family

Elijah’s Birthday Extravaganza!

Everyone wanted a horse themed party this summer (well two kids anyway). So how do you plan two parties back-to-back with the same theme and keep them completely different? It ended up being a lot easier than I thought. Elijah, who turned three, wasn’t able to take riding lessons this year. For a couple of the lessons he sat and watched enviously as his older siblings and cousins got to ride around on horseback. I know, I feel like a terrible mother. But what are you supposed to do when you have no baby sitter? I’ll tell you what I did. I rented a horse and pony to come to our house for his birthday party so he could have his very own horse ride.

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Look at that face, worth every bit of it!

And you have to let the other kids ride too…

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The package also came complete with petting zoo,IMG_9829IMG_9779IMG_9780IMG_9785
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And face painting!


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I got to feed the horse one of our apples!

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Aren’t horses beautiful?

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And so are little cowgirls!

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I honestly was so busy with the party that I almost had forgotten to take pictures of the food!

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Beef brisket, scalloped potatoes, rolls, chips,

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the family baked beans (I think they make an appearance at almost every gathering),

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and corn on the cob grilled in the husk,

Where is one to get something to drink in these parts?

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At the waterin’ hole of course! (And there was pop on ice.)

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We had “haystacks” at the last party, so this time we had “Barn Muck,” peanut butter and chocolate. Yummy!

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And no birthday party is to be without cake!

I missed the whole part with swimming in the pool, but it was there. Then we had what turned out to be one of my favorite parts of the day. (I’ve shared my love of party photo ops before.) I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a long time. I never knew one could have so much fun turning dollar store mustaches into all sorts of facial hair… (I’d really like to do a whole post on this, and I would like to apologize in advance for the onslaught of pictures coming your way.)

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Overall the party was a huge success because the birthday boy was happy! He told me so! “Me excited about my birthday. Me like my presents!”

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Happy Birthday Elijah/Cowboy/Power Ranger/Spiderman! We love you so much!

Giving Up

A few years ago we were touring the Green Isle of Ireland. The places we saw were lovely and quaint, historic and monumental. The people were friendly and warm from the Dingle Peninsula to Waterford, Dublin to County Cork, I loved it all. But that is a different story. This is a tale of the decision to go to the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland, which actually isn’t Ireland but a part of the United Kingdom. You can tell it is the United Kingdom because as you are driving along the tree lined paved road, you reach a check point made up of basically a parked car and a couple of security guards who look at your passports and let you continue along the way across an invisible boundary you may not have noticed otherwise. What is obvious however is that every pub sign has changed from Guiness to Harps, the kilometer speed limit signs are now in measurements of miles per hour and catholic churches have become protestant.

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We had decided to see the Giant’s Causeway based on some tour research I had done before the trip. We had basically seen everything else on the list and on this particular two day/one night allotment we could travel to Belfast or see this amazing natural phenomenon; which proved too intriguing for me to pass up. Upon arrival to the tourist center we received some maps of optional trails and brochures of historical facts and legends of folklore about the site. The mythological tale has something to do with a giant building the causeway to Scotland, only to find another giant on the other side. There is some sort of fight challenge and one of them flees, destroying the causeway behind him. In actuality it has to do with a volcanic eruption many moons ago and the reaction to the cooling of lava. The result is about 40,000 pillars of rock or “interlocking basalt columns” in mostly hexagonal shapes (some with 5,7, and 8 sides) that at their tallest are about 39 feet and look like something straight out of some outer space B movie.

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The walk from the visitor’s center to the natural wonder was a hike in itself. We noticed a bus transporting visitors directly to the site from the center and we made a mental note to ourselves that we would definitely take the bus back. I can’t remember how long it took us to reach the Giant’s Causeway, only that it was a trek. Owen was carrying Isaiah in a Kelty pack on his back and I had a travel/diaper-bag backpack and it seemed worth not having to walk the distance on our return.

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The site was extraordinary. The gray geometric pillars make stepping stones and 3D hills that seem more like pixels or a Q*bert game than the landscapes we’re used to seeing. They lead to walls of more basalt columns on one side and fade away into the ocean on the other. I was amazed. They are confounding in a way, almost unbelievable, contradicting what you know to be true and totally astounding. Definitely worth seeing and the right decision. After some exploration, it was starting to reach dusk and it was time to head back to the visitor center (and our rental car).

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As we were heading toward the pick up point for the bus transport we noticed a short trail to a staircase on the side of a cliff. We obviously couldn’t see over the cliff, but since we had walked the route around and down the rock wall on the other side it seemed to be a short cut back to the visitors center. Besides, the shortest distance from point A to point B is a straight line, so this direct path up was certain to save us some steps!

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The events that transpired next are almost as difficult to comprehend as the Giant’s Causeway. From the bottom of the cliff the amount of steps seemed easily doable. Somewhere along the way they became insurmountable. There didn’t seem to be any sense in going down to catch the bus, we figured we were about halfway up the cliff by this point anyway. Besides the fickle stormy weather of Northern Ireland and the Atlantic Ocean had begun to turn and the winds were picking up and dark clouds were rolling in. Our only option was to persevere. We continued the endless journey as it began to rain. The winds were blowing so hard that it made it difficult to see in front of us. We secured a rain jacket around the baby and kept going. It was all I could do to put one foot ahead of the other. My muscles were fatigued from all of our earlier exploration and climbing the stairs seemed impossible. Around this time, the rain had turned into snow and the winds were full of gust. The strangest thing I had ever seen was the snow was literally coming up from the ground. The force of air hitting the rock face was blowing the snow upward- defying all laws of gravity! I remember being in awe of the crazy weather, and the sting of windburn on my face. At this point I was concerned for the baby. The top of the cliff was slowly coming in sight and I told Owen just to go on ahead, take Isaiah and get him into the safety of the building. He sped to the top and looked down to check on me, a few flights behind. I waved him on and he left.

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Seeing Owen reach the top was incentive for me, and I knew I could do it. I was almost to the home stretch and would be warm and dry soon. However, when I reached the top I was surprised not to see the visitor center but a trail cut through some tall grasses. It was almost like a maze, but without the multiple choice. The only way was to keep going forward, weaving back and forth through the rugged path. Eventually I could see some farm houses in the distance. I honestly questioned if I could even make it to them if I had to, and I wondered if they could see me. I thought if I dropped right here they wouldn’t even know, I would be hidden by these tall grasses. By now my face was numb and my legs were jelly. I was thinking about Owen carrying Isaiah and how disappointed he must have been that the visitor’s center was so far away. I thought that he must be worrying about me and feeling helpless since he couldn’t bring the baby out in this weather to help me and couldn’t leave him with a stranger.

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So I kept going with no end in sight. I pondered how long it would be for someone to find me if something happened. I was certain no one was coming up behind me. There were no other people on the stairs and it was doubtful anyone would be heading out in these conditions with night approaching. Trying not to think about exhaustion, I thought about other people who had been in these circumstances before. And I began to have an understanding of how people “throw in the towel.” I remembered stories I had heard about how some person was found frozen in the woods sitting under a tree. I began to have these empathetic feelings of how someone in such a situation might give up. I understood that they just didn’t care anymore enough to keep going. (Not that I was going to actually going to call it quits Owen!) But I could see how the desire to stop could be greater than the will to go on.

Needless to say I pressed on and after I don’t know how many miles after the stairs (maybe just one, maybe several) I saw the building. And I expected them to have their faces pressed to the glass anticipating my arrival. As the glass doors became more visible I looked for them to start waving, so I could wave back and let them know I made it! But I didn’t see them and that didn’t make sense. I went in through the first set of doors, and no one was there. I went through the second set of doors and still not one familiar face. I began to survey the building and there they were… in the souvenir shop, playing with toys! Here I was, returning from the brink…, and they didn’t even notice I was gone!

After I relayed my disappointment and listened to the nonsense about keeping the baby happy, we patronized the tea room and let my face thaw. I guess you could say all’s well that ends well; I’m here to tell the story! And in retrospect I left with seeing one of the most amazing natural occurrences in the world; and a new perspective on humanity.

Entertaining the Kids with English Chocolate Crisps

By now we have established that I am a stay at home mom of four. So it fair to presume that most of my entertaining is for my children. Keeping them active in the kitchen is important to me. (Okay, to be completely honest sometimes I want them away from the kitchen). But mostly I want to teach them about food and preparing it. I want them to see ingredients and learn where they come from. I often talk to them about eating organic and try to explain (age appropriate) reasons why. For convenience sake we do buy packaged food (I don’t know the first thing about making chocolate), but we try to make good choices.

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The Barefoot Contessa cookbook, Make It Ahead, has a great recipe to try with your children. There is no baking involved (only melting some chocolate on the stove top, done by mom). There are only for ingredients: milk chocolate, bittersweet chocolate (I used semi-sweet, pictured), cornflakes and cranberries, and the whole process is basically stirring and dropping spoonfuls of the mix onto paper. Perfect for my two and four year old!

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They like being a part of the creating process and they l-o-v-e taking ownership of the final product! Such an accomplishment! Since there were no eggs involved, eating the batter was an option… and that’s always a good reward along the way.

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The result was quality time with mom, happy kids and fun treats to eat. I encourage you to spend some time with the kids in your life, “it’s the best investment you’ll ever make!”

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It’s also a rule of mine to try a recipe as it is written for the first time, before I tweak it. And these cookies were delicious. But I think next time we will make them a little more kid-friendly and fun (and subsequently less healthy) by substituting the cranberries with mini-marshmallows!

Another Family #Dudeperfect Video

Hey #dudeperfect, if you’re listening… this #dad of the year would love to meet you!

The Perfect Weekend

I imagined it all going very differently. It was going to be an outdoor wedding. My husband was the best man for his long time dear friend. We rented a house on a lake with my husband’s sister and her family for the weekend. The kids were all packed, from swimsuits to wedding guest attire. I could just envision myself writing stories while the kids played on the beach. At its peak, we would dance on a floor under a grand white tent in the woods. My sister-in-law was stopping at the grocery store to have the house stocked with muffins, pizzas, fruits, veggies, sodas, etc. upon our arrival. It was going to be perfect.

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There was a minor set back the night before we were leaving my 9 year old came down with a 104.3˚ fever. Alternating Tylenol and Motrin, we had the fever was in control, and by morning at medicine time he was a steady 98.7˚. Hoping for a fluke, some kind of fast and furious 24 hour bug, we decided to take our chances and head out for the 4 hour journey north. The car ride was as expected; hungry kids, potty breaks, diaper changes, music and movies. I forgot my laptop! Oh well, no work this weekend, all play. Pulling up to the rental was exciting, choosing our beds, checking out the scenery and the kids greeting their older cousin.

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We opted out of attending the rehearsal dinner with my husband. We’re kind of a distraction, a traveling circus if you will. Besides, since the fever, Isaiah could use another night of recovery. Everything was under control as my husband left to fulfill his Best Man obligations. Pizza was in the oven, the kids just started a movie and my sister-in-law had gotten the baby to sleep. I got this.

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I’m not sure what went wrong first. I guess it started with the baby waking up as soon as everyone left the house. He was starting to have some sort of reaction, and the preexisting rash on his face was getting inflamed and starting to ooze. All of the sudden the house felt cold and damp. I started coming down with an upper respiratory thing. Isaiah’s fever was back and his nose was bleeding. Elijah began a cough. By the time Owen got home I was spent. Things seemed to go downhill from there. Needless to say, there wasn’t much sleeping. By breakfast Naomi had an upset stomach so badly that she had two clothing changes. I was completely overwhelmed, and missing the wedding was inevitable. Owen of course had a commitment, but I would have to take one for the team.

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Maybe it was because Elijah was licking up his spilled water off of the basement carpet? Maybe it was because Noah was in a constant state of scratching and my arm was exhausted before we even had lunch? Perhaps it was because Naomi was out of clean clothes? I felt like the walls were caving in. (Although that could have been the sinus pressure in my head.) I needed to get some fresh air and a moment to myself. I decided to walk down to the lake and take in some of the calm. Naturally as soon as I got to the dock, the next door neighbor needed to cut his grass with a jet powered lawn mower.

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My precious niece opted to stay with me and the kids in lieu of attending the wedding. And I am forever grateful, because it was her optimism and suggestion of duct tape and one of her shirts that kept me going when I realized Owen had taken the diapers to the ceremony. At this point things were so ridiculous; all I could do was laugh. So much for the perfect weekend! Hey man, sometimes that’s how the cookie crumbles. Of course, I’m home and reasonable now, so I can say that.


Congratulations Lee & Amy! Wish I could have seen it in person!

A Grad Party for Claire

Do you think that when you have graduated high school, you would no longer want to be called Clair Bear? Well that’s the prerogative, of an older cousin, to think of her always as a little girl. However, I did just attend her graduation party and it was lovely. So lovely in fact, that I had to take a billion pictures to share for entertainment ideas!

I really have talented family members. I mean, really talented. And although I will spare you the long details of the name of every dish and the respective member of my family who created it; you can rest assured I tasted it.

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The desserts were ridiculous!!! In the best way of course.

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Claire was able to travel to Europe, and Paris was woven throughout the decor…

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Clearly you see a pink theme here. Totes adorbs (that’s the Barbie’s Life in the Dream House talking). Pink was everywhere; Balloons poolside, college-to-be-attending letters, picture ribbons…

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The fence was lined with bottles and flowers and pictures of the graduate.

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The tree house was adorned with pics and memorabilia…

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There were tents with refreshments outside.

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Dinner included a lovely salad and pasta bar. And yes dessert was outstanding, but I just have to let you know that my Aunt Leann’s pesto was too, and I will be getting you that recipe… But look at these pink marshmallows and more fun things to dip in the chocolate fondue!

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Claire, our newest graduate…

Yes, I took a bad picture of a good picture... but it was so cute! (And sorry, I don't know who to credit for the original!)

Yes, I took a bad picture of a good picture… but it was so cute! (And sorry, I don’t know who to credit for the original!)

Consider this a standing ovation:

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Congratulations Claire!

i want

i want a calgon take me away bath moment. except I don’t want artificial bubbles. and i want it in a porcelain tub with iron clawed feet. i’d like it to be on a carrera marble floor bathroom, the kind i pinterest. i want freshly cut hydrangeas of purple pink and blue around the room and a large picture window overlooking a sand and grass landscape that fades into the ocean. i want to live the instagram life of @helloemilie for a day, maybe three, because it looks like the best beach version of an anthropology catalog. i want david chang to make me noodles for dinner. and then i want a chocolat chaud from le notre in paris. when i come home i want my freshly bathed kids to give me a hug and a kiss before they go to bed on a night that they sleep through ’til morning. when i wake up i want a leprechaun sized barista living in my kitchen cupboard. thank you

Born on the 4th of July

My grandma was born on the 4th of July. There was a time in her early life when I believe she thought all of the hoopla was all a part of her celebration. And although I am largely patriotic and enjoy all of the red, white and blue, I can’t have a fourth of July without thinking about my grandma.

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My grandmother was a renaissance woman. And in memory of her this time of year, here’s a little about grandma… Early on in her life, there was no father figure around. And my great-grandmother (GG) took it upon herself to raise and provide for her three children. As soon as my grandmother was able, she also took on the responsibility to help, and she pretty much worked ever since. She wasn’t the type of grandma you imagine standing over the stove, stirring her secret sauce. In fact, she had a reputation for burning everything and GG did most of the cooking. My grandma was different, and perfect. At a young age she would collect left over cobs of corn from a mill to bring food home to her mother and siblings. She worked in a potato chip factory, in Detroit, MI. And she recalled that every once in a while a potato would come down the line at Lay’s that had missed the process, baked and seasoned; she shared, it was a real treat. Later she took a job at Vernor’s in Detroit. Eventually they had enough money and she and GG bought their own house. They were proud to have owned the deed to their own home, and by the time my grandpa came around, she was quite self sufficient.

Aunt Becky (my mother's sister), Grandma and my mother.

Aunt Becky (my mother’s sister), Grandma and my mother.

She gave great beauty tips: Never pull on the skin under your eye, it will give you wrinkles; Brush your hair upside down (over your head) to make your hair grow thick and longer; Tap your nails to make them stronger; Use caution ever putting oil on your face, it makes your pores big… but sometimes you should use a little vitamin E on it. She had great skin. She wore scarves in her hair, which she always died dark brown. She loved to be comfortable. She would cut, move, and tape any shoe, seat belt or shirt to be worn with more ease. She always carried breath mints and gum; which she chewed half of a piece at a time.

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When she was upset she would say “Oh beans,” and if she heard something shocking she would say “Good night;” except ‘good’ had two syllables. When she laughed hard she would throw her head back. She was adorable.

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My Grandma, kneeling with her girls along with my grandfather. ‘GG’ in the upper right.

She had an amazing garden. It was huge and productive. She canned her own green beans, tomatoes, along with other vegetables and the best grape jelly that I’m sorry you never got to taste. She could eat an onion like an apple. She was into trying to eat your vitamins through food, and taking vitamins… before it was a fad. She had a subscription to Prevention magazine. If she were around today I’m sure she’d be an advocate for eating organic and avoiding GMO’s.

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My grandma started every day with black coffee and fell asleep every night listening to tapes of someone reading Bible scriptures. She was extremely devoted to God, and His son, her personal Lord and Savior, Jesus. She sang hymns around the house. She had a big heart, and when her sister was unable to care for her children my grandma raised two nieces and a nephew as well as her own.

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Every year on the 4th of July we would celebrate her birthday, and as a child I would ask “How old are you grandma?” And every year her response was the same, “Twenty-nine.”

Grandma on the right, eating cake.

Grandma on the right, eating cake.

She would have been 29 today. ?

Have a happy and safe 4th of July!

Burnt Popcorn

My Grandma Curtis was a real pioneer. She was not a pioneer in the prairie way, it was more of an unconventional progressive way. My great-grandfather, whom I never met, was not around. My great-grandmother was a hard working self sufficient mother of three and, as the story goes, better off without him. (However, they never got a divorce or married another, and I believe she truly loved my great-grandfather). Now, my grandma got her can do spirit from her mother I’m sure. And she worked very hard to provide for herself and eventually her mother. For, she said, “their hearts beat as one.”

All of this independence and achievement, however, left very little time in the kitchen. She wasn’t the type of grandma to have freshly baked cookies in the oven or to pass on her secret recipe on how to make- anything. Regardless, I have very fond memories of sitting at her kitchen table and talking with her (mostly about Jesus) over perfectly sweet homemade grape jelly and burnt toast. Actually, she was notorious, in our family, for burning everything she cooked. Whether it was toast, popcorn or pecan pie, grandma had a way of slightly blackening everything. And perhaps it truly is my love for my grandmother and the precious time she spent with me, but I liked it!

In fact, even now, I prefer my popcorn burnt. I know most people think it’s gross. Yes, it stinks up the whole house. (Ideally, I should do it on a beautiful day so I can open the windows.) But, I can’t help it. It’s right up there with the crispy cheese corner of lasagna and the sticky charred sauce on BBQ grilled chicken.