Good bye, Internet! Hello beautiful, quiet, incredible nature.

Question. Another girl, hey?

Answer. Yes, believe it or not the chances were 50/50 this time around too!

Question. Are you going to try again for a boy?

Answer. First of all, let’s take them one at a time, ok? Second, I remind you of the 50/50 thing. Third, girls are lovely and I’ve never been sure of the whole “one of each” thing. Fourth, how does one “try” for a boy or girl? Wait, don’t tell me. I have a feeling that involves some pretty graphic details. You know what, let me just call you when we are “trying” and you can give me advice then. Right at that moment. While we are “trying.” And fifth! You’re making me use too many quotation marks.

Question. Was Jacob disappointed this baby wasn’t a boy?

Answer. No. I’m disappointed that you are asking me such a stupid question though.

Question. Are you naming this one something totally weird too?

Answer. Yes, what’s your name? We’ll use that.

Question. Is Poppy really ready to be a big sister?

Answer. She rubs my belly and says “baby.” But she doesn’t really like anyone touching her things and she demands my attention 24/7, so uh, yeah. I think we’re in for a bit of an adjustment period.

Question. Three girls in the house! Poor Jacob is really in for it, huh?

Answer. You obviously don’t have a good grip on our family dynamics. Betcha can’t guess who cries more during movies? And don’t worry about Jacob too much. He’ll sync up his monthly cycle with the rest of us in no time.

People have said really nice things too, but I honestly can’t believe the amount of “boy” comments. I’m sure mothers of only girls or only boys out there can relate to my pain. It’s just completely weird how forward people can get on the subject. Alas, boys and girls are wonderful and we need them all. But please, stop with the comments! My children are unique and whole human beings with a variety of complex interests and personality traits. I’d rather you get to know their personalities then to comment on gender generalities and how crazy it will be for Jacob and all these girls. And the pink everywhere! And the hormones! And the dating! And the crying! And the AHHHH! GIRLS!

I just so happen to like them.

Another honest post from me. Are you shocked? Sunday night has rolled around again and I’m feeling a bit in the dumps. The mothering dumps. And why not share with the Internets because he always has a tissue and hot cup of tea to offer me.

My days and my weeks are becoming like one long run-on sentence of chasing and wiping and changing and reading-to and lifting and redirecting and feeding and cleaning-up and drying tears and helping and holding and quieting and cooking and washing and feeling exhausted.

I want to change my attitude, but it’s difficult when every week feels like the same thing over and over. I don’t get to leave my job at 5pm everyday. I don’t get a weekend that starts on Friday and ends on Sunday. I don’t get to turn the dial down, ever. Monday morning rolls around and I’m never ready. Sometimes I cry. Even a change of scenery doesn’t bring refreshment because I’m always, always MOM. What am I doing wrong? How can I change my approach? How can I change my heart? I feel touched-out, worn-thin, and run-down. And I feel guilty. What I do is important, and loving my daughters and my husband is a noble job indeed. Just sometimes, it’s hard and it’s hard to keep focus and it’s hard to be tired and to want a break so very badly. Even for a day.

Know what I mean?

And they stay in their jammies until noon sometimes…

And they refuse to eat anything except chocolate cake and bananas…

And they get sick and cranky and want to watch THE ELMO MOVIE a hundred times…

And they get mad at you for saying “No”…

And they are so, so, so, so the best people on the planet.

So, I’m tired. And prioritizing like nobody’s business. Making real time for real life people. Slowing down, being more present, staying healthy. I’ve cut out unnecessaries like Facebook, television, a perfectly-ordered home, pride, selfishness, and feelings of inadequacy. And instead I am focusing on my children, my husband, and our extended families. That’s it. Sometimes so many people need me and the only way to be there for everyone is to stop, slow down, and be brave. To go forward lovingly and intentionally knowing that everything that doesn’t matter will fall away. This concept makes more sense in my head than on paper, I think. But the idea is simple. Life is too precious and people are too important to let busyness get in the way. I am grateful for this lesson.

So if you are looking for me online, I am still here at Crunchy Cursive, of course. And I also keep my Flickr photostream fairly up to date. If there is one thing in my life that never stops, it’s all the adorable photo opportunities that Poppy presents in her quest for eternal cuteness.

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can’t do a handstand–
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said–
I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.

[It's not actually raining here today, but it might as well be]

While having tea and pie with my grandma last night, she said to me “Gardening is the most wonderful thing a pregnant woman can do. You have to get your hands in the dirt and just work with the earth. It will relax you and refresh you. You won’t be able to stop. I’m telling you, there’s nothing better.”

Jacob, Poppy and I spent all weekend working on our flower and vegetable gardens. We have so many new plants in the works. Tulips, forget-me-nots, wildflowers, POPPIES!, spinach leaves, peas, peppers, tomatoes, and strawberries to name a few. I’ve never planted anything in my life before and the experience has been surprisingly fulfilling and kind of addicting. I want to keep digging and planting. Little by little, year by year, we will grow our garden and feed our family from our own backyard. That is just so cool!

Just about every plant in our little garden is a gift from a friend or family member. This is truly a community garden! The forget-me-nots were originally from the garden at my grandma’s apartment. My mom took some of them for her garden. Then just yesterday my mom split some of the beautiful blue buds and gave them to me for my garden. Amazing, right? The tulip bulbs were a house-warming gift from our friends. The veggie sprouts are from their over-flowing baby vegetable garden too.

These small beginnings have me so encouraged. I love to watch things grow. The beauty of nature is truly stunning, especially when I get to see it to fruition.

The other day, I was remembering back to a post I published with the manifesto The Idle Parent by Tom Hodgkinson. And holy crapadoodle. This thing is amazing. And even more super amazing now that I’m living it out with this independent kid-child-girl.

And just as I was re-reading this manifesto, I stumbled across Lenore Skenazy’s blog Free Range Kids. And again, I say holy crapadan. I’m so happy people like this exist in the world. People who remember how they grew up and don’t feel afraid to say “Hey you SuperMom, let your kid be a kid for one second!”

Parenting is hard work, especially the constant I-Am-Responsible-For-This-Human-Being-At-All-Times nagging feeling. If I take Poppy out in public, there is a tremendous stress I feel to be constantly parenting her. Making sure she isn’t causing a disturbance or breaking some unwritten rule of society. Is she picking that kid’s NOSE? Making sure she is on her most perfect behavior so the woman at the deli will be happy with us and offer Poppy a piece of turkey to get us through the rest of the shopping trip. Or the stress to always be presenting a kid who is well-mannered, adorable, and likable. Ugh, likable. I hate that word. But it’s true, I feel this kind of pressure as a parent. And this pressure fights against my desire to treat Poppy with respect and to let her be who she is – a spunky, funny, inquisitive little toddler. That is so important to me too. It’s hard to balance my two Mom Suits.

Good manners, yes. Respect for others, absolutely. But cookie-cutter kids with no kid left in them? No way. Not for us.

I don’t know where I’m going with this post. Guess I just got a little crazy because I’ve recently added caffeine back into my diet. And so here I am on the Internets rambling about parenting.

Peace.

I am no green thumb. There you go. I’ve never owned a plant or kept a garden. Well, actually Jacob’s parents bought me a beautiful jasmine vine a few months ago and so far, it’s still alive! But other than that, nothing green has ever grown because I’ve willed it to.

This is what our backyard looks like now.

A most beautiful plum tree grows in the southwest corner, but that’s pretty much it. This year, Jacob and I really want to start a vegetable garden. It’s been a secret dream of mine for a while and now that we have the space, we can’t wait to get our hands dirty. Unlike other new ventures I’ve taken on in my life, I felt that starting a garden required Internet research. I don’t Internet research many subjects, but gardening? I mean, come on! I can birth and raise a baby without consulting the Googles, but a vegetable garden?! With live, growing vegetables?! Now it’s just silly to do that alone!

And so, after some research and poking about the yard, we’ve decided that a raised garden is best. Cleveland soil is yucky and an in-ground garden would be a lot of digging for poor Jacob. Then I came across this amazing idea straight out of Africa - keyhole gardens. Semi-circular, self-sustaining, raised gardens that work in just about any kind of landscape. Keyhole gardens can be small or large, but still give more planting space than their counterpart row-by-row beds. All of the surface area in the circular garden is accessible and there is no need for pathways or walkways within the bed.

I’ve found a great tutorial here. I’m not sure yet that we will do a true keyhole garden in the sense that it wouldn’t be waist-high. But I definitely love the concept and aesthetic of this kind of vegetable garden.

We’ve yet to decide on brick, stone, bamboo, wood or Poppy’s old socks as border material, but one thing is for sure, we are excited to get going! I’ll keep you updated and hopefully I’ll be munching on some yummy cucumbers by the end of the season.