For Pond @ 2.5 Years:
Gerda Muller's Seasons Books. So sweet with no text, just children doing what they do when outside.
Thin beeswax in every color. For sculpting, hole punching, decorating. It takes a bit of quiet & patience to melt the wax, then it makes your hands all warm & honey-smelling. With plants dyes & no stick, this is as clean as sculpting gets.
Old-fashioned clothesline & clothespins with drawstring bag. So he can hang things off me & make a fort in his seat.
Silk - for hiding, for sleeping, for warmth, for a bit of home.
Locally harvested, spun & plant-dyed fingerknitting wool. By Colors of Nature.
"Hand" paper punch.
Translucent window star paper in a rainbow of colors.
Large wooden play clip.
Wooden car with a hole, large enough to drag through the airport.
2 kinds of bug-view scopes.
Journal with stickers.
Block crayons.
Drawstring pouch with hematite magnets.
I've had a bit of travel anxiety this past week. There's so much to do, to set up for our house guests here, to prepare for there, to tie up everywhere. Before distinguishing what was going on for me I kept thinking, "How's this gonna work? D's going to want to sleep. We've got 3 boys. He can't sleep! They're just going to want me the entire time. Baby loves to scream. He's a total screamer. He doesn't like to nurse while he's awake. I only know how to nurse to calm on planes!!! This is going to suck!!" You know, the record player that gets louder & louder until we hear it. What's actually so is that my sweet baby is just so in love with these two big brothers of his, so he's distracted all the time. He'll be fine on the plane, & I just need to be ready for the screams, which come when he's happy & come when he's frustrated. Which he very well may be on a cross-country flight. And D is, of course so happy to stay up the whole flight & be a king about all of it. Once I took the time to
create how this flight's going to go & got in dialogue with my partner, I got more related to reality. As women we're well trained in communicating, but somehow we still manage to be running a monologue in our heads.
Especially when it comes to asking for help. A context of partnership makes all the difference, doesn't it? Or more importantly, remembering that the people in our lives are there because they love us, they want us to be happy & cared for & nourished. Just like we want for them.
All that helps at least as much as toy bags.
So we've ransacked our art supplies & rainy day boxes & here's what we've got. They are ecstatic.
And I'm calm with just that little high that comes from laying things out in a lovely way, enough to appreciate the colors, the organization, the textures, & mostly the reminders of each sweet child & how he uses things.
There's acorn trails, bark shanties, moss gardens, lake plumbing, birch tunnels & even telephone poles. Loveliness.
In America we have all kinds of made-up, ridiculous forms of deprivation. I recently facilitated an event where a financially fortunate woman insisted on calling people poor. You know, we've all said it: "Poor People." After much work with the masterful Lillie P. Allen, she determined that people might not have money or resources, but that doesn't mean that they, themselves were "poor." Like of inferior quality. They just didn't have resources.
I kinda can't believe his luck sometimes. He's always generating crazy stuff out of nowhere, like truly lost keys & wallets, random animal sightings, spontaneous gifts from strangers. Ever since he was in utero- really. He even refers to himself as the kid who can manifest anything, as in, "Hey Mom, do you think we can start our own school, where kids just come & play, This Week, 'cause, like, you know how I Can Manifest Anything?" Of course, the following Wednesday our house was loaded with kids of all ages: our 3 boys, the 2 kids I invited, plus 4 from the block. That would be 9 kids piling every pillow in my home onto my former diningroom floor & diving for 3 hours straight. He wasn't surprised one bit. Just really proud & grateful they all had fun at his "school."
They both love catching "bass" (little black minnows. maybe they're bass. maybe) Tying the ropes. Singing "Mount Washingmachine." Making fairy houses. Playing with Mimi. They're both funny & strong willed & smart. They were caught trying to untie their tube from the dock several different ways - so confident were they in their boating skills. They saw eachother all of 24 hours this year & as they said, "It seems kinda like we're still at last year."
It all might seem hard for Tonka, but as always he's just totally fine in the world. Although I can't imagine it's easy being a toddler, in your life jacket, in a tube, tied to a rope & being pulled through the woods by two big kids. But toddlerhood's joy comes from challenge & accomplishment, doesn't it? Not to mention that he's just as lucky, since her little sister is exactly his age.
Their dad said last week, "Good thing there's a house between us." 
It gets this quiet.
Once a year it becomes important to hang laundry in the woods.
To share a step-stool just to be close to the younger brother. 
To sweep the pine needles...
And I'm calm with just that little high that comes from laying things out in a lovely way, enough to appreciate the colors, the organization, the textures, & mostly the reminders of each sweet child & how he uses things. 
And so how extremely pleased am I with Love's fractions & patterns exercise here? He invented it himself & had me join in with gigantic, papertowel-sized chalk. A suspicious purchase to be sure, but he promised me they'd use them. It runs the length of this wall & contains very specific, very detailed, most importantly very cute math visuals. Kawaii, indeed.
3 Things I Adore:
3. This crazy fish tank shot by Pond. Look at the colors! The textures! 
Thanks for indulging me. Have an amazing weekend!
We almost missed the Yolo County Wool Mill, because it looked like a tiny red barn & a couple of sheds.
But we could see bits of red & green wool clinging to the mess of nettles.
Thank goodness we took a chance, because it was such a treat. Like...see???This is Native wool from Churro sheep. It's not really considered a soft wool, but after it gets washed in the above machines (so it doesn't make all their machinery sticky),
Spends some time drying,
Zips through the grand, grand, grand mare of drum rollers (at least 20 feet long, with dozens of different-textured drums), It goes into delicious old red 4 foot high , can filled with spirals of billowy, fluffy warm goodness. Imagine! I told Bear that I wanted a can for our 10 year anniversary please. Imagine!
The colors, the textures!!! This is one of only 5 small lot wool mills in the country, where you can bring in your wool & they'll process it for you in to batting, sliver, roving or yarn.
