Hermie Watch: Waiting for wings

As we're waiting for Hermie to grow its wings, we've taken the opportunity this week to learn about butterflies and caterpillars.


The first fun fact, we looked up caterpillars and learned that the excrement has a fancy name - frass. That will impress the science teachers.


Actually, we're excited to find out that, based on Hermie's coloring, it is likely a Monarch. And we're about 10 days away from seeing him in full glory. While we waited, we decorated a page and imagined what Hermie will look like as a butterfly.

We also looked up videos about the chrylasis process, which is actually pretty cool. Here's a video we liked:









It's hard to contain her excitement, but it's been an interesting week!

Not dead yet: Our adventures with Hermie

Sunday, we officially became a family of five. Congratulations are in order.

You see, my oldest became the owner of her first "pet." While gardening, we stumbled on a green, striped caterpillar, and we brought it indoors. My daughter filled the container with leaves for the caterpillar to feast. She christened it "Lilly."

By morning, "Lilly" had become "Hermie," named after the Hermie the Wormie books. And whereas the evening before she couldn't keep her hands off Hermie, she suddenly was concerned Hermie was going to bite her. Hardly. Though the thing was eating (and digesting) its heart out.

Hermie made the travels to daycare, where it entertained a dozen children. Somehow it survived that and the drive home, despite me accidentally turning the thing on its side in transit.

This morning, Hermie wasn't going anywhere, and the kids were worried.

"He's dead!!" they screamed.

I assured him Hermie was only sleeping, cleaning out the container, gently moving the caterpillar out of the way. But I wasn't sure.

This afternoon, we had our answer.

Turns out, Hermie's going through the change, and a chrysalis is forming. It will be a fascinating experience for the kids to watch Hermie evolve!

Sometimes, there are more important things

Sometimes, there are more important things than blogging. There, I said it.

Yes, I love to write. And sometimes, it falls behind. This is one of those months. I'll be honest. It's been a toughie.

In the last few weeks, we've dealt with a loved one with a cancer scare and a friend of my husband's family who committed suicide - both tough to deal with, tougher at times when you're miles from home and can't do a darn thing but pray.

In the last few weeks, work has gotten more intense - a pattern I see continuing through at least April of next year, if I'm still standing that long.

In the last few weeks, we've dealt with work being put off due to a knee injuries, coupled with co-pays and daily daycare without the income set off. Not to mention the pain my husband dealt with on a daily basis.

In the last few weeks, we've had even more financial crises (as if we hadn't had enough) - trying to prove to the state that our children were ours on our taxes (I'd be happy to send a diaper as additional proof!), the loss of our financial aid due for this school year due to a community college error ("Sorry" doesn't cut it) and now the ominous "check engine" light glowing on our car that has 178,000 miles on it (that just doesn't say cheap fix).

Throw in a few tantrums or 12 (mine included), daily battles over bedtime and many sleepless nights (for what I wish were good reasons), and my creativity just isn't flaring.

So yes, sometimes there are more important things than blogging. Like hugging your children and reading a story. Or resting your head on your husband's shoulder the one night he's not in too much pain to cuddle. Or just remembering why you're a family.

So today, this is your chance. Pick up your phone. Call someone you care about. Remind them that you do. It's far better than reading a stranger's words on a screen.

Dressed for success for $1.45

Can you spend too little? It's tough to tell. And given the consumer-driven culture and the back-to-school blitz, you almost feel like your child should be in a brand-new outfit for weeks.

Today at the Green Phone Booth, I wonder what's wrong with me for paying $1.45 to dress my kid for school. Yes, I may simply need more things to worry about in life...

Why I love my farmers market

What'd you do this weekend? I'll be asked. And I'll tell them the truth, we went to the farmers market.

Sometimes I'm met with an raised eyebrow, others and eye roll. But here's the truth. For our family, it's the place to be on a summer Saturday morning.

While we might go to a different one every now and then, we always return to our trusty market. And here's why.

The people.

No, not the food. We can get tomatoes or cucumbers or herbs just about anywhere. And to be honest, this little market pales in comparison to the variety at other locales.

But it's about people.

Our vendors have watched our children grow from infants to savvy shoppers, picking out their own plants and produce on occasion.

My daughter has her favorites, too. First we catch up with the Pepper Guy, discussing how our tomatoes are growing, commenting on the garlic, him offering her a head or two to plant this fall or vastly miscounting the number of peppers he's throwing in our bag.

Then we wander to another booth, where the owner comments that she doesn't see us at her farm stand as much this year (a change in open dates, combined with an overly aggressive planting at home and a change in evening schedules, sealed the deal).

Then to the mom and her kids, who each sell their organic produce in the shade. (Even the children are in the act this year, growing their own.)

See, we could shop just about anywhere. But it's about the people we see each week that make the difference.

This is my contribution for the July APLS Carnival topic on farmers markets. Join us for a wrap-up on July 18!