Blazed Agenda

Paper planes and cereal boxes

2018-04-10T19:50:00.001-06:00

If you're like me, you're not a craft person. I like making things for sure but if it doesn't have a purpose I can't get into it. Basically, if I can't eat it or wear it I'm out with a few exceptions. From that description, you might guess I do not like doing children's crafts. I do not enjoy the stress and mess of a project only to throw it away a few days later. My kids, on the other hand, love it, and I love that they love to create. I try to walk the middle ground with limited pom poms, pipe cleaners, paste, and paint. Glitter is pretty much banned.

When I came across these library books, I was thrilled because they seemed just the ticket. First, Air Shark!: Novice-level Paper Airplanes by Marie Buckingham (and there are three more in the series with increasing difficulty!) I'm sure any beginning paper airplane book would be good for kindergarten age, but we've enjoyed this one in particular. Most of the designs my kid can do on his own, and the ones that are too hard to get just right aren't a big deal for me to jump in on.

Here is a sample of the different airplanes my kid folded while he was supposed to be doing math. Yes, those are his math pages... (top right plane is the Air Shark featured above)

The other book we like is Explore the World with Cardboard and Duct Tape by Leslie Manlapig (more in this series too, which are currently on hold at the library for me). We tone this one down by using cereal boxes instead of straight up cardboard and masking tape instead of duct tape. Both are easier to work with, particularly for a child.

These crafts are fun because you can go all out with them or be just as successful using the trash in your "craft drawer." I bet you know which route I take. Then in a few days when the fun has run out you can chuck them and kids start all over with something new. Happy crafting! You know, if you're one of those people.

Refinishing a Piano with Stain

2018-03-17T14:12:00.000-06:00

This post should have been written months ago, but you know when you finish a project and you just want to be DONE? That was this. Refinishing the piano wasn't something I expected to take this long or be this hard. I have a very simple design upright that I was going to paint a glossy cobalt. The dream was there, but the means were not. First things first: the before pictures.

What I started with (covered in all the drywall dust because we're running 50,000 projects a day it feels like!)

Giant water stains on top. PSA: don't put plants on top of your piano especially if they're potted in terra cotta.

So done cutting my fingers on these broken keys.

Crackle everywhere.

Disassembled.

Decades of dust and about a dime's worth of change.

Super grateful my keys came numbered! If not, go ahead and write on yours. Otherwise, you're in for a massive headache.

Suggestion: two people to pull off the hammers. Scary heavy awkward fragile.

Like I said, I was going to just paint the darn thing, but my husband suggested it might be cool to stain it blue instead. After falling in love with all the wood grain in our house I couldn't resist the temptation to strip the piano first. This is where trail #1 began. I was doing this project in my house on our newly finished wood floors because this piano is a beast. It's not like modern upright pianos. It is like cast iron or whatever Mjolnir is made from. I am very new at this restoration process, mind you. I began with CitriStrip, which is a totally awesome project if you're working indoors with paint. A piano, however, is not covered with paint. So when I excitedly put CitriStrip all over the piano, it turned into this sludgy brown substance that began to ooze off the piano. Cue panic. I had the floors covered, but that's not reassuring. I began moving the detached pieces outside onto the porch. Cue crazy sudden windy thunderstorm and more panic. I quickly moved everything back in and oh so carefully did my best to clean everything off.

I don't have any pictures of this part because I was in crisis.

There was a lot of residue on the piano, but for the first time I could see the grain! Our piano was so old the varnish had totally covered it, so that was a thrilling moment. Once I had failed to remove the residue though I thought it was just how the wood looked after all and after a lot of humming and hawing decided to paint over it. After attempting twice to paint with a brush (yes, a nice one), I gave up due to all the streaks and used the CitriStrip again. This time I had faith that it would not do what happened last time because there was legit paint. I was right and stripping the wood was super easy that time. I still had that weird residue though and this time wasn't convinced it was the wood.

Attempt 1

Attempt 2 with tinted primer

Over the next few days I used a regular stripper (Klean Strip) and then cleaned the residue with denatured alcohol (thanks to this blog for saving my life!). Next time I'd like to try just denatured alcohol because it was so easy. The varnish or whatever was on this 1930ish piano was gone. Just shop rags, brass brush, and denatured alcohol. Poof!

Stripped and cleaned.

Are you still there? I'm impressed! Because that was really painful.

Then it was time to sand. I used a hand sander on the big parts, being super careful to not sand through the veneer. I was doing well...until I wasn't. I thought I was doing great getting a baby-bottom smooth surface. Turns out, when you're planning to stain you want to definitely do a lower grit than 400. You want to stick around 100 to not close off the pores of the wood. If you close the pores, the wood won't accept the stain well. So had to back track there, but not sure how effective it was.

Sanded as much as I dared

Then I had to find the right stain. I wanted something bright, which was difficult because I had a very dark wood that I had probably screwed up due to my aggressive sanding. I tried a few different stains. Unicorn Spit was cool but it hid the grain and turned green with the poly (probably because oil-based poly has a yellow tint?). I finally discovered this super cool stuff at Keda dyes. Their stuff is incredible. That's where guitars get their really rad colors from. It's very affordable too, which was great because I obviously had a huge surface to cover. The owner is awesome and helped a ton. Pro tip with these dyes: mix it with lacquer thinner and let rest for a half hour. Then dip rag into mix and add 2 drops of concentrated dye directly to the rag. As much as I loved the dye, I knew it wouldn't get that bright cobalt color I was going for, but I had made my peace with that because I understood how dark my wood was at that point.

First coats of Keda dye on bigger pieces. More coats on the end blocks.

Very dark but vibrant at this point.

Can easily see the difference in color between the veneered parts and not veneered parts of the piano.

After applying a couple (maybe 3 or more? been too long) coats of stain it was time to poly. I was trying to avoid streaks and had previous luck on one of our old window sills with a foam brush and Minwax wipe on oil-based polyurethane. It goes on thin and fast, so you do more coats but don't have to worry as much about puddling. After a few nights of that it was time to put everything back together and fix the keys. I know, you thought I was done, right? Refinishing the keys was pretty simple though. I painted the sharps with black enamel from Sherwin-Williams in high gloss. The whites I wedged off with a box cutter and glued on new ones. (Forgot to document that process) All my piano fixings I've gotten from Howard Piano Industries. They have fantastic how to videos as well. Love them.

As you can see, there's a big change in color between the sealed and unsealed stain. I wonder if that would be the case if I were to spray poly instead of brushing it on. A thought for my next attempt.

So there it is. I admit my photography doesn't do it justice. I could have gone on to buffing it, but I'm satisfied for now. First piano was quite the learning experience, and I'm excited to try again! (Next time, not all inside my house!)

Baby number 3

2016-03-15T17:17:00.001-06:00

After being five days overdue, I was getting quite impatient. However, I was so physically tired that I was dreading the literal labor ahead of me. I knew no matter whenever baby boy came I was going to have to pony up.

I had been feeling more frequent contractions all day but real labor began at five minutes apart with about one minute contractions later in the evening. They lasted two hours until we decided to head to the hospital around 8:30. The kids were asleep already and my in-laws were in town to hold down the fort.

When we arrived and got all the preliminary things out of the way (I was at an 8), contractions intensified and baby's heart rate began to drop. It was not coming back up quickly, even when the nurse started me on oxygen. My doctor suggested breaking my waters to get the baby out faster. I agreed and got on the bed.

Once she broke my water, things immediately picked up. My doctor was able to see why baby's heart rate was dropping. "You have a prolapsed cord. That's an emergency C-section," she said. (A cord prolapse is rare and occurs when the cord comes before baby, resulting in pressure, and cutting off the life support for the baby.) In an instant the room filled with nurses and I was told to not push--a very hard thing to do at that point. Before I knew it, an OB/GYN appeared and made the call that the baby was too low for surgery: his head was already engaged. The OB/GYN did an episiotomy, which I thankfully did not feel thanks to adrenaline! He placed a small vacuum on baby's head and told me to push with everything I got. Two pushes and he was out just before 11.

I don't think I breathed after delivery until I heard our baby boy cry. He was loud and healthy and after testing his cord blood, the pH levels confirmed that he experienced no distress.

From the moment my doctor said cord prolapse to baby's birth was about five minutes. The fluidity of the medical staff during that time was like an art performance. I am so grateful for the well-trained. Seriously, I just want to hug everyone who has ever helped me birth my babies.

I am still in shock at the sudden intensity of the situation but mostly grateful that our baby is perfectly healthy and I did not have a C-section (the thought of being wheeled down to the OR continues to strike panic into my heart). My doctor, who's been practicing for ten years, had only seen one cord prolapse before mine, and it was the only vaginal delivery of a cord prolapse the OB/GYN had done (an even more seasoned doctor).

Every birth is a miracle, but I know my family was being especially watched over that night. We're so happy to have our little boy.

Refinish wood floors. Check.

2016-01-05T08:12:00.000-07:00

"Do you like the floors?"
"What do you think of the floors?"
"I love our floors."
"Look at it now. It's awesome when the sun shines in."

Just a sample of my husband's beaming dialogue over the first few days we moved into our house. He's pretty proud of his hard work, and he should be. Yes, we love our floors.

There were some dark days around here for a while. So much sanding, late nights—all nights, trips to the hardware store, stain samples, etc. After a lot of help (understatement) from incredibly kind people and a ton of long, difficult hours of work, the majority of our downstairs floors are finished!

Here are some grainy pictures of what we had on our hands after sanding. You can see what they looked like before here.

The stairs are not on our immediate to-do list. Their glory will have to wait.

We met a lot of different opinions when it came to these floors. Some said to dash it all and go with laminate. I tended to ignore those inputs. Sure, it would have been easier, but it would have been four times the cost and not as pretty. I'm glad there were an equal number of people encouraging us to go for the wood. We are so happy with the results.

It was dark when I took these pictures, but when the sun shines through those windows, the floor is golden. We love all the colors and divots from its age and use.

Ignore the blue x. That's a board that needs to be fixed from below to prevent more splitting.

For those who are curious, our floors are pine. I know. Another reason many said to just forget it. We weren't concerned though. So far it has held up to plentiful runs by my toddlers' huge Tonka trucks and the occasional toy thrown over the banister from a pleasing enough height to make an ear-shattering noise. We also like the beat up look because—hello—we live in a house that's over 150 years old. So one more dent isn't going to throw us into despair. We used Minwax Early American oil-based stain with an oil-based poly (semi-gloss). I seriously cannot stress enough how important it is to test your stains. We tried nine of the twenty-six colors offered by Minwax before finding just the right one. You never know how your particular wood will take to the stain.

One project down and about seven hundred to go!

The beginnings of our first house

2015-11-20T15:36:00.000-07:00

When it comes to this house purchase, I've decided to follow a little quote I came across one day:

Being right is mostly confidence.

It's mainly humor with only a tinge of reality, but it helps.

There are times we realize we have certainly bit off more than we can chew, but we remind ourselves to take it one day at a time and keep moving forward. That's really all you can do when you're starting out with this.

Forgot to mention our house was built in 1850. It's a farmhouse, and we love it. But old houses come with "quirks"... like termite damage.

Therefore, the front part of the house gets new subfloor. The original planks had been replaced long ago, so there was no loss ripping up the other stuff.

Once we ripped out all the carpet, most of the floors in the house look like this. Painted (or stained?) floor around a permanent rug. Look at all those fun staples to pull out.

Then there's the more tedious dining room with tiny fake planks on top of the real stuff.

The key word for this house is potential. It's there, like in these awesome built-ins that made us want to see the house in the first place.

Then there's also our views. Lots of fields (with a broken deck, exposed septic tank, and random traffic cone). We'll gladly be staring at winter wheat for the next few months.

As I review all these pictures, I'm reminded we've only just begun...

Doing the Mom "job"

2015-05-10T15:34:00.000-06:00

The days when the kids are having one meltdown after another and I'm trying to cook dinner, clean the kitchen, and tend to their cries at the same time, but I am handling every moment with a calm head and warm heart, are the days when I feel really proud of myself for being a good mom. Moments like that remind me of my mom. I knew my mom loved me, but to my young self I thought being a good mom was being good at your "job." Our house was clean, she made yummy food, and we were happy. Good mom.

Obviously, moms do lots of things, but I am grateful that my mom cared about basic homemaking skills and could simultaneously keep her cool. She is a good example to me. I never understood the unconditional love that comes with motherhood when I was a child. Now that I do, I know there is more to being a mom than cooking and cleaning, but I also know those things are important. I knew my mom loved me because she took care of me. Now that I have kids of my own, I know I'll love them no matter what, but because of my own experience, I know they'll feel that love when I take care of them.

I don't look down on all those posts about ditching the housework to spend time with your kids or praising Martha over Mary. Those days are needed. I'm just saying that cooking and cleaning shows love too, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

We are mouse hunters

2015-05-03T17:45:00.000-06:00

Discovering that you have a mouse in the house is like finding out you've been lied to.

It starts with finding a few droppings. Then you notice food nibbles. All out panic ensues, and you order pizza for three nights in a row because what is safe anymore? One night an entire mouse trap disappears, so things get real and you move the oven. A giant gap between the wall and the floor that leads into a large cabinet makes you question every moment you've ever spent in the kitchen and whether you were doing the grapevine with mice or maybe you were just tripping over your own feet.

We have since anchored our traps with string and thumbtacks. One by one we are taking back our kitchen.

April's learning goal

2015-04-02T13:41:00.002-06:00

I spend a lot of my time getting excited about things to learn, but then I don't learn them because there are so many I don't know where to start. This year I've tried breaking my goals down into months. I try to do one skill every day or so for a month. This helps me decide if I really like it enough to stick it out for longer or if dabbling seems sufficient.

April is sewing. I have dreams of making my own clothes (blouses and dresses mainly) because everything I see these days is either yuck, beyond what I would ever pay, or "is this supposed to fit like this?" I know I have a lot of skill to acquire first, but I'm optimistic. At least, I was until yesterday.

This is the giant curtain I made out of a sheet to replace the vertical blinds in front of our screen door.

It was a little short.

Positive spin: the problem was in the measuring, not the sewing.

Not choosing anger

2015-03-31T20:59:00.000-06:00

Never seen the movie but like the phrase.

Anger management has never been a forte of mine, but I never really thought it was a big deal. I thought I had a healthy way of dealing with it, like deep cleaning my closet or finally doing that mound of dishes. The problem was I kept letting myself get angry, and I liked it. My anger would fester, and I liked the adrenaline and the power. It gave me motivation to do things I had struggled getting around to. I didn't mind it and accepted it as part of my personality.

I didn't see my anger as a necessary fix until I had kids. Sometimes you can walk away from situations and cool off, but more often than not you need to be present because you can't correct young children ten minutes after they've done something wrong. They need to be instructed in the act. I can't just walk away when my son hits his sister for the umpteenth time. That being said, I can't explode in the moment either. It isn't right to force my kids to handle my anger for me.

My son thought it was hilarious the day I screamed into a pillow. I didn't know what to do about my anger. I don't want my kids see it, but it gets to that point more times than I care to admit. I never understood how people (such as my husband) seemed to always keep their cool, and I didn't believe for a second that it was a choice. But you know what? It is.

It wasn't until I read this blog post about anger that I finally got it. Just like all our emotions, we choose to feel them. I choose to love my husband. Yes, I'm naturally drawn to him, but it's my choice to act on it. Anger is something I'm also naturally drawn to, but I still have the freedom to choose it. Just because it's natural, doesn't mean it's healthy.

Saying anger is healthy is like saying infections are healthy.

The fact is, dealing with infections is healthy, treating infections is healthy, preventing infection is healthy, eliminating infectious material is healthy.

-"Isn't Anger Healthy?" A Blog About Love

I was once a believer of healthy anger, but if you feed it by venting or violence, it will never go away and will actually escalate. (Read more about venting here.) I think sometimes we confuse venting with healing, as if dwelling long enough on the emotion will purge us of it, but it's only kindling to the flame.

I want my children to listen to me, not fear. There are hard moments every day, but I am the one who chooses to make them bad or good.

Garden update: dreams vs. reality

2015-03-21T05:52:00.000-06:00

A photographer I am sadly not, but here is the beginnings of my pea plant.

Gardening is as full of the unknown to me as space sometimes: I get the basics, but does it all work that way, really? I mean, how crazy is it that you plant a tiny seed and in a few weeks you have food? It's a miracle. And I am of the black thumbs who believes it would take a miracle for me to actually achieve the status of "gardener." I am trying for the first time this year in real honest to goodness dirt, not just potting soil in a pot.

I keep having this vision of walking out into my little garden and being surrounded by snap peas, basil, tomatoes, and everything else I've planted this year. My own little Hoosier Eden is only a month away, right? So far, the majority of my plants have sprouted. I'm still waiting for the lettuce, green beans, and peppers to make an appearance. Meanwhile I'm still digging up my yard to get rid of all the rocks, dead leaves, and weeds, and hoping I don't find a dead body of some sort in the process. Anyone else watch too many crime shows and have that fear?

How to start your spring cleaning

2015-03-12T18:24:00.001-06:00

The beginnings of my garden. Grow, Arugula. Grow.

It's an adrenaline rush to feel that first hint of warm weather. The heat is already setting into southern Indiana, and I'm ecstatic for my first Hoosier summer.

For some reason the whole ordeal makes me want to throw everything outside and hose it down to wash away the winter muck. Sadly, I have to put on my big girl gloves and do things the "right" way. But I get through spring cleaning with these things:

Better Life cleaning products. I saw them once on Shark Tank and have never looked back. Their floor cleaner smells so good, I honestly feel I look as poised as Cinderella when she mops the floor. Plus, all their products are extremely safe, which is great because my toddler gets into the cabinet under the sink more times than I care to admit and sprays whatever bottle he can get to first. Luckily, it's always this one.

SeedsNOW.com has been so fun to try this year! The $0.99 sampler seeds are perfect for an average-sized garden. They sent some arugula seeds along with my first order, which is something I never thought to try. So far it's in the lead. They have so many fun things to buy. I'm particularly excited about this crazy broccoli.

That's all I've got. That's all I need (not counting snacks and jams, but everyone knows about those). Get ready, folks. Spring is coming.

Getting to know my children

2015-03-04T21:31:00.000-07:00

The other day while playing with my baby girl, she responded differently to me. I can't explain the experience well, but it was like an understood exchange between us--a leap in cognitive development. And in that blip I was suddenly reminded, "Oh yeah, she won't always be a baby." It was thrilling. While I love her present baby stage, I was happy to be reminded that I am getting closer to knowing her a little better.

I often think about the future with my children. I get so excited pondering the things they'll accomplish. I'm not talking about being a star of anything but just doing things: tying a shoe, reading a book, taking a hike, cracking an egg, singing a song, etc. It's fascinating to witness my children just being. In that growing body is a person I've created but really have no idea who they'll become. I'm anxious to find out but am enjoying the in between process.

Her lullaby

2015-01-06T19:48:00.000-07:00

I sing this song to my daughter at least once a day. A whimsy aesthetic is always welcome in a lullaby. I love how the tune calms her 90% of the time. It's like magic, and it works for me too. Singing it repeatedly is a good reminder for me to take things in stride: "Whatever will be will be. The future's not ours to see." Oh, how I wish it was, yet so many times I'm glad it is not.

I'm grateful to live in the present. Every day I can find a moment that makes me feel so blessed to be here right now, and then time passes into tomorrow. The moments are fleeting, which occasionally brings paralyzing fear and sadness that I will one day forget them all or have future ones taken away from me. I'm relieved that knowledge isn't unfolded to me so I can revel in the sweet smell of my baby, the laughs of my toddler, and the hugs of my husband, every day but especially today. I need those reminders that today matters and not just what I need to do tomorrow or what I want to accomplish in the next ten years. In this case, ignorance is bliss.

Que sera, sera.

Hi, Baby Girl

2014-08-02T09:48:00.000-06:00

Happy birthday, Baby Girl

One of my biggest concerns with birthing baby girl is that I wouldn't arrive at the birth center on time. My first baby came under seven hours from first contraction ever felt in my life to birth. I only pushed for forty minutes. I was told that babies only come faster with each one you have, so I felt justified in my angst.

At a little before four in the morning the day baby girl was born I woke up with contractions. I was able to sleep in between them, and they came every twenty minutes. I did my best to relax and breathe through them. At around six I decided to get up and begin the day. I showered, did laundry, etc. I didn't think I was going to have my baby that day because my labor was progressing slower than my first. I was trying to be patient.

I had an appointment that afternoon at the birth center for a non-stress test since I was one week overdue. By the time I needed to leave, my contractions were so close and strong I didn't want to drive myself there. Luckily my husband had stayed home that day, and we were able to have a family member watch our little boy at the drop of a hat. We grabbed the bag and car seat and headed out the door.

When I got to the birth center, my contractions picked up in speed and strength significantly. The midwife measured me, and I was a ten. Good thing I had an appointment, or else I don't know when I would have made the decision to come in. It was only about a half hour ago that my contractions were still on average twenty minutes apart.

I was escorted to my birthing suite where I stripped down and stepped into the tub. I got on my hands and knees and almost immediately began to push. Baby girl had been quite a mover my entire pregnancy, and while I tried my best to keep her turned anterior, she always preferred posterior. So posterior she came, and it was the most excruciating pain I have ever experienced. With every push, it felt like my tailbone was being smashed to pieces. I screamed and thought I would pass out from the pain. I clenched my husband and said, "Oh, God."

But in ten minutes it was all over. I was lucky. Baby girl was born, scooped out of the water, and placed in my arms. I sat in the tub and held her with so much relief. There is no feeling in the world comparable to that first moment after birth. Nothing can touch you.

Although it was so very hard, I'm grateful I could have another natural birth. I was really proud of myself for being able to breathe slowly and focus on bringing oxygen to my baby for the entire labor. It helped keep me calm. There's nothing like experience to help things go more smoothly the second time. As always, I feel midwives are some of the most remarkable people on earth. I'm glad they could help me so efficiently, professionally, and lovingly in my time of need. They are wonderful.

It's nice to be done with the waiting game and finally enjoy being a family of four.

Peter Pan: learning about a mother's love

2014-07-18T09:55:00.000-06:00

I've been thinking a lot about mothering lately. My toddler gets older every day with new challenges, and baby girl is due next week. I know it's just the beginning, and sometimes the pressure of doing things right from the start gets to me. It's nice to be reminded that my love is enough, which is probably why Peter Pan has been one of my favorite things lately. I knew mothers played a key role in the story, but the emphasis had never struck me until recently.

When the Darling children arrive in Neverland, it is the motherly Wendy who receives all the attention. The boys feel the need to build her a house, a place where she is protected and treasured, and then they break into song about her.

Oh what pleasure
She'll bring to us
Make us pockets and sing to us
Tell us stories we've been longing to hear
Over and over!

She'll be waiting at the door
We won't be lonely anymore
Since Wendy
Lovely Wendy's here to stay

We have a mother,
At last we have a mother!

Throughout the story Wendy does these things and much more (like taking pleasure in giving the boys their medicine). She is the embodiment of tenderness as a motherly figure to Peter and the boys. They want someone to care for them. It's as simple as that. There is no criticizing of her ability or lack thereof. She is their mother, and that's all they need.

I know there are many things to be done to be a "good" mother, but all those things stem from the love I have for my children. It can't be measured or compared to other mothers' love, which makes it difficult to know if you're doing everything "right." The most I can do is my best and not judge others, whether those judgments be positive or negative. I am here for my children. When I waste energy on what I think others are doing better or worse than I am, it's taking away my focus from my own children, my ability to love them in the way they need.

In the end, it is Wendy's memory of her own mother's love that draws the children and the lost boys back home to London. I don't think there is a better scene than when the children are reunited with their mother and father in the end, and then the nervous lost boys are equally just as welcomed. There really "could not have been a lovelier sight."

When Peter Pan, the lost boys, and the Darling children speak of mothers, it is always of their own mother. They each defend her as the best, even brag, despite most of them not knowing what their mother was even like. Their faith in their mother's love was all that they had. It made them individuals and confident because they knew that somewhere someone still loved them.

I am grateful for the many wonderful years I have to raise my children. May my love match their faith.

How to raise a girl

2014-07-01T16:59:00.000-06:00

I am about a month away from having baby #2: a girl. Raising children in itself intimidates me at times, but raising a girl has always worried me more than raising a boy. I'm grateful that our little guy came first because he has given me the time I've needed to prepare for his sister. Now that I've overcome my initial doubts (for the most part) of my ability, I'm excited to have a girl and feel more confident in raising her, knowing all the while there will be plenty of situations when I am clueless.

Besides all the basics of raising a good and well-rounded human being, I'm excited to teach my daughter how to honor being a girl. I am a believer of gender roles, but they were hard for me to understand for a while. I don't think I fully grasped them until I had been married for a year or more. I struggled with feeling "second" a lot, especially while single in college. I did my best to accomplish what I thought were really great things, but to others those things didn't seem to matter as much as who I was dating. It made me feel like I wasn't succeeding at anything because I wasn't married. I hated it and became a bit misandrist. I hated that I felt I was the one who was different and had to adjust my ways to be more appreciated. Being feminine was weak and embarrassing to me.

It took a lot of humility, self-reflection, and learning to understand how wrong I was. I had to reshape how I saw the world instead of how I thought the world saw me. No one was actually telling me that being feminine was demeaning but me. I was my own worst enemy, but the harsh mental battle made me delve deeper into my struggles and more fully resolve them. Now I respect and love the differences between men and women. They are equalizing, not polarizing. Realizing and accepting those differences strengthened myself and my marriage, and I know that as I continue to raise my family with these truths my children (both boy and girl) will be strengthened as well.

I'm going to raise my girl to honor being a girl. I am looking forward to making her dresses and watching her bounce down the hall in them and will be just as thrilled if she takes up blacksmithing like her papa. Being strong and compassionate are not a paradox. She needs to know that being a girl is a wonderful thing, and she shouldn't ever be ashamed of it. I want her to embrace her femininity, be proud of her gender by being true to herself, and not ever feel like she is second to a man but beautifully and perfectly different because that is the way God created us.

No screen time for the littles

2014-05-20T15:26:00.000-06:00

I want to preface this post by saying I am not judging anyone! This is just how I believe in raising my kids.

Moving on.

A lot of people comment about my little one's overall relaxed behavior. Although he's a wild boy who is constantly on the move at a sprint, he knows how to sit still, be patient, and entertain himself. Tantrums are rare around here, and communication gets easier every day. I'm sure there are many factors, including just plain luck, but I honestly attribute part of his behavior to the fact that I don't turn on "his favorite show" or let him play "educational games" on the iPad.

I recently read this great article about children and screen time, and this quote essentially sums up my reasoning regarding my baby and why I raise him the way I do:

Between 0 and 2 years, infant's brains triple in size, and continue in a state of rapid development to 21 years of age (Christakis 2011). Early brain development is determined by environmental stimuli, or lack thereof. Stimulation to a developing brain caused by overexposure to technologies (cell phones, internet, iPads, TV), has been shown to be associated with executive functioning and attention deficit, cognitive delays, impaired learning, increased impulsivity and decreased ability to self-regulate, e.g. tantrums (Small 2008, Pagini 2010).

My level of motherhood experience is extremely low, but in my 18 months "on the job" I can already see the benefits of keeping screen exposure to a minimum for my child. I love our home being low media, and I'm very protective of it. I love that my little boy can keep himself busy for hours building with blocks, "reading" books, playing cars, helping me with chores, coloring, doing puzzles, exploring outside, and whatever else he finds interesting that day. I know these activities are building his independence and ability to learn, and I love seeing his creativity blossom from them.

Challenging yourself

2014-05-15T18:12:00.000-06:00

Stourhead Garden

My thoughts lately have been focused on doing things that are hard. I'm talking about decisions, not unpreventable misfortunes. What are the necessary miseries in life? What are the things we need to endure that make us stronger? Sometimes it's difficult to know if I'm doing what's right when it's making everyone, including myself, miserable.

Challenging myself has never been easy. I always feel like I've made the wrong decision when things get hard or that I'm not good enough and should have never given myself such ridiculous expectations. When I make a weighty decision, I usually feel I have chosen the right path. But some paths don't turn out the way I thought they would. They don't seem bad to begin with. They even seem great, which is why I initially made the choice. But then that one decision takes over my life like a storm, and I quickly come to the point where I don't care how much I have to leave behind to get out of it, as long as I can find shelter. Only until the storm has passed can I finally evaluate with a level head.

Recently I made a decision where there were very few moments I actually enjoyed what I was doing. Even though the product was good, the process was one stressor after another that wasn't worth my time or the money, but even now I can't say I regret it (although I wouldn't do it again!). It was a valuable learning experience for me, and it changed the way I see myself for the better.

I learned many valuable lessons through this experience, but one of my most meaningful is knowing that just because consequences are sometimes hard, doesn't mean I made the wrong choice. My life may have been temporarily thrown out of balance because of this decision, but the experience helped me to realize and more firmly establish my priorities and know what I want and of what I am capable. Ironically, the experience brought more balance to my life, and for that I am grateful.

What to do with all those wedding cards

2014-05-09T20:51:00.004-06:00

I know some people are attached to the wedding cards they've received, but I'm not. I saved a few in my journal and the rest went in a shoebox. I wasn't sure what to do with them. It seemed so wasteful to throw them all away, but I didn't want to save them in a cutesie little booklet that I knew I would never look at again either. Then I came up with an idea: reuse.

Wedding cards are expensive, especially when you add the cost to the gift you've already bought for those being happily wed. I'm a saver over here, and while I like to celebrate and give gifts to people for their wedding, I always hate getting a card. Cards are not worth the money to me, so reusing our old ones was my perfect solution. I went through the shoebox and separated all the cards into what could be reused and what could be thrown out.

The ideal reusable cards are the ones with paper inserts. All you have to do is rip off the old insert, use that as a template to make a new one, glue the new insert in, and you have a revamped card. And if you really want to, you can save the original message written.


Original card

Former insert

New insert (I did not take the time to write or type all that
was included in the original card because that's just too much work for me.)

I have saved us at least $100 in weddings to come by reusing our cards. When there's a wedding coming up, I select a card, insert a check or put the card in the gift bag, and call it a day. No extra cost to me. I love it, and it's so easy to take an afternoon and get them done in a jiffy.

So if you've still got your wedding cards collecting dust, put them to work for you! You'll clear out some storage space and save a few bucks. Win-win.

Our "simple" life

2014-02-26T20:53:00.001-07:00

The Lake District, England

I am one of those people who loves rustic, hard work and totally romanticizes things like farm living. Some would call it the simple life. Although "simple" and "easy" are often used interchangeably in most language settings, they are not interchangeable when "life" is tacked on after them. The simple life is mostly never the easy life. That is why I could never actually run a farm, but I might tackle a few chickens someday.

I think everyone has their own version of the simple life. Whether you make your own clothes but drive an electric car or you buy your clothes but grow your own food, everyone has a little something that alludes to ye olden days.

To name a few, mine consists of making food from scratch, cloth diapering my babies, and line drying clothes—all of which I actually enjoy. (I wash our dishes by hand too, but that is not a choice. We just don't have a dishwasher). But those things take time and effort, and when you feel pressed for both, all those "simpler" things end up being harder things.

And that's about when I need to take a deep breath and "rebalance."

Despite my overall delight in it, our family lives a "simple" life mostly because it's a frugal life. We could spend more and buy things that make life easier now, but for us that would be a step backward because we would no longer be saving for our future.

The simple life may be a harder life, but it's a good life. We have money for everything we need, a little for what we want, and plenty in savings for everything we dream.

So here's to our simple life.

What's yours?

Friends are part of the balance

2014-02-15T16:11:00.000-07:00

Balancing things has never been my strong point. I'm more of a juggler—a lousy juggler who drops things. But I'm trying to change, so I made this nifty chart to try and make things easier on myself.

Concept via Dave Ramsey

I could work on every one of these categories, but for now I'm just going to tackle the worst one: social.

You picked "hanging out with friends" to be your goal? I know. But it's my hardest. Really. I love to be productive (read: super busy), and for some reason my mind never counts spending time with friends as productive. But every time I do, I love it. It makes me a happier person, and then I always say to myself, "Why don't I do this more often?" I just don't. And then I spend my weekends wondering why I don't have any friends. Go figure.

So it's my goal this year to invite people over at least once a month. I'm really striving for twice. I know it may not seem like much, but trust me this is a huge step.

Bonus to this goal: my front room will get picked up at least once a month too.