: She identifies this shape as a “simi-circle”, and pronounces just about every other bit of geometry she knows with a deep southern drawl that melts my heart.

: She is digging her own personal Regina Spektor pandora station, thumbed to her taste, and this song keeps coming on and prompting her to dance her skinny little pants off.

: This also makes her dance until she breaks a sweat.

: Speaking of dancing…

: This book has been holding re-read status. Geometry and dancing. Yep.

: Today she talked me into a blue ceramic piggy bank from the Target dollar bins. She named her Ink. Ink the Pig is currently asleep in Hazel’s bed, in the crook of her arm, tucked in with a super-special Peanuts doll blanket made by my mom.

: Tonight she wrote this song while playing in the bath:

Oh lord, if you like to swim in my bathtub
You get clean
I’m going to make more water
That’s yucky water
If you like to swim in my bathtub
I wondered if you can go under my feet
Oh lord, if you like to get a bowl
If I like a bowl
Say that, “I like new water”
If you need, if you need
If you need to swim in my bath
Bath bath bath bath
If you like to come here in this bathtub
If you like to, if you like to
If you like to come here
If you like to swim
If you like
Come in this bath tub
You don’t have to be dirty
There is clean water
If you like, if you like, if you like tooooo
Because I don’t have clothes on
Nope, I don’t have clothes on

It’s supposed to get cold, finally, in a couple of nights. The weather forecast and a grocery bag full of apples from my uncle and grandpa directed the afternoon towards cooking. Applesauce, apple crisp, pesto from the basil that was still hanging on, and bringing in all of the tomatoes that were left out there… salsa verde? I don’t know if I like salsa verde, but I also don’t know if the coming week has enough sunshine power to ripen these little green babes by the window. I already have this back patch winterized, lasagna-style, to build up a raised bed in the spring (seriously, how easy is that task going to be? It already has three raised sides!) I have enough trash-picked cardboard boxes to cover the other side of our strange little back yard and do the same, as soon as I have a bit of time to clean up all the pots that are still there. My mother has lovingly offered to bring me some loads of aged manure for the job. A gift of poop!

Hazel and I were out somewhere the other day and she noticed something that made her declare “I want to pwant another gah’den, Mama.” My heart crumpled a little. I don’t think I’m ready for winter. Maybe I can pacify her with some bulbs.

Miss Hazel Mae is three years old today – until I ask her to walk up the porch steps because my arms are full of work stuff and shed outer layers and chinese takeout (her bday dinner request).

E: “Come on, you’re THREE! You can definitely walk up these steps.”
H: “NO! HOLD me! I’m TWO!”

Photos of yesterday’s festivities forthcoming – there were several talented cameras floating around her party, so I took about seven pictures. BUT… this evening I did photograph all of the fun handmades for her dollhouse. It’s kind of a problem, the making of these Tiny Little Things. Jamie, Sarah and I went to town on the itty-bitty.

Jamie and Sarah created an amazing array: dining room hutch with Fiestaware and other goodies, craft cabinet, YARN STASH and knitting needles, a cabinet filled with (scrabble tile!) books with actual tiny covers of books that H has memorized, a clothesline (swoon) and crocheted basket of tiny clothespins, a pot of flowers, a trunk, and afghans. Whew. I knitted a tiny blanket, made various sizes of flower pots, a toybox with blocks, balls, and a tiny train (I didn’t make this – scavenged it from tiny xmas decorations!), Peanuts comic strip wall art, interchangable on velcro backing, and tiny paper bunting. We’re all brimming with ideas for more, more, more tiny things.

Happy Birthday, Hazel Mae!

A pretend trip to her cousin’s house apparently requires: a cup, a lizard, a single jelly bracelet.

Hazel comes around to things in her own time, always. She has never liked to ride Mechanical Things… tiny zoo train, quarter helicopter / car / dog things at the mall. No way. No. Way. But then…

Last night at the Buckwheat Festival, she had a silent epiphany. I don’t know how or why. A couple hours of looking, watching, enjoying the midway but flatly refusing to go near for a close look, panic-voice if her stroller strolled too near a whirring, blinking ride. And for some reason, just as it was getting dark, she looked at the small carnival prize bears clutched in each hand. Calmly and certainly decided.

“I want to take ‘dese bears on ‘dose boats, Mommy.”

I only let myself say “are you sure?” one time. She was secured into a boat. Ordered me outside the fence. Sat patiently while more kids trickled in. My heart was racing… I was sure she would bail or freak out as soon as the ride started. I was sure I would freak out.

A momentary panic-stricken look and arm-flail at the first tiny hill and then… bliss. We all cheered every time the Devlin-and-Hazel-boat came around (we were THOSE moms.) Three bucks to ride one more time. A toddler meltdown when I vetoed the airplanes because it was already bedtime and we were forty minutes from her bed… but a promise to go back on Saturday afternoon for a $9 wristband and rides ’til she pukes. If it doesn’t rain.

Please don’t rain.

I made a bunch of these little ephemera packs for Sunday’s benefit music / craft show… scalloped circles, hearts, umbrellas, airplanes, and circles all from fun patterned papers. Perfect for collage, scrapbooking, journaling, gift enclosures, dressing up packaging, or… um… toddler pilfering.

This is where I work. Well, I do a lot of work – Etsy work, taking care of another human work, but this is my Job. That pays the Bills. I am always happy and grateful to be able to do this work… always. Even when I am sitting across from some fifteen year old whose teenage experience in 2011 completely confuses / saddens / sickens / baffles me. Lucky me, eh? But, seriously, thank god in heaven that I was a teenager pre-texting-and-facebook. And that I spent my teenage years in the smallest of small towns. Never thought I’d say that one so certainly. But my kids, all fiftyish of them, are completely amazing for all sorts of reasons, but one in common: they are surviving high school in 2011.

(Yes, this all makes me very terrified for my daughter, and I just try to ignore that because she’s only two.)

Anyway, on Sunday evening this is happening:

I’ve been spending lots of time (partly afforded by the fact that this week has been Sick Week in our little yellow house) making goods for a craft table whose profits will entirely benefit MAYSP. Other people are making fun stuff, too. I can’t wait to see it all together! A sneak peek…

…are the nearest thing to heaven that I know.

And they are not green, but blue, as seen through this lovely instagram filter. I’m teaandlaundry, and I’m an addict.

Hay-z is three years old in about a month. This will be our view from her party, if the weather cooperates. She has long loved birthday parties, but has never put too much (voiced) thought into her own. She has requested “chalk, crayons, Ella, Xavier, Morgan, black balloons and black cake.” Auntie Megan has already taken care of the first. I have high hopes for some of the others. I can indulge some Snoopy-colored balloons (to complement her Snoopy-themed invites, of which I’ve completed steps 1-3!) I have other cake ideas that are hopefully so exciting she’ll forget she asked for a black one. Does anyone out there happen to have the retired 1960s Wilton Snoopy cake pan? :)

Nothing makes this kid happier than birthday parties. And when you ask her how she got so tall, she says “workin’ for Chuck.” The ideas are pretty much directing themselves… :)