Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Girls just wanna have fun.  Girls, and Raynes too.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun via grateful simplicity

Dinner and a movie


He looks mighty comfortable. Can you blame him?


Claire Ellen

How special it was to meet my God child, baby Claire Ellen, for the first time!


Her Daddy Jason, says we are not to call her by her double name, Claire Ellen. At least that’s what Mary Heather told Sarah Ball, who told Sara Britton, who told Allie Boone, who told me.


All the way here from Seattle, WA with her big (BIG) brother, Hanley. Who, make no mistake, is only two but looks and talks like a 4 year-old.  Which is no surprise really seeing that his Mom, and my long-time friend Mary Heather, scored something like a 1450 on the SAT. Overachiever. 


Claire Ellen via grateful simplicity

Claire Ellen via grateful simplicity


Claire Ellen via grateful simplicity

SAT prepping




Motherhood has agreed with Mary Heather who lives, to be exact, in Kirkland, WA just 20 minutes outside of Seattle, with no family other than her hubby and two babies. Kudos to any friend Mama that can live in a town without their Mama.

Claire Ellen via grateful simplicity


Every southern baby is properly introduced with a Sip N See it seems.... baby Claire is no exception.

Every southern baby is properly introduced with a Sip N See it seems…. baby Claire is no exception.

Claire Ellen via grateful simplicity


For someone that was quite the handful (or in my case– she bit a cheek-ful of me!) she has some sweet, sweet babies. One her funniest, said with a straight-mouth lines has been her response when Shea told her she has a sweet baby.  Mary Heather, in MH fashion says, “I know, I don’t deserve it.”


But I beg to differ. She most certainly does deserve it- MH has always, always been a good friend, daughter, grand daughter, and wife to those around her.

Claire Ellen via grateful simplicity

Claire Ellen via grateful simplicity

Now if only I can get her to move back to the South where she belongs.


With Valentine’s ’round the corner, I’ve been crossing my fingers that K doesn’t want a Pinteresty-type Valentine asking K what type of Valentine she wants to make this year. Make? That word alone tells me I’m headed down a slippery slope.



Raynes’ teacher has asked the parents to let the kids write their own names this year. Notice I have his name in parentheses. Just in case.



4 years ago today…

Wednesday night I looked around our house and saw not one thing Love/Heart/Pink/Valentine-y. No wreath, no nothin’. We’re anti-Valentines over here in the Robinson house. I pulled out my scrap fabric box, plugged in my hot glue gun, found my ‘good’ scissors (aka not that one’s I clip Poochie’s feet with… and perhaps my bangs too) and got to searching on the iPad.



Slightly home-made looking on its pathetic raffia ribbon, but a quick touch of love nonetheless.



Remember these Valentines (from 2011)?



Well, one of the fringe benefits of (returning to) a new school, is you can recycle Valentine’s themes (for more than 1 child)!


Prepping for 2015


Kenley Valentine 2015

Sunday morning it was all feet on deck as big sisters helped little brother with his valentines.


Our boys likes to craft– who knew?


This is the look I get after 697 times a day after asking “why Mommy?”





The school’s Father Daughter Dance was Friday night– while B has “aged out” by entering middle school, Kenley was able to claim her Daddy all to herself.


When I think about Kenley only has two more Daddy Daughter Lower School dances (then she will be too old) it sort of makes me catch my breath. How did this happen? When did this happen?And so thankful that while my children are growing each and every day, we still have a little guy that has 15+ years of school (and living at home) still to go.  For as much sarcasm and complaining I make, the truth of the matter is I can’t imagine our house without their mess, noise, fights and chaos.  Because then it would be just Mr. R and I sitting at home on Friday nights just looking at one another. And what are we suppose to do with that extra time? Start sewing again, go to a movie before it hits Red Box, or dabble in photography?  Now hold a second, suddenly that doesn’t seem so bad either.


Until then, you kids better grow slow for this too young to be this old Mama.

Around the House (and inside the camera)

It’s been over 5 years since I took my first photo crash course so today’s Momotography Class was long over due. Local friends, if you are looking for some easy-to-apply tips to improve your photos, I highly recommend Kira’s photography class.


Do as I say, not as I do. From what I’ve read ‘professional’ (or in my case a wanna-be) photographers typically shoot in Manual mode. Being an AV mode girl like I am, changing my shooting mode is pushing me out of my comfort zone and…. I’m liking it already!


Our class took out our cameras and took turns ‘shooting’ Kira’s sweet Dad.



Since I promised Britton the photos I took of her to “practice,”  following my class, wouldn’t end up on the blog… I reverted to household shots.  Like this new copper pot I scored at Tuesday Morning (this Saturday morning).  Thank you Mr. R for my valentines gift!


Manual mode— I made manual mode (insert Tom Hanks voice)



Perhaps I got the detail a little too well with this practice shot (or maybe I just need to vacuum again).





I love when Mr. R plans his outfit to coordinate with our throw pillows



Hello, shutter speed.



On any given day, you can find my girl taking time out from reading to sit at my desk.  Socks, and all.


Texture = black and white



B said no photos of her, but a quick practice shot of her dresser was approved.



This girl and I sleep snout to snout in my bed each night.  She nestles under my left shoulder and we fall asleep cheek to cheek.


As if a 3 hour photography class isn’t joy in and of itself, I also used a gift certificate to treat myself to a blow out. What a day, I tell you, what a day! Oh, and tonight was date night. American Sniper did not disappoint.



Mom Guilt

Tonight, as I scrape the plates of mostly uneaten fettuccine and green beans I prepared, I am consumed with Mom Guilt.


On any given day there is a multitude of reasons for Mom Guilt to set in.  Lost patience, poor role modeling, raised voices, the list goes on. Tonight I am feeling guilty for missing my daughter’s first tennis match.  It started at 3:30 (3:30!) about 10 minutes away from where I work. Which typically wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that I… well, have to work. Until 4.  Which is great, except when you have a child that has a game/match/whatever that starts at 3:30.


Rushing out the school door, with both the littles in tow, promptly at 4 pm determined to catch the end of the match, I’m feeling fairly confident with my packed snacks and drinks for the kids, quilts and gloves in case it’s chilly (Soccer season? Freezing!). Being the novice tennis mom that I am, I thought the game (is it called a game? Or a match? whatever.) wouldn’t be over until 4:45 giving me plenty of time to pull out my Canon, maybe take a video or two to send to Mr. Robinson.


But I was wrong.

While pulling out of the parking lot I received a text from B that simply read, “we lost. 4-0.”

I missed it. The whole thing. And while I’m enjoying my little pity party, to make matters worse I was the only parent not there. Well, me and Mr. Robinson that is. Absentee parents, unite!


Mom Guilt via grateful simplicity

Random-ness via grateful simplicity

My little Mom Guilt instigator extraordinaire.

Random-ness via grateful simplicity

yes, I’m talking ’bout you, K



While a quick trip to TJ Maxx to score a new tennis skirt and a stop at the gas station for an Icee may have soothed her hurt feelings, my Mom Guilt will continue to kick in for much longer.  Moms are gifted when it comes to guilt. It doesn’t take much for that Mom Guilt to find us and permeate our thoughts. Why is that?

Random-ness via grateful simplicity

Then there’s this guy, whose just happy I remembered to come back and get him at the end of the day.


In my defense, it wasn’t until last week that my sweet girl even decided she wanted to try tennis- but, trying telling that to my Mom Guilt.