If there’s a baby in the vicinity, my dad will find it. Him luvs babies. I’m thinking he’s pretty much ready for the second Lawton grandchild to be born.

This shot was taken at Kristin’s baby shower and the baby pictured is not hers, rather the sweet chubby munchkin baby belongs to her good friend Daya. Kris and Adam’s baby girl already has lots of female playmates built in. I know Livia is already planning on rubbing her cousin’s head (it borders on obsession, her desire to rub babies’ heads) and giving “big hugs” to her when she arrives.

Thank heaven for little girls.

Though I was a bit hesitant to get started, canning was all I could think about late last week as a huge load of tomatoes began the process of decaying on my kitchen counter. I borrowed a large canner with a rack from a friend, purchased a jar lifter and wide-mouthed funnel from a hardware store of all places (thanks, TG!), had two girlfriends and my mom on call, waited for Punkin Baby to take a nap, and then jumped right in. I used one Mrs. Wages salsa seasoning packet and, voila, now I am the proud owner of five pints of homemade salsa.

At the time the steam clouds disappeared from the room, however, I wasn’t so proud of my handiwork. ALL that labor and effort, all that tomato juice that splurched uncontrollably over my countertops, all the boiling of jars and lids and salsa — and only five glass jars to show for it? But then, something greatly encouraging happened: Renae oooohed and aaaahed over my jars, calling them “beautiful” and other such complimentary words. Her sweet cheering lifted my soul and made me proud of what I had accomplished for the first time.

Go ooh and aah over someone’s five pints today. I’m sure there’s a tired canner near you who needs a cheerleader.

I’m looking for a pressure cooker/canning system or even just the equipment required for canning with a simple water bath. Anyone have one they’d like to sell? Leave a comment or email me directly. Thanks!

This, THIS!, is the part of parenting that I adore. Whereas I’m completely obsessed with appearances when it comes to public tantrums and fits, I’m the kind of mom who thinks a huge noggin covered by teeny green glasses is hilarious. Last Thursday Liv wore a pair of yellow ones (perhaps belonging to Mrs. Potato Head) into HyVee. This girls cracks me up.

* Friday night saw the addition of the newest Tredway to our household. (In order to do this properly, I’ll add photos later.) I would like to introduce the world to: Betta “Goldfish” Tredway. He’s blue, has fins, and lives in a water-filled glass bowl. What’s not to love? Thanks to Grandma and Grandpa, Livia’s passion is now a reality.

* By Saturday morning the main floor of my house was sparkly clean and filled with a bevy of lovely women, and a few good men, celebrating the impending arrival of Baby Girl Lawton. Kristin’s belly is growing delightfully and we’re all eagerly awaiting the day we get to hold this child in our arms. I can’t quite find the words to express how thrilled I am to become an aunt for the first time… Suffice to say I feel duty-bound to purchase every cute pink item I see for sale. Isn’t that what an aunt’s supposed to do?

* After a busy weekend (which also contained Miami Vice and a great martini bridal shower, separately of course), Sunday worship at Zion was food for my hungry soul. For the first time in a long while, we attended the late service and I found the music to be incredibly worshipful. What I both like and dislike about the late service is that it’s very well-attended. The sheer mass of voices made chorus and hymn singing feel like we were blowing the roof off with praises to the Eternal King — it filled my heart with joy at a time where I felt somewhat lacking in the joy category. I want to throw out a big bloggy thank you to Karen Choi who continuously labors to lead and make music at Zion. Thanks, Karen. You do a wonderful job week in, week out, and we all appreciate you.

* Finally, sweetly, delightfully, a Sunday evening walk through the neighborhood. Anyone else LOVING the lightweight August temps we’re experiencing in Lincoln? A little downtime with Jeremy, Livia and a few pb&j’s wrapped up the weekend in a very peaceful kind of way.

John Rosemond’s parenting column in the Lincoln Journal Star:

One does not have to teach antisocial beahvior to toddlers. They are by nature violent, deceitful, destructive, rebellious and prone to sociopathic rages if they do not get their way. Example: A 2-year-old who has never experienced, witnessed, or even heard described an act of violence will slap his mother across the face or bite her most accessible body part if she dares deny him a cookie and then ventures too close to his tantrum. Toddlers are convinced that the rules do not apply to them, that they are under no obligation to obey legitimate authority, that in fact is is they who are to be obeyed. It is surely a measure of either God’s mercy or the purposefulness of evolution that unlike other mammals, human beings to do not grow to full size in one or two years.

Socializing the toddler is the Single Biggest Challenge of Parenthood.

Hallelujah! Someone understands my life!!! Thank you, Mr. Rosemond, for a healthy dose of empathy and encouragement during the exact moment I need it most.

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She Got Up Off the Couch, by Haven Kimmel

The couch in the den was the color the crayon people called Flesh even thought it resembled no human or animal flesh on Planet Earth, and the couch fabric was nubbled in a pattern of diamonds. It was best to prevent the nubbles from coming into direct contact with one’s real Flesh, so there was usually a blanket or a towel or clothing spread out as a buffer. Also no one wanted to pick up the blanket, the towel, and the clothing and fold them. Or even pick them up. So it was a fine arrangement.

This book is Kimmel’s follow-up to her earlier memoir A Girl Named Zippy. The author is hilariously detailed in recording her childhood memories and I’ve enjoyed this set of memories as much as the last. I’m not yet halfway through the book, so I’ve got more to go, but one story in particular about her father’s encounter with a nest of rats had me laughing out loud. Good stuff.

Every mom knows she should worry when it gets quiet in the house. After a few minutes of dead quiet, I rounded the kitchen corner to find my daughter. And there she was, lips painted ever so slightly with Burt’s Bees Nutmeg Lip Shimmer. Her left hand clutched the exposed tube of chapstick, her right hand held the cap, and between her sparkling white baby teeth was chunk of Nutmeg. Niiiiice. After last night’s hairbrush-caught-in-her-teeth fiasco (truly priceless, yet unphotographed), I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap a shot for the blog.

Grrr… I’m trying to figure out how to place my Flickr pics onto my blog in the right size. Anyone have a suggestion for me? Help!

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Keith, thanks for the help!

I’m new at this Flickr thing and, as my husband well knows, I tend to be slow to change. I was reluctant to start blogging and I’m still dragging my feet with Flickr. I like the idea of Flickr but it kind of freaks me out a bit, too. I feel much more in control of my photographs here on the Prairie Box (what is there to control? you might wonder, rightly so). I’m not too fond of the idea of random and unknown bloggers posting my pictures, but then again, I’ve never been much of a group project person when it comes to creative assignments. Also, I admit I’m totally intimidated when it comes to the a-ma-zing photography on Flickr. Instead of propelling me to go and do likewise, I feel like giving up this hobby because so many people are so much better at it than I am. Silly, but true. Anyhow, Renae’s been after me for a long time to get aboard the Flickr train. So here I am… With a Pro Account on my birthday/Christmas wishlist.