MommyCoddle

Show & Tell : Lettergirl

I am excited today to share with you a little bit about one of this month's sponsors, Lettergirl. Gina makes lovely hand-lettered stamps to be used in a variety of ways from bookplates to return addresses on envelopes to custom invitations and stationery. 

I asked Gina to share a little bit about herself, her shop and what inspires her :

Tell us a little bit about yourself.

I live in Minneapolis with my husband, Peter and our two kids, Juilet is 11 and Forest is 8. We live in a 105-year old Victorian fixer-upper near the Mississippi River. I love making things--and like many crafty people, that goes back to when I was a child. I have always loved reading and sewing and cooking and trying new things.

How did you get started with Lettergirl?

I have been a designer for 17 years through my business, Dreamland. I started by designing our wedding invitation (18 years ago this week!). A friend came to our wedding and asked me to design their invitation. A friend of hers then asked me to design for her...Within a few years I was designing close to 100 invitation suites in a year -- all hand-lettered and hand-painted. Dreamland evolved through the years to include birth announcements, holiday cards, everyday stationery, and for the last year, my online shop, lettergirl.

How do you balance it all? When do you fit in your creative time?

One of my most favorite things about self-employment is the flexibility I have during the day. I can help at my kids' schools, buy groceries when the store isn't so hectic, or go for a bike ride if I need to get outside. I have to balance that with a few late nights or early mornings, but I am so grateful to even have that option. I have the most energy in the morning, and am still trying to figure out how to work in more personal creative time then. In the meantime, I love keeping an Idea Journal, where I jot down all the things I want to make "someday".

What inspires you?

Other artists absolutely inspire me. I have been obsessed with Alabama Chanin since a trip to NY in spring 2008, and have made almost a dozen clothing items entirely by hand thanks to her. I love quilts by Cher Cartwright and cookbooks by Ina Garten With limited time (two kids! old house! business to run! volunteer projects! older parents!) I am learning to let others do what they do best...instead of making that little pouch I needed, I bought on etsy from mintworkshop. I have lots of things on my favorites list right now!

Gina's Blog   :   Gina's Lettergirl Shop

And today, Gina was kind enough to offer one her custom family name stamps to one lucky MommyCoddle reader. Simply leave a comment in this post to be entered in the giveaway. And I will announce the winner on Friday!

Good luck! And thank you, Gina!

I guess it's time to spill the beans

Good morning, friends.

As I sit here this morning, (oh! afternoon, actually)... I've given my girls a break from school. They are off running around in the breezy, sunny outdoors, soaking up the sun and stretching stiff, creaky school-time bodies.

And I am here, enjoying a few moments of quiet before I head into the kitchen to determine what "delicacies" to put on the table for lunch. 

But today, today! is the day that I have decided to spill the beans. I have decided it's time to let you in on my secret. My news.

I am happy to share with all of you that I am expecting baby number four at the end of March.

I am blissfully happy to be two weeks into my second trimester, after the most difficult first trimester I have ever experienced.

I can only say that what I went through bordered on what I almost have considered depression. A complete lack of energy. A constant fog. A pile of emotion. A whole lot of exhaustion. A lack of interest in anything. And a constant state of nausea. 

But thankfully, as the second trimester approached the fog lifted, and I finally find myself returning to normal.

And while I am being thankful--I could not have made it through that first trimester without my wonderful husband. Who not only worked all day, but became mother and homemaker by night. And when I (often) came to him in tears, drowning in guilt over what I wasn't doing, he simply said, "Your job is to grow a baby and rest. That is all you need to worry about right now." 

I've been hesitant to share my news after my experience last fall, and I still find myself somewhat cautious. But as my husband reminds me, "telling people means more people to pray for the health and care of this new baby".

We are happy. The girls are ecstatic. Baby dolls are the new "it" toy around here. Elizabeth tells me she can see the baby in my belly button and "shhhh. he's sleepin'. " And they throw around names like "Texas" and "Susannah".

I think I'll go make some lunch and work on that list of names.....

secret messages

We are up to our necks in school around here. It is leaving little room for anything else, save barely getting dinner on the table and squeezing in a trip to the grocery store. But so far, fingers crossed, this year is starting off really well. We've got a new curriculum that we're enjoying, some new books that are "clicking", and a better plan and approach than in years past.

Today, Mary delivered this note to me--which I deciphered for you. It is a 'to do' list of the things she wants to accomplish during our upcoming trip to visit her cousins. These notes absolutely, positively kill me. I love them. I want to frame every single one. Dangle them from a clothesline across my dining room. Wallpaper my bathroom with them. Embroider them on pillows. Tattoo them on my forearms. (okay, a stretch.)

You see, Emma was never an "inventive speller". She wanted to know how to do it right, or she wouldn't do it at all. She never sat down, sounded things out and gave it her best shot. She sat at the kitchen table, asked me how to spell it and if I wouldn't give her the straight up answer, she said, never mind. A different approach, and that's okay.

Mary on the other hand, litters my house with these messages.

It never fails to amaze me how my children can tackle the world of learning so differently.

While Mary is leaving me to decipher her inventive notes, Emma has fallen in love with creating her own secret language of hieroglyphics.

We are studying Ancient Egypt and after spending some time this morning trying to write her name in Egyptian hieroglyphics (that barn owl "M" is really tough), I decided to let her create her own alphabet of glyphs.

And we just spent the last hour writing each other secret messages. Hers were all lovey-dovey, mine all business :

We are having tacos for dinner.

We need to do some math. 

I have more things to share with you. Ack! But just need a few more hours in the day. I'll be back soon with another sponsor giveaway, and some more news!

proud mama duck

Last week marked a milestone for our ducks. We let them in on the big secret we've been keeping from them.

I have to confess I was a little bit nervous. I was worried that if we let them know what they've been missing, they might never come home again. They might find that this new discovery was much better than the bits of dry duck mash and the large black tub that they soak in.

But sometimes, a mama duck (that's me, I'm their mama) has to let her ducklings taste a little freedom.

So we headed down to the stream. We called to them and they waddled behind us, keeping up for the whole, long trip. We almost lost them a few times, to the tasty fox tails and bits of bugs in the grass.

But they always caught up.

And once we turned that final corner, they knew exactly what to do. It was almost as if they didn't believe it.

They got in timidly at first, but it wasn't long before they were ducking their heads, splashing water onto their backs, sitting high in the water and flapping wings wildly, darting underwater and searching for bits of green and slime.

I stood back and looked at the scene before me.

My three girls wading and swimming--in various stages of "birthday suit-ness". Dripping clothes hanging from tree branches on the shore--the "laundry" they were drying. My dogs swimming back and forth into the deepest water, chasing after sticks. And my three ducks wading right in the middle of all the action.

Each minding their own business. Each completely happy.

I was a proud mama duck.

And the best part? Once we decided it was time to go home, we gathered up the clothes and the boots and headed back up the trail. And I called once more to the ducks, just in case they still wanted to come home.

And (much more quickly and obediently than my own children) they waddled out of the stream and back up the trail behind us.

really?

What? Your daughter's cat doesn't sit in a doll high chair and eat cold, gloppy oatmeal off a spoon? Really?

This is Mouse, the cat. He's been around this blog a number of times. Mary's morning routine involves coming down to the kitchen, saying good morning to me, and heading straight outside to find Mouse. She then brings him inside and snuggles him on the sofa or in bed, until I force her to finally come for breakfast.

This morning, she forgot to go to the bathroom before bringing him, so she slid the doll high chair next to me at the kitchen table, plopped him in, arranged his little paws, gave him a spoonful of oatmeal and left me to babysit. He sat there, happily, for quite a long time. 

This morning, we're heading out to the barn so Emma can have a ride. She has quite a little list to tackle before she does--including feeding the GIANT hornworm that came inside on Dan's pant leg last night, after he'd been ripping out tomato plants. This thing can eat through tomato plant leaves like nobody's business. It is sick and fascinating, all in the same breath.

And we've started our homeschooling year--which is another post I've been meaning to write. If you haven't read Stefani's series on homeschooling, it is worth your time. I think it is always helpful to read other people's approach, even if it is different from your own. There is always something valuable in hearing how other people do it. 

I've got some posts swirling around in my head but with school starting, I've had a hard time finding the time. I think I'm going to have to become a bedtime blogger--which means you'll either hear a mumbo-jumbo of incoherent thoughts from me, or some overly-philosophical take on life. I tend to get very dramatic and poetic at night.....

More soon. Happy Wednesday. (already?!!)

10 Ways To Get Outside--Even After School Starts

My friend Anne, from National Wildlife's Green Hour blog, asked if I would share these ten tips with all of you--on finding time to get outside with our children, even once the craziness of the school year starts. It is something that I believe is vital and important, so of course, I was happy to share them here. You can find the tips in their original location here on the Green Hour Blog--with live links, a few aren't working for me. Typepad is fussy.

And I would love to hear (and I'm sure Anne would too) the ways that you make time to get outside with your children, even once life gets busy. What are you favorite activities? Do you make time for a walk after dinner each night? Do you send them on a scavenger hunt? I'm sure we all have great ideas worth sharing.  It is amazing how easily children become engaged in the outside, natural world.

: BE OUT THERE : from NWF's Green Hour Blog :

Homework, soccer practice, ballet – is there time in the schedule to play outside? Here are some tips to get a Green Hour -- or at least part of an hour – during a busy day:

1. Scenario: Traffic made you late, there's no time to cook dinner, so you drive the family over to the rotisserie chicken place to get a quick meal.

Tip: Keep a picnic blanket in your car for an impromptu picnic on any spot of grass you can find!

2. Scenario: Backpack? Check. Lunch? Check. You're ready to head to school.

Tip: Whether you drive or walk to school, or wait with your child by the bus-stop, take a moment to notice nature. Make it a game of "I Spy" -- or download this nature scavenger hunt at greenhour.org/hunt.

3. Scenario: Your child is studying plants at school and, at the dinner table, recites how photosynthesis works. You, yourself, have never successfully kept a plant alive.

Tip: Start small: All you need is some bird-seed and a sponge. For sponge-garden instructions, visit greenhour.org/spongegarden. Next step: check out National Gardening Association’s parents’ primer for gardening with kids at kidsgardening.com/primer.asp.

3. Scenario: You and your youngest wait outside your older child's school, a few minutes before the bell rings.

Tip: Look up at the sky together. "Wait, mom -- is that a sheep or a donkey?" Picking out shapes in the clouds is a classic childhood activity -- and needs no special equipment.

4. Scenario: Your child looks at you and says, "Mom -- I'm a little old for cloud-watching!"

Tip: For older kids, combine technology with the outdoors and go geo-caching or, the lower-tech version, letterboxing. There are about 20,000 letterboxes and 250,000 geocaches hidden in North America. Visit geocaching.com and letterboxing.org.

5. Scenario: The kids get home from school and immediately plop in front of the TV. You suggest going outside. They respond, "Indoors is more fun!"

Tip #1: Set time-limits for TV watching and video game playing. It won't be popular, so make sure you have a back-up plan. If you have a backyard, kid-customize it with a homemade fort, dart boards, a trampoline, a craft table. Set up a bird house to keep wildlife visiting.

Tip #2: No backyard? Find your local parks using nwf.org/naturefind. For older kids, start stretching your child's boundaries, allowing them to go for unsupervised walks in the neighborhood with groups of friends. They'll love the feeling of independence.

6. Scenario: Outside, it’s a perfect fall day, but you look at your child’s homework assignments and realize outside play-time isn’t a reality.

Tip: Take homework outside! There’s no reason math problems can’t be done in the fresh air. Set up a clean outdoor workspace for your child on a patio table, perhaps.

7. Scenario: Your daughter comes home from school clutching new-found treasures: three crumbly leaves, two acorns and a dirt-encrusted rock.

Tip: Instead of putting them on the kitchen counter, a drawer, or -- gasp -- the trash, start a nature table. Set a limit of how many items they can have in the "nature museum" -- so they'll keep it to a manageable number. Other ideas: use an old tackle or sewing box, or a hanging shoe-organizer with clear plastic pockets. Have your kids decorate it!

9. Scenario: A blank piece of paper in front of her, your daughter asks you, "What should I draw?"

Tip: Have your child make a map of your neighborhood -- using only natural landmarks. This will heighten his or her observation skills and can be the first step in creating a "field guide" to the nature in your neighborhood.

10. Scenario: It's 8 p.m. Dinner's over, but not quite time for bed.

Tip: Keep flashlights near the door, and go for a neighborhood night hike. Kids will love the novelty -- and you can challenge them to identify "night sounds." Learn how to make a moon journal at greenhour.org/moonjournal.

Anne Keisman is Be Out There Editor for the National Wildlife Federation. Follow her on Twitter: @GreenHour.

Rooster Chronicles Pt.2 : Is this goodbye?

When I'd last said goodnight to Roosevelt, he was walking up the center line of Thomas Run in the pitch black night. There was nothing we could do. I'd given up hope of his survival through the night.

The next morning at six a.m., I wasn't' awakened by the morning light, or a sleepy-headed child, but I greeted my morning to the sound of a rooster crowing, right outside my bedroom window. Over and over again, he crowed. And I listened as he made his way around the house. Crowing. And crowing. I laid in bed and waited. Waited to hear the sound of little feet and whining voices, awakened by Roosevelt's march around the house. But by some supernatural act of God, they slept through the whole escapade. Thank goodness for sound machines.

By this time, I was beginning to hint to Dan that maybe the rooster wasn't meant to be part of our little farm. That maybe he needed to go back home. We decided to give him a few more nights and if he didn't start behaving, we'd send him back to Mr. Adams.

The next evening, when we locked in the chickens, Roosevelt was MIA. Nowhere to be found, not even in any of his usual, though annoying roosting places.

There was nothing we could do. We called it a night.

That morning, concerned that I was sleeping in way too long and wasting my day, Roosevelt began his crowing at 5:15. And he obviously wanted me, and the rest of the household to know that he'd made it through one more night without the safety of the coop. So he began his crowing campaign around the house. 

And then I sent that email. The rooster must go.

The next evening, was a repeat of the one before, but one thing differed. Around 2a.m, I heard clucking and squawking outside my bedroom window. I clutched my hands over my ears and elbowed Dan, who was still sound asleep despite the ruckus.

"Dan!!! Roosevelt is getting eaten! Get out there and stop it! Please!!"

But Dan, the man of few words (in the middle of the night) and lots of common sense said something along the lines of, "It's too late now. If I stop it mid-way through, then he's going to be hurt and I'm going to have to put him out of his misery. There's nothing you can do about it." 

I slowly inched my hands away from my ears and forced myself to listen to Roosevelt's last clucks which now sounded like they were coming from across the road. I hated to think it, but I figured a fox was dragging him away.

Then, I began to worry about the ducks.

At the same moment, Dan realized that if it was indeed a fox, he needed to get out there with his gun to prevent him from coming back and making a smorgasbord out of the other chickens, the ducks or even one of the cats.

I snuck downstairs to the dark kitchen and watched Dan out the window as he sat quiet and still on the back deck, gun loaded and aimed into the yard. The full moon cast long dark shadows of silver and gray across the grass. It was a perfect night to look for foxes.

Eventually I went back up to bed, hoping I wouldn't hear any gun shots, but anxious to hear that all three ducks were accounted for.

When he came back to bed, he told me that the ducks were fine and that they'd probably be much smarter in the morning. I had no idea what he meant, until he explained that he had taken the kitchen radio and put it out on the deck by the ducks. It was playing a radio station where a deep, soothing-voiced man read the Bible through the wee hours of the night. Ironically, the radio would most likely be our ducks salvation--the sound of a human's voice keeping away any predators.

That morning, there was no crowing.

When my eyes opened and I realized it was past the normal crowing hours, I then knew that Roosevelt had been eaten that night. We knew it was inevitable. In this area, a chicken can only stay unprotected for so long before it is discovered and gobbled up.

I felt a pang of sadness for the way Roosevelt had to die, but I also felt like we'd done everything we could. Our rooster interventions had failed. He didn't want our help.

And now, everything was back to normal. Just six little hens and three little ducks.

However, Roosevelt still had more story to tell.

That afternoon, I was out running errands when my cell phone rang. It was Emma.

"MOM! YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE THIS! The neighbors up the road just called and said our rooster is running around their farm!"

Apparently Roosevelt didn't get eaten, and whatever frightened him off his roost sent him dashing up the road, across cornfields, through the woods, to a neighbor's farm. I even clocked the distance--it was at least half a mile.

That afternoon, Dan headed up to their house with a chicken crate in the back of the farm truck to find Roosevelt and bring him home. A few minutes later the girls and I followed in case it would be necessary to round him up and corner him somewhere on their farm.

But Roosevelt was nowhere to be found.

We left empty-handed. No rooster. No Roosevelt.

Either Roosevelt now belongs to the people and farms and homes of Thomas Run. Or he belongs to heaven.

And I suppose, that's the end of the story.

I'll keep you posted. Though I wouldn't be surprised to hear a crowing outside my window one of these mornings, when Roosevelt decides to make his way back up Thomas Run to his first home. Or, for that matter, a yellow taxicab to stop at the end of the lane and drop him off.

Poor Roosevelt.

[photo by katie pertiet --who's addicted to photographing my chickens]

Rooster Chronciles, part one

Late last week, I sent my husband an email. The subject line said, "the rooster...". When he opened up the email, I finished my thought, "...must go."

The rooster must go.

But I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me back up in the story to explain how I got to this place.

Two weeks ago, my husband made one of his typical stops to drop off tractor parts for a local farmer. Before he stopped at the farm we talked, "This will be quick. I doubt he'll even be home. I won't be long." 

As darkness began to fall and it had been more than an hour since our conversation, I began to wonder. I figured the farmer must have been home after all, and knowing Dan they were deep in some conversation about crops or tractors or what farmers on the eastern shore were up to. Either that, or he was belly-up underneath a tractor, up to his elbows in grease, putting on the parts himself.

A few minutes later, the porch door flung open and Emma collapsed into my lap in tears. She and Mary had been with Dan for his delivery.

"Daddy brought home a rooster!"

I rolled my eyes. "A rooster?"

"Yes! Mr. Adams gave Daddy one of his roosters. He's putting it in the coop with the chickens. I don't want a mean old rooster!"

I had to confess, I didn't really want a mean old rooster either. I already lucked out with our last one. And I was feeling pretty content with our little clutch of hens.

When Dan got inside he explained what had happened, that the farmer had too many roosters, that he offered one to us, that he was such a beautiful, friendly rooster.

Emma told me the story of how the farmer had tucked the rooster's head under his wing, rocked him back and forth a few times in his arms and put him to sleep. She told me how he laid him down in the grass and he just stayed there sound asleep.

I asked Dan where this new rooster was now and he told me he had slipped him into the dark coop with the chickens.

Just a few days before, I had been reading a book and oddly enough the author mentioned her father's technique for introducing a new chicken to the flock. The book, obviously, has nothing to do with chickens. But I had mentioned the technique to Dan and he decided to give it a try. Slip the new chicken (or in this case, rooster) into the coop once it is dark and everyone is roosting. And in the morning, they wake up, see the new addition and figure he must have been there all along and they never noticed. And everyone gets along smashingly.

And I have to confess, the technique worked.

But still the rooster had not won us over. Emma and I were still skeptical and pretty sure we weren't interested in having a rooster.

That is, until the next morning when we heard his faint crowing from the coop. We were both outside when we heard it. We looked at each other, smiled and declared together, "Hey, I kind of like this!"

And then, we went to see him. And boy, Dan was right. He was a good-lookin' boy.

Alright. He could stay.

That evening, when it was time to lock in the chickens, we took a count. Six hens. No rooster. We searched around the sheds, inside the stone barn and couldn't find him anywhere. Finally we found him in the wood shed, roosting on the rungs of one of Dan's ladders. Much to the rooster's distress, Dan carried him over to the coop and locked him in for the night.

We figured he was still learning the ropes and didn't remember how to get back to the safety of his shed.

The next night, same thing. This time, we found the rooster roosting in a different shed deep down inside a box of kindling we'd been starting to collect for the winter. And this time, he wasn't as easy to catch. But we did and he got a personal escort back to the coop.

Third night. Same story. No rooster.

Except this time, when Dan went to catch him, he was absolutely, positively not interested in being carried off to the coop. He took flight. He panicked. He dashed around the yard, under trees, behind sheds, around the house....and finally straight up the center line of Thomas Run.

Finally, as the darkness really began to thicken we gave up. There was nothing we could do. We left the chicken as he ran up the road towards the neighbor's house. I wondered what the next car driving up the road would think when their headlights caught a large red rooster in a mad dash up the pavement.

I went to bed convinced he wouldn't make it through the night, but I had to admit, I didn't have much sympathy for the rooster we'd now named, "Roosevelt.". You can only offer a rooster so much help, but if he doesn't want to accept it, there's not much you can do.

There's more to this story, but this is getting awful long-winded and long....the rest of the story, tomorrow.

Vintage Pearl Winner

First of all, thank you for all your encouragement on my "spinning" post. I've received a lot of feedback and emails, which have been wonderful. I'll be sure to share my thoughts on all of that soon. I still have some thinking to do.....

The winner of the Vintage Pearl giveaway is comment #26:

Heather, please send me an email (found on the About Molly page) with your contact info, and I'll pass it on to Erin. Congratulations!

spinning

I know I'm going to have a hard time going to sleep tonight.

I just got an update in my inbox from Susan's Martha's Vineyard Fiber Farm blog. Seriously, this might be the biggest-ever blog-land giveaway. You can go check it out, but the nuts and bolts are this: She's giving away a small starter flock of angora goats as well as a custom-built run-in shed, shipped to the winner.

And it's an essay contest.

And if you've been following my blog for any length of time, chances are you probably know that I grew up raising lambs. And I have a serious sweet spot for them. And of all the things that I want to add to the Thomas Run menagerie--lambs are number one, above and beyond, top of my list. (And for the record, they're at the top of the girls' list, too. Even above a pony. Do you know we often take the long way home, just to pass our favorite sheep farm?)

But these aren't sheep. They're goats. What do I know about goats? Even goats that look like sheep.

But a starter flock?! And a shed?! And Susan will even throw in some consulting to help get you started?!

And did you know there's a spinning wheel sitting up in my grandmother's bedroom?

And did you know that my one goal for this winter was to finally sit down with her and ask her to teach me how to spin? I missed that chance.

But there are still other ways to learn. I know.

But then, reality comes crashing in. And I remember that we still have no fencing.

And we still have no money for fencing.

And we still own that stupid house in Wisconsin that is sucking all the money out of our pockets.

And I think that maybe this just isn't my time.

But I'm still thinking.

Gosh, am I thinking....

Show & Tell : The Vintage Pearl

I am so excited to share this shop with you this afternoon--because as I sit here at my kitchen table writing this post, I'm wearing a little goodness around my neck from this very talented mother and artist.

Erin of The Vintage Pearl, was one of my lovely sponsors for the month of August and she emailed me about working together on a Show & Tell for mommycoddle readers. 

Erin's shop is absolutely lovely and full of so many beautiful classic creations. They are timeless, and make wonderful gifts.  Lately, I am really loving the idea of giving personalized jewelry as gifts--whether it be for a friend, a mother, a newlywed, or even our children. (Shhh, but I'm already thinking my older two might be ready for their own simple necklace this Christmas.)

Erin is a mother of four children. She makes her hand-stamped jewelry, keeps a lovely blog and shop and also takes beautiful photographs. I asked Erin to share a little bit about herself :

How did you get started making jewelry?

After my daughter was born (after having 2 boys) I started tinkering around with how to make jewelry for her and I to wear. I started with beading and soldering charms before discovering hand stamping. I love playing with new materials and figuring out new techniques!

How do you balance it all?

Balance can be really hard sometimes! It's probably my biggest obstacle. I try to work during naptimes and I work a lot of late nights after all 4 kids are in bed. My husband is very supportive and if I need to get orders done he will take the kids out for a few hours. My family is very close and we love to be together... I also love my job and work hard to keep up with it all. Sometimes, especially during busy seasons, it's hard to do both! But we make it work :)

And I'm so happy to tell you that Erin is giving one lucky mommycoddle reader their choice of one item from her beautiful shop! Yup, that's right. Your choice of any item from The Vintage Pearl.

You know how it works: Pop over to Erin's shop and have a look around. Come back and leave a comment letting us know what catches your eye, and you'll be entered in the giveaway. I will randomly choose and announce a winner on Monday.

Good luck!  And thank you, Erin for such a sweet giveaway!