Enclave

That’s the word of the day, folks: Enclave.

It’s a distinct territory or social unit within the boundaries of another territory.

Besides the fact that it’s an awesome sounding word, and should really be reintroduced into daily conversation, this word makes me think of home. It’s that place that only belongs to you and a select few others; hopefully a place where you feel safe, happy, loved, and challenged. One of the awesome things about being a wife and a mother, is that I am the one who gets to set the mood and direction for my household. My actions directly affect whether or not home is going to be a peaceful space that my husband and children want to come back to at the end of the day. Not that they wouldn’t want to come back with the way I can cook, but I can’t imagine how rough it would be to get off work or school and not want to come home to a stressful situation. I’m reminded of this responsibility as I spend more time fitting into my new roles, and I know that even if the laundry doesn’t get done, I want my house to be a peaceful place. FYI: this blog was more for me than you. Selfish of me, I know.

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To Do:

suck the helium out of your daughter’s old birthday balloons and sing to her. She may be indifferent to the tonal changes in you voice, but I promise you’ll get a kick out of yourself.

So apparently, there’s this place socks go to. I’m not sure where it is, or how they get there, but somewhere there is a giant room full of mismatched socks. When I still lived at home with my parents, all my siblings knew where that room was because I kept losing my socks. If you share a house and a laundry room with nine other people, there’s bound to be at least one person with a sock-vendetta in the laundry room at any given time. I was quite relived once I got married and moved in with AJ to find that he had no idea where this room was either, and so we lived many blissful years of matched socks. The end.

oh wait, we had a baby. Not only does she know where this room is, she aggressively searches for socks to put there. When I was folding laundry this afternoon, she crawled up and snatched one out of the pile and headed off to find a suitable portal to the sock room.

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Childhood Revisited

One of the best parts about being a parent is that you get to do all the things that adults are too old for but are still great fun.

Case in point: bubbles. Need I say more? This afternoon I got a bubble wand at Target and when AJ and I got home we took Violet out to the park to introduce her to the wonders of bubbles. I am not at all embarrassed to admit that we probably had more fun than she did because we go to do all the bubble-making. We took turns waving the bubble wand to make bubbles while the other one held Violet and ran after to bubbles to try and pop them.

When I was young enough to earn my Grandma’s nickname of “Peawee”, I remember playing in the park with my parents when they had just gotten a bubble maker. I’m not sure what it was called, but it involved using nylon cord to form the bubble shapes and the bubbles were the sizes of small cars. When you’re two or three years old, and you’re chasing after a bubble five times your size–its amazing. As you can tell, this obviously had a strong impression on me.

Other great things about childhood that adults don’t do but still like:

pushup popsicles

playing in puddles

make-believe games

couch-cushion forts in the living room.

reading in bed with a flashlight.

sleepovers.

running around naked.

mud pies

splashing in the bath

building forts in the woods.

playing hide and seek

summer break

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Best Buds

Right now, AJ and Violet are playing hide-and-seek via Violet hiding AJ’s face under a shirt and ripping it off when he says, “Where’d Daddy go?” Earlier, they were practicing and perfecting their fake belly laughs.

She’s in a pretty good mood for just having a nebulizer shoved in her face for 10 minutes. She’s pretty sick right now, so I took her to the doctor today and they gave me a nebulizer to take home so we could give her respiratory therapy three times a day. Poor baby. I know what you’re thinking, “Swine Flu!” Calm down. She’s actually doing ok, and I’m pretty sure it’s not swine flu.

Great, now you’re all freaking out.

Anyway, if you think about it, send up a prayer to The Man upstairs. My 21-year-old cousin died last Friday in a tragic accident and my whole extended family is still reeling.There are 45+ people on my dad’s side of the family just in my dad’s siblings, spouses, and their children, but there was only one Stuart Robertson.

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Here’s to my day

Here’s to my sibling that wrote “Hi” on my windshield with pieces of tortilla.

Here’s to the man out walking with a walkman and headphones.

Here’s to my daughter who stole her friend’s teething cookie and put the whole thing in her mouth till it dissolved.

Here’s to the little boy at the grocery store that made my daughter laugh.

Here’s to my husband who smacked his head on a doorjam today at work.

Here’s to my sister-in-law who named her son today; Ethan Pace.

Here’s to the cat my daughter loves.

Here’s to me holding Violet while I vacuumed to keep her from being scared of the vacuum cleaner.

Here’s to my brother’s girlfriend for forgetting her phone…again.

Here’s to friends at small group.

Here’s to family at small group.

Here’s to my life.

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Great things that come in 4’s

A four leaf clover

The Beatles

The Indiana Jones series

The Gospels

Four horsemen of the Apocalypse

North, South, East, West

Four chambers in a heart

Four seasons of the year

The number of movements in a symphony

Four suits of playing cards

The Fantastic Four

A quartet

Players needed in the game of Foursquare

The Libby brothers.

That’s right–Violet is still the only girl cousin. My sister-in-law had her baby this morning,and her track record is still going strong: boy #4. Here’s a cute picture of Violet and her new little cousin who she wanted nothing to do with.

Cousins

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random

Violet has a booster seat/highchair now, so she sits at the table with us during dinner. I made her some spinach/banana/rice cereal stuff.  Tonight we all held hands and prayed before the meal; AJ’s big hands, Violet’s tiny chubby hands, and my medium-sized hands. The first of many.

I bought paint today. So excited. The guest bathroom is going to be blueishy, Violets room is going to be winnie-the-poo-y, the hallways are going to be creamy goldish, and the master bath is going to be a lighter green version of our bedroom walls. Now I am looking for some glass tile pieces to glue to the mirrors for a faux frame.

Violet stayed in the nursery the whole time we were at MOPS today (Yay). Thats because I told them not to try changing her diaper and also there were new toys. When I came to get her, several of the babies were crying but she was just sitting there…playing with her new toy and watching them.

side note: is it wrong that it totally makes my day to see people I know driving crappy cars too?

FYI: be on the lookout–we are trying to think up an outrageous story to email Dave Ramsey so he’ll read it on the air. any ideas? (am 630, 4-7pm)

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