On Repotting

Let me first say that being a great gardener and having a green thumb is not a hereditary condition. Botanical knowledge is not inherited from one generation to the next.

My mother, grandmother, great-grandmother (and great-grandfather) -- they've all got it (or had it). Me? Not so much. What seems to be common sense to my mother is definitely NOT common sense to me when it comes to all things grown in soil.

That said, I do understand that a plant needs to be repotted every couple of years, even if it's not root-bound -- because the soil gets depleted of its nutrients over time. Those plant roots need more nourishment and are just achin' to soak it all up in a new environment.

And so it goes with me.

I'm a perpetual house/apartment renter. I need new environments and sights. I like to constantly redecorate. I've realized over the years that I like to take myself out of my comfort zone, stretch my roots, and create new homes for those roots.

Zeb is applying for jobs that could essentially take us all over the world after he graduates in December, and I'm really excited about the possibilities.

I mean, we could end up in tumbleweed alley in the middle of nowhere Texas, but then maybe we could find a cool hacienda-style home with a garden in the middle of it.

Or if we ended up in D.C., maybe we could find a little colonial, cottage-style home in nearby Virginia.

Or if we land in Oregon, we could live in a hippie commune.

The possibilities are ENDLESS! (Just kidding about the hippie commune. Zeb wouldn't go for that.)

I can't wait to see new things. To meet new people. To teach Finn about the surrounding regional culture. It's gonna be fun!

As a single chick, I would've been excited but more than a little nervous and unsure. But as a wife and mother, I'm just excited about whatever comes our way as a little family.

Ready for some different soil.

*All this said, I don't know what I'll do without our families around... 

Gratitude

For a couple of weeks, I've been trying to start my mornings by thinking of everything that I am grateful for. I've found that, in doing so, my brain is starting to become trained to notice small things and to not dwell so much on the things I'd like to have.

Of course, at the top of my list are Zeb and Finn. But here are a few of the things about them for which I am particularly grateful.

Zeb:
-- is incredibly humble and only talks about himself or his accomplishments when I ask about them. Which I ask about every day. (He secretly loves it.)
-- shares domestic duties with me. Cooks supper, takes care of Finn, washes his own laundry. It's clearly a miracle I found this guy.
-- has a strong desire to take care of his family.
-- is the very definition of strength to me.
-- likes to learn and share what he's learning.

Finn:
-- doesn't cry unless he's fighting sleep or if he's starving.
-- sleeps through the night and usually likes to cuddle in the mornings.
-- is a smiley, happy, content baby.
-- is an active little wiggle worm. That's what boys are supposed to be!


On top of that, I am extremely grateful:
-- that Zeb and my families have similar value systems. We were raised in families that teach respect and responsibility.
-- for the ENORMOUS amount of support that both sides of our family give us.
-- for a full pantry. Because of an anonymous gift of two bags full of groceries, our pantry is fuller than it's been in... quite a while.
-- for a home, and more specifically, our home.
-- that I really, honestly enjoy hanging out with Zeb's family.
-- for a job that I like! And that let's me be there to witness Finn's firsts.
-- for the opportunity to display some of my artwork. (After this Wednesday, you can see some of my photos hanging at Purple Corkscrew Wine Room in Emory Village!)
-- for wildflowers in my backyard and in my kitchen windowsill.
-- for ceiling fans.
-- for the smell of a clean house. Not that I know what that smells like right now exactly.
-- for the feeling after having beat my own time after a training walk/jog.
-- for cool nights after hot days.
-- for how unbelievably cool you can get in a pool in 90+ degree heat.

Five Months!

Our little buddy is five months old! Dang, time flies when you have a little one, because they change so quickly at this age. Only knowing this little guy for five months, though, seems like so little. Feels like I've known him forever.

In the last month, Finn:

-- has gotten two little teeth on the bottom. (He's had them for almost a month now.)

-- can almost sit up unsupported. But his toes... look... so... tasty that he usually topples over while trying to eat them.

-- is starting to scoot backwards. Won't be long and this dude's gonna be crawling. (Lord, help us.)

-- is an active little howler monkey. He climbs and squeals and laughs. He's non-stop, I tell ya. Non-stop.

-- is eating stuff like baby cereal, some of the first vegetable baby foods, and bananas. That boy loves bananas.

-- LOVES Baby Einstein videos. (Such a lifesaver when I need 20 minutes to cook dinner/take a shower/sweep the floor, etc.)

-- reaches for people when he wants them to pick him up.

-- grabs for cell phones, remote controls, computers, you name it. Might have a techie on our hands.


Yesterday was a good, lazy, rainy Sunday in our household. Zeb made blueberry waffles and my brother Tyler came over for breakfast. After he left, we all had an afternoon snooze. Finn and I woke up at about the same time, and he was my little snuggle bunny on the couch while we watched a documentary on Italy.


*I didn't realize what a little redhead we have until I saw these pictures! 
** Five month Onesie made by Margaret Quiggle Grantham.