Cute as a button

Well, Chris' time away has nearly come to an end and we are all still alive. We will meet him at the airport tomorrow with three hugs, three kisses, and a cookie, lovingly made by Bela. Just one cookie, you ask? Yes. We ate the other 23. Since yesterday.

Anyway, the last almost 10 days have given me plenty of material for my first edition of 'The Ugly Truth', due out in a few short days. But in the meantime, I wanted to share a little bit about my littlest, my baby. Mae. But Mae as seen through the eyes of a fellow mother.

A friend of mine from work has a son and daughter at the same school as Bela and Mae. In fact, her kids are in Mae's class, so she gets a lot of peeks inside that part of Mae's life that I never see, and she very kindly shares stories with me and has graciously allowed me to repost them here.

October 26, 2010
Hi Katie,

... I saw your posting of Mae in her Dorothy dress and I had to share what D, my son, has been saying for weeks on end at home. Each time I sing in my usual funny-mom way, D will say that I should go to school with him one day to hear how BEAUUUUUUTIFUL Mae Mae sings. He says that she sings better than any teacher he's ever heard. He doesn't bring home a Mae Mae story every day, but when he does, he's always got a happy face.

 January 3, 2011
We could NOT get enough of Mae Mae today. I had to write to tell you she is absolutely adorable...in EVERY sense of the word. She had R cracking up at her knock-knock jokes (the bear in his underwear). At the table during cake time, I told her I heard birdies outside City Garden chirping away saying that Mae Mae was the best singer at City Garden. She smiled and said that it couldn't be true because birdies don't talk. The other kids were mesmerized that a birdie talked to me (or that I understood what it said), but Mae Mae, nope.

January 27, 2011
I wanted to to share a Mae Mae moment: On Monday when we walked into the City Garden classroom kitchen for our parent/teacher conference session with [the teacher], Mae had just gotten up from her nap. She looked adorable with her bright red cheeks. She was also crabby. I said hello and she responded with a big smile. So far so good. I then proceeded to ask how she was. Silence. I asked if she had had a good nap. Silence. At that point she had started eating her tostada chips. She munched away and when I went to say good-bye, she looked over at me, smiled and then pointed to her food and said, "I'm eating right now, so I can't talk." I could swear she muttered, "maybe later." 

Thank you so much for those glimpses into Mae's little world. It always brightens my day when I read them.

PS - You know your husband knows you well when he soberly buys you a stash of buttons from Paris and he knows it is the best imaginable gift ever. That image of the buttons at the top of this page is from him. A "sampling", as he puts it, of what he found for me abroad. Not only does he love the nerd in me, he fully indulges it. You gotta love a man like that.

Three Links

Well, things are starting to feel a little desperate around here.

Chris left Cairo just in time to miss the massive street demonstrations--much to his chagrin, I'm sure. I would imagine it was quite the photo op. Anyway, the girls and I have traced his route from Cairo to Paris, and I was glad to hear that his little feet carried him to Le Comptoir (!). I can't wait to see what he got for me, and I have no shame in saying it.

Tonight before bed little fingers will trace his route across Bela's new globe (thank you Grandma Lou). He will be leaving the Eiffel tower behind and heading to Zurich to set forth on his journey to Davos.

As I write this I'm being serenaded by the sounds of the usually off-limits-on-weekdays television and the click click click of the convection oven as it lovingly prepares a homemade meal of frozen fish filets for the girls. If I can muster up the strength to open a jar of tomato sauce, we might have pasta too.

I have to face it. I've got S.A.D.  Bad. And Chris' absence only underscores the bleakness of everything right now. Chicago, when was the last time we saw the sun? The next three days couldn't go faster.

The girls are anxious too. This morning Bela and Mae woke up in bed with me, and Mae rolled over to me and said:
     "I miss my daddy." And, as an afterthought: "And my flower blanket, too." At least she said daddy first.

Bela very dramatically -- as is her style these days-- said she was feeling sad because it seemed like he was never going to come home. I think she is suffering withdrawal right now. No one will play hide and seek with her, or tickle her until she wets herself. Boring Mom.

I just keep on keeping on. I finished Mae's sweater and will post a picture when it is done blocking. I also took two hats off the needles since the weekend, one will be mailed to my sister-in-law, one is for me to replace my favorite blue hat that I stupidly shrunk in the dryer. I've also got a pullover sweater almost finished for Bela and another cardigan for her that I'm casting on tonight. She picked the yarn this time, so hopefully she'll wear it.

And so we'll pass the days until Chris gets back and we can all rest easy.

Six links

There are now six links on our chain. 

     Grandma Lou is here, helping to keep us company this weekend. We've watched movies, made waffles, and have been thoroughly beaten in I Spy, Eagle Eye and a particularly cut throat game of Memory. 

     Yesterday Grandma, the girls and I churned out some handmade Valentines for school, and then headed to the grocery store to pass the time. For fun, I asked Bela and Mae to make the shopping list:

Bela's List

Cupcakes

Olives

Tomato Soup

Apples

Bananas

Kiwi

Pears

Carrots 

Edamame

Fish

Oranges

Pepperoni

Mae's List

Pepperoni

Rice

Avocado

Mac & Cheese

Bacon 

Bananas

Apples

     I love that number one on Bela's list is cupcakes, only to be followed by olives. Mae is a girl after my own heart with the avocado and the bacon. In the end, our list didn't vary much from what they dictated to me earlier in the day, and they ended up eating cupcakes for lunch and olives at dinner.

     With Chris gone, I've had a lot (too much) time alone and have really made some progress on a sweater for Mae that I started less than a week ago. The yarn is a cotton/wool blend, and I got it at a Glenview yarn shop that is going out of business. Over the course of the last week, I have made two visits to that store and one to another, and have now tripled my yarn stash. If you could see it you would either be very, very jealous, or very, very sorry for me. It's shameful, really. Today I finish a hat for my sister-in-law, to be shipped off to Portland.

Cotocani yarn; Tiny Tea Leaves pattern (size 4)

Nine links

The man of the house has left the...house. The girls and I are missing him, and nine days seem awfully long to the young (and hey, the old too). SO! We made this little paper chain with nine little links, and we hung it from the windows that line our kitchen and look out onto our play room and out over our yard. Every morning when my sleepy little girls wake up and have their toast and their tea and their frozen strawberries, they will cut one link from this chain.

Bela added a little message and a happy face to the last link, the one we will cut next Saturday morning when we wake up and know that later that day we will drive to the airport and pick up Dad.

Dad guilt

Remember that post I made back in December about Mom guilt? I've been thinking about it lately, except from the point of view of a Dad. Chris and I were talking about parental guilt not too long ago, and he asked me for a specific example of what I meant about Mom guilt not equaling Dad guilt.

From my limited point of view, I answered the following: If our family had not contributed to the Christmas Fair at school back in December, no one would say: "Wow. Chris didn't even bake a quiche to donate." If we sent our kids to school in beat up clothes that never matched, no one would say: "Who is their father? Why does he dress them this way?"

They would, in fact, be asking about me. They would be questioning, if even secretly, my worth as a Mom. I don't think I'm overly paranoid. I think this is a fact of life--a cruel, uneven, unfair, disparaging analysis of the role of a mother.

But like I said, my point of view is often limited. Luckily, I am married to a man who challenges my point of view, even at the risk of his well-being. I was not considering the role that Dad Guilt plays in our lives at all.

Right now our conversations at home seem to center on where we'll send Bela to first grade. If you know anything about Chicago Public Schools, you know that it is damn near impossible to get your kids into the coveted Magnet schools. No matter if they are or are not better schools, they carry an image and that image manifests itself in copious quantities of applications for admission, lottery style.

Needless to say, Bela did not get in to any of those sought-after public (read, "free") schools last year, though we are exceedingly happy with her Waldorf school. Now, next year she will enter first grade and her time at her current school will come to an end. Do we fork over the large number of dollars to send her to the new Waldorf school in Pilsen? Or do we send her to our free neighborhood school, even though we will have to take her out of that school and move her to a different public school when we move in the next year or so?

We've sat around doing the math for weeks. The Waldorf school is tempting, and Bela really thrives in that environment. But on the other hand, we can come up with a pretty awesome list of things we could do with and for Bela with the money it would take us to send her to first grade.

Well, during these discussions, Chris pointed out something I hardly ever give any thought to, something as equally outrageous as the beliefs and judgments I base my "mom guilt" on: If we tell the school board that we have decided not to send Bela to Waldorf school for first grade because we can't afford it, they are not going to say - "Katie should really get a better job."

And there you have it. Dad guilt. Preposterous that a family's financial/parental worth boils down to the Dad's job. Automatically. I hadn't put much thought into it before, I'm always so busy moaning about how unfair perceptions of motherhood are at times.

PS - Another form of Dad guilt is taking hold in our home right now as well. Chris is an awesome photographer and gets the chance to travel a lot for his job. As a  younger man (though he is still a young man) this held a lot of interest, excitement, and promise for him. Don't get us wrong! It still does. But right now he is packing for a 10 day trip that will take him to Cairo, Egypt; Paris, France; and Davos, Switzerland. The thrill of solo-traveling and nights spent alone in foreign lands in hotel rooms away from his girls has lost its appeal, and lucky for us he wants to be at home. I, on the other hand, am drooling with envy, and have slipped the names and addresses of a select group of parisian craft and yarn stores into his pocket. Along with some cab fare to get him there.

Safe travels, dear. I love you so much.

Dear Bela

Bela,

The day we found out you were coming we were shocked and surprised. We weren't planning on you, but you came anyway and our lives have never been the same. You are one of the kindest, most compassionate 6 year old girls I have ever known. You are delicate and strong. Gentle but determined. You are stubborn and outspoken. You make friends wherever you go. You are reading more every day, you are endlessly creative and inquisitive. You want so badly to grow up and yet seem so saddened at times at saying goodbye to the toddler girl in you. We love you more than life itself, Bela.

You have been our partner in all sorts of journeys. You have traveled to the Oregon Coast, the Florida beaches, the Pyrenees, New York City, the campground, the playground, the lake, the dunes. You are daring and adventurous and love a good challenge.

We, too, mourn your passing toddler years, but look with excitement at all the changes you're going through. You are our first born, and we will love you profoundly forever and ever.

waiting, ready to BURST

01/16/2005

Summer 2005

Summer 2005

Autumn 2005 - Black River Falls

Winter 2005 (Almost 1) Sanibel Florida

2 Years Old

1 1/2 yrs old. Oregon Coast

Almost 3 years old - Oregon Coast

Almost 3 - Lincoln City, OR

Farmer's Market - 3 yrs old

Wandawega - 3 years old

Ravinia - Kids Circus 3 years old

Spring 2009

Wandawega - 4 years old

Barcelona, Spain. 4 years old

Catalonian Pyrenees, 2009

Summer 2009

Spring 2010 - Smoky Mountains

Spring 2010 - Smoky Mountain National Park

Summer 2010 - 5 years old

Birthday fun

Bela turned six today. I'm putting together a little photo montage of the last 6 years of her life right now, but in the meantime I thought I'd share some of our celebration with you. We had a lot of plans for today, but Mae woke up in the night, in our bed, and said in the most grown-up and exasperated of ways: "Does anybody have any WATER in here?" She had a fever, and her "mouth hurt" (sore throat?). So we scrapped our Shedd Aquarium plans.

Yesterday Bela had a "grandma" date in Glenview with her Great Grandma Dori and her Grandma Paula. They went to lunch and to the Botanic Garden. Today, we are enjoying a lazy morning and afternoon, and are - in fact- all still in our pajamas. But that doesn't mean we haven't accomplished anything.

Bela and Mae spent the morning watching The Princess and the Frog and playing the new "I Spy" game Grandma got for Bela.  Paula spent a lot of last night and this morning playing this game with the girls, to my ever-lasting gratitude. It gave me the time to finish (only somewhat belatedly) Bela's birthday present.

A year and a half ago, I got it in my head that I wanted to make Papier mache puppets, complete with hand-sewn little outfits. Bela and I made two heads and even managed to get them painted a color somewhat resembling skin. I even got eyebrows and a mustache on the king. And then they sat. And sat and sat. Recently I dumped the little heads in Chris' lap and instructed him to finish the faces, which he happily did. I set to the clothes.

Soon-to-be King and Queen

To complete the gift, I made a doorway puppet theater - something I've also been thinking of doing for a long time. The best part of the puppet theater is that I didn't buy a single thread of fabric or piece of material to do it. Recently my friend Leslie gave me a very large box of very girly fabric she had inherited from a friend. I used this fabric for the body and the curtains of the theater. I also have at home a bag of sewing notions that once belonged to my Grandmother. The bag, when I found it, was filled with embroidery floss, ribbon, yarn, old tracing paper, tracing wheels, a fabric doll pattern she had used to make me a doll on my second birthday, and little white bobble trim. Well, I used the bobble trim under the valances and the pink ribbon to tie back the curtains.

Grandma Ellis' bobble trim

Grandma Libby's old Viking Sewing Machine

Bobble trim, hand-me-down fabric

Katie: 1. Serger: 0

The unveiling

All done!

Enjoy these photos of our birthday weekend!

This Moment - January 14

A moment from our week, almost 6 years ago to the day.... absolutely no words necessary.

Folk School

Original Source here

I'm back to work folks (insert audible sigh here). I've had a few blog ideas spinning through my head this week, including a (non-sarcastic) post about the pleasures of grocery shopping, and another that documents what happens in the house when the only one to fall asleep during nap time is Mommy. But then I opened the mail today, and now all I can do is dream about school.

Considering the amount of grumbling and drama I inject into our home at this time of year--when winter break comes to an end and the full reality of my life as a working mom hits me in January--you're probably surprised to hear I'm indulging in scholastic dreams. Well, rest assured good readers, I have my sights set on Folk School.

Take a walk with me through the pages of the recently published and ever-so-lovingly-and-nerdily-received John C. Campbell Folk School course catalog 2011. 

Most classes run a full week, and each class day begins with a morning walk followed by morning song. Communal breakfast is followed by three hours of class, then lunch, then three more hours of class, then tours and demonstrations and studio visits. After "supper" (I love it) the students while away the hours listening to folk music, learning square dance, watching craft demonstrations.

I don't know what I'd do if someone set me loose in this place. My main interests lie in the blacksmithing, dyeing, appalachian folklore, music, needlework and thread art, storytelling, spinning, and weaving classes. Here are some samples of the classes offered, from each of these categories:

1. Beyond hooks and pokers (blacksmithing)
2. Natural colors from lichens (dyeing)
3. Serendipitous wicker (I like this one purely for its title - dyeing)
4. Build a 5-string, open back banjo (music)
5. Beginning mountain dulcimer (music)
6. Filet crochet - Introduction & Adventure (I like the sound of adventurous crochet - Needlework and thread art)
7. Musical storytelling 
8. From sheep comes yarn (spinning)
9. Shifu-paper weaving 
10. Rigid-Heddle weaving: Basics & Beyond

I would like someone to drive me to this school, drop me off, and return one year later to get me. I say this with not the least bit of sarcasm in my voice. Why didn't I know this about myself when I was younger? Why did these desires manifest themselves precisely at a stage in my life when I have the least amount of time?

But who are we kidding. Time isn't the only issue when it comes to the extra-curricular desires of a wife & mother, or a husband & father, for that matter. I don't think FAFSA* has a form for folk school. And even though the school's catch line is ""We're two hours from just about anywhere!" I looked them up on mapquest. Average driving time from Chicago to Brasstown North Carolina is 11 hours and 2 minutes.

*Chris needed clarification on FAFSA. It stands for Free Application for Federal Student Aid.

The wall

Ok, not this wall. But it's hard to take a picture of a proverbial wall.

8 short days after embarking on a year full of goals to meet, I feel like I'm up against the wall. I make it a point to draft goals/resolutions that are easy, that guarantee me some sense of accomplishment from year to year. But I'm having the darndest time accomplishing what I've set my mind to.

I anxiously awaited the first day of Winter Marathon training, slated to start this chilly morning at 8:00 am. Only problem was that it was too chilly, below zero windchill, actually, so it was canceled. A no go.

After being briefly enrolled in a serger class at Evanston's Vogue Fabrics I received a phone call telling me that it was in fact full and I would be refunded and put on a waiting list--#4 on the list, to be exact--which meant no go #2. In a fit of frustration I pulled out the wooly nylon and thread the hell out of that little machine, and somehow I think I managed to get past a problem I was having with it coming un-thread during sewing. Go figure. So, two steps forward, three steps back, one and a half steps forward again?

I finally peered between the covers of a book I recently purchased, one that purports to lead me through the necessary steps in writing a business plan, which I plan to spend a better part of this school year doing. I've come to realize, however, that I need a pre-writing book. Chapter three of my current book discusses the importance of market research but I haven't a clue where to start. Another wall (albeit one that I can easily bust through).

It's only been 8 days, you say. I need to relax, you say. What I haven't mentioned is that I have run out of time and go back to work on Monday, after 5 weeks off. I am lucky to have a good paying job that gives me 4 months off a year. I am fortunate to work with wonderful people. But I can't help but want to put my head in the toilet at the beginning of every new semester. The thought of returning to work makes me a little queasy. It also means I will have to start showering regularly again, and change out of this shirt that I have worn non-stop (with the exception of the two hours it took me to wash and dry it mid week) for the last 8 days.

So to make myself feel better I have jumped into the whole "I will not buy clothes for my kids this year" goal, not completely to their delight. On my way into a department store to buy much needed mittens I suddenly remembered my goal. I figured mittens were included in the deal, so I made a U-turn, walked right out and drove home to go through my stash. I didn't have enough fleece to match the cuffs to the hands, but the girls are going to hate them no matter what, so what does it really matter?

To add to the mittens, I have also recently completed a raglan sleeve sweater for Mae in a pinkish purplish wool/acrylic blend. It is full with a gathered waist and a wide boat neck. She hates it. I will make her wear it.





For Mae - a brown pinwale corduroy dress with miniature blue polka dots.  

 I also was determined to slip a little denim into the girls' wardrobe, and so made a dress for Bela and a skirt for Mae with some cute vintage-y lace trim purchased in New York at Mood Fabrics.

 Next up on the list, socks?

I have something in the early stages for Chris too. By early I mean I have the pattern picked out, ordered the yarn (but it was too girly) and am now awaiting a second order of yarn.

Chris has been busy making things too.  Did you know that he really likes fish?