Thursday, May 14, 2009

Next Stop: The Kentucky Derby

....Because these hats just shouldn't be wasted. Merrie and I made them out of wrapping paper for the mother's day tea we threw for Grammy. Fancy Nancy says food tastes better when served with frilly toothpicks, and we found that this is true. (Peppermint tea also tastes better in a gilded bone china teacup, as it turns out. Who knew?)

Stock the Pond

It's Springtime in Pownal, Vermont at my parents' home (just ten minutes from ours). Just checking to see if the new brookies and rainbows will come to feed. Archer was feeling like a farmer boy on the tractor. Does Dane remind anyone else of Ronnie at this age?

Fashion Tip

Make sure your accessories mirror the colors of nature. Note how Meredie's hair bow happens to match the eggs in this robin's nest. Nobody does it better than Heavenly Father!


Baseball player.
Bass-drum toter.
Parade marcher.
Can Ian get any better at multi-tasking?

(By the way, his baseball season is already over. Ironically, it was the bass drum player pictured who threw an errant ball and broke Ian's finger. Bummer!)

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Does this qualify me for a new baby shower?

Like any expectant mom having her sixth baby, I was prepared. I went to the hospital with a list o’ names. We don’t like to have our babies named months before they make their appearance; in this high-tech age, some things have to be left to the last minute to make it exciting.

I wasn’t prepared to have each and every name shot down by my older boys when I whipped out that list on the day my baby was born. Here’s a handy hint for those of you bringing a new baby into a family with older children: DO NOT give your teenagers veto power in choosing names, because if you do, YOU WILL NEVER NAME YOUR BABY. Mistake!

Now I had a big problem. We had to choose a name in three days, starting from scratch, with the primary name chooser drugged and riding on about four cumulative minutes of sleep per night. Sounds like a recipe for choosing the wrong name under duress. And that’s pretty much what happened.

I never could admit to myself that no matter how many times I said it, “Cameron” felt wrong. I played endlessly with nicknames and was irked beyond what was reasonable when I met other Camerons his age and realized he might be relegated to “Cameron G.” in kindergarten. I assumed he would “become” his name over time, as all the other children did, and what was taking so long?

Joe and I finally looked at each other when he was ten months old and said “We should have named him Dane.” This had been the name we’d picked with hours left to go in the hospital and changed with the paperwork in front of me. And then I realized, why not? We can’t be the first people to change our baby’s name months after birth. Sure, it would be a little awkward at first, but everyone would get over it, and then he would finally have the right name. Can I tell you, I felt like a huge weight was lifted.

Oddly enough, the boys thought it was a great idea….we were prepared for some protesting but got none. It took us about two months of transition to call him Dane all the time and we still slip, even though we are keeping Cameron as his middle name. It’s going to cost $165 at the city court to change it legally, which we haven’t gotten around to but plan to do soon.

Happy first birthday, Dane! We can't be the only people who had this experience: I’d love to hear what everyone has to say. (However, if you’re a teenager saying you don’t like it, keep walking!)

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Death Match, I mean Easter Egg Hunt

It started out as a fun way for Meredith, Archer, and Ian to while away an Easter afternoon in Grammy's apple orchard in Vermont, and devolved into a no-holds-barred fight to the death for that last egg. Sigh.

While they were battling, I'm pretty sure Meri picked it up instead.

Grrr! Look at my pretty dress!

Had to take a pic of Meredie in the sweet dress Grandma made her....but I made the mistake of asking her to pose just after breaking the news that no, she wasn't allowed to take that grocery bag full of toys to church. Here's the result of asking her to smile. (Love the clenched fists.)