Thankful Thursday

I can't remember whose blog it was where I first saw Thankful Thursday, but I found it during a time when I really needed it. In retrospect, it really wasn't that difficult, and even in the middle of it I knew that my "problems" were sort of, well, ridiculous compared to the real opposition that faces people today. Everyone struggles to adjust to motherhood. In my heart I know that even those amazing women who seemed to make the transition seamlessly had their share of tears and phone calls to their own mothers and feelings of doubt and guilt and anxiety.
Anyway back to Thankful Thursday...so at that point whenever I felt overwhelmed, I would write down things I was thankful for on a yellow legal pad on the kitchen table. I left it on that table where I could read it whenever I wanted. Some days I spent a lot of time at the kitchen table!
So today on my first blogged (is that a word?) Thankful Thursday, I am most thankful for my husband. Duh, right. Isn't everyone thankful for their husband? But mine is exceptional. (Yes I know yours is too, but hear me out) A couple of years ago when we had first moved here to AZ, my Poppa was not in great shape. He frequently would fall, and my Nana hurt herself a few times trying to get him up. One day my Poppa fell and Nana really had no chance of getting him up. Poppa had fallen in the bathroom, and my delicate Nana did not want one of his daughters or granddaughters to see him that way. So she called Loren. He didn't hesitate or claim that it wasn't his responsibility, he just went over there, picked up my Poppa (who was definitely not his usual kind and loving self at this point) and cleaned him up. Loren didn't even tell me about it for a few days. That is an exceptional man.
I'm thankful for his diligent attention to our finances, even when I wish he wasn't so diligent so I could slip a few things in here and there *wink wink*. I'm thankful that he gives me a little break in the evenings by reading to the Little Bee before bed. I'm thankful that he doesn't mention the messy house or the half cooked dinner when he gets home from his own sometimes challenging job. And man am I thankful that he puts his own laundry away....

good bubbles and bad bubbles

Did you know that there are good bubbles and there are bad bubbles? I did not. But now I know that some bubbles are happy and fun and some are just plain old scary. Here's how I found out... The Little Bee got a bubble machine from her Aunt and Uncle and cousins for her birthday. Lately we are not allowed to go outside with out the bubble machine turned on. By not allowed I mean there are lots of shreaks of protest and lately a very emphatic yell of "Buh! Buh!" that come out of my little angel's mouth. Even when she is not playing with the bubbles, she can hear me turn it off and comes running and hollering. So those are the good bubbles.
On to the bad bubbles. Little Bee likes to play around the bathtub while I am getting ready for work, and on this particular day, she tossed the baby shampoo into the tub with considerable force. I didn't know that the top had opened and half of the soap had spilled out until I turned on the bathtub and returned two minutes later to an I Love Lucy sized mound of bubbles. "No use crying over spilled soap" I thought to myself and plunked the little one down in the middle of it all. Bad bubbles! Bad Bubbles! We even scooped out 90% of the bubbles and she still looked at the tub like it was going to eat her. Now I know. Bubble machine bubbles good, bathtub bubbles bad...

Mama Luciana

Right now I think about 30% of the women in my Sunday School class are pregnant. I guess that is what happens when your teacher does a 6 week series on intimacy (insert sly grin and giggle) Luciana is the closest to her due date, so we had a little shower for her on Thursday night. Good friends and good food, what else can you ask for - besides eating candy bars out of diapers and melting ice cubes with our hands, of course. I don't think I will eat another cupcake for a month...maybe a week...okay I ate one for breakfast this morning.

Baby Beans

When my sister and I were little we had these adorable dolls that were filled with beans, so of course they were called our baby beans. Yeah I know, sophisticated naming huh? Hers was orange, mine was yellow (I think).Well, as I'm learning now, sometimes mommies get as attached to toys as babies, and my mom really loved baby beans. That coupled with my mom's obsession with ebay led to this little vintage find for the Little Bee's first birthday. The funny thing about baby beans is that she has a lovely little flap over her cute little plastic tushie...for what reason, I have no clue. However, little vintage baby beans came complete with TEETH marks on her sweet little plastic tushie. Teething children are truly industrious. Charissa's baby beans gets dragged everywhere, thanks to her perfect size and easy handling (ah the wonders of bean filled stuff) and she gets into some interesting predicaments. Imprisoned in the laundry basket...taking a nap in the loaf pan...and of course, getting her poor little bottom chewed by the sweet Little Bee.

Apples + Pears = a minor obsession

I have a minor obsession with this apples and pears fabric. I just can't stop making stuff with it! First I made the awesome Amy Butler domestic goddess apron and I thought it turned out SOOO cute. I know, the picture is so nerdy) Then for some reason I was all about making bibs, so I made a bib and some burp rags for a friend who is having a little girl in August. THEN I still had some left so I made this cute little dress for little bee. What's next? Hmmm...

Cute little camper girl playin' in the dirt! My Aunt told me that she used to just throw away my cousins' clothes when they would come home from camping. I'm beginning to think there's some wisdom in that...

Here we go again

Okay, that was a totally pathetic attempt at starting a blog. One post?!? I must admit, I actually totally forgot that I'd even set this thing up until last week when a friend encouraged me to start a blog to show off my baby girl and my totally awesome craftyness. (Yes Kaylee, you're probably the only person who will read this) So along those lines, I give you a picture of my sweet baby girl in all her dirt smeared campin' girl splendor and a picture of the infamous Ashley apron...when, of course, I figure out how to do that. Grrrr. I told you I am clueless.