I Love Sundays

I love Sundays. 

I love Saturdays too – they possess their own charming appeal with birthday parties and youth sports and shopping - but Sunday always brings a leisurely, relaxed rhythm that is not rivaled by any other day of the week.  Sunday often means a late morning cruise for a drive-thru latte, popsicles in the yard, bicycle rides around the block and some kind of project strewn out across our dining room table, living room floor or grassy lawn.  There is a palpable sense of laid-back ease in knowing that the day is yours and a yearning for it to stretch out as long as possible before the hustle and bustle of Monday morning makes itself known.

When my sisters and I were younger, Sundays meant early morning worship with my Papa and Nana, where we stuffed ourselves silly with donut holes in the church kitchen and endured numerous pats on the head by the elders as they commented on how much we'd grown.  After that, we'd play outside for hours - a game of hide n' seek, Simon Says, bike rides to the park or some secret adventure where we would concoct our own rules and objectives.  I remember once we constructed an "office" (made out of cardboard boxes and old sheets) in our neighbor's driveway, and we set about collecting various insects in jars and bringing them to the "office" lab to investigate and catalogue.  Whoever was able to capture a black widow spider would be the ultimate bug-catching connoisseur - even though none of us had ever actually seen one in real life other than at the city zoo.  I will also publicly admit that we tried a few bug recipes - crushing up roly polies with sugar and eating them (gross, I know).  Other times we would play school or charades, or I would spend the afternoon totally immersed in a library book - The Dollhouse Murders, Nancy Drew or Adventures in Babysitting. 

I loved Sundays, and I still love them.

Mine have changed in many ways, yet remained identical in others.  I still play outside much of the day – but with boys instead of sisters.  I still work on projects – but they involve Lego construction and train sets as opposed to paint-by-numbers and beaded bracelets.  I can often be found sifting through grains in the sandbox while I instruct B-man how to use just enough water to create the perfect sandcastle, pulling Wee-man up and down the street in his red Ryder wagon or explaining to G-man for the umpteenth time that the 2x4s in the garage cannot, unfortunately, be assembled into an operational roller coaster.  And, thanks to my husband, I am also rediscovering my affinity for bike rides, as he just bought us an adult pair so that we can pedal around the block with the boys.  Our next mission is to find some really great bike paths to explore. 

I am so thankful every day that my kids find such delight in being outdoors.  I think they would live in a tent in the backyard if I let them.  This love of nature can be learned and respected over time, but it cannot be inherently instilled – I think you are either born an outdoorsy sort or you aren’t.  You love camping or you don’t.  You crave a salty ocean or you don’t.  You would hike all day for a killer view or you won’t. 

I think many kids are born with this natural love and instinct in them, and it often gets smothered by parents who protest or fear The Great Outdoors.  Not all parents dig dirt, and I mean dig in the “it’s cool” kind of way.  I will admit, when my kids troop inside looking like they just dug a tunnel to China and back, I sometimes gasp at the filth and run to hide my good throw pillows from the clutches of their dusty palms and soil-encrusted fingernails.  But then I remember: the pillow covers can be laundered, and their bodies rinse clean in a warm, sudsy tub. 

What nature covers your soul with, however, sticks to you forever.

It’s Monday, and I miss Sunday.  But it’ll come around again, and we’ll be waiting.


~Ralph Waldo Emerson



Up in the Stratus-phere

Ok.  So it's been a whole MONTH since I last blogged.  I know, I know.  I fell into that rut - the one where you can't think of anything to write about, you've lost inspiration and your zest for creative prose, and you feel like no one out there's reading it anyway, so who will notice the hiatus??

Honestly, I kind of needed the break, because parts of our house have been turned upside down for the past two or three weeks.  We completely repainted/redecorated our master bedroom and bath, and I have assigned my husband so many projects that he could start his own DIY show by now (if you want to know how to turn a plain 'ole door into an amazing headboard, he's your guy.)  I'm thrilled to announce that we found the perfect shade of gray for our bedroom - Stratus - and that greenish Winter in Paris turned out to be a great spa-like shade for the bathroom. 

We also finally switched from a queen bed to a king size, and I feel like I have been lounging in a high-class hotel suite for the past week.  I mean, it's the size of a small island!

Many of our friends gaped and gasped at the fact that we had three kids and were still snoozing on a queen-sized mattress.  And I have to agree, on the many, many nights that one or two small beings slept between us and I struggled to stay on my sliver of sleep space, I realized just how small it was. 

But, I have this weird nostalgic tie to inanimate objects that is completely and utterly ridiculous, and for some reason I had a hard time letting that mattress go.  It was the first one we had in our first home and moved with us three times.  It saw me through three pregnancies and three babies, all of whom slept right by me on that mattress for months into their first year.  It endured six small jumping feet and a countless number of Olympic-worthy cannonballs.  It definitely had put enough time in.  I do feel better knowing that our old mattress will undergo a restorative process and will then be donated to one of three groups in our area devoted to assisting families in need.  Another mother out there will be able to tuck her babies in at night, and that gives me peace.

Oddly enough, the three small men did not even notice the change.  They took right to the new bed, ensuring that it received a proper welcome and initiation by jumping on it thoroughly and then making a tent under the new duvet cover that minutes before had been spread out all even and wrinkle-free.  Exactly what I expected, and you know what?  The bigger bed makes my kids look smaller - almost like babies again :)  

Here are some photos post make-over, and later this week I'll share some funny stories about the small men.  They've been busy 'round here.

Happy March!

Fell in love with this lamp from Pier 1.  Got it 10% off plus $20 off that!



Our awesome crackle-finish headboard.  Made from a $30 door from Lowe's.  Yep - thirty dollars!



The chalkboard says it all. :)



Winter in Paris....is Really Green

How does that old 80s song go - it's just another manic Monday?

I stayed up way too late last night messing around on my laptop with color schemes and online virtual paint programs, trying to stumble upon the most amazing gray/silver color to adorn my bedroom walls.  Picking paint takes me FOR-EV-ER.  I thought I had finally found the perfect shade, as well as a coordinating color for the attached master bath. 

My husband went and picked the color swatch up today, and wouldn't you know, it's not even gray in real life.  It's more like a foamy greenish hue. 

What. the. heck. 

Winter in Paris.  Does this look green to you??  Exactly.  It doesn't.  But it is.

I didn't stay up wayyy past my bedtime on a Sunday night to find out I have to start all over, but wouldn't you know, that's what I'm doing.

I've learned my lesson though.  Do not trust virtual painters.  They lie.

So I'll do this the old-fashioned way.  March my paint-challenged butt up to the store and bring back about 100 paint sample strips, hold each up to the wall in various light sources, narrow it down to 95, and then start over again until I get down to about 5 colors, at which point I'll wonder if I already cast out the perfect shade in a moment of color confusion.

They say painting is the easiest, cheapest design change and to that I say maybe so, but it's also the most overwhelming.

Anyway, if anyone knows the perfect shade of gray that's neither too blue or too green, I'm all ears.

Moving on.....

Check out my new hat. 

Etsy:  MelsBellsClocheHats

You know how I said last week that I let Etsy back on my radar?  Well, I found this jewel and had to have it.  I mean, it just perks a winter day right up, and speaking of that, we're about to be deluged by some nasty February weather.  I just know this hat will make walking outside in 7 degree weather totally bearable.

Ok, maybe not, but I will for sure be fashionable.

Maybe I'll wear it to G-man's school play on Thursday, even if it doesn't fit in with the Texas theme of their performance. 

I have been trying to elicit some kind of inkling of what this play's about for weeks, begging him to show me part of a dance or sing a snippet of a song.  Nope.  All to no avail.  He's not interested in humoring me in the slightest bit.  Mum's the word around these parts on this secret play.  The only clue I have is that he's in something call Brass Wagon. 

We almost had a break-through tonight, as G-man is whirling B-man around the living room in some sort of square-dance/promenade-type routine that looks completely like two boys who can't dance to save their lives.  My husband seized the opportunity and said, "hey G-man, why don't you sing us a song from the play?  You probably need the practice, and it's only a few days away."

He immediately ceased the dancing festivities and said, "no, Dad, you don't need to practice when you're already good."

What can I say.  What the kid lacks in rhythm and timing, he more than makes up for in confidence.  He's got the brass sass part down for sure.

I can't wait for the actual performance.  I'm bringing my new hat, my camera and what I'm sure will be a one-hour long continuous smile.

Decorating 101: Welcome to Your House With Kids

I don’t know about anyone else, but something about the fresh new start of January inspires me to make changes around my house.  Maybe it’s because, after clearing away all of the Christmas clutter, you realize that you have all of this unused space.  Not that it’s really unused space.  It just looks that way because there are big gaping holes where your tree and an assortment of Santas and nutcrackers once stood.

All I know is that the vibrant splashes of color that infused my living room and dining room last month are now void, and I’m left with the January blahs in regards to interior décor.  So, I’m on a mission to perk up our nest.  This means I’ve returned to my previously-cured addiction of … dundt-dundt-duh-duh …

ETSY.

Could there be any better collection of affordable, fabulous stuff?  I find all sorts of things that I need want, and once I start it’s almost impossible to stop.  Now I will say, I’ve gotten much better at culling through the myriad of vendors and assortment of items, becoming more selective over time.  The first month I joined, I ordered so much stuff that our mail carrier actually asked my husband what the hell was going on.  I’m not kidding.  So I bought her a Starbucks gift card to (sort of) make up for all of the boxes she was carrying to our front porch in the sweltering summer heat.  She probably already thinks I’m crazy anyway because I subscribe to about ten magazines, and the other ten I get a month are from various vendors that have figured out I have a weakness for home decorating and cute children’s clothes.

***sigh***

I’m also serious about this mission to redecorate because I’m hosting a sizeable baby shower for my sister next month.  It’s her first (and it took a longggggg time), plus it’s a girl (an anomaly in our family), so it just absolutely has to be fabulous.  What is it about throwing a large party that makes you look at your house and proclaim, “major overhaul ahead!!”  I do know that it makes me get my butt in gear on projects that need to be tackled or completed anyway.  It’s a great motivator. 

To be honest, I don’t want a guest noticing that the curtain rod in our bedroom is hanging like someone swung from it, because they did.  Or that someone colored on my windows with blue Crayola, because they did that too.  Or that someone might have broken a glass sconce by throwing a rubber ball at the bathroom wall.  Oh yeah.  That one was real fun to clean up.  Microscopic shards of glass that I had to meticulously sweep and collect from inside the tub so that they didn’t go down the drain or poke me in the butt the next time I needed a soak.  Fun I tell ya.

Maybe I could leave it all as is and make it the shower theme: 

“Welcome to Your House with Kids!”

Nah. 

Because that sure wouldn’t help any of those Etsy vendors.  They’re counting on me.

Friday Night Funfest

Tonight was family dinner and movie night at our house.  The temperatures outside for the last few days have registered somewhere around 'arctic tundra' - Jack Frost has definitely settled in.  We've been wishing he would bring snow or else just mosey on back to his stomping grounds up north.  It seemed like a good evening to light a fire, order pizza (sorry, delivery guy) and huddle around the warmth for a 7 pm showing of Shrek No. 4.  I really don't remember what the actual title is.  I thought it was better than the third one, though.  The little men liked it too.  Wee-man sat in my lap the whole time and provided very amusing commentary.

I had to resist the urge to stick a marshmallow in the fire and attempt to make a s'more with chocolate chips and two Ritz crackers.  Hey, that's what I've got on hand.

Even though the lighting is lacking (as are my photo skills, although I did finally just purchase PhotoShop), I love that all of my guys are calmly gathered here in our living room at the same time.  This is quite a rarity.  Still soaking it in.

I did some literal soaking too, after the boys went to bed.  I've just rediscovered my bathtub, and I'm wondering why it took me so long.  It's been sitting there all this time, filled with plastic toys and popsicle sticks and water-friendly crayons, waiting on me to return with aromatic bath salts and foamy bubbles. It was patiently waiting for me to seize the space, stake my claim and put up the "No Boys Allowed" sign.  Well, two outta three ain't so bad.

I tried to ignore Batman and that funny little Elvis-wannabe chipmunk thing that watched me the whole time.

 

Oh, and now for the funny part of the evening.

When I checked on G-man a few minutes after he was sent to bed, he was sitting in his closet drawing pictures with Crayolas.  He asked if I would play the "I draw, you draw" game, which is where we take turns drawing a particular subject matter.  Tonight he said we had to do masks.

I am no Picasso or Van Gogh for sure, but here is what transpired on that blank sheet of white paper, and I have a feeling you'll notice the Freudian hilarity just like I did.

He says it's a mask with a sword on top.  Yep, totally see it.  Don't you?

Happy Weekend!

A Little Funny

So this is just a small, short post.

Really just good for a quick giggle.

I was putting my oldest to bed and we were having our usual nightly chat.

He said, "Hey Mom, did you know that today is R & S's birthday?"

These are the cute five-year old twins on our street, and they are brother/sister (fraternal) twins.

I said, "Oh really? I knew it was this week but I wasn't sure which day.  Did you tell them happy birthday?"

G-man said, "Uh, yeah, I think so.  But Mom, isn't it weird that they have the same exact birthday?"

Me: "Well, we talked about this before.  They're twins, remember?  They were in their mommy's tummy at the same time and they were born on the same day.  Twins don't have to be both boys or both girls.  Sometimes it's one boy and one girl."

G-man: "Mommmm, they can't be twins.  They never wear the same shirts at the same time."

He totally said this in all seriousness, so I tried my hardest not to laugh.

I love that kid, I really do.

On the First Day of New Year's My Guru Brought to Me: An Olive Leaf and Elderberry

So, this is my first official post of 2011, and I'm determined to fill up the blank blogger slate with something interesting, hysterical and/or inspiring to start the new year off right.

Anyone got any bright ideas?  Yeah, me neither.

I have to admit, for the past several days, my kids have not been so funny, my mind has not been so sharp and my mood not so chipper.  This is because, despite all the meditating, praying and hoping, I started off 2011 still sick.  I had this inner burning desire that something amazing would happen at the tick of the clock at midnight on December 31, and much like Cinderella's transformation, I would magically become strong and healthy again. 

No mono.  No sore throat.  No relentless lethargy.  No headaches.  No limits. 

Well guess what.  It didn't happen.  Damn you, Fairy Godmother.

Since she didn't come through, I made a little pilgrimage to the Sunflower Shoppe, which is the local health food store and the place to find all kinds of interesting vitamins, herbs and a dizzying array of healing concoctions.

I was desperate.  And so:  I went, I saw, I bought.  $135 worth.  No joke.  But I don't care.  I would pay $500 at this point.

Here is my daily regimen.  A few of them I take three times a day.

Don't laugh.  Because it's WORKING!  At first, I thought I was imagining it.  Like a placebo effect or something - too good to be true.  But guess what?  After only three days, my lymph nodes are considerably less swollen and my throat doesn't feel like sandpaper.  And, I'm much more energized and starting to feel lighter, happier, alive.  Amazing how your health can play such a big part in your overall mental mood.

And you know what else?  It's kind of crazy that a medical doctor can tell me there's nothing I can take or do to lessen the effects or shorten the time frame of this illness, but a vitamin/herbal expert can advise me to take olive leaf (a proven virus and bacteria fighter), elderberry extract (immune booster), superior B12 (akin to getting a B12 shot), D3 and a probiotic, and I feel like a new person after 48 hours. 

I hereby vow to never laugh at any alternative medicinal remedy a suffering soul might want to consider.  Unless it involves actually wearing the olive leaves or snorting the elderberries.  A girl's gotta have her limits.

Happy New Year!

I promise my next post will be about funny little men.  We're back on schedule and they're back into action!