Merry Christmas, Old Man

    (photo by Scott Snyder)

Dear Dad,

It is almost Christmas and I miss you terribly. You have been gone - where to, exactly? World's longest fishing trip?? - for over four years now. Which is ridiculous. Don't you realize I am verging on child #2, a BOY, and you are missing it? You really should consider popping back in for a few months' visit...

I am missing you this Christmas because time is slipping away from me to do all the holiday fun things I want to do (not the least of which reasons is my enormous pregnancy), and everyone around me seems to be in a rather grinchy mood, and just in general, I miss your love of this time and your sense of wonder. Which somehow I inherited. And miss sharing it with you.

You were known for buying extravagant (and ridiculous?) presents for your granddaughters, Anna and Emma, shoving them away in the front closet where Mom never looks, and then wrapping them yourself and pulling out this massive pile of gifts for under the tree on Christmas Eve when everyone was asleep. We always got presents from Mom and Dad, but we knew there would be at least one special one from just Dad, that no one knew about. Something you had specially gone and picked out, something pricey or classy. And of course the price wasn't the point, but that was how you showed your love. According to the "Five Languages of Love," you were the gift giver.

You would gripe and grouch at Mom for the whole month of December, getting a bit of Grinch stuck in your soul for whatever the annual reason was...then come out with some precious rock in a tiny box for her on Christmas morning. I don't know if she thought that made up for everything previous...but it did always express your undying love for her, at least to me. I knew that you never bought a piece of jewelry out of obligation or "being in the doghouse," but you bought many special things for her out of the generous outpouring of your heart. You were full to the brim with love.

I miss the traditions we all had, like the things the "morning people" did when everyone else was asleep. I of course tried to miss them all at the time, but now, as you may know, I am UP at those ungodly hours - being a mom and all - and now I could actually TALK to you over a morning coffee, or do a Sudoku while you worked a crossword, waiting for everyone else to arise. You could be having those hysterical bonding play moments with Miss Lucinda like you used to have with Anna - special trips out for pancakes ("just the two of us") or playing "preacher" and giving her your humanist/atheist version of a sermon, or making loop pot holders. Which the kids still do. Lucinda is all about morning talks and sharing breakfast treats. You would be in heaven and I would love seeing it.

I miss you insisting on reading "The Night Before Christmas" on Xmas Eve, no matter what other games/activities/mayhem the girls had planned for the evening. I miss you reading "The Owl on Christmas Morn," your most precious poem about your father, every Christmas morning since his death, over twenty years ago...and how every SINGLE year, you and I STILL get choked up over it, and weep - for just a minute - into our orange juice. I miss your sense of family = an aggravating pile of people loaded into the house that you want to get away from (but are sad and lonely if a single one does not show up that year). I miss your generosity and hosting of the festive season.

You loved a party. You needed your "cave time" before and after. You relished the Christmas cookies...as well as a six-stack of Oreos (just as sacred) with glass of milk, taken down to the Man Cave. You would wear holiday colors to the occasions, take the kids (even if they were snotty and sick) out to see Christmas lights, and build an eight-inch snowman with your granddaughter (so she wouldn't be afraid of the full-size one).

Dear god, how am I supposed to live the rest of my life without you? I miss you every day, Dad. But especially at this time of year. You implanted so many precious goals and inspired dreams, unattainable expectations for others, and a sense of magic and love that will last my entire life. I hope I can impart these to Lucy and Jack. I hope we can remember your spirit every year for the next sixty or so. I hope you can feel my love and know my heart.

Because it is with you. Wherever you may be. "Merry Christmas to all [you], and to all [you] a good night!"

I love you.

~Al

(photo by Scott Snyder)
 

(photo by Steven Johnson)

Lucy's Picks - November 2012

It's been a while since we've written - life has been VERY busy! But we are enjoying our new town of Henniker, and liking the small but friendly and adequately stocked Tucker Free Public Library. (Though they could use more baby-appropriate DVD's if you feel like donating.) We especially love Kristin, the children's room librarian, who memorized our names the very first time we met her and now always greets us by name. Lucy loves sitting at the tiny tables with tiny chairs and coloring with big, fat crayons while her very pregnant and huge Mama huffs around picking out books and movies. Here are some of our recent favorite books:

Disney, It's a Small World: Hello, World!, by Disney Press
A delightful book of "hello"s from around the globe, each with its own beautifully designed, colorful depiction of the host country. Pronunciations are given (though I wish they had added the accent marks). Travel from Kenya to Egypt to Japan to Sweden and more. Truly delightful and Lucinda loves reading this while she eats in her high chair. I want to buy a copy - it's that good.

Bathing, by Liesbet Sloggers
This reminds me of the Kevin on the airplane book. Same author or illustrator? A sweet and cute board book about a little boy getting ready for his bath, enjoying his tub time, and then getting clean and dry. Perfect length and perfect for my little bath time gal, who both loves her bath and HATES getting out!
[Note: Yes, it is by the same author of the Kevin books, and the one I remembered was Kevin Takes a Trip, a book we just love about his first trip on an airplane with Grandma!]

A Houseful of Christmas, by Barbara Joosse*
Really love this book and want to buy a copy of it too, as we have a long held tradition in the Cox clan of reading stories the night before Christmas. In this cute tale, all the quirky relatives gather at Grandma's house for Christmas dinner and opening of presents, then get caught by a snowstorm...so everyone has to stay overnight, on the living room floor. So sweet and even features the family dog! Plus, sleeping over on the living room floor is one of my Christmas tradition want-to's (but we have not convinced Daddy yet...). *Barbara Joosse happens to be the author of one of Lucinda's all-time favorite books, Mama, Do You Love Me?, beautifully illustrated with Alaskan Inuit-style drawings by Barbara Lavallee.

The Polite Elephant, by Richard Scarry
One of my very favorites, a repeat library checkout and also a keeper, having grown up in the polite Midwest and all. There really is nothing more important than being polite! :) This little book captivates Lucy and we love the story line and the drawings, showing how the Polite Elephant is polite and kind wherever he goes, always lending a helping hand and putting his best foot forward (and yes, I looked it up, they are called "feet"). Love it.

You Are a Lion! And Other Fun Yoga Poses, by Taeeun Yoo
We haven't spent enough time with this book yet (LG has been too sick lately). But Lucy suddenly started doing recognizable yoga poses about a week or two ago. Out of nowhere. I figured maybe the babysitter was teaching her? But Jenn said no! So, I guess the girl just knows those ancient body movements from her deepest core. No surprises there. So I got this book out and it looks wonderful - showing little illustrations of kids doing easy poses and practicing being a lion or a cobra, etc. I look forward to doing these with my little yogini.

The Boss Baby, by Marla Frazee
[OK, a slight departure, as this one is for all you new parents, and NOT one of Lucy's favorites, for what will become obvious reasons. But I LOVED it! Hy-sterical, says the Mama!]
This book shows a teeny tiny executive baby who comes to the home and dominates, dictates schedules, throws temper tantrums if things are not done according to his exact wishes, and pretty much takes over everything. It is truly hilarious and a must-read for any new parents. Would make a great 1-yr birthday party gift...for Mom and Dad! As a shower gift, no parent-to-be would believe it yet, nor are they willing to admit the mayhem that is about to come to them! haha

The Great Big Book of Families, by Mary Hoffman
This is a superb book, another must-buy, and shows all manner of different styles of what makes a family, from the traditional American "family unit" to single parents, gay parents, grandparent-parents, adopted parents, and on and on. I really appreciate the positive message that anywhere you are loved and taken care of can be your home and your special family. I don't feel the illustrations do the book justice, but that's just Mama's opinion. A great book overall.

All right, that ought to keep you busy for a while. Get thee to thy local library! And enjoy some reading recommendations, from our house to yours.

Love,
Ally and Lucinda Grace (and Baby-to-be Jack)

Grandma Mama

 

photo from web



Excerpt from article:

"What's the nicest thing mom has ever given you? Chances are it won't top Linda Sirois's gift to her daughter Angel Hebert: a healthy baby boy. The Portland Herald Press reports that the Maine grandmother, 49, acted as a surrogate for Hebert and her husband Brian and delivered their son Madden by C-Section on August 17..."

Read the rest of this amazing story.


Oh World Wide Web, I love you.
~Ally

A solemn wish, a prayer uttered

...that a way will be provided so that all of the cousins and their children can get together in Indiana in October for Grandma Ruthie's memorial service. With no one missing. Including us Snyders.

Thank You.

~Amen.

Today I am Grateful...

1. that I didn't just choke on that slice of apple that got caught in my throat as I tried to answer the phone! (it's the little things....)

2. that I have a dear friend at work who always visits me during the day and cheers me up, and he's back from vacation!

3. that my boss made the right decision and went on his year-long sabbatical...though i will miss him lots, he will love his new assignment for the year!

4. that i have now had as many wonderful bosses as insane ones, possibly even more (am too timid to actually count them up for fear the totals might still be swayed the other way...). regardless, this last one was GREAT.

5. that i am not laid off YET. still don't know if the axe is coming or has been averted, but today, i am going to earn some pay, so that's a good thing.

6. am hoping to gather together with my extended family soon for a memorial service for Grandma Ruthie, in Indiana. i cannot tell you much it will heal my heart just to see and hug them all again.

7. our daughter is growing and learning by leaps and bounds. last night we bought her a multi-faceted musical toy/book/piano thing with bday money from her Mimi, and tonight we will have fun playing with it.

8. new baby Snyder is growing and making her/his presence known - middle of the night must-have-cereal attacks, leg cramps, inability to fit in any pants, hormonal rages, and poking his/her sister during her middle of the night snuggles with Mama. that last one is fun. new baby's all like, "get offa me!!" :)

9. dear friends who continue to support and love me, through all the ups and downs.

10. that i can still see that others are struggling more than i am, and have love and compassion for them. as long as i can see someone else through my fog, i feel things for me will be okay.

~Ally 

absolutely worth reposting

Prayer for Our Daughters

by Mark Jarman
May they never be lonely at parties
Or wait for mail from people they haven't written
Or still in middle age ask God for favors
Or forbid their children things they were never forbidden.

May hatred be like a habit they never developed
And can't see the point of, like gambling or heavy drinking.
If they forget themselves, may it be in music
Or the kind of prayer that makes a garden of thinking.

May they enter the coming century
Like swans under a bridge into enchantment
And take with them enough of this century
To assure their grandchildren it really happened.

May they find a place to love, without nostalgia
For some place else that they can never go back to.
And may they find themselves, as we have found them,
Complete at each stage of their lives, each part they add to.

May they be themselves, long after we've stopped watching.
May they return from every kind of suffering
(Except the last, which doesn't bear repeating)
And be themselves again, both blessed and blessing.

"Prayer for Our Daughters" by Mark Jarman, from Bone Fires: New and Selected Poems. © Sarabande Books, 2011.

image borrowed from sunflowerplace.net

The steadfast love

of the Lord never ceases

His [her] mercies never

come to an end

They are new every morning

New every morning

Great is thy faithfulness, O Lord

Great is thy faithfulness.



Gradeschool's Large Windows

Gradeschool's Large Windows by Thomas Lux weren't built to let the sunlight in. They were large to let the germs out. When polio, which sounds like the first dactyl of a jump rope song, was on the rage, you did not swim in public waters. The awful thing was an iron lung. We lined up in our underwear to get the shot. Some kids fainted, we all were stung. My cousin Speed sat in a vat of ice cubes until his scarlet fever waned, but from then on his heart was not the same. My friend's girlfriend was murdered in a hayfield by two guys from Springfield. Linda got a bad thing in her blood. Everybody's grandmother died. Three times, I believe, Bobby shot his mother. Rat poison took a beloved local bowler. A famous singer sent condolences. In the large second floor corner room of my 4th grade class the windows were open. Snow, in fat, well-fed flakes floats in where they and the chalk-motes meet. And the white rat powder, too, sifts down into a box of oatmeal on the shelf below.

____

I have no idea what this poem "means," but it has some well-spun imagery that I love, and makes me think. Which is enough for a reason to post, in my opinion. I welcome your comments and thoughts on this poem...

~Ally

worth reposting (from May, 2009)

Poetry as Insurgent Art [I am signaling you through the flames]
by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

I am signaling you through the flames.
The North Pole is not where it used to be.
Manifest Destiny is no longer manifest.
Civilization self-destructs.
Nemesis is knocking at the door.
What are poets for, in such an age?
What is the use of poetry?
The state of the world calls out for poetry to save it.
If you would be a poet, create works capable of answering the challenge of apocalyptic times, even if this meaning sounds apocalyptic.
You are Whitman, you are Poe, you are Mark Twain, you are Emily Dickinson and Edna St. Vincent Millay, you are Neruda and Mayakovsky and Pasolini, you are an American or a non-American, you can conquer the conquerors with words....

Half Mile Down

Half Mile Down
by Michael Ryan


My sick heart and my sick soul
I'd gladly fasten in a bag
and drop into an ocean-hole
to float in darkness as a rag.

Would it learn to make its light?
Maybe in a million years.
A million years of constant night
in which it can't stop its fears

flaring their nightmare tentacles
and bioluminescent eyes
as cold and sharp as icicles
under moonless, starless skies:

medusae, spookfish, cephalopods,
jellies with no eyes or brains,
lethal and beautiful as gods,
locked in endless predation chains.

How seamless then the world would seem,
which life on earth never did,
the living water like a dream
crowded with prowling vampire squid

that want only to stay alive
among other monsters innocent
of all but the pure drive to survive
without self-judgment.

this one's for you, Mom (and i love it too)

Sea Fever
by John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking,

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

**Happy One Year Old Birthday, Miss Lucinda Grace!**

(all photos by Scott Snyder except for this bottom one, by me)

I love you more than words can say. You have changed everything - our whole worlds! You are the sweetest and best thing that has ever happened to me. You are gonna take this world by storm!

Love always and forever ~

Mama

xxxxoooo

SWDB: This Thursday in June

The Simple Woman's Daybook

June 14, 2012
Outside My Window...the sun is shining through the leafy trees. It is summertime in New Hampshire.

I am thankful for...my darling daughter Lucy, who is growing in leaps and bounds, faster than I can keep up with her, and who is stretching my heart every day. She is easy to love, easy to marvel at, easy to forgive. Lucinda will turn one in a few short weeks. How is that even possible?

I am thinking...about how to reconstruct the pieces of my life that have fallen into disarray. I read on a bumper sticker this week, "The problems we face cannot be fixed by the minds that created them." This is not good news, if it's true!

From the kitchen...Lucinda can see the back yard during her baths in the kitchen sink. She has decided to love her baths again, for which I am endlessly thankful, as they are so fun again. She has two rubber duckies who join her, and another yellow plastic toy that pours water out. She sits in that "tub" next to the huge pile of dishes stacked in the dish drainer and is just every bit a part of our every day life. Reminds me of my baths in the sink with my cousin at Bass Lake as a kid.

I am creating...a Thank You project for me and the husband to do on a daily basis, as we are both feeling underappreciated and undercherished at the moment. gotta remedy that. [hmm, I am going to leave that answer in there from April...as I never did it and we are still feeling this way. goal: complete this project.]

I am reading... absolutely nothing right now. Who has time to read? I am a mother who gets no sleep! OK, well I am occasionally reading from "If the Buddha Married," which is a very good and insightful book but kind of aggravates me because the Buddha WAS married when he up and left his wife and child for his spiritual quest and never came back (as far as I know). So it's a little hard to take marriage advice from that guy...

I am hoping... to see the mother bear again in our yard. I guess I shouldn't be hoping for that, but I long to see her and feel her presence and I find myself looking for her both day and night. "Am I not with you, I who am your mother?" ~ Virgin of Guadalupe

I am hearing...messages in the stars lately. The Big Dipper and The Summer Triangle have been quite comforting.

I am wearing...the one pair of shoes I could afford this year, b/c I bought them with a gift card of Scott's from Christmas. Am not loving the extreme limitations of this half-an-income thing. It is harder and more trying than I thought.

Around the house...progress is being made, one tiny corner at a time. We have never had such a hard time unpacking or settling into a house, but then again, we never had a baby before (together). Scott's mom is coming to visit soon, so that mere fact will likely jump start the mad cleaning and organizing into gear. 

I am going...to attend a yoga in the park event next Saturday (hopefully) in Henniker. The thought of doing group yoga, outside, is very appealing. I have been trying to start meditating again, and doing yoga on a regular basis. I need some serious centering and balancing right now.

One of my favorite things...is going back to bed on weekend mornings, because my husband is great about taking over with Babykins so I can catch up on a little sleep. She is up several times a night these days, and we are failing miserably according to the sleep training methods, but such is what it is and we love her and this will not last forever. But crawling into bed and pulling the blankets over my head while I know the two of them are fine and having fun is sweet, sweet bliss. Thank you, Scott.

A few plans for the rest of the week...are visiting with two dear friends in Vermont this weekend who are needing some love and laughter these days. And celebrating Father's Day in whatever manner Daddy sees fit.

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

 Lucy in Mama's hat from when she was a baby. photo by Scott Snyder.

 

Lucy playing in the sandbox at her wonderful baby sitter's house this summer. photo by Jenn Dennis.

I've been missing my Dad terribly lately. Needing him. I love this picture, waving from the bottom of the world's largest pyramid in Mexico (I was on my way to the top)...

feels like he is still waving from where he is now.

 

Dad in Mexico, on a wonderful trip with us the year he died. Love you.

View other entries at The Simple Woman's Daybook. And write your own!

~Ally

I love this so much today:

"Awake to stiffness, awake to ease. Awake to boundless joy, awake to the deep well of sorrow. Awake to fear, awake to spaciousness. Just awakeness; this is your home."

~ Margaret Fletcher, amazing and insightful teacher at White Mountain Sangha

Let Evening Come

by Jane Kenyon

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come. 




____
I think I would like to illustrate this into a children's goodnight book. Must get out the paints. ~Ally

Grateful for

1. Time with Laurel, Mom, and Lucinda tomorrow. Laurel is having a party to sell stuff and we are happily attending!
2. Boston being so close by.
3. The feeling after sweeping the disgusting bathroom floor. A clean floor is a wonderful thing.
4. Had a good long walk today. It was sunny and there was a cool, gentle breeze blowing. A good Spring day.
5. I have a lettuce plant (!) that my friend gave me for Easter and I can't wait to put it in my garden and grow some more lettuce. It is actually thrilling to have lettuce growing in a pot in my kitchen!
6. A brand new spider plant that is lush and thriving, from friends as a gift today. I got rid of most of my plants when we moved and/or this winter in general, and now we have a new house, full of sun, and a big yard. I am super excited to start fresh.
7. Little Girl is learning to crawl. I better get on that child-proofing project...
8. Changes underway in my spirit and heart.
9. Spring fever. I think it is going to lead me to a new and hopefully much better haircut.
10. The ever-growing idea that time and space heals a lot. And that change is inevitable and eternal - it can upset as well as comfort us, and I know I can count on it.

~Ally

Poems for Sunday

I swear the earth shall surely be complete to him or
her who shall be complete,
The earth remains jagged and broken only to him
or her who remains jagged and broken.

I swear there is no greatness or power that does not
emulate those of the earth,
There can be no theory of any account unless it
corroborate the theory of the earth,
No politics, song, religion, behavior, or what not,
is of account, unless it compare with the
amplitude of the earth,
Unless it face the exactness, vitality, impartiality,
rectitude of the earth.

~Walt Whitman


---

To live content with small means,
to seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion,
to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich,
to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly,
to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart,
to bear all cheerfully,
do all bravely,
await occasions,
hurry never--
in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,
grow up through the common.
This is to be my symphony.

~William Ellery Channing

Simple Woman's Day Book

The Simple Woman's Daybook

April 5, 2012

Outside My Window...it is cloudy and chilly, the perfect weather for Maundy Thursday.

I am thinking...how there must be so many lonely mothers who have decided to stay home with their kids to raise them, but are desperate for some adult human interaction, especially in the late winding hours of afternoon.

I am thankful for...my parents having stayed together all those years, because even though I don't know how to do it, i know it can be done, and that gives me hope.

From the kitchen...i should be making some banana bread to thank that lovely mom in town who gave me a bunch of leftover baby food jars and diapers, via our new babysitter.

I am wearing...a bizarre, somewhat mismatched outfit. maybe today is the day to get my clothes unpacked finally and sorted out. oh, but a nap seems like a better choice...

I am creating...a Thank You project for me and the husband to do on a daily basis, as we are both feeling underappreciated and undercherished at the moment. gotta remedy that.

I am going...to try and join the local Zumba class on thursday nights. i really want to meet people, and do something active and fun. my hearts needs this.

I am reading... Joshua: A Parable for Today by Joseph Girzone.

I am hoping...to revive our family happiness in this new town and new house. already scott seems much happier here than in our previous home. but miracles take time and i am hoping that bit by bit, we will both come to a place of joy and contentment.

I am hearing...my father in my head a lot lately. he always seems to be sending me messages and for the most part, they are less judgy and more gentle than when he was here on earth. my view of life after death changed somewhat while reading a silly novel called "Saving Fish From Drowning," and i now always think of my father as possessing divine all-knowingness in his new status, whatever it may be. it has helped our "relationship."

Around the house...is one chaotic pile of mess after another. we moved about two weeks ago and i had work conferences going on at the same time. we have barely had a chance to stop and breathe. we have a LOT of work to do to get this house feeling like home!

One of my favorite things...is regular old day-to-day life with laurel, and i got a slice of that heaven last saturday when she came to visit overnight with the boys. i just wish we lived in the same town. i really need that daily-ness for the health of my soul. it fills me up so beautifully.

A few plans for the rest of the week...are continuing to prep for my next upcoming conference at work, and then unpacking and family time - hopefully a little bonding - and then some friendly socializing over Easter dinner at mom's with some of her/our friends. lucy does love her some partying.

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

Miss Nine Months Old, as photographed by Daddy, Scott Snyder, this morning.

And tomorrow is the full moon...
View other entries at The Simple Woman's Daybook. And write your own!

~Ally

beautiful Jane Kenyon

After an Illness, Walking the Dog
by Jane Kenyon

Wet things smell stronger,
and I suppose his main regret is that
he can sniff just one at a time.
In a frenzy of delight
he runs way up the sandy road—
scored by freshets after five days
of rain. Every pebble gleams, every leaf.

When I whistle he halts abruptly
and steps in a circle,
swings his extravagant tail.
The he rolls and rubs his muzzle
in a particular place, while the drizzle
falls without cease, and Queen Anne’s lace
and Goldenrod bend low.

The top of the logging road stands open
and light. Another day, before
hunting starts, we’ll see how far it goes,
leaving word first at home.
The footing is ambiguous.

Soaked and muddy, the dog drops,
panting, and looks up with what amounts
to a grin. It’s so good to be uphill with him,
nicely winded, and looking down on the pond.

A sound commences in my left ear
like the sound of the sea in a shell;
a downward, vertiginous drag comes with it.
Time to head home. I wait
until we’re nearly out to the main road
to put him back on the leash, and he
—the designated optimist—
imagines to the end that he is free.

borrowed from today's Gwarlingo: http://www.gwarlingo.com/2012/the-sunday-poem-jane-kenyon/

(such a lovely blog post dedicated to Jane Kenyon today. and i dedicate this reposting of it to Barb Bald. xo)

another one you might like: http://astherabbithole.blogspot.com/2011/07/100-times-beginner-status-thoughts-on.html

Beautiful baby boy new to the world xo

Welcome to the world, Baby Kai. You are a most beautiful dream come true!

And congratulations to mom Kenda and dad Bob. Such a precious time in your lives.

~Ally

A Prayer

A prayer from the Book of Common Prayer (shared tonight by a friend of a friend on FB):

Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work,
or watch, or weep this night, and
give your angels charge over those who sleep.
Tend the sick, Lord Christ;
give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering,
pity the afflicted, shield the joyous;
and all for your love's sake.
Amen.

(images from the web)

Info: household plants that are poisonous to children

direct excerpt from this article at planningfamily.com

Plants and Flowers

Did you know that many common house and garden plants could be poisonous to your little one if they are ingested? Since your infant is at an age when he is apt to put anything and everything in his mouth, you may want to consider removing certain plants from your home entirely, or at the very least, placing them far out of reach from your exploring baby. If you hang plants up high to be out of reach, be sure that no leaves or flowers can fall into an area that your baby could reach. If you do keep poisonous plants in your home, be sure to label them clearly. Even if you know all the names of your plants, chances are most of your babysitters won't and if your child accidentally ingests a leaf or two, labeling the plant will help expedite communication with their doctor or poison control.

Some poisonous plants include:

• Iris
• Lily of the Valley
• English Ivy
• Hyacinth bulbs
• Azalea
• Daffodil bulbs
• Rhododendron
• Rhubarb leaves
• Tomato plant leaves
• Holly and Mistletoe

Though you may have heard that the Poinsettia is poisonous, Holly and Mistletoe are the real culprits. Poinsettias are not poisonous, but they can be irritating, so you should still be cautious and keep this plant out of baby's reach.

Lucy's Picks - January

Some of our recent favorites from the Concord Library: check 'em out!


Bibs and Boots, by Alison Lester

All of Baby, Nose to Toes, by Victoria Adler


Tubby, by Leslie Patricelli:
We loved this book about a little baby having his bath. It reminded me totally of Lucy, who loves her tubby time, and the pictures are both hysterical and endearing.


Good Morning, Toucan, by Dwell Studio:
This beautiful open-the-flap book will delight you with its brightly colored world that unfolds page by page.


Lemons Are Not Red, by Laura Vaccaro Seeger


Say Hello to Zorro!, by Carter Goodrich:
One of Mama's favorites...another book probably written for dear Judy the Cat who is still feeling displaced (and cranky about it). This book is about a wonderful fussy old dog who loves his daily schedule, "and everybody stuck to the schedule," whose routine is sorely interrupted by an inavder, a new dog, who turns out to be a great companion.


The Tightrope Walker, by Bernadette Gervais and Francisco Pittau:
This is a beautiful book, reminiscent of "Harold and the Purple Crayon," that takes us on a magical nighttime journey in the imagination of one little boy, a tightrope walker.


Perfect Square, by Michael Hall:
This author shows such a vivid imagination and the story urges us to take any adversity and make something beautiful from it. Lucy LOVES the images in the book, and I love the meaning.


Imagine a Night, by Sarah L. Thomson with paintings by Rob Gonsalves:
Apparently the author wrote this book on inspiration from the paintings within, and it is easy to see why - they are beautiful and mysterious, evoking great wonder and delight. Such imagination and inspiration within these pages - do give it a read. Both writers and artists will especially love this one.


We could go on and on. But that's a snippet of what Miss Lucy's been reading. We are off to the library again today to see what other trouble we can get into.

Love, Ally

a happy New Year

from Poem-A-Day on poets.org

The Angel that presided 'oer my birth
by William Blake

The Angel that presided 'oer my birth
Said, "Little creature, form'd of Joy and Mirth,
"Go love without the help of any Thing on Earth."

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To welcome new baby Alvarez. We can't wait to meet you, little darling! Welcome to this beautiful world.

~Aunty Ally