We Have a New Addition

Jeff, Amelia, and I are thrilled to announce the New Year’s Day arrival of Bentley Baron, weighing in at a healthy 9lbs.  He sleeps through the night, never cries, and brings enormous joy to our family.

I know what you’re thinking, and kindly bite your tongue.  I’ll be 45 in two weeks.  Bentley has four legs, fluffy ears, and a short little tail. He’s part toy poodle and part bichon, and all adorable dog. And he’s a rescue, so we can feel good about providing a home for a dog who needs one, not supporting a puppy mill, and a bunch of other do-gooder stuff…but selfishly, we also feel pretty lucky because somebody else has already trained him. Adopting year-old, pre-owned Bentley is like inheriting a well-behaved, potty-trained preschooler instead of birthing an infant who stays up all night.  Since we already have a preschooler who stays up all night, Bentley’s my kind of addition.

And Amelia is over the moon. She’s been asking for a dog for as long as I can remember. She probably said “doggie” around the same time as “mommy.” She may have even called me a doggie, which would have been a compliment. We’ve long promised that when she turns five we’d get a dog, and since Amelia has a memory like a steel trap and a birthday that just passed, the dog search has been on for a while.

Which is good, because it turns out that adopting a dog is serious business. I’m not sure why I thought it would be simple – like someone who loves dogs enough to rescue them from pounds would then just blindly place them with anybody who promised some kibble. Nope, this involved an application with essay questions, a phone interview with the dog’s foster mom, two reference checks, an in-person interview, and a home visit. 

Which, now that Bentley is curled up beside me as I write this, I understand and appreciate. He’s a new family member. He’s here for the long haul. We thought this would be Amelia’s companion, but we all are in puppy love.  As Amelia says, Bentley is the perfect dog for us. 

Ok, enough with the lovey-dovey stuff. I don’t have a craft for this post, apart from the expected dog accoutrements – a little toy box, a pillow for his (scarcely used) crate, and I’m sure there will be a dog department in my Etsy shop soon enough. Instead, here are some things we’ve learned about dog adoption…you know, in case anybody reading this is interested in bringing home a new best friend and immediately turning into a puddle of slobbering dog talk for weeks thereafter.

he's still got plenty of puppy energy!

• Puppy love doesn’t have to involve a puppy.  Bentley is about a year and a half old, and fully trained is a great thing. He doesn’t chew the furniture or bite, and he’s grown out of some of his puppy energy.  He’s just the right balance of playmate and lap dog. 
• Rescue dogs are fully vetted.  Not in the “really, he’s a great guy, my friend’s friend knows him so you should date him” kind of way.  I mean they’ve been to the vet. Bentley’s rescue organization had him neutered, gave him his shots, started him on heartworm medication, and they do whatever is needed to make the dogs healthy and ready for adoption. 
• There are a LOT of dogs that need homes, and a LOT of rescue organizations trying to find them. We searched Petfinder to find dogs whose profiles seemed to fit what we were looking for, and each dog we applied for was in the care of a different rescue organization.  I suspect that these organizations vary somewhat in process and in quality, but all are motivated by the very noble desire to save these animals from unpleasant conditions and likely death, and find them loving homes.  The organization that rescued Bentley is Furever Angels Animal Rescue, and we are (fur)ever grateful to them. 
• Rescue isn’t free.  The adoption cost covers the expenses of transporting dogs, spaying and neutering, vet bills, medications, food, and whatever else comes up.  Bentley was extremely well cared for in his foster home, where his foster mom bought him clothes (!), toys, and most importantly loved him. The cost of this? Priceless. Anything you pay is a bargain.
• About the fostering. I don’t know if every rescue agency does this, but the ones we spoke with do. After they are rescued and vetted, the dogs are placed in foster homes with real families, so they can be loved and cared for individually, and the rescue organization can assess their personalities…and in turn, assess the families that apply for adoption.  Bentley’s the perfect dog for us because his foster mom knew we’d be the right family for him.

OK, that’s the end of my mushy tail (couldn't resist!) of puppy love. Really, I promise the next post will be more traditional crafty mess.  But for now, a warm little dog and a sweet little girl are ready for a bath. Together.

He IS the perfect dog for us.

Craving more crafty fun? Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent. Or stop by my Etsy store, Made by Mommy.  Or better yet, leave a comment here...I'd love to hear from you!

I’m Not Leaving Facebook in Charge

The other day, a friend posted a funny story on Facebook about a thing their kid had said, and I laughed and made a comment.  Another friend posted first photos of her newborn son, still in the maternity ward.  Within an hour, there were over twenty “oooh, so sweet, just look at that little nose” swoons. And then it hit me: is Facebook the new baby book?  Has it become the central repository for all the memories that families a generation ago carefully pressed and preserved in treasured bound albums?  What happens if Facebook goes the way of MySpace or the Palm Pilot or Beanie Babies?  And is anybody curating the giant daily brain dump that is Facebook?  I mean seriously, here’s what my posts typically look like:

STATUS UPDATE: does anybody know how to cook a chicken?

STATUS UPDATE: hey, look at this chicken in the oven!

STATUS UPDATE: hey, look at this chicken on our plate!

STATUS UPDATE: Sure was good chicken

STATUS UPDATE: My kid just lost her first tooth

STATUS UPDATE: who’s going to do all these dishes?

STATUS UPDATE: What’s the going rate for tooth fairy payouts?

See? The only part worth reading is buried. I’m thinking Facebook needs a really ruthless editor if it’s going to be the keeper of memories.  Right now it’s a hoarder’s overflowing scary attic. And I don’t trust it to be around forever anyway, so I’m not taking any chances.  I know what I’m grabbing in a fire, and it isn’t a laptop.  OK, I’d try to grab my laptop, but it wouldn’t be first.

Breakfast of birthday girls!

Amelia turned five this week, and if you know me at all you know I’m a sucker for rituals.  Mother’s Day pavers, first day of school photos, meatballs on New Years Eve, cake for breakfast on your birthday, and absolutely, positively, extensive documentation of every birthday, in many forms.  Concrete, non-virtual documentation. This year I picked Amelia up from school early just to get it all done.

 

First, there is the photo.  Amelia was born on December 5, and for her entire first year we photographed her on the 5^th of every month with a calendar and a baby instruction book, to show the date and how she’d grown. EVERY MONTH.  At the end of the year I put them together in a frame and hung it up.  Now we take the photo only on her birthdays, still with the same props. And years of working with museums has taught me that if you’re going to put a date on something it had better be accurate – so this photo can ONLY be taken on her actual birthday. 

Which leads to the next birthday project. A photo book. I take a lot of pictures, whittle “a lot” down to the best 50 or so, add witty captions, and send them off on the 5^th  of each month to family and friends. And yes, I even post the album on Facebook.  Every month. But like Facebook, I can’t trust a photo sharing site to be around forever, so each year on Amelia’s birthday I curate the year’s photos even further, into a hardbound photo book that Shutterfly so nicely produces for us. Digital photos, printed right onto real paper. It’s a wonder of technology.  Anyway, this book includes the annual calendar and baby book photo, so it can’t be created until Amelia’s birthday…and in a stroke of excellent timing, it makes a great holiday gift for the grandparents.

Every year we also make something together. We started with handprints on tiles when she was one and two, and then we moved on to drawing and writing on tiles, which hang as a backsplash in our kitchen, carefully signed and dated for posterity.

And this year we added a new ritual – a birthday interview. Many thanks to my friend Kristen over at Motherload Blog for turning me on to this one, and from whom I stole most of these questions.  And to her friend, from whom she stole them. See, the internet isn’t all bad!

Without further ado…Amelia’s Five Year Old Interview

Me: If a genie would grant you only one wish, what would it be?
Amelia: To be a happy family forever (awwww….)

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Amelia: A mommy (double awww….)

Me: Do you want to get married when you grow up?
Amelia: Yes, of course I will

Me: Do you want to have children?
Amelia: Yes

Me: Do you feel different now that you are five?
Amelia: No

Me: What is your favorite color and why?

Amelia: Rainbow, because it's my favorite color.

Me: Who is your best friend and why do you like them?

Amelia: Becca, Samantha and Nicole because they play funny games

Me: What do you think about world peace?
Amelia: Ummm, I don’t know about that

Me: What is your favorite TV show?
Amelia: Peppa Pig

Me: What do you like to do in free time?
Amelia: Go to the playground!

Me: What is your favorite thing about yourself?
Amelia: I get to be whatever I want and I always calm down

Me: What is your favorite song?
Amelia: Happy Birthday! And Ariel’s song

Me: If you could have any super power what would it be?
Amelia: To trap bad guys

Me: What is your very favorite thing to do?
Amelia: Projects with mommy all the time

Me: What is your favorite thing about me?
Amelia: We get to do projects together

Me: What is your favorite thing about Daddy?
Amelia: He does not do what girls do

What’s your favorite thing about Bubby?

Amelia: She’s listening  (Bubby is my mother, and she was indeed listening.)

I hope you enjoyed the interview in this potentially fleeting virtual format, but I’ll also be printing them in this year’s photo book.  You know, in case this conversation ever happens:

Jeff:  Hey, remember when people used to blog?

Me:  Yeah, didn’t I have one?

Jeff:  Yeah, you used to post those birthday interviews.  What was Amelia’s favorite color when she was five?

Me: I don’t remember.

Jeff: I don’t either. But I’m sure you had a blog.

 

I love birthdays.  Don’t trust them to Facebook.


Craving more crafty fun? Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent. Or stop by my Etsy store, Made by Mommy.  Or better yet, leave a comment here...I'd love to hear from you!

Thankful, Topped with Pride and Awe

I ate the last turkey sandwich for lunch today.  Which means Thanksgiving is really over, but I’m still feeling thankful. And this year, so is Amelia…which was a delightful surprise.  

Amelia will turn five in a few days. In parent-time, that means about ten minutes ago the friendly staff at the maternity ward watched us haplessly strap her into her carseat and wished us luck. Seriously, it’s been that quick. Except for bedtime. 

This year we hosted Thanksgiving.  Cooking a turkey scares the hell out of me, so I put off thinking about it as long as possible with a few crafts. The thankful pumpkin knocked my socks off. I figured we could do some hokey family bonding and end up with a nice centerpiece. Only it wasn’t hokey at all. 

Note the doorknob in the middle!

The craft is pretty simple, although we improvised some because we didn’t have brads or paper fasteners. Who uses paper fasteners anymore? We don’t, so I substituted an extra cabinet doorknob with a short screw and a flat face at the bottom. If my sister is reading this, she’s laughing her head off that we have an extra doorknob but not a paper fastener.  But we did, and I figured the doorknob would give the pumpkin some weight on the bottom to keep it upright on the table. 

Never fully dressed without a crown.

Start with a dozen or so paper strips.  I wanted a larger pumpkin than the tutorial, so I cut larger strips.  Then use a hole puncher to make a hole on each end of each strip. 

Now comes the pride and awe part. Each member of the family names things they are thankful for, and their words are written on the strips of paper.  A year ago, even a few months ago, Amelia wouldn’t have distinguished between “thankful” and “thank you.”  She’d be thankful for a cookie or a toy or passing the mac and cheese.  But this year, somehow, she understood that thankful is bigger. Without a moment’s hesitation, she told us that she is thankful for our family. For her friends. For love.  

Awe.  And awwwww.

Once I picked my chin up off the floor, we threaded the screw through the holes at one end of each strip of paper, and secured it into the doorknob.  I can’t vouch for the paper fastener version, but a doorknob worked pretty well.

Last, gather up the other end of each strip, keeping them in the same sequence they are in at the base, and thread a pipecleaner (or a paper fastener if you have such a thing) through the top holes. Bend the pipecleaner to keep it in the holes, and for good measure we added a leaf.

That’s it!  A fine centerpiece, simple activity, and endless parental pride in the amazingly perceptive, kind, grown-up girl Amelia’s become in almost five years. Or ten minutes.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Craving more crafty fun? Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent. Or stop by my Etsy store, Made by Mommy.  Or better yet, leave a comment here...I'd love to hear from you!

Happy Birthday, Made by Mommy!

That’s right, it’s sort of my birthday. Or anniversary. Or holy-crap-where-did-that-time-go day. I don’t know what to call it, but it’s worthy of celebration. One year ago today, I opened my Etsy store. I made a handful of aprons, took photos of them in my backyard and on the kitchen counter, and Made by Mommy went live.
 

The original batch, 227 aprons ago.

How do you measure a year on Etsy? Well, as of noon today, 5,792 people have viewed my store, 165 have been intrigued enough to “favorite” an item, and 79 have made purchases totaling 227 aprons, 6 puppet theatres, 2 sets of burp cloths and a quilt. I don’t know if these stats are good or bad compared with others’ experiences, but I’m feeling pretty great about it.

Seriously, I love Etsy. For a good chunk of the past year, I had a “real” job I didn’t love, and Made by Mommy was literally born out of creative frustration. Each sale reinforces that someone, somewhere, likes what I make. The feedback, thank you notes, blog links, and photos from people all over the country wearing my aprons are like little professional affirmations – which for a while there, I really needed to hear. 

Today, I don’t need the affirmations in quite the same way, but they are a reminder of something I take for granted. I tend to think that if something is easy for me to do, it must be just as easy for everyone else and therefore isn’t valuable. I’ve learned, and my customers have helped me see, that this isn’t true. It is possible to have a talent for something, enjoy it, and make a career of it. This is important to remember if you hope to love your job – doing what you love is possible, and definitely preferable. Just ask an actor. Or an athlete. Or a Mommy who gets to sew during the day, at least some days.  

Sew (haha) Happy Birthday Made by Mommy, and here's to many more!

And now I’m going to make a cake.

Are you looking for more craftiness?  Check out additional posts of A Crafty Mess over at Charlotte Parent!

Productive Procrastination?

I didn’t think this would be a problem.  I thought if I patched together a whole bunch of projects, I’d always have something interesting to do.  If you like what you’re doing motivation comes naturally, right?

Sort of. I like my new work/life balance. I love freelancing, crafting, running my Etsy store, and I really love having the flexibility to do everything else - visit Amelia at school, pick her up early, make lunch dates, volunteer, bake, etc, etc, etc.  So what’s the problem, you wonder?   

I decide what to do when. That’s right, it is all up to me. And my Type A personality gets in the way of realistic prioritization or real balance.

You see, a long to-do list makes me crazy. If there is something on the list that I can do quickly, even if it isn’t urgent, I do it.  I just want it off the list.  It’s list clutter and it must be gone. I have the same reaction to physical clutter. If I have a project with a lot of supplies that are sitting in a corner, just waiting to be used, that pile is all I see.  Even if the project isn’t at all time-sensitive, I do it first just to eliminate that waiting pile of stuff. Today, that’s what happened.

It is Sunday. I have 3 writing deadlines this week.  Job leads to pursue.  A self-imposed sewing schedule to keep my Etsy store stocked. Laundry. Grocery shopping. Not to mention a sneezing daughter and coughing husband who both need attention. So how did I spend most of the day? Reupholstering my neighbor’s sunroom furniture. 

Looking good!

Back in July, I promised her I would do this.  It’s a promise that’s been in the back of my mind, nagging me ever since. But there has never been any hurry, and we hadn’t even purchased fabric yet.  Fast forward to three days ago.  We bought the fabric.  I told her I’d try to get this done by Thanksgiving. She told me there’s no hurry at all. But since Wednesday, a large roll of fabric has been standing in the corner of my sewing room, and my neighbor’s patio cushions have been stacked in the garage.  We both knew this wouldn’t wait a minute longer than it had to.

I love this cushion fabric

And so it’s done. I spent the day cutting, sewing, and delivering patio cushions across the street. Amelia helped, carting cushions and throw pillows between the garage, the sewing machine, and the neighbors’ house. She pieced together scraps of fabric and watched me intently, asking why we make things for people. I told her it’s something we’re good at doing and she proudly agreed. 

So, was this procrastination? The neighbors are happy. Their sunroom looks great, and I checked it off my to do list.  It was cluttering both the list and the garage.

But other items on the list have deadlines. Long term projects that are harder to imagine completed, yet require steady attention. My “real job” is museum planning and writing.  Often there are months or years of work on paper before there is anything physical to see. It’s fascinating to me to delve deep into a subject, to research objects and stories and translate it all into an experience for visitors. It’s interesting and rewarding, and I work with creative teams. It also requires committees and reviews and edits and lots of patience. I think the appeal of sewing for me is that it is just the opposite.  As fabric runs through the machine, it literally creates a finished trail. Progress is visible and the product is tangible. And so it satisfies my Type A need to check things off and know how it ends. 

So…productive procrastination or work-work balance?

Speaking of checking things off, I needed to write a blog post. Check.

We didn’t break Amelia

Phew.  Because on Friday, we thought we might have.

Amelia came home from school and refused to walk, stand, or put any weight at all on her left leg.  Two urgent care clinics and a pediatric orthopedic specialist later, we’ve seen some cool x-rays of our daughter’s hips, legs and knees, and we’ve learned some new vocabulary: Transient synovitis.

Did she hurt her hip
falling off this bike?

It’s not serious – basically a virus that settled in her hip joint, causing inflammation. Painful but temporary, and the cure is a few days of Advil.  She’s back at school today and mostly back to normal.  But all weekend until we had a firm diagnosis, we worried. And felt guilty.  For what, you ask? Everything. First of all, we didn’t believe her. How could she have been fine all day and then, with no injury, suddenly become immobilized? Clearly she just wanted to be carried, right?  We thought she was just being lazy, and told her so.  We tried to trick her into walking.  We waited two hours before going to urgent care, we were so sure this wasn’t real.  Oy, the guilt.

And then, on the advice of our pediatrician, we took her in for x-rays.  What? Checking for broken bones?  How could our precious baby have broken a bone without anybody noticing an injury?   More guilt.  She’s out of our sight in preschool.  Is there enough supervision there?  She fell on her bike a week ago – could she have had a fracture all week and we didn’t notice?  Oh, how stoic she must be and how guilty we must be! I considered homeschooling.

Not fun in urgent care

Fun in urgent care

Seriously, this is the stuff that goes through my head in the middle of the night.  While sitting in urgent care.

Well, no break.  No injury.  No reason for guilt.  No need to homeschool. A head cold a month ago settled in her joint and for a few days she had a bum hip and got to satisfy her inner princess by requesting that we fetch things and carry her around…all 52 pounds of her.

hard at work

Once the drama was over, we entertained ourselves with a few days of sitting still projects. You know, to fill the time left in between me obsessively asking Amelia whether her hip hurt every time she moved.  Filled with residual guilt and general overprotectiveness, I planned projects to fill our days together at home.  But the most fun we had? Totally driven by Princess Bum Hip.  While I ran around in an overcompensating frenzy, Amelia picked up a pair of scissors left on the table and an abandoned ad from our lawn care service. She started cutting.  And she asked for glue.  And yarn.  I offered help, and she declined.  I asked what she was making, and she wouldn't answer.  She intently cut and glued for about 15 minutes, and then proudly presented me with a collage, of a woman with long hair and yarn fingers reaching for a perfectly triangular slice of watermelon on a table.  She knew exactly what she was doing and how to do it.

In an instant, Amelia's recent insistence that "I can do it myself" was proven. I may need to carry her once in a while, but I don’t need to watch her every minute.  

I hope she won’t break if I don’t.

Woman reaching for a snack on a table. Do you see the watermelon in her hand?

Trying a New View

Amelia in the hammock.
It's hard to take a photo of
yourself in a hammock!

I'm writing this post from a hammock in our backyard.

No, I didn’t lock myself out of the house.  And my husband didn’t lock me out either (yet!). I’m just seizing the moment.

It’s gorgeous out, perfect fall Charlotte weather – warm, breezy and dry. Blue skies behind just the right amount of clouds. I can see this because, as I mentioned, I’m in a hammock.

The last time I posted I wrote about slowing down. Not lazing about, that’s not really my style (hammock notwithstanding). But recognizing the opportunities in each day.  I’ve decided to (temporarily) stop worrying so much about my self-imposed and ongoing to-do list, and just enjoy the moment.

In part to prove I could relax, Amelia and I spent almost a week on Cape Cod with my mother, my sister and her family a few weeks ago. And guess what? Relaxation is awesome! Worth 8 hours of airports and driving with an impatient four-year-old. Truly, it was wonderful. My nephews are probably the closest thing Amelia will have to siblings, and giving them – and my brain! – unstructured time to really know each other and play in a sprawling old beach house was just what we all needed. 

This is NOT our project.
But possibly even more fun.
If you hope to be invited back to
a beach house, do not pour
shampoo into the Jacuzzi!

And of course there was a project. This one almost didn’t happen, thanks to a little mishap in the Jacuzzi. A tip: never pour shampoo into a Jacuzzi with the jets running. Completely unrelated to our project, but I was nearly banned from all soap in the beach house.

And this project required soap. You may have seen a photo circulating on Pinterest lately of a kid holding a mound of foam, with a caption about what happens when you put Ivory soap in the microwave.  I’ve seen it enough times that I was curious. So, with three kids fresh from the beach and needing a bath, we figured why not? We had a microwave. In went a bar of Ivory soap.  On a protective paper towel, since the house was a rental.

Woah.
Two cousins and their grandmother,
watching the microwave.

Within 20 seconds, the soap began to expand, growing in every direction into a billowy cloud. At the end of a minute, it had nearly filled the microwave. We were in awe.

We carefully removed the foamy blob, which was pretty hot (I’m not sure why were were surprised by this - we’d just microwaved it!). It cooled quickly then hardened, and then flaked apart into delicate soapflakes. With wet hands, we were able to tear off chunks and mold it like slimy playdough, and then, well, soap made a triumphant and bubble-free return to the Jacuzzi!

One bar of Ivory soap,
60 seconds later.

The project was simple, and surprisingly delightful. Just like so many things we’ve done since my relaxation resolution kicked in. There will be time for work, time for chores, and plenty of time to worry. For now, I’m going to enjoy what I have – a playful and happy family, ideas to pursue, and at last, time for both.

I could get used to the view from this hammock.