Of Houses and Washing Machines

Just about every wife and mother worry about "vital" equipment failing from time to time. You hear the mini-van making noises on the way to soccer practice and send up a silent prayer that it'll limp through another season. Or the vacuum starts spitting out dust and you immediately go into panic mode and try to clean every hose and nosel in an attempt to unclog whatever is malfunctioning. For me, the "Oh-please-Lord-let-it-last" prayer has been said many times over the washing machine. Between the kids, the dog, and the cloth diapers, that poor machine sees more than it's fair share of work. It's been patched and duck taped more times than I wanted to admit, but when it finally refused to drain water (with a full load of dirty diapers in it), I knew it was time to call in the big guns. Unfortunately, it was Friday afternoon. Nothing is open here, so we had to go all weekend and Monday (public holiday) without a washer. The repair men came and I promise you, I nearly cried when I found out that it would cost more to fix than to buy a new machine. I nearly cried because had I known that on FRIDAY, I would have made a plan. But everything got sorted out, Todd met me for a washing-machine-hunting lunch and soon, I was back in the business of cleaning dirty clothes.

The box from the machine, however, became of great interest to the shorter members of the Leslie house. So Todd obliged and cut out a door, windows (because apparently Cooper isn't too keen on being in the dark) and even attached a Coleman lantern for the kids. There are times when you're so thankful you keep the camera out and ready, just in case, and this was one of those times. The giggles and laughter that can only come from a too-tall Daddy squeezing into a too-small house for the sake of his kids, brought me away from my sewing machine and I stumbled onto the most beautiful scene...

of my family crammed into the washing machine box/house reading and playing with blocks.

Daddy was a good sport and kept reading, even through the elbows, knees and other boney appendages that kept stabbing him in the ribs, stomach, and thighs.

Not sure how much longer the house can withstand the constant abuse but I'm pretty sure this is something the I'll look back on fondly for a long time to come... and Todd will be nursing the bruises almost as long!

14-Inch Mistakes

With each kid, I realize more and more that I'm a decorator. I love to pick out fabrics and get exactly what I see in my head. I LOVE everything we did when we were expecting Cooper. I loved the painting Todd did, and I loved working on all the surfboards and sewing the bumper and all the rest. In fact, Cooper is still IN those things, which could be an issue. He's not ready to be out of a crib, although I know that by home assignment this coming February, I'll need to get him ready for a "real" bed.

In the meantime, though, a friend here in South Africa gave us her antique crib (SIDS advocates, don't panic, promise, it'll be okay). She used it for her kids, but her youngest is 3 now and no longer needs it. I love the dark stain, I love that it has a removal side, and I love that it's four-poster. Before Em was born, I was a serious proponent of the ideas behind helping a baby soothe them-self to sleep, be in their own room, and all the rest. After getting two kids (JUST 2) out of infancy, I'm convinced that there are just as many temperaments and sleep patterns for infants as there are books about getting an infant to sleep well. I gave up on trying to use books to figure my kids out, and I was so much more... settled when I did. So with this one, I've thrown in the towel before beginning the race! I'm not going to try and fight to get this baby to sleep in his/her own crib in his/her own room because... well, I'm out of rooms. And, it takes me forever to fall asleep again once I've had to get up in the middle of the night to feed and then put a kid back down. So, I'm following my friend's advice, and I took the one side off the crib. It'll be pushed up against my side of the bed at night as a modified co-sleeper type. The only problem is, if babe is asleep, but Todd or I want to read or have the light on, that might cause issues. So I bought some black-out curtaining and have been working for three days to make a canopy cover. I figured this way, I can close off the babe (especially since our room is the brightest room in the house!) and still have use of the bedroom. I stumbled across a really cheap duvet a few months after we got here, but I didn't know what I was going to do with it. I've also carted some khaki curtains my folks bought for me when I was 19 from California to Illinois, then to Kansas, and now to South Africa. They've served as everything from curtains to pillows to table cloths, and now on to canopy cover.

But, as always, there's a fatal flaw. I measured from the bottom of the front green valance instead of from the top railing. So now, I'm three days into work, exhausted and sick of looking at this khaki/green/teal conglomeration of fabric, and I have to go back and fix my 14-inch mistake. Sometimes, life feels like it's a series of 14-inch mistakes all piled up on top of each other. You say the wrong thing, at the wrong time, or to the wrong person. You get to the grocery store check out only to realize you don't have your wallet. You go to change a kid's diaper only to discover that you grabbed a diaper bag that didn't get packed after it's last use. But what I'm coming to realize is that even though you made a mistake, a 14-inch mistake which shouldn't be that big of a deal, but after so much work seems monumental, it doesn't take away the work you put in. Often times with my kids, I wonder if they'll ever "get" the lesson I'm trying to teach them, and when they don't, again, it's like another 14-inch mistake after so much work. But the work is laying a foundation, and just because they didn't say "please" or forgot to wash their hands, it doesn't mean that some day they won't... and when that day comes, I'll forget about all of those 14-inch mistake moments when I felt like a failure because the time, the energy, the work will have all been worth it.

Outfit of Many Colors

Recently, Em's closet went from nearly bare (due to a random growth spurt no one saw coming) to overflowing. We received a few packages from College Church, another from Grandma, another from Grammy and then some more hand-me-downs from two friends of mine here. Now, the girl has more clothes to pick from than I do... but Todd reminds me that with less than a month to go (YIKES!) I too will have clothes again very soon.

Another recent turn of events has been Em's interest in fashion. In particular, her own. I haven't given over dressing duties entirely, but she is more and more insistant on dressing herself. We've been working on "matching" things (like socks) with much success. Actual clothes, though... sometimes she nails it, other times, she comes down with a pastel purple shirt (which matches the shorts that came with) to a pair of electric purple pants (again, that have a match), and she doesn't understand why purple and purple don't go together. Despite the set-backs, we're pushing on. I'm so thankful that she is now equipped with material to test her new skills, as well as be warm for the coming winter! She put this little number together for church, but I made her wear different shoes.

"I love my boots... I love my boots... I love my boots" sung to the Veggie Tales tune of "I Love My Lips"

This reminds me (and Todd for that matter) of another little girl (actually, she's big now, but used to be small) who would give this same expression, complete with the feathers-masquerading-as-hair when told to smile.

Strike a pose!

6:09am

At 6:09am, Todd came into the bedroom holding Cooper. The two of them collapsed on the bed, and as soon as Todd's head hit the pillow, bellowing from his cargo began echoing through the room. All Cooper could muster was a wailing and pitiful, "Daaaaaddddaaaaaaaa!!!" After ruling out injury, diaper and the likes, it occurred to me that last night, Cooper hadn't eaten much dinner (we'd had company over and he was totally distracted). As soon as Todd asked him if he wanted to go get food, Coop sat straight up, pointed to the door and emphatically blurted, "Daaddaa, milk!!!"

Once fed, he was much more pleasant. The kid may look like his dad, but he has his mom's priorities on food!

When Dad's Away...

Todd has been up in Kenya for a few days. Which means a few things. 1) I haven't cooked since he left. I made a big batch of mac-n-cheese with veggies and chicken in it, and we've been munching on that and PB sandwiches for pretty much a week. The kids don't mind and it's been blazing hot, so I'm not about to turn on the oven or stove. 2) The kids are in bed by 7, but since Todd normally does the bath-bed-story routine, it's never right and they're up and down for at least three more hours. 3) I get bored and turn to getting things organized, which then turns to making things in order to get rid of things that must be organized.

I don't know how to sew, but I have this great new machine and google. I also have all the clothes that have fallen apart, mostly from Todd, stashed for whatever. And, I made the sorry mistake two weeks ago of buying a bulk package of thin fleece throw blankets in hopes of turning them into kids pajama pants. I say sorry because now I have what feels like a hundred fleece projects and this babe is due before Easter. Lent tells me I'm going to run out of time. Oops. Oh well I guess. As I was cleaning and sorting through the bits of this and that in the "craft/sewing" cupboard (don't give it too much credit, it's small and the kids play with it so things disappear frequently), I came across a pair of denim jeans that Todd has had since the 90s. They had more than a few holes and a large gash at one of the knees, but its denim and I loathe paying for denim. But, lets face it, there's a reason why you buy denim and there's a reason why it's expensive. The stuff is hard to work with!

Now, remember, I have no pattern (because I don't know how to read them and don't tell me they're "easy" because to me, they're not... I need to take a class, but that will have to wait a bit!) and Cooper was mostly asleep during these sewing sessions. Normally, I sew a bit, rip out seams, sew some more and then try it on a kid who screams at a pin I'd forgotten. I made these a bit big (and apparently with a 70s bellbottom-vibe to them) so that Cooper can grow into them. I also lined them because this boy of mine is constantly moving and constantly losing shoes/socks/hats/shirts/pants/whatever he has a mind to get rid of. It's so frustrating.

I got to the hem, and realized I don't know how to hem either. So... we folded and stitched, and then folded up one more time because I made them long enough to (hopefully) last through the coming winter.

But, as you can see, pocket placement is apparently one of those things where you really, really should take the time and wait so see where they should go instead of just guessing. Glad he won't actually use them since anything that gets put in those bad-boys will be sitting just at his knee crease. Hehe!!!

And all through this 'photo shoot', poor Lani was banished to her pillow because otherwise, I inevitably get a tail in every picture. She was so sad and pitiful looking that right after this picture, Cooper crawled up with her to make her feel better. LOVE these two together!

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Almost every time we receive a package/letter from someone in the States, there is attached an, "I'm sorry I didn't get this to you sooner" type of note. The thing is, every last one has been in perfect timing. It's amazing how great God is to orchestra something so small as detours on the way to the mail for a few days, so that whatever encouragement is sent comes at JUST the right time. I received a package from my mom, and it came right as the kids were getting better, but that meant that I was drowning in toy-sterilization, sheet/blanket/pillow/stuffed animal washing and no food in the house since I'd been holed up with two sick babies for days. Even though it was blazing hot, as soon as I opened the box and saw the hot apple cider packages, I made one and sat down to indulge in the goodies.

It was so nice to be able to pretend-shop through the box. It was so much fun and exactly what I needed. It was rather comical, as I reached the bottom of the box, to find these...

The idea that these pants were made in Africa, shipped to the States, and then back to Africa... I don't know. Something about it made me laugh out loud, and it had been days since I was able to let loose and laugh. It was one of those things where you thank the Lord for the perfect timing of sparkly-pink toddler pants made in Kenya and thank Mom for being mom and sending the sparkly-pink pants (because she's Gran and thus, knows your child's affinity to show off her panties at church!).

Green Kind of Day

I seriously love using cloth diapers for a number of reasons, but one is for moments like this when the stars aline and your kid chooses to be super cute in his big sister's rain boots and his perfectly matching diaper!

These boots were made for walking... so here I come!

Mom knows that when I'm THIS cute, I can get away with just about anything, including playing with her cell phone :) "Grammy... is that you?"