Tell Us About School

10 on 10

I recently read about this project called "10 on 10" , and thought it'd be a lark (and also a cheap and easy stab at getting more traffic on the blog...).  You can read more about it in the link provided, but the idea is simple.  The gist of it is to take 10 pictures out of 10 hours of the day (yes, on the 10th of the month), specifically targeting the fun and beautiful things. 

Well, I spent the whole day doing this; but when I went back to the website to join the link party, the party had been CLOSED and I felt like this:

And yet I still felt consolation in knowing that I could still force you guys could still see them. 

It was a fun day.  Some of these images happened quite naturally as I was going about my day, and others I spotted before my hour was over, and thought to myself, 'I'll come back to that when my hour is up' - so, not so natural. 

I think some of them are obviously beautiful, and others I just enjoyed the way the light came in or they speak to me personally, and you might not particularly find them beautiful.  Suffice it to say, I had a hard time picking JUST 10, and ended the day feeling very grateful that things didn't get ugly while I was "finding beauty".

Do you see him?

And finally...the REASON projects like this exist.  Because as all this was going on...THIS was going on:

And this...

But those are KID-made messes, right?  They're almost whimsical messes with all their bright colors and fun toys taking you back to your carefree childhood.  Did you see through my rouse of showing you my messes without ACTUALLY showing you my messes?  Well, here you go, you bloodthirsty troll!

Oh yes.

Phillipians 4:8

Wilson vs. Wilson

I wake up in the morning with the very best of intentions.  A new day has a myriad of possibilities and most days I look forward to carpe-ing the diem for the satisfaction of ending the day feeling established.

The first thoughts of the day are often of the things that need done.  A scroll of  "to do" unfurls in my mind -  I'm sure it's familiar to many...it often looks a little something like this:

- laundry, dishes, mop floor
- pull weeds
- need toilet paper, need coffee (go to store)
- haven't blogged since last week - (do that, maybe?)
- exercise and eat right (?)
- help Aud with homework
- oversee the practice of piano, find music note flash cards
- look online for good deals on new shoes
- finish book, (only 20 pages left)
- check e-mail, return e-mails
- check bank account (have a moment of silence for fallen money)
- Why did you get that high water bill last month?  (call about that)
- The lock on the car is broken - would that be under warranty?  (call about that)
- return friend's phone call
- pick out and get paint samples for play room
- patch holes, fix button, and sew up torn seam on pants (time to throw away favorite pants?)
- take back movie rental
- finish any 12 of unfinished projects...(a second list unfurls)
- take out chicken for thawing (try that new recipe today?)

That's plenty to work with - let's stop there.

As my feet hit the floor, the list hangs over my head in a figurative thought bubble - I expect it will travel with me for most of the day. 

My four year old can sense my arousal like a bird senses the wind.  Bounding out of her bed and into my arms, I can see her own thought bubble bouncing around, in front, and behind her in a chaotic, mismatched font.  She reveals to me her own agenda.  

It is her imaginary puppy's birthday today, and she is having tea in his honor.  I am invited. After that, she has booked us a performance that we can't be late to, or our rock band will never get the respect it deserves.  From there, we will be superhero ninjas and save villages from alien invaders.  We will round up the day by feeding the birds, making pink cupcakes, and engaging in another activity I don't quite catch (but it's something about fire). 

Thus it begins.

The age old dance of Mom vs. Offspring...Being Productive vs. Being Mom...Filling a Day vs. Fulfilling a Life...

The decision lies before me: "To Do" list vs. Pup Pup's birthday tea


I tell her, 'I have a lot to do, and maybe I can play later'.  Although I have said this, I wonder if I have made the right decision.  The guilt of turning away time with my daughter weighs against my need to feel like an accomplished member of society. 

As she walks away in dismay, I notice the nightie that once hung below her knees now suspends mid thigh.  I am reminded  this will probably be one of the last times I can respectably clink teacups with an imaginary husky.

Suddenly play time feels more significant.  Point for Pup Pup's birthday tea.

But coffee tables need polishing and kitchen floors need scrubbing.  Warranties on cars run out and weeds grow taller.  Redbox late fees cease for no man.  These things are all important, too, right?

Right.  Point for "To Do" list.  (Licks finger and tags imaginary point in the air.)

I call the warranty company.  Somehow my relationship with the man on the other end of the line is unfulfilling.  His tone reminds me he doesn't need anyone to pour his chocolate milk. He is only concerned with dates and formalities and doesn't once mention tea.  Moreover, I get the sense he doesn't have any imaginary pets at all. 

Boring.  Point for Pup Pup's birthday tea.

As I hang up, I hear the school around the corner chime the starting bell, reminding me my youngest will be starting school in a few short months.

Yet another reminder that my time with her is short, and yet another point for playtime.

As I pass by the play room door, on my way to assess paint samples, I see all the gang gathered as equals at a round table:  "Brother", the stuffed crocodile, "Kangaroo", the stuffed rabbit, "Connie" the Grand Canyon condor, and no-named-creepy-drawn-on-baby.  I notice what may to the untrained eye be an empty chair...but I can just barely see the outline of Pup Pup's icy blue eyes.   It is here that I wonder whether wafers have been provided with tea.  

Point for playtime.

I realize my more practical "to do" list is losing the battle (4:1), but I tighten my grip on the figurative rope of this tug-of-war.  I am not ready to be defeated just yet.  I turn away, focus, and pull out my fan of paint samples.  I sit at the table and sensibly begin to ponder the colors for the play room door.

Point for Me?

Minutes later, Scarlett pulls my attention away.  She disappointingly informs me I have missed Pup Pup's tea party, but promises me that if I play rock band with her, my stage name can be "Sherlock" (she knows of my fondness for the fabled character).

It is with this thoughtful gesture that my paint sample fan transforms into a microphone as I trade in the shackles of the "to do" list for an air guitar.  I victoriously rise and hurriedly run to the stage with my partner just before the red velvet curtain rises.  The amp wails and pierces my ear, making me wonder if I have made the right decision - but the roadie runs on stage to fix the settings and for the next hour we "stick it to the man" by saluting those about to rock. 


The performance ends with me pumping my rebellious fist into the air.  With ludicrously bejeweled fingers, my victorious punch obliterates the thought bubble above my head - dispersing the sensible list into a million pieces of gold glitter that coat the whole house.

...I'll clean that tomorrow.

Reason #1: How I Know I am Watching Too Much "Star Trek"

Here is comic #1 illustrating how I know I am watching too much Star Trek.

I think only Trekkies will really appreciate this, so I hope those geeks Dan and Robbie are checking the blog.  If not, I am just amusing to myself, and that's never failed me before.

There will be more to come...  Oh yes, much more to come...

And, as a kindness to those of you unfamiliar with Star Trek...I give you the inspiration:

Unprepared...

I've never considered myself one of the more "prepared" parents.

In my personal experience - one day I was staring at a little white stick, trying not to touch the wet end, shrugging and saying, "All right, let's do this thing." And, the next thing I know, I am holding a child in my arms, thinking, 'Oh, that's what all the fuss is about,' as I gently blow on her face to rouse her from her sleep to keep me company.

It is nine years later and most days I still feel like motherhood just mostly "happens" to me.  And, I (with my husband) do our best and pray God will take care of the rest.

Even so, I've never really considered myself at a disadvantage from any of the more "prepared" moms.  I think it becomes apparent early on, that no matter how many parenting books you read...or how much money you spend on Baby Einstein videos...no matter how big your box of "someday baby" clothes is...or how many years you waited until the timing was "just right"...

You can never be prepared for the day you say:

"Are you fanning yourself with your pizza!?"

A Working Class Hero is Somethin' To Be

The girls and I have been very sick lately.

I mean, like...couch-ridden-Star-Trek-marathonin-sauntering-about-in-a-moo moo-and-Perry-the-Platypus-slippers-no-clean-laundry-no-clean-dishes-same-peanut-butter-jar-left-open-on-the-counter-for-four-days-S-I-C-K.  Sick.

The combination of being on the couch with nuthin' much to do and adoring Robert as he sweetly brought home dinner to his sick family each night (after an already long day at work) inspired me to make this very amateur comic for him.  Enjoy.

The Practical Applications of Owning a Shrink Ray

I've been daydreaming lately about what it would be like to have a shrink ray.

Sure, we all thought about it when we were kids and wanted to make the bully on the playground feel like the weakling for once - or shrink our vegetables down to a minuscule size making them easier to hide underneath our mashed potatoes.  But, the more I think about it - it seems the power to shrink something (and bring it back to its original size) at will would have many practical applications in the life of the adult.

Think of the possibilities.  I wouldn't have to buy that $400 storage shed I've been eying, I could just shrink all the Christmas decorations, tools, and baby clothes down into a box and store it under the bed.

I wouldn't need to worry about the car getting being exposed to the elements or possible thievery.  I could simply shrink it down, bring it into the house at night and restore it back to its original size in the morning.

Admittedly, I would probably pack whole bags of popcorn at home, stuff them in my purse, and sneak them into the movie theater.  On that same note, if I really decided to abuse the power, I would even store a kid in my pocket to save the admission money.

Imagine how happy my children would be when they wake up on Christmas day to find a giraffe underneath the  Christmas tree.

I could shrink my vegetables down to hide them under my mashed potatoes so the kids think I'm eating them and follow my example.

I wonder if I could localize the shrink ray to just one area, and shrink down my thighs?  Nah, that's preposterous.

Valentine's Popsicles

We did the Valentine's thing today for Audrey's class.

When these events come around where the parent is obliged to send in something, I often fantasize about Audrey bouncing into class proud to have a fun, handmade project that she and her mom have teamed up to create.  Smiling, Aud delicately passes them out, turning the best side of the project toward the eye line of the recipient.

In my fantasy, the children often say, "Wow, Audrey - These are great! Your mom must be really cool to help you make something like that."   (And a 9 year old me in my head says, "They finally accept us.")

And Audrey says, "Why, yes.  Yes she is."

Alas, my fantasy is quickly cut short by the fact that, in order to get such a reaction, I would likely have to put in...you know...lots of work, and possibly money.  So, I weigh out my options in favor of a balance between something that still feels special to Audrey, but will be practical regarding both money and time.

This year I had a couple fun ideas rolling around in my head for Valentines cards.  One idea involved taking pictures of Audrey and cutting out holes for the legs (like a vintage dancing finger doll).  I thought the recipient could get a kick out of making the pictures of Audrey dance (although, I never asked my daughter how she would feel about it...).

But, Aud got sick right before Valentine's and much of our free time was spent nursing an earache, so we came up with an easier idea instead, which included mostly things we had around the house.  We called it, "Make -a- Popsicle"

The Supplies:

1. Tang

2. Disposable cup

3. Tongue Depressor stick

4. Scrapbook Paper

5. Rubber band, glue, and tin foil

The Instructions:

• First, Aud cut out paper hearts and glued them to the top of the tongue depressor. Then she wrote each of her 26 classmates names on the tongue depressor (she wrote the names small enough that the ink would be on the "holding" part of the stick, and not on the bottom where the ink would seep into the juice.
• We filled each cup with 1 1/2 tbsp of Tang (optimal amount for numiness). 
• Next we covered the cup with a square of tin foil - this would serve to hold the Popsicle stick/tongue depressor in place both for the purposes of making the package look nice, and also for keeping it upright as the Popsicle solidifies in the freezer.  We secured the tinfoil in place with a rubber band.
• From there we cut slits in the top of the foil with a knife and inserted the sticks.  We had to cut the slits because if we tried to force the stick through, the foil would rip.
• Lastly, we made a little label for the deal that simply said, "Make -a- Popsicle".  I really wanted to put instructions for the children, but we don't currently have a printer, and we so didn't fancy writing them all out by hand.  In the end, we decided the project was simple enough that the children and the parents could probably figure it out.

So - a whole lot of fun!  This was a super simple, inexpensive project - I spent $5.00 on Tang and birthday cups.  On a side note, I think this would also make a great party gift in the summer. Most importantly, it was all stuff we could do together, and none of it was too complicated for Audrey to help with.  I can't wait for her to come home and tell me how it all went, and just how many of her friends think I'm cool.

My First Blog: An Introduction to Why I Feel My Life is Blogworthy (she types, choking back laughter)

Testing, testing...1, 2, 3.  Is this thing on?

Hello to all those out there kind, bored, or obligated enough to visit my blog!  This is a good place to say, 'Thank you (and truly)' for cyber traveling over to my little mouse hole of the internet!

                             ---------------------------------------------------------------

Long have I admired the blogging community.  Whether we like it or not - blogs have entirely reshaped our lives over the last several years.  I am not blind to the myriad of empty blogs out there - but I also feel there are those that do some good with this readily available power.  

Filled with countless tutorials and advice - a blog can help an aspiring chef find just the right recipe to make, an unemployed penny pincher  make his own laundry soap, or just inspire and instruct a mom in taking better pictures of her loved ones.  With these mini magazines online, fellow blog enthusiasts can be exposed to amazing photographs that otherwise would have not been seen (probably my favorite of all the blogging treasures), or somebody in one corner of the earth can learn about and pray for a sick child thousands of miles away.

So, why do I feel my life is blogworthy (she types, choking back laughter)?  Not sure if it is.  Pretty sure it's not.  But, it sounds like good fun, and I think if it's done right, I think I can contribute something of worth to the blogging community (ooh, and to Pinterest!).

But if you need some convincing to come back and check in once in a while: I have a really rad 100 year old cottage style house that I will be renovating, two totally excellent girls that I (with my husband) will be raising, and what I feel is a wealth of DIY and decorating ideas - some of which already made, and others stored in "the vault"  (*points dumbly at ear, realizes mistake and moves pointing finger to head*) that I will be sharing along the way. 

I guess my point is this: If my life were ever blogworthy, it is now - while my kids are still young, my house is still unfinished, and my fingers are still carpel tunnel free!

And now ve vill commense ze picture photograph showing: