Street Find Friday: up-cycled throw pillows

Once in a great while Paris’ garbage collectors will go on strike. This fall was one of those times. It made for excellent street finds. Just around the corner from our house an elderly woman seemed to be downsizing (that’s a happier thought than someone emptying out her place. Right?) This lady had a lot of fabric she was getting rid of and so I kindly took some off her hands and out of her garbage bag. ; )

IMG_3176Each day as I passed this large assortment of fabric I thought, “What could I do with all this fabric?” My answer came, “Make it into throw pillows and open an store on-line!” Once my enthusiasm died down, I remembered that I didn’t know how to sew a zipper into a pillowcase and I didn’t really want to open an on-line shop. Instead, I decided I could make a couple of throw pillows for Christmas for two friends who have recently repainted rooms in their homes. (Spoiler alert- if you know who you are- “Happy early Christmas!!”)

I had to call on my seamstress friend Karen to teach me a thing or two about pillow making. She managed to walk me through a zipper-less pillow making tutorial and Voilà!, two lovely pillows ready to ship for Christmas.

Easy DIY Glitter-Tipped Roses

image

We are hosting two Chrsitmas parties today and tomorrow and I wanted a little glitz for our table. I mixed a tablespoon of Elmer’s glue with 1/4 c water (I shook it in a small Tupperware) and then poured it in a small ramekin. I then sprinkled glitter in an another ramekin. Dip the rose tips in the glue mixture, and roll the the tips, as to get all the petals. Then do the same in the glitter. Voilà, happy glittering!

UPDATE: As I continued to “glitz” my roses the glitter ramekin got a bit soupy. So, I just dipped the roses in the glue mixture and then held the roses over the sink and sprinkled the glitter over them. The effect was the same. : ) They are still holding up well a day later.

Street Find Friday!

Welcome to the “Street Find Friday” début! Our home is filled with these gems and often guests will ask, “Did you find that on the street, too?”Well, Tuesday was an outrageous day for street finds– I hit four just walking to pick Lexie up from school.

 

My first stop was a spot I had already visited twice. It was a pile of old drawers and cabinets that had lovely hardware. The first two passes I took what I could without a screwdriver and the third pass was with a screwdriver. Total score: 12 draw pulls. My little dude helped point out which cabinets still had hardware on them and once we were home, he helped me replace the knobs on the kids’ dresser.

The second stop was a lone light fixture, or chandelier as I like to say. I’ve had a hunch that our current chandelier is on the fritz because we replaced five bulbs in a week- and there are only four bulbs. So, this little gem will hopefully find its new home above our dining room table.

For the third stop, I felt a bit silly “joining” a lady that was already digging through four large bags that had been discarded by a public trash can… but I just couldn’t help myself. I crossed the street and tried to obey the unspoken code of street find politesse. “Excuse me, are these things yours?” “Non? Oh, may I…?” She was kind and pointed out contents of different bags, including some children’s items. (Are you weirded out yet? If you’re a bit of a germaphobe, I understand. I do carry hand sanitizer in my pocket and disinfect after each stop. But street finds are not for the faint of heart.) This ended up being a very posh stop and I quickly realized the moving van parked across the street was probably to explain the presence of these fantastic finds. Here’s what I made out with: a new coloring book, a new Hello Kitty lunch box, a never been used handheld breast pump, a Beaba formula tower, a Beaba frozen food storage container and a canvas and leather Bensimon handbag (which washed up beautifully!). I plan on bringing the formula tower and the breast pump to a consignment shop.

IMG_3169

By this point my stroller was looking quite peculiar but it didn’t really phase me as I parked it out front Lexie’s school. After we picked Lexie up and were headed home we ran into the final street find: a decent trash can. (Now I’ve lost all germaphobes.) Someone was clearly doing a bathroom remodel and were getting rid of collection of fine items. Do I need a trashcan? No, but surely someone I know does. Allez hop! What’s one last addition to the stroller? Our colleagues and new neighbors ended up being grateful recipients of this last score.

Lexie, my four-year old, has a growing love for street finds too. Over a year ago was when I realized that she had been keenly observing me. I picked something up off the street and she said, “Mama, take home and wash?” Yes, that’s right, darling. Another time she saw something I had found on the street and she asked where I had gotten it, to which I responded, “God provided it for us.” “Mama find on street?” Yes, that’s right, darling.

Paris is a fantastic city for street finds. What’s the best thing you’ve ever found on the street? What have you found on the street with me?

French Flags Flying Today

What a moving sight– French flags hanging out windows and in front of shops all across the city. It has already been two weeks since the shootings in Paris and today we are honoring those who died. In the 12 years I’ve lived in France I’ve never seen such a beautiful patriotic act. While the French are very proud of their culture, history, food and country in general, they are by no means “flag flying” types. As an American, I relish the thought of our family wearing matching forth of July flag t-shirts from Old Navy. But the French aren’t usually like that. But today, many French people flew flags as a way to show their solidarity.

I got a lump in my throat as I ran my different errands. At the library I saw the front page of one of the French newspapers: it was black with white text listing out the names of the men and women who were gunned down. Simple and moving. I don’t know any of those men and women personally but I really wish we had a flag to fly out our window tonight. Paris does feel like home.

A verse that Dave and I have been reading and thinking on lately comes from Jeremiah 29. When people think of this chapter they usually think of verse 11, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” But just before that it is written:

“Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon:  Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce.  Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease.  But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

Like the Israelites, Dave and I have been called to live in a foreign land (we’re not exiles, so let’s not get carried away with the parallels) but these verses really speak to us. Paris is our home, our three babies have been born here, we want to seek the good of this city. That’s why seeing those flags fly in our neighborhood today resonated in such a deep way; Paris is home. And in this city, I believe God has good plans for our lives and desires good for those who live here.

A Different Kind of Thanks

One year ago today I was about 11 weeks pregnant and I thought I was loosing my baby. In a flash I had lost a ton a blood and was lying on our bed trying to distract my one year old and three year by putting on an episode of Daniel Tiger. Dave was biking to campus and I couldn’t get ahold of him. “Pick up. Please, pick up,” I begged as his phone kept ringing. I made a tear-filled call to my upstairs neighbor and friend (the same friend who came over at 1 A.M. last week after the shootings). “Are you home? Can you please come down; I think I’m loosing my baby and I need to go to the hospital. I can’t get ahold of David.” Not only did she come down but she had called her husband who was driving to a physical therapy appointment and asked him to come home and take me to the hospital. How strange to get in the car with a guy I didn’t know very well at such a tumultous  moment in my life. But God provided so graciously through him and his wife.

After much silly waiting at the hospital (um, I had to go to the receptionist and give her my insurance information… after she was done helping the woman in front of me…), I was admitted to the emergency room. Tears kept streaming down my face… so this is how it feels to loose a baby… Oh my baby. Dave walked in the emergency room as the ultrasound started. My face was turned away from the screen; I didn’t want to look out. I squeezed Dave’s hand. The nurse urged me… “Look; look, it’s your baby. She’s moving. She’s O.K.” My tears of grief turned to tears of relief but I was still hesitant. What had happened? The nurse couldn’t find any abnormalities as she carefully scanned our baby. I was told to go home and rest for the day and come back in a few weeks to get a check up.

That afternoon my dear friend Karen came over and made me chicken noodle soup and  introduced me to the BBC production of Emma. I slipped in and out of sleep as I thought about the precious and fragile little life inside me. My heart ached for other mamas whose visits to the emergency room ended differently. Thanksgiving the next day was a bit of a blur… I was so relieved and yet still afraid that I’d never meet the little life that I was carrying and growing.

Today as I rocked that same little baby girl in my arms my eyes filled again with tears. Oh God, thank You for allowing me to hold her today. To see her tiny fingers curled around her stuffed giraffe and see her little pacifier bob up and down as she drifts off to sleep. Thank you for our little Chloe.

Thank you, too, for our neighbors who continually extend their friendship and help to us. They have been there for us during two of the hardest days of our time living in Paris (and so many other “normal” days). I can imagine a bit more the gratitude the pilgrims felt toward the Native Americans way back when on that first Thanksgiving… The pilgrims needed their help and wisdom to survive in a foreign land. And, we need our dear friends here. God, thank you for Your sweet provision.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Making Life Easier: Meal Planning

Thanks for all your concern and prayers for us in Paris. Yesterday we went out to the Caffe Cosy as a family to join other locals who were out enjoying an afternoon coffee. Our server told us that both brunch services had been full. It seems a lot of people are getting out and not letting fear keep them indoors or away from restaurants and cafés.

It felt particularly good to get outside yesterday because all three kids have been sick this week. Our baby is the last one to get better. Have you ever heard a hoarse baby cry? It’s soooo sad. Anyway, as a mom of three little ones and with extended family living 4,000+ miles away there are a couple of things that make my life easier in this season. One is having a new mom’s helper come to our apartment once a week. The French government extends this service to families with three or more kids for the first 6 months of the baby’s life. Nice; right? (We still pay an hourly fee but it is reduced.) Olesea is a huge help and blessing. I mean, she can’t replace my mom but she is great.

The other thing that makes my life easier is the meal planning service I signed up for a year ago. You can upload your own recipes or recipes you find online, then lay out your meal plan for the week and it generates a shopping list for you. I use it every week. Last week I planned our family’s meals for the week, got my grocery list and even translated some of the items into French (Olesea went to the grocery store for me)– all in 18 minutes. Bam! Done.

simple-meal-planning-300250

This Friday they are running their Black Friday special – which means their yearly subscription will be 50% off, bringing the cost to $19.50. Check out the Plan to Eat website- it’s so worth it. (Click here to use my referral link; I’ll get a little kickback. *Thanks*) Plus, you can sign up for their free 30 day trial and your subscription will start after the trail period. These people are legit. I have to say that it does take time to input your recipes, and you’ll need to take some time to get the most out of all the different features but look at it as an investment. You can also find different menus already on their website – even gluten free ones. Ok, if you have questions, you can ask me or ask the Plan to Eat staff. They are very helpful.

What’s something that has made your life easier this past year?

 

 

 

 

 

Coming Out of a Daze

Saturday night after the kids were in bed, Dave and I looked at each other and said, “I felt really absent today,” and “I just couldn’t focus on anything; why?” It wasn’t until that moment that I realize we were experiencing shock from the tragic shootings that rocked Paris the night before. We had spent the day indoors, I check my phone for news updates constantly and closed the curtains early that night.

The next morning we went to church. There were two dads and their young sons from our church that had been at the soccer match on Friday night when the suicide bombers bombed the stadium. Our friends from church were unharmed and were even unaware of the magnitude of what had happened until the next morning. Seeing their calm reassured me. And the fresh reminder of God’s grace on their lives helped me take a step out of the daze. Later Sunday afternoon, we went to the little zoo that’s in town thanks to the circus. Does that seem irreverent? It was good to be there with neighbors and process through how we were all doing. It’s this crazy in-between of feeling the pain of the depth of evil and still living day-to-day life.

IMG_3846
We saw elephants at the circus zoo 

Monday morning Dave took off to teach a seminar in Malta while I stayed behind with the kids. I kept our little girl home from preschool that day because I didn’t like the thought of our family being so spread out all at once. Tuesday, however, I was ready to take another step out of the daze. Lexie was happy to go back to school and her little friend was relieved to have her buddy back at recess. It was also Tuesday when I looked at a list of some of the victims and it sunk in deeper that these people were real folks just going out for a good time. As my in-laws would say, “It’s Friday night in Paris!” One of the victims was the owner of a restaurant I ate in the Friday night before (she was out celebrating her birthday at another restaurant in the neighborhood when she lost her life).

The yo-yo of emotions continued today when I skipped with joy when Dave pulled up in front of our apartment building, “He’s home!” Shortly thereafter, the French police raided a building in a suburb just north of Paris in an attempt to catch the mastermind behind Friday’s terrorist attacks. Ahh…

Each person is on their own journey in coming out of the daze and figuring out what life looks like now. As I talk to people I need to be careful to not compare myself to where they’re at in the process. One of my friends does a beautiful job articulating her hope in God as she faces the future. Another friend has decided to stop going to the theater and not go the the shopping mall by her apartment out of fear. One nanny I talked to at the park went the day after the shootings to the neighborhood where they happened; while another nanny found the idea horrific. And me; where am I at in the process? I’m waiting on God to give me “that word” or thought to help push my soul farther out of the daze. I have a deep, roaring conviction that He is in control and that He is good. So, maybe it is more so the depth of evil that I’m still grappling with… I’m not sure. This is where I’m at in the journey. How about you?

Paris Shootings

Last night I was only a ten minute walk away from my family and yet didn’t feel safe walking home. Sirens blaring, streets deserted and news pouring in of more and more victims and shootings. I was at our student Bible study for the first time this year. Normally, Dave is the one that goes but this week we decided I’d go.

I was just gathering up my things to start walking about around 9:50 P.M. when one of my teammates got a text asking if she was ok from her dad in California. (It’s always like that- we get news of what’s going on in France from family and friends texting from the U.S. Crazy how it all works these days…). We turned on the news, I called Dave and those of us at the Bible study made a plan for what each of us would do. Some were staying the night at Beth and Haley’s (where the Bible study was), another had to start making his one hour journey home because of commitments this morning and I didn’t know what to do. My baby, only 5 months old, still nurses every three hours and it was already amazing she hadn’t woken up while I was gone. Dave and I decided to have me sit it out a bit and see if they caught the gunmen or if there were more shootings. The shootings got closer and closer to our neighborhood as the night went on, so we wanted to make sure that trend didn’t continue. The last one was a good 20 minute bike ride from our place.
There were seven women left at the Bible study- we were glued to our phones and BFMTV for updates. We prayed for those traveling home and waited for news from our family, friends and teammates. Around 1 A.M. Dave knew he had to make something happen when he rummaged through the cupboards and freezer and realized there was no formula or breastmilk for Chloe. He had the great idea to text our neighbor and see if she could come down and stay with the sleeping kids while he drove to pick me and my friend Karen up from the Bible study. It was a go.
He pulled up in front of Beth and Haley’s apartment building, we hopped in – me sitting on the floor because the carseats were taking up the seats— and we drove home. People were driving through red lights because the streets were deserted and the police had better things to do than stop us. The roads were blocked just beyond our house- much like they were in January, I imagine, during the Jewish supermarket hostage situation. We quickly parked at home and went up to our apartment. Laura, our neighbor, greeted me with tears in her eyes. She’s a mom, too.
I was never so relieved to respond to my baby’s cry last night. And never so happy to hear my two year old cry out “Mama” because he couldn’t find his blanket in the night. Paris is our home and last night our home suffered tragically. I can only imagine those who didn’t make it home last night to their kids. I don’t want to think of those who are “still waiting” for news from their loved ones. Please pray for peace for those who witnessed the crimes, for their families and for the Parisian authorities to have wisdom. Would you also pray for our family? Dave is leaving on Monday to teach at a European leaders’ event with our job. It’s only a two and a half day trip but it could seem long in this uncertain time.

Sleep Depravation Causes Me to Run

Sleep depravation causes me to run… not to run a 10k like my friend Beth did this fall, but to run away from what comes out of the depths of my soul in these tired days. I think I’m annoyed because the living room is messy or the table still has crumbs on it from last night or one of the kids isn’t obeying (or sleeping!). But I’m really annoyed because I can’t hold it all together. And, “annoyed” is just a nice way of saying angry.

This is how our baby slept the first three weeks of her life.
This is how our baby slept the first three weeks of her life.

Tuesday morning was perfect example. By 7:45 A.M. I was “annoyed.” Dave and I were looking on-line at buying a second scooter for the kids and they were clamoring all over us and giving us their ideas: “But like the purple one.” “Ack ue one. Ack ue one.” (Translation: “Jack blue one.” “Jack blue one.”) I’m pretty sure the baby was fussing, too, and ready to go down for her morning nap. Yes, her morning nap. She got up at 5:15 A.M.. I plowed through and ordered a blue one as Dave and Lexie headed out the door for school. That blue scooter is what caused me to start running.

I ran to my phone each time it buzzed with a text. I ran to switching the laundry. I ran to a harsh word when I was “interrupted” in what I was doing. I ran away from the feelings of failure that churned in my soul.

It wasn’t until the next day that I flipped my Bible open to this passage, “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock” (Isaiah 26: 3,4). I picked up my pen and started writing…

Keeping my mind on You has been hard as I’m confronted daily with my shortcomings and failures with the kids. Again, ‘no.’ Again, a sharp word reprimanding. Again, guilt for not “seizing the moment” or ‘making the most of the Tuesdays of my life.’… Cast off the condemnation. Run from the Destroyer and run to Him. Freedom is at the foot of the throne. It’s not on the throne that I find my place of rest but in the posture of a servant seeking mercy from He who’s on the throne. Enter that Holy Hall of smallness and place yourself before He who frees. Frees our soul from the bondage of guilt, disappointment and our ‘not-enoughs.’ Cry out, ‘Jesus!’ as your feet (and soul) slip down the debilitating slope of condemnation. It was for freedom that Christ set us free.

Ahh… that’s good for the soul. Jumping back to Tuesday– I have to share the sweet, soft note that the day ended on. Dave was working and the baby was tucked in her crib for the night (and actually sleeping). I was ready to keep running and not lean into the last moments with my kids before bed, but thankfully my little guy called over to me from his box of trains. “Mama, ‘ome.” (“Mama, come”). Those words and the look on his face softened my heart and motivated me to leave the rag on the table and go sit with him. We built a great train track and soon his big sister was joining in sharing the two little trains we had. At the end of our train game, they joyfully helped me clean up the whole living room. Lexie even said, “Mama, what else can I do?” Wow. Thanks. Given the day we had, it was a real gift. I can’t say I’ve now mastered my anger and have stopped running. In fact, Thursday was worst than Tuesday. But I think it’s God’s answer to my prayer to not leave me like this. I want to taste greater freedom. And when I run,  I want to run a 5k and not run from the throne of grace.

This is our son when he was just a few days old. “I don't know what's more exhausting about parenting: the getting up early, or acting like you know what you're doing.” ― Jim Gaffigan, Dad Is Fat
From the archives: this photo is from when our son was just a few days old (2011)

“I don’t know what’s more exhausting about parenting: the getting up early, or acting like you know what you’re doing.”
― Jim Gaffigan, Dad Is Fat