Homemade Kids Paint ~ Easy Peasy Recipe

Happy new year from the K’s

We are finally settling back home annod it’s so good to find a new routine.

To kick start our year we made homemade paint. I was a bit skeptical about it but, I am trying to say more YES’s to my little ones and open to trying out new things.

Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.~

Pablo Picasso

Miss K and Ky love to paint, sometimes Ky wants to taste the paint, I think the red reminds of her ripe tomatoes, who knows? We can all agree that the pigmentation in store bought paint is quite strong.

3 ingredient home made paint recipe

1 cup of Water
1/2 cup of Flour
Food colour

Method

We mixed the water and flour until it was smooth (it still had a few lumps which you can see in the paintings). Then we divided the white paint (ha! More like pancake batter minus the eggs) in to five containers and then we added the food colour. We used powder food colour, and I took a little shortcut, against my better judgement, and added it without mixing it with water. The green was not very forgiving. It reminded me of a speckled frog ūüźł.

And then we painted.

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I can attest to the fact that art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. Picasso was right, he knew that art is therapeutic.

Yesterday the song that played in my mind as I painted is ‘Cycles ‘ by Jonathan McReynolds, it explains the circular motions. I enjoyed painting with the girlies, I’ll definitely be accepting more painting invitations.

The pros and cons of homemade paint :

The pros
-it is cheap to make
-it is toxin free and you shouldn’t worry too much if your little one eats it
-it is fun to make, the children can enjoy the process of making it and mixing colours
-it takes a short time to make
-it washes of easier than store bought paint

The cons
-it doesn’t keep long so you’d have to make small batches regularly
-this recipe’s paint isn’t as glossy as regular store bought paint does

I’ll definitely make another batch soon and try out other recipes.

Happy painting ūüé®

Angels

If you had an angel following you around every day, what do you imagine they would wear? Would they have themes each day, you know, throw in a 17th-century outfit every other Thursday or some shades of blue on Mondays?

Sunday is my most rewarding and draining days, in equal measure. I teach the little children, children below three years old. Sometimes it is a walk in the park, other times it is like trying to conduct a choir whose members are in different time zones.

Yesterday, I taught them about angels. Some were wide-eyed as I showed them pictures from a pop-up Christmas book, others were more interested in the toys sprawled around, while others were intrigued by pink crocs.

A scroll on my social media page reminds me how much we need protection. As much as we try to protect our children, we cannot be with them at all times. We don’t see the bigger picture, we are not all knowing, seeing or powerful. We are limited in our power, but we serve a God who is omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent.

He is able to order his angels to protect us.

“For he orders his angels to protect you wherever you go.~

~Psalm 91:11

We colored cut-out angels to remind us that God orders his angels to protect us everywhere we go. As the little ones play with their toys and lie in their beds, they know that there are angels watching over them.

My colored angel has a home on my wall to remind me that angels are watching over me everywhere that I go.

 

Play Dough

I made play dough on Saturday. I used strawberry-red food color and it turned out a shade closer to pink, but I am glad I made it anyway. As long as it is malleable, Ksena will be happy.

Ksena enjoys making tasty Chapatis when it is Chapo day, her rolling skills are improving with the practice she does on play dough. Maybe she will be the one who makes us tortillas when she is older; a mum can dream.

I’ve gotten really good at procrastinating. Overthinking has become a past time. Granted that it is good to think through what you are about to do, but what I’ve been doing is wearing my running shoes and then tying my laces together, little wonder that I fall down before I start to run. Then I quit.

Most of the play dough recipes require you to use Cream of Tartar (I know, it sounds like Tartar sauce). For the past year, I looked for Cream of Tartar in every supermarket in Mombasa, I even checked in Nairobi but it was nowhere to be found. So I opted not to try.

On Saturday, I decided to give it a try without the Cream of Tartar, it was evident that if I wait to¬†find it I will never make it, also Ksena’s desire to mold isn’t going anywhere so I might as well get on with it. As I kneaded the play dough, the Holy Spirit prompted me to think of all the things that I have failed to do because I didn’t have perfect conditions, because I didn’t have the “Cream of Tartar”. I was humbled and embarrassed. The truth is I like having everything that I need and watching my ducks stand line quacking on key like a choir. But life doesn’t always work like that. Most times, I don’t have all my ducks in a row, in fact sometimes it looks like there is a chicken masquerading¬†in the skein, clucking as the rest are quacking.

The truth is I like having everything that I need and watching my ducks stand line quacking on key like a choir. But life doesn’t always work like that. Most times, I don’t have all my ducks in a row, in fact sometimes it looks like there is a chicken masquerading¬†in the skein, clucking as the rest are quacking.

Some of my obstacles seem silly, but I let them hold me back. I am reminded today to just do it, to chase the dream, to record those Vlogs, to write those books, to make the play dough without the Cream of Tartar and to always be malleable. Through it, God will be glorified.

You can follow my Vlog here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnmYUAAe-cc

Lessons From The Pit

Life is a teacher.

teacher

 

This phrase came up in a conversation I had with a friend yesterday. It was so timely. It summarised exactly where I was at.

A little background, after I had Miss K, I was a walking train wreck. Things did not go according to plan, my dream of a vaginal birth ended up in ‘ I’m sorry Esther, you are still at 6 cms (8 hours later). It is Cervical Dystocia. We have to have an emergency cesarean section’. I crumbled. This. Was. Not. The. Plan. I cried ( if you’ve been reading my posts for a while, you can tell that my eyes are cleansed often ūüėČ I was scared. Disappointed. Ready for the pain to end immediately. Because those contractions had me calling Jesus in every language I knew.

The after was difficult. She was jaundiced. She HATED phototherapy. The little incubator was called ‘Hawaii’. You go in clad in a diaper only and get a tan. Her cries woke up the other babies in the nursery. It was bad. Miss K dislikes the heat, imagine Hawaii in Mombasa. I think there were two days she spent more time out of Hawaii than in it. This mama was tired. The cries were ruining my ‘honeymoon’ phase. I couldn’t even stare into her eyes because they were bandaged. Let’s not even get into the squint that formed because the patches were letting in light ( story for another post).

I was not ready for the after. So I stopped. I stopped doing the things that I loved.

Then we discovered that she was a high need baby. Guys (she uses this word a lot now) THIS. WAS. HARD!! Wondering what a high need baby is? Check this out.

I sunk into a pit. I remember one day my husband found me wailing on the bed. I could barely speak. My world seemed grim. I was physically exhausted, mentally and spiritually drained. I had stopped living. I was merely existing. This experience of bringing forth life was draining me of life. I was dying; dead on the inside. And I didn’t know how to get out of the pit of darkness. I struggled for months on end. I had stopped writing. Stopped doing the things that made me feel alive.

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I don’t know what the days to come hold, but I know who holds me.

I’m not afraid to ask for help. If you see me slowly dashing in the supermarket (in my mind I’ll be moving at super speed, my legs may be moving much slower) know that it’s just me being proactive.

Staying indoors depresses me. So I will go out, look at the ocean. Enjoy some sunshine with the girls. I will write. I will live. By God’s grace, I will stay out of the pit. Even if it tries to draw me back, I know that God is able.¬†It’s so easy to slip into the pit but so difficult to get out. The longer you stay inside, the deeper you sink. Only the hand of the Almighty can raise you out.

Postpartum depression is real. God’s love, grace and mercy are real too.

Here’s to applying the lessons learned in the pit. And trusting that the God who rescued us, is able to sustain us.

Say hello to Mr. Octopus, my crafting with Miss K of the day. My little reminder that I am still alive.

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For any mama going through the pit, I pray that the Lord will rescue you. May He be the fourth man, as He was with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.

Blessings,

Bibi2be