It’s a sad state of affairs.

So I’m sitting here, staring at “Enter a post title” followed by a blank white page and I’ve realized something. My funny got up and left. Somewhere, in the stress that is life right now, my sense of humor snuck out the back without so much as a farewell.

It’s a sad state of affairs.

So, on that note, I’m planning a trip north to visit my parents next week. A good dose of my momma should help, I’m thinking.

I’m painting the kitchen a bright sunny yellow. This fabric, made into a sling for another, inspired my labors:

With white trim and gray cabinets, it’s turning out just how I’d hoped. The last coat is on the walls and I’m looking forward to putting everything back in it’s place. We haven’t eaten at the table in three days. Charlotte even patted the floor next to me and told Blaine she’d made a spot for him. Such generosity.

My laundry room is nearing completion. For those of you local folk, you know how long this road has been. We’re approaching 2.5 years. It has walls, paint, and outlets. I do a double take every time I step out there.

Charlotte turned two on Wednesday. Pierce turns one on Monday. Pierce is sleeping all night, I have too a few times, and it felt wonderful. Last night, not so much. Eden was gone to a sleepover, Ruby slept in Eden’s bed, and sometime around 2am Sterling was in my room in hysterics because Ruby was sleeping in his spot on his bed. When asked this morning about it, Ruby said she’s not sure what happened. She didn’t know she wasn’t in Eden’s bed until morning. A mattress trundle-style and a squishy brother to land on cushioned her fall enough to keep her asleep in the roll-off. Sterling slept in Eden’s bed after that. Ruby asked if Eden could go somewhere again sometime soon, so that she can try again.

I’ll take photos of the kitchen once I get it put back together and scrubbed. You can’t imagine how much dirt can land on one floor in three days when it can only be minimally swept. I’m amazed we have any left in the yard.

My Job, According to Ruby.

Ruby had a startling observance yesterday. I was hanging up wet laundry to dry and she was ‘helping’.

“You’re lucky, Momma.”

Lucky is her new word. Everyone is far more lucky than she in her pessimistic worldview.

“How’s that.?”

“You get to sit at the computer and click, click, click while all of us have to do chores and clean and…”

“I don’t do anything around here?”

“Not really. We have to do it all.”

Having just cooked a roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, cauliflower, and broccoli for supper, followed by rhubarb cheesecake for dessert – all from scratch – and now I was doing a load made up of all children’s laundry, I took slight offense at this view of hers.

“Who feeds you?”

“You. But that’s not really work. I like to cook.”

“Who does your laundry?”

“Well… you do. But mostly we have to do all the work.”

“I’ll remind you of that in about 20 years when you’re sitting on your backside all day while your small children bring you bon-bons and truffles.”

Ten.

Friday Blaine and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary.

A friend took the kids Friday and Saturday. We stayed home and wondered what on earth we’ll do when the kids are grown. It was so… quiet. No one woke me up at 4am. I got more hours of sleep straight than I have since before Charlotte was born. We sat on the porch and visited without a single interruption. We set up pop cans and shot them full of holes, just for the fun of it.

We had a lovely time. And then, we went and picked up the kids. I’m just not good at this whole “no kids” thing. Life without them is, well, boring.

No offense to my dear husband. Ten years, six kids, nine houses, four states… life together has been anything but boring. We been blessed beyond measure with this big family of littles. I can’t imagine doing this without him. I love that man.

Jen’s Wreaths

Edited to add a winner: Julia, whose comment, "What an awesome giveaway! Just looking at them got me so excited for this winter!! They're all so pretty and festive - I like them all! This one is fun: http://www.jenswreaths.com/shop/christmas-wreaths/24-inch-wreaths/dads-flannel-shirt-plaid-christmas-wreath-24-inch/" won! I used Random.org to generate a winner. I need your full name/address and I'll send it on to Jenny. Congratulations! Let me know what you think when you get it? I can't wait to hear how beautiful it is!

I love Christmas. It’s the only holiday I decorate for, (something about a lack of time and energy to do any others) and, if you’ve been reading this blog for very long at all, you’ve seen photos of our scraggly “Charlie Brown” trees we’ve harvested from our pasture.

Jenny from Jen’s Wreaths harvest a far prettier variety than anything I’ve come up with. I heard from her earlier this week and she’s graciously agreed to give one Christmas wreath away to one of my readers. I’ve been trying to pick my favorite one. This one is awfully pretty. So is this one. I love this one. Beautiful.

Head over there, pick out your favorite, and let me know which one you like best? I’ll randomly pick one comment on Wednesday 9/26 and Jen’s Wreaths will send you a traditional wreath when they ship them out in November.

There’s nothing “Charlie Brown” about that.

Realization of the day:

Wash the ceiling fans. They look great, and stay clean for a LOT longer than anything else I clean in this house. The kids can’t reach them!

Just another day.

Bedtime is chaos around here. No matter how hard I try, it can’t seem to be any other way.

“Pajamas and teeth, everyone.”

“Why aren’t you in you pajamas?”

 

“Are my teeth clean?”

“No. What did you brush them with? Cake?!”

“I didn’t brush them yet.”

“Then why did you ask if they were clean?”

“I thought maybe they would be clean and I didn’t have to brush them.”

“Let me explain what ‘lying’ is, dear child…”

 

“I can’t find my pajamas.”

“Did you look in your pajama drawer?”

“No.”

 

“I can’t brush my teeth. I can’t find my toothbrush.”

Or even better… “I couldn’t find my toothbrush so I used yours, Momma.”

It’s just chaos. By then end, both Blaine and I are hollering up the stairs to get the light off, stop talking, and no one had better be down those stairs until morning. So next time we’re out for Mom’s Night Out, you know why I procrastinate going home until it’s an obscene time for children to be awake. I just don’t want to come home too early and get sucked in.

Operation: Pierce

Night 2 of Operation: Pierce Sleeps at Night had me shaking my head at why I’d been getting up, feeding a baby, and putting him back into his bed again every 2 or so hours for 346 days. (Just for the record, I did that in my head. Then I got out a calculator, actually added it up, and came up with the exact same number. Sometimes I’m amazed to find a few brain cells are still alive and kicking in the right direction.)

He cried once. For less than 15 minutes.

Night 3 was more of the same. He cried once and got over it fairly fast. I didn’t get up.

Sleep, my friends, is a wonderful thing. I’ll let you know how wonderful just as soon as I retrain MY body not to wake up every two hours.