Happy Birthday, my Mr. Rives.

Don't you love that line in "Emma" where she says, "Now I need not call you Mr. Knightley. I may call you my Mr. Knightley." Mmmhmmm, me too.

So Kristopher is 36 today. I met him just a day or two after his 29th birthday. And I was 24. And now we are an old married couple. And I rather like it that way.

So I would like to wish the very happiest of birthdays to the guy that won the "How Much of Jamie's Crap Will You Put Up With?" contest. First prize: Jamie.

My Mr. Rives is my very favorite person in the whole world. I love him. And I am so thankful for the 36 years he has been given (particularly the last 7.)

It is his birthday. But he is the gift.

"Something." It's kinda like "all," but different.

So as I opened up the ol' netbook and gave some thought to posting, the tape (CD? mp3?) in my head started playing that song about how I have no good pictures and no clever ideas and no touching insights to share so I might as well not even blog.

But I'm really trying to do that thing where I do SOMETHING as opposed to NOTHING even if that SOMETHING is not EVERYTHING.

So without further ado, I give you...something.

The big boys are at Mamaw and Poppy's right now. When did their house get so fun? I grew up there and do not remember it being the enchanted land that it apparently is. This means that it has been just Simeon and me today because Kris was at his class all day (He is taking a systematic theology class at Reformed Theological Seminary Houston.)

Simeon totally did me a solid and slept until 8:45. I woke up at 8:30 and looked at the clock and panicked of course. I ran into his room and was relieved to hear his sweet little snore. So we ate breakfast and got ready to run a few errands. While running errands with one child seems like it would be easier than running errands with 3 children, if that one child is 7 months old and not, say, 4 years old, it's really not that much easier. Walking, unbuckling on your own, flexible eating schedule: these are the qualities of a good errand-running buddy. Simeon, while utterly adorable, is still rather high maintenance. But its fun to focus on just one kid. I enjoyed my day with him very much indeed.

We got to have dinner tonight with some friends that Kris has known for a long time but that I have only known through blogs and facebook up until now. We talked and laughed and exchanged stories. It was so refreshing and encouraging--exactly what Kris and I needed. They are heading back overseas soon so we are really grateful that we were able to catch up with them. This girl lives in a foreign land, has 5 kids (the youngest of which they adopted from Ethiopia), and homeschools. So she's basically my hero.

Incidentally, I was totally "that mom" tonight--you know the one who has her INFANT out way passed bedtime. The one whom I usually shake my head at and mentally comment on their irresponsible, selfish parenting. So I guess I'll stop that now.

Mamw's birthday was Thursday. Jude wanted to buy her a new train (the one from the Thomas series named "Molly" because that is Mamaw's name, you see.) Asher wanted to buy her a new laptop. But instead, we went to Target and they each picked out a small gift and helped me wrap them up. Asher personalized his:



"It's for Mamaw From Asher"

I tried to seize the teachable moment and discuss the use of apostrophes but I guess we'll work on word orientation first.

Boy Crazy

So the Masters Rives...it seems as though I should mention them. They are quickly growing and barely giving me time to catch my breath at one phase before we enter another. As at least one person feels compelled to tell me each time we go out, I have my hands full. It is usually said with a smirk or a chuckle or a tone of pity. But I assure you, even on my worst day, the idea of life in the alternative looms heavy over me and I give thanks. "Oh, you should see my heart," I tell them. "You don't even know full."




The youngest manchild I am currently rearing is Simeon James. He will be 7 months in 4 days. Does this completely blow anyone else's mind? Did I not just post about his birth. Granted that was only about 4 posts back, but it still seems unbelievable that he should be so old.



At this writing, he is in the middle of an unfortunate combination of a cold and teething. This means from about midnight to 5 in the morning, he sleeps a total of about an hour. The past two nights have been like this. He sucks his thumb, you see, so a stopped-up nose makes his normal nighttime guilty pleasure impossible. Which makes him MAD. Which makes him even more tired. We're all exhausted over here. But thanks be to God, this is the saddest news I have to report.

He sits up on his own fairly well but is still a little wobbly at times so I put the boppy around him. He loves the Johnny Jump Up and exersaucer. He adores his big brothers and finds them endlessly entertaining. I can eek out a few extra minutes of whatever I am doing by asking the boys to go talk to Simmy or make him laugh. He will do a little inchworm scoot to try to reach a toy but he scoots backwards so he's got a little work to do there. He loves to eat and so far has only turned his nose up at avocados. I cannot blame him because if my avocados aren't salted, cilantroed, and served on a tortilla chip, I don't care for them either.

I have no idea how long he is or how much he weighs. He is bigger than a breadbox. His thigh rolls give him away if his eyes don't--he is definitely a Rives boy!

The past two days not withstanding, he is a happy, smiley little(ish) thing. He babbles on and on. We call him "Simmy" or "Simmy J" or "Simmy Shake"(long story.)



The middle, misunderstood, sweet-as-pie, force-to-be-reckoned-with child is my Judah Kristopher (or Jude as he is called.) He is still inextricably connected to his "lovey" and resists all suggestions that perhaps he should reserve his thumb-sucking for bedtime. He loves trains and drums.

He is two and one half as of this month but has his sights set on three already. He is the most interesting, frustrating, baffling combination of tender and tough. Baby and Big Boy. Meaner than a snake yet first to share what he has or help a brother out. He keeps us on our toes suffice it to say.

His favorite things to say right now are "You pay wif me, Mama?" and "Here, I show you" and "I do it my own self." He still has a sweet "babyness" to his voice and I love to hear it. His favorite song is of course "Hey Jude" and he sings it quite well.



The eldest is Asher Owen. He will be 4 in just two weeks! He is a lot like his daddy--very intentional and sweet and prone to go get his guitar whenever he has a free moment. He is very sensitive I am learning how to best direct this (a challenge indeed.)He loves music (as does Jude) and is always staging concerts for anyone that will listen. He and Jude have constant disputes over the creative direction of their band.

He is typical first born--loves order and routine. Gets very agitated when those can't be found. He can write his name and loves to type notes on the iPod touch. He would prefer to eat every meal out and for friends to join us at these meals. Very social, that one.

Ok, I feel better now. The mom-guilt has been assuaged (as far as blogging goes.)

ALL or nothing

It's a poisonous way to live life. And yet, it's what I do in so many areas. Because I'm not The Pioneer Woman, I'm not going to even bother blogging. Because I'm not Ina Garten, I'm not going to even bother cooking adventurous meals. Because I'm not John Piper, I'm not going to even bother praying. Because I'm not Sandra McCracken, I'm not going to bother playing my guitar.

It makes sense in my head at the time. Behold, a syllogism:

The goal of everything should be perfection.
If you can't achieve perfection, you shouldn't even bother.
I shouldn't bother with anything hard because there is NO WAY I will be the best, thereby accomplishing my goal AND securing lots of accolades from onlookers (that of course being the secondary goal.)

Now, I'm no Aristotle, but I feel pretty safe in saying that this is not logical.

Why are you writing all this? Can't you just put up a picture of your kids and be done with it?

I could go on and on about this for years probably and never run out of things to say about how truly dysfunctional I am. But the reason this topic is on my mind is because of the book I started today called Loving the Little Years by Rachel Jankovic. Laura recommended it and after reading the sample, I quickly downloaded it. So many thought-provoking ideas have grabbed hold of my mind as I read. I'll save my book report for another post, but this is why I have been examining my "all-or-nothing" mentality today:

In her chapter called "In the Rock Tumbler" she begins be reminiscing about her rich spiritual life when she was in junior high. All the spiritual disciplines came so easily and so joyfully. I think about the time in my life that was like that. Bascially anytime prior to becoming a wife and a mother. Basically when all I had to think about was me. Basically when I lived a self-centered exsistence that naturally lended itself to uninterupted prayer times and painted toenails and meeting up for coffee with friends. I don't mean I never struggled or dealt with lack of desire for the things of God, but I had the luxury of only having to worry about my sin. My problems. My needs.

The author compares this to a rock being refined in a gentle, slow-flowing river. Yeah, the rock is being smoothed out but the change takes a long time. There's not a lot of resistence or struggle, but there's not a lot of growth either. It's sweet. It's refreshing. But it is not where sanctification gets its hands dirty and scoops out that corruption.

But things changed. For me, it happened by God sending a husband and children into my world. When this occurred, I was thrilled of course (and still am!) But, as Mrs. Jankovic puts it, your rock is taken out of the serene, gentle stream and placed into a rock tumbler. It's loud and disorienting and jarring. It's dirty in there. You get hit a lot. But, by God, you are changed!

Seriously, your kids are cute. Just upload a picture of Asher playing his guitar and call it a day.

Here's where I'm going. I spend a great amount of mental energy wishing I was more spiritual, beating myself up for not being more disciplined, and wistfully longing for the days when I could read my bible and have my quiet time, and spend meaningful time in prayer without having to accomodate anyone else's needs or schedules. I am comparing life in a stream to life in a tumbler. And then, in my all-or-nothing fallacy-based mindset, I reason that since life can't be like it was in the stream, then why even bother?

But you know what I forgot? That I don't change me. All the faithful practices in the world will not change me. Of course God uses those means, but if he places me in a stage of life where I have the time and stamina for a few desperate words of prayer and a chapter or two of Scripture, then I can trust that He will do all that needs to be done with that meager offering.

But instead, I blow it off all together most days. Because I can't do the "all" that I have decided I must do. But the reality is, I am being changed. In this season that appears to be the least spiritual, the most removed from time with God, He is actually doing the most in me I think.

And probably, one day, I'll get put back in that peaceful river. Much smoother, much more polished than the young stones around me. And I will let them know that God is here, but He will be even closer in the tumbler.

Why, Hello There.

**tap, tap, tap**

Is this thing on?

Hello, my beloved readers. I'm assuming you have all been clicking refresh on your browsers since November just praying for a new post to pop up. Well click no longer, dear ones. I refuse to put off the outpouring of verbal creativity that has welled up within my soul, lo, these many weeks.

Or maybe Cheryl has updated her freaking blog three times in the past three days and I don't like to be outdone.

The only problem is...I'm not sure where I want this blog to go. I can't deny the mommy blog-ness that goes on here. I have incredible brilliant children so I must from time to time fill you in on all the terribly impressive things they do and say. But I'm not sure I have found my niche yet.

I'm not a photographer so a hip blog full of my well-edited pictures is out. Most of my craft projects turn out looking like I was drunk and blindfolded while doing them. I do cook, but only out of societal pressure to conform to my gender role. So there goes the crafting and cooking genre. I love Jesus, but dear God, I'm afraid you need to be a little less cynical before you write a weekly devotional blog. I enjoy exercise, particularly yoga, but what's say I drop this last 15 before I try to knock Jillian Michaels off her throne.

So where does this leave me? Not sure. I shall continue to ponder this.

In the meantime, I'll just complain about a few things. This I feel equipped to do.

Let's start off with what must be the biggest thing happening on the planet right now because I swear it's all that was on the news this morning...The Trenta. Yes, 31 ounces is a lot. Yes, it will probably cost $5 after tax. Yes, our population is overweight and we drink too many empty calories and blah, blah, blah. There is a demand and Starbucks is supplying and that's what makes this little system we all enjoy so much go round and round. So if it offends your moral and ethical sensibilities to be in the presence of such blatant gluttony, brew your coffee at home and shut up.

So I really like being in my thirties. I feel more confident and less prone to be affected by the drama that begins in jr. high and never goes away. I think there is a "coming in to yourself" (I don't know what that even means, but go with me here) that happens, slowly but surely, and it's nice. You still envy those people in their twenties that always dress cute and get to do amazing things, like sleep, but on the whole, I wouldn't go back to those days. But for crying out loud, what is up with the dark under-eye circles? I mean, come on! Whatever the switch is that flips and makes weight loss so much more fun in your thirties also controls the pigment of the skin below your eyes apparently. Concealer is no longer optional if I would like to appear, oh I don't know...like I haven't been in a fight? I'm not a fan. Notatall.

My neighbors have a goat. As a pet. That they walk. I think this is weird.

Ok, that's enough complaining for now.

So bear with me as I figure out what this blog is. I've narrowed it down to nothing hip, creative, enviable, or impressive.

And for crying out loud, Cheryl, don't post tomorrow. This is exhausting.

And Now It Is November

One post for October. Pitiful. I guess if I were keeping a baby book or making some sort of scrapbook, neglecting the blog might not be that big of a deal. Oh the pressure.

Well let's get started, shall we? We've lived a lot of life in these past few weeks and I have some incredibly mediocre pictures to prove it.

We visited Oil Ranch with some friends. Places like that have the potential to be way more trouble than they are worth, but I have to say that it was a really enjoyable experience. Asher and Jude loved getting to ride ponies and feed farm animals and ride the train. Simeon didn't seem to mind it too much either.

First up: The pony rides! I don't want to brag, but look at that form. Textbook. Those boys mounted that saddle and made that relatively small loop with poise and style. Even when the saddle came loose on Jude's pony and he was practically parallel with the ground, Cowboy Jude held on and finished his ride. Giddy up.



Next up:The hay ride: What you would expect up until the driver pulls off to a small area where cows are hanging out waiting to be fed. By the people on the hay ride. These are not bashful cows that don't want to appear too anxious. They know the drill. They stick their enormous heads right in your lap and you give them cow food. Got that? It's been about 15 minutes since the last hay ride came through so don't make them wait either.


The final activity: pumpkin selection. You DO NOT want to make the wrong choice. Thoughtfully peruse each one until the orange squash that God permitted to exist just so it could find its way into your grimy little hands jumps out at you.

Whew. Well done, boys. That was a close one.

That evening, we went to Mamaw and Poppy's so that Asher and Jude could attend their very first football game. Asher had been wanting to go one for a while so we headed out to Hamshire. Where the boys watched clothes dry. Loads of fun (with a wit only matched by her beauty.)



Incidentally, Jude opted out of the football game and stayed at home with Mamaw and Simmy and me. He decided it would be more fun to lie in bed and watch Nick Jr. which was definitely one of my prouder moments as a mother. Asher, Poppy, and Kris went and it was reported that a good time was had by all.

Oh, sweet Simeon. He is adored by us all. He smiles at everybody. He plays contentedly by himself. He eats and sleeps well. And all I can say about that is, "THANK YOU, GOD!"

We took our traditional pumpkin patch pictures. We got there a little late and didn't have enough light left to take the requisite 500 pictures in order to get 1 or 2 good ones. But I think this one does a good job of capturing the moment.



(Thankfully my friend Chris met us out there a few day later and got some cute ones.)

Ok, I'm exhausted now. More blogging later. Pinky swear.

And now for The October Post

Remember when I blogged more than once a month? Yeah, me neither.

So here is Simeon. He is 3 months now.



He's chunking up. As all Bobbitt/Rives babies are wont to do.




I feel like I should write more. So let's see what happens...

Did you know Blue (the one with the Clues) is a girl? I did not. I saw a cute Blue costume at a consignment store today and it was just Jude's size. They have recently discovered Blue's Clues thanks to Netflix and really like it. So I asked Jude if he wanted to be Blue, and of course, he did. And then Asher said, "And I can be Steve because he takes care of Blue!" Deal Sealed. Coordinating costumes (which is imperative)and thoughtfulness (which is rare.) But then I dicovered Blue is female. Please don't tell Jude. Or Kris.

But now that I think about it, Asher was a fireman last year and Jude was his dalmation. This will probably come up in therapy one day.

I read an incredible book recently--Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl by N.D. Wilson (son of Doug Wilson.) He places his writing in the genre of "creative non-fiction" and his style really resonated with me. First of all, he is, as a friend of mine put it, "dripping with sarcasm." But since sarcasm happens to be my primary love language, I ate it up. So if dry wit and well-placed foul language is not yor cup of tea, you probably won't love it. He observes the world with wide-eyed wonder and writes about it with a philosophical, yet completely approachable perspective. He moves through the four seasons pointing out the humor, paradoxes, mysteries, and brilliance that are God's trademarks. His writing is very "stream-of-consciouness," but it only adds to the way that the book challenges your preconceived ideas about what God does and how He does it. I loved it.

I do not like fantasy stories. I don't mind reading books where the author creates circumstances that are highly unlikely but possibly realistic, but fairy stories where elves and hobbits (yes, I said it) and vampires are the main characters, I'm just not that in to. But creative non-fiction--that draws me in. And there doesn't seem to be a lot of that.

So...read any good books lately? Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry is on my nightstand now.

2 months

Three's A Crowd

This is one loved little baby! If Simeon is awake, the poor child has someone laying by him (or on him), kissing him, holding him, or dragging him by the foot across the room (Mama was catching up on facebook and perhaps should have glanced up from her computer more frequently.)

We are about to begin week 7 with our youngest and we are finally getting to that "Ok, I think we're going to make it" stage. Simeon is sleeping...um, better shall we say? Nothing to brag about, but enough that I can function. He's napping in his crib and getting his own sweet self to sleep. Sorry kids, but I'm a "a little crying never hurt anybody" kind of mom.

Kris is back at work. I had 6 wonderful weeks of help from my amazing husband. But we like bacon around here so somebody's got to bring it home.

Jude turned 2 a few weeks ago. We had a little family party at my parents' house and Jude kept up the tradition begun by Asher of puking at your 2nd birthday party. Other than that, it was a great party. Lots of Thomas the Train paraphernalia and outside toys were bestowed upon young Jude--a happy little 2 year old that did make.

Kris finished the deck! He outdid himself. He really should think twice about doing such awesome work because all that does it make the little mental list I keep for him in my head grow longer. Oh the plans I have for him now. Pics to come soon! I can't wait for more mild weather so we can really enjoy it.

One last picture of Simmy (as Jude has nicknamed him.)



So sweet!

Simeon James Rives

Well, it's true what they say--third time is a charm. For this delivery, the baby was breathing and I was conscious. Mission: Accomplished.

Simeon James made his grand entrance at 7:53 on the morning of June 28. He was a whopping 6 lb. 12 oz. and 20 inches--which is how long Big Bro Jude was, but Jude weighed 2 lbs. more.



The anesthesiologist had a little problem finding the right spot for my spinal block, but no where near the trouble the last guy had so I was most grateful for that. She got it going and after a little anti-nausea medicine, I was good to go. Dr. Plummer got to work doing God knows what behind that curtain and a few minutes later, Little Bit came out screaming his little lungs out. Best. sound. ever.



That is the picture I have been wanting...mainly because Kris looks so hot in his shower cap.

Kris went with Simeon to the nursery to get cleaned up and to make sure that they brought him back to me ASAP so I could nurse him. I will say attempting that after major abdominal surgery was a little precarious, but by God's grace, we did it!

While Simeon was back there, he got to meet his very first friend, James. His mom, Laura, and I are very good friends and were so happy to deliver our boys on the same day in the same hospital.



We spent this first day together--just the 3 of us.



We asked that friends and family wait until the second day to come meet our little guy so we could have some time to spend just focusing on Simeon and on getting a good start on nursing.

So the big brothers waited until Tuesday to come up and visit their new baby. They were so excited and looked super cute in their shirts made by my friend Becca at Too Cute Creations (pics of all 3 in their shirts coming soon!)





And although it appears that Jude is about to whack his new brother, he was really just reaching out to touch him. Jude has actually been really gentle with him. If you know Jude at all, you are just as surprised as we are.



Here are a few of Sweet Simeon. I will refrain from making pronouncements about his temperment until he is a little older. Or at least until all the narcotics are out of my breastmilk. But he really is a sweet baby. He has a precious little look with his big eyes and tiny little face.

The day we left the hospital


Daddy and Simeon


After his spongebath


Simeon and me( sporting my "I have a newborn" hairdo)


Check out those guns.


Our little family of five is doing well. Thankfully, it is summer so Daddy is home with us for a few more weeks so I won't feel the full impact of being a mom of three until then. We are enjoying our time together and this way-too-long, way-too-short season.

Photo Shoot

Click here to see our pictures!

Baby Blessing

Friday night, my way-too-kind friends threw me a "baby blessing." Unlike a shower, where the focus tends to be the soon-arriving baby and opening gifts, a blessing is more for the mother--a time to honor her and share thoughts, blessings, encouragement, bible verses with her to help her prepare for all the changes that are about to take place. Much like the one I had when I was expecting Jude, this blessing was so special and something that I will always remember and treasure.

Cheryl was our gracious hostess and she did such a great job organizing and planning everything. She knows my love for appetizers as meals, more specifically--DIPS! I am a chips and dip girl all the way so she had several of our friends bring all manner of dips and chips and crackers and veggies. There were sweet dips. There were savory dips. I was in dip heaven!



She even made these cute little signs for each dip. She has a craft room now so I would expect nothing less of her ;)



And check out this cake!




Cutest cake EVER and it tasted just as good as it looked. A delicious cake that incorporates my obsession with monograms--what more could I ask for?

And lest you think the food was the highlight of the evening, rest assured it was my amazing circle of friends that gathered to encourage me and bless me as I prepare for Simeon's arrival. I wish I had my camera out earlier so I could have gotten pictures of everyone! But here are a few of the incredible women in my life...

Me and Cheryl (aka Hostess with the Mostess)



Kathy, Bethany, Me, and Chris. We are all the moms of 3 yr. old boys and are living to tell about it ;)



Laura and I (we are due just 2 days apart!)



Jenny and I (we are having our lovely scheduled c-sections exactly one week apart)



And me and my mom (who my readers probably know better as Mamaw)



Another special aspect of a Baby Blessing is the bracelet. Each woman there strings a pretty bead onto a bracelet and the mother gets to take it home and wear it as a reminder of all the prayers and support that she has, especially during her upcoming delivery. I have one from my Blessing for Jude and was looking forward to the one I would receive at Simeon's and joked with Cheryl that I needed a "retroactive" one for Asher since I didn't have a Blessing for him. So my talented friend from church made a beautiful bracelet for me to represent Asher and then all the women there assembled another really pretty one for Simeon's birth.



The main event at a Baby Blessing is the time set aside to go around the room and share words of blessing and encouragement with the mom. The guests are asked to bring their written blessing as well and they are assembled into a blessing book. This is the cover of mine that Cheryl made.



And here are a few of the pages.



The whole evening was so incredibly special. We have been so blessed in our community to have the opportunity to throw several Blessings lately and each one always ends up being a beautiful reminder of the importance of the circle of women God has placed in each of our lives. As I said that night, the women gathered there (and a few others that couldn't make it) are my "village"--the ones that help me in more ways that I could count as I live out my journey as a believer in Christ, as a wife to Kris, and as a mother to my 3 boys. I can't do it alone. I need these women. And this night made it so clear, once again, that I don't have to. Blessed indeed.

Sneak Peek

We had family pictures taken last week. The photographer sent me a little sneak peak. Can't wait to see the rest!

Cravings

I've never really had pregnancy cravings. I just want to eat and eat. Pretty much everything sounds good and I find that the things I really like taste even better when I am pregnant.

To me, a true craving is something that you would typically never eat but that you cannot get enough of during pregnancy. Like turnip greens or spam or garden soil. If you hear a pregnant woman say, "I'm really craving chips and queso!" what she means is "I am in a phase of life in which I intend on eating whatever the heck I want because I am going to get fat anyway so get me some chips and queso right now and don't even think about giving me any lip about it because I am surrendering my body to grow this child so the least you can do is let me enjoy my fried corn and melted cheese in peace." I mean, who doesn't love chips and queso? When do you ever hear "Ugh! Chips and queso sounds like a horrible idea. No thank you!" Uh...you don't.

That being said, I have a current food crush that I am not quite prepared to label a "craving" but that I can honestly say has never appealed to me before and possibly will never appeal to me again.

Meet the Pickle Pack.



Excuse me...pak. It's picklicious.

Allow me to explain. A few weeks ago I was at HEB and I purchased some lunchmeat from the deli. It just so happened that that day, with purchase of lunchmeat, one received some deli cheese and one indivudual picklepak cup free. I'm not a big pickle eater, but it was free so I took it. And a few days later, I saw it in the pantry and decided to eat it with my sandwich.

And I have never looked back! That picklepak was amazing. Little-bitty kosher pickles (served at room temp, never refrigerated I have learned) have become a staple of my diet. Are my hands and feet a little puffy from the extra salt that my new pickle habit has introduced into my diet? Yes. Do I care? No.

So while I don't consider my beloved picklets a craving, I will say that I am glad I was pregnant when I discovered my love for them because it makes it seem so much more acceptable. Regular girl walking around with a little plastic up full of mini-pickles--weird. Pregnant girl doing the same thing--makes total sense. I could even have an ice cream cone in the other hand and no one would think twice.

Pregnancy. You get fat but no one dares question your food choices. I shall enjoy my last few weeks of this.

Lovest Thou Me?

Me: Judah, do you love Mama?

Jude: mm-hmmm. And Daddy. And Addie.(Asher) And Ninie.(Simeon) And Nonny.(Thomas) And Peh-pee. (Percy)

Project Lemonade

This is what I have dubbed our backyard beautification project. It's a bit of a lemon back there. But not for long. As I have stated previously, this is the summer of embracing what we have and making it work. As you can tell, Jude is totally on board.

Step one was the planting of our little garden. I am so pleased to report that we have a tiny little pepper on one of the plants and the squash and tomatoes are beginning to flower.



Step 2 is creating some sort of patio or deck. That is still in the works. We're trying to decide what we want and what will be most cost-effective. I'm leaning towards a low wooden deck--a little more visually pleasing than just a plain concrete slab and probably a little less expensive. But since I will not be the one doing the work, it's not really my call. I serve in more of an advisory role.

Step 3 is putting up the canopy/gazebo thing we ordered. This will be placed over our hypothetical deck. Now, I must tell you, I have a very accommodating husband. There is very little the man will not do for me and do for me with a cheerful, willing heart. But I may have found his limit.

This is the hardware that came in the box for the assembly of the canopy.



He is not pleased.



But he gets to work anyway. Because THAT'S the kind of guy he is!



And that's basically it. Project Lemonade is modest in scope. We have the baby pools happening and Kris has the wood to build the sandbox. We have the boys' little picnic table out there and some outside toys. They are already having a blast.




Take this afternoon for example. As Kris was cutting out the canopy from its ridiculous amount of packaging, Asher and Jude were splashing around the baby pool and running through the sprinklers. What could be more fun, right?



Let's hear it for cheap plastic baby pools! Woo-hoo!