Sometime shortly after we moved home last November I started noticing that Hazel played with her toys more if they were organized. I couldn’t just keep everything jumbled in a couple of open bins – she would ignore them unless all the blocks were together, yada yada (surely this is surprising no one – she is my child in SOME ways.) I started scouring goodwill and other places for some low shelves that were deep enough to work well for toys and found nothing. I suppose I could have built something but I would have just gotten very angry in the process, which was not a good thing to do during Shining Time up on this mountain. So after christmas when things were way on sale, I bought a set of these shelves in white and some fabric bins for them on the cheap.

I don’t even know how long I stood in target looking at them and feeling disgusted with what I was about to do, both because I was buying something I knew I could probably EVENTUALLY find used or make with some effort, AND they were boring. But whatever – I bought them.

And then I bought some spraypaint. And scrapbooking paper. And these wee adorable frames from the dollar bins and Michael’s. And ribbon. And I spent way too long obsessing over all of it. And I went home joyful about my big box-store purchases.

A week later we had an astounding thaw, and so one night after dark I put the garage door up, assembled the shelves, and started spraypainting them right at the edge of the rain pouring from the sky. The light was pitiful down there, and I didn’t even think about it, I just went to town with my petrol blue destashed from Erin, and had another new can waiting on deck. After about ten minutes of bliss I realized that some of the paint was beading up. I almost lost my mind. I left the whole thing in the garage and didn’t touch it again until… two days ago.

In the meantime I picked up a can of plastic primer for the cheap plastic-ey veneer – totally ingenious – and sanded off all of the bad paint. (Dear mouse sander, I love you forever.) Second paint attempt went on like a dream, I wrapped some ribbon around the bins, drew some labels and covered them in contact paper, then popped the (painted-to-match) mini frames on top. After the spraypaint was dry I cut the scrapbooking paper to fit the four cube openings that had backs, and after Hazel went to bed… I organized. Organizing might be more fun than spray painting. I just don’t know.

Either way – Hazel’s boring target toy shelves are no longer boring. And I only had one fit of anger.

Back in 2007 I posted this entry. I thought of it a couple of months ago when a flickr friend posted the insanely minimal contents of her own bag, and started daydreaming all over again about the polaroids-of-everything-in-women’s-bags project. I thought about how the contents of my own bag have evolved from Childless City Person to Country Mom. And looking through the comments on that post: Kelly no longer has braces and accessories, Jenn has also added babythings to her bag, so has Virginia, Kathy’s Leo has grown out of one of the allergies that required an epi pen, Jess has more kids and we never farkle anymore, Maggie has added two little girls’ things to her bag, godmama-Kelly has another kid (and another on the way) and no longer requires a map of New Jersey…

This also reminds me that last week I washed Hazel’s ergo carrier for the first time since we moved home. I don’t use it daily anymore – it mostly just rides around in our car waiting for my arms to be overloaded with packages going into the post office or something – and when I emptied the pocket there were a whole bunch of TTC transfers from the weeks before we left Toronto. I had to give myself a little “get a grip” peptalk before I threw them in the trash.

Anyway – here is my bag nowadays. An Etsy birthday bag – thanks Claire! I can fit tons of junk in it!

- changing pad, wetbag, cloth dipe, disposable dipe, wipes
- mini-magnadoodle
- little cloth case full of notebooks, drawing utensils, and stickers
- Hazel’s water bottle
- keys
- tiny cow
- Clif bar
- pouch of business cards
- 3 pens
- 3 lip products
- wee pot of lotion
- wallet
- zippy pouch full of painkillers, bandaids, dental floss, tiny sunscreen, hair things for both of us, etc.
- camera
- phone
- gum
- measuring tape (H kitchen plans and dimensions are in my phone – still hunting for some things I need)
- knitting
- moleskine planner

I usually also have: more Hazel snacks, a playsilk or two, a sunhat and sunglasses if we’ll be outside, and a bunch of receipts and gum wrappers and junk that I just happen to have cleaned out this week.

I usually do not have: that much child entertainment, but were in a restaurant the night before, and I only carry my knitting if I’m out and am going to be hanging out somewhere for awhile (we went to Angie’s after eating out).

Sorry about the formatting of that old post. Something happened in a server crash or transfer a few years ago. Every few weeks when I can’t sleep I’ll sit for half an hour or forty minutes and slowly go through tidying them up one at a time. It’s very satisfying when I’m feeling frazzled :)

Now YOU!

Hazel pushed aside her “I don’t totally enjoy getting my hands dirty” attitude to make you some art :)

Hazel could be Mrs. Hazel Mae Iafrate-Reindel-Swan. And she’ll have an abundance of things for her wedding reception slideshow. At least that’s what Kelly and I tell ourselves.

“Should I be taking pictures of this?”

“YES. We have to have SOMETHING for the slideshow.”

- Crocheted several rows of the stressed-virginia blanket this week. Have I mentioned how huge this thing is? It’s so wide that I’m considering making it vertically striped instead of horizontal… because at some point I’m just going to have to STOP… and that would let me stop sooner.

- Hazel has the hookup in our soon-to-be-town. Her new library card came in the mail this week :)

- They DO sell my favorite yogurt in this town! Thanks for the tip, Angelina. Too bad I’m leaving in a month. I’ll have to start the hunt all over again.

- Hazel is eating pirate’s booty out of the halloween bowl that she uses all year long… only the weather at night this week IS halloween-ish. And I can’t tell you how excited I am. Even though Mikey will be at a conference halloween weekend – boo.

- This magazine came weeks ago and promptly got buried under a pile of books. The pile got moved around and around. I found it today. It’s like getting a new ReadyMade all over again. Maybe this time I’ll actually read it.

- The juxtaposition of adult stuff and kid stuff usually doesn’t catch my eye. We’re a totally kid-centered house. There is no “playroom”. There is a “living room” and we all live in it. But the drain basket made me laugh today.

There, I made a blog post.

Oh, for those keeping track of these things, Luca has been upgraded from “Ca-ca” to “Yucca”.

We’ve been hearing this about five hundred times a day for the past couple of months. We used to get about five hundred polite requests for books – now we get demands.

October 2009

Some of Hazel’s current favorites/demands:

Eric Carle’s Draw Me A Star (We are in the middle of a star fixation. Warning, there is a definite penis implication in an illustration of Adam & Eve. Lately, whenever we get to the photo of Eric Carle at the end of his books, Hazel exclaims “Pa!” each time – my dad and E.C. are beard twins, don’t you know?)

Mem Fox’s Whoever You Are (aka, “Ebbewa Awe”. This book taught her the word “blood”.)

Liz Garton Scanlon’s All the World (aka, “Ebbewa Wowd”. This book taught her the word “couple”, because I said “look Mikey, I think there’s a gay couple at the farmer’s market, too”… upon close inspection after reading a bad amazon review about the “lesbian couple on the swing”. *sigh*)

Jane Belk Moncure’s My “h” Book (I could have goodwilled the entire alphabet for $6.50, but… we’re moving soon.)

Dr. Seuss’s Yertle the Turtle (such a socially & politically PERFECT book… I do declare.)

Marie-Louise Gay’s When Stella Was Very Very Small

Sherry North’s Because I Am Your Daddy (Grandma hit the ball out of the park with those last two picks.)

Bob Barner’s Stars! Stars! Stars! (thank you Mrs. Hall for consigning this and your classroom’s entire Eric Carle collection.)

Catherine Walters’ Time to Sleep, Alfie Bear! (thanks again, Mrs. Hall, and other Grandma for financing this particular stack of books! This is a perfect summer book.)

Eric Carle’s From Head To Toe (she has owned this board book since she was teensy, and is all of a sudden obsessed with it – “I ‘tan do it! I ‘tan do it!”)

Several years ago our friends Eric and Colleen started working out a vision of a new work farm / intentional community in West Virginia. Though Chicago natives, they had both served at Nazareth Farm and were modeling many of their ideas around their time spent there. Five years ago, all of their planning and praying and networking and connecting and money-saving and falling in love with WV paid off, and Bethlehem Farm was born. Their first baby.

This September they will welcome Miriam or Isaiah, their second “baby” and first child. Kelly and I took Hazel and Xavier down to the farm over the weekend for a blessingway for Colleen, to fit in a much needed break from reality, visit with the ones who are the friends – you all have these, right? – who seem to Have It All Figured Out And Do Everything Exactly Right And In The Simplest Possible Way. There is nothing these people do without first contemplating how it will affect their immediate community, the earth, and humanity in general. They know the origins of – if not the actual hands that grew or made – practically every morsel of food that passes their lips. They are humble and gracious and really stinking smart. Eric is a master gardener in every sense of the word, and Colleen makes quilts that could be sold at Tamarack. They are the epitome of People Who Have Their Shit Together. I’m pretty sure that, among other things, it has a lot to do with how little time they spend facebooking (or something like that). If I didn’t love them so freaking much I’d be insanely jealous and probably a little bitter. Which reminds me that, also, they are way better at our religion than I am… clearly. In sifting through photos to share I realize that I did not take any of THEM. Fail. Here they are with Kelly, PJ, and a freshly baptized Xavier. I miss PJ’s huge beard. Eric’s beard is not that huge these days, either, unless it’s just blending with his plaid shirt and looking bigger than it really is – neither is my brother in law’s. There is some kind of beard recession going on.

To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter; to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird’s nest or a wildflower in spring – these are some of the rewards of the simple life.
~John Burroughs

Whilst waiting out a torrential downpour in our tent last week, I ran out of animals / vegetables / minerals to draw for Hazel, and for some reason thought to draw West Virginia. Then we made a list of people from WV. Then Mikey drew Ohio and we listed people from there. We were desperate to keep her entertained, and she seems to enjoy memorizing lists lately.

“How about Clint… Clint is from West Virginia. Who else?”

“Hawvey.”

Hazel has met Clint & Kelly’s dog, Harvey, only three or four times ever. He’s a youngin’. She saw them two weeks ago and can deduce that since Clint is from West Virginia, his dog must be, too.

I feel like I’ve been saying this a lot lately, but HOW DID WE GET HERE. My BABY is DEDUCING INFORMATION. Terrifying.

Of course, we blew the whole thing twenty seconds later when we informed her that Paisley is, in fact, from Ohio.

Two West Virginia natives (one by way of Indiana) meet, adopt a buckeye dog and manufacture a Canadian child. Figure that one out, kid.

Today she examined photos clipped to a string on the wall and instead of naming the people, named their dogs. I died a little.

“Ea-wuh, Paisee, Hawvey, Cah-win.”

Earl, Paisley, Harvey, Carlin. We met my parents this afternoon to reclaim that buckeye mutt of ours. I missed her and Hazel missed her. I don’t know about Mikey, sometimes. Clint says “I’ve never known someone who had such loathing for their dog.”

I know my parents are really good dogsitters because Paisley is always depressed and won’t eat for two days when she comes back from their house. Thanks, parents. Welcome home, daggit.

I love to wear my kid. Even though she is getting huge (in a tiny “what is she, about 18 months?” kind of way), I have still never, for ten seconds, gotten sore or uncomfortable wearing her in her ergo. Just very sweaty.

I hardly have any pictures of her nestled in her wrap when she was wee, which is weird because she practically spent the first three months of her life there. And I hardly took any pictures. I didn’t even really have that new-mom fog where I forgot lots of things… we just never took any.