The Autumn Post

As autumn descends, I contemplate my last few weeks in this, the Autumn of my twenties.
I've studied and traveled, married and multiplied.
and now, it seems, I enter. . .

My wreath making years.
Call me Donna Reed, I've been domesticated.

If you find yourself likewise, perhaps you'll enjoy our Autumnal domestic tidbits:

My take on a pinterest find (thanks for letting me mooch, Katie J.)-

 Autumn blooms:

(I stole them from the side of the road. I don't even know if that's legal. I was just waiting for someone to jump out of their car and shout "Hey! Wildflowers are for everyone to enjoy, you selfish, selfish nature thief."
If it was wrong, I got my punishment in the form of the worst allergy attack of my life. I could hardly see out of my oozing eyes well enough to drive home and my dash and windshield now have a fine coating of what used to be on the inside of my nose.
The flowers and I have since made peace.)

 My take on squash: (See it, don't eat it.)

 Leftover burlap. . .

 And alas, I believe I am also entering the Autumn of the adequate metabolism. So you betcha I'll be making every calorie count.

Apple cider floats:
I used this recipe and was not disappointed one little bit.

 Truth be told, something about this time of year really does wake me up and make me want to

cook and create and fill our life with sweet sights and smells and memories.

Trite, but true.

I love you, autumn. Welcome, welcome.

This morning. . .

I walked into Emme and Olivia's room to find O. using E.'s crib for her floor routine. . .

And Emme standing, YES STANDING, practically nose diving out. How can it not have crossed my mind that it was time to move the mattress down?!
Well, disaster averted. Now Emme's crib is furniture surfer safe.
It also just occurred to me to start brushing her teeth even though she sprouted her first pearly white nearly four months ago.
My poor neglected fourth child, is there a therapy fund I should be contributing to?

More Thrift Store Love

Palm sander (Mother's day) + a little glaze (leftover paint mixed with water) + bun feet,
and the tacky thrift store pirate chest. . .

 . . .becomes our new dress ups box.

And what do the Wilson girls most like to dress up and pretend to be?

Poor.

I may have said under my breath once that they don't have to pretend. Ha ha.
Of course, we really do have everything our little student budget hearts desire.
And when we don't, we can usually find it at the thrift store.

Home Girls

The little ladies left behind at home have found a new love for each other...

 They've also found...

 a new love...

 for playing...

 under the sheets...

 in their own little white fluffy world.

 I've found a new love for the quiet, slow paced days at home with two happy sisters.

p.s I've also found that having only 2 kids around is like a superpower. I can do unimaginable feats of keeping the house clean for minutes at a time, and feats of grocery shopping.

First Days

Malan headed off to first grade earlier this week. Holy heck, hasn't she grown up over the summer?

On Jane's last precious day before heading off to
all-day kindergarten, we:

Oh I love that girl.

At the bus stop on Jane's big day, Malan was the perfect helpful big sister...

 ...while Jane ran up to a fellow kindergartner and said/shouted,"Hey, you want to be my friend?" I think she's going to be just fine. Have fun little sweetie, the world is yours for the taking.

 I am excited for my little scholars,

But man, it's a real kick in the gut sending them off all day.
Looking forward to the long weekend with them all to myself.

Come home soon, ladies. I'll be waiting for my hugs and kisses.

Quiet Mornings

I like it best when we don't have anywhere we have to go...
When the house is still and one by one I hear the girls waking up.

 Someone (probably Jane) maybe sleeps in a while...

We don't start chores or make breakfast.
We just talk some and play a little and wait for the day to get us going.

Malan told me how sometimes she wakes up thinking about all the best days she's had and all
her favorite memories and how it makes her feel happy and a little sad at the same time.
Quiet mornings make me feel that way, too.

Childhood Rite of Passage

I think there comes a time in every child's life where the little entrepreneur inside prompts a business venture of some sort. I remember my mother letting me set up a table at the end of our driveway to sell all my unwanted toys. Unfortunately, I had labeled the (exorbitant) prices across the front of each toy in permanent marker, so I didn't get many takers.

I think the girls' lemonade stand was slightly more elegant: a vintage table cloth, dainty chairs, hand made signs, and an umbrella to keep their small stand shaded.

Lemonade and a sugar cookie for just 25 cents. Quite a bargain!

Of course they lured in customers by openly sampling the product themselves.

 Waiting, waiting.

I may have bribed a neighbor or two, but once there was a crowd, others started to come by. 

They did pretty well for themselves! Nice to see a childhood dream realized every once in a while.

A diagnosis

Caleb's dear Dad and the girls' Grandpa Wilson has been diagnosed with an anaplastic astrocytoma, a malignant brain tumor. He begins radiation treatment next week.

We love you, Dad. All our thoughts and prayers are with you.