Smile.ly—Be Heard. Be Happy.

Smile.ly—Be Heard. Be Happy.

Ghost smells

A few years ago I was shopping in Pier 1, when I found a candle that smelled EXACTLY like my grandmother. It was extremely creepy. The instant I picked it, I thought of her. A little funny right?

Well, she died when I was 7.

It was just BIZARRE that 20-some years later, I would still remember what someone SMELLED like.

So naturally, I bought about 6 of the candles and Brandon thought I was crazy. :-P

It's funny what we remember about people, what sticks in our memory. I remember how she let me eat bread drizzled in honey, even though I made a mess. How we used to water color and sticks notes through the floor boards into the basement (there was this tiny spot where the boards didn't meet the toe kick, and you could drop pieces of paper through the slit). And I remember how she used to play the piano and we'd sing.

Even the piano smells "different" sometimes. I can't even explain it. It just sits in our living room, and I can walk past it a hundred times, but sometimes if I sit down on the bench, it SMELLS like it used to smell in her house.

Isn't it odd how a smell can trigger a memory? And isn't it even more odd when we're the only one that can detect it? Because even if I bring it to someone else's attention, they can never smell what I do.

A few minutes ago, I was pinning minky blankets for the show in the basement. For about 10 seconds, my nose was flooded with a smell of cologne and baby powder.

I smelled my dad.

Who also died when I was 7.

:::insert creepy music:::

I was in my BASEMENT. In a house that has existed only since 2006, and my father obviously never set foot in. And this was NOT Brandon's cologne. It smelled like my dad, back in 1986, a mix of cologne, and the baby powder he used to put on his prosthetic leg.

Creepy, but strangely comforting.

Organized Chaos

So, my husband always comments that I try to be so "over" organized, that most of the time my world explodes into chaos around me. But sometimes, trying to be a full-time EVERYTHING just makes anything BUT chaos one of those things you only dream about. So as my kindergartener is "napping/resting" for soccer, and my almost 2-year-old is sprinkling every toy we own like confetti around the family room, I can give everyone a little insight into the fabric/crafting supplies that have taken over the house. And yes, for the record, I'd like to add that I am also listening to the washing machine AND the dishwasher running............because I like to live on the edge.

Soooooo, what happens when your obsession over fabric transforms itself into a new business? Let's take a look-see, shall we?

Tools of the trade:

After cursing 3 cheaper sewing machines, and spending way too much time and money on their constant repairs, I decided to buy myself one of these bad boys.
It has yet to disappoint.

Where would I be without my scissors and cutting board. Now, this is just one of MANY places that I end up cutting fabric during the day. This particular board is strategically placed in the first floor office, so I can sneak off and cut while my kids are happily playing together. I usually manage a good 2 minutes before someone is terrorizing someone else. My REAL space is my 5' x 6' cutting table that I managed to snag when Ben Franklin went out of business a few years ago.
A stack of hand-drawn/cut patterns.


Some of my cutting/measuring tools. Can you believe all FOUR of my pattern cutting weights made this picture? Usually at least one is missing because my kids like to pretend they're cannonballs.


Some fabric waiting to be sorted.





Multiple piles of luscious minky waiting to be made into blankets. Sometimes I dream about making minky angels in a pile with yards and yards of this fabulous material.

No worries, I would at least keep my clothes on. ;-)


A few bolts of twill waiting to be washed. Wait, is that my HUTCH in the picture? Oh, right, it's in my dining room at the moment.

A bolt of Joel Dewberry's Brown Sparrow print (one of my faves!). And yes, those are pictures of my son when he was 9-months old waving a Terrible Towel. Don't hate.

Some of the Dr. Seuss fabric that arrived earlier this week. It's already a huge hit!


Boxes waiting to be filled. We recycle here. This means that fabric comes in, the boxes are emptied, and then they sit in the front room and wait to be reused. Because really, why waste time crushing them, and then re-taping them. Besides, the piano needed some company out there.

Shipping supplies, postcards, Mei Tai directions, etc.


A new shipment of marketing supplies from Vistaprint.



This used to be a cute little nook that you can see when you walk in the front door. It's now a convenient place to store printed shipping labels before I package carriers. Klassy decor huh?


Mei Tai straps ready to be ironed. These are located on an ironing board in my family room. At least I can have something to distract me while my kids watch the same episode of "Backyardigans" or "Ben10" for the millionth time.


Some finished carriers and a finished apron. These are located on one of two ironing boards located in the basement, aka my sewing lair.

Some finished shoes and the much-needed lint rollers. The world of fine textiles is a dirty business.




Getting ready for the Baby and Toddler Expo next month. Don't these look fantastic in my hallway?


The computer where I am currently printing my shipping labels, since my laptop seemed unimpressed with the printer drivers that I unsuccessfully installed about a thousand times. It's from 1997, isn't she hot?!?


Some new bags for the show.

Some "in progress" shots.

And now for some pictures from the craft studio in the basement. Yes, sadly, most of the previous pictures were taken in the office or first floor.

The bin of zippers for bags.



Some bins for separating scraps of fabric. You didn't think I threw any good fabric away, did you?


Snaps for my snap press. I'm hoping to get some cloth diapers designed soon. You know, maybe when an extra hour pops up somewhere.


Another display from Ben Franklin. Wait, there's an empty space? Hmm, guess I need more fabric.

Some felt and miscellaneous tulle.

Fabric for cloth diapers.


Just some of my collection of Amy Butler fabrics. Can you spot the one piece of fabric that isn't Amy Butler?

Bags cut and ready to be assembled.









Another display courtesy of Ben Franklin going out of business. Yankee Candle has the most AWESOME displays!

And where would I be without a few superstitions, right?

This is the pattern I made for the body of the Mei Tai with one of the first fat quarters of fabric I bought when this entire thing got started. EVERY Mei Tai is cut out using this as the template.

I MUST wear these slippers when I sew at my machine. MUST.

THIS is the pile of clean cloth diapers that was in the dryer while I wrote this post. Because unfortunately, mother nature thought it was JULY when she chose the weather for today and it's like a bazillion degrees and 100% humidity out there.

So there you have it, a little glimpse into some of the chaos that we experience in this house on a regular basis. Isn't it GREAT!!!! :-)

And with that, I will leave you, because my daughter just handed me a sippy cup that I haven't seen in a loooong time, and I just hope it's WATER in there.

Another Deal Post

$16.44 total at Target

Thanks to all those $5 champion clothes they put out in August, $2 kids denim, and a few racks full of clearance items 75% off, we have some pretty nice new clothes for the entire family.

Deals

Rite Aid: $1.97 + $9 UP earned + $10 GC earned

I'm happy to say that these are probably the LAST disposables I will ever need (I like to keep some around for bad diaper rashes and vacations).

Regrets of the Dying

http://www.sarahwilson.com.au/2010/09/top-five-regrets-of-the-dying-what-will-be-yours/

It’s amazing how they’re really just the “regrets of the living”. I regret often that I’m not living to these principles. I’m conscious that working too hard and not choosing the happy choices is not “what life is meant to be about”. But somehow I think there’ll be time for that later…But, of course, habits form, days go by where you don’t stand back and have a good look at your life, and soon enough you’re 75.

My big mantra right now is: this isn’t a dress rehearsal. This is the real thing, there’s no run-up. You simply have to choose now to live out the things you fear you’ll regret. You choose to work less. You choose the happy option. No bones about it. And, besides, why bloody not?? I mean, really??

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people have had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.

2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.

This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.

We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.

It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.

Are you wishing you could let yourself be happier? What REALLY stops you from making that choice?

Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness.

Congratulations, you have arrived at your destination

I've probably said this before, but I'm not a baby person. I thoroughly enjoyed my own babies, and I made a conscious effort to soak up all the newborn cuddles I could get with Sadie, because I knew she would be my last. But, I'm not that "OMG, a baaaaaaaby!" person. Yes, for about 0.1 nanoseconds, when I see a newborn, I wish I had one to cuddle. But then I snap out of it and think "no way, I don't miss that AT ALL." My ute is perfectly fine with it's retired status.

You know that feeling when you finally finish something you've been working on forever? That point where you feel like you've been holding your breath, but now you can take one giant breath and the weight of the world just lifts off your shoulders?

I'm there. I.am.so.there.

I'm in looooooove with Kindergarten.

I'm excited and giddy when I wake up in the morning, because my son is now in Kindergarten.

Do you know why? Because I finally feel like I am the mom I always wanted to be. Sadie naps almost the entire time Ben is at school. Sometimes we'll have an hour for "just us girls", but for the most part, this is her naptime now. I have almost 3 hours to sew, to actually CLEAN my house, do laundry, drink HOT coffee, and just sit in the sun room breathing in fresh, cool fall air.

Congratulations, you have arrived at your destination. We'll call it..............HEAVEN.

And when Ben gets off the bus? Sadie and I are well-rested and can enthusiastically listen to him talk about his day. We talk, we do homework, we play. I get to be THAT mom now. I get to be the mom I fantasized about while my sleep-deprived self sat up night after night nursing a starving child every 2 hours. And I'm the best mom I've been. Well, at least it feels that way. When I'm tired and grumpy, I just feel like a big mom failure, but now that things have fallen into place and I'm getting things accomplished, I just FEEL like I'm such a better mom. It's not as much the break I needed, as the feeling like I was achieving more in my day than keeping my children from killing each other.

I may regret saying this in the middle of the tween/teen years, but, I like older kids. :-)

The days are long and the years are short

A friend of mine writes an article in the paper each week about her adventures in parenting. This week she said something that really hit me hard................the days are long and the years are short.

They are. They really are.

Sometimes a single day will seem to drag on forever, and I cannot wait until bedtime. But when we look at time in terms of passing birthdays, it never goes as slowly as we'd like it to.

A few weeks ago, I started researching my family tree on ancestry.com. I watched an episode of "Who Do You Think You Are?" with Sarah Jessica Parker and I started to have a deep desire to find out just that. Who am I? Where did I come from? What am I supposed to do?

Well, I realize that the answer to the last question won't be found on a website while the rest of my family is asleep, but the other two? Maybe, just maybe, I would find something that I didn't think I needed to know.

So I started researching my family. As I went backwards in time, and added new names as fast as they popped up on my screen, I had to stop myself and really take a look at what was taking shape. All these names, all these people lived real lives. They woke up every morning, they fell in love, they had families, and then they were gone. They lived entire lifetimes, and their names were simple "leaves" on one larger map spanning time as far back as the early 1600s.

These people knew happiness, and devastation. They watched their children die before seeing even one birthday. They knew little or nothing of almost everything we take for granted each day from the moment we awake, until we go to sleep at night. They were here for such a brief moment in time and now they're gone.

Someday that will be me. Someday my name will simply be one leaf on a larger tree with a beginning and an end. Can I be more? AM I more? Generations from now, when all the pictures and last tangible reminders of my existence are gone, what will I be?

Will I be nothing?

Do we only exist as long as we are remembered?

If there is nothing left to prove we once existed, did we? Am I just a vessel in time, between then and what is to come? Just a stepping stone to what will be? Did all those people back through time feel the same way, and have the same questions? Did they realize how many lives generations beyond their own they would be responsible for creating? How can all of this really be possible?

The House That Built Me

I know they say you can’t go home again
I just had to come back one last time
Ma’am I know you don’t know me from Adam
But these handprints on the front steps are mine

Up those stairs in that little back bedroom
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar
I bet you didn’t know under that live oak
My favorite dog is buried in the yard

I thought if I could touch this place or feeling
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could walk around I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me

Mama cut out pictures of houses for years
From Better Homes and Gardens magazine
Plans were drawn and concrete poured
Nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mama’s dream

I thought if I could touch this place or feeling
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could walk around in I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me

You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can
I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am

I thought if I could touch this place or feeling
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I walk around I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me