Finished Projects and WIPs

Several weeks ago, we bought a crib pillow at IKEA. I had been casually looking for such a thing for a while. Elise has slept with a pillow ever since she had a bad cold several months ago, when we propped her up on a pillow to help her breathe more easily. But a regular pillow is too big for the crib, and decorative/throw/lumbar pillows seem too high for her little spine. She has been sleeping on a relatively flat throw pillow, but Andy and I were still concerned that it was too high. So when we saw the crib pillow - like a bed pillow, only smaller and very, very flat - we were very happy. And it subsequently sat in my sewing corner for weeks, patiently awaiting a pillowcase. Finally I got around to making this:

I ended up making it too big, mostly because I was scared of making it too small. Well, now I know for next time.

This is a simple fleece blanket for Elise's birthday. Fleece was on sale on Joann's recently, and I really liked this bright, flowery print. As much as I like soft, traditional, feminine decor in little girls' rooms, I am finding more and more that Elise's room is decorated with these bright, childish colors and shapes. And I like it. I think it is cheerful and fun and still feminine.

This is the first time I have used premade blanket binding. It was tricky at first, especially on the corners, but once I got the hang of it, it went pretty quickly. I wasn't sure how to tack down the mitered corners at the end. I suppose I should have done some handstitching. Can anyone tell me the best way to do that? I ended up just using a decorative machine stitch; knowing that whatever stitch I used would end up being visible, whether I wanted it to or not, I thought it would be to my advantage to make it pretty.

I have a few works in progress as well. These are coat pegs for Elise's room (once again, bright, childish colors and shapes). I've been looking for a peg or hook rack, but I haven't found any affordable ones that I like. A few bucks worth of unfinished pegs and acrylic paint from the craft store, and the problem is on its way to being solved.

I have two friends who are particularly gifted with a paintbrush, and I thought about asking one of them to paint these for me, but then I thought that even I - a known enemy of the paintbrush species - could manage six scallops and a peg. Wish me luck.

I think I showed you my little cottage quilt a while back. I pieced it in two days....and that was the end of it. It's small, about 34"x34", but I can't decide how I want to quilt it. I started free motion quilting, screwed up the tension, and had to tear it out. Now I don't know if I should just stitch in the ditch and be done with it, or try the free motion quilting again. Or maybe I'll tie it. I've never tied a quilt before.


Lastly, some Curious George favor bags for Elise's birthday party. I started to use clothesline for the handles, but I'm not sure I like that. I'll probably switch to ribbon.

Mini Vacation and Other Doings

We had a lovely four day weekend. We started out with the Arts and Crafts Fair, which is always a treat. Good artists and artisans, good food, good music. Definitely a good time. It's always fun to attend that particular Fair, too, since it is held in Andy's hometown. We always run into Andy's old friends, teachers, classmates, etc.
After browsing the Fair, we returned to Andy's parents' home, where Elise graced us with her budding pianist skills. Note the left hand turned 90-degrees from the usual playing position. Must be a sign of prodigy.

On Saturday evening, Andy and I attended his 10 year high school reunion. It was fun - there were quite a few people there with whom Andy has stayed in close contact, and I got to meet a few people about whom I have heard many stories over the years. Then a few people who apparently still have a high school mindset decided to set off some fireworks - illegally - so the rather uptight (that's the mildest version of the nicest description I can come up with) resort manager called the police, and the reunion was promptly shut down. Yep. That's right. My husband's high school reunion was raided by the police. It was okay, though. The people we knew all went to a local restaurant - aka, the bowling alley - to visit, and that was much more pleasant than the loud, crowded reunion.

Since we were out late, Andy's folks put Elise to bed at their house. We were worried that they would have a hard time. Elise is a fantastic sleeper at home, but she doesn't always do well when she has to sleep elsewhere. But when we got back, everyone was sound asleep. Yay! Above is Elise running around Grandma and Grandpa's ("Ma" and "Bampa") yard. What's that she's carrying? Oh, yes. That would be a nosegay of Grandma's flowers. Grandma's potted flowers. The kind you're not supposed to pick. Hmm.


After a couple of days spent with Andy's family - involving much relaxation, conversation, and good food - we ventured out to a lake to spend a couple of days with friends. It was so beautiful there. We stayed in the "beach cabin" (read: huge, beautiful, easily sleeps 12, fully stocked with the comforts of the most comfortable home, house) of a family who attends our church. Wow. The lake is this pristine, wonderfully inviting, pseudo-mountain lake (it's in the foothills) about an hour from our home. I didn't know it existed until recently.

Here's my little water baby. Pay no attention to the scary paleness that is my leg. Elise was a little nervous in the water, but at the same time she loved it. I am pleased with that combination of emotions. It's good to have a healthy fear of large bodies of water, while at the same time enjoying them. Elise kept asking to play in the water "some more", but unfortunately it was really only warm enough to do so on the first afternoon that we were there. This did not keep Andy from cannonballing in several times.

Wow. Beautiful. Living in the city, I forget what amazing natural beauty can be found in Washington. It's breathtaking. I mean, we have great views just a minute or two away from us, but still...a quiet mountain lake, the lake houses being on the only developed property for miles...I love it. Makes me want to get out of the city more often. That large swath through the trees in the background makes me sad.

Makes me want to live in the country, I tell you!

Elise's 2nd birthday is coming up in just a few days. We've talked about it, and she knows there is a birthday coming up...I don't know if she understands that it's hers. Today she put a paper cup upside-down on her head, as a party hat, and sang her version of "Happy Birthday". It goes something like this: "Happy Burrrrday to YOUUUU!" Repeat seven times. After singing, she put her "hat" away and matter-of-factly stated, "I want cake now." Aha.

Check it out!

My friend Janene has opened an Etsy store! She currently has a selection of her handmade cards for sale. Now, I have been the recipient of Janene's cards, so I can tell you from firsthand experience that they are fantastic. Well made, detailed, beautiful. She does a great job. So...go check it out!

Cuteness

There are a few cute things that have caught my attention lately, and I thought I'd share them with you:

Elise is really into finding shapes right now. She finds circles and squares everywhere, and has recently started to look for triangles as well. Yesterday she called me over to look at her book. "Look! It's a tri-ang-ang-angle!"

A few minutes ago, Elise turned on the television and then closed the doors of the cabinet where the TV is kept. I don't know what program was being broadcast, but it involved Native American drumming. Somehow the sound of tom-toms booming from an otherwise serene looking piece of furniture struck me as funny.

Yesterday I gave Elise some raisins with her breakfast. We tried raisins a while back, and Elise was less than thrilled with them. Yesterday, however, they were a hit. She looked at them suspiciously at first (cause, come on, raisins do not look good), so I told her that they were like berries. She tasted one and promptly announced, "It's like berries CANDY!" Well, whatever floats her boat...

Supermom Syndrome

I was just making a To Do List for the day. Tomorrow we will be heading to Andy's 10 year high school reunion (I'm afraid to blink in case another ten years go by while I do!) and the Anacortes Arts and Crafts Festival (the only year we've missed it is the weekend when Elise was due to be born - although she turned out to be little Miss Tardy, so we could have made it anyway), and then we'll be heading straight from that fun-filled weekend to spending a couple of days with friends at a nearby lake. Should be a lot of fun, a sort of mini-vacation for us. Then a few days after that will be Elise's birthday party. So...my to do list today was getting quite long. Cleaning (because I hate coming home to a mess), paying bills, packing; drafting next quarter's nursery schedule that needs to be sent out next week; returning phone calls; mailing birthday cards to two of my siblings; making a menu plan and shopping list for Elise's party. Not really terribly hard stuff, just a lot of little stuff.

And then I got this article in my email inbox. What timing! I'm not feeling particularly burned out right now, although I certainly have felt that way in the past. But it's good to get these reminders before burnout occurs, I think. It's true that people tend to think that stay-at-home moms have a lot of free time. They must, because they are at home - right? Umm...yeah, not so much. And we ourselves - or at least I myself - oftentimes think the same way. I should have time to help out with that ministry. I'm at home. Why do we discount what we do at home? Is it somehow less important than outside endeavors? I know a couple of people who are household managers. That's their job. They manage households. Is that not what I do? Is it only valid and important if a household manager manages a household other than their own? If they get paid for it? I don't think so. And I really don't feel put upon or burned out or disrespected or anything like that, as you might suspect from this post. I was just reminded by that article that I don't have to be, and in fact should not try to be, Supermom. Just "Mom" is fine by me.

Things That Make Me Smile

Just thought I'd share a few things that have made me smile this week.




This is a doll cradle that I picked up at a thrift store for Elise. Andy had to take it apart in order to properly fit the bottom piece in. Well...he had the cradle on its end while he was putting it back together...I'm guessing he was thinking about something else...and this is the result. Yeah. Big smile.


This is the daisy that Elise picked for me yesterday.




Curious George fabric found at Joann's. This is the TV version of George, not the classic version, but Elise likes both, so I'm okay with it. The differences are not as great as they are with, say, classic Pooh and Disney Pooh.

Emptying, moving, refilling, and rearranging bookshelves. The process is tiring and takes a while, but it's still fun. I keep finding books that I want to read or reread. I had to fight the urge to make a pile of books I want to read. The piles in the picture are of books to be put back onto shelves. They haven't quite made it yet.

I hope you're finding lots of reasons to smile this week.

Back to One

Anthony went back home on Saturday. We enjoyed his visit. Elise especially enjoyed having another child around. And now the house is very, very quiet.

Yesterday morning there were ten children in our church nursery. And seven of them were crying. Three extra adults ended up coming in to help, giving us a 3:5 adult to child ratio. We still had to call one grandparent back to pick up his grandson, unfortunately. The poor kid was just beside himself. I'm always disappointed when we have to call a parent to pick up their child. I would so much rather be able to comfort the child and have the child enjoy his time with us, but with the two and under crowd, that's just not always possible.

After surviving the nursery in the morning, Andy and I were tired. What do we do when we're tired? Why, rearrange furniture, of course! What, that's not relaxing? I had decided that I thought our living room and dining room were looking too cluttered, so we moved some bookshelves to other rooms and then rearranged the furniture that was left. I find rearranging furniture to be very refreshing and somewhat therapeutic. We're not entirely done yet (sorry, sweetheart), but I'm pleased with what we've done so far. And apparently the rearranging bug is going around, because when we dropped Elise off at a friend's house yesterday evening, my friend was rearranging her living room, too.

We have a nice, quiet week planned, which is to say that we have very little planned in general. I have some cleaning and home projects I'd like to do, and a few sewing projects that have been forming shape in my mind for a while, and I think Elise and I will check out the story hour at the library. I like my life. I have no complaints. I was just thinking about that the other night as Andy and I were sitting on the sofa watching Elise dance around the living room. So much of what we had hoped for when we were first married has already come to pass. When we were first married, Andy was in graduate school and I was working at a pediatric hospital. I think we both enjoyed our work well enough, but knew that we wanted it to be short-term. Andy liked school, but he has always wanted to work "in industry", engineering designs and products. I found healthcare to be very rewarding, but knew that I wanted to raise a family. And now, five years later, Andy has his industry job doing things that I can only sort of understand, and I am a stay at home mom. And even though we still have hopes and goals for the future, I was just thinking that if I make chocolate milk every day for the rest of my life, I'll be happy.

I know that we'll have worse days than today and we'll have better days than today, and I pray that we will be content no matter what kind of day we find ourselves in. Contentment is an idea that fascinates me. It's so interesting. To be content no matter the circumstance; to have your joy be completely independent of ambition or success; and yet not to give in to complacency. It's such a fascinating concept, so beautiful, and so countercultural. And I know that it's something I haven't fully grasped. I know that if I'm not content in all circumstances, then I'm not content at all, I'm merely pacified temporarily. And I know that - and this is the part that ties my stomach in knots and puts a lump in my throat - being content in the face of financial hardship or material disappointment is not enough. True contentment would require me to be content in the face of great loss. Would I be content without Andy or Elise? Just thinking about that brings tears to my eyes. I can't fathom life without either of them. But you know, the more I think about it, the more I believe that I need to be content right now, with the situation in which I find myself today. Today I have a healthy family, and I can rejoice in that and be content. If the day ever comes when, God forbid, I should have to live without one of them, I trust that God will provide the strength and peace required at that time. I don't need to imagine every possible hardship today and wonder whether I would be content with it. I just need to be content today.

Well, thanks for sticking with me while I hashed that out! Now I need to go and find some socks because my feet are very cold. I am content with my cold feet, but in order to not be complacent, I must find socks.

Life With Two Kids, Day Four

I have been so amazed at how this week has progressed. At the beginning of the week, I thought that having more than one child while still being a relatively calm person was an impossible feat. Now, a few days later, I am back to thinking that it is altogether do-able. Andy is probably dubious since I am still rather frazzled by the time he gets home from work, but I know that the way I feel today and the way I felt three days ago are worlds apart. And this is very good news for me.

As I predicted, my house has suffered greatly this week, although not as much as I originally thought. Three days ago I was waiting for federal officials to show up and declare us a disaster area. Today...well, it's not clean, but the dishes and laundry are done, and that makes me happy.

So...here are some lessons I have learned:

1. Children respond well to consistency. (Okay, so I knew that before, but it has been confirmed over and over again this week.)
2. Lucky Charms and milk are a disgusting combination.
3. Children think that Lucky Charms are wonderful. (Elise, having never had a cereal more sugary than Yogurt Burst Cheerios, immediately dubbed the Lucky Charms "candy cereal".)
4. My husband is really, really good with kids. (I already knew this one, too, but it also has been confirmed repeatedly this week.)
5. The concerns and trials of a child are just as valid and just as heavy as those of an adult, no matter how insignificant they may seem to an adult's mind.

#5 is something I've thought about a lot. It's so easy for us adults to belittle or ignore the problems of children. We know that in the long run, a broken toy is meaningless; a dead goldfish is inconsequential; an embarrassing moment on the playground is just a part of growing up. We think that children should enjoy their childhoods while they can, because once they become adults they will have real problems. If problems were on a spectrum, we would see a child's problem at the low value end and our own problems at the high value end.

But then I think of God's perspective. What must our "real", adult problems look like to God? A broken marriage; a deceased loved one; an irreparable career mistake. What do these problems look like from God's perspective? I suspect that the spectrum looks vastly different from heaven. I don't believe there would be any differentiation between the problems of children and the problems of adults.

I don't think that our problems are insignificant to God. I believe that He, as a perfect and loving Father, cares deeply about the concerns of our lives. But I think that the 20 or 40 or 60 years that separates us from our children are insignificant. I don't believe that He takes the sorrow that a child experiences over a dead fish any less seriously than He takes the sorrow that an adult feels over the death of a friend. (That is not to say that the roots of the sorrows are equivalent - certainly a person is more valuable than a goldfish.) I also think that our "big" problems present no more of a challenge to Him than the "small" problems of our children do. God can heal a broken marriage more easily than I can fix a broken toy. In the big scheme of things, from now until eternity, my problems would not even be a smidgen past a child's problem on the spectrum. God, Who sees everything across all eternity, can see the solution and the end of my problem even more clearly than I can see the solution and end to my child's problem.

Last night Anthony told me that he had been hit in the chest by a soccer ball at sports camp, and that it hurt and knocked his breath out of him for a second. He told me that he cried because it hurt, but he tried really hard to not let the coaches or other kids see that he was crying. His biggest concern was not that he was hurt; it was that he was embarrassed. I found his story to be sweet and sad, and of course I know that in the long run, his few seconds of embarrassment on the soccer field are inconsequential. But last night, that was the most important thing to Anthony. It worried him and occupied his thoughts. Andy and I have had our own trials recently. They have worried me and occupied my thoughts. Are my trials any bigger, any more important in God's eyes than Anthony's trials? I really don't think so.

These thoughts have had a twofold effect on my life. First, I have a greater appreciation for the concerns of a child. There is a bit of a joke in children's ministry that refers to how frequently those who work in children's ministry pray for grandmas and cats. It's true. I've worked with children from birth through junior high, and as soon as they can talk, their prayer requests are for grandparents and pets. As they move closer to junior high, the requests start to include friends, usually friends who have offended them in some way. "I want to pray that they would, umm, not be so mean anymore." Praying down the prayer request list on my own later in the week is always interesting. Cat, cat, grandma, toe, cat, cat, math test, hamster. I find myself having to first pray that God would honor each child's request despite my own flippancy and cynicism. So the idea that the concerns and problems of a child are every bit as serious and valid to God as my own concerns and problems helps me to take a child's concerns and problems seriously. To say that my own are bigger, more important, seems rather elitist. We all have our cross to bear, and a child's cross is just as heavy on their shoulders as my cross is on mine.

Second, these thoughts have given me a greater appreciation for the way that God treats my concerns. I picture Him looking upon me and my problems as a loving Father whose heart goes out to me because He recognizes my sorrow or disappointment or fear; and at the same time He can see the solution and/or end to the problem, and will guide me to that solution or end if I will trust Him.

Well, I certainly didn't mean to ramble on and on about these things. It's just something I've thought about frequently in the years that I've worked with children, and Anthony's soccer accident last night reminded of it yet again. Today is our last full day with Anthony, so I'd better go enjoy his company while I can!

Life With Two Kids, Day Three

Much better! We had a few challenging moments yesterday, but for the most part I think we're used to each other now and can have fun without wondering how the other person is going to react. My genius of a husband came up with a system to encourage Anthony to listen. It's very simple. He taped a piece of paper to the wall and drew a line down the middle of the paper. On the left side, we make a tick mark every time Anthony does not listen the first time we tell him something. On the right side, we make a tick mark every time he does listen the first time. As a bit of extra positive incentive, we have decided that every time he gets two good marks, we will erase one bad mark. We did not integrate any sort of reward into this system. We just told Anthony that we would be giving the paper to his parents at the end of the week. They've already told him that his allowance this week will be determined by how he behaves while he is here, just as it is at home. Anyway, our little tick mark system seems to be working so far. As soon as Andy explained it, Anthony got all excited. He said, "Umm, Aunt Holly, do you think you could give me some instruction or something?" I was confused at first, but then I got it. He wanted me to tell him to do something so that he could listen the first time, thus getting a positive mark. I had to laugh, then I told him to take off his sports camp tshirt (something he hadn't wanted to do all day) so I could wash it. The shirt was immediately thrown onto the laundry pile, and Anthony got a mark on the right side of his paper.

Yesterday was a pretty good day. We went to the park where Anthony promptly befriended some kids a little bit older than himself. This was great as it left me free to watch Elise closely. Both kids had a good time. Anthony even got a kid's email address. This kid beat Anthony at a game of Yu-Gi-Oh (I have absolutely no idea how one plays Yu-Gi-Oh, but these boys loved it. So much for running off energy at the park!), and Anthony promptly salvaged his pride by telling the boy that he (Anthony) was the best Yu-Gi-Oh player in the state of Oregon. Since we are in Washington, he could say that while still admitting defeat to his new friend. Then after the park we went to the grocery store. Not a fun trip, as both kids were tired and...well, so was I. But we got back on track once we got home, put Elise to bed, and gave Anthony some lunch. The boy ate five slices of pizza, an apple, and a cup of blueberries. It was amazing.

I'm hoping to take the kids back to the park today, since it was such a hit yesterday. We also have to make one more trip to the doctor's office...wish me luck! Monday's visit came right at Elise's naptime, and that made for a most unpleasant time. I'll plan the timing better today.

Bridge Passage

As Andy and I suspected, our first two days with our nephew, Anthony, were a little bit trying for all of us, nephew included. You know how it goes. It's a new house, he's unsure of the rules, and if it so happens that we let him get away with something he wouldn't get away with at home, fantastic. (That would be from his point of view, of course.) So we have done our best to be fair and consistent and clear with our rules and instructions, and we have felt rather like party poopers these last couple of days as most of our dialogue with Anthony has been of a negative persuasion. We were hoping that that would last only for a couple of days, and that once we all got used to each other, we would be able to keep pleasant company. Well, it's early on Day 3, and I think we may be on the right track.

I got up before Anthony this morning (first time that has happened) and felt quite rested. I've been a little under the weather for the last week, and have been rather tired, so it was nice to wake up and feel awake. Strong coffee didn't hurt, either. I made pancakes and eggs for breakfast, the kids have been great, and we're going to go to the park in a little while. I think that is a recipe for a good day. I'm even hopeful that I'll be able to fold and put away the load of clean laundry that has been sitting here for three days. We'll see.

Life With Two Kids, Day Two

Tiiiiirrrreeeddd.

Eight year olds are funny creatures. Last night I was changing Elise's diaper and noticed my nephew's confused and curious look. He has a younger brother, but the only girl in his house is his mom. I was amused, but I didn't say anything. After a few seconds, my nephew hesitantly asked, "Aunt Holly? What is her middle called?" I told him that I would tell him, but he had to understand that it was a grown up word and he was not to use it casually when talking to his friends. He agreed. So I told him the clinical term. (At this point Andy hollered to me from the other room, "You're gonna get in trouble!") He repeated it once, awkwardly, then fell silent for a minute. Finally he said, "Aunt Holly? I think it would be better if you just called it a wee-wee." Well, okay.

Here are some more things I have learned in my short time with two kids:

1. To an eight year old, the WalMart toy department is a mecca.
2. Eight year old boys require privacy at odd times, such as when they are counting Yu-Gi-Oh cards. Using the restroom is apparently not a time when privacy is required, as evidenced by doors left wide open.
3. Neither eight year old boys nor two year old girls appreciate unexpected doctors' appointments, even when the appointment is not for them. Eight year old boys, though, at least have the decency to point out that they are pleased that you are the one getting the shots, not them.
4. Two year old girls do not forget when they have been promised M&Ms. This is especially awkward when their mother has forgotten to purchase said M&Ms.
5. Eight year old boys do not forget when you have told them that once they pay for their chosen goods, they will not be allowed to go back into the store for something else. This is especially awkward when their aunt has forgotten to purchase M&Ms for their cousin. See #4.

We're still having a good time. Elise and her cousin are getting along fabulously. My nephew is really very good with Elise most of the time, and I am pleased that they can play together despite their age difference.

Life With Two Kids, Day One

My nephew is visiting us this week. He is almost eight years old, and he is a riot. Sometimes his questions and logic leave me with no idea how to answer him. We're having a good time so far. I've also developed a greater respect for parents of multiple children. Wow. The coordination that it takes to make two children, six years apart in age, content at the same time is remarkable. To my great delight, they both like Sesame Street. That was a blissful hour.

So, here are a few things that I've learned in the last 15 hours of having two kids in my care:

1. As nice as it is to sit quietly and read or watch television after the children are asleep, it is more beneficial to just go to bed. Children do not like to sleep in.
2. Eight year olds do not fit into baby swings.
3. Explanations for "no" do not work and are unnecessary.
4. Most themes of an eight year old's favorite songs are gross and involve bodily functions and/or foul-smelling things. If they can be sung using a monster truck rally voice (which sounds more like Donald Duck in an eight year old) and belches, all the better.

I'm sure the week holds many more lessons for me. Now it's time to wrestle two kids into their respective carseats. Again, I have newfound respect for parents of multiple children.

I can't explain it.

Sometimes I have strange priorities when it comes to housekeeping. Yesterday, for instance, I was bothered by the state of our heat vents. They've been bugging me for a while. It was one of those things that I've noticed while in the middle of other tasks, and I've made a mental note to clean them. That's been going on for a while now. I feel like it's a task that keeps popping up on my to do list, and I keep hitting the "Remind Me Again in One Week" button, a la MS Outlook. But yesterday I couldn't look at them any longer. They had to be cleaned. I only cleaned three of the nine vents, but they are the three that have been bugging me - the bathroom and dining room vents. It took longer than I expected, too.

So this is what I find interesting. I really wanted to clean the vents. The dust and grime that had built up in them was disgusting. But in the overall cleanliness and appearance of the house, the vents are small fry. Right now my kitchen is a big mess...but my vents are clean! Is that nitpicky?

I kind of enjoy the challenge of balancing the big picture work and the detailed work of running a home. Sometimes it's frustrating, especially when I overwhelm myself by listing all of the things that I'd like to clean on a regular basis; but for the most part, it's a satisfying tension. If I only took care of the details, then my family would live in chaos. There would be no clean dishes, no clean laundry, the floors would be gross. But if I only took care of the big ticket items, then I would feel like I was doing a mediocre job. I certainly haven't found that perfect balance yet, and my house is nowhere near as regularly clean as I would like it to be, but I am enjoying the learning process and the balancing act.

What Goes Around, Comes Around.

I'm still working on Ronald Reagan's autobiography. He tells a story of when he was governor of California during the days of college campus riots. The University of California students sent a delegation of student leaders from all nine campuses to meet with Reagan. He describes these students as being "anti-establishment". The students started their meeting with this disclaimer:

"Governor, we want to talk to you, but I think you should realize that it's impossible for you to understand us...It's sad, but it's impossible for the members of your generation to understand your own children...You weren't raised in a time of instant communications or satellites and computers solving problems in seconds that previously took hours or days or even weeks to solve. You didn't live in an age of space travel and journeys to the moon, of jet travel or high speed electronics..."

I love Reagan's response. He said:

"You're absolutely right. We didn't have those things when we were your age. We invented them."

I'm going to remember that line for when my kids are old enough to think I'm old-fashioned and out of touch with modern life.

I also thought it was really interesting that those students were saying those things in the late 1960s. I wonder if those students were able to see the irony when their own children - my generation - said the same thing to them. I know that people my age accuse our parents, who came of age in the late 1960's, of not understanding us because they were raised in such different times. We tell them that they do not understand this age of computers, high speed electronics, and instant communication. And I'm sure our children will say the same thing to us.

I remember once in high school when my best friend was explaining a teenaged dilemma to her mother. She was saying, "You don't understand, Mom, it's different from when you were in high school." Her mother responded, "Well, it's not, but you're going to think that it is, so go ahead." She knew that she could understand the pressure and difficulties her daughter was facing, but she also understood that her daughter would never believe that she understood them. I think that was very wise of her.

There really is nothing new under the sun.

Tired

We had a great time at the Mariners' game last night, despite the fact that the M's were clobbered by the Orioles. We took the bus to the stadium, which was fantastic. I had my reservations at first, not wanting to be waiting for a bus in SoDo late at night with thousands of drunk, disappointed fans; but as it turned out, the buses were lined up outside the stadium, just waiting to take us all right back to our cars. (Yeah, I didn't take a bus all the way from my house. Just from the park 'n' ride.) Door-to-door service for $1.25. Can't beat that.

One of my favorite moments in the game was when one of the Orioles ran to first base. I know, that shouldn't be my favorite moment. But there were two young women sitting behind us, clearly not the world's biggest baseball fans (they left in the 4th inning), and when the Orioles' batter made it to base, one young lady turned to the other and exclaimed in a loud, pouty voice, "I thought he was going to get striked out!" Striked out. If only we had striked out more Orioles.

So we had a good time. And now I'm tired. I can't complain, though. Andy got up and went to work at 6:30 as usual this morning. I was not awake at 6:30.

I think Starbucks should deliver.

Calling All Readers

Have you seen this? It's pretty cool. Andy has already had several of his books requested, and has received one that he requested. I am slower and just posted some of my books yesterday. Seems like a good system to me. I know that I own a lot of books that I'll probably never read again, so why not trade them in for books I want to read? And while the program is called Paperback Swap, you are not limited to listing or requesting only paperbacks.

Just thought I'd share.

Oh, dear.

We're out of regular coffee.

All we have is the decaf that we keep on hand for company.

Think my brain will notice the difference?

Yeah, I think so, too.

Cute Kid and Other Assorted News

Elise's desire to communicate oftentimes exceeds her verbal abilities. For a while now, her requests to be held have come out something like this: "I want Mommy/Daddy to hold you". It is absolutely adorable. She'll run up to me, hold up her arms, and say, "Mommy, I want to hold you"...meaning, of course, "Mommy, I want you to hold me". Very cute. Well, like I said, this has been going on for a while now, and Andy and I have started trying to teach Elise to use the pronoun "me". So this morning when she made her usual request, I corrected her. "Say, 'I want Mommy to hold me'." Didn't work. Oh, well. Then, a couple of hours later, she surprised me. She ran up to me, held up her arms, and said, "I want Mommy to hold you-me." How could I resist?

We've had such a lovely time these past few days. The weather has been so beautiful that we've eaten dinner outside the last three nights in a row, and friends have been involved each time. That's my kind of summer. Casual dinners eaten outdoors with friends. Last night's dinner was a going away of sorts for our pastor and his wife. It was a bittersweet time.

Tonight Andy and I will be going to the Mariners' game. When we were dating and first married, we went to at least one game a year. In recent years, though, we haven't made it. I'm excited! Elise will get some good Grandma and Grandpa time, and Andy and I will get some good child-free time. And maybe a hotdog. Keep your fingers crossed for the M's.

Mid-July. That means it's time to start thinking about Christmas...

Bag Month

I finally pulled a project from my scary, overflowing project box. It didn't make a dent in the box, but that's okay.

I made this summer bag using an orphaned pillowcase. While my husband does not understand how I could possibly need another bag, I think he is pleased that this particular pillowcase ended up the way it did, and not on our bed. I have already subjected him to flowery pillowcases. I think sleeping on hydrangea bouquets would have sent him over the edge.

Kickin' Back

What could be better than chocolate milk, a good book, and a comfortable seat?
I love that she can rest her head and entire torso on a throw pillow.

Recipe and Good Blogs

I recently made this Lemonade Layer Cake, and it was really good. I didn't have cream cheese on hand, so I didn't make the frosting. I just used a store-bought buttercream, and then put sliced strawberries on top. Yum, yum, yum. Next time I'll put in more lemon rind - 1 T didn't make it quite lemon-y enough for my tastes. Of course, using the lemon frosting probably would have helped, too. This cake is definitely best when it is chilled.

I have enjoyed and been inspired by several blog posts recently and thought I'd share them with you. Some are sewing/craft blogs, others are thought-provoking writings about life.

The Merry Church Mouse has posted about her progress on this beautiful Moda quilt. I love these fabrics.

Artsy Crafty Babe has turned plain white onesies into darling little fashion statements.

Randi at I Have To Say has made these pretty totes. I just love how they look all lined up like that.

Creative Little Daisy shares her gratitude for some daily "problems".

My husband reminds us that the way we spend our time reflects our true priorities.

Randi at I Have To Say (again - what can I say, she's inspiring!) talks about what babies really need from their mothers.

Crazy Mom Quilts is one of my favorite craft blogs. If you're into craft blogs, you really should just read the whole thing. Some of my recent favorite posts include this beautiful bright quilt and this bib tutorial (I tried it out - her instructions are flawless, and the bib turned out great!)

Craft Apple is very generous with her tutorials. My favorites are the Chenille-Backed Baby Blanket; the Patchwork Notebook Cover; and the Patchwork Notecards.

There are many, many more, but I think this list should keep you busy for a while.

Gardens and Cakes

After acquiring some heavy duty gardening gloves over the weekend, I tackled the "garden" again. Isn't it pretty? Just kidding. Wish I had taken a "before" picture. See the dead grass in front of and the weeds in back of the plot? Just imagine the whole thing filled with those. That's what it looked like. Now it's time for some flowers.


After our yard work was done, Elise and I rewarded ourselves with some milk and strawberry-lemon cake. Elise used the two-handed, scarf it down method. I preferred a fork.




I'm not sure why all of a sudden most of my photos are out of focus. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that my husband no longer leaves the camera on the "Photography for Dummies" setting, the one that worked well for me. I can't blame him. We've had the camera long enough now that I should know how to adjust it. Okay, honey, I'm ready to learn. Let's just start with the basics - and remember that our definitions of "basics" are different.

Summer Days

It's Monday. I went to bed last night feeling exhausted after a full weekend, and woke up this morning feeling refreshed and glad to start a new week. I love that.

We really had a good weekend. We ran errands - Andy handled Costco, I handled Joann's. I'm pretty much okay with that arrangement. We did some weekend projects at home - cleaned out the car and garage, mowed the yards (entirely Andy), made strawberry jam. Sadly, two of the seven jars didn't seal, and we had already made an extra jar that we didn't process, so now we have three jars of jam in the refrigerator. We just don't eat that much jam. I guess I'll try freezing it. Anyway. We visited some friends and their brand new baby in the hospital on Saturday. His name is John, but Elise immediately dubbed him Baby Non. Now the baby boys in her life are Baby Men (Ben) and Baby Non. On Sunday we went to a birthday party for a 2-year old friend...very fun and very energetic. Elise got pretty cranky - cake, ice cream, candy, and being the littlest person in a large group of kids will do that to you - so we left a bit early. Throw church into the mix, and all in all it was a good weekend.

I started reading Ronald Reagan's autobiography this weekend. It's a large book, but so far it's easy to read. I may slow down a bit when he starts talking about politics, as I'm just not knowledgeable enough in that area to breeze through chapters about foreign policy, but these early chapters about growing up in small town Illinois are familiar. I feel like I'm getting a glimpse of my grandparents' childhoods, as they also grew up in rural and small town Illinois at the same time as Reagan. It has been a long time since I've read an autobiography, and I think I'll want to read more after this one. The writing may not be the best - most autobiographers are not professional writers - but I appreciate the personal details of the story. Biographers can tell you the facts, but they can't usually tell you about the lessons learned in small moments of childhood that shaped the person's way of thinking.

Well, Monday is well under way now, and it's time to work. Laundry and vacuuming are on the list today, and oddly enough, I'm kind of looking forward to them.

My Better Half's 100th Post

You should read it. It's good.

Not-So-Extreme Makeover: Home Edition

I started looking around my home yesterday and was discouraged by the sight of several very cluttered, disorganized, tired areas. So I decided to clean them up and play photojournalist at the same time. Here are my before and after pictures:

This is the windowsill in my kitchen.


They say that collections look better when the items are grouped together. I agree. I never intended to collect pitchers, but somehow I did.



This is the bar that separates our kitchen and dining room. It is the biggest clutter collector in our house. Everything ends up there, as you can see.


Much better.

Let's play Where's The Printer?, shall we?

Ah, there it is!

The top of the microwave - aka, spare key excavation site.

I even set the clock! No more 0:00.

The bathroom sink. Not exactly the most pleasant thing to see right before going to bed, or right after waking up.

Doesn't my toothbrush look happier?

Our nightstand. I've kept those candleholders out for...uh...years. Cause I like them. I've had candles in them...uh...twice?

I love being able to see surfaces.

I feel much better now.

Another chore I did yesterday was cleaning the dishwasher. It was...gross. The dishwasher hadn't been draining well, so I tackled the drain. Ew. But it was a very satisfying job to complete, and I now feel quite secure about the cleanliness of my dishes. That's always nice.

Today's project was supposed to be yard work. I headed outside to weed the "garden". By garden I mean 3'x6' raised pasture. It was supposed to be a garden, but when you let it go until July 6 without doing anything - anything, including tilling and planting - then it becomes a jungle of grass, clover, dandelions, and thorns. Nice. So I set out to empty it of all wild plants (that would be all green life currently in it), thinking that I would then put in some nice, super easy flower seeds or something. I grabbed the hoe and went to work. 25 minutes, a garbage bag's worth of weeds, an allergy flare-up, and one painful popped blister later, I was inside seeking iced tea and triple antibiotic ointment. What a wimp I've become! After Elise's nap this afternoon, we'll be heading to the local nursery in search of good gardening gloves and some easy-to-plant plants, preferably already in bloom, for some incentive to finish the job.

I'm not a gardener. Not at all. My mom is a propagation manager at a very large nursery. Maybe the green thumb gene is the kind that skips a generation. Maybe I should turn the yard over to Elise. Hmm. Anyway, I would like to be a gardener. I'm just realizing and accepting that it's something I have to practice. I have to cultivate and weed and plant and weed and water and weed and fertilize and weed. I can't just look at our jungle and sigh and wonder why it isn't beautiful. I am rather impatient when it comes to learning. If something doesn't come naturally to me, I get discouraged, and I tend to avoid things that I know don't come naturally to me - sports, art, etc. I'm not proud of this fact, but I am glad that I recognize it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step towards solving it, right? Thus...gardening. Baby steps.

I really do sew.

I know that I profess to sew and then very rarely produce evidence to support that claim. So here are a few recent projects.


This is a quilt that I cut out last night. It'll be small and very simple, and it'll probably end up in Elise's room, given the girly floweriness of the fabrics.


This is my scary project box. When Andy and I rearranged the basement, I threw all abandoned postponed projects into this bin. It contains chair cushions to be repaired, clothing to be repaired, pillowcases to be turned into these bags, cross stitch projects, a tablerunner to be embroidered, and two unfinished quilts.


This is my first attempt at sewing clothes. (Except for once when I was twelve and my mom tried to teach me to sew a dress for myself. I picked out a pattern and fabric, and I think I may have put on a few buttons. Mom ended up doing the rest. It turned out well!) This is a dress for Elise, although it's a little too big around the middle, so I guess I should add a sash. I caught too much fabric when sewing the bodice to the skirt, so I'll need to redo that. I'm really diggin' the 5/8" seam allowance...much more forgiving than the strict 1/4" used in quilting.

And here are some pretty things that have found their way into our home recently:

This sweet little embroidery is on a pillowcase that I picked up for $.50 at a thrift store. It's not vintage, but I thought it was really sweet. I'm so glad I have a little girl and thus can bring home pink pillowcases with embroidered kittens on them, without getting funny looks from my husband. Okay, so I still get funny looks, but at least now I can say, "It's for Elise!" - unlike when we were just married and I bought a Strawberry Shortcake twin sheet at an antique store (really, should things from the 80s be in antique stores already?). I might be a tad nostalgic.


I also brought home another $.50 pillowcase, this one truly vintage. The fabric is so soft, the way good linens get after years and years of use. It, too, is embroidered, with pink dogwood flowers. I love dogwoods. I was thrilled to find that our neighbor has a big dogwood tree that hangs over our fenceline. (I wasn't quite as thrilled when the blooms fell and I had to rake up all the dead pits.) When I was growing up, we had two dogwood trees (plus a few saplings here and there, but two that left an impression). They were both wild. One grew at the edge of the shaded lane that wrapped around one side of our property, and it looked so pretty with its white flowers against the backdrop of big oak and maple and hickory trees. The other was magnificent. It was hidden in our woods, in the "second clearing". Our woods were pretty thick, but my dad and brother cut a path through them. I didn't think much of it at the time, but looking back I realize that that must have been a huge job! My brother and his friend even built log bridges over the little streams so we could ride our bikes through the woods. Ah, memories. Anyway, so you'd walk through the woods until you hit the first clearing, which was just a small meadow in the middle of the woods. Then you'd walk some more, go over the little stream, and then hit the second clearing...another small meadow. This one was beautiful. It had a giant cedar tree on one side, and a huge, amazing wild dogwood tree on the other. We didn't go back there very often, as it was pretty deep into the woods (deep for a child), but I remember whenever we first saw the dogwood in bloom each spring, we'd run back to the house to tell everyone else about it. It was a beautiful tree. I liked that it was hidden. I liked that we had to go through the woods to see it. It was like our own little secret garden. I still like "hidden" beauty, details in my home that only my family and I would ever see. I should cultivate those details more.


Some friends of ours recently gave us a big box of assorted Franciscan dishes. They are moving and are cleaning out their attic and garage, and decided not to take these with them. I've always liked this set. I like that they are simple and pretty and practical. They also go very well with the dogwood pillowcase, don't you think? Unfortunately, there is not much call for matching one's bed linens with one's dishes.

I thought it was too quiet...

This is what happens when you give a toddler rigatoni and a cup with a straw.

Woman to Woman

I've followed the Woman to Woman posts before, but have never participated. The assignment is "Share an important quote and what it means to you". Well...that's a tough one for me. I like quotations. I keep a small notebook where I write down quotes that are especially meaningful to me, usually ones that are too long for me to easily commit to memory. C.S. Lewis, Mother Teresa, Tolstoy, Philip Yancey, and passages of Scripture are written there. I usually flip through that book when I am dusting the shelf on which it lives, and I always find encouragement and inspiration, no matter what mood I am in. So the difficulty does not lie in a shortage of quotes. This assignment is difficult for me because I am an indecisive person. There are too many choices!

Okay, seriously, the quote I have chosen for today is not exactly Tolstoy material. It is a simple phrase that I am borrowing from the BSA, one that has helped me to overcome mountains of laundry and herds of dust bunnies.

"Be prepared."

That's it. Nothing too profound.

I try to remind myself of this simple principle as I go about my day. For me, being prepared means staying on top of things. It means that on days like today, when I do not have any commitments outside of my home, I need to take care of the laundry and the cleaning and other household responsibilities, for two reasons. First, so that on the days when I do have outside commitments, I can focus wholeheartedly on them without being distracted by thoughts of what needs to be done at home. Second, so that I can freely accept opportunities as they arise. Andy and I try very hard to be available to good opportunities. I do not mean ladder of success opportunities, but rather opportunities to build and strengthen friendships, to help others, to enjoy each other, to learn. And we are constantly amazed by how frequently those opportunities present themselves. Of course there are times when we need to be intentional about them. We need to seek out a friend whom we haven't seen in a while, or choose a study with our small group that will challenge us, or arrange for a babysitter so we can spend time alone together. But more often than not, life presents unsolicited opportunities, and we do our best to remain flexible enough to accept the ones that fit us.

I guess another way of looking at it, for me, (can you tell I'm just thinking this through as I write?) is keeping my home and personal life in order. That is not to say I am always successful at this. I procrastinate, I dawdle, I get distracted, sometimes I'm just plain lazy. But at those times when things are in order, I inevitably appreciate it. When we have unexpected company, I am always grateful for the time spent cleaning the house earlier in the week. When Elise gets sick, I appreciate that the towels and sheets are all clean. When there is an emergency, I'm so glad the gas tank is full. And when a friend brings their baby home from the hospital (there are so many babies in our circle of friends right now...), I am thankful for an organized kitchen (always Andy's doing) with all the necessary ingredients to make an extra meal or two. And I hope I'm not giving the impression that this happens all the time. We are not always ready for these curve balls. There are times when we have unexpected company and I quickly throw piles of clutter into our bedroom and close the door. More than one of our new-parent-friends have been given dinners of pre-packaged pasta or soup, lovingly prepared by the kind chefs at Costco. I had to stop for gas on the way to a friend's house when she was in labor. (Did I ever tell you that, Beth?) These things happen.

So the moral of my way-too-long story is that "Be prepared" is a simple phrase that propels me through the laundry, the vacuuming, the errands, the phone calls. Nothing fancy. Just a reminder to keep going when the meaningfulness of my daily work escapes me.

Life

When I was a kid, I thought it must be so great to be an adult. Adults could go to bed when they wanted to. No one told them what to eat (or, more importantly, what not to eat). Adults got to choose what they watched on television. They did not have to follow anyone else's rules. I thought that adults answered to no one, which in my mind was the greatest freedom imaginable.

Now I am an adult, and I can smile at that childish way of thinking. It's true that the liberties are nice. I'm glad there is no one telling me what to eat or when to go to bed. But being a "grown up" is so much more complex than I could have imagined as a child.

Yesterday our pastor announced his resignation. He is not leaving out of any sense of animosity or hostility. He has not been offered a job elsewhere. He and his wife simply believe that God is calling them to leave. This came as a great shock to our congregation. Our pastor started our church thirteen years ago. He was an associate pastor at another congregation in our area, and he and his wife were called to minister in a neighboring town. They and some other families from their old church started meeting in a school, I believe, in the town to which our pastor was called to serve. They grew and moved into a renovated office space in a business park. The space was a cookie factory before the church moved in. They were in that space for a number of years - I want to say nine or ten - and that is where they were when Andy and I started to attend. We were newly engaged and looking for a church that we could attend together. We had visited many different churches - everything from a very traditional Lutheran church to a tiny, struggling Bible church where we were told, in no uncertain terms, that Democrats are among the damned (we were so told by the pastor's wife, who did not bother to ask about our political views first) to a rock 'n' rollin', 15-full-time-pastors, you-need-opera-glasses-to-see-the-speaker megachurch. The process of finding a church home is tiring. After months of looking, a distant relative invited us to attend their church, a family-like congregation that met in an old cookie factory. It was a bit of a drive - Andy and I both lived in the city at the time, and the church was about 20 miles away - but it was worth it. I may be misremembering, but I think we did not visit another church after that.

The church was not perfectly suited to our desires. We found very few people our age there. The music, while superbly executed by a professional conductor (they didn't intentionally hire a conductor; he happened to be a congregant and offered his services), was definitely more to the liking of, ahem, older generations. There were many physical constraints due to the building structure, and when I taught the kindergarten Sunday School class, I found those constraints to be very frustrating. But those things were cosmetic. We found the congregation to be worshipful, prayerful, and hospitable. And we found the pastor to be completely above reproach.

Shortly after we started attending the church, we joined a small group at the pastor's house. We were the youngest by far - 22 and 21 - and we were welcomed by all. They all took great interest in our wedding plans, prayed with us through difficult family times, and encouraged us as Andy searched for a job. (He had been working at an aerotech company and, like so many others, was laid off after September 11.) It was a great group.

We really got to know our pastor and his wife in that group. We found them to be kind, virtuous, and intelligent. They were obviously devoted to prayer and to God's Word. They were completely submitted to the lordship of Jesus. Andy and I asked the pastor if he would lead us in premarital counseling, even though we had already asked Andy's childhood pastor to perform our wedding ceremony. Our pastor agreed and refused to take payment for his services.

A few years into attendance, we had a major disagreement with the way our church leadership dealt with a conflict within the congregation. Some friends of ours - the subjects of the disagreement - left the church on very negative terms, and Andy and I felt bruised by the experience. We, too, considered leaving, but after much prayer and discussion, we decided that we would not let a tiff separate us from the church. We do not want to "church hop". So we stayed, and we have never regretted it.

Three years ago our pastoral staff changed somewhat. Our beloved associate pastor, a wise teacher, moved to be close to his grandchildren and to answer God's call to him to minister to pastors and their families. He is still missed. Our church hired two people to "replace" him - one associate pastor to share in the teaching responsibilities, and one part time associate pastor to take on the role of business administrator. Godly men both. A year after they were hired, our congregation moved into their own building, which we had spent several years planning and building. Two years after that - that would be just a few months ago - the new full time associate pastor announced that he was leaving, also to be near his grandchildren and to fill a different ministry role to which he felt called. (I'm seeing a trend.) So, as you can see, the last 3 years have been full of change for our congregation. We are now in our own, rather large, building. We have grown to such numbers that it is impossible to recognize everyone. We've taken to implementing the policies that large churches must have these days, such as security procedures in the nursery to ensure that only custodial parents pick up their children. Sad but necessary measures. The musical style has adapted to the growing congregation, not without growing pains and heated discussions. There are now many people our age in the church, and some of them have become close friends of ours. And through it all, our pastor has remained a steady and calm leader, trusting and obeying God in everything, and teaching us to do the same.

And now he is leaving. Andy and I, and our entire congregation, are filled with sadness. Ironically, we just became members of the church last night, during the same meeting at which our pastor announced his resignation. I can honestly say that this man is the most humble person I have ever met. There is not a shadow of a hint of pride in him. I think it must be easy for a pastor to submit to pride, especially one who has led a congregation through such growth, but in six years I have never once glimpsed any pride whatsoever in him.

Sorry does not begin to describe our feelings about his departure. Of course the announcement is new, so no one knows what is to come. We don't know where our pastor's family is going (they don't even know), and we don't know who will come to replace them. We trust in God's sovereignty and grace. We are thankful that this parting has come out of our pastor and his wife's obedience to God, not out of dissension or animosity. But we are very sad.

Being an adult isn't as easy as I thought it would be.

If I May Be So Sappy...

Warning: Sap alert.

I'm reading The Red Tent by Anita Diamant. It's okay. One of my very literarily inclined friends described it as a "book club book", and so it is. It's interesting and well-written, but probably not one I'll read again. I think it is fairly culturally accurate, but the author took great liberties with the biblical account (it is a fictional retelling of the story of Dinah, Jacob's daughter). Her liberties are very creative and intriguing, but she takes them too far at times.

Well, anyway, this wasn't supposed to be a book review. Last night I read a passage in the book that described the birth of Dinah's son. Giving birth and being a new mother were the most intense experiences of my life, and I think Diamant did a good job of describing some of the emotions that go along with those experiences.

"Why had no one told me that my body would become a battlefield, a sacrifice, a test? Why did I not know that birth is the pinnacle where women discover the courage to become mothers? But of course, there is no way to tell this or to hear it."

And then later, as Dinah describes her first moments with her son...

"Just as there is no warning for childbirth, there is no preparation for the sight of a first child....There should be a song for women to sing at this moment, or a prayer to recite. But perhaps there is none because there are no words strong enough to name that moment. Like every mother since the first mother, I was overcome and bereft, exalted and ravaged. I had crossed over from girlhood. I beheld myself as an infant in my mother's arms, and caught a glimpse of my own death. I wept without knowing whether I rejoiced or mourned. My mothers and their mothers were with me as I held my baby."

I told you it would be sappy.

One down,...

Boy, I've really been dragging my feet on this blog lately, haven't I? A week or two will go by between posts, and yet somehow I trick myself into thinking that I'm posting every couple of days. Must be summer.

I've spent the better part of today cleaning my daughter's room. It was long overdue. We "borrowed" a curtain rod from her room in December. In Elise's room, it holds a wall hanging made by my mother-in-law when Elise was born. In December we were given a Christmas wall hanging and wanted to display it in our living room. Thus the borrowing of the curtain rod. How long ago was December? Oh, that's right. Six months ago. Half a year. More than 25% of Elise's life.* And it's not that we needed the rod in the living room this whole time. We stored the living room wall hanging away with the other Christmas decorations just after the new year. I threw a couple of themed quilts over it for Valentine's Day and Easter, but other than that, it has been empty. So today I finally moved it back to Elise's room and returned the lovely little girl wall hanging to its rightful place.

I won't bore you with more details of how I cleaned her room - cleaning is cleaning, yes? - but I will say that I'm very happy with it. It's refreshing to have a really clean room. But I finished just in time to put Elise down for her nap, so now she is in there enjoying the cleanliness (okay, so I'm sure she doesn't notice the difference, but it makes me feel better to imagine that she appreciates my efforts), and I am in the living room, which is decidedly not clean. It's not filthy or anything. It's just not neat. Maybe I'll sneak into Elise's room and just sit there for a while.

*Edit: This is not to say that I have not cleaned Elise's room since December. That's just how long we kept her curtain rod in the living room.

Household Help

Have you ever heard the argument that the Proverbs 31 woman - that intimidating heroine of Christian women - was able to do all that she did because she had servants? It's usually said as a joke. "Well, sure, I could buy fields and clothe my family in luxurious garments, too, if I had servants." That sort of thing.

Over the last few years, I've also heard the case for the modern Proverbs 31 woman. The argument is that we do have servants. Washing machine, anyone? I've thought it was a cute comparison and I've smiled at it. But the other day I got to thinking...

I have a lot of "servants". A lot. My household roster is quite long.

First, the full-time help. I have three full-time servants. Dishwasher, Washing Machine, Dryer. These three work in my home every day. Now I have lived without the services of Dishwasher. It's do-able, but not all that fun. Someday I hope to acquire a clothesline, thus demoting Dryer to a part-time position.

Next, the part-timers. There are a lot of part-time servants. Vacuum Cleaner puts in the most hours, and may very well be promoted to full-time one of these days. Other part-time servants include Toaster Oven, Microwave Oven, Food Processor, Coffee Maker, Coffee Grinder, Mixer, and Sewing Machine. It is amazing how quickly these servants work. They are very skilled. Without their services, it would take me at least twice as long to complete the tasks that they accomplish so efficiently.

We also have some seasonal help. Furnace, the Fan Family, Lawn Mower, Weed Eater, and Hose. No getting up before dawn to stoke a fire. It's really great.

I do not have to refill the oil or clean my lamps before bed. I do not have to empty old water from basins and jugs, nor do I have to walk to the nearest stream or well to obtain fresh water. I do not have to make my own soap, ink, or fabric. I do not have to raise my own meat or grow my own produce. I do not have to sew my own clothes. I do not have to wait for days or weeks or months to share news with a long distance friend. I do not have to gather wood or coal to fuel my oven and furnace, and I do not have to clean up ashes. All of these things are essentially done for me.

So....why am I so busy?

Books

A week or so ago, I was having a hard time finding something to read. Silly, I know. There are countless numbers of books that I would like to read and haven't, so why should I have a hard time finding one to read? And yet, that is the problem I had. I tried a few different books on for size, and none of them fit. Fine books all, but they didn't suit my mood. I started reading A Year in Provence. It was a no go. Then I tried Jeeves and The Tie That Binds. A fun book, especially if you imagine Wooster as Hugh Grant. If ever the Jeeves books are turned into movies, Hugh Grant should definitely play Wooster. But, regardless of its cleverness, the book did not hold my interest. It just wasn't what I was looking for.

So now I have those two books to add to my growing collection of half-read books. I want to finish them all. I have half-read A Severed Wasp, The Brothers K, The Brothers Karamazov, Louisa, John Adams, and now A Year in Provence and Jeeves and The Tie That Binds. Pathetically flaky of me, wouldn't you say?

Now I am reading George Muller, a biography of that great man. The writing style is rather dry, but the story is inspiring enough to keep me reading. It doesn't hurt that the book is only 150 pages long. And now I have no shortage of books to read. Andy and I hit a thrift store sale on Monday, and I came home with three books that are shamelessly tempting me. A book that I had on hold at the library has also come in. But I will not be distracted! I will finish my current book. I will. I will. Truly. Here I go to finish the book. Okay.

Childproof vs. Proof of Children

This past week, we visited a couple of different friends in their respective homes. I was struck by the contrast between the two homes.

While making arrangements for the first visit, our hostess said, "Our house is child-proofed, so there's nothing within reach that Elise can break." Hm. Well, that was good to know.

At the second home, Elise walked in and immediately began running for a back bedroom, where she knew there were some good toys hiding. (She has visited this home many times.) Our friend immediately reassured us, "There's nothing back there that can hurt her."

See the difference? Now I'm not qualified to say whether these comments reflect our friends' subconscious attitudes towards children, but the contrast was stark enough to pique my curiosity. One home was childproof. The other home was child-friendly.

It was just one of those things that made me go, "Hmm...."

ABC and Dick & Jane

It's finally done! Benjamin's quilt, which I meant to have done in time for his shower, is finally done.


I have really enjoyed making this quilt. There were some frustrating moments throughout the process, but overall it was a lot of fun. I did this one from scratch, - well, I should say Andy and I did this one from scratch - starting with a rough sketch and adding details as we thought of them. Andy came up with many of the applique designs, and it was his idea to add the borders to the pinwheel squares. Originally I was going to reverse the red and polkadotted fabric within the squares - the red would have been the border pieces, and the polkadots would have been the little corner squares - but I made a happy mistake in cutting, and so they were reversed. I'm glad of that - I think it would have been too red otherwise.

It is an alphabet quilt without letters. There is an appliqued picture to represent each letter, starting with an apple and ending with a zipper. The appliqued squares are offset by simple 6" Dick and Jane squares. A few weeks ago my mother-in-law, who taught me to quilt, dropped off a gift that she had made for Chris. She had made him a set of pillowcases (a long-standing tradition; she has been making pillowcases for Andy and Chris since they first roomed together during freshman year of college). Come to find out, she made the pillowcases out of the very same Dick and Jane fabric that I used! We did not consult one another before choosing our fabrics - we just think alike. It was a very happy coincidence.

So there it is!

Do you suppose I should make a quilt for my nearly-two-year-old daughter now?

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are proud to present...

...Benjamin Michael Tindall! (or "Baby Min", as Elise calls him.)

"Name me one thing, one, that we've gained from technology." "Electricity!" "That's one."

This year I am keeping track of the books that I read. I've never done that before, and I was inspired by Bob. I have a list of read books in my sidebar. If you glance at it, you may notice that I read four or five books a month in January, February, and March. Certainly not an amazing feat by any means, but at least it means that I was reading a few chapters a day. But then...did you notice April and May? One book per month. Wow. Sad. So I started to analyze...

Now I could argue that it is easier to read more in the winter months. The evenings are longer. It's cold outside. There aren't as many social activities. Sure, that sounds okay. Maybe I'll stick with that excuse.

Or...I could be honest. I could admit that my husband and I stopped watching television during the Lenten season, which occurred primarily during February and March. I could tell you that my husband took our laptop computer with him to work for several weeks, and frequently had to take it to evening meetings as well, thus leaving me Internetless. And then the TV-watching and Internet-browsing resumed in early April. Hmm.

Kind of makes me question how much time I spend in front of a screen. (Ironic that I would say that on my blog, isn't it?)