A Few of my Favorite Things

I've been organizing my life into boxes, bins and categories lately. I've got a big move coming up and I'm trying to get prepared so that it goes as smoothly as possible.

In the process of all of this, I've found there are some things that I just can't pack. I want them on hand for every day use. They might not be things that I wear, use or even look at everyday, but they are my absolute favorites and I can't imagine sticking them in a box for even a few days until they can be unpacked.

- Everything I own by Lisa Lehmann. My collection is growing slowly, but surely. I have copper swirl earrings, silver circle earrings with green stones, a set of 4 stacking rings (3 silver, 1 gold), an adorable green stone bracelet, and a necklace that matches my rings.

-My Ikea duvet covers. I used to live a short train ride from the Ikea just outside of Copenhagen. I spent way too much time in that store and managed to buy a duvet cover pretty much every time I was there. I love being able to change the whole feel of my bedroom simply by switching them out. From bold geometric patterns to soft florals, I have something for every mood.

- These socks. I usually avoid wearing socks. They tend to make my feet sad. No one wants sad feet. I do, however, love my Darn Toughs. They're lightweight but warm. Even the cushioned hiking sock doesn't feel bulky or constricting. I like the fun patterns, too.

- My Copco travel mug. It's white with a purple silicone sleeve. It's simple. It holds enough coffee to keep me happy. It fits in my car cup holder. A lot of places will let me fill it up so I don't have to deal with paper to-go clean up.

- Orange cinnamon soap. This is quite possible shameless self-promotion, but I love this soap. I opened my Etsy shop because that way I could have an excuse for making so much of it. The spicy cinnamon makes this a little less girly, while still feminine. It's not the only scent I have, but it's definitely my favorite. Want to try some? Order anything from my shop and use the code Rambling10 for a 10% discount!

On a More Serious Note...

I heard something a couple of weeks ago that made me very angry. It's something that I hear often, and every time I see red. A woman said that she didn't want to take her 3 year old daughter out to lunch because she believes the girl is getting fat. I hear parents lamenting the fact that their precious darlings are growing up too fast. I agree, childhood is all too brief a period of one's lifetime. The fact that these same parents can turn around and call their children fat- or lazy, stupid, even ugly!- baffles me. It's statements like this, while often not directed at the child him or herself, that let kids know they're not good enough.

Kids, especially girls, have a lot of images thrown at them from an early age. Barbies and Bratz, songs like Call Me Maybe and Give Your Heart a Break, and clothing that makes a little girl look like a grown woman. They don't need adults adding to confusion that they might have surrounding their body image. Babies shouldn't look good in skinny jeans. Even if you can make the legs lie flat on those adorable, pudgy little legs, the diaper bulge is inevitable. Toddlers are going to have a layer of baby fat on their bodies, too. It's a sign of a healthy child, for crying out loud! While I'm just not cool enough to understand animal prints, faux fur and pleather on infants, I am very comfortable saying the word Sexy has no place on a toddlers butt.

 When the people who are supposed to love them unconditionally find them lacking, how are children supposed to develop a healthy self esteem? At best one can hope for a withdrawn, insecure child. At worst? I hate to even imagine what a parent is capable of doing to a child with some regrettably timed phrases. I do know that most children will do anything they can to gain the approval of the adults in their lives and emulate them. That is a perfect recipe for creating bullies. Jennifer Livingston is a million times more eloquent than I could ever be.

Another Year Older

My birthday is coming up. I'm not fishing for well wishes or anything, in fact I've never really liked my birthday. I don't care so much about getting older, although the gray hair is really starting to get on my nerves. I had a sister who was 2 years and 2 days older. As kids we celebrated our birthday together, and as the older sister she got to pick cake flavor, theme and entertainment. As we grew older, we had a few good years where we met up and celebrated just the two of us. Six years ago she passed away very suddenly. I was living abroad at the time and wasn't able to make it back for her funeral. Since then, my birthday has always been a glaring reminder that she's gone and I miss her.

My sister and I had a little birthday tradition when it came to gifts. We would set a price limit and buy something for ourselves "from the other." When we met to celebrate, we would show each other what we had found. It was fun, we got exactly what we wanted, and even though I bought my gifts myself, I still think of them as gifts from her.

Last year I decided to try out reviving the tradition, but with a twist. I asked designer Lisa Lehmann if she would help. I sent her some money and gave her a general idea of my jewelry style. She sent me these copper spiral earrings and a pair with silver, hammered circles and green stones. I'm so happy that Lisa has agreed to play along again this year. Her designs are something I'm comfortable wearing everyday, and are still fancy enough to wear on the rare occasion that I dress up like a big girl.

I'll never get my sister back, and I'm sure I'll never enjoy my birthday. Now, thanks to Lisa, I have something to look forward to. After reading an email from Lisa today, I found myself thinking of my sister and laughing. I thought of how pleased she'd be that I'd finally picked something girly, something that I enjoy on a regular basis, something that lets me think of her and be happy. Also, she'd probably play the big sister card and "borrow" the earrings indefinitely. That's just how sisters roll.

BTW...

...if you want me to do something, just ask. I'm working on my mind reading skills, but apparently am quite dyslexic.

...if you're upset about something that has nothing to do with me, don't yell at me about that specific thing. I'm sorry that you're upset, I just have no way of controlling things that happen when I'm not around.

...if you don't like the way I do something, tell me sooner rather than later. Sure, you could wait until I'm done and then yell at me for doing things wrong, but isn't it just easier to tell me right away so I can do it your way?

...14.5 hours is a really long work day. I get very tired.

...starting exactly 8 hours after that 14.5 hour work day has ended is hard. I know I'm weird, but I really do like to sleep. Helps me have enough energy to work.

The Christmas Puzzle

Every Christmas my family puts together a jigsaw puzzle. This year Amy bought locally and went with a 1000 piece Seurat painting by Buffalo Games. It's a beautiful painting, but good lord was it hard!

The puzzle was set up at lunchtime on Sunday. Aunt Dot, the puzzle genius, wasn't here this year, so Amy, Jon and I were pretty much left to fend for ourselves. Once the edge pieces were put together, we took to sorting by colors. This was not nearly as easy as you might think. A lot of the shadowed grass that you see along the bottom appeared blue in the individual pieces instead of dark green. The woman on the right has a top very similar in color to the large dog, the two top hats, and some of the other figures. The trees were just plain evil.

By lunchtime on Christmas day, Jon and I had named the characters. The little girl dancing was Zombie Girl (we couldn't find her head), the man in the lower left corner was Stinky French Guy, the man next to Trumpet Playing Guy was Witness Protection Man (we couldn't find any of his pieces for a very long time.) By dinnertime on Christmas day, the wine was flowing, the Amy, Jon and I were talking to the puzzle pieces, and Jon and I were doing our best to keep Things 1-3 from running off with the pieces. It was supposed to be a day off for me, but there's no rest for the nanny when the girlies spot something they're not supposed to play with!

The puzzle was finally finished just before midnight. While it was a relief to finish (especially because Jon was to drive back to Connecticut the next morning,) I was a little sorry to be done. I love the time I spend with my family, and I am thankful that they still want to do puzzles year after year. Hopefully next year we'll find a slightly less insane, but just as challenging puzzle for Christmas. Any suggestions?

Incorrigibility

Yesterday, Nelly over at A Tea Tray in the Sky wrote this post. I read it before going to bed last night, and it's been on my mind ever since. I'm not really sure why. I mean, there's the obvious: I follow Nelly's blog and don't like to hear that anything bad or even inconvenient has happened to her. I've never met Nelly, don't know her real name, don't know where she lives. I wouldn't know which airport to go to if I did offer to pick her up after a flight (which would make it a pretty empty and/or moronic gesture...) So why can't I just let it go?

I love picking friends up from the airport and try to get there at least 20 minutes early so I can people watch at the arrivals gate. The opening scene of Love, Actually sums it up very nicely. I love the way travelers come through gate looking weary and worn until the instant they spot the person meeting them.  The exhaustion and tension melts away and is replaced by happiness that seems to radiate from both parties. Regardless of who the travelers are to each other or where they are in their travels, you get a sense of homecoming.

I can understand that making the trip to the airport can sometimes be a hassle  especially with the reliability of today's flights- just when you resign yourself to every flight being late and let yourself get to the airport a couple minutes after the scheduled arrival, you find out you should have been an hour early because that's when the plane landed! I know that I'm a little nutty for being happy about a delayed flight, but can you blame me? When the plane is late I get to people watch that much longer. What I don't really get is offering to pick someone up from the airport and then not showing up, or any other slight like that. Telling someone you'll show up early to help with a dinner party and then arriving with the first guests, offering to babysit and cancelling 5 minutes before you're expected, or otherwise making commitments you have no intention of keeping. Of course I realize that things happen, unexpected circumstances can keep you from being where you're supposed to be. That, my friends, is why we all have cell phones. Call, text, tweet, face book, anything! Just let someone know you won't be there as planned! I'd rather hear you're not coming than find out after after waiting around for too long because I want to give you the benefit of the doubt.

I guess that's what really got to me about Nelly's post. I want to believe that people are inherently good. I want to see the best in people and think they have the very best of intentions. I don't want to believe that it's possible for people to be careless, hurtful or mean simply because they're too selfish to see beyond their own comfort. I'm not stupid. I know that think kind of thinking leads to disappointment and heartache. I just choose not to dwell on this. I want to hope for the best, to be the eternal optimist, to believe in the goodness of mankind in general. Yes, I'm disappointed often. Friends make fun of me for being too nice and call me a hopeless romantic. My family cautions against heartache and scolds me for letting people take advantage of me and walk all over me. Nothing will ever stop me from hoping, though, because that one moment of joy makes it all worth it. The one time my friend walks through the arrivals gate and sees me waiting, the random act of kindness that allows one stranger to brighten another's whole day, the person who simply does the right thing- that is what I believe in and hope for and when it happens, even once, it makes all the other times worth it.

Cooking with Kids

It takes a special kind of crazy to want to make something with kids. Fortunately for the Raisin, I'm just that kinda nuts. This morning Thing 1 went to school and Thing 2 had to go see the doctor, leaving Thing 3 (the Raisin) alone with Nanny Cait. We tried going outside, but after a trip to get the paper and check the mailbox, her little lips were blue and she was shivering too hard to even say yeah when I asked if she was ready to go in. (And she was dressed in tights, leggings, fleece pants, wool socks, boots, snow pants, a turtleneck onesie, a sweater, a jacket, mittens and a hat. Poor  kid looked like a pink starfish!)

So in we went, warmed up with a couple of stories under a blanket and then the wiggles struck. The Raisin is not the world's most snuggley child. She's a girl of action, and today she came up with her own plan. Knowing her twin was at the doctor, she told me, "Doodle 'prise make." This, for those of you not fluent in toddler, meant that she wanted to make a surprise for the Doodle. The smile on that girl's face when I asked if she wanted to bake cookies was amazing.

I find it's easiest to bake with kids if everything is pre-measured and set up. I put flour, sugars, butter, etc. in bowls, pulled out the Kitchen-Aid and brought a chair over to the counter. The Raisin asked about each individual ingredient. I let her touch a bit of flour and sugar so she could feel the difference, then taste a grain of sugar and a grain of salt. We talked about safety and why it's important to always bake with a big person- at least until you're old enough to be a big person. Lectures over, we began pouring the ingredients one by one into the mixer. The Raisin is a very careful girl and managed almost everything without spilling. The vanilla extract dripped a bit and I was dusted with a cloud of flour when she turned the mixer on high right after adding 2 cups to the bowl, but other than that there were no casualties.

The tough part, but also an awesome teaching opportunity, comes during the actual baking. I won't let the girls eat the raw cookie dough because of the eggs, so patience plays a HUGE part in this project. Not to mention the fact that the cookies are too hot to eat when they first come out of the oven. The Raisin handled this like a pro. I gave her the timer and sent her into the playroom with the instructions to come and let me know when it dinged. Exactly 10 minutes later she danced her way back into the kitchen to let me know I should take the cookies out. I told her to pick a really long song to sing and then the cookies would be cool enough to taste, so she sat down by my feet and sang Baby Beluga all the way through. Didn't stop once to ask for a cookie! When she was done, I picked her up and let her choose which one she wanted. And what did she do? She picked up a cookie, kissed me on the cheek and asked, "Cait want cookie yes peas?" Nanny Cait was proud!