I'm Thankful....

...that I have indoor running water that's just as warm as I want it because it would not be fun to heat water on the stove and fill washtubs every night. Of course I know I wouldn't be doing it every night, hence the once-a-week bathtimes you read about in the Laura Ingalls Wilder books.

Hopefully LIW never rubbed hummus into her hair, because let me tell you, it takes some special scrubbing to get that stuff out. But I don't plan on Daph getting her braids dipped in inkwells anytime soon. That might be worse than hummus.


















I know the pioneer people had dirt! Seriously, I can't imagine letting my kid go to bed without a good scrubdown after participating in this fun digging activity:






































Poor Daphne is looking a wee bit bedraggled in this final photo, but at least she has a house made out of cheese.













In conclusion, three cheers for the modern day bathtub.

Nothing Says Summer Like Putt Putt Golf

Our lives have been pretty boring lately; mostly just trying to soak up all of the summer we can before fall comes to town. I hope we get a few more bursts of heat before we switch seasons. I like being warm.

It was warm enough last week that we actually washed our cars. Pretty amazing for us. David came in the house a few days ago asking what the strange streaks of sliminess were on the back of my car. Well, I needed to soften some butter and the sun was shining and black cars reflect heat...so I put the sticks of butter on the trunk of my car. I probably left them there a bit longer than I needed to because my butter ended up a bit soupy, and then there was the problem of butter streaks down the back end of the car which David thought for sure meant our paint was just randomly melting off the car. But now we're all washed up and good to go.














We went mini golfing with friends, where Daphne quickly figured out the best way to get a hole in one:

















Golfing with small children is a wee bit more challenging than golfing without small children. Lots of breaks for snack and snuggles.
































Aren't you curious about what they are all staring at so intently? Me too.















Last Sunday David and I went to the Hillsboro Air Show. It was pretty entertaining, but my main question is how those pilots aren't puking in their cockpits. I had to avert my eyes during some of the stunts because they looked way too scary for me, and watching an airplane crash to the ground is not on my list of things to do. And for the record, people should not be allowed to ride on the outside of an airplane. There should be a rule.

We did not take Daphne, but we brought her home an inflatable airplane. It makes her very happy.

In case you need proof of how happy this airplane makes her, I am sharing some video of how excited she gets when David flies it around the living room. I love her look of anticipation in the second one.

Injuries

Last night Daphne took a tumble face forward from her rocking chair and split her chin right open. I'm not one to freak out at the sight of blood, but I am not good with skin openings. I firmly believe that skin should be in one piece and you should not be able to see what is behind it.

There was a lot of blood on her face and running down her neck but I didn't want to actually look at the wound. I'm nervous about seeing brains or whatever it is you can see when someone's chin is open.

How do you determine if someone needs stitches? I don't know, so of course I called David. He didn't know either and I'm like, "just pretend like I'm calling 911 and you're responding to this call!" Apparently people don't call 911 for split chins, but he said he could send me an ambulance if I wanted. Um, no. No need to black list my house as the one who calls for medical at the sight of a bit of blood.

Long story short (even thought this story is already really long) the bleeding stopped after an hour or so and this morning all seems to be well. I guess she didn't need stitches. She must have hurt the inside of her mouth too because when she tried to eat or drink last night and this morning she would say "ouchie!" Poor little thing.

Last week Daph took a tumble down our entire flight of stairs. I was at the top and just couldn't catch her in time. I had to watch her little body flip and twist down the stairs until she landed at the bottom. She didn't even cry, even though my heart was racing a mile a minute. We were on our way out to the door to church when it happened. I thought she would be nervous around stairs after that, but as soon as we got to church she headed straight for the first staircase we saw.

Last night after the chair incident she just whimpered a bit, but after we snuggled for awhile she wanted to get in the chair again. Brynner ran over her on the patio yesterday morning, and even though she got a face and mouth full of dirt and gravel, she hardly even acted like anything happened.

I think Daphne is just going to be one of those kids who always has scraped knees and bumps and bruises, but I'm glad that she bounces back so quickly and doesn't seem to get too shaken up by her injuries.

As long as David is always nearby to check if brains are visible, I will try not to get too shaken up as well.

















Sitting in her rocker where she likes to hold all the sporting equipment possible.


















It's good to add a few stuffed animals as well.

Happy Is Her Middle Name

Daphne made this face a lot today:













Yep:













There it is again:


















Cheerful, isn't she?

Tomorrow will be better.

Because she loves me.

Most of the time.

I think.

8.14.04

What were YOU doing 6 years ago today?


















I know what I was doing.

It involved a pretty white dress, the most beautiful flowers you'll ever see, and one handsome dude.













Gettin' hitched, that's what I was doing. (Because I realize all those hints were very vague and could have related to any number of activities.)

There were two things I said I would never do when it came to getting married: never get married in the summer and never get married on a Saturday. I did both, because life just works out that way sometimes. I also said I would never have a baby in December, but I went ahead and not only had one in December, but on a national holiday to boot. That's how I roll.

I wanted a Friday night wedding, but wasn't sure about going for Friday the 13th. I'm not superstitious or anything, but doesn't it seem just a little freaky?

So happy anniversary to the best guy I could have hoped to marry.

It is a pleasure living a lifetime of happily ever after with you.

Choring

I discovered today that I am raising a genius.

That or she is developmentally right on track when it comes to watching and learning. It's one or the other.

Every morning I take the little miss out with me to take care of the morning chores. We feed the dogs, head out to take care of the chickens, and feed Ellie the Cat. We water the garden and pull a weed or two. Three mornings a week we go milk the goats.

Daph takes special excitement when caring for the chickens. Lately she has said "chicken house" (meaning- please take me to the chicken house because I love my chickens so very, very much) and "chicken water" (meaning- I am officially ready to take on the responsibility of caring for the chickens that I love so very, very much).

So today I was thrilled when she grabbed the chicken water bucket and went back to the rain barrels where I get their water. She asked me to turn the water on, so I let her fill the container with an inch or two of water. I held her hand while she walked, without spilling a drop, to the chicken house where she watered those chickens. All by herself. (Except for turning on the water and the walking. You know, close enough.)

































How long do you think it will be before I can send her out to do all these morning chores on her own? A day or two? Maybe give it a week? I'm already imaging what I'll do with my extra time...

More Parties

Yesterday was another big family shindig, this time for the Stutzman clan. Apparently summer is a good time for these types of things, since this is the 3rd party in 3 weeks. Sheesh.

Daphne and GAB bonded and I love this picture of them talking on the phones.














Then we went back to GAB's for what is apparently becoming a weekly Sunday night pool party. David and Uncle Kyle were doing this...


























...which was making Daphne squeal with glee.
































You probably had to be there, but it was so funny.

Love that girl.

Short and Sweet

This afternoon when I sneezed, Daphne said 'bless you.' She's a polite little bugger.

Tonight she said 'night night' to the bathroom.

Although Daph usually hates wearing hats, lately she's taken a fancy to wearing her 49ers baseball cap.


























You may recall her wearing it when she was 3-ish months old.














She likes it a lot better now.

Daphne has been a grouchy, grouchy girl this week. Lots of screeching, but she's doing really well saying 'haynana' when she's frustrated and needs something. What's a 'haynana' you ask? I taught her to say 'help me, mama' when she needs somethings, as opposed to all the yelping and fussing she usually does. 'Haynana' works fine, too.

Craft Warehouse is having an amazing sale right now. They hardly ever have sales! I had no idea that they had cute fabric, but they do! Buy 2 yards get 1 free.

We have to get up at the crack of dawn to go milk some goats. Daph and I are going alone; here's to hoping she will quietly sit in one spot while the goats and I spend our time together. Super gluing her buns to the floor is definitely a viable option.

More Farming

Look what I learned how to do:













Yes indeed, that is me milking a goat.

There is a little farm not too far from us that has an abundance of goat milk and needed someone who was willing to do their own milking.

Daphne was so happy there. She could not get enough of those goats, and was of course thrilled to be around their dogs.































I know she wants her own goat. I know it. Now if we can just talk David into it...

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Sunday we made the trek down to Albany for the annual Roth Christmas. I tell ya what, our Idaho drive has truly scarred Daphne for life when it comes to riding in cars for longer than 5 seconds. It's not fair that David can completely block out her screeching because I cannot. I feel the need to try everything in my power to make her happy and calm, but nothing works. I feel so bad for her.

Anyways, we made a lovely family tree, which after the hours of work we put into it I was hoping we could just shellac it to the wall so it could stay forever.














Daph loved playing with her little cousins.














And she got some snuggles from her Grandma-Great.














We capped off the day with some swimming at GAB's (Great Aunt Brenda) house where Daphne got to watch her dad and Uncle Kyle be totally weird, and where she got to play with Payton.


































That, my friends, is what you call a pretty much perfect summer day.