may in maine

is sometimes gray. and cold. and rainy.

~(for weeks)~

it didn't stop us

from enjoying the beach:

bubbles, ballgames, birthday cake

cookout, scraped knees

cutest kids

sun was optional.

~we had tractors~

Ringmaster in a Circus of Sloths

The title of this post is how I identify myself in the mornings: as in, I am the ringmaster trying to get the sloths to shake a leg, stay focused, get their stuff done, stop teasing, pick up their______, find their _______, brush their _______, and do it all before we leave at __:___. Sometimes I succeed at getting them out the door without yelling. Not very often.

new lovely plush toy, Ella,

made for me by a young seamstress.

~LOVE~

So being a systems girl, I like to try new things and tweak the existing system, particularly when it's a faulty one. Only reminding a person once. Throwing a boot. Leaving the house and sitting in the car (this only works when I don't have to be at work myself). Writing lists on a slate. Staying in bed and avoiding the whole business, my favorite option (this one works great, but only if Mr. Crafty is getting them out the door).

arugula and beet salad with red onions, pine nuts,

kicking vinaigrette=mind blowing eating experience

Also being a teaching type of girl, who is married to a teacher and the daughter of a teacher, I always assume that if they're not getting it, this is because of something I have or haven't done. Am I asking too much, too little? What's appropriate for the 12 year-old vs. the eight year-old, and can I stand the discussion about what is/isn't fair? (My favorite answer is always: "Of COURSE I wouldn't dream of treating you equally! That would be terribly unfair!!") How can I coach them to be successful in whatever we're trying to do? What can I do differently to engineer the outcome I want?

Finally, we've already established that the demands of the mornings are my least favorite part of the job we call motherhood. Cleaning up vomit is a close second, but thankfully it doesn't happen daily.

someone knows me well:

a birthday box full of the most delicious stationery

So now we come to a new system, on day 2. Knock on wood, no yelling either day. Each boy has a checklist: things to do appear up top, just under the departure time of the day (which changes based on whether Mr. or Mrs. is driving in).

"Think through your day and all parts of it. What will you need?" This question is followed by the items a boy might need for his day. I think it's an essential question because really, that's exactly what I ask myself when I am leaving the house for the day.

They seem to like checking the boxes off. Perhaps it's because they go to a Waldorf school.

The following two sentences, on the reverse side of the letterpress Thank You/Birthday set, seem to also relate to what we've been speaking of here:

It's all a little much, thanks

two boys, two girls,

all that hair

We are moving the boys into two separate spaces. It's the right time and all that. But man. I had no idea the time that it would consume. Essentially we are losing a boatload of storage space, our office, and guest room all at once and condensing it all into one small room. It's been a good time to purge!

So there is not much going on around here between me and the sewing machine, for starters. Creative endeavors? Ha. Packing boxes a bit at a time is more like it. And I hate the chaos of my house right now, so I can't even really get excited about photos lately. I am misplacing things left and right and feeling a bit nuts. Most of the creative conversations I have lately go like this:

J: What day should we rent the wallpaper steamer?

me: Um, Sunday? And then we can spackle the walls, right?

J: Sure, but let's get all the pictures down.

I: OK, I'm off to paint that dresser now. I just finished sweeping the attic so that we can move some stuff up there. But first, a bunch of trash and yard sale stuff has to come down.

there was this wonderful purple glittery ball,

that did not photograph properly

It's like this elaborate game of strategy, where every action depends on many other small actions being performed in the right sequence. I'm terrible at this but thankfully I am married to a patient strategist who can just tell me what to do when. Add this to the fact that I usually start getting cranky with summer at about this time anyway and you will have a picture of how I am approaching my limit with summer and her lack of form and general level of chaos. (oops, I guess I am early with my whining, just like everything else this year.)

In other news, Sylvan turned 8! (Remember 7?) We had a really glorious day of quintessential summer: bowling, followed by swimming and dinner and cake at the lake with several dear friends and family. It was my first experience of big ball bowling and not candlepin, which is a unique Northeastern phenonmenon. And here is what I think of the big balls: Really Difficult, Unwieldy, and Heavy! (There was a one-armed bowler there who really blew my mind!) Potential for bodily injury is ramped WAY up.

Have we shared with you the wonders of a watermelon in the lake? For sport? It is a short-cut to pure joy and tons of giggling. You can toss it in the air or propel it underwater! Sometimes it surprises you and pops up in unlikely places! This was also part of our festivity! (No you don't need to grease it first, this sounds to me like a mess on your bathing suit.)

And we had to get the requisite dock-jumping pics!

Are you a leg-out-to-the-side jumper?

Or more of a graceful beauty?

Perhaps you're more inclined to take a leisurely stroll off the edge:

At the end of the day, it was golden, and I couldn't stop taking photos of so many beautiful faces. Here is the birthday boy, newly brave with dogs and water on his face while swimming.

a busy day of owls and skiing

If you listen carefully, you can hear the announcer saying his time at the end of the run! Turn up your sound!

This Saturday was perhaps the last day of skiing at our local ski mountain. It was the culminating parade of Zoomers, the junior racers, who were decked out in their colorful finery and tooting horns. (No pictures, I didn't think I had the camera...but I really DID. I just didn't know it.)

After the parade: a family fun race, in honor of Sally Deaver (an Olympic skier whose parents left a trust to the Ragged Mountain Ski Club!). Sadly, Mom failed in procuring a "low bib number" (which, if you are a librarian means something entirely different than if you are a ski racer), so Sylvan's number was 78. He spent a lot of time in line up top, tossing snowballs at other boys while he waited for his number to come up.

Barred Owl

Saw Whet Owl

Following a beautiful morning of warm sunshine and skiing, we hustled over to the Owl Birthday Party. The birthday girl wanted to be seated on Jonas's lap during the owl presentation by Kate of the Chewonki Foundation. In a word: Cute.

We hear recordings of owl calls, we heard about what they eat (and what eats them), how they got injured and ended up at Chewonki, etc. Owls are put together so amazingly! Do you know that their ears are located at different levels on their head? One is higher than the other so they can echolocate with precision!

This sweet dress was sitting ever-so attentively in front of us. I am a sucker for these girly dresses! It was a full and lovely day and I came home with a little sun on my cheeks.

When Multitasking Makes You A Jerk

Guess WHOOOOOOO's turning 5?

The theme of the party is owls, her favorite bird!

Sometimes I am just so darn efficient. Yesterday, upon returning home with just one boy (the other two were having dinner elsewhere), I was juggling several things: the mail, my multiple bags, etc. The Little Magpie spotted something I would have put in the recycling right away: a Sesame Street activity pack promotional thing, lots of bright glossy pictures, Elmo, etc. He hopped right into a chair to examine "his" mail, while I got started on dinner.

she and Syvan correspond, so this seemed perfect

Are you able to spell with accuracy while sauteeing vegetables for soup, make a wholesome and attractive meal, set a beautiful table, manage an unbelievably splitting headache, and balance a cold pack on your head while doing the former? I was not only spelling out the words and numbers of our address, somewhat distractedly, but also providing visual reminders of what certain letters look like. ("D is like a straight line with a half moon attached to it...W is like an upside down mountain...") This is the type of spelling bee that would get really interesting and I am sure that many mothers would excel at! (I am sorry dads, but we do know that you are not that great at multitasking but really rock at hunting wooly mammoths and playing basketball.)

she is also a button-collector,

so here is a nice vintage one that looks like an owl's eye

Later, it came to our attention that Sylvan was writing his address, name, and phone number down so he could stuff it into an envelope to reply: "YES! Please send me the Sesame Street Activity pack for $3.50 and sell my name to lots of other companies so we will receive a lot more junk mail!!!!" (Oh, junk is in the eye of the beholder, I know.)

a pattern from my birthday gift from Poppie,

Amanda Blake Soule's A Handmade Home

It was so adorable to see his enthusiasm and diligence at all that writing, and his absolute certainty that the $3.50 would be worth it. And I had totally missed all this while it was happening only a few feet away from me, because I was so intent on my pain and my plan for the meal and the evening.

interior fabric so fun, like buttons,

from (where else?) Alewives Fabrics!

I am not beating myself up about it because there are so many many many moments like these, that I am sure I will catch the next one, and maybe miss the two after that, and hopefully catch some more in the future. (Michael Chabon, oh, another geeky librarian crush, writes of this phenomenon in his latest book, Manhood for Amateurs). Was dinner that important that I couldn't stop for 5 minutes? Was my headache so awful that I couldn't show some interest in Sylvan's agenda? Actually, it really was, but still.

looks as though he's in a stiff wind

And because I do have a FEW male readers, though I suspect they are all related to me, I will mix this post up with some pics of our own Chia Obama! Picture me singing this song (just the first part of the video) to the words of "chiOBAAAAAMA" when I greet our president each morning.

I was not the one responsible for the above,

I will have you know

a little male-pattern baldness

and look at how that ear hair is coming in!

Thursdays (and Birthday Part 2)

On Thursdays, we head to our little local ski mountain. Apparently it's the only ski mountain on the East Coast where you can view the ocean from the top. I am a non-skier, but I sit in the Lodge and read articles about youth in libraries and their research skills while knitting and talking to friends. I liken myself to a Roadie for a band, you know the person who handles the gear and the amps and the bottles of Vodka for the musicians? Except I am handling bags of boots and helmets and dry socks and neckwarmers ("warmneckers") and snacks, snacks, snacks (not Vodka). Plus my knitting and reading and whatever else.

The kids get out early on Thursdays, so for a few hours things are pretty mellow and it's a bunch of people I know. And you know, I *am* sending off my babies up the mountain without me. But that's the thing, is that it's a perfect way to gain that bit of independence: to explore the world and navigate lines and experience the injustice of teenagers who sometimes cut in line and take another run and ride up the lift and chat with someone you don't know and just keep going.

Because I have never been that worried about my kids talking to strangers; I want them to know how to talk to people in the big world and to know who feels like a safe person to approach. What I do hope is that they would know who and how and when to ask for help if they need it.

Today, adorably, Sylvan tacked himself on to a group of middle school students from our school because his usual ski buddies were not around. And it was really sweet to see all these extremely cool people taking the time to include him. At one point, he was skiing extra fast to catch up with a favorite older girl and he took a spill on the mountain! But two of the coolest cool boys happened to be right there to help him up, collect his poles, and encourage him. While one skied ahead to tell me, the other skied down slowly with Sylvan. I love that these older cool boys had the chance to show their big-hearted kindness today.

My sweet boy drawing his robots; this one is a collaboration. We have been inspired by the movie Robots and also by Miss Smith's wonderful robots.

Oh. And this is Punk Ida. Riding in her Red Wagon. Random, I know, but you see these kinds of things around our house sometimes. Like the Turkey Baster.

Here are two more pictures from my special day. If you look closely, you can see I am wearing my sweet felt pin from MiesMama! (Cake was lemon with vanilla bean frosting. Mmmmm.)