Invisible mama rant + a little quilt talk

Do you ever feel invisible? In the mama gig I'm so very, very happy that the boy gets to be the focus of attention. I don't enjoy attention, really, and he's adorable. I also don't, however, like the whole dismissal that happens when people (too many people lately) decide I'm just a mom and am therefor, evidently, without thoughts, feelings or any other non-robotic-like capabilities. Yes, I feel a bit mechanical when washing the booster seat tray for the eighth time in a given day but I also know about the world, I have a few decades worth of life I've navigated through, I have stories to tell (even non-kid ones) just like the next guy and I'm doing big stuff for the world. I'd argue that what I'm doing is critical. This time I devote to raising another little soul who cares about others and the environment, who reads (most adults don't now, you know) and who thinks things through and who finds joy and compassion in the world... This time and the energy and our days are the most important thing I can and should do right now.

So I'm really not invisible. I'm doing something that matters. And while I'm doing it I'm also more than the sum total of the parts of my days.

Other mamas are like this too.

Phew. I feel better now. I also make things which strikes some people as being cute but strikes me as being loads better than wasting four hours a day in front of the television. It's a great way to help our one-income family because gorgeous (I try) handmade gifts cost a lot of time and not as much money (usually). This little doll-size (20" x 23") quilt was so much fun to make. It's not quite as wonky in person as it looks in the photos; usually it's the other way around with me so I'm pleased! I've never really made a "non-traditional" quilt before, whatever that might mean, and I had so much fun cutting fabric and piecing it together. People either seem to love it or really not dig this little quilt. It's definitely inspired by quilts I've been seeing recently (I've been working on a little piece about Laughing Duck's quilts for the SMS blog and I always love all of the quilting done at the Pink Chalk Studio). I used to stitch in the ditch for the quilting but I tried something new this time (it weakens the seams to stitch in the ditch and I want a lot of dolls to cozy up under this quilt). The Alexander Henry fabric was a touch of something way outside my norm too and I like it.

I'm a bit feisty today, evidently. By the by I'm surrounded by loved ones who 100% believe all of the mama-related stuff I wrote, so there's that. It's just that life involves a lot of people and sometimes I wish they were smarter. And nicer.

What a difference a day makes

The rain cleared for a beautifully sunny day yesterday. We headed off to the beach and for the first time the boy was able to just run around on his own, finding clams and always heading for the water through the muck. I kept trying to hold his hand because it was so slippery and I could just see the potential wipe-outs and subsequent muddings of the face and clothes. The boy was happy, happy until I'd try to grab his hand; he wanted to explore and run on his own!

I was so nervous about T and the boy heading out on Saturday. They were going fairly far, and the roads were just a mess with the downpours (urban flooding, you know). I'm never very far away from the boy and I was so tense about it all. I kept telling T things he knows, and it should be said that he's an amazing father who always knows what to do for the boy (he doesn't need me to tell him anything). Anyhow, they had a grand time together and came home safe and sound.

Then last night while I was cooking dinner and T was about six inches away from the boy, spotting him as descended the Morris chair (the boy's all-time favorite activity now: climbing), the boy took a face plant dive onto the floor. I'm not used to the terror of all of that blood and of not knowing for ten minutes if your child is actually OK or not. I suppose you might never get used to the terror of that feeling, and the helplessness when your baby is hurting and there really isn't anything you can do about it. All weekend I'd been nervous about him venturing out and I tried far too much to keep him from falling at the beach, and then when we were home and he had T right next to him he fell so hard. His mouth is all so cut-up and the poor boy was exhausted and so hungry; after an hour or so of crying, and after frozen peas and yo-yo (yogurt-- his idea) we just got ready for bed and he fell right asleep.

Anyhow, things like this will happen with a climbing little boy and I can't always control his world and I can't always worry away the troubles. Today I'm going to give him more Tylenol and lots of love though and I suppose he'll be right back at it with the Morris chair. He climbs up, turns around, sits down and clasps his hands together with the most proud and happy look on his face.

Right above him, to the left on the mantle when he sits in the Morris chair, are Henry and Olivia. Henry and Olivia are Rose's siblings made of vintage angora and lamb's wool. Olivia's button eyes are from my Great Grandpa's military long underwear (shhh... perhaps we shouldn't mention this to her). Henry's a good listener and great company, and Olivia can be a bit of a pill (but she's a nice little bird, don't get me wrong). Henry's in the little shop right now. I love these birds.

Alright. I'm finishing a tutorial for turning a Martha Stewart dish towel into a nice little bag with interfacing and a lining... Tomorrow? I love these bags.

Aaahh, there's the boy stirring so early in the morning. I suppose that mouth is really going to hurt when he wakes. I love that boy.

Happy Friday

We did a little of this yesterday, and the peanut butter balls (with substitutions... it seems you can really mix these up!) are almost gone.

We did a lot of this yesterday too. Tomorrow I'm going to work on birds, mats and those poor doll quilts. They were started before the craze, and now would you just look?!

Thanks, everyone, for all of the fantastic food advice. I went crazy and bought the olive oil I'd been holding out on for six months (too expensive for the current budget, I thought) and a bit o' prosciutto to boot. Forgive the busy look of the site but it is a really good resource and the No-Bake Granola Bars are a family favorite here. I thought I should share right back!

When I first started writing here with two posts last November it was a bit about dinners too, but a lot about wishing I was more connected. This morning, when I checked the comments, I found all sorts of wonderful suggestions about one of the things that's really been bugging me. Then I quickly found all of the beautiful doll quilts I mentioned (how inspiring) and checked in with Kristin's Free Friday and read a little about her philosophy of raising her daughter and was inspired once again. On my first cup of coffee in my bathrobe I already felt connected to other mamas who work to create what I'm working to create each day. Somehow what I wanted so deeply last November is already there, bit by bit, here. I'm so thankful. Oh, and I'm going to buy that book.

Happy Friday. I wish you a wonderful weekend.

Peanut butter + jelly without the jelly

I had a dream (don't you just love it when people tell you all about your dreams?-- I know, it'll be short + painless, I promise) where something was happening that I should have been worrying about. In the dream I was worrying about why I wasn't worrying, and then when I first woke up I was worrying about having a dream about worrying about not worrying. Crazy.

Anyhow, I've been worrying about too much and I've been too hard on myself. This Mama/being at home with the babe stuff is tough stuff sometimes. I love it, even the more difficult moments, but there aren't any sort of standardized units of measurement for success. The boy is happy and healthy and brilliant (!) so that is the big success. The little things, at times, seem a bit out of control though and at the moment there are a lot of little things.

So, one thing that's been bugging me is our food situation. One of the boys around here can't have any dairy at all in anything, and the other (bigger) guy has had to try a wheat-, gluten- and dairy-free diet lately. It feels like we cycle through the same ten or so meals all the time, and though I'm in love with the new kitchen I think I hate to cook lately (and you can't, um, actually cook on the boy's cute stove). It's hard to find combos that will suit everyone's dietary needs and I always feel like I need to cut corners at the grocery store to save a little money.

This morning:
"Did you eat some breakfast?"
"Ummm... I had a little applesauce."
"No cereal?"
"Aah, no... There isn't actually any cereal left."

Yesterday morning as I'm sticking cold cuts onto plain tortillas as "wraps":
"Sorry for the pathetic lunch. I guess I could have made these into peanut butter and jelly tortilla wraps?"
"Do we have jelly?!"
"Um, no. They'd be peanut butter and jelly wraps without the jelly."
"Oh... No, that's fine."

Anyhow, time for an intervention. I found lots of cookbooks for inspiration at the library (Book Babies yesterday, of course, and can I just add in how adorable the boy is when he does the handsigns for "Twinkle, Twinkle?"). And because we can't just go healthy all the time I even got this book on pies too.

I've written down the ingredients list for this granola, these spring rolls (it's spring!), these peanut butter balls (let's help out those lunches a bit, eh?) and some of this crostini. I suppose I'll just adapt as I go so everyone can eat everything... Other suggestions? Like I said, it's bad around here. Today's big goal is a super-duper grocery shopping bonanza (sometimes I say stuff like that to make it sound like what it's most definitely not: exciting + fun!).

I have help with my ongoing craft tidy, which can be hilarious fun. I really do love that point of total disaster as you're redoing things, one step before the panic and two steps before it's all so much better. With the boy's hands in everything we hit the disaster point a bit earlier. He's so good now about taking things places. He'll bring all of the ribbons to the front door, for example, ribbon by ribbon. This is serious business.

If you listen you will hear...

...birds sing, and flowers grow.

Elizabeth Mitchell's beautiful song sings through my head countless times a day lately. Each time I look at the boy I can feel my love growing, just as she sings. Last night he was playing with T and he dumped all of the little blocks out of the box. The boy went over to the big stool, put the box upside down to give him a higher base and then started stacking from there. Then he ran to tell me all about it and dragged me over to look. Somehow it was all so simple and brilliant; if the goal is to make your stack tall, why not start a little higher? He helps me look at everything in a new way.

We celebrated the official start of spring (no snow but biting cold) with a blustery walk with my sister to coffee and rice cakes. Happy, happy spring. I seem to need it more this year than ever before, but maybe it's always that way and I just forget. Bring on the buds, sun, short-sleeves, blue sky... even the growing grass!

• The first half of the tutorial compilation is up and I think it looks pretty good! The first Flickr feature is up too and I'm itching to make one of those bags myself.

• I saw this link to an incredible online store with vintage everything for sewing over at Vasilisa the Fair. Check out all of the buttons!

• Just look at all of these softies. I think even if I was at my most crabby I would still smile to see these, and in it I found that tea cozy I "lost" a long time ago. I thought it looked like something perfect for my sister and her boyfriend, and then I lost the link. Ta da! Isn't it great?
  

Happy, happy spring.

Now we're cookin'

I first saw it here, then I dreamed about it and wrote about it here and got a little faucet advice here. It took some time to finish this little kitchen!

The sink is a thrifted bowl, the faucet is courtesy of a $10 gift card to Home Depot and though we spent more for the "good stuff" the wood wasn't really all that much. The curtain's from fabric I had on hand (we've got a little gingham theme going with the boy's apron). A little paint from our collection and we were off and cooking!

I'm indebted to Sam's grandpa over at All Buttoned Up for the inspiration and design, and to the boy's Boppa (a.k.a. my dad) for lending a ton of time, effort, tools and knowledge to the kitchen. Without my dad there wouldn't be a little kitchen! We tried to channel Norm in our efforts, and I tried to explain to my dad how woodworking is so much like sewing. It really is! Anyhow, Norm would be proud and I'm proud too.

I designed the dimensions (on a little piece of scrap paper) around these baskets. Storage, sweet, hidden storage!

When I was little my sister and I would spend weeks in the summer at my grandparents' farm. They had cows, land, and I had the wonderful freedom to roam and to do things like play in the hay loft that I wish for every child. It's my favorite place in the whole world. One summer I distinctly remember finding a plan for a child's cabin in one of my grandma's older books. I was super-excited and ready to build, and Grandma said I had to ask Grandpa. Grandpa very kindly persuaded me that it was a bit too much of a project for me to finish in the time I had to visit. In some way I feel like I finally finished a part of my little cabin yesterday. I have a tendency to excitedly try to bite off more than I can chew; I'm so thankful to have people in my life who persuade me gently to wait (20 or so years) and people who help me build (my Dad always helps me create whatever I need: warm fires in winter, wholesome meals for the boy with goods from his incredible garden, a little kitchen, a happy life...).

We're making things like strawberry and pear soup.

Mama drama

T + I decided that would be a great name for a blog, if it isn't already taken (take it if it isn't!). Anyhow, yesterday was full of mama drama and I'm not very proud of it.

First off I'm thrilled beyond belief that my intro and pattern reviews are posted on the Sew, Mama, Sew blog. I'm so excited to be working with Kristin, interviewing other crafty mamas and doing just a tad more writing. It's the most wonderful opportunity and I can't believe that it's an opportunity out there for me. Amazing. So, go buy a little fabric... (come back though).

We tidied like crazy this weekend and have clean cars to prove it. The boy has a brand-new, cozy + gigantic rug in his room and he can build towers with the big blocks and abandon now (without me cringing and saying weakly-- "The floor... Oh, dear..."). I accomplished a massive Craft Tidy. I'm learning how to hide a crafty mama's junk in a 700-800 square foot house. Packaging items for the little shop are in the tall basket in the top photo (in the living room). Fabric paint, sewing machine accouterments, snaps, pins and other assorted items are in a big basket in the bedroom. Big fabric scraps are in this huge basket which normally sits right near our bed, between the bookshelf and the dresser.

Are you sensing a theme? Baskets. Yep, baskets. There's another gigantic basket on the dryer housing finished projects for the shop and for friends + family, and a basket on my dresser with thread + ribbons.

After hours of organization I finally had all of the fabric beautifully folded and placed in color- and weight-separated sections of an old organizer from my classroom days. The organizer had been a mailbox for the kids, an essential tidier for copies and for almost two years now it's been taking up too much room in storage here in the house. It wasn't ideal, but I figured it would fit in my closet and would tidy up the fabric stash in a truly presentable and "calming" fashion. (Warning: If you're sensitive you might have to avert your eyes here... Pretty soon it's going to get ugly. Even the lighting's bad.) I organized in the living room and round about midnight (yes, on a Sunday night) I asked T to help me move the whole shebang into my closet. We were one foot away and I'd just said, "Well, at least we're putting something to good use... Something we already had..." when:

It exploded.
We sort-of stood there stunned for a few seconds. It was gorgeous. If you squint your eyes just a little can you still imagine how pretty it all was?

Okay. Let's move on from that whole disaster. The entire day felt pretty much like that. I had the best of intentions and they all just fell apart at the last moment. The drama wasn't about the fabric, it was more about needing a break (I think).

Oh, the boy's climbing now. Things get quiet and I get this feeling and I run over to where he is and he's about two feet higher than he should be. Phew. Onto calmer, craftier things tomorrow.

Our mini-vacation is over + doohickies

Seattle had the same amount of traffic we remembered (it's only been a few months since my last visit, after all), but the Eastside had more cranes. The arboretum was as beautiful as ever and it was fun to be there with the boy thinking about all of the walks and talks T + I had, dreaming of him. In another week the blossoms will be at their peak but they were quite pretty yesterday. I remember how quiet the boy was last year when we took the same trip. This year he was asking about everything and running around in the mud on his own. The boy was fascinated with the benches, I was fascinated with documenting it all and poor T had to direct us all through the trees.

We didn't find socks or shoes for T or a big rug for the boy. I did stock up on these napkins, of course, and a few of these rugs (below) which are so beautiful in person (not so much in the pic). When we arrived at Ikea in the late afternoon we thought it was closed. There were a handful of cars and things looked dark and empty. Ta da! I'll let you in on the Ikea shopping secret: You evidently just go around dinner time and everybody and everything is much, much happier. We bought a cute little pup tent for a song to create play space in our play space here at home.

I so wanted this lampshade, but have no where to put it and couldn't justify it. Sigh. It's beautiful.

Speaking of "for a song" I've been thinking a lot about what people charge for what they create and here's what I think: Everybody needs to collectively ask for more money for these gorgeous things they lovingly handcraft. Over at Etsy it's just too depressing lately to look at what people are charging for things that must take hours and hours of effort. When they charge so little it devalues every one's creations. Now, I know you charge what you think is best and some people live off what they make this way, and it's none of my business and... I'm just sad to go to the store and see a 'Doohicky' (or whatnot) without soul, made by a machine in some obscure corner of the world, sold for so very little because everyone seems conditioned to think this is what a "'Doohicky' like this" is worth to them. Then the people who are handcrafting beautiful doohickies on their own feel like others will only pay what they pay in stores. The store doohickies are perfect in that they have no mistakes, no funny stitches and no history. The yarn wasn't carried around town and knit in carpool lines. The fabric wasn't carried around a house by a two year old. There's no thought behind the item... no soul. Now I just bought some rugs without soul just last night because they were super-cheap, and we can't afford to buy all of our food at the coop and the farmer's market. I know we're not going to all run out and decide together that we need to charge more (and spend more), but I'm just saying the doohickies are worth more. Period.

Yesterday we dropped off my letter of resignation. I haven't taught for a year and a half now, and we wanted to make this work and it is working. The security of having the position in my back pocket is gone, and it wasn't as hard to let go as I thought it might be. I saw this young girl (early 20's) in the Ikea kids' section who ran over to the 99 cent blue tubs and yelled, "Yes! YES, yes, yes!!" and I knew instantly that she was a new teacher. I have about 50 of those tubs stored away (they're perfect for organizing books in an elementary classroom library), and I wasn't envious about the classroom she was taking those tubs to; I was just looking around for my boy.

Have a wonderful weekend.

Smiling exhaustion

Birds are singing, sun is shining... joy radiates. I have no idea what the weather's like outside right now but inside things are looking good. Just look at what my mother-in-law gave me when the boy and I stopped by for a visit yesterday.

Wait. Did you see it all? Look!

There's a whole stack of vintage fabric she and my father-in-law found in Portland last weekend, and then there's a gigantic stack of fabric cut out to make yo-yos. Imagine the possibilities! Needless to say I have a wonderful mother-in-law. And father-in-law. My brother- and sister-in-law aren't too shabby either.

I bruised my right hip from all of the dancing the boy and I have done through his illness. He insists on turning on jazz and dancing on the rug. He'll be sad about something and he runs over to the rug in the middle of the living room; he stamps his feet and points urgently at the ground while shaking his head like Ray saying, "Na na na na!" (his favorite nighttime music has a "na na" song where all of the "words" are "na na"). This isn't dancing. It means, "Mama! Pick me up and you dance." We're slowly venturing out though he's getting tired quickly and has a short fuse (note the "outrage" discussion in my last post). I'm a bit exhausted, but I'm still smiling. Hmmm... That's not right. I'm truly exhausted, but I'm still smiling. Yep. That's it.

Is it strange to be obsessively dreaming about vacations? We never go on "holiday" and it's never much of an issue but I'm dreaming constantly of heading to the beach.

I'm also daydreaming about spending time with my guy (the older one). We've been so busy lately and get caught up in the "Did you do the...? Should we pay the...? Could you...? The boy needs..." and I miss looking up from my coffee and The New Yorker in a cafe on a weekend morning, smiling at T across the table. I can look over at him on his laptop over there from my laptop here, but there's laundry blocking the view, there are dishes piled in the sink, the ironing board is to my right, bills are stacked behind the computer screen and I have a white face mask on. It's not the same.

Pineapple Express, mats + a little Mama talk

Evidently the Pineapple Express has moved into the Pacific Northwest, and we're getting rain in a big way. It's also very warm around here. We're (I'm) desperate for non-shopping opportunities to get out of the house, but the boy is still under the weather. The basement is almost done after a good day's work on Saturday, and today we finally found the perfect little faucet for the boy's kitchen (I think I have trouble actually completing projects but he's been playing away with it "as is" so it moved to the back burner, so to speak). Painting ceilings and making new splat mats for the little shop aren't the most creative, exciting ways to spend my time but it is important and I can think of worse things! I absolutely love the black flourish pattern with the red trim.

Aaahh, to be making beautiful quilts... Look at this crazy nine patch and this amazing blockswap charity quilt. Oh, and this sweet little thing (under "Thank you, Josie"). Just look at those baby gifts, would you?!-- It certainly puts the ones I'm currently working on to shame.

I'm full of ideas; the creativity is out of control. There's no time to do any of it, however, so it's all just stuck inside for the moment. The boy is letting something new out, however. As T says, the boy has discovered outrage. When something didn't go his way before and he really didn't like it, the boy would cry and get upset. Lately he doesn't just think it's sad, he thinks it's wrong. It's injustice. It's Mama's fault!

My boy is growing up.

Oh, and though sadly it's not Saturday or Sunday any longer, it might be some day as you're reading this. Go to KPLU and groove to some blues in the evening. You can get a super-lot done or it might put you in a really good mood. I just wish they still had their blues show on Friday nights so I could get a little done then rather than on Sunday nights when I should be snoozing!

The second purse

I like it. I bought the fabric long before I sewed the purse, however, and forgot which fabric I intended for the lining and which was for the exterior. I think it fits the person who will open it at Christmas time (or there's always a birthday too) and I know she'll appreciate the buttons, which belonged to my great grandma. This is the other one from the Amy Butler pattern, and I'd definitely go out and buy another one of her patterns. I think the Cabo halter would be fun (would I actually wear something I made?-- If I'm going to do a skirt... Hmmmm...) and T was joking that now I just had to adapt the bag pattern to make a laptop carrier. But look over here!-->

I think the boy must be getting some more molars in addition to this rotten cold he's had for a week. I know I'm still relatively new to the mama game and I know I'm over-cautious and a worrywart, but the boy is just miserable. He won't sleep much in the day with this thing, but continues to sleep really well at night (thank goodness) and he isn't pulling at his ears so I don't think it's an ear thing. He's just not acting like my boy. I've been holding off on taking him in to the doctor's because there's nothing really tangible other than bad cold symptoms and I know they'll just send us home to wait it out. I'm worried, tired and sad for my poor boy. I was creeping around while he napped and it's been so dark here the last few days. I realized I was doing everything without any lights on, like he would sense me if there was light in the house and wake up and sob. Being quiet is one thing but feeling almost-invisible because you don't have a desk lamp on?-- That's weird. That's when you know a sick week stuck inside is getting to you.

I kind-of want to keep this, but I bought the fabric with the express understanding (between me, myself + I) that it would be a gift. For someone else. Sigh.

As promised + uinnnk

Happy little free-form flowers just for the spring fun of it. I cropped an unfortunate word (not a bad word, mind you-- just poor execution) and a bit of a sorry bird. Now I need just the right dimension of frame to do the same!

I spent too much time looking for this little "tutorial" on how to fold your fabric. It's something I never thought I'd worry much about. No kidding-- I was doing dishes and thinking up Google search terms that would help me find it. Then Jojo over at Stardust Shoes fortuitously posted the link and now I just have to go do the folding. She also, in the same post, showed the cute baby balls she's been working on, talked about Timtex (oh, Timtex-- what am I going to do about you?), and wrote about her frustrations with Blogger (yes, yes, Blogger, although we've had a good thing going I'm deserting you soon for different waters). Odd when someone's thinking/doing something so very similar to you. I've mentioned our teeny, tiny house and probably don't mention that it's darling too and in a great little neighborhood. I love it but there's absolutely no room. The playpen and stroller have to live in the trunk of the car because our house is so tiny (an extra closet in the Honda!). Anyhow, I'm trying to tidy and reorganize and so the fabric is now going to be housed in my closet. Yep. I'm giving up clothes for fabric. Well, not really, but the clothes are kind-of arrayed around the fabric center. Folding the fabric in a good way will help with the campaign.

The other day the boy kept pointing to my hair saying, "Uinnnk! Uinnnk!" It took me a few minutes but I finally realized I had a pink rubber band holding my ponytail in place and, ta da!, the boy evidently now knows the word "pink!" When I was in junior high school we lived in Japan. My parents taught English in junior high and high schools, my sister went to public elementary school and I went to a public junior high school. I've since gained a little perspective and realize that junior high is just a hard age in general, but I had lots of fun growing pains as a curly-haired blond American kid in a very traditional Japanese school. I just didn't fit in, you know, and I didn't want to be lost in language all the time. I didn't want to wear a navy-blue, pleated "girly" uniform. I didn't want the Peter Pan, starched collar or the same shoes as everyone else. I wanted to use hairspray and have big bangs (80's influence, of course). I hated the uniform and all it embodied.

Back to "uinnnk." I don't think of myself as someone who loves attention. One day as I was putting on my navy-blue jacket in Japan with my navy-blue, pleated romper and my starchy, white shirt I also put on bright pink socks. I don't even know where they came from? Maybe they were my mom's... Anyhow, I don't think there was a lot of thinking that went into it. It was a basic, instinctual urge about defiance. Independence. Individuality. Color.

The aftermath was horrifying in the short-term and hilarious in retrospect. Swarms of students approached me before I even got to the school gate, urging me to reconsider. They were shocked. Girls giggled uncomfortably. There was a meeting with all of the heads of the various grades, with my homeroom teacher, the Japanese as a second language teacher and with my parents. I remember sounds of sobbing (I think it was me). I wanted to be different and I was.

All through my 20's I think I (ironically) happily adopted a bit of a uniform of my own with similar pieces that went well together, that I didn't have to think about, that presented the teacher part of me in a very upscale district well without being cost prohibitive. It was all about black. And beige. Off-white. Gray. Black again. More black. In my mama existence I wear jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt just about every day in the winter (give or take a sweater) and capris and a short-sleeved t-shirt in the summer (give or take a skirt). It's a uniform of sorts. Since the boy though I have so much color in my life. Wearing color makes me happy and being surrounded by color just feels better now. Pink is back, Baby.

I was thinking about all of this while I worked on Purse #2 last night (I'll finish -and iron it again- after 8 tonight, of course). It's got a lot of pink in it and I love it.

Springtime art

We had a moment of snow again, but our ornamental cherry is about to burst. This was such a fun little project to do with the boy. He dipped his fingers in the paint, we made up a "Dot, Dot, Dot" song and then I made some "branches" with a toothpick dipped in brown. Easy, peasy, springy. I've seen similar cherry blossom projects where older children use hand prints or footprints along a long branch, or there's always the little squares of pink and white tissue paper wrapped around your finger and dipped into a bit of glue. I like the delicacy of the finger dots. Spring is in the air!

The sewing machine drama continues. At one point yesterday I had four machines. Grandma's machine is now in the capable hands of the local sewing machine repair fellow, one machine is destined for the Goodwill, the other has been returned to the store (this was the replacement for the one I initially bought that was used... It didn't work...) and one is on the desk, peeking over at me shyly, wondering if I have what it takes to try it out. There are pinned projects draped everywhere, and I'm hesitant.

Does anyone speak French? Well, French and English too? Does Marion over at Tea Time have these new little critters in a store? Are they based on books she's written? I'm in awe, and a little confused. I use an online dictionary translator to try to understand her beautiful site (and to post what I'm sure are highly confusing and entertaining comments) and I think this is what's going on!

On the mama front it was a good day for blog browsing. For some reason a theme emerged on many of my favorite sites about the humbling nature of being a mama and the challenges. The boy seems to be in a new phase lately; he's amazing, brilliant, so observant and engaging about everything around us... and he's exhausting. T works long, long hours and the boy thinks one nap a day should be just about right now. There hasn't been any recovery time built in to my weeks lately, and it's wearing on me (not enough creativity as well). I feel tired, and a bit empty. You know it's bad when the cranky lady at the cutting table almost makes you cry. It's so easy to get down on myself because being a mama is like what I loved about teaching. You never are what you will be, you always have more to learn, nothing ever stays the same for too long and your reality is inextricably linked with the joys and challenges and successes of little people. Today as I read about other mamas feeling those same joys, challenges and successes I felt a bit better. It was really important.

Oh, and these made me so happy. Did you check back in with Sew Mama Sew list of free tutorials and patterns? I, of course, didn't read the directions and listed a million things I've found that I love, but there are so many more to add to the sidebar (and project pile) now.

Playgroup prep

For the little ones...

...and the mamas.



There were lots of toys to play with too, though eating is big!

Wishing you a happy day full of love

I, too, have been a little ambivalent about Valentine's Day in my life. Sometimes it just feels like so much pressure and I always think about how showing your love and care should be a daily event, not just a yearly thing. Really though, we could all probably use some prodding in this department every once in a while. How often do I really, really tell and show T how much I care about him? Does he know every day how proud I am of him?-- How amazed I am that he goes off to a wonderful and meaningful job every day, using his art to support education, and using his work to support our family and to let me be home with the boy? Does he really know every day that watching him be Daddy to our little guy fills me up with more happiness than I thought possible?

When I was teaching the "hassle" of Valentine's Day in the midst of the 100th day of school "festivities," Groundhog's Day, Presidents' Day, mid-winter break, etc., sometimes made me dread it (well, especially the party-- the parties always get first graders so riled up!!). Then the joy on the kids' faces when they exchanged their little cards was always so special. Creating the perfect little surprise for someone, being on the receiving end of some good "mail," and just focusing for a day on happy things, showing others you care and you love them... What could be better than that?

My grandpa (Pops) always, always, without fail gives us gals a box of Sweethearts or some such goody. Last night I called my mom and Dad had just brought home a dozen roses; I love that and it's so like him to do something wonderful and surprising with a twist thrown in (who'd expect something like that on February 13th?). Last night the boy head-butted me in his enthusiasm to give me a "kiss" on his way to bed, and then, because of another eye tooth, the first hour and a half of "bed" was the two of us cuddling in the double-bed, snoozing away in the early evening. T worked into the early morning on the laptop, slept for a few hours at most, and then was heading out for work before the sun started to rise. I am surrounded by the most hard-working, amazing, thoughtful, and funny fellows and I am so thankful for that today and every day.

In our quest to share the love we have a Valentine for the librarian ready to go in our book bag. We also have one for the firemen who came to our house the other day for the boy, and I have to pick up some candy to go along with it. I thought I'd bake some cookies to bring but then I realized that, with the times being what they are, they might not eat them. Chocolate's always good.

In the "people I'm proud to know" category, my sister's getting started on that little blog of hers and I love taking a look in the morning. Cob houses? Who knew? It looks a little "cavey" to me but, then again, it's a house of their own. I want that. I'm not quite sure how it could have been assessed at $200,000+ but, then again, that's one of the reasons we had to keep moving south; we'd never be able to afford a house in the greater-Seattle area given our life priorities. Never. The cob house made me think back to the Brown Dress Project I discovered through Happy Thing's other website. Perhaps I could view my pathetic wardrobe, the wardrobe wherein almost nothing in it reflects who I see myself being or feeling at this point in my life, as an exercise in resourcefulness. Ha.

Oh, and back in that previous "people" category a friend just popped her first handcrafted-to-sell-on-Etsy creation up onto the site. She's so creative and I love that fabric she chose. Wow!

Are you into pincushions? I've never really thought about it much but look at these little beauties. And if you think you are (into pincushions) or might be, go to the Pincushion Challenge to look at some more. Very fun.

I love finding new blogs to enjoy like this, this, and this.

Wishing you a happy day full of love...

Zen Woman with a million and two ideas

I'm not an 80's music freak by any means, but I just had to add this in after that last post. Now the Police are back! Crazy! These guys know how to get a little cash flow.

Aaahh, cash flow. We could use a little more of that around here. The boy and I just started a parenting class this morning; we had visited as a guest a couple of weeks ago and just loved it. I had resisted like crazy, thinking I've had enough child development coursework to last me for awhile. After hearing the instructor though, and seeing how the boy love, love, loved the experience I was sold. I think it'll make me a better parent to hear what she has to say and to mull it over through the week, to "practice," and to ask my questions in a good space... I didn't want to like it because I didn't want to figure out how to find the money to make it happen! To pay for the rest of this quarter and next I'm painting a basement. Not my basement, mind you, but a basement all the same. Time to hang out alone with a paintbrush and some tunes (or, of course, This American Life) doesn't sound too bad anyway.

Again, back to the cash. I'm trying to bring a wee bit in with the splat mats, etc., in the little shop but am frustrated with the lack of time to create and always over-anxious for things to sell! The pics are some of my lovelies from this weekend. T and I stayed up 'til 3 a.m. working on our respective projects Saturday night; it was very old-school, back in the dorms style with a little too much caffeine flowing for us "old" 30-somethings. I'm itching to finish my little project for the boy and was so excited to see this kitchen today. Isn't it beautiful? I'm so happy to see people repurposing and creating, and buying a little less in the 'plastic monstrosities for kiddos' department.

Oh, and is the project we worked together on this weekend. You can't tell in this picture (it might as well be 6 p.m. for all the light we've gotten in here today) but the paper is a beautiful shade of light green. It's perfect for a garden party, which is what this will be, and the flower is just right. It should be; as I mentioned it was hard to find! If you're ever looking for just the right flower clip art for a 60th wedding anniversary and 80th birthday bash, I'm your "man." I've got the book right here. I wish we could have screen printed like this amazing stationary (have I already linked to them?-- Sigh. They're just gorgeous...).

T keeps laughing at me because every other day or so I say something like, "We should get a letter press. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a letter press?" or "We should get a set up to do screen printing. Wouldn't it be wonderful to do screen printing?" I will say though that the other day we were heading off somewhere and I can't remember what I said but T replied with some funny comment about being married to a "Zen Woman." We paused, and then cracked up. There's no way Type-A-Me or Married-to-Ms.-Type-A T would have ever thought those words would be uttered in our relationship. This Mama business has chilled me out quite a bit, I'd say. I have better perspective when I sit down and really think about things. I'm still the crazy idea gal though and being a bit more relaxed doesn't stop me from wanting one of these.

Wait, Valentine's Day is tomorrow?! I've got work to do!


Aaahhh... I just read Alicia's post and realized T's been in the Crazy-Beth Olympics for about a decade now. I'd say he's winning all golds too.

Life is just better

Okay, they turned out a little more 80's than I originally pictured (and the zig-zag inspiration came not only from all of the little shop's splat mats but from this invite too, I'm sure!). T says that's fine though because the 80's are back, as evidenced by Wham reuniting and Prince's (he's not former any more, right?) Superbowl half-time show! The boy did the painting and coloring, and of course it's his hand. I did a similar one last year and I thought it'd be fun to include his hand every year so we can see how much he's grown. My, how he's grown!

C's art is so beautiful, and we're just barely into the scribble a bit and smash a bit of paint onto the paper phase. He looks so proud of himself whenever we do a little project and then hang it up on the art line by our front door. When his Nana and Grandpa came over one time days after he'd done some art it was the first thing he wanted to show them (at 13 months old!). Look at this wonderful idea from another Mama. Now that's one for "When he's older!"

T & I spent an inordinate amount of time this weekend making Save the Date cards, but I'm sure we'll all agree that it was worth it once the finished product is trimmed today! The poor boy had to make it through three bookstores in our quest for the right flower or tree clip art. He turns into this crazed little blur in bookstores, madly wanting to look at everything (flinging aside what doesn't interest him). It's exactly how I feel inside when I have a half hour in a great bookstore; he really is our little boy.

He's now officially a 16 month old and though the month "birthdays" don't register quite as much as when he was so new to us, it still throws me when a new month comes around. How can the boy be 16 months old already? Last week's ER visit threw me for more of a loop than I thought. I'm generally always fine in an emergency and then fall apart after (better, I suppose, than the alternative). My falling apart seems to be in little, heart-stopping, panicky aftershocks all week-- when I look at my little guy and am so full of who he is and then I remember how suddenly things got scary last week.

We saw a big billboard in our clip art quest yesterday. It showed a woman getting a massage and said, "It'll change your life." I was telling T that I would so love to get a massage some day (in my life... Chances are it could happen some day, right?) and he said, "It'll change your life." I had this moment of thinking I wasn't so sure I'd want it then. It'd have to change my life for the better, because things are pretty good around here!

Wow, do a lot of people live life listening to This American Life? I thought it was just me, but here's another crafty person's favorite. My all-time favorite radio moment is the story in Fiasco! (episode 61) about the Peter Pan play. I've listened to it over and over and I crack up every time. Hilarious.

I meant to show scone pictures but I got this far and then, suddenly, they were gone. That's how good they are, people!