Kelle, Author at Enjoying the Small Things

It’s Tradition

November 10, 2011 By Kelle

“Your dad’s on Hampton Time again,” I muttered to Austyn as we waited for Brett from the car. I honked two quick taps of the horn, convincing myself two quick taps was several notches below the rudeness of a steady honk. Actually, I wasn’t worried about rudeness. I was worried about annoying the neighbors because what I really wanted to do was lay on the horn until Brett walked out, and then I wanted to follow up with a bitchy “What took you so long? We’re going to be late.” But I didn’t.

While we waited, I looked down to study my shoes, a pair I hadn’t worn since my teaching days. “These are ugly,” I thought. “I look like a pilgrim.” For some reason, though, our annual Christmas photo propels me to experiment with forsaken looks in my closet. And new hair styles. Which explains why I felt the need to pull out the Bump-It last night—that T.V. commercial gadget that wedges against your scalp and hikes your hair up all Bridget Bardot.

“I’m hot,” Lainey cried.

“Who said you could wear my shoes?” Austyn snapped at Brandyn.

“Oh my Gosh! Your dress!” In a moment of panic, I lunged to fix the crisp cotton I had ironed an hour earlier that was now folded and crammed beneath Lainey’s car seat straps.

And then Nella reached up and pulled one ponytail out. And I honked again.

This is how it goes every year and honestly, it’s completely ironic in that the annual family Christmas card photo is intended to epitomize all the love and peace-out vibes we cherish and yet, any fragments of Miserable Bitch that secretly dwell within me have a habit of rearing their ugly head come family photo shoot. I have this vision that during one of our normal beautiful family moments, when we’re all lounging around the living room and golden light is streaming through our front windows, a photographer will miraculously knock on our door and ask to take our picture. That’s my dream card—real life, good back light and a whole lot ‘o love. I am magnetically drawn to the charm of candid shots—of mismatched clothes and wrinkled noses, heads tipped in laughter, and the comfort that comes from not realizing there’s a camera in your face. Yet I fall into the trap, every year, of obsessively planning that one perfect shot and doing anything and everything to make sure it happens.

It’s in my blood, though. Both of my grandpas were photographers. In fact, I have an eight-year gallery worth of Cryderman Family Christmas cards framed in my hallway like a shrine, and, no doubt, some of these captured moments included scenes much like ours last night. Except my grandma would never, ever have honked.

Take 1957, for example:

You think my dad didn’t complain about having to wear a suit and bow tie for that shot? You think my Uncle Dale enjoyed “nonchalantly” holding that log over the fire for fifteen minutes until someone wasn’t blinking?

Or try 1955:

As if letter tiles conveniently lined up on the carpet to spell the family name were just an ordinary part of every day.

I’ll let 1948 speak for itself:

That one was not posed. Swear.

One of my favorite Christmas photos from our own family was taken when I was about seven. That oh-this-happens-everyday vibe we were going for? We almost pulled it off. It was brilliant: Christmas tree magically glowing in the background, the perfect colored-light bokeh, kids in pajamas, my dad’s Bible open on his lap with the tiny print of “Luke 2” barely visible from the pages. And our family arranged in a slightly imperfect semicircle around him, our expressions manifesting that we were simply riveted with the story of No Room at the Inn. Except, in the background, you notice someone failed to remember to turn the T.V. off before the camera clicked. The jig is up. We were captivated by MTV, not Luke 2.

Brett made it to the car last night, and the hour that followed was full of wild chaos that included flying rocks (don’t ask), gawking strangers, and commands to “straighten your shirt,” “stop squinting,” and, I’m sorry to say, “God, can’t you stand more natural?” Family Christmas card shoots don’t exactly bring out the best in me, and I’m not proud of it. Brett begged to never wear the jeans I made him wear again (“I can’t breathe!”) and I actually had to cut slits in Austyn’s sleeves to fit his biceps (a fact, I’m sure, he’ll be sharing with as many girls as possible). Although the night might be summarized with the simple phrase “We’ll Photoshop it out,” we did it. With a head swap or two, I can say we got “the shot.”

This morning though, I browsed back through the folder of images from last night, sipping my coffee and making note of the obvious disconnection of this moment, right now, and the forced perfection in our photos. I love them–I do. But, for a second, I had half a notion to ditch them all. To start new this year with effortless candid shots in a card that would represent my favorite moments with our family—the raw and real life ones that aren’t so color coordinated and certainly don’t involve hauling kitchen stools to hotels where we sit in a strategic symmetric huddle and smile. Un-posed is far more us and far more endearing.

But, you know what? This is us too. Once a year.

2007

2008

2009

2010

We’ve been doing this for a long time, and someday we will look back and laugh, retelling stories of cut sleeves and too-tight jeans and the wife who rudely honked in the driveway. Someday, our cards might be framed in grandchildren’s hallways, and they will laugh at our ugly shoes and my Bump-It bouffant and our color coordinates. But they will love them.

Who we really are is made up the well represented moments of imperfection that happen in our home every day—where we don’t stop to smooth out the wrinkles. We’ve captured so many of them.

Nella’s not feeling well today. She doesn’t want to be put down, and she doesn’t want to let go of her tissue.

But that once-a-year occasion where we Photoshop stains and stray hairs and snap at our kids to stop squinting and “act natural”—it’s part of who we are too.

It’s tradition, and I love me some holiday tradition.

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Congratulations to winners of the $25 gift certificate, courtesy of The Adorned Adobe:

Comment #178, Michelle: Your photos with quilts get me every time. XOXO, Missy from Indiana

Comment #36, Lovely Love: loved this post! you are too funny! i totally pictured you cartwheeling and dancing in my head lol! the pic of lainey on the beach with her “glass of wine” i loved! she looked so pretty and sophisticated and it gives you a glimpse of the amazing woman she will be one day. i needed this. i had a tough week last week, tough weekend, and today kinda sucked too. thank you 🙂

Michelle an Lovely Love, please e-mail your contact info to kellehamptonblog@comcast.net to redeem your gift certificates! Thanks.

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This week Dashing Bee joins us as a new sponsor. Dashing Bee provides a great online source where you can shop for inexpensive consignment children’s clothing, gear, toys and more. For anyone who loves shopping consignment, you know how great it is to score unique items that cost you less. I found some great items from Dashing Bee that satisfied my stripe obsession. Plus, I love that Lainey had this same sweater when she was little, and it’s always been one of my favorites.

Each month, Dashing Bee selects a charity benefiting children that receives a portion of their proceeds. Use Code ENJOY5 for 5% off your consignment order. Happy Shopping!

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And now, I leave you one blurry sneak peek–the reward of our efforts.

Any funny holiday card stories? Family photo traditions you love? Do tell.

I’ll take Holiday Craftastic for $400, Alex

November 7, 2011 By Kelle

Hear ye, hear ye: Holiday love shall now be proclaimed from this day forward. Thanksgiving’s only two-plus weeks away, putting Christmas at six–give or take–and by my calculations, that makes today Raise the Freak Flag Day (cue cartwheel, cartwheel, interpretive dance move, cartwheel).

Let there be crafts. And smiling. And high-on-life reflection.

In case you wondered, shadow pictures make me happy and no, I’m not wearing elf boots.

Oh, I had something good to say, but let’s just do this stream-of-consciousness, shall we? Because deciding to do a blog post stream-of-consciousness is like showing up for a job interview in an expensive borrowed blazer with a prepared stage-crap, sell-yourself speech only to find your soon-to-be boss in a kaftan, with his feet on his desk, holding a popsicle with your name on it. “Sit down,” he says. “Let’s talk about our kids and how we’re going to change the world. Over popsicles, of course.” And we sit, laughing, licking Bomb Pop juice off our fingers and tapping our popsicle sticks in a toast to Coldplay or aged cheese or, maybe, to Mary Oliver’s poetry, if I’m lucky. We both cry, trade friendship bracelets, and then he gives me the job.

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Weekend Delivered. Or perhaps, weekend delivers every single time it arrives, but it’s our job to accept delivery and sign for the package.

So, Friday night, I signed. In a moment of “I take thee, Life, to be my lawfully wedded whathaveyou,” I called my friend to arrange something grand at the beach. Last minute parties? Oh, they are the best.

Really, truly, I heard word that temperatures were shifting again in our parts, and if you take it to the beach at night in November, there’s a good chance you will encounter a sweet sliver of the north. Cold winds, cool water, the opportunity to bust out some ear-flap hats and sweaters. Hollah.

Top it with a bottle of “kid wine,” some grapes and cheese, and a line-up of jam jars full of candles as the sun is setting? Take me away. A secret place. A freaking pocketful of sunshine, at twilight, on the beach.

My friend, Andrea, actually said once we got to the beach, “I know you. You just did this for the sweaters and hats, right?” This is true. This is true. She knows me well. You can take the girl out of Michigan, but you can’t take Michigan out of the girl. Pink-flecked skies and Mason jar glow was just a bonus.

I interrupt this blog post to gush about what I love right now.

Billie Holliday is breakin’ it down on Pandora, and the great loves of my life have collided…late night writing, candle light glow, and my sweet baby, asleep on couch cushions next to my desk.

This makes me insanely happy.

So, I’ll keep it simple.

My happies, this weekend:

T-Soup with Parm
Tomato soup, doused with parmesan cheese and garnished with easy Jiffy buttermilk biscuits (smeared with butter and honey). Holiday magazine, optional yet imperative.

Twirl-a-whirl
Lainey put on a 12-18 months size dress this weekend and decided to give us a show. Cue Gustav Mahler CD and Nella in a chair watching, entranced.

And I had an “I am blessed to have two beautiful daughters” moment.

Car Wash
Daddy’s car first.

But, most importantly, the kid car. No airbags, but seriously, the workout that Flinstone pedaling gives ya?

Sister Rides
Late afternoon, when our feet hit the driveway pavement and the sun is slowly bowing out, you can hear this staccato giggle from Nella. Most likely, it’s induced from the thrill of Big Sister thrusting the little car forward on a fast ride along the sidewalk. And, in the exhileration of a fast ride, Nella stands in the back of that car and smiles while Brett and I holler “Nella, sit!” from the sidelines.

Sometimes, she listens and sits. Sometimes, she keeps on smiling while she stands and proclaims “I’m doin’ it my way!” And though I appropriately react with attention to safety and obedience, somewhere within, I’m fine with her defiance. I freaking love her spirit.

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And this is the part in that imaginary job interview where my kaftan-wearing soon-to-be-boss finishes his popsicle and says “Break it down, now.” As in, bring it. High on life? Show me. Like holidays? Prove it.

Oh, I’ll prove it. It’s November 7th, Dude. I see your kaftan and I raise you a 20-minute Christmas Craft, okay?

Here’s the deal. The word “Christmas Craft” alone makes me perk up much like a text announcing a new baby.

The first presence of the holidays in our home? A quick, homemade wreath. I wanted to add a bow or buttons or something more, but I loved it for its simplicity. Simplicity is good for me. Sometimes I peter out. And this craft easily welcomed a four-year-old’s assistance.

It’s as simple as a styrofoam wreath form from a craft store, some fabric scraps and a bottle of Tacky glue.

Voila. It’s a little grandma-ish and, being that I’m thirty-two and now appreciate the beauty, wisdom and experience of that generation, I dig grandma-ish.

Of course, Wreath is begging for some friends, and he will soon be joined by some other freak-flag-waving decor cousins.

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Meanwhile, we are brainstorming special gift ideas for friends and family. And I am loving watching my girl beam from the satisfaction of creating things to give away.

An easy, inexpensive gift for friends?
Embellished chalkboard.

Seriously, it’s a five dollar gift, and it took maybe fifteen minutes to create.
Materials: Wood frame, assorted felt, embroidery floss, embroidery needle, Tacky glue, primer, chalkboard paint.

Prime frame, paint with chalkboard paint, adorn with felt bunting.

Keep for yourself or decorate with twine and chalk to give away for a holiday gift.

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Remember cool artist chick, Casey Leigh?
Well, congratulations to Comment #202, Talia: Love the photo of the girls sharing. Just lovely. Like you, we are practical and when the opportunity presents itself for me to take my girls to dinner – we go and cherish each moment!

Talia, your home is about to be graced by Casey’s love of art. Please e-mail your contact info to kellehamptonblog@comcast.net, and your wall will be soon be happy!

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I’ve gone through far more pony tail holders and barrettes for my girls than I’d like to admit. I’ve proclaimed new methods for organzing trinkets many times, but I’ve never found the right fit for us. So, naturally, I’m excited to lauch our our new sponsor, The Adorned Abode, which provided the perfect fix for our hair accessory storing problem.

Kelly, of The Adorned Abode, does custom decoupage work to all her trinket and jewelry boxes, and her husband custom creates all the wood recipe boxes.

We love our new accessory box. And Lainey likes the whole idea of opening drawers and choosing accesories from a tiny dresser, just her size.

You can enjoy a 10% discount from The Adorned Abode, using code ENJOYING10, and two commenters will be randomly chosen from this post to receive a $25 gift certificate, courtesy of The Adorned Abode shop.

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And tomorrow is a special day. Gary turns 50. Happy Birthday to a very special part of our family…thank you, Gary, for everything you do. We love you. 50–that’s a big year, Dude. Celebrate that life.

(and sleep it off later)

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Have a great week.

Brett has proclaimed his holiday love by promising only to use the snowman mug for his coffee from now until the New Year. If only I could think of such a badass way to declare my holiday love.

Friday Not-So-Quicky

November 4, 2011 By Kelle

Fridays should start something like this, yes?

I love her smile–it’s so big, she has to close her eyes to contain it.

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And if Fridays should start like that, then every week should start by knocking on doors, soliciting candy. It sets a celebratory tone for the days that follow–and a Milk Dud supply to boot.

Slowly, year by year, Lainey has lost her hesitation for trick-or-treating. This year, at four years old, she boldly marched to dim entryways on her own–past synthetic spider webs stretched across hedges and plastic skeletons hung from branches. She didn’t ask to hold our hand or shy away from the big kids. Little Bo Peep is no timid little sheep, at least when handfuls of Starburst are invovled.

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Ballet is still going strong as is the will of the little sister who wants nothing more than to be part of Big Sister’s class.

Thanks to a broken door that wouldn’t stay closed this week, she weasled her way in, and her smile screamed “I know I’m not supposed to be here, but look at me!”

And yesterday, in our hour of imagination exploration with Miss Lulu, we went to the moon. It was quite spectacular.

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Our resident humidity has been swept away and replaced with pleasant breezes and cool cement. We’ve been welcoming each morning with the ceremonious opening of sliding glass doors, and ending each night with talks of what we are anticipating in the coming weeks–a camping trip, an active fireplace, and maybe–just maybe–seeing our breath in the morning.

This time of year, we love our parks. No more hot-stepping across blistering pavement or testing silver slides first for burn patrol.

Since the moment I placed both my girls in a swing–way back when I had to prop blankets around their bodies and anchor their little heads–they smiled. They always smile when they swing.

Our park visit the other night was followed by an impromptu dinner at Chili’s. Brett is practical and resourceful, and whenever I’m looking for excuses to go out to eat (“We don’t have anything in our refrigerator,” a.k.a. “I don’t feel like cooking”), he magically finds leftovers or some brilliant recipe for flour and water. I love going out to eat–to the simplest of places. I love the vibe of our family in a booth, the cheap waxy crayons they bring my kids, that we’re-on-vacation feeling that comes with having someone bring you baskets of chips and salsa and extra napkins. So when Brett actually proposes on his own that we go straight from park to restaurant? I want to marry him all over again.

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Nella and Latte. Their relationship is much like the one Lainey and Latte shared back when she was a half-pint too. Love, hate. Strange silences, silly games, a secret language only they understand. Latte is, literally and figuratively, a female dog. She likes to have the last word. She likes to win. Both my girls have challenged this.

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Among Park, Target, Aleena’s House and Ballet, somehow Fruit Market has found its place among Lainey’s Favorite Places to Visit.

She likes that she can push her own cart and eat free samples. And now, we’ve added shopping for plants and flowers on our market visits.

I’m slowly building a collection of greens to fill my bay window. I’ve allowed myself the privilege of buying a new plant for every week my current collection survives. So far, we have a family of five thriving pots. This is an amazing feat.

The happiness effect my new plants has given me is far too great to let my care-taking efforts weaken. We shall see.

Sister sharing makes me smile.

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Friday Photo Dump:

Friday Phone Dump photos are taken on the Instagram Iphone app (free) and dropped into a 12×12 collage. I am etst on Instragram if you want to follow the feed.

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Our new sponsor this week is a beautiful mama who has a heart for art.

Casey Weigand is a multi-talented artist who paints, hosts art classes for kids in her Dallas studio and offers her blog design expertise. If you’re in the Dallas area, check out her hands-on art classes. And if you’re not in Texas, you can still buy a piece of her beautiful art or benefit from her blog design talents here.

Casey is giving away a $50 gift card toward Casey Leigh art in her shop. One comment will be randomly selected from this post and announced Monday.

Check her out! Her blog is a fabulous, colorful place to browse too.

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It’s Friday. Let the weekend begin!