Life Goes On

I know I talk about it a lot. More in these journalistic posts than in real life. Violet. I can't help it. I know about choosing joy when I am given the choice, and I know about seeing God in all that is around me. But I have to say: there are times when a beautiful sunset cannot touch your hurting. I don't think God intends it to. We aren't supposed to be fully satisfied on earth, because it cannot be all-satisfying.

Today would have been her birth day, had she not been miscarried. Last night, I felt sad that I didn't give birth to her alive, and Don reminded me, "You did give birth to her, MB, and she was born straight into the kingdom of God." 

And she was! That is something that has gotten me though this day. That and being with family and friends and my sweet boys. And grace. Lots of grace.

Just So I Remember: 17 Months Old

 He loves to wear his lion hat.

 He makes everyone laugh. He has great comedic timing.

 He freely gives hugs and kisses.

 His eyes are full of joy.

 He doesn't understand that he is the baby in the mirror.

 He leaves a trail of toys and mess wherever he goes. He is in love with this stuffed animal, which he affectionally calls "Dog."

 He is fascinated by all things that have wheels.

 It breaks his heart when I won't let him play in the kitchen while I cook. It breaks mine, too.

 He loves warm cookies from the oven. He squats down on the kitchen floor to gobble them up.

 His feet are big and chubby. They are the cutest things I have ever seen.

 He is a horrifically messy eater. I clean peanut butter from the inside of his ears and his curls on a daily basis. 

 He wants to eat a huge breakfast, including an entire scrambled egg with pesto, every morning right at 6. I am not a morning person and when I am most sluggish, he is at his energetic peak.

He is obsessed with cars and says, "Vroom! Vroooooom!" all day long.

Tiny Clay Letters: Let Your Light Shine

I'm redecorating William's room, from paint to tiny details. I worked on a small wall hanging for the area where we sit and read together. I haven't hung it yet, but you get the idea. I'm going to make some of these small letters to use as tiny Christmas garlands, but the possibilities are endless. You could make birthday banners for the birthday person's breakfast chair, initial gift tags, and on and on.

Start with oven bake sculpting clay and acrylic paints. I also added glitter and used satin varnish to prevent glitter shards from falling off and getting stuck to everything. These things all came from Michael's or Hobby Lobby and were cheap.

First, I pinched off a small piece of clay and rolled it into a ball. Then I used my index finger to flatten it into a disc. I used tiny alphabet stamps to imprint the message, "Let your light shine." I used a chopstick to pierce a hole on each side of the letters because I knew I would be hanging this banner style.

 I followed the clay baking directions found on the box (275 degrees for about 15 minutes). Once the clay cooled, I painted some of the letters with acrylic paints and left the other half unpainted. I sprinkled tinsel glitter on each letter and then sealed with varnish.

So easy and cute! I'm planning on making a plain unglazed Christmas garland and stringing it with red velvet ribbon. 

Five Minutes of Writing about Right Now

I am linking up to Gypsy Mama's Five Minute Friday.

My duffel bag sits, opened, contents spilling onto the floor, in the dining room. Cold pumpkin-flavored soba noodles are stuck to the floor around my feet, remnants from William's dinner. He is in bed, snuggled up warm and cozy in his footed pajamas, rocked to sleep by his daddy's strong arms. We have just come home from a night away, and the kitchen I cleaned before we left is messy once again. Laundry to be washed, dishes to scrub, acorn squash already roasting in the oven. I sit for a few moments and take it all in. The still of our house. The quiet of the kitchen, only the sound of the gas hissing slightly in the oven. The brown sugar and butter squash aroma filling the air. The ordinary beauty of it overwhelms me. Here it is, this is ours. This is our home, this is our quiet. Our space that we have adorned with love. There has been hurting, for sure. Two lost little babies, my babies, my own, gone and gone. Babies that I don't know, don't hold, save for in the startling vividness of my nighttime dreaming. I have seen them only then. Longing, and joy, and sorrow. Happiness and fussiness and monkey socks and freshly baked bread and cookies in the oven. Bible verses about loss and grace and hope being repeated over and over again, never losing their relevance or their comfort. The kitchen timer beeps and I pull dinner from the oven.

When Creativity Strikes

After the boys are in bed, I go to work making things. I'm not picky about what I make. I just need to use a sewing machine, a glue gun, spray paint, whatever. I have to make something out of nothing, or turn something from blah into better. Our entry was the object of my attention from 10 pm until 2 am, mixed in with a little online reading, cleaning, and searching my massive craft supply closet for gold paint.

My favorite time to sew is at night, when everyone is in bed. No distractions!

Draped some faux bittersweet vines over the entry mirror. Glued some pale turquoise beads to our buffet lamp shades.

Worked on this big hunk of papered love sign. I'm not sure if I love it or hate it yet.

I spray painted a cheap white wooden tray from Target with black chalkboard paint. Apparently this sucker would cost $99 from Pottery Barn, or you could make it yourself for $15.

I am in love with this fabric. It makes me think of the story about the Twelve Dancing Princesses and their beautiful dancing shoes. At night, the colors come alive. Seen above, the colors are much flatter in daylight.

I finally found a place to display this precious photo of my mom when she was a baby.

Excuse the orange glow. Taking pictures at night still escapes me. I am whole-heartedly embracing my faux vines. I used to hate any type of fake flower, but I am decorating for myself and my family, not for the editors of House Beautiful.

Our house was always beautifully decorated for the holidays, but I never remember seeing my mom putting the decorations up. Maybe she stayed up late making things special, too. For me, part of motherhood is taking the time to make things special every once in a while.

Cheap Thrills: Make-up, Best Fall Breakfast, and Flying Pigs

Sometimes I buy something and I think it works so wonderfully well that I need to tell you about it.

Like this.

It's part of my personal routine to always, always, always do my hair and make-up, come hell or high water. I was raised by a southern woman, and this is how we roll. This Clinique lid smoothie goes on a little shiny, but your eye shadow can either tone that down or play it up. My eye make-up stays on from 6 am until 9 pm, really and truly. This is hands down the best eye primer I have ever used, and a little goes a long way.

Cheap thrill number 2: quick cooking five grains. This is a cheap thrill if you like eating whole grains for breakfast. I love these things! Italian farro, barley, brown rice, kamut wheat, and oats. These are nutty and chewy, and I sprinkle them with cinnamon, a tiny bit of sugar and salt, a splash of half and half, slivered almonds, and dried cranberries, and it makes a warm steamy breakfast bowl fit for a Charles Dickens novel. Seriously. William eats it up. I think this comes out to less than 50 cents per bowlful.

Finally, last night I went to Hobby Lobby to buy some gold craft paint, and I ended up coming home with these guys.

I am a little bit scared of the pigs in the middle.

They're Christmas ornaments and were half off. These little guys were less than $2 each, and I grabbed them! I can't really see them gracing our Christmas tree, but I've wanted to make tiny flying pigs to hang in William's room forever. Is it just me or does the pig on the far left look like he's pleading with me to save him from the three creepy pigs in the middle?

Have you found anything cheap and wonderful lately?

I Carry Your Heart

In the flow of my daily life (stumble to nursery, pick up crying child, return to bed for 15 minutes of trying to doze while laughing child pokes my eyes and sticks small fingers in my mouth and ears, etc.), a new five-second ritual is added. My iPhone alarm sounds at 8 am and I stop, swallow the tiny yellow pill above, chase it with water, and continue on my way. I will do this every day for the rest of my life.

This pill is the simplest solution to my biggest problem. I got a call last week following the round of blood tests I had after I miscarried for the second time in five months. My blood carries an antigen that causes, more often than not, miscarriages. If you have three miscarriages, you are diagnosed as having the syndrome. I have had two, so I am not technically diagnosed. I hope I never get the official diagnosis. 

What about William? I asked the nurse. How was I able to carry him full-term with no complications? A fluke, she answers. But I know better. 

The next time I am pregnant, I will give myself a shot three times a day, every day, until I give birth. The research that has been done says this will give me an 80% chance of having a successful pregnancy. I am trying not to dwell on the other 20%. My God is bigger than statistics. I beat the odds once before.

I look at these little pills, so tiny, the raised outline of a heart on one side of each pill. I swallow a little heart every day. These pills thin my blood, help it to pass easily, clot-less, through my arteries to my lungs and eventually my heart. 

I erased Violet's due date from my calendar months ago. I thought maybe I wouldn't remember it without a written reminder. How silly of me. Two weeks away, and I feel myself thinking about it throughout the day. These little yellow heart pills, they are a reminder.

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

-EE Cummings, "I Carry Your Heart With Me"