Pillows and Party Favors

I recently made some playful pillows to liven up this pair of old blue Kittenger chairs.  The chairs were picked up at a resale shop in Salt Lake City just after Henry was born.  I fell in love with their sturdiness and the design but the upholstery has seen better days.  After full inspection I discovered they were originally from the Governor's house in Salt Lake City, probably from the early 80's.  Someday we'll recover them but for now they serve as a perfect landing pad for kids to jump on (which they literally do, bonding straight off the landing from halfway up the stairs).  These pillows were intended to absorb some of the wear and tear going into the chairs.

The playful print is from Ikea as is the stripe fabric that backs them.  With the leftovers I was able to make some party favors for Henry's birthday outing to the zoo with cousins.

I filled them with snacks to eat along the way.

Unfortunately this great idea did not come to me until the morning of the outing so I only was able to finish the two for our special party guests.  The pattern was based off some little scripture bags I had made for James and William years ago.  Marie' has recently posted those instructions here.

The kids had fun celebrating Henry's birthday at the zoo but I admit I had my hands full shuffling all their goodies out of my purse, I finally got the rest done and will use them for both church and our zoo outings.

The boys are made out of some old denim I had on had and the girls' were all made from the pillow scraps.  The names are embroidered on by my sewing machine.

I like that the party favor was the actual bag but as we were sewing them Maryanna asked, "for my party I don't want to make anything, let's buy everything instead".  

Look who's 3!

Henry had a birthday a few weeks ago.  I love how he is growing right into the mix of his big brothers.

The girls helped me make some experimental muffins to suit his allergies and sensitivities.  These are wheat free, sugar free and egg free chocolate chip muffins.  I can't say they tasted good but good little Henry's been eating like this all the days of his life so he didn't complain.

We pulled out the old birthday candle train that Oma got for us in Germany years ago.

Henry got a training bike and he spent most the day practicing on it.  We later spoiled him with a trip to Build-a-Bear where he picked out a football playing tiger.

Happy Birthday Henry!  You have blessed our lives in so many wonderful ways already.

Garden Therapy

I fell in love with a log cabin home this week only to find out there was a miscommunication with the realtor's office and we were a day late for best and final offers.  

I had a good cry then decided we might as well plant a garden right here, where we are, now.  Digging in the dirt felt good. The kids had fun as well.  

We may or may not still be living here to enjoy the harvest, there is also a good chance of it flopping. But digging in the dirt was a simple reminder that Earth is my home, no matter where I am in the world or the shape of the roof that shelters me.  Home is not where I plant my "stuff" but where I plant my heart.

That said, finding the right place for our family to settle in has been trickier than I thought it'd be.  But I feel optimistic that there is something special just around the corner and until we find it, I'll stroke my patience with a little garden therapy, digging in the dirt with the happy little people that surround me.    

Curry Chicken Salad

We usually roast two chickens a week because it is easy and serves for more than one meal.  This curry chicken salad was our latest experiment (experiment in seeing who would or would not eat it).

Whenever I try a new dish I usually consult multiple recipes then pull them together in a way I think it may work for my family (both for food allergies and pickiness).  Foodily is a great site for comparing recipes. 

Here is our version of the Curry Chicken Salad:

Start with the leftovers from two roast chickens and pick off all the meat (this always reminds me of my grandma).  Most recipes will say discard the bones but I say keep them and make stock.  

The dressing is a combo of plain yogurt and mayo (actually we are currently using Vegenise because of an egg allergy).  To this combo add some salt, fresh lemon juice, curry powder (just a 1tsp will do) and a bit of honey, go by taste.

Gently blend this until smooth and carefully mix it with the chicken.  Also add cilantro, shredded carrots,  green onions, celery, and raisins.  If we could tolerate nuts I'd have added toasted cashews or almonds.  And for further variation you could add fresh grapes, currants or apples instead of the raisins.  I often tell my children food is more than the taste, it also involves color combinations, aroma, temperature, texture and the love you put into it.  This dish includes all those variations.

I am recording this as a successful meal because everyone liked it.  For that reason I used up all the chicken and made it two days in a row for lunch (and the broth made a lovely soup for dinner tonight too).  

Skirt with Petticoat

Here is a skirt that was made for Maryanna several weeks ago.  It was refashioned from a long 6 tired skirt and night gown.  Sometimes I forget to take before pictures because what starts as a little experimenting quickly turns into the finished garment, totally different from the originals.

I used a pattern from this Japanese pattern book.  Here is the petticoat underneath, this part was made from the nightgown.  Maryanna does not really like the petticoat though so this skirt  does not see as many wears as I had hoped.

For that reason I'm backing off of kid sewing for a while.  I tried to convince Maryanna to wear the skirt with a different shirt but that became a little battle.  But in the end it kind of looks good with the two shirts she chose to layer.

Sometimes she even chooses to wear this skirt over jeans.  I am ever amused by the interesting ways she combines her clothes, did anyone notice what she wore for our family Easter egg hunt?  I can't wait to teach her how to sew and see what creations she will produce.   

Memorable Mother's Day

I woke up this morning to beautiful sunshine mixed with the smell of bacon.  Paul had planned a very special breakfast and James was by his side in the preparation.  I was told that James suggested Paul stick to dish washing duties because even though he was only 11, he had more experience cooking and knew just what foods I would or would not eat.  The eggs were just how I liked them, sunny side down and little runny, but it was Paul's brilliant idea to serve them with bacon and cheese on top of some garlic naan (from Deep Foods, deep in the freezer).

Maryanna presented her gift upon stumbling out of bed - keeping it from me has been torture, I've seen her wrap and re-wrap it then hide it several times throughout this past week.  It was a lovingly made hemp necklace wrapped with FIMO beads.  She made it during one of her quiet times and then baked it with the help of her older brothers.  I love the self initiation she took in the creating it and I love even more her enthusiasm in giving it - it was heartfelt.

The boys made some cards for me but they were heartfelt in a different way.  One did not even have a picture and simply read in pencil scratched handwriting:

Happy Mother's Day, you are a great mother because you try to keep us healthy.  Even though I don't like all your foods you are still a good mother.

And another winner:

Happy Mother's Day, I really think you are the world's  best mother.  You are really fun to hang out with.  I do wish that you would not get frustrated with me, but it's okay.  We all are human.

Can I admit this past week was rough?  Can I admit it was just this week that I swore at my kids for the first time?  Can I admit to also throwing my cell phone across the kitchen?  "We all are human", right?  Can I admit that as much as I cherish motherhood it is not easy?

I recognize Motherhood as a path of transformation, as I believe it has been divinely designed as such.  I also recognize there is no easy road to transformation. 

Along the path my children serve as guides and at times my mirror.  This recognition is humbling and the temptation along the way is to "beat myself up".  For me, this temptation always seems to surface right around Mother's Day and in the past I have spent many of these special days silently feeling guilty for all that I "am not" for my children.  It was the surfacing of this guilt that probably fed the rough week.  

I admit I cried and felt horrible from my boys' cards.  But that was a gift, I didn't have to spend this Mother's Day silently guilty, I could openly evaluate and voice my emotions.  Paul was kind in his reassurances but the real healing occurred as I was encircled in the warmth of love from my own mother, Paul's mother and a very dear friend.  What a blessing and support we can be to each other, us women.

My mom laughed with great heart when I read her my cards.  The first thing she said after catching her breath was, "look at that, you have taught your children great honesty".  Still uncomforted and unconvinced, she offered me this:  "I use to think I failed at times too, but it is not until you see the next generation that you can fairly judge yourself as a mother,  I am now very pleased with the way my children are raising their children".  Here is a picture of my mother on her very first mother's day, this is one of my favorites.

After chatting with my mom for a bit I felt better but getting the kids ready for church did not leave quiet space for emotional closure.  Peter could not find any clean church pants but was easily convinced to wear lederhosen by telling him that is what Presidend Utchdorf probably wore to church when he was a boy. Still, I beat myself up by saying should have finished the laundry this week.  

The girls did have clean dresses hanging but none of them were ironed.  I grabbed a pair of dresses and quickly touched them up only to meet Maryanna's refusal to wear matching dresses.  I get that, but pleaded just for this one day.  When her refusal turned to refusal of every other dress suggested I offered to blow dry her hair as a peace offering.  When she refused that I didn't beat myself up but instead threw the hair dryer to the floor so hard it busted.  Paul stepped in and somehow got her and Clara dressed in their matching dresses. 

Henry then appeared with swollen eyes from some sort of an allergic reaction.  It was decided to keep him home from church.  He played quietly beside my bed while my kind friend on the other side of the country patiently offered support on this less than special Mother's Day.  

We discussed how hard we are on ourselves as women.  Could we really accept the offering of unconditional love from those around us if we can't even offer it to ourselves?  In turn, we cannot offer out something we do not even hold ourselves.  And when we do hold this, this knowledge and recognition of who we truly are as women, why do we seek validation from outside ourselves?  These are the thoughts I was left pondering.  I did so in the face of a sun filled window on the edge of my bed.  

It was quiet, and I felt renewed and peaceful.  Henry had fallen asleep on the other side of my bed and as I stroked his back I discovered that while I was chatting with my friend he had wet my bed.  But because of my quiet meditation this episode of the day left me unmoved and I allowed him to continue sleeping.

The kids were quick to find me when they returned home from church, I received them with open arms.  A few minutes later it was discovered that little George had removed him diaper during his nap and I'm happy to report that again, I remained unmoved from my peace and that was the last misfortune of my Mother's Day.  

We loaded into the van and headed to Nanny and Poppy's house.  The boys had created some heartfelt cards for Nanny (I believe Paul had a little chat with them about card etiquette) and Paul presented his very special gift.  It was a copy of an article he recently wrote in her honor.  She was moved to tears as I was in just watching her read it.  I told her how lucky I was to enjoy the fruits of all her faithful mothering in Paul, and what a great example and support she is to me in helping me with my own children.  This she does with both her hands and her heart.  Here she is with Paul posing on the "Home Court".

Paul's mom gave me a very thoughtful card and some flowers.  But what touched me more than anything was the story she shared about the time she purposely shattered a plate of spaghetti at the dinner table out of frustration.  At that moment I felt a kinship, not just to Paul's mom, but to all women.  None of us are perfect but we are in this together.  And that is exactly why I offer the honesty of my actions and thoughts that surround this Mother's Day.  

I will no longer look at this holiday in expectation of being showered with praise, honor and gifts.  Instead, I'll watch it with honor for both the painful and blissful moments that all women have collected over the ages and not just of those who have borne and raised children.  Because motherhood is not a single journey but a banding together of all women.  And who is it that we (collectively as women) are called to raise and care for?  the world.  Because that is what we are divinely capable of.  

These are the beautiful thoughts that filled my mind while looking out the window on our long drive home.  These are the conclusions that have made this Mother's Day not special but spectacular.     

After returning home and cleaning up a small puddle of dog pee (okay only one more small misfortune of the day), I reread the cards from my boys.  I choked up on this second reading, in the realization that the love these boys offer me is unconditional, they love me in full view of my faults.  For this I will feel joy and recognize I must be doing something right as a mother, but I also recognize it took the support and strength of other women, so loving offered, to recognize this.  

To this I say Happy Mother's Day to all!    

Water Hill Music Festival

An impromptu drive after church led us to the Water Hill Music Festival.  It was kind of like trick or treating or yard saling, going house to house and following signs, but the treat and treasure was live music.  And what a treat it was, there is nothing like live music to enliven the soul.  I love the way the girls instinctively starting dancing without a trace of self consciousness, actually I'm quite jealous of that and sometimes wish I had the courage to let it out some place other than kitchen while cooking and cleaning.  

So here we are perched on some one's front lawn enjoying the beautiful day and enjoying the music.

What I love about Ann Arbor and events like these is the sense of community.  I love that we bumped into both old and new friends at this event.  Here we are around the May Pole, it was a nice tangled mess when we were through but certainly fun in both the making and untangling.

The girls had their noses down in the flowers along the way but we urged them only to pick the dandelions.  I was dripping with them around my face and in my hair before we were too many blocks into the event.

So engrossed in the music, we seemed to lose track of time and even remember that it was fast Sunday and we should have been starving.  We even forgot where we parked but didn't mind wandering around the music filled corners.  Instead we dreamed and talked as we walked, of starting our own family band, each calling out their instrument of choice after observing them in action.  

Though our home may be void of musical talent, we've now got the urge and guts to collect a few instruments to experiment and just have fun.  Thanks for inspiring us you great musicians of Water Hill!