The Scrawl Vol. 1, No. 32


Reading about flower fairies. She’s a chatterbox, and occasionally will actually mimic what a grownup says, but not much. She said “I love ya” right as Daddy walked out the door one day. And I melted. She’s been experimenting with screams lately, which really isn’t a great medium for communication, so I’ve been reminding her that if she needs me, she can just say mmmmmaaaaaaammmmmmaaa, which I then repeat for her until she calms down and eyes this crazy woman with a mixture of interest and amusement. Then she uses her signs to tell me what she wants, and occasionally says mama, too, which I love.


Look, it’s a heart mushroom! It loves being made into salad.

Maria gives her first cooking show. Mustard is the new gourmet, don’tcha know.

Cuddles are essential on cooking shows. All the expert chefs know that. 

Braided her hair while she slept this morning, because I was already up and dressed (!) before I needed to wake her. I was surprised that the braid stayed in for two days, because she’s been tolerating ponytails less than she used to. She just got very frizzy and I was reminded of my frumpy days of wearing a braid until my next shower. I just find other ways to be frumpy these days.

Trying on Daddy’s collar for size.

Have you noticed how many pictures of her show her standing on a chair? She pretty much lives to stand on chairs these days. And she’s not sure how to climb off them once she’s standing. She hasn’t rocked one hard enough to fall yet, and I’m dreading the day when it does happen. 

I love this picture because it captures such a vivid part of her personality. She does crazy very well, and does it often. It’s so much fun to be goofy with her, to make her laugh and laugh when she reciprocates.

 The weather has been flirting with the single digits and occasionally gushing up to the balmy twenties. Not weather to mess around with. Our two remaining single pane windows get pretty iced up, which I’m hoping will slow the mold growth. Heh.

One of the great perks of his job is that he gets to play with fire. This batch of charcoal for the thurible has taken a lot of babying to work properly.

“You takin’ pictures of me, Woman? Why do you trouble me?  Cover your head and mind the baby!”


She begged Daddy to tickle her tummy.

This article is filled with good, hard truth, not just about homeschooling, but about parenting in general. We all want to have perfect children and to do all we can to achieve that, but while our decisions make a difference in their lives, we can’t just decide their lives for them.

Our messy house is driving me bonkers (I saw another blogger describe my problem perfectly when she said “every item out of place has a red flashing sign over it that says ‘work'” – yup, that’s why I’m overwhelmed when it gets a bit out of hand), so I’ve been binge reading organizational articles while putting the baby down for her naps, and then when I get up, I’m so overwhelmed by all I need to do that I decide to just cook instead. I found this post to be a good challenge to me, and I’d like to try it. Everyone recommends starting the day right by making the bed, but I rebel because I’ll be climbing right back into it at 11:00 to put the baby to sleep. Sigh. I can reason my way out of most healthy habits, regardless of how much better they make life when I employ them.


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