Tag Archives: Mother’s Day

Cowboy Up!

May 6, 2016 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

Normally I like to do something with flowers in this issue, typically my own Mother’s day tradition of potting my flowers. This year I decided to take an old piece of furniture and give it a pop of color for spring.

I tend to shy away from bright colors, but I decided to step out of my comfort zone. Bright colors are popular in spring. I chose a chartreuse paint, which gives punch to any backdrop.

Sandy2

In this case it was a great little old shed that sits on a farm I drive past every day. It also happens to be the same spot where I had my youngest daughter’s senior pictures taken. I loved it then, and love it now.

I found some old cowboy boots in a thrift store, but I never wear them. They do, however, make a great place to plant flowers.

This really just requires a long weekend.

TIP: Unzip the boots, place on their sides and fill with dirt, then start to place plants and some ivy. Zip them up, and then stand them up. If you try stuffing them with dirt and then try to place the flower and ivy, it doesn’t work well.

Think of your entryway or porch as an extension of your house and have fun with it! 

Items Needed:
Wooden bench, or an old chair. If you can find a pair and put a little table in the middle that would also be a great look for a porch.
Sandpaper

Primer, if you are working over another color of paint

Paint. I used latex, and then sealed it.

Sealer

Boots of any type.

Colorful rain boots would look especially cute.

directions:
Make sure you aren’t going to use them again. Once you make that decision, drill holes in the bottom to allow the water to drain out.
If the boots have zippers, unzip them.

Place the boots on their sides, and fill them with dirt.

With the boots sideways, start placing plants and some ivy.

Zip them up if needed, then stand them up when they are finished.

Mom on the Rocks

Happy Mother’s Day to all the momma’s out there! I hope you get everything you wish for, or at least a slight moment of guilt-free peace, a handmade card, and breakfast in bed. I have my own Mother’s Day dream uninterrupted bathroom time.

I cannot sit on the throne of grand flushes without invariably being needed and interrupted. The next time I have any sense of not feeling needed, I’m simply going to go to the bathroom.

Am I alone in this desperation to have reasonable alone time?

There are only two things that my husband, Chris, does that bug me. He never answers the phone if it’s not for him. Caller ID really isn’t helping. And number two (no pun intended) he gets to use the facilities uninterrupted and for a long as he wants.

I’m jealous. I admit it.

Case in point. We’re all getting ready for school one morning when I realize I need to make a pit stop. I resolve that I should wait until the kids have left for school. My body suggests otherwise. I oblige said body’s request and go up to my own bathroom and shut my own door.

As soon as I sit, the phone rings. And it rings. We all know it’s the neighbor kid calling to see if Max and Lucy are walking to school. Lucy is in her room drying her hair. I have no clue where Max is. I yell to Chris – because I know he’s assessed the caller ID.

“Answer the phone, please!” I call out.

It continues to ring.

“I. Am. In. The. Bathroom! Please answer the phone!”

He shouts back up at me, “I couldn’t get to a phone in time, the one in front of me. It’s battery was dead.”

Meanwhile, Lucy has shut off her hair dryer, so it’s time to do a little delegating. “Lucy, call Jennifer. She just called. You need to call her back and tell her you’re walking to school.”

But now she can’t find a phone that is charged. Mind you, the child has bounded down the stairs right past her father, grabbed the uncharged phone, and then once she has realized the phone doesn’t work, what does she do? She bounds right back up the stairs to me in the bathroom to solve this mystery.

By then I was done with my business, but felt the need to just take a moment and reclaim my interrupted bathroom time.

“I. Am. In. The. Bathroom!”

“But the phone doesn’t work.”

“Do you think Daddy could help you with that!?”

“Oh. I guess so.”

And so be it.

It starts when they’re young when you don’t want to take your eyes off them for a single second. When you’re brave enough to shut the door, but their little fingers wiggle under it. “Mommy, are you in there?” Clearly, it’s my own fault. I’ve set this precedence and trained them well.

It’s good to be needed. It’s a Mother’s Day dream. 

iStock_000012566713Large-small

A Little Privacy, Please?

May 11, 2014 by

Happy Mother’s Day to all the momma’s out there! I hope you get everything you wish for, or at least a slight moment of guilt-free peace, a handmade card, and breakfast in bed. I have my own Mother’s Day dream— uninterrupted bathroom time.

I cannot sit on the throne of grand flushes without being needed. The next time I feel I’m not needed, I’m simply going to go to the bathroom.

I’m hoping I’m not alone in this desperation to have reasonable alone time.
There are only two things that my husband, Chris, does that bug me. He never answers the phone if it’s not for him (Caller ID really isn’t helping). And number two (no pun intended) he gets to use the facilities uninterrupted and for a long as he wants.

I’m jealous. I admit it.

Case in point. We’re all getting ready for school one morning when I realize I need to make a pit stop. I resolve that I should wait until the kids have left for school. My body suggests otherwise. I oblige said body’s request and go up to my own bathroom and shut my own door.

As soon as I sit, the phone rings. And it rings. We all know it’s the neighbor kid calling to see if Max and Lucy are walking to school. Lucy is in her room drying her hair. I have no clue where Max is. I yell to Chris because I know he’s assessed the caller ID.

“Answer the phone, please!” I call out.

It continues to ring.

“I. Am. In. The. Bathroom! Please answer the phone!”

He shouts back up at me, “I couldn’t get to a phone in time, the one in front of me. It’s battery was dead.”

Meanwhile, Lucy has shut off her hair dryer, so it’s time to do a little delegating. “Lucy, call Jennifer. She just called. You need to call her back and tell her you’re walking to school.”

But now she can’t find a phone that is charged. Mind you, the child has bounded down the stairs right past her father, grabbed the uncharged phone, and then once she has realized the phone doesn’t work, what does she do? She bounds right back up the stairs to me in the bathroom to solve this mystery.

By then I was done with my business, but felt the need to just take a moment and reclaim my interrupted bathroom time.

“I. Am. In. The. Bathroom!”

“But the phone doesn’t work.”

“Do you think Daddy could help you with that!?”

“Oh. I guess so.”

And so be it.

It starts when they’re young when you don’t want to take your eyes off them for a single second. When you’re brave enough to shut the door, their little fingers wiggle under it. “Mommy, are you in there?” Clearly, it’s my own fault. I’ve set this precedence and
trained them well.

It’s good to be needed. It’s a Mother’s Day dream.

iStock_000012566713Large-small