Fair Warning

I began in Germany in 1988.

Because of this, it would appear that I cannot donate blood. You know, in the off chance that I contracted Mad Cow disease as an infant.*

This is a tragedy, since I believe strongly in blood donation. It saves lives.

We’re all about life around here, most specifically the honoring, caring for, and keeping of life.**

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Jane the Austen, homeschooling with power tools.

Husband and I are the fortunate caretakers of five lovely offspring:

Jane the Austin, born in the Mountain West, is a violinist, avid knitter, and prolific reader. She  aspires to be a violinist-astronaut-Mom, and return to her ancestral home of Northern Alaska to teach elementary school, not unlike Miss Agnes.

Clive the Staples, born in the South, is also somewhat musical, but prefers playing chess and running around with swords to reading. He has a very deeply rooted sense of justice. He aspires to serve a mission and be a Dad.

Mr. the Rogers, also born in the South, loves swordfighting with Clive Staples, reading with Jane Austin, warring (and occasionally peace-ing, or conspiring) with Katherine the Great, and eating pickled herring.  He aspires to be a firefighter.

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Clive the Staples. And Easter eggs.

Katherine the Great, born in the Pacific Northwest, sings better than the rest of the tribe, but does little in the way of speaking. She manages to get her points across anyway. She is affectionately referred to by her older siblings as the Miniature Dictator. She aspires to eat all the cheese.***

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Mr. the Rogers, photo cred: child. Most of the photos on this blog will probably be from the offspring.

 

 

Lucy the Maude (or, The Nursling), is our first New England born child. She loves to nurse, sleep, poop, and make faces and grunting noises that delight the rest of us. She is growing accustomed to our antics. She aspires to live in my arms all her waking and sleeping hours, but fortunately will also tolerate Husband, Jane Austin, and Clive Staples when nature calls.****

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Katherine the Great, in her natural habitat (read: chaos). She may or may not have something to do with my comforting of Clive Staples.

Besides our adventures with offspring, we’ve also fostered cats (for days on end), and neighborhood children (for days to years on end, depending on the child.).

At the commencement of this blog, we find ourselves in the urban wilds of New England, where we have adventures in cultural exchange with immigrant and refugee friends, play music with music friends, attend church with church friends, do fancypants stuff with university friends, and haunt the auspicious halls of Fancypants University***** (where Husband aspires to become a physicist).

We educate the offspring at home, which means despite having siblings, church friends, international friends, music friends, fancypants university friends, and neighborhood friends, my children’s social and emotional development is highly suspect, and must come under the most austere scrutiny and judgement you can muster.******

We generally cause mayhem by virtue of our fecundity and appalling lack of skinny jeans. We are not the millennials you read about in the Washington Post, despite husband’s HAWT black rimmed glasses and my sordid history of growing organic kale.

I aspire to write things, from grocery lists to blogs to novels.

Consider yourself warned.

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Husband and Offspring feed me in bed on occasion, most especially around Mother’s Day and my birthday. And yesterday. They’re good and kind and wise like that. They also make excellent greeting cards.

 

 

 

*Just ask my children when we’re on a bad day. The jury is definitely out on this one.

**Intentional and unintentional. I’m looking at you, moldy leftovers.

***This is actually characteristic of all the offpspring, but most especially so for K the G.

**** There may be bathroom humor in this blog. I am going to blame it all on Clive Staples’ influence, and/or the approximate 12,000+ diapers Husband and I have changed in the last decade.

*****FU for short. Is that too much? Maybe it’s too much.

******Because, you know, it’s IMPOSSIBLE to become a well balanced human being unless you spend the first 12 years of life raising your hand to ask permission to pee and voting for which of your peers most deserves to wear a crown and be applauded for…crown wearing. However, I digress.

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One thought on “Fair Warning”

  1. Lol…..I can’t donate blood either for the exact same reason! I have the same giving of life desires as yours, but have no regrets.

    Like

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