When to step back. When to step in.

Oh my goodness, hello. Phew, there has been lots of animal drama and changes and excitement around here this past week. I'll be updating very soon, but we're still recovering and regrouping from a crazy-busy weekend. Dan put in 16 hours on Saturday alone, just working on a new project for the girls and me. And he was up again Sunday morning, before church, putting in more time. He's a good, good man. And now a very tired and sore man.

In the meantime, I'm back tracking a bit, to catch up and catch my breath...

With a house full of four girls the dynamics are very interesting to observe. The girls go through so many different phases. Even with the baby, I love seeing how one of her sisters will emerge at different stages to be the one that has what we call the "magic touch". When Birdy was in those early newborn stages, it was Mary. With her gentle hands and cooing whispers in her tiny ears. Then Emma was a master at that crawling, giggly stage--all peekaboo and belly laughs and carrying her outside on her hip to tackle morning chores. Now Birdy and Elizabeth are partners in play, though Birdy's joy when any of her sisters walks in the room is downright contagious. 

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But the same kind of dynamics happen with my older girls, too. This winter, Mary and Elizabeth were bound at the hip. There were all things dress-up, Little House on The Prairie and dance parties. And Emma was on the outside, feeling a little too old, sometimes left out, and not exactly sure how to jump in. 

In the last month or so, there's been a shift again. Mary and Emma are "grown up" best buddies. Sometimes a little too cool, oftentimes too cool for their little sister, Elizabeth, who finds herself waffling between trying to keep up with their "big girl" plans or playing "baby games" with her littlest sister.

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As a parent it's sometimes hard to watch. I want to step in and get involved, but I find it's best to sort of let things be, as long as no one is being purposely left out or hurt. As long as no one is being mean or rude, I try to let the changes play out their own way. 

But last week, my sweet Elizabeth was feeling out of sorts. Her sisters were either deep into school work, or making big plans for projects and things she wasn't involved in. I could tell she needed a little something special, just for her. 

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And so I pulled an oldie out of my parenting carpet bag. I knew she needed a project. Needed something to do with me, just the two of us. Something special. So I dug deep into my recipe box (very, very deep) and pulled out an old faded, wrinkled recipe for homemade play dough. 

It's nothing new or earth-shattering, I know. But the making of the dough, the choosing of colors, the kneading of the warm dough, was just what she needed. I've always believed there is something therapeutic about making things with kids. It softens hearts, repairs hurt feelings, brings everyone around the table, together. 

And that's just what happened. Eventually, her sisters wandered into the kitchen with us--playdough knows no age limits. "Elizabeth, can I play with the green? Elizabeth, want me to get out the cookie cutters? Elizabeth, lets see who can make the best cake out of all the colors." Suddenly the playing field was level again. Everyone was included. And Elizabeth found her place at the table again. 

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This parenting gig isn't easy. The when to step back, when to step in question always challenges me--whether its letting them work out differences, play out different relationships or solve problems. Whether it's walking a hard line or extending grace. 

But on this day, I think maybe with dough in-hand (and ground into the carpet) I got it right. 

I had to dig pretty deep for my playdough recipe. It's always nice to have it handy, so I've shared mine below. 

Click HERE to download the recipe card.

Playdough

 

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In progress: the four square garden

With every year we spend in our house, Dan tries to focus on a new gardening project each Spring. One year it was the vegetable garden, then it was supposed to be flower beds. But it turned out the vegetable garden needed more tweaking. And it still does. Gardening is such a continual learning experience. Trial and error. Jump in. See what works. Try again. 

But this year we're finally breaking ground on one project that has been continually shoved to the back burner.

my grandmother's four square garden

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We're finally putting in what we all refer to as "the four square garden". It is inspired by (though it will never be as wonderful as) "the four square garden" at my grandparents' farm, above. It is one of my favorite spots at my grandparents' home. A spot that was backdrop to many a family photograph (15 original children + their children + their children's children), a wedding photo session, my girls' favorite place to play when we lived on the farm, and it's the path everyone walks through on their way down to the swimming pool. 

Our four square will never have quite the grandeur of my grandmother's but it is the inspiration for the one we are putting in. 

And while this is a whole other train of thought...things are changing dramatically at my grandparents' place and I'm forced to let go of what was. I'm learning that I must bring those memories and experiences and plant them in my own life, and in my own home, and for my own children. No amount of change changes that.

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For now, Dan has begun to rip out and level out an existing garden that is where the four square will go. A big mounded up thing that we found out (from our neighbor who grew up in our house) was a dumping ground for the ashes from their coal stove. The garden had some pretty elements, but mostly it was overrun by bind weed--(which I'm convinced comes straight from the hand of the devil) and thistle (a farmer's foe). We moved as many plants as we could and are using the remaining bush as a central point. 

The fencing around is both because we love it, but also because we have serious chicken problems without it. Our free-range girls get around and love to pick and dig and nibble on flower heads and buds. 

Eventually, there will be four plots in each corner. And hopefully a pea gravel path in between each. 

I envision the pickets weathering to a nice grey finish. And viney things winding and wrapping their way around and through the boards. And herbs. And interesting plant varieties. 

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This weekend, we made a trek to a place I have been begging to go to since I heard about it over a year ago-- Terrain

People. Seriously. Terrain is my heaven on earth. One of those stores where you walk in and every. single. thing. fits perfectly with your style and esthetic and vision of what look you'd like in your home. 

And your garden. 

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We went for inspiration. I was hoping to bring home a few plants that might get us going. At the very least, we were ready to put in a row of plants on the outside of the fence. 

But Dan and I were both a bit overwhelmed by the experience. 

So we came home empty-handed but with a better vision for what we want to do. I have notes scribbled down on a piece of paper and photos snapped on my phone. 

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We'll definitely go back when we're a little more advanced in our project. 

This weekend, the fence was finished (except for a gate) and the tiller was repaired. (Thanks to Birdy, of course.) 

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This week, a row of day lilies will go in a row along the outside of the fence. 

We're making progress. Slowly. A labor of love and nostalgia. 

I'll keep you updated with photos as we move along. But I'd love to hear what's going on in your gardens. Flowers? Vegetables? New plans? Container gardens? I'd love to hear from you.

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how we do two

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It's become a tradition in this house that for the early birthdays, I make ice cream cone cupcakes. It's really nothing earth-shattering--just pouring the cupcake batter into cake cones, baking and frosting. I'm sure there's probably some fancy-schmancy holder out there for this job, but I just set each cone inside my cupcake tins.

The hardest part is maneuvering the cupcakes from the counter into the oven. It takes a very steady hand. I recommend holding your breath while attempting. But there's something about the cake batter baked inside those cake cones that is SO good. Seriously. I think when my birthday rolls around I just might have to choose these for myself.

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But more importantly, for the small set they make a perfect little cupcake that's easy to hold on to and devour. It's become a family tradition of sorts. 

More soon, including some pictures from my sister's on-going kitchen remodel, some guerrila goodness and other general randomness, as always!

 

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Beware the sound of silence

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Birdy is whole heartedly at the age where silence in my house means something very mischievous must be happening somewhere. 

It's no longer innocent either. 

And it usually involves markers.

You'd think I'd learn by now to keep the markers out of reach. And actually, I'm pretty sure I've made some rule about keeping markers in the metal can and keeping the can on top of the bookshelves in the school room. 

But when everyone else in the house is up to their elbows in daily art projects and sign-making for bedroom doors, and charts, and secret club sign-up sheets, it's hard to remember to always put the markers away. I guess. 

I've learned that the first place to check for her is under tables. If they're covered in a tablecloth, even more secretive and ideal.There will generally be a small collection of toys that don't belong to her. And a marker. Coloring her cheeks used to be her thing. Now, she colors her cheeks and lips, but quickly moves on to decorating the toys, too. 

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She has also decorated the sofa arm. And inside the towel cupboard in the bathroom. And of course the walls. I've come to expect the wall-decorating. 

She highlighted the bookshelf in the living room. As well as running that same highlighter along the binding of each of Dan's books on the top shelf. How kind of her. We appreciate her hard highlighting work, we do. 

Two nights ago, after her bath, she discovered the joys climbing into the dryer. To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken her this long to make the discovery. She's a child who likes a "house" to engage in all her mischievous work. It used to a cupboard in the bathroom. My clue would be the towels all over the bathroom floor. And the closed cubpoard doors. And the silence. 

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But two nights ago when she realized she could very easily climb into the dryer, and it fit several stuffed animals, and it echoed when you squealed inside? She was sold. 

When I hung up after a phone call yesterday and realized the house was silent, I began the (slightly panicked) search for Birdy. She doesn't answer when I call for her (something we're working on). And Mary couldn't find her upstairs. I couldn't find her downstairs. Or outside. 

Eventually she was discovered in the dryer. 

These are probably things I shouldn't admit openly. Losing track of my toddler. Or the damage she does while unattended. But this Birdy is a firecracker. She moves to the beat of her own drum. Determined. Strong-willed. All those things. 

And as of six days ago, facing the world as a newly crowned two year old. Here we go.

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