The Results of the Pinkalicious Swap

For my blog swap partner I was assigned Lulu in Los Angeles.  She has a really fun blog and way more decorating sense than I could ever have.  For real.  I've had a lot of fun getting to know her through her blog and email. 

She sent me my package and when I opened it up I couldn't believe all the cute and fabulous pink wrapping.  Have I ever mentioned that I am the world's worst wrapper?  Seriously sorry wrapper here.  The package I sent her?  Like crumpled up pink tissue paper (which I hopefully made up for by sending her stuff she'll love).  Bottom line?  I cannot wrap.  But Lulu can!  She did a beautiful job of it:

So here are all the goodies she sent:

a very cute card with a bonus cookie recipe on it.

knee high pink and gray socks.

a piggy kitchen timer (my favorite thing - and Pierce's too!)

a pink mini bread loaf pan

a mini day planner

a pink notepad and pen

pink and white socks

pink thank you notes (can always use more thank yous!)

pink dish towels 

Isn't it awesome?  Thanks Lulu, for all of the wonderful stuff!  Love it!  :-)

If you want to participate in a blog swap, you should be following Our Dandelion Wishes, because she hosts them frequently and they always have some fun theme.

Boy Approved Valentine's Crafts - Beanie Bag Toss Game

I have 3 boys so when it comes to events like Valentine's, I have to get creative.  For example, I don't think they'd be all into making glitter crowns.  Or maybe they would.  I didn't ask. 

Either way, I know what my boys like is action.  So we decided to make a bean bag toss.

First, we found some material scraps.  One of these is actually an old scarf that we repurposed.

Pierce helped me trace out heart shapes on the material using a cookie cutter.

Then I cut out the hearts.

You could make this project simplified by just doing standard square bean bags. 

Or you could make it more intensive by adding embellishments to the bags or allowing your child to paint them with fabric paints.

We used one bag of black eyed peas to stuff our hearts.

Pierce was able to really help with the stuffing part. 

I then used a bulk Ramen box.

I cut out a large circle, then cut off about 2 inches of cardboard around the bottom edge so that it would sit at a slight angle, making it easier to toss in the beanies. 

Pierce is very handy with a glue stick, so he helped a great deal in creating our Valentine's creature. 

Final product with beanies: 

Not only did Pierce love playing this, but the twins had a blast tossing beanies too.

Turns out it's great for their coordination, and the boys were all laughing a lot over their wild tosses. 

Making this craft is a little time consuming, so you may want to break it into 2 days.

I'm linking this up with JDaniel4sMom, who is having a fun Valentine's Party.  In celebration, I'll be linking several other Valentine's themed posts to her this week, so stay tuned.  You can also go check out JDaniel4sMom for more great ideas:

I Hate My IT Band - Fitness Recap January

January was not a good month for me.  That's part of the reason this post is so late - I haven't wanted to think about it.  And it's not just because of winter and cold and all that.  No, I've been injured.  And this is making me very cranky.  When I can't run, I can't very easily deflect life's bumps and glitches.  Things get to me more.  I feel uneasy.  Restless.  Running is my crutch for life.  It helps me get through my days, and it brings me happiness. 

Alas, I'm suffering from IT band syndrome.  It's an overuse injury, and one I've dealt with before.  The IT band (iliotibial band) is the muscle that runs along the outside of the thigh.  Usually, I can keep it at bay by using a foam roller.  Not this time.  I even went to see a special (and expensive) neuromuscular therapeutic masseuse, and he worked on it intensively.  It didn't seem to make a difference, and at any rate, I can't afford to see hiim regularly.  I guess it will heal when it decides to heal. Grrr.  I'd stab it with a fork if I thought it would help.

In the meantime, here's what I did in the month of January:
Running - 42 miles (all in the first 2 weeks - I haven't been able to run in the last 2 weeks or so)
Marta Montenegro Method DVDs (both strength and endurance) - x 6
Shred - x 2
Weightlifting (15 pound free weights) - x 7
Tae Bo - x 1
Core/Ab workout - x 8
Yoga - x 2

I'm not too sure what's on tap for February.  Part of me is wondering if some of the workout dvds (which do involve a lot of squats and lunges) are preventing my IT band from healing more quickly.  Maybe it's time for me to do....nothing.  Nothing scares me though.  When I do nothing, I fear I feel myself turning into a big slothlike blimp.  Plus, I know how hard it is to comeback the longer you remain inactive. 

Hopefully my leg will heal up before the weather gets nicer, and I won't lose too much fitness in the interim.  I'm really hoping to hit some 5Ks in March and April and build up a little speed.  Wish me luck with quick healing!

Hiding in the Hay Fort, Memory Lane Friday

Memory Lane Friday is a weekly blog hop.  You can blog about your memories and link up, and everyone is welcome.  I like to blog about my memories every week to preserve them for my family.  I hope you'll join me.  This week's theme is "A Hiding Place".

Being a teenager is hard.  You're torn between wanting your independence yet still needing structure and guidance from your family.  Friends can be brutal, or they can be endearing and supportive.  It all depends on....hormones.  And every year subjects in school build upon themselves, growing harder and leaving kids with more pressure of performance and...oh yeah...college.  So this is kind of where I was when I hit 13, but I held the secrets of one little hiding spot in my heart.  There were only five other people who knew about this little hole in the hay.

Of course my hiding spot was at the barn, Cedar Ridge, which I have blogged about on several other occassions.  A large red riding facility, it housed my horse, and me - most of the time.  Whenever I was free, at least.  My friends and I spent every waking moment there during the summers.  And one summer in the back corner of the barn, just behind the arena, we discovered a fort in the hay.  The hay reached at least 20 feet high in stacked square bales of timothy.  It was as wide as it was tall, so this is one massive hay structure.  Hidden up against the wall was a passage.  If you moved a special bale of hay, you could enter the cubby, climb the hay stairs, and ease up into the top level of hay, surrounded by hay walls.  A room of dried grass. 

It was a world away from the pressures of home and school.  A safe world, for six girls who were looking to escape.  To retreat on summer days in hot swelting hay nirvana, to share stories of horses and horse shows and dogs and Pony Club and then more horses.  Whatever came to mind.  Secrets and friendships all in this magical hay land.  I loved it there. 

As it turned out, we weren't the only ones using the secret hay room.  When it was discovered, and it was found that some older teens were smoking in it, the hay fort was demolished.  Terribly dangerous to smoke around hay in a barn, of course (it wasn't me, I swear!).  But I hold fond memories of that hiding place and the conversations and fun held there.



If you'd like to join in on Memory Lane Friday, you can add your website to the link below:


Please stop by and visit other links.  And come back next week, the theme is Valentine's.

From the Therapist's Chair

The following writing is a piece of fiction, lightly inspired by real life experiences in my time working juvenile probation, and in response to this week's Red Dress Club prompt (link up is on Friday):  The premise of the contest is to write a piece of flash fiction - it should be no more than 600 words and should take no longer than 3 minutes to read aloud.
And the requirement for this particular one is a character MUST tell a joke and a character MUST cry. One character can do both.
Critique on this piece is welcomed and encouraged.
 
Some people are gifted musically.  Others mathematically.  Jo?  She excelled kinesthetically.  She could watch the movements of others, listen to the flow of their words, and read between the lines.  It's what made her so good at her job.  Kids would come in and sit in the big brown chair (they always chose the brown chair - never the red), and slump down, staring at the patterns in the rug.
"Nothing's going on.  School's fine.  Life is boring," they'd reassure.  But Jo would feel the unspoken words tumbling through the air.  She'd watch their deceptive eyes and lack of hand gestures and she'd feel the real story absorbing into her skin, inhaling it into her head.
"Dad beat me last night."
"I'm pregnant."
"My parents are getting divorced."
Simple sentences, heard intuitively.  And Jo, never letting on that she knew what lay beneath the surface, would gently prod, "You seem down today.  What's really on your mind?"  Some of the teens took longer than others, but eventually they learned to confide in her, to think of Jo as a safe refuge from the chaos in their lives.
 
On this particular morning Jo had already been refuge to two teens, and she refilled her coffee mug and scarfed a granola bar to refuel for her 11:00 appointment.  She would need the energy for her toughest case, she thought, her hand lightly resting over the manila folder.  Tracy was 13 years old, sullen, distrustful, and suffering from one of the worst cases of borderline personality disorder Jo had seen in her ten years of practice.  Borderlines were known for their manipulation tactics, unstable moods, and distortions of thoughts and self.  So far Jo had been unable to reach through Tracy's walls to connect with her on a deeper level.
 
Sighing and taking a last swig of coffee, Jo rose and walked across the rug, opening the door to the waiting area.
 
"Tracy, come on in," Jo paused as she watched Tracy rise with heaviness, trudging her way into the office in wide-legged black pants, long silver chains hanging and jingling from the pockets.  "How are you today?"
 
"Oh just freaking GREAT, so thrilled to be back with my lousy Brady Bunch therapist," Tracy joked sarcastically, rolling her eyes for good measure.  She tossed her emaciated frame into the brown chair, slumping down as low as possible without tumbling to the floor.
 
Jo eyed the layers of kohl eyeliner, the nose ring, the streaks of pink in the long edgy hair, and she thought for a moment.  They'd been at this for weeks and Tracy had proved completely resistent to Jo's softer efforts.  Yet unbeknownst to Tracy, Jo was receiving more than her sarcastic words; she was feeling the pain hidden behind the hardened goth mask.  Jo decided it was time to switch approaches.  It was time to talk about the elephant in the room.  She took a deep breath and looked at the droplets of blood oozing through Tracy's white ribbed tank top in at least a dozen places. 
 
"Tracy, tell me about the cutting," Jo said gently.  She forced herself to look in Tracy's eyes, which angrily looked away in response, staring at the graduate degree on the wall.
 
"I want to know.  I see you're in pain.  I feel like things are so bad you can't let anyone in."
 
Silence.
 
Jo settled in and waited.  The clock ticked.
 
"I can't stop," Tracy whispered, putting her head in her hands as black tears rolled softly down her cheeks.
 

On a Life Without Pink - No Girls Allowed

I always imagined myself (if I imagined having kids at all, which I didn't typically) with a daughter.  When my grandmother passed on jewelry to me, I couldn't help imagining passing it on to a future little girl.  I devoted many a free moment in my adolescence and early adulthood writing in journals, and always in the back of my mind I knew I'd pass them on to a daughter.

When I became pregnant for the first time, I was just sure it would be a girl.  After all, I was the first born in my family, and the first born in Paul's family had been a girl as well.

When I found out at the 20 week ultrasound that we were pregnant with a boy, I did have a fleeting moment of disappointment, but by 16 weeks I'd actually kind of already realized I was pregnant with a boy (all those eggs I felt compelled to eat - it just had to be a boy!)

And when Pierce was born I just loved having a little boy.  Sure, girl clothes and names are cuter, but I love playing trains and Diego.  And it's not like pink is my favorite color. 

Fast forward a couple of years to my pregnancy with the twins.  Now, surely, I thought one of them would be a girl.  Or maybe both.  After all, the pregnancy from the beginning just seemed so much easier and different than my pregnancy with Pierce had been.  So at a routine 16 week ultrasound to check heartbeats (my doctor did an ultrasound every visit, because he didn't trust the dopplar with twins) I asked Dr. Harding to peek at the sex.  He found the first one no problem.  A boy!  I held out hope as he rotated the dopplar to zoom in on twin B.  Another boy!  Yes, another second or two of disappointment, but overall I was okay.  I had a boy, I loved my boy, I knew boys!  I could handle boys! 

Paul and I aren't planning on having any more children.  As he so eloquently puts it, once you start popping out two babies at once you get done having kids really fast.  And I am so thankful to not have any more pregnancy in my future.  Done with that! 

My three boys are perfect and I adore them.  We zoom cars and run in circles and have dinosaur fights.  I can't imagine my life any other way.  I read this article sent to me by my friend Ginger about these women who went into huge depressions over having had boys, women who actually said they wished they hadn't had them, that they only wanted girls.  When I read it, I felt such tremendous sorrow for those little boys.  To be unwanted over such a selfish, stupid thing.  Can you imagine?

I'm at a point where I feel like our family is complete, just the way it is.  My boys and I have many adventures in front of us...adventures that don't involve much pink.  But hey, maybe I'll get lucky and one of them will take to horses.  If not, I'm okay with that too (just please please please don't like soccer boys - hello, sooooo boring).  Mentally, I have let go of the wispy image of a daughter.  I have waved goodby to the mini-me idea, and I've made my peace with the lack of pink in my house.

Just one thing though.  Do you think its too much to demand my two brothers present me with nieces? 

Flying Squirrels and Come Check Out My New Look!

First off, how do you like the new design?  I worked with Stephanie from Dirt and Lace Designs and she is awesome.  She was really patient with all my totally weird  unusual requests like whether she could use a picture of our log walls for the border.  And she totally made it happen!  Anyhow, she was great to work with, and if you need anything done on your blog go check her out.

In other news, today is Show and Tail Tuesday over at WV Treasures.  Since I haven't participated in a while, I scanned in some pictures of our darling flying squirrel.

Back when we were trailer trash, he lived on the roof of our trailer.  What?  I haven't mentioned the whole trailer thing before?  Yes, when we first bought our land we lived in a single wide until we could afford to build our log home.  A very long six years, you might say. 

So anyhow, this little guy built a nest in the gutters on our roof.

They are nocturnal, so these pictures were taken by Paul late one night.

Isn't he (the squirrel, not Paul, although he too can be cute at times) the cutest?

In this picture, you can see the extra flap of skin on his sides that would spread out so that he could fly. 

Sadly, he disappeared one day.  But I hope that we see these little flying squirrels again on our place in the future.