Bird By Bird

250 words a day.

Over the course of 2014, that would mean writing [...pauses while she accesses the calculator...] 91,250 words.

Sounds like a lot -- and I guess it is -- except that writing the equivalent of a letter to the editor each day really shouldn't take all that much time. And maybe at the end of the year, all those words would add up to having something to say.

It’s like the StoryPeople print that I quoted on my meal-planning board a few years ago: “Everything changed the day she figured out there was exactly enough time for the important things in her life.”

I don’t yet know how to make that quotation real, but maybe this 250-a-day is a good place to start. Maybe carving out  smaller pockets of time will actually stretch the time farther -- spend less time worrying about not having enough time and instead just use all the bits of time that are there.

So often I put off doing things I want to do -- read Anne Lamott's new book, call a best friend, write a blog post, organize a closet -- because I think I don’t have time to do it all at once. What would happen if I savored small doses of all of those things in 10- or 15-minute bites instead of never getting to the big serving of a multi-hour block?

Maybe 2014 is the year to find out.

Pippipalooza 2012: The Party Plan

The greatest challenge about Pippipalooza is that it happens in February. If it were in June, we could have a her party at a park or the pool. But those of you with winter babies know the dilemma of needing to celebrate indoors – pay too much to host a party at some (probably inflatable) venue or risk hosting too many preschoolers in your own home.

Last year we found an indoor city pool that was pretty inexpensive, but this year I decided we could host the party at our house. Seemed like it would cost less than going to a party place, but I could keep the planning to a minimum so that it wouldn’t be too much work. We chose a Rock Star Dance Party theme to incorporate things that Pippi loves best: singing, dancing and dressing up.

Today I will share with you the plan. Tomorrow, I’ll write about what happens when, like most plans of mice and men and moms of preschoolers, those plans do often go awry. For those of you looking for party ideas for kids, read on. For those just looking for the blooper reel, be patient – it’s coming.

I tackled the planning like a good old lesson plan from my teaching days – get organized ahead of time and keep everyone busy during the event to minimize disasters. There were essentially five parts to my plan:

Decorations

To set the tone, we renamed our house “Rock Star Studio.” I used Crayola glass markers (who knew such a thing existed) to decorate the front door with our new name. 

No need to decorate the craft table – all the stickers, gems, crayons, colored pencils, ribbon pieces and glitter glue (mostly courtesy of the dollar bin at Target) provided plenty of decoration for the dining room. I put a bright pink plastic table cloth down first to protect the table and to make clean up easy (I literally rolled everything up in the plastic to clear the table before cake time).

In the family room, we pushed the sofa out of the way and rolled up the rug to make a big open dance floor. My husband graciously blew up balloons in all colors and sizes to bounce around the room and we covered the fireplace with a “shimmer wall” made from metallic and glitter scrapbook background tiles (easier than a disco ball, but the same effect).

Off to the side of the dining room, I stacked the clean table cloth, napkins, paper plates and plastic forks – all matching the adorable Tiny Prints invitations we’d sent. Not that the kids cared, but it made me happy to see them all together with the bright pink tulips Pippi got from her daddy for her birthday.

 

Crafts

Another mom who is wiser than I am hosted her daughter’s 4^th birthday party a couple weeks ago. I learned from her that I would need several crafty projects to keep the kids busy because some of them work really fast (translation: sticker, sticker, and I’m done).

We started by letting the kids decorate their own gift bags – I’d already written their names on paper lunch sacks, then they customized their bags using the mounds of stickers, sticky gems, crayons, colored pencils, ribbon pieces and glitter glue on the table.

Next we handed them a printed outline of a rock star (in pants for the boys, in a skirt for the girls) so they could color it before we taped it around an empty toilet paper roll.  

Meanwhile, my husband took a photo of each kid on the way in and was upstairs printing the photos to cut out and glue in place of the outline face. Instant (hilarious) personalized rock star puppets.

Then we let them decorate the item every rock star needs: a microphone. These mics are actually mini lint rollers (2 for $1) wrapped in black construction paper -- so a project for the kid that becomes a useful tool for the parents later on. Win-win!

And finally, it's just not a rock star party without a way to make some noise. So we filled plastic eggs with dried beans, decorated the outside and voila -- maraca!

Dance activities

As the kids completed their crafty projects, we ushered them into the family room to dress up for the dancing. 

We had plenty of hats, scarves, jewelry, shoes and fancy things from Pippi's dress-up drawer to go around -- plus we gave each kid some bright sunglasses (again with the $1 bin). We also had a tattoo station set up in the kitchen with plenty of butterfly, guitar, robot and fairy tattoos -- just no piercings.

Once we got them all rocked up, we cranked up the kid-friendly, parent-approved tunes to play dancing games. Started with the crowd favorite Freeze Dance, followed by a kinder-gentler twist on Musical Chairs where they passed around some jingle bells until the music stopped. The kid holding the bells was out, but got a piece candy -- and repeat, until all the kids are out. We wrapped up with a free dance to get everyone good and sweaty before cake.

 Cake

I made my first birthday cake for Junius last year, so I figured I could pull it off again for Pippi. I'm not much of a baker/cake decorator, so I opted to use Polly Pocket dolls to stage a rock band on a confetti stage. And thanks to my brilliant husband, who outfitted two of the Pollys with custom (cardboard) electric guitars.

Favors

After we filled them up with cake and juice boxes, we packed all their crafts and sunglasses into the decorated gift bags -- plus a mix CD of some of Pippi's favorite tunes.

And then they all went home.

Picture perfect party, right? Well, sorta. Stay tuned for the stuff they don't tell you on Pinterest...

Catch up on Pippipalooza 2012:

- It's On

- Preschool Musical
- Such a Big Girl
- Behind the Party Scenes
- Blog Post Retrospective

Camping: A Timeline

That's me and my husband at our campsite earlier this month -- photography by Junius, or maybe Pippi. Give or take a few minutes, here's how our first family-of-four camping trip went down:

11:30 a.m. - Leave Raleigh for a two-night camping trip.
12:00 - Stop for lunch at Smithfield's in Clayton.
12:10 - Get back in the car with way too much food.
12:15 - Begin answering the eternal question, "Are we there yet?"
[I'll spare you the itemized count of how many annoying questions we got along the drive.]

3:15 p.m. - Arrive at the ranger station for Hammocks Beach State Park.
3:30 - Leave our car in the parking lot. Load ourselves plus one jogger stroller, one large pack, two large tents, one large duffle bag, one large tote bag, two small backpacks and one cooler onto the ferry. Realize we have a metric ton of stuff to carry.
3:45 - Arrive at Bear Island and disembark the ferry. Eye dark, looming clouds and pray it doesn't storm.
3:47 - Begin walking the half-mile trail to the beach. Thank the heavens and our sweet neighbor for the jogger stroller we borrowed because we've loaded half a ton of stuff into it. Pippi is walking.
4:01 - Arrive at the beach. Buy cold drinks and chips at the snack house. Curse the discovery that they don't sell any other food on the island. Pee while we're at the bath house.
4:19 - Start walking the next half-mile to our reserved campsite. Redistribute the half ton of stuff onto Daddy so that Pippi can ride in the stroller. Thank the heavens for a strong Daddy.

4:36 p.m. - Arrive at the sign for our campsite. Climb past the protected turtle nest, over the dune and down into the valley to our picnic table and tent area. Marvel at how beautiful and quiet it is.

4:47 p.m. - Commence Operation Tent Set Up. Marvel at how patient Daddy is about letting the kids help.
5:18 - Decide we can help Daddy more by going down to the beach.

5:26 p.m. - Decide that I love beach camping because we have the whole place to ourselves and my children are so happy that they pretend to surf. They race in and out of the water's edge in complete bliss. I forget all my worries.
6:14 - Climb back over to our campsite. Make sandwiches and fruit for dinner. Wonder if we brought enough food.
6:58 - Walk back down to the beach. Because we can. Because it's right there. Because it's still light out and we know these kids are not going to fall asleep yet.
7:45 - Realize we're going to wear out before they do. Corral kids down to the bath house for showers and pajamas. Carry them back to the campsite in a futile attempt to keep them from getting sandy.

9:15 p.m. - Daddy emerges from the tent victorious in the battle of Kids vs. Sleep. We enjoy the quiet darkness before trying to brush the sand from our feet and squeezing into the tent to join them.

12:35 a.m. - I climb out of the tent to pee. In the dune, of course, because no way am I walking a half-mile alone in the dark to use the bath house. Lean back into the tent, brush the sand off my feet, rearrange myself next to my family and fall back to sleep.
12:40 - Unbeknownst to the rest of the family, Daddy decides we will only be staying one night.
2:15  - I get up to pee again. Dune, brush, rearrange, sleep.
4:23  - Curse my post-maternity bladder. Get up to pee. Again.

5:45 a.m. - Pippi sits straight up, smiles and declares, "Good morning, Daddy!"
5:45:30 - Junius bounces up and announces "I love beach camping!"
5:45:45 - We pretend to be sleep, hoping desperately that they're both talking in their sleep. It doesn't work.
5:53 - My husband turns to me and says, "I'm just going to say this out loud. We don't have to stay the second night." I am both amazed (because things were going better than I expected) and relieved (because I wasn't sure how long we could last).

6:12 a.m. - We walk down to the beach to watch the sunrise. It's beautiful and peaceful and magical enough to make us forget (for a moment) how tired we are.
6:45 - Return to campsite for breakfast. Fight off hungry bees.

6:55 a.m. - Junius writes in his track-out journal: "I see Trtll Eggs. Thea are in a Net. I like it. I saw The sun Rise today." He draws an adorable picture of a turtle ("Trtll") beside a little cage with circles in it, more or less like the protected nest at the entrance to our campsite.

7:21 a.m. - Pippi entertains herself with the digital camera and her newly acquired shell collection.

7:38 - Walk down to the bath house so I can wash my hands and remove the sandcastle that has wedged itself under my left contact lens.

8:02 - Walk back to our campsite, this time with the ability to see where I'm going.

10:07 a.m. - I attempt to teach the kids how to make drip castles while regaling them with stories of how their Pop Pop used to teach me when I was a kid. End up making drip castles alone until they are crashed by the rising tide.
11:35 - Scavenge for lunch from what's left in the cooler. Trust that the squishy Babybel cheese is still safe to eat. Thank husband for deciding to head home early so that we don't have to go back over on the ferry to buy more groceries to bring back over to the campsite.

1:17 p.m. - Engage in major battle with Pippi about wearing her sun hat. Laugh at how adorable Junius looks in his sun hat -- like a sandy little member of the French Legion. Note to self that dermatologist would be proud of us (okay, maybe not of my swimsuit, but I am COATED in sunscreen).
2:15 - Begin packing up all our stuff. Wonder how we will find the energy to carry it all back to the ferry. Wish we had brought a strong, child-free friend with us to help.
3:15 - Loaded like pack mules and grateful (again) for the jogger-stroller-turned-luggage-wagon, we start back down the beach toward the bath house.
3:21 - Realize we'll never make the ferry if Pippi has to walk. Redistribute load from the stroller so that Pippi can ride. Force her to hold the clean bath towels because there's nowhere else to put them.
3:23 - Fuss at Pippi for letting the clean bath towels fall into the sand.

3:24 p.m. - Realize that Pippi is down for the count (note the puffy cheeks and pouty lip).
3:36 - Rinse off in the outdoor showers at the bath house, change the kids out of their swim suits and race off down the path toward the ferry.
3:52 - Board the ferry. Breathe.

If you've actually made it through this whole timeline, I'll reward you by wrapping up quickly: load into the car, find a restaurant for dinner, marvel at Junius as he scarfs down a plate full of fried shrimp without taking a breath, cruise through Swansboro, drive back to Raleigh, unload the car, crash in our comfy, mostly-sand-free, fully air-conditioned beds.

Success.
.

Wash. Dry. Fold. Put Away. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

This photo shows you what my clean, freshly folded laundry looks like. Can you tell that I worked retail in high school and college? 

But the real genius of this photo isn't in my ability to fold shirts as if they were wrapped around a clipboard (without actually having to use a clipboard). It's the location of these shelves. 

I'll give you a hint: it's not my closet.

This is my new, brilliant idea for reducing the number of steps in the laundry process.

Maybe you're better at laundry than I am. But more often than not, I get all the clothes washed and dried, most get folded (eventually), some get put away in dressers and closets (occasionally). And nearly every time, there's one straggler load that languishes in the dryer, where the rumpled clothes lie completely forgotten until the next round of laundry cycles through.

But these shelves? They could change everything.

No, they're not magic. They're in my family room.

These shelves are part of the beautifully remodeled wall in my family room, which is conveniently located beside my laundry room. I'm thinking that if I just designate certain shelves to each family member, then I can fold and store all our clothes in here.

That way nothing has to get carried upstairs, nothing has to get put into drawers -- and when I'm rushing the kids to eat breakfast and get dressed before school, everything will be right there where they can see it!

Plus, it will provide seasonally accurate decorations for the room -- as our wardrobe moves from winter to spring, the colors in the bookcases will adjust accordingly (note the Christmas jammies in the photos).

The only real flaw with this plan? Where am I going to put all my books?

Living Crazy on a Sunday

Yesterday I did two totally crazy things. Both fleeting, but very satisfying in completely different ways.

First, I sat in a lounge chair at the pool.

See, I told you it was totally crazy. And by "sat in a lounge chair," I mean that I actually sat by myself with no one in my lap or pulling on my arm or begging for snacks and just lounged. Pippi was playing happily by herself in the baby pool while Junius was in the big pool with my husband. So I just sat there, in the lounge chair, and watched her. It was a short, but lovely glimpse into a future with growing, independent children.

Second, I washed my washing machine.

I know, wild, right?! Who knew you were supposed to do that? But apparently you are and I did and now I can believe that my clothes are even cleaner than they were before. Phew.

Watch out, world -- there's just no telling what sort of craziness I might get into next.

Photo is a totally gratuitous cute baby shot of the last time Pippi lounged at the pool. I think she was almost four months old at the time. I'm so glad it's finally my turn now and then.

Hot Potato, Hot Potato

This video is awesome. Not only does it feature Mary Ann from Gilligan's Island (who seems really, really happy about living in Idaho), but it's the niftiest way to peel a potato I've ever seen. As someone who loves to eat potatoes in nearly every form, I may have to give this trick a try.



Thanks to Grandpa for sending!

Firsts Night

Saturday night was a momentous one filled with "firsts" for our little family. The big event was Junius's first camping trip -- he went to Hanging Rock State Park with his dad and Grandpa (my FiL). They hiked to a waterfall (see photo of Juni and Daddy), rowed in a boat and slept in a tent during an overnight rainstorm. Juni had a blast, and the big guys had fun sharing the experience with him and each other.

Pippi and I stayed with Nonna (my MiL) while the guys were out roughing it. We took naps (or at least they did while I got some contract work done), went shopping, ate dinner in a restaurant and slept in our beds. It was lovely and civilized -- and too bad that Pip isn't yet old enough for pedicures at the salon.

But even though we weren't out camping, Pippi and I still had our share of firsts...

• It was Pippi's first night without Junius since we brought her home from the hospital. Seems funny to imagine, but in her whole life (minus the first couple days), she's never had dinner without her brother, never had breakfast without her brother, never gone to bed without her brother in the next room. She had an unusually tough time in the restaurant during dinner -- could have just been crabby, but I honestly think she was starting to miss Junius. She was VERY excited to see him when they returned home on Sunday.
  
  
• It was possibly my first night in almost nine years without saying goodnight to my husband. We've certainly spent nights apart because of business travel or weekends with friends, but I don't think I've ever gone to bed without at least saying goodnight to him. Felt really strange and kind of icky.
  
  
• It was probably the first time I went 24 hours without talking to my husband. I expected to get a call sometime during their trip since both my husband and Grandpa had their cell phones with them. When I didn't hear from them, my brain leapt straight into the deep end -- car wreck, bear attack, rock slide, lightning strike, whatever irrational disaster you can think of. The rational part of my brain told me they simply didn't have any reception in the park (which turned out to be true), but sadly that tiny part was no match for all the crazy scenarios that nearly drove me over the edge waiting by the phone. I was so relieved to see them arrive home on Sunday that I proceeded to yell at my husband for not making a Herculean effort to call me and tell me that they were neither injured nor dead.
  
  
• It was only my fifth night away from Junius (out of 1,483 days in his life) -- of the other four, one was a getaway with my husband (so luxurious and restful!) and the other three were spent in the hospital when Pippi was born (neither luxurious nor restful). Don't get me wrong -- I'm looking forward to a night away from both of my children sometime this year, but it still just felt weird not to see him, tell him good-night, tuck him under his blanket before I went to bed.

The good news about all of this is that Junius has convinced his dad that they should bring Pippi and me along on the next camping trip -- might be the ONLY way I'll ever get invited to camp again with my husband (I'll save that story for later, but let's just say the first trip didn't go well and may have caused him to reconsider his intentions to marry me). Honestly, I'm not a huge fan of sleeping on the ground, but at least I won't be waiting by the phone if I get to go along for the ride.

What would happen if I just put my hand here?

Last weekend we took Junius to see the N.C. Symphony's Summerfest concert with Cirque de la Symphonie. It was a big night out for the three of us -- we left Pippi at home with a friend from the babysitting co-op because we knew she'd a) never sit still for the concert and b) need to go to bed about the time the show was starting.

The amphitheater was packed when we arrived and got more crowded as the night went on. But despite the lack of space and lack of a clear view (more on that in another post), we had a nice time eating our picnic and watching the show.

If you're not familiar with Cirque de la Symphonie, it's kind of like Cirque de Soleil in front of a symphony -- acrobats, dancers, jugglers, and the like. The performers are mind-bogglingly (did I just invent an adverb?) strong and graceful, dangling from the ceiling on ribbons and hoops or balancing on tiny stools and each other.

So here are my questions: After you've done all the strength training and gymnastics training and so on, how do you make the leap to saying to your friend...

"Just hold still --
I'm going to do an upside-down one-armed push-up on your head."

Or "I think I can spin three *more* hoops..."


Or "I'm sure I could wrap these sheets
around my wrists and fly..."

For more photos and a video to get the full effect, go here. In the meantime, I'll be training with Junius and Pippi for the next tour. I'm pretty sure I can juggle both of them at the same time.