A Gold Medal Mom

I, along with the rest of the world, am completely taken with Michael Phelps. Not because of the eight gold medals, the billions of dollars in endorsements, or even the muscles...I am taken with him because he loves his mom. And he's not afraid to tell the world that he loves his mom and she returns in kind here.

As a mother of two boys, I treasure that relationship and I think Debbie Phelps has a great philosophy -

But when asked how she resisted the urge to be a stage parent, Debbie said, “I wasn’t a pusher. I just always let the coaches do their jobs. My job was to be Michael’s mom.”

We don't have to hover and control every aspect of our kid's lives. We need to pray for them like crazy and be there for the good times and the bad. It is easy to get out of balance in this area and try to get our child into the limelight or push them beyond what is reasonable. Let's let coaches coach, let God be God, and take our place as moms...praying, loving, supporting, cooking, driving, hugging, tucking in and cheering on.

You might be a Seamstress...

Last night Buford and I were watching a show that featured the funniest commercials aired during the Olympics. In between commercials we were discussing a certain convention that is taking place in a certain city very near our town. (Buford actually took this week off of work so he could avoid it - he is a very discerning man!)

Anyway, I had to stop and interrupt our deep political conversation to comment on the host's dress on the TV:

"I'm sorry to interrupt you honey, but do you see that dress? It looks like someone cut holes in a white pillowcase and stuck it over her torso - and too small of holes at that, because do you see those puckers around her armpits - that means the armholes are too small. And it looks like someone shaved down a black poodle and then glued the trimmings to her collar. I bet they paid over $500 bucks for that dress! That's horrible!"

Never mind about the potentially disastrous presidential election, poorly fitting clothes on television hosts should truly be on some one's agenda!

My New Website

If you have a small business and have never been to VistaPrint.com, you are missing out. It is an easy to navigate website where you can design your own business cards and other promotional material. They have websites available for less than $5.00/month.

I've been working on a website for Cinde Exclusives this week and I hope you'll visit it and then give me suggestions on how I might improve. Dress designer, yes...website designer, no. It's simple and basic but I think being on the internet is crucial for customers being able to find me.

Click here to take a look: http://sewingbycinde.vpweb.com/default.html and let me know what you think!

Collaborate

Collaborate: To work together, especially in a joint intellectual effort.

Each summer (for the past several) my niece and I have collaborated on her 4-H clothing projects. I'm happy to help, especially when I think of the hundreds of hours that my Auntie M. spent helping me with my projects.

Twinkletoes (my niece) is more of an artist than a seamstress, so she enters a division called "artistic clothing". Here is how our collaborative efforts work: (like how I can use different forms of the word collaborate - just to tie in with the title?)

1. Twinkletoes chooses a pattern and buys some plain white silk.

2. I cut out the pattern using her appropriate measurements and then send the pieces back to her.

3. She uses her special artistic magic, some dyes and some resist to create all kinds of unique designs on the fabric.

4. Twinkletoes sends the now colorful pieces back to me and I stitch them together to create her masterpiece.

Here is a photo of this year's creation:

Grand Champion, Artistic Clothing division.

I love it when a joint intellectual effort comes together!

Veggies of Glory

Now Buford, even though he is a pork rind munching type of guy, will eat his veggies every night. Tonight I concocted a mixture of zucchini, corn and onions to go alongside our pork chops. When Min asked what it was, Buford dubbed it "Veggies of Glory." Dang, he must of liked them. I was just trying to think up some new way to use all the zucchini that is filling up my crisper drawers!

So if your garden is prolific in zucchini or if you haven't had any veggies worthy of the term glory lately, here is the recipe:

Veggies of Glory
1 T. olive oil
1 large or 2 small zucchini, diced
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 cup frozen or fresh cut-off the cob sweet corn
Heat olive oil in a large skillet. Add zucchini and onion, saute until they begin to get tender. Add corn and continue sauteing until corn is crisp tender (about 5 minutes). Add salt and fresh ground pepper to taste.

Happy Birthday to My Pesky Little Brother

Other than Buford and me, I'm not sure two people could be more opposite than my little brother and I were growing up. (Maybe God was preparing me?)

He liked to be outside, preferably on a tractor or taking one apart and reassembling it.
I preferred to be inside, reading a book or sewing something.

He liked the egg white.
I liked the egg yolk. (Nice for Mom, she only had to cook one egg!)

He liked playing farm.
I liked playing Barbies. (Sometimes my Barbies would live on the farm - you learn to compromise.)

He liked Dr. Pepper.
I detested the stuff and preferred Pepsi. (still do)

He was always making me "late" to school (ie: getting there a minute before the bell rang.)
I always tried to be early to school so I could socialize (usually with a boy.)

He liked to procrastinate and mess around before getting our chores done.
I liked to get our chores done first and then play.

He liked Chocolate Ice Cream.
I liked Vanilla Ice Cream...or any flavor other than chocolate.

His bedroom was in the basement.
Mine was upstairs.
(Until baby sister & the fire came along - now neither one of us has a bedroom at Mom & Dad's.)

These days, we have a few more things in common...we're both parents of teenagers and we both love Jesus. (Think those two need to go hand in hand - help us Lord!) We agree that Qdoba rocks and that ColdStone is the best ice cream on the planet.

AND AS OF TODAY, WE ARE BOTH OVER 40!!


You are officially old - join the club!

Happy Birthday, pesky little brother!