Kelle, Author at Enjoying the Small Things

Happy Isle

September 5, 2011 By Kelle

Following a lesiurely spent holiday that involved anything but labor, words will be few tonight as I’d like to submerge back into the nothingness we’ve enjoyed this weekend.

Saturday night, we drew an entire city in the driveway, and the girls were stoked to run cars through the chalky streets.

Correction: Lainey was stoked to run the cars; Nella rather to drag her butt across skyscrapers, two stop lights and one entire street, erasing Target, the library, and smearing the left half of McDonalds. Lainey was, of course, thrilled.

Sunday morning greeted us with skies that begged for adventures of the Holy Beach kind. And when the Church of the Holy Beach calls, we do our best to answer.

Friends showed up in droves this week and, with the arrival of each family toting babies and sand toy bags, making their entrance onto the beach, we cheered and cleared space on the sand for more blankets and babies and people we love.

And, as always, I watch Brett and smile because everything about him when he’s here just sings “I’m in my element.”

We did Holy Beach things.

Like scour wet sand for the good shells (I like the spiral ones).

Watch the resident dogs chase frisbees and sticks into the water.

Make sand beds in the shade for sleeping babies.

Sneak out to explore hidden finds on the Isle.

Lull babies to sleep on quiet kayak rides.

And file more moments away in the Favorite Place folder of our memories.

We stayed long after the sun set.

Tucked inside the tiki hut, the party continued.

…until babies finally fell asleep.

I closed my eyes on the long drive home and skipped a shower when we arrived, choosing rather to join my girls, sandy and sun-screened, under the sheets.

It was a good weekend.

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Winner of the Noonday Collection necklace, generated by Random.org, is Comment #549, Meghan: I heart this post 🙂

Congratulations, Meghan! Please e-mail your contact info to kellehamptonblog@comcast.net.

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Come September, it’s fair game in Florida to pull fall decorations from dusty bins in the attic. This week, I am looking forward to some cleaning, rearranging and getting our home ready for fall traditions. We’ve been talking about cleaning out some bad habits as well–more family time, more dinners around the table, more good routines and company over for impromptu Friday night get togethers. Just talking about it gets me excited. I love a good challenge.

Hope you all had a great weekend.

Favorite Day.

September 3, 2011 By Kelle

It’s rained for about six days straight now. Not all day, but if we’re playing by “Majority Rules,” then it’s clearly a victory for Gray Skies, with Blue and Sunny bowing out respectfully. Until this morning. Finally.

I love home days. I like sitting cross-legged on the carpet in Lainey’s room and watching her mold Moon Dough into snakes and pancakes, or planning all day to make something fabulous in the kitchen even if I never do. I like knowing we have no business outside the walls of our house that calls us to get up and go, and yet today I needed out. I had to breathe air that hadn’t been circulating in our house for six gray days–so much a trip to the bank even sounded adventurous. I had no idea where we were going, but I braided Lainey’s hair, slipped ruffle socks and silver shoes over Nella’s bare feet and buckled them (the girls, not the feet) into their car seats–ready for something. Brett called me on my way out. “Where are you off to?” …and I laughed as I drove: “I have no idea where I’m going, but we’re going somewhere.”

And I think that pretty much sums up everything. Parenting, living, moving forward, embracing change, making something good of what you’ve been given.

I have no idea where I’m going, but I’m going somewhere.

We drove. Toward the beach, but then turned South on 41 and kept driving. Past big banks with mirrored windows and bus stops where trolleys picked up passengers on their way to somewhere too. I turned up the volume and Brett’s Jimmy Buffet CD picked up where it left off. I told Lainey we were going on an adventure and I made a mental note of just how much my senses were on fire when I heard Nella laughing that can’t-catch-her-breath giggle when Lainey made faces at her.

For some reason, today was one of my favorite adventures I’ve ever had with my girls. As my Holland friends would say…today was my favorite day.

I wanted to be back by three because I had work to do, but we didn’t roll in the driveway until almost 7 tonight, and I didn’t care.

Sometimes, when you don’t know where you’re going–and you embrace the freedom in that very fact–you enjoy the journey so much more. Like an unplanned road trip with lots of stops.

First stop: Cambier Park, the furthest park from our house but worth the little drive for its open sanctuary of sitting space that’s covered with dried fallen leaves all year round and encircled by enchanted-looking trees, perfect for climbing.

We found hearts everywhere. In fallen leaves.

Floating in the sky.

And thousands of them, suspended in a green canopy overhead.

She gave me one to keep forever.

You bet your sweet ass, I will.

We climbed empty bleachers at the baseball field and smiled when we realized we were in the perfect spot when it started to rain, protected by a tin roof that echoed with every ping ping ping of raindrops.

Sister can climb like a Mutha.

Post-rain, Lainey danced for an audience of two in the outdoor auditorium.

Followed by snacks downtown.

And then my favorite. The encore.

We turned out of the park and, driving nowhere once more, I turned right. I turned right instead of left and, as Frost would say…that has made all the difference.

Two stop signs and a dead end–a dead end into a quiet cul de sac hugged by nothing but blue skies, a sea of glass, and two rows of palm trees standing erect at the entrance to the beach, like a welcoming red carpet.

Oh, we parked that car alright. We had nothing–no towels, no beach blanket, no stroller, no hats. We dug through the back seat and I, for once, was thankful I managed to maintain a state of shambles in my car. Lainey found a can of sunscreen, a t-shirt, a thin receiving blanket and a Dora sun visor.

We walked through the rows of palm trees, and I half expected them to clap–to call out our names as we busted moves down the soul train aisle and into the promised land and reason we live here.

We smoothed the edges of our tiny thin receiving blanket on to the sand and walked the shore towards the pier. It was one of the most beautiful beach days I’ve ever experienced in my eight years here.

And then we did it. I’ve been wanting to do it ever since I saw the life-loving grandma wringing her shorts on the beach months ago.

“Hey Lainey, you wanna go swimming?” I asked with a cunning smile.

“But we don’t have any bathing suits.” She has to answer this way because Brett is her dad, and she follows in his responsible footsteps.

“Let’s go in our clothes.” I delivered my solution with the same excitement I’ll use someday when I tell her “Let’s play hooky from school today.” She smiled back, and I secured Nella closely to my hip, took Lainey’s hand and the three of us ran with wild smiles into the gulf.

Yes, I’m sentimental. I might describe my girls’ births as if heaven done swallowed me up toward the glory of God and a sunset at Isle of Capri as a heart-stopping celebration. I’ll own my sugar, and I’ll eat it smiling. But let me tell you, that moment today? Sentimental or not–clinging a girl on each hip, the gulf skimming our shoulders, clothes drenched in sea water and looking out at the bluest freaking sky I’ve ever seen?

Today was my favorite f#$@ing day.

We reemerged from the water, dripping, just long enough to walk up to a man, hand him my camera and say “I’ve lived here for eight years and it’s about time we do this. Can you please take a picture?”

He took three.

We stayed another hour. Chasing seagulls, writing our names with beach pens, counting shells. I sat half-submerged in shallow water, nursing a baby, watching my big girl, and I knew at that moment I wouldn’t forget the day we swam in the ocean, fully dressed.

Sometimes, it takes not knowing where you’re going to arrive someplace fabulous. And whenever I am sure I’m lost, I will keep driving. I will look to the left and to the right as I drive, taking in the sights as I go. And I will know that somewhere not far ahead, there’s a beach. There’s a beach where I can run so fast, I don’t even have to stop to change my clothes.

Today is my favorite day.

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Friday Photo Dump:

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I am excited to introduce our new sponsor for multiple reasons. I am fascinated with the smart, new companies that are emerging that serve dual purposes–creating beautiful, wearable products while providing employment opportunities and necessities for underprivileged people. Noonday Collection is one of those companies, and Independent Consultant Lori Boynton is pairing with Enjoying the Small Things in sponsorship this month with beautiful accessories created by artisans around the world. Each piece comes with a story behind it, and by buying Noonday Collection accessories, you are helping support artists trying to make a living not only in the USA but in Ecuador, Peru, India, Uganda, and many more.

The Inca Steps necklace comes in teal, bone and coral and was handcrafted from nuts of the tagua palm.

One commenter will be randomly selected from this post to receive a free Inca Steps necklace, in bone or teal, courtesy of Lori Boynton’s Noonday Collection store

Winner will be announced in Monday’s post.

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Until then, there’s a holiday weekend. Three favorite days. I don’t know where we’re going, but I know we’ll end up somewhere good.

Happy Weekend. Happy Labor Day. Happy Favorite Day.

Unplugged, Plugged: Hallmark

August 31, 2011 By Kelle

This post is another Hallmark sponsored post. I am being paid by Hallmark to write it, but all writing, ideas and opinions are mine. Thankfully, Hallmark and I share the same idea–that little moments are to be celebrated and that good people, good efforts and good intentions deserve a spotlight. See Hallmark Life is a Special Occasion for more details, like them on Facebook, and/or sign up for their e-mail messages HERE.

After yesterday’s Unplugged Day, I’d like to tell you I’m writing this post with a pen–a good old-fashioned quill pen and some parchment that I just pressed from our own trees. And after I write it, I’m going to slip it in an envelope and take it to the town courier who will set off on horseback for his postal journey. Hallmark might get it somewhere near Christmas, and that’s only if the courier didn’t get eaten alive by wolves. He can’t call for help, you know. No cell phone. Once my mail has been deployed, I will get back to churning butter and knitting booties and making bonnets for the little ones.

Well, that’s not happening. I am, in fact, sitting amidst a mess of cords and hard drives and USB hubs with lights that, I swear, are blinking to the rhythm of Jingle Bells. My phone sits close on my desk, and I have to admit that when I went to write this, I was first sidetracked by three e-mails, a Facebook status update and a wicked clever attempt by Zappos who I know has placed a chip in my brain to memorize my shoe preferences because their ads only feature things I like.

I’ll admit something else. When Hallmark suggested a few topics for September posts, I skimmed through them, saw “Unplugged” and knew I’d be selecting anything but that one. It’s not that I’m addicted to technology–I have no problem stepping away from my phone or the computer. It’s just that I didn’t really want to dedicate a full day to purposely shutting everything off because I knew I’d just feel guilty for how much more I should be doing it.

But I was surprised at the outcome. I don’t feel guilty. I feel reminded of the importance of balance.

Act One: The Part Where I Twitched

I woke up early yesterday. It is unusual for me to make my morning trudge toward the kitchen without a baby clung to my hip or a toddler tip-toeing behind me, but yesterday it was just me and the first rays of the sun and the quiet of a sleeping household. I spooned a few teaspoons of fake coffee into a cup, poured hot water over it and leaned against the island in my pajamas, contemplating what to do next. No kids. I could get so much done—tackle my e-mails, write, edit photos. But no, it was Unplugged Day and I wasn’t going to cheat. For all the times I couldn’t find my phone buried in the heap of junk on our catch-all counter, suddenly it stood out like chipped red polish on an otherwise perfect manicure, luring me near. It would only take a few minutes to scroll through my e-mail box, weed out some clutter and delete some spam, and I almost gave in, convincing myself Unplugged Day didn’t start until the kids woke up. But I stood firm, even though I twitched. Yes, I nervously twitched, the first sign that this day dedicated to stepping away was important in reestablishing the most important priorities, none of which are e-mail. Here’s the crazy thing about e-mail: it doesn’t disappear.

Watching the Today Show wasn’t an option, so I threw a load of laundry in, wiped down the counters, sat on the couch and thumbed through the girls’ scrapbooks, enjoying the silence and lack of pressure to get something done. After an hour of quiet, I realized how much I missed the girls and tried to will them to wake up. And when they didn’t, I took the opportunity to make French toast for them so that when they did, a good breakfast would greet them.

I won’t rattle on with a play-by-play of the day, but I will say, I didn’t twitch for long. In fact, my shoulders settled and, knowing I’d be sticking to my plan of not giving in, I enjoyed myself more. No pressure to get back with anyone, no stress of having to do work. Remember snow days when everything seemed better just because school got called off? Yeah. It’s kind of like that.

We didn’t churn butter or knit booties or make bonnets. We did the things we always do, but it felt a little bit like vacation spilled into real life because I made a point to enjoy them more—no pressure to get home, to finish up, to hurry up because there was something else I had to get done.

I watched my ballerina a little more closely.

I noticed more triumphs during Nella’s physical therapy and I clapped a little more enthusiastically.

And I followed my girls down the sidewalk in the afternoon and never once said “time to turn around.”

Act Two: The Part where I Missed being Plugged

I could easily end this with some predictable closing line about “time to turn around” and how a day of Unplugged changed me for good. But that’s not true. What’s true is that I did indeed realize it is so easy to adopt bad habits—to let e-mail and Facebook, texting and TV seep into our lives and stretch roots where they’re not invited. But, I also learned that there’re a lot of good things about being plugged, and there’s a reason I missed some habits yesterday that people so quickly deem as “bad.”

What is it that phones and computers and televisions plug us into? Is it evil? Hardly.

It’s people.

And me loves me some people.

I realized yesterday just how much an instrument technology is in connecting me with people I love. I reached for my phone in a store to take a picture of Hello Kitty pencils to send to Lainey’s ballet teacher because she loves Hello Kitty. But then I put it back. I pulled it out again to tell my friend Dot her niece was our server at Applebees because I knew that’d make her smile. But then I put it back again. No texting. My sister called me, encouraging me to get on Facebook stat to watch an amazing video that would rock my world, and I knew from her enthusiasm, it would be good…but it was Unplugged Day. Nope. Can’t do it. I wanted to know how my friend Elizabeth was feeling during her chemo, and I wondered if there was an e-mail from her just sitting in my box. And when I heard my phone ding during breakfast, I “accidentally” looked to see a text from my friend Amy who had just dropped her little Kayla—who shares Nella’s almond eyes—off for her first day of kindergarten, and Mama was a hot mess of tears. I admit, I cheated on that one. I couldn’t grab my phone fast enough to call her up and cheer her on. And that’s when I realized there are so many incredible things about texting and Facebook and blogs and e-mail, and curling up on the couch with Brett on a Friday night to watch a movie. I missed these things yesterday. And I didn’t feel guilty about missing them.

The amount of people that are online or that have televisions in their homes or that have data and texting plans on their cell phones—it shouldn’t be alarming in the What-is-this-world-coming-to? way. It should be inspiring in that there are so many opportunities to promote change and positively affect such a mass of people who are plugged in. It’s a different world today. And while yes, I wish we still had petticoats and carriages, dance cards and phrases like “come a callin’”, we have American Idol, Skype, On Star–and fabulous opportunities to connect with people. To make their day with an e-mail or a text. To use the “evils” of technology to make a difference.

Shoe shopping can make a difference too.

It’s all about balance. Recognizing when we need to pull back and focus on our own families and yet embracing the modern world and using its advances for good.

I don’t want to twitch anymore. That’s for sure. But I also don’t want to give up routines I love—like watching Little Bear curled up on the couch with my girl, saving reruns of Deadliest Catch to enjoy over Chinese take-out with Brett, Skyping with friends far away or texting pictures of Hello Kitty pens to ballet teachers who own the matching notebooks.

We’ll be repeating the Unplugged day for sure. I like the awareness, the focus, the calm it brings. Like a snow day.

But I also love relishing in the joys of being plugged in…to the many people that help make our life grand.

The courier has a long night of travel ahead of him and a treacherous journey to get this post to Hallmark before due date. Or I could just hit “publish” and save him the trip.

Plugged or Unplugged? Why not both?

Hallmark and I would love to hear about the Unplugged and Plugged rituals, traditions and routines you have that draw your family and friends closer together. Please share one of each in the comments. I’ll start.

1)Plugged: Our extended family–aunts, uncles, cousins, grandkids–have an e-mail chain that continues to keep us together long after my grandparents passed away. We’re all on the link, and e-mails trickle in every week–with happenings, stories, challenges, etc. Without it, I wouldn’t know my family as well as I do. I wouldn’t feel as loved and supported and connected to the thing that matters most…family.

2) Unplugged: Bedtime book reading. All bodies smooshed in the bed, Brett and I acting as book-ends on the end to keep the little bodies from falling off. We read by nightlight and magically, the sisters grow quiet and stop fidgeting. We trade off who reads each page, and I laugh when Brett tries to attempt a funny voice. We don’t do it every night–maybe we should, but we forget. But when we do? It’s special. Really special. Kind of like a snow day.

To see all Life is a Special Occasion posts on this blog, click HERE.