January 21, 2015

Do it! Print your Instagram photos with Chatbooks (and a code for you!)

January 21, 2015/ molly balint

Don't miss a code at the bottom of the post to get your first Chatbooks photo book free.

If you've been following along on my Instagram feed at all, you may have noticed I was having a really horrible week last week--you know, in the Caribbean.

Last week, my scenery was the blue waters, sand and sun of the Caribbean as part of the ClickRetreat which took place on Royal Caribbean's Oasis of the Seas. ClickRetreat is part blogging and social media conference, part photography workshop and part bonding and fun with the other talented folks who attended.

I've returned home with a head swirling with ideas and inspiration and new learning--just what I was needing.

So while I process and figure out how I'm going to share some of that excitement with all of you, I wanted to share one of my favorite finds of the past few months.

I like to think of myself as an early adopter of Chatbooks, but at ClickRetreat this past week, I had the chance to meet the lovely couple behind the company.

If you're anything like me, you're guilty of never, ever printing your photos. For me, it's on my "someday, I really need to get on this" list. The list that I never get to. So Chatbooks is a serious solution to my problem.

If you sign up for their Instagram series, they will send you a 60-page photo book of your Instagram feed automatically. And guess how much it will cost you....$6. Six dollars, people. For a beautifully printed, soft cover book of your Instagram photos.

If you sign up for the service, they'll send you an email once you've filled your 60-photo volume, and they're ready to send out your next book. At that point you have a few days to make any changes, edits or remove photos. A few days later your book will arrive in the mail. Easy!

One of the options you have when making your book is whether or not to have your captions printed below the photos...but I've been opting to have them arrive blank. This allows me to add the personal touch of writing in my own captions, even sharing some things I may not have wanted to share on Instagram.

I have a huge stack of Chatbooks on the bookshelf of my office and it's rare to find them all together--more than likely someone has one in bed with them, or they're out on the kitchen island, or strewn across the coffee table. It's so nice to see my kids enjoying the books and our family's photographs.

Chatbooks is simple, convenient, and they print beautiful quality books at a price that is hard to resist.

Want to try the service for yourself? Use the code Molly1 when you sign up for the Instagram series and you'll get your first book free! Trust me. You want to get in on this. You'll be so glad you did.

October 27, 2014

weekending : sad face + sheep

October 27, 2014/ molly balint

From the weekend:

Testing out my sheep print on some different things. I'm liking this fabric tote. Needs a little something else, but it's definitely taking shape.

I broke my daughter's heart apparently. I wouldn't give her a yogurt stick.

Then, I broke it all over again, when I wouldn't let her spray the piano keys with window cleaner.

My middle child ate more pomegranate seeds than should be legal. And then she ate some more. (A simple how-to de-seed a pomegranate here.)

And we celebrated the birthday of a very special two-year-old with a crazy cake overflowing with animals. And sprinkles. (try to ignore that mess behind-the-scenes, please.)

Happy Monday, friends.

More soon...xo.

July 09, 2013

Washi tape bookmarks

July 09, 2013/ molly balint

My husband and I have very different habits when it comes to reading books. In fact, when I read one of "his" books, he'll often cringe as he hands over the copy to me. "Don't bend back the pages. And please, don't dog-ear the pages." The man babies his books.

I should have known it was trouble when I met him while he was studying for his Masters Degree and underlining his books with a ruler. The man loves books. And takes great care with them.

Me? I'm a bit different. I'm a page dog-earer, a read in bed until I can't keep my eyes open and the book falls to the floor beside me, underline, highlight, write in the margins-kind of girl. When I recently picked up this book by Martha Stewart (side note: Does this mean I'm getting old? I think so.) and she gave me permission right there in the introduction to underline, dog-ear and make the book "work" for me, I showed the words to him with glee. Matha gave me permission.

But good marriages are built on give and take, right? So I've found my new making obsession,

May 30, 2012

Instagram in print

May 30, 2012/ molly balint

There are a lot of things on my list of "Things I wish I was more diligent about". One of those is keeping track of our days in a more everyday way. There's the five year journal I've started and stopped. The 365 projects I've never signed on for. The Project Life series I've never been brave enough to try.

Then there's the notion of my grandmother's scrapbooks kept for her family of 15, full of report cards, doctor's bills, greeting cards, family letters--years and years worth of big, overstuffed leather-bound scrapbooks.

The other thing on my more diligent list is printing pictures. I take a ton of pictures. And now with this shiny little iPhone in my hand, I take even more. But I never, ever print. When Emma was a baby and there was no such thing as digital cameras, I took and printed pictures. Slipped them into albums, captioned each, wrote a few lines, memories. And now the album is falling apart with use and love.

Then, there's Instagram. While I don't do anything so organized as post every day or try to capture anything in particular, it has naturally evolved into this beautiful collection of special moments in my family's day. A trip out, the way they're sitting together at the kitchen table, a typical day running errands, a special moment at the stream. It's unrehearsed. Unposed. Natural. And, honestly, above all, convenient.

So when I recently discovered that Blurb has a bookmaking process that sucks all the photos in your *Instagram stream, right onto the pages of a book I was intriguied. And late one night when there were a million things to do but this thing, I decided to see what it was like.

It was simple. I put them in my book in chronological order. Deleted and moved around a few that I didn't want in there, and basically held by breath and hit publish.

But here's the thing. Just like my personal discovery that my moleskine journal needed to stop being what I thought it should be, and could just be what I needed it to be, I applied that same thinking to this book. I've thought about doing photobooks before but have gotten stuck on the idea of design, captions, and making it perfect.

But while I wanted to see these photos in print, in something my kids could hold in their hands and flip through, I also wanted my personal imprint to be on the pages. So I decided to print every page with nothing else but a photo.

Now with the (beautifully published) book in hand, I'm adding my imprint to the book in the form of captions and dates in my own **handwriting.

And honestly, it's exactly what I wanted. It's turned into the perfect balance of my photographs plus my own hand. Something that I hope my kids will love to flip through and read and enjoy for years to come.

And I hope there will be more.

Once again, I let go of what everyone else was doing, what I thought I should be doing and gave myself the freedom to do what I wanted and needed to do. I needed it to be simple. I wanted it to be personal. And I found a way to capture both.

I'm so happy with the way it's turning out.

*I'm mollybalint on Instagram. Come find me!

**The pen I'm using is this one, which also happens to be my favorite pen, which also happens to be the pen I use in my moleskine, which also happens to be perfect for this as well.

May 07, 2012

When to step back. When to step in.

May 07, 2012/ molly balint

Oh my goodness, hello. Phew, there has been lots of animal drama and changes and excitement around here this past week. I'll be updating very soon, but we're still recovering and regrouping from a crazy-busy weekend. Dan put in 16 hours on Saturday alone, just working on a new project for the girls and me. And he was up again Sunday morning, before church, putting in more time. He's a good, good man. And now a very tired and sore man.

In the meantime, I'm back tracking a bit, to catch up and catch my breath...

With a house full of four girls the dynamics are very interesting to observe. The girls go through so many different phases. Even with the baby, I love seeing how one of her sisters will emerge at different stages to be the one that has what we call the "magic touch". When Birdy was in those early newborn stages, it was Mary. With her gentle hands and cooing whispers in her tiny ears. Then Emma was a master at that crawling, giggly stage--all peekaboo and belly laughs and carrying her outside on her hip to tackle morning chores. Now Birdy and Elizabeth are partners in play, though Birdy's joy when any of her sisters walks in the room is downright contagious.

But the same kind of dynamics happen with my older girls, too. This winter, Mary and Elizabeth were bound at the hip. There were all things dress-up, Little House on The Prairie and dance parties. And Emma was on the outside, feeling a little too old, sometimes left out, and not exactly sure how to jump in.

In the last month or so, there's been a shift again. Mary and Emma are "grown up" best buddies. Sometimes a little too cool, oftentimes too cool for their little sister, Elizabeth, who finds herself waffling between trying to keep up with their "big girl" plans or playing "baby games" with her littlest sister.

As a parent it's sometimes hard to watch. I want to step in and get involved, but I find it's best to sort of let things be, as long as no one is being purposely left out or hurt. As long as no one is being mean or rude, I try to let the changes play out their own way.

But last week, my sweet Elizabeth was feeling out of sorts. Her sisters were either deep into school work, or making big plans for projects and things she wasn't involved in. I could tell she needed a little something special, just for her.

And so I pulled an oldie out of my parenting carpet bag. I knew she needed a project. Needed something to do with me, just the two of us. Something special. So I dug deep into my recipe box (very, very deep) and pulled out an old faded, wrinkled recipe for homemade play dough.

It's nothing new or earth-shattering, I know. But the making of the dough, the choosing of colors, the kneading of the warm dough, was just what she needed. I've always believed there is something therapeutic about making things with kids. It softens hearts, repairs hurt feelings, brings everyone around the table, together.

And that's just what happened. Eventually, her sisters wandered into the kitchen with us--playdough knows no age limits. "Elizabeth, can I play with the green? Elizabeth, want me to get out the cookie cutters? Elizabeth, lets see who can make the best cake out of all the colors." Suddenly the playing field was level again. Everyone was included. And Elizabeth found her place at the table again.

This parenting gig isn't easy. The when to step back, when to step in question always challenges me--whether its letting them work out differences, play out different relationships or solve problems. Whether it's walking a hard line or extending grace.