t-shirt shopping bags
August 19, 2008
OK, it’s time to share the how-to on my shopping bag idea. Since I’ve discovered that I’m not the only one who has figured out that T-shirts make great shopping bags and I’m not going to make a million-dollars doing these, I’m sharing.
Here it goes:
Cut the neck and arms off of the shirt, leaving about 1/4 inch of cloth along with the seam on the sleeve.
Next, turn in-side-out and fold the sides over about 2 inches on each side.
Sew 2 seams across the bottom for extra strength.
Tug on all the raw edges and the fabric will curl so you don’t have to hem.
Turn it right side out and fold the shoulder seams in, then stitch across each to triple the top which forms the top of each handle:
Whala! In about 8 minutes, you have a very strong shopping bag.
Pick out cool tie-dye shirts for the full flower-child effect. I get mine at thrift shops for roughly .75 cents each. Cashiers at the grocery store love these bags. They won’t rip and they are great for carrying watermelons or gallons of milk…everything! Best of all, they are recycled, easy to wash, and much easier to carry than a plastic shopping bag.
Make about 10 of them for your shopping trips. Be green and be cool! The hardest part is remembering to keep the bags in the car and actually bring them to the store. I especially like to take them to Aldi and skip the quarter-in-the-cart routine if I have only a few items to get. Just sling these bags over your shoulder and load them up while you shop. (Hey, did you know that Aldi and Trader Joe’s are owned by the same company? Paul just saw it in the Chicago Tribune’s business section last week!)
This is a great project for kids who are just learning to sew. You can’t goof it up. It would be a great camp project by using just needle and thread as opposed to a bunch of sewing machines. Kids could learn how to sew by hand…a slowly dying craft.
staged!
August 14, 2008
The living room is DONE!
The dining room is DONE!
The kitchen is DONE!
Our last frontier is the basement then we’re ready to go! We’re only a few weeks away from putting a sign in the yard and we’ll pray for the next miracle—wonderful people who will buy our house and be good neighbors. Our house is the epicenter of this block. 1837 Natchez is a natural gathering place on warm summer days. Our neighbors know where to get a scoop of sugar or egg. So why are we leaving? Because school is too hard in Chicago. How can I put my little Nathan on a school bus and make him ride for an hour each way? The CPS preschool which he would go to is excellent, but when he turns five, the options for his education are just plain bad. And Miika would have to attend a private school or a CPS school that would involve a long commute. I just want to walk my children to the same neighborhood school. We absolutely LOVE our Chicago neighbors which is the hardest part of this whole process. But education out-weighs all the other factors. Oh, and we’ll miss this storybook house. We’ve put our heart and soul into it. We bought it with boarded up windows, dead mice, sagging kitchen cabinets, no light fixtures, no appliances, wood floors hidden with gray carpet and a sordid past. The previous owners were running a drug ring out of here. The front door had been busted in with a ram rod by the Feds. Now that all the riff-raff is gone this is a fantastic block of Chicago for someone who does not have to worry about educational issues. The relationships in our neighborhood border on utopian. That is no exageration.
The earth is moving under our feet. Two days ago God let us in on what has been in the works all summer. He provided the perfect piece of a puzzle that has made our heads spin. We’ve been in a cloud for the past few days. Paul has a job…can’t tell all the details yet until the dotted line is signed. But we’ve both signed the first pieces of paper necessary. I don’t think this is going to fall through. I’m amazed at the way our experience has providentially come together as a perfect fit for this next chapter. It won’t all be easy. In fact, some parts of the picture are incomplete. But I’m confident that everything will work out. I just can’t wait to tell the whole story.
signs and wonders
August 11, 2008
I dashed out to Target this morning to pick up a few things and left the kids home with Paul. On the way home, I had a conversation with God regarding our current circumstances. You see, I vacillate between panic and peace every day. Sometimes I feel a deep sense of, “it’s-gonna-be-OK.” Then, the next moment I start to hyperventilate, break out in hives and feel my stomach twisting and prickling.
“Dear God, please open a door for Paul. I need to be home with my kids and working from home. He can’t make money at home, I can and I don’t want to move to another state and be ripped away from friends and family. Can’t we just stay right here? Nathan has five therapies a week. Miika needs to be taken to and from school. I need a sign, I need a pillar of clouds, some fire by night, something, anything, just show me the way.”
Well, as I was praying in traffic waiting for a red light, I pulled up behind a little blue car with a sign in the rear window that said, “PLEASE BE PATIENT.”
It stopped my frantic, rambling prayer in its tracks. That had to be a message for me. It’s not the first time typography has screamed out at me with words that I needed to hear. Yes, the perfect scripture has been read to me, or I’ve read it, or a sermon has been apropos to what I’ve been going through. But on several occasions, I believe God has used other means of communicaton to get my attention. After Nathan’s birth, a piece of junk mail had words that I needed to hear: change my opinion, change my persuasion, change my life, change my mood (a really cool piece from gettyimages). I was scrambling around the house today trying to find a fortune cookie message that I kept for the same reason. I was pregnant with Nathan and the fortune cookie said something about how we’d have a new addition to our family who would bring great joy. Yup, God speaks in ways that we as individuals understand.
All of this got me to thinking how a few weeks ago I sat at a table with the parents of some very prominent missionaries to Pakistan. They mentioned how many people were still coming to Christ in the Middle East because of a dream or a vision that convinced them that Jesus was and is the Messiah. These experiences with messages from unsuspecting sources should be tested and aligned with scripture in order to be believed. But then again, some of us are just simple people who need simple words of wisdom from unlikely places in order to keep us on track.
Yes, we have scripture to dig through and hold on to. But sometimes God just jars us or taps us on the shoulder to let us know that he’s really watching. It’s not a coincidence, it’s a little sign to keep us from wondering why we are going through hard times and a reminder to trust.
faith
August 6, 2008
Christian, what do you believe?
And the words of the Apostles Creed flow automatically from memory.
But what do I really believe when life is unpredictable and uncomfortable. Is this really God’s plan for us?
Ever since Paul’s contract ended, I’ve felt like we were in a raft on a river headed for a waterfall. The waterfall is now two weeks away, but my anxiety is actually less. I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s just a self-defense mechanism? Or is it the peace that is beyond understanding? I’m not sure right now. I just feel like the pieces of our puzzle will soon come together. Last week, as a family, we went and investigated an opportunity that would involve all of us…not going into details, because it could all fizzle. Let’s just say that involves a cabin in the woods…
Meanwhile, we are fixing this house, pitching stuff, and “staging.” Oh, that dreaded word! For a few brief moments, the junk gets cleared from the dining room table, fresh flowers from the garden are set in the middle…then a few days later, the flowers wilt and drop their petals, the mail stacks up and there are tools, crafts and clutter on the table, etc… Same thing with every other room in the house. Staging is a joke with small children and messy people living here. We just need to stage it and run…to that cabin in the woods! Then get our binoculars and watch from afar to see if the house gets any nibbles.
a magic day
August 2, 2008
The weather could not have been better…somewhere around 84 degrees and dry. Today was our annual block party day. Everything was absolutely perfect. The kids on the block jumped for hours in the rented jumping jack, they also had the run of the street, riding their bikes and playing every classic summer game possible. One of our neighbors is a belly dancer and gave all the brave women and girls lessons…yup I did it…great fun. The guys sat around in a circle talking about music and strumming guitars. We had a talent show, water balloon toss, musical chairs, and just a lot of fun. The whole day was topped off by a movie in one neighbor’s back yard…a sheet up on the garage, a laptop, popcorn, blankets in the grass… I can’t help but wonder if these days will be magic for Miika. Will she say, “I remember when….”
As for Nathan, there was so much music and excitement that he stayed close. One of our neighbors gave him a toy guitar and he was completely mesmerised by it…our little music man. It was nice not to have to chase him all day which is often what we have to do when we are at outdoor events.
Truly a magical day…
figuring out sleep
July 27, 2008
Getting Nathan to sleep through the night has been a 2 1/2-year journey. His first six months, he slept like…well…a baby! After that it’s been a mostly downhill journey. It’s an exhausting story so I won’t go into every detail, but basically just when I think I have it all figured out, Nathan throws me a curve. About six months ago, I had finally been able to just lay him down in his crib and he’d go to sleep within minutes. It lasted about a month or so, but somewhere along the line, he started to freak out again, screaming when I’d leave the room, etc. I just could not take that anymore, so I’d stand by his crib and stroke his face and arms until he’d calm down and dose off. That worked for a while but he’d still start to stir around 11pm, kicking the side of the crib, getting his feet stuck between the bars and completely freaking himself out. Sometimes it would take an hour to calm him down, to the point of turning on the lights, reading a few books and starting the bedtime routine all over again.
Then I thought maybe it was time to ditch the crib and get the youth bed out. He loved climbing into it at night and I could just sit on the floor beside him and read while he curled up, listened, and dosed off. But his flailing at 11pm-ish didn’t stop. Plus, no matter how I blocked him into the youth bed, he’d wiggle out and fall on the floor. I even put a 2nd mattress on the open side to for him to fall on, but he’d roll off of that and end up across the room at 2am, then again around 4am. That’s what’s been happening for the past 3 weeks. Three nights ago, I decided to ditch the youth bed and just put the two crib-sized mattresses side by side in the little nook of his room that surrounds them perfectly, layered the mattresses with two down comforters and then I put a border of pillows around the perimeter of the “bed.” Basically it’s like a big nest. For three nights, he’s slept from about 8:30pm straight through until 7am.
I should add that I really don’t think Nathan’s sleep issues can be blamed on Down syndrome. I’ve talked to enough other DS parents who simply put their kids in their crib or bed and the child goes right to sleep all night, no problem. I think this is just my Nathan who needs lots of space to sleep. He always sleeps just fine in our bed when I’m too tired to fight. But Nathan is a sun dial sleeper (which completely explains why the crib does not work). If Nathan is with us, he starts out parallel with us and by morning Paul and I are clinging to the outer six-inches of a king-sized bed and Nathan is like Leonardo Davinci’s Vitruvian Man, perpendicular to us.
With the exception of what I had thought was a sleep victory a few months ago, figuring out that Nathan needs a NEST to sleep in is monumental!!!! I’m holding my breath though, and trying not to celebrate too much yet.
However, yesterday we had a garage sale and I got rid of both the crib and the youth bed. We’re on to the next phase and chapter of sleep issues. So far, so good.
food creations
July 23, 2008
I’m not a recipe person, or a kit person. I don’t read instructions to gadgets. On rare occasions, when forced into a corner, I’ll make a box cake or cupcakes which require reading and following a recipe. On even rarer occasions, I’ll actually make a batch of cookies and force myself to follow the rules. But, I AM a good cook. All that to say, I concocted a really good pasta salad this weekend that I’ll attempt to share, but the best I can do for a recipe is to “ish” it.
Here it goes:
Some Kind of Asian Pasta Salad
1 box of whole wheat spaghetti (boiled and chilled ahead of time, add some sesame oil to keep it from sticking together)
1/2 can black beans
a few handfuls of bean sprouts
about 1/2 cup of black lentils (Trader Joes has them in a clear bag for salads)
thinly sliced red pepper
2-3 scallions
1 carrot shredded
a few tablespoons of toasted sesame seeds
1 cup-ish of chopped cilantro
THE DRESSING
Get a cereal-sized bowl and start mixing the following:
about 1/4 cup peanut butter
about 1/4 cup sesame oil
a few tablespoons of white wine vinegar
a few tablespoons of soy sauce
a few tablespoons of honey
a few dashes of dry ginger
a clove of garlic or a few dashes of garlic powder
same amount of onion powder
I really have no idea what the quantities for the above dressing are because I just kept mixing and adding until the balance of sweet, sour, and salty was just right. There are a few recipies on line to start the thing rolling, but none of them had enough stuff to stand alone.
And NO, my kids would not eat it, but it was a total HIT at the picnic that we took it to. Not a scrap left by the end of the night. The skinny model attending the gathering heaped it on her plate and I know for a fact she only eats tidbits here and there to maintain her lovely figure. So, I took it as a compliment to see her finally EAT!!!
Try it, you’ll LOVE it!
proud mama
July 21, 2008
Last Tuesday when the kids and I were at Nathan’s playgroup, Nathan picked up a hand from Mr. Potatohead and started waving it, saying clearly, “Hi.” That was a first! For the last week, he’s been using his new word to greet friends, family, and perfect strangers. I could not be happier! Seems like a simple thing, but when your child is not very verbal, each word that emerges is like a jewel…and mama likes to wear it.
I bombard Nathan with the alphabet, numbers, and colors constantly. We make letters out of play dough, I draw them on the Magna-Doodle, we have little foam letters in the bath tub that stick to tile when wet, talking ABC toys and of course books, books, books. Well it’s working because now Nathan knows his ABCs. I’ve read about kids with Down syndrome who didn’t really get the alphabet until they were five or six years old. Well, I’m proud to say that Nathan not only can identify them, but he can say the sounds that most of them make…and he’s two-and-a-half!!! I guess what I’m really trying to say here, is that nobody should give up on their child or withhold information and learning opportunities from them just because they have a disability. Pile on the teaching and push them!
My husband, Paul, and our neighbor Kelly often like to discuss educational issues. Both are teachers. So I hear buzz words like “differentiation” and “modalities” on a regular basis. I know there is a lot of debate about how much to cater to the vast differences between children when the class is full of 25 – 30 kids. Afterall, there’s one teacher who has to get through a lesson every day in a timely fashion. So, there may not be extra time for songs and dance in order to get the information to sink into every little mind. On the other hand, as a parent, I have the luxury of singing, dancing, drawing, sculpting, and standing on my head of need be in order to help my kids learn. Miika knew her ABCs at 18 months, now Nathan has them figured out at 2 1/2. The dog and pony show has paid off and it’s so rewarding.
Paul was talking to a family member on the phone last week, telling them about Nathan’s progress and she was amazed. After Paul hung up, he told me about their conversation, to which I replied, “most people who don’t actually know and love someone with Down syndrome, think they have little vegetable brains.” Basically, folks are just ignorant and unaware. If I accomplish nothing else with this blog, my hope is to communicate that children with DS are beautiful, smart, priceless, funny, endearing gifts that should be treasured, nurtured, and trained to grow up to be all they can be. I personally have great expectations for both of my kids and as a result, they are both high achievers. I don’t want to take all the credit, but I do want to emphasize how important it is to give 200%. I’m just like any other mom, tired, overworked, and short on time. On most nights I drop into bed around midnight and my work is still not done. Then I’m up around 6am to do it all over again. And I don’t always do it well, whatever it is…some days I’m not sure what I’ve accomplished because the list will often not have anything crossed off. So, I remind myself that my son knows his letters, my daughter is reading, and I’m proud as can be!
stuff!
July 15, 2008
For days and nights, I’ve been sorting through everything…to keep or not to keep? I’ve learned that the longer you keep certain items, the easier it is to toss them. I had a whole file of what I used to consider well-designed brochures and booklets—saved for inspiration. But now they seem so outdated and passe….TOSS. Oh, and the endless envelopes of photos that did not make the cut for the photo albums…what to do with them? I am so thankful for digital cameras, so I don’t have to develop every photo in order to see what’s good and then struggle to pitch the bad shots. Old memories long forgotten bubble to the top. Perhaps the only time I’ve looked at some of these stored items is when we’ve been in transition. I just keep lugging this stuff around, can’t quite part with it, not sure what to do with it. Paintings and illustrations from art school…mmm…I’ll never hang them on my wall, never give them as gifts… I know, I’ll let someone else throw them away! So in they go to the donation box, signed and dated like messages in bottles sent out to sea.
Down in my basement is an old dusty metal box which contains my mother’s divorce papers. My grandma brought it all the way to Chicago from Lower Burrell, PA a few years ago. I’ve never opened it until a few days ago. I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning reading my mother’s account of what happened to me when I was five. I remember the events because I was there, but my mom wasn’t. After loosing custody, my dad took me away from her and she did not know where we were for six months. In this box are very articulate, type-written letters to lawyers, local police captains, judges, and old friends, all in search of me. I can’t imagine going through all of that, not knowing if Miika was safe and spending every waking moment looking for her. From my perspective, I’ve always known most of the details of this trip to California, because it was my experience. But my mom had to put all the pieces of the puzzle together during and after my disappearance. Opening that metal box was like replaying old movie reels that flicker across the screen, full of scratches and dust in dull colors: mossy green, pink, brown and gray. If it were a movie, there would be a beaded curtain opening to a little flower child running barefoot down a gravel road. She was probably never really alone, but the adults nearby were only partially aware of her, lost in their self-induced haze, a rainbow of long hair, flowing skirts, bra-less halter tops, peace and love, dancing with their eyes wide shut. Head shops, health food stores, homeless groupies wandering aimlessly, panhandling to buy the next meal. My dad likes to boast about our attendance at a private party where Jerry Garcia performed.
When we watch the evening news in the aftermath of a tornado, the victims always morn the loss of family photos, priceless moments that can’t be replaced. We all have the need to preserve these time capsules so don’t we bury the past with the present. We need to look back at the journey to see how far we’ve come. I think everyone wants to be known and remembered. Good or bad, we want to tell our children our stories. So, we keep the boxes and boxes of memories. I remember sitting on my grandparents’ “davenport” listening to my grandmother tell me stories while we looked at black and white photos of her family…my family. I was bored silly, but sat there taking it in. One day several years ago, it dawned on me that her memories were in color, not cepia. Now that my grandmother’s memory is fading, I wish that I could replay all those family history lessons.
So, no matter what happens to this house or when, at least it will be clean for a while and we will have purged the non-essentials, an arduous and relentless task. But most importantly, as I go through all this stuff, I’m reminded of the Strong Hand who kept me safe when human eyes were not watching me—a Hand with a plan for our future.
black swallowtail release
July 7, 2008
Today the second of of our two black swallowtails emerged from its chrysalis. What a thrill for my kids! What a thrill for me! We invited our neighbors to come over for the little “ceremony.” Here’s the link to the release: http://www.youtube.com/user/LiitaForsyth
After we let the butterfly go, it landed on the window sill and seemed to be stuck, so Miika went and got it. The swallowtail then crawled up her arm and stayed on her hair for about 10 minutes before flying away. She loved every second…my bug girl. As long as she knows a bug won’t bite, they are like magnets. Lightning bugs, last year’s cicadas, lady bugs, inch worms, etc… she loves ‘em.
