Happy Birthday, Kyle

January 11, 2012

We celebrated Kyle’s birthday when he was in town for Thanksgiving (someday, hopefully before February, I will be caught up with this blog—I have yet to bombard you with Christmas pictures). We watched the OSU vs. Michigan game, and had lunch and (vegan) chocolate cake and pudding. The cake sort of crumbled but was really good. The boys loved it. I mean, they love dessert. But they devoured this. Which was awesome because one of the main ingredients in the pudding, for example, was avocado. I must get the recipe.

The day was nice. It involved lots of good food, candles in crumbled cake in a bowl, presents, hugs, turns playing hairstylist, a color icing experiment with Nini, football and family.

Happy birthday, Kyle.

“A brother is a friend given by Nature.” —Jean Baptiste Legouve

Thanksgiving Holiday Visitors

January 8, 2012

The day after Thanksgiving we invited Katy, Tom, Colleen, Kyle and my parents over for dinner. How I wish we all lived closer and could do this routinely, monthly, even. But instead I will be grateful for evenings like these, even though rare.

“When you look at your life, the greatest happinesses are family happinesses.” —Joyce Brothers

Thanksgiving 2011

December 23, 2011

My mom’s table settings are always beautiful.

Mom, Kyle and Dad cooking in the kitchen.

Grandma making stuffing.

Mom cooking.

beautiful Colleen

Owen could have spent hours doing this.

Sophie decked out for the holiday.

fresh flowers (a gift from my dad to my mom), vintage linens, dinner plates from France, antique crystal wine glasses …

wrestling with Pop Pop

kisses

Colleen and Katy

Great Grandma gives the best back scratches.

dinner

Thankful, indeed.

“I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.” —G.K. Chesterton

Pop Pop’s Birthday

December 22, 2011

Happy birthday, Dad. I love you!

“There’s something like a line of gold thread running through a man’s words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.” —John Gregory Brown

A Holiday Bazaar

December 10, 2011

Early November my mom, Sophie, Owen and James drove up to Lewisburg, OH to attend the annual holiday bazaar at Trinity Lutheran Church.

My grandma (on the right) is very active in the church and did a lot of work for this event, as she does every year. Like most small-town church holiday bazaars, the homemade food was delicious and inexpensive (when you checked out there was a bowl of free apples, which I’m sure was from someone’s backyard). You could buy everything from candles and homemade fudge to doll clothes and jewelry at the bazaar. I even found a beautiful silver chain that reminded me of my grandma’s timeless style and warm heart. I came home with a small, handmade wooden stool for the children to use in our upstairs bathroom and a handmade wooden bench, which is perfect as a coffee table in our living room. The man who made it built a wooden cross for the church, in memory of my grandpa. And I think of that every time I prop my feet up on our new coffee table.

I love the church holiday bazaar, no matter the town. I love that everyone knows everyone and that it can take 20 minutes to walk 20 feet from all the “hellos” and “look how much they’ve grown!” and that by buying these goods, most handmade from neighbors (or, in this case, my grandma’s neighbors), you’re supporting those who surround you, in every sense of the word.

“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men.” —Herman Melville

Tom’s 30th Birthday

October 30, 2011

Early October Sophie and I joined my mom and dad for a trip to North Carolina to help celebrate my brother-in-law Tom’s 30th birthday. Because they already had a full house we stayed in a hotel, which Sophie loved. She had so much fun running the long hallway to our room, admiring the swirly carpet. She was ecstatic about sharing a bed with me, without having to plead. She loved that there wasn’t a footboard on our bed and that she was able to slide down off the end of the mattress and onto the floor over and over and over. And oh, the breakfast buffet. She discovered Fruit Loops—I don’t think she realized cereal could be so colorful or full of sugar.

She was great on the drive. We left late Friday afternoon and got to the hotel very late Friday night (or, morning, rather).

The next day we went directly over to Katy and Tom’s house, and Sophie was instantly put to work icing cupcakes.

The task had an added benefit, which she was quite happy with.

And then Colleen woke up from her morning nap. Sophie and Colleen sat on my mom’s laugh and just smiled and giggled and smiled and giggled. Oh for the chance for them to do that every weekend with each other …

my dad and Colleen

Tom’s sister Christine made lovely party decorations.

There were several children for Sophie to play with at the party—these two were practically inseparable.

Happy birthday, Tom!

Katy with Colleen and Max—see, Katy, you’re so good with two! 🙂

Everything was beautiful. This is Katy and Tom’s garage. It was spotless and filled with tables, chairs, mums, football on TV—a perfect party.

I love this picture.

We spent a lot of time in the hammock.

Nini and Colleen

Pop Pop and Colleen

Sophie made Tom a birthday card.

Tom’s sister Christine and Colleen

Tom’s family bought Tom Legos (which he loves) and graciously gave a kit to each of the children. Sophie loved her little boat and loved helping Tom with the other kits.

Sophie and Alex

Tom’s mom and a sleeping Colleen

Once darkness fell there was fire and we roasted marshmallows—a first for Sophie. This is one of my most favorite things to do and although she was exhausted and pretty much at her breaking point, I loved introducing her to this well-loved life treat.

beautiful Katy and beautiful Colleen

Saturday night Sophie woke up suddenly, coughing like a seal. Yes, croup. So she was unable to see Katy, Tom and Colleen Sunday morning, before our drive home. Sophie and I stayed in the hotel room and colored while my parents had breakfast with them and Tom’s family, and then my parents took Sophie to a park so I could say goodbye to Katy, Tom and Colleen.

The leaves were beautiful on the drive home.

“Rejoice with your family in the beautiful land of life!” —Albert Einstein

Woodfill’s Big Top Festival (Year Two)

October 19, 2011

A couple weeks ago we walked down the street to Woodfill Elementary (where Sophie will go to school) for their annual Big Top Festival. We went last year for the first time, and Sophie loved it.

A lollipop, a dandelion ripe for wish making and pink hair—a 3-1/2-year-old’s dream Saturday afternoon.

happiness

“Life is a festival only to the wise.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mid-September Tradition

October 19, 2011

Sophie’s first Pork Festival doesn’t seem like that long ago. I was about to write about this being the boys’ first Pork Festival when I realized it wasn’t—it was their second. It was Colleen’s first. Time. I know it’s cliché, but it really does fly.

I write about the Pork Festival every year. It’s a part of me, a part of my family, it’s simply what we do—so imbedded that Katy, Tom and Colleen came just for the weekend for it (and we were all so happy they did).

I like, in life, having things I do outside of holidays that I do every single year. There’s reassurance in that. Expectedness. Another symbol of another year gone by. Memories. Tradition.

Colleen was so stylish, in her dark blue jeans, white onesie and knitted pink hat.

I miss her. So much.

Aunt Ellen with my dad

Uncle Mark playing cars with Owen and James. Four children grew up in this farmhouse, the house where my grandma still lives. I’m sure there have been many toy cars pushed along these hardwood floors.

Andy and Sophie playing hide-and-go-seek in Grandma’s living room.

play time with Grandpa

Grandma, Aunt Ellen, Uncle Mark, Uncle Roger, Dad

“Tradition is the illusion of permanence.” —Woody Allen

Up Late for Apple Pie

August 3, 2011

Two nights ago Sophie helped us make an apple pie, which took an hour to cook. As such, she got to stay up past her bedtime because we decided it would be cruel to have her help make a pie, smell the pie while it’s cooking and then not be allowed to eat it. Because of bedtime. In the summer. Plus, Grandma and Paw Paw were visiting and grandparents always mean a bending of the rules.

By the time the pie cooled and she ate all her vanilla ice cream and didn’t even try the pie and then asked for more vanilla ice cream (we said no) it was 9:30pm. She curled up on the couch and asked for a blanket. I told her there were several nice warm blankets and quilts on her bed. And that it was time for bed.

She was done. It was well past her bedtime. We had visitors. She had been allowed to stay up late for dessert. She was in the mood to argue. We talked with her. Argued with her. Pleaded with her. And then, finally, I scooped her up.

Cradled in my arms, she made a round of quiet goodnights to everyone in the room. She protested once again.

“No.” I said. “It’s bedtime.”

She looked at me then, and in the softest voice said, “Do I have any other options?”

It was the sweetest and funniest thing. And how did she know that would get to me more than screaming, “I don’t want to go to bed!” Of course, I still put her to bed. As she had no other options. Which dismayed her greatly.

“Anyone who thinks the art of conversation is dead ought to tell a child to go to bed.” —Robert Gallagher

A Thank You Note from Colleen

July 29, 2011

We recently received the following e-mail:

Dear Aunt Kara and Uncle Andy,

Thank you for….

The clothes that keep me stylish. (And lets me know what team to root for).

The diapers that keep my bum dry.

The socks that keep my toes warm.

The toys that keep me smiling.

And the advice that help Mom and Dad know what to do!

Love and miss you both!

Love, Colleen

I love that we’re able to pass these things on to Colleen (I’ve been saving them!) and am so grateful for everything that’s been passed down to us, from family, friends and even strangers.

Sometimes I wonder how—and why—the big box baby stores do so well when there are so many beautiful, useable and wearable used baby items out there. A summer goal of mine is to return bins, clothes, toys, bottles, Bumbos, a breast pump, books and many, many other baby-related things to their rightful owners—and pass along what isn’t wanted back to someone else who wants and needs them.

Reuse and recycle—words so popular today yet so much a longtime natural part of raising children. Craigslist is a form of this. As are garage sales, Goodwill and consignment shops. It pains me to see toys that could easily be cleaned or repaired out on the curb for trash pick-up. An Exersaucer should last many, many children. As should links. And plastic cars. And baby dolls. And even items that get significant wear, like strollers.

I think about Bumbos. They’re easy to clean and practically indestructible. But they’re expensive. And they’re only used for about a year. They’ve been around for awhile (but are new enough that our parents wonder what they are and then comment on the fact that they never had—or needed—them when we were babies). And yet they’re on every registry I print out. One was on ours, when pregnant with Sophie. But shouldn’t there be enough used ones to go around for this year’s newborns? I understand new is nice and I appreciate the many new things we have. But I also wish I had sought out more used things when pregnant the first time around. It’s something I did much more of when pregnant with the boys. I had had several generous showers with Sophie. I didn’t want another shower for the boys. But yet I needed double of many things. Used was so easy to come by. And helpful, to us, financially, and to other parents, eager to create space in their basements and attics.

So pass along, don’t throw away. And if you are in need of something baby-related, do let me know. Now that the boys are 14 months, our attic is quickly filling with all those plastic things that made our lives so much easier those early months but are already no longer needed. And I’m eager to return the kindness that was given to us.

And yet, I confess: While I’m happy for the growth, it’s surprisingly hard to let so many of these things go. I remember when my parents gave Sophie that Reds T-shirt. And I remember the first game she wore it to, how she acted, what the weather was, how excited I was to take her. But even though I no longer have the shirt, I have the memories. And pictures. And little space. And no matter how loved, I believe a thing in use is better than a thing stored away, to what? Stumble across in a dusty box 10 years from now? No, I’d much rather see a picture of my niece in my inbox, ridiculously dressed up to show off what’s been given, what’s passed and what’s to come.

“We are not to throw away those things which can benefit our neighbor. Goods are called good because they can be used for good: they are instruments for good, in the hands of those who use them properly.” —Clement of Alexandria