Category: Children

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Rumple House

The first time a neighbor came in and saw my girls playing in a made up “tent” she nearly fainted. I suppose it looked like maybe we’d had a private, one house earthquake. But no–it’s just that we found that the sturdiest and most amazing tents–or Rumple Houses–as Lyndi used to call them, are made from cushions and blankets—lots of blankets, and…

furniture. Yes, that’s what I said.

If you’ve never made one before–oh, what you’re missing!

Yes, that is a chair and an end table in there somewhere sheltering a couple of happy kids and the perfect plate of brownie cookies. We liked our “rumple house” that way. They were a lovely thing and liable to stay stacked up and played in and slept in–merrily–for days. Usually until someone a bit too rational and ordered was on their way over, then down it would would all come…like it had never happened.

Some people just wouldn’t understand.

One of the girls’ little friends came to play once in the middle of our “tenting” adventure and said, “Oooooh…you guys are going to be in trou-ble. Just wait till your mom sees what you did!”

Of course, that’s when one of them piped up–“Oh, she helped us tip over the rocker—it was too heavy for us.”

Guilty as charged.

But she came in and romped and played all afternoon and left saying, “I’m going to see if my mom will let us have a rumple house.”

Good luck with that.

So, if you are one of those staunchy souls who are inclined to say, “No, no. Bad mom,” –be warned. We’ll likely just chuckle…

and invite you in.

You’ll love it…

and…

we have cookies.

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This Moment

A Saturday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.

A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember~via Soulemama.

If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for us.

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The Real Easter Bonnet


I seem to start so many of these “retro” posts with the words, “When I was little…” that it was getting monotonous. So to break things up a bit–I’ll begin a bit differently. Here goes.

Back in my day–

Easter meant a couple of things. One, of course, was bunnies and baskets and tons of colored candy eggs. But what it also meant was a positively perfect pink or yellow or lilac sticky-out-y dress. They were fussy and stiff and scratchy, but that didn’t matter one tiny bit–because, as you can see, we also got a matching hat, and gloves and ruffly socks and a teeny, tiny, boxy, slightly ridiculous clasp purse to complete the ensemble.

But the down side was that back then, the whole wide world was entirely black and white.

Kind of a drag.

So glad this generation invented color.

Way to go.

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Rewind

Have you ever stood back and felt like someone had their finger on the “fast forward” button of your life?

Actually I feel that way all the time.

I very clearly remember my mom holding my hand in the grocery store.

Then not so long after that she was holding my brand new baby in her arms. More than once she said, “Watch very closely, because all this will go by so quickly.” I’m sure I smiled at her, but I didn’t “get it.”

Pretty sure I “get it” now…

…now, as I feed Natural Cheetos to my baby’s babies to entice them to stay in the car seat…

…now, as I play peek a boo with my second baby’s baby so that her momma can get a quick shower…

…now, as I watch my third baby bubble over with joy as she and her friends flit from one unbelievable  adventure to another. This is her winter concert with the Sterling Singers. Amazing.

…now, as I write letters to my fourth baby—my far, far away son and try to pretend–in front of everyone else–that thinking of him doesn’t make me cry…still.

…now, as I watch my very last baby—backing confidently out of the driveway, on his way to work as if he’s some kind of grown-up or something.

It seems to me that if there absolutely is a

then certainly, certainly…

it stands to reason that

there must also be a…

oh, please…

could we find…

the…

?

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Pee Wee Dollies

When I was a little kid–these 3-1/2 inch dollies–called “Pee Wees” were a pretty hot ticket.

In the sixties—yes, that’s when I was a kid,  move on, move on—these little things cost around $1.25 each–about a month and a half’s worth of allowance.

I would save up for what seemed like years and then we’d head off to Woolworth’s to choose my little Pee Wee doll. It was a huge decision for a kid like me. I mean, they were–after all— coming to live with me, forever, so I had to be careful to choose just the right one. It felt more like an adoption than a…you know…purchase.

TANGENT:

So, I had this friend in the Second grade named Belisa. She was very pretty and had a graceful sense of class–for a 2nd grader–so I tried very hard to be like her. She wore pretty dresses so I wanted to wear pretty dresses. She had white shoes–so I had white shoes. But what really intrigued me was that she carried around a tiny little tan purse.  Quite a mysterious thing to an unsophisticated child like me. So, at my very next birthday, I asked for a purse–just like Belisa’s.

I was beyond excited to take my lovely, amazing purse to school the next day. Only problem was that when it came time to leave, I really had no idea what a 7 year old is suppose to carry around in the darn thing in the first place. On my way out the door I grabbed a handful of Pee Wee dolls,  stuffed them in and went on my merry way.

It’s quite likely that Belisa thought I was a complete wack-job when she saw my brand new purse  bursting at the seams–not with lace hankies and peppermint chapstick–but with nearly a dozen teeny tiny baby dolls and their itty, bitty bottles.

Crazy, that is, until I poured them all out and became the instant hit of the playground.

Oh—how to win friends and influence people…

Heh.