'Baby M'

Yep. To this day, his buddy calls him "Baby M." Because that's what he was. Our baby. And now? He's 4. Yesterday, all day, I told him over and over, "Now you're four years and 3 hours old." "Now you're four years and 4 hours old..." He is so excited! And, of course, he's not the baby anymore, anyway! Now he's the middle child. The attention-seeker. The instigator. The player. I call him our future Jeep-driving middle kid. He'll be the cool one who wears the rad (do we say that in 'cool' circles anymore?) hemp rope around his neck in the fashion of hip male jewelry. He 'plans' to be a professional baseball player. And believe me. He has the tenacity to do it. And the practice hours in already. Every day. I'm throwing him the ball. Every day. Rain. Snow. Cold. Hot. It doesn't matter to Baby M. He'll play. Today I told him I was going on baseball vacation. And then I threw him the ball. Because that's what you do with Baby M. It makes him do this:

And who can resist that sweet smile when the lips curve up right at the very corners? Well, not me, anyway. He wanted a baseball cake. So I made him one. Until 2:30 in the morning. Betty Crocker I am not. Wilton cake decorator I am not. But Mommy to one sweet little boy who is growing up and makes me laugh and turns my hair gray with his bull-headed ability to NOT listen or obey? That I am. And here was his cake:

And lest you be foiled by that sweet demeanor. Here he as his alter-ego:

HAHA! He reminds me that Jesus loves me. And he prays at every meal for 'strangers' and for his friends to listen to their moms. He's a unique little character that has brought amazing light to our family by his presence. And his disturbances. But, I digress.

Here's the final picture of our door. Welcome Home, Family :)

And Happy Birthday, Baby M.
~The Roost'er

Etiquette

Miss Manners would have a hay-day with me. Truly. I can stick my foot in with the best of them! But, I can at least acknowledge that I am a student of civilized behavior. One of my favorite books of all time? Miss Manners' Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior by Judith Martin.

I borrowed Miss Manner's book from the library this time after a trip to the local Hallmark store brought me home with a sweet little guide to note-writing. I struggled with what to say to my friend who lost her little girl. I know I failed. But, I am interested in learning. So, I trekked the kids to the local library. Paid the astronomical fine (dad gum those 'grace periods!'). And brought home a bag full of books providing me with advice for Great Personal Letters for Busy People (I realized I'm really not so busy as to need that book); How to Say It (some good advice - darn if I didn't probably say half the things in the 'What Not to Say' section); and my beloved Miss Manners' Guide. She is thorough. She is straightforward. She is funny, if she's not terse.

Thank you notes - and even sympathy notes - are a dying art. Truly. In the day of emails and text messaging and even palm pilots and blackberries to guide our lives, we've overscheduled, overextended, over-done life to the point that personal communication is at a low. Now, I am not known for timely greetings. In fact, for a 'Stamp Lady,' I tend to not even have cards to send, let alone actually send the correspondence out to the necessary party. I think I sent a 'thank you' note to our neighbor for her extra-generous bags of Halloween candy for my kids around Easter-time. Fortunately, she didn't give them Easter candy. I'd be sunk.

But, perhaps our little friend Emma has changed me in this way. I am sending notes. I am sticking to the '3 day rule.' (Did you even know there was a 3-day rule?) We all love mail. My daughter squeals with delight when she discovers a letter addressed to her in the box. And honestly? I do to. At least on the inside.

So, thank somebody today. For something. Listen to your old, elderly Aunt Florance for once in your life and let her know you cared that she sent you that bar of Irish Spring on a rope for your birthday when you were 12. She only did it because she loves you. Let her know you love her, too. Send that special someone a thank you card. And do it quick. 'Cuz 3 days was up a long, long time ago.
~The Roost'er

Befores and Afters & a Cute Pair of Shoes

OK. Every girl likes a cute pair of go-to shoes. Well, who wouldn't love a pair of these??

JT3's aunt makes these AWESOME monogram buttons - so I had her make me a pair and I think they turned out about darn cute. Never mind that my big toes are HUUUGE. Some lucky people are going to be receiving a pair of these soon! (a pair of monogrammed button shoes. NOT my big toes. HELLO!)

And! Today was The Day! After 5 coats of paint and a GIANT hole in my wall that looked like this:

(YIKES!)

My Before turned into...

My After!

(Men with hammers not included.)

Little Birdies

I haven't been crafty for a while - I think I o.d.'d on it with the shower. But, 'tis that time again. To clean up the stamp room to make room for the mess I make in order to stamp these:

some images above and below copyright Stampin' Up!

Here's my latest nest and birdie. He found a special spot in The Pretty Bathroom, as you can see. The Eldest Hostile made a point to pull me into the bathroom to tell me how pretty his bathroom is now with the new guest. And his twin sister asked why I hadn't posted it on the blog. So. There ya go, Little Mama. I put him on here for you! Thanks, to my mom, for the thoughtful gift!

Thanks for stopping by! Tomorrow I'll post before/after pictures of our stunning new front door!

Blessings

~The Roost'er

Mission Statement

I am so enjoying this blogging adventure. I feel very guilty that I have all but thrown out my daily photo journal that I loved. Daily. Writing and photographing the events of everyday life. Just for the remembory of it all. Until I started this blog. Now, a friend of mine indicated that I could later turn my blog into a book. But, it still makes me sad to look at the forgotten journal.

I love reading other women's on-line photo journals and realizing that I'm just not as inadequate as I tend to feel on a daily basis. Instead, I am...maybe a little bit normal. It is so refreshing to read the words that I am not able to express. Written in someone else's place. And knowing that they understand me. When we don't even know each other. It helps me be more open to the women in my life that I do know and love. And who love me even when they know my deepest, darkest secrets because they read my blog (YIKES!). Thanks, Ladies. For getting to know me.

I am so lucky. My daughter loves Jon and Kate Plus 8. So I get to watch it whenever she wants. And today (at least 'today' in DVR-land), Kate created a family mission statement. I'm going to do that. I'll have to think on it for a bit. And then I'll post it. Just like naming my Abby. Now, thanks to Sissy, I have to name my pear tree.

There's just so much to do! Fortunately, my list of real-life things-to-do is getting checked off. One. By. One.

Gotta go.
Thanks for checking in!
~The Roost'er

Home

I planned this post today. And then 'my buddy,' The Nester, posted this post. Funny. 'Great minds' think alike. (Yeah, right.) But, how cool is it to make a list of desciptive words for your home? What you want it to say to you and anyone who enters. I'll have to think on that a while.

In the meantime...When I photographed my Southern Living tray, my friend Pam asked me what else I had decorated in my home. I stammered my answer. But, basically, it meant, 'Nothing.' Absolutely Nothing. Nope. Nothing Decorated. But, The Nester has inspired me. (That, and the ridiculous feeling of embarrassment I experienced when I had nothing to tell Pam that I had decorated!)

I have always desired to decorate. I think I may have even believed I was decorating. Sometimes. I recall the Lighthouse-Themed Room. I was very big on themes when we moved into our home. (Which, if I named her, like Emily, what would I call her??) But now? Now I have four young kids and a one-income family. And...lots of 'ideas' that change too often to invest in decorating. But, somewhere, someone once told me to make a book of ideas. To look for inspiration in magazines. So, I've been doing that for a while now. And here are a few of my favorites. That didn't really cost too much to decorate. You know, the basement...the Dollar Store. They Rawk.

Here's to Home.

The mantle

---chickified but downscaled since then! I think you can see the dust on my stars. I hung them straight from the front porch all winter and the back porch all last summer onto the main wall of my living room. I call it Character. The allergy doctor might call it something else.

The Wall

--- last night I packed up all my curios to make way for our new front door (another post for another day!). I'd been 'shopping' for birds to add to that middle shelf for weeks. I found my grandmother's bird bells on the bottom of the curio cabinet and realized they'd be perfect! And they didn't cost me a dime!

The Pretty Bathroom

Not many would include a picture of their porcelain bowl in their post. But come on. Isn't she pretty? My husband gutted that room. He began from scratch and built it back to the pristine arena she is today. For the boys to miss. And the boys to splash. And the boys to spray. But, the elder hostile knows to wipe that pretty sink down. Every night. Bless his heart.

Home (My Abigail Grace: God's Joy)

comfortable

inviting

casual & pretty - charming

peaceful

safe & real

lived-in

tidy ('though not always clean!)

loved

~The Roost'er

Heart Walk '08

Today, we celebrated Life. And supported research.

And awareness.

Please enjoy the following photos from this morning's Heart Walk.

We walk for Our First Heart Kid --- painting the city bus.

We walk for Our Second Heart Kid --- enjoying the sites of the walk.

We walk for our friends.

Gold ones.

And Silver ones.

We walk to remember.

Spencer, age 5 - who loved Hockey

AJ, age 17 - who loved to drive and loved to help the little ones

Sophia, age 3 months - with the tenacious spirit

Jackson, 1 year - the apple of his family's eye

Emma, 5 years - with the gorgeous hair and quick grin

And others.

We walk to say thank you.
To the nurses.

To the doctors.



We walk for the sights.

The Sounds.

Even the tastes.

And maybe a chance at immortality. ???

If I just don't stop walking.