egg at breakfast.

Totally.

The end.

Now there’s a moment.

We’ve been making bracelets. You know the ones, out of embroidery floss and many, many knots later you have a tri-colored bracelet. Pretty simple and rather cute. Last year I made one for each of the kids. The girls tried and handed them off for me to finish last year.

This year, I’d made mine, Charlotte’s, Sterling’s, and was working Ruby’s when Liberty walked in and asked if I was working on hers. I told her I wasn’t, and she said, “Oh, good. I was afraid that was mine and I didn’t want to be rude but I really want to do my own.” She’s been working on it for two days. It’s not done, and it’s not perfect. But it’s all her own. And somewhere along the line, we’ve gotten past her desire to hand it off when it’s not perfect and it’s hard and have Momma finish it for her so she doesn’t have to struggle with it. Oh, my, my little girl is growing up.

Now that was a moment.

Wish me luck. Making goat meat (ie. ‘chevon’ or ‘cabrito’ – I’m not sure which category he fell into) for supper. I’m nervously skeptical and making a good amount of potatoes on the side just in case we… need to eat potatoes for supper.

Ruby gave Charlie her stuffed bunny to play with. She told me “If Charlie spits on my bunny, you can wash it. Because that would be stinky and gross. And do we want spit on our clothes? No!” It was a one sided conversation like only Ruby can do. So funny.

Baby’s growing and kicking and having fun flipping in my 6-kids later stretched out abdomen. Why stay head down when there are somersaults to be done?

Ruby ate a rice crispy bar before lunch. Then she complained she was still hungry after I told her one was enough. I asked her what she wanted for lunch. “Rice crispy bars.”

We made bracelets from embroidery floss today. All the kids needed one. Even Sterling. He picked John Deere colors. Yep, it’s a manly bracelet for sure that way.

Eden: “Can school teachers have a broken leg and still teach?” What kind of questions is that???

Sterling: “Is your arm a little fatter than mine?” “Yes.”

“Why is your arm fatter than mine?” Umm, food?

And… they’re back.

My girls are back. Life is back to normal. I’ve had to separate more arguments this weekend than normal by a long shot. Ah yes, they certainly missed home.

My parents came for the weekend and brought the girls back. We got quite a bit done yesterday. My living room is now blue. So much better. The kids got a lesson in where meat comes from when one of our goats we’ve been raising for meat hit the freezer. Some took that better than others. And for supper tonight? Mutiny, I’m guessing.

Ruby asked Liberty what name she wanted to use in their game. Liberty told her “Liberty”. After a few moments’ pause, Ruby told her, “I don’t know how to write that, so I just wrote ‘George’.”

It’s been in the upper 90’s at least for weeks. The central air in our house has been out of commission for two summers now – since we bought the house. It hasn’t hit the top of the priority list, and fans work. But it’s not exactly cool in my house. This is also the second summer in a row that I’ve been significantly pregnant. I didn’t realize until we took the coat racks off of the wall to paint that Blaine and my winter coats never made it off of the rack and into the tote for the summer. Something about seeing that wool winter coat of mine made me cringe. Thinking I need to take them up to the shed. Sometime around midnight, when the temps drop back into the 80’s…

There are 9 sets of bed sheets soiled from the last few days sitting in my laundry room. My living room is a beautiful blue – but torn apart like we just moved in. Twelve bookshelves sit empty and my floor bears their contents. I’d better accomplish something. A nap, perhaps?

My morning–so far.

Just an FYI, if you itch poison ivy – and try as I did not to itch it, I did – you can actually bruise your skin from itching too much. It’s an ugly scenario.

My girls are coming home tomorrow. I’m cleaning house today. You know, wouldn’t want them thinking I’ve been slacking off while they’ve been, um, slacking off.

Sunburns fade overnight. Charlotte looks mostly respectable this morning. So glad.

Sterling is knee-deep in his K4 curriculum from Rod and Staff. He does not understand why he has to follow directions. He does a great job, but crossing out that pear because it cannot be blue instead of simply coloring it green is getting to him. Compliant, yes – so long as it makes sense to him. Otherwise, you’d better explain it so that it does make sense to him. He’s so like his Daddy.

I caught Charlie on her hands and knees rocking back and forth in her bed this morning. Maybe she’ll crawl sometime soon yet.

Sterling howled when he turned on the wrong side of the hose splitter and drenched himself. Minutes later, he laughed when he drank from the house sprayer and drenched himself. I do not understand.

Roany the goat did her best to trample Ruby on her way to the milking stand this morning. Ruby was not impressed – and she informed Roany of her displeasure. Roany is scared of Ruby. Ruby’s learned the shaker paddle is her friend. Watching a 30 pound two year old still in her nightgown tell a 100-pound goat what-for is pretty stinking funny.

Somebody punch me. Just not in the nose.

Last night, contemplating such deep things (or maybe just really bored because Blaine had to work late) I had this brainstorm. Rather missing the nose ring I’ve worn for over two years, I decided to put it back in. It’s been out for two weeks. Noses heal really, really fast.

It took me a good half hour. There was blood. It. still. hurts.

But it’s back in. Next time, remind me how much that hurt. If I ever take it out again, it’s staying out.