Back Yard Jelly
Many years ago I was introduced to violet jelly. Someone brought it to work and it was a tasty little jelly with the most amazing violet color. More recently, a local craftswoman I met mentioned she makes the violet jelly and sells it at farmers markets and specialty stores and it demands what I thought to be a rather high price. The wheels started turning in my head and I thought maybe I should try my hand at making the jelly and if it turned out, maybe I could market "Goodness Grows Farm Violet Jelly."
The April showers have brought a plethora of violets to our yard here at Goodness Grows Farm, so I decided to try my hand at making it. This little section of yard is what inspired me. It was dotted with the tiny purple violets that are so pretty but so fleeting.
I did what probably a lot of American farmwives do now a days and I Googled "Violet Jelly." The first site that came up was Prairielandherbs.com .
Under their recipe section I found: Prairie Land Herbs Violet Jelly.
The recipe is as follows:
This is a little section along my driveway. This 2' x 4' section was all I needed to pick in order to get a colander full. I say that with a bit of sarcasm because although it was a very small section, picking violets is very tedious. I hadbribed offered my children money to help me, but they tired quickly. Clearly they have not received the memo that suspends child labor laws for farm wives trying to force their children to pick violets.
I had several stops and starts to my picking process, so it took me over two hours to complete my task - and since it was a warm day and the violets started to wilt a bit once I plucked the flowery head off the stem, so they began to compact in the colander. When all was said and done, I had four heaping cupfuls of violets.
So I also picked a colander full of dandelions. I rinsed them thoroughly and followed the directions of cutting as much of the green sepals off of the yellow petals.
I ended up with some green still attached, but overall, my measuring cup looked like this.
I was quite dubious about the methods, but I followed the recipe.
I boiled the water, placed the thoroughly rinsed petals in jars and poured the boiling water over the petals, capped the jar and let the mix steep for 24 hours. As you can see, as soon as the boiling water was poured over the petals, the violet color began to seep from the petals - just like tea.
I had enough for two jars of violets and one jar of dandelions.
The violet mixture eventually gets VERY dark. Like, royal purple dark. You can see that the violets actually start to lose their pigment and the petals turn white.
The dandelion water gets very dark - almost a dirty honey color.
After steeping for 24 hours, I lined my mesh colander with cheesecloth and emptied the jars. The violets were saturated with the water and when I poured the water out, I only had one and a quarter cups of liquid. I was glad I ended up deciding to use the cheesecloth because I was able to squeeze the remaining liquid from the violets to get the recommended two cups of liquid.
See how dark the liquid is?
I repeated the process because I was going to double the batch.
I poured the liquid into my cast iron enameled pot and whisked in sugar and lemon juice.
I also boiled the jars and lids, prepped them and kept them warm to pour in the jelly.
So now is the point in the story where I tell you that while I doubled the liquid portion of the recipe, I forgot to double the sugar and lemon. I got all the way through of boiling the liquid, adding the pectin, pouring the mix into jars, putting the lids on the jars, boiling the jars for 10 minutes BEFORE I realized I had forgotten to add the extra sugar and lemon juice.
So, what did I do?? I tried looking up a solution on the internet, but didn't find any fast answers, so I poured the liquid all back into the pot, added the sugar and lemon juice, brought it back to a boil and repeated the process. There was a bit more foam to skim this time, but it all seemed to work out. The jelly gelled and I had eight jars of jelly instead of just four.
I then cleaned all of my pots, utensils, etc., and repeated the process for the dandelion jelly. I heeded the advice from the recipe and I added yellow food coloring to get a more yellow color and got a really pretty color. I do think next time I make the jelly I won't and see how the color turns out. The only reason I added the food coloring was because I had the sneaky suspicion that my children would be confused when searching for the honey because the colors of the jelly and our natural honey are so similar.
As I was looking at the jars, I remembered the Christmas gift I had received from my sisters. An embosser from Williams Sonoma.
The embosser has an engraving plate that says, "Goodness Grows Farm." To be honest, I'm not sure if the design in the middle is supposed to be an "S" or if it is just a symbol of some sort, but I'll play it off and pretend it is an "S."
The stickers were the perfect size for the lids of the jelly jars.
My dozen jars of jelly. All in all, the process took me about 3 hours due to jar sterilizing and the mix up with the violet jelly. However, I am going to look into the dishwasher processing of the jars - where you time your dishwasher cycle to end just as you are ready to pour your jelly into the still warm jars. From what I have read, it is just as sterile and as easy. I'm torn about the final processing aspect - whether I need to boil the filled jars the additional 10 minutes or if I can just let them seal on their own. Most of my jar lids actually "popped" before I even put them in the hot water for final processing, which means it was sealed properly and should not spoil.
Additionally, I am going to break down the cost of making the jelly. I happened to have lemons on hand, but I am going to investigate purchasing certified organic lemons and sugar to see what the cost for producing an "organic" product would be and if the cost would be worth even trying to sell. I'm also going to look into getting my kitchen USDA certified so I can sell the jellies at local farmers markets and specialty stores. Keep you eyes out!
My second sister graduated from Pitt on Friday with her MBA. So I packed these jars for her and gave them to her as a little gift. I told her even if she didn't want to eat them, she could put them on a shelf and they would look pretty.
The April showers have brought a plethora of violets to our yard here at Goodness Grows Farm, so I decided to try my hand at making it. This little section of yard is what inspired me. It was dotted with the tiny purple violets that are so pretty but so fleeting.
Under their recipe section I found: Prairie Land Herbs Violet Jelly.
The recipe is as follows:
2 heaping cups of fresh violet petals (see note below) 2 C boiling wter 1/4 C well-strained, clear lemon juice 4 C sugar 3 oz liquid pectin (Certo) NOTE: Look for fully opened flowers, not partially opened buds, for better color and more intense flavor. |
Wash petals well, drain and place in heat-proof glass or nonreactive bowl. Pour boiling water over petals and let steep from 30 minutes to 24
hours. It usually takes about two hours for violets. Strain through a fine sieve, reserving the clear, purplish liquid or infusion. If not using
immediately, refrigerate up to 24 hours.
Place jars and lids on rack in pan or stockpot deep enough to cover them with about two inches of water, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer, keeping the jars hot until ready to fill.
To make the jelly, stir lemon juice and sugar into reserved infusion in a two-quart nonreactive or stainless steel pan. Bring to a full rolling boil that cannot be stirred down. Add the liquid pectin and continue to boil two minutes, skimming any foam that may rise to the surface.
Ladle quickly into jars to within about 1/8 inch from the top; clean each rim and threads of the jar as it's filled, and place flat lid and ring on each before filling the next.Place the jars in a hot-water canning bath and boil for 10 minutes (or the appropriate time for your area). After canning, carefully check to make sure the lids have all sealed.
Sealed jars will last up to one year in a cool, dark place. Put any unsealed jelly in the refrigerator. it should keep about three weeks. Makes four or five half-pint jars.
I photographed this little patch of violets to show you how bountiful it was:
and how quickly I plucked the heads off the stems and put them in my colander.
This is a little section along my driveway. This 2' x 4' section was all I needed to pick in order to get a colander full. I say that with a bit of sarcasm because although it was a very small section, picking violets is very tedious. I had
I had several stops and starts to my picking process, so it took me over two hours to complete my task - and since it was a warm day and the violets started to wilt a bit once I plucked the flowery head off the stem, so they began to compact in the colander. When all was said and done, I had four heaping cupfuls of violets.
As I was picking violets, I noticed the dandelions that are also growing so bountifully in our yard. The amount of dandelions and the fact that under the violet jelly recipe on the prairielandherbs.com website was a recipe for dandelion jelly had me thinking I would try my hand at dandelion jelly.
I boiled the water, placed the thoroughly rinsed petals in jars and poured the boiling water over the petals, capped the jar and let the mix steep for 24 hours. As you can see, as soon as the boiling water was poured over the petals, the violet color began to seep from the petals - just like tea.
I had enough for two jars of violets and one jar of dandelions.
The violet mixture eventually gets VERY dark. Like, royal purple dark. You can see that the violets actually start to lose their pigment and the petals turn white.
The dandelion water gets very dark - almost a dirty honey color.
I repeated the process because I was going to double the batch.
I poured the liquid into my cast iron enameled pot and whisked in sugar and lemon juice.
Once the sugar and lemon juice are added to the mixture, the liquid gets lighter in color.
So now is the point in the story where I tell you that while I doubled the liquid portion of the recipe, I forgot to double the sugar and lemon. I got all the way through of boiling the liquid, adding the pectin, pouring the mix into jars, putting the lids on the jars, boiling the jars for 10 minutes BEFORE I realized I had forgotten to add the extra sugar and lemon juice.
So, what did I do?? I tried looking up a solution on the internet, but didn't find any fast answers, so I poured the liquid all back into the pot, added the sugar and lemon juice, brought it back to a boil and repeated the process. There was a bit more foam to skim this time, but it all seemed to work out. The jelly gelled and I had eight jars of jelly instead of just four.
I then cleaned all of my pots, utensils, etc., and repeated the process for the dandelion jelly. I heeded the advice from the recipe and I added yellow food coloring to get a more yellow color and got a really pretty color. I do think next time I make the jelly I won't and see how the color turns out. The only reason I added the food coloring was because I had the sneaky suspicion that my children would be confused when searching for the honey because the colors of the jelly and our natural honey are so similar.
As I was looking at the jars, I remembered the Christmas gift I had received from my sisters. An embosser from Williams Sonoma.
The stickers were the perfect size for the lids of the jelly jars.
My dozen jars of jelly. All in all, the process took me about 3 hours due to jar sterilizing and the mix up with the violet jelly. However, I am going to look into the dishwasher processing of the jars - where you time your dishwasher cycle to end just as you are ready to pour your jelly into the still warm jars. From what I have read, it is just as sterile and as easy. I'm torn about the final processing aspect - whether I need to boil the filled jars the additional 10 minutes or if I can just let them seal on their own. Most of my jar lids actually "popped" before I even put them in the hot water for final processing, which means it was sealed properly and should not spoil.
Additionally, I am going to break down the cost of making the jelly. I happened to have lemons on hand, but I am going to investigate purchasing certified organic lemons and sugar to see what the cost for producing an "organic" product would be and if the cost would be worth even trying to sell. I'm also going to look into getting my kitchen USDA certified so I can sell the jellies at local farmers markets and specialty stores. Keep you eyes out!
Now I just have to convince Erik that I need to buy a jelly cabinet to display all my beautiful wares.
Pillowcase dresses
With the warmer weather approaching and spring consignment sales picking up, I am obsessed with finding quick, easy sundresses for Maggie. Unfortunately, they are priced more than I want to pay for something that is either going to be worn through mud and manure or only as a bathing suit cover up. So I started searching the web, and came across these "pillowcase dresses."
The original design for the dress is centuries old I imagine - made literally from old pillowcases. Ones I saw online are typically made of those charming vintage cases with the lovely embroidery on the open side. After looking at several sites, I decided I could probably make the dress myself. And I could do it without a pattern.
I wanted some color and pattern to my dresses so I headed to JoAnn for a look-see. I fell in love with HUNDREDS of fabrics. But I limited myself to just a few this first go round. I ended up with a watermelon print, a sweet turquoise and celery paisley and I grabbed this strawberry fabric because it has the elasticized top that makes a really cute dress, and would be so easy to make! I also picked up coordinating green satin ribbon for the straps/neck ties and
This is the first version of the dress I made. I didn't add anything to the chest of the dress, just folded down the top of the dress about 1/4 of an inch, ironed it, then folded it over again about 1/2 an inch and sewed it straight across. Then I took green ribbon, attached a safety pin to one end and threaded it through the front and back "yoke" of the neck. The ribbon can be tightened to accommodate almost any size.
I'm still experimenting with technique, but overall, it's been a rewarding process. I'm not sure if I'm saving that much money as fabric is still rather price, but I guess if you factor I'm getting on average two dresses per yard, and I only am spending $3.99 a yard, the dress prices out under $5. Not bad for a novice seamstress.
Now, here's hoping Maggie likes all the dresses I make!
Pretty little Milkmaid
Last year about this time, I mentioned to my friend, C, that I had seen the most adorable little butter dish in my Country Living magazine. It was shaped like a little doll.
I said it was in the Anthropologie catalog so it must be expensive.
Fast forward a few months and Whitaker was born. After he was born, C gave me this HUGE box. Inside the box is a smaller box containing the little yellow Milkmaid butter dish.
Thank you for your interest in the Milkmaid Butter Dish. This item is currently available. You may place your order by contacting us at 1-800-309-2500. Please refer to item number 973751. Quantities are very limited; to ensure that you receive this item you will want to order as soon as possible.
If you require additional assistance or have any other questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at service@anthropologie.com.
Please include this email with your reply.
Sincerely,
Amber Hart
Anthropologie
As soon as I opened the lid, I could see the bottom dish was shattered.
I gingerly pulled it out to see that it was broken in many pieces.
But the top portion was perfect! The little milkmaid was in perfect health!
I called Anthropologie's customer service line and explained to the representative what had happened. She immediately issued a refund and when I asked how I was to ship the broken item back, she said, "Oh, no. We don't expect it to be returned. We cannot have broken porcelain going through the mail." She then proceeded to give me the phone numbers for stores across the country that still had the milkmaid in red in stock. I could call them and ask them to ship a new one if I so desired.
I pulled it out and placed the little red milkmaid on top and voilà!
So now I have two beautiful little ladies to hold my butter.
The lady in red.
I said it was in the Anthropologie catalog so it must be expensive.
Fast forward a few months and Whitaker was born. After he was born, C gave me this HUGE box. Inside the box is a smaller box containing the little yellow Milkmaid butter dish.
I was beyond touched, thrilled and so excited. She told me that she tried to get me the red one, but it was out of stock. It became a cherished item in my house, and like many cherished (and fragile) items, I did not know what to do with her. I mean, if you use her, you run the risk of chipping, or worse, breaking her!
But, if you don't use her, what's the point of having her? I mean, of course she looks adorable just sitting around, but in order for people to see her, I have to have her out!
I did have her sit around for a while, but then I started using her for her intended purpose. I slapped some butter under her skirt and we've used her for months. The children were all instructed that she was a precious item and that they MUST be careful with her.
That is until last Sunday. Last Sunday, it was just me, Maggie & Whitaker. I was feeding Whitaker in his high chair and while my back was turned, the go-go gadget arms that only a baby possesses managed to reach the little milkmaid and knock her from the kitchen island onto the floor.
The carnage was awful.
I was devastated. I know she was just a thing, but she represented so much. In the back of my mind, I imagined that I was going to give this butter dish to Whitaker's wife when she had her first baby. I'd tell her all about where the dish came from, the importance of C in my life, and how important friendships are once you become mother. I picked up every piece off the floor and set the pieces to soak in hot water to get the butter off. I then ran to the computer and went to Anthropologie.com to see if I could buy a replacement. They were no longer in the catalog. I google searched every tag that could remotely relate to the dish and still nothing. I looked at ebay, replacements.com, every non-traditional auction site online. I even searched craigslist in various large cities in other states. NOTHING!
With little hope left, I went back to Anthropologie.com and zipped off an email to customer service:
I received a yellow Milkmaid Butter Dish as a gift after I had my last baby. My son accidentally knocked it off the counter and broke it. Not only is it my most favorite kitchen accessory, it holds great sentimental value and I desperately want to replace it. Can you help???
Sincerely,
Sincerely,
Jennifer Schwalm
Monday morning, around 7:30, I check my email and there in my box is a reply:
Hello Jennifer,
Thank you for your interest in the Milkmaid Butter Dish. This item is currently available. You may place your order by contacting us at 1-800-309-2500. Please refer to item number 973751. Quantities are very limited; to ensure that you receive this item you will want to order as soon as possible.
If you require additional assistance or have any other questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at service@anthropologie.com.
Please include this email with your reply.
Sincerely,
Amber Hart
Anthropologie
7:45 AM, I was on the phone with Anthropologie and I ordered TWO new dishes. One Yellow and one Red!
Thursday, the UPS man showed up at the door with a big box with Anthropologie on the return address. I knew as soon as the UPS man handed me the big box, something was broken. You could hear the tinkling of broken porcelain that easily. I gingerly opened the box and found two smaller boxes inside. The first box was the yellow Milkmaid. She was intact. The obvious conclusion was that the red one was broken. I still held out a little hope that maybe it wasn't really broken - maybe the packaging wasn't as good and the top was clanking against the bottom.
I called Anthropologie's customer service line and explained to the representative what had happened. She immediately issued a refund and when I asked how I was to ship the broken item back, she said, "Oh, no. We don't expect it to be returned. We cannot have broken porcelain going through the mail." She then proceeded to give me the phone numbers for stores across the country that still had the milkmaid in red in stock. I could call them and ask them to ship a new one if I so desired.
Since the lid to the little lady was still in perfect condition, I figured I could find a replacement bottom until I remembered to go to the store and buy some porcelain repair glue to see if I could glue the bottom back together.
I have a small collection of red transfer ware plates that I had started collecting back when I was just out of college and living on my own in a little three level townhouse in Seven Fields. Blue transfer ware has always been popular, and since I love red, it seemed a natural choice for a "grown up" collection. Just as I started collecting the red transfer ware, Country Living magazine featured a huge article on transfer ware in general and the red became a new collectors item. After that I could rarely get my hands on a saucer for under $20 - prior, I had been picking up actual dinner plates for under that price. Thus, my collecting of vintage red transfer ware ended. I still occasionally pick up a new piece at TJ Maxx or Marshalls, but the vintage stuff is out of my price range.
So, I had a pair of these vintage saucers in the cupboard that I use as serving pieces at different functions.
I pulled it out and placed the little red milkmaid on top and voilà!
It didn't match up perfectly, but it will work for now.
So now I have two beautiful little ladies to hold my butter.
And her pretty little yellow friend.
They now sit on top of the refrigerator and I won't make the mistake of leaving them anywhere that could be in reach of Mr. Whitaker.
The broken pieces are in a box in the closet, waiting for me to remember to pick up some epoxy to fix them. Although my yellow lady is not the original, I will still be able to look at her and be reminded of my friend C. her thoughtfulness, and the friendship we share, how our friendship has enriched my life an continues to do so every day and how something as simple as a butter dish can be so much more. I can eventually pass down the "healthy" yellow milkmaid to Whit's wife, and I'll put the original one back together and continue to cherish the memory it holds for me.
Following
I don't have time to read a ton of blogs out there even though I would love to with regularity. I've seen titles for some blogs that crack me up and ones that intrigue me. I usually take a quick peek at them, but if I don't mark them immediately, I forget what they were and never get back to it.
The ones I do read with regularity, I have listed on my site. One that was recently launched, I am very excited about, called "Doorposts" which their site describes as, "weekly character-building projects, along with other articles, book reviews, and occasional giveaways. Our goal is to build up parents, encourage Bible-centered parenting, and help you get to know Doorposts and our family better. We also look forward to your comments and input, as we discuss parenting ideas and questions!"
We've used some of their materials at church and I have really enjoyed them. One that we try to utilize is the :
Based totally on Scripture, this cartoon-illustrated chart-and-book set outlines:
The ones I do read with regularity, I have listed on my site. One that was recently launched, I am very excited about, called "Doorposts" which their site describes as, "weekly character-building projects, along with other articles, book reviews, and occasional giveaways. Our goal is to build up parents, encourage Bible-centered parenting, and help you get to know Doorposts and our family better. We also look forward to your comments and input, as we discuss parenting ideas and questions!"
We've used some of their materials at church and I have really enjoyed them. One that we try to utilize is the :
Brother Offended Checklist |
- 9 steps for an offended person to follow
- 5 steps to encourage the offender to confess and forsake his sin
- 10 Scripture-based guidelines for parents when they must assume the role of judge in offenses.
- Examples from lives in the Bible
- What to do with a false witness
- How to discipline a child who takes pleasure in getting another child in trouble
Includes a chart outlining steps for both parties, with Scripture and cartoon drawings, and a 28 page booklet giving further directions, ideas, and verses that apply. The booklet material can easily be incorporated into your family worship time.
Having this around helps us when our instinctual answer is to say "Because I said so!"
Anyway, Doorposts just launched as Blog, so I wanted to share this in case anyone else was interested.
Time: Part 4,861
If you follow my ramblings with any regularity, it is likely that due to the very quantity of posts I write on this subject, you have some idea of my perception of time, how fast it is going, and how it means my children are growing up.
Tonight I had one of those shocking realizations of how fast time is passing. It all started very innocently. This morning, when getting the kids in the car to go to swimming lessons, I decided to forego the standard infant carrier carseat we have been using the past nine plus months and I strapped Whitaker into Willie's convertible carseat.
He LOVED it!
I took those photos with my iphone and sent my Mom a picture. She responded with an appropriate text response: "how cute. . . perfect timing 2 b a big boy . . . his last day as the baby of our family"
(I guess I should insert here that my sister is scheduled to have her labor induced tomorrow morning bright and early, so with luck, by lunchtime I will have a brand spanking new niece or nephew!)
As I read those words, a sudden panic came over me. Whit no longer a baby?
I have been avoiding the fact that he is indeed growing up. I avoid thinking about his age and the milestones he is achieving. Seriously, I've become that mom that has to actually count out his age (picture me with that squinty, looking up to the sky face as I look at my fingers and count, "May, June, July . . ." to the current month) on my fingers in order to tell people how old he is. This isn't because I am not able to count, it is because I do not want to acknowledge how old he is. I also have found it unconcerning at all that he refuses to crawl forward or pull himself up from a sitting position at the couch or coffee table. Never mind that Walker was walking at 11 months - the other kids too - I have no comparisons. As far as I'm concerned, the last major milestone I am allowing him to have is sitting up on his own. Oh, and eating on his own. There is a refreshing freedom to be found now at suppertime because I can just cut up tiny pieces of whatever we are eating and feed it to him. I can actually try to sit and eat a few bites before one of the kids needs a refill of their drink or forgot they wanted ketchup.
But all other developmental milestones are off limits!
I know this weekend, when we go to visit my sister and her beautiful new baby, Whit is going to seem like a MONSTER and my heart is going to be a little crushed with the physical evidence that Whit is no longer a baby.
This all begs the question, "How do all of you moms out there do it? How do you deal with your kids growing up?" Because it KILLS me.
I'm sure my emotions are acerbated by the fact that I have been in planning mode for Maggie's 5th birthday next week.
FIVE
That is a big number. Big things happen at 5. Five is a long way from this:
Walker has agreed to stop growing at age eight. He chose eight because at eight he will be old enough to enter 4H shows. But he doesn't understand that just minutes ago, he looked like this:
And tomorrow we're headed to the orthodontist to have his expander adjusted.
Tonight I had one of those shocking realizations of how fast time is passing. It all started very innocently. This morning, when getting the kids in the car to go to swimming lessons, I decided to forego the standard infant carrier carseat we have been using the past nine plus months and I strapped Whitaker into Willie's convertible carseat.
He LOVED it!
I took those photos with my iphone and sent my Mom a picture. She responded with an appropriate text response: "how cute. . . perfect timing 2 b a big boy . . . his last day as the baby of our family"
(I guess I should insert here that my sister is scheduled to have her labor induced tomorrow morning bright and early, so with luck, by lunchtime I will have a brand spanking new niece or nephew!)
As I read those words, a sudden panic came over me. Whit no longer a baby?
I have been avoiding the fact that he is indeed growing up. I avoid thinking about his age and the milestones he is achieving. Seriously, I've become that mom that has to actually count out his age (picture me with that squinty, looking up to the sky face as I look at my fingers and count, "May, June, July . . ." to the current month) on my fingers in order to tell people how old he is. This isn't because I am not able to count, it is because I do not want to acknowledge how old he is. I also have found it unconcerning at all that he refuses to crawl forward or pull himself up from a sitting position at the couch or coffee table. Never mind that Walker was walking at 11 months - the other kids too - I have no comparisons. As far as I'm concerned, the last major milestone I am allowing him to have is sitting up on his own. Oh, and eating on his own. There is a refreshing freedom to be found now at suppertime because I can just cut up tiny pieces of whatever we are eating and feed it to him. I can actually try to sit and eat a few bites before one of the kids needs a refill of their drink or forgot they wanted ketchup.
But all other developmental milestones are off limits!
I know this weekend, when we go to visit my sister and her beautiful new baby, Whit is going to seem like a MONSTER and my heart is going to be a little crushed with the physical evidence that Whit is no longer a baby.
This all begs the question, "How do all of you moms out there do it? How do you deal with your kids growing up?" Because it KILLS me.
I'm sure my emotions are acerbated by the fact that I have been in planning mode for Maggie's 5th birthday next week.
FIVE
That is a big number. Big things happen at 5. Five is a long way from this:
Walker has agreed to stop growing at age eight. He chose eight because at eight he will be old enough to enter 4H shows. But he doesn't understand that just minutes ago, he looked like this:
And tomorrow we're headed to the orthodontist to have his expander adjusted.
And Willie - well, I will be honest in saying that I am looking forward to outgrowing this three year old stage. As loveable as he is, I did not expect this guy:
To turn into this guy:
And I completely forgot that nine months of growing a baby inside your belly is nothing compared to nine months watching him grow outside.
One year ago, I had this:
Nine months ago, I had this:
And every day, I wake up to this beautiful boy who is TRULY the happiest baby in the world:
I am so very blessed, and so very grateful for the privilege of getting to raise these four creatures. They have taught me so much about God's love. What an honor it is to be their mother. My fervent prayer is that I will cherish every moment and hold it fast to my heart. I try not to take for granted that every moment I have is precious. And there is not one thing about it I would want to miss!
maggies5th
Petite Potentate Pink Birthday Invitation
Happy birthday to you. Birthday wishes by Shutterfly.
View the entire collection of cards.
With Love, I Plead, BAN THE BAG!
Valentines Day is Monday and as is tradition, both Walker and Maggie came home with notes in their backpacks from the party planning moms that said, "Our party is Monday, blah blah, if you wish to send in an item for the treat bag, please have it to the teacher by blah, blah, blah."
I'm going to let you in on a secret. I hate this treat bag party tradition.
Here's my list of why I hate this tradition:
1. My children do not need anymore candy than I already provide for them. In fact, during my recent cabinet cleaning, I threw out about 500lbs of left over JUNKY Halloween candy.
2. When asked to provide treats for an entire class, most parents turn to the least expensive bag with the highest quantity of candy which inevitably turns out to be the super-saver extra large, jumbo sized bag of Laffy Taffy, Pixie Sticks, Sweet Tarts, fruity Tootsie Rolls, and Dum Dum lollipops. It's quick, it's easy and you can buy one bag and get 5 million candies - enough to share with each child's classroom. Bing Bang Boom, you're in and out of the Walmart and done.
3. Those candies suck! (Sorry if you love these candies, but if you really want to give a "treat", give some GOOD candy. A mini Dove, a Hersheys kiss. Just sayin').
4. My children do not need another Oriental-Trading- Dollar- Tree-Dollar -Store -made -in- China plastic miniature toy that will get left on the floor for me to step on or for the baby to put in his mouth and potentially choke to death if he does not first bite it into pieces with his incredibly razor sharp baby teeth and swallow it bit by bit leaving me not to worry about his lead levels but his Cadmium levels as we all know this is now the chemical to worry about.
I'm going to let you in on a secret. I hate this treat bag party tradition.
Here's my list of why I hate this tradition:
1. My children do not need anymore candy than I already provide for them. In fact, during my recent cabinet cleaning, I threw out about 500lbs of left over JUNKY Halloween candy.
2. When asked to provide treats for an entire class, most parents turn to the least expensive bag with the highest quantity of candy which inevitably turns out to be the super-saver extra large, jumbo sized bag of Laffy Taffy, Pixie Sticks, Sweet Tarts, fruity Tootsie Rolls, and Dum Dum lollipops. It's quick, it's easy and you can buy one bag and get 5 million candies - enough to share with each child's classroom. Bing Bang Boom, you're in and out of the Walmart and done.
3. Those candies suck! (Sorry if you love these candies, but if you really want to give a "treat", give some GOOD candy. A mini Dove, a Hersheys kiss. Just sayin').
4. My children do not need another Oriental-Trading- Dollar- Tree-Dollar -Store -made -in- China plastic miniature toy that will get left on the floor for me to step on or for the baby to put in his mouth and potentially choke to death if he does not first bite it into pieces with his incredibly razor sharp baby teeth and swallow it bit by bit leaving me not to worry about his lead levels but his Cadmium levels as we all know this is now the chemical to worry about.
There are several ironies to this treat bag situation.
The first is that my family is already overly blessed in the toy and goodie department. In fact, as parents, Erik and I struggle with how much excess our kids have. I struggle daily with the dilemma of too many toys, not enough organization, and deciding whether I should keep items because they were given as gifts, donate them to a cause that could use them, or is that wasteful because it is likely that having three boys, one of the younger boys will receive a duplicate gift to the one we've given away because a well-meaning relative sees that we don't have that particular type of tractor/truck/farm animal in our collection and "By Jove" they've found the perfect gift for us. (repeat cycle). We are trying to teach our children to first be grateful for what they have, second, not fall into the societal traps of envy and want, and third, not expect something at every little occasion.
I wonder what happened to the days of the party moms planning some games, doing a craft and then the class enjoyed a nice home-made (or store bought) treat. A heart shaped cookie, a red iced, red velvet cupcake or some rice Krispy treats with those red, white and pink sugar balls sprinkled on them? Remember when that was the treat? And what about when someone brought in cupcakes baked in an ice cream cone??? Holy Moly that was the hit of the party! Right? If we were really lucky, one of the moms brought in juice boxes to go with the snack. If not, we got a dixie cup from the teacher and got some water from the fountain out in the hall and carried it back to our desks. We liked it, we appreciated it and we looked forward to it. Then we'd take out our Valentines cards, go around and drop them in our classmates decorated boxes and we'd be done. We'd grab our full box and head home and maybe find some candy Necco conversation hearts in our boxes from our teacher.
There is all this campaigning for us to teach our children respect, acceptance and tolerance no matter what. I am not opposed to this. So, my question is, what does distributing a treat bag teach our kids about acceptance for just being who you are? My educated guess as to why we celebrate Valentines Day in school is to allow our kids to show friendship and love to each other, to encourage them to extend the virtues of universal friendship to everyone - this is why the teacher usually sends home the prerequisite note saying that the students are expected to bring a Valentine card in for EVERY student in the class. If we are sending in gifts as well as the cards, aren't we teaching our kids that a card is not enough to demonstrate our affection to someone - that we must buy their friendship with candy or toys? I'm pretty sure Patrick Dempsey illustrated quite conclusively that money "Can't Buy Me Love."
(On a side note, after searching for this image, I realized that I married Ronald Miller - that's another blog post entirely!)
Third, our governments, Local, State and Federal invest millions of dollars each year into educational programs designed to teach our children about the evils of junk food, the importance of eating healthy and exercising daily. In fact, at the PA State Farm Show, there was an entire exhibit geared towards teaching kids about "60 minutes a day" which not only taught the kids aerobic dance style exercises, but offered FREE exercise videos to take home. Our school lunch menu features the fruits and vegetable choices prominently. Whole wheats and multigrains are italicized to highlight the progressive healthy choices that are offered. We get "help at home" sheets offering advice on how to make and keep our kids healthier. We even get a note from the school nurse stating that our child's Body Mass Index (BMI) has been measured and based on the results, we are given tips on how to reduce or maintain the results. I am not opposed to this.
Additionally, the classrooms have separate garbage cans for regular trash and paper that can be recycled. The cafeteria has recycling garbage cans. The kids are presented with programs, assemblies and other curriculum to encourage environmental awareness. I am not opposed to this.
Even Disney Channel gets in on the bandwagon with their partnership with the First Lady in commercials highlighting the fight against Childhood Obesity. Disney also sponsors a "Friends for Change" campaign encouraging kids to go green, to reduce consumption of electricity, plastic bottles, car emissions, etc. An encouraging campaign, right?
So, what does this have to do with our kids? Well, what kind of mixed messages are we sending when our schools have educational programs telling our kids to eat healthy and exercise, then we send them home from a party with two pounds of sugary candy? What message does it send when schools and television stations tell our kids to "make a change" "reduce, reuse, recycle" and DIScourage kids from consuming more, but we send them home from a class party with a PLASTIC goodie bag filled with PLASTIC wrapped candies and PLASTIC toys made in a factory and designed to exploit the mass consumerism of American children?
I know it is pretty ridiculous to get all upset over these little goody bags. They truly are innocent enough and I'm sure the distribution of them was designed to allow every child have that feeling of excitement of receiving a gift at the end of a party. However, not only have they become so common that their existence becomes ho-hum and ordinary, but we are filling them with JUNK that is harmful to our bodies and our environment.
This post wasn't meant to be soap boxy, but it was inspired by a post from a friend on Facebook who is new to this whole school party experience and she commented that she took the teachers note asking to send in Valentines cards for the class at face value and she was shocked that her child came home with a goody bag full of stuff. It sparked some interesting comments. Overall, the general consensus was that for the most part, moms HATE these goody bags, not for the reasons I mentioned, but just because Moms HATE having to CLEAN UP THE MESS the wake of these goody bags leave. "Nothing irks me more than finding those little dollar store bag fillers (balls, cheap toys, etc.) all over my house. Its just more crap for me to throw away! " was the quote from one mom.
I agree. I am sick of the bag fillers! While the reasons I stated above are very valid and when I dig deep, are actual reasons why I hate those bag fillers, the real reason I hate the treat bags is that I truly, madly, deeply, abhor picking up, keeping track of, stepping on, retrieving, and eventually throwing away the junk. If it is not a toy bag filler, it's the candy. The candy just sits in a big bin in the cupboard until January rolls around and I throw the whole bunch out. Now that Walker has braces and an expander, he can't even EAT the candy he's going to receive.
So, for all of us in the minority who hate the goody bags. BAN THE BAGS! Say you're doing it for your child's health, say you're doing it for the environment, or go ahead and say you're doing it because there's this one bitchy mom in your kids class (me) who hates the goody bag. But BAN THE BAG. Instead, take a little extra time, sit down with your child and help him or her understand that LOVE isn't about materialism and treat bags. Love is many things, but for our kids, it should be a sweet little 1x3 inch card from a friend. The candy will rot (well, maybe not) and the plastic made in China toy will either get broken or thrown out, but the little Valentines card may sit in a classmates keepsake box their entire life to remind them of a time when love was innocent and uncomplicated. They'll pull that little card out of their treasure box someday and read the uncertain handwriting and they will go back to first grade. They will smell paste and feel the texture construction paper, aluminum foil, and white paper doily as they cut out hearts to cover their Valentines Day box. They will remember a childhood friend, and that memory will put a smile on their face as they remember showing genuine affection for others without guile, just because they were your friend.
That's the lesson we need to teach and carry with us as we celebrate Valentines Day.
With Love . . .
Bieber Fever
We don't have Bieber Fever in our house. My kids actually don't really even know who he is. Since I am a fan of pop culture, I am aware of who he is but I have not formed an opinion of him other than for some reason, when I've seen him on TV interviews, he irritates me.
I've seen him on some talk shows where he seems like a nice enough young man, and my sister (who knows A LOT more about this kind of stuff and is much younger than I am and way more cool) says, "I think he's sweet and cute and talented and adorable and good to his mother and not a total 16 year old creep like most gross boys. His songs are catchy and adorable. And your son looks just like baby beiber."
As evidenced here:
Mr. Bieber
I've seen him on some talk shows where he seems like a nice enough young man, and my sister (who knows A LOT more about this kind of stuff and is much younger than I am and way more cool) says, "I think he's sweet and cute and talented and adorable and good to his mother and not a total 16 year old creep like most gross boys. His songs are catchy and adorable. And your son looks just like baby beiber."
As evidenced here:
Mr. Bieber
Willie J
Thanks, Justin Bieber for the very funny commercial for Best Buy last night at the Superbowl
I filmed this of Willie J today:
And I'm thinking if Justin Bieber can do it, maybe Willie J has a chance at fame as well. He rocks a mean Paper Jams guitar after all.
Pittsburgh's Goin' to the Superbowl!
Most Pittsburgh Steeler fans know that you are BORN a Steelers fan. I was born a Steelers fan and I am raising my children to be Steelers fans. My affinity for the Steelers comes from my Papa. He's one of the lucky ones at the Superbowl today!
Thanks, Papa, for creating this legacy for us. Forever in my heart, the Pittsburgh Steelers will be synonymous with Papa. We love you!
Erik and Walker at their first Steelers game in 2004.
Walker gets his first Steelers Jersey in 2005.
I said the day of the playoff game that if the Steelers won, we'd have a Superbowl birthday party for Walker. They won, we had the party and the Steelers won the Superbowl.
Maggie May in her first Steelers cheerleader uniform.
Our dear friends, Steph and Jeff. They were moving to Illinois in a few weeks and as a goodbye gift, Steph and I were in cahoots and I managed to score tickets to the game from my Papa. One of the reasons we got tickets was because the game an 8:00 start on a weeknight AND the temperature was forecasted to be in the teens. It was freezing cold and it was AWESOME!
Erik and I at that freezing Steelers game!
Walker, Maggie & Will cheering on the Steelers in 2008.
Papa and his great niece in Tampa, where they live, on a little visit prior to him going to the Superbowl.
Papa, my Uncle Mike (right) and Ron and his daughter and son in Tampa. Ron is the son of my Grammie (Papa's wife) brother, and they had a nice little visit before Mike & Papa got to go to the Superbowl.
Our little hometown newspaper even did a story on him:
Some of the kids in attendance.
Erik and I got to go to the season opener last year - what an amazing experience. The entrance:
The Jumbotron showing live feed of the Tim McGraw and Black Eyed Peas concert going on at Point State Park.
Heinz Field from the Clipper shuttle on the river.
Just over a year ago, we did a Steelers portrait of all the grandkids in their Steelers gear.
Livy Lu getting her picture taken.
Papa with all grandkids and great grandkids. In all, Papa can lay claim being the cause of 4 children, 12 grandchildren and 6 (and one on the way) great-grandchildren becoming fans of the Pittsburgh Steelers.
We're hosting our third Steelers Superbowl Party in just a few minutes hoping that, like the playoff beard, hosting a party once again will lead to another Steelers SUPERBOWL VICTORY!
Willie predicts several TOUCHDOWNS!
Walker shows the fierceness of the defense!
Maggie cheers, V-I-C-T-O-R-Y That's the Steelers Battle CRY!
And Whitaker is taking a nap in preparation for the long game.
Here we go, Steelers, Here we go! PITTSBURGH'S GONNA WIN THE SUPERBOWL!
Thanks, Papa, for creating this legacy for us. Forever in my heart, the Pittsburgh Steelers will be synonymous with Papa. We love you!
Erik and Walker at their first Steelers game in 2004.
Walker gets his first Steelers Jersey in 2005.
Maggie May in her first Steelers cheerleader uniform.
Our dear friends, Steph and Jeff. They were moving to Illinois in a few weeks and as a goodbye gift, Steph and I were in cahoots and I managed to score tickets to the game from my Papa. One of the reasons we got tickets was because the game an 8:00 start on a weeknight AND the temperature was forecasted to be in the teens. It was freezing cold and it was AWESOME!
Erik and I at that freezing Steelers game!
The first four Steeler grandchildren - me and my sisters. (Sorry, I couldn't get it flipped).
Walker, Maggie & Will cheering on the Steelers in 2008.
Papa and his great niece in Tampa, where they live, on a little visit prior to him going to the Superbowl.
Our little hometown newspaper even did a story on him:
So did a local television station:
We held our second Superbowl Party to cheer on the Steelers and Woo-hoo, we won the one for the thumb!
Will wasn't too excited about the noise : )
Some of the kids in attendance.
Heinz Field from the Clipper shuttle on the river.
Livy Lu getting her picture taken.
Papa with all grandkids and great grandkids. In all, Papa can lay claim being the cause of 4 children, 12 grandchildren and 6 (and one on the way) great-grandchildren becoming fans of the Pittsburgh Steelers.
We're hosting our third Steelers Superbowl Party in just a few minutes hoping that, like the playoff beard, hosting a party once again will lead to another Steelers SUPERBOWL VICTORY!
Willie predicts several TOUCHDOWNS!
Walker shows the fierceness of the defense!
Maggie cheers, V-I-C-T-O-R-Y That's the Steelers Battle CRY!
Here we go, Steelers, Here we go! PITTSBURGH'S GONNA WIN THE SUPERBOWL!
Aching
We learned today that a neighbor and friend had passed away after a valiant fight with cancer.
We had the privilege of getting to know his family when we were going to the same church. Erik and I had the privilege of really getting to know his youngest son through the youth group.
My heart just aches for his family - I know they were expecting his passing, but I know the hurt is not lessened by the knowing.
My heart aches for his wife - a lovely woman who is just so caring and kind. His oldest son, with Downs Syndrome, who vacuums houses for ladies from the church. His daughter who will have to finish this semester of college grieving her father. And his youngest son, a senior in high school, who is such a wonderful young man that I hope my boys grow up to be half as wonderful as him, and who now has to finish this most special year of high school without his dad. I know that it provides some comfort to his family that he was a faithful believer and has no doubt been welcomed to Heaven. As someone who has lost a loved one, however, I know it provides comfort knowing that He is in a better place, but that fact will not lessen the despair they feel with him gone from their everyday human lives. I struggle with what exactly to pray for his family. So I turned to scripture and found:
"The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express."
Romans 8:26
So I am relying on the Holy Spirit tonight, to intercede for me, to offer the prayers that are needed, to touch the souls of those in despair, to provide whatever comfort is needed.
I admired the parenting skills of this couple for years. Going to the same church, we got to watch their interaction with their children, much older than our own, and we'd often talk about how we hoped we would be able to handle the dramas, traumas, joys and sorrows of parenting with as much confidence, love and FAITH as they did.
In my former career, I dealt a lot with troubled youth, and I always said to myself that when I encountered parents doing a great job, I would tell them what a great job they were doing because the kids were a reflection of that. It was only natural then, that one day I got to talking to our friend and told him he and his wife should write a parenting book because I just adored their kids and it was my sincerest hope that my children would grow up to be such kind and responsible teens. I asked him what advice he had for us and his reply was "you just got to stay on them, Jen. Be strict with them about the important stuff and maybe they won't like it, but it will let them know they are loved. When you're hard on them when they are young, they know better than to try anything when they're older and you can have a great relationship." I think about that a lot as I'm parenting when I wonder if I'm being too hard on my kids. But then I remember his advice, I see how his kids are turning into productive, interesting young adults, and I heed his advice. I picture his family, as they interacted in church and how they so obviously love each other and I know that love will sustain them as they grieve.
"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day - and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing."
2 Timothy 4:7-8
Love one another.
It's One Of Those Days
Today is another snow day here in Western PA. We didn't actually have any snow, just lots and lots of ice. Of course, this meant that everyone was awake by 7 AM. Erik left at 4 AM, which meant I slept fitfully for the three hours between his leaving and the kids waking. I never sleep well when he leaves because I worry about him out there on the treacherous roads with crazy people who don't want to believe the roads are treacherous.
To top that off, I'm not so much a morning person, so when we have the opportunity to sleep in, I sneak into bedrooms, close the curtains even tighter and turn off night lights to preserve the sanctity of the dark. Unfortunately, about 7, Maggie came into my room. Which was okay because I can usually turn on PBS Kids and she will lie in bed with me until hunger distracts her closer to 8:00. About 7:15, I hear the opening and slamming of dresser drawers. I knew then Williebeast was awake. He wants to get dressed right away in the morning and his three year old brain cannot be troubled to remember the order of his drawers. His dresser from top drawer to bottom goes:
Top Drawer: Underwear and socks
Second Drawer: Pajamas
Third Drawer: Play Shirts
Fourth Drawer: Play Pants
He doesn't even have to factor in his "good" clothes because they are all hung in the closet. He has to open drawers one, three and four, in that order, and he can be dressed. Unfortunately, his brian works like this.
Time to get dressed.
I need pants.
Open top drawer. Pants are not in there. Slam drawer shut.
Open second drawer. Pants not in there. Slam drawer shut.
Open third drawer. Pants are not in there. Slam drawer shut.
Open fourth drawer. Pants are there. Grab first pair of pants.
Oh! Before I put on my pants I need underwear.
Repeat drawer opening and closing in reverse until all items of clothing have been located.
Which leads to about 16 counts of drawer slamming. Which leads to the awakening of Walker, who upon being told "you have a snow day! Go back to sleep and enjoy it!" decides he cannot sleep one minute longer and has to wake up.
Insert three separate trips to the bathroom with three separate flushings and you have now woken up the baby.
Did I mention that mornings are not my favorite?
When you are up at 7 with three active kids who have torn the house apart from one end to the other by 9:15, spilled three bowls of cereal, fed the baby fruit loops, shot you three times in the face "axidwentawy" with a nerf dart gun, and then demand to go outside, it became the kind of day where you need some stupid laughs.
If you're familiar with The Far Side comics/books/calendars, you will "get" this site.
Here's a review that gives a pretty good description of what the site is about:
Who actually lives this way?
Nobody, of course. But what if they did? What would their lives and relationships be like? Actor/writer/comedian Molly Erdman provides us with her answer at a website called Catalog Living(http://catalogliving.net/page/1).
The pictures are all gorgeous -- the way catalog pictures tend to be. Serious money was spent on making these photos lush and deep and full-colored. But what are they shooting?
The entry for 21 September shows two throw pillows shaped and painted like curled-up kittycats. Erdman's caption? "Well, Elaine, if they're just pillows then why do we have a litter box? And, more importantly, who is using it?"
With most of them, however, you have to be looking at the picture as you read the caption. Otherwise it makes no sense. So all I can suggest is that you go to the site and see for yourself! It will change forever the way you look at catalogs forever.
Some of my favorites:
To top that off, I'm not so much a morning person, so when we have the opportunity to sleep in, I sneak into bedrooms, close the curtains even tighter and turn off night lights to preserve the sanctity of the dark. Unfortunately, about 7, Maggie came into my room. Which was okay because I can usually turn on PBS Kids and she will lie in bed with me until hunger distracts her closer to 8:00. About 7:15, I hear the opening and slamming of dresser drawers. I knew then Williebeast was awake. He wants to get dressed right away in the morning and his three year old brain cannot be troubled to remember the order of his drawers. His dresser from top drawer to bottom goes:
Top Drawer: Underwear and socks
Second Drawer: Pajamas
Third Drawer: Play Shirts
Fourth Drawer: Play Pants
He doesn't even have to factor in his "good" clothes because they are all hung in the closet. He has to open drawers one, three and four, in that order, and he can be dressed. Unfortunately, his brian works like this.
Time to get dressed.
I need pants.
Open top drawer. Pants are not in there. Slam drawer shut.
Open second drawer. Pants not in there. Slam drawer shut.
Open third drawer. Pants are not in there. Slam drawer shut.
Open fourth drawer. Pants are there. Grab first pair of pants.
Oh! Before I put on my pants I need underwear.
Repeat drawer opening and closing in reverse until all items of clothing have been located.
Which leads to about 16 counts of drawer slamming. Which leads to the awakening of Walker, who upon being told "you have a snow day! Go back to sleep and enjoy it!" decides he cannot sleep one minute longer and has to wake up.
Insert three separate trips to the bathroom with three separate flushings and you have now woken up the baby.
Did I mention that mornings are not my favorite?
When you are up at 7 with three active kids who have torn the house apart from one end to the other by 9:15, spilled three bowls of cereal, fed the baby fruit loops, shot you three times in the face "axidwentawy" with a nerf dart gun, and then demand to go outside, it became the kind of day where you need some stupid laughs.
So, I found a link to this website a while back and it has brought me great joy. I've posted a link to it several times on facebook, but thought today I'd share it with my faithful followers.
If you're familiar with The Far Side comics/books/calendars, you will "get" this site.
Here's a review that gives a pretty good description of what the site is about:
Uncle Orson Reviews Everything
September 19, 2010Catalog Living, Wife of the Gods
Some things are so common we don't notice how absurd they are. For instance, catalogs display pictures that are meant to be "homey." But whose home is it, anyway?Who actually lives this way?
Nobody, of course. But what if they did? What would their lives and relationships be like? Actor/writer/comedian Molly Erdman provides us with her answer at a website called Catalog Living(http://catalogliving.net/page/1).
The pictures are all gorgeous -- the way catalog pictures tend to be. Serious money was spent on making these photos lush and deep and full-colored. But what are they shooting?
The entry for 21 September shows two throw pillows shaped and painted like curled-up kittycats. Erdman's caption? "Well, Elaine, if they're just pillows then why do we have a litter box? And, more importantly, who is using it?"
With most of them, however, you have to be looking at the picture as you read the caption. Otherwise it makes no sense. So all I can suggest is that you go to the site and see for yourself! It will change forever the way you look at catalogs forever.
Some of my favorites:
There are lots more that are just as fun.
Also, my sister got me hooked on this site too:
Some recent favorites:
7th Momiversary
Today is my 7th Momiversary.
This fellow is 7.
That's ridiculous!
Just yesterday this is what he looked like!
Now he's seven and he wants to have his birthday dinner at Texas Roadhouse.
So he can get lots of cute college girls to sing him a happy birthday song after they give him a super-cool plastic cowboy hat.
Next thing you know, this hoodlum is going to be seven.
And so will this one:
Not this girl, though. She promises she won't grow up and leave me. Except maybe she will because she wants to grow up and be a Mommy.
Her dad has strictly forbidden this dream though.
Back to the seven year old . . .
Friday night, he had his first "official" sleep over. Waker invited a friend over and they watched movies and played and had a blast. Saturday,we had a sled riding/birthday party. We invited almost everyone we knew to come over and sled ride at our house and have lunch with us. It was awesome!
Friends prepping to head down the hill.
My nephew hits the "slopes."
A group shot - look at that line up!
Whit gets in on the action.
Walker and his classmate - the one person he DEFINITELY wanted at his party.
Daddy sneaked Whitaker some cake.
Hmmm - who instructed these kids to pose so prettily?
Maggie enjoys the moment too!
After all, aren't birthdays for doing just what the birthday boy wants?
This fellow is 7.
That's ridiculous!
Just yesterday this is what he looked like!
Now he's seven and he wants to have his birthday dinner at Texas Roadhouse.
So he can get lots of cute college girls to sing him a happy birthday song after they give him a super-cool plastic cowboy hat.
Next thing you know, this hoodlum is going to be seven.
And so will this one:
Not this girl, though. She promises she won't grow up and leave me. Except maybe she will because she wants to grow up and be a Mommy.
Her dad has strictly forbidden this dream though.
Back to the seven year old . . .
Friday night, he had his first "official" sleep over. Waker invited a friend over and they watched movies and played and had a blast. Saturday,we had a sled riding/birthday party. We invited almost everyone we knew to come over and sled ride at our house and have lunch with us. It was awesome!
Friends prepping to head down the hill.
My nephew hits the "slopes."
A group shot - look at that line up!
Whit gets in on the action.
Walker and his classmate - the one person he DEFINITELY wanted at his party.
Daddy sneaked Whitaker some cake.
Hmmm - who instructed these kids to pose so prettily?
Maggie enjoys the moment too!
Walker helped design his cake - we were hoping to put farm animals on sleds and skis on the cake, but the local cake decorating store only had ski figures available. I don't know why one figure was GIANT in comparison to the other skiers, and I'm not sure what the deal is with the "ski lodge" with the paddle wheel, but Walker liked it so it made the cake.
Brace Face & the Sibs
Walker got his expander and four braces put on today. He needed the braces to pull some teeth together because he had two baby molars pulled (there are no adult teeth to replace them -which is a good thing given his extremely small mouth) and to straighten out the front teeth. We have to turn the expander every other day for 20 times.
He tells me he LOVES them.
We'll see how he feels when he's not allowed to have gum, gummy bears, gummy worms, fruit snacks, lollipops, popcorn, etc!
He just ate a granola bar as an after school snack. When he was finished, he wanted some wax on his braces and I told him to go brush his teeth. He says, "Mom -mmmmmma! The girl said I only need to brush after lu-unch!
He's tickled with the fact that he got to pick out the colors for his expander.
As for the sibs, this one wants to be a dancer so very badly. And she tries to pose like one all of the time. Unfortunately, it doesn't come off as graceful as she imagines.
This one - well, he's on his way to being disowned. He says he "wikes" the stuff in the red can. Yuck!
Get out of town, kid. This here's a Pepsi drinking household. And as long as you're living under my roof, you'll be drinking what I say you will drink.
PEPSI
This kid, well, he's a Tigga. I like to pronounce Tigger like my niece, Liv does. Those of you who know Liv, know she has some speech issues (which she will undoubtedly grow out of, ufortunately). One of them, besides pronouncing the word, "Grandfather" as "DAM FODDER" (and yes, I do frequently ask her to pronounce that word) is that she sounds like she's from "New Yahk."
One day, we were watching a Pooh movie and she told me about "Tigga. Aunt Den, him's a Tiga." So now I always ask her about that cat in the Pooh movie that bounces.
Hence, how I got to the fact that this boy is a "Tigga."
Where's the Hair?
People often assume this little fella is bald.
However, this guy has plenty of hair. It's just lighter than my other kids' hair so people just assume he's bald. (and not my kid)
But he's not bald. As evidenced by these photos from this morning.
Did you ever see a bald kid with such messy hair??
Let's not even get into the fact that this bugger is 8 months old now too. And I caught him getting up on all fours today trying to crawl. I nipped that in the bud. Scooped him up, set him on his bum and told him to "SIT STILL!"
If he thinks he's going to crawl or walk or talk, he's sorely mistaken. He is THE baby and he will do as I tell him.
PA Farm Show 2011
If you ever have the chance, I highly recommend taking the opportunity to visit the PA State Farm Show in Harrisburg. There is so much to do, so much to learn.
Various High School FFA participants put together amazing exhibits highlighting advancements in agriculture. From Organic Chicken Farming - this display showcased the cleanliness of the cage free facilities to demonstrate that corporate farming can be clean and conscientious.
Whitaker even enjoyed learning about all the technological advancements in farming!
Willie demonstrates how big a tractor tire is.
Not to be outdone, Walker climbs inside too!
A kid area sponsored by the Beef Council.
Did you know . . .
The farm show also has beautiful displays.
And a large play area in the family living section. Here the kids get to dress scarecrows and play in "corn" boxes.
For some reason, my kids loved dressing these scarecrows. I suggested to Erik that I'm going to put scarecrow heads on all our clothes hangars and give the kids their laundry baskets and tell them to go dress the scarecrows!
It really a wonderful event and as a Pennsylvanian, you really should go see the amazing things Pennsylvania Farmers are doing for us.
The "Hoopty Cough"
We've got the Post-Farm Show Hoopty Cough at our house.
For those of you that don't know, the Hoopty Cough is that deep, chest rattling, bone jarring, head pounding, voice hoarsing seal-like bark that affects many people this time of year.
I made the colossal mistake of saying to Erik, "You know, here it is mid-January and no one has been sick!"
The next day I noticed a weight depositing on my chest. It got heavier and heavier throughout Monday but I kept fighting it off because I had a Kindergarten meet and greet to attend with Maggie, and a double date with new friends Monday night. It got so bad I even dragged our new friends to Target Pharmacy for some Mucinex DM!
Despite my best efforts to avoid it, I woke up Tuesday morning still fighting, but by mid afternoon, I had developed the full-fledged syndrome along with a fever, chills, body aches - well, you probably know what it is like.
No one else seemed to have any symptoms, so I thought I had avoided spreading it but late yesterday afternoon, right about the time I was feeling better, the rest of the house started showing symptoms.
This little guy is sick, but you'd never know it. The poor fella even vomited all over me last night then looked up at me with that big four tooth grin!
This gal told me she was worried because her voice sounded different. And it did. It sounds a lot like mine - like there's something stuck in her throat. I told her that we had frogs struck in our throat. Now she wants to know how frogs got into our throats.
I feel the worst for this boy. When he is sick, it shows. He gets pasty white, he gets dark circle under his eyes, and he truly just lays around. Usually when given the opportunity to watch TV, I often find him wiggling and jiggling and playing with other things while he watches. Today, I hooked up the TV in his room for him so he could stay in his bed, and he was still. Poor guy.
Everyone has been appropriately dosed with acetaminophen and is resting quietly watching the TV shows they aren't usually able to watch during the day.
I'll be catching up on everything I didn't feel well enough to get to the last few days.
And spraying the house down with Lysol.
I'm Not Going To Lie
I'm going to let you in on a little secret.
Prior to meeting Erik, I had no interest in trucks, tractors, trailers, livestock let alone farming. GASP!
I know, I have probably bowled you over. Grandpa is rolling over in his grave! Well, push your jaw back up and let me explain.
This is kind of funny, because of the two of us, and despite the fact he spent many years in 4H raising and showing rabbits, I am the one with a more agricultural background. Sure, I went to the County Fair as a kid, but only because it was just seven miles away AND, primarily because it was the only thing to do.
Prior to meeting Erik, I had no interest in trucks, tractors, trailers, livestock let alone farming. GASP!
I know, I have probably bowled you over. Grandpa is rolling over in his grave! Well, push your jaw back up and let me explain.
This is kind of funny, because of the two of us, and despite the fact he spent many years in 4H raising and showing rabbits, I am the one with a more agricultural background. Sure, I went to the County Fair as a kid, but only because it was just seven miles away AND, primarily because it was the only thing to do.
I could have never imagined that my life would to some extent revolve around farm shows, county fairs and tractor pulls. That's not even to mention what is going to happen once our kids are old enough to show goats in goat shows.
Walker learning how much "boy power" it takes to actually produce enough electricity to power a lightbulb.
Walker in front of a sow with 10 baby piglets.
Maggie tries her hand at "milking a cow"
Walker tells the exhibitor "this is hard!"
You also get to sit in some great machinery!
We are about to embark on our annual trip to the PA State Farm Show. I have to admit, I've come to look forward to it as a little mini vacation. No cooking or cleaning for a few days, a HUGE facility to explore. Free Turkey Hill ice cream samples! Fried Mozzarella cubes, milkshakes,
an afternoon trip to Hershey World! What more can a girl ask for?
More importantly, this trip has become a tradition. We have developed the same system for booking a hotel room and the last 3 years, have stayed at the same hotel. We have developed a system for eating on a budget, keeping the kids entertained, etc. Already the kids are able to say, "Remember when we did . . .?" It's exciting to me that they will have these memories of their early childhood.
So maybe we won't make it to Disney World anytime soon. It's kind of refreshing that our kids find the world of agriculture just as exciting. What other "amusement" could educate them on the people who grow the products that feed, clothe and shelter us? Pretty amazing.
The photos were taken a few years ago, but you'll see the kids having a great time!
The photos were taken a few years ago, but you'll see the kids having a great time!
Walker learning how much "boy power" it takes to actually produce enough electricity to power a lightbulb.
Walker in front of a sow with 10 baby piglets.
Maggie tries her hand at "milking a cow"
Walker tells the exhibitor "this is hard!"
You also get to sit in some great machinery!
It may be simple, but this little trip makes us all happy.
Just ask Walker
Here are some links to various PA newspapers with articles about the show. And if you have a chance, take the time to go. Admission is free, and Hotwire can find you a hotel room for under $75 a night!
Altoona Mirror
Lancaster Online
Centre Daily Times
PA State Farm Show Website
Altoona Mirror
Lancaster Online
Centre Daily Times
PA State Farm Show Website
Engaging An Imagination
Some of my most favorite moments of motherhood are engaging my kids imaginations. I had the rare chance to capture some video of Maggie using her imagination the other day. Unfortunately, it also highlighted some of the things she sees/hears around here regularly!
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Parenting: Sometimes It Ain't Pretty!
After what seems like a month of party food, big meals, cookies and cake and candy between each meal, I finally needed to get to the grocery store and buy some "real" food.
I loaded up this morning, headed to the Y for my class with the little boys and the day was off to a good start despite the fact I got to class late. (Can someone please tell me how to get my husband to factor in travel time when he is considering my schedule. I think the man thinks I can teleport because when I tell him class is at 9:30, he assumes I am leaving at 9:30!)
Class was great, as always, I got to shower semi-alone (why is it I consider showering in a room with up to 8 strangers "alone"?) and got the kids out of play place and to the car. Our first stop was Target because I wanted to browse the Christmas clearance and get Pull-Ups that were on sale. We managed to avoid a crisis in the kids clothing department when Will suddenly shouts, "I has to pee! NOW!" We ran to the family bathroom and crisis was averted. We returned to the clothing, searched through the sales - nothing I wanted was under $10 - the number one criteria for me when purchasing the clearance rack - and headed to Christmas clearance. We got to the measly clearance section and first thing I see is a blue tinsel Christmas Tree. At 75% off, it was a pretty good buy so I asked Will if he wanted it for his room. He loved the idea and we put it in his cart. A few steps down the aisle, I found the tubes of non-breakable ornaments I like for our trees. There were a lot of them so I really had to do some sorting to find the tubes with the colors I wanted. There were also bins with assorted ornaments in them and I spent some time sorting through them trying to find specific types of ornaments for the kids. I started a collection for each of them - Walker is Santa's, Maggie: Angels, Will: Reindeer and Whitaker: Snowmen. I looked for ornaments for each of them to add to their collection for next year.
During this searching and sorting, Will, who at the time was just being great -
started playing that 3 year old boredom game of telling me he didn't want the tree anymore. So I put it back on the shelf. Three steps down the aisle, he wanted the tree again. I warned him that I wasn't going to play that game and if he did it again, it was going on the shelf and staying there. Well, true to three year old spirit, he did it again and I put it back on the shelf and zoomed out of the clearance aisle.
All through electronics he cried, "I want my Christmas tree!" (Repeat continuously!)
At the baby aisle, I stopped for the Pull-Ups and the baby wipes. At this point, we're in a rip-roaring, screaming, spitting, veins popping, flipping and flailing-throwing himself out of the cart fit. (Insert image of Linda Blair in The Exorcist here!)
A guy I had seen walking around the store with a clip-board (I'm assuming he was a survey taker - I've seen them in the Target stores before) says to me, "Don't give in, Mom. If you give in now, he'll know all he has to do is do this again and he'll get his way."
Now, I know he meant well. But for some reason it really irritated me. As if I needed parenting advice at that moment. I really want to know what made him think I was going to give in? As out of control I felt, I really wasn't. I was calmly using my phone to see if the Pull-Up sale was really a bargain compared to the UP and UP brand (it was) and I was calmly (and repeatedly) telling Will, "I'm sorry, but I warned you what would happen if you said you didn't want the tree, so this is the consequence of your choice."
I put the Pull-Ups and wipes in the cart, and headed for the check-out. You should have seen the people staring at me. As I walked past the aisles, people looked at me and then quickly averted their eyes - as if it was shameful to look at me. Did I mention that at this point, Will had decided to throw himself out of the cart and turn his legs to jelly. He wouldn't not stand on his legs for anything, so I had hiked him under my armpit sideways, squeezed him to my side, and continued to push the cart to the check-out. Two ladies in the pharmacy aisles looked like I was actively beating him. (Judging by his wails, I'd bet people thought he was being beat) and the guy in the mens department stared at me as if I was walking naked through the store.
Guess what folks? This is what parenting looks like. It's nasty, it's ugly and sometimes it's dirty! It's sticking to your guns, biting the bullet and being a little embarrassed. Sure, it would have been much easier to abandon my cart, pick everyone up and walk out the door. But it was my job to teach Will a lesson. Did he get the lesson? I don't really know. But it's not always about the individual lesson. I know that it may take a dozen more fits in the store before my Will finally realizes what I say is truth and I will always do what I say. He will test me to the limits each and every day. And it's my job to stand my ground, bite the bullet and be a little embarrassed. Because in the end, I'm not just parenting - I'm raising a child to be an adult. I'd much rather deal with a tantruming three year old, than a tantruming 15 year old! Society is already full of those beasts.
So, the next time you are in public, and you see a woman walking through the aisles, dealing with a tantruming child, don't look at her like she's crazy. Give her a sympathetic look and tell her "Thank You!"
In the meantime, this story gets saved for the baby book. And someday I'll dig this story out to show him when he calls me to tell me about the rip-roaring, screaming, spitting, veins popping, flipping and flailing-throwing himself out of the cart fit he just experienced with his child.
And I'll LAUGH AND LAUGH!
I loaded up this morning, headed to the Y for my class with the little boys and the day was off to a good start despite the fact I got to class late. (Can someone please tell me how to get my husband to factor in travel time when he is considering my schedule. I think the man thinks I can teleport because when I tell him class is at 9:30, he assumes I am leaving at 9:30!)
Class was great, as always, I got to shower semi-alone (why is it I consider showering in a room with up to 8 strangers "alone"?) and got the kids out of play place and to the car. Our first stop was Target because I wanted to browse the Christmas clearance and get Pull-Ups that were on sale. We managed to avoid a crisis in the kids clothing department when Will suddenly shouts, "I has to pee! NOW!" We ran to the family bathroom and crisis was averted. We returned to the clothing, searched through the sales - nothing I wanted was under $10 - the number one criteria for me when purchasing the clearance rack - and headed to Christmas clearance. We got to the measly clearance section and first thing I see is a blue tinsel Christmas Tree. At 75% off, it was a pretty good buy so I asked Will if he wanted it for his room. He loved the idea and we put it in his cart. A few steps down the aisle, I found the tubes of non-breakable ornaments I like for our trees. There were a lot of them so I really had to do some sorting to find the tubes with the colors I wanted. There were also bins with assorted ornaments in them and I spent some time sorting through them trying to find specific types of ornaments for the kids. I started a collection for each of them - Walker is Santa's, Maggie: Angels, Will: Reindeer and Whitaker: Snowmen. I looked for ornaments for each of them to add to their collection for next year.
During this searching and sorting, Will, who at the time was just being great -
started playing that 3 year old boredom game of telling me he didn't want the tree anymore. So I put it back on the shelf. Three steps down the aisle, he wanted the tree again. I warned him that I wasn't going to play that game and if he did it again, it was going on the shelf and staying there. Well, true to three year old spirit, he did it again and I put it back on the shelf and zoomed out of the clearance aisle.
All through electronics he cried, "I want my Christmas tree!" (Repeat continuously!)
At the baby aisle, I stopped for the Pull-Ups and the baby wipes. At this point, we're in a rip-roaring, screaming, spitting, veins popping, flipping and flailing-throwing himself out of the cart fit. (Insert image of Linda Blair in The Exorcist here!)
A guy I had seen walking around the store with a clip-board (I'm assuming he was a survey taker - I've seen them in the Target stores before) says to me, "Don't give in, Mom. If you give in now, he'll know all he has to do is do this again and he'll get his way."
Now, I know he meant well. But for some reason it really irritated me. As if I needed parenting advice at that moment. I really want to know what made him think I was going to give in? As out of control I felt, I really wasn't. I was calmly using my phone to see if the Pull-Up sale was really a bargain compared to the UP and UP brand (it was) and I was calmly (and repeatedly) telling Will, "I'm sorry, but I warned you what would happen if you said you didn't want the tree, so this is the consequence of your choice."
I put the Pull-Ups and wipes in the cart, and headed for the check-out. You should have seen the people staring at me. As I walked past the aisles, people looked at me and then quickly averted their eyes - as if it was shameful to look at me. Did I mention that at this point, Will had decided to throw himself out of the cart and turn his legs to jelly. He wouldn't not stand on his legs for anything, so I had hiked him under my armpit sideways, squeezed him to my side, and continued to push the cart to the check-out. Two ladies in the pharmacy aisles looked like I was actively beating him. (Judging by his wails, I'd bet people thought he was being beat) and the guy in the mens department stared at me as if I was walking naked through the store.
Guess what folks? This is what parenting looks like. It's nasty, it's ugly and sometimes it's dirty! It's sticking to your guns, biting the bullet and being a little embarrassed. Sure, it would have been much easier to abandon my cart, pick everyone up and walk out the door. But it was my job to teach Will a lesson. Did he get the lesson? I don't really know. But it's not always about the individual lesson. I know that it may take a dozen more fits in the store before my Will finally realizes what I say is truth and I will always do what I say. He will test me to the limits each and every day. And it's my job to stand my ground, bite the bullet and be a little embarrassed. Because in the end, I'm not just parenting - I'm raising a child to be an adult. I'd much rather deal with a tantruming three year old, than a tantruming 15 year old! Society is already full of those beasts.
So, the next time you are in public, and you see a woman walking through the aisles, dealing with a tantruming child, don't look at her like she's crazy. Give her a sympathetic look and tell her "Thank You!"
In the meantime, this story gets saved for the baby book. And someday I'll dig this story out to show him when he calls me to tell me about the rip-roaring, screaming, spitting, veins popping, flipping and flailing-throwing himself out of the cart fit he just experienced with his child.
And I'll LAUGH AND LAUGH!