Today Allison was blessed by her father in Sacrament Meeting. The blessing was beautiful, and Allison looked lovely in her white blessing dress that Grandma Washburn made. Adam's family and some of his lab mates came to show their support; it was a special day for us!
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Baby Blessing
Today Allison was blessed by her father in Sacrament Meeting. The blessing was beautiful, and Allison looked lovely in her white blessing dress that Grandma Washburn made. Adam's family and some of his lab mates came to show their support; it was a special day for us!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Marvelous Messes
Don't let this sweet, innocent smile fool you. It's secretly hiding a mess mastermind! Thanks to Mr. J, I've enjoyed an unusual number of messes within the past week. I thought I'd share some of the highlights...PRETZELS & MILK
Last Thursday morning the mess-a-thon began with a classic crumb dump. I was upstairs just finishing my makeup (very hurriedly, mind you. I'm pretty good at doing the whole thing in under three minutes) when I heard a dumping sound. As I thumped down the stairs with mascara in hand, the possibilities raced through my mind. Cereal? No, it didn't sound quite like cereal. Crackers? No... I stopped halfway down and peered over the banister. Pretzels! Hundreds of stick pretzels sat on the living room carpet, looking like a pile of miniature logs. The little woodcutter was squatting next to the pile, bag in hand, picking curiously through the mess. "Oh Jared!" I cried. "Did you make a mess?" He helped me put most of them back in the bag, and I grabbed the final handfull that had made the most carpet-contact and walked to the trash can to throw them away. By the time I came back, Jared had grabbed his stuffed animal Thumper and was brushing his big rabbity feet across the pile of salt that remained, watching the grains jump around like popcorn. "Oh no!" I grabbed Thumper and told Jared that this wasn't such a good idea--we needed to vacuum up the salt. I started the vacuum cleaner and managed to keep Jared away from the outlet while I extracted the salt grains from the carpet. As I wheeled the vacuum back to the coat closet, a movement in the kitchen caught my attention. It was you-know-who, bouncing Thumper in a small puddle of milk on the floor. Milk?? How did he--then I remembered. It was left over from when Jared threw his sippie cup overboard at breakfast. Pretzel salt was one thing. A milky splashing spree from Thumper was another. I confiscated Thumper, rinsed off his bottom and feet, left him on a HIGH shelf to dry, and (a little huffily, I admit) cleaned up the milk.
MOUNTAIN CLIMBER
All children, it seems, like to climb. I even heard from another mom that climbing is somehow essential to a child's development. Well, if that's so, then Jared must be approaching a developmental milestone because he has a new found desire to climb. Chairs, beds, the table--he's tried them all (I still have memories of one of my younger sisters running around on top of our kitchen table, so I know this climbing thing is not unprecedented).
Late Thursday afternoon a friend of mine dropped by for a visit and to discuss some business for Young Women. I'm always happy for the chance to talk with another mother (or any non-toddler/infant, for that matter), so I was enjoying a conversation with her while our children played with Jared's toys. Jared must have realized that I wasn't on my guard, because the next thing I know, he's standing on top of our computer desk! How did he get up there? The computer chair was "boomed," as it always is to deter any climbing acts... but I had left the piano bench in front of the computer, and he had used that to get up. Now if every time Jared required redirecting I abandoned my conversation and focused solely on him, I wouldn't have spoken to anyone for weeks (ok, so that's an exaggeration. But not too far off). So I tried to continue talking while gently pulling him down from the desk. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he was back up on that piano bench and gaining elevation. The second time I pulled him down (and push the piano bench back where it's supposed to go), he had something purple in his teeth--my glittery Styrofoam Easter egg! (FYI: Jared has a long-standing addiction to foam products. He can't resist biting into them, be it Nerf balls, the cushy handles on our umbrella stroller and our broom, or--prepare yourself--the foam insulation tubing around the air conditioning hookups. So you see, a foam Easter egg wasn't too bad in the scale of things). I wrested it from his teeth and examined the damage: two double teeth marks. At least it was just from the dollar store, I thought to console myself. He protested as I took it away, but why should he? I know he got in at least two good chomps.
"HEWLP, MAMA. STUCK!"
Before Allison was born, one of my biggest concerns about having a toddler and a newborn was what to do with the toddler while I'm feeding the baby. Luckily, Jared's usually pretty self-entertaining while I'm nursing Allison. But there have been a few occasions when he's run amok... notably this past Tuesday.
Just a little background: Jared loves to climb up on the toilet and "wash his hands" in the bathroom sink. It's become his little reward after sitting on the potty. That morning I was feeding Allison on the couch, and Jared opened the bathroom door and turned on the sink. I had two options. I could heft myself and Allison up off the couch and walk over to investigate (an option that I choose quite often). Or I could let him wash away. He was in a short-sleeved shirt and there was nothing dangerous on the counter, so I chose the latter option and turned back to my book. Five minutes later I heard a little voice saying, "Uh-oh. Hewlp--Mama. Stuck." I set Allison down and walk over to the bathroom doorway. Jared was sitting crosslegged in the sink. He fit so snugly that he couldn't get out. He looked over his shoulder at me and said quite placidly, yet with definite concern, "Mama. Stuck. Hewlp." I laughed, pulled him out, and changed his socks and pants, which were thoroughly soaked. That afternoon we drove out to Meijer and bought equipment to child-proof our door knobs--and it's worked like a charm. It's been three days since then, and he still gets a serious look on his face and says "Uh-oh. Boom" when he sees the bathroom sink.
PYREX MEETS TILE
Wednesday evening at 5:00 found me standing dutifully in the kitchen. After a day of mopping, grocery shopping with two children, and calling in to pay our hospital bill, I had somehow found time to make bread and get it in the oven before dinner time. Chicken was thawing in the microwave, the green beans were already snapped and washed, and I hadn't even pulled out a movie for Jared yet! I was feeling quite accomplished.
However, this feeling shattered as the sound of breaking glass met my ears. I spun around to see Jared standing wide-eyed amid a sea of glass shards. He was holding a plastic measuring cup--the one the glass cup had been sitting in on top of the counter. I still underestimate his reach. Fortunately he had his shoes on, and extra-fortunately it was a nice day outside. I promptly carried him outside and locked the sliding glass door so he couldn't come back into the kitchen until I had cleaned up the mess.
The measuring cup had shattered at a juncture in our kitchen floor that allowed the splinters to fly to the far reaches of all three corners of our kitchen floor. Hence I had to vacuum the entire floor (and shake out Allison's baby seat, which was sitting near the scene of the accident). A little while later and the floor was clean. I put the vacuum away and sighed. It was 5:30. Maybe I would still have time to cook the... Waaaa! Oops. Time to feed Allison. Looks like we'll be having bread for dinner tonight.
I didn't have time to write about Jared climbing into his high chair unsupervised, the mud we encountered on each trip out the door, the tricks Jared has taken to in the bathtub, or what happens if we set the table before he is strapped into his high chair. The truth is, Jared is wonderful, despite all the messes he makes. But I figure that writing about the humorous, challenging things will win me more blog readers than will, say, bragging that he knows all his letters and colors and has the cutest smile in the Midwest. ;) So hooray for messes. I suppose they keep childhood real and keep Mom working to learn the virtue of patience.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Try, Try Again
Garden Saga Part I
When we moved into Winfield Village two years ago, Adam and I were excited to learn that large garden plots were available for rental. Envisioning rows of lacy lettuce; sweet, fat sugar-snap peas dangling from the vine; and dozens of plump, sun-ripened tomatoes, we signed up for a plot.
Now I grew up in Provo, Utah, and every spring my mother planted a small vegetable garden. I distinctly remember the "garden day" each spring when she would call all eight of us outside to help plant the seeds. We poked holes, dropped seeds in, covered them up, watered, and waited. As long as we remembered to water the seeds, they grew. And the only critters we had to compete with were quail and our pet rabbits (who loved the lettuce and spinach). So from my past experience, I thought that to grow a successful garden you merely had to follow the back of the seed packet, water, and await your plentiful harvest. But apparently gardens in Illinois don't work that way.
First we had a late frost. It can be tricky to gauge how soon to plant your cold-weather crops, regardless of your particular climate, but that doesn't make that late frost any less deadly. That killed some of our tender sprouts.
Then we had the rain. Last spring I finally learned why you never hear "we thank thee for the moisture we have received" over LDS pulpits in Illinois. Two weeks of pelting precipitation hammered what few sprouts we had started in April and flooded out our seed beds. At least those few plants that survived didn't go thirsty.
After the rain, we had a month or two of reprieve. About 50% of the seeds we had originally planted had survived and grew into young plants. Adam checked out some gardening books from the library, and we began to read up on how to increase our odds at growing a successful garden. Adam grew to like the Square Foot Gardening method, and we began to gradually implement its techniques into the half of our garden that was surviving, including starting a number of seeds indoors for our fall crop.
Mid-summer brought heat--and lots of it. Our pea plants had been sparse to start with, and soon the sun had baked them into a crispy yellow-brown with hints of green. I often ventured out to the garden with 10-month-old Jared in the baby carrier to water.
In July we started to notice that our zucchini plant was looking somewhat wilty, and our otherwise healthy tomato leaves had developed some brown spots. The melon plants, which had given us a small but sweet watermelon and cantaloupe were looking sorry too. Within a few days, the vine boars had demolished the zucchini plant. Adam tried spraying the plants with garlic-vinegar water, but to no avail. Our vine plants were beat.
The condition of the tomato plants worsened. The brown spots multiplied, and the leaves started to wilt. The fruit seemed unaffected at first, and we harvested a good dozen tomatoes. Soon, however, every plant had wilted under the curse of the blight, and the fruits developed spots. Because of our humid climate, tomato plants can easily aquire a fungal growth on their leaves if watered from overhead (or even if watered from the base, as we were trying to do). The few tomatoes we did harvest were delicious, though.
The broccoli was nibbled by bugs, the lettuce turned bitter with the heat, the cucumbers were bitter, and the spinach and carrots and peppers never sprouted. Our most successful plant was probably the sprig of tarragon that a neighboring gardener gave to us, which we haphazardly planted in a lone corner of the garden and forgot about until it was the only healthy plant standing. (We did have a more successful fall crop, though--the carrots, lettuce, and cabbage did well, and we gathered compost to use in the spring.)
Though our harvest was scarce, we learned a lot from that first summer of gardening. As Adam says, we discovered that we have to "learn the laws of the garden" and abide by them. Reading the seed packets and watering once a day simply isn't going to cut it.
Garden Saga Part II
Having learned the hard way the what-to-dos and what-not-to-dos, Adam was excited to start afresh with our garden this spring. In February I double-checked with the Winfield office to make sure they still had us down for our plot, and we began to plan. We mapped out our garden layout, and Adam marked the plots in the frozen earth. Adam directed the indoor seed-planting and bought a flourescent plant light to put the plants under after they had sprouted in our vermiculite. He found some plywood and made a large box for us to put the compost we had collected all last summer, as well as the mulch we were storing for use this summer. We had also found a metal archway at the dumpster last summer which Adam planned to use for growing melons vertically. Adam tended the indoor sprouts with care for several weeks and planted some of the cold weather crops in the garden. We prayed for a mild spring.
Then one evening in mid-March, Adam came home from work and told me he was going to run out to check on the garden, as he often does in the evenings. He walked down the row to our plot, then stopped. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Our garden was--GONE. There was nothing but dirt. He looked to the plot on the right and then the left to make sure he was in the right spot. Yes, this was our plot. Our fence and fence posts were gone. All of the sprouts were gone. All of the plant covers were gone. The archway was gone. The compost boxes Adam had built were gone. Our shovels and hoe and other supplies were gone. There was nothing left but tilled earth.

Adam found most of our garden tools and supplies in the trash bin, and many of them (such as the chicken wire fencing) were mangled beyond repair. The next morning, we went to the Winfield office to get things straightened out. Apparently there had been a miscommunication. Thinking we didn't want our plot anymore (even though there were plants growing!), they trashed the tools and garden supplies and tilled it. We proposed a compromise--that they compensate us monetarily for the supplies that Adam wasn't able to retrieve from the trash bin. They agreed.
I have to hand it to Adam. Despite the setbacks of last summer's garden, and despite our garden compost, tools, and layout being destroyed with the annihilation of our garden this year, he isn't about to give up. He has re-purchased our supplies and, thanks to a generous "garden stimulus package" from the in-laws, has laid down new topsoil and mulch.
Here is what our garden looks like now:



Adam is already teaching Jared to love gardening:

Here are the beds before Adam added the topsoil:
And after ...

Now for the planting. Wish us luck!
When we moved into Winfield Village two years ago, Adam and I were excited to learn that large garden plots were available for rental. Envisioning rows of lacy lettuce; sweet, fat sugar-snap peas dangling from the vine; and dozens of plump, sun-ripened tomatoes, we signed up for a plot.
Now I grew up in Provo, Utah, and every spring my mother planted a small vegetable garden. I distinctly remember the "garden day" each spring when she would call all eight of us outside to help plant the seeds. We poked holes, dropped seeds in, covered them up, watered, and waited. As long as we remembered to water the seeds, they grew. And the only critters we had to compete with were quail and our pet rabbits (who loved the lettuce and spinach). So from my past experience, I thought that to grow a successful garden you merely had to follow the back of the seed packet, water, and await your plentiful harvest. But apparently gardens in Illinois don't work that way.
First we had a late frost. It can be tricky to gauge how soon to plant your cold-weather crops, regardless of your particular climate, but that doesn't make that late frost any less deadly. That killed some of our tender sprouts.
Then we had the rain. Last spring I finally learned why you never hear "we thank thee for the moisture we have received" over LDS pulpits in Illinois. Two weeks of pelting precipitation hammered what few sprouts we had started in April and flooded out our seed beds. At least those few plants that survived didn't go thirsty.
After the rain, we had a month or two of reprieve. About 50% of the seeds we had originally planted had survived and grew into young plants. Adam checked out some gardening books from the library, and we began to read up on how to increase our odds at growing a successful garden. Adam grew to like the Square Foot Gardening method, and we began to gradually implement its techniques into the half of our garden that was surviving, including starting a number of seeds indoors for our fall crop.In July we started to notice that our zucchini plant was looking somewhat wilty, and our otherwise healthy tomato leaves had developed some brown spots. The melon plants, which had given us a small but sweet watermelon and cantaloupe were looking sorry too. Within a few days, the vine boars had demolished the zucchini plant. Adam tried spraying the plants with garlic-vinegar water, but to no avail. Our vine plants were beat.
The condition of the tomato plants worsened. The brown spots multiplied, and the leaves started to wilt. The fruit seemed unaffected at first, and we harvested a good dozen tomatoes. Soon, however, every plant had wilted under the curse of the blight, and the fruits developed spots. Because of our humid climate, tomato plants can easily aquire a fungal growth on their leaves if watered from overhead (or even if watered from the base, as we were trying to do). The few tomatoes we did harvest were delicious, though.
The broccoli was nibbled by bugs, the lettuce turned bitter with the heat, the cucumbers were bitter, and the spinach and carrots and peppers never sprouted. Our most successful plant was probably the sprig of tarragon that a neighboring gardener gave to us, which we haphazardly planted in a lone corner of the garden and forgot about until it was the only healthy plant standing. (We did have a more successful fall crop, though--the carrots, lettuce, and cabbage did well, and we gathered compost to use in the spring.)
Though our harvest was scarce, we learned a lot from that first summer of gardening. As Adam says, we discovered that we have to "learn the laws of the garden" and abide by them. Reading the seed packets and watering once a day simply isn't going to cut it.
Garden Saga Part II
Having learned the hard way the what-to-dos and what-not-to-dos, Adam was excited to start afresh with our garden this spring. In February I double-checked with the Winfield office to make sure they still had us down for our plot, and we began to plan. We mapped out our garden layout, and Adam marked the plots in the frozen earth. Adam directed the indoor seed-planting and bought a flourescent plant light to put the plants under after they had sprouted in our vermiculite. He found some plywood and made a large box for us to put the compost we had collected all last summer, as well as the mulch we were storing for use this summer. We had also found a metal archway at the dumpster last summer which Adam planned to use for growing melons vertically. Adam tended the indoor sprouts with care for several weeks and planted some of the cold weather crops in the garden. We prayed for a mild spring.
Then one evening in mid-March, Adam came home from work and told me he was going to run out to check on the garden, as he often does in the evenings. He walked down the row to our plot, then stopped. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Our garden was--GONE. There was nothing but dirt. He looked to the plot on the right and then the left to make sure he was in the right spot. Yes, this was our plot. Our fence and fence posts were gone. All of the sprouts were gone. All of the plant covers were gone. The archway was gone. The compost boxes Adam had built were gone. Our shovels and hoe and other supplies were gone. There was nothing left but tilled earth.
Adam found most of our garden tools and supplies in the trash bin, and many of them (such as the chicken wire fencing) were mangled beyond repair. The next morning, we went to the Winfield office to get things straightened out. Apparently there had been a miscommunication. Thinking we didn't want our plot anymore (even though there were plants growing!), they trashed the tools and garden supplies and tilled it. We proposed a compromise--that they compensate us monetarily for the supplies that Adam wasn't able to retrieve from the trash bin. They agreed.
I have to hand it to Adam. Despite the setbacks of last summer's garden, and despite our garden compost, tools, and layout being destroyed with the annihilation of our garden this year, he isn't about to give up. He has re-purchased our supplies and, thanks to a generous "garden stimulus package" from the in-laws, has laid down new topsoil and mulch.
Here is what our garden looks like now:
Adam is already teaching Jared to love gardening:
Here are the beds before Adam added the topsoil:
Now for the planting. Wish us luck!
Monday, April 13, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Baby Allison
Well, she's here! Allison Lori Washburn made her debut into the world at 6:59am on Tuesday, March 10, after an 8-hour labor. She weighed 7lbs 3oz and has dark hair. We were relieved when we were admitted to the hospital on Monday night--after a week of false alarms and one experience getting sent home from the hospital, we were getting anxious!
We spent two days in the hospital. While it was hard to sleep there, it was nice to spend some exclusive time with Adam and Allison. Carle Hospital's labor & delivery facilities are amazing! We had a very good experience there. We feel very blessed that Allison is such a healthy, happy baby. She eats well (all the nurses were amazed that she was already gaining her birth weight back by the time we left the hospital), and she still sleeps a lot. She rarely cries... although she's starting to find her lungs now that she's two weeks old. We're hoping she keeps her easygoing temperment.
Jared is getting used to sharing Mommy, but he seems to like his little sister nonetheless. He will sometimes stop his play to pat her head or give her a kiss (though he doesn't like her to "play" with his toys. If one of his toys is within her reach, he will say "No baby. Mine!" and grab it away from her. Other than that, the sibling relations are going quite well!)
How strange it is to now be a family of four! It's fun to say "the kids" now instead of just "Jared." And I'm really liking having a girl to dress up. :) Here are some pictures from the first two weeks of Allison's life.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Baby Shower!
We played baby games ("sculptionary," for example, got pretty animated--we had to sculpt baby items from play dough) and enjoyed chatting. For refreshments, Tiffany had an amazing spread of ice cream sundae fixings and lovely chocolate-covered strawberries.
Hooray for baby girls!
Pudding Faux Pas
He made the first two layers and has just finished pouring on the chocolate pudding when I entered the kitchen. He licked the spoon and was about to put it in the sink, but then he st
We puzzled over what to do. We decided that we couldn't take a coffee flavored dessert to a Church function, but Adam still wanted to contribute his dessert. So we compromised. I carefully scraped off the pudding and cream cheese layers while he ran to the nearest grocery store to purchase more ingredients. (Needless to say, this time he bought Jell-O brand chocolate pudding)
One hour (11:00 pm) and a lot of dishes later, Adam had re-created his dessert masterpiece. But this story has a happy ending: awards were given at the dinner for the most artistic dis
The morals of this story? Always sample the pudding before serving it to your guests (especially if it came from ALDI), and "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again!"
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