A loved bear...

If you know my family or if you've been reading this blog for the last year, you're sure to know all about Bunny, Mary Jane's very expensive lovey that I had to replace last fall. She still carries it with her most places that she goes. Before there was Bunny, or even Mary Jane or Charlotte, there was simply Mason and Rooty Bear. Rooty Bear was a gift from a friend in Vancouver. He arrived soon after we brought Mason home. A little red bear that has bearly been able to withstand all of the love that he has received through the years.

I once spent 40 minutes back-tracking through the streets of San Francisco when we realized that Rooty Bear had fallen out of the stroller. I actually cried when we found him. On Monday, I spent an hour doing some repair work on the poor bear. He was about to loose an arm and a leg, Mason was not happy about it. For better or worse, Rooty Bear is made of fabric, not fur. When Charlotte was about 6 months old, I realized that she had a little pair of pants that matched the fabric. I'm still cutting those pants up for patches. Mason now makes a point of leaving his bear in his bed each morning. I don't miss the bed time Rooty Bear hunts. He seems so tiny and fragile now, Mason told me that I now need to patch his face and maybe make him some new ears.

I don't know why our kids get so attached to certain objects, but if a little red bear or a $77 bunny from ebay brings some comfort to my child, than I will patch or pay to keep everyone happy. So today's latte, from a house that needs to be disinfected because we've had too much coughing and sickness here this week, is to realize that sometimes there is no substitute for a bear or a bunny or a real latte with lots of caffeine!

What do you see?

Let me start this post with a story about me and my husband. We first met as co-workers 12 years ago. Not long after we met, we went to a team building meeting and one of the activities was to look at a painting and list what we saw. I saw a clock, Rob saw anguish. It's often good that we have more than one perspective on things. We now have an abstract painting that hangs on our dining room wall. We got it at an arts festival in Denver, and the other night our kids started telling us what they saw in the painting.

Mary Jane saw a rocket, Charlotte saw a lady with "broom brush" feet, and Mason saw a gun. I don't mean that in a violent or disturbed way, he literally sees a gun in the painting. I never noticed that there is a silver outline that looks alot like a gun. Now I see it every time I look at the picture. As Rob says, he is my son. He and I have the same literal perspective on many things. We crave the same sense of order (despite my chaotic house), we both fear change, and we both remember all of the details.

My son and I are so much alike that, at times, it is hard for us to communicate effectively with one another. He is spending the night with a friend tonight, and I miss having the chance to tuck him in - stalling tactics and all. Tonight's latte (or blueberry martini as the case may be) is to pay attention to what your children see. Even if they share your perspective on most things, they might help you see something new.

This old house, again

There is a mountain of mulch in my front yard. Our neighbors had a tree taken down, and we asked for the woodchips. Be careful what you ask for! Don't get me wrong, we'll use every bit of it, but we need it in the backyard which is proving to be alot of work. Rob (with the help of my dad's old station wagon) is doing an amazing job of getting it all into the back yard. In the process of all of our new landscaping, we're adding the sandbox that we've talked about under the tree fort. Who knew that we had such a great backyard? Instead of composing an entire new latte about the joys of my house, I decided to reprint one from last November. Here it is...

Our house was built in 1954. We bought it in 2005 from the original owner. By mid-2008 we started to like it. Yes, it is a typical ranch, fixer-upper, money-pit; but it's home. When we bought the house, Charlotte & Mason were 1 and 3 and Mary Jane was on the way. I was frustrated that it wasn't our "dream house." My mother told me that most people don't buy their dream houses, they buy a house and live into it. There is some wisdom in that, maybe even a latte.

Dream houses belong to adults, not their small children. This has become Mason's dream house because he has a huge tree-fort in the backyard thanks to Uncle Lou. The girls love the fact that my bathroom has a pink toilet, tub, and sink to match the tile on the walls. For better or worse, I've actually come to like the fact that I don't need a baby monitor to hear my kids in the middle of the night. There will always be plenty of projects around here, some big and some small.

My latte is this, when you're thinking about your dream home, think about your dreams. My dream is to have a beautiful space for a Christmas tree and plenty of room for all of my family to enjoy each other and their toys, a kitchen that can be a gathering place, and a cozy room to sit and watch TV. When I look past the clutter and dust, it looks like I just might be living my dream.

Fashion Fun for Girls

It's now fall. The leaves are changing color and just waiting to be raked from our yard. They'll probably be there for a while. Here in Atlanta, the weather is finally starting to cool off a little bit. The big fashion excitement for my girls, ages 3 and 5, is that tights season has begun. They get so excited to pick out just the right combination of striped tights, a flower covered skirt, and a polka dot shirt to start the day. As the person who purchased most of these items, I can only sit back and tell them how colorful they look.

After Charlotte was born, it didn't take long for me to realize how much fun little girl clothes could be. They're much more interesting than the clothes for boys. I loved finding cute and cuddly little outfits and dresses for her to wear. Right around her 2nd birthday, something strange happened - she developed a very strong opinion about what she wore. Gone were the days when I could dress her (as I could Mason) in whatever I wanted. We started having daily battles over getting dressed each morning. I began buying more dresses to eliminate the need to mix and match. As she walked into preschool one day at a age 2 1/2, one mother commented that little girls should have buttons they could wear stating "I dressed myself today."

I've relaxed alot in the 2 years since. While I do like it if my girls manage to keep outfits to one or 2 patterns per day, it's alright if they don't. As long as they put on a jacket when it's cold, everything else is alright. My latte today is something I've said before, enjoy your child's creativity and pick your fashion battles carefully. They're just having fun with the tools that you've provided, which, in the case of my girls, is a closet full of mix and match pieces from the consignment sale at the preschool.