Winged Feet Fundraising Opportunity

My awesome friend Kristen Stewart (no, not THAT Kristen Stewart) is a graphic designer, photographer, writer, reader, Jesus lovin' hipster Mom birthing babies in bathtubs, Tarheel superwoman has generously offered to donate 50% of all sales from her Etsy Shop Winged Feet from today, Monday January 23rd until the end of the month.  No need to put in a promo code, no need to tell her you know me.  Just shop and receive some of the cutest printables around.  This is really a great deal and one I would love if you would tweet about or link to your wall on facebook.  Even if you don't buy, that's a simple way to help in a fundraiser that doesn't find me hunched over my dining room table with a glue gun at 2 am.  

If the whole promotion weren't about raising money for our adoption, here is what I would buy.

 Family rules which I would get in gray and hang in our upstairs hall between the kids' rooms.

I'd get a Virginia one with the heart in Richmond for Henry with his birthday.  A Virginia one with the heart in Charlottesville for Gracie.  And a red and yellow China one with the heart in whatever province he is born in for Charlie.

 

And I would get this for Charlie's baptism invitation.  

(Let's briefly pretend that I haven't already discussed the menu with Sloan and that Sloan did not roll his eyes at me.)

The Plum Panda

I promise that every upcoming post will not be about adoption fundraisers.  That said, I do plan to announce my new avenue to raise funds and to invite you to join in.  

I have created a facebook “shop” where folks can “buy” items by donating to our adoption fund at AdoptionJourney.Org.  I will be making picture frames, yarn wreaths (because I’m kinda addicted to felt flowers), and bows.  I’m sure there will be other crafts for sale as well as time goes.  As items are made, they will be posted on the site.  Items can also be commissioned for personalization. 

Folks have been sending me coupons to various craft stores and even donating items like paint, ribbon, and yarn to help the cause.  It’s been humbling to see how many folks are already loving our child.

Some folks have also generously offered their gifts, talents, and vacation properties to help the cause.  These items will be auctioned off after the New Year.  (Mainly so I’m not ignoring my kids during Christmas.)  Just to tease you, here are some items that have already been donated—some beautiful handmade pottery, some graphic art from an artist in Austin, TX (so you know it’s wicked cool), a photography session in Dallas with a professional photographer, and two one week stays at a Lake front beach condo in Litchfield By the Sea, SC.  So yeah, your family’s beach vacation could help bring an orphan into a forever family.  And that is just what people messaged me about in 15 minutes last night.

SO PLEASE OH PLEASE, LIKE “THE PLUM PANDA” ON FACEBOOK and invite your friends to as well.  Please share this post on facebook and twitter and click the “Like the Plum Panda” button in my sidebar.  

And oh yeah, why the Plum Panda?  Well, because we are adopting a special needs child from China.  And the Chinese are believed to be the first to cultivate plums and you’ve been living under a rock if the whole Pandas are from China is news to you.  Also, let’s be clear…how cute is a purple panda?  And my cute purple panda crafted by the generous Ali Fogarty?  A. Door.  A. Bull.

And why not just ask for donations?  Well, for one there is the whole people judging us thing.  And making things is a way for me to relax and be productive while patiently waiting on the Lord to do His thing to bring our child home.  But even more than that, I believe that it takes a village.  And that my family is part of the larger family of God.  And so this holy village will do great things in His name and for our child.  So it is an invitation to be a part of what God is doing.  Perhaps you have a talent we could auction off?  Perhaps you have a small business you’d like to promote?  Or perhaps you’d like to get a custom handcrafted item for a wedding present or baby shower?  Or perhaps you don't have money, but you'd sure love to help and you also like to cook.  Well, I can tell you people would probably be willing to donate $15-20 for you to deliver them a homecooked meal one night.  Everyone is gifted by God with something.  I'm simply asking you to honor Him and bless an orphan with the gifts you've been given.  (Forgive me if that sounded a little too Jim Baker/PTL for you.  It did for me.)

From time to time, I will feature some items on this blog in a feature called “Fundraising Friday”.  And there will always be a link to the Facebook page on this blog.  And, when I get the time, I’ll have another page on this blog or perhaps another blog devoted to it.  

Won’t you join us in seeing God at work? 

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Thanks to a church school craft, there are two baby Jesuses in our homemade shoebox and pine needle manger.  Or is it Jesusi?  Jesusen?  Las dos crías Cristos?

The Henry Phillips Express

Today we had Henry's 4th birthday party.  Originally we always said that we'd only do big parties on the odd numbered years, but...

In my defense, we had it at home.  I got the invites from Etsy and printed them at home.  It was from 2-4, so we only had to serve cake.  And I made the party favors.  And there was a pinata. 

And 16 4 years olds.

It was a BLAST.  A noisy, tiring, sugar filled blast!  I'd originally planned to have it all outside, but with cloudy skies and temps barely pushing 60, we pulled everything indoors which turned out for the best.

And here are the pictures that prove it.

The invite...

(And yes, this is the pic of the one I ordered.  We got it personalized with our info.)

From Anders Ruff.  Check out their store on Etsy. 

The cake...

Henry helped me to make it.  Chocolate Devil's Food Cake with buttercream icing.  The kids all wanted some of the marshmallow bumpers (the things that look like alligator eyeballs), so I just got the bag of Marshmallows from the pantry and passed them out.

Wooden Island of Sodor trains in the sunroom.  Wonderfully set up for maximum playing and minimum need for sharing by my excellent husband.

Lego Island of Sodor in the family room.  (Please disregard the child picking his nose on the couch.  The kid has allergies, OK?  And sometimes his Mommy forgets to Neosporin his nose at night.)

The kiddos in their train birthday shirts one of the teacher's at Henry's school made for them.

A little birthday love.

The herd of cats about to sing!

Blowing out the candles.  (With a little help from T.  Who, by the way, goes to live with her awesome forever family on Monday.  Playdates have been promised for the fall, but I know we will all miss her dearly.)

Pinata time.  Every got to hit it four times.  It still didn't break.  So then we pulled the toddler friendly strings.  But I filled it with too much candy so it didn't fall out.  (It called for 2 lbs of candy.  Um, I filled it with close to 10 lbs of candy.  Can't you tell my dad's a dentist?!)

Then it was time to pass out the party favors and play with them.  Each kid got their own train box made by yours truly.

 They were a hit. 

 A big hit.

 Even Gracie loved them, despite her hating them when I was making them.

Hey, Nathan.  You can't have three.  My Mommy made ones for each of your sisters, so just wait until you get home to make a train tower. 

We couldn't find Henry for awhile.  He and his girlfriend, Aimee, snuck off to eat the ENTIRE contents of the bags they filled up from the pinata.  Tonight, before going to bed he said, "I need to bwush my teeth.  And then I need to poop because I've got too much candy in my tummy."  Nice.

And nothing rounds out a good time like extra cuddles and tickles from Aunt Sonya. 

Happy (early) birthday my sweet boy! 

You have and continue to make our lives extraordinary!

First day of school 5th grade essay

I love summer because during summer I can actually enjoy my children.  No meetings to get to.  No Bible Study to lead.  No preschool to drop off and pick up.  It doesn't hurt that I've trained my kids to sleep in until 8:30.  Yeah, we have playdates, swim lessons, and Dinosaur camp, but these things are not the norm and are simply minor breaks.  Henry enjoys summer because he is actually able to play with his toys and is not stuck in the car running endless errands.  We can go to the pool, the zoo, the children's museum, the movies--but mostly, we like to simply hang out at home build legos, do crafts, and read book after book after book with nowhere to be. 

Every June I feel this way;  I vow to not put as much on my plate for the next school year.  And every August I somehow end up volunteering for umpteen different things.  Part of it, I am certain, is that by nature I am a homebody.  An introvert.  Yeah, I know.  It's a shocker for most people to hear that.  But whenever I go somewhere with other people, after a few hours I am drained.  Girls weekends and women's retreats, though fun and important, usually end with me exhausted, grumpy, and suffering from gastro-intestinal distress. 

During the school year, I do a lot of talking about living, thinking about living, and preparing for living.  In summer, we just live.  And when we just live, we do cool things like transform the sunroom into a playroom and turn boxes into trains...

Snowed In

I grew up going to camp kamp every summer.  (Yes, I intentially spelled it with a k.  I went to Kanakuk, where all things begin with K.)  And each year we'd go spelunking.  At some point in the expedition, we'd all be instructed to turn out our lights.  It is very dark in caves.  We'd all sit silently in the dark trying to see if we could see our hands if we put them on our faces.  We could not.  Eventually, someone would start laughing or yelling, because in that darkness you think for a brief second, Hey, maybe I'm alone in here.  Happened every time.  With all this snow, I feel a bit like I did then--hollering to see if there is any life out there.  This cabin fever is exacerbated by Sloan being out of town for work and so I'm snowed in with the kiddos.  Yes, my driveway has been cleared as have all streets in my neighborhood.  But it is super cold and I just can't justify taking Gracie out in the cold just to get the one thing we don't have--bananas.  (No matter how much it makes my son cry at breakfast.  I had to substitute with a Chocolate Chip Zbar this morning to make it alright that Yes, we have no bananas.  We have no bananas today.)  I found myself staring at the Live feed on Facebook, willing someone to update their status.  I have won over 2 million studs on Wii Lego Star Wars.  I've done about four loads of laundry while Wii-ing, so in my mind, that makes it less dorky.  We don't need to talk about how I looked up walkthroughs on the internet. 

I don't have any cute pics of Henry in the snow.  Because it is up to his knees and it took all of 15 minutes for him to be over it.  We wore pajamas all weekend.  As in, we woke up and changed into new pajamas for the day.  We've watched Nemo and Ratatouille.  I've read every Thomas book known to man.  Twice.  We've eaten grilled cheeses for no less than three meals.  We've taken baths simply because there is nothing else to do.  Yes, I could be cleaning out my closets, cleaning the fridge, or potty training Henry.  Don't wanna.  We did, however, do some pretty good crafting tonight.

Friends, meet Henry in his "Bo-bot Box."

My mother in law sent some clothes to Sloan today in this box.  Henry was so excited because he thought it had Legos in it.  Boo hiss to the clothes.  So he stuck it on his head.  Which lit a lightbulb over mine.

And then we painted it!

I'll post pics of the final product later.

But the cutest part of the Bobot Box was the following conversation Henry had with himself while wearing it.  He was looking at his reflection in the windows along the back of our kitchen.

Who is it?  Is it Mommy?  No!  Is it Santa?  No.  Is it Jesus?  No.  It's Henwy bobot box!

(Don't you just love how he asked if it was Jesus?  I will have to remind him in a decade that he knew he wasn't God at age two...)

Nothing a bath can't cure

Now here's a craft for you. A woman in my Bible Study, upon receiving our Christmas card, painted this portrait of the pickle. Are you kidding me?

And totally unrelated, I am now considering re-entering the mother of the year contest. This morning, since it is finally sunny and warm, I took the pickle to the playground. And yes, a lot of the apparatus were still wet from the rain, but unless you're the Wicked Witch of the North, a little water never hurt anybody, right? So could someone please explain to me why I was the only mom allowing her son to go down the slides? And ride on the rocking turtle and dinosaur. And play in the sandbox. Sure--he got soaked. And dirty. D.I.R.T.Y. But it's only water and sand people! I even heard one mom tell her son not to run in the playground because the mulch was slippery. Geesh! I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

My son is so going to be able to beat those kids up because he won't be a sissy, thank you very much.

Craft #1--For Grayson Brock

Happy Birth-day, Grayson Ryan Brock! You are the (hopefully) proud recipient of craft #1.

That 1% will get you every time

Transcript from phone conversation...

EJ: Well, when the cable guy leaves we've got to go to Target to pick up some onesies.

Sloan: Onesies?

EJ: Yeah, I posted this craft contest on my blog and I've...

Sloan: (sound that sounded like he was spitting out a drink) What?

EJ: (blushing) I posted this craft contest on my blog?

Sloan: A craft contest. On your blog.

EJ: Yeah, and I need to pick up some onesies so I can make...

Sloan: (laughing) I want to go back to this craft contest.

EJ: Yeah. What about it?

Sloan: I swear. 99% percent of the time you are the coolest person I know. But that other 1%--you're a dork. A big dork. D. O. R. K.

And the winners are...

Okay, so I said I would only make 5 crafts. But I do so love crafting and am having fun coming up with different things for different people. But I'm heading to bed tonight and already have 8 people on deck so I'm closing it up. With Sloan traveling a lot for work, crafts give me something to do while watching TV so I may be posting this offer again soon.

Also, for some of you I will need addresses and such--but the craft winners are: Meg Jokinen, Jenny Riggs, Lindsey Jay, Mary Vollono Riley, ET Stevens, Jenn Warren, Jenny Brock (and maybe a little something for baby Grayson that is coming on Friday!), and Magda in Austin.

Everyone is going to get something different and I'm doing them in the order in which I received the requests. (Except I may jump ahead and do the Brock's gifts out of order as the bambino arrives soon.)

Meg, you're up first. The only hint you are getting is that I literally laughed so hard I peed in my pants tonight when I began it. Which is fitting, because I'm pretty sure wetting myself was par for the course when we hung out. It may also take some rooting around for some photos and videos at my parents house, because nothing makes a craft greater than us peeing in our pants on film while singing karaoke at Disney world.

Get your craft on

Below is copied from my dear friend Kristen's blog. It just stinks big time that I missed getting in on some of her crafty goodness because that girl has mad sewing skills. But I'm pretty crafty myself, so here ya go...

I love making stuff, so the first five people to respond to this post (from here or on facebook) will get something made by me.

This offer does have some restrictions so please read carefully:*

• I make no guarantees that you will like what I make.
• What I create will be just for YOU.
• It will be done this year (2009).
• It will be something made in the real world and not something over the internet.
• It might be a mix CD, a knitted scarf, a quilted potholder, poem, baked goods, an original photograph, a poem or a photograph of a poem about baked goods and quilted potholders…who knows! There are other things it might be too, but I promise whatever it is, it will be made for YOU and with YOU in mind!

On Kristen's blog, she also said that in return, all you need to do is post this on your blog or facebook and make 5 things for 5 other people. But I am going to require none of this--because I think it is much harder to be meek and simply say thank you. And it is lent, a time when we reflect on our inability to pay God back for all that has been done for us in Jesus' death and resurrection. So my challenge is that you cannot pay it forward. You must simply say thank you.

*Void where prohibited, use only as directed, for a limited time only, store in a cool dry place.

Thank you, Ferris

Life moves pretty fast.

If you don't stop and look around once in awhile,

you could miss it.

--Ferris Bueller*

Sloan is out of town until Thursday and he only asked one thing of me while he was gone--"Just enjoy Henry." You see, I've been threatening a full on cleaning smackdown this week in preparation for Christmas decorations. And I am cleaning. Slowly. But I'm also obeying my husband and enjoying Henry. And control of the remote control. Last night I stayed up past midnight painting Henry's Christmas present (a double sided train/car landscape thingy the exact dimensions of our coffee table--I know. It's awesome and I'm smart.) and watching House. Thank you USA for running a House marathon and thank you to whomever invented DVR.

But in addition to loving my craft time, I'm loving my little man. Today, I didn't rush him across the gym parking lot like I usually do. I don't know why I rush him. We're just going home. And at home there are chores to do. But I just let Henry take the lead (ok, as much of the lead as you can take while still holding your Mommy's hand). We strolled down the ramp then came back up the steps twice. We shook people's hands and waved at people. We pulled up grass, stuck our heads through each of the empty "U's" at both bike racks, hugged trees, picked up rocks and sticks, watched people start their cars, watched people pull out, touched headlights, and even sat down and played with the velcro on our shoes a couple of times. (And by we, I'm mainly meaning Henry. My shoes have laces.) It was probably the best 15 minutes I've spent in days.

So maybe I oughtta listen to Sloan more. Seems like I've said this before...


*In college, I wrote a paper comparing Ferris Bueller to Benjamin Franklin as sorts of colloquial spokesmen for their respective generations. I got a "B" with the following comment--"Elizabeth, it is a shame you are an A student who is content to receive a B. Perhaps your next paper, in addition to being well written and humorous, will actually pertain to American literature." My next paper was on Emerson and Walt Whitman. My thesis was that these two men did not think the university system could accurately measure my worth so what does my grade really matter?

Henry's Christmas Stocking

I finally finished my first of about a million sewing projects for Christmas. Henry's Christmas stocking.

At the Gun Show

It is crazy hot here. Our AC is on the fritz and I'm dying--it is 85 degrees in our condo. We may begin making pottery. The AC guy is supposed to be here between 2 and 4. But in the meantime, we are trying to dress appropriately. Unfortunately, Henry has outgrown most of his summer clothes and the clothes that I purchased for fall are too warm. So he has been reduced to what I've come to call his "Mansie." I first made the Mansie on the day he was christened as the gown was linen and itchy, but I needed something with no sleeves, so we just chopped the sleeves off of a onesie. It is a bit of a wife beater and a bit south beach drag queen and 100% hot!! Check out those muscles on my son!!! Is he a plumber? Cause the boy's got some pipes? That's right, ladies--he's the main attraction at the gun show. We're thinking about getting him a barbed wire bicep tatoo.

Stinky Pickles and Bricks

I am trying to decide what I like best about being a mommy. Someone lighting up whenever I enter a room, an audience for my singing, dressing my own live doll, getting to watch Guiding Light every day, cuddles, kisses, and teeny tiny toes.

But there is also a dark side. I've gotten spit up on so many times that I now have a permanent sour milk smell. Seriously. Henry is teething and so there is more spit up than usual. I've taken to wiping myself off with baby wipes instead of bathing. (If I took a shower every time I got spit up on me, my hair would probably fall out.) Last night there was so much of it I had to call Sloan to come take Henry so I could change clothes. Ugh. But sweet.

Henry now has two favorites. It used to just be me, no one else. But now he likes Daddy too. Check out these pictures. The first is of me trying to get Henry to smile--I was making funny faces, singing, jumping up and down. The second is Sloan walking in the room and simply saying, "Hey Pickles." (Pickles is our little pet name for him. We have no idea where it came from.) I'm happy that Henry loves his daddy, but a bit sad at him loving both of us equally. I'm warped.

I'm also becoming dorky. I came home from my first day of Bible Study yesterday and told Sloan, "There's this cute girl in my small group. She's really pretty, also has a new baby boy, and dresses cool. I hope I can make her my friend." Sloan said, "Really? Maybe you should ask Mom if she can come over to play. What are you, twelve?"

To add to my dorkdom I'm becoming domestic. In addition to my regular craftiness, I'm taking sewing classes and am really excited about it. I'm making this cowboy themed bag for Henry. If I turn any more into a dork I'm just going to have to shoot myself. At least I'm not a brick expert. (Sloan watched this show on the History channel about bricks and there was this tool of a British guy whose title was "Brick Historian" and behind him was a wall full of books on bricks. I thought, imagine this guy at a dinner party. "Stewart, what do you do?" "I write books on bricks." "Really? Is there much of an audience for that?" Who buys these books? It actually makes me a bit depressed that some brick dork is a published author and I am not. He probably smells better than me too.)