Time Outs For Everyone!

Dinner was in the oven - a delicious-smelling chicken scampi recipe just begging for the rice that I *actually* remembered to start on time, for once in my life. Mikayla and Isaac had been looking at books for awhile, and playing Doctor, which constitutes them taking turns lying across two toddler chairs while the other gives them a "shot" using whatever toy happens to be nearby. Mikayla gave Isaac a shot today alternately using a diaper cover, a book, and a necklace. When it's Isaac's turn to lie down,  he sort of bends over the chairs and puts his head down, looking for all the world like he's assuming the position for corporal punishment.

But this isn't about that.

Mikayla and Isaac got bored with their repertoire of activities, so they approached me carrying all of the DVDs. She bombarded me with the repeated whiny, "Can we watch this one before dee-ner? Can we watch this one please?" I had told her no several times when it occurred to me that she was still whining, which is a disciplinable offense. 

I told Mikayla that if she kept whining, she would have to go in time-out. She asked, "What's time out?" I did not have my answer prepared ahead of time, but thinking quickly, I explained something to the effect that she would have to go sit by herself for a few minutes, not doing anything, and it would help her learn to obey.

She happily disappeared in the direction of the office. When I asked what she was doing, she said excitedly, "Can I go to time out in here?? Can I sit by myself in the office? Can I have time out now?"  Which, actually, yes, that is where the time-out chair will probably be when we use it. 

Moms, how did you introduce the concept of a time-out to your children? I clearly need a few pointers.

Alligators and a Future Blogger

This morning, I was getting ready for work when I heard the pitter patter of little feet and the telltale whimper that means Mikayla awoke before her time. She appeared in my doorway with fuzzy bed head and squinty eyes. "I want to push it. I want to push it!"

Umm....okay?

"Mikayla, what do you want to push?"

With increased agitation, "I want to push it!"

"Okay Mikayla, you may push it.....what do you want to push?"

"I want to push the alligator!"

"You bet, Mikayla. So...what alligator do you want to push?"

Without replying, she scurried off and disappeared back into her room. I heard her bedroom door close with its characteristic rattle and squeak, and then silence. I can only presume that she returned to bed or mourned for the next twenty-five minutes on our extreme lack of alligators.

Just now, I asked if she remembered what she said to me this morning. She didn't, so I reminded her about the whole alligator pushing thing. Without prompting, she told me that she dreamed about the alligator. I'm not sure whether she understands the concept of dreaming, or if the babysitter perhaps was talking to her about it earlier.

Either way...it was one for the journal.

Also, "the deal" was that if Mikayla let me finish this post without pushing all of the keyboard keys (particularly "caps lock" and "num lock", which glow green, and "delete", which for some reason holds great allure), she would be allowed to type a little something for you all. Folks, my daughter's blogging debut:

n v
          9kj

[Mikayla just spent several minutes lightly scuffling her fingers over the keyboard, no doubt in attempt to mimic her Momma's speedy, light-as-a-feather typing style. The above characters were the only ones to register. She then tried to push the "Publish" button with her finger as if this were the touch-screen phone she is used to navigating. Ahead of their time, these little ones are!]

And in closing, Mikayla would like to share the following silly face with her blog audience.

And a big smile to say "thank you for bearing with all my silliness!"

What a precious gift she is! Thank you, Lord, for my sweet girl.

Let's Make a Craft or a Mess, Whichever Comes First!

This morning, Mikayla wound her arms around her daddy's neck and tearfully told him, "I don't want you to go to work! I want you to stay and eat breakfast with me!"

What a little heartbreaker! I don't know how he made it out the door.

Because she missed her dadda, we (I) decided to make an "I love you" craft for Joel when he arrives home. My initial vision involved gluing pieces of pipe cleaner (which the kids LOVE to play with) onto paper in the shape of letters to read, "I love you!" That idea lasted all of two seconds, until I saw how incessantly Isaac grabbed at all of the pipe cleaners and how little interest Mikayla had in gluing them down accurately.

The immediately revised plan: Momma writes "I love you, dadda!" on the paper, and the kids glue pipe cleaner pieces wherever the heck they want to. Preferably on the paper, probably also on their heads. Also, the kids scribble with crayons to "decorate" the paper.

The reality: Momma writes on the paper, and glues the pipe cleaner pieces in the spots that Mikayla points to. Momma also glues some hearts on because that seems sweet. Mikayla scribbles on the card until she is bored two minutes later and asks for a different paper to draw on. Isaac scribbles on the card for only ten seconds, and proceeds to taste-test each crayon before throwing it emphatically to the ground. He then cries because the crayons are on the floor where he can no longer eat them.

Momma's takeaway lesson is to hold my plans and goals loosely with these little ones. What seems like a great, kid-friendly idea in my head often winds up way overshooting their abilities and interests. You preschool teachers out there are barely containing your laughter, I know. Aren't I, with my lofty expectations, so cute and naive?



The real kicker, though, is that you know when Joel walks in the door they are both going to take full credit for the "I love you" card. Fortunately Joel can still tell our handwriting apart, so he'll know I helped. And maybe he'll take it to work to keep on his desk for a bit, to remind him how much his little fan club loves their dadda, and how much his wife adores him for loving them back.

Apparently a Whole Bag of Round Tuits

We live in an old house with about a hundred doors. Really just six, but doesn't that seem like a lot of exterior doors for one home? It's a converted duplex, which explains some of the redundancy. I don't mind the design, because the doors have windows, which allows lots of natural light inside.

One of our front doors (it's a little confusing to visit our house) has this super neat old latch, and requires the actual vintage-looking key in order to lock or unlock it from the inside.

So that little key has to stay close to the front door, or else there is no opening it for the occasional salesperson or visitor who doesn't yet know to use the back door. With children who can easily grab the key in the keyhole and run, it obviously has to live someplace else, someplace very secret and/or unreachable. Especially because I have not yet discovered their mother of all hiding places, where three of my measuring cups have resided for at least two months now.

So far, this has been our very classy and aesthetically pleasing solution. Please note Isaac's phone in the foreground. He boosted it from Mikayla when she realized she could talk into an old iPod with similar results. Now our son toddles around happily with a pink plush cell phone going, "Hooooo (hello), pa pa, hoooo, mee-ma!" Who said anything about gender stereotypes at our house?

Tucked away in the recesses of my mind, then, has been a desire to find a more fitting home for our key. I thought it would be neat to hang it on a hook somehow, next to the door. But I never quite got around to it.

Enter my current obsession with repurposing picture frames and recent trip to Goodwill, where I purchased about ten really beautiful frames that we intend to use for a collage in our living room. Someday.

This project seriously consisted of removing the glass from the frame, and covering the cardboard backing with a piece of thin quilt batting and a scrap of muslin left over from my Advent calendar. I didn't even secure those in place, just put the frame back together and hoped for the best. I still needed a hook...a tiny, somewhat attractive hook...then I remembered that we had JUST that sort of hook on both sides of our bathroom window. I'm sure they're there to hold curtain tie-backs, but seeing as how I still have not curtained the bathroom, a year later I figured I could spare one of them.

I basically jammed the hook through my fabric and backing and secured the back with a little glue so it would hold the weight of the key. Here's how it turned out:

It's almost a little too neutral-on-neutral for me, but it does have a nice contrast with the maroon edge of the matting, and the darkness of the frame itself. It's hard to see, but there is tiny metallic detailing around the inside edge of the frame as well. I would consider swapping out the hook for a ribbon hanging in the frame if I had the right color, but alas, I do not.

This was a fun little project that required minimal time and resources, thanks once again to the rotary cutter that made trimming the materials a total breeze. I may not ever move out of this house (or when I do, they may find themselves short one front door key), because I love how much character and charm this old latch and key have. And now I get to enjoy it all the more from my comfy perch on the sofa. Bliss.

More to come, as I hope during naptime today to put together a frame for our bathroom mirror and/or repaint a wooden shelf I found for Mikayla's room. I don't know what it is, but I'm finally motivated to do the zillion projects I've been contemplating since we moved in. Perhaps somebody left a Round Tuit lying around here without me knowing it...

You know, you always get something done when you get "a round tuit". (Thank you, Dad, I remember that one from all the way back in your Westminster College days!)

Momma's New Menu Board

Remember when I promised to blog more often? Yeah, oops. In my defense, it's been pretty busy around here, and I have been tackling some of the projects that have gathered dust on my list for quite some time.

One of those projects has been to come up with a message board/menu board solution for our kitchen. Since we moved here a year ago, it's been this:

I actually haven't spent the last year holding this white board up on our freezer door; that's a new bonus feature from the past week. And the impetus for actually doing this project. You might also note the chip clip marker-holder, a real must-have. I call it Contemporary Mom on a Budget. It not only holds your marker most of the time, but it keeps you guessing when you open and close your freezer door. Where will the marker end up?? Under the buffet, or in a toddler's mouth? The possibilities are endless!

So obviously, reliability is an issue, as is general space and organization. I love my pretty menu planner notepad, but I have to walk across the room and squint to find out what's for dinner. The white board contains grocery list, wish list, and both Joel's and my to-do list. And my little project board is running out of space! (That's probably more my fault than an actual shortcoming of the white board, but still.)

I think I've made my case. Project Message Board commencing. Since I used my newly reorganized playroom/schoolroom/craft room, as well as my newish rotary cutting board and cutter (thanks, Mom P.!), I thought I'd show off with some process photos.

One element of my message board plan is to have a dry-erase menu board. I've shopped around and envied those I've seen on other moms' refrigerators. But I haven't found the perfect one to coordinate with my kitchen colors, such as they are. Meanwhile, I've noticed the Pinterest trend of repurposing old picture frames, using the glass as a dry-erase writing surface and doing any number of things in the background, from scrapbook paper to fabric to bare wall. I just happened to be surfing Pinterest (which I rarely do, actually) the other night, and inspiration struck at precisely 9:57 p.m. So that's when I started this project, obviously. It took about an hour, and felt so good to indulge my inner night owl.

I started out using remaining material from when I made our kitchen valence. I am a super matchy-matchy person, at least in fantasy if not in practice. Also, I have a huge fear of both commitment and failure when it comes to putting anything on my walls. (This might be why I am just now getting around to decorating our walls, a year after moving in.) If the fabric appears elsewhere in the room, my odds of decorator's remorse decline significantly.

By the way, if you consider yourself crafty, or would like to be, invest in a rotary cutter! It makes small sewing and craft projects in which you need to actually cut straight lines SO MUCH EASIER! I just put my fabric down with the photo frame backing on top, and cut around the edges with my rotary cutter. Easier than slicing pizza. Here's my fabric cut perfectly to size, on top of the cardboard backing piece.

I thought this fabric might have too many bold/dark colors going on to be able to easily see dry-erase marker on top of it. It needed to be a little muted, or lighter somehow, so that the writing would really contrast. Remember, the goal is not to be up close and squinty in order to read this thing. My actual thought process went something like this: I need something whitish...translucent...so you can see through it...like white tissue paper or vellum or....hmm a white plastic grocery bag is kind of the right idea.

Yes, yes I did.

Rotary cutter to the rescue once again (seriously, thank you, Mom P.!), and then I taped the edges of the plastic bag to the back of the cardboard frame backing. My fabric is in there between the layers. I pulled the bag taut as I folded and taped, so it wouldn't look too wrinkly on the front.

Moment of truth now as I flipped it over...

Wow, nice! The plastic bag nicely muted the fabric and didn't even look *that* tacky. Let's see how it looks inside the frame, behind glass:

You know what, I am actually kind of proud of myself.

Now, if there's one thing I've learned in the course of crafting/DIYing/being cheap, it's that my handwriting is not the stuff of artful display. My best calligraphy skills look like something that belongs on a middle school love note. Our babysitter puts me to shame, as I find my children's names all beautifully scrolled on the sidewalk in chalk. I really don't have an inferiority complex about it...yet...but when it comes to labeling my new menu board, I was obviously not going to write "Menu Board" at the top in sixth grade 3-D bubble lettering and call it a day.

Remember when I made our Advent Calendar? I still had some of my stick-on letters left. The Lord smiled upon this project because I had all the capital letters that I needed. It is good that they give you lots of N's and S's in these alphabet sticker sets.

The final product, complete with the current week's menu in my awesome handwriting. I totally meant to take a picture before writing on it, but I forgot. Thus you find yourself graced with proof that while my penmanship is legible, it is not fancy. That's about as good as it gets, right there. I'm considering adding a narrow matting inside the frame, but I also like it just the way it is (which, incidentally, reminds me of a Daniel Tiger episode we watched this morning. I like you, I like you, I like you just the way you are!).

Unfortunately, this will probably sit on our buffet until I finish the larger message board part of the project. Then they'll be hung on the wall along with my cast iron skillet in an arrangement that hopefully looks tasteful and decorative. For certain, though, it will hang reliably and not come crashing down in the middle of the night to scare the hoo-ha out of me (Joel sleeps through all things, though, so don't worry about him).

Thanks for reading along! More to come, as I've been in an absolute frenzy of projects lately.

Beet Canning, Part Deux

Today, I'm canning beets. I know, that's totally what you expected after Thursday's post detailing our upcoming surprise vacation. Why would I be doing something relevant like packing? No, this summer I'm learning that produce waits for no man. The gardener picks the beets when they're ready, and they will be no good if they are left in either garden or refrigerator for an extra week while we frolic about New Jersey. So, regardless of when that hotel room is booked, a-canning I shall go.

If you had told me ten years, five years...or even two or three years ago...that I'd be canning the produce that my husband harvested from our backyard garden, I would have chuckled and possibly made you feel insulted for saying so. My knowledge of canning comprised opening a few jars of something at some point and wondering what manner of witchcraft was at work in there. I figured I'd avoid the whole mystery altogether, if only to spare my family the risk of botulism, which I've heard is unpleasant.

But to date, I've apprenticed under a good friend as we canned applesauce, peaches, and beets. I've canned 24 quarts of applesauce completely solo, and have done beets twice this summer. I've also blanched and frozen green beans, but I don't take quite as much credit for that since it involves much less chemistry and prayer.

I hope this doesn't sound like boasting...far from it, I am marveling at how the Lord has taught me about the beauty and simplicity of local produce, even experiencing the hard work and blessing of reaping what we sow from our own plot of earth. We've known firsthand the wonder of burying a few tiny dead things, and being caught by surprise when the first tender shoots poke their green heads into the sunlight.

(As accomplished as I feel conquering the mystery of canning, God alone is master of the greater mystery of growing living things from dead ones.)

And I use the term "conquering" somewhat loosely. It's not so much, "I expertly preserve delicious homegrown food," as it is, "Nobody has died yet." Here's today's setup, which as usual involves heating my canner over two burners so that it will actually reach a boil. Also note the fun that awaits me on that left front burner, where my canning liquid bubbled over as I was cutting and packing beets. Beet juice, vinegar, and sugar create a nice caramelized effect as they bond over medium heat. Delicious, and possibly useful as an adhesive or sealant (see also: alkyd paint).

FYI, I cleverly cropped this photo so as to avoid the stacks of dirty bowls and other dishes lining the sink and counter. Because that's what we do when we self-promote on social-media, right? Leave out all the parts that make us actually look human and normal.

Big thanks to Joel, who spent much of his Saturday helping and occupying the kids while I did this. I just started to write more about that, but it kind of wandered off-topic and could be its own post on headship and submission, so...I'll just let you know that I've got a gem of a husband who constantly serves me and makes my job of helpmeet and homemaker so much easier. It could be he just enjoys the fruit of the labor: the small improvements in organization and aesthetics of our home, and yummy or at least non-fatal things to eat from the kitchen. But I feel blessed to have a thankful, supportive husband who values my work. I know that not all of us are so fortunate, and that marriages have different phases and seasons, so I don't take him for granted.

What I am apparently taking for granted is that I'll have time to pack between the Lord's Day, working eleven hours on Monday, and leaving Tuesday morning. I definitely have time to spare for a blog post. I like to procrastinate and thus give the Lord ample opportunity to "be in the details" and make everything fall into place "in His time". (I know this is what Scripture teaches about Providence, right? My theological and hermeneutical acumen is to be envied.)

Hungry kiddos mean blogging time is over. Have a blessed Lord's Day, and I'll catch you after vacation, with lots of photos, I'm sure!

Lemony Snicket's Got Nothing On Me Today

You know what's awesome?

Making a big batch of raspberry fluff and discovering that your kids do not like it with their fruit, forcing you and your husband to make the sacrifice of eating all three pints. That is truly awesome. I gaze at the three pale-pink jars in my refrigerator with great love and tenderness.

You know what's the opposite of awesome?

Missing a very small, but very important word on a new gallon of paint. That word is "alkyd". It is the opposite of latex, and the opposite of all things good and holy and true.

There are spiritual metaphors just begging to be drawn out of this one. After this afternoon's misadventure, I believe that God created oil-based paint to teach a lesson about the indelible stain of sin. Referring to Jesus as THE Mineral Spirit doesn't seem quite reverent, (and I don't know about you, but my sin requires a greater solvent than anything lurking on the basement shelf), but if you've worked with this stuff, you know how obstinately it refuses to wash away with soap and water. Or to be wiped away with anything less than an industrial-grade sandblaster.

What *was* the misadventure, you ask? It wasn't so much one major catastrophe as it was a series of unfortunate events. It started innocently enough...

1. I didn't initially realize that the bucket I'd opened was oil-based paint.

2. When I did figure it out, I couldn't find the mineral spirits that Joel so helpfully unpacked and organized forever ago.

3. Joel couldn't remember where he'd put it, either.

But that's ok, because I'd only dipped one brush, and not very far in. I've got another brush I can use with this other white paint...

4. Which also turned out to be oil-based. And textured. And I only discovered the non-latex thing when I tried to rinse it into the sink, which of course smeared white paint all over my hand. Short of decorating my daughter's forehead as the great white orc, I wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

So now I've got one hand forever sealed in white, and a textured patch of door that's going to require just enough sanding to be a pain. This is going well.

I'm nothing if not persistent, so I kept looking in the same four places until I found the mineral spirits hidden behind some drawers and tools on the basement landing.  Then I tried to use it on the paintbrushes and decided after one and a half seconds that I'd be purchasing new brushes.

5. PAINT EVERYWHERE.

6. Mikayla woke up and joined me; an audience always makes these sort of things go better, especially when they narrate your behaviors and throw in the occasional, "But, why?" Then of course she had to go #2.

And no joke, in the midst of all this, Joel called to share his realization that our vacation is one week sooner than we've been planning for the last six months. Meaning we leave in five days. Huh. Do these things happen to anybody else?

Commence the Calendar Shuffle as we clear a completely different week on our schedules.

So the anticipation won't get to build quite as long, but we're thrilled to spend next week with Joel's family, doing lots of fun things with all the cousins together - a museum, an aquarium, and a few other things yet to be determined. I have been saying for awhile, "I can't wait!" ...and it turns out, I don't have to! Surprise!

I think you'll understand when I tell you how thankful I am that it's a crock pot dinner day. With the way things have been going, I doubt I should handle any sharp objects or turn on the stove.

Someday the playroom will get that second coat of paint. For now, I'm going to reflect on the unwashable mess of my sin and the cleansing power of Jesus' blood. What a valuable object lesson for the day, in view of my powerlessness to remove something as simple as paint, even with all the soaps and detergents in the world.

Oh, precious is the flow that makes me white as snow.
No other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.


"Come now, let us reason together," says the Lord. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool." [Isaiah 1:18]

Soli deo gloria!