advent craftiness. you knew it was coming.

Holidays! Can you believe it's already December you guys?! Feels like only yesterday we were Skyping Phil in to Christmas morning from the hospital. Ah, the good ol' days.

And look, the stockings-because we lack a chimney- are already hung by the staircase with care.


Jingle on out of the fast lane, slackers, 'cause I have got my act TOGETHER this year.

It's been a while since I've sung the praises of Pinterest. Me thinks it's about that time again.

As a child, I remember having an advent calendar at Christmas every year and in the interest of keeping traditions alive it was important to me that we start doing that with our kids as well. I checked Pinterest for some ideas of homemade advent calendars and, as I've come to expect from my fellow Pinners, there certainly was no shortage of creativity. I melded some of the collective brilliance together and voila! I give you my finished product:







I filled little bags with fun treats like chocolate coins and peppermints, items such as pencils and small notebooks to keep thankfulness journals, and harmonicas to practice making a joyful noise unto the Lord (while also driving me crazy, to be sure). I also filled about half of the bags with fun family activities such as 'Go look at Christmas lights', 'Bake Christmas cookies', 'Dance to Christmas music' or 'Make gifts for the neighbors'.

I used a paint pen on colored cardstock to mark the date, clipped them to some twine with clothespins and strung the whole deal waaaaaaaay up on the curtain rods in our dining room. To deter sneaky little peekers. My plan is to pull out a Bible verse each day to correspond with what's in the baggies as an attempt at keeping things holy up in here.

Our calendar only goes until the 22nd because of our holiday travels. And it starts today because I procrastinate like a mofo.

Anyone have some fun holiday projects they want to show me? I'd love to oooooh and ahhhh over them.

a shout out to the children's leukemia foundation

I woke up this morning and realized I have three children. Do you ever just do that? Like, how did I get here? It was the sight of Ocean's shoes in the hallway that did it to me. I thought to myself, "WHOA. You are a for real parent. Your kid wears those shoes." Shivers.

Despite moments of weirdness like that, our lives continue to feel more and more normal. The big kids are in school 3 days a week and Phil and I manage to keep ourselves busy in grown-up land. We're trying to be more disciplined and balanced for the sake of the kids, because neither Phil nor I are gifted in those areas. But we're making progress. And we've also managed to squeeze in some fun family time.

Last week we took the kids to the Children's Leukemia Foundation for an Art Day. They got to paint, draw and color while Phil and I hung out and chatted with the super amazing social workers who have been taking such great care of us over the last year. CLF not only represents children with blood cancers, but also children of adult patients with blood cancers. Every Christmas they put together a box of gifts for each of their families; we were overwhelmed last Christmas when a GINORMOUS box arrived on our doorstep filled with wonderful presents for our children. Given the state of things last year, I cannot tell you how much it meant to me knowing that my children were being thought of and cared for when my attention had to be with Phil. Even now, as I write this, my eyes are filled with tears and my heart is bursting with gratitude for the CLF.

As we begin to enter the season of mistletoe, holiday cheer and- let's face it- toy drives, I wanted to draw your attention to this particular organization's efforts. You can find out more about the Holiday Toys program here.

from now on i'm going to let him choose his punishment, because an ice cream trap is way better than what we were going for.

Ocean was having a terrible time when he got home from school today.

Iris had stayed home from school with a raging fever and Phil was working so by the time Ocean got here I was losing my mind between Iris's demanding screams for more juice and Ruby's physical abuse of Iris, for which she shows absolutely no remorse I might add. (It's a new thing. It's disconcerting. I don't know.) So I didn't have much time to connect with Ocean like I usually do in the afternoon. As a result, he was- as my dear southern mother would say- fit to be tied.

When Phil finished working he tried playing soccer upstairs with Ocean but I could hear Ocean copping an attitude. I went up to chat with him and ended up taking his soccer ball for refusal to cooperate, and then subsequently sent him to his room for sassing me. Different versions of this scenario kept replaying over the next hour. I had had enough and went downstairs to deal with the Sicko and the Sociopath. Finally, Phil came downstairs, opened up the freezer and took out the carton of chocolate ice cream. He put two scoops into a small bowl, set the bowl on the table and called Ocean. "I'm going to try a different approach," Phil said. I raised my eyebrows.

Ocean came downstairs and Phil told him to sit at the table. He sat, then noticed the ice cream. "What's this for?" he asked with a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

Phil said, "Do you think you deserve this, Ocean?"

I was pretty sure I knew where Phil was going with this. We have been talking about God's generosity. How he gives and gives, and we often don't recognize it. That it's not by our efforts that we are given so much, but just because we are loved and part of the family. This is something that I want to communicate to our kids. Generosity- recognizing it, appreciating it and replicating it. For about three-and-a-half seconds, I thought this just might work.

Ocean pondered the question for just a moment before he began to speak, tentatively...

"I heard a story once. It was about a mouse. And there was some cheese in front of him. But then he realized it was a trap. A mouse trap."

Guess we nailed that one.

all done.

And just like that, Ruby is weaned.

I had tumultuous breastfeeding relationships with both Ocean and Iris. They hated nursing and fought me tooth and nail (literally) at every feeding. I made it a few months with Ocean before I started pumping for him, then we made the transition to cow's milk at about 11 months. I weaned Iris quickly when Phil was diagnosed because nursing was a battle I did not want to fight during that challenging time. She was 9 months old and had no objections. In fact she pretty much responded with, "Finally!" while rolling her eyes.

Ruby has been different. She loves the milkies. As of a month ago she was down to two feedings a day and one in the middle of the night, but without a pacifier or favorite lovey the milkies were her source of comfort and a winding-down before bed. I was seriously dreading having to wean her.

Until.

A couple of weeks ago I realized that my sweet, snuggly, easy baby was turning into a crabby, whiny, cling-on. Her separation anxiety was at an all-time high, when- at her age- it should have been wrapping up. She started waking up every hour at night, expecting to be nursed, and screaming like crazy when I would try to put her back in bed. We were both sleep-deprived and insane. For a moment I considered putting a little bow on her head and giving her to my mom as a gift.

In a moment of clarity inside a moment of desperation inside a moment of sleep deprivation I decided that I had to put the kibosh on the boob. Yep, a boobosh. Weaning was our only hope. I started with her nap that day, bracing myself for a battle of epic proportions. Instead of nursing her to sleep I handed her a cup of milk. She smacked it away. I said, "Mommy milk is all gone." She took the cup, drank the milk and I put her in her crib. She went to sleep.

Just like that.

I nursed her at bedtime for another few days, then did the same thing with the milk cup, letting her know that the milk bar was out of order. She fussed a bit, but took the cup and pointed at her bed. I put her in bed with her cup, left the room and she drank it. Then she fell asleep and slept all night for the first time in months.

MONTHS.

Since then, she has returned to her sweet, happy self. And she's eating better, sleeping better, talking more and using accurate baby signs. As opposed to beating her chest and screaming always.

This one, she is smarter than I.

So now that we're done I'm sad. I know it was time. She is almost 16 months old and really, her behavior was driving me bonkers. So I know the time was right. But having finally had a good breastfeeding experience after two miserable ones makes me grieve the fact that I won't have the opportunity to do it again.

Not enough to actually have another baby, because A. I can't, and B. I can't. But it's just a little emotional. Just like when they start walking, or they say mama for the first time or I guess when they start driving or go to college. Just another milestone that takes them one more step out of the nest and one step closer to being the independent people we're raising them to become.

Because milk from a cup? I mean, she may as well be drinking a cappuccino.

Big. Girl.

let there be light. fixtures.

We built our house in 2007. When I was 6 days postpartum with Iris we all went to Home Depot to pick out light fixtures. I was hobbling around in a fog of hormones and achy butt, pointing at things for Phil to load up into our cart. It was not fun. It was misery. And we have a house full of boob lights to show for it.

Looking back, I wish I had had more time to choose what fixtures we'd end up with. But mostly I wish Pinterest was around back then.

I recently fell head over heels for this light fixture from Pottery Barn Teen, which I thought would look fabulous in Ruby's room:


Image via Pottery Barn

At $128 it was a definite no-go. But never fear... I began a Pinterest adventure looking for a DIY version.

Eureka:


Image via Freshly Picked

Isn't that gorgeous?? It's made of wax paper! Genius.

Problem: While I really like the look of the white, the colors in the Pottery Barn chandelier were what caught my eye. And the lazy side of me thought it seemed a little labor intensive to use wax paper.

So... I used vellum. I'm not going to go through the whole process because Susan at Freshly Picked has a very thorough tutorial.

Instead, I'll show you a few pictures. Here's the thrifted lamp shade I got for $1.50 at the Ann Arbor PTO Thrift Shop, aka my new favorite joint.



Here's the shade once I had cut off the fabric. I then spray-painted it white.



Pretend that I was smart/awesome enough to take a bunch of pictures of myself circle-punching, sewing and draping. Insert those imaginary pictures here. (Oooooh. Aaaaaaah.)

I installed it above the existing boob light using 4 small screw-in hooks. The fixture has a CFL light bulb so it doesn't get hot. I kept the light on all day today while I was inside and checked it periodically. You know, just in case. It was fine. Barely warm even. (If you attempt this project you'll want to do the same thing since all light fixtures are different.)







Total cost breakdown for the project:
Lamp shade: $1.50
Vellum: $20 (I had to special order the colors I wanted which is why it was so expensive)
Circle punch: $10
Thread and paint: Free. I already had them on hand.
Hooks: Free. My dad bought them for me. =)
Total cost: $31.50

And just for fun, here are some of the other projects I've done in her room:





I have plans to DIY a different kind of chandelier for Iris's room. More on that later. I'm also on the lookout for an industrial style fixture for Ocean's room so if anyone has any ideas about that I'm all ears.

Here's a blurry/jumpy Miss Roo enjoying her new chandelier.



Working on something you saw on Pinterest? Get in on the Young House Love Pinterest Challenge!

it's too hot to blog.

I feel like I might die from heat-induced exasperation and annoyance.

Yes, yes. I'm a weenie-whiny baby. And I'm officially opening the floor for all of you to lovingly poke fun at my intolerance of this heat. I know some of you have it much, much worse, speaking in terms of temperature and humidity/misery-quotient. I've been to Atlanta and Dallas, and lived in North Carolina. So I know 90 degrees is nothing compared to what some of you must endure. But my midwestern blood is thick, baby, and I can't take it take it take no more.

So instead of having to use up precious energy blogging about how much I'm sweating, I thought it would be less disgusting to make a Suburban Matron inspired pie chart to indicate how I'm spending my time*.

*Just go ahead and assume simultaneous sweating is occurring with each activity.

sauced

We were driving to our friends' house this evening. Just to paint you a picture, Ocean and Iris sit in the third row and Ruby is in the second row. I was in the passenger seat and Phil was driving. We grown ups were chatting and things were fairly quiet from the peanut gallery in the back when suddenly something flew from the back of the car, sailing past my head and splattering against the windshield, showering me with wet, cold grossness.

I screeched, "What the hell?!" and looked over at Phil. His eyes were huge. I examined a blob of goo on my arm and determined quickly that it was applesauce. It was all over the side of my face and down the front of my shirt, and of course it covered the dashboard. By this time Phil was saying something to the kids but I interrupted, "No. NO. Pull this car over NOW."

Phil pulled into the first driveway he saw, which happened to be a day care center at pick-up time. I hope it doesn't make me a terrible parent that I thought at that instant, "Oh man. This means I can't really yell at them like I want to."

I opened my door, grabbing a pack of wipes on my way out, and sprang around to the other side of the car. I opened the door and proceeded to give them the weirdest lecture I've ever given to date. While covered in applesauce.

When apologies were said (many times over) and I had cleaned myself up to the best of my ability (with a few wipes and an old sippy cup of water-- let's hear it for never cleaning out my vehicle) I got back in the car and looked at Phil, shaking my head. We both sat there for a second in silence when I realized how ridiculous this whole thing was and we quickly covered our mouths so the kids wouldn't hear us cracking up. I slumped down in my seat and mouthed again, "What the hell?!" Phil whispered, "I just can't believe they threw applesauce. Who does that?"

I mean, it's not like I've never wanted to throw a full cup of applesauce across three seats in a moving vehicle. But there's a time and a place, tiny people. There's a time and place.