Big Feet, Little Feet

Big Feet

• Yesterday evening, after a particularly full, event to next event-to next event-to next event etc. few days, my husband and I collapsed on our couch. He stretched out on one end, propping his feet upon me as I sat on the couch’s opposite end. Tiredness had befallen us quickly. I absentmindedly began kneading my fatigued spouse’s feet as we chatted. Perhaps it was because I was quite so drowsy, but my mind began to wander as I studied my husband’s feet. 
• As I scrutinized, I began to consider them. I had never noticed their shape, really. It was like I was looking at the feet of someone with whom I was newly acquainted. For some reason, looking at his feet made me realize I have much yet to learn of my husband. 2+ years of marriage (prayerfully many more to come) and I don’t yet know my husband’s feet. His hands, yes. Their strength and masculinity I noticed the first weekend we met. I wonder what new things of him and his life I have yet to discover.
• He asked–smiling at me in the way only he does–what I was doing, perusing so diligently his lowermost extremities. I simply told him what was swimming through my head. He laughed a little, continuing that me-only smile, and continued his rest. 

Little Feet

• The 6 y.o. has a friend who’ll be with us all this week. We had decided last week we’d have a day to paint nails soon. After playing imaginatively upstairs for a bit, with hot pink and sparkly purple shellac in hand, they bounded downstairs and shyly asked me to paint their nails. The glee appeared on their faces when I agreed.
• As I played mani-pedicurist for the last half hour, they mused back and forth about whether or not I should paint a heart on their big toes, or maybe purple polka dots on top of the pink base, or stripes! When they beheld the lovely sheen of the fuchsia’s second coat, they decided to leave their toes plain.
• As for their hands, something must have compelled them to branch out a bit…

No Settler of Disputes

This nanny would like to state for the record that she does not consider dogs to be legitimate witnesses in settling disputes between 6 and 8 year olds.

Especially not this dog. Pepper is loyal. Pepper is loving. Pepper will give you the saddest puppy dog eyes, laying with her head on the ground beneath her paws, looking up at you with her round, brown globes. Sweet as she is, this makes her no settler of disputes. She just wants a cheeto.

Scene: Children and dog running about, zigging into the kitchen, zagging around the Apple computer, singing a song from “Tangled,” but inserting the dog’s name into the lyrics in random places.  Vibrato sounds from the 8 y.o. The 6 y.o. echoes back.  They stop singing momentarily to discuss which person and canine is playing which “Tangled” character. Their tones, serious, quickly turn to brother-sister bicker-banter. I listen in to see if nanny restitution is necessary when I hear…

6: No you should be Flynn Rider! Or maybe Pepper could be…

…More hushed bicker-banter. Volume increases. Intonation rises and falls…

8: But PEPPER heard me! She understands, she can back me up!

I had to step in to calm the waters at this point. The jury is still out on Pepper’s testimony.

Back to Blogging

I took a break from my “online life” until at least the end of finals, and now I’m returning to my little corner of the www, albeit a little timidly.  I actually enjoyed being disconnected much more than expected, and I almost don’t want to come back.  There was something simpler about not worrying about having to keep up with it all.  It seems that if you have a blog (or Twitter/Facebook account/etc.) there’s this pull to always constantly be communicating through them, and tendency toward guilt if you aren’t. I read this very interesting article recently about the amount of information that is created on the internet every day.  This statement was particular shocking:

After weeks of survey research, it turns out—the bounty and abundance of web data is out of control. As Google’s Eric Schmidt has been quoted, from the beginning of time to 2003, we created 5 Exabytes of data. We’re now creating that every two days—and it’s accelerating. 

Wow.  Isn’t that just staggering?   “From the beginning of time…”

This is the first break from blogging I’ve taken that I’ve actually enoyed and not felt that guilt of being away. Though a tinge of it hit on May 26, when I realized my predetermined month break was “up.”  Hmm.  I’m thinking a lot about my technology usage, how much time I give to it.  This “information age,” this Facebook/Twitter nation we’ve become leaves me often a bit overwhelmed.  Not that technology is evil.  I regularly enjoy it.  But I feel convicted to be thoughtful about my usage of it, and what amount of my life to give it.  As any of you fellow bloggers (or 21st century humans) know, the internet has a tendency to suck you into a black hole.  It’s kind of like when you’re driving somewhere that is so familiar, that by the time you get there you wonder, “how did I arrive here?” not even really remembering your journey.

Anyways.

In other news:

• School’s out for summah! *Insert huge sigh of relief here.*  It is so nice to have a break, yet at the same time quite odd to have the freedom lack of school work brings.  2 years to go…
• The kids I nanny and I have made up a game which I will certainly have to tell more about in the future.  It’s very hilarious.  It’s called “Rock, Paper, Scissor, Everything.”  After getting tired of playing regular “Rock, Paper, Scissor” we just insert whatever comes to mind at the end. We’ve been playing daily, and some of the things they come up with are just amazing. (i.e. “avocado,” “the earth’s core,” “pillow fringe,” “the moon,” “superman,” “a flip-flop made out of smarties.”)
• During my time offline, a family of birds decided to make its home in the upper left corner of our apartment balcony, right outside our bedroom window I might add.  This means several things: 1. I don’t go out there anymore, 2. our little balcony porch, railing, and walls are covered in bird poop, 3. my husband coming to my rescue–while not wanting to injure the creatures–bought a water spray bottle and has been spraying them to try and get them to leave.  They’ve quieted down, but alas.  Still there.
• I’ve been saving for a new DSLR camera, and I’m almost there.  Once I purchase it and take some new photos, perhaps that will provide some inspiration for blog posts this summer.
• This is the cake I was able to redeem. When a recipe says “use highest quality cocoa powder,” just buckle down and do it, people.

Mmm.  This cake very well could be begging me to make it a third time.

What They’re Made Of

Snips,

Snails,

And puppy dog tails.

That’s what little boys are made of.

“Don’t Smile…”

Sometimes when photographing kids, I’m finding that asking them not to smile makes for better, more natural photos. 

My mother has shoeboxes full of photos, picturing my middle brother with a cheesy line of a smile on his face, bearing baby teeth. The 6 y.o. I nanny pictured here tends the same way. So I asked her to look away from the camera and stop smiling.

I started asking her about things she finds funny, what makes her laugh. She couldn’t think of anything at first. So I, with camera pointed and focused, just said:

“Underwear!”

And I got this shot. (Please don’t tell her mom! What a nanny I am…)

I can’t remember what we talked about that got this grin to spread wide across her face. 

But it doesn’t really matter. This smile is worth a thousand bad nanny inducements.

Playing House

My husband is going overseas today. I am excited for him, yet have a considerable amount of wifely nervousness, which I imagine will only pass upon confirmation of his safe arrival. He’ll spend his first two days alone before his travel companions arrive (which will add another layer to my peace of mind). Since the kids I nanny have a teacher work day today, he has come along with me to their house, and we’ll all take him to the airport around lunchtime. This morning has been exciting already, as I think my husband is a new Nintendo Wii hero ‘round these parts, judging by the kid’s exclamatory merriment coming from the other room. 

Mario Kart with an adoring 8 year old seems like a good note to leave on. 

Off to walk the dog…