Awake

Yum, can you feel it?  The world is waking up  It's almost gardening season.  I can't wait.  This year, I'll battle the bunnies and slugs, and I will grow.  Flowers, veggies, lavender, basil, rosemary, and other assorted herbs.  Because it's just that fun.

Yesterday as the littles and I were leaving to pick up Girlie from school, I stepped out into the sunshine.  It was so wonderful, I couldn't help but sing out opera-style "The SUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN!!!" for the whole world to hear.  We picked up Girlie, and when we got home, she hopped out of the van into the sunshine...and sang out opera-style "The SUUUUUUUUUNNN!"  Truly my daughter. :)  Priceless.

Look at these stinkin' cute garden markers I found at Target's dollar spot.

And I even treated myself to new gardening gloves.  A tiny bit clownish, you think?

I'm ready for the sweet smell of hyacinths.  That reminds me of the other day...

"Hi, M.  How's it going?"

"Hi, Chris (salesguy for our subdivision, across the street)."

What are you doing?

Oh, um, counting to see how many hyacinths survived the bunnies.

What?

Hyacinths...flowers.  A bunch got eaten by the bunnies.

You're counting what?  Flowers?

Yeah, bulbs I planted in the fall.  They're sprouting, but a bunch got eaten.

I don't get it.  You're counting flowers?

Yep.

Okay, well, have a good day.

You too, Chris.

That was a difficult conversation...

And packets of seeds of all the deliciousness I plan to grow.

Like peas.

Right here.

My tulips that are starting to show their faces around these parts.

And primroses that I couldn't resist at the store.  They wanted to come home with me.

They promised to be good.

So far, so good.

Girls' Room Makeover

Remember?  This is what my girls' room used to look like.

Now, (only) eight months after my baby has arrived (and after a lot of projects and work), it looks like this:

Sweetie's side.

The rug was $20, Target.  It somehow went perfectly with the quilt tops I made from Moda's 'Hunky Dory' line of fabric.

Okay, let's be honest, the quilts aren't done.  Just the tops.  But I didn't want to wait another eight months to take pictures.

I can't put a bedskirt on the crib, because there is a vent underneath it.  So I settled for decorating with a little tulle.  It made the metal frame just a little more girly.  I found the sheet in Target clearance for $5.

Do you love this fabric??

Found this gem of a lampshade in my favorite shop in all of Kansas, Posh.  It is not J's favorite shop.

I made this picture out of matching quilt fabric.  The background is French book pages.  I loved it so much I made some more.

This mirrored hook I found at an antique shop.

The holdbacks were from a different antique shop.  Also not J's favorite shop.

The curtains were from Ikea.

Alas, our old crib was part of the recall.  Darn it, I had to pick a new one.

My friend knew my fabric and made me this garland to match.  What could be cuter than French dresses?

Love. it.

Girlie's side.

I already told you about the lamp and nightstand redo.

Found the chest at the end of the bed at a garage sale for $10.

Wouldn't you love to sleep here?

Even More of the Darndest...

One day I found Sammy cooing over Sweetie.  He goes from tough guy to mush over this little girl.  "Oh, hello my little sweetie!  Hello my little putrid baby!  How is my little putrid doing?"  He went on like this for a while before I said, "Honey, do you know what 'putrid' means?"

He looked a little indignant,  "Yes, of course!  Putrid is that little naked baby who flies around shooting love arrows at people."

Ahh...

___________________________________________________________

After a hurried morning to get four kids out the door for 2nd grade drop off, I sent the kids to get in the van.  I jumped in and looked in my rear view mirror.  And saw the kids both wearing goggles.
I laughed out loud and asked the kids what they were doing.  They leaned forward so I could see their backpacks.  I cocked my head, still confused.

Totally obvious, "Mommy, we're parachuters." 

Of course they're parachuters!

So, I obligingly accelerated so they could get a good liftoff, or whatever parachuters need.  Sammy called out on his hand radio "Echo base, echo base, come in Firewalker!"

That is an awesome way to start the day.

________________________________________________________

Sometimes my kids use words they don't know, in really funny ways.  Today, they were 'babysitting' Sweetie while I pulled a peach pie out of the oven.  They danced around her chanting "Car-bo-hy-drates!  Car-bo-hy-drates!"

_________________________________________________________

The kids busied themselves this afternoon making leprechaun traps.  I overheard them as they were cutting up all sorts of recyclables.

Girlie:  Maybe we can make a slide under this rainbow so he'll go down into a trap!

Sammy (shaking his head, a little disgusted at her ignorance):  No, Girlie, leprechauns won't go down there if your rainbow colors are in the wrong order.

__________________________________________________________

Overheard as I walked by the playroom:

Sammy:  Isn't Justin Bieber a girl?

Young and Sweet, Only 17...

That was kind of how I felt last night,  at a church youth dance.  J and I chaperoned at what was the first youth dance I've been to in, say, over 15 years.  The music was blaring, groups of girls flocked together shrieking, a few free spirits danced, completely uninhibited--just the way I remember.  Oh. so. fun.  The groups gathered, no one really dancing at first.  Everyone a little too anxious over what everyone else was doing. 

Lucky for me, a couple fun girlfriends of mine were also chaperones, and we had no problem getting our groove on.  I guess someone has to teach these kids how to have fun at dances (and we figured that if we were going to be spending 3 hours there, we might as well burn some calories). I wanted to tell these kids that now is the time to figure out how to dance, how to talk to someone of the opposite sex, how to interact with people.  Do it now, before you go to college!  Figure out who you are!  Be confident in who you are! 

Probably the highlight of the night was when I got asked to dance.  Seriously.  Cute young man came up and asked me if I'd like to dance.  My face registered flattered surprise while I searched for the right words (thinking that "Dude, I'm married" wasn't going to be it). My friend Vanessa explained kindly, "She's a leader."  Oh, he was mortified.  I felt sooooo bad for him, he was so embarrassed!  I wanted to say, "But good for you for being so brave to ask someone to dance!  And if I were 15 years younger, not married with four kids, I would totally dance with you!"  I even offered to help him look for someone else (probably should have just left it alone); he declined.

So interesting, though, to see a dance from this perspective.  Because, while 33 is still totally young and hip, some wisdom of years cast a new light on ...people's characters, I guess.  There was the pretty girl in black lace and 4" heels that said no (in the rudest way) to the dance invitation of a really brave, nice guy.  There were the guys that were actually way too cool to be there, but showed up anyway--just to show a little disdain, I think.  There was the guy who sat on the side with headphones on and refused every invitation.  But then, there were the girls that were confident enough in themselves to dance their funky dances without caring that no one else was.  The guy who wore knee pads to the dance because he knew he'd be breaking it down on the dance floor, even if no one else watched.  The big, slightly awkward guy who had a genuine smile on his face the whole night and took every opportunity to dance.  And the young man who, after being dismissed by black lace girl, just went and asked another girl to dance.  She said yes.  These are the kids who are setting themselves up for success.

And despite the slight despair I've been feeling over the state of the world and mankind, I watched these kids...and felt hope.

A Little Misleading

One thing that's great about being in a huge ward (church) is that there are tons of other girls interested in the same things you are, which means there are tons of fun clubs.  I go to Book Club, and Gardening Club, Craft night and Recipe Swap, and Playgroup.  And, no, that's not nearly all of them.  So it was no surprise that I saw a clipboard being passed around on Sunday for a new group.  What is it? I asked my friend.  A Hookers Club, was the response.

A Hookers Club? I'm sorry...?

I looked at the sign up.  Sure enough, it was titled "The Hookers Habit."  I know what you're thinking...the same thing I was...

...crochet.

I know, because that's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear about the habits of hookers, right?  I was actually a little too amused with it to actually sign up for the club, which I meant to do.  So, probably this Sunday I'll sign up to be a hooker.  And I'll form a new habit.  Involving yarn and crochet hooks.

Mid Winter Break

We had mid-winter break recently.  Lots of our friends went to Mexico or Hawaii or Disneyland.  We thought it sounded way more fun to just stay home. :)  So here's what we did:

Made homemade gak.

Try some, you might like it.  So will your kids.

Japanese night.

Then we got some serious snow (really, we did; this was the start, in a few hours we had a few inches).

We hit Jump Planet with some friends. Nothing like using up a bunch of energy.

Because taking a pleasant picture, let alone a normal one, is out of the question.

The kids also put on a play for us.  Never mind the boys.  For some reason they're acting out Star Wars when Darth Vader chokes that guy with the dark side of the force.

That reminds me, though, the other night Sammy was scared so I came to his room.  "I think I heard Darth Vader in the bathroom!"  No, honey, Darth Vader's not here.  Let me check. 'Darth Vader?  Daa-aarth.  Darthy?'  "Mommy!!!" he looked at me with big, scared eyes, "I don't think he likes to be called that!!!"

We also had "Camping Night" where we made smores over our gas stovetop and slept in the tent (in the playroom).

Seriously, why go to Hawaii?

When I Grow Up

A ballerina.  That was my first choice.  I sat there and watched Swan Lake and decided that I, too, wanted to wear a fluffy costume and flit around.  It's the earliest thing I can remember wanting to be.  I was maybe 4 or 5, taking ballet.  I dug in my heels every time class time rolled around, but once I was dancing I loved it.  Not sure when the dream faded, but I've settled for dancing with my kids around the kitchen.

Then I watched 'Father of the Bride' and decided that I wanted to be a wedding planner.  Hel-lo, planning beautiful weddings for a living?  Flowers?  Cake?  Fancy dresses???  What could be better.  That dream lasted for a while, interrupted only by a short stint when I wanted to be a doctor--even when I started at BYU I went into Public Relations.  It was the closest thing to a party planning major I could find.  And then I planned my own wedding and changed my mind (I'll just play wedding planner to my little girls).  By then I had switched to Interior Design, following in the footsteps of my mother.  It also seemed to lead along in the party planning direction, but it was much more inspiring to examine textiles than it was to examine statistics.  A life in all things to "gladden the eye"?  My cup of tea.  {Of course, I wanted to be a mom, and not like a friend put it "Yes, I've thought that I wanted to take five years off and be a mom, too."  But for today's purposes, I'm not talking about the higher calling of a mother, but about a paying gig.} 

I landed in the perfect place for me.  After doing my time in the trenches, working for other designers, retail showrooms, what have you, I lived my dream of having my own interior design business.  I was my favorite boss ever.  I LOVED my clients, felt completely inspired in what I did, found enormous satisfaction from creating beautiful spaces that people loved to be in.  That I got paid was just an amazing bonus. It was a dream job. 

Now that I have four little ones that keep me hopping, it's not practical for me to work much.  Well, actually when people ask me if I work, I tell them I work very hard, I just don't collect a paycheck.  Of course I wouldn't change it for the world, and feel grateful every day for my home time.  But the crazy haired artist inside me still wonders what I'll be when I grow up.  I toss around ideas all the time (including being a missionary in a 3rd world country!  I know, me, who just now likes camping!).  The yearning to create and spread beauty cannot be squelched.

When J was in undergrad, he sat in an auditorium filled with business students.  The professor asked for a show of hands of those who were in business for the love of it.  Only a scant handful raised their hands (lucky for me, J was one).  The others, given no need for money, said they'd be a photographer, a gym teacher, a florist, etc.  How sad, I thought.  While there is only honor in honest labor, working at a job I hate sucks the life out of me until I wither and want to die.  And that's no way to live.  Why not chase after your passion?

Instead I dream of the little shop I'll have some day with handcrafted goodness and beautiful things to make your house a home.  Come visit me.  We'll share a cup of hot chocolate (when, finally, I'll be done nursing and can eat from my favorite food group again) and chat about life. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm busy currently raising a veterinarian, an astronaut, possibly a comedian, and (as far as I can tell) someone who just sits there looking extremely cute.

Tell me, what do you want to be when you grow up?