Write, Mama. Write.

Texture & toddlers & getting outdoors with our art

We're focusing on texture a lot lately, on how things feel and how the little details match up with the feel.  The boy's acute attention and natural pace helps us notice the world, and lends itself to such a focus.  We need a magnifying glass!  Anyhow, with play dough the other day we were having fun making prints with different raised surfaces.  The next day we had a little walk in the yard to find interesting textural items and then used Sculpey to make nature prints.

Sage

Shell

Parsley

Pine cone

Fir needles

Curly willow

I thought we could poke holes in them and make a mobile but they feel so nice to to touch and hold.  They bake hard, but still feel a bit soft and clay-like.  I think they'll just add special, decorative touches to our rock collection for now.  It worked best for us to roll a ball, place the textural item on top of it and then mash it down with the flat bottom of the mug.  It's totally doable for two- through 30-something-year-olds (the photos are clearer if you click on them to make them big!).

More 2/3 birthday sewing

We've had another wave of birthdays and missed four in one fell swoop the other week with a combined playgroup birthday party.  Two of the four recipients have now opened their presents so I feel I can show that I have actually brought the sewing machine out of hiding.  It was confused by my call to action.  These are bean bags for the turning-three-year-olds of the bunch, with a tossing basket (as in, you toss the bags into the basket for endless fun) which could also be used as a grocery basket to go with play kitchens. (Recognize the fabric, Trina?!)

L's mama picked fabrics from my little collection (sadly lacking in girly colors, I suppose) for a banner for her room.  I made it this way again.

Then I made some girly totes (like this) to go with the banner and other goodies for another friend (recognize the fabric, Gram?).

Good stuff.  I'm less conflicted about gifts like this as we get older (the boy and I).  I don't like spending my money for birthdays on plasticky junk with potential lead/magnet/exploding/whatever issues and kids really do seem to gravitate towards "simple" things for play.  A special bag for the library seems nice.  A favorite book would have been a good addition.  I don't want to seem cheap, but I feel like I value the time and energy we spend making things (the bean bags were a family affair!) more now. 

This week I'm jumping into the Block-Along (do you hear that, Sewing Machine?!) because it's the last week of Quilting Month.  This means it's our last week to talk to the owners of our little home about extending our stay month-to-month until we find our house-house (wherever that may be).  Thinking about the possibility of them saying no makes me feel sick.  We'd have to move to another rental for a few months.  It would be so disruptive.  And I now officially know house-hunting has taken over my world.  This morning playgroup was hosted at a house I haven't been to for a few months and they recently extended their back yard with a great little land purchase.  Instead of saying, "Oh!-- The boys will have such fun out there in the summer" or "Wow!  You'll have such a beautiful space for gardening and hanging out" or any number of other things I could have said, I said, "Great!  That will totally improve your property value.  It makes it really attractive to potential buyers."  Hmmm...  I'm a house-hunting wreck. 

Much better

Isn't there some power ballad that would make a good title here?

I think I've used a picture like this before.  I can't find it in the archives though, and if I have only a vague recollection of it then I'm thinking you won't object too vehemently.  Our third eclipse last night was the boy's first.  My photos are all black, so you'll have to enjoy the incredible photos at shining egg.  We lost out on the house and the conspiracy theorist in me thinks there was something fishy going on with an agent buying it from the elderly woman.  And when I think "escalator clause" I picture everyone in town heading up a department store escalator with boxes of their possessions, looking down on us with grins as they go to their new homes. 

We're all fairly sick.  I hate that I can't do things as well when I'm sick but T says it's the average of my days as a mama that matter.  I sobbed, in return, that this week was bringing down my average.  Somehow he got me to bed, and with coffee this morning everything isn't quite as bad.  There's just sadness, hacking coughs, uncertainty...  So we'll do what I always do when things feel overwhelming: go outside. 

Total eclipse of the heart?!  See, that's funny to think about.  It's not all as bad as it feels.

Merry-go...

Oh my good gosh time is whizzing.  Pwap.  There it went.  I lumped Friday into the three day weekend and we had a grand ol' time with friends, too many cookies, the zoo, and more.  Breakfast by the docks, dreams of houses and quilts, deadlines passed and unmet (shame), movies...  Today we hit the ground running; we put our offer in this evening for a house I didn't even know existed until this afternoon.  The entire town is swarming around the place, up for sale today, and I know our chances are small.  This, while the other house and our hopes for it sit somewhat empty (a "short sale" is anything but, by the way).  Somehow answers and a home will come.  This house though... It's the house of our dreams. 

I drove by in the dark and a couple was walking by the house tonight.  I had this little urge to pull over, grab a sleeping bag and camp out like I was waiting in line for hot tickets.  Except I didn't have a sleeping bag, the couple was just out for a walk and buying a house doesn't really work that way.  The radio station was playing songs from 1989 on my drive and I do believe that was a mighty fine year.  Free Falling transitioned into Closer to Fine and I had a brief moment of musically-induced belief in the universe sorting itself out.  I came ohsoclose to trusting that things will work.  And they will, one way or another.  Then She Drives Me Crazy came on and I was a bit ashamed to remember that I bought that tape in 1989.  I bought it in Hong Kong, after a ride in a double-decker bus on a curvy mountain road to potential doom.  We didn't die, but I know we all thought we might.  So that's cool. 

I also read a book (forget Castro-- This is news).  I discovered someone as neurotic and in love with motherhood as I am, though I'm not nearly as funny. 

The boy started saying, "What'cha doin'?" and "What'cha makin'?" this weekend and it's so cute and conversational.   Lots.  We're doin' and makin' lots.  More to come. 

Preschoolers & political candidates

It is now standard practice for our three foot+ family member to pop into his room and start clapping.  I hear the clapping and I'm trained to automatically start clapping too.  It transitions to "wild" cheers as our little racer bursts from the room and speeds around the house in complete circles, slowing as he nears to bask in the adulation.  This past week the local public radio station has replayed candidate speeches from recent NW visits.  As I listened, similarities hit me (repeatedly); there are striking parallels between preschoolers and political candidates. 

There's the whole "We love puppies" phenomenon.  A lot of speeches can be broken down into candidates forcefully declaring their appreciation and dedication to things everyone seems to agree about.  We all want respect for veterans.  We'd love to have more money to use for our families.  We think education is important.  You know, "We love _____ (strong economies, little kids, America... puppies)".  It's the same with toddlers.  It's easy to get behind affection for trains, animals, cookies and playgrounds.  Preschoolers have classic loves that can cross a divide.  Hey, they love puppies too.

At some point in the speeches it's always clear the audience is riled up to such a degree that anything the candidate says will be met with enthusiasm.  These local pre-caucus/pre-primary stump speech attendees make for a friendly audience.  The speech ball starts to roll and you're confident the audience will roll anywhere, as long as it's to "change" or "experience" or our personal reduction of basic hope embodied in the process.  You stick with a preschooler too, through the convoluted explanations that carry you from dawn 'til bedtime.  You'll roll with them anywhere.  You believe in their essence.  You're a friendly audience to their passion or their skill, to their bid for what's to come.

Preschoolers and political candidates embrace extreme energy.  Teams of people tag along to help in any way possible.  There's lots of passion, cheering, confusion in "process"... Simultaneously in the parent/voter there's a slight fear of power, and the realization that to some degree or another you are complicit in giving some of that power.  There are moments of disequilibrium when your messages aren't the same.  There are factors in decision-making you won't understand (the importance of obscure special interests from mid-west farmer associations or the importance of wearing just the right color and weight of socks with just the right pair of boots before hitting the trike, rocks in hand).  Their running is full of our dreams.

The differences abound, of course, but that collective appreciation of what is possible for a country or a child whips up some mighty fine energy.  It's enough to get me huddled in a hot and stinky gym on a Saturday caucus afternoon, with all of the neighbors I've never met.  It's enough to get me off the couch to chase the racing boy for a hug. 

As the country gets ready for a big playoff with big payoffs and as my guy grows, I've discovered there's a democratic existence here at home.  I'm campaigning for our future one preschool day at a time.       

Happy Valentine's Day

Denyse Schmidt stuff

My little article/interview with Denyse posted yesterday and today there's a sneak peek at her new collection on the SMS blog.  Just in case you missed it... 

It all makes me want to kick off a new business and improvise a quilt or two.  Today.

Mama meditation

Please be nicer to yourself.  It isn't easy to nurture a little soul with pep and style.  It's hard work and you're doing a really good job.  There is no such thing as perfect and really, think about what you want to model... Do you want your little one to feel he has to be perfect? 

If it all seems overwhelming think about what really matters.  Are the overwhelming things something you'll give thought to a week from now?  A month from now?  A year?  10?  Does it really all need to be done?  Give it some semblance of "tidy" and go play. 
Laugh. 
Explore. 
Model joy.

Have you had enough protein?  Water?  Are you sleeping enough?  Do you need to ask for some help?  Have you done anything for yourself lately?  Remember: that makes you a better mama.

Did you notice today?  Really notice?  Did you show him that he is important and that you respect him, his emotions and his brilliance?  I bet you did.  You know how muscles have memory?  Children will remember your intention.  Don't beat yourself up when it doesn't go the way you hoped.  Do things with love and it will matter.

Please be nicer to yourself.

Fascination moments delay, Good news: it's the raw material

Still no 9-patch.  How is this creative vacuum even possible?  I think part of the reason is the same answer to "Why are we so tired?" and "Why is the furniture getting so dirty lately?" and "Who did XYZ?": the boy.  He's a pretty good reason to snuggle up in a bubble of play and slight exhaustion for years to come.

It takes us forever to get anywhere because "fascination moments" abound in our life.  These are moments where everything stops because an unusual bird is flicking his feet under his wing on the dock.  Or because light flickers through playground stairs on an unusual stone.  Over time my inner "Aak, hurry, come on" is shifting to "Wait a sec and look at this."  So it doesn't have to be done... now.  Maybe the creativity needs the stillness.  The noticing.  Maybe I'm learning a lot by waiting.  Maybe fascination moments are the raw material for everything good. 

More good (kid-variety):

• I'm loving this CD (click into music on the left to listen to each of the songs, via Molly) like I fell in love with Elizabeth Mitchell: fully, completely, and on repeat.
• Make your own stickers.  The second grader me would be flipping out.
• Kirsten made playsilks and I'm going to too.  Somehow they make me think of toga party people dancing around Maypoles with gymnasts in the background (I know, it's just me) but I bet they'll end up as roofs to garages for race cars. 

Friday is always just the best

It's so nice to start the day with cinnamon toast and painting.  Our artistic friends gave us some liquid watercolors that are so much fun to use.  They're already "mixed up" so you don't get that too little water/dry brush thing going on, and the colors are so vibrant.  Go bug Camille for her source, if you're interested, because I know she always finds the best deals (and she found them online).  She and I both happened across this great, newer site this week (oh, Amanda now too!). 

• I think I'm really good about infusing our days with plenty of literacy, art, play, meaningful work to make our home a home (read: housework together), time outdoors (though less lately, for certain, with the lousy weather) and baking.  This little guy is fascinated by all things mechanical and scientific though, and I've been thinking of more ways to incorporate that into our days.  I've got plans brewing.  A bit of Toddler Science Friday, or some such thing.

• I've also been lost in this site, Changing the Present.  I'm contemplating a return of the shop with a good chunk of the proceeds going towards different gifts via the site.  It would feel good to support training a midwife, or supplying children with new books or helping women plant successful gardens to help feed their families (just a few of the many, many choices you can find via the site).  I've also thought about Kiva.  It'd be nice to share some crafty energy/love with women who don't have the same advantages I enjoy.

• Look at this page from Chris Jordan, a Seattle-based artist.  He writes on his site,      "This series looks at contemporary American culture through the austere lens of statistics..."

• I have fabric ready for birthday gifts and my nine-patch this weekend.

And this, my friends, all means I'm officially over the January hump o' blah.  Caucus tomorrow (did that freak you out for me to pop that up?-- Crafty, toddler, ladida, the mama life... BAM: Politics!), rain, Valentines, pancakes, house drive-bys...  I have to mention that one of the last houses we drove by looked FANtabulous online.  New kitchen, huge, beautiful wood floors, etc.  The online map was wrong and we ended up in the middle of nowhere.  The house was fine but it was surrounded by heaps and heaps of garbage, dead cars and trucks, ten year old toys with mold piled on more garbage, snarling dogs... To the left, right, front, back of the house and even, maybe, hovering above the house itself like frozen snow (I've blocked out some of the memory): garbage.  I think online sites should just take a couple of neighborhood shots to save everyone a whole heck of a lot of trouble.  I'm just sayin'.  Also, I think the insurance company, if they must reduce their print-outs to one name of the two, married policy-holders, should go with the person who started the original account many years before even meeting the other person.  The company's policy now is to address everything to the man.  The man alone.  I, the woman, am the only reason they have our account in the first place. 

OK.  Thanks for spending nap with me.

Washington residents

Just in case you live in Washington and didn't know... The Democratic Presidential Caucuses will be this Saturday, February 9th at 1:00 p.m. (though they can't officially decide anything until 1:30).  Your vote for a Democratic candidate in the upcoming state primary does not count toward delegate selection so if you want what you think to matter, you must attend your precinct caucus.  You can click here for more info (including links to find where your caucus will be held).  It's still important to participate in the primary because there are lots of votes you can make to support schools, etc. 

Typical but not

Finally the cleaning bug hit.  We borrowed my sister's vacuum (we usually make do with sweeping and wet rags, and with wood floors it works fine) and had a wild vacuum party all morning long.  Everything was vacuumed, including the boy (who thought that was the epitome of hilarity).  One thing leads to another and instead of throwing my hands up at every turn I tidied up (tidy oop!-- Ulla) at every turn.  Crazy linens?  No more.  Disorganized everything?  A little, but less.  It felt good.  A typical housewifey day, but not.  We loved the various series on PBS taking people back to homesteading, colonial days, etc.  I remember them trying to use a carpet sweeper in The 1900 House and how dirt seemed to multiply.  Vacuums really are an amazing tool.  Appliances I dare to love: Coffee Pot, Washing Machine, Vacuums and (my someday true appliance heartthrob) Dishwasher.

This is not my sister's vacuum but rather the boy's little retro number.  See it next to the empty washer?  It makes me smile with that late '70's vibe and then a little bit of me worries about lead paint.  A little bit of me is always worrying about the lead paint, plastics, phthalates in shampoo, non-organic foods, strangers, falling furniture...  I have to resist the urge to freak out and bar the doors (the air quality in here would soon deteriorate and the delivery trucks bringing us provisions would contribute to global warming).

In other news that's fit to print (here, nowhere else, and even then are you rolling your eyes at the mundane just as my boy did to me for the first time ever yesterday?-- Stinker): We invited friends over to make Valentines today.  I got the February tub down (actually T got the February tub down but I directed-- I'm so good at that) from storage and it's beginning to look a lot like... a first grade classroom in here!  Yikes.  It's easy to do that.  Art supplies in tubs, hanging art, books on a theme.  Without meaning to I always recreate first grade.  We hosted playgroup at the Children's Museum on Monday (meaning we brought lunch, essentially) and I could have fed a classroom.

Also, I did a really great phone interview yesterday (meaning I tried not to stutter and she was just amazing) and I was so proud of myself for actually getting words out.  I'm about 92% completely terrified of talking on the phone.  The interview will go up on the SMS blog next week, and that really will be fit to print lots of places!

Within a couple of minutes yesterday I clicked into this discussion and then Elsita's amazing story of the surrealism of living in the moment.  I felt that "living in the moment" goodness, vacuuming my little guy's socks while he rolled in screeching happiness on the couch... Dock and train station and airport to my left, dirty dishes and a fresh copy of The New York Times to my right.  Rain pours, hope flickers, uncertainty abounds and who knows what tomorrow brings?  My mundane is the good stuff.

Yeah... Change all of the todays to yesterdays, yesterdays to "the day before yesterday."  Time flies.

The important boy

The important thing about you is you.

It is true that you are two.
You explain the world,
you look at me to see if you can eat another cracker.
I hold you and know peace, snuggling down to kiss the top of your ear (which is perfect).
You are energy, joy, love, the future, our everything. 

But the important thing about you is that you are you.

The Important Book is one of my favorite books to read to young kids.  Occasionally that Margaret Wise Brown just nailed it.  We unearthed our Valentine books and the second half of our winter books yesterday, and discovered The Important Book again.  The boy nodded with every truism.  It was in the February tub from school because I'd have the kids write about someone for Valentine's Day. 

Some other "Love" favorites:
Mama, Do You Love Me? (Joosse, illustrated by Lavallee)
The Kissing Hand (Penn, illustrated by Harper & Leak)
I Love You the Purplest (Joose, illustrated by Whyte)
Happy Valentine's Day! (Scull, illustrated by Lennicx & Kahata- Gets the idea of Valentine's Day across for toddlers in a nice way)

Winter (have I shared these here already?):
The Snowman (Briggs)
Owl Moon (Yolen, illustrated by Schoenherr)
The Mitten Tree (Christiansen, illustrated by Greenstein)
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening (Frost, illustrated by Jeffers)
When Winter Comes (Van Laan & Gaber)
The Mitten (Tresselt & Yaroslava)
All You Need for a Snowman (Schertle & Lavallee)

'Cat'aloguing the developments, or lack thereof

We have stacks of wood on shelving between our house and the shed.  It's all under a roof, it's not ours (ahem) and it's on the other side of the wall from our bed's headboard.  This weekend all of the cats in the neighborhood, stray or no, decided it was a cat version of a Japanese love motel, lumberyard theme.  All through the night for two nights I ran outside hissing, water bottle as my spray defense, wielding a flashlight and just knowing there'd be a full-on attack.  Cats vs. me.  Terror.  Nobody appreciated my thoughts on how catastrophic the situation was and how catatonic we were after the lack of sleep.

Perhaps the lack of sleep led us to our inane, misguided attempts to get out and about.  It's a good thing we had breakfast on Saturday morning because it was downhill from there.  I think the house wait is this heavy cloud over us.  It settles over us adults, who unwittingly share it with the kiddo in little bits of worry and excitement and nervousness and frustration seeping through cracks.  It's complicated, but the essence of it all is that we don't know if we get to buy the house or not (still) and then, even if (pleaseohplease) it happens we don't know when we'll close because the bank (owner) has to have a little work done before closing.  There's nothing else.  We've been looking since October.  Our lease is up soon.  A 700 square foot rental in the winter with a busy two year old doesn't work well. 

It's the not knowing.  If I could mentally move on or mentally move in fully it would be fine.  I know it's a pretty good problem to have as far as problems go.  Moving is one of the most stressful life events though, according to those lists, and Not Knowing about Moving has got to be up there too.

Stinkarellibooboo, Kiddo, Sweet Boy, Wild Child or Stinkarelli (he actually smells quite nice) is a little wonder these days.  Last week we headed off to toddler gym to try it out only to find he's in KINDERgym now.  Last week he and I went to a preschool fair, just because I like to research and even if it's a long time coming (it is) I want to know what the options are.  Last week he "Ah-ah-ah'd" me.  When he was little, little he totally disregarded "No" so we developed a little "Ah-ah" sound that made him look and did the same thing without that word.  Now, along with telling me how to fix my hair, he "Ah-ah-ah'd" me. 

He knows what he wants to wear, where he wants to get dressed, precisely what we should do once we are dressed...  He thrills with talk of cookies, reading and adventure.  He yells, "Happy Birthday, Everyone!" all the time (quite randomly, with approximately seven extra syllables).  Last night our little "Goodnight Moon" routine where Daddy reads "Goodnight light and the red balloon" and then I echo "Goodnight light and the red balloon," etc., etc. was utterly different with Daddy reading and the boy echoing and tears of "Ohmygoodness... He's in Kindergym, someday he'll go to school, he's so capable-happiness" in my eyes.  He's growing up, so fine.

I just said we couldn't bring one of his toys with us to the Children's Museum.  He immediately yelled, "Hey, Dada!!" and then quickly realized Daddy was at work.  He ran off, rustled through every toy in his room and came back in with a toy phone held up to his ear.  Daddy evidently says it's OK to bring it to the Children's Museum and work is going well.

Making progress

A stitch, cut, a row here and there.  Without meaning to I keep finding these sad, little fix-it projects.  This vintage linen jacket was about a dollar and needs a new lining. 

Think of the hours someone put into this double spread.  Then another someone spent a lot of time finding each little spot for repair, tied them with blue ribbons and attached a note imploring someone else (me) to recognize the time and skill involved in crocheting this and to spend just a little time to bring it back to glory.  All for a few dollars, all shoved down by the floor in a corner.  Would you be able to resist? 

I'm still going with the hats, kid needles and all (brilliant!).  We were invited out for breakfast this morning and it was wonderful.  It was drizzle down by the docks, good coffee and conversation, a happy boy and something different.  Making progress.    

Thanks, hello, five happy blogs

So last week...  First though I wanted to say thanks for your kind emails and comments.  Your tips and hearing that other people work through similar questions really mean something big to me.  Thank you.  I think there's a fine line between whining and really, genuinely wanting to just put out what's going on as a release and as a way to connect.  I hope you hear the release/connect part of it and not the whining.  I think one of my indicators of overt, um, stress is when I start shying away from writing here because I can't find the time to create and I can't find the space to view more magic than things that need to be tidied.  It's really important to have a niche of my own though, and I want it to be a reflection of my mama life.  January was genuinely a really long month. 

Hello, February!  Hello, quilting, finding a new home, snuggly Richard Scarry readings (egg trucks and toothbrush cars! Ha!), signs of spring, Kindergym, Valentines, sunshine and sticky fingers dipped in the sugar bowl.

I liked the list over at 6.5 stitches...  Here are five make my day blogs.  Seriously, when the titles come up bold in the reader I feel happy.  I think what these have in common, what the blogs I really love have in common, is a vibe of "genuine."  They all come across so honest, real, human, talented, creative, inspired. 

Knitting Iris- I think it's my favorite visit.  Browse and you'll see why.
Elsa Mora- Grew up in Cuba, heading to the Oscars, makes kick-ass dresses and art she loves.
elsie marley- I visit for everything from the patchwork diggers to the thoughtful mothering.  I wish she lived down the street.
A pot of rose tea- Finland tunic-making mama who says it like she sees it.  Incredibly productive (not just tunics!) and honest, raising two happy, wild boys.
Uncommon Grace- So talented and mindful about parenting and life in general.