Kelle, Author at Enjoying the Small Things

Weekend Giveaway

February 6, 2011 By Kelle

Stoppin’ in real quick like to bring you a little weekend giveaway love ‘cuz we loves us free stuff.

Looking for a meaningful Valentine’s Day gift? You’re guaranteed to find it among Lisa Leonard’s beautiful collection.

All photos, courtesy of lisaleonardonline.com

I have several pieces of hers I’m quite in love with and just found this one, the word of the year necklace, I think is simple, beautiful and interesting.

So, tell me. What is your word of the year? Taking everything you learned last year and using it to fuel this next one, what word represents how you will go about the joys and challenges of this year?

Two winners will be randomly chosen for a $50 Lisa Leonard Designs gift certificate.

I’ll start…Capable.

Winners of both this giveaway and Friday’s Timeless Settings giveaway will be announced tomorrow.

And now, back to our weekend.

Enjoying the Small Things

February 4, 2011 By Kelle

When all else fails, there exists the ever present need to enjoy the small and simple things.
With that said, a mindless but needful Friday post:

E N J O Y I N G . . .

Nella Messes.
Her mad roller derby crawling skills and advanced mobility and curiosity bring with it new messes which are, in their own way, delightful to find. Messes like an entire bag of wheat puffs she dumped in the play room.

The Angry Face.
She has to force it, but it’s so funny, I find myself prompting her. “Show me angry,” I’ll say. And she works so hard to hide her smile as she furrows her brow and purses her lips. Makes me laugh, every time.

Sleepy Meals.
Eating is hard work. And this face clearly says, “I’m done.”

You Gotsa Blizzard, We Gots Sunshine.
Not that I’m rubbing it in because, Lord knows, I miss the cozy feeling of Batten Down the Hatches and watching mad flakes dance and skip and join forces for a victorious whiteout. However, after a string of boot-wearing, quilt-hugging days, the emergence of warm pavement that calls for bare feet and higher temps that beg for suits and clover-hunting afternoons is happily welcomed.

And our kickball doubles as therapy. It’s so funny to watch her strain her little side muscles to stay upright, and she’s gettin’ really good at it.

Chutes and Ladders
She’s still figuring out the rules of the game and kinda cheats by going up all the ladders and avoiding all the chutes…

…but she does think it’s really funny how the game pieces look like us.

Daddy Lovins.

Impromptu Getaways.
They are redeeming in that they erase the busy and craziness of multi-tasking days and have a way of reversing event-filled schedules to a seemingly blank slate. And the shorter the notice, the better. Like, “Hey Brett, can you meet us at Steak ‘n Shake in twenty minutes?”

The excitement being that a family trip to Steak ‘n Shake is a first. And we handled it so–like tourists–requesting extra hats, a second shot of malt powder, a slab of bacon on an already greasy burger. When in Rome, Baby.

Making Valentines.
My holiday-lovin’ heart is gettin its hit with lace and scissors and teaching my girl how to properly address an envelope…with stamps and stickers, of course.

Hesitating For Just a Happy Moment Before I tell Lainey She Can’t Strong-arm Her Sister.

The Return to Sacred Ground.

Room 7, the walls of which hold our story. I debated giving it its own post, but it seems fitting the cathartic journey of returning to the room where Nella was born belongs, as it does in real life, amidst the rest of the current that has propelled us forward. It’s been interesting attempting to head back up there, first scheduled for the night before Nella’s birthday and planned to include several girls. However, a full moon delivered a wild labor ward that night, pushing (no pun intended) off our plans until a few days later, and then later, and again, another try. But Room 7 was busy blessing other mamas with their stories until last night, on a whim, I called up and found out indeed, it was waiting for me. Empty but alive. And, suddenly, I had butterflies in my stomach, and I’m not even sure why. It’s just that I feel so progressed from the devastation I felt in that place, and yet I wanted to reconnect with it in a way that would bridge the gap between there and here, then and now, before and after. I knew walking onto the sacred ground between those walls would reignite dormant emotion, and just thinking about it began its stirrings.

Fortunately, two kindred spirits came with me–one that was so very present that night and who remembers things even I don’t and one who wasn’t and wanted to hear the story from the place it started. So it was, Heidi and Nana Kate joined me for my journey to The Birth Place and I, in a moment of ceremonialism, scoured the house thirty seconds before we left, searching for divine tokens from that night. The plastic Sharpie-scrawled champagne cups we used to toast her birth, the same candles that flickered when we welcomed her. I tossed them in my bag and settled for a bottle of Coors Light to bring to fill the cups because we had no champagne, and off we went.

There was pain–the searing beauty of it when we stepped into that place. It was brief but concentrated. Like I could close my eyes and remember it like it was yesterday. Like I was standing in the room as a visitor at the edge of the bed watching my sad old self grimace and cry. I could feel the emotion that was so present that night.

We huddled, the three of us, for a small moment and cried. Hugged it out and patted backs. And then, it left. The pain left the building, and it became the room where we celebrated. Where flowers gathered and friends smiled and girls sat on my bed and told me she was the sweetest baby ever. I remembered the magic of that room very much like Room 10, three doors down, where three and a half years ago I heaved happy sobs when Lainey slipped into our lives. And so we popped the cork–or, in our case, twisted the cap–poured some golden bubbly and toasted to the love that began in that room…in the same cups that toasted that same love just a year ago.

We told Nana Kate all about that night, remembering things we almost forgot and marveling at how small the room seems now. “I swear the room was twice this size,” Heidi said. Because what happened in that room seems too big to fit in that space.

We sat on the bed and told stories last night in Room 7 for forty minutes. And we laughed…a lot. Heidi reenacted my guttural labor sounds and ran back and forth to the door, interpreting the funnier events of that night that deserve their part too. And it was all so very good and healing.

And I left, feeling lighter, renewed and restored by the full-circle revelation that pain not only brings healing, but redemption. I couldn’t help but remember the lyrics my sister wrote on her post announcing Nella’s birth.

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That’s burning up inside

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful ~Sara Groves

And because meaningful ceremonies like returning to birth rooms occur amid the less meaningful ebb and flow of life everyday–and that’s where they belong–I will sandwich the celebration of our defining moment between the rest of this post.

Enjoying the Small Things, Continued:

Her Love-Me Eyes, One Year Later

New Home Stuff.
…makes me happy and provides nice incentive to clean my house.

New Sponsor, Timeless Settings Boutique, features a lovely range of unique home goods.
Loving my new chicken wire planter from them that holds my rosemary plant.

And our beautiful antique-looking tea caddy–tea being my favorite thing to serve to anyone who stops by because strangely, it makes me feel hospitable when the state of our house might suggest differently. Just waiting for someone to step into our wheat-puffed scattered living room so I can serve them a spot of tea, letting them select from this nice little box. Brushing up my British accent to go with it.

A $50 gift certificate to Timeless Settings will be given to a random commenter on this post.

And the Elizabeth St. gift certificate winner is Commenter #207, Kelly Cach (Hi, Kelly!): Oh, so sorry! This hurts my heart to the core…my Gabe is 9 and my Eli is 7. Will be holding them even tighter today. Prayers for your friend and blessings to you today, Kelly

Kelly, you know where to send your info! xoxo

And a big sigh to follow a big post.
Many happy moments to you this weekend.

A Nella goodbye wave to you and you and you.

Shaken.

February 2, 2011 By Kelle

Monday, I was shaken. Shaken in a way that allowed the haunting world of “what if” to shift the ground beneath me and unsettle everything I thought I knew…for a moment.

An old friend from Michigan lost her son in a sledding accident. He was eight. And when my dad called to tell me the news, I dropped my chai tea in the middle of Starbucks and ran out the door. Because I had to get home to my kids.

I pulled into the driveway to a waving, barefoot Lainey who was sitting cross-legged and carefree in the grass next to Brett. I left the car door open while I ran, breathless, to grab her, hold her, tell her I loved her so very much. And I cried and told Brett about the little boy whose Christmas card I just pulled off my wall two weeks ago. My heart painfully throbbed between hurting for my devastated friend and forcing myself to stand in her shoes–to wonder how one would ever be able to walk again after such heartache.

It consumed me for the rest of the day and well into the night. I whispered his name, prayed for his family, closed my eyes and tried to will peace into their brokenness. You hear of these things on the news. The news–where real little boys who belong to people you know are safe in their homes playing video games and being kissed by their mamas. But I know this family. And the looming truth of Sometimes Bad Things Happen to Good People made me feel stifled and afraid.

I held Lainey’s hand a little tighter on the way to the lake that night and broke Nella’s crackers into tinier pieces, fingersweeping her mouth between each bite. I thought about every what if that haunts me. And while I knew searching for answers was futile, I questioned and arrived at an opressive emptiness.

We quietly watched our heavy Florida sun sink slowly behind the silhouette of forest at the edge of the lake, and I suddenly felt a peace.

There will never be answers for so many of life’s grandest questions, and the unsettling ground of “what if” will shake us as parents many times along this journey. And while pain does not flow well with what we all have in mind for our future and what we strive every to day to achieve, it is a part of this world and the great catalyst for challenging us to love bigger and better every day.

We are vulnerable beings. We were born, and we will die. But today, while we breathe, we live deliberately.

“I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Yesterday, I felt so entirely present for my family.

We read books and ate popsicles, had scavenger hunts in the woods and made art in the driveway.

Dollar Frames, Target, spraypainted.

It was healing and calming. I drank in every tiny feature of their sweet faces until I could close my eyes and know them by heart. I kissed more, hugged tighter, held longer.

The rawness of Monday’s reality will eventually fade, masking the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerabilty that’s gripped me, and allowing myself to sink back into the mundane rhythms of daily life–to-do lists, projects, new shoes, new recipes, play-dates, wants, frustrations. Because our brains are not Bible bookstore plaques and, while it would be nice to be programmed to “Seize the Day” and “Enjoy the Small Things” at every given second, the Unimportant has its place too–balancing the defining moments, softening the blows. We need Unimportant. And, as crazy as it sounds, we need to forget once in awhile–to get lost in silly pleasures like shoes and lipstick, movies and books, planning trips and renovating bathrooms. Together, it brilliantly combines for a good life while we have our breath and allows the moments we do remember the importance of it all–moments like yesterday–to rise effortlessly to the top.

My Girls, My Loves, My Reminders.

And so we carry on, stirring the Unimportant and the Important together into a rich batter of purpose. I will kiss the tender skin of their eyelids when they are sleeping and whisper everything I want to say they might not understand by night, and in the morning I will butter toast, pour juice and complain about the disastrous state of the kitchen. I will make grocery lists and dog-ear too many pages of things I want in the Anthropologie catalogue, but I will gladly put them down to embrace jammied bodies in my lap and read There’s a Mouse About the House one more time. Both worlds are good. Both worlds are needful.

Wooden Spoon Doll has been named “Grandma Krissy”

Thank you so much for sharing your favorite latitudes…your happy escapes. And now I want to take a family road trip. I really do enjoy reading them and am inspired by your words too. I’ll be working on more ways you can share your voice on this blog in the future.

A few comments you may enjoy:

Abilew-who: In Chicago, we have beautiful Millenium Park, and they have free concerts on Monday nights. You can pack up your kids, your picnic basket, and sit on the lawn while the babies dance – drinking wine with the city lights of Chicago for a backdrop. Lovely I tell you.

Michelle: We’ve been going to Ebey’s Landing on Whidbey Island for years and years. It doesn’t matter what kind of weather, we love it any way we can get it! We’ve picnicked in the car, hiked in the rain, explored the rocky beach and basked in the soft sunlight. When my husband was deployed, he drew a stick figure family walking on a beach and sent it home to the kids with the promise “This is us at Ebey’s Landing when I get home”…..It was one of the first things we did after he got back. Eight years later that drawing is still on display on the fridge.

GabbyGrace: Shhhh…our secret place…Taylor’s Falls where river and trees meets a small quaint town with an old cool bridge and ice cream parlor, 6 inches of snow today still falling and although I am counting down the days to our trip to Hawaii, our 4 year old said it best…”we live in a snow globe mommy!” Yes we do!!!!

Kelsey: My little gem is Veronica’s Cafe that overlooks the Cook Inlet and the Mt. Redoubt volcano here in Kenai, Alaska. From Veronica’s you can gaze out at the ocean, admire the historical Russian Orthodox church and chapel, watch moose ambling by and eagles soaring overhead, all while eating the best clam chowder you’ve ever had, or sharing a banana nut muffin with a thirteen month old Bun-Bun girl

Becky: My hometown is Carlsbad, New Mexico where the mountains, plains and desert all meet. Most people think Carlsbad is a podunk kind of a place. But if they’d only look closer they’d see all the small unforgetable oases hidden among the yucca and rock of the desert. We have several small rivers complete with swimming holes that only the locals know about. There is one in particular that is a deep, clear, brillantly blue hole in the middle of no where. It is a great swimming hole and then there is Sitting Bull Falls. Wow, a true oasis. You’ll just have to come visit us to see for yourself all the treasures the desert holds! 🙂

Thank you again for sharing!

And Congratulations to Commenter# 791, laura.railing: My favorite magical place here is this perfect beach. It’s absolutely beautiful, no matter what time of year, however freezing or warm. it’s my favorite photography spot too.
oh and those books?? Yeah love them!!

Laura, you won a $50 gift certificate to Amanda Collin’s Usborne Book Shop! Please send your contact information to kellehamptonblog@comcast.net.

Again, thanks to generous sponsors, a random commenter on this post will be winning a present today, a $50 gift certificate to the fun, whimsical designs of Elizabeth St.

Being shaken a bit is good from time to time. When things finally settle, they settle more solidly.

Feeling thankful, aware and in love today. And holding Tom, Yvonne, Connor and all our Michigan friends who know them in our thoughts.