I started this blog more than three years ago, when we first moved to our quaint little suburb of Winston-Salem. I had recently been through an abrupt job change from full time (and mostly respected on an intellectual level) professional to full time home-maker.
I used to sort of hate all those titles: stay at home mom, home-maker, housewife, etc.
“Housewife” to me, now, sounds very much like “house cat,” which conjures a picture of a clean white robe, slippered feet, and someone filling my food-bowl twice a day, while I have little more to do than to move from one piece of furniture to another striving for optimal napping conditions. Maybe I’ll lick a paw. Maybe I’ll claw at my scratching post. But mostly I’ll lounge until my owners come home, and then resent the fact that I have to share my space with them. Continue reading
November 18, 2014
This evening Isaiah was left alone for a few minutes in the bathtub while John had a heart-to-heart with Carter and I was feeding the baby downstairs, listening to Eliott read. I heard him call my name a few times, but the sentiment seemed more like his “Mommy, what are you doing right now?” tone of voice rather than his, “I just fell and hit my head” tone of voice, so naturally I ignored him. When the baby finished eating I took her to bed.
I think I’ve said this before. Summer is by far my favorite season. I like the summer minimalist wardrobe and everything that comes with it – less laundry and less time putting on shoes. I like hot weather. I like going to the pool and the long afternoon naps that follow.
Now that we live in our new neighborhood, I actually crave the relaxed schedule. There is something huge to be said for the fact that I looked forward to Fall Break this year – a full five days without school, and me with four children. Continue reading
I was just cc’ed on an email from John to an old friend – a general life update, if you will. I realized I haven’t done one of these in a while and the email is so lovely that I’m reposting it here and considering using it as the letter that accompanies the Christmas cards we never send.
Carter (5yo), Eliott (7yo), Isaiah(2yo), Avery (2 months old)
[Dear family and friends,] *I added this.
[Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. We sure have a lot to celebrate this year.] *I also added this because the email seemed to start in the middle of a conversation that might have otherwise seemed confusing to someone on the outside. Everything from here on out is all John.
Eliott and Carter are both playing soccer now and are clearly the best on their respective teams. I think they have both scored all the goals for their teams this season. I coach Carter’s team, the Pink Sparkly Unicorns. Carter named the team. Their uniforms are orange. I’m not sure if they really like soccer or if they just like the attention that comes with being superior. Probably the latter knowing their parents. The boy is nothing like me or Claire. He’s more like my dad and my brother, very smiley and usually happy. There’s not much brooding or darkness in him. That’s bound to change since he only has sisters though, so we’re enjoying it while we can.
Or, that time I ate my placenta and lived to talk about it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up. Did she just say placenta? Continue reading
I’m not apologizing for the lack of posts these days. I’m not apologizing that I have a baby who is now more than a month old and I haven’t taken any pictures of her in over a week. We had cleaning ladies come this week (best gift ever) and my house is still gloriously basking in the aftermath of a top to bottom clean. Everyone’s drawer has at least three pairs of clean underwear right now.
I’m killing it.
Meet Tiffani Price. She’s small town Texas girl, mother (two kids, several chickens, probably some goats and horses, and a countless number of dogs and cats), and wife to a man who spends at least half the year on an oil rig in the Gulf. She’s a crazy Right-Wing conservative and outspoken Evangelical who, I trust, has a direct line to the office of God himself. When it comes to habits of organization, patience with children, and our general approaches to home-management, she and I are probably polar opposites.
Yet. I love her.