Unplugged #5: FRUIT!!!

FRUIT! What a great subject for this week's Unplug Your Kids theme.

As usual, we spent lots of time blackberry picking. Here's one walk's haul. I'm running out of room in my freezer, but the season's starting to trail off, as well.

Last week, I made a bowl of these berries into jam, which I had intended for my Hard project, but it would have worked just as well for this week's fruit theme!

Looking over our fruit, I realized our bananas were spoiling faster than I could eat them, so we made banana bread using this recipe. I wanted to use up as many bananas as possible since I had four on their way out, but man, four wasn't enough! So I added a few extra plums. The result was just fine, though there was something lacking from the bread that I couldn't put my finger on... spices, maybe?

That would be smashed bananas in the background, not scrambled eggs...

This fruit assessment of course made me realize that I forgot to eat my bag of plums from Rocky's tree (out of sight, out of mind... it's hard enough just keeping up with 100 yards of blackberries) so we decided to make Plumplesauce! The apples we picked during Tree week were too wrinkly to eat, but were happy to be rescued into a sauce. (Here's where I'm going to hope you can't count backwards, and if you can, I'll hope you'd think those were the oldest of the apples we used, which... they weren't, I found a few hiding in the fridge from after Bella was ... erm, born. *crickets chirping* Cider, anyone?)


Actually, the Plumplesauce was amazing and delightfully PINK! and well worth the effort of smushing the goop through a sieve for consistency. This would be a fun fall outdoor project for kids, since the smushing is so satisfying. No pictures though, since Dave was at work and I'm a messy multitasker. It was so delicious that I froze some so that Bella can taste it when she's older :O)

And of course, how could we end the week without begging the question, "Fruit or Vegetable?" These are the last of our golden tomatoes and the only fruit from our porch garden this year. Perhaps we'll graduate to more plants next year. Regardless, they made yummy little bruschetta toppings.

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Holiday

This post has me inspired today. And it might put my thoughts into context for you.

~~~~~

I generally avoid pregnant women when I encounter them at work, knowing how tired most women become of the constant attention, the monotonous questioning. And yet I'm simultaneously attracted to them and envy them, and I miss being pregnant. The indirect generosity I received, a door held open here, a knowing smile there. And myself in a constant state of simultaneous unease and contentment, knowing the mystery held inside me. The secret of a child yet unknown to the world.

The first-time moms stick out like sore thumbs shopping through the store. When I first returned to work, I would smile and tell them, I was just there. You have know idea how fast it will slide by. And yesterday I realized that phrase no longer fits me. I was there almost a half a year ago. The details are getting fuzzy but it still seems like yesterday.

Those pregnant months seemed so long, and yet it is so hard to remember them now. Driving down the road in the cold rain savoring the linger taste of toothpaste that I used while I was pregnant and for a moment I am catapulted back in time. It's just me and Dave in the front seat, and if I don't look in the mirror at this stranger in the car seat behind me, it is suddenly a year ago, and in that moment I can revisit the love and mystery and excitement entwined.

I watched Bella in her bjorn today, and her little elephant legs seemed to reach half way to the floor. When did she get this big? She's taken to grabbing the air for me and wrapping her koala arms around me when I pick her up. I think she has lead weights in her socks today and I ask her how she got so gigantic so fast.

I close my eyes and it's the future and she's 7, 10, 15, and her arms are around me and I'm struggling to remember when those arms barely fit past my shoulders like they did in this moment. Today I'm lucky enough to reopen my eyes and still have my great big little girl.

~~~~~

Days where neither of us is working and neither of us has any obligations are few and far between. Shut the door on the stress of work (Dave weathering yet another change in management), close my mind to the creeping specter of finances (it's so much harder to get back on top with a child now), and the day becomes a veritable vacation. Mountains, sunshine and the tropical getaway of Starbucks conveniently located next to a yarn shop.

We sat there in the squishy chairs, deciding on a game to play, each sipping away on an icy delight, enjoying our squirmy daughter and her antics roping in any passerby who only so much as glanced in our direction. People working diligently at their laptops, moms rushing to pick kids up from school, toe tappers checking their watches in line. And then there we were, singing along to Simon and Garfunkel, laughing at anything, enjoying little nothings. I felt like the envy of everyone in the store. I envied me.

We pulled out the checkerboard and Dave shook his head, I don't think I've played checkers in twenty years. And then he laughed at the mere thought of being able to say something like that. You're thirty, I teased. Thirty, thirty, thirty! Then we waxed on about the few years we can count together. Some day we will have been together longer than we have been apart. The woman with the lap top bored a hole in her screen listening to us and I wondered to myself how old her children are and what dreams she had when their lives were so new. Age is all so relative.

~~~~~

As part of a project to record the mundane, which will not be our every day next year: photos of an easy peasy no-work-don't-brush-hair-get-over-sore-throats morning



And our afternoon at The Bux:

Ticklefest

I was totally winning until I got out the camera...

Daddy Delicious

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Onward!

Well, Bella has rescinded her Grudge Against Rolling. She was on a rolling strike for her entire fourth month, and now just a few days into month five, she's up and rolling again.

This is as much of it as I got before the camera battery died.

Then later I asked if she could try again for the camera
and I got the "you want me to do what?" look.

Which was promptly followed by
NoIDon'tWannaAndI'mHungry!!

And then Fine, but this is as far as I'm going.
Who wouldn't prefer to be Superman?

Oh, and she did her first giggle later today. Not just her HAAAAEEEEEE squeek, but a genuine HaHeeHeeHaa to match her smile. It couldn't have been more timely as Dave and I were walking along and I had just told him that I couldn't wait to hear her laugh laugh.


As for my accomplishments this week, I made blackberry jam!




Okay, obviously the photo is not of me, but I had to go to my jam connoisseur since the last time I made jam (or rather made "not-jam, let's call it strawberry sauce") I was left with yet another fear of Failure to Gel. This time was a success and I plan to enjoy it long after the last berry drops to the ground!

Oh and this is how Bella makes jam:

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Ripping up the caution tape

The following is an exercise in boldness and following my passion. Tearing away the caution tape bit by bit so there is nothing left to keep me out.

Generally, I am not bothered by what others think. At home, at work, I do what feels natural and rarely interpret myself through others. I speak my mind. I happily knit in public. I nurse my fidgety baby anywhere. However, these fall within my comfort zones. My fear of imagined consequences once I have left ComfyLand overrides any of my reckless abandon, inhibiting my own freedom. Among the mental roadblocks on my list to tackle are:

Traveling off the beaten path.
Asking for directions (and accepting them).
Taking pictures of people.
Standing my ground.

I nervously pick berries, wondering what the neighbors will think. I tiptoe across property, skirt abandoned "no trespassing" signs with a ten foot berth. My fear of being confronted keeps me from following my every whim. I have trouble pulling out my camera in odd places, afraid to turn around to find the hot burn of another person's glare, afraid to be told I am in the wrong and feel the hot burn of my own embarrassed cheeks. Breaking this internal taboo is the biggest step I can take in order to release the creativity I feel bubbling up inside me.

So, I brought my camera to a little get together yesterday (not uncommon) and actually pulled it out of my bag (fairly uncommon). My first step towards tearing away the no trespassing sign I've made myself, and I've already encountered a new resistance which makes me want to run for the hills. Perhaps it's the classic catch 22, but I timidly stay away from practicing on people because I feel I have nothing to offer them, yet this is because I have not had enough experience. I can sense an artistic shot, can see it there in front of me, but its translation onto the camera is less than satisfying.

I feel there are several levels of photographers. The best can see a moment and capture more than what is there, imparting balance and allegory in every shadow. The good ones can capture the beauty and emotion in the moment forever. And then there's my current goal: simply to relate what I see in front of me, to remember the moment as I saw it. To capture a person and prove that yes, they are photogenic and no, they won't have to panic at finding their face frozen forever in the middle of a word or an awkward position.

I see those moments of perfect atmosphere, I see a person lit up from within by their thoughts, and I want so badly to whip out my camera and say, Just keep going, this is going to be beautiful. But I can't promise any of that, and it makes me want to tack the caution tape back up and return firmly to my comfortable side. Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I'll just be going now... The camera sits on the table and teases me, refusing to give me what I want until I cross to the far side and explore every corner. It's my own inhibitions that keep me from what I desire.

Keeping my camera out, albeit clicking ever-so-timidly, was my first huge step over the tape. It's not gone by any means, but now I know I can survive on the other side. I think I got one photo I liked, maybe. The moments came and went and I missed the mark so many times, but I had the guts to get the camera out and shoot away the day, and that's a start.

~~~~

The get together was at Megan and Ryan's house. They have the oldest baby, the girl with The Hair, who turns 6 months today. The baby in stripes turns 6 months next week, and my Bella in light pink turned 5 months a few days ago.

The house had gorgeous light, as all the windows faced south. But still it was dim and kids are wiggly, so I used a very high iso the whole afternoon since I was too self conscious to dampen my flash with one of Bella's socks, as I normally would.

No flash, no processing

(I'm scheduled for a copy of Photoshop, but it may take a while to learn!)

Lower iso in an attempt to lighten things up.
Not a great shot, but I love Bella's face.

With flash, but softened a little to hide the glare.

Another shot that I wish were less "flashed"
because I love the interest in the button.

Standing away from the window
and against the horrid WHITE! walls.
The harsh lighting kind of bleaches out the softness of the moment.

I practiced on Jen next. They were facing the window,
but far enough away that I still needed that high iso.

I love the way Jen is looking at her daughter,
barely in the frame. I wish it weren't so grainy
but they were way in from the window.

I think we might have had more fun
than them just watching them interact.

Not artsy (ew to the carpet color),
but I love the energy and playfulness.
Of course Bella would be looking at me.

This would have been my favorite shot if Bella
hadn't thrown her hand through it at the last moment.
Thanks to the low iso and low light,
it's just a blur, but a blur it is.

And not that I would have asked him to move
(not there yet!) but I never notice
things like The Foot in the background until I get it home.

Nice and close to the window,
watching her dad grilling outside.
She let me play with many different settings.

Ryan goofing with all the girls.
Another plain snapshot, but I do like the story.

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Five months (and one day) later

Dear Sweet Bella,

Here we are at the end of summer, and what a summer it has been. This is the first of many many letters that I hope to write you in your lifetime. I couldn't find the right words for the last few months, but now I realize that it doesn't truly matter what I write, but that I write for you. You won't remember this amazing babyhood that passes so quickly and I'm bound to forget the details, so these letters will remember it for both of us.


It's hard to imagine that you are now five months old! I can say that the adjustment period of welcoming you home is over. It seems like you have always been around and I find myself wondering what I did with my time before you joined us. I thought I would always be looking forward to the next stage with you, when you will finally be talking, walking, or playing. Instead, I'm enjoying you just as you are each day and it's a blessing to live this way.


This month we grew side by side and got to know each other even better. Daddy found your sense of humor in the evenings, the two of you growling back and forth at each other, eating each other's necks. You already have him wrapped around your finger. It's hard not to fall for you when you take such obvious joy in seeing him after a long day with me or when he spins you through the air like a plane.


Last month you hit so many milestones it was crazy. We were trying to keep up with you rolling over and standing up and sitting up and laughing. This month you decided to perfect standing and wanted nothing to do with anything else. You decided that rolling over is useless, since in the end you are still lying down.


And until you learn to stop kicking out your legs when you get excited, sitting up on your own will remain a distant dream. So stand you do. Sometimes I think you might just skip crawling and go right on to loitering.


Of course, it hasn't been a perfect month. We took you for shots on your four month birthday, something I always hate doing. They made you quite ill, cranky, feverish, and rashy for days. I hugged you for a week straight. Just as I was getting over the guilt and we were finding our stride again, the whole family caught a cold. I wanted to curl up and hide til it was over like I'm used to doing. But we made it through, you and me. Somehow I managed to suck it up for you, my first taste of the superhuman abilities that come with mommydom. You are just now getting back to your fun loving self, and I am procrastinating your next shots. I don't want my happy baby to disappear again. I just got you back.


You and I have been taking walks to pick blackberries every other day. You're still enamored with the green all around. It's also fun reading to you now that you actually take interest in the books. In fact, you try to steal them from me and thwart me from turning the page. Your hands have been your favorite entertainment since you figured out that each finger moves individually, and you can use them to transport things to your mouth.


As I write this, you are snoozing on me, finally passed out after your already-late bed time. You continue to resist any form of sleep, crying right up til you fall asleep. The world is too exciting for you to waste time sleeping and nursing.


When I get home from work you'd fly right out of Daddy's arms if you could. You sure try. When you're hungry, you lunge yourself at me. You scrunch up and growl and use your whole body to project yourself the few inches between you and happy sustenance. And I smile every time as your eyes flutter while you chug chug chug because you just can't get it fast enough. Two hours without booba is just way too long and there's no time to waste breathing. Then when you've satisfied the craving, you pop off, drunken milky grin dripping from ear to ear. After you've filled your eyes as well as your belly and you're about to burst with the joy of it, your dive back down with a smirk and burrow in. Hiding your face in my shirt is a well-practiced move and you use it any time you start overflowing with smiles. Coy little thing, you are. Happy five months, sweet pea.

Love,
mama

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Wordless Wednesday: Daddy's Girl

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