Baby Girl Turns One!

The first time I ventured out of the house when Laura was a baby, I realized a newborn was a magnet for mothers, particularly mothers whose children are grown but do not yet have grandchildren.  I had a woman literally weeping at the farm market about how quickly they grow.  And they all say the same exact thing: Enjoy every moment; it goes so quick.

Of course they’re all right.  Today we’re celebrating Ellie’s first birthday.  The last 12 months have brought so many changes in our family – some wonderful, some heart-wrenching.  But little Ellie has added a heaping dose of sunshine to each one.  She may just be the sweetest, most cuddly little person I’ve ever met. Happy birthday, baby!

May’s Poem

Do you remember the little series of poems by Molly O’Connor D’Antonio that I was publishing each month?  I missed a few during the crazy spring, but yesterday, after carrying two sleeping beauties up the stairs after a long walk (stroller ride) on a hot day, I found her latest musings, shared above.  The more times I read it, the more beautiful it seems. Enjoy!

Inherited Beauty

The funny thing about buying a house is that it doesn’t come with a user guide.  Even vacation houses have a little guestbook for people to share the highlights of their stay.  Can you imagine a little book with a  message from each person who owned this old house, a little glimpse into their lives and their experiences here?  How fun would that be?

We’ve had such a blast trying to figure out, say, where the light switch for the little lamppost near our sidewalk was (in the basement, naturally) and why the electricians who “completely redid all the electric in the house” used frayed cloth wire from the 1900’s for the wiring in the bedroom (ahem).    But among all the idiosyncrasies of this house there is a lot of charm.  I have to admit, I’m even developing a little keenness for some of the quirky little things that were on my “to eradicate in the first week” list.  But here is one of my absolute favorite things we’ve inherited with the house: a crazy beautiful, mature climbing rose scaling the lattice on our porch.

I cannot even count the blooms, and there are hundreds of little buds still to come.  I feel like I’ve inherited the reward for others’ faithful stewardship of this sweet plant, and hope earnestly that I can keep it thriving.  Any tips from my gardening guru friends?

Sowing Seeds of Thankfulness

Three weeks since we moved in, and for the first time, this afternoon both girls are napping – actually full fledged asleep – at the same glorious time! Can you sense my smile beaming through your screen?  I’ve told several people that I feel like time stopped, and I lost weeks of life when my sister passed away earlier this spring, and now with the temperature threatening to climb into the nineties tomorrow, I feel like time has been racing forward without any reprieve.  We’ve been swept up in the chaos of purchasing our first home, packing, moving, unpacking, and the endless projects this almost centennial house affords.  So today, in the quiet, I feel like I’ve been hurled out of tornado, and have landed in a lovely little home, with a sweet summer breeze wafting through the attic, where I sit perched for a few minutes of solitude, and the extra gift of time to write!

I am learning, in this transition, probably for the 457th time in my life, the value of the discipline of thankfulness.  The other night, as I scrubbed and Murphy Oil Soaped our dining room floor for the first time (I know, I know, almost three weeks after moving in… what can I say?), I was grinning from ear to ear, that this was our floor, that we had a house, with jobs to do to take care of it.  And it occurred to me that I would probably not feel such elation at the prospect of cleaning this house forever.  There’s so much novelty to playing house.  I see it in Laura, who tells strangers she meets that her new house has an attic, but really, we’re all enjoying the newness (except maybe Ellie, who has been largely contained by a combination of Pack & Play/exer-saucer/Johnny-Jumper/Crib rotation for the past few weeks). It’s easy to be thankful when something is new and exciting.

I know there will be a day when scrubbing floors and yard work feel more like prison bars than a gift. So I am working on the practicing thankfulness now, so the habit is well developed, and rooted in me when that day comes. I’m practicing by remembering to give thanks, to actually express it- to God, to my husband, around my kids.  I’m practicing by letting gratitude simmer and mull in me, by thinking on the good, the lovely.  And I’m practicing by giving thanks for the things that have been and continue to be hard about this move, because I want to give thanks in all things – the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Bookplates for Poky Puppies

I am a middle child.  Have I mentioned that?  I kind of revel in it, and my childhood was chock full of instances when I went above and beyond to emphasize my tragic middleness. There was the Latino Christmas Disco Band my middle cousin, Doug and I planned to start in his garage – a desperate plea for attention.  Or the time I faked my own death: changing clothes and stuffing my old ones with pillows before tossing my duplicate (complete with Cabbage Patch head, mind you) out the upstairs window, directly above the room where my family was gathered.  “Doh.  There goes Annie,” I heard them respond amidst laughter.  Still not sure if it was the thumping of my footsteps racing across the ceiling, trying to catch their reaction, or the fact that the cabbage patch doll had become dislodged during flight that gave it away. So, yeah.  A little flair for the dramatic.  But this morning I got cold, hard evidence of the seeds of my perhaps over-exaggerated middle child syndrome.

My sister Bethany emailed me this picture, a hysterical treasure inside one of our long forgotten childhood books. (Who knew remembered the Poky Little Puppy had a sequel?)  I mean, come on, even Fritzie the family dog got a piece of it after I was crossed out!

If you’re looking for a way to stake your claim on some best loved books in your library, here are a few cute ideas.  Watch out, Bethany, Sarah and Fritzie.  I may sticker over your hostile crayon cross out, yet!

{a} Just one of many lovely bookplates designed by Nicole Balch, of Making It Lovely, found at her store, Pink Loves Brown. This one is $8.00  for a set of 8.

{b} Ladybug Labels sells these, and many other adorable self-adhesive labels on her etsy shop. Best part: choose from 48 colors!  $9.00 for 28 labels.

{c} I found these fun DIY labels via decor8.  Check out Martha Stewart’s printable bookplates.  Cost: $Nada!

{d} Helen Dardik, of Orange You Lucky designed these sweet printables as a thank you to her blog readers. Super cute. Be sure to check out her neat-o-keat-o illustrations.

Easter & Life

In the wake of the heartache I’ve experienced these last few weeks, I’m finding such comfort in the gift of Spring – harsh, driving rain that pounds down with permission- even expectation- to grieve, followed by the first truly warm, jacket-free, flower-blooming days – an invitation to get out, be grateful, and keep living fully.  All this coincides with Easter, too:  my favorite holiday, an opportunity to stop and dwell on the person who matters most to me, and the gift of life He gives.

As you think about Easter, I want to share a two little gifts with you, both of which I came across through friends.

The first is a blog.  My friend Larissa introduced me to the idea of an Easter Garden, pictured above.  It was created by Ann Voskamp, and after reading her description of the process, I was quickly drawn in to her blog, A Holy Experience. I’ve been so comforted and re-centered by her writing.  Ann’s blog sets out to be “a still chapel” and it has been that for me this week.  Her writing has such a pure goodness to it. Take a minute, and read it when you have the time to soak it in, not in a frenzy of internet blitzing.  It’s good.  Also, check out her heartfelt and beautiful ideas for celebrating Easter, and more details on making your own Easter Garden- steeped with meaning and hands on learning for your family.

The second little gift is a song, that I discovered by way of one of my favorite blogs, b*spoke.  Bethany posted this just today, and it brought me to my knees.  The words tied my grief up into a tangible parcel and placed it right where it belonged, at the foot of the cross. It’s called Out of the Depths, by Sovereign Grace Music.  Here are some of the lyrics, or listen to it here.

The secret mysteries belong to You/ We only know what You reveal / And all my questions that are unresolved/ Don’t change the wisdom of Your will/ In every trial and loss / My hope is in the cross  / Where Your compassions never fail

As we embrace Good Friday and Easter this weekend, I hope your heart (and mine) is soft and open to the whispers of God – His mercy, His faithfulness, the gift of His life.

Hiatus & Five Blogs

My apologies for the lack of content around here lately.  Although, to be candid, I’m not really sorry.  This computer has been the last place I’ve wanted to be, as we recently received news that my oldest sister passed away.  It’s been heart-wrenching, and despite all my pondering and experience of grief in the past, nothing could have prepared me for the shock and sadness that have been my companions this week.  I’ve been so grateful for the love and comfort we’ve received from so many friends near and far as we walk through this time of loss. Here’s a picture of us as kids, my oldest sister keeping me (on the right) from sliding off the hay bale.

I’m taking a little hiatus from blogging and taking comfort in extra time with my family and just adding a little space.  As I sign off for a bit, I’ll leave you with a few links I had prepared & planned to share a few weeks ago, but never got to post.

Be back soon,

Annie

*******************************

Here are a few of the many, many blogs I discovered during the Blogging Your Way class that Holly, from decor8, and Leslie, of A Creative Mint taught this Spring. I highly recommend the class to any aspiring bloggers.

The posts from Jules of Pancakes & French Fries is hysterical, useful, comforting, thought-provoking – depending on the day. Be sure to check out  The Bright Side Project, which she and the lovely Miss B collaborate on.

Oh, Alison.  Beets and Biscuits makes cooking from scratch look like so much fun!  Great recipes, great photos.  If you need inspiration to get in the kitchen…

At Good Measure, find a daily dose of inspiration, and then some!

Eva’s beautiful photography inspires me to take more [better] pictures of my kids.  Beautiful.

Despite the fact that home and burlap and cute birds are dear to both of our hearts, Bonnie’s blog has a totally different approach to settling at home & exploring design.  Again, lots of great inspiration.

You’ll be seeing all these blogs on the blogroll soon!

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.