MommyCoddle

a good 20 minutes

I stepped outside with my camera yesterday, while I waited for the grill to get hot. Within just a short window of time, maybe twenty minutes, I was able to capture little snapshots of our life. I love looking at them today, and realizing all the activity that can happen in just a short span of time. Sometimes, it's nice to capture it and hold it together all in one place....for me they tell a story. And they remind me of little benchmarks in time-- the ducklings daily excursion outside, the last chicken--who keeps close to the house, a new technique for swinging, an upgrade from nakedness to underwear, the agony that is sharing the swing with your little sister, a patient favorite kitten, a rare, still moment between two four-legged friends.....

What stories could you tell, if you captured a good twenty minutes today?

How to say yes

I walked in to the guest room a few weeks ago to find Emma on her knees, on the floor, hunched over something. She was obviously working quietly and intently, and secretively. I stepped closer and she looked up.

In front of her on the floor was a whole battery of off-limits items from my craft stash--sewing scissors, expensive yarn, scraps of fabric, rubber stamp pads, good heavy papers and permanent markers.

I felt my blood boil. "EMMA!!! WHAT are you doing??! These are my things!"

"I had this idea.", she said with a defeated sigh.

I was still upset. This had been happening a lot lately. The sneaking off while I was occupied elsewhere in the house. The getting in to things that normally require supervision. Craft stuff. Food from the pantry. Gardening tools. Things that stay inside the house being dragged outside.

It was making me crazy. Didn't my children understand any boundaries? Didn't they realize they couldn't get into anything and everything, whenever they pleased?

I questioned her further, "Why didn't you just ask?"

"Because I knew you'd say no. You always say no."

And there it was. I was confronted with the truth. Or at least what felt like the truth to her.

Now obviously, I don't say no all the time. But sometimes, I think my pile of "no's" far outweighs my pile of "yes". In fact it could easily bury the pile of yes. Sometimes the no's come from exhaustion--the not wanting to make another mess, the not wanting to break open all the paints or get out the sewing machine, the not wanting to fill another sink with dishes, the not wanting to hike to the stream and carry home dirty toddlers and ten pounds of streambed in a metal bucket.

And sometimes, I catch myself saying no because I think that's what I'm supposed to say. It's what parents do. That somehow I'm teaching them some life skill--to wait, to be patient, that you don't always get your way. And then I find myself thinking, "Now wait. Why did I say no to that?"

And I also realized in some odd way, my barrage of 'no's' was driving Emma to deception. She had ideas and plans that were burning inside of her. Things she had to try. Experiments she had to concoct. Recipes she had to make. She needed to bring these ideas in her head to fruition. And sometimes, the supplies she had at her disposal--some watercolor paints, construction paper, a pair of tiny right-handed scissors, just wouldn't cut it. And more often than not, when she brought her plans before the queen of the house, she was shot down before she even got started.

You've heard me say it a hundred times before, this job of parenting is a continual learning process. And once again, I've learned a lesson. I'm not saying all my no's have magically become a yes--I'm not planning to let Emma float Elizabeth down the stream on an inner tube anytime soon. However, my no doesn't come as quickly these days.

I don't want her to give up on me. To think she has me figured out. To decide that I'm always a no. I want to say yes sometimes. More times. I want to surprise her. I want to follow through on a few of those crazy ideas and see just where that idea takes us. I want her to tell me everything because she knows I'll be just as excited and curious and creative as she is.

I'll say no, when a no is what's really called for. But more than that, I want to be a yes.

Up for a challenge?

Last week, I went to the grocery store and spent almost $200.

I wanted to pass out. I felt sick to my stomach. So much money sucked out of our bank account. Even with my menus carefully planned out, list in-hand, I still spent way more than I anticipated. And it's like that almost every week.

I know groceries are a necessity. It's not like I'm getting my hair highlighted and my nails done. We must have groceries. But still. It is so much money. And despite some great tips, I'm still spending too much.

Driving home from an errand today, I began to think how nice it would be if I could just take one week off from grocery shopping. Right now, I plan my menus on Monday morning and the girls and I head to the groceryafter breakfast and shop for the week. I get just what I need for the week, save for a few staples or pantry re-stocking, and the occasional impulse buy.

But back to my idea about taking a week off....

You know it's not like my cupboards are bare except for the things I'm putting in each week. They are still stocked with rice and beans and cans of soup and pastas and..... There are the odd cuts of meat and frozen breads in my freezer. I have flour. And sugar. And yeast. And butter.

It's just that I often ignore those things in my pantry for what I feel like making that week.

I'm not using what I have.

So here's my challenge for this week. My own mini no-spend challenge. I'm not going to the grocery store next week. (And I'm not going to stock up this weekend either--no cheating.) I'm going to make do with what I have in my cupboards and freezer. I'm going to get creative. I'm going to do my best to put together some meals with what I have on hand. I'm going to save a little money this week.

Sometimes my best meals are the ones created when I think "I have nothing to make for dinner".

So as I head in to next week, here are a few things I'm allowing:

1. I'm allowing myself to buy milk for the week (a necessity for my children), a bag of coffee beans (c'mon, I'm not crazy), and I'm going to refill the propane tank on my grill.
2. If someone invites me to dinner. I'm going to say yes. :)
3. I'm going to buy two quarts of strawberries at the farmers' market tomorrow.

Here's what I'm slightly concerned about:

1. I have no fresh greens in my fridge. But I do have frozen varieties.
2. I still think I'd rather go with a meal of rice and beans than break into the deer sausage my grandmother kept passing on to us. Which has been sitting in my freezer since, well....deer season. Yuck.
3. I hope I can make enough to eat for meals, plus leftovers for Dan's lunches.

All next week, I'll let you know what I make each night for dinner. In the midst of my normal posts, I'll keep you updated on how it's going and whether or not I'm making it. Ugh. I'm nervous. But I know it will be fine. I like a little mini-challenge.

Anyone brave enough to join me? And by the way. We have lots of granola.

ONE simple question, no. 4

A few weeks ago sheri asked me to take part in her series on CafeMom's Home and Garden section called, "Nesting and Nurturing", she posed this question to me:

What does home mean to you?

I have to tell you, for as much as I blog about my home, raising a family, fixing up a house, teaching my children, it was such a nice exercise to sit down and actually put my thoughts about home into words.

You can read my response, as well as take a few peeks inside my home. I'd love for you to stop by.

Sheri will be continuing her series and asking the same question of other women around blogland. I've really loved reading a few of the previous responses, especially these from Rachel Saldana (of buttons magee), Kate Inglis (of sweet | salty ), Tracey Clark (of shutter sisters) , Elizabeth Fleming  (of Tethered).

I thought this afternoon, I'd ask the same question of all of you. It can be a few words, a few sentences, but I'd love to know, what does home mean to you?

progress reports + inspiration

++Eyes are open. They are tumbling and tackling all over my mudroom floor, constantly underfoot. But so cute.

++We checked off exactly, um, let's see ZERO!! days since we started the chart! Out of sight, out of mind....

++As of today, we've collected, (though I think we've forgotten to count a few) 257 eggs. Wow. I gave four dozen away today, just to make room in my refrigerator. And I've officially burned my family out on quiche. Time to move on to the frittata.

++A hello and thank you, to those of you who are wandering over here from National Wildlife's Green Hour blog. I was honored to be included in their round up of "blogs that inspire" I've mentioned it before, there are some great activities on their blog worth checking out. They even have a weekly podcast.

++I also wanted to let you know that Gina of LetterGirl, one of my May sponsors is having an anniversary celebration on her blog, with giveaways all week. I hesitate to tell you, because I don't want more competition in the giveaways!! but her work is too good not to share.

++Last but not least, I remember catching the tail end of a commercial about this company Toms shoes. Here's a video that shares the founder/owner, Blake Mycoskie's story and is definitely worth watching. It is these kinds of stories and passion that inspires me.

ONE simple question no. 3

I have a lot I need to get done, which subsequently always seems to lead to some sort of procrastination. Tonight it took the form of blog-fussing and the creation of this little button. It's because I really love these simple questions I've been posing to all of you lately. The one of about the library and what methods you use to avoid fines and overdue charges was full of great ideas and advice. (as well as a few of you who commiserated with my "issues".) And I thought it was fascinating to read all of the different approaches to, and styles of family dinners.

Tonight, Dan was reading a bedtime story to the girls and I headed outside, just as it was getting dark, to lock the chickens in their coop. We've been trying to get out to them a little earlier these nights because we are getting a little suspicious that there might be some fox activity around here. Last night, we lost a whole nest of eggs that our one female guinea had been sitting on, and then, well....there's Rosie.

After I locked in the chickens, I took the long way home, walking around the back field with a trail of cats and dog bounding along behind me, listening to how deafening the peepers are getting, and straining to recognize the last few birds that were singing in the sycamore trees.

It was a much-needed time for me. I needed to get away for a few moments. Step back.

Tonight, as I often do, I was feeling the press of time on my shoulders. Feeling like our evening was slipping away too quickly. That by the time we were finished at the dinner table, I was already feeling like we were running late for bedtime and stories, and out of time for my planned baths for the girls.

During the work week, Dan gets home at 6:15, (on a good night) and we quickly sit down to dinner. Before we know it we're shuffling the girls upstairs for pajamas, tooth-brushing and stories. And sometimes, it all feels like it's happening too quickly.

So here's my (not so) simple question for all of you:  How do you slow down and savor your evening family time? How do you keep things from feeling rushed? Do you organize or plan your evenings to make more time for enjoying each other?

I really enjoy hearing from all of you and interacting with you through these questions. I hope you are enjoying hearing from each other and learning from each other, as much as I am.

little mysteries

I'm just popping in tonight to say thank you for your thoughts and comments you shared on yesterday's post. Once again, I woke up with that urge to hit the delete button and keep that post to myself, but your words and understanding made me glad that I didn't. Thank you for taking a moment to read my thoughts and my frustrations, for understanding my perspective and sharing in my joys and trials.

My gratitude is swelling up and over flowing.

I was listening to a song tonight by Josh Garrels*. And the first lines seemed to sum it all up well:

Learn this lesson well, my friend.
There's a time to rejoice and lament.
Every season will find an end.
All will fade and be made new again.

Meanwhile, Emma brought this bird nest in to me on Saturday when high winds were doing things like pulling down branches and knocking out internet connections.

How can I look at this and not be amazed? The shape. The weaving of horse hairs, no doubt collected from the neighbor's fields. Pieces of orange twine that wrap the round bales in our other neighbor's pasture.

How do they do it?

These tiny little birds. With no pattern, no frame, no extra set of hands. It is beautiful. And amazing. And breathtaking. And awe-inspiring.

* I cannot say how much this latest CD from Josh Garrels is getting to me lately. The music is poetic and has such depth. He paints pictures with the sounds and the words. It is so good. So true. So pure.
I especially like Jacaranda Tree :: The Original Spacefan :: Don't Wait for Me ::

living a complex life

This weekend has been a strange one for me. I'm not sure what it is exactly. I feel like I've experienced all the ups and downs of life in a "fixer upper farmhouse in the country". I feel them all weighing on me in a spectrum of emotions.

I find myself in one moment, swooning over the setting sun on the forsythia and the pure white muzzle of a new born calf at the fence. I stand back and watch as my 72 year-old neighbor, a man who was born in our house and now lives next door, slowly rolls his tractor into our yard. Using a two-bottom plow that he hasn't hooked up to his tractor in more than fifteen years, he pulls it back and forth, slicing through the green earth and turning it over to reveal damp dark soil underneath that will be our vegetable garden.  I sit on the back porch and stitch, while my husband builds bluebird boxes, and I listen to the faint squeals of my girls wading barefoot at the stream crossing.

I send a container of my oatmeal raisin cookies to the neighbor as a thank you, and throw brush on a burn pile--that Dan has cut back from a fence row in order to help the neighbor, for helping us. I stand outside and am struck that the only thing I can hear are the spring peepers and the ticking of our neighbor's electric fence across the road.

But despite these obvious treasures that come with where we've planted our feet, I find myself also feeling frustration with some of the trials. I get tired of every weekend being sucked up by something that is broken, needing repair. This weekend--an upstairs toilet, leaking down into the kitchen ceiling. I want to take a shower, but have to use a wrench and a pair of pliers to turn on the water and adjust the temperature, because the handle has fallen off and there hasn't been time to fix it. I get tired of always having to figure out how to do it ourselves because we don't have the time or the money to call someone else up and get the job done.

I once again experienced animals being animals, acting on their ingrained instincts, and yet I hate being faced with the near-death and the worry and the trauma. I get tired of twisting ankles on rubber boots kicked off just inside the door and weary of a kitchen floor that is never lacking its collection of mud and grass and leaf litter. I get tired of working, working, working and figuring out how to make work-time into family-time. I wonder if there will ever be a weekend where there isn't a major project on the agenda. I wonder if I'm cut out for this.

Late last night, when we were finally sitting down to dinner at eight o'clock, I know Dan could sense my weariness. And he said something to me that has not left the back of my mind for the rest of the weekend. It was something he heard Wendell Berry say. In so many words, Wendell Berry says that this life we are leading or striving for, so many people refer to as "the simple life" or "living simply". But in reality, what we should be striving for, is actually "the complex life".

It is simple to go to the store and get your strawberries in January, or call up the repairman on the weekend and get your toilet fixed and your shower handle replaced, or throw your load of laundry in the dryer. But what we think of as the simple life, is actually very complex. It is work and sacrifice and timing and waiting and figuring out how to make do. It is far from simple.

My mother always says, "this too shall pass" and those words are also ringing in my head tonight. It seems whenever I write a post like this, I find that the next morning, once I've slept on it, I have to resist the urge to go in and delete. I want to go back and add a footnote and say that I'll be fine. That these feelings will pass. That there is joy to be found in a new day. That often, all it takes is spewing out all the thoughts and frustrations and emotions. And then they are gone. Weightless. Carried away.

And as I sit here in the dark, typing, I can hear the raspy breathing of a little girl asleep in bed beside me, in droopy, tangled pigtails and a flannel nightgown. And I hear knocking and banging behind the closed bathroom door and know that repairs are being made and he's still working. And he's okay with it. And he's probably doing it for me. And I've married a good man, who works hard.

And I know that tomorrow this place will win favor with me again. And a good song will come on the radio while I'm sweeping the kitchen floor and picking up boots. And I'll stop trying to figure out why my life isn't simple and marvel at how beautiful a complex life can be.

protein + whole grains

For some reason, my eldest child seems to always give me a rough go of things for several weeks right around her birthday. I remember it when she turned six. And it happened again this January when she turned seven. Maybe it's coincidence. Maybe not. But this year, to be honest, it was a particularly tough several weeks.

It was one of those parenting seasons where I began to question all the decisions I was making for her, wonder if I was somehow "wronging" her, and how I'd failed as a parent. I found myself faced with situations where there was nothing in my parenting bag of tools and tricks that seemed to work.

Eventually, things began to settle down. I think a big part of it, was my change in perspective, which seemed to have a calming effect on our home.

Dan and I also began to notice a pattern. Many of our tough episodes with her seemed to be related to food--whether she was flat-out hungry or coming off some sort of sugary-high. So my focus began to shift, and I realized that I needed to start making some eating habit changes around our house.

On one particularly rough evening, I called Emily and we talked about all this. By the end of the conversation, she encouraged me to focus on two things: getting protein in at every meal (and snack), and making the transition to more whole wheat and grains.

I also started counting points, like I mentioned before, which always helps me be more mindful of where the calories are going, and keeps more filling foods in our diet.

And I have to tell you, the changes have been really good. The rough season appears to be behind us. And on the rare occasion that it shows its ugly head, she's in a much better place to be able to deal with it, and move on.  Me, too.

So I'm back to meal-planning. I'm getting very familiar with my Cooking Light magazine again and delving into out my grandmother's old Moosewood Cookbook.

But you all never fail me...what are some of your best high protein snacks, or whole grain meals and dishes? What's your favorite way to cook with beans? What resources, magazines or cookbooks do you like best? (have you seen this super natural recipe search?? It's great!)  I'd love to have some more recipes and ideas in my repertoire, I think most of us would. Share a link, a post, a recipe. And hopefully, I'll have some time to combine them all into one place so that they are easily accessible for all of you, too.

Thank you, friends.

changing our pace

A few weeks ago, I sat down at the computer and wrote a meltdown email to my husband at work. It said things like, "just getting by each day", "losing everything", "no time for anything", "disorganized", "grumpy", "tired", "always rushing"....

And since email is never the best way to communicate, especially with your own husband, his response wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear...."Maybe if you had dinner ready right when I got home, it would make the evenings less stressful and rushed at bedtime."

Thankfully, I know my husband well and I know that he meant to be helpful with his response, but of course in my fit, I took it all wrong. I think I wrote something back along the lines of, "but it's all the stuff BEFORE dinner that I'm having a hard time with!!!!!" (you jerk!) no. I'm kidding. I didn't call him a jerk.

But after unloading to him in that email, I was somehow reminded that most of the mood of our home life is set by me. I set the tone for our days and my attitudes and outlook are extremely contagious for the rest of my family.

That afternoon, I sat down with a large stack of blank paper and began writing down all the things that I felt needed to change. From simple "rules" like "no toys in the bathroom", to a weekly schedule of which days the kids would take their baths and showers. I put down everything I could think of on those pieces of paper--homeschool lesson ideas, meal ideas, things that I needed to finish or find (ugh.) and reminded myself of the things that would help me feel like I was back in control of our home life.  If nothing else, it felt so good to get all those things out of my head and into print that I could read and scratch through and erase.

Oftentimes, I feel like I need to hit a rock bottom of sorts, before I snap out of my funk, shake off the dust and get my act together again. It takes me getting a little overwhelmed before I make real changes. I wish it weren't that way. But unfortunately, that's often my reality.

So we're not uber-organized now. I'm not the drill sergeant demanding a tightly run household as a result of my latest meltdown. In fact, it may be just the opposite.

I've toned things down. I've slowed down. I've let go of a lot of things. I've said "no" to things. I've made some healthy changes. I've returned to some good habits I used to have.

A few specifics?

I've started planning our meals again.

I've started counting points again. And being extremely mindful about what I put into my body, and my children's bodies--(another thing I want to write about)

I've given my children a few things to look forward to on specific days. Things they can count on.

I've stayed away from the computer until afternoon naps. (sometimes I sneak in a check of email, but that's about it.)

I cut back on my babycenter posts. No more "A Bushel and A Peck".

And the other thing I'm trying to do is not be so super-focused on the things I have to accomplish each day. They weigh me down and distract my attention away from my children.

 Today, it was 11:00am before I had the breakfast dishes completely done and all the school work set out on the table. I let my loading of the dishwasher be interrupted by a trip to the chicken coop, a toddler wanting to feed her doll in the highchair and a little girl wanting to hold her dove and have me take pictures.

And the irony is, though I felt like I was moving at a snail's pace this morning and wasn't getting very far, very quickly, I still got everything accomplished today that needed to be accomplished, today.

And I realized there's still tomorrow. Except for a few things...

Tomorrow, my children will be a little bit older.

And tomorrow they'll be carrying around memories of yesterday.

And I can stand behind them and rush, rush, rush them through to tomorrow.

Or I can stay with them, and alongside them, and savor them. Today.

Just an Innocent Walk in the Snow

So I thought it would be a good idea to go outside first thing this morning. Get the girls some fresh air. Spend a little time exploring in the lightly falling snow.

Look for tracks.

Look at the snow hanging delicately on the pine branches.

Feed the chickens.

Take a few pictures.

By the time we made it out to the back field, around to the chicken coop and back to the front walk again..............

Mary and Emma had gotten in an argument because Mary wouldn't walk down to the stream with Emma. And Emma pushed Mary, sending her tumbling into the snow. Which left Mary crying over freezing cold hands and wet knees. (Mary can't handle any extreme temperatures--hot or cold.)

Emma then continued to give me a little attitude and was sent into the house and her attendance at tonight's 4-H meeting is in jeopardy.

Elizabeth tripped over her own feet and had an up-close encounter with the sidewalk.

By the time I got to the front door, I had three crying girls in the middle of meltdowns while I tried to remove coats, and hats and boots, attend to freezing cold hands, deal with attitudes and check for bloody chins.

Sometimes, in these moments, I have to admit, that I lose my cool. But sometimes the absolute craziness of it becomes suddenly humorous to me, and I'm able to handle it with a cool attitude and a calm demeanor.

Thankfully, that's what happened this morning. And I still managed to snap off a few pictures of the pretty snow.

I love it when things don't go exactly as planned.

Happy Tuesday.

a few notes

While I was away, I kept a few notes of the things I had been doing, tucked in my back pocket. I....

...cleaned the house. And watched it get dirty again.
...filled the bird feeders. Twice.
...thought about sewing. But didn't.
...watched Emma on ice skates on my grandparents' pond.
...had habit withdrawal.
...played a game of memory.
...cooked in my dutch oven. Three times.
...nursed a black eye.
...made soup.
...bought new books. And fell in love with homeschooling again.
...got a better internet connection.
...thanked my husband for a freshly painted pantry.
...administered Tylenol.

...mourned the end of a favorite magazine.
...fussed with my camera settings.
...thought about writing that children's book.
...told my girls the story.
...took a nap. Or two. Or three.
...made spring rolls.
...confiscated angry notes to little sisters.

...gave everyone in the family a haircut.
...started a new book .
...finished a project.

...knit.
...paid bills.
...bought a wing in the library in library fines.

...removed peanuts from nostrils.
...created and shipped out ten valentine crafts for babycenter.
...baked granola.

...made ambitious garden plans. Extremely ambitious.
...turned a fridge door into a dry erase board.
...got overwhelmed by messes. And then recovered.

...fixed a woodstove door that fell off in my hands. Again.
...watched a heron fly low across the yard.
...nursed a rooster with a sore toe.

...ignored the laundry and watched a movie with the girls.
...enjoyed empty moments in my day.
...missed all of YOU!

Hi! I'm back. Yay.

Glimpses of Reality, Followed by Inspiration

I believe a few glimpses of reality are nice every once in awhile. Healthy, even. Here are a few glimpses of reality from my day:

I am making grilled cheese sandwiches while I write this post. My laptop is sitting on the counter beside the stove.

My girls are watching a movie about penguins. And I'm okay with that. Because our morning was full or play and creativity.

I'm listening to Diana Krall on the radio show Art of The Song which reminds me of a boyfriend in college. Which I didn't think of until just this instant. (this is a new-found favorite on the radio and gets my inner singer, songwriter stirred up.)

This is where the girls spent most of the morning. A secret club meets under there. In order to get in, you must be wearing a tee shirt with the name of your favorite sport on it. Mary's says horseback riding. Emma's says soccer. And you must bring a sketch book. If I could fit, I'd be in that club, too.

Later, the girls commandeered the bathroom. Which, when the door is shut, is the warmest spot in the house--when the furnace is working, of course. Which isn't something you can count on.

That's Elizabeth, trying to get into the club. Yes, she's wearing underwear, over her clothes, which is another post to come. Yes, you'd break an ankle trying to get into that room. You should try to navigate it in the middle of the night. Yes, their beds are unmade. Morning "chores" were postponed this morning.

That's my kitchen table yesterday, about thirty minutes after I should have been elbow-deep in dinner prep. Instead I'm up to my elbows in red and pink and hearts and cupids and fancy paper and pipe cleaners. I'm working on some crafts for a new section on babycenter's website. They need 10 crafts, designed, instructions written out, and shipped to be professionally photographed in 7 days. Am I crazy? My deadline is tomorrow.

And now some inspiration to balance out my reality:

**Molly's photography in this post about her new restaurant, Delancy.
**Ali Edward's office tour. I'm getting Dan to build me some of those wooden bins on the wall, asap!
**Kristin's handmade doll clothes, which I think would be great to make for the girls' new dolls. I've already reserved the book from the library.
**This peek at Heather's new work. Stunning.
**Cassi's button clips.
**This post over at Ordinary Courage. It's actually her take on Oprah's latest magazine cover, but her thoughts on addiction, body image are really eye-opening. I'm not sure anyone could read the post without taking something positive away from it.

And back to reality......I burned the second side of the grilled cheese. Bummer.

when nothing is something

The other day, while I was making dinner, I handed Emma and Mary each a piece of thin wire. I told them to "sculpt" something while I worked on dinner. Emma immediately embraced the idea, wrapping it around knitting needles, fashioning birds and tree branches; while Mary struggled to make hers look like something.

"I can't make anything! I don't know what I'm doing!"

I told her that it doesn't have to be anything. It could be shapes, or a design or just bent in a bunch of different directions. And that sometimes nothing, is something.

I think it was a good little lesson for her--the middle child who always struggles to keep up with the things her older sister is doing. Who is frustrated when she can't write her letters like Emma, or draw a horse like Emma, or figure out a Math problem, like Emma.

With the notion that nothing can be something, she was freed up to create whatever she wanted, and seemed to let go of her limiting expectations.

I want my children to know that not every creative project has to look like something recognizable when it is "finished". That the process and the act of creating is just as enjoyable and important as the outcome.

A lot of ooohing and ahhhing over "nothing", from her Mama, also helped.

************************************************

I just started a new series of interviews over at Babycenter, where I'll be interviewing some creative mothers, asking about their craft, how they learned, how they incorporate their children into their creative projects. I'm not sure how many interviews I'll share, but I may be asking a few of you, to take part.

My first interview is Fabiola Perez-Sitko of Fig & Me.. Our virtual paths crossed just a few weeks ago, and now three of her beautiful dolls are hiding in my downstairs closet until Christmas morning. They are the girls' special present this year and their other gifts under the tree will be compliments to the dolls. We are keeping things simple and budget-friendly this year.

I also wanted to let you know that I am always looking for crafty tutorials or ideas to link to on the babycenter blog. I write a crafty feature each week and highlight lots of crafty finds around the web. If you are doing something that I need to know about, please shoot me an email or leave me a comment on this post. The babycenter blogs get A LOT of traffic, so it's a great way for you to let people know about your blog, as well, if you like.

Right now, I'm on the hunt for great holiday crafts, so please send me any and all links and I'll check them out! I have a crafty round-up post scheduled for the end of next week.

I haven't disappeared

Well, technically, I have disappeared. But I have a good excuse. I'm working on a new big project that I'll be sharing with all of you in a week or two. I can't wait. It's exciting.

Last night, Emily and I met for dinner again. We talked until they took away our drinks, and started sweeping up around our table. (And I'm suspicious they even turned down the heat.) Then we escaped to the bathroom where we took more pictures and fussed with our cameras. I always wonder if Emily and I will ever run out of things to talk about. But every time we part, I have to restrain myself from picking up my cell phone during the drive home to tell her the "one more thing I forgot to tell you." This connection with Emily always instills the belief in me that this blogging community holds something special.

While this new project is consuming a lot of my time and brain energy, I was struck yesterday by the things in my life that ground me, and bring real life into perspective. It's usually small, simple, every day things.

Yesterday, it was sewing buttons on Dan's work pants--sitting in the comfortable chair in the corner of our bedroom, listening to Emma and Mary outside in the hallway, lying face to face, flat on their bellies, lost in their make-believe play.

It was walking into Elizabeth's room, to swoop a crying baby out of her crib and into my arms. Feeling her body sink into mine and relax, her cheek against mine.

These are the things that make my life sweet. That bring me back. That make my heart swell with thankfulness.

I hope you'll find that sweetness in your life today, as well.