Dishes!

My house is always full of boy noise.  From early in the morning till late at night there is the constant hum of trains and honking horns and 'vroom vroom'... not to mention belches and songs about bugs.  Now that Baby Boy is mobile, and learning that he also has a voice - the noises include his happy squeals and irate growls (depending on who has the toy he wants). 

Sometimes, I need just a few moments of quiet. 

Today I carved out some "Me" time in the form of dishwashing the old-fashioned way.  We usually rely on the dishwasher to do our dirty work (pun intended), but recently we found that our model was on a large recall.  Since the issue that initiated the recall is FIRE related (and we're not big fans of fire); we've determined that the dishwasher is off limits until we can schedule the repair.

So, this afternoon I filled the sinks with hot water: one side soapy, one side for rinsing.  I pulled on my blue rubber kitchen gloves.  I cranked Pandora (my favorite Jimmy Durante station fit my mood perfectly) and then I started.  I adore the feeling of accomplishment that comes with something so basic as cleaning, and there are few types of house cleaning which so quickly show results.

Dirty mug goes in the soapy water... comes out sparkly clean.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Bliss.

With each plate and fork and sippy cup, the boy noise started to fade into the background a little.  It was replaced by a calm that I rarely feel these days.  The moments were few, but they served as a re-charge of sorts.  It was exactly what I needed.

Before long, the dishes were done, my gloves were laid out to dry and I was wiping down counters when my husband walked in and said, "Wow. It's 1950 in here."  Right behind him came a blur of little boy activity and excitment. 

With my "me time" effectively over and normalcy now restored - I turned off Jimmy Durante and embraced the noisy fellows that make my life so very amazing (even if I do need a break now and then).

Going Home for Easter

I just love Easter. I love everything about it (even the big bunny and the colored eggs), but most of all, I love the Christian meaning of Easter… For me (and my family) Easter Sunday has always been synonymous with church services, thankful, grateful worship and cherished time spent with family.

Easter memories are some of my favorite from childhood, and this year I was able to give my boys a taste of what I remember most about those long ago Easter holidays.  The boys and I went to my parents for the holiday weekend (Hubby stayed home to work on some house stuff), and we had a wonderful time.  The weather was perfect and everyone was in good spirits and feeling great.  We got there fairly early on Saturday, and the fun started right away. 

Little Guy had a blast.  He went bird watching with Grandma, and flew a kite with Grandpa.  He had chocolate ice cream and asked Grandma and Grandpa both to read him lots of train books.  He also went for a lot of walks, exploring the farm.  He chased the stubborn farm cat (who had no interest in being his playmate, though Little Guy was not deterred).  He sat on Grandpa’s John Deere tractor, smelled some Spring flowers and was excited (dare I say thrilled) to discover the old outhouse that is tucked behind one of the sheds on Grandpa’s farm. 

Little Guy exploring

Baby Boy didn’t get left out.  He got lots of snuggles and kisses.  He liked rolling a big ball back and forth with Grandpa and took a long cozy nap in Grandma’s arms.  They both read him lots of books.  Baby Boy didn’t get chocolate ice cream, but he did have his first ever taste of a Graham cracker (he’s a big fan) and also had his first taste of lemon coffee cake (tiny crumbs, but boy did they make him happy).

Baby Boy at play

And if that all wasn’t enough (and it would have been) we also went to a lovely early morning church service at the same church my Dad went to until he was in his twenties, and where my family had went together until we moved away when I was four years old.  I hadn’t been able to go to that particular annual service in close to a decade, and was very happy to go with my parents and my boys this year.  We enjoyed a beautiful little service, followed by breakfast and fellowship from folks we hadn’t seen in some time.  Then we went to Sunday School at my parents’ regular church.  Afterwards, we packed up all of our stuff, and headed home.  The boys both slept for the entire two hour return trip.  They were exhausted, but very happy.

My Dad, Little Guy and Baby Boy on the steps of our hometown chuch.

It was a wonderful weekend full of memory making (not just for the boys, but for me too), and I have to admit it was not easy getting back into the groove of real life today. 

One HAPPY Mama (ME) with her sweet little fellas

Memories of the "Little House"

There’s something about this time of year….this space between Christmas and New Years in particular, that always makes me think of my childhood.  Not just generic thoughts of childhood, but in particular listening to my Dad read me the first few Little House on the Prairie books.  He read them to me after I received the series for Christmas (the yellow paperback versions – oh how I loved them!).  The weather was cold and my Mom was working the evening shift as a nurse.  Dad was recovering from a minor surgery and needed something relaxing to do that would also keep an ornery daughter corralled.  I was old enough to read myself at that point, but hearing him bring the characters to life was really quite perfect. 

Those books offer a glimpse into many of Laura’s relationships throughout her life – not the least of which was that between her and her Pa.  My own “Pa” has a really deep voice, and did the stories justice in his animated reading of them.  The wind howled on the outside of our small farm house, but inside it was cozy – the fire burned and the adventures of long-ago prairie life danced through my head.

Those memories are sweet and comforting.  They warm my heart even when the temperature beyond our walls is frosty.

I am the mother of two small boys, and I adore them both more than life itself.  The only time I half wish for a little girl is when I think of those books which meant so much to me.  The boys can read them of course, but I somehow doubt they’ll get the full-on joy from that particular series that I did as a young girl.

It’s okay.  I may not have a daughter to share the “Little House” books with, but there is still a little girl that lives deep within me - and she will always enjoy re-reading and reliving the adventures of that particular pioneer family. 

Later tonight (once the boys are sound asleep in their snug little beds) I’ll open my favorite of the series - On the Banks of Plum Creek.  As I begin to read it (for what will seem like the hundredth time), I’ll revisit the characters as if they are old friends – which of course they are.  As I turn the pages, and become once again engrossed in the story; I’ll remember the first time I fell in love with it all those years ago. 

Those childhood memories (as well as many others where my Mom was doing the reading) are a mish mash of happiness, featuring lovely time spent with loved ones as we read by the roaring wood stove.   Maybe I won’t share the Little House series with my young sons, but I’ll find some books that we can share and which they’ll be able to enjoy just as much.  For though the stories may wind up being different – it is the memory of precious time spent with a parent that means the most. 

That’s something I can pass on, and pass it on – I will.

Making a List, Checking it Twice...

I’m a list maker. It’s one of those things I can’t stop myself from doing. I keep lists at work, and other lists at home. I sometimes think I’d lose all bearing in life if a list wasn’t there to nudge me in the right direction.

This, for the record, is just one of my personality traits for which I probably need therapy.

The other day I lost one of my lists, and it was a doozy. The “To Do before Baby comes home” list was long and only partially checked off. When I realized that it was gone, I panicked a bit. What if I couldn’t recreate it? What if I forgot to do some all important task? My Mom (dear that she is) tried to help. “It will be fine, even if you don’t get everything done. The Baby will not care.” She was right, and somewhere deep in my psyche, I knew that. It was still difficult for me to just let go though, so I went about recreating that missing list.

Truth be told, we don’t have much left “to do” anyway. I’m a fairly organized person by nature and most of the big stuff has been marked off for a few weeks. Still, I felt better when I could hold another list in my hand and mark off all the items that we’d completed.

So, what’s left?
• We need to reorganize the family room (though it’s now known as the “toy room”, and rightly so) to make room for infant related stuff. That’s the room we spend most of our family time in, and we want to carve out a space for our newest addition to enjoy it also.
• We need to go to Wal Mart or Target for a little shopping trip. Nothing extravagant, but we want to pick up all of those little items that we’d like to have on hand, but have thus far neglected to purchase. Those first weeks go by so quickly, we’d prefer to spend as little time running errands as possible.
• We need to find birth announcements. Evidently I’m the only person left in the world who wants to buy the little cards and write the info inside. So far, none of the retailers I’ve visited have carried any at all. Going to Hallmark this weekend. Surely they still have some.
• We have to put batteries in, well…everything. (Note to self: Consider buying stock in Duracell)
• I need to finish Baby Boy’s quilt. Honestly, I’m not sure this one is going to get done in time, but I’ll try.

Other than having the baby and bringing him home, that’s pretty much it. The end is near, and we are so very excited to soon be welcoming home another sweet little guy to hold and snuggle and love. There is so much we want to share with both of our boys…so much we want them to experience and marvel at…so much that we hope they won’t miss…..

Maybe I should make a list?

Fire Safety OOPS

I haven’t begun to “nest” yet. If you were to peek into the nursery, you’d see evidence of just how much I should be nesting (boxes stacked everywhere & hardly anything where it needs to be in just a couple months).

One thing that has been bothering me lately however, has been home safety, so I decided to check our fire extinguishers. We have two. One was Dan’s before we were married. Though five years old, it still has a good charge. The other one we have was there when we bought the house, and hangs in the stairwell to our basement. I took a look at it… and well, you might say that I was surprised.

From a distance....

and zooming in for an eye-opening close-up!!

Yikes!! This fire extinguisher was last charged two years before I was born! Needless to say, a new fire extinguisher became something I very much wanted. My parents just happened to ask me later that same day what we might want for an anniversary gift. I told them I’d like to replace our fire extinguisher. They chuckled a bit (not exactly what they’d had in mind), but said they could certainly do that. And they did. So, now we have a spanking new one hanging where the old one was. I was even able to re-use the old bracket. That’s one feature that was better with the older model. It’s largely made of metal. The new one was 100% plastic, and just didn’t look very durable to me.

Brand NEW!!!

So, now I can breathe a little easier knowing that’s taken care of. The next item on my list? Well other than organizing the nursery of course (haha)…is to get a carbon monoxide detector. There’s such a wide variety of those, and I’m doing some research before making a final decision on brand/model. Any suggestions?

Catching Up

The wickedhappy house has been aflutter with activity this past week. I will blame said activity on my lack of posting – it’s as good an excuse as any, right?

So, here’s what’s been going on around here….

I passed that glucose tolerance test I’d mentioned in my last post! Hurrah for me. I will of course do whatever I need to do to keep my baby healthy…but I must admit I was really dreading the dietary restrictions that a fail would have put upon me.

Over the weekend my Mother-in-law came for a visit. It was really great to have her here, and she and Little Guy really had a chance to connect and enjoy each other’s company. They don’t usually get much one-on-one time, and it was wonderful to see how much fun they were having together. I really love to see him interacting with all of his Grandparents. It reminds me of the wonderful relationships I had with my own Grandparents growing up, and that makes me very happy!

On the Quilting front…I finished the quilt top for Little Guy’s cowboy themed twin size quilt (I promise you’ll see pictures soon). My goal is to get the whole thing done by the end of the month. Even if it means a few late nights, it will be worth it to have that marked off the old ‘to do’ list. I bought low-loft batting as I want it to be something he can have on the bed year round. The piecing is always the hardest of course, so it should be all down-hill from here. Little Guy caught a sneak peek before I was half done with the top, and he snuggled it and hugged it and said “MY BLANKET”. So… I think he’ll like it just fine!

Once that one is out of the way, I’ll have to get busy on New Baby’s quilt too. My deadline for that one is more flexible…but I’d like to have it done before he gets here this summer, obviously. I don’t remember having a lot of free time for sewing those first few months after a little one is born.

Little Guy managed to catch a cold…another one. I swear he’s had a runny/stuffy nose since September! Like many little ones, he struggles to breathe with a stuffy nose while laying flat in his bed. The solution (more often than not) is Hubby or I have to sleep sitting up on the sofa, holding our sweetie in an upright position. This helps him sleep…us, not so much. I think though, that after a few rough nights, we are seeing great improvement and he’s almost back to 100%. Yay!

The Hoosier

When Hubby and I first moved into our house (just a few months after getting married), we realized quickly that the kitchen just didn’t have enough space for our combined accumulation of kitchen stuff. He loves to cook. I love to bake. Over the years, we have acquired the types of kitchen gear you’d expect.

For the space we had to use, we both wanted something that wouldn’t break the bank, but managed to have some character. We found an old Hoosier Cabinet at a local antique store. It sorely needed some repair work (one of the drawer fronts was badly warped and the whole thing needed a serious cleaning and new paint job), but we were willing to take on the challenge.

My Dad helped us. He built a new drawer front to replace the warped one. While Hubby was busy with other new home projects, I spent several hours cleaning, sanding, and painting.

The end result was one we were both quite happy with. It has become our baking center, and is situated in the heart of our kitchen. Our spice collection lives behind the top double doors. The microwave, my most used cook books and a little basket for coupons and take-out menus go in the middle. The drawers below hold cookie cutters, rolling pins, measuring cups and funnels. The bottom storage area is full of mixing bowls, cake and pie pans. On the very top are more cook books which are favorites, but which don’t get used as often, and the cookie jar.

I walk by the Hoosier probably fifty times a day. It always makes me smile, and other than the fact that Little Guy can now reach the buttons on the microwave…I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s not a family heirloom, but it is a family treasure.

Spring Cleaning

We live in a lovely little house, but it is indeed little. Like many from the same era (it was build in 1957) though charming, it lacks storage. Each of the three bedrooms has one closet. None are terribly large. One is downright tiny. We do have one linen closet and one coat closet, as well as some much appreciated storage space in the basement.

This hasn’t been a big problem, up to now - because we’ve only needed two of the three bedrooms. But it won’t be long until Baby Boy will be moving into that third bedroom. Baby Boy's nursery (which we also used for Little Guy as an infant) is the room with the tiny closet.  It is also the room which is currently used for nothing but storage.

A co-worker asked if we’d be moving to a larger house now that our family is growing. The answer is no. Though our space seems small by modern standards, we certainly have more space than many do. There is plenty of room for two fun little boys to run, play, eat and sleep. And plenty of room for the parents of those boys to lead a comfortable and happy life as well.

Besides, anytime I start to feel even a little frustrated with how much space we do (or don’t) have, I am reminded of the typical frontier home (think “Little House on the Prairie”). Many families lived in one room cabins or tiny sod structures – and they often were raising several children in those cramped spaces!

So, it’s not the house that’s the problem. It’s our accumulation of unnecessary and meaningless“ things” that brings trouble.

The time has come for some spring cleaning!  We need to review those things we have and toss what we don’t need or use. We did something similar when I was pregnant with Little Guy, and we had a big garage sale to get rid of a lot of our stuff. I remember that almost being more effort than it was worth though. This year, I think maybe it’s just time to purge – taking everything right over to the Goodwill store as a donation. Someone can then get use of the clothes and dishes and etc. which we don’t need or use anymore, and we’ll have a little room to move again (well, for now anyway).

Our purging will have boundaries of course. My sewing and crafting supplies are off limits. Hubby’s collection of sports stuff and ball cards: ditto. Anything that holds sentimental value will stay put. You get the idea.

This weekend I plan to start with the clothes in my half of our bedroom closet (I know it's a small step, but I have to start somewhere, right?). I’ve been toying with the idea for a few weeks, but have now been inspired by my Blog-friend topchelseagirl to get really get started. 

Spring cleaning...here I come!

A Family Treasure

I am probably one of the luckiest people in the world. I have a wonderful husband, a sweet little boy and the most supportive and loving parents a gal could ask for. I adore them all (my brother, and Grandma, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and my husband's family too).

When I can’t be with my family, I love to be around things that remind me of them. My cubicle at the office is wallpapered with pictures of Little Guy. At home, we have various items from different branches of our family tree scattered about. Some of the most priceless to me are those things which remind me of loved ones who have passed away. Old black and white photos, a worn family Bible, patchwork quilts and a few pieces of furniture are favorites. Some of these things once belonged to loved ones, others were found at garage sales or antique stores, and purchased because seeing them warmed my heart and made me remember someone who isn’t around anymore.

I had a birthday earlier this month, and was surprised and humbled to receive (among other things) a family cuckoo clock from my parents. The clock originally belonged to my Dad’s Great Aunt. She received it as a gift sometime in the early 1960s. When she died, her daughter (always known to me as “Aunt Cleo” though technically a cousin and not an aunt) hung it in her apartment. My Dad has had the clock since Aunt Cleo passed away in the late nineties.

Aunt Cleo was a pip. For as long as I can remember, she made me laugh. She was funny and feisty and full of life. Though much older than me, she always treated me like a buddy. I don’t really know how she was to other people, but to me she was an interesting and entertaining lady. She’s been gone for many years now, but I still miss her. When Dad told me they were giving me the cuckoo clock (which has been displayed prominently in their home for years), I was immediately touched by the gesture, and was pleased to accept their gift.

I’m not sure what exactly prompted my parents to pass it on to me now. I know that it has been special to Dad in particular.  All these years he has carefully kept it running (resetting each week as its only an eight day clock). The clock probably has very little monetary value, if any. It’s around fifty years old, but not rare. The value lies in knowing that loving hands in our family have kept it going for half a century. I am honored to continue that tradition.

I have hung it in our little dining room nook. The walls in that area are covered with old family photos, and it seemed fitting that such a family treasure would hang amongst those cherished photos (some of which are of the very family members who minded the clock before me).


The gentle tick tick tick of the cuckoo clock reminds me of home, and of precious family and of how very blessed I am. 

Here we are in 1997 at her apartment (you can see the clock weights behind my head in this picture).

Fun With the Kids

Little Guy and I went to my parents’ small farm over the weekend for a visit. We had a wonderful time. Little Guy loves running around the big yard, “driving” Grandpa’s old John Deere 60 (while it is parked in the barn), and visiting the animals. Mom and Dad have a donkey, a pony, a goat and some barn cats. Technically, they now have three goats as the Mama very recently had two little kids, “Sugar & Blackie”. They are small, and absolutely full of energy (reminding me of another little ‘kid’ I know).

Dad set up a special little pin for the baby goats so that Little Guy could play with them without worrying about the bigger animals. This also gave him a clean pin to play in (which was a bonus for me on laundry day). They frolicked and jumped and took turns standing on two overturned feed bowls. Little Guy chased Sugar and Blackie around saying, “Stop so I can pet you!” It was simply adorable. By the end of the day, my sweetie had played to his heart’s content. He was a happy boy indeed.

Watching him reminded me of all the fun times I had as a child growing up on a farm. Over the years we had goats, sheep, cows, ponies, chickens and of course cats and dogs. Not all at the same time, of course – but fun anyway.

Little Guy’s babysitter has a dog, and Hubby’s Mom has a couple cats, so he does get some animal exposure from time to time. I’m glad that we have the farm to go to though. There’s nothing quite as fun as playing with baby farm animals on a day that hints at the coming Spring.

The Other One, Please

It was going to be a "baking day" and Little Guy wanted to help.  I put my apron on, and helped him to put his on as well.  I'd made us both aprons last year, and we've worn them on several occasions.  I think he looks pretty cute in his little yellow apron. 

But on this day, as soon as it was on, he said "Mommy, want the other one, please?"  The only other apron hanging on the peg is one my Mom made for me years ago.  It's a funny Garfield one, and is one I still wear on occasion.  I asked him, "Are you sure?"  He said, "Yes, like Mom's apron!"  I'm not sure if it was the red trim or the length that made him think the Garfield apron was like the one I was wearing, but either way...that's what he wanted to wear.

So I helped him put it on....

And a happier boy would be hard to find.  We had fun baking in our aprons, and even more fun eating goodies later.  A perfect "baking day" to be sure.

{this moment}

Inspired by SouleMama to share one moment...via a single photo - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember...

Saving for a "Rainy Day"

Remember the old fable of the grasshopper and the ant? The fun-loving grasshopper lived for today and never worried about what might be coming around the corner. The clever little ant, on the other hand, worked himself ragged, preparing for a “rainy day”.

When times got tough, and the cold of winter forced the grasshopper to see the error in his ways…he was forced to beg the ant for help. The moral of the story (of course) is to be prepared (the Boy Scouts of America have embraced this as their motto, though I doubt that decision had anything to do with this old tale).

It’s an old story, but it is one that resonates today.

These days, amidst a fluctuating economy and uncertainty in the workplace, we are all forced (even if only subconsciously) to pick a side. Do we turn a blind eye to the “what if’s” that the future may hold, roll the dice, hold our breath, and do whatever makes us happy with no regard to the consequences? Or do we hunker down, and figure out how we can trim our budgets, save some emergency cash, and maybe stock up that pantry?

What are you? A grasshopper or an ant?

I’d say that I fall somewhere in the middle, though heavily leaning toward the ant hill of it all. You won’t see me out buying the latest fashions or charging anything. We don’t use credit cards, and if I shop for clothing at all it tends to be thrift stores or garage sales. We do spend some money on things that aren’t necessary (NetFlix and the Internet are admittedly guilty pleasures in which we indulge). Largely though, we are careful with our money. We have goals which we hope to meet and exceed. Could we get there faster without those few indulgences we splurge on? Sure. But we’ve figured out what works best for us, and I think that every family has to make that decision for themselves.

Yes, we have room to improve, but I think we’re heading in the right direction. We are working to pay off debt and save money. I garden a bit, and enjoy canning. Along the way we’ve also been stocking up on store-bought groceries. Well, the stocking up part is really more me than Hubby. He doesn’t have a problem with it, but I can tell he sometimes wonders what in the world we need with a flat of canned peas, a case of mac & cheese or a jumbo box of biscuit mix when we have plenty of food in our cupboard?

I blame my folks. Growing up, we always had a modest stash of non-perishable foods on hand. Though both of my parents were born in 1950, they had heard stories of the Great Depression from their own families. My parents grew up in an environment where saving for a rainy day wasn’t even really an option. It’s just the way it was. And they, in turn, have passed that lifestyle down to my brother and I.

I don’t copy everything my parents do, but I’ve followed their pattern when it comes to stocking my pantry. I don’t go crazy with things we know we won’t eat, and I try to only buy extra when there is a good sale. I carefully watch expiration dates, and rotate my stash – using up the oldest stuff as I replace it with new. It’s nice to know that if an unexpected medical bill comes up, or if one of us were to lose our job, we would have a modest cushion which hopefully would get us through for a short period of time. My little ‘food collection’ has also come in handy on a day-to-day basis. If I’m baking a cake and realize I’m out of flour, for example, I don’t panic. I just go to my pantry and there (if I’ve played my cards right) will be the flour I need. I then jot down that I need more to replace what I’ve removed from the pantry. It’s cyclical, but fairly easy to maintain with a little effort.

I’m no pro. There are a lot of blogs and websites out there that you should check out if you really want some clever stocking-up advice. One of my favorites is Coffee, Tea, Books & Me. Brenda writes about a lot of topics, but she has a whole section of her blog devoted to keeping a pantry full, in preparation for that “rainy day”.

Whether you are a grasshopper or an ant is obviously a personal decision, and I don’t think there is a one-size-fits-all answer. A friend of mine stocks up throughout the year so that in December she can use her usual grocery budget for Christmas shopping. There are many ways it can be done, and the key is finding one that works for you. You should do only what you feel comfortable with and only what works within your budget.

I’d also like to point out that in the original fable, the ant (when asked for food by the starving grasshopper) gave him nothing. Instead, he rebuked the grasshopper for not planning ahead. That isn’t really the part of the story which I’d aspire to follow. After all, I think most of us are taught to be charitable to those in need. However, if you come to my house in your brand new car, carrying your designer purse and asking for food – I might hesitate just a moment before I give you that jumbo box of biscuit mix which I’ve stashed away. In the end, I’d probably give you what you came for – but you might have to leave the car with me.

Note: Image from Amazon. To buy the book, go here.

Hey Hey Hey



Fat Albert aired on CBS from 1972-1985. 
The image above came from CBS website

We watch a lot of cartoons, and not just because we have a toddler in residence. The truth is Hubby and I enjoyed watching them long before we had a Little Guy to share the experience with.

Last week, we had both had about as much Bob the Builder as we could handle, so Hubby searched NetFlix Instant Watch (best thing ever, by the way) for something different. We were both pleasantly surprised to see that old Fat Albert episodes were available, and we started watching season 1.

We were soon engrossed. Memories of our childhoods (late 70’s and early 80’s) came rushing back. Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids were like old friends we hadn’t seen in years. It was fun to see the old style animation and the dated fashions. It was a little surreal to see a very young Bill Cosby introducing each segment – but also very cool. He is, after all, one of those comedians who always stayed classy.

We actually didn’t even realize that Little Guy had been paying attention (as he’d been playing with his train in another part of the family room when we watched the first couple episodes), but Saturday morning he asked his Dad, “I watch more Hey Hey Hey show?”  So, I guess he liked it after all.

We were happy to oblige him, and watched a few more episodes as a family over the weekend.

One thing about the show which I’d forgotten over the years, was that each and every Fat Albert episode has a moral behind the story. “Be kind to people who are different than you”. “Don’t steal”. “Don’t Smoke”. “Your parents may have divorced, but they still love you”. “Respect the police”. “A new baby in the family is not the end of the world.”

You get the idea.

I think the reason I was surprised, is that these days, most children’s programming doesn’t contain any substantive message that I have noticed. Shows for kids are usually silly and entertaining and can even be educational, but they very rarely (if ever) offer moral guidance.

Don’t get me wrong. We’re not letting him learn the difference between right and wrong from the TV. We’re taking care of that ourselves. It’s nice, though when a show he enjoys also reinforces the beliefs we are trying to teach him.

So another generation of our family is getting to know the cool guys in the junk yard, and is maybe picking up some really good lessons along the way.

As Fat Albert would say, “Hey Hey Hey, that’s Okay!”

I'm Sentimental Like That

I keep things that have little or no monetary value, but which are priceless to me. For example, I still have notes passed to me in Junior High School. They are folded in that silly way young girls fold their notes and they include content such as:

“You love Brad, don’t you? I can tell!!!” and “Mr. Slate is the worst History teacher EVER!!” They are all signed “Friends Forever” or “Longer Letter Later”. There is a lot of unnecessary punctuation and some funny little drawings.

Seriously, it is ridiculous to keep these – I know that. I don’t remember Mr. Slate and I have no idea who Brad was….but these bits of folded up notepaper evoke in me memories of a time and place long gone. They remind me of friends who I thought I’d never ever grow apart from, but grow apart we did. These little notes make me smile.

I’m sentimental like that.

You’ll find evidence of my sentimentality in every room of our home.

I have an ancient vegetable strainer that belonged to my dear Grandmother who passed away long ago. It’s battered and dented and the little knob is gone. I still drain my veggie pan with it and every time I do, my mind wanders (however briefly) to memories of her. Could I buy a new strainer that is not dented and has all knobs intact? Yes, but I won’t.

I still snuggle up with the soft yellow blanket that covered me in my first twin bed as a very young child. That blanket sat in the corner with me when I was in trouble and went with me to a college dorm. Now it serves as a perfect TV-watching blanket, and even though it has patches and is worn almost out – I can’t bear to replace it.

So you see, I’m sentimental like that.

That sentimentality goes into overdrive at Christmas. Every ornament has a story. Every decoration has a history. Our home becomes a hodge-podge of color and festive decor and lights. Nothing matches per se. Our tree is not color-coordinated, and we don’t really have a theme. Everything you see is there because we love it, or because we love whoever gave it to us. It’s there because it stirs up holiday happiness in our hearts.

The ornaments on our tree are dated (either by the manufacturer or by me with a fine line sharpie). I love being able to pick up the red and green rocking horse and read on the bottom that it came from my Dad in 1995. I get a kick out of the God’s Eye ornament my little brother made for me when he was six (1989), or the first Santa ornament that Hubby got me when we first started dating (2003), or the sweet angel that came from my Mom in 2000. When we decorate the tree, it’s like a living scrapbook. Now that we have Little Guy, there are even more fun ornaments to arrange on the tree. The big white ball with his hand print from last year, and the small red hanging frame that has a picture of his tiny baby face from his first Christmas. I envision decorating together as a family as he gets older. As each ornament goes on the tree we can tell a story of a person, or a time or a place that we are fondly reminded of.

It will be sweet. It will be sentimental. And, as you know…that’s how I like it.

Big Boy Bed

I’ve told you before about our Little Guy and his issues with sleeping. For a while now, we’ve been thinking it might be time to give him a big boy bed (actually convert his crib to a toddler bed, but you get the idea). Our thought was that maybe he might choose to sleep in on occasion if the choice was truly his.

So last week Hubby converted the crib while I kept Little Guy busy elsewhere. When the transition was complete, we lead him into his little room. We didn’t say anything or point out what had changed. We watched closely to see if he would even notice. Within moments he did. He put his hand to his mouth, and said, “Oh NO! Mine bed BROKE!” We quickly assured him that it wasn’t broken, and that in fact it was now a “Big Boy Bed”, and we urged him to climb in.

The quilt on his bed is one I made (with the help of my Mom and Grandma) while I was pregnant with Little Guy.  The dinos and cowboy are all stuffed creatures that I've madefor him recently.  The contraption hanging on the side is his Fisher Price rain forest, which hs's had since he was an infant. 
He likes to be surrounded by things he loves (don't we all?)

 He loved it right away. That first day he climbed in and out about a hundred times. He would climb under the covers and pretend to sleep (eyes scrunched tight, and making snoring noises while trying not to giggle). We kept him very busy that day so that when nighttime came, he quickly drifted off to dreamland.
Since then it’s been touch and go. Bedtime can be tricky if he doesn’t think he’s ready to go to sleep. We have extra snuggle time some nights. Other times we sing extra songs. Some nights he goes right to bed no problem. Those nights are becoming more the norm, thankfully. And once asleep, he has been staying put throughout the night for the most part, and for that we are very, very grateful.

Last night as we were going through our bedtime routine, I could tell he really didn’t want to lay down. He was stalling. I gave him a kiss and assured him that if he needed anything at all I’d be right across the hallway.

He looked up at me with a mischievous expression, and said, “Mommy, I need chips!” Then we both laughed and he settled down into his covers to be tucked in for the night.

So far, the “Big Boy Bed” experiment has been a success. We’re very happy we made the switch, and our Little Guy is happy we made it too.

Spring Forward, Fall Back

This coming weekend, many of us will be adjusting our clocks for daylight savings time. This is the switch that most people don’t really mind. For the first few days you can tell yourself you got an “extra” hour of sleep.

But I’m worried. I’m worried that one alarm clock in particular, won’t get re-set. That’s the one that exists only in the mind of our two-year old. The one which wakes him up, without fail at 4:30am daily. I’ve told you before about his sleeping habits. He just doesn’t like to sleep.

So, Sunday morning may start a round of our household getting up an hour earlier than everyone else. Believe me, 4:30 is early enough. 3:30 might drive me a little crazy. 
We bought a nifty toddler alarm clock recently, in hopes that it would entice our tiny insomniac to sleep in a bit. It worked twice. Now we still set it every night (turning the light to red is a favorite bedtime activity now), but he’s up and about long before the silly thing turns green (and we set it for what we feel is a very conservative 5:15).

Oh well, the one big advantage to having an early bird in the house is that we have a lot of bonus time together that your average family with two working parents would’t have. Many mornings, we’ve eaten breakfast, dressed, painted pictures, built block towers, sung songs and played with flashcards – all before 6am. So, for that reason I don’t entirely mind getting up early.

3:30 is just too early though…way too early.

So, this week we are slowly moving his bedtime later and later. For the record, we’ve tried making bedtime later before, with no long term success. Hoping for a breakthrough this time. Our plan is that when the weekend gets here we’ll have him stay up a couple hours later than usual, in hopes of resetting that inner clock. It might work. It might not. It might just cause him to take a long nap on Sunday.

Cross your fingers for us… and if you see our light on at 3:15, send coffee.

Lots and lots of coffee.

A Keeper of Things



The above Clutter cartoon found via Bing! Images

Many, many years ago (when I was a silly teenager) I often teased my Dad about his massive collection of STUFF. In hindsight – who did I think I was - making fun of anyone? To put my teenage years in perspective…think George Michael posters, peg-rolled frosted jeans, enormous bangs & braces on my teeth. But I digress. I teased him because he saved everything - and I do mean everything! If you walked into his barn or his little workshop, you would be greeted with towering stacks of boxes and crates and chunks of wood. His tool bench always seemed orderly, but it was surrounded by a steadily evolving halo of chaos. For some reason this irked me.

“Why do you save all this junk” teenage Me would ask.
“It’s not junk, Young Lady.” He would patiently reply. “I have plans for all of it.”
“But how will you ever find anything when you need it?” I would whine.
His patient, but firm reply would be, “I know where everything is. I have plans for ALL of it.”

Fast-forward twenty years, and that conversation could just as easily be reversed if my Dad took a peek into my craft room. You see, I too have become one of those folks who keeps everything (especially of the craft and sewing supply variety).
He might, for example, hold up a box of mis-matched bits of colorful cloth and ask, “Why don’t you throw this junky old fabric away?”
“That fabric is vintage feed sack material. It’s not junk, and I will use it in a quilt.”
“What about these canvases, or these bags of felt, or this jar of buttons, or this dresser full of fabric?” He might go on and on, and I’d probably be defensive by this point.
“I have plans for ALL of it!” I’d cry.

And I do. I have more projects in my head (and corresponding supplies in my craft room) than I will probably ever have time for. And yet…I keep looking for more.

This past weekend we went to a big flea market. I have been on the lookout for green corduroy (I want to make a stuffed dinosaur for Little Guy for Christmas), and found a good quality twin size bedspread in green corduroy (circa 1970s) for just $1.00! Woo Hoo! And imagine my excitement when I found an orange one right next to it, also for $1.00. Yowza! Did I plan to buy orange corduroy? No. Do I have a plan for this new orange fabric? Well, I didn’t until I saw it hanging there on that lonely hanger. My mind began to race, and now I have several ideas for what I’ll use it for…someday. So, into the stacks it goes.

My keeping things is really the product of another trait that I also share with my Dad: We like to save money. Call us cheap or frugal – we are always interested in finding a bargain. It’s this need to pinch pennies, that sends us scurrying to garage sales and flea markets before ever looking for things we “need” in retail stores. It’s the feeling that we can’t pass up a great deal, even if we have piles of other great deals at home, just waiting to be addressed.

Regarding that halo of chaos that I once poked fun at my Dad for: I have tried to keep my own disaster area (craft room) in check. I get it now. I understand that there can be order in disorder (well, to some extent anyway – Hoarders scares me).  But I also know that a little chaos is okay.  You just have to know your limit.  (I know mine, by the way.  I just haven't reached it yet!!)

Now, when I poke my head into my Dad’s cluttered workshop the conversation will go something like this:

“Oooh, what’s this one for?” I ask as I pick up a strangely shaped item.
“It’s going to be a birdhouse, I think.”
“What about this old medicine chest?” I ask, pointing.
“I’m going to restore it.” He answers.
“Nice! How about these tiles?” I stroke the dust off the stack and he eyes me suspiciously. “You don’t really plan to use these for anything do you?” I ask, sending him the little girl puppy-dog eyes, “Because I think I could…”
“Don’t even think about it, Young Lady! I have plans for everything you see! Don’t you have some stuff of your own to go through?”

And I’ll laugh and nod… because I certainly do.

Thursday Thankfulness

Today I’m thankful for:


• A fully recovered (and newly energized) Little Guy – the new tubes went into his little ears yesterday. No problems & no complications. Hurrah!

• Loved ones: A husband who daily makes my life better and better. A loving and supportive extended family who stands by us through thick and thin. Sweet friendships I can depend on, despite issues of passing time and geographic distance.

• Cowboy boots, size 6 (found today at a consignment store) to replace the beloved size 5 pair which Little Guy has quite suddenly outgrown. A timely and budget friendly surprise – my favorite kind!

• Good books to read, recipes to try, and craft projects to finish

• Quality time with my fellas

Sometimes You Have to Dig...

We went to a tag sale this past weekend. If you haven’t been to a tag sale (sort of a cross between an estate sale & a garage sale), they are often a wonderful place to find treasures. They are also often a big waste of time. The key (I think) is to keep at it.

I don’t know how many times we’ve come away with nothing. We’ve been lucky on a few occasions. I found my 1911 treadle sewing machine at a tag sale (I don't use it, but I enjoy knowing its there) ha ha. I’ve found a box of vintage hankies, some lovely depression glass, and old cookbooks. But to find those things I’ve really had to go to a lot of sales that were just stinkers.

This weekend we were on the hunt for a "new" electric sewing machine (you may remember my old one recently died). As soon as we got to the sale location, I tracked down the machine which had been advertised. It was not what I was looking for, but we went on to look at what else was for sale. We found a few small things, but nothing to be overly excited about. We were headed toward the check-out table, when I spotted a battered cardboard box. On the side of the box was a sign that said “Quilts $5 each”. I made a bee-line for the box, and quickly pulled out the top two. They were in tatters – far beyond repair. The next one down was a queen size comforter/quilt. The top is pieced but instead of the three layers being quilted, they are tied together on the corners of each block. It had some wear around the edges (but hey, who doesn’t?) and felt soft and snuggly. One block needed repair, but otherwise it appeared to be in good shape. I flipped it over my shoulder and kept digging.


The colors in this photo don't do it justice.  The yellows are warm and buttery.

I  pushed aside another old quilt destined for the trash heap, to find (at the very bottom) the winner (in my opinion anyway). Patriotic in theme, it was assembled with Debbie Mumm fabrics (maybe one of her kits, though I honestly don’t know much about them – I only knew it was Debbie Mumm because the quilter had added a tag). The quilt (also queen size) is in perfect condition. The colors and edges are still crisp. There are no frayed areas, no rips or stains. It’s simply lovely! And for $5! I almost broke out in a happy dance right there. 

USA Themed Debbie Mumm Quilt - if you know something about this type of quilt, let me know.  I'd love to learn more.

So, we took our new treasures home. I laundered my “new” quilts, and carefully repaired the yellow one. It’s quickly become my favorite blanket to snuggle up with while reading a book or watching tv, and Little Guy loves to play peek-a-boo under it too. The other quilt is now displayed over the back of the sofa in our Living Room.

Obviously we’ve went to more than our fair share of sales that were complete duds. Coming upon one like this is what drives us to keep looking for the next one, and the next one after that.



Two lovely quilts for just $10 total: What a bargain!