last-minute father’s day card: your street on a Monopoly property card

design, paper arts

It’s been a crazy week here on Carpenter Avenue. Although we adore our 1914 Craftsman Bungalow, we started day-dreaming a week ago about moving to the northern part of our village so our daughter would be able to walk to both the middle school and high school. I casually started looking last weekend and happened upon a 1931 English Style brick house in the Frank Lloyd Wright Historic District of Oak Park. It had just landed in foreclosure and is listed at about half the price it was eight years ago. In other words, it was affordable to us. It is a “not-so-big” house but also one that has a separate entrance for FunQuilts and would have more studio space that we currently have. Amid other deadlines and commitments, we spent a lot of the week trying to figure out how financing would work and if our contractor was up to the renovation. He was. Were we up for another renovation? Long story short, we put in a bid. And we waited. And we waited. And we’re still waiting. Our real estate agent says that there are now four bids and we don’t have deep enough pockets to win a bidding war so odds are, it’s not going to be the new world headquarters of FunQuilts. But it was an interesting adventure just trying it all on.

So when I started thinking about a card to make for Bill for Father’s Day, the game Monopoly came to mind. A wonderfully clever man named Brad Frost has developed a little Photoshop download where you can make your own Monopoly property card. How cool is that? On the inside I wrote: “Regardless of the property you own, you the greatest daddy ever.” I printed it out as a card on cardstock and made a quick envelope for it out of bond. Truly, I’d live in a mud hut with this guy.

homemade adoption announcements

design, experiences, family, paper arts

May 30 is Gotcha Day in our family. Nine years ago, we held our daughter for the first time (thus the term “Gotcha Day” in the adoption community) and we became a family. Like most adoptive moms, I had always expected to have children the way most people do. There’s a pregnancy that lasts 40 weeks, there are maternity clothes, swollen ankles and aching backs and due dates and birth announcements with a picture of a tiny pink infant. There’s a layette and most importantly of all, there’s the anticipation.

When it’s clear that none of those things is going to happen the way that you thought they would you then have to figure out new ways to do things. It’s not easy because there is no timeline and there is no visible sign that you’re “expecting.” You wait and you wait and you have no idea if it’s actually ever going to happen. If you are like me, there will be a day, a single day, in which no fewer than three, count ’em, three unrelated women say to you, “Wow! We just found out that I’m pregnant and we weren’t even trying!” If someone had been able to ask meĀ  regarding our “pregnancy,” “how far along are you?” the answer would have been, “Oh, about five years…” The process is different and foreign to most people.

So when that glorious day came and we finally did have this beautiful 10-month-old baby whom I would not have loved any more had I given birth to her, we wanted to share not just the news, but also the journey. In fact, we had to because someone else had shared their journey with us, without even knowing it. We had pursued domestic adoption unsuccessfully for several years and then one day we went to a new church and the priest called a couple up to the altar. He offered them a blessing as they were leaving that day to go meet their new daughter in China. Bill and I looked at each other and said, “We could do that.” It was happening for them. It could happen for us. Two years later, we had a baby. By the way, we’re still friends with that family.

So we really wanted to have an adoption announcement that showed people the best part of our adoption journey. We thought that an accordion announcement would tell the story of some of the special moments we wanted to remember.

We decided to show people the referral that we found so charming. The foster mom checked the boxes indicating that our daughter had a ready smile, liked to play games and was active. She did not check the box that said “Obstinate sometimes.” Thank Goodness, I remember thinking.

We also wanted to share that unforgettable moment of holding her for the first time and walking into the room where our daughter would receive her US citizenship.

We had a “chop” made for her with her Chinese name (Mudan – Tree Peony) on it that we used as well. It wasn’t just about telling people that we had finally gotten a baby, making the announcement helped us actually process all that we had been through.

We printed out the pictures ourselves on cardstock and scored the strips so they would fold into an accordion. We attached two accordions together for the actual announcement. We placed the accordions in envelopes and mailed. The original announcement is framed now and hangs in our family room. I still love it.

The advice I always give people when they say that they are considering adoption is to figure out how to customize their “pregnancy” to their circumstances. As women most of us grow up looking forward to experiencing a pregnancy, even with all of its discomfort, mysteries and uncertainties. “Figure out how to have a pregnancy, in whatever way that would be meaningful to you,” I always say. Then share your story because the next couple who has just lost their dream of a pregnancy needs you to help them through it.

The wisdom in this philosophy became clear a few years later when I ran into our accountant at the gym. He told me that he and his wife had decided to adopt. “I’ve watched how happy your family has become since you adopted Sophie and it gave us strength to try,” he said. They adopted a boy and are now waiting for another child to join their family. Trust me. That announcement. It’s way more than a piece of paper.

last-minute valentine

design, fabric, family, general crafts, paper arts

My heart is always there but sometimes the hands of the clock move faster than my own in getting Valentines made. So at some point after the dishes are done and the bedtime hugs have been given I hungrily claim a moment to make a Valentine that’s long on thought but short on time.

I saw in the current issue of Martha Stewart several envelopes that had been adhered to one another to make an accordion folder in which one could include tickets or gift cards. As the mom of a 9-year-old girl, I’ve decided that the real gift is often the real-life Hall Pass. It’s the gift of being given a break, which we grown-ups can sometimes forget that children need as much as we do.

So I licked 5 envelopes and stuck them together in an accordion a la Martha but I stuck a different kind of gift card in them–the one that gets you out of a chore every now and then. On the envelopes are the words “Would you like a break today?” She’ll be able to turn in one card for the night when she just doesn’t want to have to set the table for dinner and another for the morning that she wants to leave her bed a mess (yes, we know that we are the only parents in the US other than the Obamas apparently who make their children make their beds every day). On another day she won’t just get the apple slices and almonds for her after-school snack, there will be an all-out, over-the-top, not-so-healthy snack because sometimes it’s great to have a banana split instead. And I know our daughter well enough to know that part of the gift is knowing that she has all of these cards at her disposal and can decide when she wants to use them.

As for Bill, he will have to settle for more feeble words that can’t possibly describe how much I love him.