penny carnival

Choosing fun

I wasn't going to write a post tonight. There wasn't anything particularly interesting about our day today. I sewed up a book sling for a new friend. (It was in exchange for a one-hour massage by her. How lucky am I??? Those of you who keep saying, "I wish I knew how to sew ..." Take a class! It pays off!). I did some meal planning (more on that topic one day soon). And I made pumpkin muffins with Magpie in the morning.

So who cares, right?

Well, I just came from Emily Chadwick's blog and she made me think today might be more significant than I thought. 

Instead of letting her two little ones get the best of her today, Emily turned a frustrating car ride into an adventure in rhubarb. Instead of just getting everyone home and making it through the day, she stopped at a farm stand near her house and let her kids see her go bonkers for the red veg. They brought some home, found a recipe to follow, and made something yummy together. You can read all about it here.

I try not to write much here about the tough days in parenting. We've all been there (right? please say I'm not the only one who loses my mind now and then). You don't need me rehashing a bad day and bringing everyone down. Unless, of course, it leads to a Penny Carnival group vacation to Canyon Ranch. Oh my--doesn't that sound nice right about now?

For whatever reason, I've had my fair share of rough patches in the last couple of weeks. I was kind of spiraling down into grumpy mommyhood until I snapped myself out of it the other day. I had to remind myself of something I fundamentally believe: with any relationship, the answer to challenges is more love, not less. (At least, that's what the Dixie Chicks tell me.) More kisses. More hugs. More compliments.

And more fun.

It's not fool proof, but so far this is what it has meant for us this week:

Fewer errands, more stops at the playground. Less cleaning, more dancing to ABBA songs. Later bedtimes (within reason). And more spontaneous tea parties at the fanciest hotel in town (the wait staff at our local landmark was more than happy to serve Shirley Temples in teacups the other day, and they didn't bat an eye at the eye shadow and blush smeared all over my daughters' faces). 

Today's fun? Bo and I decided to bake a cake, and baking a cake turned into throwing a small birthday party. But whose birthday was it today? I told her I'd look online. Jerry Seinfeld. She gave me a blank stare. So I suggested throwing a birthday for a thing instead of a person, like how about for our house? She had never heard anything so ridiculous. 

We looked around her room and settled on a character from a book. Little Red Riding Hood was the first thing she grabbed.

Is today really Little Red's birthday? I guess that depends. If one person in the universe believes it is, doesn't that make it so?

Here's to choosing fun. Here's to rhubarb!

The 'P' word

Anyone who has been reading this blog for any length of time is going to love this:

Bo wants a princess birthday party this year.

Arrgh!! What is a feminist, Disney-loathing mom to do?

I'm actually not freaking out too badly (especially compared with J). In fact, believe it or not, a princess birthday was my suggestion.

She was starting to talk about having a Hawaiian-themed party after attending a luau at her cousin's school. But I could tell she wasn't in love with that idea, and I've been watching her slowly start to pay attention to princesses over the last few months.

It was never our plan to completely ban something she took a natural liking too. We just didn't want to be the ones to suggest it or introduce her to it, especially since we don't like how Disney over markets itself to young kids and because of the whole girl-rescued-by-a-boy theme in most of the stories (some of you have kindly pointed out in the past that many of the princesses are quite strong characters in the stories. Thank you. They still have giant boobs.).

So she was talking about the luau party the other day when I had a sort of out-of-body experience and heard myself say, "You know, I think a luau would be fun, but I've been hearing you talk about princesses lately. Maybe you want a princess party this year."

"YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Now we have two months to come up with a princess party that she'll love--and one that her father and I are willing to attend. I'm still trying to steer clear of the Disney characters and go with a non-commercial theme. I'm struggling a bit, though, and would love to anyone's suggestions. Here are some ideas I've gathered so far:

For party favors--

"Gold" crowns made from lace, a beautiful project by Bitter Betty.

For the cake--

The Princess and the Pea (a story she loves), by Seven Cakes

Or maybe a simple cake with this Cinderella topper from an awesome online shop called Bake It Pretty:

I love how pissy Cindy looks. 10 points for whoever can come up with the best caption for what the happy couple is saying.

For a gift--

A princess dress sewn from a pattern like this one. Yes, a Disney brand. I know. But maybe I'll switch the colors up a bit, just to put a personal stamp on it. And to give my kids one more thing to discuss in therapy 20 years from now.

For fun--

Make a plywood drawing of princesses and princes with holes where the kids can put their faces for photos, like this from the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle:

OK. Help me. I think I'm getting a cavity just looking at all the sweetness when I do a Google image search for "princess party." Thanks.

Make a dragonfly with Em

I'm sure I've said this here before, but I'm never totally sure who all is out there reading Penny Carnival. It's so fun to receive comments on posts to get to know people better, but I know there are still others hanging around who don't chime in. Lurk all you want! That's perfectly fine! (Although I do love to hear from folks.)

One reader I do know about is my 6-year-old niece Em (not her real name, but close). Em loves to dance, sing, go to kindergarten, make art and be a fabulous big sister and cousin. When she was a tiny baby, she was all eyes. She would lock her gaze on you with her great big beautiful peepers, melting everyone's hearts. She's still taking the world in, one wonder at a time (and taking it by storm often, too).

I'm across the state right now in my hometown, visiting my parents and sister. We were doing crafts with the kids the other day and Em had a great idea--how about if she created a tutorial for Penny Carnival? Fabulous. I'm on the mend from strep throat, so I'm thrilled to get some help around here. 

She invented this dragonfly craft on her own and dictated the directions to me as I took notes and photos. 

So here you have it ... a dragonfly craft courtesy of future craft blogger and wonder girl Em. I wish you could hear her voice as she explained these steps. Carol Duvall in training. The comments in parentheses are mine ...

1. Fold a piece of construction paper, starting on the long end. Keep folding, (accordion style) until you get to the end.

2. Choose a twist tie, whatever color you want. Twist it around, then you twist it around again.

3. Then choose whatever color paper you want. Cut a circle. This is going to be the head. At the very bottom put a little bit of glue. Then stick it onto your dragonfly wings.

4. Then flip it over and that’s the front of your dragonfly. Draw a face on the front.

5. Then cut antlers (yes, antlers! squeal!!!) from either the same color or a different color. Cut two little squares out. With a glue stick, you glue the antlers on.

And there you have it! A dragonfly.

Not to be outdone by her older cousin, Bo had to get in on the action. So here's her tutorial for coloring on a piece of paper, delivered in the same Carol Duvall tone:

1. I colored in. I colored like this and this. And then I made this. And then watch. I do this color in. Then what you do is put the cap back on.

2. Then just fold it and get another color to color with. Blue, yellow, pink. Any color. Color like this, this and this.

3. Snap it back on (the cap) and that’s the end.

That's it. I'm going to Bermuda. You're in good hands here.

Hoppy Easter!

Thank you, thank you, thank you all so much for the supportive comments about our pooch. Your kindness helps more than you know. Our plan is still to put her down next week. Although we're still heartbroken, we're more at peace with the decision. 

I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter. Ours was pretty simple: baskets and brunch in the morning, long naps in the afternoon and pizza with close friends at night (we decided Canadian bacon & pineapple was as close as we were going to get to cooking a ham this year). 

For the last couple of years, I've left the Easter baskets on the front porch the night before and let the girls discover them on their own in the morning. Bo gets so excited when she catches a glimpse of it in the window. She swings the door open, grabs her basket and screams "THANK YOU, EASTER BUNNY!" for the whole neighborhood to hear.

I probably mentioned this at Christmastime, but J and I have kind of a hard time with the whole Santa/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy stuff. We're going along with it so we don't spoil the magic of the holidays for them, but a big part of me feels terrible that we're lying to our kids. Does anyone else feel this way? That didn't stop me from searching the front yard with Bo this morning when she swore she saw the E.B. hopping by a tree.

I never did get my act together enough to make any crafty Easter projects, so let me show off the decorations at the restaurant where we ate this morning. This is the table at the entrance:

I love the Easter items, but I also am head over heels for the bird drawing on the blue wall behind the server. Can you see it? I need to learn more about it and report back with some better pictures.

A husband and wife own this restaurant (Luna) and the wife is an interior designer. Or decorator. Whatever. All I know is that I would be thrilled to live in just one of the bathrooms that she has designed. I don't know what you call her style ... French Provincial? Eclectic? Please-Please-Please come decorate my house for free?

The couple has another restaurant in town that we love. In fact we almost painted our house the colors of that restaurant's exterior.

OK, back to Easter. I love how casually mismatched these decorated eggs were:

We took the earliest reservation possible since you never know how things are going to go with young kids in a nice establishment. The girls did great and even had a chance to roam around--without too much fear of knocking over a tray of mimosas. 

I hope everyone had a lovely holiday.

UPDATE:

A couple of related sites that might be of interest. 

-The private home of Luna's owners (William and Marcia Bond) was featured in Traditional Home mag. You can see a slideshow here.

-And if you're one of my Portland peeps (as in people, not the marshmallow chicks), you probably know the restaurant Serratto on NW 21st. It is owned by a Bond family member. It's William and Marcia's son or daughter. I can't remember which. 

Doggy dog

I've been avoiding writing about this and I'm not sure why. I guess I assume most people come here looking for some craft inspiration or maybe an idea for an activity to do with their kids.

But as I've written the last couple of post, a big elephant has been sitting in the room.

A dog, actually. A medium-sized dog named Cronkite.

Oh, boy. Here come the tears.

So, I'm going to write about this. You don't have to read it. But maybe it will help me cope to get it out there? It might also make some of you judge me in a negative way. I don't know. I wish I could say I don't care what you think, but I do.

J and I adopted Cronkite, our sweet mutt, almost seven years ago. She was at least a year old at the time, maybe older.

Adopting a dog at the shelter was my birthday gift, but we had to wait a couple weeks to do so because that was the summer we were getting married. So the day after we got back from our honeymoon (literally), we found her, shivering in her cage, the only dog not barking for our attention.

She was the only dog we took on a leash that day, and we decided right then and there we didn't have to think about it. There was no way we could bring her back inside. I loaded her in our Jeep while J filled out the paperwork. She was ours.

Cronkite was nervous at first. She cowered when other dogs in the neighborhood barked. She was afraid of the leash. But she quickly warmed up to us and became our "baby," as many dogs do (especially before people actually have babies, I think).

Everyone loves Cronkite. The words most people use to describe her are "sweet," "gentle," and "easy." And she is.

Except lately.

She bit our house painter the other day. Unprovoked. She just charged the poor guy and poked a hole in his leg with her teeth. She actually did this a few months ago, too, to the cable guy. We were embarrassed and apologized profusely that time, but kind of forgot about it after it happened.

Cronkite has become more aggressive at the fence gate lately, barking like mad at other dogs and people who walk by.

She has never bitten the girls, but growls at them sometimes.

I called around to various vets and dog people and they all say the same thing: she needs to be put down. They say we should have done it after the first bite, not exactly making us feel like Dog Mom and Dad of the Year.

Seeing all that in print makes it sound like a pretty bad situation, huh? Like this should be a no-brainer. And it is in some ways, because what if there's a next time? What if the next worker who comes to our house gets more than a bite on the leg (which doesn't sound like much fun to me as it is). What if Cronkite breaks free from the backyard when a neighbor is walking their dog? What if the next victim is one of the kids or their friends?

I'm going to sound like every dog owner who's ever dealt with an aggressive dog now: what makes this so hard is that 99.9999998 percent of the time she's that sweet, gentle, easy dog we love. When I think about April 21, the date we have scheduled to put her down, when she's curled up at my feet (like she is right now) I start to think the whole thing is a weird dream. This can't be the same dog.

It's also hard knowing that there are behavioral programs available to help us teach her to be less aggressive. For a couple of days, we thought that was going to be the route we would take. But both J and I woke up one morning and agreed--it's not worth the risk.

So, I'm basically a wreck right now. J reminds me that we extended her life seven years, and I'm glad for that, but it doesn't erase the guilt or the sorrow.

I will miss my doggie. I will miss being in awe of how fast she can run, how she looks like a ribbon in the wind when she really gets going. I will miss how excited the girls get when they see her after a long trip away from home. And I will miss how she rests her chin on my knee sometimes and looks up at me with those droopy eyes as if to say, "What's on your mind, Mama? And how about a little ear rub while you're at it?"

Easter craft roundup

We are a bit behind on the Easter crafting this year, but here's a roundup of links I wrote for my other blog if you're looking for some great ideas. These fabric eggs from Retro Mama are one of my favorites:

Not that we're not crafting at all. Bo's latest obsession is mail. Letters. Envelopes. Stamps. Mailboxes. So today we followed these instructions to make a mailbox for Magpie while she napped.

Ours doesn't look quite as polished as the one pictured there, but Bo was thrilled to "write" her sister a letter and leave it in the box for her. A long time ago I thought of buying both girls a secondhand mailbox, letting them paint them and then attaching them to their bedroom walls somehow for sisterly correspondence. But our Quaker Oats mailbox will do just fine for now.

Seeds, kiddie art, fabric hoarding and a purse

I'm fried.

I can't even come up with a clever title for this post (see above). The last two weeks have been a blur--slammed with work deadlines, a fun-but-all-too-fast trip to Portland (Oregon), and these two adorable children who keep calling me Mommy and insist that I feed, clothe and clean them.

In the meantime, I'm longing to sew. And send stuff off that I've already sewn (JennaZ--your book sling is done and lovely, I'm just having a dickens of a time finding a mailing tube that's long enough for it. It's my No. 1 priority for tomorrow. Er, today. It's tomorrow already.).

One thing I have managed to find time for is buying fabric. What is my deal? I should probably not write another post encouraging underconsumption until I rein in this habit. Our trip to Portland last week included an important stop: Ikea. Without sales tax. Weeeee! Plus, fabric was on sale. (Justification alert. Justification alert.)

Then, when I got back home, I stopped at the Quilting Bee in Spokane Valley because they're having a sale. I bought some adorable circus fabric that I'm going to use with this pattern--Feliz party dress from Studio Tantrum. So girly and fun.

Somewhere along the way I did manage to sew this purse, roughly following this pattern from Favorite Things.

I fully intended to follow it exactly, but--I have to be honest here--I couldn't understand half of what they were telling me in the directions. Has anyone else used Favorite Things before? I'm not trying to badmouth them--I'm sure it's more my problem than theirs--but at one point I felt like turning the instructions upside down to see if that helped. The purse turned out fine, but making it hurt my head.

Then we've been doing a little bit of this:

And a little bit of that:

And following these fantastic directions for making masterpieces out of children's art:

You basically trace a silhouette onto a child's painting, cut it out, then paste it on a white background. Simple. Brilliant. Beautiful. 

I first saw the idea on Ohdeedoh and there was some conversation there about how damaging it would be to a child's self-esteem to repurpose their art. Hmmm ... I just told the girls from the beginning that this was what we were going to do. Bo helped me trace and paste. Viola! She loved the finished product and so do I.

So much more to say, but my battery is low and it's, um, 1:32 a.m. Nighty nigh