Lederhosen

We picked up these lederhosen in Germany several years ago.  We were there for Christmas visiting my parents who were serving as mission presidents.  That Christmas my Dad dressed head to toe in this traditional dress, he has for every Christmas since, so, so have my boys.

Besides Christmas my boys sometimes wear their lederhosen to church.  But that is usually because I'm way behind on laundry.  You see, made of suede, these things are indestructible and never require washing, a perfect uniform for any boy.  And who can resist the cool pockets and the one especially designed for a pocket knife (Peter promised to not bring his to church).

The only problem is the uniform is a bit heavy for little guys.  George actually had a hard time walking and keeping them up.  At church the lederhosen keep falling to his feet.

Looks like I'm also behind on haircuts.  Maryanna told me that as she followed George and Henry around the house with a pair of scissors.  She told Henry his curls were starting to look like Oma's hair.  But the boys suggested the curls looked more like a Congressman wig.  George and Peter too have little mops, I actually haven't touched George's hair since I shaved it last year.  Why is it so hard for me to cut off little curls?

The curls make this guy all the funnier, he's usually in dress up of sort everyday, even if it is just carrying around a hanger as Captain Hook.  The lederhosen must have felt like costume because he couldn't contain the bounding and jumping.  Or maybe he's just celebrating his Swiss and German heritage.

A day with my girl

We have started a new tradition in our home, each month one very special child gets to go on a date with mommy.  Yesterday, after weeks of anticipation and daily inquiring, it was Maryanna's turn.  

For our special day together I had arranged private horse back riding lessons.  This was Maryanna's first time leading a horse on her own and my first time on a horse in 18 years!  I would have gotten a better picture but we were both admittedly a little nervous.  

The instructor was trained in natural horsemanship, and sensing our nerves, he had us hold our arms out to the side while singing a gentle song, this to help us breath deeper into our seats and feel the rhythm of the gait.  We were to lead solely with the gentle pressure of our legs.  This was far from the tightness of the English method that I had learned so many years ago.    

Someday we'll have horses of our own, but not until we have several more lessons under our seats.  The instructor convinced me it would serve any young girl to learn to work with horses, for if they can command a 1,000 lb half wild animal they will be sure to have the strength to hold their boundaries with the young men who seek to date them.  I never thought of that - I like that.

Back in the car Maryanna told me it was the best day of her life, she continued even with a few tears and said she was so glad she chose me as a her mother.  I guess that's what happens when children get the special attention they need.

We finished with an ice cream cone and a 30 minute ride home filled with all sorts of chatter about horses.

It is easy to get lost in the business of taking care of children. For this reason I'm glad I chose to abandon a sink of dirty dishes and piles of unattended laundry, all to remember the joy of spending time with a child.

Just this morning I once again picked up Sharifa Oppenheimer's book Heaven on Earth and read this beautiful reminder:  

Looking inward, I find that when I give myself wholeheartedly, opening into the moment with curiosity and wonder, time elongates and I surrounded with the deliciousness of Now.  Those moments that I can approach with true gratitude and wonder live somehow in the realm of timelessness.  Perhaps gratitude is one of the doorways to Eternity.  Our young children still have one foot in the Eternal, in Heaven.  We can join them there, if we give ourselves enough time.

Stuff and "the stuff" it takes to contain it

This week I've been busy dealing with "stuff".  I'm pulling it out, sorting it, throwing it out, giving it away and mostly wondering why I have to live with so much of it.  I'm also wondering why it is so much easier to bring in than to send out.

One thing I know, for as beautiful, useful and sentimental as "stuff" can be, it is equally draining.  It has taken me several moves to learn this, I'm grateful to be finally "getting it."  

It was close to 90 degrees today and I sweated through the task, I was ruthless.  The kids questioned what I was doing and I explained the concept of simplifying.  I sincerely told them how much I'd rather spend my time playing with them than cleaning up.  Some of them got it and were supportive but others are still hanging on.  

Here are my boundaries:

Each child has a small suitcase for treasures.  They also have a small metal bucket for personal toys.  Their desks contain their school work and a small locker is provided for larger homeschool projects.  All of the shared toys must fit into a set amount of bins and all of the stuffed animals must fit in the two drawers below the bunk bed (without jamming it).  Each child has a medium sized rubbermaid that they can fill with whatever sentimental stuff they wish, most of them are still pretty empty but James' is now bursting.  We weeded his out and got it securely closed and discussed the possibility of allowing a second rubbermaid for the teenage years - any thoughts?

The funny thing about this process is the temptation to bring more "stuff" in to help me.  I sent Paul to Target with a request for $200 worth of new bins and then tempted to order these three books Authenticity, Voluntary Simplicity, and Clear the Clutter.  Don't I already have a whole shelf of Don Aslett books?

The other funny thing about this process is it is hard to find cheerleaders.  Along the way there are those who accuse you, maybe not so directly, of being a "kill joy", or suggest you are "cracking early" and experiencing a mid-life crisis.  Some may make you feel guilty about the gifts they have given you and or even suggest the regret you'll someday feel.  It sometimes takes guts to get rid of stuff in the face of others.

The other issue I recognize here is it is not just about purging, every box I fill reminds of me how guarded I need to be on what "stuff" comes through our doors.  Every purchase (even a fantastic garage sale deal) needs questioning.

 I've said it here before.  May we be cautious not to fill our homes with the kind of "stuff" that can never fill our hearts, instead, may we ever be fed by the forces of life that already surround us, the kind of "stuff" that flows constant and uncontained.

And here's what Paul has to say about the "stuff" in the garage.    

Funny little kids and the things they wear

Opa bought Clara a pink John Deere hat and she has worn it everyday since.  She cried when I told her she couldn't wear it to church but agreed to leave it in the car.  Today she wore it with fairy wings, rain boots and a beautiful beaded tunic and chiffon scarf from India.  She is modeling it in "tree pose".

Maryanna also got a matching tunic and scarf.  She chose to wear her's with white capris and red cowboy boots topped with a long sleeve waffle knit "love" tee.  It was Mary's neighbor who passed on these beautiful pieces and it has always been Maryanna's dream to dress up as an Indian princess.

They spent the day playing at Uncle Bry's farm with Oma and Opa.

Henry's been dressing up like Captain Hook for weeks now.  He usually wears an eye patch and pirate hat and carries around a clothes hanger for the hook.  But today he chose to be a knight.  The armor actually served as an extra layer of protection against the nasty mosquitoes at the farm. 

In my early years of motherhood I use to carefully dress my children, layering them like Gap or Crewcuts models, as if how well my children were dressed was a symbol of what a good mom I was.  I have since moved in the opposite direction and take great joy in the early expression of their personality, or what they want to be just for the day.  This is liberating.

That said, I stand by certain boundaries such as cleanliness, modesty and reverence when our outings take us beyond simply playing.  But on the days that we play the clothes seem to be half the fun and so I am recording it here.

"A House is a House for Me"

I spent a good part of this week holding my breath on a beautiful home and property.  I am happy to announce we went smoothly under contract and it will be just weeks before we call this dream home.  I am once again breathing smoothly but now unable to sleep out of giddiness, excitement and nerves as we face this new adventure.

It is interesting how sometimes our disappointments play a part in our lives.  You see, when we missed out on the log cabin home I spent a good day crying, moping then gardening.  That was the push we needed, we expanded our search radius and Paul took me on a driving tour of 19 new homes for sale. 

Filled with children, we spent over 12 hours in our van.  We drove through thunderstorms, along all sorts of bumpy country roads and bought several ice cream cones a long the way.  At the height of a storm we finally came upon the home of our choice.  This was our last stop, probably around 9:30 pm and in the dark, drenched in rain and thunder booming around me, I tip toed around this unfamiliar property with a sense of familiarity.  I knocked on the front door then was immediately knocked off the front porch when a huge crash of thunder and lightening startled me from over head.  The owner was not home but we drove up and down the street a few times to get "a feel".  We made an appointment for a showing first thing in the morning and I was immediately smitten.

The home itself is not big, it is an old farm house but fully restored and full of charm.  We are trading room inside for room to run and live outside.  My mom is in town and when she toured it with me yesterday for inspections she called it a "child's paradise".  I love these intertwined maples and the "love swing" that sways below.

In addition there are over 20 acres complete with a barn, stables, fenced pastures, a stocked pond, vineyard, alfalfa field and garden.  I am sure the boys will be spending much of their summers doing this:

We are hoping to finish a rec room above one of the barns before winter.  We are hoping to do a lot of things but in reality we don't really know what we are doing.  That is the fun, that is the adventure and that is the dream we have been in visioning for almost 3 years now.  I can't believe it is finally upon us, it has been worth the wait.

But I'm glad I did not know the timeline that would be involved because I probably would have chickened out.  We endured living in a house on the market for 9 months (showings at least every week!), then living in my parents basement for 5 months (that was actually quite fun), and renting a small home in Michigan for 18 months (which served its purpose in teaching me I did not need thousands of sq feet to live happily).  

I can't say these months, or years actually, were lived with graceful patience on my part.  My dear sisters, friends and especially Paul were the sounding boards for my endless lamentings of feeling "unsettled".  At one point I even had a dream that I was Sariah and begun murmuring at Paul for being a visionary man leading our family into the wilderness to wander.

Somewhere along the way my sister Cheryl gave me a copy of this lovely book:

I read it often to my children and would sometimes reach both laughter and tears as we neared the end reading:

How peaches are houses for peach pits

and sometimes are houses for worms;

How trashcans are houses for garbage

and garbage makes houses for germs;

And envelopes, earmuffs and eggshells

And bathrobes and baskets and bins

And ragbags and rubbers and roasters

And tablecloths, toasters and tins....

And once you get started in thinking this way,

It seems that whatever you see

Is either a house or it lives in a house,

And a house is a house for me!

A book is a house for a story.

A rose is a house for a smell.

My head is a house for a secret, 

A secret I never will tell.

A flower's at home in a garden.

A donkey's at home in a stall.

Each creature that's known has a house of its own

And the earth is a house for us all.

I certainly learned that I can be at home anywhere on Earth, that being "grounded" is beyond a physical state.  But the greatest lesson I will take from this experience is that of the loving hand our Father in Heaven plays in our lives, that His purposes are wise and our prayers are answered.

How to Make Homemade Watercolor Cards

This post is for Paul, for next Mother's Day, with full permission to crack into my watercolors, that no tears shall ever be shed over pencil scratched Mother's Day cards.

Here's the collection we made for Paul's birthday - they were both colorful and authentic.  The kids stayed up way past their bedtime to complete them.

First step: 

Cut watercolor paper to desired size and fold card in half.  You can use regular paper but the paint will be more runny.

Next, allow each child to draw their design in pencil.

At this point they can trace the drawings with a fine tip sharpie.  Then carefully dig into the watercolor paints, keep in mind a little goes a long way.  Don't really let the kids "dig" into the paints, instead they will dip into the watery mixtures in the middle of the paint tray.

You may have noticed a naked baby in the background.  There's been a lot of that lately since I've been experimenting with elimination control with George.  Here's a strategic photo of what kept George busy while we painted.

And here are the cards, first from me, very simple but I got impatient and did not allow the sharpie adequate time to dry before applying watercolors.  The cartoon of us two turned out a blurry gray.

James opted for Prisma colored pencils for his, it tells the story of their favorite activities together.

Here is William's, an imaginary game of Michigan vs. Ohio State, Notre Dame and Michigan State.

Peter's made everyone laugh, Paul bare foot holding a billion dollar bill to purchase a 1,000,000 acre farm with a 2,483 sq ft home.

Maryanna's card tells the story of our first date, I don't think she knows the story but she made up a good one.

And Clara's card shows Paul buying me a quadruple ice cream cone on one side and the other side is of her going to a Michigan football game with him and George. 

I forgot to photograph Henry's but is was a nice stick figure drawing with blobs of paint.  These are the treasures that are worth saving. 

Big Boy celebrates 35

Just days after Henry's birthday we got to celebrate again with Paul.  The boys thought it'd be a good idea to leave the Thomas birthday banner, only slightly altering with their own Michigan football drawings- Michigan v.s. OSU in 1997, MSU in 2007, and Notre Dame in 2010.

They also were very generous in pooling some of their money together as a gift.

We all presented homemade cards and Paul was a good sport in wearing his over sized felt birthday crown.

The favorite gift was the 15 passenger van monopoly piece, one we randomly found at an estate sale just the day before.  It looks exactly like the van we drive.

Paul's dad bravely babysat on his own so the two of us could enjoy a night out and give Paul a chance to redeem all his Ann Arbor freebies.  Here he is with his half dozen Zingerman's bagels.

And here I am with way too many free treats to finish in one night.  The boys were very happy with the offering we brought home for them.

And now for a great birthday surprise from Paul's parents, a stack of Paul's earliest writings from elementary school.  In the stack we discovered the picture I drew of him in 2nd grade for his 8th birthday.  Still looks like him and yes, Paul is smart.  So happy I married this guy.  Happy Birthday Paul!