May 21, 2012

Things to love and a bonus

May 21, 2012/ molly balint

1. A pre-bed pile up in the backyard.

2. Embroidered cyanotypes

3. This kitchen scene

Source: thatkindofwoman.tumblr.com via Molly on Pinterest

4. This lovely little path.

5. Forgetting. Then remembering, this CD.

6. This playhouse.

Source: blogs.babycenter.com via Molly on Pinterest

7. This moment that feels so true to my crazy little family, including the begging. And yes, the duck came, too. And seriously, why do they always talk me into getting the big, unweildy truck cart? Because they NEVER ride in it. Obviously.

8. This gave me a chuckle.

9. This is huge.

10. And this, totally inspired me. (via DesignMom

BONUS: Know what I don't love? Stink bugs. If you have no idea what these are, thank your lucky stars. But, seriously, if I get dive-bombed one more time while reading in my bed, or sitting here working at my desk, I may just cry. I'm sorry, but I can't find any reason to be grateful for stink bugs.

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.

But on this day, I think maybe with dough in-hand (and ground into the carpet) I got it right.

I had to dig pretty deep for my playdough recipe. It's always nice to have it handy, so I've shared mine below.

Click HERE to download the recipe card.

April 18, 2012

moleskine + washi tape

April 18, 2012/ molly balint

I'm about to completely finish my first-ever moleskine journal. This is by far not my first-ever moleskine. I've owned several. But between losing motivation or just plain losing them, or never finding a "method" with them that worked for me, I've yet to ever completely fill one up.

But I'm just a few pages shy of finishing up my first. Every page. Almost every blank space. I started it with no real rhyme or reason as to how I would use it. I didn't know if I'd journal in it. If it would only be for my list of three. If it would be my own personal scrapbook to clip, save and tape things into.

Turns out it's been all of those things.

Instead of trying to decide WHAT it would be, I shifted my focus to letting it just be a notebook that was more about time than about what filled the pages. It didn't need to be just one thing or another. It could be everything. And anything.

Though it sounds silly to have that realization about a notebook, the whole thing was pretty freeing to me.

Because I'm a person who really wants to be a journaller. I want to be a scrap saver, a note collector, a list maker, a calendar keeper, an idea brainstormer. But when I tried to force myself to be just one of those things it didn't work.

Instead, I'm a little bit of all of those things.

And instead, my moleskine now chronicles many months of my life--the to-dos, the recipes, the scraps, the notes, the lists, the brainstorms. All of it.

But just a month or so ago, I discovered that there was a way I could organize it just a bit. It's helpful for me to be able to jump back in my notebook and find something I'm looking for. Where I wrote down a phone number. A recipe. Where's that cute note Emma sent Mary on her birthday? Where's my grocery list.

And there are other things, too. With my work at *Babycenter, I use my moleskine each week to write down what posts I plan to write, things I'm thinking of for the future, people I've been in conversation with. But I rely heavily on those notes because it's a ton to remember.

So I had my little inspirational moment a few months ago when I realized I could use my rolls of washi tape to help me find some of the most important, most used pages in my notebook. And hello, a system was born.

Not every page in my notebook gets the washi tape treatment--but the most often referenced ones do. Each Sunday when I'm finished my planning page for Babycenter, I get out my blue plaid washi tape and run a piece along and folded over the outside edge of the page. I do the same for my to-do lists, recipes, and grocery lists. Each with their own colored washi tape. Everything else in between doesn't require tape. That would get both colorful and crazy.

Now, when my journal is closed, I can easily see where each "big ticket" item in my moleskine is. I can get to it easily, and I admit, I kinda like the well-loved look it gives my journal.

I just updated my stash with some new tape from Lotta Jansdotter. The woman knows how to put together a bundle of tape that speaks to me. For my next moleskine, I may just change it up all together and break out new brighter tapes. Who knows. I'm crazy like that. (Though I do love me some yellows, browns and blues.)

It feels good to have it down. To finally have a system in place that works for me.

But I'd love to hear what you guys do. Do you keep a journal? What kind of journaller are you? Are you a list maker? Do you keep your lists all together in one place? I'd love to hear from you, friends.

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Speaking of Babycenter...I'm hosting a giveaway for a great little portable labeller from Epson right now. It will make you passionate about labels.

March 29, 2012

Beware the sound of silence

March 29, 2012/ molly balint

Birdy is whole heartedly at the age where silence in my house means something very mischievous must be happening somewhere.

It's no longer innocent either.

And it usually involves markers.

You'd think I'd learn by now to keep the markers out of reach. And actually, I'm pretty sure I've made some rule about keeping markers in the metal can and keeping the can on top of the bookshelves in the school room.

But when everyone else in the house is up to their elbows in daily art projects and sign-making for bedroom doors, and charts, and secret club sign-up sheets, it's hard to remember to always put the markers away. I guess.

I've learned that the first place to check for her is under tables. If they're covered in a tablecloth, even more secretive and ideal.There will generally be a small collection of toys that don't belong to her. And a marker. Coloring her cheeks used to be her thing. Now, she colors her cheeks and lips, but quickly moves on to decorating the toys, too.

She has also decorated the sofa arm. And inside the towel cupboard in the bathroom. And of course the walls. I've come to expect the wall-decorating.

She highlighted the bookshelf in the living room. As well as running that same highlighter along the binding of each of Dan's books on the top shelf. How kind of her. We appreciate her hard highlighting work, we do.

Two nights ago, after her bath, she discovered the joys climbing into the dryer. To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken her this long to make the discovery. She's a child who likes a "house" to engage in all her mischievous work. It used to a cupboard in the bathroom. My clue would be the towels all over the bathroom floor. And the closed cubpoard doors. And the silence.

But two nights ago when she realized she could very easily climb into the dryer, and it fit several stuffed animals, and it echoed when you squealed inside? She was sold.

When I hung up after a phone call yesterday and realized the house was silent, I began the (slightly panicked) search for Birdy. She doesn't answer when I call for her (something we're working on). And Mary couldn't find her upstairs. I couldn't find her downstairs. Or outside.

Eventually she was discovered in the dryer.

These are probably things I shouldn't admit openly. Losing track of my toddler. Or the damage she does while unattended. But this Birdy is a firecracker. She moves to the beat of her own drum. Determined. Strong-willed. All those things.

And as of six days ago, facing the world as a newly crowned two year old. Here we go.

January 31, 2012

When Birdy went missing.

January 31, 2012/ molly balint

Last week, while I was on the phone with Emily, all the kids were outside playing. Birdy, who jumps at any opportunity to be outside, was standing at my hip crying because she was inside and everyone else was out. When her screaming to go out became too much to talk over, I hung up with Emily long enough to put Birdy in her boots and sent her outside--calling to her sisters to keep any eye on her.

Emily and I continued to talk and I watched as some of the girls wandered back into the house. Finally, much later, Emma came in. Alone.

Where's Birdy? I asked.

She's inside with the girls.

No, she's not. You were watching her outside.

No one told me I was watching her.

And then, there's that parenting moment where you get the immediate pit in your stomach. Deep, deep down you're pretty sure everything is just fine. But in a flash, you've systematically worked through every possible horrible scenario that could happen to your unattended toddler. And what steps you'll take to deal with the emergency. As well as the fact that you haven't showered and if you're going to need to now make a trip to the emergency room, you're looking pretty scruffy and maybe you'll be able to at least wash your hair in the kitchen sink before you go.

Please. Tell me I'm not the only one who manages all these thoughts in course of 12 seconds?

But of course, we found her.

And of course where else would she be but playing in the muddiest corner or our property, where the driveway meets the grass. Where the water gathers after every rain. And mixes with mud and stone and mulch and soil.

And of course, she was wearing one of my favorite sweaters. And her best pair of jeans.