.:Tradition Time:.

It’s that time again! Where we put back on our hiking boots and truck through those hilly muddy terranes.  Throwing discs.  And hearing that familiar clinking sound when our dics fly (hopefully gracefully) into the baskets. 

  
We just love playing discgolf.  Even if we only manage to get through 7 holes, because McKinley has to use the restroom and Cora is covered in mud.  It’s our family tradition. 

  
It was Coras first time being able to walk with us and carry a disc. I’m happy to report she shares our enthusiasm! 

  

   
Anyone else feeling like it’s already spring? I’ve brought up all my yellow pillows and spring decor from the basement.  Which is risky. Especially living in Ohio. Let’s get real–it might very well snow 5 inches tomorrow, but for now– getting muddy and soaking up the sunshine just feels right

~g

😘The Kiss Box 😘


Many parents work long hours through the week.  And as much as we don’t want to believe it–it’s just hard on our little critters.  They miss us. Constantly.  At least in our household McKinley misses her father day in and day out.

The book, The Kiss Box by Bonnie Verburg and Henry Cole is a great story that illustrates to children how as parents our love is just as strong even when we’re away.   And nowadays so many parents have to work outside the home.

The story helps initiate conversations about feelings, and in this case feelings of “missing.”   And, it  provides wonderful ways to send each other love, or in the book “kisses,” when being a part from one another.  In the story Mama Bear and Little Bear create “kiss boxes” as a way to send each other kisses when they were a part from each other.

McKinley and I decided we wanted to create our own kiss boxes, as a way to send each other love when we needed it.  This turned out to be a truly meaningful, engaging, and fun project– Naturally, I had to share.


Inside the boxes we put random things.  McKinley cut up fabrics and different textured paper as little sheets to represent love and kisses. I cut tiny hearts out of tissue paper.  When it comes to love the possibilities are endless.

~g

Happy New Year!

I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season! And I want to wish you all a safe and fun New Year!

Check back at last year’s fun memory jar project : Memory Jars

A few goals and resolutions for 2014:
*Publish Children’s Book
*More healthy recipes, milestones, and fun craft blog posts!
*Create new family traditions
*Strengthen my faith

What are a few of your goals or resolutions?

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Wordless Wednesday

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Snuggle time with my girls!

Upcoming Posts

•Blog award: Most Influential!
•And Traveling with a toddler
… I’ve been preparing all week… hence my absence from Monday Monologue

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Do you have a crazy family?

One word comes to mind during the holiday season.Family.

That’s what it’s all about right? Spending quality time catching up at get-togethers, eating delicious feasts, possibly playing games, and of course (if you’re like my mothers side of the family) drinking alcohol. Beer, wine, and liquor.

20131210-231941.jpgMy family is crazy. A good crazy, but still crazy. We’re all loud, stubborn, controlling know-it-alls. So, mostly Irish. In addition, we’re hysterical, fun, and phenomenal dancers. Crowd pleasers! Oh, and we occasionally make a scene (or two) by:

•Breaking glasses
•Belligerently saying inappropriate things
•Arguing a point to the point where we don’t even know what we’re arguing.
•Rolling our eyes, using classy sarcasm, and different voices to poke fun, or impersonate.
•Being extremely silly and acting like we’re still 13. Occasionally acting 7 at the age of 33.20131210-224019.jpg

Case and point. Don’t overlook Alison’s classic stain either.

•Talking loud and over other people.
•Being the “Life of the party.”
•Dramatic exists.
•Making our opinions and thoughts publicly known and “right.”
•And over exaggerating everything.

That’s just naming a few.
Totally fun.
Absolutely crazy.
Love every single one of them.

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This post is dedicated to my mothers side of the family and my cousin Allison. Oh, and before she gets the chance to tell you, or me (for the millionth time)—

I have a freckle on my lip.

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