Author: Jo Bird

my first SOLO sewing project

/ Jo Bird / 4 Comments
I left my wallet in Richard’s truck.  Richard drove his truck to the airport.  At the gas station I realized I had no wallet.  I drove home with a prayer in my heart that I would not run out of gas.  I have been stranded at home for a couple days.  No gas. No wallet.  Luckily my mom came to the rescue today with a $20 bill.  That currency meant freedom.  I think we might have all gone crazy by Saturday had we remained prisoners in our own home. 
Before the heroine brought the cash, I was looking for distractions.  Richard bought me a sewing machine for Christmas.  (Feminists- do not rise up, I wanted a sewing machine.)  Up until yesterday I had been too intimidated by it, and too busy with other projects, to assemble it and try it out.  I must be honest.  The only assembling required was threading the bobbin, and the machine.  But that meant reading an instruction manual.  And I hate instruction manuals.

But necessity is the mother of invention. And sewing projects.  The socks in our house were becoming hostages to Eli.  He was filling them all with toys and carrying them around as his “sock bags.”  I decided to sew an alternative bag that would allow the socks to fulfill their purpose protecting little feet. 

I have sewn before, but never alone.  It went quite well, if I may say so.

a lucky brother

/ Jo Bird / 5 Comments
This morning the boys were fighting over two cars.  A McDonalds race car and a police car. So I lined up all the cars for the choosing game. Cameron went first and chose the police car. Eli went next and, naturally, chose the McDonalds car. Cameron of course burst into tears about how he “never ever had that car”. We finished the game, all the while Cameron whimpering and whining. When we were done, they each had their chosen cars. After giving Cameron strict orders not to “trade” with Eli for the McDonalds car Eli promptly handed said car over to Cameron. Cameron looked at me, wondering if he was in trouble and I told him what a lucky boy he was to have such a nice brother. At this point they both had huge grins on their faces and I said to Eli  “Doesn’t it feel good to share?” They both started laughing and I got up to leave the room. As I walked out I heard Cameron say “I love you Eli.” And Eli responded “I love you too.” Then more giggles.

It drives me crazy the way Cameron gets what he wants after whining so much, but Eli’s sweetness just melts my heart into mushy goo and I can’t help but let it go.

this girl has no self-discipline

/ Jo Bird / 4 Comments

I spent the second half of last week in Idaho Falls visiting family and friends and friends who feel like family. A road trip usually means fast food. One night after dinner at Arby’s (no offense Arby’s, it tasted great) I was lying in bed feeling sick. I thought of this line from Austin Powers.

“I eat because I’m depressed, I’m depressed because I eat. It’s a vicious cycle.”

Mine is more like this.

“I eat crap. I feel like crap. I vow to eat better. I feel better. So I eat crap again.”

I’m sorry for all the times I’ve used crap in this post. I’m sure my dad is thinking that I should utilize my vocabulary to better express myself. Sorry Dad.

Healthy eaters unite. I mean it this time.

(Well, that is, as soon as I finish this cheesecake.)

a nugget of wisdom

/ Jo Bird / 3 Comments

I never cease to be a little embarrassed when an old adage finally clicks in my brain and I realize that these sayings we have heard all our lives are repeated for a reason.

Biggest cliche: “Live in the moment.” Turns out to be a profound truth after all.

Last week someone challenged me to “live in the moment”, particularly the moments when I was feeling the least amorous to my children. You know, like that moment of Candyland where I want to throw the game across the room if I have to remind someone one more time that it is their turn.

So I did it. When my patience started to wane I took a deep breath and tried to appreciate the moment.

It works.

I just started reading a book that I have high hopes will teach me to be more present and still. I’m anticipating further insights that I look forward to sharing.

brave or naive?

/ Jo Bird / 5 Comments

Over Christmas we decided to try and have pictures taken of the six grandchildren, ages 4 and under. I’m not sure if it was brave or naive of us. I’m posting the pictures for the benefit of my brother Evan who is on a mission on the other side of the world. He hasn’t even met any of his nieces yet. For his sake I won’t mention anything about a countdown…

snip snip

/ Jo Bird / 11 Comments
One of my goals for 2009 was to donate my hair to Locks of Love. Those prenatal vitamins can really do a head of hair a favor so it seemed like the perfect time. Due to the business of a new baby and the holidays I didn’t get it done during 2009. But what better way to kick off 2010 than a new hair-do?

It’s kind of wierd to see my hair lying around. I need to ship it away soon.

Brooke cut 11 inches at first and then cut another inch or two after that. It was a lot of hair. I can see how it is a sacrifice for some to lose that much hair at once. For me the sacrifice was having that much hair on my head. I’m relieved to have it gone.

Haiti

/ Jo Bird / 2 Comments

I feel as though I can not go on blogging without acknowledging this. And yet I don’t know what to say.

One thing I have learned about myself is that sometimes it feels good to feel even if the something I am feeling is sadness.

So this is a mourning post. This is my effort to carry, if I could, a tiny part of a tremendous burden.

God bless Haiti.

jammies

/ Jo Bird / 3 Comments

I’m sure there aren’t any parents out there who have ever harbored ill feelings toward their newborn for those frequent nocturnal disturbances. But on the off chance that there are individuals who could use a little something to motivate them out of their beds as the infant whimpers arouse them from slumber, I’ve discovered a trick.

Adorable jammies. Just seeing her all cozy in her polka-dot footsies and I can’t wait to have her in my arms. These are my favorites and I just want to nuzzle her up the instant I see her in them.


Yep, even at 2:00am.

** For clarification, my birthday is not until February. Yesterdays post was just my thoughts on aging, not a birthday lament. Not yet.

the late twenties

/ Jo Bird / 10 Comments

I’ve noticed lately that I am encroaching on “soccer mom” status. My kids aren’t yet involved in out-of-the-home activities that have me playing the part of chauffeur but for all other intents and purposes (married, middle-class, suburban mother of three) I fit the bill.

Growing up I remember adults approaching thirty make comments about how they still felt twenty. Now I am one of those adults. Ignoring the fact that I have a four year old I would swear I still was twenty.

But alas it has become clear to me in recent days that I am not twenty. Or twenty-one. Or even twenty-five.

It first happened as I dropped off a load at D.I. the other day. A sharp looking young man came out to help collect my rejected belongings. (The fact that I used the word “sharp” to describe a “young man” is evidence enough, no?) I felt so hip because as I popped the trunk I knew he could hear that I was listening to Beyonce. I like Beyonce. I listen to her to feel young and hip. But then as I drove away it occurred to me: “Jo, who are you kidding? You are driving a minivan.”

My other problem is that either because I am too busy or I don’t like what I see, I rarely take the opportunity to look in the mirror. I suppose most of my efforts go to making sure my children look decent. Sadly though, I have frequently left the house without make-up because of this. And the other day a friend came by to drop something off and I had chocolate cake mix on my nose.

It had been hours since I baked the chocolate cake.

I guess approaching thirty is like going bald. You just have to embrace it. Don’t endure it, love it. Glory in maturity. Live it up before you turn 40. (Heaven forbid!)

Oh, and did I mention I am actually only turning 28?

talk about karma

/ Jo Bird / 13 Comments

I guess I had it coming. All that nonsense about pink. I got pink alright. Somehow a magenta crayon made its way into the dryer during a cycle that contained the boys’s lights. Now all my children have pink clothes. I was much less delighted to find pink lint this time.
To all the mothers of only boys, I am sorry for being so insensitive. This must be my well-deserved comeuppance for gloating about girliness.