Our Saturday Started Very Poorly

Here's an excerpt from an email I wrote my cousin about our Saturday morning. I decided it was blog worthy. Enjoy!


"Here's my Stupid Saturday story and it's only 8:37....
I wake up and immediately am struck with nausea. Bleh, I roll over and try to sleep it off since Seth is up with the boys. They're too loud to fall back asleep, so I just lay there and the nausea fades and settles into queasy, then finally makes it to unsettled. Unsettled I can do. Until Seth comes in the room with a pancake and I open my eyes to him sticking it under my nose. I sharply inform him of how I feel, the Unsettled jumps back to Queasy, and I roll back over and listen to the commotion again.


Jet is yelling and calling and hollering because his movie is nearly over and Seth doesn't know that you have to hover over the button for 5 minutes before the end of the movie to shut it off in an approved fashion before it hits the credits (he hates credits, he'll miss the last bit of the movie to keep the credits from rolling. Weirdo...). 


So, Jet is carrying on, and Seth doesn't get what his point is so he's hollering back for Judah to "calm down" and "knock it off" and "yada yada". Then I hear Leviathan the Snarky one cough-cough-gag-spill-splat. Seth demands to know "What happened?" from the next room, despite Leviathan not be able to respond for language reasons. I could tell him though: Leviathan puked. But I don't, I lay there and realize I have to get over my queasy sensation to help Seth, who has now discovered the puke. I enter a scene with pale, pancake and snot puke all over the table, the chair, and the floor. Leviathan has miraculously managed to keep himself puke free, except for his pancake which he is wrestling towards his mouth as Seth attempts to snatch it away. 


"You *can't eat it*, Leviathan! You can't!" 


Then Seth, poor Seth, keeps taking breaks and holding his shirt over his face because of "the smell" (he mutters again and again). Me? I don't smell a puke smell (to my relief). I smell pancake. Just very strong pancake. So I tell Seth to go to work and I begin cleaning up pancake puke. Leviathan, meanwhile, has received a puke-free pancake and is cramming his mouth and running around the house. He's had diarrhea for a few days now because of his allergies/runny nose and I guess he just had too much snot in him to start the day with a load of pancake. I was apparently queasy because I was extremely thirsty. We both seem to be doing fine... Leviathan is hanging out on the bed next to me, being adorable and very squishy, and I'm thinking about eating pancakes. :) I think I need a bit more water first. 

Okay, that got tangenty. The point is, our Saturday started very poorly. I guess it's all uphill from here. Unless I'm struck with Nausea again. Leviathan the Puker is bouncing on my bed and talking about cars and blue and byebye. :) "

Small Celebrations

Last Sunday was Easter. I plopped some eggs in various bushes around the yard and watched the boys hunt them. 2 boys, 27 eggs (2 remained unfound until this morning), 10 minutes. Done. Then came the feasting. 

"Momma! Take a picture of my candy!" 

It didn't take long for them to distrust the Jelly Bellys. And who can blame them? I've said it once, I'll say it again- those suckers taste how shampoo smells. Yum, let's chow down. Or spit them out, saliva coated and half chewed, in a blob on the concrete. As long as you miss mommy's yoga mat, all is fine.

The stickers were not a hit. What was I thinking? M&Ms or stickers? Stickers discarded. They're now stashed in my purse for desperate moments at the grocery store.

Honestly, holidays are not a big deal for our family. We're not against them, and I get why others get involved and love the festivities. But to us, making a big deal over Christmas, New Year's, Valentines, Easter... even birthdays... they just don't make sense.

I guess our family style gravitates toward taking simple moments throughout the days and week to celebrate, to draw attention to, to be thankful for. 

I love snuggling up on my purple chair, listening to NPR whilst crocheting some squares and slurping my coffee.

I love just sitting outside and watching the birds swoop and soar, hearing the wind woosh through the leaves and seeing them dance across the brilliance the blue sky is offering today. 

I love interviewing Jet and having no idea what answers he'll be shooting out today. 

"Hey, Jet, what are you thinking about?"

"Mm, I was just thinking about how beautiful the sky is. Look at that, Momma! Is that a blue sky?! Yes, it is!!" and then off he dashes, to go dig in the dirt and wack at my azaleas with sticks.

I love resting in bed and opening my eyes to Leviathan's pitter-patter feet slapping across the floor. I love seeing his eyes bright and dazzling and the grin that breaks on his face as he exclaims, "Mom-MA!" I love that his only reason for popping in the room is to give me a hug, receive a kiss, and then he gleefully scampers off.

I love when Seth comes home for the day and immediately insists we go for a walk. I love walking with Seth and talking with Seth about altogether everything and nothing. 

I love the energetic buzz that fills my house just after I've cleaned it all day and just before friends and visitors arrive. 

I love driving with the windows down, the sun shimmering across everything, the smell of Virginia in spring, and the breeze making my hair a disgraceful mess. 

I love doing yoga outside. That doesn't happen enough. But it happened on Sunday.

(Plank...

 Upward facing dog...

Downward facing dog.)

The world is beautiful upside down. Everything looks bigger and somehow the colors become dazzling. Just something else to celebrate.

"The heavens are telling the glory of God;

and their expanse is declaring the word of His hands."

Psalm 19:1

Buick Buyer = Bon-voyage, Buick Beauty!

We have a buyer for the Buick!

And he has a buyer as well.

Turns out an antique car dealer in North Carolina "knows" a guy in Sweden who collects ancient antique Buicks. It's a lovely feeling knowing the most gorgeous lawn ornament in the world is going to an enthusiast. 

Seth and I certainly qualify as enthusiasts, but not when it comes to old cars, necessarily. He's primarily a BMW-driving fast on winding back roads-Chipotle-Jessica kind of enthusiast. And I'm a crochet-coffee&chocolate-natural birth-sunshiney day with a good book-Chipotle-Seth kind of enthusiast. So we have some things in common. Buicks just aren't one of them. Despite the awesome presence of this old car, the responsible thing was to sell the Buick Beauty.

As soon as the brakes are fixed and a couple of trips around the block are documented, we'll be saying farewell to this '49er. We've had some amazingly talented friends photograph it (I intend to get those framed- you can see some of them here: Ruin (by Still Life Images), but I felt compelled to take some shots of my own. I may get the boys in some, since they're too young to remember this stately old car. 

"Puuuuuush!" said the Little One. And then he pushed a mighty push.
Yet the Buick would not be moved.

Once the Buick is on it's voyage to Sweden (I'm a little jealous, actually. I wanna go to Sweden. What the heck, Buick? Show off) we'll be putting that money toward a heating/ac unit in our house (responsible and boring) and the rest of the funds are going towards our '86 BMW e30 (responsible, but infinitely more fun). I'm not a BMW enthusiast like my charming husband, but I do think the e30 qualifies as my favorite car of all time.

Perhaps the next thing to photograph is our e30... we'll frame those too.

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