E

...is for Elisabeth. My sweet, silly, passionate, always-on-stage, strong little one. She's such a good sister. She amazes me every day. She is also a force of will. Oh, my. We butt heads much more than I care to admit. But how would I have learned so much about myself and the world and parenting and, oh, everything, without her strong presence?

...is for euphonium. (Or "muphonium," as Elisabeth says.) My husband's first instrument. He also plays trombone and can get around on the trumpet and tuba when he needs to. I have never been really inspired by brass instruments, but over the years of having this man as my life partner, I have learned to appreciate -- and really love -- the mellow, not-quite-as-brassy sound of the euphonium. It is so understated. Like him.

D

...is for dreadlocks. Didn't see that one coming, did you? I don't have my hair in dreads, but I have been dying to do it for about the last 5 years. The thing that keeps stopping me is that I know I'll have to shave my head when I'm done with them ... and me + shaved head = not interested.

...is for dolls. The dolls that I make, and the many hours that I spent in dollplay in my own childhood (and into my teens ... I had two younger sisters, afterall). I really believe that a doll is one of the only absolutely essential playthings for a child.

...is for Dave Matthews Band. Dave is my first true love. There are Dave Matthews songs to which I've listened literally thousands of times that still make me weak in the knees every single time. Want me to list them? Well, that would be a very long list indeed. Encyclopedia of Grace's Dave Matthews Obsession, anyone?

...is for date nights with my husband. We don't get nearly enough of these in my opinion. Favorite night out activity? For me, it would be a sushi restaurant, for him, probably Indian food. Maybe some live music, maybe a play? Or maybe just a chance to share some good, quiet conversation.

PS: Thank you for all your well-wishes regarding my kidney stone pain. I'm not in very much pain this week (I imagine the stone shifted and is not causing as much irritation now), and I have an appointment for next week to break the stone up. I'll still have to pass the fragments (yikes!), but I'm hoping it'll happen quickly and then I promise to drink more water.

C

...is for Christian. I go through phases of being more or less observant, but I find that it's something that I always come back to. I am pretty comfortable with blending other ideas into my spiritual outlook as I make my way on this journey, as well.

...is for cello. I started playing when I was 11. It immediately captured my focus and energy. It became apparent right away that I was quite talented. I grew up in a large city, though, and I was not the best teenage musician out there. My life as a musician, while on the whole extremely positive, is also tinged with disappointing experiences of being the one who was almost chosen, almost the best ... a lot of almosts. I probably could have tried harder; I could have practiced harder rather than relying on my talent (which turned out not to be limitless) to carry me. The professional world of classical music is competitive -- way too competitive -- and competition is just not good for my soul. This is probably why I got married and had children so young -- and I'm so much better for it. But I still love, love to play the cello, and I've learned that teaching private lessons and doing an occasional gig is about the right speed for me.

...is for cloth. Cloth diapers, that is. I pretty much love them. I think they are totally aesthetically pleasing (especially our many wool diaper covers), and honestly, they don't stink like disposables. Washing them myself is part of the experience, for sure. I'm a big fan of mama cloth, too. When I first made the switch, I couldn't believe I hadn't done it sooner.

...is for creating. Amber posted a few months ago about how one of the best ways to find a new career is to think about your childhood interests. Mine were definitely in creating. I loved to sew and draw and write and just make things. As I stepped into the competitive classical music world as a teen and young adult, I set aside -- left behind, actually -- so many of my childhood creative interests, and have only begun to re-explore them since becoming a mother. And for the first time -- probably since I was 14 and started having my "what am I going to do with my life" crisis -- I really feel like I am being true to myself. (Not that my musical life isn't true to myself, but I hope you'll understand what I mean. I'm already getting pretty long-winded.)

...is for Canon. Oh my, I love my Canon so much. Yes, I have been one of the unlucky ones to have experienced the Error 99 message. But, even so, I love the thing in a silly way. And I really must clean that mirror.

...is for cherry pie. Another thing I love in a silly way. I'm all about my grandmother's recipe. So, so good, and one of my only true family recipes. This pie is from 6 months ago. Time to make another!

{And, can you believe it -- I can't -- we've been having chilly autumn-y weather here for two days. Where has the summer gone?}

late summer :: late supper

Enjoying a leisurely evening on the front stoop. Bedtime postponed. Gifts of petals from my girl.

A dinner served later than usual. Grilled local peaches and pork. Carmelized balsamic vinegar on the peaches.

{I seem to feel better here and there, and rather than waiting until after my kidney stone procedure to get back to things around here, expect some light posting from me as I'm able.}

Update.

The kidney stone still hurts (surprise, surprise), though I do have some prescription pain medication to take when necessary.

I met my urologist today, who was a very kind, professional, and surprisingly young physician. He chatted very comfortably with my two wee ones about his own small children. He reminded me of a slightly less cuddly and definitely less calculatedly sullen version of this tv physician. I teach cello lessons on Thursday nights, and am not much of a television viewer anyway, but I do know enough of my current pop culture to be able to recognize (some of) the "Mc"s of Grey's Anatomy. ;)

So the plan is to do lithotripsy to break the stone up within the next couple of weeks. Until then, I just have to try to manage the pain.

So, back to ugh. At least I haven't thrown up in about 36 hours! Hey, at this point, I'll count my blessings however they appear.

Oh, and a big happy birthday to my friend Laura today!

Ugh.

Yesterday morning, not long after I made the B post live, I started having a horrible, acute pain in my side. I called my physician's office, and the nurse told me to come right in because it sounded like appendicitis. (My physician's office happens to be right next door to a hospital, which is lucky. Although, I might add, we very rarely see allopathic physicians.) Anyway, 6 hours, 2 CT scans, 3 x-rays, a blood test and a urine test later, we found out that I didn't have appendicitis afterall, but the largest kidney stone my physician had ever seen. It's too big to pass, so I have an appointment with a urologist tomorrow to decide what to do with it. Hopefully we can get the pain (and frequent throwing up -- ugh) taken care of soon and I'll be back with the letter C early next week.

Take good care in the meantime, friends! I'm off to bed!

B

...is for breastfeeding. I cannot imagine the last 5 1/2 years of parenting without it. I'm fairly certain that my wee ones couldn't, either. It's such a wonderful way for us to connect, relieve stress (for mama and babe), oh, and there's that whole "nature's perfect food" thing, too. Breastfeeding looks so different with a toddler than with a tiny newborn, but it's still such an important part of our relationship.

...is for berries. I'm much more of a vegetable lover than a fruit lover, but berries are the exception. Our plan for this week is to get over to our local organic pick-your-own for raspberries and late-season strawberries.

...is for breakfast. I'm in a bit of a breakfast rut at the moment. Elisabeth always wants pancakes, which I am fairly opposed to making every day (lack of protein and all that). Looking at this photo of yummy, cinnamony millet porridge and applesauce cheers me up a bit, though. If I just made this a week ago, the rut can't be too deep yet! Oh, and we have fresh berries in our breakfast to look forward to this week!

...is for blog. What a wonderful experience blogging has been for me so far! I can't believe how many wonderful people I've met and how motivating it has been for me in my life -- in so many arenas. I love blogging & blogland.

A

Inspired mainly by Erin, I've decided to play along with the Encyclopedia of Me. I'm going to use this as an opportunity to finally send the camera in to Canon and get that mysterious error message taken care of! I've photographed for almost all the posts already, planner that I am! ;)

... is for amethyst. This is my birthstone. I've worn an amethyst ring on my right hand for the last 9 years or so. When I was pregnant with James, I worked overnight shifts as a nurses' aide for a time, and one night the stone fell out of the ring I'd worn all those years. Last summer, when my depression was getting so bad, I really began to miss this thing that had come to define a part of who I was. Then my husband gave me this new one for our 7-year anniversary, and I have never taken it off again. I love it so very much ... it ties together my past, present, and future so neatly and is representative of both negative and positive aspects of my life. So, it's very meaningful to me.

...is for Anne of Green Gables. I discovered Anne when I was 8, and the influence of these books has continued to live on in my life in a big way.

...is for "all better". Inspired by an idea in this book, I created this basket of first aid and other "feel better" remedies when Elisabeth was quite tiny. We use the arnica and the Rescue Remedy more than anything else. But there's a good supply of other useful items, especially a variety of colorful bandaids, our most commonly used essential oils and homeopathic remedies, teething aids, and so on. To quote Mitten Strings for God, "The wicker basket, stored high on a bathroom shelf, invokes a ritual -- it means that time will be taken to ease a pain, that I care, that I will do my best to bring comfort." So true. So important.

Newly Sewn

We have a new sewer in our house. Elisabeth has been dying to learn to sew on the machine, and we finally gave it a go this week.

She decided to make a bag to carry stuffed animals around in. I let her choose any fabric she wanted, and any ribbon for straps, and she chose this plain pink cotton and polka-dot grosgrain ribbon. And, ever observant, she back-tacked, turned down the top edge of the bag before asking me to pin the ribbon in place, and even selected a zigzag stitch there at the top -- all with practically no help/input from her mama. (Sob.) I did find myself hovering more than I meant to, but I just couldn't stop myself.

Well, with a new bag, a new coin purse was the next order of business. Again, with essentially no help from me:

I was even a little surprised when she figured out how to cut this buttonhole slit. But it really took her just a moment or two of consideration.

Since Elisabeth is such a budding fashionista, it's probably only appropriate that she's starting young with design and construction. ;)

Yard Envy

My friend Laura has the most beautiful backyard. While she definitely has a talent for gardening, I love the small details in her yard even more. A little fairy peeking out here, some fun little stump mushrooms there.

As much as I moan and complain about not having a yard (we've only lived in a free-standing house with a yard for 10 months of our 8 year marriage), the one good thing is that when we finally do move to a place with a yard, no matter how big or small, I have a friend whose established yard greatly inspires me. Oh, and who has already agreed to help me plan and execute mine when the time comes. (Right, Laura?)

Oh, and look at the photo on the bottom right corner. It's one of Erin's twirly skirts, which Laura made beautifully for her daughter. Who is, might I add, in first grade this year. Where does the time go?

Late Birthday Gifts

One of our family's favorite little boys turned four in July. Between busy summer schedules, a gift that didn't arrive in time, a few cancellations, teething little ones in both families, and so on, we hadn't had the chance to give him his gifts until yesterday.

Pelle's New Suit is a big favorite at our house. The text is simpler than in some of Elsa Beskow's other books. I love the story of a boy shearing his own sheep and then bartering chores with family and friends to have the wool made into a new suit, from carding to spinning to dyeing, and finally being made by the tailor.

I thought it would be great fun to pair this book with some raw wool, some hand carders, and instructions for dyeing with kool-aid. From there, it's up to him. He comes from a pretty crafty family, so I'm sure they'll make good use of their new fairy wool. Happy belated birthday ~ and wool working ~ little man!

Dog Days

They call these the Dog Days of Summer.

For some, including my husband, they signal the beginning of school/work once again. I am grateful to have the luxury with Elisabeth and James to savor each day of summer as it slips away without having school as a fixture in our lives right now. Someday perhaps things will change, adjustments will be made ... but for now, August is still summer for the three of us.

We are lucky to have other friends whose children aren't in school (either not yet or not at all) with whom to spend these days, playing, creating, and discovering.

Knitting Stuff

Ugh, I hate the spew-y tone of yesterday's post, so I have decided to come out and do a Saturday post. Time for some sunshine! (Oh, but thank you for all of your sympathy.) Wanna see some pictures of me knitting?

I know I said some time ago that I've been doing some knitting here and there with nothing to share yet. The knitting shown here, and its deadline (today) is not really related to that. It's not exactly "pleasure knitting" (though any chance to knit is, admittedly, lovely). The story is, I was hired to teach knitting at my local Jo-Ann starting this fall. Wild, huh? Especially to me, since I still have so much to learn about knitting (in my opinion). But I know enough to teach the basic knitting classes that they offer there. Anyway, this week, I finally decided to knit up the samples for the classes as today is the class showcase/demo, where they advertise their classes and teachers to the public and try to get people to sign up. I admit, I'm rather a yarn snob. I really could not get into the "squeaky" feeling of these synthetic yarns as I knit them up (being corporate, Jo-Ann has specific projects and supplies for each class they offer).

Anyway, I am actually really looking forward to teaching these classes. It'll be a chance for me to earn a bit of craft money (must. buy. fabric.) and work on my own knitting during class. I'm a person who can easily get into a place where I dread having things "on my schedule", but this shouldn't be too bad. Only a few times a month, I'm reminding myself.

Bloggy Stuff

I finally decided to add a blogroll. (Down there in the right sidebar ... with squillions of blogs, see it? Could you really miss it?) This is something I have really struggled with since beginning the blog because, at first, I didn't know many of you and only read the "usual" blogs. Then I started getting a complex about if I added a blogroll, who would be left out? Certainly someone. Then I thought I'd try doing a rotating short list. But, seriously, I doubt I'd ever rotate it. So, I finally decided to throw one together today. This certainly does not comprise every blog I've ever read or ever hope to read, or even everyone I subscribe to over on Bloglines. But it's a start. And it's awfully long. Yikes.

Now on to a more complainy bloggy thing. When I first named this blog, I checked a number of avenues to make sure it wasn't in use. I have always had the intention of setting up the domain (i.e. uncommongrace(dot)com), and made sure it wasn't already in use at the time that I started the blog. I had never gotten around to buying my domain name because it was just another expense, la-di-da, until last night, that is. So, now someone has gone out and purchased this domain name (since I originally checked its availability) and is using it to advertise a certain domain hosting company. There is no content on it besides these advertisements. Not to be too conspiracy-theory-ish, but I think it was purchased by one of those entities that buys up domain names so that when the actual person comes along who wants to use it, they'll have to buy it back for a large (to me, at least) sum of money. The owner of this domain name is private ... protected by one of those "proxy" companies. When I found this out last night, I was so disappointed and upset.

Edited to add: My husband later did a little search and it appears that the domain is actually owned by GoDaddy. My guess is that when I originally checked with them for the domain availability but then didn't buy it, it tipped them off that someone was interested in purchasing this domain, and they snatched it up. They offer a "service" that will allow me to "bargain with the owner" of the domain name. It would cost me a few hundred dollars to go about it this way. Sneaky, right?

We are going through a rough week here, anyway. Daddy is back to work this week. (New job! Scary!) James is teething and seems to have roseola. I have a knitting deadline to fulfill for tomorrow. And now my domain is stolen from me! There are a lot of tears in our house right now.

Spinning Some Tales

I was always a child who narrated my play to myself and invented stories with flowery language as I drew. But as I grew up, it seems that lack of use has caused this skill to dwindle.

As a mother, I have come to recognize how much a story created by me, spun forth out of my own experiences and love, can hold and nourish my children. They hunger for the truth that comes from these interactions, from stories that are made just for them. Just as I have tried always to feed them nutritious foods, so too do their souls need to be fed. Spontaneous storytelling seems to feed their spirits in a very special way.

And yet, I struggle with it so much. I struggle with telling a story that is not contrived, but unfolds in a meaningful way. I stumble over words, and with coming up with just the right language to convey a tale beautifully and simply. I long to create images with detail that will go on to live in my children. And it's hard work for me.

And then, on our camping trip in July, something simple, quiet, and marvelous snuck into me. Laying in our tent and looking out at the sky at bedtime with Elisabeth and James, I found for the first time a story that was authentic and true for all of us, a story that seemed to breathe right from the three of us, wove itself into our imaginations, and lived there with us. The story of a chipmunk family who lived in a cozy nest and took a vacation across a field to a tree stump. Oh, so simple. Gentle adventures. An animal family that mirrored our own. Nothing extraordinary. But magical, nonetheless.

Since then, I still find myself struggling with storytelling, but I have a new commitment to learning this art. I've had this book for a really long time, and have thumbed through it lots, but I've decided to finally read it more consciously and really work at storytelling. Yesterday a friend and I were talking about this, and the idea of a storytelling class came up, as well. So maybe we'll try that. For now, I am going to keep working at it. This kind of creating is oh-so-important -- just as important to my children as anything I knit or sew or bake for them.

Most of the photos in this post come from an afternoon last week spent at a park with my sister's girls, telling stories (some made up, some variations on fairy tales, some just pure silliness) and enjoying popsicles together. I learned so much from that afternoon of storytelling with these four little ones.

Storytelling, like parenting (and life, right?) is really about taking chances, putting yourself "out there", and jumping in. Sometimes the results are sheer magic. Sometimes the results are ... well, not. But you always learn something, and it's just about always worth it.

Mom's Patchwork Trivets

When my mom had her birthday a few weeks ago, Elisabeth (inspired by recent quilting afternoons) raided her own fabric stash (yes, my 5-year-old has her own stash. Doesn't yours?!) and chose her very favorite orange gingham to give to her Mimi as a birthday gift. But first she cut it up into little scraps "for Mimi to use for making a quilt".

My mom could have just let the little gift go, but she was so touched by it that she decided to make two patchwork trivets (one for herself, and one for Elisabeth) using the best scraps. Since there weren't many usable scraps of the orange gingham, she built these using other scraps she had in her stash (we are a family of stashers, by the way), with a lot of pink (all of our favorite color -- are you surprised?) and some doggies added for good measure. Aren't they cute? And oh-so-useful, especially as we're entering the season of warm comfort foods. (Are we really?)

Breaking the Routine

Sometimes in the sweltering heat of August, you just have to pack up and go get some ice cream before bed. (Sorbet or popsicles for those of us with dairy allergies.) Pajamas required. Princess attire optional.

Sometimes when you return home, all sticky and satisfied, the sky will look really cool and you'll try to snap a picture, even if the results aren't quite what you'd hoped for.

"Owie!"

We've been hearing that word a lot this week. It seems that our little one is really struggling with teething right now. His gums are so very swollen, and he's feverish and sad, which in turn makes the rest of us so sad. Oh, and tired. Poor little guy can't sleep. So neither can Mama and Daddy.

Every child is so different, and the learning curve of parenthood is so steep. Despite our little guy's generally mellow temperament (in contrast to his big sister's very intense temperament), this is our first experience with difficult teething. Elisabeth's teeth seemed to just appear as if by magic. No one ever knew she was teething. And by 12 months old, she had a full mouth of teeth. But with this little boy ... each tooth has been so very difficult. We have gone through tubes of teething gel and bottles of teething tabs, and his trusty amber necklace has been his constant companion for the last 11 months. Not to mention cool wash cloths, an amber-studded teething ring, rescue remedy, lavender oil (one description here -- it shouldn't be used directly on the gums or taken internally) ... And still, teething just plain hurts. It is so hard to be a mama and to look into the eyes of your hurting wee one with no solution to offer.

OK, only 8 oops, I meant 10 more teeth to go. Be brave, little buddy. We will offer you all the comfort we can give.

PS: More on the benefits of amber to teething babies and toddlers here & here.

Good Morning, Good Night

I love: exquisitely scrumptious banana bread with chocolate and cinnamon sugar and watermelon for breakfast. I especially love it when said exquisitely scrumptious breakfast was prepared the night before while watching a movie with my husband. I love a cozy porridge-y breakfast, and I really, really love poached eggs and grits. But not having to get up and make breakfast on a summer morning? Mmmm, priceless.

I love: when someone suggests tea before bed on a stormy summer evening (I love summer thunderstorms, by the way), and my wee ones and I snuggle down in our cool sheets with our warm tea for some favorite stories (this book was mine when I was wee, and I just love the illustrations beyond explanation). What a lovely way to finish off a summer day.

A Really Good Evening

With our wee ones off to my sister's for the evening, my husband and I were able to go out and celebrate a leisurely anniversary dinner together last night. (Thanks for all of your sweet, sweet anniversary wishes, by the way!)

I love that we have so much to talk about, and I love even more that we can be so easy in our silence together, too. It's one of the untold blessings of marriage, I've discovered. Last night during dinner, when there was a pause in the conversation, it wasn't the awkward silence of having nothing to say to one another ... but the peaceful silence of not needing to say anything.

Good food, good drink, good conversation, good quiet ... good times.