Thoughts On God -- more scrappy than religious!

Good afternoon! I'd think of a more clever opening, but my three-year-old is also telling me (from ten feet away) that he's hammering in Mr. Potato Head's eyes with his toy hammer. Since we're trying to teach him (again)that it IS okay to play independently every now and then, I'm betting I'm going to be fairly well distracted while trying to put this blog together. Since I've been putting off this blog all week due to teaching him that he can play alone, I can't keep putting it off for another day. What I find most entertaining about the whole scenario is that he plays a large role in today's post. In order to write about him, I have to get him to do something else.

Am I the only one scratching their head over this?

I digress. I had a point today; and that was to share a short story, some thoughts and a scrappy page about my son and Higher Powers.

It all started with an early morning walk in the neighborhood. Since he's been able to walk well, we've taken many walks like this; even when temps have hit above 90. From birth until he could walk well, we would go for at least one stroll everyday that I wasn't called into work. When he cut teeth, we spent as much time outside of the house as possible. He finds some sort of comfort and peace outdoors as do I; and it's usually the best way to get us both happy when he gets crazy and I get tense. Last week, he and I had another one of "those" moments around 8:00 AM. I quickly chucked him out the door and strapped on his shoes to help us both calm down. It was a nice morning; full of blue skies and cool breezes. Out of nowhere, he started asking me about God.

Where is God?

Where does he live?

Is he really in that tree?

What about that acorn?

Why is he in the acorn?

Is he in the sidewalk?

Mom, my feet hurt. It's time to go home.

I think the big inspiration behind his questions came from the many conversations I had with my friend, Mel, in Georgia. She is Baptist (although, at one time I thought she was Methodist). I am Catholic. Despite the finite details that allowed for the sectioning off in Christianity, we both share many key beliefs. Though neither of us can claim frequent attendance to weekly services, we both still believe in God. We both believe that God is an entity with whom we can discuss our hopes, failings and means toward improvement. We both believe it's important to thank God early and often for all the blessings we have received. Because we share these details, we talked frequently and openly about them. It's an experience my son has rarely witnessed at home.

...........Only now does this strike me as odd and something new to reflect upon. Huh...

Well, since one string of conversations had led to another, between my son and I, I couldn't help but do two things. The first was to take a less-than-spectacular photo of our shadows with my camera phone.

The other was to immediately recall the song, Counting Blue Cars, by Dishwalla.




I also spent a few hours settling into the inspiration for a page to add to my son's three-year-old album:



Putting the page together was inspired by a few August Challenges at Pages In Time.

*First and foremost, the Pile It On Challenge, as posed by 2amscrapper. For this I needed to combine two other challenges and a special twist into my design.

*I needed to follow the rules for the Fantasy Challenge, as posed by Maggie White, in which I needed to:
The title of you LO should be a movie title or a song title -- Counting Blue Cars.

I would like to see some layers on the page and flowers and bling. To do this I used the July 30 Thursday Sketch, which allowed for plenty of layers (all Cosmo Cricket). I also chose to break back into my beloved Prima stash for two of the flowers, while making the large flower by hand. The stems on the three flowers were made with Prima E-Line bling.

*I also needed to follow the guidelines for Barbara Lochridge's Pretty Punch Challenge: use at least 2 punches. The photo corners and the top layer of the hand-made flower were created from two of the three punches that I own. I never got into collecting punches for all the space they take up, but I was happy I had at least enough for this.

*The twist was to create a flower from one of two tutorials in the Handmade embellishment group. I chose the pinwheel tutorial. It's pretty obvious that it's my first attempt at this kind of flower, but I had fun dolling it up with glimmer mist and a few drops of Glossy Accents. I read on a blog by Scraplicious that I could use the medium to create water-droplets.

It took me some time to get this posted, so.... If you were able to read, thank you!

Anyone Interested in a Beautiful Blog hop?

If you either love to engage in paper crafting, or even just like to look at all the pretty pretties, Pages In Time has a something wonderful for you!

The blog hop starts here!

Have fun!

Rare

Of the bajillion and four confessions I could make regarding myself and my life... Well, I suppose one would be that I actually pick the number bajillion-and-four often as my go-to number for exaggeration. Another would be that I am a total stick-in-the-mud. I like where my roots have been planted. They are familiar and comfortable. Most days I find no reason to do anything different.

Then, I recall that saying about insanity. It's definition, apparently, is in doing the same thing time and again; expecting a different result. This gives me pause to consider the possibilities that come with change. While I'm still learning that not all changes are exactly as wonderful I hoped they'd be, others cause me to stop and be grateful for the blessing of that change every single day.

Take, for example, my son. Yes, my son. Get over it, I'll write about him a lot. He was the best damn change I could have never known I ever wanted. How's that for a Major in Language Arts? And back to my son. It's through his three-year-old eyes that I get to see so many details of life in a new light; changed, if you will. Today, I got to see the toy stand for Woody changed into a crane that lifted heavy loads (also known as the Yo Gabba Gabba bath squirters) all the way from the play room, two rooms away to the dining table I was working at.

Yesterday, I got to watch his understanding of playmates change as he played so well with two other children at a birthday party. That was totally awesome for me. Normally, he bosses me around in the playroom until he gets frustrated and tells me I'm a bad playmate.

He's also changed possibilities for some of our family. On the Fourth of July, he helped his great grandfather change his concept of "the norm" between himself and his great grandchildren. The Norm would be that the great grandchildren tend to shy away from him, as loving and fun as he can be, because of his gruff voice. The Norm of my son's world dictated pretty much the same until that day. It was then that something changed for him and he RAN to his great grandpa with arms open and waiting to be carried to the couch...where he promptly talked off the ear of his great grandpa for a good ten minutes. It was a rare moment that left us all surprised; and gave me a moment to grab my camera and shoot a few photos for posterity.

Because I loved that moment so much, I decided to make this page, inspired by the July 8 Thursday Sketch at Pages In Time. I decided to use part of a Fancy Pants "kit" I created on a whim to create some summer pages. I really like the colors in the My Family collection. The Prima DeVines have been in my stash for a little while now and I've been wanting to pull them out again. The same can be said for the E Line pearls and gems. I LOVE those little guys! The blue flower has been misted (blue, of course) and curled for some depth.





The moment also played a part in inspiring me to try to stretch my roots a bit and take some time job scouting another area of the country. I'll be spending this week planning and packing. I hope to blog at least a few days of this adventure. Of course I'm taking a camera!

Blessed Be

I've started typing this blog on the afternoon of my birthday. It's my hope to publish it either later tonight or early tomorrow. (Sidenote, that didn't happen, did it? The day was awesome and I was too sleepy to finish writing. Instead, it's being posted a few days after the fact. Okay, that AND I was inspired to create a Pile It On kind of layout, thanks to Pages In Time and I needed to put that together, too.) In approximately two hours, I will officially be 34 years old. Woohoo, right? It's certainly not a milestone birthday. It's not even on the fives when counting. It is, however, a special year already. I can tell.

'Round about three or four years ago, I was reading the blog of a very good friend. She was writing about her own birthday and how happy she was. At the time, and even up until recently, I was so NOT about celebrating my own birthday; and noted as much in my comment. Bless her heart, she reamed me out for setting a bad example for my son. At the time, I blew it off, but I suspect it stuck with me deeper down. Don't misunderstand. I'd still share in the family/birthday dinner. I'd still enjoy the cake. I'd even smile as I unwrapped a present. I just wouldn't get excited about the monumental day. I took the gift of life -- especially that very first day of life -- for granted. I just wanted the day to pass. I didn't even really want the gifts I'd gotten because I was pretty sure I didn't deserve them. They've always been outstanding treats; just couldn't figure out why I was being honored with them.

So why was this particular birthday different? Why did I wake and start singing (mentally) "Happy Birthday To Me! I'm older than 33! I gave birth to a monkey and he slept later than me!" Why did I, on the night before, actually say, "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!" when my mom confessed she couldn't wait any longer to give me my present? Why did I say, "By all means, keep the boy happy!" when my husband confessed mid-afternoon that our son insisted on getting me a present, wrapping it and yelling "Surprise!" at me?

My best guess is that I'm finally getting a part of the mystical "it" that explains life.... Only part, mind you. In the past year, I have noticed and remarked on the blessings of my life and actually being blessed in general more than I had in the 30-ish years that preceded them. I've said "Thank you" more often (though still not often enough); both to the people who have blessed me AND to the clouds and blue skies up above. I have accepted more often that there is a reason for some of the less joyful moments to happen and that I just might learn that reason soon enough. I'm beginning to truly believe (rather than pay lip service) that every single day is a tremendous gift. That there is beauty everywhere to adore, cherish and be grateful for.... That the color purple is an amazing thing.

Finally, being born is a big deal; and I'm so grateful that I was.... Even if it means that I need to get my keester off this couch and go get the laundry out of the dryer now because nobody else will.



As I mentioned above, this page was inspired by the Pile It On Challenge at Pages In Time. My goal was to incorporate four separate ideas into one page, plus a button. I'm thinking I need to come back and add detail photos, too.

For Lacee's Shabby Chic: I tried to keep pink, brown and white as the main colors by painting a brown border on white paper, then sanding it down, inking the white lace (flower) with pink ink, glimmer misting (a coffee color) the pink paper flowers and using white pearls as their stems...loads of distressing here.

For Barbera's Pearl: Again, the pearl stems on the flowers below.

Denise's Distressing: sanding the paint, roughing up the edges of the patterened paper

Lisa's Go Green: The button in the center of the lace flower was about to fall off of a jacket I was inspecting last week; so I cut it off (no longer a fan of the jacket as-is anyhow) and repurposed it. I also backed my journal spot with some cardboard from a delivery box. The journal spot itself (while I don't think it counts as recycling) is a bit of pink paper that I used as a crafting mat while painting the white paper, inking the pink strip behind the spot and misting the paper flowers. Since I'm not a regular user of pink, and I don't have a crafting mat, this often happens.

TFL! I'm starving and in need of a real breakfast.

Happy Pop's Day, Dudes!

There are likely a gajillion and four posts today that somehow relate to Father's Day. Thank goodness it's not my job to read them all! I'd be stuck in this chair until next Father's Day; only to do it all over again.

Today, I'm not going to reminisce about my own Dad. He's awesome, he's infuriating, he's embarrassing and a reason to hold my head high. I love him; and as crazy as he drives me, I wouldn't have him any other way.

This MIGHT, however, go into a little bit of mush wherein I talk about my husband as Dad. Likely that's going to happen because I made a little scrappy page about he and my son recently; I feel like sharing that page today.

He's a pretty good Dad, really. I admit I had my doubts about either of our skills before we brought our Little Wonder home. He can be gruff. He has a quick temper (even if it does fade as fast as it emerges); and Heaven help you if you're near him while waiting in a grocery line. His vocabulary isn't nearly as colorful as mine can be; yet he uses the "fun" words more often than I do. He can tire easily and is prone to migraines. He likes everything in like exactly his way; though he'll swear he's flexible. Not so much. He has some odd ideas of appropriate television viewing for children. Sponge Bob is about as innocent as we can agree on in that department.

And yet.... He's present with our son every day. He has no problems digging into the less-savory parts of parenting without looking back. Somehow, he is patient. He is teaching our son to appreciate nature, science, art and the craft of creating highly-detailed masterpieces (he is incredible at painting Warmachine models). Our son is constantly interested in whatever Daddy does and my husband has no problem teaching him as he goes along. My husband and my son are getting to know each other better every day. They love each other like parents and children are supposed to. They're setting the groundwork to respect each other as they grow.

THAT's why I felt so privileged to get this photo of them earlier this weekend:



And made this page, with the help of the Thursday Sketch at Pages In Time:



I added a few details to the sketch supplied, like stitching triangles around the title area, having peek-a-boo torn paper here and there, buttons that just insisted on being used... I also used a recent gift of crackle paint to make the title area brighter.

And just for kicks and giggles, this is another page I made in December that I just love:




Happy Father's Day!

Sorry Sweetie!

There's been a bit of excitement in my house this past week. Our son has made another tiny stride toward complete potty proficiency. There's been enough rain to get the "splashies" out of any puddle-jumper's system. I got my hair cut.

Evidently, getting my hair cut was the most exciting event of all. My mother was geeked because she's maintained super-short hair for most of her life. For as long as she could, she kept my hair about a couple inches long and permed the hey-diddle-diddle out of it. Of course, for the longest time her mother kept her hair in long braids, so all that makes sense, in a weird kind of way.

My son was pretty sure that this meant he'd get his hair trimmed, too. For several months now, whenever Daddy goes to get his hair cut, our son is getting the same. Why should Mommy's 'do day be any different?

The hubberband, on the other hand, was.... a little more toward luke-warm on the whole idea. When we met, so so many moons ago, my hair tickled my waist. He loved my long hair and all the goofy college-girl things I'd do to it. He loved the pony-tails and braids. He thought the buns and up-do's were amusing. He thought the long-flowing look was cozy....and aside from all that, he just really liked the femininity of long hair. It remained about that long for the next four years...when I graduated and got a real job....with a real paycheck.... and REALLY wanted my hair out of my way as I ran after first-graders all day.

I wanted a break from the length...and the maintenance! Spending an hour brushing tangles out of my hair was just not on my to-do list. Buying a new bottle of conditioner every week wasn't all that great, either. Always having ties and barrettes on hand?! It was time for a change. Since that first major cut, I've gone back and forth between hair that ends at my earlobes and hair that drops just past my shoulders. Every time I get it cut, he pouts for a few minutes and mourns the loss of a detail he holds so dear. I feel bad every time; really I do! But when the temperatures rise and humidity graces my skin, I choose comfort over beauty.

I created a page for my husband's album (100 reasons why I love him) so he could go back and look at the longer hair until it grows again. Mainly, it's a tongue-in-cheek kind of thing. The design is based on the . Again, if you're the crafty type, I recommend you check them out.

Bubbles McGee

Once upon a time, life was good. Okay, so life still is good and this is by no means a complaint on that note. With that in mind, I've been taking a few cruises down Memory Lane this past week. I don't know how May is faring for everyone else, but mine started off durn cold and is ending on a more sultry note. It's the heat that has me thinking about Summers of my childhood, teen and early adult years.

For the longest time, Summer was a major event in my life. Yes, I do mean the entire season! Summer is when school ends and relaxation begins. Summer meant Day Camp and field trips to the beach and Penny Whistle Place. Summer meant two weeks in Ohio, on my grandparents farm. Summer meant birthday parties -- both mine and a few friends. Summer meant sparklers and fireworks that were entirely too loud and reverberating for my liking. Summer meant temporary boyfriends. Summer meant I would make peace with one ex-boyfriend long enough to enjoy random drives, pizza in the basement an hour before dinner-time, and a few evening outings to local parks. Summer meant a dozen different vacations (over the years) that I REALLY didn't want to particpate in...and one trip to New Orleans.

Summer meant innocence and fun and a million and four possibilities. Even in hazy heat, everything was possible and magical. The fun would never end and bubbles never burst. I thought a lot of these same notions as I looked at these photos of my niece. Granted, they were taken on a winter-coat-mandatory day in April. Sultry summer air was but a dream! But those bubbles -- and the fun that ensued -- felt like it could go on forever. In that moment, life was magical again.



The design of this page is thanks to the Weekly Sketch Challenge at Pages In Time. I added loads of tiny acrylic circles to give a dimensional bubble feel. For kicks and giggled I also added a floral image (as posted in the Vintage Group at PIT) and the left-over packaging from a grunge flourish -- painted with Crackle Paint and inked. If you're scrappy -- or ever found billowing magic in all your photos -- I recommend you hop on over and see if you'd like to give it a try.

Thanks for looking!

Just Like Daddy

I have one of those things most like to call a "husband." Often, I prefer to call him my home. I also have one of those things most like to call a "son." Often I prefer to call him... Well, I often call him screwier than a a ten-penny nail. Oh, I'm aware that a ten-penny nail doesn't have screw threads...but my son is three and frequently makes about as much sense as my analogy. Regardless and obviously, I love them both. I wouldn't trade either for all the glimmer chalk in the world...(Psst! BTW, if your a Glimmer Mist fan, I just found a site selling the chalk! Squeal!)

My husband is a fan of bonsai; so much so that he can be found easily at a nursery or out in a wooded area looking for saplings to bend to his own will. Those close to him might also spy him perusing the internet for tips, tricks and more trees and seeds to aid in his cultivating ways. I've made the joke before that when he comes through the door with a new potted tree, he reminds me of a little kid with a stray dog -- the kind that asks, "Can we keep him?"...Only my husband doesn't ask permission to keep the tree. We just do.

Our son has sensed my husband's passion for growing trees and understands this MUST mean it is quite a special job to undergo. Now, whenever he sees his father heading toward the trees to either water or prune or repot or just generally examine for infestation -- half the trees are outdoor dogs, err, trees -- he simply MUST follow along and help whenever possible. Our son is so intent on helping that he has also been given the gift of his very own watering can.

This past week, my husband came home with a cold...and then was sweet enough to share it with us, but I digress. Because of this cold, he was unable to care for his trees as he would normally do and gave our son special permission to water his trees with any help. Sure enough, our son jumped at the opportunity. Sure enough, I snapped a few pictures while he did.

He was so happy to be "just like Daddy."



...until he was only half-way done with the job. Then he took off for the swing set.

The overall design of this page was inspired by a sketch posted on the Pages In Time site. Here's a link if you'd like to see the sketch and join the fun:

Pages In Time Weekly Sketch Challenge