rudderless

Ballet

Ballet has quickly become a big part of our lives. I suppose it started with Angelina Ballerina. Sophie has always enjoyed those books, and then inherited a set of puzzles from the stories, which re-peaked her interest. John started showing her clips of the Nutcracker on YouTube. We checked out a few nonfiction books about ballet, and her recent favorites are the Lili series by Rachel Isadora. She will sit and “read” them to herself- making up all sorts of French-sounding words for the positions. It’s beyond cute.

In an attempt to convince her to stay in her own bed, we promised her a “real” ballet dress and shoes if she could fill a sticker chart for a week. She wears it every day. With a ribbon tied in back to keep the straps up. And while she has yet to grow into her long, lean ballet body, her creativity and determination are really fun to see. A few times a day she will don the outfit and request the Flower Fairies CD. Rosy spins along too.

Today she had a partner in crime. Johnathan was the cavalier to her Sugar Plum Fairy. It was pretty great.

Nicknames

Apparently, John and Sophie had a chat last night about our family’s nicknames.
The usual suspects were present:
JoePopaRoPop (my dad)
GoonieaRoonie (my mom)
SophieaDophie (soph)
then it gets interesting
Daddy Salami (John)
Mommy Cheese (Salami goes with cheese?- me, clearly)
and
Rosy Juicebox

Rosy has a problem with juiceboxes. We never buy them, being hippie freaks about making trash, but did get some for Rosy’s first birthday party. She fell madly in love. If she finds an empty straw wrapper she comes marching over waving her hands and yelling, seeking her crack.

That’s Rosy Juicebox for you.

A Penchant for the Homemade

I’m not sure where the domestic in me was residing, but as I age, I seem to find great comfort in the process of making stuff. Making bread. Making baby pants. I’ve even come to enjoy sewing boat cushions. On Sunday Sophie and I turned out five jars of cherry and strawberry preserves. I will never buy jam or “artisan” bread again.

Some of my inspiration comes from SouleMama’s blog and book, The Creative Family.
Some comes from cooking blogs, especially Orangette (scroll down for the potato recipe, which I am making TONIGHT).
Some comes from creating with Sophie, and the artsy sites we follow (some links on the sidebar!). We even started our own, neglected version- Mudpie.

In any event, homemade is good stuff. John insists that his favorite holiday dinner in our marital history was a Thanksgiving meal we created from nothing, tied up to an abandoned dock in Ocean City, Maryland. It was simple, good food, made mostly from scratch. It took far longer to make than it did to consume, but the event, and the process is what we’ll remember.

Update: Fish

So apparently John read that the goldfish’s domicile is “inappropriate” for long-term sustainability. That goldfish have such underdeveloped digestive tracts, they create a toxic sludge for themselves relatively quickly. We need a HUGE tank, or a filter, or both.

This is alarming to us, as Sophie, has recently figured out what it means to die. At thirty years of age, I can barely wrap my head around the heartbreak of death. To be not-even four and asking me questions like, “Did Great-Grandaddy die?” is a lot to swallow. You can filter and protect and edit your stories all you like, but when you have a smart, perceptive kid hanging on your every word, life, and fish-keeping, gets complicated sometimes.

Thirteen Months!

Dear Rosy Roo,

Happy thirteen months! Welcome to the other side of ONE. This is my favorite baby age, still a baby, still cuddly, but like a paper bag full of surprises- everyday there’s something better than the last. At this point we can safely say you’re running. You spent much of the morning running away from me at the library, chasing the baby boys. Where Sophie was content to slide across the library shelves on her belly, you climb on the second shelf, then roll over and out on the other side. If there is a more difficult and dangerous way to accomplish a simple task, you will find it, Rose. Your daddy likes to tell people that if there were three objects on a table and one was knife, you’d go straight for it. Uh-huh.

There have been two new discoveries this week. First, your voice! It’s like you’ve accessed some secret control panel for making sounds. You parrot all of Sophie’s phrases, and do a great attempt at “Thank You, Daddy.” Dada has become Daddy and Mama has become Mommy. There is NO, Hi, and some signing. You’ve closed the book on walking and opened the manual on language. It’s fabulous to hear.

The second discovery- books! I knew it would come. For months you’ve been content to take them in and out of boxes and off of shelves, but just yesterday you sat through half a dozen readings of our favorite Helen Oxenbury tales, and then brought me a few this morning. I remember when this clicked for Sophie. Suddenly she devoured words and pictures like food.

A few days ago we went to a little beach nearby. The last time we were there was exactly a year ago, when I spent much of the time sitting in a beach chair, nursing, and bouncing you all over the place in the sling. I didn’t even wear a swimsuit. I remember feeling so sad that I couldn’t get in and swim with Sophie. This year you walked straight into the water with your sister, plowed in facefirst and came up with a smile. We played for more than an hour before it started to rain, and when we left, I heaved an enormous sigh of relief. That we are on this side of that year. We can go to a beach and play together. We aren’t looking down the barrel of colic and reflux. A year later, we are happy and blessed with a little girl who fits just perfectly into our family. A tiny mermaid with the baby tan lines to prove it.

There is so much more, Rosy, but I hope these little letters paint a picture of who you were, so that in twenty years from now, you’ll read back and see a bit of grown-up self. Curious, fearless Rosy, who is completely unaware of the limitations of her stature and age. May it always be that way. You are our imp. Our willful, joyful, fabulous imp. The dancing continues, with and without music. Whenever happiness strikes in force, you start whirling around and shrieking. It is truly magic.

I love you so much,
mama

Sunflower Painting

We have had great success with our sunflower patch this year. Sophie and I picked a few to play with today. We inked up a leaf or two with the gel inkpad (I suspect you’d have better success with a felt pad, even one “inked” with liquid watercolors). Then we painted the flowers with our watercolors and pressed them- by far our favorite results. We’ve done something similar in the past with tempera. Always a fun result.

Flower Painting

The flowers made me think of this recent post on Zach Aboard, one our favorite boat/kid/blogs. So many good ideas . . .

Meet Flippy!

We’ve had ants, and butterlies, and now a fish. “Her” name is Flippy and she joined our family this afternoon. The girls are thrilled. John and I are already wondering how we’ll remember to feed it three times a day. I barely get three meals in my kids three times a day. I suppose there’s always room for improvement.

Welcome!

Welcome to our new home! For a quick tour, check out the links under the header (which has been the bane of my existence for three days, and is still not what I want it to be). The content will continue to grow. The categories on the sidebar will also expand- you’ll be able to read about cruising, homeschooling, crafting, boat work, all by searchable by category. The goal of this move is to have a new, more navigable start, as we start the next chapter of our life aboard. Hold me to it! My goal is a post every day for at least this first month.

Btw, our archives will be available indefinitely on Rudderless and the Grummy Files. I hope to move some greatest hits over, including a recipe book, asap.