parenthetic(rhetoric)

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 31}: for the long haul

2011-10-31T09:31:00.000-04:00

Occasionally my sister and I have parenting panic attacks on the telephone. What if we have the best intentions but completely fail at this job called parenting? Do you ever have those moments? It's a weighty job.

When I'm having one of those days where I feel less than inspired, I always come back to a comforting concept. Parenting is a long haul job. It's not about having perfect children that make me look like I'm doing a great job right this second. It's about leading my child to eventually choose Christ with all that he is.

Along the way, they are going to have bad days. I'm going to have bad days. But thankfully there is always more grace. I have to remind myself that if I live authentically before them -- loving them and loving God in my own broken state -- by the grace of God, I will have done my job well.

Enjoying the ride and cutting myself some necessary slack is important. I'm not very inspirational when I'm burying myself in guilt for who I am not. This week I've been reading Grace for the Good Girl by Emily Freeman. I am motivated to live in the freedom of Christ, even and especially as I parent my children.

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Thank you so much for hanging out with me these 31 days. I can't believe it's already come to a close. I have a lot more to say, so I'm still going to be here. Writing. I'd love it if you still came back reading. Please consider following my feed or subscribing for free to receive my posts via email (at the top right of the screen), or just keeping stopping by! A big thank you to The Nester for getting this 31 Days party started. It's been so much fun! I've found so many wonderful people with wonderful blogs because of it. And, most of all, I have been thoroughly encouraged along the way.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 30}: Toys that Inspire

2011-10-30T22:16:00.000-04:00

I can't believe it's already Day 30. Now I feel at a loss of what to post for the last two days. It feels like it should be something of major consequence. Instead, I'm going to talk about toys.

My favorite inspirational toys are open-ended ones that promote creativity. Intermixing these toys brings endless creative play. Here are my top ten favorites:

1. Cardboard Blocks. Some days I wonder why I didn't purchase these sooner. Not a day goes by that these are not pulled out multiple times, playing countless roles. Among the most popular: a Wipe-out obstacle course, an Angry Bird set-up, a shark tank, and a tunnel for their train sets. These blocks have also been transformed into an airplane (two blocks per seat, together forming rows of seats), lily pads, towers, fortresses, snow shoes, pet houses and a kangaroo.

2. Wooden Train Set. We bought our train table and train set on clearance when Matthew was about 18 months old. It has been used almost every day since. As the years go by, creating track layouts has become a complicated feat of engineering, joyfully passing away many afternoons. We love mixing plastic animals in to create a zoo train and adding wood blocks or Mega Blocks to create buildings and tunnels. Construction paper is a great way to add ever-changing lakes, parks and even snowy/icy areas for arctic landscape.

3. Animals. Stuffed, plastic and Little People animals have all been well-loved in this house. They have endless uses, like playing zoo, aquarium, farm, veterinarian, pet store, jungle explorers and animal rescuers.

4. Marble run. Though this can technically only do one thing, the configurations are endless. We also combine it with dominos to create more diverse layouts. For $20, it's definitely a wonderful creative toy to own. Anything that you can spend an hour building before the official playing begins is a great toy in my book.

5. Legos. It probably goes without saying. I also love MegaBlocks for the younger years.

6. Matchbox cars. I don't know what it is about them, but my boys could play with these for hours. Sometimes half the fun is in the choosing which cars to race. Or sorting them and lining them up. And of course, racing them. And crashing them. In this same category are toy trucks and airplanes. My mom and Matthew used to spend hours playing air show, lining up the display planes, filling up the parking lots with spectator cars, then enacting the actual show.

7. Kitchen and play food. It's not just for girls. I love that you can play so many things with play food. House, chef, restaurant and grocery store. So many awesome opportunities. My favorite spin is when we play restaurant. We usually start by first designing our restaurant -- naming it, making menus, then we get to the playing. I love any activity you can draw out for hours of creative fun.

8. Board Games. Board games are a great way to connect and interact. I love sharing them. You don't have to limit yourself to the typical kid games. I like to branch into adult games too. Matthew loves playing kid-modified Scrabble with us. When he was little, I used Boggle dice to play a letter recognition game with him, and later to practice letter sounds. He loved it because he was playing with our grown-up stuff. To change things up, we also like to start with a standard game in our closet and then springboard into something new; Matthew uses his Sorry game as a starting point for lots of homemade games.

9. Dress-up Clothes. We were slow getting into this, but both boys have had so much fun with costumes this past year. Especially when their friends come over.

10. Construction Paper. If we don't have a toy, we make it. Every ball in our house has been transformed into an angry bird. We've made every animal costume imaginable -- bald eagles, cats, birds, kangaroos and even the Backyardigans. Construction paper might be the most versatile thing in our whole house. Construction paper for the win.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 29}: why i cried at vbs

2011-10-29T17:30:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine once told me that his home life was somessed up as a child that he would not be of sound mind if not for thegospel. The gospel and its rescue reached intohis world via a young friend who invited him to church one day. He told me this late one night, overten years ago, and I’ve never forgotten it.

In fact, it was what brought me to tears as I stared at thesweet faces in our little circle of fifth-grade girls on our final day of vacation bible schoolthis summer. These girls can takethe gospel to people that I never could. They can bring sanity and hope into hopeless places. Everywhere they walk they take withthem the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ. At their lockers, on their bikes, with their kindness, quirkand giggles. They take it withthem. It goes before them. I love that parade of triumph as Ipicture them walking into school with the gospel on their backs.

Theknowledge of a big God coming from the mouth of a little body is a beautiful,wondrous, tear-jerking thing. Sometimes when you want someone to know something so badly, all you can do is cry.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 28}: share your passion

2011-10-28T22:28:00.005-04:00

I love doing all kinds of projects with Matthew and Nolan. But some of my favorite moments happen when I'm sharing one of my passions with them. I love reading, so every time we read together, I feel that joy. I also love learning, so learning about new things together is really exciting. I have a passion for children's books; when Matthew and I staple a pile of paper together and make our very own book, clouds part, birds chirp and rainbows fill the sky.

Architecture, design and illustration are each a huge part of who I am. A fun part. So when Matthew suggested making a city out of left-over cardboard from a New York skyline I made for Vacation Bible School this summer, it was the recipe for one of my favorite days ever. Seriously, it was so much fun that I almost felt guilty. But Matthew's excitement level matched mine, so it was a win-win.

We each designed are own buildings, often consulting each other about what our town needed. It turned out to be a great, impromptu social studies lesson, with a side of architecture. We talked about signage and the difference between a public street side and a service back side. I created a school, a luxury apartment complex and a bookstore. He create a pet store, an aquarium, an office building, and our favorite lunch spot -- Cheli's Chili Bar.

Nolie joined the fun and scribbled on his own high-rise cardboard scrap. Not to be outdone, Matthew grabbed a taller scrap and the official skyscraper race began. In the end Matthew taped on an extra tower to the top of his to secure the victory. It's funny how art mimics life. Our last building was a three-story Apple Store, because every town's gotta have one of those.

Once we finished, we set them up in the basement with little paperdoll-esque stands and made plans for a park, a baseball stadium and a large monument. Our poor town has since gotten semi-demolished by a rogue cozy coupe and a crazy two-year-old, but the fun lives on.

So, share your passion -- whatever it is -- just for the fun of it. If you're enjoying yourself, they probably are as well. And who better to share your passion than you.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 27}: Project Inspiration

2011-10-27T19:59:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I talked about our fun day inspired by If I Built a Car. Inspiration for mixed media, book-inspired creative moments can come from anywhere. Here are a few of our favorite book-inspired moments from this year:

One fabulous day, Matthew and I delved into Chris Van Allsburg's crazy world of Jumanji. As soon as we finished the story, Matthew jumped up, ready to create his own board game. Click {here} to read an account of that perfect book-inspired afternoon.

Kali Stileman's book, Roly-Poly Egg, inspired an afternoon of finger painting, google-y eyes and beaks. It was a perfect all-ages project. Nolan's purple bird was my favorite.

This summer an abandoned hummingbird feeder on our back deck led to an interest in birds. We filled it up with red nectar and were all entranced by the wonder of our tiny visitors. Lois Ehlert and Betsy Franco both created beautiful collage art books full of wonderful winged creatures. Our family highly recommends Feathers for Lunch and birdsongs. They are the perfect kid-inspired science books, packed with thoughtful, factual information, brought to life with gorgeous artwork. Following their lead, Matthew created his own bird watching book, using their artwork as a guideline. A few days later, both boys painted dollar store birdhouses to hang outside.

Moments like this don't have to be elaborate or pre-planned. The opportunities are as endless as your child's interests and imagination. If you just look for windows of opportunity and go with the flow, learning, creativity and fun collide. Projects like this generate interest in the subject matter, reinforce the material and create wonderful memories. And, for a bonus, they are also an easy way to fill a chilly afternoon.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 26}: mixed media magic

2011-10-26T17:08:00.001-04:00

My mom gave Matthew this awesome building set for Christmas last year. It's called ZoobMobile. It sat on the shelf until a couple months ago. Now we've been having all kinds of fun with it. Most often we make race cars, one for each of us, and have a big race.

When I saw If I Built a Car at the library, I loved it for two reasons. One, it reminded me of the House of Tomorrow segment I used to love during the Looney Tunes on Saturday mornings as a child. I used to imagine all kinds of inventions after seeing those bits. Two, I knew that Matthew would be totally geeked about imaginary car design after reading it.

I checked it out of the library and kept it quietly aside, waiting for the right day and the right moment. One afternoon, while Nolan was napping and Matthew and I were Zoob-ing, I pulled out the book. I had barely finished before Matthew jumped up and ran to the kitchen table, just as I thought.

We whipped out the markers and tracing paper and each designed our own crazy If-I-Built-a-Car cars. Mine had auto-pilot, a bed, and lots of bookshelves. Matthew's had a multilevel aquarium, a pool and a water slide. We had a blast.

These kind of extended moments don't happen every day, but when they do -- they feel like a little bit of magic. Sometimes I plan for the magic; sometimes it transpires completely accidentally. And, to be honest, sometimes it flops. But when it works, I wish my eyes were video cameras to capture the whole thing for slo-mo replay when I'm old.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 25}: say yes to questions

2011-10-25T11:19:00.002-04:00

One essential ingredient to gaining knowledge is the belief that there are answers to our questions. People who ask questions learn things. But, in real life, when why is your toddler’s favorite word and your older child loves to hear himself talk, it’s easy to tune out the questions.

But those questions are key to inspiration.

Little minds want answers. They want to figure things out. The saddest thing is when they learn not to ask the questions anymore. When their curiosity dies a slow death from lack of attention, lack of information, or lack of affirmation.

But let's face it, sometimes we don't know the answer to the question. Or we just can't open our mouth to answer one more why that day. When I heard the idea of a Question Jar I knew it was a keeper. Of course I'm not organized enough to have an actual decorated, dedicated jar, but we did immediately implement the idea.

Most of our questions happen in the car. When I don't know the answer, or (as is most often the case) Matthew doesn't trust my answer, we do one of two things. I tell him to write it down when we get home and put it in our question pile. (Yep, it's that non-glamorous). Or I tell him to remind me to Google it as soon as we get home.

Since I'm a procrastinator, I try to most often answer the question immediately (to make sure that it doesn't fall through the cracks). So we do a lot of Googling. Which is great because it shows tons of photographs and information at the click of a button.

When we have more time or the question is more involved, we add in some other methods. If it's a question that he could ask dad, grandma or grandpa, we encourage that route. If it's something that can wait long enough for a trip to the library, we'll grab a book about it at our next visit. Having the option to the write the question down and set it aside buys some time while also sending the message that asking questions is good. Because it is -- so good.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 24}: another brick in the wall

2011-10-24T21:49:00.007-04:00

When I was asked to speak to a group of under-privileged third graders about being a children’s book artist, I struggled over what to say to them. I was nervous. I’m not the type to wear a clown nose and juggle, if you know what I mean. My mind frantically searched for an option that did not involve a costume. The imagery came to me, as I was about to fall asleep one night, after reading a secret about Henry Fonda on Emily Freeman's blog.

The famous Fonda reportedly used to throw up before every performance. This knowledge sent me to our local teacher’s store in the morning, a day before my presentation, and had my husband and I constructing cardboard bricks late into the night.

I lugged them into the gym in garbage bags and unceremoniously dumped them during the performance. Eager eight-year-old hands rose to volunteer. I asked three of them to build a wall in front of me while I continued to talk, telling them about my life. How I had chosen practicality over secret dreams at first. About how I am scared every time I stare at an empty sheet of paper, waiting for my lines.

When they were finished with their cardboard wall, I told them the truth. Everyone has one, a wall between them and their dreams. We think they don’t; we think they succeeded because they didn’t have a wall like ours. But even Henry Fond throws up.* And I have to psyche myself into drawing the first line, every time.

We want to karate chop it down in one moment. But it doesn’t work that way. The wall comes down brick by brick, little by little. Chink, plink, plop. Go to school. Show up. Study for the test. Draw, draw, draw. The first line, the next one. Research. Submit. Believe.

Until one day, you are on the other side, smiling, with a pile of cardboard behind you.

I almost cried as I watched them throw some kicks into bricks that day. As they asked me inquisitive, hopeful questions, I was rooting for them inside, Make it, guys, make it. As I walked into the chilly parking lot, my hopes for them stayed with me.

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*I didn’t really tell them the tidbit about the throwing up. They wouldn’t have known who in the world Henry Fond is, and talking about throw up – though motivational to me – didn’t seem like the way to motivate a bunch of third graders.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 23}: flip your perspective

2011-10-23T08:30:00.002-04:00

Today turned out to be surprisingly beautiful around here. I love every kind of autumn day. Rainy ones hold a special spot in my heart though. As a kid I loved rainy days, because no one argued if I read all day or wandered off in my imagination. In the near future, on a rainy day, when you're all feeling a bit bored and restless, try one of the favorite pastimes of my youth. Grab your little ones and lay on the floor with your feet in the air. Pretend your house has been flipped upside down. Or that you have the ability to walk on your ceiling. Imagine away. Ask your kids where they would hang out. Soffits are wonderful reading spots. Or jumping spots. Slopped ceilings can be slides. Ceiling fans can be carousels or the perfect spot for a tea party. If you're feeling really inspired, ask them to make some drawings of their flipped house and the special spaces they would create up there. I passed many a rainy afternoon in my wonderful upside house. I hope you will too.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 22}: the gift of an apology

2011-10-22T22:29:00.001-04:00

I want to be the perfect parent. I want to never mess up or lose my patience or unfairly access a situation. I want to always be attentive and present, to look into their eyes and see them. I want to perfectly point them to the truth, to discipline consistently and lovingly. But the problem is, I am not perfect. From the moment I became a mom, I've been plagued by guilt about all my imperfections. It's been ridiculous. I've been getting better about it.

No one will ever know me better than my kids and my husband. They see me at my best, and definitely at my worst. They see me when I'm tired. And when I'm irrational. And irritable. And stressed out.

It's hard to admit you're wrong. To say you messed up. It's easier to blame the other person. Even when the other person is your kid. Lately I've been thinking about what a gift it is to both parties when I admit my sin and ask for forgiveness. What better way to teach my kids the gospel than to admit my daily need for it?

One day this week, I yelled at Matthew as I was frazzled dealing with another situation. Then I looked at his face and saw the hurt. It would have been easier to brush it aside and move on. That's what I probably would usually do. But this time I stopped and got down next to him and told him that I was wrong and that I was sorry. He hugged me close against his warm little cheek and said fiercely, "Thank you, Mom. I love you."

He received the gift of an apology. I received the gift of forgiveness. We both received the gift of love and intimacy in that moment. I tend to brace myself against true intimacy with others, with a safe little wall of fineness. I think God is using my kids to sneak in under the cracks and teach me what it really means.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 21}: Paint a new portrait of youth

2011-10-21T22:57:00.002-04:00

Today was my son Matthew's sixth birthday. I love that sweet boy and am so glad to be his mom. He brings us so much joy and laughter and sweetness. When he was just a few months old, as part of a dedication ceremony, my husband and I wrote out our prayer for his life. One particular part of it I find myself praying often. "Let him not rebel against you, but follow you whole-heartedly all the days of his life."

Our world as a lot to say about youth. Angst and rebellion are usually foregone conclusions, almost a celebrated part of life. People in grocery stories are like clockwork in their comments about my cute boys. It's like a memorized script. "Enjoy them now, because you won't when they're teenagers!" Cackle, cackle. (This is one of those moments when I silently pray that prayer, that through grace my boys will not follow the pattern.)

Call me naive -- my oldest just turned six after all -- but I think there is another portrait to paint for our kids. A much better alternative.

Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity.
I Timothy 4:12

Talk about young men like David, like Daniel, like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednago. They changed their world, not because they were amazing, but because they knew who their God was and lived for the renown of his great, amazing name. That's the portrait of youth I want my boys to know.

Living for God's kingdom and his glory isn't something we switch on in our twenties. It can start at six. It can endure our teens. In fact, a teenager who knows who God is, is a powerful thing. They can change their friends. They can motivate those of us in our thirties who've gotten lazy, or forgotten, or gotten distracted. Those years don't have to be wasted.

Thankfully teenage rebellion isn't always the end of the story. But I do pray that we inspire our boys to know the joy of living for what really matters. And that everything else is just a broken cistern that won't hold water. I pray that the lure of teenage discontent -- and any other lure of this world -- is no lure at all.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 20}: Find a way to let it out

2011-10-20T23:03:00.003-04:00

I'm no expert in early childhood development, but I firmly believe that there is a lot more going on in a child's brain than they can typically communicate at a young age. Often they are limited by their verbal or motor skills. If you can find a way around those limitations and allow them the joy of sharing what's going on in there, you'll have an excited and inspired child. Hopefully one that catches the joy of learning early on.

When Matthew was three, foam letters revealed that he could spell phonetically, though he could barely write yet. Before his handwriting could keep up, he could compose a story in his head. By stapling some blank paper into a low-tech book and acting as the transcriptionist, we've gotten to hear those stories. The iPad's touch screen allowed his artistic talents to go beyond his fine motor skills this year. Once he saw the detail he could create with his fingertips, his real-life marker drawing skills exploded.

At two, Nolan's verbal skills have kept him from expressing what he's been learning and thinking. We've done lots of seek and find to allow him to express what he knows. At first, I had no idea if he would respond. But I asked the questions anyway, "Do you see a king penguin anywhere on this page?" "Can you find an N?" "Where is the bald eagle?" Each time is eyes intently scanned the page until he found the target. I love the look on his face when he finds something, his smile so big, his eyes shining with pride. It reminds and motivates me not to baby him just because he's in an adorable baby talk stage. I can keep feeding him more information because he loves to learn! Now that his speech is starting to blossom, it's so fun to hear him share what he's been thinking and learning all along.

Painting and collages are two great ways to help little hands express their ideas before their fine motor skills cooperate.

I love that look of bliss that kids get when they get the opportunity to express themselves. I'm sure there are many examples of ways to get around limitations to tap into your child's brain and interests at an early age. I'd love to hear from you guys...

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 19}: What the mess means...

2011-10-19T23:05:00.001-04:00

Sometimes their expectations haunt my house. I see the mess around me and instead of feeling joy, I feel guilt. Guilty for not being able to do it all. For not being perfect. When other people’s words infiltrate my thoughts, I grumble about the toys and papers and blankets and pillows that fill our floor. I resent the mess; daily tasks seem insurmountable. My voice bites. I’m harsher than I mean to be. I lecture about responsibility. I forget.

I forget that the mess is evidence.

Evidence of creativity. Evidence of happy days. Of play. Evidence of a brain in motion. Evidence of what I love most in this world.

The mess is evidence that two wonderful, amazing boys are growing up under my roof. If I want to inspire them, and not resent them, I need to remember that.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 18}: Some days...

2011-10-18T23:53:00.009-04:00

when you are all sick, the best you can do is take care of yourself and your kiddos. Everything else has to go on the back burner. Some days aren't about inspiration; some days are about just making it through and appreciating the ones you love. And that's okay.

Today is one of those days.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 17}: Just Say No to Micromanagement

2011-10-17T16:28:00.012-04:00

He slathered the glue stick across the construction paper the same way he applies chapstick, thick and messy. I opened my mouth in protest and ask him what he was making. Until I looked closer. Concentration furrowed his little brow. It was clear that my two-year-old had a plan. So I closed my mouth and my questions to watch the show.

After slopping down lots of glue in three long strips of varying lengths, he looked up and told me what he needed. "Need eyes," he said, pointing to a drawer.

I'm usually kind of stingy with our googley eyes, but I was curious to see where he was headed with this. His little fingers carefully placed the first two eyes. Then he told me he needed more, "Green ones."

The instructions kept coming as he created his vision. Big ones, little ones, yellow ones, blue ones. He knew exactly what he wanted and where it should go. When he finished, he sat back in his seat with the satisfied smile of an artist.

I often find him standing in front of the refrigerator, admiring his creation.

Nolan's orange eyeballed masterpiece is my favorite piece of artwork in the house right now. It reminds me not to micromanage. It reminds me that the inspirational art director allows her people to shine and do their best work not by intervening and asking too many questions, but by creating a conducive environment and then letting them go to town.

If you haven't seen this video, it's worth a watch. I could watch this girl paint forever. She makes me wonder what my boys would create given the space and the supplies. Kids are such wonderful artists.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 16}: While the window is open...

2011-10-16T16:16:00.003-04:00

The downside of being spontaneous and artistic is that I don’t often plan ahead. Read:: I’m a horrible procrastinator. When my oldest was two, he loved trains. I meant to take him the Henry Ford museum, Greenfield Village and A Day Out with Thomas. I meant to, but for a million reasons it never happened.

Eventually I heard, “I’m not that into trains anymore, Mom.”

Oh.

I sighed. I knew I had missed something important. Procrastination cost me the window. The moment to capitalize on his passion had passed. I vowed to be more intentional.

The window is small. I know that now. The procrastinator in me wants to wait until its convenient. The realist in me admits that it never will be. Thankfully the procrastinator and the realist do not have the last say. Joy propels me through the window. That’s why yesterday we packed into the car to spend the morning with creepy flying rodents. I want to show my boy that his curiosity and his passion – they matter. Interests are worth exploring. Questions are worth asking. Dreams are worth dreaming. As long as the window is open, we will find new ways to exhaust the view.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 15}: All Aboard the Curiosity Train

2011-10-15T00:05:00.009-04:00

One night this July a bat found its way into our family room. Circling our ceiling fan like a maniac, the poor thing couldn't seem to find it's way out. After a hilarious two hour drama, most of which I watched from our front porch like the wimpy girl I am, the bat was finally back where it belongs, outside. I owe a big thanks to the bat removal duo of my husband and dad.

That night Matthew fell in love with our little visitor and his curiosity train pulled into bat station. I fully believe that hopping on and adding fuel to the firebox is the best way to inspire a child to love learning. This particular train has taken us on quite a ride since July.

{Some of our favorite bat books}

Stop One: The library. We fueled up with Stellaluna (the obvious choice), Bats Love the Night (highly recommend), and a few other informational books about bats.

Stop Two: The library again for Bat Night. The library sponsored a free evening lecture from the Cranbrook Bat Zone. In a tiny room with thirty other families we met bats, an owl and a flying squirrel up close and personal. In one delusional moment I may have uttered the word cute in reference to a certain flying nocturnal creature. Because the boys were so interested after the session, Jennifer (our really awesome presenter) introduced us to Boomerang the fruit bat, gave both boys a Boomerang bat pin and free tickets to Cranbrook's Institute of Science.

{I love his delighted face. He's holding a bat flag that he made to wave in excitement.}

Stop Three: Cranbrook Bat Zone. Weeks later our whole family drove out to the Science Center one Saturday afternoon to check out their collection of bats in more detail. Matthew, decked out with his bat-pinned jean jacket, was thoroughly geeked to have his dad there with him. During our tour we learned that Janell Cannon actually visited Cranbrook repeatedly and fashioned Stellaluna after one of their fruit bats. I then realized that when Jennifer showed us Boomerang during our library show and said he was Stellaluna, she meant it literally. For me, that was such a cool tidbit of information.

Stop Four: Bat crafts. Everyone in the family made their own construction paper bats, which are now hanging ominously from the boys' bedroom ceiling. Bob, my husband, made his look like the Batman logo, which thrilled Nolan to no end.

Stop Five: Bat sighting at the park. Normally I would have freaked out to see a bat fluttering above our heads in the moonlit sky. This week it felt like a beautiful gift to a sweet boy. I might have even waved at the bat like he was a good friend.

Stop Six: This morning we plan to hit up another library for another lecture. Have I mentioned how much I love the library? Another free learning moment is going to make my kids' weekend. And this time it will be shared with our best friends.

Stop Seven: Halloween. Somehow this is going to involve a garbage bag and hopefully a miracle, because Matthew is going to be a bat this year. Wish me luck.

So that's pretty much how we roll around here. The curiosity train leads us lots of unexpected places. I purposely hop on and do all I can to fuel the current passion. What better moment to learn than at the height of a child's own interest. And even when it's a subject that previously freaked me out, by the end of the ride, I've usually almost fallen in love myself. Here's to hoping that neither of my boys take a liking to spiders.

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Where has the curiosity train taken you lately? Please leave a comment, I'd love to hear!

Thank you so much for checking out this series. Click {here} to read it from the beginning. I would be honored if you decided to follow my blog, or subscribe by email above. Also, don't miss out, there are 700+ bloggers writing about a topic they are passionate about this month...click {here} to jump in on the fun.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day 14}: Fall in love with the library together!

2011-10-14T00:05:00.003-04:00

When Matthew, my oldest, was not quite two I realized that our reading habit was getting out of control. As I fell more and more in love with children's books, I needed a plan. The library was the obvious solution, but, as lover of bookstores with a grudge against libraries, at first I resisted. When I was a child we were constantly shuffling our cards around to use the one with the least amount of fines. I felt a bit like a criminal. Like there might be a most wanted poster up with my photo. And the quiet, don't get me started on that. I got so many stern librarian stares during my college years. I'm not the type who thrives in silence.

But, thankfully, the story doesn't end there. This literary criminal has been reformed and rehabilitated.

The activity room at our favorite library.

I decided to get over my hang-ups and give the library the old college try. A sincere one. To my surprise, the library and I quickly became buddies. Things have changed since I was a kid.

Awesome self check-outs. Drive-thru drop boxes. Credit card scanners. Online renewals and even reminder emails! And the children's sections are actually conducive to kids being kids.

Who knew that the library was actually fun???

With our tight financial situation the past couple years, I've learned to rely on the library more and more. In fact, it's one of our favorite field trips. And not just for books. There are endless opportunities for inspiration, learning and fun. Puzzles. Computer stations. Puppets. Toys. Train tables. Weekly reading groups. Seasonal crafts. Special evening events. Even resident pets.

Nolan loves the learning games at the computer stations.

Another fun spin on library usage -- check out the variety of libraries in your local area. Or even take a little road trip to one further away. Each has its own personality. Each are a world unto themselves. And each of them have a fabulous common denominator. They are free. Sometimes it blows my mind. It all seems far too wonderful to be free.

It's like shopping, without the pain. We usually come home with a laundry basket full of loot. Books, puppets, DVDs, and CDs for the kids. A few novels to last me through the week. The next episode of Alias for my husband and me. And, if I'm feeling especially self-indulgent, a pile of guilt-free design magazines for me to flip through in my spare time.

Not only is it a great resource for endless material, the library is a place that just begs to be explored. It champions life-long learning and cheers on childhood curiosity. My kids beg me to take them there, even if it's our third time that week. So, I say, live it up -- go and go often.

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My new friend Michele at The Great Read is doing a 31 Days series entitled 31 Days of Library Living. Check out her blog {here}. She's gives my library love a run for its money. Which is one of the reasons why she's my new friend in blogland.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day Thirteen}: Read Together

2011-10-13T00:05:00.003-04:00

“I cannot remember the books I've read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.”

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Families full of readers fascinate me. I study them, intrigued. I want to know their secret. Three children who love books cannot be an accident.

Even though they are old enough to read to themselves, my friend Jay reads aloud to his kids. All of them are voracious readers, and quite good writers as well. Outside of a classroom, I didn’t know adults did this. Read aloud to kids who could read. I made a mental note to remember this.

Reading is one of the gifts I want to give my children. A love of the written word. A taste for all that can be learned in their pages. The joy of a good story. Worlds explored. Empathy gained. Kindred souls discovered.

And so, around here, we read.

It started when they were babies. I remember the quiet darkness of my baby’s room as I read Twas The Night Before Christmas in hushed tones to my sleeping two-month-old, feeling slightly foolish yet knowing it was the beginning of something good.

Our bookshelves and tabletops are overflowing with well-loved, as well as happily borrowed, books. We inhale them daily. We laugh. We learn. We discover. We even make our own.

Sometimes it seems too simple, that it can be that easy to inspire a child. And, for this booklover, perhaps a bit too fun.

"There are many little ways to enlarge your child's world. Love of books is best of all."

-- Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis

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If you love the power of reading or are interested in being inspired to read to your children, I highly recommend A Reading Promise: My Father and the Books We shared by Alice Ozma. The book details a read-aloud reading streak between a librarian father and his daughter Alice, a streak that doesn't end until one poignant day when she leaves for college. I can't do it justice in a little blurb; it's beautiful, triumphant and made me laugh and cry repeatedly. It's one of my recent favorites. Her book made me cry, but Alice's blog makes me smile -- check it out {here}.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day Twelve}: Say Yes to Art!

2011-10-12T00:05:00.001-04:00

Just like it’s easy to say no to adventure, it’s so easy to say no to art. Art can be messy. And sticky. And, let’s face it, a lot of trouble. Early on I found myself falling into the “no” trap. Art is never convenient. One day I decided to change that.

First, I made it easy for myself to say yes. I chose a handful of art that was simple, self-directed, and not very messy. I keep those supplies fully-stocked and within my kids’ reach. In fact, they don’t even have to ask. The official answer is always YES.

Our kitchen buffet is stocked with drawing paper, construction paper, washable markers, crayons, glue, tape and scissors. They are our daily essentials. My oldest typically draws or creates for hours each afternoon. And he is free to do it, without asking, at his own artistic whim. Since implementing this system, my art lover has turned into a full-fledged art fanatic. Most mornings he wakes up driven and inspired to create. I love it.

Other types of art are a "usually yes" in our house, but require my permission. I used to dread paint time. Until I chucked the poster paints for washable watercolors. Watercolors are my friend. Now we paint daily. Sometimes we’re even crazy enough to do it 2-3 times in one day. “Paint, Mumma?” is one of Nolan’s (my almost three-year-old) most commonly uttered phrases. It feels so good to answer yes, and not dread the event. All you need are bowls of water, brushes, paper and the plastic paint tray. You don’t even have to worry about their clothes. Totally washable. Their paintings astound me. The clean-up takes two minutes. Everyone is happy.

When you say yes to art, art becomes second nature, a wonderful extension of daily life.

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Do you find it difficult to say yes to art? Or is it easy? Do you have any tricks you use to make art a daily part of your child’s life? I'd love to hear them!

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day Eleven}: Say Yes to Adventure

2011-10-11T00:05:00.002-04:00

It’s so easy to say no. It’s safe, comfortable and risk-free. No is my natural impulse when it comes to adventure, but I vowed long ago to say yes anyway. As often as I can. A lot more than I say no. No is automatic; yes is a choice.

Boys love adventure. Tonight they wanted to go to the park. Right at dinnertime. I paused, about to say no.

“What would we do about dinner?” I asked.

“Louie’s!” was my five-year-old's immediate response.

I smiled at his enthusiasm and said yes to pizza at the park. Why not? I quickly placed the order, threw paper plates, napkins, water bottles and some stale bread in a bag and we headed out on our spur-of-the-moment adventure.

My step felt lighter immediately. Windows down, on our way, with sunlight streaming through the changing trees, I felt alive and relaxed.

I found myself humming tonight’s gonna be a good night.

We found a picnic table by a pond and watched ducks and geese fight while we ate. There’s something so idyllic about spontaneous pizza by the water.

Barely able to finish eating, the boys were going nuts with excitement, chasing a squirrel with a mouthful of acorn, giggling at the funny ducks, hopping on rocks. We doled out our stale bread, along with Doritos crumbs, to a huge group of ducks and a few aggressive geese. The bread ran out before anyone was ready for it too.

We were about to head to the playground when Matthew remembered a vintage train displayed down the road. He begged to walk there, citing the virtues of a nice walk. And so we did.

The sunlight was fading fast. The playground was still calling. We meandered over to squeeze a few more moments out of our day. After climbing and sliding and obstacle-coursing, with the moon and streetlamps as our only lights, we finally drifted back toward the car.

“Look!” Matthew shouted, pointing into the sky, “A bat!”

It fluttered crazily above our heads, a translucent silhouette in the moonlit sky. My bat-lover boy declared, “This is the best night ever, Mom!”

And, you know what? It truly was.

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What was your latest adventure? Didn't it feel so good to say yes?

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day Ten}: More Than Anything

2011-10-10T00:05:00.001-04:00

I want a lot of things for my kids. I've been talking about some of them for the past ten days. But I hope they always know --more than anything-- I want them to know Jesus and to live all their days for the praise of his great name. If not for that, none of the rest matters.

(Subscribers: There is a video imbedded. You may need to go to the site to view it.)

To lead them there, I can't fake it. It's got to be real for me. I want us to sing this together, at the top of our lungs, and mean every word.

Redeemer, My Healer,

Lord Almighty,

My Savior, Defender

You are my King!

To check out the rest of the 31 Days to Inspire a Child, click {here}. Or Click {here} to read Day Eleven: Say Yes to Adventure. Over 700 bloggers are taking part in the 31 Days challenge. Hop down the rabbit hole of endless awesome 31 Day topics {here}. It's a fun world down there.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day Nine}: Dedication

2011-10-09T00:05:00.001-04:00

{book credit}

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day Eight}: Working Around Your Weaknesses

2011-10-08T00:05:00.004-04:00

I don’t want to be the kind of mom who’s in the room, but isn’t really there at all. So I have to work within the confines of my weaknesses. For me, having any outside thought or project beyond my kids and our house is a bit like opening Pandora’s box. Once my creative juices get started they grows exponentially until they take over every spare inch of my brain. Unfortunately, I’m an all or nothing kind of girl. Before I had kids, it wasn’t an issue; my crazy, all-consuming focus was a bonus. But, as a work-from-home mom, it’s my biggest weakness.

In the summer of 2008, when Matthew was still a two-and-a-half-year-old Only Child and Nolan was a little Bun in the Oven, it looked like this: I was working my butt off to finish the illustrations for a book before I had my baby that December. Under huge amounts of pressure and not enough time, during the day I couldn’t concentrate on Matthew. I found myself wandering to my computer as if drawn by magnetic force. Because I didn’t want to squander away our last days before the baby was born, I found a way to work around my one-track-self. What worked for me: getting OUT OF THE HOUSE, where I was free from magnetic force fields of my computer.

We became zoo-oholics that summer.

At the zoo, with our faces pressed together observing God’s amazing creation, work did not exist. It was just my precious boy and me, cheek to cheek or hand in hand, soaking up the joy of being together.

As soon as he crashed for his three-hour after-the-zoo nap, I rushed to the basement and worked like a crazy person. In the evenings, I did the same. And it worked for us. When I look back on that summer, I smile. We made it work. Those summer days, free from distraction, full of connection, are some of my favorite memories.

As the volume of my freelance projects has picked up again lately, the problem has resurfaced. Trying to shove my all-encompassing-work-brain temporarily back into the box so I can give the best of me to my boys is a daily struggle. A really tough one. If only the box had a better lock. Until then, I fight to work around my non-multitasking weak spot and connect. I'm still struggling to figure it out.

That means some days are complete flops as I zone out in my creative mind.

That means lots of field trips to the library. Lots unnecessary trips to Target for popcorn and window shopping. It's why sometimes we're mall rats at our local outside mall.

That means lots of walks to the park to play in the sandbox.

Lots of, “Hey, let’s build something together.”

“Wanna get out the watercolors?”

“Let’s read some books!”

They don’t know it, but that’s me, working with what I’ve got, desperately trying to be there to love and inspire.

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Click {here} to read Day Nine: Dedication.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day Seven}: Don't Tell Them about the Ceilings.

2011-10-06T16:45:00.017-04:00

I’m a dreamer. I always have been. For as long as I can remember I've boxed my dreams in. I make imaginary rules. At sixteen, I told myself I could think about writing a novel in my fifties. I could accomplish things of a normal nature, nothing too big. Nothing too crazy. Crazy big is for other people. Maybe dreams felt safer that way, knowing they were just for fun and would never materialize.

Matthew, my five-year old, is a dreamer. But, unlike me, he is also a doer. Lately I've been constructing invisible walls and ceilings around him, just like I do to myself.

When he worked for hours on game levels to submit to his favorite iPad app’s “Puzzle of the Day” contest, I hoisted up the roof, saying cautionary things about age limits and waiting until he’s older. Thankfully, Matthew is very persistent when he has a vision and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Just to humor him, I scanned his designs and submitted them to the contest.

That very night I got an email from the software company. I clicked on it to read the standard rejection letter. Only it wasn’t a rejection.

You know what? It started out with the word congratulations.

Talk about humble pie. The only ceiling between my son and his dream was the imaginary one I put there. He just needed me to get out of the way.

Since then, another of his designs won the honor of Puzzle of the Day and was selected to be part of a game level pack.

He told me he was going to start his own game design company someday. I opened my mouth to tell him what a great idea that would be…once he finished college, had venture capital, and a bunch of other stipulations and warnings. Lots of walls and ceilings I felt I should dutifully inform him of as his parent. Then thoughts of random success stories floated through my mind, a teenager who wrote some world-changing app, another who sold his idea for millions. I smiled at my boy. Who am I to define the existence and location of his ceiling?

“You would be awesome at that, Matthew!” I said instead. “That is a great idea. What kind of games would you design?”

No walls, no ceilings, just interest and affirmation. Slowly I’m learning that being a dream-builder isn’t about building boundaries – it’s about seeing beyond them. They probably only exist in my own mind anyway.

I wrote this post two weeks ago, preparing for this series. In light of the passing of Steve Jobs, it seems especially appropriate today. Some people see ceilings. People who change the world only see open sky.

“We went to Hewlett-Packard, and they said, ‘Hey, we don’t need you. You haven’t got through college yet.”

– Steve Jobs, 1955-2011.

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Click {here} to read the rest of the 31 Days to Inspire a Child series. Click {here} to read Day Eight: Work Around Your Weaknesses. Or, I'd love it if you'd subscribe or follow me, to automatically receive updates.

31 Days to Inspire a Child {Day Six}: Put the tools in their hands

2011-10-06T00:05:00.006-04:00

He had begged to use them for months. Artfully displayed in a silver bowl, out of reach, they represented something to him. Using my architectural markers meant being the real deal. And that’s what he wanted to be, a real artist.

I'm not sure what made me reach above my head to grab the bowl from the top of the fridge that day. As I handed him the platter, I was aware that I was handing him more.

Belief was transferred into his eager artistic fingers. With belief came responsibility to care for them and treat them well. I handed over inspiration, capped with glee.

When I put the tools in his hands, I validated his fondest dream. Sure, I handed him a bowl of non-washable, pricey tubes of permanent pigment. It was a bit crazy; he was only five. It's been about 300 days and I've never been sorry. In fact, I feel the same thrill every time I watch him create something beautiful with them.

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Is there something your child has been waiting to be placed into his care? I still remember when my mom passed down her Anne of Green Gables collection to me and the moment my dad gave me his architectural templates. The day my uncle let us build with real scrap lumber, my cousins and I felt like we had hit the jackpot. My husband passed down his childhood baseball bat to our eager baseball-fan-son. His grandpa bought Matthew a real golf club and taught him his swing. What may seem trivial means so much. Can you think of a big tool to place in their little hands, like the sword being bestowed upon Arthur?

Click {here} to read the rest of the series.

Click {here} to read Day Seven: Don't Tell Them About the Ceilings.

{Day Five}: remember they are a person

2011-10-05T00:22:00.009-04:00

I have a memory that plays curiously often in my internal cinema. I’ve always thought it was strangely random. But I feel happy every time it scrolls through.

It was an ordinary summer day between elementary school and middle school. My aunt took us to the beach with our three cousins. While the younger kids gloried in the sand and water, my aunt and I stayed on the beach blanket, talking.

She laughed and retold me all her favorite parts of that morning's Regis and Kathy Lee . My memory didn’t preserve any more detail than that. Just chatting at the beach with my aunt, while she laughed and talked to me like a friend. I didn’t feel like a kid -- like something less-than. I felt like a person. And it felt so nice that I’ve remembered it for twenty-five years.

My dad says it this way, “Treat everyone like they have already arrived, because they think they have.” My five-year-old doesn’t consider himself just a kid; he is just himself, the Matthew he always will be. He is a person with hopes, dreams, struggles and fears. A person whom God is shaping, just like he is me. When I connect with my child like that, I change his world.

Do you have any random childhood memories like that, of when someone made you feel special?

Click {here} to read Day Six: Put the Tools in their Hands, or

Click {here} to read the rest of the 31 Days to Inspire a Child series...

Or Subscribe or Follow Me to automatically receive updates.

Day Four: how to let an idea soar

2011-10-04T00:05:00.005-04:00

"If at first, the idea is not absurd, then there is no hope for it."

~Albert Einstein

He has an idea. It glows inside him. He’s afraid to whisper it, but he can’t keep it in. Tentatively he pushes his breath past his lips, watching a dream bubble form. Flimsy. Fragile. Iridescent.

He holds it up, smiling. Admiring what it looks like on the outside, how it glimmers in the light, his face is radiant. His eyes meet mine, looking for approval.

This moment is critical. One breath of well-intentioned criticism will burst this fragile gem. One whoosh of doubt will blow it away. It’s easy to be a dream-killer.

I lower myself to my knees to get a better look. I let him tell me all about it. I enjoy his creativity and remember that brilliance is born out of the flimsy and absurd.

Together we admire its beauty as the bubble floats high above us.

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Click {here} to read Day Five: Remember They are a Person.

Day Three: Where the Magic Happens

2011-10-03T06:00:00.006-04:00

I see it every day. Parents hustling their children along, on a mission, when a child stops, intrigued by something of interest. The parent usually stops, irritated, and snaps something about hurrying up and not having time for that. And my heart frowns. I wonder, how many times this scenario will play out before the child no longer stops, no longer pauses in curiosity at the world around him?

I cringe because I do it too sometimes. This is what we turn into as adults. Rushers, zooming from point A to point B with no time for the in-between. We forget something vital that they have yet to unlearn: the in-between is where the magic happens.

My boys have to teach me this over and over again. For both our sakes, I need to let them teach me this. To stop and pause, to make time for the wonder.

One rainy, crabby day, when my oldest was two, we were at the library together. I was on a mission to retrieve a specific book. Object found, I headed for the parking garage. Matthew had other ideas. He paused in the glass atrium, looking out into the distance.

The rain was just letting up and the fountain at the center of our City Plaza spurted up like a beacon in the mist. “Let’s go there, Mommy!” he begged.

He was insistent, so we did.

The sun was peeking through the clouds. And the fountains were dancing. Matthew ran toward the spouts with glee and was immediately greeted with a surge of water, soaking him. His laughter was contagious.

He climbed up the amphitheater steps and sat down.

"It's a big water show, Mommy!"

And it was. Classical symphonies were playing and the water pulsed and jumped in response.

Matthew declared his love for each instrument and tried to name them as he heard them. Cymbals. Drums. Violins.

We sat on those wet concrete steps in our own jubilant world, with five o'clock hustle-and-bustle rush hour all around us. It wasn’t point A or point B – it was, instead, the place where the magic happens, where curiosity is rewarded, and a moment is captured instead of rushed away.

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What are your favorite moments of magic and wonder? I'd love to hear them...

Click {here} to read Day Four: How to Let an Idea Soar

Day Two : The Value of Pushing Limits {31 Days to Inspire a Child}

2011-10-02T06:00:00.009-04:00

It’s too high for him, but I don’t tell him that. He has that look in his eye. The gleam. I push aside my nerves because this will be worth it. I force myself to stand nearby, hand up, his spotter, proud smile breaking my face. Gentle instructions lead him to the next rung. He giggles pure joy with every strain of his little body as he reaches for the next rung. He glories in the exertion. He needs a little boost to help him to the platform. He made it. He is triumphant.

Next, his favorite words:

“Did it, Momma!” he cries. “Did it!”

My smile widens in relief and pride. I am reminded again that it’s worth it to push past my own fear, to let him push. Something happens each time he climbs something bigger than his little toddler body. Something magical. My boy discovers that trying something bigger than his limits doesn’t bring failure. That kind of straining brings exhilaration. The proud glory of hard-earned growth is the prize my two-year-old wears around his neck, arms raised high.

I know in my gut it applies to so much more than playgrounds.

_______________________

What holds you back from letting them try the too big?

Click {here} to read Day Three: Where the Magic Happens

Day One: The Gift I Want to Give

2011-10-01T00:00:00.005-04:00

Though it was fifteen years ago, it seems like yesterday. I can still see his words written boldly across the bottom of the page.

EXPRESS YOURSELF!

The words were the conclusion of my yearly review at a small design firm. I had just graduated from college and was working my dream job. But I was afraid. Afraid to be me. Afraid to be wrong. Afraid to be rejected. Instead of sharing myself, I was quiet, withdrawn, and safe.

The directive to express myself was one of the best gifts I've been given in my creative life. It was not a criticism; it was an endorsement. It was the voice of someone I respected and admired saying, I see you and who you are is worth sharing. Express yourself and I will listen.

This supervisor later went on to start his own architectural design firm with the tagline, to inspire and be inspired. It’s how he lives. It pours out of him. A true mentor, friend, artist, and champion of dreams.

He gave a timid girl the affirmation she needed to keep going in the intimidating world of design. He inspired by loving to create and creating what he loved. He inspired by using the word we, when everyone else smugly said me.

This is the gift I want to give my children. To say with my actions, I see you. I like you. I love how you think. And who you are is worth sharing with the world. Express yourself - I will listen.

Click {here} to read Day Two: The Value of Pushing Limits

31 Days to Inspire a Child - An Introduction

2011-09-30T08:00:00.031-04:00

Click each title below to read that day's post.

Or subscribe above to automatically receive each post by email.

Day One: The Gift I Want to Give.

Day Two: The Value of Pushing Limits

Day Three: Where the Magic Happens

Day Four: How to Let an Idea Soar

Day Five: Remember They are a Person

Day Six: Put the Tools in their Hands

Day Seven: Don't Tell Them about the Ceilings

Day Eight: Work Around Your Weaknesses

Day Nine: Dedication

Day Ten: More Than Anything

Day Eleven: Say Yes to Adventure

Day Twelve: Say Yes to Art!

Day Thirteen: Read Together

Day Fourteen: Fall in Love with the Library Together

Day Fifteen: All Aboard the Curiosity Train

Day Sixteen: While the window is open...

Day Seventeen: Just Say No to Micromanagement

Day Eighteen: Some Days...

Day Nineteen: What the Mess Means...

Day Twenty: Find a Way

Day 21: Paint a new portrait of youth

Day 22: the gift of an apology

Day 23: flip your perspective

Day 24: another brick in the wall

Day 25: say yes to questions
Day 26: mixed media magic
Day 27: project inspiration
Day 28: share your passion
Day 29: why i cried at vbs
Day 30: toys that inspire
Day 31: for the long haul

An introduction

Warning: this series will not simplify your life, help you keep your house clean, or save dinner. But I hope you keep reading anyway.

Sometimes I beat myself up because raw meat grosses me out and my to-do list (when I have one) is scribbled in crayon on a scrap piece of construction paper. I'm trying to learn to just appreciate how God made me. As an artist, designer and mom-of-young-children, I have a passion for inspiring the creativity of a child. Hardly anything makes me more excited.

Once upon a time I was an architectural designer who claimed that I wasn't a kid person. Then, one fine October day, my firstborn baby proved me wrong. That was six years ago and that moment changed everything. These days I'm a children's book illustrator. Nothing fires me up like inspiring a child, especially my own awesome boys (almost 3 and almost 6). I hope you'll join me this month as I share one of my greatest passions.

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Put on your seatbelts and reading glasses and check out the 8 original 31 Day bloggers too. Have fun traveling down the 31 Days rabbit hole. I can't wait to jump into the madness. If you want somewhere to start, the dreamer in me is a sucker for Emily; I'm completely looking forward to her 31 Days to Change the World.

I'm training, (and working on my British accent).

2011-09-27T11:19:00.002-04:00

You know you’ve been reading too much Sophie Kinsella when your brain starts manufacturing a hilarious internal dialogue that says things like, I am training for a marathon and I feel fabulous. I feel thinner and stronger already, just knowing that I am training. Only real athletes train. Of course, I know it’s only a 5K and I’ve only just completed the Week 1, Day 1. But still. I am becoming a r-u-n-n-e-r.

Let the juggling begin...

2011-09-25T18:30:00.003-04:00

I’m an all or nothing kind of girl. I can usually only focus on one passion or goal at a time. I manically spin some plates over here for a few days, then run over and start spinning another stack, hoping nothing comes crashing down as I ignore it for a few days. Or weeks.

This week I’m feeling ambitious. Or crazy. This one time I’ll give you permission to be the judge.

I’ve been doing a great job keeping the house in order this week, because I was stuck home with sick kids, and had been recently motivated by a talk at a MOMS thing at church. (Thanks, Stephanie!)

This week I’m going to try to keep that plate spinning while adding in the start of a Couch-to-5K program and completing 13 architectural illustrations.

What do you think? Can I do it?

Ready, set, go!

(If you hear a loud crash, don’t be alarmed).

31 Days

2011-09-23T11:01:00.006-04:00

It's no secret that Autumn is my favorite season. This year I've found another reason to love it. Through the month of October I will be participating in the 31 Days blog series. Bloggers from across the country will be writing about things like... 31 Days to Simplify Your Life, 31 Days to a Less Messy Nest and 31 Days to Save Dinner.

Be forewarned: my series has nothing to do with dinner or calendars or a clean house.

I will never be an organizational genius (schedules make me break out in hives) or a domestic superwoman (rumor has it that I once subsisted for over a year eating only food purchased at 7-Eleven), but I am thoroughly excited about my 31 Days topic. I can't stand the sight of raw meat and to-do lists, but as an artist, designer and mom-of-young-children, I do have a passion for inspiring the creativity of a child. Hardly anything makes me more excited.

I hope you'll join me in October as I share one of my passions. Maybe you'll think about sharing yours...

Volatile, in a good way

2011-08-12T23:36:00.001-04:00

Moments ago I found this definition of the word manic:

man-ic / 'manik / Adjective

1. Showing wild and apparently deranged excitement and energy: "manic enthusiasm".

2. Frenetically busy; frantic.

I laughed. Maniacally.

Because that's what happens to me when I get to indulge in a little creativity. It comes bursting forth like a tidal wave, pouring out my fingers and exploding in my head like a volcano. Though it sounds scary, it's wonderful really.

Brushing up on some illustration techniques and styles in preparation for a potential new project was the trigger this time. Apparently a roll of trace and a pile of markers is a combustible combination. Ten minutes in and I wanted to write, create, sing, and if there's time, maybe change the world this evening.

If only I could bottle it.

Rumor has it...

2011-08-10T16:16:00.002-04:00

that Klinger is eBook/iBook bound...

While I am a die-hard {real} book lover, who obsesses about silly things like the wonderful, nostalgic smell of book and the glorious sound of the turning page, it still excites me to see Klinger groomed and readied to take his message to another medium. Since, it seems, I might be the only one not on the electronic wagon. And my boys will undoubtedly think it's super cool to read Klinger on their iPad. See, I am the only one...

Young Voices Award

2011-08-04T09:25:00.003-04:00

Though he didn't make it as a racehorse, Klinger is on a bit of a streak. I just heard from Betsy that Klinger, A Story of Honor and Hope was awarded a Gold Medal by the Young Voices Foundation in the category of Children's Picture Book for All Ages. I love seeing this book honored. It is very possible that I may never work on a project as fulfilling -- nor with and for more wonderful people.

i can't think of an adequate title

2011-05-25T15:35:00.007-04:00

Last year I spent Memorial Day weekend with people I will never forget. This week they are heavy on my mind and I have been praying for them a lot. The parents, spouses, siblings and children who are mourning, struggling and surviving a loss that I can only just barely imagine.

This week, let's pray for God's comfort to wrap around them like a blanket and his presence and hope to be a tangible reality in the heart of the reality they face daily.

I wish that each American could be invisibly present during the private memorial service on Sunday. Instead of picnics I wish we could hear each name spoken aloud and feel how a simple name can fill a room. I wish we could feel the fullness, and then, simultaneously, the emptiness of hundreds of names pushed out of mouths with pride and brokenness and longing.

I will be thinking about them. I will remember their names and their lives and spend time praying for the families that love them. Because it's all I can do.

a lesson in rain dancing.

2011-05-18T20:52:00.006-04:00

While I gloried in the gentle pitter-patter rhythm of the water on the deck, grateful for the break in the day's humidity, my boys' faces were plastered against the screen with thoughts of their own.

"Out, Mama?" asked Nolan in his adorable high voice.

I opened the screen, feeling indulgent and relaxed. Why not let him enjoy? Matthew eagerly followed him out.

Barefoot and smiling, they danced and stomped on the wet deck. Watching them, feeling their glee, I was glad that I said yes. Before long, Nolan had another question.

"Out, Mama?" He motioned me to join them.

I declined. He insisted. I gave in.

I stepped out hesitantly. The raindrops were cold on my arms and feet. Too cold. I wanted to stay out and dance and be silly and carefree, but instead I found myself all clenched up, saying, "I can't, guys. I'm freezing!"

"Mom..." Matthew protested, sounding exasperated, "You don't think about things like the temperature when you're dancing in the rain!"

Oh. I meekly accepted his wise lesson in rain dancing and forgot about the cold. We danced and splashed and giggled until we were all soaked through, smelling like wet dogs. And it was the kind of wonderful that I will remember for a long time.

for the love of a robot

2011-05-17T14:26:00.007-04:00

Robby would never become a robot. I still remember the overwhelming frustration that came with that realization. No matter how much detail I drew, how many cool features I included on his crayola-drawn circuit panel, or how securely I fastened it to his little back, would change that fact. Sheer will of imagination could not breathe life, or in this case electronic circuitry, into my two-year-old cousin.

This past week Matthew's game design was chosen to be the Puzzle of the Day on an iPhone app called Burn the Rope. At the age of 5, he watched his imagination become a reality as we played a level he dreamed up. Oh the joy. Circles were run. Dances were danced. There were woohoos, contagious laughs and shouts of triumph -- from each of us.

A light bulb went off in my brain, a light bulb that I'm sure had been aglow before but had burnt out long ago.

"Yes!" the light bulb exclaims, "This is why we do it!" This is why we become architects, inventors, game designers, artists, novelists and musicians. This moment. Childhood frustration is released into joy as our incessant imaginations finally produce tangible reality. I don't know which is greater, the excitement or the relief, but I do know that it is fabulous when it happens.

Somewhere along the way, in the middle of all the laundry and tugging on my sleeves, I had forgotten the sheer joy of creating. I know the pleasure of helping others create, especially my kids. I know the joy of loving my job. But the flip side of that statement is this: my art has become a job that I love. :::sigh:::

This week I was reminded that those things that live in my imagination still really want to come out. Not because it would be a good career move or provide some extra income, but simply because they are there, alive and waiting. Simply because it would be wondrous. All on its own.

Suddenly working on the novel that's been living in my brain since I was eighteen doesn't seem like a frivolous waste of time. My mind's been a busy, raucous playground for a few days; and I have a new fondness for the little girl that desperately wanted a robot.

a branch of a faithful tree

2011-04-15T20:08:00.005-04:00

Thoughts of faithfulness are swirling in my head tonight, after learning that my grandpa passed away in his sleep early this morning.

I'm thinking about what it takes to march out the kind of faithfulness that weaves a legacy, a story that will mean something to my children's children. I want the kind of faithfulness that will make it easier for them to believe. I don't want to live my life for me alone. I am in a line. There is a cloud, above, before me. There are those who will come after. There is a kingdom that is now. But even more...then -- with them.

My story will be told in the big moments, but mostly the small ones. Just like his.

Tonight I'm thinking about generations, the hundredth Psalm, and my grandpa. It will always make me think of him, and the faithfulness of our great, unchanging God. I'm grateful that my grandpa was the one to read those ancient words at my wedding. Legacy words. Kingdom words. I am so thankful for his faithful life.

I am thinking about those who have gone before me, lives lived in many small moments of long days in the blink-of-an-eye of a lifetime, whose love and faithfulness have made it easy for me to believe.

I am going to bind them around my neck tonight.

________________

{click here to read a poem he inspired in December}

she speaks

2011-03-31T21:41:00.004-04:00

When the words won’t come; when I dip my quill and find it dry and crusty; when I say it’s the busyness, but fear it’s something bigger; it’s so tempting to turn away and not look back. It’s so easy to do more laundry and tell myself that I’m not a writer after all.

I told myself it was the busyness that stole my words. The last fifty days have been filled with it. The big kind. The relocating our household for the second time in a year kind. A sleepless week with a sick toddler kind. Immediately followed by the entertaining houseguests for three weeks kind. But even in the busyness, I knew deep down that time wasn’t stealing my words.

My mind was the thief.

On overdrive with to-do lists and worries, with would-haves, should-haves and wish-I-could haves, there was no space for creative thought. My brain has been overwrought, re-crafting yesterday’s conversations with snide rebuttals and justified retorts, dwelling on frustrating and hurtful innuendo. In the midst of internal rants, raves and defenses, there was no room for new words to be born. Or nurtured. No room for them to roam and dance and settle down on the page.

I suspect my mind has stolen more than just my words this month. It has been holding hostage my joy.

Out of the wellspring of the heart the mouth speaks. When the well is dry and overtaken with the angst and wounds of yesterday, there is nothing to wet the quill today.

Thankfully, there is a well that does not run dry. A river that cannot be gunked up. A fountain that springs with life. A peace that washes out my resentful places and lets me laugh at the days to come.

In that wonderful place, I remember how nice it is to be quiet and listen. I hear his words instead of my own. Words of truth. Bigger than me words. Better words. Unshakeable words. My favorite words. They flow from my fingers onto these keys and I remember what it feels like to have something to say.

____________________

This post has been submitted to a She Speaks Scholarship opportunity. The She Speaks Conference in North Carolina is about women connecting the hearts of other women to the heart of God. I am following the nudge of an encourager to pursue my love of writing wherever God may lead me.

some other beginning's end

2011-02-08T19:40:00.003-05:00

We are t-minus 3 days and counting until the big move.

While my mind is mostly on logistics and my body is in hyper-productivity mode, there are moments that I feel sentimental. Such a short time ago I was blogging all my new loves about our new place. Now I am subconsciously aware that we are logging a week full of last times in this condo.

I didn't let myself even go there when we left the house, except the day we handed over the keys. This time I'm enjoying and trying to snap the mental pictures that I want to take with me. And it's all about my precious little boys. Their last baths here. Last tuck-ins and meals. The last time Nolie runs and giggles and hides in his closet. The last time Bob chases them all over the house and they go to their favorite spots. I wish I took more real photos. I know this place will just be a blip on our life's screen. But it's a blip that I have almost thoroughly enjoyed.

what Jesus can do with a soupcase

2011-02-07T12:19:00.006-05:00

Matthew's PreK teacher is part of a mission team that will be moving to Senegal, West Africa this year. I've known that since the first day of school. Today it brought me to tears.

Matthew and I walked into the school lobby and I immediately saw a new display on the wall. It was a huge graphic that included the word Dakar spray painted on a brick background, and photo boards detailing the three families that make up the Dakar team.

It stopped me. I couldn't walk right by it. Matthew was already tromping toward his class, loving the sound of his echoing boots on the concrete floors.

"Matthew, wait," I said.

I tried to show him Ms. Michelle and her family and tell him what they were going to be doing, but I could only cry.

I dropped Matthew off, drove home and tried to tell my husband. But I could only cry.

At lunch today, I showed Matthew the brochure about Ms. Michelle's trip and the pictures of her kids, very close to his own age. I told him why she was going there. That the people were hungry and poor and probably have never heard about the hope we have in Jesus. I asked him if he would like to help support Ms. Michelle's family every month. And maybe write her letters.

While I was trying to assess if he was getting any of what we were talking about, he said, "You know what I would do if I went to Africa?"

"What?" I asked, truly curious.

"I would bring a big lunchbox. Maybe I would bring a big soupcase filled with ONE HUNDRED lunchboxes!" (Suitcase is one of those words that I just can't bring myself to correct his pronunciation because it's just so cute).

"Who would the lunches be for?"

"Me and all those hungry kids," he told me. "And you know what?"

"What?"

"We would never run out of lunches, because," he shrugged, "God can do that."

Yesterday he learned the story of the widow who fed Elijah her last food. And though she gave him her last, she continued to have enough for herself and her son.

If I was wondering (and I was) if we would have enough to give to this family each month as I was feeling led to today, that doubt was shattered.

Today I am completely undone by what God loves to do when we hand over our little lunchbox. Or our soupcase.

To the Dakar team, I am humbled by your willingness to go and know that God will do much with it. And that he has the unlimited capacity to meet every need you will have along the way.

{Click here to read their stories and find out more about their ministry needs}

kickin' it

2011-02-06T23:41:00.004-05:00

Here's our life update, fast track style:

1. Matthew's on a solar system kick.

2. Bob and I are on an Alias kick.

3. Our whole family is on a packing kick. This Saturday we are leaving our condo and moving a few miles north, into Bob's parents' house. Pretty much every spare second (except while watching Alias) we've been stuffing things into boxes (as neatly as possible).

4. Lest Nolie feel slighted, he's on an adorable talking-and-trying-to-do-everything-and-good-thing-I'm-cute kick.

So there you have it.

a story of faithfulness: for my grandpa

2010-12-15T16:33:00.004-05:00

because of you:

your children's children

praise his name

and know all his benefits.

that he forgives all our sins.

and his love.

that his love endures

forever.

because of you:

my children's children

will praise his name

and know all his benefits.

that he forgives all our sins.

and his faithfulness.

how his faithfulness

it continues through all

all generations.

because of you:

your son's daughter

loves the 100th psalm

and rests in its promises.

because of you:

i'm gonna write a book about it

and give it to my children.

getting to tradition

2010-12-14T18:52:00.009-05:00

I've never really liked routine. The word makes me shutter with looming boredom. The designer in me likes to switch things up, make new paths and explore. This past year I've surprised myself. Tradition has been wooing me with the smiles and eager hands of my children. I find myself seeking out some simple traditions to build into the loose structure of our life.

I am not very at home in the kitchen. Raw meat is mostly to blame for that. Baking, I'm discovering, can be quite fun, especially with a certain little helper by my side.

Please offer a warm welcome to the newest member of our slowly building repertoire of family tradition, the sugar cookie. We have fallen for its simple, versatile, and carefree nature. This no-fuss tradition couldn't be any more up my non-committal alley.

It began in October when I purchased our first cookie-cutter. I tentatively pulled the orange, rubber-rimmed jack-o-lantern off the hook with a smile, knowing I was making a decision. I knew it was a beginning of something special.

For Christmas I picked out a pre-packaged assortment of holiday cutters. Yesterday was a snow day. A perfect day to keep warm inside and bake some art. While Nolan slept, Matthew and I gleefully destroyed the kitchen together.

As I cleaned up our mess, I threw all of our metal cookie-cutters into a plastic bag. I pictured it filling up with shapes and memories over time. Happiness filled the house as I realized that traditions can be less about having to and more about getting to.

Those Pixar people

2010-12-13T11:00:00.001-05:00

Those Pixar people are pretty smart.

Ever since our Toy Story 3 movie date this summer, it's been all Woody all the time around here. And all Toy Story merchandise is at the top of the boys must-have lists. Have you been to a store lately? Holy over-priced toys, Sheriff Woody!

Thanks to a Disney Store $10 pajama set sale, Matthew has been "in character" for months. But much to a young boy's chagrin, even super cool Woody PJs need to be washed now and then. And that's when we get a Toy Story break. Wait - did I say break? Nope - that's when my favorite boy Andy shows up in his borrowed cowboy hat and his love of all things cowboy.

Not sure which I love more.

i have a volcano on my stove.

2010-12-12T07:50:00.000-05:00

As of last week*, I have now been a mother for five years. That's a long time, in a lot of ways. In the kind of ways that make me feel like slowing everything down. The kind of ways that make me panic because five years have flown by like a snap of my finger. And I want to enjoy my boys forever.

At the same time, five years is such a short time and we have so many more things to experience in this life together. It's funny that before you have children, you might imagine what it will be like. But it's different than that. There are so many things that cannot be imagined. Because you don't even know that you should be conjuring up those things. You can't imagine the intensity and magnitude of the love that overwhelms you when you stare into your child's eyes; or watch them sleeping peacefully in their beds; or taking in the sheer joy of their uninhibited, contagious giggles.

All that to say: this week I have a volcano on my stove. Every time it catches my eye, I smile. And I think: {I have a volcano on my stove}. Which is like simultaneously thinking: {I have a five-year-old boy in my house}. And I marvel at the unexpectedness of these facts.

*I wrote this post back in October. I never published it. Tonight it made me smile. Our volcano has since erupted several times. Because Matthew has declared that he's keeping it f o r e v e r, this post is still almost as true as the day I wrote it -- I now have a volcano sitting next to my stove and I still love the reason it's taking up space.

what to do when nostalgia beats down your door

2010-12-10T14:22:00.003-05:00

I promise that I'll write a regular post here soon, but until then, I just posted {here} about nostalgia and art and how much I love the internet.

It's that day again...

2010-12-06T15:30:00.002-05:00

Today I was excited that it was Monday. I had these volcano paintings that I couldn't wait to show you.

{Click to head on over to Masterpiece Monday}

Masterpiece Monday

2010-11-29T20:07:00.003-05:00

I'm really excited. I just started a blog carnival on my children's book blog. I hope you all will feel inspired to participate. Every Monday I will feature a masterpiece of the week by Matthew or Nolan...because isn't children's artwork so inspiring? And who has the wall space or the time to lovingly display each piece?

I'm hoping this will be great. It's free, fast, fun...and creates a wonderful catalog of their work. I know Matthew is already pumped and inspired for next week.

{Join me?}

me, the illustrator

2010-11-22T21:34:00.003-05:00

Tonight I made my first post on my {professional} blog. That word always cracks me up. I prefer to be personal. But, for privacy and marketing purposes, I've thought of separating the two for awhile. Going to the book festival last weekend gave me the motivation to finally create a blog entity for me, the illustrator.

So, without further ado: meet shelleyjohannes | illustrator - the blog.

{in my eyes}

2010-10-30T16:16:00.027-04:00

Five years ago, I learned the precious magic of a child.

They placed my firstborn son on my chest; I fell in love with his precious little mouth. Something shifted irrevocably that day.

Grace changed for me that day.

My heart opened with this thought:

{This is what it means to be someone's child. This love}.

Twice grace has introduced me to the intense love that instantaneously grips the heart of a parent.

Twice, the simple power of the word: {mine}.

Through motherhood, Grace showed me who I am:

{A precious, fiercely loved child}.

I look at them like this.

And this.

And I finally get it.

{Because you're my kid} :my dad always said.

Grace allows me to look into the eyes of my precious children

and see God's love boring into mine.

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us,

that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!"

~I John 3:1~

Grace calls me daughter; Grace says mine.

I want to teach this to my children.

_____________________________

This post is linked to Chatting at the Sky by Emily Freeman.

She is just wrapping up a series titled, 31 Days of Grace.

She's amazing; each day is a little gift to read.

you capture:: {autumn}

2010-10-28T15:02:00.005-04:00

set ablaze in the glow of autumnthese two orange and plaid playersteach me to sip up these cider days.

for more ::you capture:: and autumn glory,

visit i should be folding laundry

rediscovering the joy of good-enough

2010-10-19T10:09:00.008-04:00

If you are at all like me and tend to apologize for the not-good-enough state of your home when people come over, stop by one of my favorite blogs for some inspiration today.

{Click here}

to read the Nester's thoughts on keeping your house less-messy for the right reasons.

And perhaps even more

{please click here}

to read an equally great and convicting post about how we need to stop apologizing for the state of our homes.

My sweet Matthew turns FIVE this week. We are scrambling to pull together a small kid party for him this weekend. He is sooooooooo excited. We've never had a "kid" party before. Since reading the Nester's post this morning, I have resolved not to make one apology for the size, cleanliness or state of completion of our home this week. Because that makes it about me. And it's not about me. Or it definitely shouldn't be.

Having people over should be about the people.

The people I admire most are like this. I always feel welcome and loved in their homes. I feel relaxed, because they are. And it's not because their houses are perfect in any way; it's because they love people, and focus on them, instead of focusing on the imperfection or perceived less-than in their lives.

I'm going to work really hard to simply enjoy this week, my wonderful five-year-old, and all the wonderful people who are going to celebrate him with us. This will be a week of gratefulness.

Because this moment I have clarity that - certainly - all that God has provided for us this year is more than good-enough.

superficial things

2010-10-15T18:06:00.006-04:00

In the background my mind is filled with superficial things lately.

Like: What in the world am I supposed to wear to the award ceremony/book festival next month? I've been scouring the internet for red or blue blouses and sweaters to pair with a neutral suit. (For the neutral suit that I do not yet own. I've been searching for that too.) I made the mistake of thinking that I would be too cliche in red or blue over Memorial Day. Not so. In anything else you are the odd man out; I felt almost disrespectful in my turquoise that weekend.

My goals for this new marketing-myself outfit ask a little much of a mere clothing assemble. It has to be something with a splash of the right color of red or blue that is respectable, classic yet current, while also artistic. Oh, and ideally, it should also make me look taller and thinner. Do they make an EASY button for that?

Then, today: I'm looking at my hands thinking, "Yikes! I need a manicure before these events!" But upon further inspection, I am realistic and wonder, Who am I kidding? A manicure won't fix these mistreated, clunky, big-knuckled and hang-nailed hands. Sometimes I imagine that a little fix will do more than a little fix is capable of doing.

My mind returns often to my personal verse of the month, "Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart." At first I think:: Phew! But then I think:: Or not.

The heart, too, cannot be glossed over with a few cosmetic band-aids. This year is one of pounding in so many ways.

My thought for the evening: Thank goodness for grace. I sure need it.

________________________________________

p.s. (Don't let me fool you, it's not all angst. There is a lot of girly fun in scouring the internet for clothing. A lot.)

where I talk about shoes in allegory

2010-10-07T18:00:00.004-04:00

Today, while I was in line at the bank, I heard a woman in front of me complaining to the teller. For no particular reason. She said, "I'm the kind of person who is always waiting for the other shoe to drop." I thought, How sad.

I am not that person. For good or bad, I am the eternal optimist. The secret big-dream-dreamer. If I'm waiting for any shoe to drop, it's a great new pair falling from the sky.

Back in April, as we watched the Klinger book coming together, smiled in satisfaction at the the joining of word and image, we voiced our secret high hopes for it via telephone. We dreamed big, Betsy and I did, and dared to hope about awards for this special book.

Betsy has been busy, submitting the book to the appropriate peoples. This week she emailed me with words that made me jump up and down.

Klinger has received its first award!

It's hard to take in. This project has been such an honor to be involved with. Betsy is a blessing. Really, every person I met during this process was an inspiration. Especially all of those kids wearing their photo buttons in the elevator. They are on my mind often. As is Betsy.

Though I'm a big dreamer, rarely have any of my big dreams come to fruition. It's hard to wrap my mind around this feeling of dream meeting reality.

The award ceremony will be part of a children's book festival in Traverse City next month. I've decided that I should attend. My mind is reeling.

I was kicking myself over Memorial Day, when I found myself empty handed when several people requested a business card. So, since yesterday, I've been scrambling to whip up the perfect one for this occasion. {Suggestions, anyone?}

For the last year and a half, we've been living in this precarious place. A place where we cannot live under the false notion that we are providing for ourselves. In this place, it is clear who our provider is. Future planning is almost impossible. It's an odd position to be comfortable in. And maybe that's the point. Comfort breeds apathy; discomfort births trust. And hopefully lots of other things if we are paying attention and willing to be molded.

This place of watching God navigate surreal circumstances and jumping into them with joyful {and hopeful} anticipation is equally uncomfortable. But a little more fun.

Today I'm enjoying my new pair of shoes, while still trying to remember, new shoes or not: God is awesome, all the time. And dealer of things much bigger and better than shoes.

Random update

2010-09-30T16:10:00.003-04:00

I can't believe it's been a month since my last post. It's not that I haven't been thinking. Or doing. Or living. We have. In abundance, in fact.

~Autumn is my favorite time of year and I've been trying to soak it up. The little things. The smells. The colors. The simultaneous feeling of excitement and relaxation that autumn carries along with it.

~Matthew's back in school. So far he's digging it, like I knew he would. I love the start of the school year. I always have. Because I've always been a nerd. And he is too. When you love learning, it's hard not to like school.

~In all the in-between moments that aren't taken up by my cute boys and the daily grind, I've been drawing. Over a hundred and twenty-five hours worth of drawing, drawing, drawing this month. It feels good to have finally pushed myself and carved out the time to give this project its due. Most days, once the boys are in bed, there isn't anything left in me. Especially not creativity. But now that I'm in the home stretch, I feel like skipping around and dancing.

~My sister is coming to Michigan this weekend and staying for a couple weeks. I'm so excited. There is nothing like the friendship of a sister.

That concludes my random update.

you capture ~ outside {i am not a summergirl}

2010-08-26T20:38:00.016-04:00

these are my days

this kind that others

complain about

i want to wrap my arms around

and write

nice things about

to the sound of a guitar string

:deary and cloudy with

a peacefulness that blows

over you like calm

i can only smile

and breathe

and watch my children

in the dirt

while i wink at

my husband

as all my cares

are swept away

like the dust of this

ballfield

under my little boys

sneakers

for more {you capture} outdoor moments,

visit i should be folding laundry...

she, with the overactive imagination

2010-08-24T18:17:00.007-04:00

On a quiet, sunny morning, while meandering the paths at a local park, she is momentarily frightened by a stranger.

The stranger, who happens to be male and borderline creepy, approaches the same picturesque bridge from the opposing direction. He is the only person in sight. Instead of smiling and waving, as she normally would, she grips the stroller tighter and thinks that she has narrowly avoided certain death by being accompanied by her children.

She envisions piano wire. And the word { g o n e r } flits through her brain. She then ponders the possibility of having watched a tad too much crime show tv this month. Surely not every gangly male is a piano-wire-toting-psychopath scoping for his next victim. She vows to swear off Criminal Minds forever.

the right time to tell you

2010-08-23T11:32:00.008-04:00

Autumn

we love you

like love

and all the good things

we dream

and feel

and dream of feeling

you are approaching

the air tells me

and i smile

a smile full of wishes

and hopes that took me

by surprise

(the best kind)

cider in hand

i yearn to sip in

Your goodness

creative inspiration abounds

2010-08-17T12:51:00.003-04:00

It's easy for the designer in me to get cast aside by the dailyness of everyday life. I love when something lures me back into creativity. Or gets my wheels turning. Too often my brain is on pause. Thanks to these three blogging women for pressing my Play> button today:

Emily of | j o n e s d e s i g n c o m p a n y | reminded me how much I love spaced out lettering. A designer, dreamer and doer. She inspires me daily to make things happen in my creative world. I loved her post today. Content aside, her blog is just plain gorgeous to feast your eyes upon. A graphic beauty.

Allison of O My Family recently attended the BlogHer Conference in NY. Today she did a little summary of the workshops she attended. O how I'd love to attend a writing workshop one day!

And {the anonymous} The Nester at Nesting Place. It really drives me nuts not to know her name, but I'll forgive her because her motto :: it doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful :: has totally inspired and challenged me recently. Her post today was an encouragement to love where you are now, not where you may be someday. Check her out. Her imperfect design philosophy is very freeing.

So there you go> grab an iced cappuccino, read and be inspired!

five:

2010-08-11T16:30:00.003-04:00

the number of days that I managed to avoid Taco Bell, after learning of their link to a national Salmonella outbreak.

I have a twofold defense: 1} It's cheap. 2} They have Mountain Dew.

Not sure what else to say about that. Salmonella Schmalmonella, I guess.

a poem for the pickle

2010-08-04T21:47:00.006-04:00

there is no argument

that will slow its (it is) passing

i think i would

if i could

just for

for a few more days

years, a few more snapshots

to learn your little

{everything}

into my mind

~especially~ the way you

lift your little big toes

and waddle walk

and every little way you

try to talk

and that blonde

blonde hair

warm cheeked sweetness

impy rapscallion mischief

dimpled giggly boy of mine

i need more of

time doesn't feel like enough

to absorb you know you love you

to gobble up my

pumpkin, pickle

nolie-pie

breakfast with my baby

2010-08-03T18:54:00.000-04:00

I'm ridiculously excited about this week.

It's VBS at church and I'm ridiculously excited for Matthew to experience it. Yesterday was day one and he had a blast. He just inhales this kind of thing.

While Matthew is at church each morning, I'm ridiculously excited to spend some special one-on-one time with Nolie. For our first excursion, we went to Tim Horton's and shared chocolate-

covered donuts for breakfast.

Me and my baby had a great time.

I enjoyed every messy moment of it.

The silly smiles.

The way he couldn't stand having the gooey chocolate on his fingers and wanted me to clean him after each bite.

How he went nuts for every truck that drove past, pointing his adorable little finger and vrooming his excitement.

There was something so sweet about sitting across the table from my cute little growing-up blondie and just enjoying each other's company. One-on-one times are how I connect to people most easily, so I cherish these bond-building moments. I left with a smile on my face and lots of adorable photos on my iPhone, feeling like I got to know my little buddy just a little bit better today. I hope Nolan always knows - not only that I love him - but that I sincerely like him and enjoy his company.

O My Little Baby Steps!

2010-08-02T07:30:00.009-04:00

As part of Allison's O My Organization Week, I set out to accomplish one home organizational task this week. I started out strong. But before I knew it, Friday was here.

What I accomplished isn’t glamorous and still seems half done. But. I must say I’m feeling lighter at just the mere thought of moving toward organization. Mostly it’s the idea of having a plan. A plan feels good.

I decided to tackle my biggest monster first. The bills. And all of the other out-of-control paperwork that this household seems to accumulate. I started with a spot in mind. And some quick online research to get ideas from others much smarter than myself.

The kitchen in our new place has so much more storage than our house did. I actually found that I have overhead cabinet space to spare. So I stuck my imaginary flag in the ground (cabinet) and claimed it as my bill organization hub.

The first step was easy. Who doesn’t love the shopping step? More importantly, who doesn’t love Target? I picked out a very happy three-ring binder to contain my bills and other paperwork. I grabbed some clear top-loading sheet protectors to store receipts and other loose items. I reluctantly purchased a three-hole punch. Before the move, I owned one. I’m sure it’s here – somewhere. If you saw our post-move garage though, I’m sure you’d agree and tell me to spend the five bucks on a new one.

{the happy, green binder}

The second step wasn’t bad. I emptied my newly claimed cabinet spot. Since it was only sparsely occupied with miscellaneous junk, it went quickly.

The third step, however, almost caused me to throw in the towel.

***All I had to do*** was raise the shelf up to accommodate my new (cute and happy and green) bill binder. I survived the ordeal, but the battle between Shelley and the plastic shelf hardware was not a pretty one.

I didn’t have it in me to adjust the second shelf. The resulting narrow space makes a lovely spot for my new three-hole-punch, paper and small office supplies, don’t you think?

I still don’t have everything solved or completely in place. But I did have a great moment today. While on the phone with the insurance agent, I very efficiently scribbled down notes from our conversation, along with date and time, right on our policy. Which I had nicely in place in the corresponding section of my binder. Yep.

{I may or may not have been patting myself on the back}

you capture ~ play

2010-07-29T14:41:00.012-04:00

It's hard to top special one-on-one time with your mommy.

But impromptu water play is definitely a cherry on top.

And cars are the sprinkles.

Isn't funny that you have to teach your kids a lot of things, but you don't have to teach kids to play.

In fact, they remind me what it's all about.

Hop over to Beth's for more...

for now

2010-07-28T20:30:00.000-04:00

I have a lot of areas crying out for my attention at home. And two little boys that cry out even louder. So most of my projects don't really get the attention I'd love to give them.

But - for now - I am very happy whenever I pass by this one room:

It's few contents are very organized under the sink. The bold pattern helps me get over the fact that I live in a neutral-walled rental. And the best part: the lamp. What says "someone paid attention to me" more than a lamp?

Some more personal touches would happy it up a bit. But ~for now ~ I'm just happy to pass by my one little clutter-free zone with a peaceful smile. Especially because {don't tell, but...} it's the boys' bathroom.

O My Blog Recommendation

2010-07-26T18:58:00.006-04:00

I don't know about you, but I'm always looking for a good read. It's hard to find time to squeeze in a good book these days. Instead blogs fill my reading void. One of my favorites belongs to Allison at O My Family. You should check her out. Great blog. Awesome girl. Cute baby. And she makes me laugh (and cry) in the kind of way that a good friend does.

I was originally drawn in by her clever adjectives and the addictive all-around O~ness of her site. I was once an O myself. And once an O, always an O. I grew up as Shelley O and though I've since traded my fabulous maiden name for a wonderful husband, I still like to think I'm an O underneath. My wonderful husband and I gave our boys O middle names (the beloved Owen and Oliver) to carry on the O~ness to the next generation. So I feel right at home with AllisonO, DanO and their adorable offspring, OBaby.

Anyway, all of that was just a preface to this: It's O My Organization Week at O My Family and I'm feeling inspired to tackle something around here.

Organization is not my cup of tea. In fact, I don't even like tea. I'm such a Little Miss Fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants girl that I often fear organization will turn me into one of {those} people. No offense if you are one of {those}, but I'm just not. I like my spontaneous life. But I do dream of a perfect balance that gives organization and an end to chaos - while nicely complementing and simplifying our freestyle life.

Since we moved I've been trying to build in new habits that fit into my daily life without giving up much in return. Like making my bed as soon as I roll out of it. Or emptying the kitchen table and dealing with the contents as soon as we're done. And doing at least two loads of laundry a day, so nothing gets out of hand.

I know. Duh. But for me, it's not natural.

But so far, so good. Things are functioning pretty okay in our new place. It stays fairly clean. But it's still a daily struggle to fit it all in. Being the kind of creative, fun and connected mom that I want to be for my boys. Fitting in my current illustration project. And keeping the house running. I get frustrated all the time that I'm working so hard just to maintain. I feel like I'm running in place. Fitting in an organization project feels nearly impossible.

But this week I'm going to try to find one area to tackle. One small thing. That should be doable, right?

I'll keep you posted. And let me know if anyone has any fantastic ways to deal with mail, bills and coupons, or ideas to handle clutter in a small bathroom. Remember, the obvious is probably not obvious to me.

Yesterday, Matthew...

2010-07-25T08:31:00.006-04:00

Last night we celebrated my father-in-law's birthday. My SIL Carol asked Matthew what he had been up to lately. His response?

"I'm on a bowling kick."

Matthew's blue-and-white plaid shorts came home with two grass-stained knees. And I smiled. This is our first grass-stain season. In other years my cautious boy didn't do anything crazy enough to warrant any rowdy contact with the ground. Last night he was jumping off a deck, competing with a group of kids for the best moves.

Since my last post about our new kitchen table and my desire to make this place feel more like home, I've been on a mission. A small mission, but still, it's starting to feel nicer around here - even if only in a few tiny areas. Mostly the bathrooms. Especially the main bathroom, which Matthew considers the boys' room. It is currently my favorite spot in the condo. I pass by slowly and do a double take, just to enjoy a little glimpse of deliberateness. Yesterday, Matthew said, "Mom, my bathroom is better than your bathroom." Even though I wholeheartedly agreed, I asked why. He simply spread out his hands presentation style and said, "Because..." Like isn't it apparent?

I could go on and on, but can I just say - I love this kid?

you capture ~ black + white

2010-07-22T13:10:00.004-04:00

i love this guy.

especially

his eyes and the

crinkles around them.

____________

hop over to i should be folding laundry to see the other

you capture ~ black + white photos this week.

you know you're a blogger when...

2010-07-20T23:57:00.006-04:00

you hear your four-year-old say, as a conversation starter,

"My mom did a post all about how I looked just like Chicken Yittle!"

celebrity lookalike?

2010-07-17T12:59:00.011-04:00

{Chicken Little}

{Matthew}

{Chicken Little}

Tough to tell, isn't it?

While we were in Kentucky earlier this week, Matthew got all fitted up in his cousins' baseball gear. And he was totally geeked about it. This kid loves his baseball, just like his daddy. Despite the hugeness of the helmet, the heat and the sweat dripping down his face, he was intent on wearing that helmet most of the time we were visiting.

My favorite moment was when all the cousins were playing Hot Potato. When the stuffed singing potato bonked Matthew in his giant helmeted head, he shouted out in his cute little voice, "I've got protection!"

And as soon as we got home, we found him his own helmet at Target. He's been wearing it non-stop ever since. Including to the doctor's office. I love my hilarious, baseball lovin' Chicken Little boy.

Adieu, to you and you and you

2010-07-16T19:29:00.011-04:00

So long, Dr. So-and-So.

Farewell, Dr. Out-of-a-Hat.

And goodbye especially to you, Dr. Cocky Intern.

Hello again Dr. We-love-you-more-than-we-ever-knew-and-desperately-want-you-back. We apologize if we were overly gushy today, but it was just so good to be back in the land of the insured that we couldn't help ourselves. Despite shots and x-rays and peeing in a cup, Matthew had a fabulous time and has renewed his love of the medical profession.

Pumped,

The Johannes Family

{detailed post about the helmet to follow}

you capture ~ vehicles

2010-07-15T15:10:00.011-04:00

this year i have learned

the importance and dignity

of this vehicle,

and of those it carries

to their final earthly resting place,

and of those it leaves behind.

Click here for more You Capture.

(Please forgive that it is an illustration rather than a photo,

when I saw the subject matter,

this was the only vehicle I could think about).

For more on my experience as the illustrator of

Klinger: A Story of Honor and Hope,

click Lessons from Klinger in my sidebar.

To purchase the Klinger book, visit the T*A*P*S website here

the best thing about a road trip

2010-07-15T14:14:00.005-04:00

Sunday morning the boys and I headed out on our first-ever road trip without Bob. We survived the five-hour drive to Kentucky, enjoyed three fun-filled days with family, then headed back to Michigan yesterday.

As I flipped on my turn signal to pull into our condo complex, Nolan shouted, "Da-da!!!!"

Which is exactly what I was thinking.

The best thing about a road trip is coming home to Bob.

Cause I know you're beside yourself with curiosity

2010-07-10T12:28:00.000-04:00

Welcome to the unveiling of my new, and newly assembled, Ikea table:

I was really, really, really excited to say adieu to our card table. Eight months without a real table can do that to a girl.

In a haphazard attempt to accessorize immediately after assembly, I grabbed a bowl, threw in the apples we had on-hand and set it triumphantly in the middle of the table. Ta-da!

In-real-life it looks a little more like this:

I'm a little concerned that we are starting to look like an Ikea catalog over here. Hmmm...only without the color. Or the stuff on the walls. Or the Swedish meatballs.

Maybe that will be my next project. I'm constantly battling internally about how much time to invest in a place that we are renting. But shouldn't everywhere you live feel --at least a little-- like home?

(Don't tell Bob, but it's hard to feel like home without {{{sshhhh}}} paint)...

what happened when I found my brain for forty-five minutes

2010-07-09T17:55:00.000-04:00

The weirdest thing happened Wednesday. I was alone. For four whole hours. Crazy, huh?

I was on a mission. An unstoppable, highly-anticipated expedition into the land of Ikea to procure a kitchen table and a computer desk for our new smaller space. {pictures to follow}

Along the way, my mind began to do what it rarely gets the chance to do: Think.

Really think. Like about more than peanut-butter-and-jelly and Sheriff Woody and dominos. I was a little rusty, but it just took about three Chris Tomlin songs sung at top voice to get the wheels unstuck and whirring again.

Then I was in the realm of the good stuff. Pondering the amazing, unchangeable nature of God. His constancy. How he is and was and always will be. I've always been intrigued by his faithfulness to all generations. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. And also the God of me, my dad, my grandpa, and my boys. But now, more recently, I have become fascinated with his constancy. He needs no changing. Requires none. He is already, completely exactly right. He is all that is good and right. The very definition of it. And always has been. And will always be.

Have you ever been afraid to get to know someone better, for fear of finding out things you wish you didn't know? For fear of being disappointed? Maybe I'm jaded, but I feel like that a lot. But with God, it's the complete opposite. The more we know him, the more we find out how wonderful and holy and good he is. The more amazed I become. The more I know him, the more I want to know. And the more I want to change and be like him.

An odd thought struck me. How crazy is it that the only thing capable of exacting true change within me is the only unchangeable thing in the universe?

Now just give me another forty-five minutes on an open road with an empty backseat and maybe I'll be able to finish this thought.

smooth

2010-07-08T22:03:00.005-04:00

...like jazz.

Cool like only a toddler has the right to be.

God made dirt

2010-07-07T22:01:00.006-04:00

Sometimes I forget that I've got to let my boys be boys.

Tonight began that way. They were hyper and driving me nuts. I wanted a calm, quiet dinner where we all chat about our day. (Maybe sometimes I also forget that my kids are only 1 and 4). After lots of reminders like, "Let's use our quiet voices!" and lots of squirmy, restless attempts by the boys to wrastle up some fun, I finally realized - I've got two boys sitting in front of me. Two boys with energy to burn. It shouldn't have taken a revelation to realize that some wild, unstructured PLAYTIME was overdue.

So we all hustled over to the park to do just that.

And, boy, oh boy, did they love it.

Matthew was in his glory, running the bases on an empty baseball field.

Nolan was in his glory too.

Eating the baseball field.

An hour and a half later, my boys were ready to go home. Dirty, sweaty and happy.

how we roll

2010-07-06T21:28:00.011-04:00

Is it pathetic that I've lived in this condo for over six weeks now, but have never turned on my stovetop until this evening?

Is it even more pathetic that this is what I made?

Before you answer, consider this:

1) I'm the girl who once subsisted solely on 7-Eleven food for years on end, and...

2) Not that long ago, coveted my mother-in-law's electric cooktop for the smooth counter space it provided.

(I could be said that I've come a long way, baby).

p.s. It made two little boys very happy.

The End.

thankful for the song in my head

2010-07-06T00:22:00.004-04:00

While I was away over Memorial Day weekend, often overwhelmed with emotions, there was a song that played in my head, over and over. It was a never ending soundtrack that was there in every conversation, in each and every loud moment and quiet moment. It cycled.

The Revelation Song by Kari Jobe of Gateway Church.

Strangely, I had only sung this song once before. At church the Sunday before my trip.

This song was a gift that weekend. It grounded me and comforted me. It was the bigger picture through which to filter all the pain I witnessed.

After the first two days, I realized that I could probably find the song on YouTube. I did and for more than an hour in my hotel room I let Kari's voice pour over me.

Tonight I can't sleep. I got out of bed to avoid the panic of insomnia. For awhile I surfed Facebook restlessly, then perused my favorite blogs. It was well after midnight and I still felt on edge.

Too tired to read, I remembered this song. I hopped over to YouTube and let it wash over me. And it's just what I needed to wash over me tonight. The truth of the universe. No matter what else is going on in my head or in my corner of the world -- Jesus is on the throne and around him they are singing, "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come".

So with all creation I sing, "Praise to the King of Kings. You are my everything. And I will adore you!"

That's what I'm going to think about as I lay my head on pillow and close my eyes tonight.

what a day at the beach can do

2010-07-04T22:37:00.002-04:00

I spent a day at the beach recently. Here's what I concluded:

A day at the beach can make you want to crawl under a rock when you run into someone from your past, and wish (once more) that the book He's Just Not That Into You had been written in time to save you loads of humiliation. {{{sigh}}}

A day at the beach can remind you why you don't swim at Metro Beach anymore. E.coli anyone? (I'll spare you the details if you just trust me and DON'T GO IN THERE!). {{{shutter}}}

A day at the beach can remind you that there is nothing cuter than baby toes in the sand. Except maybe a baby's own fascination with the sand between his toes. {{{awwww}}}

A day at the beach can confirm your suspicions that your little boy's giggle is the greatest sound on earth. And that his obsession with tornadoes can indeed be translated to any location. Dust devil anyone?

It can also cue sweet memories of your own childhood and many happy, sandy days on this very beach with your cousins. Back when you could still swim in the water and ended each visit with a twisty cone.

A day at the beach can bring back memories of a day eight years ago, when you were young and carefree and rollerblading around the beach with your girlfriends, sighing and giggling about your first date with a guy named Bob, who happened, as it were, to be very much into you.

A day at the beach can teach you firsthand that sand gets everywhere. And that being a mom can be really hard work (especially at the beach) but that the joy is, nevertheless, still worth every moment of hard work.

A day at the beach can lead you full circle. And leave you glad to be alive, and so thankful for the way the pages of your own story turned along the way.

{{{Happy 4th of July, everyone and Happy 8 Year First-Date Anniversary, Bob!}}}

the gift i can't stop thinking about

2010-07-02T22:34:00.001-04:00

This past year we have been so blessed by the kindness of others. We have been showered with help from friends and people who love us.

I often think of each gift and am so thankful.

But there is one gift I know I will never forget. Even if I wanted to.

During a stretch when we were at rock bottom, and when it seemed like we were receiving an envelope in the mail daily with some miracle gift or another, we got an envelope with an out-of-state postmark.

I knew who it was from. And immediately felt bad -- even before I opened the seal. Because these precious friends are in the same boat we are. Unemployed, barely making it, and wondering what the future holds.

I opened the envelope to find $50 inside. With a note. “We can do no great things; only small things with great love.” ~Mother Teresa

I later found out that these friends had specifically asked God to provide a way for them to give. Shortly after, they were given a sum of money as a gift. Instead of using the money for themselves, they thanked God for his provision and joyfully mailed the money to us.

I don't know what to do with that kind of generosity. That kind of heart.

Except be completely humbled. Humbled. Humbled. And challenged to be so much more like them.

Because I know I have a long way to go.

you capture ~ green/hands

2010-07-01T09:17:00.015-04:00

Though I don't consider myself a photographer by any means, like most crazy moms armed with a digital camera, I take way too many photos of my boys. Beth's You Capture ~ Chair. Hands. Green challenge was particularly fun this week. Because when you aren't busy protecting your 18 month old from wild hooligans or overzealous little girls who want to play mother, play areas = FUN!

I chose hands and green. Because I adore my little blondie's tan hands. And these green pea pods were irresistible. Nolan was determined to play like the big kids on the oversized veggies.

(Bonus tidbit #1: I used to hate the color green. In fact, I went so far has to love every-single-color, with the exception of green. But one day it snuck up on me and changed my mind. Kind of like my husband did. Bonus tidbit #2: I hate peas, but love carrots.)

Goodbye, little house.

2010-06-30T19:51:00.018-04:00

I didn't think today would be this hard.

I thought I would feel so relieved to have it over and done that I wouldn't have room for sadness.

So the tears that began on the drive over to the house to hand over the keys came as complete surprise. They came out of nowhere. I was driving along, thinking normal random thoughts, and then the next second, I was sobbing.

The boys went about their business in the backseat, pretending not to notice.

Thankfully we arrived before the key-collector-guy and I had a moment to pull myself together. And do one more walk through our empty house.

I was hard not to remember the first time we walked through the empty house five years ago, expecting our first baby and full of hopes and dreams and days to come. Or to think of how our boys whole lives so far have taken place under that roof.

I took pictures - even though it was completely pointless because Bob had already done that this weekend. But it felt like a way to say goodbye. Something to do, when there was nothing that could be done.

The guy arrived. We walked through the house. Said someone was going to get a great deal on a nice house. Then he handed me a check and I handed him a little baggie with two keys and two garage door openers.

That's all it took to cue the emotion. The tears were unstoppable. Sobbing, I apologized unintelligibly and hurried out the door with the boys.

We stayed in the driveway a few minutes while I tried to collect myself, and said my silent farewell.

Goodbye, little house. Our boys probably won't even remember you, but Bob and I will. We experienced five of the most memorable, unforgettably precious years of our life here. We experienced the joy of two newborn babies in these walls. Their cute little feet learned to walk, then run down your halls.

We giggled and laughed and made a lot of messes, as the carpet shows. We lived five years of birthdays, holidays and everydays too full to retell. We became a family in this house. Because of that you will always be special to us. Whenever we think of you, we will smile with memories of love.

Goodbye, little house, we're gonna try not to miss you.

a date with my boy

2010-06-29T21:49:00.007-04:00

This afternoon Matthew and I went on a special date. We went to see Toy Story 3 together.

It was a big deal for three reasons. 1) We never do this kind of thing - go out just the two of us. 2) It was Matthew's first movie theater experience. 3) Matthew had been looking forward to seeing this movie for months.

It was breezy and sunny and we were happy as can be, holding hands, meandering into the theater.
Matthew brought a friend along. Rex had to come see himself on the big screen. Notice who's holding the ticket.We got a ridiculously overpriced, ridiculously large popcorn and an orange pop to share. Then we made our way into the theater and found ourselves some prime seats, and a spot for Rex.

By the end of the movie, we had made an impressive dent in our over-sized bag of popcorn, Matthew was sitting on my lap terrified, and I was sobbing. It wasn't perfect, but I wouldn't trade the afternoon for anything.

The days go by so fast.

because it was that kind of day

2010-06-28T13:09:00.010-04:00

I don't know who it was who handed my son the whole bag of Doritos while we were at Music in the Park listening to the Detroit Symphony Orchestra at our local beach Saturday night. But it certainly wasn't me. I would never.

Even if Matthew had already accidentally sat on the sandwich I brought for him. And Nolan had already stepped on our spare sandwich with his sandy croc. And we had already had an exhausting day/week/year emptying out the last remaining contents of our house.

Even if it looked a lot like a very worn-out, who-cares version of me, I'm still standing by my story that it wasn't me who handed him the whole bag, shrugged and called it dinner --because it was just that kind of day.

_____________________________________

This post is part of Mckmama's Not Me! Monday. Hop on over to her site to see what she and everyone else have not been doing lately. You'll be glad you did. Or didn't. Or something.

Not to jump the gun...

2010-06-27T18:08:00.002-04:00

but Matthew does already have their honeymoon planned.

Matthew + Avery, dancing the night away

at the beach with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra

In case you're curious, here's the plan: First the beach in Hawaii to watch a volcano erupt from afar. Then back to the heart of the mainland to do some storm chasing in Tornado Alley.

In the meantime, they plan on enjoying preschool together this fall.

#36

2010-06-26T07:45:00.002-04:00

Unexpected reason that we love our new place #36 is:

: Our own {private} baseball field.

It was pretty much impossible to find a condo that had all the amenities of a house. If it had a backyard, it had no storage or room for toys. If it had volume, it had too many scary un-Nolan-proofable stairways. If it had room to roam on the inside, it had no exterior space. If it had an awesome deck, there was zero grass to play.

Which led us to where we are.

We liked the interior. We also liked that it had a basement for the kids to play. It had no dedicated yard, but it did have this courtyard. We imagined that it might be a really nice and semi-safe area for the kids to play.

In the back of my mind, I thought I was just fooling myself into positive thinking about the courtyard. So, the big shocker has been -- the courtyard really is awesome. I won't lie (even to myself) a backyard it is not. However, it actually works for us.

The boys and I play out there all day long. And we --pretty much-- have it all to ourselves. 99% of the time it is our own personal baseball field. Other days it's our private bug-search adventure land. A few times it's been our own private picnic grounds. And, for Matthew and me, our porch has often been our private reading spot while Nolan naps.

Did I mention we have this big outdoor space but don't have to do one moment of yard work? That deserves it's own number I'm sure. Especially if Bob was the one making these random, out-of-order, invisible lists.

In an effort to provide full disclosure, we don't have a swing set or a fence, and there are annoying dog poop land mines to contend with.

But, like I said, no yard work.

And baseball.

Lots.

And lots.

Of baseball.

Two happy boys playing lots of baseball.

#53

2010-06-25T07:44:00.013-04:00

When we moved into our condo, I thought I would have to convince myself to like it. As it turns out, there are endless reasons to love our new place. Here is reason #53:

: The pond across the street.

I had seen it before we moved in and it didn't phase me. But upon my first walk over there with the boys, on a beautiful pink-skied evening, I fell in the love with the spot. I feel transported with I'm there. Like we moved to another state altogether. And sometimes, when the daily grind has gotten to me, that is a wonderful feeling. So we meander over there often.

To feed the local wildlife. The bank of the pond is home to countless geese and ducks, all whom love to be fed. As soon as we approach, the birds all flock to our side of the pond. The greedy geese run the show, but we try to be fair and make sure the ducks get their fair share.

The kids love feeding the birds. Even Nolan. He gets how to break the bread into tiny pieces and loves to try to heave it as far as his little arms can throw.

Lots of giggles ensue. Along with some nervous laughter when the geese get a little too greedy and feisty. Matthew kicks into big brother role and yanks Nolan back by his shirt when he decides that a goose is getting to close.

After the ritual feeding time, which always goes by too quickly, we meander around the pond, gathering feathers and enjoying the calm.

Sharing our newfound fun with our friends, that's reason #54.

what i found

2010-06-24T13:46:00.008-04:00

The ishouldbefoldinglaundry ~You Capture~

photography challenge of the week was to get down low.

So I did.

And you know what I discovered?

That of all the things to see down low,

nothing can compare

with the cuteness of my boys' feet.

the cute girl in the army shirt

2010-06-22T09:58:00.007-04:00

Her name is Mia and she just moved in upstairs.

She and her mommy just ran our doorbell to see if we had a package that was delivered for them while they were gone this week. I love this part of community living. Doorbells, friendly

visitors on my porch early in the morning, the possibility of new friendships.

It makes me happy inside.

I thought I was going to have to convince myself to like condo dwelling. But --honestly-- I haven't had to do any convincing at all.

It suites me. I feel like I'm living in a movie I like.

Meeting the varied cast of characters - The Other Shelley Who Likes to Read the Paper on her Porch on Sunday Morning, Baroque (isn't that a cool name?), The Guy Who Smokes On His Porch that Nolan Likes To Smile At, Dana the Little Girl Who Loves Horses, The Other Mom Who Thinks I am a Delinquent Parent, The Older Couple Who Have a Big Dog and a Little Dog, The Nice Boy who Plays Four Sports Every Saturday, The Guy with the Cool Yellow Sports Car and a Jesus Fish, and Our Fabulous Upstairs Neighbors - makes life interesting, and unpredictable every day.

I'm pretty sure I must like unpredictable.

brotherly love

2010-06-22T09:22:00.005-04:00

it may have taken

eighteen months

but i think

they finally like each other

The return of Not Me Monday

2010-06-21T13:39:00.007-04:00

Just as I thought that my life had progressed into an elevated non-Not Me Monday state, the following did not happen to me this week:

As the boys and I were playing outside in our condo courtyard, Nolan did not decide to make a break for it and start hustling down the sidewalk toward a busy street. I did not take off running after him, leaving Matthew behind, peacefully bug-hunting in the shrubbery. By the time I caught up with my little run-away, I did not decided that it would be just as fast to circle around the back side of our building. It wasn't me who thought Matthew was so engrossed in roly-polies that he would never even notice that we were gone.

It wasn't me who enjoyed our little stroll, delighting in a rare, quiet moment to hold Nolan's hand and let him set the pace as we made our way around our building.

And it wasn't my peaceful five-minute stroll that met an abrupt end as I came around the corner into the courtyard to find Matthew sobbing in another woman's arms, telling her that I had left him.

It wasn't my son who wailed to this stranger that his mommy had been gone "about 35 minutes and probably took his little brother to feed the ducks at the pond across the street"! Nope, not me!

It wasn't me who had to endure skeptical, disapproving stares from a woman I had never met, as I scooped my sobbing child into my arms.

Unfortunately, it's obviously not me who will ever run out of Monday posts.

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This blog carnival is hosted by Mckmama at Mckmama.com. Come clean, link up and tell us what you didn't do this week. It's irresistible fun, I promise.

Musings by Matthew: Father's Day edition

2010-06-20T21:46:00.008-04:00

One evening this week, as I was ~~whipping up some good ole pb+j~~ making dinner for the boys, I noticed that Matthew was singing quietly:

"Oh, be careful little ears what you hear...oh, be careful little ears what you hear...for the Father up above is looking down in love, so be careful little ears what you hear..."

I didn't know he knew that song of my youth. He told me he learned it at Sunday school.

"Do you know who our Father up above is?" I asked him.

"Yeah!" he said, "It's GOD!!!"

"That's right," I told him. "Do you know that God is like a dad to us?"

"I know. But it's weird," he said, shrugging, "It's like the mommy is on a business trip or something."

Happy Father's Day to my husband,

who loves being a dad to his hilarious boys.

countdown to goodbye

2010-06-19T21:07:00.002-04:00

Seven days from now we will hand over the keys to our house.

Between now and then it's going to be mad dash to get everything done. Lots of sorting and cleaning. Lots of bags and boxes to be taken to good will or stashed at our condo. Loads of garbage to be hauled to the curb. Lots of big items to be sold on Craigslist. Lots of hot, sweaty work days like today.

So at this point, I'm so ready for the seven days to be over.

But once it's all over and the headache is gone, I'll have to take a moment to pause and remember our cute little house and all the good times we had there as our little family.

Maybe I'll actually let myself feel sad and give the house a proper goodbye. I wish life were like a sitcom and this episode could end with a video recap of all our special moments over the last five years, set to an appropriately melancholy yet hopeful soundtrack, and we would all stand out front smiling through our tears, knowing that the future was a bright one.

if there is such a thing

2010-06-18T21:58:00.005-04:00

I heard screaming coming from Matthew's bedroom. Coupled with a bunch of commotion.

"Help!" he called desperately.

I dropped my laptop (read: set it gently on the counter as fast as I could) and ran into his room to the rescue.

When I got in there, I was completely baffled. He was no where to be seen.

Then I looked down.

Two squirming feet were sticking out from under his bed.

"I'm stuck!" he wailed.

"What are you doing under there?" I asked, more perplexed than concerned about his predicament.

"I'm trying to find my lady bug!"

I quickly scanned the room. His bug jar was laying open on his bed. The bug jar with one strict rule: it may not, under any circumstances, be opened in the house.

Lifting the bed frame to free his head, I had only one thought. I am so glad that he wasn't collecting spiders today.

Lady bugs are my new favorite bug. If there is such a thing.