Hiking & Waterfalls & Bears, Oh My!

While in Tennessee we took a day to explore Great Smoky Mountain National Park.  The Hubby strapped my Owlie boy on his back and our Uncle Brinton {in the far distance} carried 2 year old Mason on his shoulders.  Nothing like great Dads to make a family hike possible!

I was only mildly concerned by the bear warning signs at the start of the trail up to Laurel Falls. If you see a bear, stand your ground, don’t charge it, don’t feed it, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I was more worried by the “sheer cliff drop off” signs that encouraged you to control your small children lest they fall to their deaths.

At some point I stopped paying attention to the bear signs altogether. Instead, my trusty camera Edward and I enjoyed the beauty all around us.

Truly, it was quite a gorgeous day and the hike was just what our bodies needed after the turkey coma from Thanksgiving day.  We spent considerable time at the actual waterfall and then made our way back down the mountain.

Imagine my surprise when, upon our descent, we were stopped dead in our tracks by a medium sized bear cub meandering his way down the slope above and directly across our trail path about twenty feet in front of us!

My kids were completely enthralled.  Meanwhile, I had every bear mauling story I’ve ever heard replaying in my head.  Should we lay down and pretend we were dead?  Should we shout at the bear?  Should we name it Sally and take it home as a pet? I couldn’t remember a single bear fact aside from “Don’t’ feed the bears.” I mentally commended myself for leaving the snacks in the car.

I snapped a quick photo {yep, it’s a total bum shot} and then before a momma bear could find her baby, we made a quick exit down the trail and off the mountain.

Whew! Sharing close proximity with wild and ferocious nature is stressful! But my kids can’t stop talking about seeing a bear up close in the mountains of Tennessee.  It made their trip.

Okay, I’m done talking about Thanksgiving and my near death experience. Thanks for bearing with me.  Hardy har har.

Go Team!

It’s always fun to take our kids to another part of the United States.  Even though we are all part of one nation, each state has its own cultures and customs.

We spent Thanksgiving at a cabin in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee with the Hubby’s sister and her family.  It was a brand new experience for everyone.

Playing Turkey Bowl football on Thanksgiving morning in our short sleeves was AWESOME!  It was almost 80 degrees outside. My kids were grinning AND sweating at the same time.  The didn’t know what to do with themselves!

Ever wonder how to play football with an infant? No problem, we’ve got you covered:

Ever wonder how to coach adults in their 30’s down to kids ages 13, 11, 8, 5 and 2? Not an issue, we’ve got an uncle for that – and he’s tough but effective {if  a Dragonfly can score a touchdown, he’s doing something right}:

Ever wonder what to do if you’re the only girl cousin playing in the game? No problemo. . . just whip your hair and work it:

Ever wonder what to do if your team is losing? Here’s a solution that never fails – disarm the opponents with your cuteness:

Ever wonder how to reward the winners {and losers}? When it’s 80 degrees outside, there’s only one way. It has to be ice cream:

Football in Tennessee on Thanksgiving with Ice Cream.  Not too shabby for a new experience, don’t you think?

A Wish For You . . .

May your potatoes be lumpy,

While your gravy is not.

May your pie have real whipped cream

And your seat be next to a favorite relative.

May your children behave themselves at the table,

But go a little crazy everywhere else.

May your turkey be cooked to perfection,

And your rolls homemade.

May you enjoy a day of Thanksgiving,

remembering all above all that you are  truly blessed!

Significant . . .

This was the view outside of my plane window yesterday.

It could be very easy to see something like this and feel so small and insignificant. But when I saw this, I felt significant.  I felt like God had put this vista together for my eyes to see.  And I was stunned by the beauty of water, clouds, mountains and rays of light.

I now have one day to pack my family before we leave for Thanksgiving early in the morning.  This gorgeous view is in the back of my mind as a peaceful reminder of how much I missed my life and family.  I will not let fighting, chaos, exhaustion or whining deter me.

I’m grateful to be home.

Going Home . . .

Today I will be going home. I have been away from my family for five whole days. I have had an amazing time with my six Lee sisters. I have been inspired, uplifted and joyful. But I am longing for home.

I go to sleep at night missing my prayers with Hubby and the way he warms my cold toes. I wake up in the morning wanting to run in and grab my wee one, drink in his baby scent and touch his soft hair. I feel lost having not kissed small heads at night and scooted the same heads out the door in the morning. I am always grateful for time away because it makes me realize that time together is what is meant to be for my life.

Secretly I always fear that while I'm away they did perfectly fine without me. That maybe I'm not as crucial to their lives as they are to mine. That my perfectly capable Hubby really can do it all without me and that my job as mom, wife and CEO of the home is obsolete. It's silly, I know, but I still think it.

Tonight I will get home at midnight. Everyone will be deep in the thickness of winter sleep. I will go kiss heads, pull up covers and turn off night lights. And then I will snuggle my Hubby and be glad to be home.

Sweet. Tart. And Oh! So Good . . .

I have a thing for limes.  In the middle of a blustery fall day, they make me feel like it’s summer.  They make my little vintage juicer happy too, so it’s a bit of a win win at my house.

Speaking of winning – today you are the winner.  Because I feel like sharing some limey  goodness with you.  And you’re gonna want to shout about this one on the roof tops.

The recipe for Coconut Banana Bread with Lime Glaze is from the treasure chest of a cooking website, Our Best Bites. If you haven’t visited, do it now.  You won’t regret it.  And you won’t regret making this bread. It is banana bread to the next level.  It will make you buy bananas just to watch them go brown.  Your people will love you . . . if you haven’t already eaten the entire loaf by the time they get home.

You can thank me later, after you’ve licked the sticky goodness from between your fingers.

 

Ps. I’m off to the West for a Sister’s Retreat . . . yeah, it pretty much rocks.

The Miracle of the Pig . . .

Though I won’t go into it in great detail on the blog, I have a child who is falls squarely under the ‘Picky Eater’ umbrella.  It means that every meal is a challenge. It means that every ingredient is scrutinized. And it means that one momma chef is a little weary a lot of nights.

When Ollie joined our family, I was determined not to have another selective child who gave me a run for my culinary money. And though I introduced him to a variety of different foods, I knew there was no guarantee he wouldn’t follow in the steps of a certain non-eating sibling.  There seems to be something about genetic hardwiring that even a control-freak mom like me can’t control.

But I have a secret weapon. And his name is Hammy. He’s the little pig that reminds my kids to have manners at meal time or get stuck doing the dinner dishes. And now he is waging the war against picky eaters. 

About three weeks ago our incessant “What does the piggy say” finally paid off when Ollie started making a snorting noise and pointing at Hammy whenever he was seated in his high chair.  I would bring Hammy out to watch Ollie eat.  That quickly turned into ‘pretend feeding’ Hammy to get a chuckle out of my baby boy.  And then the magic began.

The first time I ‘fed’ Hammy, Ollie’s mouth immediately opened wide as if to say, “I’ll take what he’s having!”.  Now, any time I ‘feed’ Hammy, Ollie wants a bite too. 

So Hammy is becoming a regular fixture at breakfast, lunch and dinner these days.  He’s spattered with all kinds of food muck – I swear, he’s such a pig!  But I don’t mind.  Because my little guy is coming away from each meal with a full tummy having tried everything the pig ‘ate’.

Take that, picky eaters!

Thoughts Weighing . . .

Twenty-seven pounds on one’s back can get heavy after a lot of walking.  That’s the thought that kept weighing on my mind as Ollie weighed on my back last week when I took Jennie to Great Falls. 

At first he was fine and almost weightless on my back.  But the longer we walked, the more I felt the strain in my shoulders and neck.  Combine that with the fact that we were navigating narrow passes and steep rocks, and I felt that each step I took had to be measured carefully and executed with intense precision in order to reach the beautiful view at the top.

By the end of our little trip, I was worn out. Glad I’d done it, but worn out nevertheless. Jennie had to help me retrieve my infant from his little carrying cocoon because I just couldn’t do it alone. I was very grateful she was there.

***********

We are not meant to walk the rocky road of this life alone with burdens that weigh on us and wear on our souls.  I continually marvel at a loving Creator who has put a true and constant friends, devoted family, a selfless husband and a perfect Savior in my path to help me on my way.  At times they simple walk beside me reminding me that I can continue on my journey.  Other times they physically and emotionally bear the weight of my load making it so light I can barely even remember it is there.

It is remarkable to look back on some of the narrow passes and steep rocks I have navigated thus far in my life and revel in the gratitude I feel for their difficulty.  At the time, each trial seemed to get heavier and more pronounced. There have been times I was sure I could not bear it.  I felt defeated and deflated and the end seemed nowhere in sight.

But always, with help from those meant to be my life’s companions, I’ve found my way through the difficulty to the view at the end. And it is beautiful.

I am grateful for thoughts weighing.

Ollie @ 16 Months . . .

Our sweet lastborn has been with us for sixteen months.  He is delightful and daring and pretty much runs the show around here. He fills my days with his busy-busy ways, his babbling talk and even a few terrific tantrums.  Here’s what else the boy wonder can do:

* Finally wear his feather light, white hair in a little faux hawk.

* Say bubble. Over and over and over. He also says hi, bye, go, woof woof, cheese, shoes and momma.

* Follow a set of complex directions, like “Go get your shoes and bring them to Mommy” or “Can you throw the diaper in the trash can?”.

* Climb up on our couch, dining table chairs and various  other child endangering, height-involved items.

* Turn on the Queen’s iPod and pick a song at random.

* Laugh at a joke without getting the punch line.

* Charm the pants off everyone at Costco with his waving and “hi”. And I mean everyone.

* Put his favorite lamb stuffed animal under a blanket and make a snoring sound to tell me it’s asleep.

* Make every diaper change an exercise in futility by wiggling and writhing and crying in protest.

* Talk on a phone, cell phone, electric razor or remote {to him, all phones}.

* Cheese hard for a picture.

* Slide down all five slides at our local park.

* Run full tilt.

* Spot a plane at a ridiculously far distance in the sky, point to it and say “Ooohh.”

Photo of Ollie in his Little Man Sweater taken last Friday.

Friend For Life . . .

A few months ago I mentioned feeling a bit alone in the close friend department. And I am still learning what that means in my life right now.  Mostly it means that because I am so busy with my four kids and their schedules, my church responsibilities and the general day-to-day running of an empire {okay,  household}, I am okay with it.  But there are still those times when I long for a long phone chat, a good gut laugh or a night out with a girlfriend.

Enter Jennie.

Jennie and I met in college.  I knew instantly that we’d be friends for life.  We connected on another level.  It was a hilarious level. And she has not disappointed me ever since. Everyone should have a friend like Jennie.  Someone they can:

* Tell their heartbreaking stories to.

* Laugh with about words that are gross, like moist or paunch.

* Cook new recipes with.

* Share photographs from life’s adventures with.

* Watch the final episode of Lost {again} and cry with.

* Tell horrific bikini waxing stories with.

* Lay hopes, dreams, insecurities and fears out in front of.

* Paint toenails with.

* Be inspired by.

* Share a love of chocolate, travel, pens, kitchen gadgets, words, books, design, vampires, art and movies with.

* Laugh with.

* Cry with.

* Have deep conversations about life, love and God with.

* Laugh and cry even more with.

So this morning when my sweet Hubby told me my recent blogging was lacking, I told him I didn’t care.  Not because I don’t care, but because my friend Jennie flew all the way across the country to see me and I want to enjoy her company. Because she’s been there for me and I want to do the same for her.

If you’ve ever had a friend like Jennie, I know you’ll understand. If you’ve ever been a friend like Jennie, I adore you.

We’ll be friends for life.

Photo secretly stolen off of Jennie’s blog. 

My Dad, My Hero . . .

Every year on November 11th our elementary school holds a very special Veteran’s Day Assembly. 

Every year the the Cub Scouts enter in their little blue uniforms to post the American flag, the audience recites the Pledge of Allegiance and children from each grade sing a patriotic song to honor the veterans in attendance.

Every year my dad attends, looking dapper with his medals on his chest and his cap firmly on his head.  Every year {for the past seven years} he has called the other veterans to attention to salute the children, faculty, staff and families in attendance at the assembly. 

And every year I cry. Like a baby.

I love you Dad.  Thank you to you and all the others who serve our country.

ps.  Blogging sporadically as my AH-MAZING friend Jennie Doezie is in town and we must PLAY. :)

Thinking Out Of The Box . . .

I’m thinking about Christmas gifts for my children already.  Are you?  I’m pretty sure I’m going to go to Costco and get Ollie a bunch of free cardboard boxes for Christmas.  They keep his attention longer than any other toy we have in our house. 

I have a lofty goal of getting my shopping done by Thanksgiving this year.  Which is crazy since I will be travelling for eight of the next sixteen days.  Still, my intentions are good.

Last night we had a Family Home Evening where we talked with our kids about true service.  I think November is a perfect time to remind them that the greatest joys come not from receiving, but from giving to others.

Last year for Christmas we began a new tradition of finding a way to make a charitable difference in a complete stranger’s life. After some research, our family chose to donate to Charity: Water . Our children were unaware that many children don’t have clean drinking water in underdeveloped countries.

This year our children are excited to choose individual gifts to  give schools in underdeveloped countries through the WorldVision progam.  Hannie is leaning towards art and music supplies for a school, Big C wants to give soccer balls and RedDog was moved by the idea of mosquito netting so that children don’t get malaria.

What about you?  Do you have a charity of choice?  Are you teaching your kids to make a difference?

Two Guys, Too Funny . . .

Have I ever mentioned that my Hubby is funny.  Like gut splitting, pants peeing funny.  He makes me laugh on a daily basis.  I blame him for the crow’s feet around my eyes.  I’m sure if I hadn’t laughed so much in the past fifteen years, I’d be wrinkle free.

On Friday I sat with him as he came out of anesthesia after minor surgery.  It was possibly one of the funniest moments we’ve ever shared together.  Especially when he motioned to me to come closer and then whispered, “Hey, come here, I have to tell you something . . . I’m a NINJA.” I guffawed and he replied, “No, seriously, don’t tell anyone, but I’m a ninja!  Watch.  I can make my heart rate go below forty.”  Then he made his heart rate dip into the 40’s and looked at me with a boyish grin and confirmed it, “See – ninja!”

I love him for making me laugh.  And now I love him because he’s a ninja.

My PhotoBro {the one with the Mac on his lap} is also very funny.  He is completely egotistical in a strangely endearing way.  He is random enough to bust out a foreign accent or weird animal noise at the most appropriate {or inappropriate} time.  He’s talented and wacky and a totally insensitive attention monger.  And I adore him.

Lately he’s been sparring with me for one-upping him in the “fame-ishness” department. Which is impossible, really.  I mean how could I be more fameish than someone who works at THE Library of Congress, takes amazing photographs that everyone admires, rides a bike {like a Ninja!}, is almost forty and can get away with a hair-do that looks like this:

We’ve named it the Chicken Hawk. And today I thought I’d share a video with you that proves my Photobro is pretty darn fameish. Click here to enjoy a bit of his fame!

I’m off to tackle piles of laundry higher than Ollie.  And laugh about these two guys the entire time.

Some Days . . .

Image by Kozumel via flickr

Some days I wake up with a pounding headache because my baby was up all night with new teeth and I have a head cold coming on.

Some days it rains.  Even after it rained all night.  And it is supposed to rain all day.  And even though I love the rain, I think to myself, “Why today?”

Some days I have laundry and bathrooms and floors and well, a whole house to clean, really, because I have a very special guest coming to spend the night. But my head is pounding. And with each thump of my brain, I swear I hear the toilets laughing at me.

Some days the thought of shopping for, preparing and actually cooking one more meal is enough to drive me to drink . . . a very large Dr. Pepper.

Some days my really cute baby, who does really cute things and makes really cute noises, pushes me to my limits with his endless undoing of all that I’m trying to get done.  Granted, even his undoing is cute. But still.

Some days I just want to crawl back under my very warm covers and stay there.  With my fuzzy socks and fleece pajamas on. And an eye mask to block the light. And ear plugs to block the sound.

Some days I want to get a megaphone and climb up on to my roof to shout, “No, I cannot be all things to all people!  I cannot make three dozen cookies for the Scout meeting, clean my whole house, be the homework nazi, change the poopy {and oh-so-wiggly} infant, AND make a wholesome dinner for a family of six while maintaining my cool!

Can you tell that today is one of those ‘some days’?

There, I feel better now.

Thrifted: A Manifesto

Here she is -- the other mirror I found at Salvation Army a few weeks ago.   It was love at first sight as soon as I saw the bow on top. Never mind the beveled edge on the actual mirror and the intricate detailing on the bottom. It was the bow that did me in.  Oh, and the price tag: $14.99.

I am well aware of the fact that some people find buying second hand anything disturbing.  There are some people who insist on owning everything brand spanking new.  And I have no problem with that.  Because I realize that these are the very people who give things to thrift stores. I then go to the thrift stores to find their discarded items which become my treasures.

Are you afraid to try thrifting?  Don’t be!  Don’t fear a good bargain or hidden gem!  Don’t be scared of a ridiculously low price or a small amount of work to transform something from drab to fab!

Today I gladly share with you my Thrifting Manifesto {manifesto: a public declaration of principles and intentions}:

I believe in the sturdiness of older furniture! Look for dove tailed joints, tongue and groove backing, solid wood construction and absolutely NO composite or faux wood elements. You just can’t beat furniture made the old fashioned way.

I believe that chipped, worn and a little banged up has character! Don’t over look a piece simply because it has a scratch or dent.  You can fix many slight imperfections. Some imperfections are actually a good thing.  Take a chippy gold frame, for example. The chippier, the better!And remember, all furniture gets banged up when you take it home and your children wreak their usual havoc on it!

I believe that decorative impact comes from collections and collections come from thrift stores!  If you’ve ever wanted to make a dramatic statement in your home, you need multiples! Want a gallery wall of similarly colored frames? Hit your thrift store, buy up any wooden frames that strike your fancy and unify them all with a can of spray paint before hanging! Want a wall of great plates for your dining room or kitchen? Scour the housewares section of your local thrift store, looking for all white or an eclectic mix of coordinating patterns.  Want to start collecting milk glass? Thrift stores! Brass candlesticks? Thrift stores! Cut glass? Paint-by-numbers? Baseball pennants? Yep – THRIFT STORES!

I believe that regular visits yield results! The same principle that holds for dentist visits is true for thrift stores: go often and you won’t regret it! I try to hit my round of three local thrift stores once a week or every other week when life is super busy. Many weeks I find nothing.  But then I’ll hit the motherlode another week.  And that’s what keeps me going back. The more you know your local thrift stores, their sale days {yes, even thrift stores have sales} and their inventory, the more treasures you’ll find.

I believe that there is great joy in a great transformation! The Theory of Hidden Potential is real.  And it is a learned art.  When people tell me they don’t know how to see potential in things, I tell them it starts with practice.  Buy something small and paint it a different color. Take something used for one purpose and figure out a totally different use for it. The work put into a transformation produces pride.  Are there going to be disasters? You bet.  But there are also going to be amazing befores and afters.   

I believe in saving money! And so does my Hubby.  Remember the piece I transformed for the big screen TV in the  basement?  It cost me $50 at a thrift store.  Add in paint and primer and the entire piece totaled $60.  If I were to buy a new piece for a big screen TV, I could pay anywhere between $150 at Ikea to $1500 at Pottery Barn. Call me crazy, but I think the $50 piece custom tailored to my color specifications is the better deal.

I could go on and on.  There is more to be said.  Let me know if you have ever given thrifting a try.

Maybe I’ll cover a few other thrifting topics this week.  Like clothing and shoes.  Would you go there?  I totally would!

An Art Party How To . . .

What do you do when your life is overwhelmed by a play involving costumes and a holiday involving costumes and your daughter’s birthday sneaks up on you?

You throw a very spur-of-the-moment Art Party! {thanks for the idea, Melancholy Smile}

Hannie B. turned eleven yesterday.  Wow. Eleven.

We invited four close friends over because four was all I could handle.  And four meant we could do some fun things that weren’t too cheap.

We started out by crafting a photo frame with each girl’s initial.  It was a multi-step process that took an hour and involved cutting paper, painting letters, modge podging, sanding, bedazzling and hot gluing.  It was serious crafting which meant the girls loved it. 

Next everyone got to create their own pizzas. We paired the pizzas with healthy snacks in the colors of the color wheel.  The placemats were made of drawing paper and the table was decked out with pencils, crayons and markers. Creative lunch is fun!

We spent about a half hour in the basement playing Pictionary on the chalkboard.  It had us all in fits of giggles. Then we came upstairs for ‘The Bendaroos Challenge’.

I drew a slip of paper out of a hat with a category on it and announced it to the girls.  They then had three minutes to craft something from that category out of Bendaroos.

This game was so fun! The girls worked hard and came up with some amazing creations. After we had done all the categories {sea creature, four legged animals, something with wheels, something that can fly, etc.} the girls got to take the Bendaroos home.

To end the party, we opened presents, sang Happy Birthday to Hannie B. and ate Color Wheel cupcakes.  Yum.

So don’t be overwhelmed by the thought of a birthday party.  This one was planned in about two days.  The key is a small number of guests, a few really great activities and of course FOOD. 

Happy Birthday you funny, sweet, artistic, dramatic girl.  We love you!

Green With Envy . . .

On Friday our we gave our daughter these bracelets as a good luck charm for her theatrical debut.  Don’t they just shout Emerald City? They went perfectly with her ‘Ozian child’ costume and made her feel sparkly and special.

Opening night was a hit!  Hannie B said her lines right on cue.  She danced around the stage with Munchkin-like enthusiasm, cowered at the Wicked Witch of the West with realistic fear and sent Dorothy down the Yellow Brick road with authority and charm.

It was so fun to sit in the audience and actually watch the entire play.  I was dying to see how the tornado would be created.  It didn’t  disappoint!  We went home tired, happy and proud.

Then on Saturday I got to play stage mom for both the matinee and evening shows.  It was a VERY LONG nine hours of managing 36 Munchkins, their costume changes, their stage cues, their hair and makeup, their DRAMA – and let me tell you, there was some serious DRAMA. 

Somehow I also ended up miking Glinda the Good Witch six times.  It was hilarious to see how many of the little Munchkin girls would encircle her glittered pink dress every time, watching with big eyes as I attached her microphone, got her crown on and secured and sent her on her way.  Glinda and Dorothy are THE it-girls for sure.

Saturday left me exhausted.  But Hannie B. was even worse off than me.  She could not {for the life of her} wake up for church yesterday.  So I let her sleep.  And when we got home at 12:15, she was STILL asleep.  And now we know that the Yellow Brick road leads straight to exhaustion!

Here are some snaps I took Saturday night {please disregard fluorescent school lighting}: