My Longest Year

all set

Birthday flags and linens are finished:

 

 

Party dress is embroidered:

Shoes are made (yes, I made these, using this awesome tutorial and pattern enlarged to 110%):
 

Hostess gift is sewn (Gameday Apron for my UT Tennessee friend - stitched in an hour):

I can name five things from my To Craft list for this trip that just didn't get made but one can only do so much, right?

I plan to blog while in Nashville, but if I don't get a connection, I'll see you on the other side of Thanksgiving!

Best,
Crystal

my proud little homeowner

 

A couple of weeks ago, Evyn was flipping through her National Geographic for Kids magazine and came upon a "gingerbread" house she just had to make.  Fond of the magazine-inspired creative process myself, I was anxious to help her vision come true.  The magazine featured fancy gumdrops and smarties and pretty coconut flakes, and as I wandered the baking aisle I realized this fun little project was going to get expensive.  So we improvised.  The marshmallows were 98 cents, and I needed to buy frosting for Ashlyn's cake anyway.

Basically, I scoured the pantry for stuff we already had and set it out for her to go to town with.  Her favorite-est were these duck and rabbit sprinkles from an easter package we still had.  I mean, surely this isn't the first time you've seen rabbits on a roof, right?

I was the messy contractor who slapped the walls and roof together rather precariously with joints of globby icing.  The prettiest parts of this house are all Evyn's handiwork. 

Links of Interest: Easy Alternatives to Gingerbread Houses;  Gingerbread House Lesson Plan (Gr. 3-5)

 

my baby turned one

Here she is.  My one-year-old, as of yesterday.  Where did the time go? I understand how it happens - how people have baby after baby.  Who would want the baby-ness to end?  The squishy cheeks and pudge-feet and squealy delight and mischeviousness.  I certainly don't.  I can understand how "the baby" of the family is treated like the Forever-Baby, innocent and younger than the rest, somehow less culpable and more innocent no matter what the age. 

I find myself much more relaxed with Ashlyn, not wanting her to learn too fast, to grow up too soon, to ever get older.  People ask me if she's walking yet.  "No!" I exclaim, almost horrified, shivering at the thought that my bitty baby, who stomps as she crawls (its the cutest to watch her head bob side to side with every step) is someday soon going to get around on two feet, become a toddler. 

She is getting more adorable by the minute.  She has such a different personality than Evyn, though they're both the most lovely kids and mom could ever parent.  Ashlyn is less verbal, more physical.  She likes to cuddle, and head-butt, and be tickled.  If she knows you and likes you, she'll give you a squishy face.  When she's proud of herself, she'll clap, and wait for you to return the congratulations.

She doesn't give too much of herself away in public, frustrating passersby who want her to babble or smile or somehow perform.  She is intently curious and reserved in every situation with strangers, and she saves the best of herself and her personality for her family and home.  And she is most happy there, at home, safe with the people and things she knows best.  We frequently find her splayed out on the floor, kicking her feet in contentment.

We'll have to baby-proof more diligently with Ashlyn than we did with Evyn.

Evyn caught on to rules and no-nos very quickly.  I only had to make a buzzer noise one time and she'd walk away.  That just eggs Ashlyn on, who has a knack for finding the most dangerous or most expensive items in the house to play with.  See this pointy, sharp, heavy thing?  Evyn would instinctively know to avoid it.  It's Ashlyn's favorite thing to mess with (I've moved it).

Of course, as I type this, Ashlyn is chewing on the cord to my laptop.  Wait, she's moved on to chewing Evyn's toes.  You might think that's gross.  I think it's  hilarious.  She adores Evyn, and it's only more obvious the more she messes with her.

We celebrated the day rather simply.  Evyn and Daddy baked a cake for her.

And while we had to coax and prod Evyn into touching her very first cake, Ashlyn had no problem digging in.

She is.  My Doll-Baby.  Happy Birthday, Squishy Sweetness. 

 

he was a soldier once

Did I ever tell you James joined the Guard after he got out of the Army?  Well, he did.  The details would bore you but he will not deploy overseas within the first two years of his commitment, and he won't likely stay in the Guard longer than a year or two.

Last week he went out of town on an MI training.  He was to wear his ACUs every day again and needed to finally put on all his badges, while at the same time updating the badges for his dress blues.  Those badges are a bit shiny - doesn't this one look like a McDonald's toy?

I'd never seen this badge before.  It's a combat badge.  Turns out James was shot at by snipers who weren't that good at sniping.  I was a little surprised, and I guess in the grand scheme of things over there I shouldn't have been.  James wasn't infantry, but his team was kind of left to fend for themselves out there quite a bit.  I knew there had been lots of "incidents" - involving bombs and snipers and fire support (or whatever its called when bradleys suddenly show up to level a building for you).  But James was so exhausted from it all by the end that he never got around to telling me everything.  And I guess none of it seemed extraordinary or newsworthy at the time; after all, this is just how it was over there.

But watching him pack up his ACUs for the trip, reflecting on the seven years we spent as a military family in the Bush administration, and reading through the archives here, it dawns on me how extraordinary our life really was.  And we miss it sometimes.   

Evyn barely remembers.  And Ashlyn will never really appreciate it.  That their father was a soldier once.

When James returned I asked him what it was like to wear his ACUs everyday again.  It was just a week of training in the Guard, but he said he felt important--a sense of pride--because the uniform stood for something.  I understood.  He's still finding his way, his sense of purpose, as a civilian.  We both are, a little.  Our life is exactly what we wanted for our kids - ordinary and calm.  With room to breathe.   No more last-minute orders and upheavals and good-byes. 

It was difficult, and we wouldn't go back to it, but we can't help but look back sometimes.  It was, after all, an honor.

And for those still serving - take a moment to pray for their peace and strength and safety.

Some military blogs: Christine (whose hubby just returned home after 15 months - go congratulate them!!!); Lucy (whose husband is Nat'l Guard and deployed again); Mary (OIF widow)

birthday linens

So, someone is turning one year old soon.  I know - EEK!  Per tradition, we will be going to Nashville just before Thanksgiving to celebrate with friends and family.  Which means I need to whip up a set of birthday linens.  These are the fabrics I've chosen for her (including a bit of green you can barely see squished in the middle of the stack there). 

I love these colors--especially the brown with tiny dots.  I hope I still love them several years from now as they'll be Ashlyn's birthday decorations for the next few years. 

When Evyn turned one I was a mess.  James was set to deploy just a few days after her party and I was nervous and anxious and it seemed like everything had to be just perfect.  Just in case.  Just in case it was the only birthday he ever celebrated with her.  It seems terrible to even see that written, but that one, horrible thought was always there, underscoring the way we spent our time together all those days leading up to his final departure.  Our future was completely out of my control.  So, per usual, I hyper-focused on the things that were in my control, which meant balloons and fresh flowers and fabric.

It seemed a little over-the-top at the time to dress all the tables and doorways in fabric - the party store would have been just fine, I guess.  But since then we've reused these fabrics several times.

By next year, I'm sure Evyn will want a specific theme - something horrifying like Barbie or Hannah Montana or Cinderella blech.  But it's been fun bringing out these fabrics every year, and we've quite unexpectedly created a little personalized tradition - each will have her own set of birthday linens.

We've also bought personalized vinyl banners to bring out every year.  One suggestion I read in the review section of the online store I originally bought this from was to trace the birthday girl's hand on the banner every year for posterity.  So that's now become our tradition at the end of the evening.  The banners are a little generic, but they were inexpensive - around $20.

 

When I've finished sewing up the decorations, I'll post a little tutorial.  You'd be surprised how easy it all is - and there are no-sew options as well for those of you without sewing machines.

a most gracious loser and a win for equality

I can't stand to lose at board games.  In fact, I'll usually quit before I do.  Ask my husband.  As soon as things start going south in Monopoly or Hearts or Gin (even Yahtzee), I start to twitch and whine and negotiate.  If he doesn't give me wiggle room score-wise, I give up altogether and concede without finishing out the game.  I am the ultimate Sore Loser.

Which is why I was brought to tears last night watching John McCain's most gracious and endearing concession speech.   I could take a page from his book the next time I lose Yahtzee.

First he congratulated Obama with genuine admiration: "...his success alone commands my respect for his ability and perseverance. But that he managed to do so by inspiring the hopes of so many millions of Americans who had once wrongly believed that they had little at stake or little influence in the election of an American president is something I deeply admire and commend him for achieving."

Then he asked us to unite with his former opponent: "I urge all Americans who supported me to join me in not just congratulating him, but offering our next president our good will and earnest effort to find ways to come together..."

He took accountability: "And though we fell short, the failure is mine, not yours."

He went on to call the campaign "the great honor of [his] life" and wished Godspeed to Obama while respectfully and dutifully calling him "my president."

I even caught a glimpse of the POW War Hero as he declared that we "Americans never quit.  We never surrender." I almost wanted to salute him right there from my couch .

I am a proud Republican (yes, I said it.  Out loud.  On my blog.  Call the blog-police).  But I am an even prouder American.  And while I wish we would have gotten to see that great man and hero as our next president, I am equally proud of the history we have made in electing Obama.  I was filled with emotion last night as I realized what a giant step this is for African-Americans.  How this is their moment.  A moment some thought would never--could never-- happen in their lifetime. 

Today as I pulled up to Evyn's preschool, one of her teachers, African-American, was chatting excitedly on the phone.  "I'll have to call you back in a bit.  After class I'm going to pick up the New York Times."  She was beaming.  I just had to say something (you know me).  "Mrs. C, I just wanted to say congratulations.  You must be so excited about the history that's been made.  I'm really happy for you."  She took my congrats with a big grin and "thank you" and told me I was the first person to say that to her.  She said she had been up all night, she was so excited.  I could actually feel her excitement.

Later I took the girls to the post office and Evyn started chatting up the lady in line behind us, who was gracious enough to entertain Evyn's conversation.  She happened to be African American.  Evyn expressed her utmost desire to be Cinderella.  To which the woman replied with smiling eyes and in a most sincere and deliberate tone, "You can be anything you want to be."

Cinderella herself would agree:

Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling thru
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
the dream that you wish will come true

Thanks to the barriers that were broken last night, I can believe that it's possible my girls may someday soon have their own role model in the White House.  And that they really can be anything they want to be.  Even the President.

Links of Interest: Slate:  Class Act - McCain's Respectful Concession Speech; The Root - What Obama Means for America;  John McCain's concession speech;  Barack Obama's victory speech 

 

halloween, part 2

I bet you think that as a crafty, creative person, and amateur sew-er, I have a hayday with Halloween.  I don't. Maybe it's because I'm usually busy planning for other things...Evyn's birthday, now Ashlyn's birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  Halloween just gets totally squeezed out.  I'm sure as the girls get older, their enthusiasm will motivate me to do a little more with it, but for now I could skip it altogether.

My mom, on the other hand, made it an annual tradition to sew all of our costumes.  All of them.  She recently sent them back to me to rummage through and store, and just last week she sent a small scrapbook of them:

Most years, Lora and I were dressed alike.   I'm not sure how our costumes were decided, or how we came to agree on a costume.  If I had to guess, in those early years Lora just did whatever I wanted.

We were flowers, and pilgrims, and cheerleaders.  This is as close to pop-culture as we got: remember the California Raisin commercials?  Here's Lora (and ((shiver)) our brown couch):

 
That was one of her most memorable costumes.  And pretty elaborate, too - my mom had to create all those raisin-y wrinkles and gathers by hand.

Here's me in my first costume as a baby clown:

Ashlyn wasn't as thrilled about the costume:

It was missing that adorable clown-collar, and it was a little snug.  But we made it work.

I tried and tried to get a cutie-smiley picture of her.  She was mostly just annoyed with me.

To the extent that she eventually climbed down and charged at me in all seriousness.  I could almost hear her grumbling under her breath.

This ended in a sort of camera tug of war between Ashlyn and I.  Ashlyn won.  Must learn to practice photography skills on still life.

Later in the evening she helped me answer the door in this little costume.  She was in a better mood after her nap.

Evyn was a very reluctant Belle.

She loved the costume (actually, a play dress already in her closet).  And she literally watched the clock for half an hour waiting for Trick or Treat time with Daddy.  But after two houses she got stage fright and told James she didn't want to go to all the houses anymore.  My neighbor (who was traveling along with them) tried to coax her and apparently Evyn was insistent that she didn't have to do anything she didn't feel comfortable doing.  You gotta love a kid with boundaries.

My mom's little scrapbook reminded me that I want to be better about handing down stories to my children.  I stumbled across this FREE online workshop by Jessica Sprague that I wanted to point out to you.  Although she's hostess to a digital scrapbooking site, Jessica designed this workshop for everyone and anyone, scrapbooker or not.  Her backstory on this workshop will ring true with many of you. 

halloween, part 1

 

The night before Halloween we had a sort of Family Night.  James brought home the fixings to make a halloween treat that was way too sweet, but fun to make anyway.

  

Do these look like ghosts to you?  Evyn did the chocolate-chip-adorning, so some of them came out looking like ghosts and some wound up looking like...well, not ghosts.
 

 

After Ashlyn went to bed we snuggled up on the couch to watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!  I love that we all spent time as a family doing something together. These are words that Evyn has been using and emphasizing over and over in conversation lately - "family," "spend time," "together."  Either she knows how important it is to me, or it's equally important to her.  I've long sensed that one of her love languages is quality time.  She seems to revel in all those moments we have together - at the dinner table, or on a shopping trip, or even just tumbling around in her room.  She reflects out loud, telling us she loves her family, giving us extra hugs and smiles, nodding and approving that we're there - with her.  There's something about time as a family - or even one-on-one, hat reminds us we're not alone in this world, and, likewise, that the world doesn't revolve around any one of us.  We belong to and take care of each other. 

I don't take it for granted that we are together as a family now, a whole unit made up of so very different parts.  There was a time I wondered (worried, really) how it all would go.  But now we're here.  Together. I love that Evyn doesn't take it for granted, either.  And I sense even Ashlyn appreciates the relative security of being one of us.