{Family} Date Night In: Camping

Today was the last day of school for our daughter!

Hurray!

I'm so ready to not rush our mornings and hustle to this place and that.  I'm so ready to find splendor in the small things, like this bird's nest we found in a nearby tree.  Welcome, summer.  Welcome.

As a family, we want to celebrate the end of a school year and so we are doing a family date.  The theme: camping!

There are some die-hard campers out there who will camp out when it still gets into the 40s.  Normally, we are a part of that group.  But given my recent surgery (which limits where I can sleep and how far I can walk) and our recent recovery from a family-wide head cold, our camping will be taking place indoors.

That's right.

We are pitching a tent in the basement family room.

We are filling it with every available pillow and blanket in the house.

We are going to toast (all beef) hot dogs over a fire.

We are going to go for a "hike" around the neighborhood.

We are going to make s'mores.

We are going to tell silly stories in the tent before bedtime by the light of our headlamps (because, like I said, we are the die-hards.  Die hards don't use flashlights.  Flashlights are for amateurs).  

We are doing a family date.  Camping.  In the basement. Friday night.

You should too.

Family dates like this require minimal effort but result in maximum fun (and maximum fun=memories).

Things I Love: This Boy

About three years ago, this photo was taken.

And a year after that, this photo came on the scene.

Another year passed and we snapped this shot.

And this past Saturday, this epic moment featuring a monster truck cake with sparkler candles was caught on tape, er, or whatever the digital equivalent to "tape" is.

Has it been three years?  Has he really gotten so big?  Sometimes the days seem to go slowly but the years, oh dear friends, the years go quickly.

(BTW, the birthday cake hat is family tradition. Everyone takes a photo in it on their birthdays. It's my subtle way of reminding my family I am A). Not quite stable and B). Out to humiliate them in the name of family fun. Which is code for, in charge).

What I Think About: Puppies

Puppies.

Now there's a controversial topic if I've ever heard one, right?

If you think I'm going down this road of cat v. dog people, you're wrong.  Some people hate cats. Some people hate dogs.  What can you do?  As far as I'm concerned they just shouldn't get married (unless they have some mad compromising skills).

If you think I'm going to totally pounce on buying puppies from breeders or pet stores, you're wrong.  I have strong opinions about that.  I'm a girl who gets my pets from the shelter or rescues (since I do like one specific breed).  Buy one from a breeder, kill one from a shelter. That's my thought but if you're a breeder reader, have no fear, I'm okay agreeing to disagree.

What I really want to say is this.

I. Cannot. Stand. Puppies.

Phew.  I feel better.

Really, this friend of mine has a dog with a litter of (9!) puppies and she posts pictures of them on facebook and people leave these ooey gooey comments and I think, what am I missing?

To me, puppies smell weird and they don't do much and they make this strange pig grunt noise thing.  And when they do get old enough to do stuff it involves chewing valuables, pooping and peeping, and barking.  This leads to lots of training and gadget buying.

I guess some people look at puppies and see the possibility of those cuddly little balls of fur.  Me?  I see hard work and commitment.  Maybe it's just my personality but I just want to put my hard work and commitment into, I don't know, my children.

Anyhow, I have two dogs.  I love, love, love them.  They are amazing.  I got them from shelters/rescues older and potty trained.  My kind of dog.  All the benefits, none of the awkward puppy phase.

Our 4 legged family members: Finnigan Smooter and Brinkley Sue--Saved at a shelter older and trained.

I promise--I don't have a bad heart.  I just don't like puppies.  That doesn't make me a bad person--does it?

Thanks, Shell for letting me Pour My Heart Out on your blog.

 

Days of Play: Shape Museum

Shapes.  They are everywhere.  There are even shapes I can't remember the names of and some shape names I remember but have no idea what they look like.  Rhombus anyone?

Anyhow, sometimes pointing out shapes seems like a petty thing to "play" with children but I just want to remind you that acknowledging those octagons and parallelograms helps prepare children for geometry.  Sure that's a few years down the road but why not help them now?

Shape Museum is a fun little game we like to play at our house.  Or maybe I just like it and the kids feel like it is busy work but, being kids, it's their job to entertain me.  I don't know but it does entertain my children for 10-15 minutes WHILE teaching them about geometry.  And when I feel like I'm teaching someone, anyone, something about math, I feel brilliant.  Obviously.

So here is how you play.

Tell your kids that you are setting up a shape museum exhibit and you need their help.  Give them a pictorial check list of shapes to go "find" in the house.  Younger kids can find circles (quarter), squares (napkin), rectangles (blanket), ovals (rug from the Barbie house), etc.  Challenge older children to find three dimensional shapes like a sphere (ball), cube (dice), cylinder (can of black beans), cone (party hat), rectangular prism (cereal box), etc.

Set a time for 10-15 minutes and let your children go on a shape hunt.  You go on one, too. It's pretty lame if the museum curator doesn't bring anything to the table.

When you get all your "stuff," organize your museum exhibit.  Let your children decide how to classify.  Will they classify by shape?  By dimension?  Color?  Texture?  I'm always surprised at how my children see classification categories differently than I.

Music Monday: Thriving Ivory

I went through a music phase where I loved Indie Rock. Oh wait, I'm still going through that phase.

I know I've spent the last three weeks highlighting Indie Folk and while I dig that sound, Indie rock will always have my heart. Well, at least through my thirties.

Anyhow, Thriving Ivory is one of those great Indie Rock bands that doesn't get the attention it should because mainstream music listeners have been deluded into believing Beyonce and Justin Bieber are as good as music gets.

That caustic digression aside, this band is soooo good but my love affair with The Airborne Toxic Event kind of made me overlook them for a while. However, a few weeks ago my friend Sarah M. reminded me about Thriving Ivory. So I cued up the iPod and put my musical soul at ease to a few of their songs.

Angels on the Moon (an oldie but a goodie)

 Where We Belong

 Hey Lady

 

F is for Feelings

On Fridays I like to talk about Fashion or Fun date night ideas but yesterday something happened that made me want to talk about *gulp* feelings.

For me feelings is the actual F word.  I really don't like to talk about feelings.  Nope.  I don't.

But yesterday my daughter had her kindergarten end-of-the-year celebration.  Kids love any reason to party and this reason, in my estimation, is a good one.  School is almost out (yes, I'm one of the moms who can't wait, not one of the ones stocking up on alcohol to get me through the next couple of months).

So the celebration had what any six year old celebration has: juice, cupcakes, and just enough organization for it not to be totally chaotic.

Here's the thing.  I was late.  Really late.  I had a doctor's appointment and traffic was bad and I was late.  To make matters worse, I forgot the cookies.  Seriously, what mom forgets the cookies?  Needless to say, by the time I got to the party room I was willing myself not to blink so I wouldn't cry.  I really hate crying ruining my make up.

Even though I was late, I was just on time.  You see, this group of 22 little balls of energy were gathered on the reading rug watching a video their kindergarten teacher made about them.  Silly stories about what they want to be when they grow up (M said a cheerleader) and what they like to do in school (which one kids curtly replied, "nothing".  It wasn't my kid.  My kid wants to be a cheerleader and cheerleaders love school).

Anyhow, I'm watching these kids giggle and sigh and bounce around and it hit me.  This memory of a billion years ago when I was one of those little balls of energy watching a slideshow (an actual slide show ... the kind with miniature pictures you hope aren't in upside down that you have to click through) my kindergarten teacher made about my class.  "We Are The Children" was playing in the background ... on a tape recorder.  There were pictures of me standing next to "Tessie Toothfairy"--the class mascot we got photos with when we lost a tooth.  There was a picture of Brook's broken arm (I'm at least 48% at fault for the arm breaking. Gravity and a dangerously tall teeter-totter are also to blame).  Mike. Jeremiah. Jessica. Casey. Karla. Jason. Kevin. Bylle-Jo, Billie, Daniel ...  Oh how I remember the fun we had learning that S-S-S is for skunk and Q-Q-Q is for ... well, I don't remember what Q was for in kindergartner terms but it was probably quail.  I'm not sure why we need Q in kindergarten.

I sat on a rug with my little friends oohing and ahhing and giggling over my class's collective cuteness but in the back of the room, there was a mom.  My mom and she was fighting back tears.  She loved that celebration.  That slideshow. That song.  She wrote a letter to Miss Mueller thanking her for all she had done to help me become such a big girl (total sidenote: when my mom was dying Miss Mueller scanned that letter and sent it to me in a Facebook message.  She kept the letter for over 25 years.  Words are powerful stuff.  I can't express how I felt seeing those words--her words about me in her penmanship).

Watching M as my mom must have watched me, I lost the battle to those rouge tears in my eyes and I thought the thought I think so often.  I wish my mom were here.  She wouldn't have been late.  She wouldn't have forgotten the cookies.  She would have loved this celebration.  Loved seeing M blossom into such an amazing future cheerleader.

These were my feelings though.  My brokenness.  M was fine--so happy I was there (so excited they'd get to eat the cookies for snack on Tuesday since it was too late to dish them out now).  The truth is I remember loving MY mom being at my celebration.  Sure it would have been nice if my grandmothers had attended too but my memories are of my mom.  And she was there.

While I wish my mom was at M's celebration with me yesterday, I know for my daughter, one day she'll be glad I was there for her.  Even though this was an "I wish my mom were here" moment for me, for M, I'm so glad it will be an "I'm so glad my mom was there crying at that silly video" moment. Even if I was late.

It's tiny but this is the letter addressed to Miss Mueller  from my mom after my kindergarten celebration. I still get goose bumps when I see this.  Words live long, dear friends. 

What I Think About: THAT Mom

Moms are probably some of the most judgmental people I know.  Those who breast feed judge those who don't (and vice versa).  Those who stay at home judge those who don't (and vice versa).  We judge the mother of the dirty kid at McDonalds and the mom bribing her kid to stop throwing a tantrum so she can get out of the grocery store.

Lucky (?) for me, people judge me most often in a different way.

People like to come to my house and look at how clean and organized it is.  And then they like to make believe that I have it all together because my floor is mopped and there are no smudge prints on the window.

It is true.  Thanks to a sound training in home cleanliness from my mom mixed with some early tendencies toward OCD, my house is clean.  Eat off my floor--I dare you.

But don't put me in the "she's got it all together" box.  I don't live there.

Most days, I am THAT mom.

• Sometimes (and by sometimes I mean 9 times out of 10) I don't remember to tell my kids to wash their hands after they go to the bathroom or before they eat a meal.
• I will let my son watch shows on my iPhone so I can grocery shop without a meltdown.
• I've left my son in an aisle in Target when he threw a whopper of a tantrum (yes, I peeked from the end cap to be sure no evil pedophiles kidnapped him).
• I've watch my kids flick a booger somewhere and not bothered to find it and clean it up.
• My children have had cereal for dinner.
• We always have mac-n-cheese, chicken nuggets, and frozen pancakes at our house.
• I've gone out without remembering to pack diapers, wipes, pacifiers, and blankets.
• I've "not heard" my children so I could doze an extra 15 minutes in the morning.
• I've let the TV babysit my kids so I could read another chapter in my book.
• I've forgotten to give my kids a bath ... 5 days in a row.
• I've "lost" toys and game pieces and books that I simply couldn't stand to play with/read one more time.
• I've gone on vacation and not felt guilty about it.  I've even dreaded coming home (a little bit).
• I've let my kids wear outfits that don't match, were too small, and were entirely disgusting.
• I've let my kids hear music with not-so-great-lyrics.
• I've fantasized about what it would be like to not have children.
• I've let my kids leave the house with grimy faces, runny noses, and filthy hands.
• I've wished my daughter wasn't potty trained so we didn't have to pull over ever 20 minutes to let her pee.
• I've struggled with what to do when my children won't apologize.
• I've yelled in anger.
• I've spanked my children.
• I've totally lost my cool and freaked out on my children.
• I've let my kids go to bed without brushing their teeth because those teeth are gonna fall out anyway and it wasn't worth a fight.
• I've pretended not to see something my kids did in order to avoid having to deal with it.

Yep.  I'm that mom. The one who doesn't have it all together. The one who sometimes can't manage to go shopping without someone crying.  The one who would rather let her children look ratty and dirty rather than fight with them about washing their faces.

What I think is my house might always be clean and you may never (ever) see me in public in my pajamas but do NOT let that fool you.  I'm that mom--the one who does not have it together.

Are you THAT mom too?  Prove it in the comments below!


Thanks, Shell for letting me Pour My Heart Out on your blog.
 

Music Monday: Churchill

Acoustic indie rock.

 Uh-huh.

I say those three little words and you know it's gonna be good. And it is.

It. is.

Churchill is a young band getting big attention because, well, they have a great sound. And while I love their sound, I also LOVE, LOVE, LOVE that they are from Denver. Whoop Whoop!

If you read their blog (which some of us nerdy mom bloggers tend to do) then you'll learn one thing about the band members: they like cheese. Just one more reason I'm digging this band!


 Change (I was so excited the first time I heard this on 93.3!)

 

Burn it Down (I want to hold Matt's hand on a rainy day and have this song magically start playing. If someone could make that happen, put me on your schedule).

 

 The Only One (because anything with an accordion has to be amazing)

 

Fashion Friday: The MOST Important Fashion Accessory

Seriously, there is one fashion accessory you can not--I repeat  CAN NOT--do without regardless of what it costs you.

The good news is it doesn't cost much, one size fits all, and you can find it anywhere (provided you have a good attitude).

So what is the most important accessory?

Your smile, of course.

Source: tuttemerull.nl via RJ on Pinterest

I know sometimes it can be hard to find your smile. So read through these and get a good grin going.

Source: imgfave.com via RJ on Pinterest

Source: someecards.com via RJ on Pinterest

Source: somecallmecac.tumblr.com via RJ on Pinterest

Source: fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net via RJ on Pinterest

Source: meagainstthem.com via RJ on Pinterest

Smiling yet? Good. Then no matter what you are wearing, you've got the best thing on!

Things I Love: This DYAC

Homonyms.  Homophones.  Words that sound the same but are spelled differently.  Words that are spelled the same but mean different things.

He rose and handed her a rose.

Hey, did you give the horse some hay?

To grammar and usage fanatics, misusing these words can drive us crazy.  For me it's particularly bad with your/you're and there/they're/their.

Source: tumblr.com via RJ on Pinterest

Yes, these words can be confusing but c'mon folks, we are smarter than your average primate so let's use words correctly!

Source: Uploaded by user via RJ on Pinterest

Days of Play {Summer Dreamin'}: S'more Solar Oven

Family Fun magazine has such great ideas that I almost want to get a subscription. Except, when I get magazine subscriptions I never read them because I can find what I want to find a lot easier by getting on the internet. So I get a build up of barely ever read magazine that I feel guilty recycling. So even though I love, love, love some of the ideas in Family Fun, I probably won't be subscribing.

Now that I've covered the topic of magazine subscription, I'll move on. S'more Solar Ovens. Yes, you heard me. Family Fun crafted a way to make a solar oven out of a pizza box, some aluminum foil, and s'more fixins.

I stole this photo from Family Fun.  Find it here.

The truth is, I probably won't be making this today because I live in WY and spring weather doesn't like to cooperate for fun crafts like this. But once June settles in, you can bet your biscuits I'll be trying this fun science/food activity with my kids!

If you want to try, please CLICK HERE to go to the Family Fun website for instructions.

Music Monday: Of Monsters and Men

Of Monsters and Men is an Icelandic Indie folk/pop band.  Honestly, in terms of bands, this is a baby band that is meeting pretty huge success.

The first time I heard their song Little Talks I was convinced that Florence and the Machine had teamed up with Mumford and Sons to create some serious aweseomeness.  I was wrong about the singers but not about the awesomeness.

Little Talks (so hot right now!)


  Yellow Light

 

 Slow and Steady


 

Fashion Friday: Color Block

Spring fashion is majoring in BOLD colors.  Alone this looks like bright yellow jeans paired with navy striped tops and hot pink jewelry.  But one new trend is to put these bold colors together a la 1960s.

Called "COLOR BLOCKS" these combos are shocking yet chic.

Orange, pink, and white

Source: iamkhatu.blogspot.com via melissa on Pinterest

Classic Black, white and red

Source: whatiwore.tumblr.com via Jackie on Pinterest

Blue, red, and yellow

Source: atlantic-pacific.blogspot.com via Christine on Pinterest

If you don't want to buy a signature "color block" piece, DON'T! Look in your closet and pair whatever colors you've got!

 Red pants + Blue top

Source: peoplestylewatch.com via Coral on Pinterest

White shorts+red long sleeved T + blue and white stripes

Source: jcrew.com via Kelly on Pinterest

Denim capris + yellow sweater + orange coat

Source: girlbygibson.blogspot.com via Courtney on Pinterest

Of course you could always do something subtle with your lipstick.

Source: lover-of-makeup.tumblr.com via Katherine on Pinterest

Maybe not.

However you do it, enjoy the colors! These bright, bold colors will leave us soon so wear them while you can!

Things I Love: Political Signs

You must go to this article and read through the signs. There are a ton of them.  If you need a laugh then trust me, this is TOTALLY worth it!  Some are naughty. Some use cuss words. Some are offensive.  Some are dead on accurate.  You decided which is which.

The Funniest Protest Signs Ever  <---Click that link!

Here is a preview.  All photos are from the website I linked to.  I do not own, nor claim to own, any of these photos!

My Mother's Daughter

Today I'm linking up with A Holy Experience and celebrating moms while making a difference for mothers in Haiti.  Please check out 1000 Moms Project and join us!  And please click here to see other submissions.

Dear Mom,

This is my first Mother's Day without you.

How surreal this all seems.  Even though I'm a momma now, it's funny how Mother's Day doesn't feel the same without you--without my mom.  I've spent years making this day about you and now, now what do I do?

When I allow myself to really sit long and feel my feelings, I feel so alone.  I've wanted to call you so many times.  To tell you how I messed up so bad and to get your comforting words and advice.  To share the funny things Pax says and to brag about what a good reader M.E. is and how kind she is to her friends at school.

Ballet recitals.  New cars.  Orange fingernail polish.

So many times I catch myself thinking, "My mom would love this" or "I wish my mom was here."

I feel so alone.  A motherless daughter.

Mother's Day is just another reminder that I won't be calling you and I won't send you a card.

I am motherless.

The taste of those words on my lips is bitter gall.  I want this grief to end.  I keep expecting it to get easier but it just gets. more. real.

I am motherless.

Though it hurts and breaks, I refuse to be defeated by this truth.  If I am to move forward, I can only do so holding firm to the truth that all things work together for my good--even this pain and grief.

This Mother's Day I just wanted to say thank you for mothering me.

• Thank you for the sleepless nights you spent feeding me, rocking me, waiting up for me, and fighting for me.
• Thank you for giving me the grace to try on different personas so I could figure out who I am and who I am not (and let's breathe a collective sigh of relief I am not orange-haired, rebellious Reagan).
• Thank you for making our house a home so homey all my friends wanted to be there.
• Thank you for letting me make mistakes and feel the consequences of those mistakes.
• Thank you for NEVER seeing me as the sum total of my mistakes.  Your faith in me was often my strength.
• Thank you for insisting I call my elders Mr./Mrs./Ms.
• Thank you for being there--when I needed to talk, when I needed space, when I needed to vent, when I needed to cry, when I needed a hug, when I needed nothing--thank you for being there.
• Thank you for squeezing my hand as you took your last breath--for that last bit of reassurance that everything was going to be okay ... even me.
• Thank you for showing me how to be a mom.  

Sacrificial.  Hopeful.  Persistent.  Enduring.  Graceful.  Merciful.  Just.  Humorous.  Kind.  Loving.

You displayed all these traits.

On Sunday morning, those sweet children will bound into my room with breakfast and a plan to head to the hills. The will shower me with sticky mouth kisses and jam hand hugs and gifts they made out of stuff they found.  I will smile and delight in the ways they bless me. In this way, I hope you are blessed.    I am the mom and wife and woman I am because of who you were.

I am mother's daughter.

Days of Play: Teacher Appreciation

It's Teacher Appreciation week!

This is a hard time because I never know what to get for my kids' teachers.  On the one hand, I think--a drawing, a card, a batch of cookies ... you can never go wrong with homemade.  But on the other hand, after being a teacher, I know there are only so many homemade cookies I can eat and still fit into the classroom.  And while those drawings are so amazing, most end up in the garbage because I get about 18 a day.

Oh, and a note on school supplies. Yes, teachers need school supplies but giving teachers crayons as a "gift" is sort of like being given a new broom on Mother's Day.  Seriously, celebrate the the teacher as a PERSON not as a profession.  Still give those crayons but do it on some random Tuesday in the middle of November.

Need some ideas?  I navigated through all the hideous Pinterest Spam and found the best of the best of teacher appreciation gifts.

Picture this: A home made, PURPOSEFUL gift.

No gift cards.  No craft supplies.  A gift.  For the teacher.  That the teacher can use.

Still need some ideas?  Lucky for you I've found some :)

How about a re-useable summer cup/straw with a fun saying, like "Thanks for quenching my thirst for knowledge"

Photo and idea from Lisa Storms

If teacher like hot drinks instead of cold drinks, you could always do this idea:

Photo from Skip to My Lou; printable from WITHMIM

Of course you could make an amazing caramel or chocolate dipped apple and send it to school with a note reading "an apple for the teacher."

Photo from Brown Paper Packages

If you simply feel you must give school supplies, here's a cute idea.  "I must ad-mitt you were a great teacher"

Photo and idea from Skip to my Lou

But really, here's the BEST idea for a school supply gift:

From Come Together Kids

I kind of want someone to make this summer relaxation tote bag for me!  "All year you made learning fun, now you can relax in the sun!"  Fill with sunglasses, sunscreen, flipflops, magazines, etc.

From Skip to my Lou

For a teacher who love flowers, I love the idea of a nice planter with seeds, gloves, etc.  Oh, and a cute card.

From Skip to my Lou

Of course you could just pot a nice gerbera Daisy and tell the teacher "thank you for helping NAME grow or bloom"

Source: lucypage189.tumblr.com via Sean on Pinterest

Music Monday: The Lumineers

The Lumineers are a root revival band based out of Denver, Colorado whose music has been described as "heart-swelling stomp-and-clap acoustic rock, classic pop, and front-porch folk."   Of course that's just artsy fartsy talk for awesome.

The Lumineers have been likened to Mumford and Sons and The Avett Brothers and indeed, if you love those bands then the soulful and raw sounds of The Lumineers will steal your heart.

The Dead Sea

Stubborn Love


 

 Ho Hey (This is the song that's currently putting The Lumineers on the map)

 

What I Think About: Counting My Memories, Er Blessings

My sister sent me a text last night saying something to the effect of, "I'm already dreading tomorrow."

Tomorrow?  Why tomorrow?  Of course I knew.  Of course it had been nagging at me and I responded to the pain the way I generally do--by ignoring it until it couldn't be ignored.

May 2.  Mom's 61st birthday.  It's here.

I got angry.  Always, I get angry.  Mad she turned 60 and died.  Mad 60 was a waste.  Mad I won't see her blow out those 61 candles.  Mad I don't freaking have a mom.  Mad! But if counseling has taught me anything, then it has taught me anger is a surface feeling--a feeling that keeps us from feeling other feelings.

I stood in the shower long and hot and pondered what do I really feel?  Under the hurt and anger--what do I feel?  I feel ashamed for wasting time with her--for not saying "I love you" enough.  I feel disappointed my children will never know her how I knew her.  I feel scared I'll die of the same disease.  I feel a profound sense of orphaness.

These last few months I just haven't been the same.  I've been bogged down in the bad.  Letting her death and my dad's cancer, and the every day grind eat away at my joy and hope.  I see other daughters complaining about their mothers and I want to grab their shoulders and scream at them to just shut up and love their moms because one day--despite the over-sharing of advice and the giving grandkids too much candy and toys, and the petty fights over whose house they'll go to for Christmas--their moms will be gone and they will wish deep in their soul for just one more moment.

Now I'm not going to go all motivational speaker on you.  I'm not going to tell you to live in the moment and seize the day and make it all count.  I'm not.  And if I did, you wouldn't listen anyway because life--poopy diapers, whopping piles of laundry, runny noses, and chores--gets in the way of enjoying life.

But what I am going to do--for my sake and not yours--is to remember on these bad days what made the good days so damn good.  I read 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp (and if you haven't then I really think you should) and she talks about how all Biblical miracles were preceded by thanks, by gratitude, by the naming of blessing.  So today, I'm not going to wish I had seized the day.  I'm not going to wallow in "what I could have done" or "should have done."  I'm going to get out of my pity-party by naming 61 memories of my mom.  Memories are, perhaps, the sweetest blessings.

In no particular order:

1. One time at the grocery store I snuck an economy sized jar of grape jelly into the grocery cart.  When we got home, my mom told me that jelly was all I would eat on sandwiches until it was gone.  To this day, I hate grape jelly.
2. My mom called me one time on December 23 to tell me about this sweater Matt just had to have. The store was sold out so she, over the dissent of the store clerks, stripped the mannequin of the display sweater and demanded it be sold to her.  I don't even know if Matt still has that sweater.
3. My mom and I painted ironing-board sized Santas together.  
4. My mom called my cat Nanners.
5. She loved Cherry Garcia ice cream (I think I'll have some today--in celebration of her).
6. She owned a Subway and would make Cheez-Wiz sandwiches.
7. She never did learn the lyrics to The Grundy County Auction (hey pretty lady won't you give me a sign I do anything to make you mine) despite attempts to teach her.
8. When I was a kid, she'd give me 50 cents to go to 7-11 to get a slurpee.
9. My mom took me to get my black lab, Cubby.
10. Once my mom took me swimming at the YMCA.  All of a sudden she pulled me out of the water and we sped home.  I was mad we had to leave. Turns out, there was a tornado spotted about 3 blocks away.
11. She had expensive taste in jewelry. I'm certain this is genetic.
12. She spent her summers on a farm in Trehern, Manitoba.
13. She became a U.S. citizen on August 22, 2010.  She moved to the states in 1969.
14. My mom taught me about percentages by taking me shopping and out to eat.  To this day, no one can figure out a tip faster than I can.
15. She made the best corn bread.
16. She loved pigs.
17. My mom named me after her best friend, Heather Joy.
18. Although she generally followed rules, she loved to speed.  She never got a ticket.
19. I get my cleaning OCD tendencies from her.
20. When I was in junior high, my mom would paint my fingernails with amazing designs.  My fave was the time she painted my nails to look like tuxedos.
21. I wore her senior prom dress to my junior prom because class never goes out of style.
22. Her face when I tried on wedding dresses.
23. Her face when she saw me in THE wedding dress.
24. Those 15 minute lectures that lasted an hour.
25. I used to love jamming to Karma Chameleon with her.
26. In 2002 I got heat stroke and stayed in bed for days.  She read Anne of Green Gables to me.
27. Her smile.
28. The deep, throaty "oooooo" sound she made when she scratched animals on their chin.
29. No one will make chicken marsala the way she did.
30. The woman was terrified of spiders---but I got her to hold a tarantula and smile.
31. Going on the roller coaster on New York New York in Vegas.
32. Giggling at my dad as he danced to rap music on a pirate cruise in CanCun.
33. Feeding the ducks at Disneyland.
34. The time she caught me trying to light a cigarette butt.
35. The fights we had about not being a pack-rat (I outgrew this phase).
36. The way she used to brush "Kitty" for hours.
37. Whenever my checkbook was off, I knew she could find the error and fix it.
38. She loved to go to Baskin Robbins where she'd get a scoop of Jamocha Almond Fudge and a scoop of Kaluha and Cream (and when that flavor was gone, Pralines and Cream).  
39. Once it took her an hour--literally--to eat 2 scoops of ice cream.
40. It was awkward but she went with me to buy my wedding night and honeymoon boudoir. 
41. When I got back from my honeymoon, she asked if the sex went well.  Again, awkward!
42. She never could figure out how to cut and paste and I used to get so frustrated trying to teach her.  But hey, my father in law isn't sure you are supposed to type in the address bar so I guess she was more advanced then I give her credit for.
43. She could remember the sandwich orders of at least 50 regular customers.  
44. Although she was a business owner, her businesses all included service. She treated her customers with kindness and respect even when they treated her with condescension and disdain.
45. There was never a chocolate the woman didn't like.  Especially if it was a Reisen.
46. I used to freak her out by rubbing velvet on her.  The feel of velvet gave her the heebie jeebies. I still don't get it.
47. She did not like heights.
48. Even though she pretended to think it was inappropriate trash, secretly my mom loved 90210 and Melrose Place.
49. My mom forced me to cut my hair when she didn't think I was taking good care of it.  I don't have the right face for a pixie cut.  My bone structure is all wrong.  I've forgiven her.
50. My mom tried to convince my sister to name her child Eaton Klindt.  She never got why this was both totally inappropriate and hilarious.
51. She bought a Volvo XC90 because I told her they were awesome.  I was right.
52. When I got my first period she didn't have much sympathy.  She was like, "here's a tampon, let's go."  I'm so glad she didn't let me lay around and mope about the whole thing. It's natural--why act like it's not?
53. Telling her I needed a bra was horribly embarrassing (not to mention a total lie).  
54. When I was in labor and getting wheeled back for an emergency c-section I saw her crying.  I was irritated because it was about me, not her.  But now that I'm a mom, I get it.
55. On the Christmas we insisted she go to the Mayo Clinic we had a massive family fight. The sons-in-laws and kids took refuge in the basement.  This is just the way we solved problems--loud voices, passionate debate, anger, and a plan.
56. My mom did not get gray hair.  Can I get an Amen?
57. I remember the poem I wrote telling my parents I was pregnant.  And I remember my mom calling to make sure she understood the poem correctly.
58. I love to sing in the car. I can't hold a tune.  I got both of these qualities from my mom.
59. There has never been anyone who could more effectively cover a mall with speed and accuracy and without need for food, drink, bathrooms, or a break.  To say she was a professional shopper is quite an understatement.
60. She never knew that I knew but when I had my first child, she came in to watch me "sleep."  She just stood in the doorway and watched me--the way I watch my babies.
61. My senior year my dad was traveling.  I came downstairs for breakfast.  We had chocolate cherry cake and vanilla ice cream. Best. Breakfast. Ever.

What I think is counting blessings--counting memories can't erase the pain but it can bring peace.  That in and of itself is a miracle.  Peace in the storm.  

See that comment section?  Why don't you share a memory/blessing of your mom?


Thanks, Shell for letting me Pour My Heart Out on your blog.
 

Fashion Friday: Florals

Fashion.  Friday. Florals.  That's a lot of F's.

What a perfect way to end my FML week. Yep, an F kind of week.

Whether you like it or not, florals will be big on the scene this season.  Yes, this is true of tulips popping up all over.  But it is also true of fashion.

So grab a floral top or bag or dress and embrace this feminine, "looks like a couch from the 70s" fashion.

FOR WORK

Source: 9to5chic.com via RJ on Pinterest

WITH A CARDIE

Source: ideeli.com via RJ on Pinterest

FOR A SUMMER DAY

Source: sincerelyjules.com via Arika on Pinterest

FOR YOUR FEET

Source: weheartit.com via Alyssa on Pinterest

FOR YOUR HOME

Source: 28.media.tumblr.com via Rachel on Pinterest

Although I don't recommend it, FLORAL ON FLORAL is not out of the question.

Source: stylecaster.com via Nadia on Pinterest

Things I Love: Gemma Doyle Trilogy

I'm a fan of young adult literature.  I like to tell people this is due to the fact that I teach young adults.  Really, I just like how profound and lovely young adult literature can be (without takings itself to seriously).

Think about it.  How many of the most recent literature phenomenons have been geared toward young adults?  Harry Potter.  Twilight.  The Hunger Games.

I've never read Harry Potter {Gasp} and I have no intentions to do so.

I read and liked Twilight although I think Bella is whiny, helpless, and sets the feminist movement back to B.C. times.

I loved, loved The Hunger Games but even though I found Katniss to be a strong, caring lead, I didn't totally love her character.  She was harsh and cold and didn't have an ounce of humor in her.

Right after I read The Hunger Games I read The Great and Terrible Beauty series by Libba Bray.  Ever since, I've been wanting to read them again.  The books are Victorian Gothic/paranormal which sounds odd but let me tell you, it's compelling. You aren't quite sure what you are gonna get.

And the lead.  Oh the lead.  Gemma Doyle is a great mix of Bella and Katniss.  She is brave, strong headed, and selfless like Katniss.  She is silly and dramatic like Bella.  But unlike both, Gemma seems really ... real.  She struggles with life--with thoughts of not being enough, with girl drama, with boy drama, with family drama but through it all, she is hilarious.  She thinks these sarcastic thoughts and is utterly delightful.

Anyhow, if you are looking for a new series to dive into, I'd suggest The Gemma Doyle Trilogy (I've suggested this to friends.  2 loved it, 1 thought it was so-so.  Although I will say one of the gals loved Gemma so much she contemplated naming her daughter after her ...).

This photo does not belong to me.  I stole it from Wikipedia but don't read Wikipedia and ruin the book!

P.S. Although I TOTALLY think this should be a movie, and IMBD thinks it might become one in 2015, right now, it's looking doubtful.  Rats.