Hope

I am reminded of them every day. When I wake up in the morning, I see on my nightstand the picture of my grandpa holding Zachary while my grandma lovingly looks down on my son and holds his tiny hand. When I go to get Zachary's breakfast, I see on my refrigerator the Bible verses I have written on index cards and I think about how my grandpa had a stack of verses on weathered cards that he studied every day. I think about my grandma when I have a cup of coffee and I tap out the beat to "Peas Porridge Hot" on my mug with my fingernails like she used to do.

My grandparents where an influential part of my growing up years. I learned many lessons from them, individually and also as a unit. My Mema taught me how to wear make up, walk in high heels, set a table and make mashed potatoes. My Pepa instilled in me a love for words when he would challenge my lexicon with new vocabulary. The best was when I came up with a word that he had to look up in the dictionary. Pepa tested me on my Bible verses for Sunday school and encouraged me to get my master's degree. Together, they taught me the importance of education, quality time, what a solid and God-centered marriage should look like and not to take myself too seriously. "Don't sweat the small stuff," Mema would say, "And it's all small stuff." Then she would give me a wink.

My Mema went to heaven on Sunday, September 21, 2014. On her way, she was reciting the 23rd Psalm and had no fear as she knew she would see her Lord soon. Though my Pepa had been suffering from Dementia for a while, he seemed to feel the void of his soul mate in this life and joined her a few months later on Wednesday, December 17.

In my 31 years, this was the first time I had to deal with death on a personal level. Though I knew that my Mema and Pepa were in heaven and that death is a natural part of life, I was filled with grief, especially after my grandma died. There were many mornings where I would tap out my Mema's tune on my coffee mug and halfway through start crying, unable to finish the childhood rhyme. Once I even called my grandma, even though I knew she wouldn't answer. I couldn't really believe that they were really gone. I hated it when people would tell me "they were in a better place." I gritted my teeth when I would hear about their full lives and all the people that they touched. I wanted to scream when I heard that I was fortunate to have had them for as long I did. I already knew all of this. It didn't make my grief disappear or even lessen. I cried because I was selfish and wanted them with me. I cried because I loved them and I missed them. I cried for all the "lasts" that I never knew were "lasts" in the moments with them. I just cried.

This Sunday is the final day of Advent. Our church had a beautiful service complete with the choir and an orchestra. Our pastor even had on a full suit instead of his usual Oxford shirt and slacks. We sang classic Christmas songs and our pastor spoke about the importance of the name of Jesus. And today as I heard these songs and words, I cried for my grandparents again. But this time, it felt different. I didn't feel sad. I felt hopeful.

Christmas is a time of hope. Over two thousand years ago, Jesus humbled himself and came down to earth as a helpless baby. Can you imagine how frustrating that must have been? God in the flesh, trapped inside the body of a baby boy, unable to care for Himself and relying on a young girl - no more than 14 or 15 - to care for his needs all so that he could grow up without riches or fame only to be hated and crucified by those He came to save. Jesus did all of that so that death could no longer be a great divider. Jesus obediently went to the cross to die for our sins because He loves us so much and didn't want to be separated from us in death. 

That night when Mary and Joseph settled into the stable that would soon become holy ground, our Savior was born and so was hope. As I sat in the pew and looked up at the manger display in front of the church, I imagined myself there with the young couple. I pictured myself asking to hold the Prince of Peace and Mary gingerly handed me her precious bundle. As I slowly brought His face to mine, my tears flowed down His cheeks. This sweet little baby boy was going to suffer for me and mankind so that someday I will be able to worship Him again with my grandparents by my side.

I sang the familiar Christmas songs this morning but I focused on their words in a new way. Though they were songs I had heard every December since I was young, I realized that we don't just sing them because it is tradition but because it is a promise of hope. Tears welled up in my eyes and I thought about my grandparents who were at that moment also praising the Lord but on the other side of Glory. 

I still miss my Mema and Pepa every day and probably always will, but today the Lord showed me that the grief of losing my grandparents was just one of the reasons why he sent his Son to this world as a little baby that first Christmas so many years ago. So that He could conquer death and so that we will be reunited in heaven. I could feel my heart twisting and yet expanding with this love that He showed to us. For while we were still sinners, God sent his only Son. That whoever shall believe in Him, will not parish but have everlasting life. (John 3:16) 

What an amazing Christmas gift of hope.

DIY Blocks

Growing up, my family attended Salem Baptist Church in Orland Park, IL. The building is still there but the church is under a different name now. In it's heyday, our church boasted of it's family programming. Sunday School, Vacation Bible School and Pioneer Clubs made Salem a popular place with the youth. My earliest memory of SBC was when I was 4. My grandparents started going to Salem before my parents did because we had not yet moved to Orland Park. One weekend my sister, Laura and I had slept over at my grandparents house and Sunday morning we all went to church. While Laura and I each held on to my grandpa's index fingers, he walked us down the green-carpeted hallway to the Beginners Class. Laura was too young for that class but because it was our first time there and she didn't want to be separated from me, the teachers let her join too. My grandpa gently hung up our little pink coats on the wooden pegs outside our class and told us he would be back to pick us up after the service. That memory is my most favorite of all my memories at Salem. I will never forget holding my Pepa's finger and looking way up at the face of that tall man as we walked down the hall. I am sure it was a sweet sight to see with two little girls in dresses quickly moving their little legs to keep up with my handsome grandpa.

The Beginners Class was a cheerful room with lots of activities, songs, games and smiling teachers. I also have one random memory of an older man who didn't have a thumb nail. I remember sitting on his lap during the story time and wondering if I should touch the thumb or not. I guess I didn't get a lot out of that Bible lesson. But I digress. There were quite a few kiddoes who trampled through that classroom and I would be willing to bet that those people have fond memories of a few or all of the following:

The fabulous felt board. I always loved it when I was able to put one of the Bible characters (or heck even the basket of fish and bread!) up on the felt board. It was like magic how they stayed up there!

Doris Bell's Barbie Shoes. One of our teachers was named Doris Bell and she dressed like a classy Dolly Parton. Every Sunday she wore peep-toe heels with no back so they moved like flip flops. I didn't even know they made shoes like that for anyone who wasn't manufactured at Mattel.

Eunice Utt's smile. Mrs. Utt was another one of our teachers. Every memory I have of her shows her wearing pearls and a long sleeved, lilac colored, belted dress, though I am sure her closet had more of a variety. She was always smiling. I am also fairly certain that she had a crush on my grandpa ever since that first day he dropped Laura and I off at Sunday School.

Mr. Berg's Bass Voice. One of the songs we sang was called 'Deep and Wide.' Mr. Berg was the dad of my friend Dale, who was also in the class with me. Mr. Berg sang 'Deep and Wide' the best because his voice was so low. I remember the first time I heard him sing I thought, how in the world does he get his voice to sound like that?! I am including this fantastic video of the song for those of you who are unfamiliar or for those of you who want to relive our Sunday School days.

The Cardboard Blocks. Man-oh-man. These blocks were the BEST and my most favorite thing to play with in the Beginners Class by a landslide. They were kept in a big cabinet with two large sliding doors which were usually locked. (I know because I loved those blocks so much, I always tried to open the doors to get them out.) The blocks had a red brick pattern on them and each block was about the size of a small shoe box.

Those cardboard blocks have always stuck with me. I thought it would be great for Zachary to have memories of building towers with such great blocks. Unfortunately, the mark up for sweet children's toys is crazy, so I decided to make my own and document it so you can make them too!

First you'll need a bunch of boxes and the sturdier your box, the longer it will last. I had quite a few boxes of diapers from when Zachary was a newborn and didn't yet fit into his cloth diapers. We also buy our baby wipes a CostCo where you can get seven huge bags of wipes in one giant box so we had a lot of those empty boxes. Then, you'll need scissors, tape, Con-Tact paper and some kind of wrapping paper so that your kids aren't really playing with empty diaper boxes. I went to Michael's and found bulletin board paper that looked like bricks. They had other selections too, but I wanted the brick pattern for nostalgia purposes.

Size 1 and 2 Diapers! I can't believe Z's tush fit in those!

Take a box and lay it out on top of your paper, like you are going to wrap it as a present, but you aren't going to cut the amount of paper that you normally would to wrap a present. I didn't want the sides to have folded angles because it would make the box look more like a present and less like a brick. Pull the paper so there is about two inches on each side of the box then cut the paper from the roll. Fold the paper around the box and tape down. There should be about two inches of excess paper one the two faces of the box that are not completely covered by paper. Fold in the corners on the sides of the box and tape down. You should have four sides that are completely covered in paper and two sides that are not. The next step will cover everything. Unroll your tube of paper and put box on top like you did in the beginning as though you were going to wrap it, but this time, put the unfinished part length-wise. Leave about two inches in each side of the box and cut the paper from the roll.

The unfinished part is length-wise to the paper.

Fold down each side so that the paper that you just cut is now the exact width of the length of the box. Tape down one side of the paper and then continue to wrap your box around the paper. As you are wrapping, you may find that you need to refold the paper to make sure that it doesn't stick out past your box.

When you are ready to complete wrapping your box, make three tape rolls and put them on the wrong side of the paper and press the paper down onto the box. This way you won't be able to see tape. It is okay it if doesn't lay perfectly flat; the next step is to put Con-Tact paper over the box which will flatten everything out and make a nice finished look.

The tape rolls (not on the wrong side of the paper, but this way you can see them.)

Roll out your Con-Tact paper in the same way you rolled out your bulletin board paper. Hopefully the width of the Con-Tact paper is larger than your box otherwise you will have to repeat this step twice by overlapping the Con-Tact paper. While the wax paper is still on the Con-Tact paper make sure that it will completely cover the four sides of your box and then cut it from the roll. Slowly peel the wax paper off of the adhesive part. Honestly, this part is the biggest pain. The first box I covered in Con-Tact paper was my downfall. I pulled the paper too quickly and ripped the paper in a ton of parts which meant then that I had to scrape off little bits of wax paper. Ugh! So learn from my hastiness; go slowly. The next trick I figured out was that it was easier to pull the wax paper off if there was a little weight on the end of the adhesive part. Since using my arm meant peeling it off later, I would put the box down and then hold onto the box as I peeled the rest of the wax paper off. Then slowly roll your box down the Con-Tact paper until all four sides are covered.

Torture yourself long enough to have enough space to put the box down.

 "But rectangular prisms have six sides, not four!" Yes, you are right, my little geometry experts! So let's take care of the remaining two naked sides. After you have rolled the Con-Tact paper around your box, you will have left over parts on the edges. Cut a triangle in each of the corners and then fold down the tabs.

Triangle cut into the corners.

Next you will cut out a piece of Con-Tact paper that it will cover the remaining exposed paper. You can make this a little smaller than the surface area of the two remaining sides because you already folded over some of the Con-Tact paper in the previous step. You will find that peeling the wax paper off of these small pieces of Con-Tact paper is SOOOO much easier than the large sheet you did previously. I found that the easiest way to make sure that you put the Con-Tact on without any air bubbles was to press down the top part of the adhesive to the box and then pull the paper down to make sure it is straight.

Repeat this step for the remaining naked side and then sit back and marvel at your amazing work! Your kids will love them! If you have good sturdy boxes, they will last a long time thanks to the droll-barrier of the Con-Tact paper AND they were super cheap. Let's break down my costs. I bought the bulletin board paper at Michael's for $8.99 (bonus points if you use a coupon!) I bought the Con-Tact paper for $5.79 at Target. For about $15, I was able to make four large boxes at $3.75 per block and they are a great size and they have a droll-proof cover. I win. I really do win, I can't wait to build with them. Oh wait . . . I already have.

Bam! My DIY blocks rock!

 

I'm Sorry, Mom

They say that the job of a mother is the most delayed gratifying job on the planet. Now that I have been a mom for almost a year I have quickly realized that "they" are correct. I have also used this year as a time to reflect about my own mom and her hardships. So, with Mother's Day coming up this weekend, I thought I would share a few apologies to my mom based on what I have learned and experienced during my first year as a mom. Pattie Kohler, this is for you.

Mom, I am sorry for my flatulence. Last night, after I gave my little man a bath, I was drying off his bottom and getting ready to put his diaper on when he let out a toot that I swear I could taste. After I finished gagging, I looked at his sweet face and realized that he had no idea that it is considered poor manners to fart in someone's face. Then I realized that Baby Pam probably did that to my mom. So, Mom, I just wanted to say that I am sorry. I know when you looked at my chubby cheeks as a wee babe, I did not know what I was doing but I would like to apologize for that now. And while we are on the topic of bodily functions . . .

Mom, I am sorry for designing your outfits out of my pee/poop/spit up/split peas/rice

Baby Pamela got all the nasties clean off before Mom did.

cereal/formula/etc. There have been days this past year when I finally sat down after putting Zachary to bed and assessed myself, I realized I was wearing food from every meal Zachary consumed that day. There was no such thing as "I'll wear these jeans again tomorrow." In fact, I keep a Tide stick in the diaper bag for all the times Z has spit up on me. I have had to change clothes countless times because newborn poop is like something from out of this world and it cannot be contained by a mere diaper.  So Mom, I am sorry that as a baby I made you look like you just walked through a cafeteria during a food fight and I am sorry that I treated your clothes like a public restroom. That was very disrespectful and I humbly apologize.

Mom, I am sorry that I ruined your ta-tas. Yep, I went there. I am getting a little personal here folks, I wouldn't say that my girls were ever spectacular, but breastfeeding has completely ruined them. Don't get me wrong, I have really enjoyed nursing. It is nice to be able to sit down for a little res-bit and snuggle with my baby - especially now that he moves around so much, but good grief! I need to tape them up like Roberta did in the movie Now and Then. (That reference will probably only make sense to girls who grew up during the 90's.) Not only are the ta-tas tainted but my whole body has completely changed like the width of my rib cage to my hips. I don't recognize this thing I am living in anymore. So Mom, I am sorry that as a baby I made you feel like an alien in your own body.

No pictures please, it was a rough night.

Mom, I am sorry I made you feel like an extra as a zombie in the Walking Dead. The first few months of being a new mom are probably similar to being in the trenches at war. You can't sleep for more than an hour or two at a time, you are always on guard, always hungry and weep for your former life. At least you get to snuggle with a cute baby instead of a musket. I definitely suffered from the Baby Blues but I think a lot of that was sleep deprivation. It wasn't until Zachary started sleeping through the night that I felt like a "normal" person again - and I use that word very loosely because I am still in survival mode. Thankfully, I did have you (I am speaking to my mom here since I don't believe my entire fan base was in my home the first few weeks after Zachary was born, but I wouldn't really call myself "lucid" at that point either, so I could be wrong; if so, then I am also speaking to those who were present.) to help me and allow me to get 4 hours of sleep (which was like heaven at the time). So Mom, I am sorry that as a baby I woke you up every three hours just so I could ruin your ta-tas. I was so inconsiderate to not think about how you just pushed a watermelon out of your body and would probably like to rest.

I know what my mom is saying as she is reading this. "It was all worth it and I would do it again." When we are in the difficult moments, it is good to remember that. The thing is that babies are rude and selfish little blobs that don't understand that people don't like to be bothered between the hours of 11 pm and 6 am. But, there are so many things that make all the hard stuff worth it. Like the little teeny toes that poke out of the swaddling blanket, the gas-producing giggle that happens at a 3am feeding, the giant smile you get when you walk into the room, or when your sweet baby rests his head on your shoulder while he sucks his thumb. In those moments you forget about the hard stuff and your cup runneth over. You realize that Pattie is right, it's all worth it, but is doesn't hurt to hear a "thank you" and an "I'm sorry" every now and then.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I am sorry I was such a baby. Thank you for loving me.

I mean, it helped that I was so cute.

Carts, Carts, Crappy Carts

Friday night was a crazy night in the Carlson Casa. After putting Zachary to bed, I thought I would go to the grocery store since Troy was engrossed in the Blackhawks game. (It's playoff season which means there is always a lot of yelling, clapping and pacing in front of the television during these games; and I am not talking about me or Zachary.) It is a rare occurrence that I get to use both hands and grocery shopping without the boys has come to be somewhat of a treat. Plus, I had actually made an effort with my appearance that day and thought I should probably show off my straightened hair and eyeliner to perfect strangers who don't care. 

I grabbed my wallet and hopped into my G6 which I hardly ever drive any more because I bought the coup when I was still dating Troy. The idea of purchasing a sedan so that I could one day put a car seat in the back was so far removed in my mind, though now I wish I would have opted for the four door. But, I liked how sporty the 2-door looked and knew it would be my last "cool" car before I entered responsible adulthood. Well, responsible adulthood came knocking last May 30th and now my cool car sits in the driveway, unloved because it is a pain in the you-know-what to get the car seat and the wee babe in the back. But I digress . . . I decided to take my cool car and head over to our 24 hour Kroger at 9 pm, the time that most young adults are just getting ready to go out and go dancing or hang out with their friends. Meanwhile, I am struggling to stay awake on my 2 mile drive to get the family's weekly groceries.

Once I got to Kroger, I sat in my car with my eyes closed for a minute, reveling in the quiet and wondering if I should have just taken my straightened hair to bed instead of the grocery store. Then I realized that I would very easily fall asleep right there in the car so I had better get my buns perpendicular. Besides, maybe the motorized carts would be available for a tired mom's use. (I will shamefully admit, I honestly thought about using the motorized carts, but you will be pleased to know that I got around the store on with my own leg power.)

6 Month CostCo Cutie

I walk over to the cart bay and grab the cart closest to me. As I started to wheel it into the store, I was shocked that I picked a good cart! I don't know what it is, but I am notorious for picking the worst cart in the bunch. There are times when I go through 4 carts - no joke -  only to pick the 5th cart that is still crappy but will at least get the job done. When I shop with Z, I tend to discard more than if I am not with him because so many of those dang safety belts are knotted, tangled, caught in the metal bars, missing, or gross. So when I grabbed this cart, I was half tempted to go buy a lottery ticket because I thought it was my lucky day! . . . . . Then I turned the cart and the whole thing almost tipped. Typical. Good thing I didn't buy a lottery ticket. I finished my shopping with the crappy cart, mostly because I was too tired to get another one, but I woke up the next morning with Popeye-like biceps due to my mad-style maneuvering cart skills.

Why is it so tough to get a quality cart? Why does every cart have a wheel that jumps, or twine spun around on the wheels, or garbage in the cart, or a missing plastic handle bar, or rattles so loud people in the parking lot can hear your cart, or a wheel that refuses to spin, etc., etc., etc.? Does anyone ever check the carts? Do they go in for a routine inspection? Why the inhumanity?! I just want to haul my groceries around the store in a quiet and smooth fashion!

Honestly, if I were in charge of marketing for these grocery chains, I wouldn't focus on low prices. I would advertise how awesome my carts were and what an enjoyable experience you will have steering them all over my store. If I saw an ad like that, I would shop at that store. Done and done.

Alas, there are bigger fish to fry in this crazy thing we call life. So, I will leave you with this one tip to help make your crappy cart situation more manageable. When you go to grab a cart and is links up with another and you can't free one cart, pick up the handle so the back two wheels lift up and then let go of the handle to drop to the ground. When you go to pull the cart, only one will pull away. I wish I could take credit for that, but the lady at the Starbucks inside the Kroger told me that after she saw me struggle with a cart and then consequently give up to get a latte.

If you have never had a problem with a crappy cart then you can just disregard what you have read here and you should probably go buy a lottery ticket and then split your winnings with me since it was my idea.

Just Wait . . .

This may be a little personal here, but since we're all friends, I'll tell you that I just came out of the bathroom. I was taking care of business when I saw a hole in the top layer of the toilet paper. Earlier in the day, I needed to "take care of business" and doing so while Zachary is awake is rather tricky. He crawls at rapid speeds now and has also developed a new fascination with toilet paper. He loves to pull on it so it unrolls all over the floor, and he loves to pick pieces off and . . . eat them. I know, it's so gross, but this kid puts everything in his mouth and most of the time he is too fast for me, which means that I have to go "fishing" in his mouth. I have found all sorts of non-eatable things; dirt clumps, small wood chips, grass, paper, dried up cheese from his last meal which he threw on the ground and somehow Bruce missed, etc. 

Discovering the kitchen cabinets

This kid is definitely all boy. His new favorite game is climbing up on his chair in his room and then flinging himself off so that I will catch him. He doesn't really understand that I need to be aware that we are playing this game. I have - thankfully - caught him each time, but sometimes it is with more fragile body parts . . . like my nose. Ouch! I may or may not have cried after his big head nailed me in the schnoz . . . okay, I did cry and do you know how hard it is to cry and still sympathetically tell your son that Mommy is okay? He didn't know what to think!

It is amazing how quickly these little babies grow in their first year. A few months ago, Zachary was content just sitting up and a few months before that he was just rolling over and a few months before that he didn't move at all! (I should have reveled in "taking care of business" without an audience then.) I have loved each stage of Zachary's development because it is revealing more of his personality. I love watching him internalize everything because he gets that from Troy and I love watching him adjust objects with precision because he gets that from me. 

That being said, this afternoon, when I saw that hole in the toilet paper, in my head I could hear mothers who have gone before me say "Just wait until he starts moving, he will get into EVERYTHING!" Are they right, well yes, but honestly, I don't hear that voice with cheerfulness. These are the mothers who are trying to devalue the difficultly of the developmental stage of your child. Clearly, they have a more strenuous stage, ergo they are the better mother. What bologna! (By the way, did you just read that the way it is spelled? I always do!) Even if you're not a mom, you have heard these people too. Your voice may sound like, "Just wait until you get married...." or "Just wait until you buy a house..." or "Just wait until you get in the 'real world'..." These are people who see you enjoying your life and want to rain on your parade. These people are . . . butt-heads. Yes, I just said "butt-heads" mostly because it is true and also I dare you to read that word without smiling.

As I was looking at that hole in the toilet paper, I decided to hush up that gross, condescending, voice and focus instead on the cute, chubby little fingers that tore that hole and those fantastic cheeks that accompanies the smile of the face that sees the door to the bathroom is open so that he can wreck havoc on the roll of toilet paper. I don't care what those moms say. I can wait until the next stage because I am so much enjoying the current stage. When Zachary moves onto the next stage, I will love that too. So essentially, I guess I am taking their advice. I will "just wait."

Hibernation

Troy and I miss some parts of our Minnesota lives. We miss our friends, Calvary Church, a delicious Juicy Lucy from the 5-8 Club (yeah that's right all you Matt's fans, we have sworn our allegiance to the 5-8!); but there is one thing that makes living in Cincinnati so fabulous, and it is the weather. We have been enjoying above freezing temperatures for weeks now. Our grass is green, our trees are budding and I have beautiful white flowers on my magnolia tree. Our season of hibernation has ended with the renewal of spring!

Many people have a ritual of "spring cleaning" once Old Man Winter leaves. I have never done that because I can't stand to have needless clutter in my house, so "spring cleaning" happens almost every week. However, I do have a ritual which is performed each spring. My ritual is shaving my legs. You read that right. Shaving throughout the winter seems pointless. Ladies, can I get an "Amen!"? Once I get out of the shower, I get cold and the goosebumps run rapid all over my legs, pushing the hair back up and out on the surface of my skin. Sometimes my goosebumps get goosebumps! So, during the winter months, (I am going to get personal with you here) I will shave about once a week - that is about how long it takes for the hair to rub against my jeans and gross me out. Once the weather starts to get nice, I want to pull out my shorts or don a dress, and the fur that once kept me warm through the winter, is somewhat unappealing and unnecessary. 

Another thing that is unappealing are the extra pounds that seemed to have taken up residence on my body without even signing a lease first. I tell Troy that it is harder to lose weight in the winter because your body is trying to stay warm by holding on to extra fat. I know that is a bunch of malarkey, but doesn't it sound nice? And it would explain why all those movie starts are so skinny, living in sunny L.A. Once the weather warms up and I am no longer able to hide under my bulky sweaters, I realize that I need to shed the pounds as well as my furry stems and if we are being honest, I am hoping that my hairy legs are the culprits for the scale showing are larger number.

Of course the final part of coming out of hibernation would entail my wardrobe. Spring is a tricky season. You wake up in the morning to temperatures in the upper 40's or lower 50's, but then by the afternoon it is in the 70's so essentially you need to plan two outfits for the day and they need to be layered. This leads every woman to look at all her clothes hanging in her closet and bemoan that she has nothing to wear, much to the confusion of their male counterpart.

This spring has not only brought me the tri-fecta of issues coming out of hibernation but I feel like they are exponentially more challenging. This is my first spring with my sweet baby boy, who will be turning one at the end of May. Shaving my legs while trying to figure out how to take care of a baby seemed even less worth the effort during the winter months. Despite my daily cardio routine, baby fat has not only signed a lease, but also gave me first and last month's deposit. (I am told these pounds will melt off after I wean Z from nursing - that had better be true.) And due to this post-prego body, my wardrobe isn't really thrilling me these days.

However, even as I type this, I am looking out my window and seeing a gorgeous sunny day, our pear tree full of leaves and flowers and my cloth diapers swinging in the breeze as they dry in the spring sunshine. With my laptop resting on my furry legs, a muffin top spilling over my frumpy clothes, these woes don't seem so bad when I look out the window. Halleluiah! We are out of hibernation! Welcome Spring!

Loving the Spring Sunshine!

The Look

Troy's sister, Tricia came to the Queen City to visit us during her spring break. Considering she was

Trying to unpack Aunt Tricia's things. Z didn't want her to go.

coming from Minneapolis, we teased her that she was flying south for spring break, unfortunately, we don't have any palm trees in Cincinnati.  She flew into the Cincinnati / Northern Kentucky Airport but was flying out the Dayton International Airport because she found a good deal. I had never been to the Dayton Airport so the night before Tricia's departure, I punched the address into my GPS so that I wouldn't have to fumble with my phone and a baby at the same time when we needed to get out the door. Google Maps has a feature which also allows users to write comments and I read many comments about how the Dayton Airport is a convenient and small airport with lots of shops and vendors after you pass through security. I suddenly had mixed feelings because on the one hand, I love looking at the little shops and on the other hand, I always feel like a criminal with an ankle bracelet when I walk into one.

I remember when I was a kid and would go into stores without a parent or wander away from my grown up to look at the merchandise on my own, I always felt the eyes of the store clerk on me. I am sure that it was just because I was a kid and they wanted to make sure I wouldn't steal or break or wipe a booger on something, but I always felt their eyes burrowing into my neck. I remember as a young adult still feeling that way and thinking, "I can be here! I am a grown up!" However, as I have gotten older, these stares have faded (sadly along with getting carded when I order a glass of wine) but there is one place where 'The Look' is still going strong, regardless of age/gender/race/creed. Airport shops.

Tricia and I were talking about this on the way to the airport and how these airport shops with their beady-eyed cashiers are such a stark contrast to places like Barnes and Noble. Troy and I have made Barnes and Noble date nights. We would go to the book store, stalk the people sitting in the comfy chairs, snag said chairs, get a coffee and read stacks of magazines. Then when we read everything we wanted or the store is closing, we would leave. Barnes and Noble expects you to do this, that is why they have the chairs and the coffee bars because some people will go ahead and make purchases, as I have done in the past. Airport shops are not like this though.

The airport shops have snacks, traveling crap that you think will come in handy on your next trip but you'll never use again, books, magazines and sometimes clothes because when you go on a business trip and you forget to get something for your wife, picking up a Cincinnati Red's T-shirt at the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky Airport is convenient......hypothetically speaking, of course. I personally love to look at the books and especially the magazines. I am a sucker for the trashy celebrity magazines, with US Weekly being my favorite. However, every time I go into one of those shops, the cashier looks at me like I have been finger painting and am about to sit on her white couch. I always feel like a 5 year old, who wandered away from my mommy and shouldn't be touching anything, let alone my vice, US Weekly.

Am I alone here? Does anyone else feel like the cashiers at the airport shops are waiting to tackle you if you touch their merchandise without waving your credit card that them first? I don't fly too often these days, but I think for my next flight I will make a sign that says;

"My flight is delayed. I am not planning on purchasing any of your overpriced crap. I do however plan on reading it and then walking out of here. If you are nice, maybe I will buy a bag of Combos....but only if I work up an appetite from reading your current issue of US Weekly.  

Be warned: if you come at me, I know Kung Fu. 

Have a nice day."

I hope I can fit that sign in the overhead compartment.

In Your Face Fabric Lady! (Part III - Burlap Monogrammed Frame)

Well, well, well. I see you're back for more. I knew you would want to see my victory lap as this is the last installment of the "In Your Face Fabric Lady" **series. Don't worry, I'll have more creative blog posts in the future, but this is the last project I made with the stuff that I bought from that particular Jo-Ann Fabric shopping trip and burlap was one of the fabrics that the Fabric Lady cut for me.

This project all started with our friends Paul and Brooke Berg. For a wedding shower gift, they bought us a black frame that held twelve 4x6 photos and I put our wedding pictures in that frame. When we moved from Minneapolis to Cincinnati, I had unpacked all our frames and had them resting against our hutch. One morning before church, I accidentally knocked the Berg frame over and the glass broke. I immediately started crying because even though it could be replaced, when I looked at that frame, I always thought of Brooke and Paul and I was really missing our good friends. Anyway, Troy gave me a big hug, we swept up the glass and replaced the frame, but I kept the original frame without the glass because I just knew I could do something crafty with it.

I saw on Pinterest that someone had wrapped the inside of a picture frame in burlap and then put their initial in the middle of the frame. I thought that was so cute and I love monogrammed stuff, so I thought I would make my own with the Berg frame. First I removed the dividers for all the pictures. (Don't worry, I saved it in case it comes in handy for a future craft project!) Then I opened up the back of the frame and took out the cardboard insert. I took my burlap and wrapped it around the cardboard and then stapled the burlap into place along the edges of the cardboard. This was a little bit tedious. I had to remove staples and then re-staple in some places after pulling the fabric to make sure it would be tight.

The back doesn't have to look pretty. It gets covered up, but you get the idea.

I put the backing back on but when I flipped the frame over, I realized that even though I stapled the burlap as close to the edge of the cardboard as possible, you could still see some of the staples and that drove me crazy. You should have seen me assess this problem. I literally put the frame on my desk and walked past it a bunch of times to see if it was noticeable. It was. I had left over cord rope from my nautical flags project, so I decided to hot glue the rope along the edges and then tie a knot in the middle where the ends meet. I loved how it turned out! Good thing those staples were being stubborn! Otherwise, I wouldn't have even tried the rope! See, sometimes mistakes can be awesome and lead to cool realizations. (Cue the Full House, "we have fixed all of life's problems" music)

I love me some nautical rope!

I bought a large wooden letter 'C' (for Carlson, obviously) and then a small wooden plaque. Unfortunately, I didn't take pictures of these next steps so you're going to have visualize with me. First I painted both the 'C' and the plaque black. Then on the plaque, I used scrapbook stickers and put "est. 2007" (that was the year the hubs and I got married.) I wanted the wooden signs to look a little distressed, so then I painted both of them white. That's right, I painted right over the stickers. I was a little nervous how the plaque would look when I pulled the stickers off because they looked like they weren't going anywhere after being painted. However, the stickers were easy to take off using a pair of tweezers. Then I lightly sanded both the letter 'C' and the plaque. You only need to sand in areas where you want the background color to show through. After I distressed the plaque, I realized that the lettering didn't pop as much as I would like. So I got a very thin paintbrush and painted the letters black so they would pop.

All distressed and ready to go.

After the wooden pieces were dry, I placed them on my burlap frame, but I felt like there was too much negative space. The project needed something else. I decided to paint our last name on the burlap and then have the wooden pieces glued above and below the name. However, I already hot glued the rope to the frame, so I really couldn't mess up. I decided I should do a practice run to see how the letters would turn out. I cut a small piece of burlap and sponged my paint over the stencil. When I pulled the stencil off, I thought it looked great and was ready to proceed to the real deal.

This picture is brought to you by the letter 'A'

I grabbed my trusty blue painter's tape and put a long piece of tape going horizontally along my frame where I wanted my letters to be. This was going to be my guide. I always lined up the top part of my stencils with this piece of tape. I measured the frame and found the middle, so I started with the letter that was in the middle of our name, 'L.' I thought it would be easier to work out both sides to ensure the name would be center.

Maybe I have a future as a hand model?

I took a sponge brush and sponged black acrylic paint over the stencil and then slowly peeled the stencil off the burlap. I let the letter mostly dry before I painted the next letter; it doesn't really take too long because you aren't saturating the burlap with the paint. For the rest of the letters, I wanted to make sure there would be good spacing. I would put the stencil under the painted letters to see how closely I wanted the letters to be. Then I would put a little tick mark on the top of the stencil and then carefully follow an imaginary line up to the blue painter's tape and put another tick mark on the tape. Then I would bring the stencil up to the tape and match the tick marks. Be sure that you pick the stencil up and not drag it up because you don't want to smear any paint that may not have dried on a previous letter.

Matching the tick marks to make sure there is even spacing between letters.

After I finished all my letters, I took a minute to exhale because this whole time I was sort of holding my breath. I was nervous that the lettering wouldn't look good and I had already stapled the burlap and hot glued the rope to the frame, so I had little wiggle room for mistakes, like none. I liked the outcome! I plugged in my trusty hot glue gun and glued the wooden 'C' and the plaque to the burlap.

I loved it! I thought my final product turned out even better than what I had seen on Pinterest! I hung that bad boy up in our foyer and then took a picture and sent it to my sister, Laura who agrees that this craft was the bomb-diggity.The Berg frame has been reborn! Hurray!

Wow, I feel like so much has happened since the Fabric Lady openly challenged me to a craft off. (I may have made that up in my mind.) So many crafts; so much sewing, so much paint, so much fun. With that, friends, I would say it's time to put up the final score and run a few victory laps.

Pam 4, Fabric Lady 0 . . . . . Boom-Sha-ka-la-ka!

** For previous posts from this series, see the following:
Fabric, Glue and Macaroni
In Your Face Fabric Lady (Part I - Pennant Bunting)
In Your Face Fabric Lady (Part II -Nautical Flags)
More Nautical Nursery Decor