Jim

When I was a kid, I had a forever best friend. Shanna. It seemed that I couldn't spend too much time with her. I think I was at her house all the time, running up and down her very cool 80's spiral staircase, ice-skating, swimming in her pond or spying on her older brother, Chris. I loved going to her house because she had real Barbies. She was funny and fun and I think she thought the same of me. I made fun of her for putting ketchup on her mac and cheese and she made fun of me for putting milk on mine. I still think she was weirder. I'm guessing our parents must have grown weary of hearing the same series of questions after church every Sunday:

"Can I go to Shanna's (Jill's) house?"
"Can Shanna (Jill) come over?"

Shanna and me in our matching "jams" shorts

(and Misty the cat)

Our parents were good friends as well. Our moms spent time together and that suited us kids perfectly. Donna (Shanna's mom) was a color fashion consultant at the time and my mom was (and still is) fascinated by what colors we can and should wear. (Remember when we all had our "colors" done?) Shanna and her mom were always out in front of the fashion trends (well...for Nebraska), so when Shanna got her girl mullet, I had to copy her and get one too.

Inevitably my family moved away when I was 10 and though I viewed moving to Florida as a grand adventure, I knew I would miss my friend. And I did. There were many tears of a sad heart in my new home. We wrote letters back and forth and exchanged birthday and Christmas gifts for years. Eventually the letters became fewer until we finally lost touch after college. I had heard that her parents moved to Kansas. Life moves on.

Shanna and her family visited us a few years after we moved

I remember the summer day in 1998 my father told me that Jim, Shanna's dad had passed away. Jim and his younger brother Stanley were flying the company Sabreliner home from a job and the plane crashed in the flint hills of Kansas. Their wives were waiting for them at the airport. My heart hurt for my long lost friend and her family. I remember my parents being very sad and shocked. I know there is never any easy way to lose someone you love so much, but I can't imagine how hard it is when you don't get to say goodbye. To this day my father still talks about Jim with amazing respect, "He was such a solid, cool guy and he loved the Lord."

Once upon a time, due to the blessing and curse of social media, Shanna and I found each other again. Over time, as we became reacquainted, I began to realize why we were such good friends as kids. I began to understand why our parents were good friends. Each time we converse, she has my side aching from laughter. We still have the same sense of humor; we both love cake; we both love art. We both love to claim the "mother of the year" award when we've had an epic fail. We share our joys and sorrows with each other and we pray for each other and our families.

Shanna emailed me a few weeks ago and asked me to make her an apron. I've made her aprons before, but this was a special apron request. She found a dress shirt that belonged to her father tucked away in her closet and decided she wanted an apron made from it. The request put tears in my eyes. What a beautiful idea to remember her dad!

"My dad was extremely creative and a tremendous artist. I always prided myself with the fact that I got all my creative genes from my dad. Three to four years ago, I started this cake business. I know he'd be my biggest fan. His two loves were art and sweets...fitting, huh? Now every time I make a cake and wear the apron, it'll be like a little piece of him is with me."

"My husband never met him...he died four years before we met, but I talk about him so much that it's as if he did know him. My boys all talk about Papa Jim like they saw him yesterday. They know everything about him and yell, 'HI PAPA JIM!' every time we drive by a cemetery. Makes me laugh and smile every time. I just think it's so important to keep those memories alive."

As soon as I got Shanna's shirt in the mail, I couldn't wait to start on it. She mentioned that she didn't have any half aprons, but I liked the idea of using the front and collar to make sure it maintained the shirt look. I decided to make the top half removable so she can choose which way she wants to wear it.

Shanna said that she wishes I had been able to know her dad more. Having my parents talk about Jim and Donna with such respect and love gives me a little insight into the incredible man he was and the kind of life he led. As a kid, I saw him pretty much as my friend's dad. I guess, when you think about it, that says it all. He is my good friend's dad, and she's pretty amazing. I look forward to meeting up with him in heaven some day to thank him for the incredible opportunity of knowing his daughter.

______________________________________________________________

some of Jim's artwork

Jim and his beautiful family

James Donnell Roth

Jan 3, 1943 - July 18, 1998

happy green day!

I don't really see the point of St. Patrick's day other than another of our nation's days to get completely smashed, but the kid's love the green day and have been planning what they will wear to church on the 17th (I wonder what the pastor will wear). We have a good old fashioned potluck after church and I thought it'd be fun to go with the theme of the day.

I love pistachio. Pistachio is green. Pistachio cupcakes + pistachio frosting = pistachio perfection.

To offset the GREEN all over, I added some sparkly purple sugar.  I'm pretty happy with color combo.  I'll have to do it again.

Happy St. Patty's Day! Eat green cupcakes instead of drinking green beer, though neither is terribly healthy.

picky picky picky

My younger daughter can't seem to remember what foods she likes.

Monday and Tuesday she begs for orange juice for breakfast.  By Friday, "I don't like orange juice!" exclaimed with big crocodile tears and with her most feel-sorry-for-me voice.

"I want water," sniff. I suppose that water is much better for her than orange juice, but it drives me nuts when she can't seem to make up her mind until after I pour a glass for her.

Last Wednesday she loved spaghetti; a week later she doesn't like the same sauce. Tacos? Don't get me started.

If you have more than one child, I know you have one just like her.

My very innovative sister mentioned in passing that she felt like making a list for her very picky kid, so I decided it was a brilliant idea for my 4 year old. I just started the list this morning, so I'll add to the list when I think of more things. I decided to leave off her daily diet staples like Goldfish crackers and Lucky Charms (Yes, I did win health advocate of the year). And I hope the list turns into a book some day (ha ha), but for now, I'm just happy to have a few things that she can't argue about. At the very least, instead of "I don't like that," I'll teach her to say, "I'm not in the mood."

the life of a princess

Ahhhh, the life of a princess - it must be wonderful! Just look at the fairy tales. In almost all the popular stories, the beautiful heroine is in one or more of the following situations: kidnapped or forced to leave her home, orphaned, locked in a tower, raised by a non-parent, enslaved or homeless, or she's just bored and sells her soul for a pair of legs. Sounds glamorous, doesn't it? Most of the princess movies I watch, I get to the happy ending and think, "that poor girl is going to need years of therapy."

Well, as problematic as the princesses' lives are, we girls are obsessed with them and the happily ever after. And why not? There's nothing quite as fun as dressing up and feeling beautiful. 

And because the mass markets simply cannot make a beautiful child's princess gown for my daughters' meeting with Cinderella next month, I've taken it upon myself to make sure they have the best dresses at the castle.

CINDERELLA 

   

I found these blue pumps at Goodwill for $1.50. Not bad for a pair of dress-up shoes, huh? It was even worth cleaning a glob of hairy gum off the bottom. No, she will not be wearing them around the Magic Kingdom, but they have served as fantastic glass slippers!

RAPUNZEL

  

Nor will she be going barefoot.

And there you have it. It's the most fun I've had making little girl dresses in a long time. The Rapunzel dress was especially fun to make because of all the little details. But the Cinderella dress is so authentic and it makes me smile when she clomps around in it with her too-big-for-her shoes singing, "We're going to Disney World!"

Oh the joy...

The reasons why I just love childbearing continue to surface. There were 4 years between my last 2 pregnancies and I hadn't forgotten these reasons, but I think blocked out a lot of them. Three months postpartum and the reasons are still coming to light. I could go into everything, but I'll just highlight a few of my favorites.

First, that 6 weeks of recovery is super fun. Especially after a C-section. Enough said.

Next, I'm constantly reminded that my genetic structure is not the same as those women who have baby number 4 and fit into their skinny jeans 2 weeks later. Nope, I'm desperately working to take off the last 30 of the 60+ lbs. I gained with my little bundle of joy. I do love eating salad for dinner, salad for a snack and treating myself to a lovely salad for dessert day after day. And then there's working out 40 minutes each day while watching my scale inch down 1 pound every 2 weeks. On top of that joy, it's SUPER fun to watch my stick of a husband eat a giant bowl of ice cream at 9:00 every night. "No, sweetheart, you go ahead," I say. "We just need to get it out of the house." Mysteriously, the ice cream container seems to magically refill itself because it never runs out. Clearly, I need to stop asking him to run to the store for that one thing.  I'm really hoping to be able to put my maternity clothes away at some point, but at the rate I'm going, my son will be 16 before I get there.

Then there's breastfeeding. I know it's great for many moms. (if God made it as the best way to feed our babies, why did He not make it possible for everyone to do it?) For others, it's a glorious gift...of mastitis, excruciating pain, lack of milk supply, latching problems, lactose intolerance, and being a slave to the pump. And finally, the lovely gift of the guilt of quitting when it just doesn't work. This comes from every source around you from your own feelings of inadequacy to other moms and dads (yes, even dads generously give you judgmental glares when you pull out a bottle of formula) to the internet, to the first lady herself talking up tax breaks for breastfeeding moms. (Where are the tax breaks for moms who choose not to beat their kids?) Here's a fun experiment. Go into a mom-and-me group and bring up the benefits of formula fed vs. breastfed babies, step back and watch the place go wild. It'll be like a pack of hungry lions fighting over the last zebra carcass. It's such a deeply personal and passionate subject and everyone has an opinion on it. Almost as fun is talking about organic vs. non-organic baby food.

Another thing I just find lovely about childbearing is losing all my hair. It's fun to go bald - or nearly bald - when you have as thin and fine of hair as me. And it's even more fun to find hair everywhere. I get to clean small rodent size balls of it out of the shower drain every 2 weeks when I notice that my feet are taking a bath during my shower. I start to find it between my toes when I walk barefoot on the carpet and I haven't vacuumed for 2 days. I get to clean out the vacuum bristles weekly. I even get to find it in my food, as do my children and husband. Lucky them! I'm wearing a hairnet and hat when I bake now instead of just a hat and ponytail. BUT IT GOES ON! A year from now, I get to watch all that hair grow back as little fuzz all over my head sticking straight up. Uncontrollable fuzz. A constant reminder that "you were pregnant."

These are just a few of my favorite things. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I blame Eve and her husband Adam. She just HAD to eat the fruit. Could have avoided the whole "pain in childbearing" thing, but NOOOOO, she had to know good from evil and ruin it for the rest of the human race. Thanks a lot! Who listens to a talking snake anyway?

It's a good thing that the baby is all worth it in the end. My children are the best part of waking up each morning. Ooo, my boy is waking up, I've gotta go catch some giggles and smiles.

the sacrifice of artistry

As an artist of sorts and definitely as a perfectionist, it's hard for me to allow my children to take part in my art. Yeah, yeah, children's artwork is beautiful and priceless and no one has any right to criticize it, blah - blah - blah. I do find my children's artwork wonderful for what it is. They're learning and I love that they're learning, but I don't like that I'm losing control of my traditions. Small sacrifice, I suppose...right?

I was married for 10 years before we had kids and I would spend several days during each Christmas season baking delicious sugar cookie cutouts and decorating them impeccably. They were stunning. Snowflakes of aqua and white, stars of blue and yellow, trees of green, mittens and hats of pink and red, each with perfectly placed sprinkles...not too many, but just enough. Each cookie was a canvas on which I painted my masterpiece.

My two daughters love baking almost as much as I do I'm pretty sure they would just as soon take over my kitchen if I would let them. It's fun to watch them learn and be artistic and I love that they are as excited about my craft as I am, but I've had to let go of my perfectionism a little bit. The last couple years, I've let the girls each decorate 5 or 6 cookies each.

This year I let the girls do all of the decorating of the cookies and most of the cutting out.  I think I gave myself 5 or 6. I whipped up a batch of royal frosting and let them do their magic. It almost killed me when I made the decision that I would not bring my annual beautiful cookies to family gatherings this year even though I didn't really have time to make them anyway. It turns out that the girls were just as meticulous as I would have been with frosting and placing sprinkles. I worked with them for a little while and eventually had to walk away so I'd stop telling them what to do.  These are my "favorites:"

Merry Christmas and Happy Baking!

my little monkey

After a bit of maternity/postpartum hiatus, I'm back and more exhausted than ever! We celebrated the addition of our son to our family early October and I can describe him in one word.

DELICIOUS.

My sense of fashion and style in my day-wear has been reduced to sweats and pj's. But every time I walk into my baby's room, I can celebrate the style of his nursery decor.  I thought I'd share the details with you.

I know they're overly popular right now and normally I wouldn't go for popular, but I'm a little obsessed with sock monkeys. Pottery barn gave me the idea, but I wasn't a fan of the colors to chose from there...so I went fabric shopping. Until I started sewing it all, I forgot how much I hate sewing bedding and curtains. But for the sake of my baby who doesn't appreciate it at all, I sucked it up and did it.

Here's his room. And, oh yeah, I refinished, painted, or sewed everything you see here except the carpet. Love me or hate me!