Gold Star for Pier 1 Imports

I’ve never really been a huge fan of Pier 1 Imports. It’s not like I don’t have things from Pier 1 that I love. In fact, my mental tally of random Pier 1 things I own and love is almost, almost making me consider rewriting that last sentence. But when I walk into Pier 1, there’s just so much stuff, and I feel like so much of it is just reproductions of things that would be really cool if they were actually vintage wire egg baskets, or genuine candlesticks from Morocco.

So why, you ask, am I giving Pier 1 a big, fat gold star today? Well, let me tell you.

Numero Uno: This little ad landed on my table the other morning, smack dab in the middle of our self-quarantined week of the everything virus. My husband usually gets the mail at the end of his work day, and it’s my little treat to look over it at breakfast: hoping for a hand-written letter, contentedly settling for a fun flyer, or disdaining those purely junk-mail days. This week, Pier 1 gets big props from this average sized mama for featuring a model who looks like a real (albeit beautiful and voluptuous) person. Check her out! Her waist is not smaller than her neck! I’ve been pretty impressed with the big Dove campaign for Real Beauty, but, you’ve got to admit, there was a lot of hype about it: Look at us, we’re making a positive impact on young girl’s body image. Given the airbrushing and eating disorders that color our country, the hoopla was probably necessary. But Pier 1 takes it a step farther, in my opinion, showing us how far we’ve come, by featuring this lovely looking lady sans all the exhibition. The fact that it stuck out to me indicates that we (or maybe just I?) still have room to grow, but, still, way to go, Pier 1: Way. To. Go. And as if that wasn’t enough to earn a gold star…

Numero Deux: I was totally inspired by this table (as shown in the flyer here); it took everything in me not to whip out my paints and start distressing my table legs. As I’ve thought about our big move, I’ve been trying to figure out how to incorporate our basic Ikea table, that looks something like this into a more finished dining room in the new house. I’ve been thinking Pottery Barn Farmhouse style, and this look definitely farmhouses it up. I’m super excited to work on the distressed look.

Who knows, maybe I’ll even shop Pier 1 for a few chairs to match,you know, now that they’re on my good side and all, mass wire baskets notwithstanding.

The Everything Virus

This picture doesn’t really do justice to the mess and chaos in our house right now.  I snapped it last night, as I sat nursing Ellie, chuckling out loud at the mess. We’ve been hit with what I call the “everything virus.” Those of you from New York know the everything bagel: sesame seeds – check, poppy seeds – check, coarse salt -check, onion – check: it’s got it all.  I hate them.  Well, that’s pretty much how this virus works too, only substitute sesame seeds, salt and onion with fevers, croupy coughs, vomiting, and diarrhea (Can you write that on a blog?)

I was considering writing a Top 100 Things to Be Thankful For When Your Kids are Sick list, to keep myself from going down the path of utter self-pity, but I only got to #2 (the ripe avocado I had with lunch) before I had a total meltdown about a couple things I needed from the grocery store, and my inability to get them without dragging the kids out.  It wasn’t really the rice cereal, though.  It was the battle with the insurance carrier, and the stress of waiting to hear about the house, and the exhaustion that comes with sick kids.  The rice cereal was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.  So, I don’t have words enough to thank my dear, dear friend Jean Ellen rescued me (despite her busy day) with the rice cereal and Pedialyte (and threw in some chocolate dipped-chocolate chip cookies and a dinner to boot!)

So, today, I’m thankful for:

1. Jean Ellen – her act of kindness & the hope she instills in me by her example
2. modern medicine
3. running water
4. disposable diapers (I know, I know…)
5. those avocados
6. conversations with Laura
7. cuddles with Ellie
8. the warm(er) weather & open windows to get some fresh air
9. Ted not working tonight
10. both kids napping simultaneously

And that’ll have to do for today. Baby’s waking up.

Mamamama Mamamama

It happened.  Tonight.  She said my name.  Well, one of them.  Sweet little Ellie’s been working on her “m” for a week or two now, but tonight she looked at me and said “Mamamama” and then buried her face in my shoulder, her sweet, shy gesture, when I gushed over her in delight. She did it again and again, all throughout the night.

After I snuggled her to sleep, I stood in the kitchen, slicing mozzarella and chopping basil to freshen up the leftovers I was nuking in the microwave.  No one else was there, but I stood beaming ear to ear, thinking about the sound of her little voice saying my name.  On any given day, a lot of people say my name: friends, family members who know my childhood nicknames, the telemarketers who call our house, my husband, who knows how to melt my heart with the sweet names he calls me.

But there was something about this little voice, just now learning how to articulate the sounds produced by her very breath wafting over her little vocal chords, those same vocal chords that developed while she was growing inside my own body, and the fact that she used those first sounds to say my name.  And it hit me, as it usually does, like a ton of bricks. How must our Creator, God, feel when His children – those He made in His image, with a heart full of love and creative design, speak His name – on purpose, because He is the center of our lives, the source of our existence, the one who cares and provides for us daily.  And when Scripture says “The heavens declare the glory of God, the skies proclaim the work of His hands,” could it mean that He has been whispering to us “Mamamama,” as I have to Ellie, longing to hear her say my name? And does His heart just break that some of those He’s created never speak his name at all?

I’m thankful for the quiet in my home tonight, and the opportunity to soak this all in, and to whisper, “Abba, Father,” knowing He delights in the sound of this little voice calling His name with all the love I have to muster.

On Doll Houses & Real Houses

I’ve only purchased a few items via Craigslist: my glider, our stroller, and this doll house.  We got it for Laura (and eventually Ellie) this Christmas, from the sweetest lady.  She lived well over an hour away, but met us minutes from our house during a snow storm.  She mailed us extra furniture she came across. It’s been a feast for Laura’s imagination, and she plays with it daily.  Along with these sweet wooden dolls, several other playmates inhabit the house: figurines, stuffed animals, anything that can squeeze through that little front door.

Little did I know, that night when I stayed up well past 4am re-wallpapering and sanding, that in a matter of weeks we would be looking for our first home, and eventually settle on one not unlike the little Victorian Laura’s playthings live in.  We’ve embarked on the, how shall I say,  adventure of purchasing a short sale, and this week we heard that things are moving in the right direction.  Still, I like to say we’re cautiously hopeful.

It can seem like a big deal, a house.  And in some ways it is.  I have moments of total meltdown where I wonder what we’re doing, and if this decision falls into line with the goals and dreams that have fueled our marriage, and my sense of identity. Thankfully, Ted’s usually able to keep his cool during these glorious rants, and we grow through the process. (I  like to think I do the same for him, too.)  So today, with all the unknowns and questions, I’m comforted by the companionship I have on the journey and I’m challenged to remember where my real identity and home is found.  And instantly I’m at home.

Summer, We Miss You.

Laura and I threw an all out, dress-up, fine-china, tea party to help us survive the winter blues and blizzard this weekend.  I let her pick everything: the tablecloth (a Kenyan print from Ted’s grandparents), the napkins (white lace), and the tea sets (one tin, one china, one stoneware) and the menu (apple slices, cheese, pretzels and tea). It was quite the event.  I forgot to snap any photos, but these little umbrellas are still hanging around.  They had been table decor, but after an impromptu game of hide and seek, they landed here.  Can you guess which one was Laura’s & which was mine? (Hint, they’re our favorite colors, respectively!)

Blizzards & Banana Bread

Day number two of snow, snow, snow! This morning Laura and I made Grandmama’s banana bread. We’ve made it so much this winter, that she knows the recipe almost by heart. She works right beside me on her trusty big girl stool, shown here next to the remains of an egg that someone (who shall remain nameless) rolled off the counter – oops! When my mom bakes, her kitchen is a well oiled machine.  She can be smack in the middle of 30 dozen cookies (which she did in her spare time Thursday) and her kitchen is cleaner in the middle of that than mine is after I’ve finished scrubbing it for hours (which I did… oh, wait – never).  I, however, create such a crazy whirlwind of chaos around me (in my kitchen, when I’m cooking, that is) that my husband thinks the aftermath could be an art form.

We saved one loaf for our family, and decided to spontaneously serve the other to our neighbors, as a treat when they came in from the great car shuffle at noon, when our apartment’s parking lot gets plowed.  Hope you’re warm and cozy this February night.

Wine Crates, Repurposed

Our little abode is quite a hodge-podge, almost equal parts Ikea and garage sale vintage treasures. One of my favorite little finds is an incredibly sturdy wine crate we found just before our wedding, as we were on the hunt for items to fill our first apartment. It’s held lots of different collections and served several functions, but right now it’s part side table, part shelf.If you have  an affinity for wine crates, check out the collection that Grace from Poetic Home put together last spring.  The inspiration she shared on repurposing wine crates, along with the many other tastefully selected treasures she highlights on her site, has made it one of my favorites.  Here’s a few more inspiring ideas to get your creative engines running!{a} Through Poetic Home, I stumbled upon this image, one of many lovely photographs of the home of Tracy and Michelle (by The Selby)

{b} Design Sponge offers a fun tutorial on creating a display case from your wine crate.

{c} Delightful Rachel, from Heart of Light, created these lovely little outdoor planters using wine crates.

With Thanks

I snapped this photo while little Ellie-bean was sitting pretty in the morning sun, surrounded, no doubt, by the slew of baby toys her helpful sister saw fit to arrange meticulously around her.  She started to crawl this week, as in move forward, intentionally, even occasionally lifting her belly off the ground. These last eight months have flown by.  I remember telling my husband, just before Christmas, that it was all down hill from here: that six months was the ideal baby age – blissfully immobile but fully engaged with smiles and coos.  No tantrums, all cuddles.  But I think I feel that about each stage (tantrums and all), that each moment we’re in is the sweetest, and that I don’t want to give it up, only to be surprised at the new joys around the corner.

We’ll be moving in a few months.  Ted started a new job this week, our normal routines have been thrown to the wind, and we’re in the middle of the complex chaos and waiting game of attempting to purchase a short sale. So many of the things that have been constants during the formative years of our life together are changing. But somehow, the simplicity and contentedness of little Ellie’s sweet presence has reminded me today that I have a lot to be grateful for.

I’m thankful for these sweet girls.

I’m thankful for a husband who shares his heart with me freely and loves me deeply.

I’m thankful for family & friends who love and encourage me, despite my many shortcomings.

I’m thankful that regardless of this house, I belong, and have found a home in Christ.

I’m thankful for the sunshine pouring in my windows, and that my girls took naps today.

I know it’s easier to be thankful in some situations, or seasons, than in others, but I want to encourage you today to embrace a posture of thankfulness.  It’s like a good sugar scrub for your heart: exfoliating the grime and sweetening up your perspective. So, tell me, what are you thankful for?

Breakfast of [very sensible] Champions

Funny little story today… We live on the late side of life at our house.  (Those of you who know me are either rolling your eyes or laughing, depending on where you fall on the early to late continuum.) So, when my girls roll out of their little beds around 9:30 (don’t be too jealous, we pay for it with our late nights…), I usually have a simple breakfast ready: toast or cereal, some fruit, maybe some previously made & frozen waffles, if they’re lucky.  But recently, I gave my ever increasingly opinionated three year old an open ended “What would you like for breakfast?” … just for fun!

I was ready for her best shot: candy hearts with hot chocolate, leftover apple cake, pizza. I wanted to see what her little imagination could dream up.  She thought for a minute, and with all the seriousness someone in pigtails can muster said, “I think I’ll have something that won’t make a mess and that has lots of fiber.” All I can say, is that she most certainly did not get that good sense from me!

We’ve have, however, had lots of talk of fiber lately, as we’ve been pureeing plenty of mangoes for her baby sister’s, how shall we say, irregularities? (Better than prunes, according to our pediatrician!) But, you never realize how much they pick up on and incorporate into their little brains, until these little gems pop out, just when you least expect it.

Here’s a shot of our favorite way to slice a Mango – cut lengthwise, sliced into a grid, and popped inside out. Yum!

Poetry & Pictures

As a little girl, poetry rolled off my mother’s tongue and spilled into our lives, making mundane moments ethereal. I’m thinking I like my peas with honey, among other things. I’m so pleased to bring a new feature to the blog today, one that stems from this love of poetry and will be returning each month for your reading pleasure! I recently learned that a very talented friend resolved in 2010 to write a poem each month.  (I so often think that loathing the task is a prerequisite of a New Year’s resolution, but this is pure delight!)  I’m so thrilled that she’s letting me publish them here!  Hope you have a moment today to make a cup of tea, find some sunlight, and soak in Molly’s lovely poems – one for January, and one for February, accompanied here by a photograph courtesy of another gifted friend, Janeen Messner of J. Singer Messner Photography, and a little chickadee I sketched just for you! Happy Monday.