The Refuge

In the p.k. (pre-kids) era, a bath was a refuge and my daily sybaritic ritual. The shelves were filled with luxurious soaps, scented oils and every possible potion to soothe the senses and envelope in luxury. I dreamed of a bathroom laden with Byzantine frescoes and marble columns with a deep infinity tub and Kohler’s latest waterfall taps, heated tiles and lush towels.

While the frescos are (tastefully) missing, my tub at home is heaven. However a far different version than what I had once envisioned.

The Jacuzzi jets have been reclassified as ‘the bubble making machine’

The statues, um, drip:

Splish splash wars reign supreme:

Many scientific experiments are conducted.

ie. The taste and texture of bubbles:

The window from which I would watch the eagles fly over the trees are now a canvas for sudsy Rorschach tests as Tingu flings a handful of suds against the window and cries out "What does it look like, Mommy, what does it look like?"..."Um…a T-rex eating a lollipop, the state of Montana…. which is now melting….. into a snake …on the telephone."...followed by the inevitable "Why?"

Ah, heaven.

Seeds

The last year was tough. A new baby and a two year old plus a traveling husband and a demanding career at a new company left me tired. Not that I didn’t enjoy it but I don’t remember it! Ok, that is a bit of a joke, as I honestly do have fantastic support but when Hunie turned 1, I knew that mommy bootcamp was over! So in my inaugural comeback year, I decided to start a garden amongst many other things.

I started with the essentials…mint (for caipirinhas, of course!) and peonies. This is the same logic that prompted B to purchase a grand piano and no other furniture in our new house for the first two months. I call this the ‘how to make someone illogically happy’ logic (even if they may be hungry and have a sore bottom from sitting on the ground)! This kind of happy carries me through all kinds of rough spots. Perhaps Mary Antoinette was trying to make the same point but just got misinterpreted. Anyway, in style, was the fact that the mint was also donated by my mother (thank you very much!) See what I mean about support?

Hunie helping me dig in the dirt – it felt good!



Huns, ironically, a bit perturbed by some dirt –



Cracking himself up after stealing his Dad's shoe:

experimental gardening...



yup, he decides to go for it and takes huge handfuls of sand and throws it down his diaper:



The essential aeration:



Now for some tomatoes...

I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny...

My ipod was loaded and charged to start my official half-marathon training program this morning with a good run through the park. (Un)fortunately it rained. So, nature dictated I got my preferred work-out style: chasing and tossing the children around with Lady Gaga in the background.

The rain poured down but we enjoyed the pollen-wash!

The guys getting their rain gear on:





Hunie desperate to be let out:



The backyard backs up to the Chattahoochee National Reserve. The photos don't do justice to how lush and green the forest looks before a storm:



After we romped around for a bit in the rain, chalked up the front porch (ie. Hunie eating chalk, Tingu trying to trace an ant) the boys reluctantly came inside and we proceeded to do what you do on a rainy day with two little boys.

We jumped on beds:





Tingu demonstrated his golf prowess with a recorder and a spare wheel:



Seriously, a cardboard box and the dollar store toys still reign supreme in my house:



So yes, I am starting to slowly dismantle their glutenous play room. I really did have all intentions of being a minimalist-mom but somewhere along the way it started making all the sense in the world that Tingu would need his own tool bench, art desk, a bouncing horse and spinning zebra. My sister's reminders to focus on the second child have been deeply ingrained in my mind so Huns got some rocking horses and that is a deliberate plural. Throw in birthday parties, generous cousins, aunts and uncles plus the grandparents factor and they must have nearly four of everything. Anyway, I am going to start getting rid of it and my goal is to focus those funds into raising some money for the smile train foundation.

Tingu perfecting his 'please, please, please' look:



This resulted in me allowing them to make a big pile of cushions, folded laundry (sorry, B!)and anything else their little chubby hands could carry and throw into their beloved 'pile':



Hunie getting in on the action!


I'd like to say I was a strict disciplinarian who then got them to clean up the colossal mess but alas, that is not me. We had a blast and I cleaned it up!



So for those of you with experience out there, this (obviously) did lead to a very hyper child. So I took my little wildman outside and hoped the cool breeze and damp, beautiful post storm weather would calm his little soul. I was lucky this time as it worked and Tingu and I had a lovely dinner on the front porch listening to the rain trickle down to the creek. Actually,to be honest, there was a moment of serenity where we listened to the rain then the three year old inquisitiveness kicked in and between bites of peas we had to mentally dissect what everything was made out of ...what are leaves made out of? Sidewalks, concrete, clouds, birds and the list went on!

Wasn't it Emerson who noted,’ There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep'. I close this post on that happy note!