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A Crafty Sunday Evening

This past Sunday, I had a surge of motivation that led me on a crafting frenzy. I sewed four spit-up rags for my brand-new baby nephew, whipped up one pair of super-adorable infant pants (that were supposed to be toddler pants, but oops), put together a sewn yo-yo garland, finished up a “happy birthday” banner for a work friend, ironed some wrinkly things that had been laying around, and put the finishing touches on a few other projects. I hooked up the embroidery hoop and am now dreaming of designs for a way-too-cute little onesie. Boats keep coming to mind, because his daddy’s in the Navy. Maybe an anchor. We shall see.

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This has got to be the best kind of therapy around. Nothing can beat me when I’m a-workin’. And there’s nothing like that feeling afterwards when you look in awe at all you did and wonder how you did it. I’m going to try and remember this feeling so that next time I’m feeling down, I can replay this little trick. I’m also going to remember a few little projects that I can slip in during those 10 minute increments I keep talking about. I just love spending my time productively.

My Peanut, meanwhile, was completely engrossed in pretend play behind me. When I was done at the sewing table, he climbed his little legs up there and pretended to sew, cut, fold and perfect his little sewing craft. He brought in his two “babies” and taught them too! Those four little spit-up rags we put together are sure wrapped in a lot of love.

It’s a Pleasure to be Your Momma

Our daily indoor trampoline date: I swore we wouldn’t keep it in the house

He calls out “momma!” at least 16 times per minute. Look at this. Try this. I’m thirsty. Follow me. Let’s be ghosts. Hide! I want one.

Yesterday it bothered me, to the point that I started to mimic him. Oh heavens, please forgive me. But today, I decided to be a little bit more contemplative and deliberate about embracing it. After all, I know that before I know it, there will come a time when he’ll be more inclined to talk to a garbage can than his own mother. That little tiny high-pitched voice will turn into a manly grumble. And I know I’ll miss these days and all that “momma”-ing.

So today, I’m going to embrace it. I’m going to wrap my arms around him and listen to everything he has to say, complete with eye contact and legitimate interest in his words. I’m not too jaded to hear what’s all been said before, because it hasn’t been said by this particular little human. Because there’s something truly thrilling about watching my boy learn all these new things for the first time himself.

There’s this magical glue that we mommas have that keeps our little ones at our sides and fuses our souls. There will be times when our children will be so far away, even if in the next room, but that momma bond is one tough cookie. It can survive the utmost tragedies and coldness (a la Gone With the Wind). And if anything is truly worth celebrating, it is this mother/child connection.

I know firsthand how much mommas mean, because I know what mine means to me. It’s enough to make a grown person cry. That sublime connection alone makes it such a pleasure to be this little man’s momma.

P.S. Speaking of little Peanuts: my husband told me today that our son knows the words to the Walker Texas Ranger theme song. Oh brother! Not sure I can embrace that one. Haha!

Christmas Tradition Ideas From Our Home

This year, we started what we hope to become some new Christmas traditions with our son. Of course, cutting down a real tree has always been one of them.

But here are a few more that we added to the repertoire this year:

Washing dishes by the light of Christmas lights strung over the window:



Singing Silent Night at the candlelight service is also one of my all-time favorite Christmas traditions. Following church, we thought it would be so much fun to throw mattresses on the floor and have one big family sleepover on Christmas Eve, with an over-the-top pancake breakfast in the morning. (Hint: try egg nog instead of milk in your favorite pancake recipe-yummo!). Aren’t we cute?

My all-time best Christmas memories revolve around huge family get-togethers at my grandparent’s house with a huge feast and gift-opening frenzy. But the most cherished moments center around an entire extended family listening intently to my grandpa as he spoke about the First Christmas and the real meaning behind the holiday.

What are your favorite traditions and memories?

Children’s Book Inspiration

Taking a break from all the Christmas hubbub, this is what’s inspiring me right now–vintage children’s book illustrations:

Love the geometry, colors, and beauty:
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I might save this one to frame for Easter. It’s just right, yes?
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You can’t tell from the picture, but the these ornate illustrations are printed with shiny metallic inks:Children's book page
Who wouldn’t want a rickety mansion of a treehouse like this?
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This page is currently being used as a page divider in my personal journal. In fact, it’s the first page I see, because I love looking at it:
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A treehouse city? Yes, please.
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Each of these books was carefully thrifted for its beautiful use of color, imaginative designs, charm and aptly-drawn childlike quality. Love love love!

Peanut Picnics #6

Our sixth picnic ended faster than it started. But hey, at least we got to eat before we left.

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Those boys no longer cooperate with the camera either. Ha! Nice milk mustache, man.

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This was probably one of the most random outings we’ve had yet. There was a squirrel checking us out.
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The boys insisted I take a picture of a floating bottle.
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But the water always brings an extra sense of wonder to those playful pups. And the weather was unseasonably warm for an October day in Wisconsin.
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See the watch on his arm? I guess this could be considered foreshadowing to what happened, but that is actually a “potty timer.” Thanks Pull-Ups!

The boys did get to play for a few minutes though.

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We got to play for about 5 minutes. Momma included. They put me on one of those spinny playground chairs. But my feet couldn’t even reach the ground. And those things are engineered to keep spinning to infinity. I had to cry out between fits of laughter for them to stop me.

That’s when I noticed the wet spot down the legs of the boy who insisted on wearing real underwear to the park. And that was the short end of that. Thank goodness I had an extra Pull-Up in the car.

Peanut Picnics #5

It took awhile to find this local park. I knew whereabouts it was, but couldn’t pinpoint it. We weaved through quite a few roads. Just as I was on my way to a different park, I took one last turn and got just as excited as the kids to have finally found it.

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There’s a playground on one side of the street and a huge open football field on the other side. My son was yelling “Go Pack Go,” even though the field was populated by the little leagues.

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The boys noticed some “balls” from one of the trees. They gathered as many as their little arms could carry, up to the elbows. They had the whole park going with ball games. One tiny boy put a ball on the bridge and started jumping. They played ski-ball on the slides. They played catch. Amazing what one little gift from a tree can do for the entertainment of tiny people.

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My nephew has told his mommy more than once that she’s not allowed to come along on our picnics. This is something he only does with his cousin and auntie, so there!

Moms Criticizing Other Moms

I don’t mean to interfere or anything” Really? You could’ve fooled me. “You know, there’s a strong undertow right next to this island.” A woman drove past, reversed, got out of her car, and crossed a foot bridge just to tell me this.

Um, no. I didn’t know that.” I reply, trying not to roll my eyes like an irresponsible teenager.

I wouldn’t let those kids climb those rocks like that. If they fall in, you’re never going to see them again.”

Well, of course, I’m not letting them go past a certain point” (And I’m sitting right here within arm’s reach of them. And there’s at least 20 feet of slowly-sloping rocks they’d have to climb down and forcefully throw themselves in to actually make it in the water. And you can see the water is completely still at the bottom of the ledge. And I want these kids to experience nature, to climb, to explore, to practice their agility, to grow stronger, etc. I refuse to shelter them from every single imagined danger there is. Believe me, my stomach already does cartwheels every time my son climbs a ladder at a simple playground.)

Yeah, but they could fall in and that current would pull them right under.”

I assure you, I’m not going to let anything happen to these boys.” I say with as much conviction as I’ve ever had in my life.

“Well, I hope so.” She says, as though there’s even a chance that this might not be so.

What is the deal with moms criticizing other moms as though we’re all hapless waifs trying everything we can do to purposefully hurt our children? Please, stop! My love for my child runs deeper than anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I would, without a second thought, put my body in front of a bullet for him. If fact, I would McGuyver whatever I could within reach and contort my body into impossible positions to stop anything from hurting my child. This I assure you with my entire heart, body and soul.

In spite of this, I could list numerous incidents where other moms (strangers) have come up to me to tell me that I was doing something wrong. I don’t know whether it’s because I’m a younger mom (no one has EVER dared to say anything to my husband or mom) or because mothers just feel a certain entitlement-of-the-wise to interfere, but several people have offered their “input” about my parenting skills. And it makes my blood boil every time. I probably shouldn’t take it so personally, but the entire issue of moms criticizing other moms seems to be trending. It’s not just me. It’s other moms I know and even moms I don’t know.

I mean, does our utmost devotion to our beautiful creations mean nothing? Does our obsessive tending, nurturing, directing, teaching, minding, worrying, and guiding count for nothing? Don’t our overly-obsessive thoughts about what’s best for our children count for anyting? If they sneeze once, we stay awake at night watching them, making sure they’re breathing. We shape our entire existences around our children. Our life goals are centered around their care and wellbeing.

Please, unless you have good reason to believe that someone is physically or emotionally abusing a child (which makes me sick to my stomach), or unless she explicitely requests your input, refrain from criticizing another woman about how she’s raising her child. Be assured that she is doing the best that she can and her mother-in-law is probably already on her case about it anyway. Maybe instead you could give her a pat on the back and a compliment. Those displays of motherly affection are, ironically, all-too-rare.

Peanut Picnics #4

It was raining when we went on our 4th picnic. But we had a nice shelter to keep us covered. Our picnic quilt ended up being my goofy nephew’s cover-up until we ran back to the car for his jacket.

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If there’s one thing I’ve learned with our weekly picnics it’s that keeping children at the table when they’ve just arrived at a new adventure is next to impossible. Especially when they see a playground out of the corners of their eyes their huge staring eyes and turned heads. I really wish I could drum up the same level of excitement about a different corner of town as they do. I’m learning. These tiny tots are teaching me.

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After eating, we explored our territory and found more unexpected trails! Right at the mouth, we saw a beaver or woodchuck or other similar wood-gnawing animal. As we got closer, we noticed a little animal trail that went from one side of the path to the other through two small openings. Around the corner, we saw a chewed up branch. I love finding these little clues to animals’ lives while we’re not watching.

We also came across a small slow-moving stream.

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The rain came down off and on during our walk, but we just stopped under the trees when it sprinkled. We climbed logs, scoped out the fallen trees and imagined magical lands beyond the scope of the trail.

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We also got a little goofy while we waited out the showers.

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When we got back, Tom and Huck (ha!) finally, finally got to play on the toys. And this, my friends, is how you teeter-totter when your legs are a bit too short to reach the ground yet.

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While the boys were playing, I was busy collecting pretty acorns. These beauties were scattered everywhere around the park. I have some little leaf-shaped plates that would make the perfect showcase for these. Decorating for fall makes me feel so giddy.

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Peanut Picnics #3

This week I chose a local school ground for our picnic. Behind the school is one of the best playgrounds in town. But you can’t see any of it from the road, so you’d never know. Behind the playground is a humongous open field for soccer, frolicking and other games. Then, behind that, is a chunk of woods with well-managed trails.

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However, the boys were not convinced. They saw playground toys and only wanted toys. With a little “we’ll go home if you’re not going to listen,” I got them to indulge me (mwahaha) and follow me to the opening. When they saw the mysterious pathways and beautiful meadow grasses and flowers, they got excited, like I knew they would. We came upon a shelter filled with picnic tables nestled in a corner of the woods. Perfect!

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We spread out our food and got to work on supper. This is one of the hardest parts of our picnics. With so much anticipation for what they’re going to see and where they’re going to play, it takes quite a lot of willpower and self-control to actually eat.

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See what I mean? But those goofy goons finally finished and we made our way through some of the trails. The boys just had to carry their own lunch boxes. Grandma made sure they each had their own brand new lunch box for these weekly trips. Grandma’s the best.

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The ambiance was complete with the smell from the wildfires happening hundreds of miles away in Minnesota. The autumn winds brought the campfire smell and a faint haze to our corner of Wisconsin that day.

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We were almost to the end of the trail when my son said, “there’s a deer.” He sometimes points out pretend deer when we’re in the woods just for fun, so I kept going. Then, I looked back and had to look again. Well, I’ll be… There stood a beautiful doe. She must be well-adapted to humans, because she stood in the same spot while we talked to her and took pictures.

Deer in the woods right next to us

Then, of course, we had to hit up the playground. I had one little Spider Monkey climbing a web-like rope contraption and another checking out each and every slide. I took a moment to get “up to the sky” on a swing. My stomach had a lot more butterflies in it than I ever remember having.

I was busy reflecting on these great experiences we are having every week. Being outdoors away from TV, steeping ourselves in nature, spending quality time with the kiddos, being active, exploring new territory, and spending very little moola…it feels like an adventure in happiness every week. And it’s just as simple as carving out one night a week, when my husband is away, to visit a different park. Magnificent! Give it a try!

Peanut Picnics #2

Last Tuesday we geared up for a picnic on a little island. The island is connected to the mainland by a little bridge. There’s still a beautiful lighthouse situated on said island.

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We laid out our “new” vintage quilt and cracked open the Yoo-hoo milk.

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After a little while, the boys spotted an airplane. My nephew got all excited and said, “They can see Jesus up there!” My favorite moment so far!

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Disclaimer: this shot was totally not staged! Ha! My explorers went to scout out the island and stood side-by-side with hands on hips surveying the new territory.

While we were eating, we were graced by the company of this beauty. Something you don’t see around the kitchen table or noshing in front of the tube.

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When they were done eating–a task that took quite awhile with all the beautiful distractions–we took an adventure exploring the rest of the island. On the opposite end is a little pool of still water. So, the boys picked up a few sticks and got to work “fishing.” The seaweed is a beautiful fish, isn’t it?

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We found holes…

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…and mountains.

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Then, we took a walk to another section of the mainland park. There’s an open field next to a wooded area that I was going to let the Peanuts run around. When I was little, our family would bring our dogs here to run. I’ve been coming to this part of the park since I was tiny.

I noticed a little opening at one end of the wooded area, so we walked toward it. There was a sign. I assumed it would say “no trespassing.” It did not. It said the trail was meant for hiking and cross-country skiing.

How did I not know about this trail all these 20-something years of frequenting the place!?!?!

We started walking and came upon a fork in the road. Taking the path on the right, we found a huge open field. And then we entered fricken’ Narnia! Or the Secret Garden! One of those magnificent secret places you always hoped you’d stumble upon as a kid but never found. Really, I was THAT excited about it. I have dreams about such adventures as this. There was a locked up little campground with about four cabins and a main building. We found a picnic table with a grill and a volleyball net. And even a set of well-kept swings!!!

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We left the other fork yet undiscovered for another time. We’ll definitely be back to see where that one leads.