Big

Karis never stops talking. Her lips simply don't stay closed long enough for her to take a break. She came out of the womb like that, her sobs deep and powerful. Her bedtime prayers are giant run-on sentences that start off reasonably with prayers for family members, then drift into prayers for random inanimate objects she can see in the room around her, digressing into a made up language with words like "tetch" and "ratcha", and then finally morph into questions such as, "Mom, do you remember the pink elephants we saw at Disney?" (Yes. And we're praying, remember?) Her friend's house was termed "adorable" yesterday, and when engaged in a discussion about God, she informed me, "We like sin." (Official family policy: We don't like sin.)

I never imagined I would be answering so many questions a few months shy of her 3-year-old-birthday. Most questions revolve around the names of people we come into contact with. What's the mom's name again? What's the babies name again? She rehearses the names over and over again, for days on end, until she remembers them. She just wants to know.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'm often exhausted by her constant interjections and nonstop babble from the moment her eyes open until...well, she even talks in her sleep. Truth is, I think she believes she's an adult like everyone else around her. She acts a little surprised when she looks in the mirror and sees a little kid standing in front of her. She'll even gasp a little bit and then say, "Cute!" (Confident.)

As we took our family walk last night, I watched her saunter down the street, too-long hair swaying from side to side, jean skirt bobbing playfully up and down with each step, and I was reminded of the awesomeness of parenting. Which awesome? Both, really. This is good and heavy stuff, parenting a little person with a big personality and zealous thirst for life.

But don't be fooled by her colorful vocabulary. No sooner will she use a big, made-up word like "unconstanable" to describe her nap than she'll turn to you tearfully and say, "Hold me." And I do.

Housekeeping

Just wanted to drop in and let you all know you can view the article I wrote for EU Jacksonville here. Scroll down to page 18 to view my article. For you locals, here is a list of Jacksonville establishments that carry EU monthly. I had so much fun writing this article, and I just finished writing my second!

As for that wedding, it was a great experience! It had its ups and downs, lessons learned, and knowledge gained. In a sentence: wedding photography is a tough gig! But the night was beautiful! It was a small wedding taking place in an old, southern plantation-style home. The ceremony was on the lawn under the oak trees, and after the sun went down, the reception took place in the quaint, candlelit dining room. So laid back and beautiful. Here are a few of my favorites from the night. Enjoy!

Aunt, ants, and anteaters

Aunt:
My bright-eyed, color-purple-loving niece turned 3 last week, and I took a little trip to fulfill my aunt-y duties. And when I say "duties", I am talking about a fun trip to sunny Ft. Lauderdale to eat, laugh, swim, and shop with my nieces, brothers, sister-in-law, and parents. It's a job I'll gladly fill anytime it's asked of me.

Ants:
Late spring has brought with it more than the typical humidity and sunnier evenings. Our home has become a haven to countless ants. Apparently, the initial scouters came to inspect and sent the word back to the whole crew beyond that our home was hospitable to their kind. So we've called in the cavalry to reinforce our shameless animal cruelty. My father-in-law kindly came to spray up and down, inside and out of our home today. It turns out that Karis and Me-Ma's intermittent sprinkling of ant killer on the many ant piles in our yard just wasn't cutting it. Though it did make for a sweet picture.


Anteaters:
Living a mere 5 minutes from the Jacksonville Zoo has it's definite perks. Just the other day I woke up and thought, "We should go to the zoo this morning just to feed the giraffes." Thanks to our annual pass, it would have been a great idea, and, in my ever-so-humble mind, I thought it might just make me the coolest, most spontaneous mom ever. Well, title not fulfilled that day. But we did go for a visit a few days later with our friends. We hit the highlights: the giraffes, monkeys, penguins (pictured here), and anteaters.

Regarding that last animal, my friend and I heartily agreed it might possibly be the craziest-looking creature on the planet. It's huge, awkward, and feeds mostly on ants. Weird, right? And yet I could totally have benefited from one roaming around my house over the last few weeks.

Free time, then and now

I walked past Karis' room yesterday and found her feverishly "washing" something in her play kitchen sink. I did a double take as I walked past, putting on the breaks to get another peek at the item. It looked too paper-ish and important to be in her hands. Sure enough, she had swiped my college journal from the bookshelf in the office and was playing with a piece of paper I stuck in there nearly 11 years ago.

It was a list describing the 10 weeks I spent studying abroad in Eastern Europe, each week containing a few notes on the highlights of that week. I stood there and reminisced over the details. Italy in week 2. The gorgeous countryside of Salzburg in week four. The festive, gypsy concert and awkward bathhouse experience of week six's Hungary trip. And how could I forget Vienna and all of it's gorgeous Christmas decorations in week 10? It was there that I tasted the most mouthwatering bratwurst sandwich at a Christmas festival in the park.

My daydreaming continued as I thought for a few moments about my 3 roommates. I won't soon forget our dancing parties in that old, communist-style, Slovakian dorm room, washing our travel-weary clothes by hand in a stand-up shower, or keeping the entire Slovak bird population fed when we left our perishable food out on the balcony one freezing cold night. I couldn't help but consider how we'd all changed since those days. Dianna is now mother to 7 children. Brooke traded in her dancing shoes to become an adopted mom to a beautiful, teenage girl. And Jessica went on to get her master's degree in nursing, marry the man of her dreams, and pass away after a long battle with cancer.

Along with the list of countries, I had also jotted down a few observations and lessons learned while traveling. The following are my favorites:

It is funny how a weary traveler will territorialize a space no matter how small and dingy it may be. It becomes home. No one can touch that 3 feet you have sealed off as privately your own.

You know it's time to go home when you rate a nice warm bed and a hot shower right up there with seeing a famous, beautiful, historical landmark.

Now please understand that I wouldn't trade my current stage in life for anything in the world, but I did enjoy standing there daydreaming about all of that single, college girl independence. How could I forget the incredible feeling of hopping on a train whenever the travel mood struck or climbing up an old, winding staircase to get to the top of an ancient stone castle? Those experiences leave a lasting impression.

But I found it funny that, according to the notes above, the footloose and fancy free, 20-year-old me would have traded a trip to a historic, European castle for a nice, warm bed. At that time, I envied something that the current me has plenty of: a home, plenty of personal space, a warm bed, and a hot shower. Granted, that personal space is littered with books, dolls, and miniature versions of Mickey Mouse. And certainly that hot shower only comes late into the night after everyone else in the home has nodded off. And a warm bed? I've got that too, so long as I've remembered to wash, dry, and put the sheets back on the bed in a timely fashion.

As I stuffed the note unceremoniously back into the journal and slid it back into it's spot on the bookshelf, I couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. Even if I tried, I couldn't have thought of a more fitting place to rediscover this piece of paper, a relic of my former youthful and independent days, than between the grubby hands of my 2-year-old daughter as she washed them down the drain. That might just be my favorite definition of irony ever.

Here I am at one of the many castles I toured, an experience that apparently I would have traded for a few domestic comforts. I think the look on my face says otherwise.

[Top photo] Taken atop the Untersberg Mountain in Salzburg, Austria following a hearty yodelling session with Jessica.

The view

Karis and I headed downtown for an early morning appointment. I entered the parking garage hopeful for a spot amongst the early birds and lucky ones. I was neither. So higher and higher I drove, one floor after the next, feeling some sort of disappointment with each floor, though any floor past the first only meant a short, insignificant elevator ride. (I'm trivial beyond measure.)

As I rounded the bend leading to the fourth floor, the last floor before the rooftop, with a large patch of sunlight beaming through from above, I noticed the view and close proximity to the helipad just beyond the railing. We both squealed at the sight. And that's when I remembered. I'd been in this same garage about 6 months prior. I'd experienced the same slow and disappointing drive up, and the same excited reaction at the view upon arrival.

I was reminded that there is so much joy in the waiting and trusting.

Thursday's snapshot

Watering the flower beds...and Karis' hands.

I've been a little slow at blogging lately, but I'm gearing back up to write, photograph, and share it all with you. There is so much to share with you...the update on last week's wedding, the article which hits the streets tomorrow, and other general noteworthiness. But for now, I'm just going to aim to get my blogging engine back up and running. Toward that end, I thought I'd post a few snapshots of our life over the next few days. Some words but mostly pictures that capture the moments worth remembering. I've missed this place. I'm glad to be back.

Look who I found crawling through the garden this morning. And, yes, I know I have a thing for snails. My obsession has been well documented.

Him

:: Sexy
After a hard day's work, Matt sits across the dinner table from Karis and me and says, "It's great to be home with you, ladies." These two ladies giggle and smile from ear to ear.

:: Sexier
We've been doing a lot of gardening in our front yard. Weeds pulled, rocks and other debris excavated from the flower beds, and flowers planted. We've been having a lot of fun shopping for flowers and exploring all the varieties available. So much fun, in fact, that Matt called me in the middle of his workday on Monday to say he'd gone shopping on his lunch break to buy some African Daisies which he'd seen a few days prior and just had to have. I smiled when I heard his voice over the phone, "I guess I'm a daisy man." Not only is that statement sexy, but it's also incredibly manly, not to mention wonderful for our home's curb appeal.

:: Sexiest
Of all Mexican cuisine I've tasted, pork carnitas stand proudly and deliciously at the top of the list. I've recently discovered a great, relatively simple recipe from America's Test Kitchen. I made them for the second time last week but was a little disappointed with how they turned out compared to my first attempt. But when Matt tasted them, he instantly declared, "If these are your 'bad' carnitas, I'd gladly have them any day of the week."

(Sigh)

It's perhaps the sexiest thing he could ever say to me.

Eggs-traodinary

Good friends don't keep secrets from you. They come for a visit and share with you the divine nature of soft boiled eggs. At weekend's end, they pack up their bags, say good bye, and leave you with the recipe for future enjoyment.

Make such friends. Keep such friends, and for the love all that's beautiful and yummy, make these eggs.

Soft boiled eggs

Bring water to a rolling boil. Carefully lower each egg into the boiling water, making sure that the eggs don't bump into each other as they are very fragile at this stage. Boil for 5 minutes, remove from water, and peel immediately under cool running water. Season with a dash of sea salt and ground pepper. Enjoy with a few thin slices of toasted Italian white bread.

Full on

::Into my 30's
I turned 31 on Saturday. The gift of sleeping in, a trip to the beach with old friends, spicy chicken fajitas, and a gooey chocolate fudge cake were on hand to help ring in another wonderful year and help me ignore the reality that 31 means I'm solidly into my 30's.

::Bribery
With a bed pushed up against the guestroom window, 5 o'clock sunlight teasing me, and Karis antsy to do some jumping, I began shooting. And when Karis got tired before my creative drive did, Reese's Pieces were generously promised. I realize I'm creating a monster here.

::Writer's block
I'm easy with the words on my blog, so long as no one's grading me or, more importantly, giving me a deadline. I love the total artistic control and freedom that blogging allows. But now that I'm scheduled and expected to deliver? Blank. Nada. Zilch.

At least I'm writing about something I care about, visiting the Main Street Library. But it's almost too good. I can't narrow my thoughts down. And so what do I do to help jog my brain? Blog. Here's to hoping blogging does the jogging...

Pictured here is Karis admiring the 3 story murals at the library last week.

In the balance

I took an unintended break from blogging last week. Life just seemed so full of "to do's" and "to do right nows" that I couldn't help but ignore blogging and mostly anything creative during that time. I've been tossing around thoughts in my mind regarding how to maintain a level of creativity in the midst of the busyness and responsibility of life. I've asked myself, "Does growing up mean giving up the artistic and creative?" NO, I say a million times over. I was made to create art.

But I will admit I'm not sure how to balance them both, especially when life enters a busy phase, which our little family seems to be entering into right now. Matt is taking on some large projects in the next few months on top of a full-time job, and in an effort to minimize his stress, I'm taking on more responsibility at home, i.e. paying bills and managing the budget. These are yucky tasks, ones my brain balks at, my will digs its heels against, and my emotions insist it can't handle. (I'm obviously not one for drama, right?) But it's true. I don't love the finer points of budgeting, only the broad, sweeping strokes such as walking up to my husband and carefreely asking him, "Is there money for me to buy a new dress?" I'd simply rather not figure it out myself.

There have been tears shed and words thrown haphazardly about so as to hurt the hearers (read: former budget-handler). But I am making head way in accepting this balancing act of juggling wife-ing, mothering, budgeting, cooking, cleaning, shopping, befriending, so on and so forth. But creating art? Sitting down and typing out words in such a way that I feel fulfilled, rejuvenated, and full of purpose afterwards? Picking up my camera and snapping shots of my beautiful life around me? No. I'm no good at this balancing act. It feels like a trapeze walk, a brain-exploding act.

There has been very little photographing and writing going on lately. But I don't want to give you the impression that I've done nothing related to my artistic abilities in the last few busy weeks. That's not true. I have been busy pursuing creative outlets for the future. In fact, I have a few projects in the works, and though I've kept my lips shut before now, I think it's high time I come clean.

For starters, I'm photographing my first wedding next weekend!! The opportunity fell into my lap, and since I'd been looking to challenge my photography skills and branch out, I couldn't very well say no. It was, I believe, exactly the challenge I was looking for. As a result, I've been doing a lot of preparing, i.e. reading books, blogs, and my camera manual. The best photography resource I've found so far is the book Understanding Exposure by Bryan Peterson (Go get it! It's awesome!). Every time I read some of this book, I walk away gushing about how much I love photography and how well this book explains it. Just ask my husband. He'll testify to my gushing.

Secondly, I recently contacted a local arts and entertainment publication in my city, EU Jacksonville. I submitted some samples of my writing, and I've been invited to contribute a monthly column focusing on the idea of exploring the arts in Jacksonville with my child. If you read this blog regularly you'll know how much this is right up my alley! That combination of writing and pursuing an artistic life with my child in tow is something that could have me talk (or write) about for hours. And, coincidentally, I have to write my first article by April 15, the day before the wedding! So are you beginning to understand why I've felt so busy (a.k.a. strung out)?

But I have to go back to my earlier point on balance. For me, I find comfort in some truths integral to my faith. Anglican priest and writer John Newton writes this about God, "Everything is needful that He sends; nothing can be needful that He withholds." God is sending creative opportunities, and He's also sending budgeting responsibilities. I have to balance them both, not neglecting either one as they are both vital to my survival.

I'm not sure how this will go. After all, anxiety is my middle name and perfectionism my last. It's a terrible combination. A dream-stealing combination. But nevertheless, my plate is filling up, and I both love it and fear it.

I'm reminded of a fantastic HBO movie, Temple Grandin, which I recently watched. It's based on the real life of Temple Grandin, PH.D., an autistic woman who has achieved amazing success in her life in the midst of her immense struggle with autism. A reoccurring theme in the movie is doors. Throughout the film Temple struggles to convince herself to walk through the doors of opportunity that come along, and as each new door opens, she reminds herself that it is a passage to a new and better world. Clearly, she's all the better for having walked through them.

I have no idea what will come of these current opportunities in my life. But I see doors, people, and I'm walking through them.

Easter lessons (of the unspiritual variety)

Dying eggs with three toddlers will cause the moms to wonder if this is more fun "when the kids get older."

If lacking a special Easter dress, pin a fabric flower to your favorite necklace and you've got an outfit worth celebrating.

Photo shoots before lunch are never appreciated.

If Dad hides the eggs, Karis may end up sticking her hands into strange, not mom-approved places. (She's not in pain here, just straining to get the egg out. Dad eventually stuck his hand in and got it out.)

But hiding an egg at the top of a gravel "mountain" is totally fun.

When Daddy B (grandpa) sits down at the piano, Karis will saunter up and demand "Holy, Holy, Holy." They will sing it together, and it will be a picture worth taking.

Happy Easter to you and yours!

Spring tree

When you've publicly sworn you aren't a crafty person, does making this tree turn you into a liar? What if you were feeling sick all day and Karis was content with play-doh at the table and you got a whim to make the awesome paper tree you saw here? Liar still? If so, you are not alone in your disapproval. Matt came home as I was mid-project and looked quite confused. He saw the shards of cereal box cutouts and magazine clippings littered about the dining room floor and me feverishly cutting away little paper leaves and carefully sticking them on the tree while happily exclaiming, "Look what I'm making."

He probably asked me 3 times throughout the night, "So what's up with that tree?!" He knows me better. I don't craft. At least not under normal conditions. I think his concern only proves how much he loves me.

I do love the way the tree turned out, but a quick scan of the paper/play-doh disarray at the end of the night reminded me exactly why I don't normally do this sort of thing.

Corners

The last few weeks have been busy weeks. Like fall-in-bed-at-night-and-sleep-soundly kind of busy. It's been a good busy, though. Matt and I have a lot of projects we're working on these days, both together and separately. One of the many things keeping me busy is my continued effort to make this house a home. And though I'm a slow decorator, something I recently came clean about, I am making progress. Spaces throughout the house are gradually being assessed then thoughtfully organized and decorated. And when arrangements prove to be inadequate, well then there's a little bit of reorganizing and redecorating being done to better fit our needs.

As I move about the home these days, I'm please with the progress we've made. There's still much to be done to freshen up and regenerate this old home, but for now, I want to celebrate the progress. I present a tour of a few of my favorite corners around the house, the ones that make me happy when I walk past them. Enjoy!

The funky tea set (enjoy, Lindsay!) and other glass/porcelain items sitting in my china cabinet. For the most part I prefer a clutter-free home. Since I've acquired a number of adorable, vintage items, I've relegated them all to one place. My china cabinet feels like the one place I can let things stack and collect. In fact, it feels a little like an antique shop in that small space, and I love it.

Some colorful felt birds my mother also gifted to me. They hang from a branch I found while on a walk, and the whole thing is nestled in a milk glass vase on the fireplace mantle.

The kitchen nook in Karis' room. Sidenote: The babushka dolls shown here are special. I bought them for my mom when I lived in Europe in college. The last time I visited her, she gifted them to Karis. I love that they've come full circle, and of course, Karis loves them...especially the littlest doll.

Every time I peek out the kitchen door into the mudroom I smile. I recently transplanted a bookshelf from another part of the house where it was underutilized, and now I have an organized, streamlined system for holding our household supplies. Is it weird that I love seeing an army of paper towels just sitting there waiting to be used?

I'm not in love with my pantry, but like many old homes, you have to make do with it's quirks. The house actually doesn't have a designated pantry in the kitchen. Instead we've re-purposed a small, built-in corner cabinet in the dining room and made it into our pantry. The space it tight and triangular (since it's a corner), but I love when I find a system that works within the confines of the space. And pictured here, mid-spin, is a lazy susan which helps this space work. (Oh, and don't judge me by the SPAM you see here. It was a gift. Long story short, I'm planning on making this recipe with it one day.)

O'clock

912
3 6

Stepping out

Karis is currently enthralled with the idea that she was once a baby, born and cared for by mommy and daddy. While I was paying for my ear doctor appointment today, Karis informed the receptionist that Karis was once a baby and "was born." She then proceeded to show her what she looked like when she came out, doing a little dancing jig with hands out to her side and feet running in place. Of course, I only remember the excruciating, unmedicated pain and violent yelling at the doctor to "get this baby out NOW!" But these are just minor details, right? And who knows, maybe little baby Karis was doing a little dancing jig, so glad to be out of that confined space.

Later in the day, Karis stepped out the back door with instructions by me to stay within sight and come whenever I call. I proceeded to make dinner, one ear angled to the door and two eyes frequently looking out on her. It was her first real taste of independent play outside, and though there was only one minor incident involving her hair and the grapevines on the side (of which she'll retell the story over and over during dinner about how I "saved" her), I think we've found a new outdoor routine.

Likewise, while Karis was trying out her independence, I stepped out on a limb with dinner, making skillet curried chicken and rice from the America's Test Kitchen cookbook. It called for long grain white rice, but we're short grain brown rice people around here. Feeling gutsy, I adapted the recipe...and two hours later, I stood over a pot of bland, undercooked curried brown rice. Any of you familiar with that panic feeling that arises at 7:30pm when dinner is looking to be a miserable failure? Note to self: stick close to home on this recipe next time.

Grateful for

:: This man, this girl, this sky
Though Saturday started out slow and cranky, it ended with a long shopping trip together and an unbelievable sunset. Whatever we do, doing it together is best.

:: Sister-in-laws
While it can be a trying relationship for some, I'm surrounded by honest and kind women. I'm so grateful for them, all 3 of them. Pictured here is Erica, my northernmost SIL, basking in the Florida sun while on a visit from Baltimore, Maryland a few weeks ago.

:: Green onions
When I say I love green onions, I'm talking about young love here. Even though I have been eating them off and on for years, I have to say my love for them has really just taken off in the last few weeks. What's not to love about this relative of the bulb onion...the more reserved, fresh-flavored cousin that doesn't bring tears upon cutting or eating raw?

Our favorite ways to consume them: 1. a breakfast or easy dinner consisting of a bowl of steaming grits, two eggs over easy, shredded sharp cheddar cheese, and a generous sprinkling of chopped green onions (whites and greens included), or 2. In a salad, strewn throughout so as to get a hint of fresh, mild onion flavor in every bite. Mmm.

:: My stay-at-home job
Where else could I work and be allowed to take a Monday morning field trip to the beach just so we can chase gulls and draw letters in the sand?

On hummus and faith

I sat across the table today from Leida, a beautiful, spirited Puerto Rican woman with 54 years of life experience. She's honest and she's fun...totally reminds me of my mom. Karis was along for the ride, and though I would rather have had a childless date, in the end my phone was a good babysitter. I'm not proud of this, but in a pinch, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse streaming through YouTube will quiet even the most restless 2 year old.

Over a sampler platter of tabouleh, hummus, stuffed grape leaves, kibbe, and falafel, Leida and I spoke about marriage, faith, and hope in the midst of suffering. In the end, Karis was stuffed with chicken (from Leida's meal not mine), my phone was covered in tabouleh juice, two packets of sugar were dumped in Karis' mouth and all over the table, a few booths scaled like mountains, and I was greatly encouraged. A momentary sacrifice of parenting for the long term benefit of my heart. Totally worth it.

Project shmoject

(Alternate title: Look, Ma, I'm crafty!)

I was talking with my dear sister a few weeks ago about blogging. She was showing me one of her favorite blogs she reads, thefrugalgirl.com. It's chock-full of useful information on baking, budgeting, repurposing furniture, household chores, and general thrifty living. Incredibly practical stuff for my sister, a newly married woman who is currently learning to build routines into her home life.

Well those thoughts got me thinking about this here blog space, and I wondered what I offer. In the end I figured I offer a little inspiration...perhaps. Practical tips? Rarely. I guess it's not really my thing right now.

That is...until today. Get ready for this:

I crafted today. (I know, I know!)

I found two packages of kitchen towels, each containing 3 different towels, by DwellStudio at Target on clearance for $2.48 each. I loved the designs, though I wasn't sure how the color scheme of brown and aqua would go with my current kitchen colors of red and white. But they were so cute and such a good deal that I figured if I didn't use them I could, at the very least, give them away.

True enough, they didn't go with my curtains and the color scheme I'd already established in the kitchen. So they sat on my counter for a few days, and I mostly ignored them, pouting because they wouldn't work. And then it hit me. They would make great curtains to replace my current ones. Sure, the current curtains were great, but these were looking fantastic, and I would always have my former curtains to return to if I wanted to change back.

A little ironing of the fabric to remove the creases...

A few packs of ring clips I purchased at Wal-mart...

And Voila!...new curtains!

And get this...the curtains were the perfect size! I turned the striped pair on their side to make them into cafe curtains for the window. And with the polka-dotted pair, I totally got lucky because they were just the right length to cover the random hole in my cabinet. They are nicely sewed on three sides with a cute strip of aqua ribbon on the fourth side, giving them a finished look. Long story short, people: Not a single stitch sewed! (contented sigh)

Ok, so maybe this project doesn't exactly qualify as crafty, in the sense of skilled sewing and general making of things with your hands. But I'll settle for the other kind of crafty, meaning cunning and tricky. Because I think getting two pairs of curtains, sans sewing, for the low price of $5 is both cunning and tricky.

Oh, and look who also got her a new pair of kitchen towels after all?!