Favors a Challenge

The blog challenge, a contest to blog each day for the month of February, comes to a close tonight.  My capacity to accomplish work never ceases to amaze me, and I'm grateful for the push of the blog challenge to build my capacity of what I can achieve in the realm of blogging.

We had a wonderful party at Sky Zone today, with many, many children; 47.  Thirty families, celebrating 7 years with our Naomi.  Several bubbles of our community came together: school friends, work friends, church friends, neighbor friends.  My sister and brother-in-law even came down with my nieces.   Nora is one of those brilliants who can pull creativity out of thin air, move an army, and whip party favors into shape.  She can do many more things, and is an amazing mother, to boot. 

 

So, as my final post for the blog challenge, here is the poem that Nora and I wrote, with help from  the peanut gallery (our husbands).  The poem accompanied the favors for the party (which were clearly disjointed until Nora's intervention and plenty of laughs this morning). 

Naomi really wanted to give every kid a sewing kit.  In my effort to not crush her vision, the family basket was an eclectic mix: sewing kit, spatula, whisk, notepad, pencil, eraser, adorable basket with balloon (to simulate a hot air balloon, since the party was at Sky Zone), and this poem.


Bon Voyage, February!

Comments

  1. UnknownMarch 1, 2015 at 10:22 AM

    AGAIN~!! YOU ARE AMAZING, JO! I LOVE YOU

    ReplyDelete
  2. UnknownMarch 3, 2015 at 7:03 AM

    I must confess, I'm sorry you won't be writing EVERY day~😔

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Black Clouds and Pandemics

Being on-call is like a pandemic in our house.  There is a heated moment when you get to the middle or near-end of a strategy game, especially a game we have, which is actually called Pandemic.  In this game, the world is simulated as having a pandemic outbreak of a disease, and the players are the health team trying to stop the pandemic and find cures.  We don't have an outbreak of disease in our actual household, thank goodness, we have an outbreak of the beeper going off throughout the night when Mike is on-call. Call days are clearly marked on our calendar.  "CALL" is exactly what I write on the top of each day Mike is on call; I dread it, he dreads it.  But it is a day set aside, part of the gig, and patients do not wait until the glossy hours of 9-5 to get sick, so someone has to be available.  We both know this full well, but this does not go without taking a toll on the household. As a wife, it is almost impossible to relax until the call has b...
Read more

Bleach

Image
I had some mysterious stains on a few bibs and dish towels. The first bib where I found these mysterious stains, I put straight bleach on, and then let it sit until I was ready to do a white load, and the bleach proceeded to eat holes in the fabric. Luckily, the lettering stayed in tact to say, "my daddy's a cardiologist." But now I feel bad every time I put the bib on David, because it has holes in it. I can't bring myself to throw it out, unless maybe I replace it one day. If we wear it out of the house now, it might as well say, "my daddy's a cardiologist and my mommy can't wash my laundry." Let's not do that again. So I tried again with some more bibs and dishtowels. I put them in a bucket of water, with some bleach added. (The stains were not that mysterious, they were moldy stains.) Grown from neglect and moisture, buried in either a bag, the bottom of the stroller, the car, or the bottom of a hamper. My first bib goes into the...
Read more

Checking Pockets

While sorting through fresh pile laundry, I noticed a little midnight blue splotch here and there.  As I pull up more and more clothes to fold, there is not just a little splotch here and there, but streaks, huge splotches, whole white toddler collars turned to a tie-died blue-fest.  My C Wonder shirt that I wear weekly no longer has crisp thin navy lines over white, but blue and white meddled together as if to portray an overcast day's sky.  Now, rather than pulling for clothes to fold, I'm digging for the culprit while I intermittently spew out questions.  "Was there anything in your pocket from school this week? Did you happen to stick a crayon in your pocket?  Or one of those gel writers? Do you remember putting anything in your pocket? What could this be?"  The response is a stream of "no. no. no." Then, as if clarity hit, "Mommy, maybe a long, long time ago someone had something in their pocket and you forgot to check the pocket and then you wa...
Read more