A Long Post With Pictures Of My Living Room

Blair's Rules to Live By gave me something to think about. Rule #4 especially. I decided to take inventory of my living room, just out of curiosity, to see how many decorative items actually have some sort of meaning to Andy and me, other than just the fact that we like it. In other words, how much of our stuff has a story? Here is a brief description of our living room.


This is the top of our entertainment center. The entertainment center used to be in Andy's parents' family room. On top we have a "Daddy" picture that hung in Andy's dad's office for years. He gave it to Andy when Elise was born. Next to that is a tealight candleholder made from a tree that was in Andy's backyard during his childhood. When his parents added on to the house, the tree had to come down. That was a very sad day for Andy. A friend of the family kindly made this candleholder and one like it for Andy and his sister, and I believe he made a bowl for Andy's parents, all from the beloved tree. Behind the candleholder is a clock that we recieved as a wedding gift. Next to that are two figurines. The smaller is named Elisabeth. I have had her since I was a very young child. She used to dance and be musical, but one fateful day she was dropped, and the stand from whence she twirled and played her music was broken. I am grateful that she herself did not break. The other figurine was given to me by Andy on the day that Elise was born. It is, in case you can't tell from the picture, a mother holding a baby. (And, because I have a toddler, there is also a third figurine behind the entertainment center. We got her in Mexico on our honeymoon. She is beautiful, but a bit wobbly; thus, her new home behind the cabinet.)


Next we have the mantle. It changes frequently. Right now it holds a "God Bless Our Home" plaque that was given to us when we moved into our current house. Next to that is a bluebird tray that I bought from an online auction just because I liked it. No story there. Behind that is a wooden serving tray, a wedding gift made by the same wonderful woodworking friend who made the candleholder. Next to that is a beautiful plate - bronze, perhaps? - that was also a wedding gift. It was made by a friend who is a master blacksmith. Those two items - the tray and the plate - were among my very favorite wedding gifts. Next to the plate is a vase made from a glass block. Not really a story there, at least not one that gives the vase sentimental value. We purchased it at a craft fair, so at least its purchase supported a local artist. Please ignore the rather dead flowers in it. Next to the vase are some old books. I am not counting books in my inventory. They are a story unto themselves, yes? I do have a penchant for old books, though, and frequently use them in decorating. I used to buy old books just because I liked how they looked. Now I only buy old books that I would actually read. Next to the books, although you cannot see it in this picture, is a piece of petrified wood. It was in my parents' home for as long as I can remember. I believe they got it at the Petrified Forest National Park on our road trip to California when I was three. I'm actually not sure how I acquired it. I think it must have been living in my room when I went away to college, and thus got packed with my stuff. Huh. I wonder if they want it back? And last but not least, at the end of the mantle you can see a plant. I am so proud of this plant. I got it seven years ago and it is still alive. If you know me, you know how amazing that is. (I got a cactus right around the same time that I got this plant. I killed the cactus. Do you know how hard it is to kill a cactus? Hard.)



This little cupboard is technically a DVD/CD cabinet, and we do use part of it for that purpose, as you can tell. We got it at IKEA. No story. The contents are a bit more interesting. The teapot on the top left was a lovely gift from my friend Janene. The blue teapot in the middle was a wedding gift. The teapot on the right was a thrift store find, just something I liked. No sentimental value. On the bottom shelf there is a green honey jar given to us by a friend. It was a birthday gift from her husband, and she loved it, but they downsized and couldn't keep everything. In front of that is an old tea strainer and dish (I don't know what the dish is called...I guess it's just part of the strainer). It was also a gift from a friend. Behind that is a lone teacup with a dogwood flower on it. An antique store purchase. I think it was $1. I was drawn to the dogwood flower. No story. And next to that is a "tea for one" set, given to me by a very dear friend and one-time roommate. And next to that are DVDs. :)


This bookshelf was purchased at a department or discount store, I can't remember which. Sometimes you just have to purchase what you need, you know? It isn't a decorative item; it is a practical item. Anyhow...the only decorative thing on the bookshelf is a "Praying Hands" bookend. This belonged to Andy's grandparents, and it was given to Andy when they passed away.


The sofa was given to us by Andy's parents. The throw pillows were made by Andy's mother. The patchwork throw was made by me.

This cabinet is not actually ours. It is on loan to us by our downsizing friends. We really like it. You can't really see everything in it in this picture. There is more "just because" stuff in this shelf than anywhere else in the living room. The top (which you cannot see at all) is covered in family photos. The large open shelf houses an old desktop seismograph that Andy found at an antique store. We both like old things, as you will see. Next to the seismograph is a musical snow globe that Andy gave to me as a Christmas gift when we were engaged. I love it. It shows animals (lion, lamb, rabbit, mouse, cardinals, etc.) on the inside and it plays Amazing Grace. Also on that shelf is a vintage sewing machine. I think it would work, but the cord is frayed. It was an antique store find. Behind all of those things is a yardstick (Elise calls it "Daddy's stick") from Andy's grandfather's realty business.

In the lefthand cupboard is a concertina that belonged to Andy's grandfather, a very old magazine (I do not recall whether Andy purchased it or it belonged to his grandparents), and some Franciscan dishes given to us by friends. The center shelves house a unique vase that we purchased at a craft fair. I really like it. I almost said that it does not have a story or sentimental value, but that's not true. It does not commemorate a particularly special occasion like the wedding gifts or the honeymoon figurine, but it does remind me of a pleasant, quiet day spent with my husband. It's something that we picked out together, something we both like. That is its story. Below the vase is a silver tray given to us for our fifth anniversary by Andy's grandmother, from her own collection. The righthand cupboards house part of Andy's coin and camera collection, and my Louisa May Alcott books. There is also another mother/daughter figurine, given to me by Andy on Mother's Day.

And this...this is what I found this morning. Andy left it for me when he went to work. Those are checker pieces. Isn't he charming?

Good Rules

I must direct you to WiseCraft's Rules to Live By. I wholeheartedly agree with them. I was going to say that I especially agree with Rule #_, but then realized that I would basically be copying the entire list.

Adventures in parenting

Last week was a challenging week in the realm of parenthood. For whatever reason, Elise could not sleep. She did not take an afternoon nap for three days in a row - in a row! - and only slept for 30 minutes or so on the other days, and she slept fitfully at night, taking hours to fall asleep, waking up during the night, and getting up early in the morning. This meant that I got very little done last week and that Andy and I got less sleep than usual as well. And let me tell you, a sleep-deprived toddler is not a happy toddler. She also wasn't eating much last week, which had us concerned. It was a trying week.

This week has been like butter. "Smooth...like buttah". Yeah. She sleeps eleven or twelve hours at night. She's taking three hour naps in the afternoon (unusual for her). She's cleaning her plate at mealtime. She happy and energetic and engaging. We ran errands yesterday and she was a little saint. It is wonderful. And a good thing, too - last week I did not know how I was going to make it through the year.

Yesterday in particular was a good day. Elise topped it off with two adorable antics at bedtime. We were saying bedtime prayers. Usually we just let Elise pray with whatever words she chooses, and right now her prayers consist mostly of "thank you". Last night she had her eyes tightly shut and prayed, "Thank you [for] Daddy's truck. Thank you car. Thank you...church. Thank you...umm...my binkies. Thank you...umm...thank you..." At this point she peeked around her room, apparently trying to find something else to thank Jesus for. I guess she didn't find anything that particularly inspired her. She closed her eyes again and said, "The End!"

A moment later, as I was tucking her in, we found that Lambie was not in the crib. Lambie goes pretty much everywhere with Elise. She's not completely addicted to him - she can go to sleep without him - but she definitely prefers to have him there. So Andy and I did a quick house search for him. He was not there. We checked the car. Nope. We checked the obscure places where Lambie has been found in the past - hidden corners, the bathtub, that sort of thing. We could not find him. Then we remembered that Elise had taken Lambie outside with her earlier in the day. At that point we had to find him because we didn't want him to get all wet and dirty and potentially mildewed overnight. So off I went to search our backyard. I don't think I had ever before been in our backyard after dark. It was really, really dark. We have a motion-censored light, but for whatever reason it decided to stay on for all of three seconds at a time. I went into the darkness and Andy stayed next to the light, jumping around to get it to turn on. Then we came to our senses and got a flashlight. I wandered around the yard for a minute or two, looking around the toys, the shed, all of the places that I remembered Elise playing. Then I found him. On the patio, lounging in a lawn chair, looking as though he had been waiting for his umbrella drink for hours. Even in her excitement over playing outside (Elise loves to play outside), she had thoughtfully made sure that Lambie was comfortable in his own chair before she ran off to play.

Those two things made my night. Right now Elise is "reading" a grocery store ad, and she just told me that it was a great story. "Really?", I said. "Yes. It's really, really fun!" was her response. Gotta love those great, fun artichoke ads.

Fall is here.

So it seems. We woke up this morning to a cool, foggy, drizzly day. My feet are cold (and yes, Andy, I am wearing socks) and I have all the lights in our living area on. It's dismal without them. I would imagine that summer will make an encore performance, but only to give us closure so that we may turn our attentions fully towards autumn.

We enjoyed our Labor Day weekend, the unofficial time to mark the changing of the seasons. I began a new cross stitch project (much to Andy's annoyance; I still have not finished the one he bought for me 4 1/2 years ago). We canned pears. We made the most delicious triple-crust peach cobbler - the kind of dessert that keeps cardiologists in business. So good. We finished the long weekend with a birthday barbecue for a one year old friend. It was there that Elise got a taste of paradise - the bouncy house. She wents nuts over it. Have I mentioned that my daughter likes to jump? She does. "Like" is a mellow word for it. She loves it. Jumping is her preferred form of ambulation.

And now my thoughts are turning towards the holidays. What will Elise's Halloween costume be? Will we travel? What events do we want to attend and which can we skip? What should we make for Thanksgiving dinner? Which gifts will I make and which will we buy? How early should I send a package to my brother in Iraq? Should we introduce Santa Claus this year? How will we observe Advent? And so on and so forth. I am frequently an indecisive person, and I have recently learned that too many undecided decisions stress me out. This usually happens when the decisions to be made are over insignificant things. For example: if we have a variety of errands to run and would also like to go out for dinner, the decisions may involve what kind of food I am in the mood for, which restaurant would be most likely to accomodate a toddler well, what gift we should get for an upcoming baby shower, what store would be most likely to have that gift, what restaurants are close to that store, whether we should invite friends to go to dinner with us, what Elise should wear, etc. Little decisions, right? Insignificant decisions. But throw them all at me at once, and I have a very difficult time sorting through them. Each one feels heavier than it really is, and I find myself putting way too much thought into them. Since I realized this weakness, it has been easier to deal with it. Now I try to remember that the "problem" could be solved by simply making a decision and not worrying about it. My response used to be (and too frequently still is - sorry, honey, I really am working on it) to get irritated and defensive. My husband would ask for my opinion and I would say, irritably, "I don't care. Whatever. You decide." Very immature of me. So I'm working on it. And what better opportunity than the holidays. There will be a million decisions to make, and most of them will be relatively insignificant. I will try not to give myself (and my family) a headache by stressing over where to put the peppermint candle or which ribbon goes with which wrapping paper.

And now to find warmer socks...

Cottage Quilt

Well, it's finally done. My simple, easy, spur-of-the-moment little quilt is done. And it only took (insert sarcasm here) two and a half months.


After a failed attempt at free motion quilting, I decided to just tie it. I don't believe I had ever tied a quilt before. It was nice. And fast. Once that was done, I got to do the fun part. The binding. I like sewing the binding. I like making binding strips, I like machine stitching it to the front of the quilt, and I really like hand stitching it to the back of the quilt. Very pleasant work.


The only thing I had to buy for this quilt was the thread. I like that. I did not officially join the Use What You Have challenge, but I appreciate the idea behind it. Most of the fabrics used in this quilt came from fat quarters that I've had for years or from the ready-made stash that my mother-in-law gave me last spring. The batting was left over from a larger project, and the ties were made from floss in my embroidery basket.


I think I'll keep this one. It is receiving blanket size and would make a good baby gift, but all of my friends who are currently pregnant have opted to not find out the gender of their baby until he or she is born. Figures. This is most certainly not a gender-neutral quilt. That's okay, I'm happy to keep it. Right now it lives on the back of the rocking chair in Elise's room, and I think that's probably where it will stay for a while.

Made In China

Like many parents, I've been concerned about the increasing number of recalls of Chinese-made goods. I am also surprised to hear how many of our products are made in China - one report gave an estimate of 80% of all toys in America. Last night as I gave Elise her bath, I decided to do my own little household survey.

Sure enough...every single toy in the bathtub that has a manufacturer's label on it was made in China. Hmm. Interesting. I continued my survey this morning in the playroom. These are the toys that I found that were not made in China: (I'm big on lists this week)

• stuffed rabbit made in India
• soft alphabet book made in the Philippines
• recorder made in Japan
• matchbox car made in Malaysia
• sunglasses made in Taiwan
• dollhouse and furniture made in Mexico (the dolls that came with the set were made in China)
• hobby horse made in Indonesia
• rocking horse made in France
• Legos made in USA and Switzerland

That's it. Everything else - every other toy in the playroom that has a manufacturer's label on it - was made in China. This includes Happy Meal and dollar store toys as well as expensive toys chosen for their durability.

Now, to be fair, if we are really buying (and I think we are) so many of our goods from China, then we've got to look at the percentage of recalled items. I don't know what it is, but it's got to be tiny. It's not like 50% of all Chinese-made goods are being recalled. But I'm still uncomfortable. I don't want to wait until a toy company gets a complaint about lead poisoning before I find out that the toy my daughter has been playing with for three months is covered in lead paint.

What do you all think about this trend? I'm trying to keep up with the recall lists (I just found that the infant swing I purchased for our church nursery has been recalled) and I know I'll be more careful about the toys I purchase in the future. This makes me want to buy only American- or European-made products, which is virtually impossible. (I have new appreciation for Elise's rocking horse and Legos. I did not know that Legos were made in Switzerland. How cool is that?!)

Now, on to survey Elise's bedroom!

Another benefit of handmade

I really like nice paper. Stationery, notecards, that kind of thing. I like sending notes and cards to people, and I like having an assortment of blank cards and stationery on hand. I very rarely allow myself to browse the stationery section at stores, because I will almost certainly find something that I really, really want to buy. The truth is, I have enough cards to last for a long, long time.

This morning I opened my stationery box to put away the leftover invitations from Elise's birthday party. Then I realized that I will never use them. I started digging through the box to see what other "leftovers" I had. This is what I found:

• Six "topiary" bridal shower invitations
• Seven "umbrella" bridal shower invitations (the last bridal shower I threw was nearly two years ago)
• Six "Noah's Ark" baby shower invitations (my niece - the baby of honor at that shower - will be five next month)
• Six "clothesline" baby shower invitations
• Seven birth announcements (I guess we could use them when we have another kid!)
• Two "butterfly" party invitations (from Elise's 1st birthday party)
• Four "Curious George" party invitations (from Elise's 2nd birthday party)
• Five general invitations

What do you do with leftovers like those? I don't know. They look nice...I have each bundle tied together with ribbon. But I'll never use them. I suppose I could save them for the next time I throw a shower, and just send out assorted invitations, but to be honest, I'm not that thrifty. I like to pick out invitations that I think the person of honor will like.

I ran into this same dilemma with Christmas cards last year. I had leftover Christmas cards from every year that we've been married - maybe even some from before we were married - and they added up to a lot of cards. I couldn't bring myself to throw them out - they were perfectly good cards! So I swallowed my hesitancy to send a friend the same Christmas card that they received two years ago and I just sent out my 40 leftover cards. My apologies to those of you who have received duplicate cards from me.

This brings me to my point. (I know, you were wondering if I had one.) With handmade cards, this problem of leftovers isn't there. You can just make the exact number of cards that you need. You can personalize each card to the tastes of the recipient. I have only made a handful of cards, and they did take a fair amount of time, but they were fun to make. I'm not committing to anything, but I think I may try to make the next "batch" of cards that I send. And if anyone has any ideas of what to do with these 43 leftover invitations, please let me know!

Two days in a row!

Retha posted this meme and invited me to play along. Feel free to join in the fun!

ACCENT: American, I suppose. When I go back to southern Illinois, I pick up a bit of that accent pretty quickly.

I DO NOT DRINK: black coffee or beer

CHORE I HATE: cleaning the blinds. I'm not a big fan of cleaning the shower, either.

PETS: As an adult, I haven't had any pets (except a few fish for a while. They don't like it when you pet them.) As a child I always had dogs and cats, and we threw a pig, some geese, injured birds, a guinea pig, and a stray turtle or two into the mix from time to time.

ESSENTIAL ELECTRONICS: I really would miss the computer. We use it not only for emailing, but also for shopping, banking, finding addresses and telephone numbers, and paying bills. Andy and I both use it for work as well.

PERFUME: I very rarely wear perfume. It's not that I don't like it; I just don't think about wearing it.

GOLD or SILVER: I don't have a general preference.

INSOMNIA: Is terrible. I go through periods of insomnia usually two or three times a year. I hate it.

JOB TITLE: SAHM

MOST ADMIRED TRAIT: I do not know. I suppose only those who admire it would be able to answer this.

KIDS: One daughter, Elise, two years old. Hopefully more in the future.

RELIGION: Christianity.

SIBLINGS: Five sisters, four brothers. Six of them are married, and Andy has a married sister, so I suppose I have eight siblings-in-law.

TIME I WAKE UP: whenever Elise wakes up, anytime between 7:00 and 8:30.

UNUSUAL TALENT/SKILL: I can tell from another room when the TV has been left on even when the volume is muted. We can walk in from the garage, which is on a different story in our house than the TV, and I will say, "Oh, the TV's on", and Andy will look at me as though I'm crazy. Then we'll go upstairs and, sure enough, the TV will be on, but muted (usually in DVD mode, so it's on but there is no picture or sound). I guess I just hear the electronic hum...which is weird, because my hearing is slightly compromised and I frequently have trouble hearing mid-level sounds, much less something as subtle and soft as a muted TV.

VEGETABLE: I really like vegetables. Green beans are probably my favorite, unless you count corn as a vegetable.

WORST HABIT: Blogging. Kidding, kidding. Uh...procrastinating returning phone calls. My family and long distant friends complain about this all the time.

X-RAYS: Hmm...I had xrays taken when I broke my wrist. I think I was five. Other than that...I can't think of any. I've had some other imaging done, but not xrays.

MY FAVORITE MEAL: Fried chicken, corn on the cob, biscuits (butter, no gravy), green beans, tomato slices sprinkled w/salt, and iced tea. This meal is best when the corn, beans, and tomatoes are fresh from the garden.

Middle Name

I did not jump on the Encyclopedia of Me bandwagon, but thought I could handle this simpler version.

Players, you must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had. When you are tagged you need to write your own blog post containing your own middle name game facts. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.My middle name is...........

Elisabeth.

E: Elise. My two year old daughter. She is my delight. She can make me laugh and cry in the same minute. Being her mother is no less wonderful than I dreamt motherhood would be.

L: Listener. I'd rather listen than talk. This frequently makes me feel that I am a boring person. My friends will tell me about what's going on in their lives, and then will ask me what's going on in mine, and I feel tongue-tied. I usually feel that if I don't have something "big" to tell, then I have nothing of interest to say. I enjoy hearing the details of my friends' lives, but somehow feel that they would not be interested in the details of mine. I suppose all that really means is that I am not a sparkling conversationalist.

I: Introverted. I'm not as shy as I was growing up, but I still have to remind myself to introduce myself to people, strike up a conversation, etc.

S: Sensitive. Despite the fact that I am apparently the personification of Compassion Fatigue, the pain of others - family or stranger, friend or foe - really does affect me very deeply. I took a psychological personality inventory once, and it showed that I tend to take on the problems of others as if they were my own. Working in a hospital taught me to be a little more objective. In healthcare, you have to care, but you also have to maintain an emotional distance. Sometimes pain is inflicted to save a life; treatment can be severely retarding; parents cannot be protected from the truth of their child's condition. The ability to do one's job involves a tricky balance of sympathy and professionalism. I am very grateful for this practical lesson. It is invaluable as a parent.

This trait comes through in all situations, not just those in which I have personal contact with a pained person. You will never see me dancing in the streets over the execution or sentencing of a criminal. I believe in justice, I think that execution is sometimes the best course of action, and I am certainly glad when a dangerous person is removed from public contact. But I never feel exulted over a criminal's punishment. I usually feel very sad thinking about the hopelessness, anger, and depravity that they must feel, and the extreme pain that their loved ones must feel. This does not in any way take away from my sympathy for the victims and their families, nor does it impede my sense of justice. It just makes me sad.

A: Andy. My husband. He is my joy. He is constantly coming up with new ways to show me his love. He makes me laugh. He challenges me to learn. He is a wonderful father. I love him.

B: Baby. I want another one. Several more, actually...just not all at once.

E: Evergreen. It is the name of my church (and, incidentally, my state). Our church is a big part of our lives. Within our church family we worship, learn, serve, and fellowship. Church provides a wellspring that allows those actions to overflow into every other area of our lives.

T: Timid. I am a people pleaser by nature and by upbringing. Timidity is a great bane in my life, a weakness of which I am constantly aware and that I am constantly fighting.

H: Happy. I am happy. When Andy and I are asked what our dreams are, we look at each other and kind of smile. Our greatest dreams have already come true. We're living them. We have a strong, happy marriage and a beautiful, healthy daughter. We have the provisions we need. We have good friends, people whose company we enjoy and who challenge us. We have a home. We have goals and such for the future, of course, but they are akin to Cinderella wanting to upgrade her pumpkin carriage. Icing on the cake, so to speak.

Whew. I have a long middle name. I am not going to "tag" anyone. Just feel free to play along if you want.

Fall

Yesterday I was talking to some women at church. They were saying that they were disappointed that fall is almost here. It's true that we haven't experienced much that resembles summer this year. We had a few days of uncomfortably hot weather, but for the most part it has been a very mild, pleasant season. I can understand wanting more of a summer. I grew up in an area where summer lasted all three months that it is scheduled. I do miss it. But I also love Seattle summers. They make up for Seattle winters.

Anyway...

So these women were saying that they are not ready for fall, that they would like summer to last a little bit longer. I was surprised to realize that I had a different opinion. I'm ready for fall. Usually I am sad to see summer go. Fall, in my mind, marks the beginning of months and months of dreary weather. (Native western Washingtonians roll their eyes when outsiders talk about how much it rains here. They claim that it does not rain as much as outsiders think it does. My personal opinion, as an outsider who has lived here for ten years, is that the annual rainfall may not amount to as much as it does in other areas, but it does in fact rain as frequently as most outsiders think it does. Natives, you may disagree if you wish.) Don't get me wrong, I love fall. I love the crispness in the air (before the rain clouds set in), I love drinking hot drinks, I love the autumn colors, I love the anticipation of Christmas. But I still usually wish that summer would linger for a while longer. This year, to my own surprise, I don't wish for that. I know I'll miss the sun, but I'm ready for fall.

This has been a challenging summer for us, and I am tired. We have had sad farewells and harsh disappointments. It has been unsettling, and I hate feeling unsettled. I guess I am hoping that the onset of a new season will bring with it some peace and rest, hope, a restoration of routine and order. I'm looking forward to long evenings, to reading and sewing and baking, to watching fireplace embers fade, to just being with and enjoying my family. Fall promises to be a busy time for us - two weeknight commitments that broke for the summer will be restarting, and the weeks and months leading up to the holidays are always full - so I'm not entirely sure why I expect that it will be a season of rest for us...but I do.

Continuing Education

When I worked at the hospital, I attended Continuing Education classes every month. Granted, their purpose was mostly to "teach" us about the latest piece of extraneous paperwork that had to be completed in triplicate, or that last month's politically correct term for a given disease, socioeconomic status, or family arrangement was now offensive; nevertheless, it was part of my job to attend these classes, to learn as much as I could about my field, and to constantly look for ways to improve my job skills.

Every job has Continuing Education. Sometimes you have to be a little more proactive in finding the educational opportunities, but they're always there. I'm a homemaker now. What does Continuing Education for a homemaker look like? Well...it looks like many things. This week, for me, it looks a lot like a stack of books.


You can't go wrong with Martha, right? Just kidding. I do think that Martha (or rather, her staff) has a lot of really great homemaking ideas. Plus I love the photography.

This book...I have mixed feelings about this book. I do not appreciate the author's attitude towards homemaking. Her philosophy is that the faster we can get through meaningless housework, the faster we can get on with more important things, like careers. Rather demeaning. However, she does have good advice and ideas.

I have several books about homemaking, and I find it refreshing to thumb through them every now and again. I don't try to live by them, though. I think that would be overwhelming, impossible, and, quite frankly, wrong. It just seems that a home run solely on housekeeping technique would be devoid of...grace. Yes, that's the word I want. And housekeeping technique is really all that homemaking books can give you. So I read homemaking books to give me ideas on how to make my own all-purpose cleaner, how to restore towels to their original fluffiness, and how to arrange my broom closet. If those things ever get in the way of grace in my home, they will be thrown out the window. And if I am too blinded or stubborn to recognize my own stupidity, I trust that my family will tell me the truth...in love, of course.

Ouch.

Have you seen this quiz? I really don't put a lot of stock - okay, any stock - in these unscientific Internet quizzes, but I still take them because I think they're funny. This one is supposed to tell you what book you would be, if you were indeed a book. Look what I am! There is nothing good in this description. I've never even been to NYC! Wow.

For those of you who know me personally, if you read this and think, "Yeah, that's about right"...you can feel free to keep that opinion to yourselves. :)

You're Compassion Fatigue!
by Susan Moeller
You used to care, but now it's just getting too difficult. You cared about the plight of people in lands near and far, but now the media has bombarded you with images of suffering to the point that you just don't have the energy to go on. You've become cold and heartless, as though you'd lived in New York City for a year or so. But you stand as a serious example to all others that they should turn off their TV sets and start caring again.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

We live in the wrong city.

It's true. I've suspected this for quite a while, and today I realized it more fully. We live in City A. This morning I drove to City B, where Elise played with some friends for a while and I worked at our church. Then we came home to City A. In an hour, I will be driving back to City B for a dentist appointment, and then home to City A. Immediately after that, we will all drive back to City B for a barbecue. Finally, tonight, we'll come home to sleep in City A. Then tomorrow, some friends from City B will drive over here, to City A, to play with Elise for a few hours.

Wouldn't it be easier if we just lived in City B? I think so.

"And just what do YOU do all-day-I'm-sorry"

I was just thinking that, with fall just around the corner, I'm going to have to be more creative and efficient in order to get everything done. Both of my jobs are only a few hours each week, but they both get a little busier in the fall; I'm co-directing a Wednesday night kids' program at our church this year; Elise has just started potty training in earnest; I have a lot of Christmas projects I would like to make; and we'll have family staying with us over Thanksgiving. There are baby showers to plan and attend, holidays and birthdays to observe, reunions and going away parties, and so on and so forth. It's not as hectic as I made it sound...it's not like we have to do all of these things in one week. We're talking about the next four months here. But still, I'd like to plan ahead a bit and stay on top of the daily tasks so as to help everything run smoothly.

Thinking about this brought to mind two remarks that friends have made that have stuck with me. The first was made by Andy's parents' neighbor, a WWII veteran who is nearing ninety and has more energy than I do. Some time ago, his wife had surgery and had to stay off her feet for a while. The man had to take over his wife's usual responsibilities of cooking, cleaning, etc., and he threw in a great deal of good-natured grumbling while he was at it. One day he came inside after having hung a load of laundry on the clothesline to dry and complained to his wife, "I'm doin' the work of three women here!" Of course his wife laughed at him and immediately shared the story with her friends, because he was merely doing what she has done every day for the last five or six decades.

The other remark was made when a friend of mine was commenting that they were short-staffed at her company, and she was carrying the workload of two people. Someone else (not a parent) jokingly said, "Well, Em, you should just have a kid so you can stay home". Immediately another friend - also not a parent, but remarkably in touch with the work that comes with being one - piped up, "Yeah, and then you could do six people's jobs." And all the stay at home moms in the group cheered. Well, okay, we just chuckled, but we were cheering on the inside.

The truth is, being a parent is hard work, and it's really difficult (for me, at least) to describe that work to someone else, which is why, I think, some people wonder what in the world we stay at home parents do all day. And the descriptions that we do manage to get out sound pathetic. "I, uh, well, I change diapers and give baths, I clean up crushed Cheerios, I sing Old MacDonald, I clean and cook and do laundry, I rescue my child from the room that she has locked herself in, I try to hang up the phone before Elise's call to South Africa goes through..." But you know, that's all right. So I may not be able to make someone else understand what it is that fills my days and why I enjoy it so much. Doesn't matter. Because at the end of the day, my little girl will look up at me and say, "Mommy sing 'Teedle Teedle Yittle Star' and wub Elise's back?" And all will be right with the world.

Fashion Statement

Elise played fashion designer today. What do you think?


Isn't she beautiful? Sometimes when I look at her, I just want to cry because she is so beautiful. And I know that sounds sarcastic, given the picture of choice in this post, but I'm serious. I could never deserve to love and be loved by such a beautiful creature; I am astonished by God's grace.

And, because I want to support my daughter's artistic endeavors, I will even post a most hideous picture of myself. Elise picked out my headgear accessories for me.

No autographs, please.

Summer Reading

Elise and I visited the library last week. I didn't make it out of the children's section, and I brought these books home for my own reading. (Elise brought home her own.)

I'm reading Ballet Shoes because of the reference that Meg Ryan makes to it in You've Got Mail, one of my favorite movies. So far it's a cute story. The Brownie And The Princess is a charming book of short stories by Louisa May Alcott. I love LMA's children's books, and somehow this one had previously escaped me. These are lovely fables. Most of LMA's children's stories are firmly grounded in morality. She herself was a Transcendentalist, so I do not agree with the philosophies and theology behind her morals, but I still think the morals themselves are strong and wise. Lastly, I picked up Abbie In Stitches. It is a warm, funny story of an early 19th century girl who dislikes her stitch sampler lessons. She rebels by stitching a bold message into her first sampler.


These are the other books in progress. I have been reading An American Life for a long time. Well over a month. It's still interesting, just...slow. I read Reaching for the Invisible God in college and really enjoyed it. Philip Yancey is one of my favorite authors. I'm looking forward to reading this one again. And the one on top, Church: Why Bother? is a Yancey book that I have not read. Should be interesting.

Itchin' for some Stitchin'

I picked up this book at a thrift store the other day. It had price tags from three different used books stores on it. The reselling stops here! It's a great reference of all sorts of stitches.

I'm planning an embroidery project for a Christmas gift, and I'm both excited and nervous about it. I've never designed an embroidery pattern before...thus the nervous part. But I love embroidery, and it has been a long time since I've done any handstitching, so I'm looking forward to this project. I just need to get the design done. Look for pictures here in...uh...January.

More Birthday Details

The last ones, I promise.

Please excuse the poor photos.


I cut up a panel of Curious George "quiet book" pages and hung them from a clothesline across the entrance to the dining area.


And I hung a few more across the fireplace. Now I have 12 Curious George "pages", and I'm not sure what to do with them. I may just hang them from clothesline in the playroom. I really like Kirsten's bunting valance, so I may try something like that.



I had originally planned on having a very girly party, all pink and flowery and polkadotted, but I'm glad we went with Curious George. He really is a good little monkey.

Twister

Today has been a good day. Lately Elise has been demanding a lot of attention, and I have begun to really understand the truth behind the statement, "Show me the mother of a toddler, and I'll show you a tired woman". She has not been eating well, she has been testing her limits like nothing else, and she has been really, really clingy. Yesterday, for instance, I could not sit down without having her immediately climb (or try to climb) into my lap. I could barely stand without having her cling to my legs, crying to be picked up. Now I am not against holding my child. I love holding her. Just not every second of the day. It got worse after my husband came home from work. Elise was absolutely fine...so long as I wasn't in the room. She was playing and laughing and having a grand old time, and then I would walk into the room, and she would instantly start crying, wanting to be held, and crying, "Mommy! Mommy!" Which of course made me think that somehow I was perpetuating this weird crankiness.

So I got to thinking. Certainly this behavior is not acceptable. The trick, I think, is to determine how much of it is real misbehavior and how much of it is healthy toddler mischief. Why is she happy to play independently and converse politely when Andy is watching her, and not when I'm there? (That was just the one time, but still...) What's going on?

Today I was determined to watch for early signs of those obvious culprits, hunger and tiredness, as well as for disobedience after clear instruction. Being intentional about this makes all the difference. I know that seems really obvious, and it was a bit of a "duh" moment for me, but sometimes I need to be reminded of obvious things. This morning I had to remind myself that the most important part of being a stay at home mom is the mom part, not the home part. I am guilty of making to do lists that include only household and work responsibilities, leaving off "play with Elise", "go to the park", "teach Elise a new song", etc. So today I tried to pay closer attention to these things, and I did not get much housework done, and I'm okay with that. (I hope you are, too, dear.)

And now on to Twister. (There is a reason I titled this post thusly.) Elise and I sat down to lunch a while ago, and we closed our eyes to pray. I expected her to repeat after me as she usually does. I said, "Dear Jesus", and she repeated it. Then I said, "Thank you for our dinosaur chicken nuggets." There was a pause. I knew that she could say all of those words, so I wasn't sure why she wasn't repeating it. Then she piped up, "And thank you for the circles." The circles? Ah, yes. Twister. I got the Twister mat out today, thinking she would like to play on the circles. She did. And she thanked Jesus for them. Isn't that sweet? It's also her first original prayer.

It has been a good day.

Birthday

As previously mentioned, Elise's birthday was this past Friday. I do not know where the last two years went. How could it have been two years ago that the nurse placed my tiny little daughter in my arms? (Well, more on my arms, and then she stayed there to make sure I didn't drop her.) The memories I have of our days in the hospital and the first few months at home are so vivid...it's hard to believe that two years have elapsed.

So yes, Friday was Elise's birthday. We had her party on Saturday. My husband has done a great job of describing the party, so I will not reinvent the blogging wheel by rehashing details. You can read about it here. Suffice it to say we had a great time and we were very tired afterward.

Sunday was a quiet day. We went to church in the morning, and then enjoyed a quiet afternoon at home. Just as we were starting to talk about maybe getting out and enjoying the nice evening, some friends called and invited us to a local fair, just a few minutes away from our house. Perfect. We went and enjoyed fresh roasted corn on the cob (my all-time favorite food) and strawberry crepes while Elise and her little friend rocked out to a local band's performance. Good times.

Today it's back to the workaday world. Elise is yelling from her room, "Mommy! Elise wants to go upside-down!" The dishwasher and washing machine are working their magic, the bed is made, the floor swept. I'm about to pour myself a second cup of coffee and then go through the stack of cooking magazines that my husband left for me. We are finally going through them and picking out the recipes we want to keep, entering them into a computer database, and getting rid of the magazines. I have a rough life, let me tell ya. Sipping coffee and reading magazines whilst my daughter amuses herself by hanging upside down from her little chair. It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it.

The Great Oatmeal Fiasco of 2007

Today is Elise's birthday (more on that later). Oatmeal is one of Elise's favorite breakfast foods, and one of the few that she is pretty much guaranteed to eat on any given day. I very, very rarely give Elise oatmeal. She ate it every day when I spoon fed her, but now that she feeds herself, oatmeal is rarely on the menu. I know, I know. It's incredibly nutritious, one of the best breakfasts she could eat. But it's oatmeal, people. It is a thick, grainy glob of oat paste. And Elise is two.

So today is her birthday. Her party will be tomorrow, but we'd still like to make the actual day special for her. I decided to bite the bullet and give her oatmeal for breakfast. It was her idea, not mine. She actually walked up to me and asked for oatmeal for breakfast. So I made oatmeal.

What do I have, amnesia or something? Elise can handle silverware pretty well. There is usually a bit of a mess to clean up, but nothing catastrophic. But somehow oatmeal changes that. Somehow she reverts to her 16 month spoon holding abilities. Giving my child a bowl of oatmeal and her own spoon has pretty much the same result as putting a blender in the middle of the dining room table, filling it with oatmeal, and turning it on high...without the lid.

I tried very hard to remember that today is her birthday, and that in the long run my errands and chores are not the things that really matter, and that someday soon I'll wish I could solve her problems for her as easily as I solved her oatmeal mess this morning. (That's not to say it was easy to clean up. It wasn't. I just mean that when she is first snubbed by a friend or gets her heart broken by a boy, I'll wish I could take a big, warm washcloth and make it all better.) And I only partially succeeded in my "have a good attitude" attempt. There were still several deep sighs and "Oh, Elise!"'s. I should have taken a picture, especially given that it is her birthday, but....my attitude didn't make that much progress.

So let this be a warning to you, oh parents of toddlers. Oatmeal is nutritious and easy to make...but it has consequences.

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.