A Secret Crush…and I need help!

…I can’t deny it any longer. I adore vintage textiles.

I love the worn softness,

uniqueness,

the sense of history.

I especially love finding hand-embellished ones. It reminds me that our generation — especially us young moms, largely on our own and away from our families — are another link in the chain of women and mothers who have lived, created, and driven the world.

And will continue to do so.

We’re part of a long history of women who have faced up to hard times and determined not only to survive, but to thrive. To take the simple and ordinary and make it beautiful, using only our creativity and the resources at hand.

Amazing what thoughts a simple thrift-store treasure hunt can bring to mind, isn’t it? 

I’m planning on using the chenille bedspread for my daughter’s “big girl bed” that we’ll be setting up this weekend.

The tablecloth, I’m not sure about yet…it’s in lovely condition so I might use it as is…or perhaps it will become a sundress for my daughter this summer. Time will tell.

Oh, and I have a question for you — what should I do with this jug? It’s been sitting in my kitchen since our hot apple cider at Christmas, and I need to repurpose it…but as what?

Family Fun Night (or, the power of a name)

If you ask my six or four year old what Friday means, they’ll start bouncing and tell you it’s “FAMILY FUN NIGHT!!”

Their level of enthusiasm would lead you to think something great, huge, and exciting is happening. Clowns? A parade? New toys? Unlimited chocolate? No…none of that. Nothing huge at all.

It’s a tradition we started about six months ago, rather spontaneously. The kids were bored, I was on edge after a week of my husband working overtime. As I was bombarded with another round of “What can we DOOOO? I’m boooooored”, I was struck with random mombrilliance.

“How about we have a family fun night?” I suggested, patting myself on the back. The kids latched onto the idea with vigor. We quickly made a plan — pizza picnic, and a family movie — and that was it. A few days later Joey asked me when Family Fun Night would come again…and we’ve been celebrating them on every Friday since.

It’s one night out of seven when bedtime isn’t strictly observed. When the dishes are rinsed and left to be dealt with the next day. When Mom and Dad can put aside the Enforcer hats (at least for a few minutes) and we all revel in the glory of a night off. When we can all let our hair down, let the laughter loose, and just relax.

I stand corrected.

Something huge IS happening. We gave it a name, we made it habit, and it’s one of the little threads that weaves us all together. It makes family the important thing, the highlight of the week, the thing to look forward to — and that’s huge. Enormous, even.

Happy weekend!

Really Look

When I preparing for the birth of my first child, I remember reading about having a “Focal Point” — the suggestion was to bring a picture or vase of flowers, something inspirational to focus on as a pain-coping technique.

I’m sure it would have worked wonderfully if my eyes were open. As it was, it turned out I coped best by ignoring everyone and everything in the room.

I have, however, found that having a focal point is a wonderful coping technique for THOSE days…you know, the days when it’s 9:30am and you’ve already had two toddlers in a half-hour meltdown each, couldn’t find your keys, had to scrounge up a lunch for your school-age child because you don’t want to take aforementioned toddlers grocery shopping, and subsequently skipped your own breakfast. You then caved to temptation, went through the drivethru for coffee and a muffin, and had one of the toddlers start puking while you ordered.

Yeah, THOSE days.

The days when you wonder how on earth mothers have survived for so many years. How your own mother survived. And why aren’t we paid more?

What I’m learning is that on days when it’s all falling apart around me, and it seems chaos might just win for the day — it helps to have a focal point. Something beautiful, simple, fresh — something that reminds me I am capable. I am skilled. I can and will survive this.

Sometimes it’s a recently completed knitting project. Other times, a really great picture one of my kids drew. Or, it can be as simple as this — freshly baked bread on an old vintage plate, the softly golden crust of the bread set off by the old blue-and-white of the plate. The textured crust against the smooth, aged finish.

Inspiring, in a very simple and tangible way…nice, isn’t it? Enjoy. I’m going to go clean puke off the carseat. And maybe ask for a raise.

Editing to add the link for Amish White Bread — it’s a moist, sweet bread. I made one loaf and did an 8×8 pan of rolls instead of a second loaf. Kids loved it.