Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

art projects

Saturday Smiles: Olympic edition

Yep. Olympic fever has hit our house hard. The kids napped well yesterday so we rewarded them with staying up late to watch the opening ceremonies. Isabelle, our 4-year-old, almost outlasted us all. She was still going strong at midnight while my husband was struggling to keep his eyes open. Corban and I were long gone to our beds. We also celebrated with a theme meal of oven-fried fish, and oven-fried potatoes (our version of fish and chips), mushy peas (apparently an English veg) and scones. I love all things England and the Olympics being in London has taken me on a serious trip down memory lane from my days at this magnificent place.

Earlier in the week, Corban started training for the 2028 Olympics.

Or the circus. Of course, he also did this.

We had a friend over and the girls were all dressed up. He’s not to be left out, even if it means dressing like a princess.

Today he and I got to spend the morning together. For most of the summer, about every other Saturday, Phil takes Isabelle to Lowe’s for their Build and Grow workshop, which gives Mother and Son some one-on-one time. We walked to a yard sale and then to the farmers market. I love fresh, local vegetables, especially since I haven’t yet cultivated my own green thumb. We also got a treat: pumpkin whoopie pies. It was a nice way to spend a couple of hours. I forget how much I enjoyed the times when it was just Isabelle and me before Corban was born and how little time I take for one-on-one with either of them right now.

When I don’t, I miss out on things like this.

Isabelle had created an elaborate doctor’s office scenario with these “friends.” I started paying attention when she said, “Um, my hamster doesn’t feel good because he has too many stomachs. He can’t walk on them because he has too many.” Later, the hamster doctor couldn’t fix him so the leprechaun doctor came in. I was in tears laughing, and I didn’t want her to stop so I tried to hide my laughter behind the book I was reading. Whose kid is this? Oh, wait.

If the Olympics had storytelling, Isabelle would be a champ.

One day this week, I was preparing something in the kitchen and the kids asked me for some tape so they could put up some pictures they’d made. Later, I discovered this.

They had created an art gallery in our bedroom. Creative. And encouraging.

It’s been a good week, for the most part. God is encouraging us through the unexpected and we continue to seek and wait on Him. But it’s almost August and we aren’t homeless or hungry yet, so that alone is reason to praise Him. And even if we were those things, we would praise Him.

Saturday smiles: Life is messy edition

Phil and I like to watch Food Network, especially the competition shows. We’re currently catching up on Next Food Network Star. Last night, I had a dream that Bobby Flay asked us to host a cooking show on the network.

I wish.

Well, not really. Because the two of us don’t really have a culinary point of view, as the network execs like to say. Really, the only thing that defines our cooking is that we’re sure to make a mess of the kitchen. And generally, we turn out something tasty. Maybe even a little unusual. I always say, we’re the messy chefs.

In reality, life is messy. We intend to reflect that in our ministry and in our lives. We aren’t afraid to get our hands dirty with other people’s messes because, let me tell you, we’ve had plenty of our own.

This week, though, we took “messy” literally.

The kids are almost two weeks into their summer reading program, which is all about night-themed stuff. So, for one of their projects, we cut stars out of construction paper and decorated them with glitter. I didn’t even remember that I had glitter until we started planning this project.

I learned one thing about glitter: It doesn’t matter how careful you are not to make a mess, you’re going to walk away covered in the stuff. We’re still finding glitter on our faces, our feet and our arms and legs.

Most importantly, we had fun. And the kids got to work with a new art supply. And their stars (not pictured) are on display at the library for the duration of the summer. Totally worth the path of glitter trailing from our house to the library.

Corban really liked shaking the glitter canister, which accounted for most of the mess. I tried to save as much of the excess as I could, but my efforts had only partial success. We don’t have an art supply budget in our house (or a craft room — sigh) so we’ll make do.

Most of the rest of the week was unbearably hot. With our future uncertain, Phil and I made the decision to not bring the air conditioner down from the attic. (Because it’s heavy and a beast and an electricity guzzler … no offense to the dear friends who have loaned it to us!) We did put the kids’ air conditioner in so they could sleep comfortably. (Underneath layers of blankets. In 90-degree heat. On the first day of summer. Sometimes I wonder if these are really my children.)

So, when we got a short system of rain, Phil and the kids took advantage of the temporary relief.

Like a mama with ducklings. They were in search of a puddle.

I’m not sure anything makes me happier than this picture right here.

Innocence, joy and the trademark tongue all rolled into one. Although this child is often the source of my frustration (because she needs people all the time and I don’t), she is also the source of many giggles. Take this conversation, for instance:

Daughter: “Mom, will my name still be ‘Izzy’ when I grow up?

Mom: “It will be whatever you want it to be. You could go by Isabelle, Izzy, Belle …”

Daughter: “Or Cinderella, or Cindy, or cup.”

Mom bursts out laughing and forgets the rest of the conversation.

Our son, also, has his moments of favor. We are more alike temperamentally, so it takes a lot more from him to cause me frustration. One of my favorite things lately is when he comes into the bedroom just after I’ve gotten dressed for the day and says, “Oh, you look pwetty.” (Is your heart melting? Mine has. Numerous times.)

This time next week, our kids will be out of our hands for almost a week and in the more-than-capable hands of their grandparents. I look forward to the relief but know I’ll be a basket-case the whole way home after we make our exchange.

I mean, really. How could I not miss this:

Life is messy. Parenting is hard. And this moment was one highlight among a lot of lowlights this week. But I’ve decided I’ll endure the lows, though they be frequent, if it means I get to experience the highs, though they be rare.

Happy weekend!

And if you see my dad, wish him a “Happy Birthday!”