What'd I tell ya?

When I wrote the part about skinned knees, I wasn't really thinking about myself. Here you have it. One bloody, gouged, inflamed, deep cut just below my knee, on my shin to be exact. Mee-maw and Poo-pa offered to keep the kiddos while we ventured down the Buffalo River in a canoe.

The trip began with our counter-parts (we will call them M and D, or my husband's bro and his better half) CRASHING into a bush and spilling out into the what looked like sub-zero temperatures and raging currents! Oh, yes, we hadn't even gotten 5 minutes down river and the first-time canoer gets a taste of the river and what it has to offer.

As for me and my "experienced" hubs, we are feeling crummy that it happened and we just know she hates our guts right about now. But also, if I might be honest, VERY GLAD it wasn't us! Being soggy-shoed and a clingy, drenched t-shirt did not look appetizing. Oh, man.

I just thought to myself, it is only a matter of time. We burst through the rapids, steering (a few times!) into them, feeling the rush of the canoe up and over the waves, screaming with our paddles in the air.

Just as sure as our heads were getting bigger, our time to dump was getting nearer and nearer. Then it happened. Too much water rushed into the boat. We were turned EVER SO SLIGHTLY, and boom, we were in the water. Ouch! What was THAT? No time to wonder, just get...............me.............out................of...............this.................brrrrrr!!!!! Ok, it probably was not as cold as it seemed, just took my breath away and I HATE to be cold. (I yell- um, I mean raise my voice) at my husband when he leaves the bathroom door opened when I am in the shower)

Anyway, my leg took a beating from something underneath, and man, was it WORTH IT!!!!!

Scram!!!!

Cute little white-tailed bunny rabbit. And another. And another. Munching, hopping, wiggling his nose, munching. What is it you are munching on cute little white-tailed bunny rabbit? Oh! No! Those are MY berries, rabbit, get out of there! Those are my HOSTAS, rabbit, shoo!! You are NOT welcome here. Scadaddle!!!!!

Sweet, sticky strawberries

One in my mouth, one in my hand.

Picking strawberries. Juicy, warm, plump strawberries. I'd like to tell you a cute little story about how the four of us went strawberry pickin' and how it was just soooo much fun and relaxing and how we are planning on doing it every Spring and how you should too. Instead........

No, not the green ones! The red ones, honey, the ones that are ALL red. No, don't step on the plant! Don't eat too many, your tummy might hurt! Stay with us, honey, stay in our row. Put down the rock, please. Here is one! Pick THIS one, see how it is all red? OK, that's probably enough, lets save some to eat later. How did that stem taste? Mmmmmmmmm. Wow, your shirt is..........oh, come back here! We want to leave the strawberries in the box to go pay for them. OK, no more eating out of the box. You have to pick it to eat it! Is your tummy full yet? Tell the woman thank you. Tell the man thank you for giving us baby wipes to clean up a little. OK, you are clean. Sit right here while I put your shoes back on......wait.....no.....not another strawberry. Squirt! Oh, wow....strawberries are sticky, and do you feel it over here on your ear? There. You don't mind being naked one bit, I know. Snap, snap, snap, other child snap, snap, snap. Let's go home!!!!!!!!!

OK, it really wasn't that bad........I had fun, sort of. But I'll admit the highlight was giving those berries out to people we love.

Moms love to do things with their kids, to teach them about how something grows and needs care and attention before it is ready to produce fruit. 16 month olds love stomping, smashing, and shoveling anything into their mouths, not just strawberries. They live for the here and now. Each day is about meeting somewhere in between.

Toddler on the Roof

OK. This is not my child on this roof. This is not my roof. The guy holding the child is that child's dad, and the guy standing proudly next to the dad is my dear husband. He helped the little boy up there by backing his truck just close enough to the garage, telling him to reach out his arms, and lifting him right on up, like he was lifting him onto the couch! The boy's mom, by the way, is standing in the driveway, seemingly unbothered by the fact. If my memory is correct she said something like "Um, he wants up there because you are up there" (The two adult little boys had been "working" on something). I can honestly remember thinking to myself, "Well, if I had a kid that age, I probably would have let him go up there with his daddy, too." I wanted to be laid back, to not be the mom that was always freaking out over little things. Ha! Now that I have two of my own, I now see this child as MUCH younger, MUCH too breakable, MUCH to fragile, and MUCH too LITTLE to be on top of a ROOF!!!!! Don't get me wrong, the boy's mom is a dear, dear friend of mine (and I will actually admit that I would probably still play it pretty cool if my older tot wanted dad to hold him up there for like a millisecond), but all I'm saying is that since I have become a mom, man, that roof looks a lot higher than it did before!