MommyCoddle

Instagram in print

There are a lot of things on my list of "Things I wish I was more diligent about". One of those is keeping track of our days in a more everyday way. There's the five year journal I've started and stopped. The 365 projects I've never signed on for. The Project Life series I've never been brave enough to try.

Then there's the notion of my grandmother's scrapbooks kept for her family of 15, full of report cards, doctor's bills, greeting cards, family letters--years and years worth of big, overstuffed leather-bound scrapbooks. 

The other thing on my more diligent list is printing pictures. I take a ton of pictures. And now with this shiny little iPhone in my hand, I take even more. But I never, ever print. When Emma was a baby and there was no such thing as digital cameras, I took and printed pictures. Slipped them into albums, captioned each, wrote a few lines, memories. And now the album is falling apart with use and love. 

Then, there's Instagram. While I don't do anything so organized as post every day or try to capture anything in particular, it has naturally evolved into this beautiful collection of special moments in my family's day. A trip out, the way they're sitting together at the kitchen table, a typical day running errands, a special moment at the stream. It's unrehearsed. Unposed. Natural. And, honestly, above all, convenient.

So when I recently discovered that Blurb has a bookmaking process that sucks all the photos in your *Instagram stream, right onto the pages of a book I was intriguied. And late one night when there were a million things to do but this thing, I decided to see what it was like. 

It was simple. I put them in my book in chronological order. Deleted and moved around a few that I didn't want in there, and basically held by breath and hit publish. 

But here's the thing. Just like my personal discovery that my moleskine journal needed to stop being what I thought it should be, and could just be what I needed it to be, I applied that same thinking to this book. I've thought about doing photobooks before but have gotten stuck on the idea of design, captions, and making it perfect. 

But while I wanted to see these photos in print, in something my kids could hold in their hands and flip through, I also wanted my personal imprint to be on the pages. So I decided to print every page with nothing else but a photo. 

Now with the (beautifully published) book in hand, I'm adding my imprint to the book in the form of captions and dates in my own **handwriting. 

And honestly, it's exactly what I wanted. It's turned into the perfect balance of my photographs plus my own hand. Something that I hope my kids will love to flip through and read and enjoy for years to come.

And I hope there will be more.

Once again, I let go of what everyone else was doing, what I thought I should be doing and gave myself the freedom to do what I wanted and needed to do. I needed it to be simple. I wanted it to be personal. And I found a way to capture both. 

I'm so happy with the way it's turning out. 

*I'm mollybalint on Instagram. Come find me!

**The pen I'm using is this one, which also happens to be my favorite pen, which also happens to be the pen I use in my moleskine, which also happens to be perfect for this as well.

When to step back. When to step in.

Oh my goodness, hello. Phew, there has been lots of animal drama and changes and excitement around here this past week. I'll be updating very soon, but we're still recovering and regrouping from a crazy-busy weekend. Dan put in 16 hours on Saturday alone, just working on a new project for the girls and me. And he was up again Sunday morning, before church, putting in more time. He's a good, good man. And now a very tired and sore man.

In the meantime, I'm back tracking a bit, to catch up and catch my breath...

With a house full of four girls the dynamics are very interesting to observe. The girls go through so many different phases. Even with the baby, I love seeing how one of her sisters will emerge at different stages to be the one that has what we call the "magic touch". When Birdy was in those early newborn stages, it was Mary. With her gentle hands and cooing whispers in her tiny ears. Then Emma was a master at that crawling, giggly stage--all peekaboo and belly laughs and carrying her outside on her hip to tackle morning chores. Now Birdy and Elizabeth are partners in play, though Birdy's joy when any of her sisters walks in the room is downright contagious. 

But the same kind of dynamics happen with my older girls, too. This winter, Mary and Elizabeth were bound at the hip. There were all things dress-up, Little House on The Prairie and dance parties. And Emma was on the outside, feeling a little too old, sometimes left out, and not exactly sure how to jump in. 

In the last month or so, there's been a shift again. Mary and Emma are "grown up" best buddies. Sometimes a little too cool, oftentimes too cool for their little sister, Elizabeth, who finds herself waffling between trying to keep up with their "big girl" plans or playing "baby games" with her littlest sister.

As a parent it's sometimes hard to watch. I want to step in and get involved, but I find it's best to sort of let things be, as long as no one is being purposely left out or hurt. As long as no one is being mean or rude, I try to let the changes play out their own way. 

But last week, my sweet Elizabeth was feeling out of sorts. Her sisters were either deep into school work, or making big plans for projects and things she wasn't involved in. I could tell she needed a little something special, just for her. 

And so I pulled an oldie out of my parenting carpet bag. I knew she needed a project. Needed something to do with me, just the two of us. Something special. So I dug deep into my recipe box (very, very deep) and pulled out an old faded, wrinkled recipe for homemade play dough. 

It's nothing new or earth-shattering, I know. But the making of the dough, the choosing of colors, the kneading of the warm dough, was just what she needed. I've always believed there is something therapeutic about making things with kids. It softens hearts, repairs hurt feelings, brings everyone around the table, together. 

And that's just what happened. Eventually, her sisters wandered into the kitchen with us--playdough knows no age limits. "Elizabeth, can I play with the green? Elizabeth, want me to get out the cookie cutters? Elizabeth, lets see who can make the best cake out of all the colors." Suddenly the playing field was level again. Everyone was included. And Elizabeth found her place at the table again. 

This parenting gig isn't easy. The when to step back, when to step in question always challenges me--whether its letting them work out differences, play out different relationships or solve problems. Whether it's walking a hard line or extending grace. 

But on this day, I think maybe with dough in-hand (and ground into the carpet) I got it right. 

I had to dig pretty deep for my playdough recipe. It's always nice to have it handy, so I've shared mine below. 

Click HERE to download the recipe card.

 

moleskine + washi tape

I'm about to completely finish my first-ever moleskine journal. This is by far not my first-ever moleskine. I've owned several. But between losing motivation or just plain losing them, or never finding a "method" with them that worked for me, I've yet to ever completely fill one up. 

But I'm just a few pages shy of finishing up my first. Every page. Almost every blank space. I started it with no real rhyme or reason as to how I would use it. I didn't know if I'd journal in it. If it would only be for my list of three. If it would be my own personal scrapbook to clip, save and tape things into. 

Turns out it's been all of those things.

Instead of trying to decide WHAT it would be, I shifted my focus to letting it just be a notebook that was more about time than about what filled the pages. It didn't need to be just one thing or another. It could be everything. And anything.

Though it sounds silly to have that realization about a notebook, the whole thing was pretty freeing to me. 

Because I'm a person who really wants to be a journaller. I want to be a scrap saver, a note collector, a list maker, a calendar keeper, an idea brainstormer. But when I tried to force myself to be just one of those things it didn't work. 

Instead, I'm a little bit of all of those things.

And instead, my moleskine now chronicles many months of my life--the to-dos, the recipes, the scraps, the notes, the lists, the brainstorms. All of it. 

But just a month or so ago, I discovered that there was a way I could organize it just a bit. It's helpful for me to be able to jump back in my notebook and find something I'm looking for. Where I wrote down a phone number. A recipe. Where's that cute note Emma sent Mary on her birthday? Where's my grocery list. 

And there are other things, too. With my work at *Babycenter, I use my moleskine each week to write down what posts I plan to write, things I'm thinking of for the future, people I've been in conversation with. But I rely heavily on those notes because it's a ton to remember. 

So I had my little inspirational moment a few months ago when I realized I could use my rolls of washi tape to help me find some of the most important, most used pages in my notebook. And hello, a system was born. 

Not every page in my notebook gets the washi tape treatment--but the most often referenced ones do. Each Sunday when I'm finished my planning page for Babycenter, I get out my blue plaid washi tape and run a piece along and folded over the outside edge of the page. I do the same for my to-do lists, recipes, and grocery lists. Each with their own colored washi tape. Everything else in between doesn't require tape. That would get both colorful and crazy. 

Now, when my journal is closed, I can easily see where each "big ticket" item in my moleskine is. I can get to it easily, and I admit, I kinda like the well-loved look it gives my journal. 

I just updated my stash with some new tape from Lotta Jansdotter. The woman knows how to put together a bundle of tape that speaks to me. For my next moleskine, I may just change it up all together and break out new brighter tapes. Who knows. I'm crazy like that. (Though I do love me some yellows, browns and blues.)

It feels good to have it down. To finally have a system in place that works for me. 

But I'd love to hear what you guys do. Do you keep a journal? What kind of journaller are you? Are you a list maker? Do you keep your lists all together in one place? I'd love to hear from you, friends. 

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Speaking of Babycenter...I'm hosting a giveaway for a great little portable labeller from Epson right now. It will make you passionate about labels. 

a busted-up binder

*Thanks to all of you that jumped in on my "guerilla goodness" idea. I just have to buy myself some fresh postage this morning and cards will be going out to all of you. I'm so looking forward to it!*

 

I don't know when it started exactly, college maybe? But I signed up for a subscription from Martha Stewart--but this one was a little different. This subscription was for "Good Things" cards--they came ever few weeks, in different categories from giving to homekeeping to entertaining. I'm suspicious I signed on solely for the linen-wrapped binder that came with your first set. Or for the "good mail", which doesn't come so often when you're in college. But those little bundles of cards kept coming and coming and coming....

 Eventually, I wised up and realized there was no end to Martha's Good Things and that if I wasnt' careful I was going to be bankrupt over this little collecting hobby. But the binder morphed into a place where I collected pages torn out of magazines--recipes, pictures of inspiration for my dream home, crafts, things I wanted to sew...

 

The binder was overflowing at this point. Bursting at the seams. D-rings bent, barely holding anything together. It got tucked away, tied up, boxed and forgotten. A year or so ago, I uncovered it again when my husband threated to throw it out. Shocked by his suggestion, I grabbed it from his hands, clutching it to my chest. 

As I flipped through it contents, I had to smile at my unmarried, no children, living in a college-apartment self. More often than not I asked myself, "What in the WORLD did I like on this torn out page?"

 

 But there still remained a few gems here and there. For some reason, these three got scanned and dumped on my desktop months ago. By no means the best of the bunch, but there are still little things about these images I love. I'm sorry I don't have a source, but you can probably guarantee it's either Martha Stewart or Country Home (a sadly defunct mag now.) 

 

 I have to admit I like my old-fashioned binder. Like holding the pages in my hands. Flipping through. Spreading them out. It was my Pinterest. Pinterest, which has been getting a lot of flack these days. I have to be honest to say that I haven't taken time to really read and understand all that's going on. Privacy. Copyright. Rights. sigh...

Makes me cling to my busted-up binder a little more....

She sews

Christmas gift-giving was a real challenge for me this year. Even up to the last few days before the holiday I was scrambling for ideas.

I was feeling like my kids didn't really need anything. We have plenty of toys. The baby is drowning in three sisters worth of hand-me-downs. Their rooms are totally messy which makes me even less excited to go out and buy more "things" to add to that chaos. 

But my kids aren't quite at the age where they appreciate a hive of bees or a goat. 

Ideally I like to have one "winner" gift. Something that will thrill their socks off and then pepper the rest of the gift-giving with little things like books, underwear, chapstick and pencils. 

Finally at the very last minute this year, and thanks to an in-store phone call to my sister, inspiration arrived. 

For Mary, it was actually easy--she's been begging for an (inexpensive) digital camera since the first hint of holiday decorations started appearing on store shelves. (So that's like, what? October?) And for her slightly absent-minded personality, she's handled the responsibility impressively well. The camera still works AND she knows where it is. 

But Emma was a challenge. She wanted a horse-y Christmas and had things on her list like an indoor riding arena (Lord, help me.), and jockey silks. (They aren't cheap!)

She also had on this on her list at number 10: That Birdy will stay little forever.

Be still my heart. She immediately got extra points for that one. 

So, as I was standing in the local Feed Mill staring at hay racks and shedding blades, nothing was inspiring me. 

But in a desperate phone call to my sister and a "What are you getting your kids?" conversation, I hung up the phone with a plan. 

My girl was ready for her own sewing machine. 

If you've caught any of my whining around these parts, we've been without a sewing machine in this house for almost three years. I've been borrowing and begging which is no fun. And Emma loves to sew. 

Even with my majorly budget-minded Christmas, I was still able to get her a very basic, entry-level Singer. 

I've never really given Emma specific sewing lessons. She knows the basics and nothing more. But watching her navigate the creative sewing waters is exciting.

It's like when toddlers first learn to dance. The minute they start to bop to the beat, you don't whisk them off to dance classes. There is so much creativity and growth in them learning how to swing their hips and bend at the knees. They're way more creative and free without the boundaries of proper dancing technique. 

And I'm finding the same to be true with Emma's sewing. I know she knows enough to be safe. She knows that if she doesn't want her stitches to pull out she needs to do a little back-and-forth at the beginning and end. But otherwise, she is a blank slate behind the presser foot. The possibilities are endless. 

I know that eventually what she wants to make will get more complicated and some instruction will be required. 

But for now, my house is peppered with tiny hearts, miniature pouches and endless possibilities.

The dining room curtains and pleated skirts can wait....

At a whisper

Hello from foggy Thomas Run. Everything is at a whisper around here, inside and out. The fog makes everything quiet outside. Inside, this round of colds has me almost completely without a voice this morning. Only slightly panic-inducing (understatement), since I have to sing at a funeral tomorrow morning. And whispering with four children isn't very effective. As I croaked to my mother on the phone this morning, she recommended whiskey, hot water, honey and citrus--a hot toddy. 

But, thankfully it doesn't take a literal voice to write a blog post, just a figurative one. And since it's been awhile since I've rounded up some good things from around the web....Here's what I'm pinning these days:

❉ Maybe this will clear my sinuses

❉ I will be the cool aunt who shows up with this for post-turkey play. (Usually, we have family wrestling matches. Oh yes, we do. But my mother may appreciate this slightly less violent activity. I'm seeing some family v. family matches ahead.)

❉ I am all OVER this. Where's my cheese grater?

❉ I used to make salt dough ornaments with my 3rd grade students. But I'm digging this upscale version. 

❉ I want these badly. But alas, I am a poor girl. (I welcome any comfortable every day shoe suggestions in the comments. My Danskos are dying.)

❉ This is an important skill every girl should have.

❉ I have some small fabric scraps that I cherish for various reasons. Maybe this is an idea. 

❉ Some people want a maid. Me? I want a personal knitter.  This is the first thing I'd send her.

❉ With four girls, I must master this simple skill.

❉ I'm over at 4KidsorMore talking about library fines (again). And if you're still changing crib sheets, you'll want to know about this. 

Alright. We have a lot on the to-do list today despite the fact that we're all dragging...There's guinea pig food to purchase. Tights to find for my dress tomorrow. (How do we feel about tights and open toe shoes? Is this cool now? Or totally ugly?), A photo walk to take for Emma's e-course. And ironically, library books to return. 

Happy, foggy Thursday! ( I whispered that.)

 

sheep fabric

Last year, I doodled this sheep drawing into a notebook one afternoon while I was sitting at the table with the girls. I have always kind of loved it and wanted to turn it into something I could use. I thought about notecards, or a totebag, or putting it on the front of little onesies or tees for my kids, but I never really followed through with any of those ideas. 

A few weeks ago, this baby blanket idea reminded me of spoonflower so I decided it was finally time to move the sketch from my notebook onto something. 

After much anticipation, last week my own little piece of sheep fabric arrived in the mail. I'm beyond thrilled, especially because I have a soft spot for anything "sheep" and it is impossible to find sheep things that aren't completely "cartoon-goofy" or "cutesy precious."

The whole process on spoonflower was simple. I only ordered a fat quarter of quilters cotton and another swatch of a cotton canvas. If I eventually order more, I think I'll make the print a tiny bit smaller.

But eek! Overall, I LOVE it. Now of course, I'm faced with determining what project will be worthy of my little quarter of sheep print. 

as if i need another hobby

It's still just a beginning....but I think I'm hooked. The process. The materials.

Not to mention the wine, and the good music in the background, and the time with two people I love to be with.

More pictures when I have a little more to show for myself....