I Can Do It Myself!

Creating at a new location!

2015-09-09T20:33:00.001-05:00

I have loved having this creative outlet. One day, I hope to start blogging here again. But until then, I have enlisted some blogging help and have started up a blog with my sister. I do some creating, some pondering, some picture-taking and have been having lots of fun. Come check it out!

Two sisters eliminating the Fear Of Missing Out one blog post at a time.

I Can't Do It Myself Experiment #2: Homemade Amish Cottage Cheese

2014-04-14T08:06:00.001-05:00

Community. It's been a concept on my mind for the past couple years. In the last several months, as I have realized how much I can't do myself, it's been suffocating me, weaseling its way into nearly every thought. What is community? What is my community? Do I even have a community? Is community defined by geographic location? Or is community defined by ideals and values and shared interests? Or is it both? Can it be both?

Growing up in the wind tunnel prairie town of Watertown, South Dakota, I was obsessed with trees. No, not forests. Those don't actually exist in South Dakota until you run into the Black Hills National Forest (and by then you're almost not in South Dakota anymore). The closest we get to "forests" are these odd looking things called "shelterbelts" or "windbreaks," unnatural looking, eerily linear groups of trees started back in 1934 to protect animals, people and crops from the extreme wind and snow and the extensive soil erosion exacerbating the Dust Bowl. They rudely punctuate the smooth flowing plains, looking a lot like someone tried to bury a gigantic comb, teeth side up, and quit halfway through.

I was always a bit unnerved by shelterbelts. The trees seemed so...indistinguishable. To my young, restless and recklessly independent mind, they were a metaphor for growing up in big-town South Dakota [FYI: Watertown (population 20,000) was NOT a small town; that was Bonesteel (population 280)]. While I loved growing up in Watertown for so many reasons, I always felt trapped in what I felt was stifling homogeneity.

Experiment #16: Reusable "Paper" Towels, Fancy Cups and Messy Clothes

2014-03-27T01:44:00.000-05:00

Practicing Imperfection

So this isn't one of my typical experiment posts. But I'm having one of those days...one of those months. Where I feel the weight of my responsibilities acutely, piercingly. There is a constant sense that regardless how carefully I consider things, how much I seek and pray and listen, how much I research, analyze and discuss, that someone important will disapprove. Someone whose opinion matters will think I have miscalculated, misjudged, messed up.

Someone will misunderstand me. Someone will think I am incompetent.

I have a fervent need to understand others and be understood. This intense need drives me to ask lots of pointed and direct questions and has managed to cause both the majority of conflicts and resolutions in my life. Consequently, it really bothers me if someone has been hurt by me or thinks poorly of me (or if I even think they might be hurt by or think poorly of me) because they misunderstood something I said or did. I have even been known to get out of bed at 3am to compose an email of explanation and apology to an offended party.

While this may seem like an excellent quality, much of that intense need to clear up misunderstanding is that I am afraid to be thought incompetent. I need people to know that I didn't intend to hurt them. I need them to know I have thought through and researched my decisions. This unrealistic need affects what I am willing to share. For example, "Christian" has come to be associated with so many things unrelated to what I live, I have a particularly hard time discussing my faith without first providing sufficient context. I just need people to understand, if not support, my decisions.

But if I'm really gut-level honest, it's not the fear of being thought incompetent that drives much of what I do, but the fear of actually being found incompetent.

Because then someone will know I am actually incompetent.

READ MORE »

The new me!

2014-03-26T23:13:00.001-05:00

While I am polishing up my next post, I thought I would share my recently created avatar! See, I have some pretty amazing friends. Friends who have gifts of creativity, generosity and kindness that leave me in awe and inspire me to be more creative myself. Corby is one of those people. I've known him now for...whoa...almost 15 YEARS!? He never ceases to amaze me with his quick wit, insightful and dry sense of humor, and the uncanny way he uses a pen and paper (both through words and illustrations) to represent the world. He noticed that I needed a better online presence. And like magic, here she is. I love her...me.

A few years ago he created this amazing Fairy Princess Nora for her 3rd birthday.

I've worked with Corby both as a friend and in a professional capacity. He is truly gifted. And humble. And I think he's genuinely unaware of the extent of his talent. And to top it off, he's a fantastic friend. I always leave an encounter with him feeling better about myself.

He needs to write another play. And a graphic novel. And a collection of satiric vignettes. And I'm going to unabashedly pester him to illustrate one of my future posts. And when I can compensate him appropriately, I will eventually commission him to avatar-up the rest of my family.

Check out his illustrations and animations. He's pretty awesome.

Experiment #15: Snowbet - How we enjoyed this crazy winter

2014-03-11T18:42:00.005-05:00

While I probably should be, I am not the least bit annoyed that the relevance of this blog post will be nearing nil in the next two days. But, as we are slated to get another inch of sloppy snow tonight, I thought this would be an appropriate post. Hopefully for the last time this season!

As Nora stepped into the 31 degree sunny warmth today, puffs of breath just barely visible as she exhaled, she exclaimed, "Ahhh...I love summer."

Yes. I remember the first "warm" days in college. There would be pasty white legs sporting shorts and lounging on blankets amongst the shrinking snow piles. Today, Madeline ran to pick up Nora from school wearing her sundress with some grudgingly clad leggings underneath. It was 42 degrees. I'm still baffled daily by the ridiculous similarities between college kids and actual kids.

Growing up in South Dakota, my winter (and large chunks of fall and spring) activities were built around cracked, dry hands, below zero temps, constant biting winds, traveling with winter survival kits in the car and shrinking snow piles into May. I even remember it snowing one year during homecoming in September, the swirling snowflakes gently landing on my nearly frozen fingers, which were sluggishly attempting to squeak the fight song out of my flute.

A couple years ago, Nick and I decided to make a concerted effort to not complain about the weather. We are trying to cultivate an overall attitude of gratitude for what we have rather than fixating on the imperfections in life. So we figured the best way to start is with the weather...you can't control it anyway. In most of the places we have lived, the weather is only ideal for a month or two a year, so we can either spend 10 months lamenting the imperfect weather or find ways to enjoy it. I even made a resolution to spend time outside every single day, which, I'm proud to say, up until this winter, I have mostly kept.

READ MORE »

I Can't Do It Myself Experiment #1: Family Cleaning Night and Indoor Slip and Slide!

2014-02-28T20:49:00.002-06:00

Cookie Dough Eating after Family Cleaning Night

I have noticed a trend in my blogging. Have you?

It's here. And here. And here. Oh, and here, here, and here.

I say I am going to write consistently. And then...silence.

This has been a lifelong trend. Excitedly, enthusiastically overcommitting. I get involved in too many things all at the same time, then fail colossally. Recently, in my quest to be more intentional, I have started to examine this trend so that I can intentionally target the problem.

Part of the problem is just me. I have ADHD. Yes, surprising, I know. Passionately jumping into projects without a single thought of how they will be completed is a classic symptom.

But over the years I have become aware of this tendency and have gotten much better at stopping, thinking, then committing. I don't think that committing to writing two or even four blog posts a month is unrealistic for me. So I can't blame it all on the ADHD. I think an even larger part of it is this tiny little bit of controlling, obsessive-compulsive personality streak that, thanks to the strong-willed stubbornness I got from my dad, manifests as a resistance to asking for and accepting help.

Interestingly, I wasn't diagnosed with ADHD until after my freshman year of college, much, much later than most. The psychiatrist said that I was able to be successful for so long where other ADHDers were not was partly due to my extremely organized, routine-oriented, engaged and concerned mother and the beensy bit of her personality I inherited. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mom. Without you, I would still be writing my college application essays.

While I hate schedules, forget to fill Madeline's milk seconds after saying I will, can change my plans with zero notice, read 8 books at the same time, and never follow recipes (or directions) exactly, this little bit of OCD allows me to mostly function like a responsible adult. With the expenditure of lots of mental energy (and a smartphone that bleeps at me), I can maintain appointments, give my kids their medicine, keep appropriate amounts of food in the house and remember to pay bills. However, these OCD tendencies also manifest in really weird ways that are getting weirder the older I get:

READ MORE »

Experiment #14: Dry Hand Help, i.e. I really can't do it myself

2014-02-26T21:11:00.003-06:00

Sad. So so very sad.

I started typing my blog address into the browser and my computer didn't even recognize my own blog domain.

Maybe pathetic is a better word.

After nearly two years of treading water, I feel like I finally reached the part of the pool where I can just barely touch the bottom with the tips of my toes. A bit of a respite. Not much, but enough. While I am very glad we chose the spacing of our children the way we did, lately, there have been many days where I have screamed, "Three kids in four years?! What were we thinking?!"

While my last year has been blog-silent, it has been an incredibly crazy, busy, fun, intense, exhausting, exciting, cathartic and agonizingly wonderful year. The girls are so fun. And so irritating. And so loving. And so screamy angry.

And now it's the coldest (snowiest?) winter in 20 years. Sigh.

I actually love winter. I love snow. I even love the cold, crisp, fresh air that takes your breath away. But not when I'm trying to bundle up and keep an infant warm. Thank you, God, that this year was NOT when I had an infant. It may take 45 minutes to get everyone bundled, but this year we can actually stay outside for at least 45 minutes!

Experiment #13: Homemade powdered sugar

2014-02-21T21:48:00.000-06:00

Routine and organization do NOT come naturally to me (stop laughing, Dad).

Somehow (magic?) my professional life is really scarily organized and planned and detailed. But most of the rest of the time, my modus operandi is:

Why plan? Just improvise! It will probably be good enough. It may even be better than if you had planned.

I like to tell Nick that this is called being spontaneous, but we both know the truth. It's just too much work for me to get my brain in the right mindset to plan ahead (translation: I'm lazy).

Some (ok, most) times, my attempts are colossal failures. But then I hit the jackpot and my "spontaneity" is validated. A shining example happened whilst making the candy I described in my last post.

The facts:
It was 4:57pm and I was halfway through a recipe for candy hearts that needed to be made for Nora's Valentine's Day party the following morning. No dinner cooking (was dinner even planned? nope.). Three hungry kids who were sneaking tastes of aforementioned candy in process. I walked over and opened the container holding our powdered sugar, only to realize that instead of the 2lbs of powdered sugar required, there was a scant 3/4 lb staring sassily up at me. What to do?

Option 1: Panic, abandon the project, leaving child in distressed puddle of tears on the floor & me with the inevitable task of creating valentines at 11pm.

Option 2: Call a friend and hope they are home and have 1.25 pounds of powdered sugar just sitting around. If they do, bundle up three hungry, sticky kids and shlep them over to gather the powdered sugar.

Option 3: Google "homemade powdered sugar" and hope.

I took my chances on Option 3.

READ MORE »

Experiment #12: Homemade Conversation Hearts

2013-02-13T23:17:00.000-06:00

Our "conversation" Japanese flower blossoms

Well, hello again. I thought with the pending holiday that it would be a good time to start my virtual conversation up again with my aptly chosen DIY project. Clever me.

So with that, Happy almost-Valentine’s Day! I almost made this post in enough time to be useful on the holiday. As I don't yet have Christmas cards out from 2011, I consider this an vast improvement.

And Happy Labor Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years, for that matter. Since that’s how long it’s been since I last posted. Good grief.

No excuses. I’ve just been attempting to rediscover some form of balance in my life again. And put a lot of miles on the car. A lot. We managed to travel close to 8000 miles through 9 states on several amazing (but not relaxing) trips to visit friends and family. All five of us. Three carseats. In a Toyota Camry. Oh yeah. But that’s another story for another time.

Today, we’re talking about talking. And candy.

Over the past year I have fallen back in love with Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. Much like The Cosby Show, Little Women has a whole new level of awesomeness when you revisit it as a parent. Hilarious anecdotes disguised as fiction along with brilliant nuggets of timeless wisdom that previously flitted way, way over my head. And FYI, I’m fairly positive that Cliff Huxtable’s character was based almost entirely on my dad. It’s kind of eerie, actually. But I digress.

Living through a Microscope: Experiment #11 - Delicious bits of simple energy (Homemade Larabars & Energy Bites)

2012-07-20T23:37:00.002-05:00

Butterfly Bush Flower

If you had asked me a few nights ago (or about a month ago) if I loved having kids, I may have thrown something sharp and heavy in the general direction of your head. Or something wiggly and squishy. Something that looked like a toddler. A toddler who woke up every 90 minutes screaming for her “taggie” that was hiding somewhere in the midst of the chaos that is our house.

But, on most days, I will be able to answer without the use of projectiles. Sure, as I sit in the bathroom with four fists pounding on the door and 2 squeaky voices screaming, “Mama! Mama! Mama!” I wish I could be like Tracy Jordan in 30 Rock and have a standing semiweekly hotel reservation for one hour to be able “to poop in peace!” Sure, it’s frustrating that 8 of my waking hours are spent sitting on the bathroom floor waiting for someone to poop, wiping someone’s poop or spraying someone’s poop off a diaper. Sure, it would be nice if the only poop I had to wipe was my own. (Can you tell that Madeline is potty training and my world seems full of poop?)

Pinterest!

2012-06-24T14:26:00.000-05:00

My blog has now become pinterestable! I've added "Pin it" buttons to the bottom of each post so you can easily go back and pin your favorites. I may have already pinned my deodorant recipe since I have to go back and reread the recipe each time I make it... Stay cool!

Experiment #10: Homemade Yogurt

2012-06-23T22:25:00.000-05:00

So before I start, I apologize. I tried really hard to keep this one short. I mean, seriously. Yogurt is simple to make! But there’s just a lot of information about the art of yogurt making. Probably why the yogurt manual I have is 79 pages…Ok, enough rambling - enjoy!

Please circle the statement that is true. When you go to the pediatrician...
a. At least 10 nurses and the custodial staff know your children by name
b. The receptionist says, “Weren’t you just here yesterday? And last Friday? And the Wednesday before that?”
c. Your pediatrician says they are naming exam room 8 after you
d. The guy at the ticket booth in the parking ramp recognizes your car and takes a few hours off your ticket price because your visits have single handedly paid for the ramp resurfacing
e. All of the above

Guess which one my family would circle. Need a hint?

Largely thanks to Madeline and my post-surgery paranoia, in the 22 months we’ve been attending the University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics, we have wracked up 66 office visits (including an embarrassing stinky visit), 20 phone calls to the nurse line, 15 days in the hospital, 7 x-rays, 4 ultrasounds, 3 ECHOs, and 2 ER visits. And that’s not even counting Nick and his quasi TB and possible Lyme disease (don't even ask). Yeah, that’s pretty ridiculous.

Enter yogurt.

Eh?

You see, at least a quarter of those visits, one ER trip and at least one prescription medication involve digestion issues and/or slow weight gain.

Probiotics (helpful bacteria found in yogurt) offer protection for your digestive system and help with digestion itself. Eating yogurt helps reestablish the healthy bacterial flora in your mouth and body and evidence suggests probiotics can treat certain digestive problems like irritable bowel syndrome and diarrhea, prevent exzema, help with colds and flu, and even treat oral thrush. Yogurt is also high in protein, calcium, vitamins D, B2 and B12, potassium and magnesium, which, as Nora will tell you, is good for healthy bones, strong muscles, not getting sick, and (snicker, snicker) healthy poops and pees.

READ MORE »

Just one of those days...Experiment #9: Homemade Whipped Cream

2012-06-20T22:13:00.000-05:00

For a year, starting when Nora was 15 months, I worked and Nick stayed home. I worked long hours. I had a 20-50 minute commute (depending on traffic) one way. Many days I left before Nora woke and returned after she was asleep. Then I'd come home and do more work.

It was a fulfilling job, but it was horrendously stressful and, to be honest, I remember very little of Nora from that year. I missed it when she spoke her first sentence. I missed going to her first music class and when she learned to do a summersault. I missed spending time with her. Her incessant talking. Her need to be touched. I even missed having to rock her to sleep. It was a huge relief when we moved to Iowa and I could do my work entirely from home.

But on days like today, I long for the ability to just leave the kids in someone else's care and go disappear for a few (or many) hours into my very own work world.

As I look back on the day, it seemed innocent enough. Just a series of slightly annoying events that slowly accumulated into a giant ball of stressed-out Kristin.

The days are long, but the years are short...

2012-06-07T23:02:00.002-05:00

Alas, it has been another 6 months.

Wow. 6 months? Really? I wrote that and had to go back to a calendar and count…January definitely doesn’t seem that long ago. Something my grandma always used to say has been bouncing around in my head lately, “Oh Kristin, don’t wish time away. The days may seem long, but the years are too short.” How true, Grandma Laura, how true.

So, I feel I need to validate, at least to myself, my extraordinarily long absence. Particularly after stating, in my very last entry, that I wanted to post twice each month. What could I have possibly been doing that prohibited me from posting even once?!

Yeah, I don't know either.

Experiment #8: The Pit(s) of Despair (Homemade Deodorant)

2012-01-09T01:37:00.000-06:00

My very own homemade deodorant (in a Tom's container)!

So, I was going to post on my recently awesome success with making homemade yogurt, but as I continue to receive an ever growing number of requests to share my homemade deodorant recipe, I thought I'd start the New Year out with a bang (or blast)...of sweet smelling Kristin pits.

The story begins in the summer. Back when it was hot and I was very, very sweaty. So I have peppered this post with pictures from warmer times (rather than pictures of my sweaty pits).

Thanks to Nick for several of these pictures.

The Pit(s) of Despair
I LOVE The Princess Bride. As I was constructing my post in my head while rocking Madeline to sleep last night, I was thinking about how funny the word "pit" sounded to use as a term for underneath the arms, and the scene in the Pit of Despair from The Princess Bride popped into my head. I thought it was an apt analogy for my own journey from despair to pit bliss.

READ MORE »

Ode to Grandma Laura: Accidental Strawberry Jam and a Drive-By Shampooing

2011-12-30T22:08:00.000-06:00

Merry Post-Christmas, Happy Post-Hanukkah and Happy Almost New Year!

Wow. Has it been almost another 2 months since I last posted? So much for my return to the blogging world.

*sigh*

In my defense, on top of it being a crazy, busy, sad, happy, sleepless, sleep-filled, travel-heavy two months, I have had my phone as my primary (or only!) means of communicating with the virtual world for much of the two months while Nick confiscated the wireless internet (his phone) and the computer to finish the semester from you-know-where. While the smart phone was a wondrous invention, it is not conducive to writing long emails, let alone an entire blog post.

And I just realized that I spent nearly half of the last two months away from home. No wonder our gas line item in our budget has been way in the red.

Enough excuses. I'm excited to have access to a computer and internet again since I've spent the last couple months doing some fun projects. It was year-of-the-homemade-Christmas-gifts in our household, so we made candles, lavender scented hand lotion, "canvas" photos, face wash, strawberry applesauce, energy bars, and pancake mix. We made a backyard "ice rink." And, most excitingly, I perfected my deodorant! So I have a lot of writing to do.

READ MORE »

Experiment #7: Masala Chai

2011-11-02T21:18:00.000-05:00

So I’m back after a long, deliberate departure from writing and the virtual world. Over the past two months, I did a lot of experimenting for the blog, but haven’t done a lot of writing. I’ve just felt…uninspired. Exhausted. Bummed out. Every time I would try to write, it felt like my brain was wearing flippers and trying to pull a wagon full of bricks up a sandy bank. Nothing of meaning or value would come out. So about 6 weeks ago, I gave up trying and decided to give the brain a break.

(Turns out I needed all that time anyway to finish Nora’s way-too-ambitious “Rapunzel” Halloween costume that I sewed completely by hand…mmhmm…)

A few weeks ago, I discovered why. I was driving out in surprisingly beautiful rural Iowa, basking in a rare moment where both girls had fallen asleep in the car, breathing in the beautiful fall smells and drinking in the vivid purples, reds, oranges, yellows, golds and greens. Out of nowhere, it hit me: For whatever reason, I’m in transition right now, trying to find my groove, my place, myself.

Then, several weeks ago, I was starting up a study with some friends from church when something clicked: I was not content where I was. Thinking back on the past month or so, I realized I had often wished I was elsewhere or that something was different. I kept trying to manipulate things to create a sense of contentment. That night I realized it wasn’t something that needed to change, it was me. My attitude. After that realization, for the first time in several months, I felt at peace.

Experiment #6: Faux Canvas Print (in honor of Madeline)

2011-09-14T21:50:00.000-05:00

Our little “Meg-Peg” turned one last week. For those of you who know Madeline, you know what a big deal that is. I will eventually get to my experiment, which was using one of our favorite pictures of 7-month-old Madeline to remedy the fact that we have not put up one single picture of Madeline all year. But first, I felt it was odd that it took a whole year to hang a picture of Madeline and I wanted to examine why.

Before I start, I will apologize for the lengthy discourse that follows. It was time to process all the stuff that happened this year and, lucky you, this blog is my medium for downloading. It gets a little philosophical, a little theological and, if I’m honest, a little sappy. Writing this was extremely cathartic, so just consider yourself forewarned.

One Year Ago...

Madeline was born a healthy little girl. Her first night out of the womb, she slept 8 hours straight and could not be awoken to eat. We were a little freaked, but everyone said she was just recovering from the “trauma” of being born. Her amazing sleep abilities continued when we got home. She slept ALL the time and for LONG periods of time. Before she was a month, she was sleeping through the night. After Nora, our extremely high maintenance sleeper (who only just started sleeping through the night a month ago after starting asthma treatments), we thought we had created a super baby (well, she is pretty super).

A week before her CHD was discovered

It’s funny now looking back at all the little clues that something was wrong. It seems ridiculous that we didn’t pick anything up earlier. To his credit, Nick was really worried about how much she was sleeping. “It just can’t be this easy,” he kept saying. The doctors told us to enjoy the extra sleep. We joked about her having a blue skin tone. Over the next 6 weeks, her eating times got shorter and her sleeping times got longer. She was always cold and needed to be wrapped up in several blankets. She’d sweat when she’d eat. I compulsively felt her fontanel, convinced that it was constantly a little sunken.

It’s also humbling when I look back and see God’s hand in the process to healing and the sheer number of people who had to be at the top of their game and responsive to that little nagging feeling that something was just not right.

Experiment #5 Addendum

2011-09-04T21:30:00.000-05:00

Sometimes my brain is not all there. Most of the time, lately.

Anyway, I completely forgot to explain HOW I use the shampoo and conditioner once it is mixed.

I wet my hair in the shower and then douse it with the baking soda mixture, starting at the crown and working it mostly through my scalp. Then I massage it in and let it sit for several minutes (in my head this is to let the baking soda complete its chemical reaction with all that oil). Then, I just rinse it out. Nick claims he can feel the extra oil washing away.

I use a varying amount of baking soda mixture depending on how sweaty and greasy my hair feels. If it's been a particularly long time (embarrassed grimace), I have used it twice.

Next, I sprinkle on the "conditioner" starting with the ends of my hair and then working up. I tried just putting it on the ends, but found my hair just felt yucky without it all over. I do the same for Nora. Nick doesn't use conditioner every day. I massage it in and let it sit again for a few minutes before rinsing it out.

And that's it.

As a side note, Nick wasn't too keen on the apple cider vinegar (ACV) mixture. He said (and I quote), "I don't want to smell like a pickle." In actuality, the very faint vinegar smell is gone after a few minutes. He still doesn't like it as a matter of principle.

Experiment #5: Shampoo and Conditioner

2011-09-04T20:55:00.000-05:00

The no-'poo family. Look at those luscious locks!

**March 2014 Update!**
As I have noted in a more recent post, I have discontinued use of this particular recipe. After the birth of my third child, it made my scalp and hair WAY too dry, itchy and uncomfortable. I have done some very preliminary research and have come across a plethora of posts (although I have yet to verify the info, it seems to make a lot of sense and fits well with what happened to me) that discuss the damage that rapidly and repeatedly dramatically changing the pH of your hair follicles can do. So I am on the hunt for a "pH balanced" (a.k.a. one that is a similar pH to my scalp) DIY shampoo, because even the commercial shampoos are drying me out (stupid hormones!). That doesn't mean that this won't work for your hair. I know that it works for many. It has just stopped working for me. I have "heard" that combining aloe and coconut milk works well, so that's first on the docket. I will update in a few months. In the meantime, if anyone has found something that works well, feel free to drop me a message in the box on the right or leave a comment. Thanks!

It has been 47 days since I have used shampoo or conditioner. And yet, my hair looks and feels better. And, most importantly, I have not scared my friends away! (Just wait till the post on deodorant...)

As you may remember from my list post, making my own shampoo was number 35.

My interest in making shampoo started innocently enough. A couple days after I had decided to create this blog, I was taking a shower and noticed we were getting low on shampoo. I hate when that happens because it inevitably means a $50 trip to Target. It’s ridiculous, but I just can’t make it out of Target without spending at least $50. I’m not sure if it’s the welcoming atmosphere of the store, the barrage of items I see en route to the shampoo aisle that I realize we are out of at home (although we’ve somehow survived for months without them), or my total lack of self-control, but it happens without fail.

So I usually avoid Target like I avoid touching fish (ugh).

Experiment #4: Homemade Chocolate Mints

2011-08-25T21:07:00.000-05:00

This has been a week of transitions.

Nick started his classes (and his long, long days away from home). Nora started her new fall preschool with all new classmates. Nora and I started "Mama and Nora preschool" on days that she is home with me. Madeline started up with nasty allergies or an annoying persistent cold. My buddy, Anna, and I started up our thrice weekly "crack of dawn" swim dates (don't ask how that went). And I started another "quick" consulting job (really, Kristin? This week?).

With half the family as confirmed "slow-to-adapters" (the jury's still out on Madeline), the week of transitions has been stressful. Lots of crabbiness. Interrupted sleep. Fit throwing. And that was just Nick and me.

As someone who thrives on change, I just don't understand. I love this time of year, with the change of weather, the change of routine, the change of scenery. Ahh...it's like a massage for my soul.

So, admittedly, I'm not the most patient person when Nick and Nora get out of sorts when things change. And sometimes I'm just downright nasty. Like this week.

So to make up for it, I wanted to do something special for Nora and Nick on their first day of new classes. Nora LOVES Junior Mints. LOVES them. So do I. They bring back memories of sitting in Watertown's dark, non-stadium seating movie theater on Christmas Day, squeaking my shoes as they stick and unstick to the floor coated with gallons of sugary beverages.

READ MORE »

Guest Experiment: "Make" Your Own Honey

2011-08-15T20:15:00.000-05:00

Due to unforeseen illness (is it ever foreseen?) and since my current experimentation is requiring more time than anticipated, I asked Owen to share his experiment in something that we will never be able to do at this house: beekeeping (thank you, Nick's deadly bee allergy). Owen and Emily and their two daughters (and baby #3 due today!) were some of our first friends here - Emily actually attended Madeline's birth as my doula a whole 3 weeks after meeting me! They are genuine and kind and capture one of the reasons why I love the Iowa City area (yes, I said Iowa) so much. They are this seamless and beautiful blend of urban and rural (not to mention just plain awesome people). They live in an old farmhouse on 5 acres surrounded by corn, but are active participants in the "city" community. And the majority of "city folk" here work hard to bring the farm to the city. You get to meet the farmers at the markets and coops in town and are actually invited go to the farm to see where your food is raised and grown. It's just a truly amazing and real community. So thank you, Owen, for your ongoing friendship and for sharing your foray into keeping bees.

Naturally, people ask me why I started beekeeping. They might expect that it reminds me of my childhood in some way, maybe a close neighbor that kept bees in their backyard, where I would visit the busy, humming hives on hot summer afternoons. But no, it wasn't anything romantic like that. I started beekeeping because I was curious. Kristin asked me to write a guest post for I Can Do It Myself and after reading her blog over, I think we share some common defects. I too want to do it myself, I too want to save money, and I too want to engage with my children. Who doesn't?

I first met an actual beekeeper at the Iowa City Fairgrounds during the Johnson County Fair in 2010. He had a display set up but he wasn't particularly outgoing. He looked a little wild, with a round, red beard that completely hid his mouth. He said that at one time he had sixteen hives, but these days he's down to only three. "Too much dinking around with these dang swarms." See, he doesn't want to pony up cash for new bees, as bee prices have gone up sharply in the last ten years, instead he tries to catch them in the wild.

I grabbed a pamphlet about the local East Central Iowa Beekeeper's Club and asked a few questions, something about how much it takes to get into the hobby and when I should place an order. I think I got a few basic pointers, but I don't really remember. That year I tried to order a package of bees via e-mail, but I was too late for the season. "We are completely sold out of bees. You need to order in Feb or March. Phil Ebert."

READ MORE »

Experiment hiatus: the list and YOU

2011-08-01T19:45:00.000-05:00

For those of you who have known me for any length of time, know that I have a tendency to dive head-first, eyes closed, mouth screaming into whatever new-fangled idea I cooked up. Then, in anywhere from a few hours to a few months, the novelty wears off and my awesomely awesome idea fizzles.

That will not happen with this blog.

I'm writing this more for me than anything else. I feel the need to explain why there has been a several week silence from Kristin's cyberspace, because I need to convince myself that this time will be different.

At any rate, it has been an exhausting and exciting few weeks. We traveled over 1300 miles by car, cycled between sick kids and sick husband, Nick officially finished his first year of graduate school, I took my first trip to Chicago and ended up completing some unexpected short-term consulting work for my former employer. Whew.

READ MORE »

Experiment #3: Puffy Fingerpaint

2011-07-19T23:57:00.000-05:00

I love shopping with my dad.

I think I just heard an audible gasp from everyone who has ever met either my dad or me. I am pretty sure that the only time the words “love” and “shopping” are uttered together in a sentence by either of us is to say, “I love it when the stores are closed and there is no possible way I can go shopping.” I just really hate shopping and so does my dad.

But shopping with my dad is awesome for two reasons:

We have the same attention span for shopping (30 minutes max).
We shop by feel.

The three times I have gone shopping with my dad, he would come back to the dressing room with a small pile of clothes - none of them matching (or even distantly coordinating), but all soft, smooth or silky. I like my clothes to look good, but I really like them to feel good.

I'm just a highly tactile person. I like to knead dough, work with clay, walk barefoot, twirl my hair, wiggle in the sand, and play in the dirt. I have apparently passed this obsession on to my daughter. So at our house, we try to do lots of "hands-on" activitites.

Tactile stimulation is more than just a way to occupy a preschooler's time. It is now being recognized as a legitimate therapeutic treatment with exceptional benefits for everyone from preemies to Alzheimer patients. Modeling letters out of clay is used as a treatment for dyslexia. It has even been suggested that since serotonin, a brain chemical linked to depression, is more present when an individual is active, even fine motor movements can improve mood and combat depression (B.L. Jacobs, Princeton University).

READ MORE »

Experiment #2: Homemade Granola

2011-07-16T19:46:00.000-05:00

With my husband's plunge into graduate school this past year and his constant 12+ hour days away from home, I have had to learn how to cook. I do not like to cook. Growing up, I did lots of baking with my mom. Baking is therapeutic. Relaxing. Fun.

But cooking? Ugh.

I realize now that my hefty disdain for cooking is primarily because I just never learned how to cook. I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing and have no innate cooking sense to guide me. As you might imagine, I am not very good at it. And, childish though it may seem, I do not like doing things I can't do well.

But, one cannot raise a healthy family on cheesy eggs, tuna melts and spaghetti (the three meals I "cooked" before this year). So in an attempt to remedy my complete lack of culinary knowledge, I started reading (gasp!) cookbooks and cooking magazines. Amid the tedious steps for creating perfect pastas, pizzas, peanut sauce and potstickers, I stumbled upon Bobby Flay's fantastic recipe for "mango agave granola" in Food Network magazine. My beautiful baking gem among the cooking chaos.

Therefore, in an effort to ignore the fact that I have yet to master even one cooking recipe, I am going to blog about something I get to bake.