Just Another Thursday

October 8, 2009 @ 3:46 pm | Filed under: Family,Photos

younguns

Comments

Comments RSS | TrackBack URI

  1. sarah says:

    Your wooden floors look so much warmer … and less dusty … than mine. And yet you have so many more children than I. It seems your protestations of not being a Supermother do not stand up to the photographic evidence at all.

  2. MelanieB says:

    I can’t believe how big that baby boy is! I did a double-take.

  3. Ellie says:

    Nah, the floors have to be kept swept so that the baby doesn’t get all his meals from eating dust-bunnies. But if Lissa is anything like me … *thinks* … not that I’m suggesting she is, or anything! Where am I going with this?! Oh, just that keeping the floors tidy due to Baby is one thing; one can feel one has done the most important thing, whilst letting certain other things (undefined), erm, slide.

    But of course, I’m only talking about me here. *smile*

  4. Hannah says:

    I agree with MelanieB. I can’t believe you had him less than a year ago; he just looks like one of the gang!

  5. Kristen Laurence says:

    That Huck is so dang cute!! (Need. to. hold. baby.) Kids are the best – lying on floors, running and screaming and skipping at the park, eating raisins stuck in the carpet. Not caring what anyone thinks. Sometimes I wish I was one!

  6. Melissa Wiley says:

    Oh Sarah, Sarah, if you could but see my floors up close! :) If they don’t look dusty in that photo, it’s only because they had been polished by a belly-scooting baby with a drooly shirt. Ellie is very much on the right track but even she gives me too much credit. We sweep often, but finding a good time to *clean* the floors? Near impossible. Ask Laurie; she knows what they look like up close and in person. ;)

    On the first day of Shakespeare Camp in August, I made a snap decision to move the sofa up against the fireplace so we’d have more room. The other children arrived just in time to see the MOUNTAIN RANGE of dust bunnies, stray toys, ponytail holders, board books, and colored pencils underneath the sofa’s regular spot. It was hilarious!

  7. Ellie says:

    When Eli (now twenty) was a baby — really, until he was about five, I’d say — I swept daily and mopped three times a week, without fail. When Calli (now ten) was wee, I swept daily, and mopped once a week. I was eight months pregnant with Joshua when we moved into this house (he’s seven): I scoured the house repeatedly leading up to his birth. I will not say how (in)frequently I have mopped since. I’d say the sweep/vacuum happens weekly.

    Lissa, we don’t have a sofa, but I do not wish to know what resides under the piano. No, I do not.

  8. Penny says:

    lol – when Erin was about 4 I mopped the floor and she looked at me like I was nuts and said “mommy, what *is* that thing…” lol

    Cute photo, and very cute little pals you get to hang out with every day – good times.

Leave a Reply

Comment a lot? Register here. Already registered? Login here.

Want your own gravatar? Get one here.


Welcome to

the Bonny Glen—

the online home of

children's book author

Melissa Wiley




In the Archives

you'll find posts about:


and much more!





Contact Me


Where to find unabridged Martha & Charlotte Books


My Bonny Clan

Jane, 15 yrs old
Rose, 12 yrs
Beanie, 9 yrs
Wonderboy, 6 yrs
Rilla, 4 yrs
Huck, 19 months

and Scott, the love of my life



Every Face I Look at Seems Beautiful






Book Log 2010



Book Log 2009



Book Log 2008



chestertonbaby



My Maudly Books


My Big List of Booklists


Boy with the Perfect Heart


My Bosom Buddies


The Green Ways of Growing


Some Breezy Open


Scary Junkyard Dogs


The Quiet Joy


Way Leads on to Way


At the Museum


Balboa Park Posts


Favorite Fictional Families


The Barcelona Journal






How We Learn

“Exploration,” says John Stilgoe, author of Outside Lies Magic, “is a liberal art, because it is an art that liberates, that frees, that opens away from narrowness. And it is fun.”

Yes: it is so, so much fun, and that is why I write these posts all chattery with excitement over this or that connection the kids made today. (Or that I made myself!) I know I get carried away, but that’s the point, isn’t it, that way leading on to way has carried me away?

And yet—and yet—I think we are at once ‘carried away’ and made more fully present in the now, more rooted, by these relationships between ideas about things past and future. The joy of connection makes me want to celebrate this moment, this brief encounter with wild-haired child and broad-trunked tree, bus going by, sign on church wall, Scottish warlord creeping over the tower wall and startling the English soldier’s wife who has just put her babe in arms to sleep by crooning that the Black Douglas won’t get him. Child, laughing, shouting “Dinna ye be sae sure aboot that!” across the courtyard outside the library. How can I not celebrate this freedom?

(from a post called Way Leads on to Way)




snidely200

boys


rosebaby

3littles

rillachin

3932141947_a5a702c941








Search This Blog


 Subscribe to my feed




Coming in October with a foreword by yours truly


Recent Comments



Twittered

Twitter Updates



    Recent Posts



    I Heart the Kidlitosphere

    Check out this big list of children's-book-related blogs at Kidlitosphere Central

    Author and Illustrator Blogs







    A Word about How I Blog

    Every day is complicated, messy, and full of friction. And every day has glorious or cozy moments worth celebrating. I seldom bother to chronicle the friction and the mess because writing time is fleeting and precious—and childhood even more so. I’d rather capture the small joys that I might forget—or take for granted—if I don’t take time to set them down in words.

    (Excerpt from this post about Real Life, quoted here because I don't want anyone to be under the impression that things are always perfect around here! Heaven knows we are anything but. Perfect, frictionless, orderly? Nope. Happy? Most of the time!)




    Be Like the Bird

    Be like the bird
    Who, pausing in flight
    On limb too slight,
    Feels it give way beneath her,
    Yet sings,
    Knowing she has wings.

    —Victor Hugo




    From My Feed Reader



    Find my books at IndieBound

    Shop Indie Bookstores