Why I Think Pinterest Is Good for Me

Posted on August 5, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

Yes, it’s just another social-media tool that has sucked me into its abyss. I’ve already told you why I love it. But seriously, I think Pinterest has definitely pushed me to do something! Yes, something. Lots of things.

Recipes I’ve had bookmarked for years? I’ve made them! Craft projects with Libbie? Not so daunting when I can see oodles of them and pick out the ones that look easy. Not to mention the delight of visual menu planning.

Here are some of the things I’ve actually done because of Pinterest:

I put all the books from my Want to Read It board on reserve at the library instead of on my Amazon wish list or Paperbackswap Wishlist. Because really, I just want to read them. Not own them. In the last few weeks I’ve read Sisterhood Everlasting, am most of the way through The Kitchen House, and have Shanghai Girls to pick up next!

Sisterhood Everlasting: A Novel (The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants)

Libbie really loved these homemade bath paints; she’s played with her cardboard-box town quite a bit; and she totally stamped with the end of the bok choy the other night when I noticed it looked a lot like this celery-flower stamp!

Source: dollarstorecrafts.com via Vanderbilt Wife on Pinterest

And as for the recipes? Here are some I’ve made because the pictures are just so tempting!

Source: sweetpeaskitchen.com via Vanderbilt Wife on Pinterest

Source: annies-eats.net via Vanderbilt Wife on Pinterest

Source: tastykitchen.com via Vanderbilt Wife on Pinterest

Of course, Pinterest is a time-sucking abyss if you let it be, just like anything else. But for me, I say the benefits outweigh the bad parts, at least for the time being.
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Why I Treaure a Muffin Tin

Posted on July 15, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

I wish I had asked her the story behind it.

It’s a beautiful, six-cup muffin tin, stamped with “Muffinaire.” The company’s name is United Aircraft, Dayton, Ohio, which is where she lived out her adult life.

Libbie and I have been making a lot of muffins lately, and I feel that in my subconscious it might be just so I can pull out the Muffinaire tin and feel connected to her, the first Libby.

It always comes clean perfectly—the advantage to using something that old. You know if it’s still clean after so many years, it’s been seasoned. It will always be shiny and just right. The muffins will be perfect.

That Libby, my grandmother, died on June 29.

She’s been in the process of dying for years, since diverticulitis ripped her insides and left her a shell. Sometimes she was full, a pearl still there … sometimes cracked open and insides ripped out, lost inside fuzzy memories.

I am thankful, in a way, for the end of her suffering. But guilty and pained that she never met my son, only her second great-grandchild. Guilty that I didn’t call her more, because her not-quite-there memory made me cry, because she wasn’t sure that I was I and not my sister, her sister, a stranger.

I’ll remember her in the mountains, bright smiles as the cool air whips. At the beach; in Chincoteague with the ponies. Clinking 50th anniversary mugs with my grandfather.

She was a beauty, a saint, a reader, a writer, the namesake for my precious daughter.

And I keep making muffins, holding onto her for a last hug I did not get.

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This took me slightly longer than 5 minutes, but The Gypsy Mama’s 5-Minute Friday was what prompted me to stop staring at the screen and actually write this, without editing.

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Why I Took a Blogging Break … And What I Learned

Posted on July 8, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

Gratuitous Adorable Baby Picture

I was sure that my house would be cleaner if I stopped writing my blog. I was wrong.

A while ago, I had reached a point where I was dreading coming up with something to write here. For me, that is when I know I need a break. I look back at times when my writing flowed so freely and am jealous – of myself!

I am such an internal processor, and I think that is what makes me a writer. It takes me time to work out my thoughts and balance emotions with sane thought. Often I am just writing my heart here, figuring out things for myself and hoping to send across the message that Christian women don’t have to be perfect. We’re not. None of us. Some just hide it better than others.

It seems I am alternately overflowing with words and dry as a desert. Sometimes I look at prompts or carnivals and try to get inspired. But my number one rule is not to force myself to write. I don’t believe force creates authentic, good prose.

My break was good and bad. It was good to not feel like I needed to be on the computer nonstop. It was good to spend more time at night with my husband.

I quickly discovered, however, that the blog is not my main time suck. It’s a combination of obsessive e-mail checking, Facebook, and Twitter. Of walking by the computer and thinking I’ll just check my e-mail and instead spending time clicking through various things and spending 20 minutes online while my children run amuck.

Toward the end of June, the blog break combined with a vacation started to result in less time on Twitter, Skype, and other various sites. I enjoyed the feeling of freedom. I am still living there.

But did not blogging make me a better wife, mother, or housekeeper? Not really. So I have to face the fact it’s other distractions that keep me from excelling in those roles. It’s something I don’t like to face, but I certainly need to.

For now, I’m glad to be back. I have a lot to write about, including a series on doing Disney with a toddler and baby, how I ran a 5k, and hopefully about successful and quick potty training (we’re in day 2 of potty boot camp!). Hope you’ll stick around here with me as we live life imperfectly.

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Why I Want You to Help a Fellow Mommy Blogger

Posted on May 27, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine, Kelly. She blogs at miskellany. Many of you may know what a small world blogging creates. Kelly and I went to high school together in Richmond, Virginia. Now she lives in Mississippi and I live in Tennessee. We haven’t seen each other since high school graduation, but we keep in touch … because we reconnected through our blogs.

A few weeks ago, Kelly was your everyday mommy blogger: a frugal, vegetarian, natural and green living, PhD student, living in Mississippi with her husband and almost two-year-old son, Simon. When her vision started blurring, Kelly thought she needed some more sleep and less time at the library staring at a computer screen.

As her vision worsened, however, Kelly underwent medical tests and found out she has a rare type of brain tumor sitting on her optic nerve. She will travel to Johns Hopkins next week for consultation and surgery. In the best case scenario, Kelly will be in the hospital for five days and recovering nearby for two weeks. If the surgery is less successful, Kelly will lose her eyesight. She would need to stay in Baltimore at least a month to go to rehab and learn to live as a blind woman.

Kelly is 29 years old and has a toddler. She could be me. I can’t even imagine what she is going through right now.

The Plan

A group of us want to help Kelly have the most comfortable hospital stay and recovery possible. We’re asking if you would consider donating just $3 by clicking on the “donate” button. The money will be used to fulfill Kelly’s wish of having some wonderful, new, comfy pajamas for her time in Baltimore. We’re hoping to have enough to throw in a gift card to Trader Joe’s, so her husband can buy some prepared foods for their family that fit with their dietary preferences.

Will you help by pitching in $3? We’ll let you know on Monday how much has been raised!

I also wanted to gather a few sellers of homemade items who would donate store credit to Kelly. She is a huge fan of Etsy and homemade and upcycled items. I want to thank Moxie Mandie and Candace from Twiggie Makes for donating to that project. If you sell handmade items and would like to donate store credit, you can e-mail me: jessie at vanderbiltwife dot com.

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Why I Studied Chinese

Posted on May 19, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

source

You should see the look on people’s faces when I tell them I took seven years of Chinese, studied abroad in China, and was a Chinese minor. Obviously that’s not what you expect to hear from someone who spends most of her time changing two kids’ dirty diapers and wiping spit-up off her shirt.

It’s not something I bring up a lot, because I am afraid someone might force me to try to speak Chinese. After seven years of not using the language, I’m afraid my level is right up there with Ni Hao Kai Lan – if not lower. Mostly I only divulge my studies if I am talking about travel with someone. It makes me feel pretty cool (something I am not) to say, “Oh, well, I’ve been to China, Thailand, Brazil, and Taiwan.”

(Strangely, I’ve never been to New England, although that will be remedied this summer! I’ve also never been farther West in the US than Montana, unless you count airports.)

So why did I take Chinese? It was simple: I was scared of confusion.

I went to a magnet school for government and international studies for high school, and we had to have a total of six years of language studies for graduation—at least four years of one language and at least two years of another. I started French in eighth grade, and that was my four-year language. I was worried if I picked another Latin-based language I would confuse the two.

That left me Russian, Japanese, Chinese, and sign language as choices. I probably would have picked Japanese, except the teacher was also the woman who taught Chinese and was from China herself. Supposedly her Japanese class consisted mostly of, “Now the Chinese created this and then the Japanese stole it!”

Although my Chinese teacher in high-school was a little bit of a nut job, she introduced the Chinese culture to me in a way I found fascinating. We visited Chinese grocery stores, sang children’s songs, made sushi, and learned characters with flourish. The lei I wore around my neck on graduation day was LaoShi’s contribution to making sure the whole school knew Chinese students were different and special.

Three years of high-school Chinese allowed me to skip … the first semester of college Chinese I. Yes, ONE semester. But in the next three-and-a-half years, I grew to love the crazy people in my class. I went to China for six weeks to study the language (and shop … and learn how to berate taxi drivers in Chinese).

No, I haven’t used it since I graduated. But I still feel like God put a love for all things China in my heart for a reason. Like many things in life, I will just wait and see how it works itself out.

So for now: zaijian, pengyoumen.

Tiananmen Square entrance to the Forbidden City.

source

[Other possible answers to why I studied Chinese include: Lottie Moon, I really like Chinese take-out food, and I wanted to marry an Asian guy and have cute Asian babies.]
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Why I Don’t Think We Are Done Having Kids

Posted on May 13, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

I mean, seriously. I think Mr. V and I should be selling embryos our kids are so darn cute. (JUST KIDDING.)

But really … we’ve always talked about trying to have four kids. And since just a few days after David’s (PAINFUL) birth, I’ve been pretty sure I’m not done wanting to have babies, no matter how much pregnancy disagrees with me. I would like to wait a little while …. famous last words, right?

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Why I Think Everyone Should Read Heaven Is for Real

Posted on May 6, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

My prayer life has always been lacking.

I have an imagination that runs wild. (And, as a side note, has definitely been passed on to my daughter. The other day she put socks on her hands and insisted they were for building a snowman. Which we did. In the living room. Out of air.) I could never count sheep because I start picturing them doing funny things, like trying to get under the fence or performing pirouettes.

I have a difficult time getting to sleep because I can’t get my brain to shut down. And when I pray, I feel unable to focus, to just stay praying. My mind gallops off and all of a sudden I’m making a grocery list and trying to remember if we need pasta and trying to picture what Libbie might look like in a few years.

When I visited my parents in March, my mom urged me to read Heaven Is for Real on her Nook. And, in a matter of hours I spent absorbed in that little screen, I did.

If you haven’t heard of this New York Times bestseller (still #1 in nonfiction, and it came out in November), it is the true story of a 3-year-old boy who went to heaven during a very serious illness and time in the hospital.

I completely believe that it is true. First, everything is backed with biblical quotations. Second, the child knew things he couldn’t know. Third, even a 3-year-old couldn’t make up this stuff.

The writing is not elegant and it can be a bit scattered, but the pieces of what the author, Todd Burpo, relays are heart-wrenching and make me thirst for heaven.

Reading Heaven Is for Real has changed my prayer life. I think it’s because I have a portrait of heaven drawn by a 3-year-old: one my tiny brain can take in. I can imagine myself sitting in a little chair next to Jesus, talking about the people I know, the things I care about, my woes and joys. Where I would plead with Him to “shoot His power down” (terminology from the child).

Jesus is real. Heaven is real. If you need a little reinforcement of those matters, I think reading this book might be eye-opening for you. Even if you don’t, I think it’s an awesome reminder that Jesus cares for us, for every aspect of our lives. He has prepared a place for us that is awe-inspiring.

I know these are muddled words, but I can’t quite describe the why. I just hope you’ll take my urging and get Heaven Is for Real into your hands as quickly as possible. Then come tell me what you thoughts about it! You can always e-mail me (jessie at vanderbiltwife dot com) if you want to chat about books – or just about anything.

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Sharing this post as my Sunday Best at Feels Like Home.
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Why I……. am not posting today

Posted on April 29, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

This is Jill from The Diaper Diaries (why yes I DID just link to my own blog. I am shameless that way). Jessie is without power for the foreseeable future and so there will be no Why I…. post today. Hopefully she will be back soon! We miss you Jessie

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Why I Don’t Want to Cook Dinner Anymore

Posted on April 21, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

If you’re visiting from a search engine and need some simple recipes because you really don’t want to cook, may I suggest the following?

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It seems that over the last few weeks, I’ve lost my knack for cooking.

Everything burns: fried rice, chicken, bread, vegetables. Scrambled eggs have too much milk. Pancakes cannot be flipped correctly. Breads don’t rise. Potatoes don’t brown. I forget to make side dishes. Recipes that sound delicious flop. I set the smoke detector off 5 days out of 7. I wish I were joking.

Something that was once a joy has become worse than a chore; it’s a feeling of letting down my family each and every night. It’s embarrassment over that beeping noise again and smoke filling the kitchen again.

I consider myself a decent cook, or at least one who can usually look at a recipe and decipher whether or not it will be good. It’s so disheartening to bring fork to mouth and taste disappointment once more.

Perhaps it’s something to point me back to my beginnings as a cook, or maybe just a sign that we should be eating more raw foods. I now know what my friends mean when they say they can’t make pasta without burning it. And I don’t like it one bit.

One more cooking disaster and I’m afraid our menu plan will be ramen noodles, every night.

At least that would be cheap.

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I’m planning to spend this weekend off the computer and concentrating instead on the holy sacrifice of Jesus. Have a wonderful Easter weekend.

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Why I Am Glad I Don’t Have a Smart Phone

Posted on April 14, 2011 by vanderbiltwife

It’s a brisk Friday, a true Spring day after being in the 70s early in the week. Libbie has a pink nose and a grin as she scampers from one place to another in the old playground.

It’s so chilly there are only a few others populating the spacious area: a man and woman with a girl-child and a boy-child, and a set of five children I soon determine are a yours-mine-and-ours family.

My time is spent strolling-pushing and placing Libbie on various objects she finds interesting: an old-fashioned pony on a spring, a seesaw, every swing she can find.

The two-child family is also roaming the park. Dad’s eyes are relentlessly focused on his iPhone, even while threatening the kids, “If you do that again, we are leaving!”

They don’t leave.

I’m no parenting expert, but there is one thing I always do: follow through on my threats. Sometimes, it stinks. Recently I had to sweep up a dustpan of Crayolas because that is what I told Libbie I would do if she didn’t pick them up.

It’s the way we learn consequences.

But distraction makes it umpteen times harder to follow through. When I am blogging, nursing the baby, folding laundry, watching a favorite show on TV, just having a good conversation on Twitter … those are the times I really don’t want to get up and put Libbie in time-out (which often requires physically removing her from where she’s thrown herself on the floor).

Watching that family made me remember why I should be grateful I don’t have a smartphone.

I know myself. Too often during the day I am drawn to the computer to “just” check my e-mail, which turns into a 20-minute distraction. To have that availability constantly would be too much for me.

Two of the yours-mine-ours kids are enamored with Libbie. They show her a swing and then ask me to push them on the swings. They are gleeful as I agree. After a few pushes, I suggest they push each other, and they look at me like the thought had never occurred to them. As Libbie continues to run wild, I watch them do that very thing, big smiles on their faces.

I’m glad I didn’t miss that moment.

I hope you don’t take this as “everyone with a smartphone is a bad parent.” SOOO not what I am saying. I just know my problem with obsessions and Internet addiction and I don’t think it would be a healthy choice for me.

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