Going home + a list

Hello, friends. Easing back into this space with a list of things that are striking my fancy. 

• Despite my love of old houses, I can really geek out over projects like this. 
• She makes for good 'working at my desk' music.
• I love the idea behind "We Are The Contributors". This month's mini project theme is paper. I think I may join in.
• marimekko + kids = love. (even this!)
• I love this simple idea for grocery lists, to-do lists, or even kid scratch paper.
• I'd love to figure out how to do a version of this artwork for the girls' room.
• I want to make one of these.
• I'm currently knitting this for Birdy who is suddenly wearing my homemades again.

*The photo above is the house I grew up in. Sorta has a Woodlawn feel doesn't it? This Saturday I went home for a 'celebration of life' for a very close childhood friend. Though he is rapidly losing the battle to ALS, he decided that to celebrate LIFE and bring together the people he loves now, instead of after he's gone. I admit to really dreading the weekend--the uncomfortableness of why we were getting together, seeing people I haven't seen in years, worrying about the 'right' things to say in a situation like this. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that all my fears were all about me. And this celebration had nothing to do with me. My friend is one of the bravest people I know. He is facing this with courage and grace. And I am so grateful to him for bringing us all together, truly, to celebrate. 

More soon...xo.

Elevate the small

That quote stuck with me several weeks ago when I was feeling bogged down in the big philosophical questions of motherhood. And while it is important to parent with the big picture in mind--What kind of person will my child become? Will they make good decisions later in the life? Will they be a good person? Am I doing a good job?--it's also important to just settle in to the little things. There can be just as many important moments in the washing of jam off little cheeks, sing-a-longs at stoplights, tucking hair behind ears, and brushing teeth.

There's nothing like mothering through difficult patches to bring out every insecurity and worry about whether or not you're doing it right and doing right by your child. 

But this one little quote burst that balloon full of doubt and worry and what-ifs that I was facing a few weeks ago. My mind had raced so far down the path of the future, I was forgetting to just do the little things really, really well. 

That, I can handle.

---

The quote comes from this article, 8 Reminders for Mindful Parents.

Sledding on the farm is no joke

If one thing has become clear in the past few days, it's that my family does not fool around when it comes to sledding. After the winter of last year, where hardly a flake fell to the ground, we're taking full advantage of the powder covering the hills this year. 

The back hill on my grandfather's farm has some serious hills. Though I feel like none of my pictures quite capture the breath-taking terrain (and I mean that in both the beauty and the "you want me to sled down THAT?") it is the ideal sledding spot. 

The perfect place to send your toddler whizzing down the hill on a round plastic disc. 

If the speed of the hill and wipeout potential doesn't get you, then the stream snaking through the bottom of the hill or the small pond on your left might. Not to mention the concrete cattle waterers. 

My husband errs on the side of "kids have been doing this forever, they'll be fine." while I would like to micro-manage every send off and be sure I'm sending them down the hill in a path to land perfectly between pond and stream. 

One of the things that I love about watching this, is to see my kids' personalities emerge on the hill. One is fearless. One will try it once or twice, but that's plenty for her. One just goes and goes and goes and loves to talk about how much each lump and bump hurt. 

But there was one sledder among us, who doesn't fool around. 

Waxing up the runners. We're not fooling around here, people.

Lord help me be this adventurous and nimble at 84. Let me still be climbing on sleds and hoofing it back up the hills. 

I'm pretty sure my grandfather loves this just as much as the small sledders. 

When the hill seemed like it just wasn't fast enough or sending people far enough, things got serious. 

The tractor came out.

A path was packed down and suddenly my dear children were skidding down the hill on a trail of new speeds and distances.  (If you look closely at the picture above, you'll see my oldest daughter climbing out of the stream bed.) Everyone needs a good sledding story, I tell her. Mine involves a big hill, a jump and a tailbone so bruised I missed two months of my high school basketball season. 

After sledding, we came inside for a dinner of steak and warm soup and a celebration of Robbie Burns's birthday (more on that soon.) and between dessert and hot chocolate everyone was back on the hill, sledding by moonlight. 

I'd lose sight of them about halfway down the hill and throw out a little prayer that they were fine at the bottom--made obviously clear when I'd hear whopping and laughing from the darkness.