Archive | March, 2012

Days 90 + 91

31 Mar

Ah, so it finally happened:  I missed a day.  I’m not that sad, as the reason I missed posting yesterday was because I fell asleep at 7:30pm and stayed asleep.  Whatevs.  So, today, I have pictures of my Easter “crafts.”


First, we have our “Resurrection Eggs“.  I used the printable in that link and bought some plastic eggs from Goodwill.  If you do use this printable, I’d recommend either resizing it to make the ovals smaller or  to get larger (say, goose- rather than chicken-sized eggs).

Not your typical egg yolk, yes?

Each oval has a chapter and verse number, image, and then the verse written out.  I guess the real Resurrection Eggs have little objects (and cost more than $0.50).  

I kept my little ovals attached so I could fold them like a little pamphlet.  Baby’s first tract?

In an effort to not set fire to this entire project and give up some of the perfectionism I have rattling around in me, I decided that I’d keep my too small eggs and simply fold my paper inserts.  Voila.  It fits, and I accomplish letting go of trying to be perfect just a little bit.  It’s an Easter miracle!

I numbered those suckers and then popped them into the tin in the first picture (it had delicious butter cookies in it, rest their scrumptious souls).

So to use these little egg-y delights, you’re supposed to start 12 days before Easter Sunday (either including that Sunday or not), and just go through them one by one with your 3+ year old.  They’re meant to help your young child better understand the Easter season and, obvi, the resurrection.

My experience so far (and yes, we did start several days late… again, I’m not perfect, and it’s totally cool): Zoe is too young.  Or we’ve sucked as parents so far.  She has trouble paying much attention to me trying to go through the verse and relating it to the image.  She mostly wants to open all the eggs.  I think she’ll be at a better age for it next year, but I also think we’ll go ahead and go through the rest of them anyway.  Probably your 2-year-old is totally capable of not being an egg-crazed weirdo for the 5 minutes it takes to go through it.  No, I really mean that.

Tomorrow:  My another Easter craft.  Get over it.


Day 89

29 Mar

I don’t remember a lot of “tradition” type things from childhood. I think maybe I didn’t get as many because we didn’t always travel to my grandparents’ for holidays, or have standing plans with another family nearby, or anything like that.  Actually, most holidays always feel a little sad to me for this reason.  

So, now, here I am with my little family struggling to figure out how to care about traditions and, even more so, panicking a little at the thought of starting some for my children.  

I’m attempting a couple of Easter things to do with the kids.  I’ll post pictures of them tomorrow.  I’m not completely sold on what my kids will get out of it (or, more appropriately, what Zoe will get, as Laz is still a ways away from even totally understanding “no”), but I guess this is how traditions start, right?

Here’s to trying things that are confusing and not within my own history! 

Day 88

28 Mar

I’m thinking a lot about shame today.  Shame and guilt and embarrassment:  The Trinity of Shitty Feelings, as I call them.

It’s really incredible the kinds of things we’re ashamed of.  Family, income, religion, abilities.  Specifically, I have always felt so, so ashamed, embarrassed, and, sometimes, even guilty about not “having” a dad.  I’ve always been upfront with the fact, but I always blush when stating or explaining it.  I feel like I might’ve had a shot at “normal” had it not been for this one little thing.

But why do I feel shame for something I had no control over?  Did I choose to grow up in a single parent household?  No.  Did I make my mom not tell my dad about me?  Nope.  Could I have even done anything to prevent or change this kind of situation?  Uh, no way.  

But I’m still embarrassed about it because I’m different.  Because it’s something that comes up fairly often (less so as I’ve gotten older).  Because explanations aren’t always understood the first time.  Because I might have to remind you that I grew up with only my mom when we’re talking about our lives.

I really hope that one day it will matter less or not at all.  I’m learning that I am worthy even if I don’t fit into the norm.  I’m worth getting to know even if my story’s kind of tricky.  I’m more than this great lacking relationship.  I’m more than my shame makes me feel.

Day 87

27 Mar

I live in a really strange world.  One where women mostly deliver naturally (or try to) and breastfeed and stay home (sometimes part-time, sometimes full-time).  Where everyone I know is a Christian and generally “conservative” or “reformed” or “orthodox”.  Where couples use “Natural Family Planning” and have lots of kids (not necessarily related, mind you!).  Where, at times, everyone else seems to have it together even when they’re broken like I am.

Moms make kombucha and kefir and yogurt and bread and everything else by hand.  Dads are involved with their kids.  Women are rarely single, and there are even fewer single men.  And everyone lives or works downtown.

Why do I keep telling myself this is normal?  Some parts of it are beautiful, of course, but not all of it is representative of even this city as a whole, let alone the whole country or world.  Some of the things I perceive aren’t even true.  Some of it comes from an ugly place.  

Sometimes I can’t keep from comparing myself to others who I deem to have “made it” or have “it” together.  What does that even mean?  I guess I just want to find that one thing that I can do or whatever that will make me feel like I’ve done the right thing.  Like I can look at my life and say, “Yes, I did it; I did blank!”  

Or maybe I’ll just keep trying to make yogurt at home.

Day 86

26 Mar

I had like 30 ideas for what to write today, and now, as I sit here to write, I can’t remember anything.



Maybe tomorrow will bring an actual post with ideas in it.

Day 85

25 Mar

So no craft pictures.  Joe gave Zoe a couple of little wooden birds he found at Michael’s last night.  Well, those were a hit.  Then she found the little birdhouses I want to paint and put in her room.  Suddenly those were also a present to her from us.

And she was enamored with them.  She made the houses talk to each other and kiss; put the birds in them and shook them back out; ran all over the house with them.

How could you not love a girl like her?

BUT, I did clean the bathroom.  Which I hadn’t cleaned since… last year?  Probably.  Oh, wait, it’s only March, so yeah definitely not since last year.  And, since our bathroom is very small, I thought I’d just wash the floors by hand.  As soon as I got to the part where I needed to wash the floors by hand, I was not happy with my decision.  Although, it really only took about 20-30 minutes to scrub the entire room…

and then I came downstairs and ordered a pizza.  OOPS.  I eat like a frat boy in both quantity and quality.

Happy Sunday, all!

Day 84

24 Mar

In keeping with my new motto of, “I can do it!”, I’m starting a craft tonight for Zoe’s room.  This may be the last time I ever utter that sentence in my life, but I’m going to try, damnit!

Maybe I’ll post a picture.  Probably not if it’s just okay; only if it’s a complete wreck or an undeniable success.  No middle ground.