Our Haven on Earth

{this moment}

2011-02-18T06:46:00.001-07:00

{this moment}

hitting life's "pause" button

no chit-chat

just a single photo

a glimpse

our life, here and now

forever etched in my mind

and in my heart

...inspiration courtesy of Soule Mama

{cheated for the first time doing this week's moment, as one cannot properly represent "the twirl" with only one photo!}

Picking Up Where I Left Off...

2011-01-04T20:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, I realize I probably shouldn't have left my blog on indefinite "pause" after my last post (the one regarding the bear in our yard). I got a few emails from concerned readers wondering if the bear had carried me off to the depths of the forest. Yikes. Nothing that dramatic, thankfully!

The past 7 months have been filled with life's little (and not so little) hiccups. You know the ones. Setbacks, worries, and other bumps in the road. It became apparent that documenting our days in this space wasn't nearly as important as trying to navigate the last half year while still cultivating an overriding sense of peace for myself and my family. And while the waters are not exactly smooth, I felt that if I waited for life to be all roses before picking up the blogging habit again, I would be waiting forever. Because, really, that's life isn't it? The good with the bad. So, here I am! It feels exciting to be back here, ready to resume putting life in picture/word form.

Putting life's challenges aside for the time being, there really were many positive moments to celebrate since I last checked in here. One of which was my daughter turning 5 years old. Five! That seems like such a big leap into full-fledged childhood. Leaving any trace of toddlerhood in the dust.

The lucky birthday girl had an unintended 3 separate parties, and thus, 3 different birthday cakes. That's what happens sometimes when you live in the mountains and your summer birthday party gets cancelled due to snow. In late June, no less!! This cake helped cushion the blow of the first cancelled party:

A Ladyfinger Lemon White Chocolate Mousse! Oh yes. The day after her birthday, she asked me, "Do we have any of that deer cake left?" Deer cake?? After a few conversational volleys back and forth, I finally realized that she was thinking "moose" rather than "mousse." And moose led to the word deer. And there you have it. Ladyfinger Lemon White Chocolate Deer Cake.

I've been anxiously awaiting the day I could bestow a very special gift upon my daughter: a wooden barn made for me on my 5th birthday, by my grandpa.

After he made it, he shipped it in pieces, all the way from New Jersey to my childhood home. He carefully labeled each piece and included a detailed diagram, all so my parents could re-assemble it easily in time for my birthday surprise. I love how the labeled pieces of masking tape are still attached to each piece (even each individual stall is numbered to its corresponding slot on the barn floor), these many years later. With my grandpa's, albeit indirect, guiding hand, I put the barn together in less than 10 minutes.

I added all of my childhood play horses as well. The look on her face was worth the years I waited to have a child to whom I could pass along this heirloom toy.

Speaking of heirlooms, I also gave her the rocking chair which belonged to my sister and me, oh so many years ago. It's the kind with the music box attached to the rocker arm, which plays as you rock. My sweet girl was thrilled, and happily rocked the day away:

It was a grand day all around. A perfect reminder of the pleasure that is being a five year old little girl!

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!

2010-06-20T21:21:00.002-06:00

Okay, so maybe we don't have any tigers, but we have the lions (mountain-variety) and now the bears. We knew it was inevitable. I saw some bears playing all over the rock face on the mountain in front of our house. Locals told us we'd see them -- up close and personal. But, I was still surprised and a little speechless when I saw this bear stroll right by the kitchen window while I was clearing the dishes from the table.

{Sorry about the blurry photo above, but having a steady hand is a bit difficult when you are face-to-face with a bear. At least this was my defense to my husband's criticism regarding the out-of-focus shot. Plus, I was holding my 2 year old son in the other arm. My dear husband countered that I was inside the house, and therefore, safe. Thus, his expectation for a National Geographic-quality photo. I told him that I would be more than happy to place all future wildlife photo ops in his capable (and steady) hands.}

He (?) made a beeline to the suet cage that hangs in one of our trees for the birds. After scoping out the situation for a second or two, he climbed that little aspen tree and snagged his snack.

Oh, that poor aspen! I thought the whole tree was going to give way with the weight of that massive bear. And the claw marks that he left behind on the trunk -- amazing.

In the end, he left the unopened suet cage full of the suet cake. I guess he wasn't hungry enough to fiddle around with it. He promptly gave up and moseyed his way into the trees just beyond our driveway. I was outside in a flash, taking down our hummingbird feeder and closing the garage (where we have a nearly full trash can). Perhaps this Papa Bear was on the hunt for his own Father's Day treat? Unfortunately, he went away empty-handed (empty-pawed?). Hopefully Mama and Baby Bear had some porridge waiting for him back at the den. Where I hope he will stay. Is it hibernation time yet??

A New Bedtime Ritual is Born

2010-06-15T21:56:00.002-06:00

So, my little girl has been sleeping in her own bedroom for 10 days now. Ten very long, lonely days. For me, anyway. She is loving her new found independence and privacy. I guess I underestimated her need to have a space of her very own, apart from her parents and her (often extremely loud and tantrum-prone) baby brother. On an almost daily basis, she'll wrap her arms around me and say, "I am still just loving my own room so, so much!"

I, on the other hand, have been sleeping with one eye and one ear open for the last 10 days. The first night (okay, and maybe a few additional nights since then), I sat in the hallway outside her bedroom door and just listened to her breathing. One would presume that I have a difficult time letting go. One could not be more right. That sweet little girl has been sleeping right next to me or within arm's reach for five years. {Unless you count the many months I was pregnant with her, then it's almost six years}

But because I thought she might have some anxiety about sleeping alone in her big girl room, I made up a little jar of Angel Cream. I jotted down the idea many years ago, before I had children of my own. I'm just guessing, but I vaguely recall getting the idea for it from the website A Magical Childhood. A website, I must add, that has so many good ideas and links it will make your head spin.

The idea is to take some sweet-smelling lotion and add some glitter to it (the original instructions called for sparkly eye shadow, but since it's not 1984 and I don't own sparkly eye shadow in a bright color, I went with extra-fine glitter). Then add a label with a little poem to recite every night at bedtime:

Night is here, and it's time for bed,

But before you lay down your sleepy head,

On the back of your hand, rub some Angel Cream,

So the angels will watch over you as you dream.

My daughter is thoroughly delighted with this new little ritual. We haven't skipped a single night's application. After we read stories and say our prayers, I take the jar from her nightstand drawer (must hide these kind of things from her rascal brother), and she dips her finger into it. While I recite the poem, she applies the magical cream. The whole thing takes less than a minute, but the impact has been huge. It's just an extra measure to ensure secure, happy feelings going into the nighttime hours. Not that she needs it, as I've said, she's made it clear she was ready for this kind of transition into big girlhood. Hmmm...maybe I'm the one who should be applying some Angel Cream. ;)

This post is part of Steady Mom's 30-Minute Blog Challenge. Go check out some of the other quick reads!

You At Two...

2010-06-06T22:55:00.000-06:00

Happy 2nd Birthday to my sweet love! My little boy is now fully entrenched in the toddler years. Although I'm quite certain we stepped foot into the challenging toddler years about a year ago! So much has transpired in what is, really, such a short period of time in the grand scheme of life. But, for our relationship as mama and son, it has been two years of growing, testing, understanding, learning, coping, and becoming more wrapped up in absolute love for one another.

Here are a few thoughts I have regarding you, living life at two, that I never want to forget:

*Your whole being is encased in a soft, sensitive, compassionate envelope. I'm not sure if this is a trait that has been nurtured by spending so many hours in the company of your big sister (and best friend), or if this boundless kindheartedness is inborn. Regardless, here are a few ways this admirable quality plays out in our everyday life:

-When we are reading a book and the character is having

a rough day or is sad about something, you ask me to stop reading mid-story so you can kiss and hug the character on the page. It is a daily occurrence around our house to see you clasping an open book against your chest, eyes closed, and patting it gently. Only after you have given it some love, can we continue with our story.

-When your sister does something less than kind to you (and, thankfully, this is rare and usually extremely mild, like giving you a light shove or taking a toy from you), and I reprimand her, she usually ends up crying. {And it's not that I'm yelling or being harsh, she's just extremely sensitive to criticism or having her behavior corrected} Anyway, even though you are the one who has been wronged in some way, you always stop crying and begin to comfort your sister because now she's the one crying. I've actually witnessed blood dripping from your lip (after your dear sister pushed you flat onto your face), while you take the time to pat your sister's arm and stroke her face in order to cheer her (the instigator in the event) up. You never hold a grudge. You give love no matter what, even if the situation would dictate otherwise.

-If you hear (or even sense) that someone wants something, you go to any length to get it for them. Often when coloring, your sister will say, "I wish I had a black crayon to color with." You, holding the black crayon, immediately stop drawing and hand it over to her gladly.

The other day, I was standing in the living room, and I said under my breath, "Now what did I do with that measuring tape??" You were sitting half a room away, playing with your cars and trucks. I noticed you get up and walk past me. You went downstairs. I could hear you rummaging through the craft room/playroom, talking to yourself. A couple of minutes later, you appeared at my side, holding the measuring tape in your chubby little hand. My smile was the only reward you needed. You LOVE being helpful. And you have an incredible memory. How you could remember that you had seen the measuring tape in that crowded, overstuffed craft room/playroom is a mystery to me.

- When we are out on the swing set, every time I give your swing a push, you immediately say, "Sistah, too! Sistah! Push sistah!" (sistah means "sister"). Meaning, you want me to give your sister a push too. You can't stand the thought of your sister being left out of anything, so concerned you are for her welfare and happiness!

-Three days ago, when I was couch-ridden with a terrible cold, you squeezed yourself onto the couch next to me and stayed there for the next three hours while I rested. You only got up a couple of times to get a new toy to hold. This speaks volumes, as normally you never. stop. moving. Ever. Never.

-In the middle of the horse quilt that Grandma made for me, there is a quilt square with a puppy dog. Since you have a soft spot for puppies, you lean over and kiss the puppy's face. Every day. Several times per day. I have pictures of you laying on your tummy, your nose pressed up against the quilt on our bed.

*Speaking of hugging and kissing, when you give anyone a kiss, you use your nose. Ever so gently, you lean in and touch the other person (of stuffed animal or book) with the tip of your nose. It's precious.

*When one of your toys is asleep, you go around the house tapping your nose with your index finger, saying, "Shhh...shhh....Seep-een." Seep-een meaning "sleeping" in this scenario. Instead of bringing your index finger to your lips as most people do when they want someone to hush, you tap the end of your nose 5 or 6 times. I'm not sure why. You seem to like using your nose for what the average person relies on their lips. You're quirky and cute. It's one of the many reasons I love you.

*Your voice is so varied. Sometimes it's high and chipmunk-y. But usually it's deep and husky. Almost raspy, like you have a cold, even though you don't. Your Daddy and I mimic your voice a lot when we talk to each other because it makes us giggle.

*You wave backward: with your palm facing your face, rather than your palm facing outward from your body.

*Saying sorry (pronounced "Saw-eee") comes very easily for you. You say it over and over again whenever you make more work for me (as in spilling your milk or tipping over your bowl of food). Let's hope you're still able to admit it so readily when you are a grown man! ;)

*You are sly and sneaky and clever. Very often, we should be annoyed or frustrated by your relentless efforts to defy us, but I find myself frequently amused by your resourcefulness and persistence. Especially when I see that sparkle in your blue eyes and that dimpled smirk spread across your face.

*You love to get my attention when it's clear I am trying to concentrate on a given task. When I am leaning over you, trimming your tiny nails, trying to concentrate on not clipping your skin in the process, you lean your head way down next to mine, and nose your face right in front of my line of vision. Instead of having a clear view of your fingernail, I see your goofy smile about 1/4" from my face. It never fails to send me into gales of laughter.

*And speaking of laughter, we joke that you are our little comedian. You love to get the laughs from your adoring audience. I think this is more for our benefit than yours. I genuinely think that you just love making the people you love happy. At the tender age of two, you have already learned one of life's greatest secrets: tis better to give than receive.

Sweet boy, you have given us so very much in such a short period of time. Thank you! We love you more than you know.

Books to Share with Little Ones

2010-05-28T22:58:00.002-06:00

Here's my vision: after nursing her little brother and tucking him into his bed, my little girl and I tiptoe off to her new "big girl" room and cozy up in her bed to read stories. "Big kid" stories with true story lines and descriptive words and beautiful illustrations (but moving toward more words than illustrations). During the dark, winter months, maybe we'll read by candlelight. During the summer months, when it's still light outside when we're heading off to bed, we'll read by the rosy glow of the setting sun.

I've been searching high and low for some seriously sweet and light tales to read to my very sensitive and tender-hearted girl. Although she'll be turning five (I can't really believe that, but the math adds up to five!) in a few short weeks, she's really not at all ready for some of the more heavy drama and suspense that many reading lists have recommended for fives. Just a couple of examples: she sobbed profusely and made me turn it off when Peter Rabbit got caught under Mr. McGregor's fence in this DVD version of Beatrix Potter's lively tales. And, watching that evil cat Lucifer try to get those sweet Cinderella mice proved too much for her to bear. Of course, both of these examples cite movie versions of stories. And I think the combination of sight and sound on the TV screen makes the story come alive a little too much. I've observed that her tolerance level for such dramatic scenes increases when it plays out on the storybook page.

So, I stumbled upon a couple of books that are not yet chapter books, but have more words than the books we read during the day with her little brother joining us. She has the attention span for longer reads, but we're limited to reading shorter, simpler books so as to include her nearly two year old, I-must-stay-in-constant-motion sibling. These books contain a series of stories, or vignettes, if you will. And they involve animals (which are our favorite kind of characters).

The first is by Cynthia Rylant (we almost always have one or two of her books in our book bag on return trips from the library), called Thimbleberry Stories. I came across this book in the Chinaberry catalog. I mean, come on, do you see that squirrel in slippers, cleaning his thatched home? That doesn't look like a book that will scare my daughter, does it? Truth be told, only time will tell. I haven't given the book to her yet, and I haven't read it yet either. I prefer to read books for the first time with my children. That way, I'm just as excited to see the outcome of the story as they are, and I think that comes through when I'm reading.

The second book I chose is James Herriot's Treasury for Children, a collection of happenings in the life of a small-town veterinarian, set in the English countryside.

Amazing illustrations: warm, homey, inviting...

And I would be remiss if I didn't mention the Brambly Hedge series. I got her a set of these books for Christmas. We choose to read them during Rascal's nap, so we won't be interrupted. To be completely honest, the stories fell flat for me. I expected to love them. I wanted to love them. Every review I had read online loved them. Maybe they were built up too much in my mind. But, aside from Winter Story, the tales just seemed a bit stale. Regardless, I would read the Brambly Hedge every day just to gaze at the lovely, intricate illustrations. Pure beauty.

So, that is a very brief selection of books for the slightly older, little one. Looking at books for my son, who turns two in just over a week, I think this is going to be a winner:

Yes. I have two copies of this book. A couple of years ago, Oh, What a Busy Day was out of print. I went online and found prices for used copies of this book ranging from $30.00 to $700.00. Yes, I know. Unbelievable. But, countless reviews and blogs had cited this book as a staple in any child's reading collection. I was convinced that my daughter had to have this book (although, it takes very little to persuade me to buy any children's book). So, I splurged on the best used copy I could afford. I think it's a 1976 edition (it's the one on the left).

Then, naturally, someone got smart and decided to start reprinting the book in April of this year. For less than $10.00!!! Yes, I know. Unbelievable. It is exactly the same book that I convinced my husband that I had to buy, no matter what the cost, just a few years ago. Exactly the same.

Which is 99% a good thing. The reason I say this is because I was hoping the new edition would be without a particular two-page spread. There is a horrible (completely my opinion, but I hardly think I'm alone in thinking this is inappropriate in a children's book) story about two children going out into the woods and dying there. Complete with birds dropping feathers and leaves over the children to "bury" them. Yes, I know. Unbelievable. Why, oh why, put such a story in a book for children?? The first time I read the book to my daughter, I started reading that awful story and immediately sensed where it was going. I told my daughter that they were napping after their long journey to the woods, so they would have enough energy to walk back home in time for dinner.

I put the book back on our shelf and didn't touch it again for years. I contemplated re-selling the book. Since it was still out of print, I figured I could make a little money. But, the rest of the book is delightful, and I hated to get rid of a great book just because of one story in it. So, I considered just taking my x-acto knife and cutting the depressing little story out. But, as my husband pointed out, I could never re-sell the book if I removed any pages from it. So, it has been sitting on my bookshelf all this time. Not being read. Not being enjoyed. And now I have two of them. I decided to keep the 1976 version on the shelf, since it has more monetary value than the 2010 edition. Maybe one of the children can sell it years from now and buy themselves their first car. I am going to give the brand-new copy to my son (although I know my daughter will pore over the pages as well). My son is the energizer bunny, except instead of beating a drum, he wields a wrecking ball. Every day is a busy day when it comes to mothering him. So, the book seems an appropriate choice. Gorgeous, colorful, detailed illustrations give little eyes plenty to take in. It's a very whimsical, fun read. Well, minus those two pages, of course.

I also have my eye on the Big Alfie series. It looks like a charming collection centering on life for a young boy and his sister. We have so many books where the central character is a girl, I love the idea of a series of books where a little boy is highlighted. Especially a tender, thoughtful, creative, brotherly boy. So, I think I will trust the reviews I've read, and start collecting books in the Big Alfie series. If anyone out there has read Alfie, I'd love to hear what you thought. Or, if you have a particular favorite book for the little crowd, please do share. I'm always looking for new additions to our home library or to check out from the public library.

And that is making just a small dent in my bank of ideas on books for children. I love books, but especially picture books. I could discuss books all day. In fact, I have. I started this post early this morning and I'm just now finishing it at 11 pm. :) Good night!

Spoiling My Man

2010-05-27T21:57:00.001-06:00

We officially entered into our "busy season" last month. We have 12 celebrations of either holidays (like Easter and Memorial Day) and birthdays in our little family in the span of 8 weeks. That adds up to a lot of gathering and feasting (even when we double up on some of the birthday parties). But then we have a social "drought" from July through September, so we have adequate time to recover before autumn and the upcoming holiday season hits. My husband was the guest of honor a couple of days ago. My gifts to him included:

*Removing all unpacked boxes from the house, and then cleaning said house. {As for the boxes, I carried them down to the garage. I'm not sure why I thought having to stare at them sitting in my house for the last 4 months was going to make me empty them sooner. It didn't. Frankly, their presence just stressed me out. This way, I can (and will) take up one box per week from the garage and empty it (either by finding homes for the items or by donating them). The clutter stays out of our living space and I can tackle the boxes one at a time. If absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder, maybe that'll be the kick I need to get rid of the stuff once and for all.}

*Filling his collage picture frame that he keeps on his desk at work with updated photos of us all.

*Tucking, inside his lunch box, an impromptu drawing I made of him (which, if I had known he was going to hang it up next to his desk, I would have spent more time on it!)

*Hanging some artwork and other surprises that I had ordered, all by myself (not the ordering, although I did do that all by myself, but the hanging part -- I hate hanging things on the walls myself. I'm always fretting whether the nail is going to hold the object, or it's crooked, or not centered, etc.)

*Helped Roo decorate a plate with a drawing of herself holding hands with her Daddy.

*Made one of his favorite dinners: Cider-glazed pork chops, baked potato fries, applesauce (not from scratch, though. I looove homemade applesauce), lemon/hazelnut green beans. And for dessert: Chocolate Peanut Butter Trifle, which was, in a word, AMAZING. How can you go wrong with layering fudge brownies, pudding, whipped peanut butter, peanut butter cups, sweetened sour cream, and heavy whipped cream?

It was a day without bickering, complaining, lots of phone calls to Daddy at work to check and see how his birthday was going, homemade birthday cards, great wine (for me) and beer (for him) with dinner, the children going to sleep peacefully and without incident, and the two of us sitting on the front deck listening to the orchestra of birds die down as the moon and stars made their appearance. It was simply lovely. That night, just like a child who had just celebrated the perfect day, my husband wondered aloud, "Why can't every day be my birthday?"

Standing Tall

2010-05-24T08:52:00.000-06:00

Oh, how I love this old tree in our backyard. It's definitely seen better, stronger days. There are signs of rot. Various snowstorms and windstorms have taken their toll on this magnificent giant. But even yesterday, with 60-70 mile per hour winds, this tree didn't back down (which is more than I can say for some of the other trees around our house). It gently swayed and moved with the gusts, giving a creak now and then, but staying strong.

My husband wants to cut it down. He says it's only a matter of time before it gives way. And, unfortunately, if it did fall in a storm, there's no guaranteeing that it wouldn't fall in the direction of our home.

But I argued that it was still strong and hardy and would stand for a few years yet. {Of course, I wasn't at all sure if this was true, but I had to defend my tree!} Besides, I said, look at all of those holes in the trunk. Too many of our dear feathered friends call this tree Home.

Not to mention, we'd be depriving this little forest gnome of his little peek-a-boo spot. We can't have that, now can we?

So, for now, the tree stands. I convinced my husband to let it be, and leave its final demise in the capable hands of Mother Nature. So, rest assured, dear tree, you can go ahead and open those reluctant buds of yours. It's springtime and we're waiting to see your beauty unfurl.

{this moment}

2010-05-21T06:37:00.000-06:00

{this moment}

hitting life's "pause" button

no chit-chat

just a single photo

a glimpse

our life, here and now

forever etched in my mind

and in my heart

...inspiration courtesy of SouleMama

Cheap, Easy Thrills for the Under-Five Crowd:

2010-05-18T21:35:00.002-06:00

I have been wanting to steal some time away in the craft room for weeks now. But, truth be told, I really need to concentrate when I sew because I have a tendency to make a lot of mistakes if I am even slightly distracted by the general chaos of young children playing nearby. So, I've been forced to wait until after the littles are in bed before I can attack any sewing projects. But, then I'm entering my sleepy time too, and often don't have the energy or focus to sew.

The past few days, I've been able to make great strides in sewing curtains for my daughter's new bedroom. AND, I've been able to accomplish it during the day. While the children are wide awake. No one was more amazed than I. How did I do it? I came up with a few activities (no-mess, no-fuss activities -- as this is a crucial component to making this work) for them to occupy themselves while I sew.

Here are a few examples (just in case any moms out there are looking for easy entertainment for their little babes that doesn't involve plopping them in front of the TV):

By the way, the photo at the top of this post is my son "painting" the wood stove with water. You could just as easily give your kids a cardboard box or (if the weather is nice and your little me-time project is something you can do outside while they play, like reading, embroidery, knitting, etc.) have them "paint" the outside of the house/garage/driveway/sidewalk with a bucket of water and some brushes and big sponges.

A popular one around our house: popping bubble-wrap by jumping/dancing:

My daughter loves moving my sewing pins from one pin cushion to the other. Again. And again. This activity alone usually buys me about 20 uninterrupted minutes (And, no, that band-aid isn't from her sticking herself with a pin. :) This is a pretty safe activity for those over age 2):

Playing with buttons is a great tactile experience. It's even better if you provide tiny containers for them to put the buttons into, close them up, take them out:

My scrapbooking supplies have been sitting idle for ages. Might as well find some use for them (these are chipboard pieces, so they stand up to a lot of handling and abuse):

Just finding a way for them to play with their regular toys in a new way is a successful tactic. Here I tied some yarn to a wooden firetruck and a leash to a car. Now, what used to be strictly push-toys that required them to kneel and scooch their vehicles along, are now pull-toys that can be quickly pulled to follow them around the house. Believe it or not, this little idea kept them busy for over an hour. So, either I have children who are easily entertained, or this was a brilliant idea on my part. ;)

And, finally, our last entry for today's "Easy, Cheap Thrills for the Under-Five Crowd":

Sticky notes on a window. This photo shows them plain. To make this activity last longer, I usually encourage my kids to decorate each individual sticky (with pencil-- no markers or crayons when I'm not right there supervising. This rule applies only to my son, my daughter is responsible enough to use paints/markers without being directly supervised) before sticking them up on the window:

So, by incorporating a few fun and easy ideas into our day, I was able to finish sewing my daughter's curtains and paint the hallway (and I even had time to take these photos and upload them!). Good stuff. I love sneaking a little more productivity into my days.

This post was completed in 29 minutes (even with all of these photos!) as part of Steady Mom's 30 minute Blog Challenge.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary...

2010-05-15T20:55:00.004-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, determined to make a dent in the looming pile of (still!) unpacked boxes, I asked Roo to entertain herself while I went through the boxes and tried to find a new home for each unpacked item (all the while muttering to myself, "Why did I bother to pack THIS??").

Here's what she came up with (yeah, not at all sure why that picture loaded sideways):

She found a package of pipe cleaners in our art supply and the piece of Styrofoam came in the shipment of dishes that arrived last week. She created a "flower garden." Lovingly planting each one and watering them with her mini watering can, she declared it "a happy and very magical garden where the fairies come to play." And, seeing how we currently have 8 inches of snow on the ground in mid-May, I can safely declare that her pipe cleaner garden is the only garden she'll be watering for awhile.

She admired that garden and planted and re-planted the flowers for a couple of hours. During the midst of my unpacking, I heard Roo crying and using a harsh tone with her little brother. Coming upon the scene, I asked what was wrong. Through tears, and clutching a yellow pipe cleaner in her hand, Roo said, "That little boy planted a tulip in my garden of daisies!! Doesn't he know that this is a magical daisy garden, not a magical tulip garden??"

Trying my best to take her little brother's offense seriously, I suggested we scavenger another piece of Styrofoam for him to plant his own garden. That way he could mix tulips and daisies up together to his heart's content.

Here's Roo putting her flowers in the sunny window so that they can grow. {And, yes, she is wearing a fleece pullover underneath her dress. She insists on wearing a dress everyday, be it over her pajamas, her winter coat, or whatever she happens to be wearing that day. We get some odd looks from passersby, but we don't mind. :) }

{this moment}

2010-05-14T06:10:00.003-06:00

{this moment}

hitting life's "pause" button

no chit-chat

just a single photo

a glimpse

our life, here and now

forever etched in my mind

and in my heart

...inspiration courtesy of SouleMama

Mmmm...Start the day with a little sweetness:

2010-05-11T21:29:00.001-06:00

I just wanted to pop on here tonight and share a wonderful recipe for coffee cake that I made for Mother's Day brunch. It's full of cranberries, orange peel, cream cheese, and it is sooo yummy. Even my dad and my brother-in-law, who normally don't partake in cranberry dishes, ate second helpings of this. Of course, lots of sugar and cream cheese will have a tendency to make just about anything palatable.

My children helped me make this the night before Mother's Day. While watching me chop up the frozen cranberries, my son said (over and over with the most forlorn expression), "Sad berries. Berries so sad. Chop. Chop." And as my little kitchen helpers sat on the counter top assisting me, I heard myself saying something that probably doesn't fall under the category of typical meal preparation talk: "If it falls on your sock, don't throw it in the mixing bowl."

I have several old issues of Taste of Home, and this came from one of their recipe contests for coffee cake. It was tough for me to choose which one to make. I figured I'd just start with this one (which, by the way, was a runner-up, not even the winning recipe) and work my way down their list. So, without further ado, here's the rundown:

Creamy Cranberry Coffee Cake

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup sugar

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1 egg

3/4 cup orange juice

1/4 cup butter, melted

1 tsp vanilla extract

2 cups coarsely chopped cranberries (fresh or frozen)

1 Tbsp grated orange peel

Cream cheese layer:

1 pkg. (8 oz) cream cheese, softened

1/3 cup sugar

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla extract

Topping:

3/4 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup cold butter

In a large bowl, combine first 4 ingredients. Then combine the egg, orange juice, butter, and vanilla; stir into dry ingredients until well mixed. Fold in cranberries and orange peel. Pour into greased 9-in. springform pan.

In a small mixing bowl, beat cream cheese and sugar until smooth. Add egg and vanilla; mix well. Spread over batter. Combine the flour and sugar; cut in butter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle over the top.

Place springform pan on a baking sheet and bake @ 350 degrees for about 70 minutes (I checked mine beginning at the 60 minute mark) or until golden brown. Be sure not to overcook! Cool on wire rack for 15-30 minutes before removing sides of pan (I didn't remove mine until the next morning -- after it safely made the journey to my parents' house).

My favorite part of this cake is the custard-like layer right there in the middle. I'm not a fan of dry, crumbly coffee cakes (is anybody?). There is definitely zero chance of this cake tasting dry or crumbly. It turned out moist, creamy (with just a bit of crunch from the topping), and had just a hint of tanginess from the cranberries and a light citrus zing from the orange peel. A perfect balance of flavors. A must-try for your next brunch or, really, any morning when you need a little motivation to get out of bed and start the day! If there had been any leftovers from our Mother's Day brunch, I would have raced down to the kitchen the following morning to eat every last morsel.

A Little Something for Me

2010-05-09T20:09:00.000-06:00

Happy Sunday, everyone! Pictured above is a little gift I bestowed on myself for Mother's Day this year. Sometimes we have to treat ourselves to non-essential, but pretty things, don't we ladies? I saw this necklace gracing the pages of many blogs lately, and I just knew that it was destined to become my new "everyday" necklace. A staple in my jewelry wardrobe (other than my wedding rings, of course).

I love the sentiment stamped on it, "hand holder, dream soother, love giver." Plus, I'm partial to the word "Mama," the way in which both of my children refer to me. I honestly feel that wearing this necklace makes me feel more present and aware of some very important components to my "job." When my son is screaming and crying inconsolably for the third hour in a row, I finger that silver medallion hanging around my neck, and I am reminded to be a "love giver."

I opted for the large link chain instead of the sterling ball chain because I love the flowy openness to it (another visual reminder to stay open and receptive throughout my day). And I also think the links look like a series of wedding bands: the symbol of never-ending love, a love so deep that there is no distinct beginning or end. I feel that the unbreakable bond that characterizes a wedding ring is just as easily (if not more so) adapted to the love we mothers have for our children...an eternal love.

I do think that all women have an innate nurturing spirit. We expend inordinate amounts of energy loving, nurturing, and taking care of the people in our lives -- whether those people are children, husbands, friends, or parents. So, to me, Mother's Day is a day to celebrate all women and the way we make this world a better place by being in it, taking care of our dear ones and making them feel like the treasures they are.

{this moment}

2010-05-07T06:36:00.000-06:00

{this moment}

hitting life's "pause" button

no chit-chat

just a single photo

a glimpse

our life, here and now

forever etched in my mind

and in my heart

...inspiration courtesy of SouleMama

Don't You Think Daisies Are the Friendliest Flower?

2010-04-30T21:41:00.001-06:00

I couldn't help but use a line from one of my favorite movies in my post's title today. And I also couldn't agree more: daisies DO look like the friendliest flowers, don't they? Well, they do when they are sprinkled all over a little girl's Easter dress and she's twirling and giggling and dancing with her brother:

They frequently dance together...she calls him her "little prince."

I love the way he's beaming at her in the above photo (and you can't tell, but she's beaming back at him just the same way!)

A bright sunny morning and two siblings that really are best friends...these are the things that warm a mama's soul.

Another close call

2010-04-28T05:52:00.000-06:00

{Just a note: if you are a new visitor to my blog, welcome! Just to let you know, I generally go for a more positive vibe around here. The entry for today and the post just previous to this one (regarding my son) are not typical. But, since both incidents were heavily charged emotionally, I found it helpful to add them to my blog. I have always found writing to be a very therapeutic aid, and putting my thoughts down in the written word helps prevent all of those emotions and thoughts from just swirling around endlessly in my head. And, after all, this space is a dedicated spot for recording all the happenings in our life: the good, the bad, the sweet, the sour. But, my plan is (and always has been) to pool the majority of my blogging effort into the happy, joyous, feel-good stuff that fill our days.}

I need a cup of tea to steady my nerves. It is 5:02 am and I feel queasy and so unsettled that I am finding it difficult to choose my words.

We've just suffered another major scare, our second such scare in less than 12 hours. This morning's heart-stopping moment coming on the heels of last night's incident with our son. But, through the queasiness and uncertainty, I can feel God's presence. I am incredibly grateful that He has seen us through another potentially dangerous moment.

I am currently sitting in front of the picture window on the front of our home. I am watching and waiting. Watching the full moon drop slowly behind the mountain range. Watching the dark valley that stretches out before me. Waiting for the sunrise. Waiting to see if the danger has passed. My, were we ever so thankful for the light of a full moon on this early morning.

This is how it all started:

I didn't even crawl into bed until 12:30 am. Still wired and emotional after my son's ordeal. My son woke up fussing 4 times between 12:30 - 3:00 am. After the fourth waking, he asked me to hold his hand while he fell asleep. I obliged. I eventually back to sleep myself, only to wake up again at 3:45 am. This is my husband's rising time. Because of the early hour, he sleeps in a different room so his clock alarm doesn't disturb the children (my 2 little ones and I share the master bedroom). Lying there, semi-awake, I watched for the tell-tale light to go on in the living room so I would know that my husband was up for the day (he has a terrible habit of sleeping through his alarm). I must have fallen back to sleep while I waited, because the next thing I know, it's 4:12 am.

At 4:12 am I was awoken by someone banging on the exterior french doors of the master bedroom. These doors lead to the backyard. At first I thought it was a burglar. But then, I thought, a burglar wouldn't bother to bang on the door first, would he? I got out of bed and walked down the hall to see if my husband was still sleeping (as I fell asleep before I knew whether he had gotten up for work or not). His bedroom was dark and empty. Okay, I reasoned, the person banging on the glass door must be my husband.

As I walked back to the bedroom, the banging on the glass became incessant. Now that I knew it was my husband, I was feeling annoyed by all the noise because I was sure he was going to wake the children. I felt my way through the dark bedroom and pulled back the curtain on the french doors. Relieved to confirm it was, indeed, my husband. He shouted at me through the glass, "Go to the kitchen door!"

So, I made my way through the house toward the kitchen. Before I got there, he was already banging on the kitchen door and frantically jiggling the door handle. Geez, I thought, why is he being so impatient? He usually leaves the house for work by 4:15 am. And that was roughly the time right now, so I didn't understand why he was so frantic.

Before I could completely open the door, he barreled past me. I thought for sure he was being chased by something, and was half expecting to see a mountain lion following close behind my poor husband's heels. He was so worked up he could barely get the words out, "I dumped the ashes from the woodstove into the valley. I think I just started a fire! Holding a bucket in hand, he began to fill it up with water at the kitchen sink. Stunned, I froze for a moment. Then, the distinct smell of fire caught my attention and snapped me out of my daze. He ran past me with the bucket of water and shouted over his shoulder, "Fill up as many pots of water as you can!"

Searching the cupboards for the biggest pot I could find, I started praying out loud, "Please, Lord, save us once again. Please make everything alright. Please help us..." I was shaking, searching fruitlessly for something to fill with water. I found one smallish stock pot and began filling it. I leaned my head out the door and looked toward the valley. Except for the motion light on the garage and the light of the moon, it was pitch black outside. I couldn't even see Mark out there dumping water. But, oh my goodness, the fire smell was strong. In an instant, I thought about our move here, the remodeling we've done, the work we've put in to make this our dream house, and the children sleeping in the bedroom. Mostly I thought about them. They were safe right now, but I had no idea if the smell in the air was a threat to them or not.

Mark made a dozen more trips with the water (why, oh why, haven't we stockpiled jugs of water in case of an emergency like this. And why don't we have a water spigot and hose at the base of our property?). Then, when he was relatively confident it was out, he began to look in earnest for his car keys. Apparently he had them in hand when he dumped the bucket of ashes (by the way, just so you don't think he's an idiot, these ashes were from a fire that burned 2 days ago! So, not fresh hot embers or something obviously dangerous like that). When he saw the embers start igniting the twigs and pine needles in the area, he dropped his keys in a panic. That's why he had to knock on the door to wake me up -- he was locked out of the house and couldn't access any water. Thankfully, the light of the full moon fell upon the keys, laying on the slope of the forest valley, causing a glint of light to catch Mark's eye. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to drive to work (new car, no spare key made yet).

So, now I sit here in the dark, watching the valley, hoping and praying that I will not see an orange glow appear. Obviously, I won't be going back to sleep. That hour and a half of sleep I got will have to get me through the day. I am hearing the wind start to pick up and I desperately hope that it dies down quickly. I have visions of the wind carrying tiny embers deeper into the forest where they will smoulder into fire -- fire I won't see burning until it is too late. Every few minutes I poke my head outside and smell the air, just to be sure I don't smell any smoke.

But, my paranoia about the wind gets the better of me. Still in my pajamas (my bright pink bunny ones -- footed pj's, no less -- I am quite a sight to behold), I slip on my boots (which barely fit over the bunny ears sewn onto each pj foot) and go outside to check for smouldering ashes. However, the motion light going on behind me and the sound of twigs snapping (I'm sure the wind was the culprit) made me scurry back up to the house. So, I will have to wait for the sun to come up. The sun always seems to come up way too early when I'm asleep in my bed. But right now, since I'm anxiously awaiting its arrival, it is taking an eternity. I'm cautiously optimistic, though. I think all is well out there in the forest. For the second time in 12 hours, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

When a moment seems like a lifetime...

2010-04-27T22:17:00.005-06:00

We just had one of those moments that will shake a parent to their core. It all started out innocently enough: I was trying to wrangle the children for bed and get their pajamas on. In typical fashion, my son was dodging me like a bullet. Tired of chasing him, I just sat on the bedroom floor and waited for him to come around my way again.

My daughter, being the Little Mommy she is, helped me by taking away the cars he was carrying around and started to lead him back to me. He, of course, didn't like this at all and started to wail. In fact, he threw himself down on the floor and got ready for an all-out fit. And then, suddenly he went silent. Although his face was the picture of a screaming baby, no sound was coming out of his mouth. My husband, Mark, was right there next to him and I could hear him trying to calm him down.

I got up from where I was sitting and went into the hall. I saw my husband and my son coming toward me, when suddenly my son threw himself face-first onto the floor. His body was thrashing about violently. Still emitting no sound from his mouth. {Looking back, I realize that this thrashing was probably the result of panic on my son's behalf, although it looked as if he was seizing} I leaned down to pick him up and he went stiff as a board in my arms. I looked at his face and it was purple. His lips were blue. Really, truly blue. His eyes had a vacant look, and although he was looking at me, it was like he was looking through me. Then, I watched as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He had stopped breathing.

I asked (well, screamed, is more like it) my husband if our son was having a seizure (we have a history of childhood epilepsy in our family), and my husband replied that he didn't know what was happening. I frantically thrust our son into my husband's arms and fled for the bedroom phone. I vaguely recall brushing past my daughter, tears in her eyes, as she stood watching nearby.

My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding. I picked up the phone and dropped it. I picked it up and dropped it again. When I had finally grasped it (it felt like I was moving in slow-motion) in my hand, I headed back into the hall. My heart sank. My son, drooping and hanging like a limp rag doll, was completely unconscious in my husband's arms. His lips were still blue and he was not breathing. My husband was calling his name. Again and again. "No. This isn't happening," was the only thought running through my mind. I honestly believed that my son was dying.

Panic had already set in, but now it was in full overdrive. "Are you sure he isn't choking on something??" I asked. Without waiting for an answer, I pleaded to Mark, "Do something!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him giving several hard blows to the back. I shakily dialed 911 while trying to gather the pertinent information in my head: my baby's age, what's happening, our address, my name. All the while, I was calculating how long since my son's last breath and how many minutes it would take for an ambulance to make its way to our house. My calculations gave me a feeling of despair and hopelessness. It would take too long for them to get here. It's already been too long since he last made a sound.

After I dialed, there was a long pause on the phone line. It wasn't ringing. I waited for what seemed like many minutes, but was probably only seconds. I glanced at my son and noticed him slowly lifting up his head. He gasped. His eyes were still closed but he was moving. I hung up the phone and swooped him up against my body. Hugging my baby, I turned and asked Mark a litany of questions, "Is he still blue? Can you see him breathing? Are his eyes open?" Mark assured me that the worst was over and everything was okay.

I started shaking uncontrollably and sobbing. And I didn't (and couldn't) stop for a long time. Holding him as tightly as I ever have, I buried my head into the crook of my son's tiny neck and stroked his hair. I hugged my tearful daughter and told her that we had quite a scare, but her baby brother was alright. My husband sat next to us on the hall floor and rubbed my knee, softly telling me that all is okay now.

As I laid in bed next to my little boy, waiting for him to fall asleep, I listened intently to his breathing. Was it regular? Was it too fast or too slow? Should I let him fall asleep or should we keep him awake for awhile? Honestly, he was wiped out. I think the whole incident physically and mentally exhausted him. While lying there, I thought a lot about feeling helpless and how awful that was. I have taken a few CPR classes in my time (I even reviewed my CPR handbook on a weekly basis when my daughter was an infant). Why, when it looked like I may need to use it, did my mind fail me? My child was blue and I panicked. I couldn't recall anything life-saving or, at the very least, helpful. I hated that feeling and I don't want to feel that way ever again.

With much mama-guilt, I replayed the moments of our day when I felt annoyed by my son's crying or his outright disobedience. I recalled complaining to my husband how difficult our son could be. Now here I was, overcome with tears, feeling nothing but grateful. And humbled. And I wondered to myself, how can I make gratitude and humility my constant companions without being forced to make their acquaintance through survival of a terrifying event? I don't want to be the kind of person who needs a wake-up call in order to appreciate the goodness surrounding me (even amongst the crying and whining and bickering). I'd like to think of myself as one who treasures life's everyday gifts (after all, I'm the one who annoys my husband by listing all of our blessings when he gets bogged down with negative thoughts and worries). I give thanks in prayer every single day. But, I think I could most definitely learn how to better differentiate between life's "big stuff" vs. life's "small stuff." Because, I have to say, I sweat it all. I make every little annoyance, frustration, and inconvenience a big deal. I do gratitude in a big way. But I also do grievances in a big way too. In fact, I give life's petty little downers too much weight in my life. I suppose that's a pretty human thing to do, isn't it? So, the question is, how does one go about being a little less human? ;)

He's a good sport...

2010-04-18T06:12:00.002-06:00

Oh my. It looks like I just may have to start supplementing our dress-up trunk with some more, um, "manly" props for my son. He has suddenly shown an interest in costumes and such, as big sis spends a good portion of each day changing back and forth from a princess to a garden fairy. So, to join in the fun, he really has no choice but to don a tiara or a jeweled necklace (complete with fairy shoes, as shown above).

Perhaps it's time I added some firefighter or pirate attire (I know my daughter would be thrilled with exciting options like those, as well). Although, he certainly doesn't mind the plethora of pink and girly stuff now, he may voice an objection or two in the near future. So, I best be ready with some options.

Still, I can't help but think it's an adorable sight to see my little man dressed in his sister's ballet slippers. I'm not so sure I want to rush him into being a fearsome pirate just yet.

{this moment}

2010-04-16T06:31:00.001-06:00

{this moment}

hitting life's "pause" button

no chit-chat

just a single photo

a glimpse

our life, here and now

forever etched in my mind

and in my heart

....inspiration courtesy of SouleMama

The Golden Spatula

2010-04-12T21:04:00.003-06:00

I've been scrambling my morning eggs with a soup ladle. Why, you ask? Because some cute little fella has claimed my spatula as his very own:

This spatula (he originally referred to it as "Bat-cha!" and then that morphed into the current, "Spata") goes wherever he goes. It accompanies him in the car, on nature walks, during nursing sessions, reading time on the couch, and, as you can see above, he even sleeps with it.

I dropped the children off at my Mom's last week while I went Easter shopping. I noticed the precious spatula sitting next to my son's empty car seat after I arrived at the first store. Oops. I prayed he was too distracted by the "new" toys at Grandma's house to notice his spatula was not by his side. When I went back to my Mom's to pick up the children, my Mom told me that Rascal had spent 10 minutes standing in the kitchen, frantically gesturing toward her counter top. After handing him spoons, salt/pepper shakers, potholders, and anything else she could suspect that he wanted, she finally picked him up and let him show her what he was pointing to. Of course, he reached way in the back of the tool crock and grabbed the lone spatula. She couldn't believe that he had even spied it from his vantage point. But, this boy has some sort of extra-sensory perception when it comes to spatulas.

I've drawn the line at taking his prized spatula out in public places because I do occasionally sneak it back from him in order to cook something where a ladle won't do. Like making pancakes, for instance. The first time I wouldn't let him take it into the grocery store with us, he screamed like I had made him leave a limb behind in the car. So, once in the store, I made a beeline for the cookware aisle and promptly gave him a shiny, new, red spatula to hold onto during the shopping trip. You would have thought I gave him the biggest, sweetest candy on earth. He couldn't stop grinning and showing every passerby his new spatula. Now the cookware section is the first one we hit upon arriving at the store. He and his sister get to pick out new kitchen gadgetry/cooking tools for playing with while we shop. Naturally, I don't actually buy him a new spatula every time we go out -- it's just for holding while we shop. It doesn't actually come home with us. Although, I really should buy a backup spatula, because I hate cooking eggs with a ladle.

This post was the result of Steady Mom's 30-minute Blog Challenge (and was completed, amazingly enough, in 27 minutes. I think that is most definitely a personal record!)

{this moment}

2010-04-09T06:16:00.000-06:00

hitting life's "pause" button

no chit-chat

just a single photo

a glimpse

our life, here and now

forever etched in my mind

and in my heart

...inspiration courtesy of SouleMama

A Weekend Recap...

2010-04-06T21:16:00.000-06:00

I hope you all had an enjoyable and peace-filled Easter weekend. Ours was lovely: just the right amount of busy activity and relaxing downtime. We started the weekend off by attending an Easter "fair" of sorts: complete with a bunny petting zoo, horse-pulled wagon rides, lots of food, games, and face painting (which both of my children refused to have done...I'm not sure why. But the mere suggestion of such brought my daughter to near tears. I guess some kids are afraid of clowns and some have an irrational fear of face painting. Go figure.)

Here is my daughter holding one of the precious baby bunnies they had there. Don't let her serious look fool you, she was on cloud 9 holding that little bun. The fur was like velvet. It's been a long time since I held a rabbit, but I have no recollection of them being that soft. So, so sweet (and so, so tolerant...being passed from child to child a dozen times or more in the 20 minutes we sat in the petting area).

And, of course, no Easter community event would be complete without an Easter egg hunt (or as my daughter kept calling it, an "Easter Bunny hunt"). Before the start of the hunt, she was a little nervous. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had decided she didn't want to go along with it. But, I was so proud of her: she bolted past the other children and went straight to the top of the hill, snatching up as many eggs as she could. Fortunately, my little competitor knew that it wasn't all about "winning" (I saw her give a couple of her eggs to some of the little ones whose baskets were nearly empty). And yes, she is wearing her winter coat and her fleece hat with the ear flaps. We had snow flurries that day, believe it or not. Not the traditional garb for an Easter egg hunt, but there you go.

I really try to avoid the cheap junk at the holidays. I don't see any point filling baskets (or stockings, at Christmas) with stuff I'm going to toss a few days later, just for the sake of making their baskets look "full." So, this year I went with several animal figurines (both wooden and by Schleich), new paintbrushes and watercolors, kitchen gadgets (my little ones love using real measuring spoons, sifters, whisks, basters, etc. to play in flour, sand, and water), and books. I read about the book Zoe and the Fawn on this blog, and knew it would be perfect, what with all the deer we see each day around our yard. Never mind that the shipping (from Canada) cost more than the book itself!

I ended up lining each child's Easter basket with fabric chosen expressly for them (which I will turn into summer outfits, I hope). We attempted to grow our own live Easter grass this year, but on Day 8 (after sowing our grass seeds) Rascal pulled one of the baskets off the windowsill. Wet potting soil and seeds everywhere. Then on Day 11, he proceeded to pull the second basket off the windowsill. Repeat the whole wet-soil-and-grass-seeds-everywhere scenario (complete with much exasperation and grumbling on my behalf). One might be wondering why I didn't move the location of the second basket before its demise. Well, hope springs eternal, I guess. Or maybe it was just laziness. I thought for sure after he witnessed my reaction (overreaction?) to the first basket tipping episode, he wouldn't dare yank another basket off the sill. I was wrong. Regardless, the fabric-lined baskets served their intended purpose (and maybe I've even started a new tradition: a sneak-peak at a future dress/shirt/shorts/jumper or what have you for the warmer months ahead).

2010-04-02T06:06:00.002-06:00

{this moment}

hitting life's "pause" button

no chit-chat

just a single photo

a glimpse

our life, here and now

forever etched in my mind

and in my heart

...inspiration courtesy of SouleMama

Her Signature Color?

2010-03-29T06:14:00.001-06:00

Oh my. We have been sifting through paint chips trying to decide on a final color for my daughter's new bedroom. This is going to be her first "big girl" room (we co-slept until she turned 2, then we put a twin bed a few yards away from our bed and that's where she's been happily snoozing ever since), so it's quite a big deal.

Since I never got a chance to decorate a nursery (because of the co-sleeping arrangement), I am really having fun planning this special space for her. I want it to feel cozy and warm. I want it to be filled with peace and tranquility, so as to help give her that gentle nudge toward dreamland each night. I want her to be able to snuggle under her quilt, look around the room, and see reminders everywhere of happy memories, family history, and the little things that reflect her current interests.

She told me long before we moved that she wanted a pink bedroom. So I dutifully gathered a (rather large and overwhelming) sample of pink paint chips. She sifted through them like a pro, clearly preferring some over others. Although that may have had something to do with the fact that I would pick up a sample and say, "Oh, this one is called Tulip Petal pink! Tulips are Mama's favorite flower. Would you like Tulip Petal walls?" Or I'd say, "How about this one? It's called Baby Girl, just like you're my baby girl!" She, like her well-meaning mama, is easily swayed by the name of the paint sample (I confess to refusing to buy a certain paint color, as perfect as the color was for my intended room, based solely on the fact that I didn't like the name Benjamin Moore gave this particular color).

But, in the end, we narrowed it down to Blossom, Sweet Baby's Breath, Candy Hearts, and Fairy Tale Pink. The winner (which was actually the first pink she chose, but I encouraged her to look over all of her options before deciding) is: Fairy Tale Pink. It is indeed a delicate, sweet, perfect pink for this girl of mine. My husband refers to it as Pepto Pink (as in Pepto-bismol), but she and I are in agreement that it is by far the best choice. As we began painting, she said to us, "Didn't I choose the most perfect shade of pink for my new room? I think it's going to look splendid." I couldn't agree more.

Now, when the subject of her new room comes up, she tells people, "It's Fairy Tale Pink, you know." And it seems Fairy Tale Pink is the new buzz word around our house. If she sees pink icing on the doughnuts in the store, she tells me they're decorated Fairy Tale Pink. When I was browsing in the lipstick aisle, she asked, "Are you looking for one that is Fairy Tale Pink?"

Her latest request was for a Fairy Tale Pink fishing pole to use at the lake this summer. She said that she wanted to wear a pink bathing suit, pink sunglasses, pink ribbons in her hair, and pink sandals while fishing ("for only the little fish, because a big fish might pull me right into the water") with a Fairy Tale Pink fishing pole. I guess you could say that pink just might be her signature color.

2010-03-26T06:18:00.004-06:00

{this moment}

hitting the "pause" button

no chit-chat

just a single photo

a glimpse

our life, here and now

forever etched in my mind

and in my heart

...Inspiration courtesy of SouleMama

"Those Bird Food Cookies"

2010-03-22T21:02:00.001-06:00

Well, one thing I can say for certain is that I am ecstatic that spring has officially sprung! I was so ready to say goodbye to winter -- the tail end of it, anyway. Those last remaining weeks of the season dragged on and brought with it more winter woes: another round of cold/flu for the littlest one and three cracked ribs for me (all that coughing seemed to be more than my poor ribs could take).

So, with all we've had pulling our attention and energy, I've been trying to be kind and not beat myself up for not undertaking any Lenten resolves. I usually try to add something to my Lenten observance (like additional prayer and meditation time or random acts of kindness), rather than subtract something (although I do really need to examine my sugar habit and cut it back or out completely).

I've been so busy taking care of the little ones' sickness around here that I've noticed some severe mama-neglect going on. My remedy? Going to bed much earlier (which is a really, really hard one for me, as nighttime is when I try to squeeze in my precious Me-Time) and those little nuggets of goodness in the photo above, alongside a cup of tea with honey. They are called Grace's Best sunflower seed cookies. Or, as my daughter calls them, "those bird food cookies." Can you tell that we've been busy keeping our bird feeders stocked with sunflower seeds for our feathered friends? ;) Anyway, they are unbelievably delicious for as simple and as healthy as they are. I picked up a package at my local health food store and I wished I had bought more. Don't let my picture fool you...they may not look all that edible and I'm definitely not a food photographer, but they must be tried.

It's the little things like a hot cup of tea and some specialty cookies to dip in it that add a little boost to my day. Bestowing such small tokens on myself make me feel like I'm at least coming in somewhere on the list (you know "the list" I'm talking about: kids, husband, home, errands, etc. etc.).

Happy Spring to all of you! I hope that you are finding little ways to sneak in some self-love and self-preservation during these hopeful days of Spring.

Snippets from my Journal...

2010-03-05T10:57:00.004-07:00

As I stated before, there have been plenty of ups and downs since our move to the mountains. I've been keeping a notebook where I've been jotting down some bits each day, as I knew the memories would slip away if I didn't (but, honestly, there are a few memories I'd be more than happy to forget anyway). Here are a few excerpts (be forewarned: this is a looong post. Get comfy and pour yourself something yummy to sip. This is, essentially, 6 weeks worth of posting squashed into one single post. Sorry about that. I didn't think until afterward to break it up into segments.):

Overall, the high points thus far: the amazing views from pretty much any window in the house; wildlife; absolute peace and quiet; seclusion; the stars in the night sky; the moon; our toasty wood stove; clean, crisp, fresh air.

The low points thus far: wildlife; seclusion; remodeling; pack rats (literally. this is not a euphemism for the mountains of "stuff" we have yet to unpack, although the sheer volume of belongings currently sitting in the garage is definitely a source of frustration and stress); my husband's commute; gas prices; pink eye; fevers; below zero temperatures, plumbing issues, electrical issues, burst water pipes.

You may have noticed that wildlife and seclusion made both lists. This is because some of the wildlife is beautiful and a welcome sight: deer, bunnies, fox, a wide variety of birds. And then there are other aspects of living in the forest that are not so appealing: mountain lions, bears, bobcat. I love seeing the dozens of tracks littering our property in the morning when I can identify them as belonging to a family of deer, a cute fox, or a rabbit. I find it unsettling to discover mountain lion tracks pacing up and down our driveway and garage, however. And the locals tell us we will have quite a show on our hands come spring and summer when it comes to spotting bears. I'm trying to embrace it all as not good or bad, just a different way of life up here. Which is what we wanted (a different way of life, I mean) when we chose to move to the mountains.

As for the seclusion, 90% of the time it's a huge bonus. I love feeling like we're out in the middle of nowhere. Kind of like camping. All the time. Pretty cool, I'd say. Except when both of your children come down with 105 degree fevers in the middle of the night. That's when you want to be within minutes of a hospital or clinic. That's when seclusion is not so glorious and city life is looking pretty good.

Jan. 10, 2010: Moving Day! All went smoothly unless you count the moving van plowing into the car of my husband's best friend. That's a big chunk of change we didn't plan on shelling out. Don't they always say to throw a bag of sand or kitty litter in the back of your car in winter, to give your car some extra weight on icy roads?? Who would have thought the weight of an entire house worth of stuff wouldn't be enough to keep a 30-foot van from slipping down a slope of ice?

Tonight, after the kids were in bed, Mark was standing in the front door looking outside. "Come here, hurry!" he whispered to me. Confused, I scrambled over boxes to the doorway. My eyes followed Mark's finger pointing upward. I had to do a double-take, as I was certain my eyes were playing tricks on me. The sky was filled with countless stars. Every constellation I had ever read about or learned about in school was right above our heads. It was as if I had stepped out of my house and into the dome of a planetarium. There was no possible way that this sight before me was real! I can't remember the last time I was filled with such awe and wonder. Speechless, we both stood there shivering in the cold, black night, gazing up at God's handiwork. Truly amazing.

Jan. 11, 2010: Yay for Mark taking a day off work to help us settle in today. We went for a neighborhood walk as a family. Loving this sunny weather and fresh mountain air!

Not all is rosy, however. We had no heat last night. NONE. We don't yet have firewood for the wood stove and, for some reason, the baseboard heaters never kicked on. Even after we turned the thermostat up to 80 degrees. I spent the entire night shivering and throwing extra layers on blankets on the children. Mark told me he spent all of last night thinking how we could pack enough of our belongings in the car and move into a hotel for the time being.

We had to drive down to the city today and take our car to the mechanic. Due to some electrical snafu, the left headlight doesn't stay lit. In the city, this may not have been such a problem, but since 90% of my husband's commute is on dark, steep, winding mountain roads (and the left headlight is the one that illuminates the only line separating my husband from oncoming traffic...it's a pretty big deal having only one working headlight). MUST get it fixed today.

We stopped at my parents' house while we were in town. It was so wonderful there that I didn't want to leave. We took hot showers there. My Mom fed us a delicious dinner. They had hot air blasting through the heat vents. It was...a utopia. I actually felt pangs of homesickness. I just wanted to go upstairs to my bedroom and curl up under my childhood quilt. Everything in their house spoke of cozy familiarity. It's not that I don't like our new house. It's just that our new house is new and unfamiliar and not "us" yet.

As we pulled away from their driveway (and as they stood waving goodbye to us), I felt like a little girl going off to sleep-away camp: nervous, a little sick to my stomach, on the verge of tears. But I'm a grown-up, I reminded myself. My children need me to suck it up and set about in earnest to make our new house a comforting refuge. Just like the one I had the pleasure of growing up in--just like the one we just left a few minutes ago. I'm the Mom. It's my job.

Jan. 12, 2010: Still no heat for the second night in a row. The plumber is coming out to check the water pipes feeding the baseboard heaters. This house was winterized and de-winterized several times over the last year, and perhaps it wasn't done thoroughly. Praying for a warm night tonight. At least Mother Nature has been holding off on the snow. For that we are immensely grateful.

Jan. 13, 2010: Took the kids for a walk by myself for the first time. Constantly checking over my shoulder for mountain lions (gosh, I hope that paranoia won't last forever! Obviously, I want to stay alert, but I don't want to obsess about it). On the way back home we came upon six deer in the road. They wouldn't move out of our way. And I definitely think they were staring me down! I couldn't remember if you were supposed to look deer in the eye, not look them in the eye, or look briefly in their eyes and then shift your gaze away. Or maybe there aren't any rules for crossing the path of deer?? I didn't know. So, I just casually crossed to the opposite side of the street from where the deer were, pushing Rascal's stroller and minding my own business. Just to be safe, I held Roo's hand and made sure that the stroller was always between her and those brazen deer. My heart was pounding in my chest the entire time. I was actually scared of Bambi (well, 6 Bambis, to be exact). Go figure. I guess I'm more of a city girl than I thought.

Jan. 14, 2010: Went for another walk with the children today. We took a different route and it's one we won't be taking again. We wandered into an area that was overrun by large, mangy, wolf-hybrid dogs. All barking. All without collars. All ready to pounce on us. One of them started charging toward us and fortunately, at that moment, Rascal dropped his cup of milk. When it landed on the road, the lid popped off and the milk spilled out. A huge puddle of goat's milk on a dirt road. The dog obviously never happened upon such a delicacy before, and he stopped to lap it up. That was our cue to turn around and high-tail it out of there.

Jan. 16, 2010: Small-town living, you just gotta love it! Mark went to get us pizza for dinner from the Mom & Pop place down the road from us (we moved into this house knowing we would not have a kitchen for at least the first month of living here. It's tough and expensive, but at least it's only temporary. I'm kind of enjoying the break from cooking). It was only the second time he's been there to pick us up something for dinner. He walked in the door of the restaurant and the owner called out, "Hi, Mark." (!) His second time in there and the owner knows him by name! Do you think that in the 10 years we visited the same restaurant in the city, that anyone ever called us by name when we walked in the door? No! Of course not.

Another sign that we have shifted into small town living: our chimney guy knows our plumber, who knows our roofer, who knows our electrician. Everyone seems to know (or at least, know of) everyone else. I love that.

Oh, and can you believe that I ran into the county sheriff at the end of our driveway? I didn't literally run into him with my car or anything like that. But I was out walking and he was parked at the end of our driveway, doing his rounds. He introduced himself by telling me his nickname! Not, Hello, I'm Sheriff Jones or Smith or what-have-you. But his nickname!! Maybe we've stumbled upon the Mountain Mayberry. Friendly, down-to-earth folks just about everywhere you look.

Jan. 18, 2010: One sight I don't think I'll ever tire of around here is the deer. Some days it's just two or three. Other times, we may see 10 or 15. And while I used to think I had to sneak up to the window or out onto the deck to snap some photos, I realize now that these deer could care less. The young ones are more skittish and wary of our presence, but even they don't really run away.

This morning, a little deer family was passing by our bedroom window. I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye, and it startled me. But once I saw that it was merely a mama and baby deer meandering along, the children and I just sat and watched the show. If our windows had been open and didn't have screens on them, we could have reached out and stroked their fur as they tip-toed past us! That's how close they were! Unbelievable.

Oh, those shiny black noses and big gentle eyes! And the ears! I love those ears.

Such a sleek and majestic sight!

Jan. 19, 2010: The weather changes on "our mountain" (as we affectionately call it) constantly amaze and entertain me. I have snapped more photos looking westward out our window than anything else thus far. To watch the weather roll in over the mountain and down into the valley is fascinating! For example, the next three shots show how quickly the weather changes around here. These were taken over a 9 minute span of time. 9 minutes!

We are looking at a sunny, blue-sky kind of day.

Within minutes, the gray clouds roll in. With them comes rain, sleet, and snow flurries.

Less than 10 minutes later, the sky is blue again and all that remains is some residual mist and fog hanging over the valley.

Feb. 1, 2010: Early this morning I walked outside to check some tracks in the snow that were running right along the side of our house and under the porch. While out in the fresh morning air, I could hear a myriad of bird calls, woodpeckers drumming, squirrels chattering, and wind blowing through the pines. To my amusement, it reminded me of the sounds emanating from an orchestra pit as the musicians warm up before the start of a show. So many different sounds: starting and stopping abruptly, changing tune and tempo. It was as if the forest critters were gearing up for the day ahead, all fine tuning their "instruments" before this morning's debut.

Feb. 5, 2010: Did I mention that this house sat empty for almost a year? It seems that some little furry creatures decided to make this their home during that time. The "rodent guy" tells me that our attic is infested with rats. Rats! When I think rats, I think New York City sewers, not little cabins in the mountains. Needless to say, many tears were shed on my part. Quite hysterical, I called Mark at work and said, "Pack your bags. We're so outta here!" There was no way I was staying even one more night in this house. The "rodent guy" told me that it would cost close to $5,000 to get rid of the rats and replace all of the insulation in the attic. More tears were shed.

Crying, I called my parents. As all good parents do, they scrambled to help in any way they could. My Dad made half a dozen phone calls and tracked down another specialist to check our situation out. The owner and employee of this one-man, small-town business came out and immediately put my mind at ease. He said we most certainly were not "infested" as the man from the big-time rodent company told me. He said we have (or had, as they might be gone by now with all the remodeling noise going on here) one, maybe two, pack rats living in the attic. This guy loves his rodents. He told me that pack rats are very tame (for being wild animals) and quite cute. Not at all resembling the image that most people associate with the word "rat." Regardless, I told him, I don't want even the cutest rats living in my attic.

So he set some traps (the humane kind, so he can capture them and relocate them 100 miles from here). And we waited. Nothing happened. Not a sign of rats or mice or anything in the rodent family. Relieved, does not even begin to describe how I felt when he carried away the empty traps a week later. He sealed up any possible entry points for future critter visitors, and that was that. $85 was the final bill. Hmmm....we just saved ourselves $4,915 this week. Feeling pretty good. I love this house again. So the unpacking continues after all.

Feb. 8, 2010: Tally for last week: a leaking pipe and an inch of water on the laundry room floor; insufficient electrical wiring for installing new kitchen lighting and appliances; the contractor had to move the existing plumbing in order to remodel the guest bath and the kitchen. The original section of this house is 50 years old, and it's beginning to become very apparent that the original section of this house is 50 years old. *Sigh*

Feb. 9, 2010: After a fresh snowfall last night, we started our day with a nature walk. Truly magical! The beauty was awe-inspiring. We enjoyed ourselves so much that I called Mark at work when we got home and I thanked him for making this move to our new home possible. So, so happy here.

And so we continue to get settled and make this house home. Some days are filled with drama and headache. But, most days are filled with beauty and peace of mind. As Roo said, while sitting in front of the fire on a snowy night several weeks ago, "God put us in the right place." Amen to that.

Waiting to Welcome the Familiar

2010-03-01T21:04:00.000-07:00

We are entering our third week of sickness around here. It's unusual for anyone in our family to be sick for three days, let alone three weeks. It's growing old. I'm growing quite weary of washing sheets and dealing with middle-of-the-night coughing fits that wake up everyone in the house. I've almost forgotten what it's like to just get up and go about a normal day.

Now that my daughter and I are ever-so-slowly on the mend, my son is battling the worst of it. Last week he had a temperature of 105 for 5 days. On the sixth day, his temp plummeted to 99.5 and he was suddenly covered in a rash all over his torso and thighs. While I was pleased that his fever broke, the rash was concerning. The next morning, the rash had spread to his face and neck. By then the rash had changed from a pin-prick dotty rash to an angry, red, splotchy disaster. It was, quite frankly, startling. The kind of rash that makes you shudder and force you to put on that brave, confident Mama-face. Can't add to my baby's discomfort by looking unsettled and worried myself.

A call to the on-call doctor (why do these illnesses always happen on the weekend??) confirmed what my internet research had led me to suspect: my baby boy had roseola. Fortunately, the rash comes on the tail-end of the illness. Unfortunately, I think the illness has really weakened his immune system. Because this morning, he seems to have the cold/flu/pink eye yuckiness that the rest of us have been fighting. Poor guy can't seem to catch a break.

I realized this morning as I was tucking him into bed, I really miss seeing my boy as his usual self. Of course there are the typical happy things that I long to see again. But I find myself wanting to catch glimpses of odd things that I never thought I'd miss. I would welcome, in a heartbeat, these things:

Other than a few spoonfuls of plain goat's milk yogurt, he hasn't taken a bite to eat in over a week. Usually he eagerly feeds himself and makes an enormous, sticky mess. I would gladly welcome having to clean up the table, the floor, the chair, and my boy's pleased face.

My son hasn't been upright for more than 10 minutes since this illness began. All he does is sleep or lie down for hours, with a distant and glazed look in his eyes. If I've been carrying him around the house and need to set him down for a minute, he silently collapses into a heap on the floor. Just like a rag doll. Yesterday he tried to walk across the room. He wobbled. First to the left, then to the right, and then he fell down. Since the day he was born, this child has never. stopped. moving. Normally he buzzes around the house like the Energizer bunny. If the Energizer bunny carried sticks and rocks and destroyed everything in his path, that is. I would welcome the chance to follow him around the house, cleaning up the piles of rubble left in his wake.

My little boy has been too weak to muster a cry. He whimpers and moans. If words could be put to his little noises, I think they would say, "Mama, help me please." And no matter what I try to do to make him more comfortable, it never seems like I'm doing enough of the right thing. Over the last 20 months, we've gotten accustomed to hearing him scream and cry and throw Oscar-worthy tantrums on a daily basis. He's never been shy about showing emotions, good or bad or otherwise. I would welcome a hearty, ear-splitting temper tantrum right now.

We've tried offering him some of his favorite toys to cheer him. But they fall out of his hands just seconds after we hand them to him. He's quite content to wrap his entire hand around my index finger, just like he did as a newborn. I've spent every day since we moved to this new house, disciplining my son for unplugging the lamps and Daddy's alarm clock from the wall sockets. Usually he sees me coming toward him to take the plug out of his hand and he takes off running. And laughing. And dragging the alarm clock by its cord. Across the wood floors. It completely exasperates me, and he knows it. I would welcome my mischievous monkey's antics today.

I haven't seen my little boy smile at me in 9 days. When he's healthy, I'm gifted with 9 smiles an hour. Often, they are smiles of mischief. But, most frequently, they are smiles paired with little boy hugs. Hugs so tight around my neck that they make me choke. Or hugs so tight around my legs that I can't walk without stumbling. I'm aching to welcome any kind of smile right now.

So, for now, I wish. And pray. And wait to welcome.

Doing versus Being

2010-02-18T11:05:00.007-07:00

Just before midnight Monday night, my daughter woke up crying. She was clammy and very hot. She had a temperature of 105 degrees and complaining of stomach pains. Naturally, my mind jumped to thoughts of appendicitis. Since we just moved here, we had yet to find an urgent care center near us. There are veterinary clinics aplenty, but nary a clinic to be found for the human patient. Mama-panic set in and I found myself feeling as sick as my sweet girl. What were we to do? I gave her some homeopathics and tried to make her as comfortable as possible.

Here we are 3 days later, and while it turned out not to be appendicitis, my daughter is still feeling miserable. All she wants to do is be held by me and cuddle. It got me to thinking about how I tend to operate when one of my children is sick. It seems I throw myself head-long into "doing" for my child: administer medicine, encourage fluids, wash germy bed linens, scour the internet and my alternative health books for advice, make meals and soups (for which my daughter has no appetite for anyway). Do. Do. Do.

Yet what seems to be the best medicine for my daughter has nothing to do with what I do. No matter what the illness, my children seem to benefit most from my just "be"-ing. Be there to cuddle and read on the couch. Be there to nod sympathetically when my daughter cries that she just doesn't know what she needs or wants. Be silent and stop barraging her with questions like, "How do you feel? Where does it hurt? What do you feel like eating?" Be still. Be patient. Be gentle. Be. Be. Be.

It's so hard to see the ones we love suffering. I think we feel compelled to take action. The sooner we attack the problem, the sooner we'll see results. While there is certainly some truth to this (obviously, I'm not saying we should forgo administering medicine or avoid consulting a doctor if needed), I think the benefits of undivided attention and unlimited doses of hugs and kisses are underrated. I wrote about this very thing last year. I guess in my anxiety and panic, I forgot to apply my own advice and insight. So, I've spent the majority of the last few days holding my four-year-old baby in my arms. I'm ignoring the impulse to get up and "do" more. For now, we're going to revel in just "be"ing together.

Reconnecting...

2010-02-14T08:47:00.005-07:00

Whew! It feels like forever since I've been "connected" to the outside world. Since we don't have a tv or newspaper delivery and the radio stations we pick up are intermittent, I've felt so isolated and out-of-touch with the happenings in the world outside of these four walls. But, we finally have the internet and I'm slowly catching up on news (blog and otherwise).

In fact, my dear husband has taken the children on a little nature walk in the snow so I can curl up in bed with my cocoa and my laptop and check in with some of my favorite blogs. Call it a Valentine's Day present of sorts from him to me -- even though we actually don't celebrate Valentine's Day around here (as a "couple," I should say, although the children and I do Valentine crafts and such).

My, it's been a very interesting transition to our new life here in the mountains. Most of it has been wonderful. But naturally, with all things in life, it can't ALL be wonderful. We've hit some bumps in the road, but we continue to forge ahead and I'm so looking forward to filling you all in on the highs and lows (but, we shall be focusing most intensely on the highs as everyone has their own lows, so who wants to hear someone drone on about those, right?)

Well, the gang is back, so I will sign off here. I think plans are brewing for a fire and some marshmallow roasting. But I can't dash off before wishing you all a day filled with all things good, whatever "good" means to you: love of family and friends, a warm home, food on the table, a job, a hobby or interest that you feel passionate about, a good book paired with a yummy drink, a long nap, a hot soak in a tub, lunch and a movie with your sweetie, time alone to write in a journal, or prayers and good wishes sent your way from near and far. We all define a good day in a different way. So, whatever it is that you need, my wish is that you find it and feel it today.

Just a Few Favorite Spots of Home...

2010-01-09T23:59:00.001-07:00

Well, as much as I've been wanting to move for years now, I find myself feeling rather nostalgic about this dwelling we've called home for the last decade. It's the first home my husband ever owned. It's where I came to live after marrying him. We welcomed our children into this home after they were born. This carpet has cushioned the first tentative steps of our babies, and then the pounding and stomping of those babies-turned-toddlers. This house has seen gatherings formal and not, of family and friends, for holidays, birthdays, and game nights. We've dreamed here, cried here, laughed (a lot!) here. This home has sheltered us and been good to us. We will miss it and remember it always. But, it's time to move forward and set roots down in an entirely new place. Exciting, yes. But daunting too. Change is always hard for me, even when that change is necessary and for the better. I snapped just a few shots while packing things up this week:

I painted those plates and hung them up there to help fill that blank wall space. But, looking at the photo, the plates just seem to attract attention to that awful "popcorn" ceiling! Definitely won't be missing that.

I love the fabric hoops because it's so easy to change them out according to season or just because I've got some new fabric I want to look at more often!

This piece (fabric covered canvas) is called "In Full Bloom." It represents our family, the four of us, growing together. I made it just after our youngest was born.

The rose in that glass dome is from the first bouquet my husband ever sent me (12 years ago). The sweetest part about it is that he secretly swiped that rose from my bouquet after visiting me at my apartment. I didn't even notice that he did it. The next day he went to the hobby store and bought all the necessary items to preserve it and present it so beautifully! I've had it prominently displayed ever since.

I'm going to miss my daughter's bed being just a hop, skip, and jump away from our bed. She's been within arm's reach of me every night since she was born. I'm going to miss being able to just lift my head to check on her. And listen to her breathing. And...well, I'm going to miss us all sleeping in the same room. It always felt so comforting, a little like Little House, being in close quarters like that.

I'm going to miss the great tree out back that has been home for so many birds and squirrels (and once, an owl!).

The squirrels have provided much entertainment to my little ones looking out the glass door every morning: burying treats under the leaves and carefully covering them up!

Doing acrobatics while eating from the corn cob feeder:

And trying to outwit the squirrel-proof bird feeders:

This great tree of ours is like a sensory, 3-D calendar of the seasonal changes: from rustling golden autumn, to bare stick-like figures of winter, to the fragrant white blooms of spring, and then the lush, green canopy of summer.

I will be away from this space for a while, as tomorrow is Moving Day. Internet availability is sketchy at best where we are headed. It will take a bit of time to work out the kinks and settle back into blogging. Of course, there's all that moving in and settling in to do, as well! That probably should take precedence :) But please continue to check back now and then, as I plan on returning to posting here as soon as I am able. Until then, wishing you happy days and peaceful nights!

A New Place to Call Home:

2010-01-07T16:24:00.000-07:00

After much searching, both geographically and in our hearts, I am excited to share that we have found our new home. A place for our family to grow, learn, thrive. My dream is to make this house a home. Where happiness dwells and laughter lingers. Where roots grow deeply & love flows freely.

My husband and I jokingly call this our "Paparazzi" shot because, although she is waving, it looks as though she's trying to block her face from the prying eye of the camera! We just love that we finally have lots of open space for the children to play outside.

Coming from a busy suburb, we can't get over how oddly deafening the quiet stillness of the forest is that surrounds us.

I love this photo. I'll tell you why: At nearly every house we looked at over the last 8 months, there were deer to be seen. Well, the first time we came up to see this future home of ours, I didn't see a single one. I love the sight of deer scampering by, so I was disappointed that we seemed to be in a deer-free zone. I even asked my husband, "Did you see any deer tracks outside the house? I didn't see any. Maybe I missed them? Did you see any??"

My husband and I fell in love with the land and the house, but felt torn as to what we should do. You see, we currently had an offer on another house that we loved and wanted, but it was taking ages to move along (those dreaded short sales!). Prior to that, we had our hearts set on two other houses that we felt sure were "it." However those eventually fell through -- one for a failed inspection and the other one we got outbid in the third round. Heartbreaking as it was at the time, I can see now that those events were just leading us to this place.

Anyway, just before we left the deerless house, I was sitting in the car nursing my son. I said out loud, "Lord, please send me a sign. Show us down the right path." Almost instantly (seriously, it was like 0.3 seconds later), the deer appeared. Several of them. Leaping over rocks and ducking in and out of the trees. It was like that scene in the movie "Funny Farm" when Chevy Chase's character says, "Cue the deer," and they release a beautiful fawn from a cage. The fawn proceeds to scamper right in front of the prospective buyers' eyes. {Does anyone know the scene I'm talking about??} Anyway, I happily took that as my "sign." And the fact that passing inspections, loan stuff, and signing the closing papers literally at the eleventh hour have all come quickly on the heels of that powerful deer sighting, I am taking them all as signs that we are where we are supposed to be. And that brings us such a feeling of peace. I can't think of a better way to start a new year than being filled with a sense of peace!

Too Busy Making Merry, I Guess...

2010-01-05T22:35:00.002-07:00

Wow. Did you hear that thud? That was the sound of me dropping the proverbial ball. I promised posts filled with Christmas craft ideas, recipes, and other holiday snippets. What I failed to consider was that my hopes and plans for the holidays almost always involve me biting off more than I can chew. I apologize for my absence from this space for the last few weeks. Geez, has it really been that long? I do sincerely hope that your holiday moments were joyful ones and that you are eagerly anticipating an exciting and fulfilling 2010!

Our holidays were lovely. As a Christmas enthusiast, I always feel somewhat sad after Christmas has passed. I find myself grasping to catch the last few holiday memories before they slip through my fingers. Lingering, I attempt to bask in the Christmas afterglow: slowly packing away the tree ornaments, admiring the new ones from this year and remembering what fun we had making them; folding freshly washed Christmas dish towels, thinking about putting them to use again next year for holiday baking; and taking down the Advent stockings, being thankful that my children were too young this year to care if I forgot to fill them each and every day of Advent.

As always, I have my predictions as to what gifts will garner the most oohs, aahs, and smiles from my beloved recipients. And, as always, the children generally prove me wrong. Except on a few particular gifts. So, I thought I'd share a few of the "hits" (and let's not discuss the "misses" for now, as I am still holding out hope that they will come around and become big fans of the other gifts I painstakingly chose).

I had grandiose plans of raiding my mom's closet for some dress-up clothes and getting my hands on a vintage suitcase that I was going to decorate to personalize it for my daughter. In the end, I ran out of time and purchased various dress-up outfits instead. Many of these purchases were done online, so I was surprised to see the items in person, as they were very...pink. Not soft, baby-pink, but sort of a loud, in-your-face pink. Regardless, I knew Roo would love them and she did Although, she is still afraid to wear the Elton John-like glasses and the clip-on earrings. I'm not sure why, but at least her little brother is finding them fun. :)

These heels were a bit high for my liking (again, hard to know the specs on things like this when buying online), but she insisted on wearing them even though they elicited tears every time she turned her ankle while walking in them.

And below, we have the flapper dress stylishly paired with owl pajamas and a super-pink boa (or furry jump rope, in this case).

My other hit was this Sprig dump truck for Rascal. He enjoyed gathering bits of wrapping paper and bows for "trash" and tooling around the living room. I think he has perfected his dump truck sound effects at this point. Is that a boy thing? My daughter rarely makes "car sounds" when she plays with cars and trucks. Instead, she makes the cars chatter and sing songs. Granted, my son has very few words at this point (he's 18 months), but even when my daughter was his age, she was never into "doing" sound effects. Perhaps it's yet another example of what everyone told me when Rascal was born: "Boys are different from girls. You just wait and see." And they weren't kidding. My son and daughter have already shown this Mama a myriad of differences: some delightful and cute, and some frustrating and challenging. But, I digress.

I took this picture tonight of the flannel board I made. Roo was playing with it before dinner. On it right now you can see the felt pieces to go along with the Eric Carle story, "A House for Hermit Crab." You'll also see some random bunnies and cats on the right side there, because no ocean is complete without its fair share of domestic pets.

I also began work on felt pieces to use with some other stories: Cat in the Hat, Very Hungry Caterpillar, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, and a few others. Reading the story while the children put the pieces on the board makes reading more interactive, which is nice for really little ones like mine (increases their comprehension and memory of the story line, plus it's just fun to make things stick without having to use tape or glue!) Added into the book props are some basic shapes like rectangles, squares, and circles so they can create buildings, cities, and cars. Some trees, grass, mud puddles, clouds, raindrops, and other felt objects make it possible for them to make up their own stories. It was a fun project to work on those last couple of weeks before Christmas. Cutting out the characters free-hand was time-consuming (I wasted a lot of felt and didn't finish up half the pieces I had in mind when I started), but I think it will be a nice (quiet!) activity for them to play with during the coming winter days.

Every year I intend to keep the holidays simple. Especially where gifts are concerned. But, every year I talk myself out of it because I love choosing gifts and imagining how the gift will delight someone and how it will be put to good use. Plus, that Amazon cart is just so easy to fill -- even at 2 am! Gifts for the children are my weak point. My husband and I keep it simple when it comes to presents for each other and adults in general (parents, in-laws, friends, etc.). But, as children, my husband and I both recall coming down Christmas morning to a tree completed swallowed up by mounds of sparkling wrapped presents. We rationalize that Christmas only comes once a year and so it's okay to go overboard. We generally avoid excessive material consumption the rest of the year and we make sure the children observe and take part in giving to charity year-round. So, I suppose we feel justified in piling on the goods at Christmastime. Well, I think what I observed this Christmas is going to push me headlong into gift restrictions next Christmas. This is what I saw:

My normally cheery 4 year old daughter was mopey and teary and quite obviously overstimulated by the gift opening. After she opened the first gift of Christmas morning she wanted to play with it immediately. But, since we were on a bit of a time crunch (we had plans to drive to my parents' house later that morning, we still had to eat the special Christmas Day breakfast, and we had more presents to follow), we told her to put the gift aside and continue opening gifts. Reluctantly, she did so. I noticed that she was becoming progressively less excited with the opening of each subsequent gift. The thrill had worn off.

Later on, she was opening a gift that my family had purchased as a group (as it was a tad pricey, but it was something my daughter had been asking for repeatedly). But, instead of being happy to see the long-awaited present, she was apparently in gift-opening mode, because no sooner had the paper been ripped off the box when she asked, "What else can I open?" *Gulp* Talk about embarrassing. I reminded myself that 4 year old children are allowed (and maybe even expected) to forget their manners once in awhile. But, the message had finally hit home (heck, I think the message was hit clear out of the ballpark): it was all Too Much. Too much rushing, too much unwrapping, too much hub-bub.

We've always been vigilant about talking about the true meaning of Christmas with our daughter. We've given lip service to the idea that it is not about the presents. But, our words and our actions don't always match up. We think that by buying presents, we're doing it "for them," when we're really doing it for us. To make ourselves feel like we are providing enough: enough fun, enough excitement, enough education, enough experiences. Enough love? Maybe on some subconscious level I believe tokens of affection are exactly that: proof of how much someone loves someone else. Hmmm...Well, now I say enough with the gifts.

I will admit that, as an adult, I love shopping. I get swept away by the whole consumerism thing way too easily. Buyer's remorse is a feeling I am familiar with, unfortunately. I don't want to pass that love of "things" on to my children. And I'm certainly not blaming my parents for planting some shopaholic syndrome seed in me, due to excessive Christmas presents during my formative years or anything like that. But, I know there is something to be said (and possibly a great many somethings to be said) for scaling back the "stuff," and focusing more on the sacredness of the holiday. I had a friend long ago tell me that she and her husband give their children three gifts on Christmas. She said that if it was good enough for Jesus, it was good enough for her own kids. That's an interesting perspective, I think. And it's something I will continue to think about over the coming year. Replacing some of the store-bought tangibles with the real gifts of the holiday: peace, togetherness, time, gratitude, love. Oh yes, a whole lotta love. That's certainly one gift that's impossible to give in excess!

Nature-al Gift Wrap

2009-12-17T12:52:00.002-07:00

As much as I had planned having all the gifts wrapped and stacked by now, it just hasn't worked out that way. So, to get the little ones involved with the task, we put a little spin on the standard potato stamps with our own nature-stamped gift wrap. It was simple, fun, and has that "imperfect homemade charm" to it! My daughter, who loves to help wrap presents anyway, really loved wrapping presents in paper she made herself.

I took some blank paper that came as packing material with a shipment I received this week (hence the wrinkled look) and some acrylic craft paint. Add unused snippets of boughs and a few of our tree blocks from Christmas trees past, and we went to work.

I just love the way the grain from the wood shows through the stamped paint!

Roo found that by rolling the log instead of stamping it on one end only, she could recreate the look of an entire tree trunk imprint:

Such a fun way to spend a morning: Christmas carols playing in the background, cookies baking away in the oven, and stamping our own gift wrap. This day turned out to be one of the few times this Christmas season I actually felt like we had captured a quintessential holiday moment! Even though my youngest wasn't willing to get his hands dirty, he directed his big sister as to where to stamp and generally enjoyed the process as a spectator-sport only.

The wrapped gifts, complete with bows and tags look just precious as they wait to be placed under the tree on Christmas Eve. I think that this just might become one of our new holiday traditions!

Fresh From the Oven...

2009-12-10T11:55:00.001-07:00

The past few weeks have brought a few opportunities our way for indulging in some home-baked sweets. A couple weeks back, we needed something to accompany our impromptu forest picnic after chopping down our Christmas tree. Apricot-pecan cinnamon rolls, hot cocoa, and clementine slices seemed just the thing for that occasion. Then, a few nights ago, we celebrated our anniversary by trimming the tree (our annual anniversary tradition). Cherry-chocolate cream cheese cinnamon rolls and hot cider filled our tummies while we filled our tree's branches with ornaments new and old. Such a sweet way to celebrate another year growing and learning as a couple and as a family!

Generally speaking, I make cinnamon rolls from scratch. The whole kneading, rising, kneading, and rising process may be more time consuming, but I think it produces better-tasting, tender rolls. But, since the two cinnamon roll-noshing occasions I mentioned above came at busy times of the year for us, I decided to use a shortcut.

I've been holding onto a magazine clipping for no-yeast/no-rise cinnamon rolls (I think it may have come from Southern Living mag). The results were better than expected. Even my Dad, who doesn't care for cinnamon rolls (how is that possible, right??), raved about them and had second helpings.

So, if you are looking for a quick recipe for Christmas morning goodies, or just want a sweet snack while curled up on the couch, give these a try. Here are the recipes for the two different versions, based on the same basic formula. I imagine you could really get creative and come up with your own combinations too.

Apricot-pecan Cinnamon Rolls:

1 pkg. frozen biscuits (12 count)
1 (6 oz.) pkg dried apricots
All-purpose flour
1/4 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 cup chopped pecans, toasted

Icing:
1 cup powdered sugar
3 Tbsp milk
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Arrange frozen biscuits, sides touching, on a lightly floured baking sheet in 3 rows of 4 each. Let stand 30-45 min. or until biscuits are thawed, but still cool to the touch.

Pour boiling water over the apricots and let stand 10 minutes (this makes the fruit nice and moist for baking. Don't skip this step!). Drain well and chop.

Pat the biscuits into a rectangle, pressing and pinching biscuit edges together.

Brush dough with softened butter. Stir together brown sugar and cinnamon; sprinkle over butter. Then sprinkle chopped pecans and apricots over the sugar mixture. My photo below shows the alternate recipe using cherries and chocolate, but the process is the same.

Roll up the dough, starting at one long end. Cut into 1-inch thick slices. Place rolls into a lightly greased 10-inch round pan or 9-inch square pan.

Bake at 375 for 35 min. or until just lightly browned. Cool slightly. When my cherry-chocolate rolls came out of the oven, they seemed lacking in chocolate, so I sprinkled on additional chips.

Stir together powdered sugar, milk, and vanilla. Drizzle over rolls. I do this step once when they first come out of the oven and then again after they have fully cooled. This way, the first application of icing melts right into the rolls and the second application leaves a nice thick coating that hardens on top. I like the extra sweetness and "gooeyness" of two doses of icing.

*For the Cherry-Chocolate Cream Cheese rolls: Prepare apricot-pecan rolls as directed, substituting 1/2 (8 oz.) pkg. cream cheese for 1/4 cup butter, 1 (6 oz.) pkg dried cherries for the dried apricots, and 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips for the pecans. These rolls are pictured at the top of this post, while the apricot-pecan ones are here:

These cinnamon rolls do not have the tender, yeast-like taste of traditional rolls. But, if you are short on time or just don't want the hassle of kneading and rising, these rolls still meet the sweet, home-baked goodness expectations most of us are looking for this time of year.

Things that go beep in the night...

2009-12-03T06:22:00.003-07:00

God is smiling right now. I know that He has a sense of humor because of what happened last night. I had the choice to either laugh or cry, so I chose to see the humor in it. Here it goes (Oh! And it's important to set the stage with this little tidbit: we have a vaulted ceiling in our bedroom. It's easily 15-17 feet high. I know you don't yet know why this fact is important, but you will soon):

My youngest child finds The Sandman to be his biggest foe. When the gentle Sandman cometh each and every night for every other child in the world, my son sees it has his chance to rebel and show off his freakish resilience to sleep. He fights it like it's the plague.

It is not at all uncommon for my son to sleep from 7 pm until 8 pm. One hour. One glorious, fleeting hour. Then, from 8 pm until midnight or 2 am, my husband and I take turns trying to coax our son back to sleep. (Oh how I wish I was exaggerating or embellishing here, but I'm not. Sadly, I am not). He often proceeds to wake again at 3 am, 4 am, and then he is usually up for the day around 5 am. There is lots of tossing and turning, flip-flopping around on the bed, screaming, crying, kicking, hair-pulling, and pushing. And let's not even discuss the antics on my son's behalf. {Just kidding. We don't kick or pull his hair. All the aggression is coming from him toward us during these nightly bouts. The poor little guy just hates to go to sleep. We practice peaceful parenting as much as humanly possible, but we do struggle to remain calm and patient come the 4 or 5 hour mark}.

Last night I had to do the whole bedtime routine solo. My husband had some important documents to print up, scan, and fax. So, he drove back to work to do those things. That left me to get both kiddos off to sleep. It's not a huge deal, but if Rascal puts up a fight, I'm on my own to deal with it.

Poor Roo, she waited patiently in her bed while I tried to get her brother to sleep. I told her I'd rub her back and belly once her brother was asleep. She fell asleep while waiting for me. :(

After one and a half hours of me nursing, singing, and patting Rascal in our bed, his eyes began to flutter closed. I waited another few minutes before I dared move my arm away from him, as he was curled up against it. I was almost ready to start celebrating my swift and successful sleep induction. Almost.

Then, approximately 11 seconds after he had officially nodded off (but while he was still in that easy-to-wake stage of early sleep), guess what happened? Go on, guess. I'm telling you that you will never guess because even I can't believe what happened and I was right there to witness it.

Wait for it...

The smoke detector began to chirp. You know that high-pitched chirp the detectors make every 30 seconds or so to warn you that the battery is low? It's an unbelievably loud and disturbing chirp when you are in a dark and quiet room listening to it. And I thought to myself, "Have we ever changed the battery in that thing?? Many a night I've laid awake in this bed for the last several years, looking up at that smoke detector. I've seen it's light blinking in the dark and often wondered just how long one battery could possibly last."

Well, it failed to last about 8 hours longer than I needed it to.

WHY couldn't it have waited until morning? Why couldn't it have started the warning chirps during the daytime, when the children were not using the room for nocturnal sleep? Why did it have to start now -- while my husband is gone and unable to fix it for me (vaulted ceiling, remember? Otherwise I would have fixed it myself).

Just for the record, to demonstrate how ridiculously uncanny the whole situation was, my husband has NEVER gone back to work late at night. He does not hold the kind of job that requires him to do any additional work once he gets home for the day. I remember once when he left his wallet at work, he didn't even drive back to work to get it. He just called and asked the guy that sits nearby to put the wallet in his desk until my husband could get it the next morning. My beloved never leaves me stranded at home in order to run back to work. Until last night.

So, having it MY way, I would have preferred for the chirping to start sometime over the long holiday weekend. When my husband was home for 4. straight. days. Looking for something to do. That would have been a good time to go out to the shed and get our rickety old ladder, maneuver it up our long, narrow staircase, move our queen-size bed out of the way, climb to the tippity top, perch himself precariously on the uppermost step, stretch his long arms up and still barely reach the smoke detector. But, instead, he had to do all of those things late at night. In the dark. After a super-exhausting day of work.

Oh, yes. I think God got a good little chuckle watching that scene play out in our bedroom last night.

And as for Rascal, he fell right back to sleep just as the sun was rising and his sister was waking and it was time for this tired Mama to get up and start her day. Does it count as "starting" a day when you never went to bed the night before?

Hanging the Advent Stockings

2009-12-01T19:43:00.003-07:00

I've finally done it. It was down to the wire, as usual, but I did it. I completed the Advent stockings and actually hung them up last night (or was it early this morning??). This little project has been in the works for almost four years now. Four years. But, better late than never, I say.

We've always had an Advent wreath on the table (and will continue to do so), but now that Roo is getting to the age when she is asking "How much longer until Christmas eve?" I thought it was high time I pushed myself to finish this craft. It's the Christmas "countdown" made visible.

I used a variety of winter/Christmas fabrics. I was so pleased to finally use some Superbuzzy fabric that I had been hoarding. I love Superbuzzy, but it can be pricey. When I use their fabric to sew clothes for the children, I always mourn the day when they outgrow the piece I made them (or stain it beyond saving). So to be able to work those particular fabrics into something that will never be outgrown or stained (I hope), but will be brought out year after year for this special time was such a pleasure!

Since this has been a tradition I have been hoping to implement for several years now, I've amassed pages and pages of stocking stuffer thoughts. I love the idea of filling the stockings with ideas for relishing the holiday season. This is certainly not an activity that has to focus on the material goodies stuffed inside (although, there will be some of that here and there). In fact, that is a trend I most definitely do not want to start with my little ones. That whole "expectation" thing is not on our agenda. With 24 stockings and two children, that would be 48 little gifts that I would have to dole out over the next few weeks. So, (ahem), that is not going to happen.

My plan is to use some of the things I would be doing anyway (giving new Christmas pj's, making a gingerbread house) and turning that into the "gift" tucked inside (a scroll tied with ribbon, explaining the special activity of the day. I will try to use as many symbols and drawings as I can since my children are not reading yet). For days when the gift is an actual present instead of an activity, and it is too big to put inside the stocking, then I will put a clue or series of clues in the stocking that will lead to where I've stashed the present. If it is something that I would be spending money or energy on anyway, why not include it as one of the 24 surprises? Plus, the great thing about young children is their genuine excitement over the simplest ideas.

I decided to go with removable tags on the individual stockings, noting the day (1-24). This was partly due to lack of time to sew or embellish each one with a number, and partly due to my urge to change things up year to year (or even within the current year). For instance, I don't always want Day 6 to be a huge stocking. Because what if I don't happen to have something on hand that is appropriately sized for Day 6? I want the freedom to change stocking sizes around to suit what I have planned for that particular day, year to year. Honestly, I am quite sure I will be scrambling a few times the night before, looking for just the right idea for the next day's stocking. So, if I need to change things around, I can.

Today, being December 1st (although the "real" Advent started Sunday), Roo peeped into the first stocking a found a polished stone in the shape of a heart. It symbolizes the love God has for us and the way my sweet little ones make my own heart swell with love.

I will be peppering my posts throughout this month with some of the plethora of ideas swirling inside my head. For the next few days, I have the following planned:

Day 2: Our Book Basket is currently sitting empty. It's time to break out the Winter books! Since we only have our seasonal books out for a short time, it's always a treat to see these old familiar friends again. I will be cutting my fair share of paper snowflakes tonight. When the children come downstairs in the morning, they will check the stocking for Day 2. Inside will be a scroll of paper telling them to look for the clues to the day's special activity (I will draw snowflakes on the paper or maybe I will tuck an actual paper snowflake into the stocking, thus prompting them to look for the snowflake's friends). Looking around, they will see and then follow the trail of snowflakes to the hiding place where I will stash our Winter storybooks. We will then fill our Book Basket with fresh titles and cozy up and read right after breakfast. {This activity falls under the category I talked about above: take something you would ordinarily do (drag the Winter books out of storage and read them) and make IT the stocking stuffer. Of course, adding a little fanfare (the snowflake trail) always helps! It costs nothing to do and makes the ordinary extra-ordinary}.

Day 3: Decorating our own wrapping paper. I have a few potatoes that I will cut into desired designs (here's hoping Roo chooses something simple!) and we will stamp blank paper with our painted potatoes. Even my youngest can participate. There's something so touching about a gift wrapped up in paper designed by sweet little hands.

Day 4: Set up our little snow village on the hearth. My daughter is just like me: she loves to arrange and rearrange things. In this case, it's the village of houses, bridges, barns, and figurines ice-skating and caroling. For me, this is basically a continuation of holiday decorating. But to my daughter, it's an EVENT. She will spend hours setting everything up just so!

That's all I have for tonight. I must get off to the craft room and work on a few presents. But, I have no shortage of ideas related to Advent stockings. So, check back if you're interested in hearing more. If you're not into Advent stockings this year (but you really should consider it for next year or down the road-- it really does help one slow down and savor the joys of this busy season), don't worry. I've got other topics to cover: food, books, and some craftiness.

Thanksgiving Weekend Recap

2009-11-29T21:13:00.002-07:00

My, we certainly had an eventful Thanksgiving holiday weekend around here. All parts were memorable, some for good reasons and some not.

The lowlights include: a too-late night brining the turkey, running to the overcrowded grocery store 4 or 5 times for "one last thing," trying to wedge a very large bird into the pan, setting off the smoke detectors (more than once), no naps, too many naps, teething, throwing up, renting a carpet cleaner, food poisoning (not from my Thanksgiving feast, in case you were wondering), cancelling long-awaited plans, rescheduling said plans, locking the keys in the car out in the middle of the forest.

However, I cannot forget the many blessings brought about this past weekend as well:

My little kitchen helper, fresh herbs in hand-- so excited to help prepare the meal!

"Painting" the turkey with oil, prior to roasting

Getting dressed up (Yes, she's wearing sandals. And yes, they are on the wrong feet)

Cocoa moustaches

Rock climbing

Sled rides, courtesy of Grandma

The peaceful stillness of the forest

Apricot-pecan cinnamon rolls

Family naps in the pillow house

Hope you all had an enjoyable and restful weekend with your dear ones. I'll be back soon with some recipes and Christmas crafting updates!

The Fall Book Basket--Fashionably Late

2009-11-22T20:11:00.001-07:00

Oh, yes I do realize that Thanksgiving is this week and I'm just now churning out my book basket selections for autumn. But, perhaps, if you are one of those people trying to stay in the present season and not fast-forward to winter and Christmas, this list might be of interest to you. [If you happen to be in winter/Christmas mode already, very soon I'll have book basket selections to fit those categories. So, sit tight!].

Our first book basket contender is Three Pebbles and a Song by Eileen Spinelli. I first read this charming story to Roo several years ago. It's so very similar to Leo Lionni's Frederick, but worth reading for a new twist on the classic fable. The mice featured in Three Pebbles are so cute wearing their calico and lace (suspenders for the boys) and scuttling about preparing for the coming winter. The illustrations of their cozy little home makes you want to hop right into the book's pages and snuggle up! While Moses the mouse is encouraged to gather supplies to sustain the family for winter, Moses gets easily distracted by the swirling leaves and the "whistle-y" song of the wind. In the end, although Moses never did get around to gathering his share of food and warm rags to help his family stock up for the cold months ahead, he was able to contribute a few things that were just as important as the "essentials." A great message about how the sum of the parts equal the whole, just as true in families as in mathematics!

Fletcher and the Falling Leaves has been a favorite around our house for a few years running. We have a soft spot for foxes, and especially compassionate little ones like Fletcher. In this story, Fletcher becomes very concerned when his tree friend starts losing his leaves. Fletcher tries to "save" his friend by putting the leaves back on the tree's limbs. But, to no avail. However, the beautiful surprise awaiting Fletcher at the end of the book teaches him (and us) that there is beauty to be found in every season of life.

A Bear for All Seasons is not just a book about autumn. It covers all four seasons beautifully.
The illustrations are so comforting and capture all of the changes (both big and small) that accompany winter, spring, summer, and fall.

The fox (yes, another fox. I told you we love our fox friends in these parts) in the story is telling his friend Bear what he loves (and doesn't love) about each season. As he listens to Fox describing the highs and lows of each, Bear is convinced that he's decided which season is his favorite, only to change his mind again and again. While reading it, I'm always struck with the thought, "Oh, yes! I love that too!" Funny how easily you can forget what you enjoy until someone else points it and and reminds you. In the end we learn that, whatever the season, the gift of friendship helps us weather it all.

Of course, no book basket list would be complete without the works of Gerda Muller. I just had to add Autumn to our collection after having bought Spring and Summer (and last month I went ahead and ordered Winter because you can't have a proper seasonal collection of only three of the four seasons, can you?)

We enjoy this series by Muller so much. It seems a bit odd at first to "read" a book without words. But the trick is to have fun with it and make up new stories each time. These board books were some of the first books I noticed Rascal picking up and flipping through on his own. That is really saying something, because Rascal rarely sits still to look at anything.
But something about these books just drew him in. I do think they really opened his eyes to how fun books can be to just gaze at and soak up the beauty of the illustrations.

Honorable Mentions include:

Hurry, Hurry Mary Dear - My daughter enjoys this story and we read it daily during the autumn months. I'm not sure if she's drawn to it because it shows all the domestic complexities involved in readying for winter (very few of which she witnesses in our own home) or the way she gives her demanding and idle husband his due at the end of the story. Regardless, it's a quick and fun read and certainly opens the door for dialogue about fall duties around the home (like putting up jam and knitting warmies). Plus, for the littlest ones, it's fun to spot the black cat in the various scenes.

In November by Cynthia Rylant. When I first introduced this book to my family last year, I was the only one who liked it. Roo would always oblige and read it with me, but it was never the book she chose from the basket. This year, she seems better able to appreciate the gorgeous paintings and the poetic, descriptive text. I still think I enjoy it more than anyone else in the house, but that's okay. I used to often read children's books to myself, long before I ever had children of my own. So, if your children don't take to this story, maybe you can curl up on the couch and read it after they're in bed!

So that, in a nutshell (ha-ha. Couldn't resist sneaking a little autumn humor in there), is what we have sitting in our Fall Book Basket. I'm sure you'll have no problem checking them out from your local library, as it seems everyone has moved on to checking out Thanksgiving and Christmas stories (at least that's been the case at our library).

Birds of a feather...

2009-11-12T11:34:00.002-07:00

I know I've mentioned in the past that I inherited a love of birds from my grandma. I am always scouting out the yard, hoping to catch a new bird visiting the feeder. Well, lately, the corncob feeder that I keep hung up for our squirrel friends has attracted a bluejay couple and one very large woodpecker. The squirrels, being so eager and so messy, drop more corn on the ground than they get into their mouths. All this corn littered on the ground has caused a flurry of bird activity.

Here's a blurry photo of a bluejay (I was in such a rush to capture this quick and lively new visitor!) Yes, I realize that bluejays are hardly a rare sighting for most people (my sister told me she sees a half dozen or so at a time in her yard), but they are not at all commonplace in my backyard.

One day last week, I had been snapping and spying the jays and the woodpecker just beyond our back door all morning long. So distracted I was, I realized Rascal was overdue for his nap. So, up we went.

While nestled in bed, tummy to tummy with my little man, I had birds on my mind. Ten or so minutes later, as Rascal was still nursing but definitely heading toward dreamland, I heard a bird song I had never heard before. Had the new blue jay couple brought along another new friend?? Oh, I couldn't wait to go downstairs and see!

Another 30 seconds or so later, I heard ANOTHER new bird call! "It figures!" I thought to myself. While I am away from the window and without my camera, brand new birds are visiting my feeder! And I'm missing it! I looked down at Rascal, who was taking his sweet time drifting off to deep sleep. "Come on, buddy! Please fall asleep sooooon. I want to go see these new birds before they leave. Please, little guy: go. to. sleep. Okay?? Oh, good! His eyes are closed, he's letting go of my arm...almost there!" I hoped by sending him my subliminal thoughts, I could lure him to sleep more quickly.

By the time Rascal was asleep enough for me to creep slowly away from him and head for the door, I had heard 6 or 7 new bird calls emanating from downstairs. I was more than a little skeptical that I could possibly have so many new bird visitors all of the sudden. Skeptical, but still hopeful!

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, camera in hand, I discovered the source of the plentiful tweeting. Mystery solved:

Ah ha. Some little person had found mama's bird book and had been flipping through it and pressing the bird call button again and again and again. Got to give props to The Backyard Birdsong Guide for reproducing authentic, high quality sound! Of course, I should have known when I heard the red-tailed hawk squawking that it was unlikely to be the real deal. Our tiny yard probably isn't prime hunting territory for such a bird. But it sure was fun to imagine. That's one of the best things about this bird-watching hobby-- the possibility factor is always there!

Good Morning, Mister Sun

2009-11-06T20:51:00.001-07:00

Good morning, merry sunshine,

How did you wake so soon?

You've scared the little stars away,

And shined away the moon.

I saw you go to sleep last night,

Before I ceased my playing,

How did you get way over there,

And where have you been staying?

"I never go to sleep, dear child,

I just go round to see

My little children of the East,

Who rise and watch for me.

I waken all the birds and bees,

And flowers on my way,

And now come back to see the child

Who stayed out late to play."

-Anonymous

-From "Eloise Wilkin's Poems to Read to the Very Young"

I feel a bit odd posting these pictures when temps around here have been in the 70's, but indulge me, if you will, in a few last photos from our recent snowstorm.

It was early one morning, last week, when I was changing Rascal's diaper on the changing table upstairs in our bedroom. He was chuckling to himself and saying, "Hi. Hi. Hi." Smiling, I glanced down at him and noticed his cherubic little face bathed in a rosy glow. He was focusing intently on the light filtering through the crack between the curtain and window shade and the window itself. His hand was outstretched as he was trying to "catch" the beam of light. I realized he wasn't saying "Hi" to me, but to the light streaming in.

The window in the bedroom nearly runs from floor to ceiling, so it wasn't long before the entire bedroom was filled with golden hues. I rolled up the shade and pulled back the curtain, and then I beheld one of the most peaceful and serene sights: a peaches-and-cream sunrise over a magical blanket of white.

The children and I just sat in the window and marveled at all the little tiny ice crystals hanging from the branches. We etched designs in the frost on the windowpane. Mere minutes later, the pinks and purples faded into bright blue sky. That little window of sunrise is so small, that to catch it before it fades to day is such a treat!
After we headed downstairs, I caught another glimpse out our patio door and couldn't believe how the sun was making such quick work of melting the snow off these tender tree top branches.

I just love the quiet that fills the air the morning after a big snow. That sort of quiet that is almost deafening, if you know what I mean. The kind that nudges the negative thoughts and weighted-down feelings out of the way and, instead, fills your head and your senses with crisp 'n' clean freshness! Other than sleeping in, starting my morning out with the rise of the sun is my favorite way to start the day.

A Winter Wonderland

2009-10-30T08:13:00.001-06:00

We have been enjoying the majestic display of (an early) King Winter these past few days. This morning Rascal and I were up very early and he sat mesmerized while looking out the front door. The wind was howling (hence the blurry photo below -- this time it was not due to my poor photography skills!), causing the "pit pat tap" sound of the snow hitting the glass.

After sunrise, the weather was still fierce, but everything seems so much better in the daylight, doesn't it?

{We even spotted this little village of winter chalets peaking out from the drifts of snow!}

Luckily our feathered friends were warm in their nests, rather than spending any time in this drafty ol' place:

However, a few days ago, we were between snowstorms and we went outside to make a few snow sculptures. Armed with colored water and measuring spoons, eye droppers, squeeze bottles, and mini spray bottles we had a blast coloring the fresh snow:

My husband even made sure to help the little one make some snowballs to freeze (my husband said that they used to keep the snowballs in the freezer until summertime! What a fun tradition that must have been). We, however, are very short on freezer space, so I think I will just let our littles take a snowball or two into the next hot bath they take. Watching it melt away should provide much fun and plenty of giggles, I think.
Each Friday, The Magic Onions hosts Friday's Nature Table. Go there to read about what others are doing to soak up some nature love!

Snow Day

2009-10-28T20:33:00.002-06:00

With another snowy day comes another opportunity to get in the kitchen and bake. Fall and winter are really the only times I feel a pull toward baking. While I do enjoy cooking for the most part, I don't really get into the baking swing until the weather demands it. Cookies, cobblers/crisps, muffins, apple cider doughnuts --- these don't generally make an appearance until days like today.

So, I thought it was the perfect time to make the sugar cookie recipe that appears at the end of this book we've been reading quite frequently:

It's such a cute story: all about a girl and her animal friends speculating what the moon is made of: cat thinks it's milk, butterfly thinks it's sugar, mouse thinks it is made of billowy clouds of flour. And if you add all the ideas together in a bowl (which they do at the end of the story), the end result is a warm sugar cookie.

So, while I added each ingredient, we thought back on the story and I asked Roo, "Now who thought the moon was made of a pat of butter?" etc. as I went along. She remembered every single one (not that I would have known the difference, unless I really gave it some thought -- my memory seems to be disappearing faster than these sugar cookies have today!). I love it when a story can be tied into an activity like this one. It's a great chance for my girl to flex her skills of comprehension and recollection. Plus, it's just fun to turn a story into a real life experience. Especially an edible experience!

Here are the "moon" sugar cookies which we turned into Halloween cookies. The shapes are somewhat ambiguous, so I'll tell you what we have: a cat, pumpkin, ghost, and bat.
The icing turned out a subtle orange, which I prefer as opposed to that garish neon-orange frosting you see on some store-bought goodies this time of year.
Sadly, it's after baking cookies like these, that I realize we don't have cookie decorations on hand. Thus explaining the Christmas tree and red/white sprinkles on the center cookie. The others have a dusting of unsweetened cocoa powder which gives them a nice flavor since the cookie itself and the powdered sugar icing are sooo sweet. My daughter didn't even question the use of Christmas cookie sprinkles, she was just happy to decorate them (and eat one, of course!).

To balance out the sugar, I served a carrot and apple salad for lunch alongside some cashews and almonds. Then I made this yummy pasta salad for a light dinner:

It's very heavy on the veggies (here I used cucumber, carrot, tomato, green bell pepper, and roasted red bell peppers from a jar), which is one of the only ways we can get the amount we should in a day. I like to think of the pasta noodles as more of a "condiment," rather than the main ingredient in a salad like this.

As I usually do, I had some way overcooked, grilled chicken. I had sprinkled some chicken breasts with Montreal steak seasoning and left them to cook in a skillet. Then I went off to play with the kids, fold laundry, sort through some winter gear, etc. In other words, I totally forgot about the chicken and it was dry, dry, dry. Which, I have to say, normally I prefer dry chicken because then I know it's fully cooked. My family jokes because I am the only person they know who complains when chicken or turkey is too moist!

So, I've found that the perfect use for overcooked chicken is a pasta salad. The Italian dressing manages to seep into even the driest cuts of meat and make it moist again. Of course it's best when you have a few hours to let it chill and the flavors meld together. Not exactly a warming or comforting dinner for such a cold day, but I think the cookies fill that void nicely.

Today, Inside. Today, Outside.

2009-10-21T19:31:00.001-06:00

While the blustery winds blew and big, fat snowflakes fell from the sky, we got busy warming up our tummies with some home-cooked yummies: chicken tortilla soup (which simmered in the crock-pot all day, wafting through the house every time I lifted the lid to stir) and oatmeal cookies (some with walnuts, some with raisins, and some with both. Unfortunately, we were out of chocolate chips or we would have definitely tossed those in too).

Oddly enough, the last time I did an Inside/Outside post, I included pictures of oatmeal cookies and the current weather conditions from the back porch (the lid of the sandbox, to be exact). These posts under Inside/Outside are supposed to be snippets of little moments worth remembering. I KNOW that our memorable moments cannot be summed up in thoughts of oatmeal cookies and our sandbox, but apparently that's where we find our pleasures lately. :)

Today wasn't our first snowfall of the season, but it was the first time it snowed all day without ceasing. Surprisingly, it didn't amount to much of anything on the ground. But, it was very chilly and crisp and beautiful.

We didn't get out of our pj's all day. Instead we baked, read mountains of books, and built igloos out of couch cushions and throw pillows. I just love days like today.

Poor Little Fella

2009-10-20T16:18:00.002-06:00

Sunday was such a beautiful, warm (too warm if you ask me, it is October, after all!) day that we took a walk along the canal path. Roo chose to ride her bike.

While peddling ever-so-slowly up a hill, Roo was looking down at the sidewalk. Suddenly she stopped her bike and said, "Betcha that ant didn't like THAT very much."

My husband stopped walking and asked, "Uh-oh. Did you run over an ant?" {He was mentally preparing himself, thinking she might be on the verge of tears of anguish}.

He was relieved when Roo just chuckled and said, "He's probably never seen a big ol' bike tire before!!"

Um, no. And he never will again.

Autumn Nature Walk Bracelets

2009-10-16T08:00:00.002-06:00

Oh, I know I'm not alone, because I've been reading the same sentiment on many other blogs, but I have to say that I love the crisp, clean feeling of autumn. I find that "fresh start" feeling that I get in the springtime, also applies to fall. Maybe I feel like the cool breezes are sweeping away all the unwanted "stuff" from my life, and preparing for me a fresh, clean slate. There's just something about pulling out the fuzzy wool sweaters and chunky cable-knits. When pulling on a pair of jeans just feels right, rather than too heavy or a bit much (as jeans often feel, even at the tail-end of summer). It's the time of year when I look for recipes that keep me in the kitchen, versus the quickest/no-bake recipe I can find during the summer months. Fall also marks the beginning of the whirlwind holiday season, which I love. Regardless, this season brings contentment to my heart.

It seems that at this lovely time of year, we just can't spend enough time out of doors. So, we did what any self-respecting, autumn-loving family would do: we went on an impromptu picnic. One of my favorite things about these outings when it's just the four of us, is that we have absolutely no agenda. If Roo wants to climb on the rocks for half an hour (and she did), we can stop and watch her enjoy that (and climb too, for that matter -- which we did). If Rascal wants to scrawl in the dirt with a stick, we can do that. We have no destination or "point B" that we are trying to reach. It really does become all about the journey.

Making nature walk bracelets has become a favorite activity on our picnics and hikes. Roo really enjoyed making wildflower bracelets like this one during our summer outings. So now that we are in this glorious new season, we made another bracelet to showcase fall's offerings.

While our summer nature bracelets were bursting with purples, pinks, and greens, these nature bracelets took on the warm, rosy tones of fall. It was fun to add interesting seed pods and other dried bits that one only finds on nature walks this time of year.

And of course, one of the loveliest things about these nature bracelets is their simplicity. When something is constructed of mere masking tape and anything that a little one spots on the ground, there's no limit to the number of bracelets that can be made during a single outing. Which is a good thing, because once Roo made me a "pretty" (and photo-worthy) bracelet, she wanted to make one out of dead bugs and rocks (don't worry, I spared you the photo of that one!).

After constructing a few bracelets, we were off to explore. Having no plan or destination was so freeing. We just followed the little one as she meandered up one path and down another. With her walking stick in hand, she was ready to play tour-guide. Speaking of walking sticks, am I the only mother who is paranoid about her child putting an eye out with one of those things?? Even after snapping off the sharp end and warning her that she must only walk while holding the stick, I was worried. Because, as most 4-year-olds are apt to do, she would forget to walk and break into a run. I can't blame her, as she was just giddy with the fresh air and open spaces! I'm thinking of making a slit in a tennis ball and slipping it onto the end (near her face, not the end pointing toward the ground, just to clarify) of the next walking stick she finds.
Then maybe I can relax and enjoy the hike a little more, instead of repeatedly saying, "Walk, please" and "Do you want Mama to hold that stick for awhile?"

The patches of gold were so bright against the backdrop of blue sky, it looked as if there was a fluorescent bulb glowing behind each individual leaf! Truly a lovely way to spend the day. We will try to get out there as much as possible before the weather turns. Although, when the time comes, I'm sure we can find some unique additions to our winter nature bracelets as well. Go check out The Magic Onions for more nature discoveries and fun activities.

The 12 Weeks of Christmas, Reduced by Half

2009-10-14T20:55:00.000-06:00

Oh my. It is now mid-October and I realized that I've been seriously slacking on my Christmas preparations. Just this week, two hopeful souls googled "12 Weeks of Christmas" and stumbled upon my site. Sadly, they probably read the lone post that I have dedicated to that topic, and moved on. Sorry about having absolutely nothing that would fall in the realm of helpful, folks.

I now have just 6'ish remaining weeks if I want to finish Christmas to-do's by my deadline. I really want this to be the year that I am sitting by the fire, sipping cocoa, watching Christmas movies and gazing at the tree lights from December 1st through the 24th. I do not want a to-do list hanging over my head while I am trying to immerse myself in some Christmas spirit. If there's anything that douses my holiday spirit, it is waiting in line at the post office, writing Christmas cards late into the night, and jockeying for position in the too-crowded, too-narrow baking aisle at the grocery store.

So, since we cannot control things like sudden illness and insomniac babies throwing a wrench into the works of the finely-tuned Christmas machine that I hoped I would be this year, let's just get on with the time we have left, shall we?

{My husband thought it was odd to have a photo about Christmas planning, all the while a pumpkin and fall nature tray sit in the background. As I explained to him, "The operative word here is 'planning.' And Christmas planning can never start too soon." }
For me, it all starts with the planning (heehee. Go figure, right? Anyone who knows me, knows that I love to plan and make lists. Execution of said lists is optional). I like to set the mood with Christmas music, something hot and yummy to sip, and "The Notebook." Yep, it's in caps and quotes because it is that vital to my preparations.

"The Notebook" is a binder that I decorated long ago with batting and Christmas fabric. Being pretty as well as functional is a prerequisite. Inside is every magazine clipping, printed Word document (made up of hundreds of ideas from the internet that I copied and pasted), and random thought I have ever jotted down that was related to Christmas. Every year I try to sort through the pages and toss out ideas that are unlikely to ever make the cut. But, every year, hope springs eternal, and I never throw away any of the ideas that are crammed inside that poor, weakened binder. "Maybe next year," I say as I look at how to make a miniature replica of the North Pole, complete with flying reindeer.

This binder also contains forms galore: budgeting, menu planning, decorating, online ordering, to-make, to-buy, holiday traditions (new and old), cards sent and received, receipts/tracking numbers, etc. etc. Forms, forms, forms! Ah, I love it. Many forms I downloaded from here and here, but some I drew up myself and photocopied.

I am the kind of person that gets overwhelmed when presented with too much information. Especially if it's information on a topic I am passionate about: such as, oh, let's say...Christmas. So I will try to show some restraint, and spare you the little details of my "planning plans," as I call them. They consist of lists within lists of what I am planning to plan to do. If that makes any sense. What I consider to be essential, however, may not be what you consider a holiday "'must." That's one of the great things about Christmas though, isn't it? What makes it special is unique to each individual and family.

Therefore, I think I will share some of the things that may have broad appeal: things that I'm making this year, some crafts for the kiddos, recipes, and any other cute bits I feel a need to throw in. But, before I can do those things, I need to sit down with my "Notebook" and my laptop and scour my resources. After I devise my plan for 2009, I'll be getting to work. Hopefully, I will have something accomplished by next week, and I'll show it here: the spot for my newly titled, "6 Weeks of Christmas." ;)

"Don't You Love New York in the Fall?"

2009-10-11T22:09:00.000-06:00

"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."

Those are some of my favorite lines from one of my all-time favorite movies, "You've Got Mail." Yes, fall is here and that means it's time for what's become one of the most anticipated of fall traditions: the annual viewing of "You've Got Mail" with a dear friend of mine.

The must-have's for such an event: comfy clothes, comfort food, and a cozy couch. My friend and hostess leaves no detail overlooked. She thinks of everything (and I mean everything):

*Warm and inviting ambiance? Check.

*Well-thought out menu, guaranteed to soothe and satisfy? Check.

*Pillows, throw blankets at-the-ready, and fall-scented candles? Check.

*Plenty of laughter and good conversation before, during (thank goodness

for the "pause" button), and after the movie? Check. Check. Check.

We take our tradition very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that neither one of us will watch the movie outside of that annual October day. This involves quick reflexes and discipline (because, hello, it's cuteness and humor make it a hard movie to pass up) to flip channels quickly, should one of us come across a showing of "You've Got Mail" on TV (which invariably happens, as this movie always seems to be popping up somewhere).

I can't tell you how much I look forward to being a guest at J's home. She makes every visitor feel like royalty. And yet, at the same time, she makes every visitor feel like family. That's a hard balance to strike, but she manages with ease to do so.

Isn't it a blessing to find someone with whom everything "clicks?" A friendship that evolves and sustains itself naturally and easily? It's such a gift to talk to someone who knows and understands your thoughts without you needing to say anything. Of course, we never manage to stay silent when we're together. For me, she's one of those friends that I could talk to 3 times per day and never run out of things to say. My husband doesn't understand how I can talk to J over the phone for an hour, when I'm going to be seeing her in person the very next day. And then, after seeing her, I can have a "re-cap" conversation with her for another hour over the phone. "You just saw her for 3 hours yesterday!! What more could you possibly have to say??" he says to me in exasperation. {No, he doesn't really get exasperated. I know that he's happy I have such a good friend. Plus, it takes the pressure off him having to listen to me chatter away so much!}.

One of God's greatest gifts is the gift of family. It's a special thing indeed when you find a friend that feels like family. So, treasure your family and those true friends that fall in that inner circle. This journey in life is so much more precious and fun when you share it with those near and dear to your heart.

And while I'm thinking of it, does anyone know of any good movies to kick off the other seasons of the year? J and I were thinking of starting a spring or summer movie tradition, but haven't come up with any movies synonymous with winter, spring, or summer. Suggestions, please?? Even if you don't know of any "seasonal" movies, any particular movies that are better watched with girlfriends than husbands/boyfriends? (I know my husband has ruined many a "chick-flick" with his eye-rolling, sighs, and "Oh, brother" comments!)

Botanical Goodness

2009-10-09T09:24:00.001-06:00

While we normally choose cost-free nature outings, this time we splurged and headed to the botanic gardens. And splurge we did: breakfast and lunch in the different cafes and picnic stands, plus the admission fees gave my husband sticker shock. But it was so worth it, as we got a chance to see so many green, wondrous things we don't have growing in our own backyard:

It never fails to warm my heart to see the way she naturally takes him under her wing. Such a protective and nurturing big sister. At home, when he's tearing down her block towers and cities, it's an entirely different relationship, however!

Bees were everywhere, naturally. On a typical day, the sight of so many bees would be met with shrieking and tears, but Roo was so absorbed in the vast beauty and newness of her surroundings that she didn't even mention the bees (so, wisely, we didn't either).

Normally, Roo stays very close to us when we are in a new setting. But, in this magical place she was constantly bounding ahead, saying,"I wonder what's around that bend? I can't wait to go see. Come on, Mommy!" A few times she strayed a bit too far and nearly took a few innocent bystanders out in her excitement to discover where the path would lead.

We got many, many chuckles and smiles from the other visitors as we passed by them on the paths. They could hear Roo breathlessly telling us to hurry along because we just won't believe what she found around the next corner, "So unbe-WEEvable and a-MAZing!"

Instead of just stumbling upon the next section of the garden, I love how they created an unusual and beautiful entrance.

I told my husband that I'd like to lay a path like the stone one above: that winds around a luscious and bountiful garden at our "someday" home. He glanced at the path, glanced at me, and suggested a rustic, dirt path instead. Hmmn...I think I will take his lack of confidence in my abilities as a challenge. Stay tuned.

While Roo went off exploring with Daddy, I looked for a quiet, out-of-the-way place to nurse Rascal. He had missed his first nap of the day already, and now he was long-overdue for his second nap. To say he was cranky would be an understatement of gargantuan proportions. He and I came across this literal tunnel of vegetation. I liken it to something you would see in an enchanted forest. Beautiful and so secluded. It was much longer and darker than the picture below would have you believe.

As I was coming upon this tree, I thought the trunk was painted green and orange. But, no, it is called Lacebark Pine. Needless to say, I have much to learn.

Don't these look like champagne flutes ready for filling?

Lobster-lovers that we are, I couldn't resist snapping a photo of these lovelies.

All in all, a beautiful and serene way to wile away an Indian Summer kind of day (well, minus the missed naps and subsequent crying--but a small price to pay for the experience). I'm so glad we took time to take in the beauty before the snow hit (as I type this, it is a sleeting/blustery wonderland out there). I noticed a fun Friday "Nature Gathering" of sorts going on at The Magic Onions, so I'm joining in. Stop by there and check out the other "un-beWEEvable" nature experiences!

A Day Full of Blessings

2009-10-03T22:03:00.004-06:00

A magnificent autumn day was the backdrop to a momentous family celebration: my parents celebrated their 45th wedding anniversary today. Rightly, we filled the day with all things good: reminiscing, eating (lots of eating: with crab-stuffed mushrooms, a hearty and tender roast with buttered noodles and oven-roasted veggies, red wine, Boston cream pie and Irish coffee -- how could we not stuff ourselves??), laughing, playing in the leaves, sharing homemade cards and handwritten poems, and presenting gifts that could never rival the gift that my parents have given us: a living example of true commitment and everlasting love.

A beautiful day to celebrate love and a beautiful day to celebrate Autumn's arrival. The joy was positively contagious! Of course, watching sweet little ones reveling in the leaf piles will bring smiles every time.

Swinging on the swing is always a favorite. But swinging on a swing right through a huge pile of leaves is an experience not to be missed! All the hard work of raking...

...for a sweet reward!

All afternoon, while listening to constant happy chatter and giggles that could not be contained, I glanced around me and realized that there was a blessing of one kind or another everywhere I looked: in the bright blue sky, simmering on the stove, sitting around the dinner table, digging in the sandbox, crunching through the leaves. Enveloped by God's sweetness and goodness, I couldn't think of a more perfect day. It is such a satisfying feeling to go to bed after a day well-spent: we wrung out every drop of delight from the day we were given. Such a good, good feeling.

Painting with Marbles

2009-09-30T21:03:00.001-06:00

If you are looking for a mess-free way to incorporate painting into your preschooler's week, I have just the thing: marble paintings. They are fun, easy, and the results are quite lovely.

We love painting around here. And, usually, I am a good sport when it comes to the messes that inevitably come along for the painting ride. Lately, however, I've been trying to conserve my energy for little things like feeding my family and basic hygiene. Enter the marble paintings. This technique allows my daughter an outlet for working with paint, but requires minimal set-up or clean-up on my behalf. Win-win, I'd say.

First, find a shallow box (a shoe box is fine, even a pizza box lid would work here. But do try to keep the box size manageable for your child to hold). Place a blank piece of paper in the box. Round up some marbles and paint (we used tempera).

You can either squirt the paint into individual cups, as we did, or you can paint the marbles with the desired paint. As I mentioned, I wanted a relatively mess-free experience, so we opted for paint cups.

Drop your marble into the paint and swirl it around to coat the entire surface of the marble. Then remove from the paint (we used 2 forks, to drain the excess paint and to keep fingers clean) and drop onto the paper. Pick up the box and tilt it side to side, forward and back. Go on, really give it a good wiggle! The marble makes a neat trail as it rolls around on the paper.

Once the paint has worn off the marble and it stops leaving much of a trail, you can re-dip it in the same color or move on to the next marble and the next color (this is assuming you are meticulously neat and have one marble per paint color, and go to great lengths to keep them separate, as we did. Well, I did, anyway).

As we did painting after painting, my daughter pretty much scrapped the 2-fork method of removing excess paint and used her fingers instead. She really got a kick out of plopping a heavily-coated marble on the paper. It made such a pleasing "plop" and puddle of paint in that spot before being rolled around the box.

Children love doing a familiar activity in a new way. It's fun to take paint and use objects other than a paint brush or fingers to make a picture. We've experimented with using combs, forks, sponge pieces, etc. and get different (but great) results every time.

Fresh from the Library: Books with an Autumn Theme

2009-09-28T22:21:00.002-06:00

As usual, I changed the books in the sidebar, but have been pokey about writing a post about the new finds. Now that Fall is officially here, we thought some autumn-themed books were in order. So, here are the latest books to make the journey from the library to our home:

This book is fresh and fun. The illustrations are very "folksy" and mostly black and vanilla, with touches of red and yellow. Very eye-catching to my little ones. The tale itself runs along the lines of "The House That Jack Built," one line building upon another and another, previous lines repeated after a new line is added. Cumulative text, I think they call it. I know that makes absolutely no sense. But it doesn't matter because it's a delightful read. Go check it out. My daughter loves that the little girl and her Papa shared the pie with the animals at the end (she was quite worried, as we were reading along, that the animals would be forgotten). My son likes to point out the sneaky fox and the cat on the pages (and the cat is hiding in the tree eating pie on the last page, which my son finds amusing. Not sure why, but whom am I to question the sense of humor of a one year old?).
Hush! A Thai Lullaby: this was a favorite of Roo's a few years back (my, has it really been years?) and I thought Rascal would enjoy it. He did. But I'd have to say Roo enjoyed the encore presentation the most.

There's something so appealing about this story (For me, that is. My husband detests this book). The bright, contrasting illustrations are lively without being overstimulating. I like the fact that they feature some unusual backyard creatures making less traditional, but more accurate animal sounds: the pig says, "uut, uut" instead of "oink" and the frog says "op, op" instead of "ribbit."

The story line is one I know well: a mother trying to keep all noises to a minimum in order for her sleeping boy to stay a sleeping boy. Well, while she encounters one noisy critter after another, her mischievous little toddler has awakened and is monkeying around the hut, having a blast. My daughter likes to point out on each page what particular mischief the little boy is getting into (and noticing when his antics mirror that of the particular animal the mother is trying to quiet: for example, the baby is swinging by his arms from a beam, while the mother is pleading with a monkey in the trees to hush).

Maybe what appeals to me the most is the ironic truth running through the pages: the mother tries her hardest to quiet the noises in the environment to make it as sleep-inducing as possible for her babe. And then, after all that commotion and expended energy, she finally retreats to bed (although "bed" for her really isn't bed, but a windowsill on which to lay her head. Also sounding way too familiar to me) herself. Then, just as she's nodding off, the baby is WIDE awake. At least, that's the way it goes around our house.

Sheesh! That's a lot to say about a single book. And, frankly, I'm feeling wiped out. We did manage to pick up a few others, but I think I'll just list them and add a quick note or two!

Pumpkin Moonshine: To be honest, my first thought was that this was about underground whiskey-making. Really. Maybe I've just watched too many Little House on the Prairie episodes. That ol' Mister Edwards and his moonshine, you know. Anyway, it is actually a cute little Halloween tale written and illustrated by Tasha Tudor, the works of whom I absolutely adore.

Leaves: My husband says that this is just a shorter version of Fletcher and the Falling Leaves (which I will discuss another day because it is one of the selections in our Autumn Book basket). I agree that there are similarities: there is a young animal (in this case, a bear. In Fletcher, it's a fox) who grows concerned when he sees leaves falling off the trees. In both stories, they try to put the leaves back on the trees, to no avail. In Leaves, the bear hibernates in his leaf-filled cave and when he wakes in Spring, he thinks the new buds are there to welcome him from his long winter's nap. In Fletcher, the young fox discovers that bare trees can be just as beautiful as those clad in yellow and orange leafy-goodness. Both books sweet additions to your Fall reading list.

Could I BE wearing any more clothes??

2009-09-24T19:44:00.002-06:00

Just a side note: Does anyone out there recall the "Friends" episode when Joey puts on all of Chandler's clothes at one time?? This totally reminded me of that one. Classic.

They say that laughter is the best medicine, and I must say that stumbling upon Roo playing dress up with the clothes in the laundry basket made me forget every ill moment from the last few weeks (heck, maybe even the last few years). I laughed until I cried.

Apparently, digging through the clothes basket (at least they were clean) for outfit assembly has become a popular activity for her lately. Too much time to kill while Mama napped, me thinks.

I love that she's getting to that oh-so-fun dress-up age. I was the Queen of dress-up when I was young. I recall asking permission from my Mom to play in her closet every day for a huge segment of my growing-up years. The shoes, scarves, gauzy blouses, hats, gloves, jewelry -- oh, it was pure heaven to me as I created and paraded around in my mini masterpieces! And when my Mom indulged me in taking a few photos of the ensembles of which I was most proud? Well, it made me feel so important that my Mom would "waste" actual film (as it was in those days) to capture my creations.

So when I saw Roo all dolled up in underwear, tube socks (as leg warmers and elegant elbow-length gloves), pants as hats, and long-sleeve shirts turned into tights, I just had to snap a few. And then a few more.

Oh my. I think I may have created a monster: I didn't even ask her for a pose! Looks like a dress up box filled with treasures is on the agenda for Christmas this year.

The Things We Take For Granted

2009-09-23T16:14:00.004-06:00

I think we've all heard the words. And, if you're like me, you've probably rolled your eyes after hearing them. The past year and a half has dealt to us much struggle and disappointment (along with countless blessings too, I must add. Can't forget about those blessings!). At times, it bordered on unreal, as things spiraled down and down until you couldn't possibly ever believe the spiraling would stop. Many well-meaning family and friends (and even casual observers of our situation) would shake their heads and say with a smile, "At least you have your health." Cue: eye roll, please.

Apparently, when all else is in the proverbial toilet, one is supposed to take comfort in the fact that one's health is above average. Always seemed like a trite and flimsy viewpoint. Even a little insulting. Not anymore. I will never again roll my eyes upon hearing those words. There is nothing trite about it. Health matters.

There's nothing trite about wanting to read storybooks to your children, but you can't because your vision is blurry and you're too weak to hold the book open.

There's nothing trite about wanting to fix your family breakfast, but you can't because standing up makes the room spin and you start throwing up.

There's nothing trite about wanting to give your kids a bath, but you can't because you haven't found the strength to shower yourself in nearly 3 days.

There's nothing trite about wanting to comfort your crying baby, but you can't because any sound that hits your ear makes you cringe in unspeakable pain.

There's nothing trite about wanting to listen to your child excitedly tell you about her trip to the store, but you can't because your system is so overloaded by pain-killing narcotics that your mind is total mush.

There's nothing trite about having your health. When you have your health, you have options and choices. Sure, it's up to you at that point whether you choose to exercise those options and choices. But, they are there for the taking! Normally, my day is filled with choices and options:

Sure, it's a pain when the baby cries for hours on end and won't sleep, but at least I can pace the floor with him. Or I can sing. Or I can cry too. ;)

When the children are squabbling and whining over every little thing, I can whisk them both off to the kitchen to make a special treat. Thus, eliminating an escalation of frustrations and having a new snack to nibble. There's something magical about cracking eggs and stirring flour in a big bowl. And my son loves the sound of the mixer (go figure. I say go with what works, and the mixer works for entertaining him and staving off crying jags).

When I am overwhelmed by laundry, cooking, and cleaning, I can choose to dive right in OR I can wave the white flag and surrender with the kids and a stack of books on the couch (surrendering is almost always the best plan!).

But when something overtakes you and eliminates your choices, great sadness sets in. I have felt so powerless and almost non-existent these past two weeks. When you are not part of life and the living going on all around you, it is a very lonely and sad place. Never can I take for granted my health. Not being fit in my mind and my body has cost me dearly. I have missed out on the joy, the silliness, the daily laughs. My children have grown another 13 days older, and I have missed it. Everything. The big, the small. Of course, I'm not the first to say this, but at times like these, you realize that the small moments really are the big ones.

I missed my daughter "reading" to my son, "because Mommy's sick and needs to rest for a few whiles."

I didn't hear the cute songs my daughter made up while she built some really impressive train tracks and tunnels this week (but my Mom and my sister did hear and told me there were some precious lyrics thrown in there).

I didn't hear the calm and comforting voice of my husband reading the stacks of library books as he became the one and only bedtime storybook reader.

These past two weeks I have spent more time in emergency rooms and in CAT scans and MRI tubes than I care to recall. I have been receiving painkillers through IVs, assorted prescriptions on my kitchen countertop, and through a continuous dose from the skin patch on my chest.

If you don't know me or I've never mentioned it in the past, I am one of the biggest anti-pill people you'll ever meet. I didn't choose drugs to numb the pain from my 2 herniated disks and broken tailbone after a riding accident. I chose hypnosis for childbirth. I even told the doctors upon discharge from the hospital after major intestinal surgery: "Keep your prescriptions. I won't use them." I just don't like popping pills. Even if I need them, I try to find another option. So, this constantly drugged version of myself really isn't "me" at all. But if it's a choice between a writhing-on-the-floor-with-pain, sobbing, hysterical me or a much quieter, albeit still miserable me, I guess I'll choose the one that doesn't scare my children and my husband so much.

And I will pray fervently for the day when I'm feeling so good that, on those crazy days to come, I'll smile and remind myself that at least I have my health.

{No worries about this blog space becoming a serious and depressing place to visit. Just wanted to get my thoughts down, for my own reference more than anything else. But reading through it makes me want to hug my dear ones a little tighter and squeeze as much fun into our days as possible. And that's why I posted it here. Back with more uplifting thoughts soon!}

To Cap Off Our Summer...

2009-09-07T19:31:00.001-06:00

We spent part of the Labor Day weekend laboring in the fields: picking strawberries and raspberries in the sweltering heat. Ugh! But (as I pointed out to my husband when he balked at the price of our organic berries) the whole experience was totally worth it (and you can't put a price on family fun, can you?). I also cut several bunches of basil and some fresh flowers too. In the end, our tummies and our baskets were full of sun-ripened goodness.

This farm is one we regularly visit every year at this time. Everything is grown organically, so I don't worry when the little ones eat more than they pick! It's so quaint and welcoming. As one of the workers told us, "Everyone who comes here to pick berries or vegetables is happy. I am so lucky to work around happy people surrounded by beautiful gardens for a living!"

Our little guy had a blast. He trudged up and down the rows, holding tightly to his berry of choice in his sticky, juice-covered little hand!

And we were amazed by how fast Roo can pick berries. A year or so ago, she spent more time eating berries than filling her basket. But this year she was very focused and task-oriented (which was probably why it cost us so much more this year than in years past -- paying by the pound adds up quickly with a nimble-fingered four year old helping you!).

A stop in the farm's general store is a must. They sell these delicious treats called fruit logs: dried fruit (from the local harvest) rolled in coconut. Apple-cinnamon, peach, strawberry-cherry, and lemon are among the flavor choices. They are so soft and chewy. The perfect sweet to top off our picnic lunch.

I have plans for cobbler and coffee cake with some of our berry bounty. I will freeze the majority of our pickings to enjoy in the coming fall and winter. As for the basil I picked, there will be lots of pesto. We put pesto on almost everything: pasta, roasted veggies, chicken, burgers, and sandwiches!

We spent the rest of our weekend biking, going for long walks, and lolling around in the hammock at our family's BBQ. It was pretty much the quintessential long holiday weekend.

My contribution to the BBQ meal was sweet corn-on-the-cob and this pie:

I can think of few better ways to cap off the summer season than with a fresh peach pie! Definitely what made it extra special was the cream cheese crust, which ended up tasting like a giant sugar cookie (in fact, the crust did turn out about a 1/2 inch thick--just like a cookie). Fresh, sugared peaches piled high on top of a cookie crust and topped with whipped cream? It's hard to go wrong with that, isn't it?? Mmmm! The only unfortunate part was the lack of leftovers to take home! :)

A Win-Win Scenario: Eco-nomical & Eco-friendly!

2009-09-04T12:01:00.001-06:00

I've always been a recycling kind of girl. But I've always sensed that we could be doing more to harm the earth less.

This was especially so when I saw and read how they managed over at Painted Rainbows and Chamomile Tea to whittle down their trash output. I was astonished and amazed. Not to mention, completely inspired! Surely our family could lessen our impact on the landfills by making some wiser choices and scrutinizing what normally gets tossed on a daily basis. I now find myself analyzing each object in my hand as it's poised over the trash can: Can I recycle this? Can I turn this into something useful? Is there a waste-free alternative to this product (such as filling up my own jars/cloth bags in the bulk food section of Whole Foods)?

So, when I came across this article in Family Fun magazine, I couldn't wait to try it out. It takes recycling one step further: take what is recyclable and give it a second life in your own home, instead of in the recycle bin.

We already had the items on hand, so we set to work. I loved the idea of creating a reusable sandwich container for my husband's lunch. I hate using plastic sandwich bags, and the few plastic storage containers we do have (I am slowly weeding them out) don't fit compactly into his lunch box.

The great thing about both the sandwich container and the little snack box (I filled ours with fresh fruit pieces one day and trail mix the next) is that they are washable: the milk jug is plastic and the snack box is made from small juice or milk/whipping cream cartons, which have that slick coating on the inside. So no matter what food they held the previous day, no trace of food/liquid is left behind once it's washed. We have been using and reusing ours for a week now and they are still holding up just fine.

If you want to make these yourself, follow the above link to the instructions on Family Fun's site. However, they are super simple and I'll give you the quick rundown here:

1. Obviously, start with washed and dried milk jugs and cartons.

2. Draw a cutting line as pictured here, making the four "flaps" of your container, one flap being the longest. Note: I didn't make my tallest flap long enough--it ended up not folding over far enough, but it still works.

3. I made the dotted lines, but I didn't use a thumbtack to pierce holes along my dotted lines as the article instructed. It just didn't seem necessary (plus then I would have had a certain four year old begging to try her hand at poking holes through the plastic. And that idea just had disaster written all over it). I just creased along the dotted lines and folded them back and forth a few times to make the container easier to open and close.

4. When making the snack box using milk cartons, just snip off the top and cut down each side until you can close up the box like so:
As I stated before, the top flap on my sandwich container doesn't extend far enough over the front to close with an adhesive velcro dot. You'll see in the photo (directly above) that I tried cutting a slit in the front to fashion a closure of sorts. It didn't work. The top kept popping out of the slit. So, that's where the ever-handy rubber band comes into play.

Now I'll admit that I felt compelled to put a note inside my husband's lunch box, reminding him not to throw away the empty food containers. That would defeat the purpose of this project just a bit, don't you think? I thought that since they were made of materials that normally get thrown away after consumption, he might do just that. But, he dutifully brought them back home again. There may be hope for making my dear hubby "green" yet!

My husband said that his friends at work harassed him today about having a wife pack his lunch in "garbage." Nice, huh? Well, my beloved defended me and told them about my wish to instill eco-friendly thoughts into the minds of our children through activities such as this one. He added that, "If my wife is happy, I'm happy." Now that's a smart man.

The 12 Weeks of Christmas

2009-09-01T11:33:00.001-06:00

I know what you might be thinking, "Did she just mention Christmas? Is she seriously going to launch into some Christmas-related post?" The answer is yes. Yes, I am. But before you abandon ship and click away to visit a non-Christmas post on a different blog, allow me to explain.

I love Christmas. I mean, I LOVE it. Always have for as long as I can recall. And every year since entering adulthood/parenthood, I have vowed to experience a leisurely, relaxed-pace, mostly handmade, tradition-filled holiday. I usually end up filling the pre-Christmas weeks with heavily exasperated sighs, rushing and running around like a madwoman, spending too much buying what I would have made myself-- if I had more time. As my husband pointed out to me last year, "You know what day Christmas is. It never changes. Why are you always caught off-guard with too much to do and too little time?" This coming from the man whose wife chooses and buys/makes gifts for his family as well as her own, I might add (snarkily). So, of course, the holiday crunch doesn't quite hit him as hard as it does me. However, I digress...

So in January of this year, I joined the Rudolph Club (online group whose members take the 25th of each month to do some Christmas-related task, thus spreading it out over the entire year instead of cramming it all in at the last minute). I participated in January and, well, just January. Yep, one month in and I ran out of Rudolph steam. Pathetic, I know.

Part of the problem for me is that I cannot find the will to do Christmas stuff when the weather doesn't cooperate. Sewing a Christmas stocking while sweat dots my brow just does not compute. I need cloudy, gray, chilly days in order to "do" Christmas. We don't see a lot of those days from April through October.

However, I have found that if I dress lightly and work at night (when I can't see all the lush green-ness outside my door) with the air conditioning cranking, I can coax myself into finding a bit of Christmas spirit. Cup of cocoa and lots of mini-marshmallows required, of course. And Christmas music. Obviously. My Christmas music collection is always at my fingertips because I have been known to listen to it at odd times of the year. When we were little, my sister and I would listen to our Christmas records (records--am I dating myself here??) in the middle of summer. My Mom's only rule was that we had to turn the music off before my Dad came home from work. My Dad is not a huge fan of Christmas music at Christmastime, let alone on a day in mid-July.

So, with September fast approaching (scratch that -- September is HERE!), I thought I would fully commit to my idea of the 12 weeks of Christmas. Why 12 weeks? Well, in the perfect world that exists in my dreams, I am finished with all the heavy Christmas preparations by December 1st. This way, I can wile away the three weeks before Christmas doing the light and fun stuff: baking cookies, watching Christmas movies, nightly walks to look at the Christmas lights, ice skating, sledding, reading Christmas books, gazing at the decorated tree, etc. I'd rather not be wrapping and shipping presents, writing out Christmas cards, scrambling to find that last-minute gift, coming up with holiday menu plans, fighting my way through the baking aisle of the grocery store, or frantically sewing (and, thus, using my seam-ripper because of said frantic sewing) late into the night.

September, October, and November = 12 weeks. For me, a little accountability goes a long way. Therefore, I will be sharing my progress here on a weekly basis. Stay tuned (and join me if you'd like! I'd love to hear ideas from others out there!).

*Edited to add: Before publishing this post, I googled "12 weeks of Christmas" and found that I am not alone. Several others are trying to get a jumpstart on the holidays as well. Nice to know I'm in good company. Go forth and plan!

Simple Woman's Daybook

2009-08-31T10:57:00.002-06:00

For today...August 31, 2009

Outside my window...a huge canopy of shade. My, our backyard tree has grown enormously this summer. Must be from all that rain!

I am thinking...about how we can wring out the last drops of summer before Labor Day weekend. I'm thinking berry-picking!

I am thankful for...the perspective we gain every week when we take our son to Children's Hospital for treatment/therapy. While we are there, we sit near/pass by/chat with/smile at many sick children with health problems much more serious than our child's. So, while we feel frustration and fear regarding the challenges our son faces now and in the future, I do know that there are parents out there facing much bigger frustrations and fears for their own children. I always try to include these families in my daily prayers.

From the kitchen... -black bean and shredded chicken enchiladas, a mixed green salad with fresh and super yummy orange tomatoes I bought at the farmer's market yesterday (they smell so sweet and fresh--just like summer!). Plus, I've got some whole milk yogurt cooking away in the yogurt maker.

I am wearing...navy cargo pants, white sleeveless top, white socks and my "indoor" sneakers.

I am creating...a to-do list for upcoming Christmas crafts (yes, I realize it is still August. But there was a hint of autumn in the air just the other day, and it got me to thinking...)

I am going...to escape to the bookstore this week, I think. An iced mocha, a stack of magazines and books, and a comfy chair...sounds like the perfect getaway (even if it's only for an hour).

I am reading...A Child's Garden by Molly Dannenmaier. Completely and utterly enchanting and inspiring!

I am hoping...to get a handle on some of the pits of chaos reigning supreme around here and re-establish some order. I think the little stacks of clutter here and there are contributing to some negative energy vibes (not to get all new age-y on you, but what I'm trying to say is clutter makes me cranky!)

I am hearing...my daughter singing random lines from our current stack of library books. I love that rather than just speaking the words, she pretty much sings everything these days. I also hear the pleasant hum of the baby monitor while my son sleeps upstairs.

One of my favorite things...when my husband accompanies me and the children on the big grocery shopping trips we make twice per month. It's so nice having his company and he helps distract the little ones while I concentrate on my giant list!

A few thoughts for the rest of the week...other than the aforementioned clutter-banishing, I plan on a trip to the library, a visit from my sister, a trip to Children's, and later in the week I'm going to get fresh market peaches to make this special peach pie with cream cheese crust for a Labor Day party this weekend. Yum!

A picture thought I am sharing...look at this busy bee gathering nectar before summer runs out. "Stocking the pantry shelves" for winter, if you will. :)

For more Daybook links, hop on over to The Simple Woman's Daybook site.

Best Playdough Recipe

2009-08-28T18:24:00.001-06:00

When my daughter asked to do playdough in the past, she was met with reluctance on my behalf. Maybe it had something to do with a classic rookie mom mistake: I let her play with it on our coffee table, which is located in our carpeted family room. And I did this for years. Rather than finding a more appropriate place, I finally chose to ban the playdough play altogether. Truly a shame, because she loves playdough.

Nowadays, I am the one to suggest playdough as an activity. Why the change of heart? It boils down to two things:

1. I wisely contrived a plan to spread a vinyl mat/tablecloth on our ceramic tile hall. So, even if playdough bits stray from the mat (which --who are we kidding-- they will), they fall on the tiles instead of getting embedded into the carpet. Embarrassingly, this hard floor=easy clean-up concept took me years to grasp.

2. While strolling through the blogosphere, I found a recipe for playdough that is perfect. I have tried no less than half a dozen different playdough recipes in the past. Sure, the ingredients are all similar to some degree, but the results have been anything but similar. We've had: too wet, too dry, too stinky, too much, too short-lived (dried out in record time), etc. etc.

The following aspects make my new favorite playdough recipe a winner:

*it makes just enough. I'm not stuck with cups and cups worth of playdough that required the emptying of every salt shaker in the house and left me with no flour to make muffins later on.

*the recipe is so simple and straightforward that my daughter can make it all by herself (okay, she needs me to give it a good stir to smooth the lumps, but the rest is all her).

*it keeps in the refrigerator for quite some time as long as it's in a sealed bag.

Best Playdough Recipe

(found here, which is a delightful blog in many ways, so check out the non-playdough related posts too!):

4 Tbsp white flour (on humid days, I find that I have to increase the amount by another Tbsp or so)

2 Tbsp salt

A splash of vegetable oil (the original recipe calls for a dropper-full, as it is intended as a Montessori activity. I didn't have a dropper on hand, so I guesstimated here)

2 Tbsp water (if you want to color your playdough, add food coloring of choice to the water before mixing it into the rest of the ingredients)

Combine in a bowl and stir. Then knead to really incorporate the color (if used). We kept our first batch in an air-tight container in the refrigerator. We found that subsequent batches kept fresher longer if stored in one of those plastic snack-sized baggies (which, on the whole, I try to avoid using, but one little baggie can be used indefinitely for playdough storage).

We made bracelets and watches. Now we make a new batch of playdough on a regular basis. Throw in some cookie cutters, a garlic press (to make hair/grass/worms/spaghetti), spoons, forks, butter knives, plastic cars, or any toy that makes great tracks and is easily washed and have some fun. Just make sure you have the fun on a non-carpeted surface (ahem). Although, I'm probably the only Mom out there who needs a reminder like that! ;)

Better than a Snack Pack

2009-08-27T12:51:00.000-06:00

I came across Organic & Thrifty recently and it is chock-full of healthy information and ideas. I was skimming a post about healthy lunchbox alternatives and found this recipe for "pudding." If the chocolate moustache around my daughter's mouth was any indication as to how much she liked this, I'd say we have a winner. Better yet, I had the few basic ingredients on hand and this snack packs a nutrient-dense punch!

Chocolate Banana-Avocado Pudding:

Puree one avocado with one banana in a food processor. Add 2 tsp cocoa powder and 1 Tbsp honey or to taste. (the banana I used was super ripe and very sweet, so I didn't need as much honey). Blend and serve!

Wordless Wednesday: A Summer Perk: Impromptu Picnics

2009-08-19T20:19:00.004-06:00

Trying to Keep the Heart at Home

2009-08-18T21:53:00.001-06:00

I'm not sure why, but my home has been looking anything but haven-like lately. I know what it is I should be doing, but I find myself doing just the opposite. Laundry needs folding? I think I'll sit and read this magazine. Dry dishes in the dish drainer, awaiting their journey back into the cupboards? Hmm...I think I'll read some of my favorite blogs. Aaack! Why can't I get myself in domestic gear?

I have spent many hours devising a house cleaning schedule. After trial and error, I developed a morning and evening routine that works. I have it posted in my Home Management Notebook. I am well aware what tasks are supposed to be done on what days. Everything looks good on paper. But follow-through? That seems to be sorely lacking.

I am one of those people who feels weighed down by clutter and disorder. I would even go so far as to say that a messy house depresses me. This blog has been neglected lately because this space is supposed to be about how I attempt to make all aspects of my family's life comforting and secure and peaceful. How can I write a post for a blog called "Our Haven on Earth" when my husband keeps asking me when I'm going to clear the clutter off our kitchen counter? Or the miscellaneous spills that were never wiped off the stove burner drip pans set off the smoke detector? {In my defense on that last one, our smoke detector is too close to the stove and seems to be super-duper sensitive to boot} Those occurrences hardly seem like they would take place in a "haven." To ignore that fact and wax poetic about homekeeping would make me feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. A fake.

So, I've been doing some thinking. Something must change. But, before we can change something deep-rooted in ourselves or our thinking, it helps to understand the "whys" behind the issue.

Why am I suddenly having trouble taking care of my home and myself? Okay, not taking care of myself is not really a new issue, but I have been more neglectful than usual of my needs and desires as of late. That's a post for another day. But why the domesticity nosedive?

I have noticed, since we began house-hunting in May, that I seem to have "checked out" of the home we currently inhabit, and have set my sights on the future home instead. Mind you, we haven't actually found the future home yet! But just the idea that we will soon (hopefully) be leaving this house in favor of greener pastures, has led me to abandon any energy or focus that I would normally be putting into here.

But then I realized that God has already blessed us with a comfortable and cozy space to call home. We are living in it right now. Today. Maybe He is waiting for me to show my appreciation and gratitude for our current living situation before He blesses us with the housing situation we desire. Sure, our current home has limitations and drawbacks, but it is also where we hang our hats. At least for the time being. Whether we move out next month or next year, I need to stake claim on the house we inhabit now. Victoria Moran, the author of one of my favorite homemaking books, "Shelter for the Spirit," puts it best:

"This is your home, whether you own it, rent it, or were born into it. Home is where you go to refuel--physically, emotionally, and spiritually. You no more need to own the house for this personal refueling than you need to own the service station to get gas. When your soul claims an address as its own, it doesn't matter if you stay there six months or the rest of your life. While you occupy the space, it is undeniably yours."

I've written in the past about trying to be more present and "live in the moment." I have been successful doing this with regard to my children. It has taken practice and diligence, but I've managed to be more connected during our crazy days. Many times I have had to remind myself to take a deep breath, slow down, savor, and throw myself right into their lives and whatever activity they're doing at that moment. Kids are so great at living in the moment. It's the only way they know how to live.

So, now that I'm comfortably and more naturally being present where my children are concerned, it's time I add a new challenge: being present in my home. My belief has always been, and still is, that "house" and "home" are two different things. To me, a house is a structure. An inanimate object. But a home shelters us physically and emotionally. It is literally pulsating with life. A home is where love gathers. A place where we "shore up" in order to cope with the world outside our familiar front door. That is why I always refer to myself as a homemaker rather than a housewife.

I need to get back to the me that loves "making home." She's in there, I know she is. Heck, I hear she's even got a blog devoted to it! :) Got a little sidetracked lately, that's all. I blame it on the summer heat.

Well, I'm off to tidy up the mayhem around me (really, I'm going to shut this computer off right after I post this). Typing my thoughts out in this fashion seems to have lit a little fire under me. Sorry for the rambling and jumbled-up parts (which pretty much pertains to the entire post). My thoughts were everywhere tonight. Thank you to any faithful readers who followed along this discombobulated path of a post!

Beating the Heat

2009-08-13T21:36:00.002-06:00

As we continue to brace ourselves against hot and icky weather, we've been forced to find some new ways to be entertained inside. Pictured above, you'll see quarters adhered to my daughter's feet with clear packing tape. Well, think of these as really, really cheap tap shoes. I took a marathon tap/ballet/jazz combo class when I was her age, and I just loved wearing my tap shoes every chance I got. I was telling her some story about "When I was a little girl..." and the topic of tap dancing came up. When Roo asked me what tap shoes were, I realized I've denied my daughter the thrill of standing in front of a mirror in leotard and tights, with a bunch of other cuties, to tap and twirl to her heart's content. While enrolling her in some sort of dance class is on the agenda someday, I figured I could fashion some tap shoes right now. I know I didn't coin (hee hee) this idea myself. I've seen tap shoes made from loose change several different spots in the past. Just tape them onto the heels and balls of the feet and off you go:

Being confined inside has also brought renewed interest in the doctor's kit. Here's Roo using the "checkoscope" (that's 4 year old medical lingo for stethoscope, by the way. She says it "checks" to make sure the heartbeat is strong and clear. So, based on that rationale, checkoscope certainly deserves heavy consideration as the newest word in medical terminology) to listen to Rascal's heartbeat:

Yes, they are wearing long sleeves and pants even though I just complained about a heat wave. I am guilty of running the central air just a bit too much, I think. I still feel hot even when they start getting chilled. So I dress them appropriately for the arctic blast that blows through our vents in order for me to stay cool (and, thus, less cranky).

Fortunately, he sits very patiently through this thorough examination. Every time. And it happens about a dozen times per day. I love the doctor's glasses she's wearing. And I also love how she makes up a random temperature: "Ah, 422.5... that's a little bit on the high side."

A couple of the benefits of the doctor's kit being used around here is the chance to learn some new vocabulary: otoscope, reflex hammer, syringe; and I think it has definitely helped our son learn to sit patiently at the real doctor's office while they do various tests and exams. After what his sister puts him through (again and again), his actual hospital visits are a piece of cake!

While I was putting Rascal down for a nap, Roo adapted this bridge from a wooden garden stake and the Bounce and Spin Zebra (it's about time that zebra carried his weight around here. He's been sitting idle for months).

I can wish for "sweater weather" as much as I want. It isn't going to make Fall come soon enough. So, in the meantime, we will keep hunting down new activities to wile away the hot summer days.

Library Trip

2009-08-11T11:00:00.002-06:00

Finally! We have some fresh reads from the library. Now that Rascal is much more willing to sit through a book, I checked out a couple of books that Roo liked when she was his age. They are simply written, with engaging illustrations. When I sit down to read them to Rascal, Roo stops whatever it is she is doing, and comes over to listen too. So, I guess they're still favorites of hers even 3 years later. [As usual, all book cover photos are in the sidebar, for those of you who like to judge a book by its cover--literally! I know I'm one of those ;) ]

The first one is Blue Bowl Down: An Appalachian Rhyme. I can't remember how I first came across this book several years back, but I'm pretty sure it was purely a happy accident. One of those I-was-looking-for-a-different-book-when-this-one-caught-my-eye kind of thing.

It is a large book, with illustrations that fill each and every page in its entirety. When you read this one, it helps if you inject a kind of rhythmic, lyrical beat to the words as you speak them. Don't worry about how you do it, just do. When my husband reads it, he just reads it like he's reading any storybook. And the kids don't like it that way. They like the chant-like version they get from me. The book just flows better when you do it.

Regardless of how you read it, the sweet pictures of Mama and toddler making bread together is a comforting, homey scene. Every time I read it, I feel compelled to institute a regular bread making night in our weekly routine. I found the author's explanation behind the bread making tradition an interesting snippet at the end of the book.

My son's favorite thing to do when we read this one is to point out the playful kittens on the pages, as they are sometimes hiding! Overall, we find it soothing and calming. A great bedtime read-aloud.

Little House, Little Town is a bright and cheerful book. It follows the day in the life of a baby and the community in a busy town: turning on sprinklers, hanging laundry, running errands, riding bikes, climbing trees, and (as the book comes to an end) everyone heading for home and bed. I think my children like it because its pages are filled with familiar sights that they encounter in their own day.

The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear works so well on many levels: beautiful and humorous artwork, exciting and mildly suspenseful storyline, promotion of social values such as sharing. We absolutely love the adorable expressions on the sweet little mouse's face.

The next few books are geared more toward the 3-5 year old crowd, but my son will sit and listen to them too occasionally.

My daughter loves the My First Little House books. Unfortunately, our library doesn't carry all of the titles in the series. Of the ones it does carry, we have checked them all out at least once. This one, County Fair, was the last remaining book in the series that we hadn't checked out before. The reason being, it centers on Almanzo Wilder as a boy, not Laura Ingalls. My daughter is familiar and very fond of Laura, and I wasn't sure she would want to hear a story about this stranger named Almanzo. I was wrong. She enjoyed this book, but not nearly as much as she enjoys the stories starring Laura Ingalls.

On next to the "Sheep books," as we call them. There are more than a few books in this series as well. Sheep in a Jeep, Sheep in a Shop, Sheep Take a Hike: they are all hits around here. My daughter just turned four and loves rhyming words in our daily round. So, since these books have rhyming text, she is a fan. Plus, the pictures are cute and the sheep are given such human facial expressions! Lots of detail and things to point out, which makes reading more fun for her and for me.

So, those are are latest winners from our library trip. The library is such a wonderful resource, it's a shame not to make full use of it! Going to seriously try to get back to making our trips there a weekly event.

Watercolor Resist: Magic Pictures!

2009-08-08T18:38:00.003-06:00

Watercolor resist technique is so simple that I can't believe I haven't thought of doing it earlier. I've seen it done and have done it myself, but have not introduced it to my daughter prior to yesterday. For those who don't know, watercolor resist involves marking white paper with a white crayon or candle, and then painting a wash of color over the paper, bringing to light the crayon design. The wax crayon repels the paint, thus exposing your picture. In fact, it's the same technique we used on our Batik Easter eggs this year.

First I gave Roo a white crayon and had her make a picture. But, since it is white crayon on white paper, she was less than thrilled with the results. I encouraged her to keep at it and fill her paper in as much as possible, so we would see a good design. Since she wasn't aware that we were going to go over it with paint, she couldn't understand my enthusiasm for what seemed like a lackluster art project. However, once we washed watercolor paints over the paper, she was a little more interested (a little, but not much).

Wanting to step it up a notch and grab her attention, I drew a few pictures of familiar objects: animals, trees, little girls on swings, etc. I didn't have the easiest time because it is pretty difficult to draw "blindly." I couldn't tell where one part of my design ended and another part began. It was like playing Cranium or Pictionary when you pick the card that says you have to draw with your eyes closed. I suppose I could have taken my white paper and white crayon into better lighting, but my 4 year old isn't picky and I didn't feel like getting up to hunt down more agreeable light. To her, the semblance of any object was better than scribbles.

Then I had her use the darkest colors from the watercolor set and "uncover" the magic picture hiding on the paper. Once I put the whole "magic" spin on it, she was game! And we made (or shall I say, I made and she painted) a dozen pictures. She loved the anticipation of waiting for me to come up with my idea and draw it while hiding behind a "wall" of books at the table, ensuring that she wouldn't see what the magic picture was going to be until it was unveiled with watercolors. The more secrecy and excitement I displayed while drawing a picture for her (shielding it from her eyes from every possible angle), the better!

When my sister came over to visit with her six year old son, we tried the activity again. I handed my nephew a piece of paper onto which I had drawn a farm picture (I did this before they arrived). I didn't tell him anything about it, just handed it to him and said, "Here's a brush. Go paint." He wasn't in the mood to paint, but once he got started and saw an emerging picture, he enthusiastically declared this a winner. My sister and I churned out drawing after drawing for them to discover.

Normally, I don't like to play such a major role in art projects. I don't like to impose the idea on kids that art has to look like something specific or recognizable. Generally, to me, the more abstract, the better. But, since 90% of the art projects we do around here are free-form and child-led, I think a diversion from that is perfectly acceptable once in a while.

An art project that requires only 3 materials and lasts more than 5 minutes? I'm all for that!

Today, Inside. Today, Outside.

2009-08-06T22:23:00.000-06:00

In this "Today, Inside/Outside" series, I will be turning my attention to simple snapshots that capture something memorable about our space that particular day inside and, well, outside!

I seem to find myself caught up in a whirlwind of daily demands and activities that steal the living-in-the-moment focus that I've been attempting to implement. Most of the photos in these Inside/Outside posts will probably not appear magnificent to the casual observer. That's okay. They will most likely represent the moments that I want to remember long after this day has passed. Perhaps they will be photo glimpses of something I'm hearing, smelling, creating, touching, eating, seeing. Maybe simple or significant or silly or heartbreaking or peaceful or thrilling or once-in-a-lifetime moments: frozen in time for my overloaded/overthinking brain to recall and reminice about someday down the line.

I'm always on the lookout for ways to slow down and look around me, to find that treasure hiding under the surface, waiting to be discovered. That's the main reason I take part in The Simple Woman's Daybook. It forces me to be present and note what I see, hear, think. This is like that, except in pictures. With a few words or no words at all, depending on what the photos are saying to me that particular day. So, without further ado...

Today, Inside:

Despite the hand in the picture frantically grabbing for a cookie, these cookies could not be classified as "the best oatmeal cookie recipe" that the article claimed they would be. Never mind, it did give me a chance to spend some one-on-one time in the kitchen baking with my 4 year old helper. So even though the recipe was a flop, I don't regret the time we spent making them.

Today, Outside:

"Tiny swimming pools for the fairies," quipped the girl who loves all things magical, when she saw these on the lid of her sandbox this afternoon.

Summer Book Basket review

2009-08-05T19:28:00.000-06:00

Well, we're more than several weeks into summer and I just recently changed out the Spring books for ones celebrating the Summer season. I know, I'm just the model of efficiency and organization, aren't I? Just one of the many things I haven't managed to stay on top of these days, I'm afraid. Mother Nature, however, is keeping pace with the changing seasons: it's been hot and sticky and our air conditioner is getting quite the workout. The links to our newest crop of books are below and the cover pictures are in the sidebar if you're interested.

The first book added to our basket is, of course, Summer by Gerda Muller. I just love these wordless board books. The detailed illustrations fill up the whole page, which is very eye-catching to my little ones. I love how we see new little things each time we flip through the pages. I also adore how this series of books focuses on the simple pleasures; sort of the quintessential "do's" of each season. Be it winter, spring, summer, or fall, each season has activities and experiences unique to that particular time of year. These books highlight that in a delightful way!

The next two books are part of a series known as Percy the Park Keeper by Nick Butterworth. They are: Percy's Bumpy Ride and After the Storm. Roo is quite taken with these books. They are clever and cute and feature animals as the main characters (along with Percy, of course). Every time we have a storm or Roo sees a downed tree on our walks, Roo will say, "It's just like in the book, After the Storm." I can safely assume that a book has made its impression on her when it comes up in daily conversation. One of the highlights of these books is the fold-out pages. The one in the back of After the Storm is especially impressive: a fun little conclusion. Plus, it's done in great detail and HUGE.

I left All the Places to Love in the book basket because most of the scenes contained within could occur in Spring or Summer. For instance, the blueberry picking and sailing bark boats down river come to mind as summer activities. So, this book seemed appropriate to carry over from the Spring book basket.

I'm sure I have more books on the shelves that I could place in the Summer Book Basket, but I would never get this post up if I tried to make this an exhaustive list. Pretty soon, we'll be due for the Autumn Book Basket, and I didn't want to skip over our summer choices. So, short and sweet it is!

Nature Bracelets

2009-08-02T19:27:00.001-06:00

We were driving around house-hunting (yet again) today, and I thought of a little craft to keep the little ones busy while we stopped at each house to scout out the property. Although, calling it a "craft" is a stretch, as it is far too simple to really qualify as such.

When I was young, my sister and I and our neighborhood friends would make these nature bracelets. They are basically masking tape loops around the wrist, onto which you stick bits of nature: flowers, grass, buds, tiny stones, sticks, and moss. Really, anything (well, as long as it's not too heavy) goes! I even recall sticking expired bugs and butterflies to mine when I was about 6 or 7 years old (after I had sadly left them too long in the glass jar home I made for them).

So, once we reached the first property today, I wrapped a loop of masking tape around Roo's wrist. Then, for durability, I wrapped a second loop directly on top of the first. I sent her off to gather and stick whatever she could find. The hills were blooming with wildflowers, so we were not lacking for materials.

I think I may have gotten a little over-involved in the project, picking out the prettiest flowers when Roo seemed to be gravitating more toward sticks and stones. In hindsight, I should have let her put whatever she chose on her bracelet, instead of focusing on making it look good (to me). I guess I couldn't help myself -- I got caught up in reliving childhood memories or something. We will definitely make more of these bracelets this week in our own backyard, and I promise to restrain myself from taking over: just set her free and let it be completely her own creation.

For once it wasn't raining on our house-hunting expedition (we had been 7 for 7 when it came to rain/sleet/hail while on our little day trips scouting out future houses).

I can never see enough barns -- how I would love to own a horse again someday!

A Man on a Mission:

Even Rascal got in on the "jewelry"-making: collecting sticks and pinecones and bringing them to us.

Now all she needs is the dress and she's ready for the prom! Just kidding. Thankfully, we have quite a few years before we have to worry about that!