A bedtime story

So finally it happened. Something that has never happened before, for us. Not saying I'm proud of it, or anything. I guess it just means I can sympathize with other parents in yet another of these "oh crap" parenting situations.

We had one of those days. You know. The kind where you collapse into bed and wonder at how on earth you (and your offspring) survived the day.

The Bean has arrived at the place where she needs between one and two naps a day. This adds to our daily disaster in strange and frustrating ways.

It was only six in the evening and she was froot-looping it bad. Bouncing off the walls (literally), laughing like some kind of evil maniac who had escaped the psycho ward (she is my daughter, after all), shaking the kitchen table so violently she spilled the boys cups... she stopped, briefly, when she heard our rooster crow. She crowed back at him through the window, and then went racing into the other room and attacked the furniture.

It was too early for bedtime but really, what could I do?

We use flat cloth diapers during the day, but at night she uses her Cadillac of a cloth diaper, the BumGenius 3.0. We have only one. I wash it every day. It has velcro closures. She likes to take it off as soon as I put it on her.

The plot thickens...

It was hot in the house. HOT. And humid too.

I made a gut wrenching decision to put her to bed in only her diaper. Why? Because she was so darn tired, I knew she was going to just go right to sleep once I laid her down. Plus, her short sleeved onesies that I normally lock her diaper into were all dirty, so I really had no other option.

We did our thing, she was sufficiently distracted, and to bed she went like a happy obedient little snuggly lamb.

Appearances can be deceiving.

Forty-three freaking minutes later she let loose a blood-curdling screech.

FAIL! I knew what it meant.

I snuck up the stairs and peeked through the crack of her barely open door, only to see her bare naked little crack peeking back at me. Sure enough, there were two wet puddles in her bed. She'd nailed her favorite blankie, along with the discarded BumGenius, but the party had been much wilder than that.

She had pooped.

Had she not squealed mid-squish with the poop in her hand, it would have been far worse. Sometimes the only way I stay sane (I mean, beyond my normal level of insanity) is by convincing myself that it could always be worse. Always. It could be. How that would be possible, I'm not always sure, but it helps to imagine it anyway.

The party travelled with her into the tub, nearly an hour after I put her to bed.



With the BumGenius out of service, I panicked, but then rejoiced upon finding a disposable diaper in the bottom of our diaper bag. I gathered up her bedding and remembered that I was out of laundry soap. It's not a big deal. I make my own. Why was the jug empty? Because I am queen of not doing something now if I can put it off until later. Later had arrived.

Things could always be worse.

My husband was home. He chaperoned her bath-tub party so I could take care of all the dirty business. Thank God. And then he put the boys to bed while I snuggled my little force-of-nature a second time.

And wouldn't you know it, there was a short-sleeved onesie in her dresser, the entire time.

Facing myself

Pushing onward from this post.

I have this super-cool framed mirror that I bought at an antique store, eleven years ago or something like that. It's not even really an antique, but it's just so fancy and classy, I love it so much.

Opposites attract, you know.

I had this idea to prop it up against a tree.

I had to take the Bean with because it was nearly supper time and that is one task which she has declared cannot be completed without her in my arms. {sigh} I try, people, I really do try.

So here is me, the momtographer.



I like that she's out of focus, and I am forcing myself to be the subject. It's usually all about the kids.

Please also link back to me in your post so others can join in too! Also, the few of you who want to play, I would love to continue this self-portrait adventure in a community setting. Maybe weekly is too much. Let me know what you think. Monthly?

On forgiving

I've mentioned that my boys have been fighting non-stop lately. After time-out they are required to apologize and forgive one another, and most of the time, I believe they honestly mean it. They've gotten as good at becoming friends again as they are at being mean to each other.

Practice makes perfect, I guess.

One day recently when the mosquitoes were particularly bad, my oldest boy was flopping around the house, moaning and complaining because I wouldn't let him outside to play. The mosquitoes were that bad. I could have dipped him in a vat of DEET and they would still have eaten him alive.

"Mommmmmmmy, I wish there was no mosquitoes. Ever. {grumble, grumble, grumble} Why are there mosquitoes!"

I don't really know why I chose the words I did, but I was tired of his arguing. I simply said, "Because our world is not perfect."

Days later my littlest boy landed in my lap and asked "Why is our world not perfect?"

Wow.

"Because Adam and Eve disobeyed God when they lived in the perfect garden." Obey and disobey are words that are heard frequently around here. This kid has a very intimate knowledge of what they mean.

He gave me a defiant look, transformed into the I-am-pushing-my-limits version of himself and growled at me, "And I will disobey God too."

I'm sure he expected me to tell him no. "Yes, you will, everyone does."

His eyes got big, and his face softened.

I continued, "But you'll say you're sorry."

He was listening.

"And then what will God do?", I asked.

A big smile came over his face, and he looked right into my eyes as he whispered so softly that I almost couldn't hear it, "forgive".

A self-discovery journey

Something I have been wanting to do for awhile now is a self-portrait.

I am the one always behind the camera. Photos of me with my kiddos are few and far between, but I have only myself to blame for that. I only need to throw the camera at someone and ask. And really, I must do that more.

The other day I realized I can use the timer on my camera, and still shoot in full manual mode. Oh, joy! The possibilities began to swarm around in my head, crashing into one another, joining together and breaking apart again. What to do? What to do!

So I did.

And in doing so, I had a profound realization, and it shook me hard. Hiding behind the camera as photographer is one thing, but looking into the lens as the shutter opens and closes is something else entirely. It left me vulnerable and exposed. It was me, not having showered for two days, with all my emotions and confusion and passion. It was me, the real me that is still there underneath the weight of laundry and dirty dishes that will never be done, underneath the fog of nights with children who do not sleep, the me that was left after pulling the baby off my hip and removing the preschoolers that attach themselves to my legs like Velcro.

I hate pictures of myself.

But there I was, and I actually loved it!

Then, I happened across the post Hello You at Shutter Sisters, and I wanted to jump up and down and scream "YES!".

Suddenly it all came crashing down on me like a flood.

There is no limit to the ways a creative self-portrait could show who I really am, no end to the fantasy an artful self-portrait could evoke or show the dreams that I hope for. The angle, the light, the focus, other subjects or items included in the shot... Me as mom. Me as writer/friend/photographer/lover/gardener. Me as simply Jess, a child of God, forgiven just as I am.

I want to take a self-portrait every day!

Well, not every day. I just don't have time for that, no matter how amazing the journey of self-discovery may be. I am a mom, you know.

I want to invite you to join me on this journey. I have no doubt it will change the way I see myself. I want to start a weekly self-portrait adventure.

The rules will be simple (in as much as there are always rules, my three-year old is becoming painfully aware of that fact).
1. You must be in the photograph in some way.
2. You must be the one to snap the shot.
3. Include a link back here to The Old Nichols Farm. (I'll try to get a grab button assembled.)

I will get the first {Not Absolutely Sure of the Name Yet} linky up on Saturday.

Find a camera. Any camera. Hold it out at arm's length, or point it at a mirror, or if it has a timer figure out how it works and find a tripod or throw it on top of a pile of laundry or a tree stump. Just do it!

My friends who think you cannot take a decent photo to save your life, guess what, you can. Just show me you. A real you, a fantasy you, a laughing you, a frustrated you, a dreaming you. You can do it. If you don't have a blog, get yourself a free flickr account and link your picture up through there.

I AM EXCITED about this, and I sincerely hope some of you will come out to play!

An investment

Long, long ago, in a kingdom far, far away, someone packed up a small box. And on a day that would not otherwise have been nearly as exciting, it arrived on my doorstep.

Okay, so it was only two months ago, and really not so far away.

It smelled, ummm... funny. Sort of earthy and damp and not moldy, but kind of alive in the same way dishes that have been left by the kitchen sink for half a week smell, well, different. Does that make any sense at all?

They smelled weird.

By the way, I would never leave my dishes unwashed and my kitchen in a state of disarray because I have better things to do like gardening or blogging. Nope. Not me!

I stuck my face in the box. Yes, I did! Mmmmmm... it was wonderful!



Asparagus crowns!

Yes they're roots, but they're called crowns. Don't ask me why.

But I was also worried, because my garden was still very much a swamp, and we needed to get a nice raised garden bed built in a hurry. These lovely things needed to get into the ground, and they would not be happy to wait for long.

We needed to do this right, because asparagus takes a few years to become well established. But the time and attention it requires will pay off handsomely for at least a decade to follow.

My husband bought some cedar planks, I did not nearly have a heart attack when I found out how much they cost, and we did not argue about how the bed should be built because my way is always better. Then somehow he got the dumb thing built to my satisfaction, in the rain, with a three-year-old helping (which as you know is always a time saver if nothing else).

You see, people, this is why I married a super-hero!

And they grew!



Want to learn something new? Don't you just love when I ask that!

Way back in the day, The Church banned asparagus from nunneries because, well, look at that picture again and use your imagination. You can read about that and be entertained to no end by local-food fanatic Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which I highly, highly recommend.

And, my photography friends, did you notice the problem with that photo? Look closely at the bokeh (blurry background). Something annoying is going on that should never, ever be happening with Canon L series glass.

Here, I'll zoom in a bit for you. GAH! It bothered me like a mosquito bite for weeks until I figured it out!



There are parallel diagonal lines in the background bokeh. You see it? Completely unacceptable!

It was, in fact, not caused by my fancy lens. The Promaster UV filter my lens wears causes this to happen, but only when the lens is zoomed to full length.

Knowledge is half the battle. You're welcome.

(And I'll have you know... I did not finally just sit down on my butt one evening, in complete and utter frustration, and search google for the answer to all of my life's problems this crappy bokeh.)


Linking up with Macro Monday at Lisa's Chaos, and Not Me! Monday at MckMama.

A soggy bean

Once upon a time...

A little bean went to The Lake.



She couldn't believe it, there were rocks!



Such a trendy little bean, thought she'd try a new fashion.

Rock wearing.

Bottom rocks. Foot-bottom rocks, pant-leg-bottom rocks and the-bottom-you-sit-upon-bottom rocks.

Her Mama was proud.



But rock-wearing is so yesterday.

She ate them instead.



She sat.

And thought.



She was a happy soggy little bean. A fully-clothed soggy bean, and underneath it all, a cloth diaper as wet as any in the history of the world has possibly ever been before.

The little bean was as happy as she was wet.



What do you think, little sweetheart? Should we come to The Lake again, even if we find undigested gravel in your diaper in a few days?



Yes, little Bean. Oh yes, we will come to The Lake again.

Dog days of summer

Our You Capture assignment for this week was "water".

We discovered a little lake not too far from here, and even skipped church on Sunday so that we could go. Honestly, just getting through the service with our three monkeys is such a battle lately. I needed wanted a break from it. The lake was awesome. I knew my photos would be perfect for You Capture.

I warned a Grandma to watch the blog today for photos of a little bean sitting in a lake. I got so many great shots, if I do say so myself.

Then I changed my mind. I'm going to use my photos from yesterday for You Capture.

But you don't hold cuteness hostage from a Grandma. Oh, no no no no...

So here she is, my little bean (fourteen months old).



Sitting in a lake.

With all her clothes, and her cloth diaper. Completely soaked and as happy as a little soggy bean could possibly be.

Now with Grandma temporarily satisfied (I'll post more later), here is the fun that was our yesterday afternoon.

A dog day of summer!



Hot sunshine, a sprinkler, and a dog.

Yes, our dog that killed the fawn. I've forgiven her. Her name, Mercy, is appropriate in so many ways.



When you're dripping wet from head to toe, what could be better than finding a cool rock?



Darn kids! I wanted to shoot everything back-lit since the mid-day sunshine was so harsh. They had a blast moving the sprinkler around and I just couldn't keep up (since keeping my gear dry was my main priority).



Oh well, even front-lit I still love these!



You Capture - "water"

Entering the second photo (dog and boy in the sprinkler) at In a Yellow House - "Water" photo challenge.

A fawn waiting

I hesitated (for nearly two weeks) to post this photo.

The story played out so badly, and I was angry and felt guilty, even though it wasn't my fault. Of course, what I should have done is so clear in hindsight, although there is no guarantee it would have changed the outcome.

In the end I wondered how many of you might ever see this in nature, so raw and true and real... and I wanted to share.



If it weren't for my husband's quick thinking, and knowing something about deer, we would never have seen the tiny spotted fawn as it hid there, curled up in the grass waiting patiently for it's mother to return.

It hid well.

It was silent and still as I sat down nearby.

I wanted to wipe the mosquitoes off it's nose, but I dared not touch.

I hoped to get a photo at a really low angle, so I did reach out and flatten some of the grass in the way. It still isn't what I envisioned, but I couldn't have gotten the shot I wanted without completely invading it's space.

I was only a few feet away from the fawn, but it didn't matter that I was there with my camera. The truth is that the predator already knew where it was, even before I arrived.

Still I regret not wiping the mosquitoes off it's beautiful nose.


Linking up with In A Yellow House - "Nature" photo challenge.

Cat food

Are these naked blind ugly things baby Grackles? Someone please tell me they are.

There are three or four of them in this pitiful tangled mess of bare-naked baby bird body parts.



They must be.

I swear (usually not on the blog) that this was a Sparrow nest, and these awful-looking things are way too big to have come from those tiny eggs. There was a pair of adult Grackles saying evil things to me the entire time I was up there with my camera, as if I had invaded their space.

Won't Grackles dump other eggs or even baby birds out of a nest and steal it for their own?

That is just plain rude.

If that is indeed the case, I'm thinking Marshall may accidentally get aimed in this general direction. Nature's revenge. Blenderized by a barn cat, or something like that.

So, are they cat food or not?

New babies

Lilac's chicks were due to hatch on Sunday.

Saturday we went to The Big City for the day, but before we left I let the chickens out as usual. While I was in the coop I peeked at Lilac sitting there in her corner, as she had been for the past twenty days. I thought, "Girl, your life is about to change and you don't have a clue what is about to hit you".

Her beady eyes met mine and she put her all her feathers up on end. Uh oh. She did already know.

They were early!

All you moms out there know that babies never hatch on their due dates. Then why would I expect chicks to?

And I wasn't the only one doing some peeking.



Their dad, by the way, is learning.

He saw me coming with my bamboo pole today and ran straight into the tall grass and sat down. It was just that easy.

I took these photos on Sunday, when the babies were only a day old.

One day old, and they were already starting to explore.



Mama Lilac was showing them how to peck at spots on the wall, so they tried it too.

She didn't mind my handling, so I actually picked her up off the nest to assess the situation and remove the empty shells. All eight were fully developed. It looked like Mama Lilac had shifted her weight at a bad moment and crushed one as it was hatching. So we have seven babies as new as they come, three yellow and four a beautiful soft brown.



The yellow chicks are Buff Orpington just like their adoptive mom. By the time a hen is determined enough that I realize she is broody, she has already stopped laying eggs. Lilac laid exactly zero of the eggs she kept warm for all those days.



The pretty brown babies are mixed breed, Buff Orpington and Barred Rock.

So soft and warm in my hand.

But things will be different this fall. The chicks that are unfortunate enough to be boys will be so obnoxious they'll practically beg me to get my new axe out. And the truth is, I don't want to keep mixed breed chickens in my laying flock of heritage breed birds.

Do you eat chicken (or beef)? Then don't look away. Even if you prefer someone else wield that axe, I believe it's important to understand where your food comes from, and to actually think about it once in awhile.

I have said it before, these lives are not a gift to take lightly.

This is where it starts.

Simple fun

Around here, it's usually the very simple things that are the most fun. Stuff like playing underneath and inside huge overgrown lilacs, laughing at our beast of a dog as she jumps at the sprinkler... or digging in loose gravel like a badger.



When it's worth losing some time to take those socks and boots off, you know it's going to be good!



I believe I've mentioned that we don't have a TV? Easily amused, yes, that's us!



But it sure is a whole lot of fun!




You Capture - "Fun"

The evidence

"No."

"A bath? No."

"Uh. NOPE."

"No, I dooooon't need to."



The number of baths and/or clothing changes a boy has on a summer day is directly proportional to the amount of fun contained within that same day.

I need to go wash some towels...


The challenge at I Heart Faces is "Play".

After I got my photo ready I read about this week's judges. Just my luck, they are obsessed with color. So here's me with my black & white entry. Oh, well. I'm gonna play anyway.



Here I am a month later, editing to link up with In A Yellow House photo challenge - "Your Best Shot".

I feel I've really come a looooong way in this photography journey of mine. It was only last November it crossed my mind to take the camera off the "little green box". Portraits are my weakness. But I nailed this one. I love it. LOVE it. For some reason this shot has been on my mind all week, and then Ms Yellow House asked for it... our best shot.

Why the chicken crossed the road

Or more specifically, the reason why my terribly handsome Red rooster crossed the road.



He was in an awfully big hurry too.

I was chasing him with a five-foot-long bamboo pole.

Now don't think I'm cruel! The alternative is to chop his head off, and I really don't want to do that. As much as that bird is a huge pain in the rear, I really do like him.

Red has a job and he does it well.

I just don't trust him. Apparently, he feels his royal reign is threatened by small children. The kind of small children that mind their own business... playing in the sandbox, coloring the sidewalk with chalk or dragging a hose around the yard. My small children.

That type of shenanigans in completely unacceptable.

So there I am racing around the yard behind my Red rooster. In my sandals. In the slippery dewy wet grass.



My boys are laughing hysterically.

But I have the advantage! I have the bamboo pole! Not to smack him up, just to steer him. It sure works better than a flyswatter.

And yes I know, it's a crying shame my husband wasn't here to man the camera.

When it's hot out, a running Red rooster loses steam faster than you would ever believe. One loop around the yard and his beak is wide open and he's gasping for breath.

Chickens have wings, you know, but I'm starting to think they are mostly for decoration. He won't fly away from me.

The second time around the house he tries to hide in corners or under the steps, but he knows I'll have him if he stops for too long. But soon, he's had it. He's done. He sticks his head into the flower bed, between a gigantic daylily and an overgrown chive plant, shuts his eyes and waits.

I haul His Highness off to the barn and lock him in the doghouse. Don't worry, he doesn't mind. He's pooped out. He needs a nap. He can sleep while my kids play outside, and I won't have to worry about them being attacked.

One of these times I swear that Red rooster is going to see me and my pole and head straight for the doghouse on his own.



It would be so much easier. For both of us.

My garden fountain

My husband got the water turned on in my garden swamp. Not that I really need any amount of water beyond what I can carry, yet.

But I will.

Our plumbing obsessed five-year-old is going to go completely nuts when he realizes that he didn't get to help.

Maybe he should have.

The first time I tried to use it, the valve popped off and it was like a fire hydrant had been set free. Well, not quite that bad. I mean, I didn't get knocked over or anything, but our nearest neighbors (a mile down the road) might have heard me scream.

It was refreshing. Very much so.


If you think the grass grows good in there, you should see the weeds. And the garden-on-steroids itself, when it's properly tended and doesn't, in fact, drown when we have five inches of rain in an unreasonable amount of time, or anything like that.

I think our neighbor was joking when he said if we had been gone one more day last week (they cared for our animals) we would have come home to a corral full of calves. I'm also starting to think he doesn't like taking care of bottle/pail calves very much. AND I think my husband is thinking about fixing some fence and getting some pens ready so we can actually have a couple bottle calves next year.

Lots of thinking going on around here.

What do you think?


Linking up with In a Yellow House - "Red" photo challenge

An illusion of peace

You Capture assignment was just to shoot like crazy all week long, and then to post only one photo. Just one.

I had a rough week. Lately it seems like all my boys do is fight. All day long. And it seems like all I do is yell at them.

The little bean is perpetually in "search and destroy" mode. It's one thing after another.

She snuck off with every shoe she could find and threw them behind the dryer. With the shoe project complete, her dresser called to her, she answered, and emptied the whole darn thing. Then she took her brother's banana (it might as well have been the end of the world). The other brother left the bathroom door wide open and, well, use your imagination. Next, she grabbed the CF card (from my camera) which was attached to the laptop which I thought was safely out of her reach. When I took it from her, she unplugged the laptop instead.

That was all within a period of about ten minutes.

When I picked her up to say "Why, girl?", she latched onto my arm with her five big teeth and would not let go.

Another bruise.

Beyond that, yesterday she unplugged the fridge at least five times, and I had to extract her from the dishwasher at least twice. I think we have finally secured the refrigerator plug.

It just doesn't stop.

Our house is a disaster zone. There are dishes all over the kitchen, piles of clean laundry all over the living room, dirty towels on the bathroom floor.

I am completely exhausted.

But we're all healthy (although the bean is cutting some gigantic molars) so who am I to complain.

{sigh}

Oh yes, my one photo.

Even though the light is horribly harsh, and technically this isn't a great photo, it is my favorite of the whole entire week.

It's my favorite because of the sweet calm of the moment. It is a perfect capture of childhood here on the farm in summer. Boys joyfully exploring together, and flattening a path through alfalfa that is already so tall. It was a warm, windy day. They had just crashed their kite and were moving on to the next big thing.


There is another photo that I also really, really like... with the abandoned tractor in focus in the foreground, and a blurry exploring boy disappearing into the alfalfa in the background. But at the moment I like this one of the two of them better.

You Capture - "Your best shot"