Pumpkin Day with Ellery

First of all, let it be known that Ellery is probably the cutest little girl to ever have lived.  Everything about her is charming.  She is everything good about a little girl!

Oh Ellery, how I love you!  

If you don't know my little sister, here is a picture of her in all her glory:

Last Wednesday I was very excited because Ellery's preschool was taking a trip to the pumpkin patch and Jack and I received invitations to come along.  Imagine my delight!  Not only a trip to the pumpkin patch, but an outing with my sweet Ellery!

So Wednesday arrived and I was up bright and early, dressed and just waiting for the wonderful day to begin.  Then...

uh oh.

The phone rang.

It was my mom.

"Ellery has a fever."

So sad!  Ellery's words were an emphatic and pathetic, "I hate my fever."

My mom offered her the option to still try and go, but Ellery decided to stay home because, in her words, "I don't want any other kids to get my fever."

So after a little chat with my mom, I decided to go pick up some pumpkins at the grocery store and bring them over for my wee sis to either paint or carve.  

I went to Top Foods and picked out some various sizes of the orange gourd and made my way to my mom's house.  

When I arrived Ellery was still in her nightgown.  I unloaded my bag of pumpkins and displayed them for her to choose which she wanted to decorate.  I made sure to tell her that Jack picked out several of them because he thought she would like them.  She always asks me to interpret Jack's coos and noises.  "What's he say?"  

I told Ellery she could choose between carving the pumpkins or painting them.  I secretly hoped that she would want to carve them, but she opted for the painting. So we got out all my mom's paint, covered the table with newspaper, and set up our project.  

She listed out all the colors that she wanted to use.  It started with pink, yellow and purple, but eventually she declared, "I love all colors!" and asked for a little bit of each color to put on her pumpkin.  

The first one she painted had a pink smiley face and then a multicolored "dress."  Her second pumpkin was bigger and was decorated with colored sections then covered in glitter.  

Her third pumpkin was sort of a game.  She would put one color on and then pick another color to add.  She would ask me what color it was going to make when she mixed them.  She asked me what it was going to make when she added white and black.  I told her grey.  "It does make grey!  You are always right!"  Let me tell you, it is a good feeling to have your little sister think you are always right.  

Her fourth pumpkin was actually one that I covered in purple glitter.  She loved it and asked to keep it.  How can you turn her down?  (I ended up making a second one for my house.  When Lizzie saw it she yelled so loud in her excitement that she made Jack cry) The photo doesn't do it justice, so just imagine a little pumpkin painted purple and then completely covered in the most sparkly, ultra fine purple glitter you can buy.  That will give you an idea of what it looks like. 

Ellery's pumpkins.  The white one is the "game" pumpkin and the little orange one is the "girl wearing a dress."

My Pumpkins

At one point I was emptying her water cup and washing off her brushes so she could use a new color and Ellery said to my mom, "Emily is so helpful!"

After cleaning up our mess I think she remembered that she was sick and curled up in a pitiful little ball on the couch.  

Jack ended up taking a nap and I told my mom she could go nap too.  So my pumpkin day with Ellery ended with both of us on the couch watching The Lion King.  We watched until the part that Mufassa dies which was too sad for her. Oh my sweet sister. It was a great day!

More To Come

The inevitable happened last night.  

I got Jack ready for bed a little early (due to a poop-covered baby incident that I won't go into detail about).  Usually, if he's had his bath and bottle and just isn't tired enough for bed I leave him in the middle of the floor and let him roll around while I make dinner or clean up or roll around with him.  

Last night, we did the whole routine and I picked up all the toys, put them in their basket and then let Jack tire himself out by rolling his stud-baby self wherever his fancy took him.  It just so happened that, his fancy lead him directly to the newly stashed basket of toys.  Can you imagine the short work he made of my cleared living room floor?  I don't know if you really can.  That baby is FAST! 

After a moment of of rubbing my face with my hands, sighing and telling myself that it really is worth it to pick up the toys, even if I have only mere minute to enjoy a tidy house, I smiled at my baby and remembered how thankful I am for a healthy boy that smiles and coos and is learning all the new things that a baby should be learning.  

Go Jack!

But... I used up all my energy re-picking up the toys and no longer have the creative wherewithal to regale you with tales of my pumpkin-day with Ellery.  

Never fear, I'll get to it.  

But for now I have 45 minutes while Jack naps to eat my oatmeal with raisins, take a shower and have a moment of spiritual reflection.  So I'm off... but here is a preview:

Oh wait, that is just Jack formulating his plan to upend the toy box last night...

Here's the preview:

a happy day and a dilemma

At this very moment I am listening to Andy have his first in-home guitar lesson.  Jack is sound asleep and has been for an hour and a half.  I've got a painting on the table drying, my house is mostly clean and my refrigerator is well stocked.

Ahhh... life is good.

It has been a very contemplative week. I feel like there are so many thoughts to send out into the wide world that they are jammed in my head and unable to make their way though my fingers and onto the screen.   Although, it could just be that I am concentrating so hard on being inconspicuous while Andy is instructed that I have no brain power left for creative prose.

Could be.

In the midst of my good day (which involved not one but TWO outings with friends and my first purchase of spiced cider) I am also facing a dilemma. 

I think I am going to return my orange jacket

GASP!

Yes, I know how excited I was about it, but let's be realistic for a moment. I have a baby who is a perpetual fountain of regurgitated milk.  It is gross.  I have yet to wear that beloved jacket for fear that it is going to be immediately doused with slimy white baby backwash. That would make me cry and I really try and avoid situations that make me cry.

Sigh.

My mom's argument was, "Won't you cry when you return it?"

Perhaps, but I don't think that I will.  

I could keep an article of clothing because it was expensive and it is beautiful.  But it is impractical. Or I could return it and spend the money on something more sensible.  My responsible self knows that I need to return the jacket.  Unless someone can talk me out of it, the jacket is going back this week.  

Other minor updates:

• I purged my purse of the old and unloved lip glosses
  
• I still am not that impressed with Facebook
  
• Jack is eating fruit AND Cherrios
  
• The tickets arrived for my big date with Clinton Kelly and I think I may have accidentally be registered for a plus-size event (ack!  I must meet Clinton!)
  
• I still haven't got my mascara
• I love my husband and my baby (how could you not love these guys?)

Stupid Morals

Yesterday I was on my way to Target (my weeks are now measured by what day I go to Target, I'm hoping to change that soon), rehearsing my list in my head:

Formula

Toothpaste

Ziplock bags

Laundry Detergent

Chai ($3.99 a box instead of $5.49 at the grocery store!)

Cherrios (because Jack is a big boy and is learning how to chew)

Baby Stuff, baby stuff and more baby stuff

Blah, blah, blah

Oh yeah, and mascara

You know how Target is.  You go in for one thing that is $4.99 and you walk out with about 16 things and spend $80.  I've made it my aim now to just look away from the clothes.  I always get sucked in.  So I walked in, averted my eyes and walked purposefully toward the baby department.

But what is strategically located cheek to cheek with baby items?  Shoes.  Specifically black, patent leather, peep-toe stiletto shoes.  SO sexy!  I did indeed try them on.  I justified the detour by remembering that I'm going to be in a wedding in a few weekends and the bride requested that her entourage wear black shoes.  Well... what do you know?  They have my size!  

After not too many more side trips I was walking toward the check out.  But just before I surveyed the lines to choose the shortest wait, I remembered that I hadn't grabbed my mascara.  So I turned back around and spent another few minutes wandering the cosmetic isles and selecting my lash product. 

I then returned to the check out and forked over the cash for the "more than I wanted to spend but I can justify it all" total.  Feeling excited about practicing walking in my new heels once I got home I loaded Jack into the car, found seat-space for all of my bags and ... wait... oh no!  There is my mascara in the back corner of the cart!  Did it just fall out of one of the bags?  No, that would be too easy... it never was rung up!

What is a girl to do?

Don't scorn me because I momentarily considered just tossing it in my bag and going on my merry way.  Serves Target right for not being more vigilant.  Besides, do you have any idea how fatiguing it is to lift and bend and load and unload a 19lb baby from the car for every errand?  A body can only take so much.  PLUS, I always park in the back of the Target parking lot, next to the cart return so that I can open my door and get Jack out without fear of banging any other cars and then just tuck my cart right into it's safe little parking lot home without abandoning Jack in the car... So I can't just run right in and return it, I would have to TRUDGE... do you hear me, TRUDGE all the way back with baby in tow to hand over a tube of make-up that is only valued at $5.99.

But I couldn't do it.  It would have haunted me forever.  When Jack got older and asked me if I had ever stolen anything I would have to say, "Yes, a pack of Watermelon Bubblicious gum when I was four and a tube of mascara when I was a grown woman and should have known better!"

Argh.

So I just stood there in the parking lot looking like an idiot.  I kept thinking that maybe someone would just pull right in near me and be heading into Target and I could say, "Excuse me, I accidentally took this without paying for it, could you please take it back in for me?"  Then I imagined their face and the implied, "You STOLE this and now are feeling too guilty, and you want me to absolve you of your sin?!"  That wasn't a good plan.  

I also considered just leaving it in the cart.  My strong moral compass also suggested that was just a lazy man's attempt to get out of doing the right thing.  If I was going to leave it in the cart I might as well just take it home (which I still really just wished I could do).  

But in the end, good-girl won over tired mom and I unloaded Jack and indeed trudged back into the store and simply tossed the package on the nearest unoccupied checkout counter.  

I walked out hoping for some surge of pride to lift my spirits and give me a tingle of "I did the right thing and I'm a good person" but no, I just thought, "Stupid morals.  I could have had free mascara!"

Stupid morals.

The Chase

I wonder how many hours and tears and thousands of dollars I have spent in the pursuit of beauty.  

A lot of days (maybe... almost, most days) I feel like I keep my beauty cravings in check, but then a day like today comes along and I am reminded of the true state of my heart. 

Today was haircut day.  I intended to just look at a few pictures of styles before I went to my appointment, but before I realized what I was doing, I had spent an hour looking at pictures of Victoria Beckham's beautiful hair AND perfect face AND sculpted body and losing every ounce of confidence I've ever had, all the while forming a list of the items I simply must acquire to up my beauty quotient - none of which I actually need. Why do I so easily buy into the culture of beauty when I know it is not what I want? (actually, I really do want to be beautiful... just not in that worldly, expensive way)

The hope of coming home more lovely than I left is always there on haircut day. Sometimes I cry when I realize that a trim didn't change the scale or shrink my nose or give me more money to buy all of the high-fashion accessories that I crave. Sometimes I keep my head and heart straight and just go about the business of getting my hair cut.  And every so often I am able to be totally pleased with me, just the way I am. 

Today my hair turned out fine... but not like the picture of Posh (ya think?!).  I confess that left me disappointed.  Silly girl that I am.  Maybe one day I won't be won over by that foolish hope and cruel disappointment, but today, again, I was.

But here's the crux: 

I serve a creative God.  He thought of and executed everything beautiful on this planet.  I firmly believe that my love of beauty starts as something holy, delight in what He has crafted and designed, but it quickly becomes distorted, misplaced and cheap.  Instead of being in awe of HIM, the creator, I identify the creation and admire, verging on worship, it.  I want it to be the other way around.  I want to be transformed by the creator, not transfixed by the creation.

Oh Lord, please forgive me.  Change my heart.  Give me a new measure of beauty.  Make me aware of what influences me and what I allow to speak into my heart. Strengthen me to live in a way that admires beauty, but is not consumed by it. Thank you for your faithfulness.  And thank you for all things beautiful.

Facebook

Facebook.

Meh.

(Thanks for the word MEH Rosemary.  It will come in handy often, I can see that.)

I am pretty impressed with how many people show up as "people you might know" that I actually DO know, but I'm not really sure what to do now that I have a Facebook profile.  

What's the  point?

In other news, I was struck today by the fact that every compartment of my purse has at least one lip product in it.  I have a total of seven.  I'm sure that compared to some people, that is not a lot, but I was kind of amazed at the discovery.  Especially when I found myself justifying every one.

Burt's Bees Honey Lip Balm I need this one for when I can't find any of the ones that I really like.  It smells strongly of baby powder so I can only wear it when I know I won't be kissing Andy. Who wants to feel like they are kissing a baby's bottom?  I actually can't wear it around anybody it smells so weird.  I put it on one time in the car while I was riding with a friend and as soon as I put it on she said, "Do you smell that?  What is it?!" in a grossed out sort of voice. I had to suggest that it might just possibly be my "just in case" lip balm, which it was.  Okay, so maybe it is time to get rid of this one.

Burt's Bees Replenishing Lip Balm with pomegranate oil My FAVORITE.  It smells so nice and makes my lips feel so smooth and fresh.  My best kissing option.  

Goldie Lip Plumper  Okay, this is my other favorite.  I put it on over any color I use and my lips look like I should be a lip model.  After a fresh application Andy says, "Ooh, your lips look all kissable!"  but they aren't really because it is a little sticky and leaves that tingling sensation that means my lips are being plumped. Good for girls, not for boys.

C.O. Bigelow Vitamin Menta Tinted Lip Balm in Glacial Mint AND Baby Pink Mint (I also have Brown Betty Mint in my make up bag in the bathroom) This is my favorite color to have on hand.  It keeps my lips from looking pale, as they are apt to do, but its best feature is that it is super minty, so if my mouth feels funky and I'm out of gum, this at least covers the bad breath long enough to get to a tooth brush or drug store. 

Liplicious Tasty Lip Plumper in Candied Apple  This was the color I used before Baby Pink Mint.  Now that I have that, it seems redundant to keep it in my purse.  It's plumping powers pale in comparison to my Goldie and the color is only so so.  I guess this is where we part ways Liplicous. 

Garden Botanica lipstick in Sweet Joe The color standby.  I'll keep this one on hand because it also doubles as a little cheek color if I need it, which I always always do.  Poor pale me.

So anyway, now that you are up to speed on my lips, how 'bout that Facebook?  Lame, eh?  Or do I just not know it's connective powers?  Will I ever be as interested in FB as I am in lip gloss? I suppose only time will tell.

  

The Grass is Greener

I miss having co-workers.

Don't misunderstand me.  I am SO thankful to be able to focus my energy on my family and not have to divide my attention between a profession, or even "just" a job, and the boys I love best.  I know being a "stay at home mom" is a coveted position and I do my best to not take it for granted. However, there are a few aspects of having a real (as in paid, with set hours and a specific location in which to do your work) job that I am coveting this morning:

1. COWORKERS: Mal, Christy, Marli... I miss you!  When I worked, there was always someone to talk to, to bounce ideas off of, to laugh with... now to have those relational moments I have to be very intentional.  The fact is, most of the United States is busy.  To schedule time with people involves two or three phone calls/text messages/e-mails and the examination of several calendars.  So much simpler to just walk down a cubical or two and say high or share some tea with a comrade. 

2. HAVING A BOSS:  A boss tells you what to do.  If he's a good boss, expectations are clear and you know what you are responsible for.  Motherhood is pretty much a guessing game for me.  There is lots of advice out there, but nobody is laying out the plan... that's my job now.  Man!  It takes so much mental energy.  There are days when I just wish that someone would tell me what to do and save me the effort!

3. PROJECTS WITH A DEFINED END: I miss the satisfaction of knowing that I have accomplished something.  There is instant gratification in saying, "Yes!  That task is done! For good!  And done well!"  There is no end, finish, time off or checked box for being a wife and mom.  

4. FEEDBACK: Jack really isn't at the stage yet where he can say, "Wow.  You're a great mom.  You are really instilling strong values in me and teaching me how to one day be a happy, successful adult.  Thanks mom!"  At work, if you do a job well, you usually hear at least a "thank you." But at this point in my life I have to keep doing my best with little feedback or affirmation.

Friends, this whole motherhood gig is hard work.  With the strength that God provides, I will face the challenge, but I have to accept the fact that life is full of choices.  To follow one dream you often give up another.  Luckily I am pursuing this dream with a dear husband and delightful family and friends.  There may not be the instant praise that I crave or the simplicity of executing someone else's plan, but there is the sweet satisfaction of know that I am where I need to be for this moment and that there is grace for each day.