you're not the boss of me

"You're not the boss of me!" was a common phrase my sister liked to shout at me when we were growing up. Granted, she was between the ages of 4 and 8, so it was pretty normal. I loved being able to respond, "Actually, I am the boss of you." And then I would chuckle, gleefully, as I had been left in charge while my parents were at work or running to get groceries. We basically tortured each other in this manner for about ten years until I went off to college. There were loving, sisterly moments, too... having "sleepovers" in each other's rooms and exploring in the backyard together. But being seven years apart, we didn't always have a lot in common.

just look at that little punk

When I moved to the east coast after college, Stacy came to visit and explore DC and New York with me. She was only 15, but it felt like the beginning of a real friendship. I still gave her a lot of guidance (read: unsolicited advice and general bossiness), but we had our first adventure together far from home. I was so sad when she left, really feeling like I had glimpsed our future closeness.

When she graduated from high school and I moved back home, we got an apartment together in the big city. I continued to "guide" her, constantly sharing my opinion on what she should do with her life and exactly how she should get there. In return, she would steal borrow my clothes, tell me she was going to do what she wanted to do, and head out the door. But we still managed to enjoy each other's company, work together slinging lattes for the masses, and come back together at night to watch movies and eat junk food.

Years passed, I got married, she moved into her own place, and we saw each other when it was convenient. I still managed to find the time to offer her abundant bits of wisdom about what I thought she should be doing with herself. She still managed to tell me to mind my own business. (Punk.)

Now here we are, both grown up, both married, both with our own homes and jobs and families. 

And I am in awe of her. 

Not a day goes by that I don't think of my sister with a heart full of gratitude and love. She has become my best friend without a doubt. Even though I am older than her, I know I am not wiser and I am so unbelievably thankful for her friendship, companionship, and love. She has become an amazing aunt to my children, and I am so so so excited to watch her as she begins the long, joyful, amazing journey of motherhood. She is a confidante, an encourager, a prayer partner, a giver of time, and an all-around gift to me. I love that we share an affinity for terrible reality TV (which we text about way too much), and at the same time can tell each other our need for prayer or encouragement or sleep. 

So, Stace, I forgive you for all of the things you stole over the years (clepto) and I could not be more blessed by who you are. (Can I still be the boss of you a little bit?)

maybe not

{written for Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop and for my awesome sister}

the problem with adopted kids

So here is what happened after church today. We went downstairs for coffee and donuts, as we do most Sundays when Lute is mostly well behaved during the service. (Yeah, we bribe our children, and sometimes it works.) The boys were running around, playing with their friends, dancing onstage, chasing each other, and stopping for brief moments to stuff their faces with maple bars. Eddie asked for water, so I lifted him to the water fountain, where he managed to ingest about three teaspoons from the 12 gallons that hit his face. 


As I started to carry him back to where the action was, an older gentleman stopped me and asked, "Is he your foster child?"
"Oh no, we adopted him as a newborn, he's mine," I replied happily.
"It looks like he needs a lot of guidance, doesn't he?"
Well, yeah dude, he's TWO. 
I was a little more diplomatic than that, but a bit of the mama bear started to well up within me.


Why is there such a stigma attached to adopted children? Here is my thought: they are kids. A kid is a kid. Now I am not saying that there aren't real issues for children that stem from adoption. I'm sure there are. But I am just as sure that every child has some issue of some kind... because they are human. They are going through life. And life isn't fair, and we all have to deal with that at some point in some way, and we usually feel pretty disillusioned and victimized. 


Before we brought Eddie home, several people asked us if we knew if he was exposed to anything harmful (valid question) or if we were worried that he would have predispositions that we weren't prepared for. I am not sure I am prepared for any of the things any of my children are predisposed to. You should see George when we cut off the cookies.


If anything, it's been the opposite of the common misconceptions. If you were to spend a good amount of time with my three children (does anyone want to, by the way?), you might notice that Lute and George have a little bit of a woeful nature. Sometimes a lot of a woeful nature, actually. Eddie, on the other hand, is probably the most joyful kid I have ever encountered. He might get a little frustrated from time to time, but he is usually having a grand time doing whatever it is he is doing. And yes, he is a handful, but that is because he is a boy through and through. (I think they are calling that "spirited" these days, right? Wanna be PC.)

So here are a few statistics that I hope help eradicate some of the ideas floating around about adoption:

85% of adopted children are rated in "excellent" or "very good" health.

The national average for non-adopted kids is 82%.

over 90% of adopted children have positive feelings about being adopted.

88% of adoptive parents describe themselves as a "happy couple".

Non-adoptive parents: 83%.

The New York Times did an interesting article awhile back that addressed this issue. I know I have a tendency toward the Pollyanna side of life, and I can gloss things over from time to time, but in my heart of hearts, I really believe that a change needs to come about in the attitude toward adoption. 

In my experience as a parent with three little boys very close in age, no kid is easy, but every kid is a blessing. 

purging my closet and giving back

It's that time again: Bakin' it to the Streets. But I am changing it up this time. 

We spent last week on the coast with my extended family for a little reunion. My mom came up with this great game where we had to answer a bunch of questions before the trip and then when we were all together, guess who said what. For one of my answers I said, "I really need to get rid of about half of my clothes, but I just can't make myself do it."

While people were trying to guess who said it, my husband laughed, looked at me and said, 

"I sure hope that's you."

Ha. Ha.

So guess what? I took the challenge. If it hadn't been worn in the last year, it went in the pile. If I loved it, but wanted it to fit just a little bit differently, it went in the pile. A lot of stuff went in the pile. Probably not half, but at least a third. And it feels good.

So, what to do with it? 

We could just take it to Goodwill or St. Vincent de Paul, which is what we usually do, but then my mom reminded me of a place in her town where she used to volunteer. They take new and gently used clothing for school age kids (adult sizes for teens) who don't have enough money for school clothes. With the school year just around the corner, this seems like the perfect time to donate. 

And I don't know why, but it is more motivating to clean out my closet when I know it's going to a kid that really needs it. 

So no baking this go around. (Though I am taking dinner to my husband who has to work late, so kind of the same?) But this works, too. It's all about a spirit of giving - of sharing your time, talent or treasure to bless another.

If you're looking for a place in your area that does something similar, ask around or look online. There are some amazing organizations all around the country doing similar things.

If you live in Oregon or Washington, Sleep Country collects clothing for foster kids.

And who doesn't need to get rid of a few items in their closet?

If you want to share a story or link up, I'd love it!

it's love

He's only one and he gives the best hugs...

He'll wrap one arm around your neck nice and tight like he really means it.

Plus he thinks I'm really hilarious, which is always an ego boost.

And that face.

I can't resist it.

Yep, I'm a goner.

how things change and a playlist

Back in the day I was kind proud of my music collection and kept it pretty well updated. I bought a new cd every couple of weeks, and tried to get to as many concerts of my favorites as I could. Kids came into the picture, my music library became stagnant and do people still buy cds? My iTunes library could use some help.


Anyway, I was recently doing some hair for a wedding and one of the bridesmaids turned on Pandora. I kept noticing that I knew the songs but for some reason all of the words were wrong. I would be singing along in my head and thinking, "That's not right. Are there two versions to this?" 


And then it hit me: Sesame Street. 


We watch a lot of "Elmo" at our house. The same YouTube videos play again and again upon request. We watch Adam Sandler  sing The Elmo Song, Feist helps us count to 4, we sing our ABCs with India Arie  and Jason Mraz reminds us to go play outside. But our newest favorite comes from Will.i.am and is worth watching, even if you don't have a toddler by your side:

So while I definitely need some new music in my personal library, I am thankful for the geniuses at Sesame Street who keep me current, at least enough to keep up with my kids. For now.

a long overdue bakin' it to the streets

This last week has been sort of crazy, in a million little frustrating moments. One thing after another that cause me to say aloud things like, "Really?" or "Did that seriously just happen?" or "Are you KIDDING me?". And more times than not, the moment is not kidding. And I get annoyed/perplexed/frustrated.

So what better time to whip up some muffins, pack a couple of lunches, and strap my children into the car to find some folks in need? No better time, actually. We (meaning I) needed a little perspective on what really matters. (Also, the ability to strap my children down can be somewhat therapeutic at times.)

We set out this morning with a bag full of warm peanut butter muffins and two sack lunches. I drove to our usual spots, looking for our usual guys, to no avail. 

We got on the highway and headed downtown, and for some reason I felt a pull to drive up and around the cathedral where Nick and I got married. I miss that place in so many ways. I miss the priest, who despite thousands of parishioners, still remembers us. I miss the breathtaking beauty of the church and the chapel and the scent of incense that has found its home in every crevice of the sanctuary. I miss the heavenly voices of the choir and the intricate carvings in the marble. But mostly I miss the masses of people from every walk of life (including the homeless) that feel at home within the walls of that church. 

That's what church is supposed to be, right?

{an aside: I love our current parish, too, 

for so many reasons, most especially our amazing community of friends}

Back to our outing. As I drove around the perimeter, I noticed a woman, hunched severely over her pushcart. Long, scraggly gray hair billowed out of the hood that covered most of her face. I knew she was who I was meant to find today. I pulled the car over, hopped out and approached her. She cocked her head to the side so she could look at me with one eye through her hair. 

"Would you like a meal?" I asked her.

She grinned and in a soft voice replied, "I would love one."

I smiled and handed her the bag, wished her well, and got back into the car.

And I cried. 

I don't know why, but there was something in her walk, her hair, her gentle nature and genuine grace that touched me. 

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in... 

I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.

I needed that - a reality check. A tangible sense of "it's not all about me". Today it wasn't about teaching the boys something, or doing good for the sake of doing good.

It was me meeting Jesus in that beautiful, grimy face on a street I've walked a hundred times.

And for that, I am grateful. 

Want to share your own story? Link up below!

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{only a few days left to vote!}

embrace the camera: pro version

It's been awhile since I participated in "embrace the camera" over at The Anderson Crew 

(one of my new favorites, if you're looking for some good reading).

We recently had our first ever professional photo session.

It was an adventure.

Three boys in the great wide open can be hard to wrangle. 

But Janell proved she was a pro. 

I was hoping for one or two keepers, since the boys were at the top of their game, 

energy wise.

She managed to get a ton of amazing shots.

Ones I will cherish forever.

Watch out, Janell. We're definitely calling you again!

Next time there will be another one, though, so gear up :)

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the winner

My favorite little assistant helped determine the winner of the giveaway.

(we're not very high tech)

And the winner is:

Congratulations, Rachel! 

Let me know which flower you'd like from the shop, along with your address, and I will send it off to you!

And thanks to everyone who played along. If you entered your name and didn't win, but you are thinking about buying something (clutches, anyone?), send me an email for your coupon code for free shipping.

two.

My boy just turned two. I may not know everything I need to know about being a mom, but I do know...

the announcement and my first GIVEAWAY!

 I have mentioned before that I get a little overly excited about new crafty projects that I see around or dream up in my head. That means I have about 694 yards of fabric that I haven't known what to do with. Until now! At least I finally found some motivation.

With the adoption officially on the docket (we got the stamp of approval just yesterday. Eddie's birthday - coincidence? I don't think so.), I decided to open an Etsy shop (Lovely Little Whimsy) to a. use up my fabric (and give me an excuse to buy more) and b. to earn a little cash for the expenses that come along with adding another little bundle to the family. If you even glance at my shop, you may notice that I need a girl. Yes, need.

I've also built in a little page on my header up there so you can drop by whenever you please to see what's new. I am hoping to add a lot of new things all the time so there is a great variety, but I am also open to custom orders!

And now for the fun part... the giveaway.

One of my favorite items are the frayed flowers and I am going to give away one of your choosing. I can add it onto a pin to add a little whimsy to your hats, bags, jackets, and so on, or I can attach it to a headband for you or a little one in your life. You choose! I am going to make a lot more flowers this weekend, and you can pick your favorite. 

Leave a comment here with your favorite item (doesn't have to be a flower) and you're automatically entered. Become a follower and that's another entry! Tweet it and you get one more. Just leave a comment for each of your entries!

I will pick a random winner next Wednesday, July 6. 

Good luck and happy shopping!

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Psst! And don't forget to vote :)