Headbow Momma

I am a girl. I like to look good. I like dressing up, skirts, makeup, anything sparkly etc. I like have having daughters to dress up and groom. And they already know that we accessorize with our hairbows. Maia is too cute when she asks, " Momma, I need a headbow!"

I have several friends who make bows who I have been learning from and these women are GIFTED. I am not particularly gifted in this area, my fingers tend to get in the way of one another BUT I still like to try it because it is fun and once I get on a roll, my creative juices get to flowing and I find myself improving creativity wise. The other thing about bowmaking is that it takes time and lots of different kinds of ribbon for variety.

This last Friday night, I decided to use some old silk flowers I have laying around and make up some new bows for the girls. I think I am liking this kind of bowmaking. Hotgluing some ribbon over a alligator clip and then adding a silk flower and a button doesn't take much time at all. I was really quite proud of myself when I finished. Both girls wore some to church on Sunday and I shamelessly told my oldest, Olivia, that if someone complimented her bows to tell them that her mom made them...is that bad? ROFL? I just couldn't help myself. An older girl sitting in the pew behind us (about 11 or 12) told Olivia that she liked her bows. Olivia did her duty and proudly proclaimed that her mom made them. Of course, I didn't have time to take pictures of them in her head before church--we were just a few minutes late and we were too hungry after church to snap a picture. So the pictures of the bows themselves will have to do. Not bad, right?

It's all about the DIRT

I don't mind my girls getting muddy and dirty..for the most part. I think it is funny, it does wash out and I have only had a few pair of clothes that I couldn't salvage. You noticed that I qualified my sentiment by saying, for the most part, right? What does that mean? I just mean that as long as we are not going anywhere and then they go out and ruin themselves in the mud-- it is fine, for the most part. There are some days that I say," NO DIRT!" Then Maia will say in her delicious, sweet toddler voice," Ok, Mama, I will not play in the dirt." I have told Maia over and over again that the dirt in my flower bed is off limits. She is sketchy in remembering that at times. She tries really hard to obey my request and does well for the most part--there is that phrase again.

Last week, I had a favorite friend, Jessica, over. Her cute girls and mine get along famously and I was teaching Jess how to make bread or boost her confidence in dealing with yeast more like. At one point, while we were in the kitchen inside and the girls were outside, I thought I saw dirt flying in the air out the window. But Jess and I were in the middle of some intriguing adult, mommy conversation that the brown dust particles flying thru the air somehow didn't register on my radar. Well, I think a few minutes later, my responsible Olivia came in to tell me that Maia and her friend were indeed throwing dirt from my flower garden in the air and had made a HUGE mess. I wish I had taken pictures of the mess for it was mighty and grand indeed. Sam was very good to me yesterday and decided to sweep it up for me. But it was a doozy. The whole front row of my flowers were uprooted--good thing portulaca and geraniums are hardy. Despite not capturing the mess, I did happen to digitally immortalize forever the girls disguised in dirt and some past mud encounters.

I can't remember if this is before or after Maia's timeout for pulling up Mom's flowers. The remorse on her face is just pitiful don't ya think?

Yes, folks--she isn't wearing any bottoms nor diapers. I have other pictures of her butt smudged in dirt but I won't post them here.

Notice how her little friend has an obvious, "Gee, I am sorry, Miss Tisha and Mom" look on her face. Maia needs to take lessons from her. Maybe she is suffering from pica since it looks like she ate her share of dirt.

The morning after a good bath. She is all smiles with lovely wild lion cub hair.

I am sure she felt remorse the morning after don't ya think? This is her "I have seen the error of my ways and have repented" look. BWAH HA HA! NOT!!

Olivia and Maia all muddy last October. I couldn't save Olivia's pale blue jeans in this picture. ALMOST but not quite.

Maia so happy after making a good mess.

I have a goal for the summer. To go and get muddy with them. Getting messy (but not destructive..aka --don't pull up mom's flowers) is fun and energizing to the soul--not to mention HILARIOUS.

Mommy Ears

I am grateful that I have healthy daughters that love me and want to be attached to me. I am grateful they have feelings to cry, a desire to communicate with me by and all means, breath to scream and personality to sass. BUT I would love and adore them just as much if they chose to adore me lovingly across the room, sitting quietly on the couch, wanting nothing to "eat" (aka. help mom stay busy and productive) or spill, I mean drink.




I've always loved the sound of kid noises. In high school, I remember babysitting 4 kids and friend came over to visit. Her ears couldn't take their noise, I told her that these were happy, playful sounds and to be grateful to not be subjected to the shrieking, unhappy ones. Now as a mother, I get the best of both those noisy worlds AND my ears are very often crying for mercy!

An older woman, a mother of 5 boys. They are all grown up and she is now enjoying her stage of great grandmotherhood. She reminded a group of young mothers, like myself, that all too soon that the days become extremely quiet and slow; that she finds herself relishing the sweet raucous that her great grandchildren and the young neighbor children make when they come to visit. Her ears obviously miss those sounds of a time not too far past. I need to ask her if she misses putting her sons BACK into bed a dozen times over.

I'm sure that particular moment in motherhood she doesn't crave to do over again. But even when I am tired of the pattering of little feet that should have recharging in stillness for a new day of climbing, marching, jumping, dancing and stamping out of disgust of being told to pick up toys (lest the Gobble Monster comes to eat their toys)--appreciate the littleness of their bodies that are all too fast growing. When I go to put Maia in her bed for the 32nd time (okay it was only about 10 times), I know that teeny body will someday be so big that I can't pick her up with ease. I do love the feeling of holding her--which is a blessing that keeps me from wanting to accidentally drop her on the floor instead of her soft bed after repeating it 2 hrs after she originally was put down to bed.