How a photograph is presented can make all the difference. With a certain project in mind I have been keeping my eyes open for ideas and had to share. Here are my three favourite finds:
1. Love the colours and layout of this.
2. Doesn’t this just make you happy?
3. Totally doing this. Love love love. xx
“How are things with you? (as I dismiss all conversational etiquette by avoiding eye contact as I watch my suspicious toddler like a hawk) Oh good, that sounds lovely- Stop! No! You know you are not allowed. So do you get to go often? What did I say? I said no didn’t I? Put it down. Good boy. I’ve not been there but I’ve heard all good things about it. I’d like to- Hello and how are you? What’s that? Yes, wheels. Watch the wheels go round and round. He loves wheels.”
Isn’t it great to be with people who know how to stop/continue conversation without being thrown by the interruptions?
Sometimes I wonder how much of a conversation I miss out on when I’m torn as referee to my son making sure he behaves well and being a part of a social circle. Sometimes I wish I could convince people I really did have a life before motherhood but then again, isn’t this a grand life? x
With only a short time left before the next little boy arrives, I am getting baby-anxious. Am I ready? I think so, I have everything I need since I am having another boy, but I still feel this baby deserves his own new stuff. Fun stuff. And it will keep the excitement on the up side of things. Plus. I want it all homemade.
Here are 3 of my favourite ideas:
Decorate a frame (or leave it plain) and add a fun photo of him while he’s still so little. And then add his name under the photo like this. Which reminds me, we need to decide on a name!
Must find time to sew! My mom is the queen quilter, but when I give it a go, the 9-patch is all I can do so this idea looks perfect. I am loving the boyish prints and colours of this rag quilt, I’d like to make a crib pocket organiser with this theme in mind.
There is something timeless and charming about wooden alphabet blocks. Sitting on a shelf spelling out something fun would be oh. so. cute. With some books next to them. And a teddy bear. xx
Ethan before his date still in jammys!
My son is under 2 years old, BUT I can still teach him about dating. Perhaps not so much the moral aspect of it, that can and will obviously wait until it is relevant, but I want my son to start good habits now.
Sometimes we do playdates. I have a checklist in my head that I go through to make sure he is ready for his ladies in waiting. We start at the top.
smell nice via baby lotion.
fresh, clean nappy.
nice, clean clothes.
and a flower.
I remember dating in my younger years and we girls used to talk about guys and their hygiene- yes we did! Some of us notice everything, and I am positive guys do the same with us girls!
Dating is fun. And even better when hygiene doesn’t spoil it. And really, who doesn’t love getting a flower from their date? 🙂
Photo taken of me and Emma in 2006
In 2006, me, my two sisters and our mom
My sister is here from America visiting for a few months. It is so nice having her around, or just knowing she is around! This week I dedicate this post to SISTERHOOD.
Three things my sisters have always shown me:
1. LOVE. A sister will always think you are beautiful and worth the very best.
2. KINDNESS. A sister will always hold your hand and know where to go when you feel lost.
3. LOYALTY. A sister will always be one of your closest friends.
“What about your dad?” A classmate asked.
“I don’t have one.” She answered back.
“Everyone has a dad, whether you like him or not.” The classmate replied.
“How can he still be a dad when he’s not here?” She grew agitated at the classmate’s persistence. The conversation dropped as she looked away and ignored him. It was always the same dead end dialogue she gave. Even if questions were inevitable, answers simply did not exist. Where is he? Don’t know. Why did he go? Don’t know. What happened? Don’t know. What was he like? Don’t know. Only one question had an answer, when was the last time you saw him? She was four.
She remembered standing shyly in her nightgown behind the wall peeking out of the side at him. He was sitting on the sofa with her mother watching television. There was something she had to do. Her teacher at school had challenged the children to tell their dads “I love you” before Fathers Day and they were all to report back their experience. The challenge had weighed on her mind all day. Knowing she’d be in trouble soon for sneaking out of bed, she gathered all her courage, took one step out from behind the wall and quickly shouted “I love you dad!” He looked over at her, and she ran back to her bed relieved it was over. But sleep did not come. She had hoped he would return the exclamation with a hug and maybe tuck her in for the night. She waited and waited, but no one came and eventually she fell asleep heavy hearted.
That memory was such a long time ago. There was so little she remembered about him. Cologne. He wore a musky cologne. Usually on the weekends. Shoes. He had a lot of shoes in the hallway. More than her mom had. TV. He was always watching television. Especially the weather channel. She remembered she had to always be quiet. And not stand in his way. Now that she was much more grown up she concluded he was nothing more than a jerk.
She was unsure of what happened when he disappeared. Like he was there and then not. But life just seemed to go on without him. Nothing dramatic except the emotional imbalance she felt with his absence. His chair at the dinner table left empty. His closet space now left empty. His shoes in the hallway now gone. Her mother never spoke of it. She dared not ask any questions or show any curiousity, afraid to upset her mother. Afraid she might disappear too. So she just pretended everything was normal. But every year when Father’s Day came round, she remembered that night her love was unreciprocated and a lonely void in her heart ached.
“Everyone has a dad” her classmate had said. She disagreed. A dad is someone who takes you to the park, tucks you in at night, talks to you about your day and always says I love you with a big hug. That’s a dad. When a bit more grown up, he gives his child counsel, attends your graduations and is included in the photographs that will someday sit in a photo album on a coffee table. Maybe he might even walk his child down the aisle so she doesn’t have to alone. That’s a dad. Someone who cares and spends time with his kids. Not everyone has a “dad”. Her classmate was wrong.
But it was okay. She had her mom, and she believed her mom would always be there. She thanked God in her heart for her mother.
One day a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people live.
They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.
On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, “How was the trip?”
“It was great, Dad.”
“”Did you see how poor people live?” the father asked.
“Oh yeah,” said the son.
“So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?” asked the father.
The son answered: “I saw that we have one dog and they had four.
We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.
We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.
Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.
We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.
We have servants who serve us, but they serve others.
We buy our food, but they grow theirs.
We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them.”
The boy’s father was speechless.
Then his son added, “Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are.”