Hello, City Bus!

Caedmon, like many little boys, has an obsession with all things motors and wheels—the bigger the better. You can imagine what it's like to drive down the street with this kid as we pass 3+-axled vehicles—trucks, big rigs, car transporters. He does not yet talk (much), but that in no way curbs his enthusiasm: "Mama! A-Mama! Eh! Eh! Eh! A-Vvvvvah! A-Vvvvvah!" And it only escalates if I don't acknowledge the grand splendor outside his window; he just needs to share this with the world!

Lately, we have witnessed a new emotion—pining. Whenever a bus drives by, Caedmon gesticulates wildly—flailing, grunting, squealing—and then my little piglet points desperately to himself: "Inside!" We've noticed it since our trip to San Diego when, walking along the streets of the Gaslamp and getting up close to the dense traffic around us, he made a discovery that probably rocked his world: people sit inside these great glorious machines. He's been wanting a part of this action since.

It's funny that he's only recently made this connection, because we've been reading a book with him called Hello, City Bus! for the past year. In it, little animals wait in line and ride the city bus across town. (Spoiler alert: they get to their destination. It's riveting.) But I guess when you're two, and your world is not only new and unfamiliar, but also filled with a bunch of UNTRUE stuff (like little animals who wait in line and ride a city bus across town), it takes some time to figure out what is real and genuinely awesome. Riding the city bus is one of them.

And so a few days ago, we, being the amazing parents we are, cleared our morning schedules to make our son's dream come true. We looked up bus routes and times—or I should say, Wayne looked up bus routes and times, because this little suburbanite gave up with the maps and time tables and handed it over to her husband. (This is why, despite the fact that I can swim really well, I would make a sucky partner for The Amazing Race.) After counting out exact change for fare, we were off on our adventure... to Target! And if you ask Caedmon, I'm sure he'd tell you it was the best day, which is all that matters.

(Actually, he'd probably just grunt. But you get the idea.)

Here comes the bus!

We are getting on the bus! (Though the real reason I included this picture is because it captures the good hair day I was having. These are few and far between and must be celebrated.)

This is the face of a boy whose dreams are being actualized.

Contentment. Right here.

After our trip to Target and a scarfed down lunch at L&L (hurried, in order to catch the bus—who knew bus-riding could be so stressful?), Caedmon excitedly announced the bus's approach: "Mama! A-Mama! Eh! Eh! Eh! A-Vvvvvah! A-Vvvvvah!"

"Are we done yet with this selfie business? I want to get back to my window."

And then it was time to say, "Goodbye". I look a lot more distressed than Caedmon, but what you can't hear is Caedmon's whimpering as he points to his chest: "Inside!"

So sad. Next time, Buddy!

Giving In AND Being a Good Mom

We are on Day 6 (of 9) of our San Diego/LA trip, and while we're having a grand ol' time, Caedmon is surely feeling the strain of constant late nights and early mornings.  On Tuesday, I took him with me to meet with an old friend for lunch, and all of these late nights and early mornings manifested itself into one horribly whiny, restless, screaming toddler who could have been a poster child for birth control.  I think I spotted little horns sprouting from his head. 

It was definitely the worst experience I've had with him at a restaurant yet, and though I took him outside several times to discipline him (which usually works), it did nothing to quell his tantrums.  To rub salt into the wound, next to us were two tables practically brimming with highchair-aged children, all sitting prettily and obediently.  I was mortified. And I was frustrated that I didn't get to catch up with my friend very well at all.  I found myself explaining apologetically, "He's not always like this", which is really what moms with misbehaving children say to make themselves feel better.  There was no question about it, I was paying for her lunch; I felt so bad. 

Afterwards, I kept thinking about what transpired earlier that day. In the back of my mind and diaper bag had sat a guaranteed solution to Caedmon's tantrums—an old disconnected smartphone that we use as a video device. Caedmon loves videos (what toddler does not?), but I try to limit his screen time, because well, that's the Good Mom thing to do. A Good Mom feeds her children healthy, well-balanced meals without too many sugary snacks in between.  A Good Mom teaches obedience with firm yet gentle rebukes.  And a Good Mom most definitely limits screen time. A Good Mom doesn't sedate her child every time she needs him to behave, which isn't obedience at all but a state of comatosis.  And a Good Mom definitely wouldn't give her child the device as a reward for his ill-behavior.  And I want to be a Good Mom.  Still, I couldn't help but think that by sticking to my no-screen-time convictions, I had simply set us all up for failure.

Though I don't want to be an indulgent parent who creates a virtual monster, I also don't want to be so rigid that in training up my child, I miss the larger perspective that along with striving to be a Good Mom, I am also a wife, a friend, a sister.  Balancing and valuing these different roles is just as important as embracing my role as mother. Caedmon's problem was that he didn't know how to exercise self-control at the table, and he surely wasn't going to learn how in that moment while I was out with my friend, when he was already tired and cranky.  Perhaps I should have been more acute to signs of early meltdown, and considering the priority of meeting with a faraway friend I hadn't seen in years, offered the device as a reward for doing something good, anything good (and then kept a mental note to work extra hard on this obedience thing at home). 

Today, I had another lunch date with an old coworker and dear friend, and with my diaper bag slightly bulgier than usual, I was armed with a smarter and fuller arsenal.  And I wasn't afraid to use it.  BAM!  Out came the freeze-dried fruit chips *gasp* before lunch.  ZAP!  Graham cracker cookie bites are oh-so-yummy instead of the quesadilla ordered for lunch. POW!  Whining? Have some fruit snacks.  I was prepared to pull out the bazooka—the smartphone—when I realized I had accidentally left it behind (blast!), but thankfully, there was a bulldozer shoveling dirt RIGHT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW. I kid you not. It was like God sent me an angel in the form of a Cat construction vehicle.  

And so Caedmon was stuffed with sugary treats (more or less wholegrain and made with all-natural fruit juice, this defensive mommy insists on adding), but he was content, and I was too, because this friend and I were able to talk and reconnect and reminisce, which is salve for any soul.  And when we return from vacation, we'll work on table manners—apart from long-awaited reunions with friends and unassuming diners trying to enjoy their meals. Sugary snacks and Veggie Tales galore will not be a norm, but sometimes, I need to know when to give in a little, for my sake as well as his.  

Because, really, I'd go broke if I kept paying for lunch. 

How to Train Your Dragon

According to the Chinese zodiac, babies born in the year of the dragon are dynamic, powerful born leaders who, on the flip side, are also feisty, aggressive, irritable, stubborn, and insistent upon getting their way.  Such is the yin and yang of life, isn't it?  For every virtue, there is an equivalent vice, which is really just the virtue in its raw, unhoned form.  

True to his birth year, Caedmon is most definitely such a dragon.  And at 26 months, he is right on cue in reaching his terrible twos. This, coupled with three weeks in the care of overindulgent grandparents while I worked an abnormally full schedule, has resulted in Caedmon showing more of his vices than virtues.  He is, indeed, feisty, aggressive, irritable, stubborn, insistent upon getting his way, and may I add, volatile.  He is definitely in his unhoned form.  I think if he could breathe fire, he would.  

I understand that all toddlers test their limits, but Wayne and I are also recognizing that Caedmon seems especially strong-willed.  We recognize the traits—fierce independence, a tenacious spirit, stubborn resolve, and fearless abandon.  To our chagrin, we suspect that Caedmon is simply a reflection of our strongest attributes—Wayne’s stubbornness and my passionate nature.

So then my quest is really how to train my dragon, to discipline my child.

Of course, I've done my research.  I've talked with other moms.  And naturally, me being me, I've read books.  

I am encouraged by author and theologian John Piper who recently wrote a compelling piece on his blog, exhorting parents to teach their children obedience not simply because it's commendable, but because it's imperative to their eternal well-being.  Or Ted Tripp in Shepherding a Child’s Heart or Ginger Plowman in Don’t Make Me Count to Three who teach that we must tend to the hearts of our children, where the root of the undesired action lies... yes, to use the rod, but to do so responsibly and in constant conjunction with loving communication, a solid relational foundation, and regular review of the Word which maintains that our Father desires our obedience for our GOOD.  We are to discipline our children not merely to elicit behavior modification, but to foster true character growth.  I am not just convinced, I am convicted.  There is so much I want to teach Caedmon so that he grows in the way of the Lord. 

And so I'm girded with practical advice, Biblical references, and the best of intentions... I am ready to tame this beast.  Cue heroic music.  

But then Caedmon screams while I'm checking out a book at the library.  And I feel the disdainful looks of the other moms whose children are quietly flipping through The Rainbow Fish and Amelia Bedilia (or maybe these are looks of empathy, but I'm too self-conscious to notice).  He melts into a pool at my feet while I'm trying to get to the bathroom, so that I am now shuffling and dragging a wailing toddler behind me.  He clenches his fists while his face turns red, his tantrum reaching a new decibel—all because we turned off his Veggietales.

In one fiery bellow, Caedmon has set my well-meaning plans aflame, singeing my outward confidence and my baby hairs, but not my inner resolve.  I will press on, because I believe my efforts are significant… even though the “how” in the equation is still (quite) a bit elusive.

I am heartened by the small bit of progress we’ve seen recently.  In the two weeks that summer has begun, and I have been home with Caedmon exclusively, we have made significant headway in obedience-training.  And by “training” I am really referring to myself, because I am learning to set limits for a two-year-old, to be firm with my baby, how to teach what is right and wrong, and how to administer loving discipline when he falters.  (And how to keep a straight face when he, say, draws all over himself with markers or brings me a clump of Lucy’s poo.)  This is no small feat, and just last week, I was able to change Caedmon’s diaper without his throwing a tantrum!  Get this—I said firmly to him, “Caedmon, Mommy is going to change your diaper.  I do not want you to cry or whine.  If you do, you will get a spanking.  Understand?”  To which he nodded, “Yes.”  And… he took my hand and QUIETLY and HAPPILY walked to his room.  Whoa.  I was floored, and honestly, still am a little.

Small steps.  But I’ll take small steps if they’re headed in the right direction.

Training my dragon on the obstacle course.

Moving In Together: Our New (Old) Home

To make more room for Caedmon to play and for (potential) future kiddos (no, we are not expecting!), our little nest has been going through some minor reshuffling and redecorating.

Our major obstacle in maximizing our three-bedroom abode was maintaining a space for both me and Wayne to work on our individual projects--me with my scrapbooking and crafts, and Wayne with his... computer games.  (Okay, I guess there's also lesson planning for work and preparing for Bible study... but definitely plenty of computer games.) Our ultimate solution was to purchase a smaller desk for Wayne and move both desks into our bedroom, along with our brimming bookshelves which were originally in the guestroom.   Before babies were in the equation, we both had our own entire rooms, so this moving in together took some adjusting to.  We joke that our new arrangement is reminiscent of dorm life, or that with all this added furniture in one small space, it's like living in an IKEA showroom, but actually, I quite like our new set-up.

Here are some before and after photos:

 Master Bedroom--Before

I can't believe we lived in this sad, sad cell for over four years before putting up any sort of decor or color!  Since it was a room that most people didn't see but us, it became last on my priority list.

After

This is much happier!  And a smarter use of space.  1. Framed fabric, inspired by a friend's crafting post.  2. Wayne's smaller, sleeker desk operates as a work station and nightstand.  Side storage compartment houses messy computer wires and a built-in USB hub.  3. What a difference one decorative pillow makes!  4. Billy bookcases from IKEA lined in the back with shelf paper for a custom look.  5. These lamps from Target placed up high were an economical alternative to recessed lighting.  6. My big, honking desk fits!  Yay!

Wall gallery of photos FINALLY up!

Living Room--Before

After

1. I constructed this window seat using two IKEA Kallax shelves, following this tutorial.  2. IKEA Drona fabric bins in white are painted with fabric paint to coordinate (I used Martha Stewart satin finish craft paint in "wet cement".)  3. Envelope pillow covers are my new sewing obsession!  4. Rug from overstock.com.

 Caedmon now has so much more space to play, and his toys are neatly tucked away when not in use.

Some window seat tutorials recommend attaching legs to the bottom of the structure, but when we did, the seat was too high for my short limbs, so we had to take them off.  Another roadblock we came across was how to level the window seat, since ours rests partially on the rug and hardwood.  What we ended up doing was inserting random pieces of thin wood under the seat on the hardwood (an extra shelf from a bookcase and leftover wainscoting from the previous homeowners)--simple, economical, and effective!

Guest Room--Before

After

This room is definitely still a work in progress, as I'd like to put up curtains and, perhaps, reupholster the armchair, which right now, is a complete eyesore against the grays and yellows. Still, I don't want to invest too much into this room, since it will be probably be Caedmon's before long, and I'll have to change everything again.  I do absolutely love the map art from my sister and brother-in-law; it will work even when this room becomes Caedmon's.

We All Scream for Ice Cream (Especially Caedmon)

Gunther's Ice Cream in Sacramento, CA

A couple of weeks ago, we took a trip to Gunther's.  We love this old-fashioned ice cream parlor that is as much a proverbial Shangri-la of sugary confections as it is a fixture in iconic Sacramento.  As if we need an excuse to go, I had an Entertainment Book coupon that was about to expire, and who can let free ice cream go to waste?  Plus, I thought it would be fun to capture Caedmon's first taste of ice cream.  Well, his second. His first was a hilarious contortion of his face in response to the unfamiliar freezing temperatures in his mouth, but without a camera, the moment was lost.  This time, we were armed and ready.  Wayne voiced his concern, though.  "Are you sure you want him eating ice cream at this hour?  All for the sake of a picture?"  "Don't worry," I reasoned.  "He doesn't like it. I just want a picture for his scrapbook."  

Oh, how I was wrong...

No, thank you.  This is new and strange.  I do NOT want to try it! 

I'd really rather play on this window ledge and bombard the people in the next booth with my cuteness.

Nevermind that there's a placard that says, "Parents, please keep children off the window" that Mom didn't see until way later... Oops.

Okay, I'll give it another try...

Oooh... that's good!

I need another bite.

And another...

What do you mean, "That's enough"?!  

Crying and screaming ensued, but we brought it upon ourselves, right?  We took him outside, which always does the trick.  And though our evening dissolved into a slight meltdown, I would say it was a rather happy ending... Not only did we get our fill of ice cream for our stomachs, and I, fodder for my scrapbook, Wayne and I were able to witness the likes of a budding love story, because if this boy is anything like his parents, he will be blissfully entangled in this sweet, creamy romance for years to come.

Okay, I'll play on this bike rack... I'm easily distracted.  But Mom, when's my next ice cream cone??

If I Could, I Would, but I Can't, So... Let Me Think About It

I just received a call from Valley High School, where I taught during my first year.  They have a .6 position open for next semester (meaning I would teach 3 classes instead of the usual 5 plus a prep period), and they actually remembered how I mentioned in passing last year that if I were to teach now, it would be part-time at a .6.  The VP who called even went on to say that he doesn't do this for everyone, but because of the teacher he knows I am, he would work with me to give me the classes and schedule that would work best for me.  (Wow, so flattering...)  And my response?  I told him that I'd think about it!

What??  I can't go back right now!  Not next semester already.  I've made a commitment to Caedmon to stay with him at least another school year, and really, a not-set-in-stone-but-pretty-much-there commitment to our family to stay home until all the kids are in school.  Plus, I already HAVE a .6 contract from which I'm currently taking a leave!  Though I have talked about going back to Valley, an inner-city school where I feel I'm actually making a difference, if not academically, but as a (perhaps) rare positive adult in my students' lives, I know in my heart of hearts that this is not the right timing for this opportunity.

So then why did I say, "maybe"?  

Because I didn't want to say "no".  Because for a few days, I want to feel like I have options, that I am someone who is valued for her abilities and talents.  That I could actually be good at something again, because though I know it's trite to say, I honestly do feel like I am failing miserably at this new job as stay-at-home-mom to Caedmon (post about that in the works).  That maybe I can put my time into something that will yield more tangible and quick-bearing fruit (though this is teaching... Really? There is absolutely no guarantee of any such tangible or quick-bearing fruit!)

But.  But this--staying home and raising Caedmon--is worth it, right?  He just woke up and is now screaming... always the screaming... My patience is so thin... I'm so tired... Yet this is worth it.  Right?  Though I don't feel like it at all in this moment, I know it is--for us.  In no way do I equate being a good mom to staying home, but if we have thought it through and have made a commitment, I feel it WOULD be remiss of me to change my mind based solely on my fleeting circumstances and Caedmon's ever-changing moods.  And so I just have to grin and bear it.. maybe even cry and bear it, but bear it all the same, because though these fruits are elusive and slow during the toddler years (and perhaps through the elementary years and the teenage years--God, help me...), I do trust and believe that I am where I should be right now.  No, I'm not trying to be a martyr, just a mother who sometimes has a rough day (make that many days)... who will turn down a job offer next week so that she can keep doing what is currently kicking her butt.  

"Let us not be weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."  Galatians 6:9

This is Trouble...

  

Celebrating 5 Years

Wayne and I celebrated our five year anniversary yesterday by going out to dinner at a nice restaurant in town.  Yes, Caedmon cried when we left (when does he not?), but even as I pried his fingers from around my neck, my spirits were high.  We were going out!  At night!  Together!  It was almost surreal, driving the familiar streets... but at night.

With nothing else open during the late evenings in Elk Grove, we were home by 9:45, but that short excursion out together was so incredibly revitalizing, not just for my spirits, but I know for our relationship, as well.  Uninterrupted conversation and undivided attentions for un-sleepy spouses can do wonders.... imagine that.  (Gifts of jewelry also help.  See my new necklace below... EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!)

I remember when we were first married, older couples advised us to always keep up with date nights.  Okay, we thought, and diligently applied this sage advice for the first four years.  Oh, yes, this is fun, we said to one another, as each week, we checked off restaurants we wanted to try, sometimes even twice in that time frame.  Did we want ice cream afterwards?  Sure.  Did we want to watch a movie in the theaters?  Why not?  (But only if there was a coupon.)  Did we want to spend three and a half weeks gallivanting all over Europe for our summer break?  Absolutely.  And then Caedmon came along and changed EVERYTHING... including my relationship with my very best friend.  We no longer have as much time or, to be honest, the energy to spend that level of quality time with one another... zoning out in front of the television after Caedmon has gone to bed because we're so dog-tired just isn't the same.

And so now I understand the advice of the Wise Ones so much clearer.  It is hard to carve out time with Wayne, when all I want to do in the evenings is read or work on a crossword.  It is hard to leave Caedmon, knowing he has a difficult time with us gone.  It is hard, even, to find the motivation to actually put on something that is not cotton and make myself look more than just presentable. It is so much harder now to keep up with date nights, but I'm already realizing that it's a worthwhile endeavor.

So I had a really good time last night...

hint, hint, Wayne.  ;)

What, I not only brushed my hair but curled it?  This must be a special occasion.

At Boulevard Bistro in Elk Grove.

One of Those Days

Today was one of those days that made me want to just bury my head in the sand... and not emerge until Caedmon is in college.  He was SO cranky and whiney and clingy and threw multiple tantrums before it was even lunchtime.

I've been reading Toddlerwise, the third installment in the Babywise series by Gary Ezzo and Dr. Robert Bucknam, and in it, it said (quoting Elaine St. James from her book Simplify Your Life with Kids):

Kids who live without structure can develop behavior problems.  Frequent tantrums, whining, a disregard for rules, inappropriate or aggressive behavior, constant demands, and an inability to share are some signs that your child needs more structure (43). 

So is that what Caedmon needs?  More structure?  (Goodness, that book has a way of making me feel so guilty.)

Today I decided to introduce "Blanket Time", which is what the book suggests as one structured, controlled way for children to play on their own.  During Blanket Time, children play with toys on a blanket and should not move off of it until Mom or Dad say so.  Sounds pretty good, right?  I thought Caedmon could benefit from some Blanket Time, especially for those instances when I cannot be monitoring him, like when I'm in the shower.  (It would be an improvement upon the chairs I'm currently using to corral him in.) I laid out TWO blankets to give Caedmon more space to play, dispersed plenty of his favorite toys, and called him over cheerily, optimistically for his first try at Blanket Time.  And then this ensued:

True to his shirt, he is, indeed, crabby.

Oh, my goodness, the squalor.  That boy cried and clung to me and arched his back in defiance, because of... I don't know what.  Forget about "structured and controlled", we never even made it to the blanket.

I feel like such a failure... and it's not just because of Blanket Time.  It's because he's such a monster!

You know those babies who are angelic, sweet in nature, will smile and chuckle when you make faces at them, will snuggle your neck when you ask, "Can I hold him?"... That is NOT my son. Yes, he brings me unfathomable joy and is actually quite pleasant for much of the time (with us), but when he's upset, he's upset, and he can turn on a dime. (Where did that adage come from anyway?)

No, it's not just Blanket Time, but it's in seeing how willful and disobedient and defiant and prone to tantrums Caedmon can be and often is that makes me feel like I must be doing something sorely wrong here.  I realize Caedmon is just 15 months... is this just the way of a young toddler?  But it's also his sin nature that is already so evident and strong in him that alarms me so.  And even more, I'm discouraged by my own inadequacy to correct and nurture and tame this beast.  How am I supposed to do it all?

I know the answer... and that is that I CAN'T do it, which is why I NEED to rely on God's grace and provision.  And while this really should be a relief and the solace I seek, it's hard to feel better when I'm still standing at the base of the most treacherous peak I've ever been asked to conquer.

Trust God.  Surrender to God.  Do my best with what God has given.  That's all I can do, and it's all that is asked of me... I want Caedmon to know God and follow His will and heart... I want Caedmon to have a strong character and obey and respect us.  I want him to be good and do good, not just for the sake of being good, but because it will be a reflection of his heart condition.  I want him to be compassionate, generous, and bold.  I want all these things for Caedmon... and yet right now he seems SO far from that... and I am so far from being the mom to guide him along that path. (And the truth is, I may do all the right things with Caedmon, and he STILL may remain a monster.  And I need to accept and be content with whatever God has for him... may it be monster status and all... though right now, that's very hard to embrace.)

Trust God.  Surrender to God.  Do my best.  sigh... one foot in front of the other.  Tomorrow is a new day. Time to dig my head out of the sand and be renewed and start anew.

"Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You.  Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life."  Psalm 143:8

The Truth About Crafts (and Dogs)

This was my latest makeover project--our upholstered metal folding chairs.

Before

 After

Pretty nice upgrade, wouldn't you say?  But what is even more interesting, I think, is the behind-the-scenes footage of this saga, because the reality is, behind every pretty picture of a craft I've completed, is a slew of headaches and frustrations that are lost to the public eye as soon as I post a polished "after" photo.  

This is the truth of crafting that Pinterest will not tell you.

Other mishaps in my past include:
the orange door
our family room

There was also our dining table that I refinished TWICE and still has pockmarks, because apparently, I'm horrible at sanding away pre-existing varnish.  And my purple bookshelf that I painted with such alacrity in college, but learned the difficult way the indispensable importance of primer when all its painted stripes peeled off, taking along with it my hard work and motivation.  I ended up taking a whole quarter (or was it two) to finally finish that thing.

And now these reupholstered folding chairs.

Every tutorial I had encountered proclaimed how easy this project was, and you know, after I got that first one done, the rest really were fairly simple, but that first chair.  Oh, that first chair.  I can't look at that pink chair without a little bit of a grimace.  Here is what I had to learn, the hard way:

• You need short staples (1/4") to attach your new fabric, otherwise your staples will go through the top panel. (There was NOT ONE tutorial online that I could find that addressed my problem of staples going through, so I provide a solution here.  See next bullet for solution #2.)
• You need a thick home decorating fabric, (and even then, there are thinner ones interspersed with the thicker ones... don't go for those), otherwise your staples will go through the top panel.  My pink fabric is thinner, and I had to resort to stapling only partially through, so as not to injure my guests who will be sitting in this chair.  (I could have also kept the original fabric on underneath, but the pattern showed through the white part of my pink fabric.  This is another reason to buy a thicker fabric, so that you don't have to go through the hassle of removing the original fabric.)

My thinner fabric requires me to staple only partially through, lest the staples puncture through the other side, stabbing my unassuming guests in the back.

• Use a heavy duty staple gun.  Don't go for the prettier, lighter one advertised to be easier on your hands (EVEN if the packaging has on it a picture of a man stapling together a wooden birdhouse... don't trust it). Otherwise, you will end up with two staple guns and have spent $23 instead of $9, when the prettier, easy-on-the-hands one refuses to puncture anything.  What worked was the Arrow JT27.  

Go for a heavy duty staple gun, like the one on the right.

• When purchasing anything, double check that you have the right items and that they are in working order, like, say, that your spray adhesive is not missing a nozzle.  Otherwise, you will make the untimely discovery the next time you craft, i.e. when the baby is napping, and therefore, you will be home-bound, and unable to move on with your project, you will be left with nothing else to do but twiddle your thumbs.  Talk about a momentum-buster.  
• Speaking of spray adhesive, don't use it indoors at your dining table.  This seems like common sense, and apparently, I don't have any.  If you, too, lack common sense, you will get spray adhesive all over your table, computer, phone, and anything else that's lying within a 2-foot radius of your target.  You will then need to use GooGone and some soapy water to remove adhesive (you're welcome for doing the research for you).
• The bottom panel that you sit on is not a uniform square, at least it wasn't on my chairs.  The back corners are more tapered than the front ones.  Therefore, it matters which way your fabric is lined up.  Lay your fabric on to check if it lines up correctly BEFORE you staple it all on... otherwise, you will find yourself grumbling under your breath as you rip out all the staples, rotate your fabric, and then staple it back on again.

NOOOO!!!

• If you have chairs with these plastic push-in rivets on the bottom, as opposed to metal screws, curse the chair-making powers that be and then decide your course of action.  More on this below, but DON'T try to cut them off with scissors.  It is an ineffective method that will take too much time and will hurt your hands in the process.  There are better ways to remove the rivets.  

Okay, now that I've finished airing my frustrations and thoroughly scared some of you  from attempting this project, let me assure you that it really is quite simple.  ;)  Here's what I did that worked, and hopefully my mistakes will save you some time and headache... though if you're anything like me, you, too, must learn the hard way.  What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?  Yes, I believe that can be applied to crafting.  

How to Reupholster Your Folding Chair

Materials:

• folding chair
• heavy home decorating fabric (about 1/2-yard)
• spray adhesive (optional, but it helps)
• heavy(ier) duty staple gun
• 1/4-inch staples
• screwdriver

Additional materials you may need:

• hammer or metal mallet
• #8-32 x 1/2" round head screws with bolts (I would actually get ones with larger heads, if they exist, but otherwise, these work.)
• E6000 glue

1. Unscrew the top and bottom panels.  Or, if you are unfortunate like me, your chair panels are attached by plastic push-in rivets.  Use a hammer to pound them out.  If the rivets are not too shredded, you can simply reinsert the panel when you are finished reupholstering it.  (Test by replacing the seat panel to see if old rivets will hold.)  If, though, they are not reusable, or if you want a sturdier attachment, you can replace the rivets with the round head screws.

2. Hopefully, your new fabric is nice and thick and not see-through, so you can simply lay it on top of the original fabric.  However, if your original fabric is in poor condition, or if you want to replace the plastic push-in rivets with screws, then you'll need to remove the original fabric using a screwdriver to lift the staples.

3.  If you are replacing the plastic rivets with screws, pull the cushion apart from the backing and remove rivets and reinsert round head screws.  I used masking tape to keep the screws in place before I flipped the board back over so that the screws are pointed outwards.  

4.  Laying the panels on top of your new (and ironed) fabric, cut out pieces with about 1-1/2 to 2 inches extra on each side.  Be aware of which sides are the front and back of your panel, and align your fabric accordingly.  Use spray adhesive (outside!) to secure fabric, and then start stapling.  Start in the middle of one side, and add a couple more on either side, spaced evenly apart.  Pull the fabric taut, and repeat on the opposite side.  Continue on the third side, and then it's opposite side.  

 5.  When you get to the corners, be sure to pleat the fabric before stapling, working around each curve.

6. Cut away excess fabric that may be covering the holes for your screws.  Realign your panels to the chair, and screw back into place.  If you replaced the push-in rivets with screws, attach bolts now.  If you kept the old push-in rivets, all you need to do is snap the seat panel back in position.  A little wobbly?  Or maybe you were too lazy to replace the broken rivets?  Use the E6000 glue.  This is an easy solution, but you won't be able to take the panel off again.

7.  And that's it!  Enjoy your chair! 

Easy, right?  Haha, I guess you'll have to find out.

As for Lucy, she's content to play with protective plastic wrap and paint silly expressions, even when her chairs don't turn out.  No sweat.  Maybe I should take a page from her book.

Taking a break from her painting project