Meredith Carson... Across the Pond and Back Again...

When Sophie was a toddler/ pre-schooler, she seemed to always be getting into some sort of trouble.  She drew on her bare chest with permanent markers, cut her own hair, cut holes in her clothes, colored her furniture, scrubbed a variety of random beauty products into her hair, etc.  You get the idea.  Being the sensible parents that we were, we would scold her appropriately and then go and get the camera and take a few photos.  Let's face it, sometimes naughty toddler high jinks are completely hilarious.   As previously noted, since we were such wise parents, we would always explain that we were taking her picture for "The Naughty Book."  This proved to be highly effective until she was about three years old.  Then one afternoon she came to us with something horrible all over her face and my camera in her hand.  She presented the camera to me, grinned enormously and said, "Here you go, Mum.  I very, very naughty!!"  I expect I to...

I celebrated my 35th birthday this week.  I was already happier than a pig in mud, so I didn't need a party to lift my spirits.  In fact, in the summertime when "bedtime" is merely a rhetorical concept for my children, every night feels like some sort of party at my house.  Honest to goodness, on one recent summer evening all of us girls found ourselves dancing with underpants on our heads in our upstairs office.  If memory serves, my husband was "working" at his computer, but someone snapped the elastic waistband of a pair of colorful knickers around his forehead so he wouldn't feel left out.  The best part of it all is that I am able, in the midst of these bouts of frivolity, to take a mental moment to process how wonderful it all is.  I often sigh contentedly and think to myself, "I am very happy right now."  And that is a gift. My current state of summer happiness is completely enough, but my husband, who is not an accomplished party-planner,...

I love summer.  I love weekends.  Combine the two, and I am in paradise.  This weekend proved to be especially wonderful.  It was full of unexpected moments of perfection like this one when the girls stumbled across a magic froggy (or toad?) in the front yard... Shortly thereafter the big kids and I went to a local beach with an old friend and her children.  Lili stayed at home with her Dad, and I was able to swim and frolic with my big girls in ways that my toddler buddy usually prevents. I love reunions with old friends! Unexpectedly our friends were easily persuaded to spend the night, and we let the proverbial good times roll.  A backyard campfire and a couple of summer strawberry margaritas accompanied our jolly evening.  The second best thing about the night was these Reece's peanut butter cup s'mores.   Have mercy. The best thing about the evening was the good company we found ourselves in... and the awesome dance party that spont...

Since it is my job to look after our home and mother my children, every day is "Take Your Daughter to Work Day" at my house.  My daughter Sophia has always been particularly interested in the work that I do in the kitchen.  She is also very interested in this blog, which saves my sanity and makes me a better mother.  Today she decided she wanted to help me with both... My oldest daughter Emma and her Dad were having a special Daddy and daughter day out*, so that left me and the other two girls to get on with the everyday business of grocery shopping, cooking and cleaning.  After the majority of the chores were done, we decided to finish off yesterday's blueberries by making our favorite fruit crisp recipe.  Sophia thought it would be fun to document the entire affair with my camera.  So here it is for your viewing and baking pleasure.  I have a feeling, I've shared this recipe before,  but here it is again fully illustrated. Apple, Berry, Peac...

Last night when I was telling my oldest daughter good night, she didn't even wait for me to sit down on her bed before she asked matter-of-factly, "Mom, what does F#%k mean?"  Yes, I am completely serious.  Can you imagine this word coming out of my sweet little nine-year-old's mouth? So what did I do?  Did I gasp and clutch my pearls?  Did I screech, "Where did you hear that word?!"  Did I go weak in the knees?  You bet your Granny's booty I did all of the above, but then I took a deep breath and remembered that I want my children to come to me with these questions .  And I took a moment and felt very grateful that she was asking me instead of someone else. Last night I did indeed discuss the f-word with my nine-year-old.  We talked about the fact that most "bad words" aren't actually about bad things.  I have heard some pretty horrible words used to describe certain parts of the human anatomy.  None of these body parts are bad, of ...

Summertime in Michigan almost makes up for the suffocating, frigid, seemingly interminable winter.  Almost.  But as I have said before, I genuinely love Michigan in the summertime, and here are some more reasons why... As you can see I took my girls and some blueberry-loving, enthusiastic friends out to Freeland this morning to pick blueberries.  We came home with three buckets full, blue stained fingers, and big plans.  I see blueberry pancakes, cobblers, buckles and smoothies in our futures as well as more blissful Michigan summer days. "In summer, the song sings itself."  ~William Carlos Williams

Dear me, summer is flying by so fast, my head is practically spinning.  I'd better post a few pictures from our proper American fourth of July before I turn around and find that it's time for Halloween.  We were in the US last year, but I seem to recall feeling exhausted and uncertain about keeping our infant out until 11pm to view the fireworks.  But this year, we decided to do it up right with a live, late night fireworks show. My husband made sure that everyone displayed appropriate, appreciative 'firework faces'. And some of us made goofy faces without even being prompted because watching fireworks with little kids is just magical.  Lili was so impressed, she kept pointing at the sky and shouting, "WHOA!  RAINBOW!!"  Just try not to smile like a goofball when you have that sitting in your lap!  Emma and Sophie were equally impressed with their first big fireworks experience. She couldn't help but bust out the happy dance. "You have to love a...

I love summertime.  I love the sunshine and the relaxing, unscheduled time with my children.  Summertime and me are like peas and carrots.  Know what I mean?  Summertime is an open-ended invitation to stumble onto silly, extraordinary wonderfulness posing as everyday nothingness.  Oh Summertime, take your shoes off and stay a while, won't you? This morning we met some friends at our local farmer's market where we browsed and bought all sorts of exciting summer produce.  (I do believe that heaven will smell like peaches.)  After a challenging brunch with my overtired toddler, we headed home with our cache of fruits and veggies.  The grumpy toddler was down for the count, so the rest of us girls took advantage of the peace and played cards.  We also giggled non-stop and ate all of the strawberries we had bought this morning.  At one point my nine year old laughed so hard, bits of strawberry came out of her nose.  That's how you know...

Fear is the root of many evils.  Fear motivates prejudices, wars, the hoarding of resources, and unnecessary, unproductive worry.  Fear keeps us from taking chances.  Fear can stop us in our tracks when our heart is telling us to "do the right thing."  Fear is bad... ...but not entirely bad.  Fear is a learned emotional response, one that my toddler seems not to have learned at all.  A fearless toddler is a terrifying thing.  A fearless, clever, and dexterous toddler is capable of causing her mother's insides to seize in panic multiple times a day.  Let's just review today.  Shall we? First thing this morning I awoke with my clever toddler's feet in my face.  She likes to be in our bed but hates being under the blankets, so she typically finds her way into our room in the middle of the night and sleeps horizontally between her parents' heads.  Why not?  We're obviously 'not the boss of her'.  Not long after I woke, bi...