Doesn't this image just hit you right in the gut?
I saw it floating around facebook.
Today- remembering and thankful.
Confessions of an Amateur Renovator
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted a tired old house of my very own to renovate and bring back to life. See this example of a before and after renovation from Country Living.com? I drive by old houses like this and just ache to own and fix them.
Since you are reading this blog, you can probably relate. I love that
aspect of the blogging community-common ground. Even when everyone you
know in real life thinks you are a few crayons short of a full box,
there are total strangers who read your words and understand your heart.
One year ago, we bought an old cottage style home near the beach and I was almost overcome with excitement because my dream was finally coming true! See this picture below? Totally NOT our beach cottage, but from the very beginning that is what our cottage looked like in my heart.
By the time we bought our cottage, I had spent a good three years reading home decor blogs. I believed in the possibilities of a good low-cost, high-impact transformation. I wasn't looking forward to the finished product nearly as much as I was looking forward to the creative process of transforming the space. If you had offered me a suitcase full of money to hire a dozen contractors, I wouldn't have even considered it! I was so excited to do the work myself! It was my project and I couldn't wait.
But then, slowly over the past year, reality came up and reared its ugly head . . . either we have had a string of repeated bad luck or I am just really terrible at this renovation thing. And I want so badly to be good at it!!! Here is the truth for me: sometimes it takes more than creativity and elbow grease. Sometimes it takes real hard-earned money and professional intervention. Sometimes it can be very, very humbling:
- Maybe you pull up the old carpet in your living room to expose the original hardwood floors (they are there-you pulled back a big corner of the carpet before writing an offer on the house). But wait! Once the carpet is up you see that the floors are 70% original and fabulous but 30% is pieced ugly plywood. Apparently part of your living room wasn't original to the house-hence the plywood extension. I swear this never happens on the Lettered Cottage!
- Maybe you pull down ugly drop-ceiling while your husband is on a conference call and the ceiling underneath is uneven, crumbling, and even uglier than the drop ceiling. No tongue and groove hiding here! No old exposed beams. Just one irritated husband and the need for a contractor. Humble pie, friends. Humble pie.
{Definitely NOT my ceiling}
- And maybe, just maybe, you paint your kitchen floor with porch and floor paint, because nothing says cottage character like a painted floor, but the paint never quite cures, but dries sticky and cotton throw rugs are nearly glued to the floor.
{Not my floor}
Despite it all, I am counting down the final days until we are back in Michigan and I am back in our cottage. It may not have been very kind to me but I still love her. I am ready to forgive and forget and move on to the next project-or at the very least fix the sticky kitchen floor. Which, by the way, looks absolutely nothing like this:
4 Simple Steps for Easy Meal Planning
I was really sick the first five months of this pregnancy. I had very little appetite and fought constant wife and mama guilt that I was doing the bare minimum to prepare healthy meals for my family. There were enough take-out boxes coming into this house to give me a serious case of depression. Now that I am feeling better I have taken to meal-planning and healthy food preparation with a new passion. I do love to cook and I am passionate about healthy, clean, local eating. Also, the days as a stay at home mom to a toddler can be long and because Wynn loves to be in the kitchen with me, I really look forward to working on dinner together after his afternoon nap.
But even with the best of intentions, meal planning can be a chore and it's so easy to spend $100 at the grocery store on Monday and then stand in your kitchen at 5:00 p.m. on Tuesday and think "What did I buy? There is nothing to fix for dinner!"
I have been using Pinterest to make meal planning fun and simple. Here is my trick. Try it out for a week or two, I am willing to bet you find it as helpful as I have:
Step 1: Create three food boards in your Pinterest account. My boards are labeled:
- "Food, etc" : this is where I pin all recipes I stumble on that look good, I may or may not ever get around to making them, this is my catch-all folder. You can get advanced and have many folders organized by recipe type, but I wanted to keep it simple with one big folder and I don't mind scanning through it.
- "Food This Week": This is where I pin the recipes I am going to make for the up-coming week
- "Favorite Recipes": This is where I pin recipes that I have made and that we loved and I want to repeat.
Step 2: Make your weekly meal plan and grocery list and get shopping.
- Pick one day of the week to do your meal planning. For me, this is usually Monday. I sit down at the computer and go through my large catch-all "Food Etc." folder and pick out four or five dinners that I want to make for the week. I pin those recipes to my "Food this Week" folder. With each recipe I pin, I look through the ingredient list and write down the things I need to buy at the grocery store. I concentrate on dinners. For lunch, we eat a lot of dinner left-overs or basics like sandwiches. If you want to be advanced, you could pin for all three meals, seven days a week. It's at this point that I also go to the grocery store.
Step 3: Each afternoon, decide what you are going make for dinner!
- Every day at about 2:30/3:00, I'll pull up my "Food this Week" folder and decide what looks good for dinner that night. I should have all the ingredients on hand for all of the meals I have pinned. I can set my laptop on my kitchen island and have the recipe and instructions right in front of me. Plus you have access to music online, which makes cooking much more enjoyable. Feel free to have a dance party with your toddler while you fix dinner. I usually do.
Step 4: Re-pin or Delete!
- If a recipe is a huge success, I will pin it to my "Favorite Recipes" board. Isn't it easy to find a recipe that is healthy and your husband actually loves, only to forget about it or misplace it? I love having my favorites stored this way. If a recipe was just ok and not one I plan to repeat, I'll delete it. Easy enough!
These crab cakes with Red Pepper Remoulade were a definite keeper!
Happy meal-planning and Bon Appetite!
Boy Mom Up!
And I am 110% GIRL.
I love make-up, jewelry, high heels, decorating, and the ballet. I really don't care for football and I scream my head off at the site of most bugs. Yet God, who knows me better than anyone, has called me to raise two precious little boys into Godly men for His glory. Lately this means pushing the lawn mower (while off) around the yard and making lawn mower noises while my two-year old trails me with his plastic mower, making lawn mower noises of his own. It can be a bit mind-numbing after the first 45 minutes are so, but my little guy LIVES for it, so I keep on pushing and smile and act like I'm having the time of my life.
I recently read a blog post by my e-friend, Ginny, about being a boy mama and it resonated with me so much that I asked her permission to share that post with y'all today. Ginny has two little boys of her own and, obviously, a lot of boy mama wisdom (you can follow her blog here). . . . Take it away, Ginny!
* * * * * * *
"Boy Mom Up!"
I'm from Texas, the part with a lot of cowboys. (Oh wait, that describes the whole state.)
When I was in high school, I became aware of the following phrase:
"Cowboy Up." Also available in the gender-equal "Cowgirl Up", this
saying gently reminds its reader to do things like "Get Tough", "Deal
With It", "Put on Your Big Girl Panties", and so forth.
I've decided to coin a new phrase to be used when mothers of boys need
to psyche themselves up to thread a worm on a fishing hook, remove the
squished caterpillars or frogs from his jean pocket before you wash
them, or involve her fatigued self in a never-ending light saber
battle.
The phrase is...Boy Mom Up.
As mothers of boys, we sometimes have to do things that make us want to
gag (see: threading a worm on a fishing hook) or fall over in a wearied
puddle of exhaustion. Yeah, we're moms. We're female. That means many of us enjoy movies
like "Anne of Green Gables", "Out of Africa", and "French Kiss." We
like rainbows and ponies, French braids and Nutella. This new world of
war jargon, sword battles, and mock brutality is somewhat jarring to
us. Hearing my baby boy say to his brother, "I'm dunna tiwl you,
bubby!" does strange things to my guts.
Like many of you, I have to do a lot of things I don't WANT to do. I don't necessarily WANT to ride a bike over the ramps and jumps
we have on the park across the street and do "tricks" and "stunts", but
when I do, the boys go wild.
"Whoa, MOMMY! I didn't know you could do that!!"
Some days, I would rather sit and read a book, but how can I resist when
the two fruits of my womb beg me to be Captain Hook while they are
(both) Peter Pan?
I didn't really WANT the boys to get covered in mud the other day
while I was working on the window, but partially out of desperation and
partially out of knowledge that their little souls have a deep need to
mix water and dirt and then roll around in it, I allowed them to.
And yesterday, I was really quite tired. I've been going nonstop and I'm on a new streak of exercising. I was ready to "clock out" for a while. But my husband set up an awesome Nerf gun "course" on the park across the street from our house. Our boys and the neighbor kids were excited to have a "war". My husband said he needed me to be on his team. At first I stared off into space, considering how my legs were feeling like cinder blocks. But then I "boy-mommed-up" and agreed. I might not have been the most active player. Or the most valuable player. But I was out there, and that counts. Never mind that I screamed and winced when someone within 7 feet shot at me. I hope that my boys will remember my presence on the battleground one day, even though I'm not in any of the pictures.
I just need to be sure I can always keep up with them.
Thankfully, playing hard eventually gives way to napping hard (or vice-versa).
I'm thinking of designing a bumper sticker. Who wants one? Be sure to "boy mom up" today if you can!
Your kids will never forget it.
Do you have any stories to share of your proudest "boy mom" moment? Please share...we all need inspiration.
I'm thinking of designing a bumper sticker. Who wants one? Be sure to "boy mom up" today if you can!
Your kids will never forget it.
* * * * * * *
The Swimming Pool House
You see her there, tattered clothes, dirty feet bare and worn. Her journey is a broken one, her past that familiar blanket of regret. Her fists clench tight holding on to the only thing that remains-ashes.
She approaches the throne and falls to her face. She lets go of what remains; watches the ashes fall at His feet. His scarred hand runs through dark ash and marks the joyous blessing of grace on her face. She looks up, searching for her reflection in His eyes. You look for it too, you are watching, sounds of festive praise sounding now. And wonder of wonders, the face reflected back now wears a crown of beauty.
The face reflected back is you.
“To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for
ashes,
a joyous blessing instead of mourning,
festive praise instead of
despair.
In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks
that the
LORD has planted for his own glory.”
~Isaiah 61:3
* * * * * * * * * *
Wynn and I walk to the swimming pool house on a bright spring day in May. The weather is warm and the house is falling down. Wynn doesn't mind. It is a great place to play. We are trespassing, probably, but no one is left to care. A casualty of divorce, the house has been long-abandoned, waiting on the market for a buyer in no hurry to claim her prize.
A once-beautiful in-ground pool sits at the back of the property. A shadow now of what once was.
Murky water, thick with dirt. Dark like ash. A fence falling down.
We are certainly east of Eden now and I am desperate to make it back to the Garden. I look into water the color of ash and I ache for a savior who transforms, knowing that the surrender must come first. I don't sense surrender here. I can feel the struggle of a dying place trying to hold on to what little remains. That is the hardest part, is it not? Realizing the fire has come and gone and you must now surrender the ashes, when you have already lost so much and ash is all that remains.
My faith is a demanding faith and my love a demanding love. I refuse to be separated from Him. So I reach for His hand and find Him there. I lean into Him. He knows me.
We look together into the ashy water and I envision beauty because I know the grace that transforms. The grace that follows surrender.
My child plays among the ruins while I pray for grace, holding hands with the Grace-Giver. I ache to surrender all, seeing my reflection in that murky water, that no part of me should go unredeemed, left to rot and die away. I search my pockets for traces of ash to exchange for a beauty all can see.
"Take, it please. Take it all," I plead.
And He takes my ashes. He wears my dirt. The God of fresh paint and aqua water and crystal chandeliers and everything lovely and beautiful and good and redeemed, gives me a crown of grace.
Give Him your ashes, my friend.
Abandoned and falling down? Barely holding on? Aching for transformation? Give Him your ashes.
For grace the you so desperately seek always follows surrender.
From Farm to Bowl: Homemade Strawberry Ice Cream
I took Wynn to a local farm here in North Carolina to pick strawberries, fresh from the field. I was craving fresh strawberry ice cream and homemade jam and I wanted to show Wynn how God grows treasures like straweberries! I wasn't sure what to expect from a little boy, just turned two years old, in a strawberry patch, but the day turned out to be a great success.
He was a great helper and kept our fellow patrons entertained by waving wildly to anyone who passed by and saying "Hiiii! How ya doin'??? Wynn's pickin' strawberries!!!!"
We also sampled one or two, warmed through from the hot morning sun. I am so glad that God loved the world so much that he created strawberries to usher in the first of summer.
We took home a gallon of fresh berries and made ice cream that same afternoon. Here is my recipe for perfectly delicious homemade strawberry ice cream. I used an automatic ice cream maker. Quick and easy and kept my toddler entertained the full 25 minutes it was churning!
Homemade Strawberry Ice Cream
1 Pint fresh ripe strawberries, sliced
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 cup sugar, divided
1 cup whole milk*
2 cups heavy cream*
1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
{*for a lighter version, substitute 3 cups 2% milk for the whole milk and cream (I did); the ice cream still has a wonderful fresh flavor, although the consistency is not as smooth and creamy.}
In a small bowl, combine the strawberries with the lemon juice and 1/3 cup of sugar, stir and allow the strawberries to sit for 2 hours. In a medium bowl, combine the milk and remaining 2/3 cup of sugar, whisk well to dissolve sugar. Stir in the cream, vanilla, and any accumulated juice from the strawberries.
Turn on your ice cream machine, pour ice cream mixture into the freezer container and let mix until thickened, about 25 minutes. Add the sliced strawberries during the last 5 minutes of freezing.
I scream,
you scream,
we all scream for ice cream!!!
First and last images via Cook2Shoot, all other images, mine.
An Ice Cream Resolution
Wynn's resolution for the summer is to eat ice cream every day.
Since it is already bathing suit weather in North Carolina, he is getting started a few weeks early.
It's all in a day's work when you are 2!
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