Tuesday, September 30, 2008


If you knit, I am betting that for you, Fall means knitting! It is the end of the warm weather where all you want to do is touch some cool cotton, and now you want to cozy up next to some warm wool. I recently taught myself how to knit, and this is my first project beyond playing around with different stitches. I am making a scarf for Libby, and while I am discovering that I got a little carried away on my cast on and it will be too wide, it is turning out rather lovely for my first thing knitted. I plan to add some flowers of different colors on the ends as soon as my friends in my knitting group teach me how=) I love to sit down with my children playing at my feet, a hot cup of peppermint tea beside me and my knitting needles in my hand.

Do you knit? What ways do you feel like creating this season?

Monday, September 29, 2008


Leaves leaves everywhere (even in Hudson's diaper and neck)! And it's not even October (yet)! I love the crunch of leaves under my feet as we go walking through the park in the cool breeze. I love jeans and bare feet. I love comfy pants. Ahh. I love Fall.


Saturday, September 27, 2008


Around here, Fall means football. Not just any football. Buckeye football. You can enjoy the beauties of the season all week long, but on Saturday, you are in the house sitting in front of the television watching the Buckeyes (or knitting, as I was doing today). One of the first things Libby said was "touchdown" (I think in her one year pictures that I took she was doing the arms up "toughdown" signal) followed by, "Go Bucks!" and "Brutus". Yeah, it's like that.

How about you? What does Fall mean in your family?

Thursday, September 25, 2008

30 Days of Fall

Once again, I appologize that I have not blogged in a while. We have taken some days to Fall clean (because I was sort of busy this Spring), and have spent a lot of time outdoors. Autumn is my very favorite season. We are actually getting an Autumn this year, too, so I am especially enamored.

This is a season of relief from the intense heat and humidity of a river city summer. It's fruit harvests, and yummy local apples. It's bunnies birthing new bunnies in the marigolds out back, and squirrels squaking at each other out front. It's sticky hands from pine cones, and dirty feet from spending a majority of the day outside. And it's beautiful oranges, yellows, reds, and browns, splayed out all around us as God shows us His love.

Here is my first picture of Fall. It sits on our table and displays Libby's treasures from our daily walks.

Happy Autumn, everyone. Enjoy the beautiful weather as we anticipate the bitter cold and blankets of snow to come.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Friday linky love

I don't have any pictures to add right now, because we are out of town visiting my in-laws. I wanted to share my favorite posts from this week, and wish everyone a love-filled weekend!

What my grandmother ate from A Sonoma Garden (from last week, but still good)
We had a weekend from Naturemama (don't we all love weekends like this?)
Discovery from Shutter Sisters
The Daily Balance of Parenting & Housework: Four Useful Reminders from Simple Mom

Check these out for a great read!

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Wow, how perceptive she is

We spent the day at my mom's house yesterday, because the Buckeyes were on (go Bucks!). Later on in the day, Libby was standing by the coffee table and looking at a mail flyer, and held it up to my mom and said, "Mamaw, this is John McCain." She had to repeat herself once so we could make sure that was what she said, and sure enough it was. She was holding a flyer of John McCain. We have never ever told her anything about him for her to know that (nor Barack Obama, for that matter). After we took the look of astonishment off our faces, I said, "Libby where did you see him?" She held up the flyer and said, "He's right here!" (duh, Mama) and I said, "Did you see him on TV?" and she said, "Yeah, he said 'I'm John McCain, and I apooped.'" (refering to, "I'm John McCain and I approve of this message"). We rolled into unbelieving laughter. I mean, she's not even 2 1/2! I don't have the TV on during the day, but Scott puts it on in the mornings while he and Libby wait for me and Hudson to get up. I still can't believe how amazingly perceptive she is. Unbelievable. So, pay attention to what your kiddos are paying attention to!

Friday, September 5, 2008

Mini-me and great cathedrals

So yeah, God basically made a miniature copy of me when He made Libby in my womb. Here's proof. (side note: I have finally gotten used to seing that poor little gap in her mouth)

And, I got this in an email from a friend of mine this morning, and though I would share it for all of you beautiful (even if tired and ragged) mamas who happen to visit my blog.


It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'

Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this ? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel'? I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please'. I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package and said, 'I brought you this'. It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription. 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees'.

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names

These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished

They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.' I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard
God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day,
even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked is too small for Me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder, as one of the people who show up at a job they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime, because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours, and presses all the linens for the table.'
That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then if there Is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there!

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM!

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Love fest

I sat down for a nice cup of chamomile tea yesterday, and the love fest (you know, the one that always occurs when Mama takes a time out) began. Libby just adores Hudson, and she cannot keep her hands off of him. It's kind of funny watching her try. She just starts to wiggle and inch closer to him before she finally gives in to the urge and hugs or kisses or pats his back.

She loves to sit behind him and wrap her arms around him.
He assumes his new retreat position.

And he's off.
And, as some love stories do, it always ends with this. And Mama steps in.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Well, not crawling, but...

Rolling! Hudson has discovered the fine art of rolling. I mean, he has been rollong over for many many months now, but he has just figured out that rolling can get him somewhere! He figured it out this evening, and Scott and I are cracking up. Libby never did this, ever. We set him up, then in a matter of minutes he's in the other room, stuck under the dining room chairs and his high chair.

And he's this far away from us (not great picture quality, forgive me).
He will not just sit down, he is constantly trying to figure out how to crawl. I guess this rolling thing will have to do.