an adventure, a miracle, and a grecian urn

We went adventuring while Devo was in Seattle this week. Off to the museum, I love small museums.

It has a large bird egg collection, perfect for our current study of birds. I loved hearing all the new vocabulary and observations the girls are making after a few weeks studying animals.

The children were adorned in their new hooded vests from Great-Grandma Ruby. Levi’s, especially, was a head turner.

We even had a picnic in the sunshine. PBJ!

Kiri had her first taste of food this week…organic carrots, steamed and pureed by her Mommy. She was very very silent at the first taste.

I want to mark this ‘first food’ with a moment to acknowledge a miracle. Look at her, darling girl, six months old. Up until now, my body has been solely responsible for creating, forming, growing, sustaining this small person.

So often we marvel at the perfection in miniature of a newborn baby. But for a woman’s body to be able to take nothing and create this. I honor my body for its miraculous, amazing, can’t-wrap-my-mind-around-it, wondrous feat.

I’m incredulous and thankful.

So we watched The Music Man last week. The children took two things away from the movie.
1. “Egads!” (I quickly nixed that one, while laughing in my sleeve).
2. “A Grecian Urn.” With pose. (Do they know what an urn is? Or a Grecian urn? Of course, anything Grecian is of utmost fascination at the moment.)