Are you dyeing eggs this weekend? Do you hate dyeing eggs but desperately need a novelty for your kids on day 9872947 of rain? (If you don’t dye eggs, wait until Monday and pick some up at 50% off clearance. I’m planning on stocking up.)
Just use the old Easter egg dye, dump in 1/2 cup of white rice and let sit for however long you want. Strain and dry in the oven on the lowest temperature it will maintain for a few hours. Stir occasionally to prevent sticking.
As cool as it looks all on one pan, I’d suggest putting each color in individual pie pans to prevent the colors from bleeding into each other.
I plan on pulling out our jar of rainbow rice on the next rainy day and setting it out on the table in a big tub with cups and spoons for the kids to play with. Or, if I’m being realistic, I’ll put it in 2 separate tubs with exactly the same amount of rice, same color cups, and equal number of spoons.
Initially, I was so disappointed. Our kids and my friend’s kids were both on the tail end of different illnesses and we didn’t want to infect each other with a new round of the sicks. Aaron and I couldn’t go on the date we had been planning for weeks. I was grouching around the house when Aaron suggested we go on a family date. That didn’t appeal to me ONE BIT but since it got me out of cooking dinner, I agreed.
I stood in the bathroom, wearing heels, muttering about putting on makeup for running errands with the family. Ella came in and her little jaw dropped. “Mama,” she exclaimed. “This must be a real date! You’re wearing fancy shoes and putting on makeup!” Her grin threatened to split her face as she ran off to find her own shoes and coat.
That stopped my muttering.
It made Ella feel special to see me take the time and energy into our family adventure. It showed that I thought it was important enough to look my best. It showed I thought she was important.
So I quit muttering. I quit grumping. I put in earrings and we all had a wonderful evening on our family date.
Listen earnestly to anything your children want to tell you, no matter what.
If you don’t listen eagerly to the little stuff when they are little, they won’t tell you the big stuff when they are big, because to them all of it has always been big stuff.
– Catherine M. Wallace
That quote has been swirling through my head recently, working towards the surface of my consciousness just when I need it the most.When I’m tempted to say, “Just let me finish this chapter, Ella, then we can talk” or “I need to write an email first”, I remember that now is the time to lay a foundation of communication. A foundation of belief that I always care about and respect what she wants to share with me. The opportunity won’t always be here and the email can wait. The chapter will still be there when I get back to it. Even if it’s the millionth conversation about maned wolves, I still need to appear engaged. I can, on occasion, multi task my mind by responding to her while formulating my grocery list. Even then, I have to be careful to remain present in our conversation. Her life revolves around maned wolves, but it won’t always be so simple.
Someday, her life will revolve around things outside of our home, the life we share. She will build her own relationships, her own interests, her own set of worries and stresses that I have no control over or direct influence. Our conversations and what she shares with me will be my only window into her life. If I don’t take her 3 year old size cares, worries and triumphs seriously, how can I expect her to share with me her teenage cares, worries and triumphs?
For now, I’m putting aside books, knitting and emails in favor of foundations. It can be hard to listen and take her seriously right now, but it will be even harder to try and build this foundation when she’s twelve. So here’s to maned wolves, for they are the forerunner to open and genuine relationships later on.
I’ve got kids now, not babies.
A happy video to start your manic Monday.
I have fallen head over heels for this lovely yarn, Vero. It’s such a shame it’s been discontinued. The aran weight varies from thick to thin as the color variegates. My wrap is knitting up quickly and I foresee it blocking much wider than it’s knitting, but not so much in length. I’m excited! This is the first item I’ve ever knit for myself. 🙂
At this very moment, my entire HOUSE smells like Christmas. Or altoids. Or gingerbread. Take your pick. Whichever one you like best, know that I’m less than impressed with the situation.
Can you guess what happened not once, but twice in the past six weeks?
My beloved son discovered the most coveted industrial size bottle of ground cinnamon. He ate a good portion of it and then proceeded to dump the rest out and have a grand ol’ time with sensory play.
He’s in the bath right now, pouring water from one cup to the next, washing away the powdery scents of the holidays. I’ve added cinnamon to my shopping list (again).
And really, I can’t be mad at him. I was the one who didn’t put the cinnamon back where it belonged. Besides, the floor needed mopping to begin with.