FIFTEEN

My husband does dangerous things. Boy Scouts, he is willing to risk making me a widow to do neat activities.

2016 week fifteen

I was extra in love with my children this week, except one day in particular. Refiners fire days reveal many improvements I need to make.

Apparently my milk had gone bad. I discovered this when I attempted to make yogurt and upon heating, my milk instantly curdled. Not about to waste 6 cups of milk, I added salt and 13 herbs from my garden (I counted, and this wasn't even all that I had growing!! That's probably ridiculous. I guess I have a thing for herbs.) and strained it through a cheese cloth.

And viola! Farmers cheese. It made an excellent lunch with some homemade bread, aged gouda (OH MY CHEESE HEAVEN) and grapes. You can buy this gouda at Costco, and I highly recommend that you do.

At the library looking so big and grown up.

My chard is a bit ridiculous too. This plant is 2 years old. I cannot keep up with it. It's currently pushing 3 feet tall. I cut off as many leaves as I can at one time and in two weeks it looks like this again. It's magical. Unfortunately, it's chard and not like tomatoes or raspberries or something that is the amazingly fruitful part of my garden. 

Dirty pup rolled in the compost twice. She got a bath and then moped all afternoon.

This was that day I was referencing. I wish I could say that this was the first bowl Vera broke... that day. In addition to this, there were at least 10 meltdowns from V, one meltdown from me, several time outs, an early nap time, and many attempts on the dogs life (kicking, pushing, throwing, etc). Me, ripping a towel off the dog, "What are you doing?!" V, "I was just trying to kill the dog." Then she slowly moved her head (so slowly I didn't notice) while I was just freaking TRIMMING her hair. And well, now she looks a bit like Christopher Robin. But that's not bad. It's easy for her to pull off because she's cute (not this day, but most every other day) and she likes the idea of having Snow White hair, until 5 minutes later when she angrily wants Pocahontas hair, or Mulan hair,  or Elsa or Anna hair. 

A pretty fancy fort for a play day this week. 

Rapunzel hair. She was thrilled. She loved it so much. But it kept getting snagged on corners whereupon she would collapse into a sobbing heap. Something must have been going on this week. Either she's growing, or she's not feeling well or something. The poor thing was completely out of control of herself all week and acting super naughty. Maybe I should go give her a hug.

A Rapunzel hair compromise, and then painting. "Just like Rapunzel!"

My big gorgeous 6 month old Theodore enjoying some spring afternoon fresh air.

My Christopher Robin child. 

She loves squeezing into this 18 month outfit. You're pushing 3 Vera. It's time to retire this.

Classy.

Lemongrass ginger grilled salmon tacos with avocado and cilantro and chili lime grilled corn. Matt said, "This is why I hate going out to eat." and my heart went all a-flutter.

We went to a dairy farm out in Plano to buy some raw milk. They were sold out so we got some cheese and butter. But at least we got to look at cows and wrangle children away from the electric fence. And it was one of those Texas days that make your whole soul sing. 

All the kids got drinkable yogurt and my gormandize child ate hers and then finished off everyone else's. 

Then everyone went to play at a huge amazing park, and then go to bed early and exhausted.

V only gets to watch shows on the weekend. Here we are all snuggled watching the first half of Pocahontas. I only cried twice, thankyouverymuch.

After a rainy day we had some minestrone, garlic bread, and a salad for dinner. The minestrone was heavy on the cheese, clearly.

Quotes:

I overheard Vera speaking in gibberish to her giraffe. Then she paused and said, "Giraffe, 'yoga' in French means 'cheese filth.'"

"Mama, you are a silly muff."

"Mmmmm. Mama, it smells like candy in here because you are going to give me candy for my birthday. Is it my birthday now?"

"No bite Frida! Mama, she's being a turd of biting!"

"Oh Mama, will you help me find Prince Eric, please?!"

"Look at all those leaves! They are going to turn into my friends and then I am going to eat them allllllllll up!"

Me, "One, two, buckle my shoe."
Vera, "One, two, three, buckle my (it's not going to be what you think it will be) shirt! One, two, six, buckle my carseat!"

Stories:

So after months of not wearing or touching the grey dress, (you know the one. The ugly tshirt cut off thing) I took it out of her over stuffed dress up basket and tossed it. I'm not kidding, not even 6 hours later she's in a heap crying about where did her dress go, why is it gone, she loves it so much, she wants to wear it. It had been months. MONTHS! It was trash to begin with! Now it's gone, and like the cheap brown stuffed bear that had a hole in it that we received from the doctor, it has received sainthood. "Where is my bear?" "Where did it go Vera?" "In the trash. Why did the garbage man take it away." "Why?" "Why? Why is it gone Mama?" We have this conversation every couple weeks.  Dumb bear. I didn't want to keep a trash bear and I didn't want to keep a trash shirt, and now they are immortalized and sanctified.

This week, Vera's favorite thing has been for me to tell her stories about her being naughty. She makes up imaginary situations of naughtiness and wants to hear all about how she gets in trouble. She is transfixed and just revels in them. I think this is strange. Perhaps not though. Maybe she's trying to  create a coherent world by playing out scenarios in stories that reinforce rules in real life by hearing about how Vera would get in trouble if she spit her food at Mama, or pooped on the carpet. I do not love telling these stories, though I have to admit, Mama in the story is very calm and collected and comports herself flawlessly. So maybe I should use these as times when I can reflect upon and reinforce how I should handle naughtiness?

And a funny anecdote from nursery:
Vera is pestering her friend by touching her hair and not stopping even when her friend (Jane, sorry Erika) has asked her to.
Nursery leader, "Veronica! You need to stop. Keep your hands to yourself."
Veronica stops, and then starts touching her friend with her feet.
The text I received said, "Your daughter is too smart for her own good."
Yes, I will agree with that. Impish little smarty pants.