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Week 52

We’ve made it to the end. 52 weeks of wrestling and bribing two little girls. 52 weeks of funny faces and silly dances. 52 weeks of memories. 52 weeks of growth.

It has been a joy compiling the video of all of the images. I hope that it will be ready to share next week. It’s amazing to watch Courtland so vividly transform from a relatively motionless blob to a crawling, toddling, busy, pain in the neck.

Sunny is in motion. For 52 weeks. But it’s very amusing to see her start reacting to her sister’s antics as the weeks go on.

As I’ve gone back and read each weeks thoughts, in some ways, very little has changed.

Courtland is still a terrible sleeper.

And I’m still humbled by the love and gratitude I feel to call such a terrible sleeper my own.

Courtland: 52 weeks
Addison: 38 months

RIP Babs

Well it was bound to happen. And it has.

Our flock is down one hen.

RIP, dear Babs.

A young Redtail Hawk took out one of our Buff Orpingtons this afternoon. James went up to the coop to check on the girls, and there, happily dining inside the fence, was this asshole.

The rest of the girls were huddled inside the coop, under the coop, and even in a barn stall, hiding out, hoping to avoid a similar fate.

After scaring off the hawk, James returned to the house and broke the news to Sunny.

The conversation went as follows:

Him: I have some bad news, sweetie. A hawk killed one of our chickens. 

Her (eyes wide as saucers): ALL of our chickens?

Him: No, just one. The hawk was hungry, so she ate Babs for a snack.

Her: Did the hawk eat Dora, too?

Him: No, just Babs.

Her: (a pause to contemplate the news)… But we still have more chickens. The hawk didn’t eat all of our chickens. Just one. Because she was hungry. But we still have chickens! It’s okay. I’ll tell Mommy that we’ll get her a new Babs. It’s alright because we still have chickens. They didn’t ALL get eaten.

She broke the news to me over the phone, and explained everything in just this fashion. When James got back on the phone I asked him if he had explained to her that it was okay because we still had eight chickens left. And he explained that no, she really had come to that conclusion all on her own.

And for this, and so many other reasons, this little girl is my hero.

Later that afternoon, Addison took to comforting the remaining flock, and went with James to lay Babs’ body (what remained of it anyway) to rest out in our meadow.

I never thought I’d be so inspired by a three-year old. I hope that I can do the same for her one day.

Cape Cod 2012 // Part 2

I’ve finally sifted through our babillion images from the Cape. I’ve done my best to narrow them down to a select few many. Editing is not my strong suit. That’s James’ forte, thus his madd video skills. I’ll share his take on the trip tomorrow, and not surprisingly, it far surpasses my own, which is why I saved it for last.

He’s the best.

1. Hammock life is the good life.
2.  Lazy backyard life with Auntie Kimmy and the boogie board.
3.  The scene, and one of my favorite images of the trip, as it just sums it up so succinctly.
4.  Snuggles.
5.  Kisses.
6.  Four braids! Sunny’s signature style.
7.  Preparing for some bridge jumping…
8.  And, blast off!
9.  Nestling into Momar’s bosom. A family pastime.
10.  Soaking up the sun. And the blonde.
11.  Naked baby in the grass. Pretty standard.
12.  James is a walking Ergo advertisement.
13. Absolutely my favorite photograph from the trip.
14. Ah the sweetness and simplicity of this little girl in a white dress.
15. Tug boat reflecting.
16. Courtland is obsessed with Alison.
17. We’re pretty certain that she thinks Alison is one of her dolls. One who moves. Which is what makes her so awesome.
18. More on this concert later, but it was cool. To say the least.
19. Ulmer/Guild/Cart/St. Onge love. Essentially one big blonde, blue eyed, estrogen fest!
20. Dancing naked in the ocean. I couldn’t be prouder.
21. & 22. Very lucky indeed to claim these faces my own.

Part 1 here.

Currently Reading

I didn’t think I could be more repulsed or upset… and yet…

In the vast majority of states, a rapist has the same custody and visitation rights to a child born through his crime as other fathers enjoy.

Read this.

I am asking you and the GOP to get out of my body, out of my vagina, my womb, to get out of all of our bodies. These are not your decisions to make. These are not your words to define.

Why don’t you spend your time ending rape rather than redefining it? Spend your energy going after those perpetrators who so easily destroy women rather than parsing out manipulative language that minimizes their destruction.

And Eve Ensler, as always, makes for a worthwhile read.

Ever since reading about Rep. Akin’s comments on “legitimate” rape and pregnancy, I haven’t been able to speak about the matter without swear-ridden vitriol spewing out of my mouth.

Enter my brilliant friend Meg who responded to Akin’s remarks on Fox 25 Boston this evening with far more poise, restraint, and intelligence than I could have ever mustered under the circumstances.

I urge you to listen to this clip.

I sat watching with Addison by my side and she exclaimed with pride, “Mommy! That’s Meg on the movie!” and I realized that not only am I so fortunate to call this woman and advocate a friend, but I am so fortunate that my daughters will grow up basking in her influence. Not to mention how lucky the world is to have her thoughtfulness and grace in its midst.

Thank you, Meg. And yes, just yes.

We Are Williams

Kimmy, Doda, James and I are about to join the ranks of the I Am Williams project. Spilling some more purple blood out in the world. See also: Eph love.

After a five hour car ride home from the Poconos (a trip that under normal circumstances takes no more than three hours, even with needy dependents) due to a super mutt with the runs and a tripawd with a bloody front leg, her ONLY front leg, mind you, I’m still in recovery mode and shall share pretty pictures and stories at a later date. This is the most extensive post I can muster.

Man, I wish I had Ursa’s sense of preservation and resilience, as she thought nothing of launching her three-legged, injured, cancerous self out of the way back of our station wagon and in between the girls’ car seats as Hanna began erupting, from both ends. That dog has a strong survival instinct, friends. She glared at us all, “Oh heeeell no! No way am I getting barfed AND shat on.”

Now if only James and I could attain such a state of existence.

A Final Plea

Please, if you haven’t, take a moment to go here and vote for our Barn Hex Sign. It will take less than 30 seconds. Promise. And voting only lasts until 7pm tonight!

Many many many thanks from all of us creatures at Cartwheel Farm!

A Whale of a Time

Kaki’s first birthday party was a small but festive affair. You can certainly tell that she’s the second born given the limited guest list. I went all out for Sunny’s first birthday. Remember these? While Courtland’s “party” was also on Cape Cod like big sister’s, this time it was limited to my nuclear family and my dear childhood pal and her 11 month old daughter.  I had no grand plans or crafts, and it is with many thanks to my mother that the party was as Whaley cute as it was. Let that woman loose in a party store, and she’ll get it done.

Here are my favorite snaps from the day. I don’t think any image will ever top the one of Courtland and Alison wailing in distress at the torture of having to don birthday hats. Positively amazing. That’s going in her graduation slideshow. Count on it!

DIY Barn Hex

Right before we went on vacation, James and I tackled a little art project that got bumped to the top of our TO DO list, primarily because it proved more interesting than building kitchen cabinets (which is really what should be at the top of the list). It’s a good thing that I’m not an emergency responder. Triage is clearly not my forté.

If you follow me on Instagram, you bore witness to the whole project unfolding.

A few months back, my father sent an email with a link to some barns bedecked in Pennsylvania Dutch “Hex” Signs, suggesting that one might make a colorful and appropriate addition to our little barn. Yes, I know we live in Vermont, but James has very strong ties to Pennsylvania, and well, heck, the Hex Signs are pretty cool, no?

When Design Sponge announced a contest for DIY projects using Scotch Blue Tape, James and I figured that this project would be a perfect submission. We were thrilled to learn this morning that we were selected as one of twenty finalists! Yay Hex Sign! And this is where we could really use your help. Please head on over and check out all these creative and brilliant projects, but then toss a vote our way! Or you can just go straight to voting here. Lord knows we could use the extra dollars from winning the contest to help support Ursa’s crazy expensive chemo treatments (round 3 coming up next week!).

Here are some snaps of the sign in progress.

It didn’t take more than a sheet of plywood, a straight edge and pencil, some paint, tape and a jigsaw to create our own.

We based the design on a star, a symbol of good luck when used on a hex. The center star has four axes, representing our family of four. And the outer points are to help give the effect of a wheel for Cartwheel Farm. We decided to keep the color palette simple with deep sunflower yellow as the pop of color, and two tones of grey. We have aspirations of repainting the house (which is currently green) in these three colors, so this was a step in that direction!

The best part of the process was the hanging of said sign. Let’s just say that James is one very patient man, with excellent balance.

A little to the left. Okay, now down. No, back up. A smidge to the right. Okay, hold it…

What do you think? Not bad, eh? I’m actually feeling very positive about the results, despite a few frustrations, doubts and tears during the process. In all honesty, I doubt there is a single DIY project I’ve completed that hasn’t involved these three elements. It was gratifying to see it up on Design Sponge today. So please, vote for us! Pretty pretty please!

Photos: Courtesy of Ashley Weeks Cart

Currently Quoting

Dropping some knowledge from the First Lady. Sometimes we could all use this reminder.