(oops)

photo from regansbrain on Etsy

Life is good. But accidents happen, right?
They say bad things happen in three's, so our family should be in the clear for the next few days.
Luckily all of three of our incidents were minor, non-life-threatening, and kinda funny...

Mishap #1:  The delightful young Sophie dropped her bowl of chicken alphabet soup on the kitchen floor, shattering the bowl, splattering all 26 letters, a few peas and carrots, and tons of yellowy brothy liquid all over the floor. Moments like this, we call in our trusty outside dog to come in and take care of the situation.

Mishap #2: Our family was enjoying the most gorgeous evening in months, by taking a bike ride on our gravel country road. My husband, poor husband, trying to race the dog (I don't know) stood up on his pedal to gain extra speed... and his chain broke. He landed on his forearms, with the bike on top of him, and I saw the whole thing. He pushed his bike back home, chain in hand, blood dripping from his arms, and a defeated look on his face.

Mishap #3: A recent cool down in temps combined with back to school shopping is getting me jazzed for autumn. I started thinking beer cheese soup and decided to make some. There come a point in the recipe, after everything is all nice and hot, when you  have to put the soup in a blender (you know where this is going...) to puree the veggies. The recipe clearly states: "Just make sure you don’t fill it more than a third full at a time and cover it tightly so you don’t end up with a soupy mess." Well, on my final round of blending I became impatient, as I often do in the kitchen, and filled the blender too full. I turned the blender on, and the hot boiling cheese soup exploded all over my face. Owww. Rather than turning the blender off quickly, I screamed and ran, leaving the blender to continue to explode all over the counter top.

All messes were cleaned up, nobody got injured to the point of medical treatment, and we all got a few chuckles, and I'm ready for a new day.

JK + JB

Hence forth, today will be known as the day I let Justin Bieber into my heart.

I can't promise you he's gonna stay there long (my niece just briefed me on RUMORS that his girlfriend is toasting a bun. Oh garsh.). But he's in there for now, and we jam: me, JB, and Sophie. In the car mostly. I typically go for a cleaner type of music, like with instruments, no dance troop, less styling, less production. But I finally realized that me not liking the little bugger is just going to make my daughter love him more. Just a taste, I suppose, of what we will be dealing with when she's 16...or 15... or 14... or... excuse me, I think I just blacked out.
My big secret mission is to show her that I respect her opinions. I will no longer spit-up at the sound of his voice. I will sing along.

Tap, tap, tap, is this thing on?

The following is a speech given through my imaginary megaphone...

Is she making an impression on you? Does she have serious duds? Impossibly beautiful hair? Flawless face? A big fat car parked in front of a big fat house filled with big fat furniture, but not a smidge of fat anywhere else? OH! She must be so happy with all of that pretty stuff and all of that gorgeous perfection.

Well that's just gross.
Don't be impressed by the fance and schmance.
You want to know who makes an impression on me? The mom who giggles with her grown daughters.  The old lady jumping off the diving board. The grandma at lunch with her teenage grand kids. The wife of 50 years.
Be impressed by the life and love.

Wouldn't your days be just a little more meaningful if you spent your time showing off for your children instead of your neighbors?  Or maybe put your effort into making someone smile instead of making them jealous? Fall asleep at night being proud of the person you are, instead of the stuff you have.

Lesson #4 Less Thinking, More Dancing

Today I learned, thank you Utube, how to do a provisional cast-on. Doesn't that sound important? It's a knitting technique.

I watched several demonstrations before I found one that had no audio. I was able to just watch and learn. Then I started to get it, but my brain box was still overheating from too much thinking. So I watched another video with an instructor who kept repeating the words of the motions: Over under, under under, over under, under...  And I got into the rhythm. I started to think about how knitting is total muscle memory. The minute I start thinking about the technique, I end up in tangles. I realized it's probably a lot like ballroom dancing. I have been known to tune in to Dancing with the Stars (like you haven't), and I always hear the instructors telling the "stars" that they are thinking too much.  Almost instantly my own provisional cast-on words became One-Two-Cha Cha Cha.
No thinking, no tangles, just me and my needles. Dancing.

I CAN and I will.

Lesson #5: I will resort to the can opener a little more often.

Meal planning is without a doubt my least favorite Domestic Duty. I'm always searching for variety while trying to please the fam. I prefer to make from scratch, with fresh ingredients, but I also want it to be fast and easy. I hate to grocery shop. Wha wha, wha.
So after a weekend of Thanksgiving left-overs, no cooking, and no groceries, I asked my husband: "What would YOU like me to make for dinner?" I never ask, and he never complains.
He was quiet for a minute and then he requested
CHOW MEIN OUT OF THE CAN.
OK. I can do that.
So I hauled it to the store, shelled out- what- nine bucks, and purchased a lovely blue can of chow mein, a red box of quick rice, and two different kinds of crunchy noodles. Whole thing, top to bottom, was ready in 10 minutes.  We were both nodding while we ate. Nodding in approval of the meal's effortless/economical/nostalgic values. We ate it often when we were first shackin' up and we both grew up eating it, so it gave us both a little bit of the warm and fuzzies.
I felt like the world needed to know about this. How easy it can be.
But you already know this. And you practice this.  And I will too, a little more often.

Little Full, Lotta Sap

Lesson #4: Cutting your own Christmas Tree is fun!

Every year we talk about cutting our own tree. Then we see a cozy little tree lot and pull right in, pay the boy scout, load up and drive home. Once again this year, we talked about doing it- like for real- and images of Griswold's Christmas Past began to swirl through my head.

But this year we drove right past the boy scouts and headed out to the  old Brewery Hill Tree Farm.

After a brief chat with The One and Only Santa Claus, we grabbed a saw and headed out.

And there was nothing Griswold about it. 

Very similar to the "pick your own apples" experience. Fresh air, pretty scenery, and lots of  families taking pictures. After a while the trees all started to look the same, and then we found it.

And then we posed with it like it's an item up for bid on the Price is Right. 

 Our family Lumberjack cut it down for us.

Our family Cutie Pie supervised the situation. 

And we were off. The kind tree folks gave it a shake (to eliminate excess pine needles as well as critters-eeek!) We handed Santa our cash, and loaded that bad boy up (the tree, not the Santa).

 A fun family memory, and maybe a new Klehr family tradition.

Taming My Stinker

Lesson #3: You and your 5 year old will not make beautiful cookies but that is okay.

I have this nasty little stinker that lives inside of me that always wants the outcome of a project to be perfectly lovely and quaint. I just discovered that a wonderful way to tame that little bugger is to make sugar cookies with my little Sophie.

We always end up with weird, flat, misshapen wafers iced with unappetizing colors, and way too many sprinkles on the cookies...  and the floor. 

But it's fun. Nobody gets hurt. Sophie gets to call some shots. It requires some serious effort on my part not to let that nasty stinker out of its cage.
Instead of perfectly lovely and quaint cookies, we had a perfectly lovely and quaint afternoon.
 And hopefully she won't end up with her own nasty stinker someday.

Fall Back

Lesson #2 Children do not observe daylight savings time.

Ahh. Gone are days of  fall back meaning one extra hour of sleep.
The good ol' "Ma-om, come and get me u-up!" alarm clock doesn't care that it's technically 5:55 in the morning. I tried pushing the snooze button but this model doesn't have that feature.

So. Instead of more pillow time we get an extra hour of this sweet Sunday. French toast and turkey bacon. More time for coffee. An extra load of laundry. The dog gets fed earlier. We see the sun come up.

you learn something new everyday

So, in the words of my fancy five year old:
LET'S DO THIS THING FOR REAL.

I decided to blog, and I'm still half wondering why. But I did, and I am, so let's make a like one of those real life shmancy ones with regular entries and some sort of routine or theme. Something the reader (come out come out where ever you are?) can expect and be drawn back to. We've already established that I have no shortage of fluff, which will be fab, you can count on that.  But what can I share that we can both learn from? Learn...share... BING*

Each day, or let's be real- every few days I will share with you my most recent lesson. Because there is a lot of learning going on in this 29 year old life.

So, what did I learn today?


LESSON #1
If you want to go somewhere you have to leave the house.

If you want to sell your stuff on Etsy, you have to list it. And if you want people to see your stuff you have to share it. And if you want people to hear what you have to say you have to tell them.

As soon as you leave the house, deciding where you want to go gets easier. Discovering how to get there becomes clear. Follow the rules of the road, watch for signs, enjoy the ride, and you'll get to where you need to be.