Marian Vischer

Foodie

This blog is like a box of chocolates…you never know what you’re gonna get. Today I’m feeling inspired to dish about yumminess.


Jen just did a guest post over at Kimba’s and if any of you ever struggle with what or how to feed your family, you should check it out. I heart both of their blogs.

And when I posted a comment there, I commented under Emily (who I also love) who referred folks to Kendra, who has a fab food blog and is doing a survey (complete with a giveaway.)

Confused? Don’t be. Go here for great meal tips and here to do a quick survey and maybe win something. And even if you don’t win, you’ve found a great food blog. 

So, in the spirit of yum, I made a chocolate torte last night. And I’m giving you the recipe so you can go make it. Now. Go to the store right now. Get the ingredients and whip it up. I don’t care if you have to haul all your young ‘uns with you to the Super Wal-Mart and they ask for sugared cereal and toys and hit each other and cry and you have to then scream at them in Wal-Mart mom voice and tell them you’re gonna beat them when you get home. 

This torte is that good. You will love me for giving you this recipe and you will read my blog forever.

If you are having a bad day, go make this torte. Your troubles will disappear. If you are having a great day, go make this torte and your day will be all the more celebratory. 

My friend, MB (love her), has made this torte and shared it with me not once, but twice. That’s how much she loves me. I just helped her do some window mistreatments in her kitchen and bedroom and she paid me in torte. Which is roughly equal to one million dollars.

Go here to get the recipe off the Pillsbury site.

And if you make this torte, please comment and tell me how it’s changed your life.

Bon appetit!

Springbellishment

I was all set to do a post on easy Spring touches and when I tuned in to the Nester today, she was calling for Spring. And she sent me to the Inspired Room, who was also calling for Spring.


I’m so excited that everyone is gettin’ their Spring on. And you totally need to check out their Spring posts…and link up with your own. 

Love all that blogspiration out there.

Anyway, here’s a few Spring touches I’ve made amid the mayhem. Unfortunately I have to strain my neck to see these pretty vignettes…seeing as how I have 11 plastic storage bins, 3 laundry baskets, and 2 garbage bags of clothes sitting in my great room. 

Because Spring is more than birds, eggs, and tulips. 

It is also the glorious season of sorting through seasonal clothing, shipping off hand-me-downs, preparing for my area consignment sale, and sorting through the mother lode of baby boy clothes. Goodwill is getting their fair share too.

I digress.

Here’s a little table in my great room. I’ve used this thing for every imaginable purpose. Right now it’s simply a pretty place to set up Spring and hold a cup of tea and make me smile. 

I had everything but the wooden decorative thingys. (Does anyone know what these are called?) I scored those from the 80% off section at Hobby Lobby. I also bought the fake branch there, 50% off. I don’t love fake plants, but I tend to neglect real foliage and it tends to die as a result.

These are some tacky-turned-terrific urns I got a while back from the thrift store. One was a speckled mint green. The other was goldish. They look much prettier with a coat of creamy, glossy spray paint…compliments of Wal-Mart, 96 cents a can.

(See how sad and dreary and tacky…)

(See how happy and chipper and glossy…)

I put some moss in there. And some sticks.



More moss. More fake stuff. These happy urns adorn my newly redone bedroom.




And don’t you think this…

is better than this?



I printed off a few more vintage prints from The Vintage Moth and added these to the “office” area of my bedroom that needed a little help. Already had the mats and clip frames. I love free bees. And free eggs. And free birds. 

I also added my diplomas…which have nothing to do with Spring. Except that people usually graduate then. Yes, I’m a nerd and I put my diplomas up. And not because I’m trying to impress people who wander into my bedroom. 



These diplomas pay homage to the days when this girl actually had a brain and got paid real money to do smart and productive things. Paid.

And when I wander into my bedroom and cannot for the life of me remember what I came in there for, I can glance up at these pieces of framed paper…and know that once upon a time I had a brain that remembered things.

And finally, you can spruce up your toilet for Spring by tossing in a bunch of grosgrain ribbons. And a rogue shoe.


Want more ideas?

How about some junk scattered about the bathroom floor. Nothing says Spring like cotton balls…and feminine supplies.

It’s only fair to give credit to the other half of this designing duo. Let’s give it up for Cupcake, my 15-month-old decorating savant.


I have lots more Springbellishment ideas up my sleeve. I’m sure Cupcake does too.

But first…the bins. And the sorting. And the laundry. And the digging grosgrain ribbon out of the toilet. Sigh.

Got any Springbellishment ideas up your sleeve? I’d love to see.

Top Five

This is my shameless way of trying to win a $250 Target gift card. Our Suburban Cottage mentioned that over at Barking Mad, she’s giving one away…and it could be me. Or you. But hopefully me. No, I’m just kidding. It’s totally great if it’s for you. Or me.


You just create a post listing your top 5 or so favorite posts and then link back up. 


(My fabulous and frugal new bedroom)

(introspective)

(also introspective)

(me in a nutshell…well, a rather large nutshell seeing as how it’s the unabridged version)

(how I mistreated five whole windows in one day for $20)

Good luck!

The Tyranny of the Tiny

Last Sunday a friend of mine was in town and spent the evening with me. She is cool and single and has no children.


As she was gathering up her things to leave, she found this.


“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s the world’s smallest toilet tank,” I replied, suddenly realizing how very odd my life must seem to her. The only toilet tanks she sees are ones made for regular-sized people, with regular-sized bottoms.

This toilet tank fits only one bottom. A bottom that is exactly 3mm in circumference. You know her name.

Polly Pocket.

Often, as I am tidying up my home or helping my kids clean their room, I am struck by the miniscule oddities that surround me. Sometimes I laugh, as I did when my friend came upon the tiny toilet tank.

Other times, I want to find the nearest noose. (Not for Polly, of course. That would be cruel and sick and macabre.)

Because when all the stuff is out of control, life feels out of control. And sometimes all this tiny stuff makes me feel like some sort of freakish mommy giant, trapped on the set of Honey, Who Shrunk Everything…Except You?

My vacuum’s canister could be a Polly Pocket shoe museum. A lint-covered version of a Tiny Imelda Marcos’s closet.
Tiny food. Tiny toiletries. Tiny strappy shoes.



Tiny Anakin Skywalker

Tiny Lego “cookie.” 


Tiny Lego car
Brownie is very skilled in the art of Lego. This is a “spider car” he assembled, comprised of 193 tiny pieces.
And of course Lego cars inevitably break. And of course Cupcake eats the Lego crumbs we never found when cleaning up. And of course I dig out the drooly Legos while Cupcake cries and bites my fingers and curses me with his unintelligible Baby curse words. And of course I curse under my breath that he is eating Tiny inedible things. Again.

What’s my point? I don’t have one. 

I just pray that the Tinies will never band together and rise up in rebellion. For if they do, freakish mommy giant is done for.
…………………………………………………………
There’s a Blogger glitch with commenting right now. They’re working on it. I’ve disabled the word verification feature, which will hopefully help. Give it a try. I do so love your comments!
Snaps to my mom who gave me the title for this post one day as she marveled at the sheer tiny-ness of Polly’s shoes. And the sheer number of them scattered about my house.

Picturing Grace

Nine days ago, I received a gift.


A very large, totally unexpected present.

Something I have pined after for years. Something I knew that I would love and cherish and put to oh-so-good use. And while I was sincerely happy for others who had this thing that I wanted, at times I wondered why I couldn’t have one.

This thing is expensive. And at this point in my life, if I can’t feed, clothe, or shelter my family with it, I usually can’t purchase it.

So here’s what happened…

Dear Friend calls me to see when she can stop by. I wondered what she was up to. I figured she had a valentine or some chocolate. Something to make me smile. (Because she’s sweet and spontaneous and generous like that.)

So on Friday, February 14th, she stopped by. The Man was still home. The kids were running around. The house was in various states of disarray. Just another day in paradise…

DF came in bearing a box.

What in the world is she doing? I thought.

Before I got to see what was in the box, she handed me an envelope.

Inside was a letter.

It was the nicest letter I think I’ve ever received. You know all the yucky things you think about yourself? Well, it was as if she had telepathy and knew all the bad self-talk going on inside my head and she wrote a letter telling me the opposite. I cried when I read it. And every time I’ve reread it, I’ve cried. And even now, just thinking about it, I’m still crying.

This letter was so amazing, it would have been enough. Who cares about what’s in the box when you get a letter like that?

But the letter was just the tip of the iceberg.

Inside the envelope was a check, half of which is to be used by The Man and me to go on a much-needed date AND pay for a babysitter. The other half is for me. Just me.

Well, the letter AND the generous sum of money would have certainly been enough. Way more than enough.

But still, just the tip of the iceberg.

I opened the box.

I SCREAMED. And SCREAMED. And jumped…many, many times. And, still more SCREAMING. And jumping…

Poor Cupcake. He was so scared, he cried because his mother was screaming like a banchee and the Man just had to hold him and attempt to restore calm.

Inside the box was a new camera. A brand new Canon Digital Rebel.

Custom-chosen just for me. It even has an “image-stabilizer” lens. I don’t even know what that is. Plus a camera case, memory card, and various accoutrements to go with the camera. You can’t even imagine how nice and fancy this camera is.

For little ol’ me.

I couldn’t believe I was staring at the thing. The thing I’ve craved and only admired from a distance, dreaming of the day when I would grip my own and capture the most beautiful pictures of my children’s faces.

And even as I type this, I am still crying. I have cried a lot over this thing that I got nine days ago.

Because, you see, it’s way more than a thing.

It is a giant helping of Grace.

I didn’t deserve the letter or the money and certainly not the camera. Wanted? Yes. Deserved? No.

In the letter, DF told how she had been praying about what to do with some money she knew she and her husband were to give. And I was the one who kept coming to her mind.
The letter said:

Let her know that I love her. Let her know that I see.

So she did.

And He did.

I don’t know why my Father chooses to make Himself known to me in such huge ways. I think it’s because I am stubborn and quick to forget…and easily distracted by things I don’t have.

And still, He provides for me, his forgetful and doubting and discontented child.

Because He has done it time and time again, particularly over the last two years since I left my career to be home with my children. When I left that job, we said goodbye to nearly one-half of our family’s income.

We thought we were crazy. Foolish even. But I knew God was calling me to this. To greater faith, to greater dependence on Him as my provider.

It has not been a bed of roses. Stress, anxiety, doubt, not knowing how to pay this or that. Not paying this or that. We’ve experienced all of the above.

But our God has supplied all our needs, often not in our timing. But always in His.

And He’s even gone beyond supplying our needs. At times, He has even supplied our wants. Big lavish, luxurious wants. Like cameras.

How much does the Father love me? 12.1 megapixels. That’s how much.

Now that is Grace.


* All photos courtesy of…..moi!

Extreme Makeover: Master Bedroom Edition

The Nester’s linky party was just the deadline I needed to finish up my Room-of-Shame re-do.

If you haven’t tuned in to the Nester’s series “10 Minutes to a Room You’ll Love,” you absolutely must. In true Nester fashion, she tells you exactly what to do to spruce up 4 different rooms of your home, in 10 minutes.

Yes, I finally finished my bedroom. In 10 minutes…times about 100. 

I know. That means I totally cheated. But in all honesty, I started this bedroom overhaul before the series. Then I abandoned it and gnashed my teeth and pulled out my hair because it was not coming together. At all. 

Her post on sprucing up your master bedroom re-motivated me to finish the job. 

I’ll admit…this has taken me a while. Mostly because I have children at home with me all the time so I didn’t have long periods of uninterrupted time to knock out the job. Ty Pennington said he was tied up and couldn’t help (what a jerk). Alas, I was left to finish the project myself. 

So here’s the basic scoop:

1. Budget: I used what I had plus a few thrift store treasures and items from Old Time Pottery. I spent less than $50, not including a computer table from Wal-Mart ($39) so we could squeeze our computer into the room. And the money my hubby spent at Circuit City on a clearance monitor, just a wee bit less obtrusive than our former one circa 1993.

(Streamlined computer area. Not ideal to have computer in our bedroom but there is literally not another space in our little home to house it. And I love The Man for spending a little extra money to make this space way better than it was. I’ll probably beautify this area a bit more…but not now. I’m tired.)



2. Design: As mentioned, my first color scheme just wasn’t coming together. So, I took out all the color and went totally monochromatic. Creams and whites and taupe. Plus a bit of green. My style is kind of eclectic. I love the comfort and warmth and casualness of Cottage, the nostalgia of Vintage, and the clean lines of Modern. I think this room combines all three. 

3. Finished Product: I love it!!! Ya’ll, I have been married over 13 years and have NEVER had a bedroom I loved. Never. Our bedroom was like the ugly stepchild of our home. I focused on the kids’ rooms and our public rooms and neglected the most important room of all, the one I share with The Man. We now have a serene, tranquil, and romantic space just for us. I used to only go in there when I had to. Now I never want to leave. 

Ready for the pictures?

BEFORE:



AFTER:

Always a fan of plates, I’d been accumulating these white and cream ones forever, unsure of where to put them. The Nester’s plates-above-the-bed idea inspired this.
BEFORE:
AFTER:
Yep, the dresser went into the closet. (A little bird recommended that. Nester, please give me the Best Student Award.) 
BEFORE:

AFTER:
I’ll break it down…

Windows

Already had the rod and it was already mounted. Thrift store fabric. Not enough of each fabric, so I ripped two different fabrics down and middle to get 4 panels. I folded the top, ring-clipped them, and poofed (all a-la-Nester.)

Valance is leftover from the nursery. I found the trim at the thrift store for a dollar.
We insist on a dark room for sleep and I could not figure out how to salvage my room-darkening panels and keep it hidden. Finally it hit me. I took down the flat thingy that sits at the top of the blinds, threaded the tab-tops over it, and popped it back in place. 

Light and breezy during the day.
Dark and cozy at night.
Sitting Area / Wall

I’ve never had a sitting area in my bedroom but the Nester said I should. No budget for a cushy, upholstered chair but I did find 2 cream slip covers a while back at Goodwill so I made one of those work. 

Love this boutiquey green girly pillow I got a thrift store for $1!



I had the decorator “table,” plus the remnant toile, the thrift store trim, and the sheet. That’s right, a sheet. Folded and poofed and placed underneath the toile.

Wait a minute, that’s no table. That’s a plastic cart with decorator table top on it. (The attic apparently ate the legs.)


As for the chair, the slipcover was way too big and it was just all sad and saggy. So I put some pillows underneath to make it plush.



Walls

I also followed the Nester’s advice on keeping photos of the kids out of the room and focusing just on The Man and me. I printed some black and whites and framed some others I had sitting around. This wall inadvertently turned into a giant scrapbook…but I like it. I think. It may be a tad bit too cluttery. As budget allows I may add some larger collage frames and eliminate the tiny ones.

All the art is super cheap, comprised of photos and (almost) free art. I found an amazing art book at Salvation Army a while back. I bought it for $3, knowing I would cut out some of the artwork and frame it at some point. 


My “LOVE” letters were $1.99 each at Hobby Lobby. They were brown cardboard and I decoupaged them with scrapbook paper. 

The shelves were formerly white and sitting in my attic. Black spray paint and voila! Four free black shelves. I spray-painted assorted old frames as well.

Don’t you wish you had these pretty botanical prints? You can! Go to The Vintage Moth, a FANTASTIC blog with FREE printable vintage prints of all kinds. I put the free fern prints in these old cream frames that were formerly displaying really dated and unattractive family pictures.

This room was relatively easy. (And it was done on the tiniest of budgets.) I didn’t rearrange any major furniture or even paint. I just stuck with the builder beige.

But I won’t lie. It was not quick. Did I mention my three young children? And that I teach them? At home? That means they are here with me. All the time. Did I mention that?

And that means a bedroom renovation does not happen overnight.

Cupcake especially loved it. His distracted mommy gave him plenty of time to sneak into the bathroom and dump the contents of the trash can into the toilet. 




Still, this room is totally worth it. And now I have motivation to start on “10 Minutes to a Bathroom You’ll Love”…

Seeing as how mine is now trashed.

Once again, Nester, I thank you for the motivation and totally do-able ideas you give us to make our homes lovely and liveable.

The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree…

This week has been a bit discouraging. Motherhood is wearing me out. And I can’t find the time I need in between child-rearing, child-educating, home-keeping, and a working-a-lot-right-now husband to get my bedroom finished. (Sneak-peek at the bottom of this post.)

Misplaced priorities? Check. Selfishly pursuing my own agenda? Check. Wanting to swat away all small children who get in my way? Check.


I want to be June Cleaver. Instead, I wish I had a meat cleaver.

But I was reminded today how the Father’s mercies are new every morning.  

My 7-year-old daughter, Blondie, sweetly came to my bedside and inquired about my breakfast plans. When I came out to the kitchen, she had lovingly placed a plate of waffles and glass of soy milk on the table for me.

But that’s not all…

She also fixed waffles for Brownie. And Cupcake. And herself.

But that’s not all…

She cleaned up the kitchen, hand washing and drying all the dishes.

But that’s not all…

She enthusiastically jumped into her schoolwork with an attitude I have not seen in months.

And in the midst of it all, I found this.

A TO DO LIST…FOR A SEVEN-YEAR-OLD!

I have never instructed her in the ways of to-do lists. I don’t know that she’s ever seen me make one. And oh, I have made many. 

If to-do lists had magical powers to morph the list-maker into an individual of productivity and effectiveness, I would be leader of the free world. I’ve even listed tasks I’ve already completed just for the satisfaction of checking more items off. (Sick and twisted, I know.)

That’s because I’m a Wannabe Type A. (Well, a recovering Wannabe Type A.) 

And now I’m afraid she is too.

She has started countless art projects and failed to finish them because something else distracted her. Or she couldn’t get it exactly right so she walked away distraught and in tears. Or she had all this creative energy and wanted to do something but she couldn’t decide on the perfect project. So she did nothing, paralyzed by her perfectionism. Just like me. 

And I, as her mother, want to protect her from years of frustrating failure and self-loathing due to unfinished projects, unkept schedules, and thousands of wasted dollars on day-timers and organizing gadgets. I want her to accept herself, whether she’s organized and focused or free-spirited and easily-distracted.

I want to save her from herself. 

But deep down, I know I cannot.

I’m nearly 36 and I’ve only recently begun figuring myself out. I’ve accepted some of my less-than-desirable character traits. I’ve stopped trying to please every dang person on the planet. I’ve surrendered to just being me. Not the me I want to be, but the me I really am. 

And while achieving such self-awareness years ago would have saved me (and those around me) much heartache, I know the journey was part of the destination.

It will be for her too. Sigh.

And while I can serve as a knowledgeable guide, she will have to travel her own path…

And she will be better for it. 

Just as I am.


………………………………………………………………


(Sneak peek at the almost-free-and-not-quite-finished-bedroom-re-do. Honestly, I should be jailed for such blatant hyphenation.)

BEFORE (experimenting with art and a color scheme that just wasn’t coming together):

AFTER (took out all the color and going for the monochromatic look):
Bold
More to come…

The Soup Nazi

Sorry I haven’t posted in over a week! Sheesh, what a slacker. 


Alas, I have been working on a little project…that has turned into a much bigger project than first anticipated. Yes, it is the dreaded Room of Shame I highlighted on my last post. After reading the Nester’s posts last week on sprucing up one’s Master Bedroom, I decided to return to the project I’d abandoned several weeks prior (since the project had become un-fun and I was feeling clueless.)


Well, you will want to check back in later this week because I will be posting the Room of Shame Re-do. Mind you, this will not be an extreme makeover as I have not painted or purchased new furniture (well, I did have to get one small item.) But to me it’s a big change and it is getting prettier by the day and I am getting happier by the day. And I am ready to not be filled with shame after the photos I posted of my sad, sad, bedroom.

My laundry, however, is piling up by the day so this project needs to be finished. Soon. Because even in the South it is cold in February…much too cold to go naked. 

But, I wanted to post something and I haven’t talked about food in a while so here it goes.

I love soup. 
And while I am not the recipe-hoarding, extremist Soup Nazi we all know and love, I am insane for soup! I could probably eat soup every day. I’m not talking about that condensed, leave-you-hungry, chicken-noodle stuff you only go for when you’re sick. I have a love affair with filling, hearty, and (mostly) healthy soups that incorporate the major food groups. I love the ease and wholesomeness of a one-pot meal, a salad (if I really have my act together), and a loaf of warm bread.

We eat a lot of soup around here, especially when it’s cold (the weather, not the soup.) It’s cheap. It’s usually healthy. And it’s a meal in one pot.

If you also like soup and if you want more soup recipes, maybe the Soup Nazi will turn this into a series. 

This is one of my favorite soups. It has been a loyal recipe for years and it comes out of my trusty Williams Sonoma Soup cookbook. Do not let the gourmet shout-out scare you off. There are lots of normal recipes for normal people in that cookbook.

Lentil Soup

If you do not eat lentils, you’re crazy. They are super healthy, full of protein and fiber. Super easy, no soaking or lengthy cooking time. And super cheap, less than $1 a bag. Plus they are a tiny little beans and I think that makes them rather cute.

With everyone talking about ways to save more money, going meatless is a great way to do so. Maybe you could start a trend with your family and call it “Meatless Monday’s.” You can do pasta, soup, beans and rice. I’m a vegetarian, but the rest of my family isn’t it. Even so, we eat a lot of meatless meals and I find it’s a great way to stay healthy and frugal.

So, here’s the recipe. Serve it with a loaf of warm bread and a salad. Yum. 

Lentil Soup
(from Williams-Sonoma Soup) 

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium yellow onion (finely chopped) 
1-3 carrots, scrubbed and sliced
1 celery stalk, sliced

(*Note: I throw the veggies in my mini-prep food chopper and they’re finely chopped in less than a minute.)  
1 clove garlic, minced
Generous tablespoon curry powder
1-2 bay leaves (if desired)
1 14 oz can diced tomatoes, with juice
1 bag (16 oz) dried lentils, rinsed, picked over, and drained
6 cups broth
1 lemon, sliced
1 cup chopped fresh spinach, or 1 1-lb frozen pack
Salt and pepper

Heat olive oil, then add onion, carrot, and celery. Saute until softened (about 5 minutes). Add garlic and saute for one minute more. Add curry powder and cook till fragrant (about 1 minute).

Add tomatoes, juice, bay leaf, lentils, stock to cover, and the lemon slices. Bring to a simmer over medium hight heat. Cover, reduce heat, and cook till lentils are tender, about 30 minutes. Add remainder of stock and heat up. Discard bay leaf and lemon slices.

If using fresh spinach, add just before serving. If using frozen, add at the end and cook for about 2-3 minutes.

Salt and pepper to taste.

Bon Appetit!

Room of Shame, Wall of Fame

Lately, my posts have alternated between the philosophical and the frivolous. Well, we’re back to frivolous. Because if you’re like me, you love to see pretty pictures of other people’s houses.


But first, the unpretty…

I’m currently working on another decorating project. My bedroom. It’s abysmal. It’s so bad I don’t even like to be in the room unless I’m sleeping. Because sleep is bliss. And when I’m sleeping I can forget about how messy, colorless, uninspiring, and unrelaxing my bedroom is. 

But this post is not about my bedroom…because that project is not going well. I’m attempting to use only what fabric, furniture, art, and accessories I already have and be hyper-frugal. Usually that approach works out well for me. This time…not so much. I’m simply stuck.

Nonetheless I will show you a few pictures of it so that you will feel sorry for me. And hopefully the shame of knowing my pictures are out there in blogland for all of you to see and judge will motivate me to finish it. Because if you read my last post, you’ll know that I am prone to abandon un-fun projects.





So today, I’m posting about something I finished a long time ago. A lovely wall-scape. 

I am not a “decorator,” not even an amateur one. But I have been told I have a knack for arranging things on a wall.

You may think this wall is too “theme-y.” It probably is but I still love it. This wall was inspired by my trips abroad. Two trips to Paris and one to Munich. I love to travel. And I love to get all nostalgic about my trips because they were incredibly meaningful, once-in-a-lifetime experiences…well, thrice-in-a-lifetime if I’m being literal.

You can see I have some sketches from Paris…purchased from a street vendor by the Eiffel Tower. 

They are not standard-size prints and I was not about to pay the big bucks to have them custom-framed. So I just did it myself. I spent about $13 per print for all the framing. 

First, buy some frame pieces you can get at Hobby Lobby or Michael’s in whatever lengths you need. They come in sets of 2. Then buy some foam board (that you’ll just cut to size and mount behind the print.) Then have the frame department cut glass to whatever size you need. Anyone in the framing department can help you find these items. I promise it’s really easy.

There are a few artifacts thrown in. A little Eiffel tower from one of my trips. A tea pot that had been my husband’s grandmother’s. Some framed antique postcards from Paris that I have a huge pile of.

I also framed two tiny watercolors my sister sent me from a visit to Austria, back when she lived in Germany. 

I love blending art, sentimentality, artifacts, and photos in a way that’s cohesive. I think having everything in black frames and using black shelves helps bring everything together without it looking too cluttery. 

(Sorry for the bad photography. I do not have a fancy camera yet.)

Oh, I also framed a photo of Blondie when she was about 3. (See above.) My parents went to Germany and brought her back a beautiful wool cape with sterling silver buttons in the shape of edelweiss. I am not kidding. It also has a matching beret, scarf, and mittens. I know, total heirloom. I took a photo of her wearing that precious set and it’s framed with the rest of my world travel items. 

Here’s another wall that’s similar. All black and whites this time. Plus a punch of color with this great vase (that I got at a thrift store even though it currently sells in a catalog for $40.)

The first wall is still my fave. It’s probably nothing that special but it’s always what I get compliments on. I even had a friend who moved to Florida and took a picture of my wall before she left so she could sort of replicate it in her new home. 

No need to reinvent the wheel, people. Remember, imitation is the finest form of flattery. (And if that is true then Pottery Barn should give me a big ol’ shopping spree because I copied all these wall-scape ideas from their catalog.)

I know it’s just a wall. But, when it’s 5:00 p.m. and my t-shirt is smeared with peanut butter and snot and my face has yet to see a washcloth, I gaze at this pretty wall and recall a glorious moment of sipping a cafe creme and eating pain au chocolat in Paris with my best friend, Lily. Sigh.


Because sometimes a wall is more than just a wall. Sometimes a wall is therapy. And when you’re surrounded by walls all day…and surrounded by children all day…it’s important that you like your walls. (And your children.) The pictures and artifacts on this wall make me feel nostalgic and inspired and cheery.

Got a wall you love? I’d love to see it.

Got a wall you don’t love? Spray paint some old frames you’ve got sitting around the house. (Or go get some at the thrift store or dollar store.) Spray them all black. Or white. Or even a beautiful red. Pick out a few pictures (you know you have 4,000 just sitting there on your computer.) Then make them black and whites (through the wonder of digital photography). 

Frame, hang, and enjoy.

To Thine Own Self Be True

A year ago I had a painful revelation. I’m not who I thought I was.

My entire life, I had been under the false but comforting impression that I was “Little Miss Type A”. Organized. Together. Detail-oriented. Ambitious. A list-making, time-managing, efficiency-driven, dynamo of a gal. A natural-born leader with productivity and perfectionism oozing from my pores.

But as time went by, I was daily bombarded by a perplexing disconnect between my identity and my reality. For a while, I simply lived in denial…until my reality became increasingly difficult to ignore. 
My home was not organized. I often felt that I was anything but “together.” And while I own a label maker and I can spend hours roaming the aisles of Staples and I heart containers, my life did not reflect Type-A-ness. At all. I was juggling a million different things…and dropping balls right and left. I sought refuge in my Myers-Briggs-ness, telling myself “I am an ENFJ.” But the chaos and disorder went on, unabated.

This disconnect between my identity and my reality was ostensibly easy to explain. I was simply a Type-A who had fallen off the wagon. And there were lots of good reasons for this. Balancing career and family and home. Living with disorganized people (known as children.) Not having a Type-A husband to partner with me in all things orderly and organized. I was a victim of people and circumstances who did not align well with my needs and goals.

And then the truth just hit me one day. Sobering and undeniable truth that was painful to swallow and even more painful to admit to others.

I am not Type-A. I never was. I was just a wannabe Type-A. 

I didn’t fall off the wagon. I was never on it to begin with. 
I was just some deluded girl running behind the wagon…sprinting, sweating, breathless, and very determined. But not destined.

Don’t get me wrong. I love order. I am always looking for the book or method or system that will work for me. (Fly lady flew into my life…and then flew back out as quickly as she came.) I crave visual peace, especially in my home. I even use my label maker. But for every Type-A-ish attribute, there are at least 10 shameful characteristics that prove otherwise.

I am usually late. I am very absent-minded. I often can’t find stuff. I am very easily distracted. I procrastinate unpleasant tasks. I love to start projects and not finish them if they become un-fun. And I feel guilty of course but not guilty enough to employ the self-discipline I need to complete the not-fun project.

Worst of all, I am a horrible manager of my time. Horrible. 
Like when I’m on my way to the bathroom and I pass the computer and decide to just quickly check my e-mail and then it’s 45 minutes later and I have forwarded a “What Kind of Dessert Are You?” questionnaire that somebody sent me that I didn’t have the heart not to do and then I decided to make my bed because it would look prettier and then I am wondering why I’ve nearly peed my pants and why my children are running wild and my baby is screaming in the high-chair and out of Cheerios.

That is not Type-A. That is Type-ADD.

And while I do not want to be that person, I now know, for better or for worse, that I am that person.

And when I finally accepted it, I felt free. And freedom is a beautiful thing.

You shall know the truth and the truth will set you free. And it did.

Sure, it’s disappointing to realize you’re not who you want to be. But all that blame-shifting and deluded thinking was exhausting and disappointing. Exhausting because I was always running after that dang wagon and never reaching it. Disappointing because I had an impossible image to live up to. Not to mention that being a blame-shifter makes you unlikeable and cranky because you blame everyone and everything except yourself.

Two funny things happened when I told my husband of this grand revelation…
First, I got all self-righteous about my self-actualization, thinking I was brilliant for realizing it and so humble and mature for accepting it. (I’m always amazed at my twisted ability to puff up with pride as I glory in my humility.)
Second, my grand revelation came as no surprise to him.

He just looked at me and smiled.

And then I knew…

He had known all along.

He is a saint, this man. First of all, he lives with me and has put up with all my junk for over 13 years of marriage. Second, he has never felt the need to point out my flaws. He loves me in spite of them and knows that I’ll learn what I need to when I need to.

I wish I could say I’ve always been the same way with him. (I perfected the art of nag years ago. But thankfully God is overhauling that part of me too.)

As it turned out, everyone knew I wasn’t just a Type-A who had fallen off the wagon. Everyone but me.


Even my best friend told me, “You’re not that person. You’re never going to be that person. When are you going to accept it? Why don’t you think of each day as a grand adventure instead of a controlled routine that you need to maintain and perfect?”

The joy of freedom, of seeing yourself for who you really are, is that you are then finally free to work on the real issues. To admit that you have a problem. (Many, many problems.) No more blaming. No more exhaustion. No more disappointment…well, not as much disappointment.

So I’m working on being a better manager of my time. On being organized (only in the areas where it really matters.) On a few other personal disciplines I’ve chosen for this year. And I’m actually making a bit of progress. We’re making progress. (Because if you read a couple of posts ago, you’ll recall that I Got Nothin’.)

So for all you Type-A’s out there, I love you. I still sometimes want to be you. You all look so neat and pretty and organized and enviable up on that wagon. I will likely continue to read your books and attempt to apply your methods…probably in vain.

But for all you wannabe’s still racing after that wagon, consider this…

Maybe you’re not meant to be on the wagon. Maybe there’s joy and adventure and freedom in simply accepting who you really are.

To thine own self be true.
-William Shakespeare

(Perhaps he and I have a few things in common. Weird, philosophical, wordy, romantic, misunderstood writer-types, who place undue emphasis on the dramatic and tragic.)  

To thine own self be true.

 Yeah, I like it. 
And I’m finally free to live it.