number 100

Hello friends. I've missed you so.
I've not posted for a number of reasons. The first is the annoyance of slow internet and the fact that I have to connect through Husband's Blackberry, which I cannot do myself. Another is that this is my 100th post and I wanted something good to discuss.
So here area series of Holiday misfortunes I experienced this year. I hope you will find them entertaining.
So, remember the CD's I painted and gave to neighbors? Yeah, turns out they didn't burn so I delivered blank, decorative cd's.
I guess I could pretend I meant to do it, thinking my friends might like to have a fancy-like cd to burn for themselves. Yeah, that's better. That way, if someone doesn't like my taste in Christmas music ,"Wham" for example, they can still enjoy the gift. Yes that has a much better ring to it.
Here's unfortunate Holiday event number two.
My Mother-in-law received, a variety of spices and such from a friend who visited Bali.
Among them was a bag of 100% Coca powder. Fantastic gift, wouldn't you say?
One evening when no one was home but my own little family we invited Barefoot Cassandra and her mellow read-head to come and socialize. While the men-folk were off fetching dinner I went to the pantry to find what I needed to make hot chocolate. I caught sight of the fancy cocoa and and brought it out to show Barefoot, who is the type to appreciate such things.
We stood there discussing and musing over what the difference would be in, say, a batch of brownies, made with the 100% coca powder as opposed to plain old dutch process from the grocery store.
Then I noticed that Baby Girl had gotten hold of the bag while I was busy conversing and was squishing it a bit. At which point I saw the future, just like in "Next".
I thought to myself "I need to take that away before she pops the bag" and just as I reached for it, she gave it a big squeeze and coated herself, Cassandra, and the kitchen with a liberal dusting of gourmet cocoa. I should have quickly whipped up a batch of truffles to roll in the delicious stuff, I could pick off any crumbs that came off the floor along with the delicious! Instead, I stood there, gasping. I don't remember what I said but I said it quite a few times.
Of all the hundreds of ways for a small child to make a mess of a kitchen, mine had to chose the way that involved an ingredient I could not replace.
After I cleaned it up I called the Mother-in-law and confessed. She was shopping at Down Town Disney when I called. AfterI hung up the phone I started the gasping all over again. "Now I've ruined the Coca and her evening at Disney Land" I lamented.
Cas was kind enough to point out that while the news was certainly disappointing it was probably not so bad as to ruin her whole evening and eventually I recovered.
In case you were wondering. We licked some of the spilled powder off the kitchen and found that it didn't taste any different than any other cocoa powder we'd experienced. I think it smelled better though.
Well,that was only two holiday misfortunes which may not really count as a series but it's all I've got.
I suppose I could tell the tale of how I came within 30 minutes of procuring a Wii for Husband's Christmas gift but I'm all posted out at the moment so, You'll just have to imagine for yourself how that went if you're interested.

stockings

My dear friend Melis made these for me.
I dreamed them up two years ago while thinking about what kind of stockings I'd like to have for my family, but every year by the time I got around to thinking about them, it was too late to learn how to make them.
My knitting skills are very remidial indeed.
So, this year when I thought of them I called up Melis and she made them for me.
I couldn't be more thrilled. They are everything I imagined and more. I can't wait to stuff them full of goodies.

Out of body sewing

This is Baby Girl's flower girl dress. The Bride was generous enough to let me design it, my only guideline was color.
The dress was in my head just waiting, wanting to be made.
I didn't draft a pattern, didn't even draw out the pieces in dissapeaging ink, just picked up my scisors and started cutting. Each piece materialized as I worked. Baby Girl was in bed when I started. I'd been planning to start in the morning so I hadn't even taken measurements but it all fit very near perfectly. The alteration I had to make ( I took in about 1/4 inch at the corners of the neck line) I knew would be needed before I even put it on her. This, friends, is a miracle dress.
The hem is the whole story with this dress. Super simple bodice, fitted raglan sleves, no trim at the waist, then at the hem a 2 inch grow stripe and a pretty pointed lace petticoat just peeking out from under all of that velveteen.
The slip will be a dress of it's own come spring. I'll rig up a little sweater or jacket and it will have it's day in the sun.
I still have not worked out the button situation. I'd really like rheinstone or crystal. I think a little bling in contrast with the old timey vibe I'm putting out with the grow stripe and the lace will be just the thing to finish it off.
I'll let you know what I decide

More from Grandma

This Bunny was another cause for fight between my and my sister. Grandma got our favorite animals mixed up and sent me the bunny and her the kitty. OOPS! We were especially happy that year because there was a hershy's kiss inside. I think that's the only time she sent goodies of any kind with our ornaments.



I've had this one for the length of my memory. It has my initials on it. My sister Elizabeth and I had the same initials so we distinguished between ourr hearts by ribbon color. There was discussion about who had pink and who had red every year. This was discussion rather than fight because she is six years older than I am. I was more apt to fight with siblings closer to my own age.



Another star and another favorite. Stars are one of my favorite shapes. I love the siplicity of this, just buttons glued on a wooden star, but it's beautiful. The single red sequin in the center is the perfect touch of color.

elf swing

I've always thought this guy needed something to sit on, so this year he's swinging on my wooden beads.
This is another one from Grandma.

Holiday Traditions Exchange

This is one of the things Doreen , my swap partner sent.
I didn't think to take a picture of everything together before I put the ornaments on the tree, the cd in the player, the book on the bookshelf, etc. It was all wonderful and if I was at my own house I'd round it all up and photograph it for you now.
Just know that it was fabulous.
Thanks Doreen!

sunbeam tree

I made this in sunday school when I was three.

Seriously?

So, as I was strolling through the pacifier department as my local grocery store one day while I was still preggers, I noticed the NUK starlight pacifiers.
They were lovely! Such clean lines, the colors, though limited, were fantastic! Never had I seen a paci so sleek and stylish. I bought a two pack and sent one off to a friend, saving the other for my own tiny boy. Luckily enough, that was the variety of bink he favoured and aside from the soothie they gave us in the hospital the only kind he's ever used.
But now I can't find them.
I got around to looking online today and all I came up with was a product description which reminded me how much I do indeed love that pacifier, and this
$18.95 for a pack of binkis? Are you kidding me?
I guess I am not the only one who loves them.
I suppose it's just as well. It's time to start getting Tiny off the bink anyway, but in the mean time I get all antsey when any of the 3 we have are MIA.
We were down to one for a few days and it almost drove me to insanity. And that was before I googled and was still hopefully checking every time I went to the store.
In reality, Tiny boy would probably be fine with any NUK I gave him. It is me who is in love with the starlight so I guess if the 3 got lost before we were through with paci's in general, I could buy any ugly old nuk and be ok, but I wouldn't be happy about it.

Christmas yums; a recipe

Unwrap a bag of huggs or kisses


Place each one on top of a pretzel snap


Tuck the whole lot into a 250 degree oven for 3 minutes or untill melted through


Squash an m&m on the tops of them all and let cool until set.

Little gifts for little friends

Put on a happy face


Picking up bitsy pom poms


and making them stick


Snow Girl got some junk in her trunk.



Snow man kick line

My deadly sin?

Crafting to excess
I planned to sit down and write a photo laden post about it all but upon looking over my photos I've decided it's going to take a few photo laden posts to cover it. I think I'll just stick with my neighbor gifts for this one. I delivered them yesterday. It feels good to have done with it.


I've scorned paper crafts in the past. I love cut and paste art a la 4th grade but scrap booking/card making left me totally uninspired. This year though, I seem to have caught the bug. I don't think I'll ever get as into it as some people are and it will definitely never be my center stage craft but I had fun with the tags for my goodies.


I also got the notion that I'd like paint cd's so along with the yummies the neighbors got a hand painted copy of my favorite Christmas mix, Hallelujah Chorus, Frankie and Cyndi Lauper's Santa Clause is commin to town, Wham!'s Last Christmas I gev you my heart...you know, the classics.


This one is my favorite.

December afternoon

This one my mama made for Baby Girl last Christmas.




Tiny Boy is crawling with a wooden ball in his hand. On the wood floor it sounds like he's stumping about on a peg leg.
He lets go of the ball as he reaches to climb up next to the sofa or my leg. As the ball rolls away it catches his attention and calls him back.
After a while he is so exhausted of the game he lays his little head down on my foot and sighs.

Baby Girl is helping me wrap a gift. As she holds the paper still for me she sings "Pets gonna work? Team Work!" Nothing will convince her that "What's" is the first word of the song.
As I finish up the pile of curly ribbon on the gift she reminds me "but we don't tell!"

second thoughts

Tonight is my monthly bunko game. I went rummaging through the craft closet trying to come up with a gift to take because I so desperately did not want to go to the store.
I rummaged my way to this little bag I crocheted up in imitation of Bella Dia's Button Hole bag a few years ago. All that was left to do was to sew it together and add some kind of embellishment.
I did it, and now I'm afraid I don't want to give it away.
It would be fine if I knew the person who received it would love it, but what if they don't?
What if the person who ends up with it hates it?
What if it's Phyllis' oven mit?
It is a bit lumpy, and the ribbon is the best choice of what I had in the closet, though not what I would pick in an ideal situation, but I love it, and accordingly want it to be loved. Is that too much to ask?



Grandma was into these little faces one year. She has a family tree hanging on her wall with little faces of all our ancestors. This is me.

Enchanted

I chose this Ornament for this post because it is the most enchanted of all of them. What little girl in the 80's didn't love a unicorn? I don't know if the boy's got unicorns too or if Grandma made them something a little more manly.
We saw Enchanted yesterday. It filled all my expectations of fabulousness.
I think my favorite part was that Nancy wasn't just ditched. I hate when the old girlfriend is nice and they just ditch her. I also loved that she was Maureen and sang her tango to my self as we went home.
Baby Girl cried at 3 parts of the film. See if you can guess which parts made her cry and leave me a comment with your answer. At least one is pretty obvious. The first person to guess the least obvious answer wins a prize. T,he prize is yummy Christmas yummy stuff and maybe one of the pom-pom snowmen Baby Girl and I are making for her friends.
If you have not seen the film don't look at the comments unless you want to see spoilers. I am expecting participation from all of you who have seen the film. Except Husband because he was there for the crying so he already knows the answer and that would be cheating.

Grandma's outdone herself this time.

The acrylic star, etched with my name, took my breath away when I fist saw it.
I was five that year. Thrilled to add another ornament to my collection and such an ornament it was! How would Grandma ever top that beautiful star?
I'm not sure she ever did. She's made a lot of lovely, cute and creative things over the years but I don't think I've ever been as enthralled my any of them as I was by this one.

A pile of vomit and a shirtless mother

Tuesday morning found me bustling about getting ready for my joy school lesson. Finally at about 9:00, thirty minutes before the children were due to arrive, I decided it was high time I got myself and my child ready.
I deemed that not having the cups and napkins on the counter ready for snack time would be much less of a problem for me than not having hair done when kids started showing up, so I started in that direction. The need for a few minutes quality time with my flat iron was amplified my the fact that I'd gone to bed on wet hair the night before.
Baby Girl was lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs where she'd been since I told her she could not have a Dora yogurt drink until she finished her cereal, which she was "too full to eat".
I decided to tackle her tresses first and called her to come up stairs. Her response was "I'm too tired to do that" So I walked down and hefted her up the stairs vowing with each step that she'd have a nap as soon as the other children left my home.
"I'm going to throw up" she said, as we were reaching the top of the stairs. This is not a statement to be taken lightly. I cupped my hand beneath her chin and began to run.
A step or two later life cereal began to spew forth.
That stuff just kept on coming!
She finally stopped, and I took her the rest of the way to the bathroom and began to dispose of my handful. "I'll just use my pitcher" she says as she begins to toss even more of her cookies into the bath pitcher.
I got my hands clean, removed my puked up shirt and got her in the bath. then, as I was debating whether to clean up the floor first or call the joy school parents and tell them not to come, the door bell rang.
Tiny Boy had been playing far away from the up-chuck... until now. There I stood, in my bra, hair standing on end, baby veering toward a puddle of disgust, and a guest at the door.
I was fortunate enough to have a basket of clean laundry close at hand. I scooped up the wee child and held him over one arm while I dug through the basket of what seemed to be nothing but childrenswear until I produced the one and only adult shirt in the lot which I donned, somehow, on my way down the stairs.
"I hope it's ok that we're early" says the mother at the door.

A discovery

Tiny Boy has had his bottom front teeth for five months now. More recently her grew his right top front tooth along with his left top vampire tooth. It makes for a lovely smile.
On Sunday last, he figured out what he could do with that tooth up there on top and ate his blue berries in the tiniest of bites.
Teeth are so much more useful when they line up.

The Salvation Army got me this time.

I hate the bell ringers. I hate them! I would be happy to give spare change to the Salvation Army if only they would not insist upon harassing me with bells every time I enter the grocery store throughout December.
I told myself that I would put money in if ever I saw a bucket without an immigrant violently ringing a bell at me as I passed.
Today at Wal*Mart it happened. The ringer was standing off to the side of the entrance talking on the phone, not ringing. So I got out some change for Baby Girl to put in the bucket. The man rang his bell in appreciation.
I think such a ring, a ring of gratitude is perfectly acceptable. It did not make me feel harassed or guilty about my unwillingness to donate. It delighted my child and made me grateful that for once in my life I arrived at the store while the ringer was on break.


My grandma made each of us an ornament every year. The strawberry ornament has always been a favorite of mine. It has been with me for many a Christmas. I think I got that one the year I was four.
It was prettier in it's prime. Now the felt leaves are worn down to green nubs and the berry it's self has perhaps been squished a time too many.
My sister and I were always confused as to which berry was who's and would fight over them until the rightful owner of each was decided. I don't recall what the difference was or even if the same one was the preffered every year, but squabble we did, until our mother got separate boxes for each of us to store our ornaments in.

shhhh!

We were sitting in the back at church today. Near by, a man was standing with his baby.
After some rocking and bouncing on the part of the father the baby went to sleep. "Shhh!" said Baby Girl. She kept saying it every time I looked at her. Sometimes she'd tap me just so I'd look over and she could shh me. This continued until the man haded the baby to his wife.
Toward the end of the meeting, the shhhing started up again. The man was still standing by the wall a little way off, but now he was holding a squirmy toddler who was not, and had no intention of sleeping.
I was a bit perplexed, but after a moment I noticed the gentleman sitting in the row in front of us was dozing.

I think he'd be glad to know the small 3 year old girl behind him was taking such great care to insure that her mother was respectful of his nap time.





Here's the tree, It's really not quite finished. I've never decided what I would like for a tree skirt so the ugly metal stand and the yoga mat I put under it to keep it from scratching the floor are contributing their beauty to the scene. I usually just put some presents under there quick like to hide that stuff. The Dog took to humping the gifts last year though, so I'm not too eager to put any within his reach.
I also don't have a star for the top. I might make one one of these days.










And of course this is the gold foil number I made in fifth grade, hung with a bit of blue string. My mother had a big spool of blue string. I grew up thinking blue was the normal color for string. Does string even come in other colors?

Welcome December

I put my tree up today and I had a fantastic idea.
Since I tend to do better at posting when I have some sort of theme going, and with holiday craziness filling my life I'm not likely to post like I'd like to without some sort of a motivational shove, why don't I spot light the different ornaments on my tree throughout December?
I couldn't think of a good reason why I shouldn't so I'm going to.
Don't you worry, If I have another child-pee incident or other topic of interest to discuss I will certainly put the ornamental posts aside in order to do so. I wouldn't want any one to miss out on any of the really important things I have to say because I was busy strolling along memory lane with a bit of card stock encased in peeling gold foil and a photo of myself at 10 years of age.
I suppose a good thing for this kick-off post would have been a photo of the tree in it's entirety, or at least the gold-foil ornament I mentioned, but I don't care to snap any photos at the moment. So use your imaginations, and I'll try to work up the energy to toss you a photo tomorrow...or sometime.

Take That!

Well I've done it. I kicked NaBloPoMo's hinder.
It was all "I dare to to try Eva, you'll never make it a whole month, even if you do manage to post everyday while you're on vacation, you'll forget some other stupid time when all you'll do all day is sit on the couch not posting."
And I was all "Oh yeah NaBloPoMo? you think you can take me? I'll Post the heck out of November!"
And I did.
And now it's like "Man Eva you are awesome. You so totally won. I'll never doubt your ability to post every day for a month again... But I might doubt your ability to make every post interesting. None of those 'I almost forgot' cop-out posts."
and I'm like "It is ON NaBloPoMo. It is ON!"

I hope you are excited/scared.

a list

I've been feeling a bit behind lately. For the past few days I've been planning to write a list of the things I need to do in the coming weeks to fill my commitments and prepare for the holidays.
So far I haven't gotten around to writing the list.
I do not think that is a very good sign.
So here is my list for tomorrow

Write a list
Style my hair
Find a baby sitter

Let's just see how that goes. I don't know if I can get through all of that but I'll give it my best effort.

Poke

We took the children to the doctor today. Baby Girl had her 3 year check-up and Tiny Boy had his 9 month.
There were a few moments in the conversation with the Doctor that were especially rewarding. The shining moment was when she asked if Baby Girl "had any interest in potty training yet" and I was able to answer that she's been potty trained for over a year now.
The other satisfying bits were little things that she mentioned that we already do like not giving lots of juice and switching to skim milk after the age of 2. It's just nice to hear that something you do anyway is considered to be "right"
Tiny Boy was tested for anemia. The itty bitty Spider Man band-aid on his itty bitty toe is so very adorable.
Both kids also got flu shots. I've never made up my mind about immunizations so we get them and as long as were getting them we might as well get the flu shots too.
Baby Girl didn't even cry. I was waiting for the scream, then the husband (who was home today because he was not laid off) said "it's all done!" and there was the girl happy as can be with a band-aid on her little arm.
Tiny only whimpered and squirmed a little for the anemia test but he did wail pretty good for the shot.
Another thing about today, nobody peed on anything that should not be peed on. Diapers and toilets only today folks!

Moan

We went on a little shopping trip today. First to Michaels where I was that mother who nags at her child constantly when the child seems to be behaving relatively well and does nothing but nag some more when the child is naughty. I hadn't noticed yet the impact my cold was having on my behaviour.
On the walk from Michaels to Target I realized, and prepared myself to do better. To hold the brain fog at bay and pay attention to what my child was doing and thus avoid nagging when the fog lifted for a minute and found her taking the lids off all of the push pops in the candy display.
We made a potty stop first thing at Target. Baby Girl had been holding it for a few minutes and peed with such fury that it shot out over the rim and into her pants. Why to public toilets have that blasted gap in the seat anyway? She was wearing a skirt which fortunately avoided any spray so we talked about how she would need to walk nicely and make sure her bum was covered which she managed quite well.
On to the boy. I layed out paper towels on the changing station because some people are none too careful about cleaning up after them selves and got to the changing. The wipes were not in my purse. But I thought I could manage the poop with toilet paper in this instance, and so asked Baby Girl to fetch me some.
While she was making sure she went in the exact stall I meant, because the toilet paper in the stall next door would surely not do, and deciding which roll she should get the paper from, etc. Tiny Boy peed all over himself, and the hand I was resting on his tummy to make sure he didn't roll off the station while I was watching his sister get the toilet paper.
Then Baby Girl brings me a crumpled half-square.
I cleaned Tiny with paper towels because I could reach them myself, and then ventured forth into Target with a naked baby and a commando 3 year old.
Now I am the mother that nags her child for no apparent reason, leaves pee germs all over the changing station, and takes her baby out in nothing but a diaper.
After a stop at the toddler underpants isle I was also the mother who opens packages before paying. Also the one who hands the cashier a tag for the onsie her baby is already wearing.
It was a proud day.

Bomp Bomp Bomp

We stayed with the husband's grand-parents last night. There was something wrong with their heater so from the bathroom it sounded like the heart-beat of an unborn child.
As I stood at the sink, toothbrush in-hand I was reminded of all the times I listened to the child in the womb next-door while I waited for the mid-wife to come and measure my belly.
It only just occurred to me that the walls in my doctor's office are rather thin. I don't recall over hearing anything but the doppler from neighboring examining rooms while at the office, but just the same, next time I'm there I think I'll use a 12 inch whisper to discuss birth control options and menstrual cycles and the state of my perenium after child-birth.

My Sister

Hates my hair. Well, not anymore. She hated the hair in the nablopomo photo. Last time I was in town she told me how much better she liked m hair when it was a bit longer. Today she told me the same thing again. She was nothing but positive. "I like your hair " she said, "I like it better a bit longer. It's very cute" If we'd only had the conversation once I would never have noticed.
It is lucky that I am not sensitive about such things and value my own oppinion of my hair style above that of others.
I agree with her though. The hair is better now. Bigger and better.

I was right

Tiny Boy was so extremely adorable in his photo ensemble. The turtle neck made him look almost chubby.

Almost

I only just made it today. I was on my way to bed when the husband reminded me about blogging.
But that's all you're going to get.
I'm done for the day.
Sleep is coming to get me.

Stubbley

My baby brother is all whiskered.
The odd thing about it is that he does not have man skin underneath. Man skin looks natural under a peppering of facial hair, like it all belongs there together on the man face.
The brother in question still has boy skin, it just grows whiskers now. They look oddly out of place sprouting out like that from the boy skin.
His twin does not have the same issue. I don't know if it's because he's not growing the face fuzz at the rate of his brother, or if he's just shaved more recently.

It's not even that cold, but...

When I left the airport yesterday and was embraced by the cold I came to realise that I had forgotten what it felt like.
I had forgotten the exhillaration of stepping out from the warmth to be intantaniousley enveloped by chill winds, creeping down my neck and up my sleeves.
Forgotten the sensation of drawing breath from frozen air, filling my lungs with winter
Forgotten it's touch on my skin.
I remember now.

triumph

I knew from the start that if I was going to miss a day of nablopomo today would be it.
Well take that! Here I am posting away!
The next really challenging day will be when ever we decide to drive home, along with all of the days between now and then.
I'll be back tomorrow with more riveting news.

gasp!

I sat down and began to work on one of the odds and ends projects I need to do today. A few stitches in I smelled a smell. A smoke smell. Could that be my sewing machine? My own dear Bernina?
After sniffing at it a few times the thought came to mind that my window was open and wouldn't it be likelier that the offending aroma was coming from the out of doors?
It was, and a good thing too because I have not a pair of long pants to wear on my journey north tomorrow unless I get 6 inches apiece hemmed off the two pair here beside me.
And so, I'll sew.

Gift Ideas

Stuff I'd appreciate receiving for Christmas

a laptop, an attractive one
a Bike in either pink or baby blue
a bike trailer for the young-uns, in a color to match the bike of course
a digital SLR
a jogging stroller, yes I know they have bike trailers that convert into jogging strollers but that's not the one I want, thank you very much.

I think I may be to blame for the rampant consumerism that grips the nation. Or I would be if I actually went out and bought all of these things.

Behold

The first patterned crotchet project I've ever completed.
I think I made a dish rag from a pattern when I first learned a few years back but someone else read the pattern to me and explained what to do so I don't count that.
I'm working on a puppy of my own design now and when that is done Baby Girl has requested kitties for herself and her friend. When that is done I'll probably be ready to hang up the hook for a spell.

my own brand of competition

I read Makayla's post about her boy's 3rd birthday and remembered the day I learned she was preggers. "when is she due?" I asked Cas "November, I think," "Good," I said, "then I am winning."
Yes folks, pregnancy is a race for me. Only if the pregnant parties in question are pregnant at the same time and said pregnancies overlap by at least 2 trimesters.
Generally when I think of competition or a person having a competitive nature, I think of sports or business. Since I am not particularly active in either of those fields I must not have much comepition running through my veins. Right?
No,I am competitive, I love to win, just not athletic events or business deals.
I'm more interested in unspoken competition. Of course there are the obvious ones like who's kids are cuter and who brought the best dish to the pot-luck. I eat those up. But there is more.
Who has the best shoes in the room? Who's baby has the best napping routine? Who reads parenting books and sticks to the council they read vs those who read and disregard and those who figure things out as they go along. (ironically, I, who hate to sew with a pattern because it makes me feel bossed, belong in the first category and feel like the winner for being there) Who is the more attractive half of the couple? Who has the most perfect lips? Who appears the most put-together when on the verge of collapse? Who is so on-top of things they never get within spitting distance of collapse? Who has the least kitschy decor in their house? Who knows the best places to Shop?
I could go on and on with pregnancy related competitions alone but I will spare you.

Lazy

I slept in until 8:00 this morning.
Husband was up at 3:00 dealing with vomit and crying. He is now, understandably, in bed while I stay up, counting my blessings.

On my mind

Next week we are doing family pictures with my family. All 10, yes 10, of my parents children together in the same place and time, dressed in coordinating clothing.
The guidelines for ensemble selection were "neutral colors" I couldn't make it on neutrals alone so I added orange and blue in to my little family's scheme. I based the whole thing around Tiny Boy's outfit which I already had.
I made Baby Girl's jumper yesterday. I was afraid it was too dressy for the rest of us but I think it works. More on that later.
Husband could use a shot of orange in his ensemble but he's not an orange liking fella so I don't think I could convince him to wear it. I do have more of the orange silk featured above as a scarf for Baby Girl. What do you think Husband? Orange silk neckerchief?






I made this valance a few months ago right before our open house. The window needed something so I looked through my stash, found those 2 browns and that's what I came up with.
My first love in this combo is the brown satin. It is so rich, I've never seen it's equal. There's just something about quality satin.
The other fabric is almost burlap, a really heavy, loose weave but a little smoother than burlap. The contrast with the smooth flawless satin is a dream. I loved it so much I decided to make a dress version.
I was planning on using the rustic fabric for the main body of the project and trimming it out in the satin the way I did on the valance, but I only had scraps of the burlap-esque, so I switched it. I didn't like the idea of the super simple shift-jumper I'd had in mind for the burlap in the satin so I tweaked, added pleats and came up with what you see in the photo.





I can't seem to convince Tiny Boy that he should sleep past 5:30 so I've been sleeping on the sofa while he plays until Baby Girl wakes up.
This morning I woke up from my snoozing to find him standing at the DVD player. He had the mallet in his hand, ready to either shove down his throat or poke out his eye, the ring in his mouth, and the earring in the DVD player.
He plays with the mallet all the time, loves to haul that thing around. I know it's not super safe but I let him do it when I'm watching because it's so cute and he likes it so much. But how to keep it from him when I'm not watching?
As for the jewelry, he climbed in the dress-up box before starting out on his voyage to the DVD player. I guess a card board dress-up box isn't exactly baby proof. Drat.

In oatmeal news, today's was creamy and delicious. I think the problem is pan size.I usually make it in a bigger pan so I don't have to worry about it boiling over. Today, Tiny was sleeping so I could pay it more attention and accordingly used the small pan that only just fits 2 servings of oatmeal. Problem solved. I just need a pan between the 2 sizes so I can make good oatmeal without having to watch so carefully to avoid spillage.

Today is fantastic. It is blustery and overcast. I very much want to go out for a run. Right now it's threatening to storm. I'd enjoy running in the wet but I don't think the offspring would. If it clears up a bit though, I'll have to go.

Baby Girl spies

Something pink with a heart and stars that floats in the air.




A ball that's white and yarny with a needle.

I am

A lurker.
I love to lurk. I hate when I happen upon a private blog or myspace page, even if it belongs to someone I know and could easily contact to request access. Because I love to lurk. I realize that if I really want to be part of the blogging community I will have to stop this. You can't make blog friends if no one knows you are there, but I just love to lurk.
I'm like that in person too. I'm more likely to listen to and observe others than start conversations of my own. I wouldn't call my self a bad conversationalist altogether, but I am a bad conversation starter.
One of the qualities I admire in others is the ability to get me talking. I have a friend who is marvellous at it. She asks questions and lets you answer them and still manages to get her share in. Besides all of that she remembers what you said and brings it up in future encounters. I would be like that is I could.
I am not shy. I was shy as a child so I know what shy feels like and I am not that any more. I love to speak in front of people. (unless I have to say anything that has to do with what I actually feel) Have a meeting that needs conducting? I'll do it. Need someone to stand up and represent your group in class? I'm all over that. Just don't ask me to carry on a conversation with a person without ample conversive fodder unless that person has the gift of conversation as outlined above.
The thing about lurking in cyberspace is, the really good conversationalists don't know you (not you specifically anyway) are there and can't ask you about your dog or your kids or your eating habits and get you talking so you can be friends. In this realm if I want friends I have to go out and get them.
Still, my security blanket of obscurity is very cozy, maybe I'll just snuggle up here in my closet and have a nice nap.

obsession

There is a recipe for turning a minor interest of mine into an obsession.
First of course there has to be that minor interest, then I have to think about that for a bit until it occurs to me that I should look online for the item of interest. After a google search or two I move on to ebay and then the process is complete. I have a new obsession.
The recent one is clogs for Baby Girl. I was thinking about winter foot wear for the child and remembered how cute the little girls in the Hanna Anderson catalogue are in their clogs. Then I thought about how I wouldn't spend that much money on children's shoes. Say, maybe I could find some on ebay! dun dun dun.
There is nothing in her size on Ebay, this does not stop me from bidding on 2 pair, one too small (I'll have more children, quite possibly another girl) and one too large, she is after all growing. Soon I find myself looking at the web site of a German shoe maker. Sure, these clogs are $40.00 on top of which I'll have to pay international shipping but now it's all worth it! I'd buy the Hanna's at this point if they had her size, but they don't. The German's don't make her size either. Apparently the one pair of size 4 clogs I found on ebay are the only pair in existence smaller than size 8.5 I need a 7.
What on earth will I do? How will I survive without clogs for my girl-child? I just don't know.

Dribbly boingy

It is trampoline season again. Yesterday I scrubbed off all the dust that accumulated on the pad over the summer so it doesn't turn the children black any more. It's a big improvement.
We had a family jump this afternoon. Tiny Boy isn't sure he likes it but he doesn't seem to dislike it so we'll keep bouncing him.
I challenged my self to a bum-a-war and did 50 consecutive bum jumps before declaring myself the winner.
In other news Baby Girl wiped her nose on my skirt today at church. My favorite skirt that I've only just gotten back into thanks to the 2 lbs I lost. (Hurrah only 7 more!)
She thought it was so clever that she pointed out the snot smears to me and proceeded to give my leg another swipe with her nose.
I couldn't do too much punishment wise sitting there in church. All I could manage was to make her sit on the other side of The Husband while I de-snotted myself with a baby wipe. Not the severest of punishments but it made her cry so I guess it had some effect.

Heaven help us

We have been working on teaching Baby Girl so spit out her tooth paste instead of swallowing it. In the mean time we have the fluoride free kind that is safe for little tummies.
So just now she finished brushing and leaned over to spit. "Good" I thought, "she remembered about spitting".
While hunched over the sink she noticed a bit of dried toothpaste stuck on the side of the sink. She picked it off and ate it, or as much of it as she could before I dove in there and knocked it from her wee hand.
I'm pretty sure she doesn't know what it means when I'm so disgusted I can't speak for shuddering. This is usually reserved for public restrooms but it does occasionally happen here at home.

crunchety

This morning my lawn looked like it was crunchy with frost. It wasn't of course, just wet from the sprinklers.
I always loved walking across the frosty lawn on my way to school, but only at the beginning of the season when the grass was still green and springy under it's icing. The cushiony crunch it made when stepped upon was a thrill and the foot prints left on perfectly frosted grass lovely. There would be only a slight difference from the lawn at large, but the diagonal path across the yard in the direction of the jr. high school would be clearly visible.
It's been years since I walked on grass like that.
Since I moved away from my parents house.
I cross my fingers for a frosty morning when I'm home for Thanksgiving.

Owleriffic

I am making a hat for my small boy, an owl hat.
I purchased the pattern today. It was difficult, I have a hard time with patterns but since I don't crochet well enough to make it without, I gave in and bought it. It is a good thing they took paypal. I never would have followed through on the purchase if I'd had to walk down stairs and get my wallet.
My yarn craft skills are sadly underdeveloped. My mother neither knits or crochets. She learned as a girl and can give advice to a beginner but she never did it when I was a child so I didn't learn it.
In the past few years I've learned to crochet dish rags and simple hats. I also knitted a trick or treat bag last year. I didn't use a pattern for any of these things though. This is new territory for me. I have to fight the hostile feelings I tend to get when given too specific instructions (You're not the boss of me!) and decipher the pattern all while making my fingers do things that have not yet reached the point of being second nature to my inexperienced, yarn starved hands.

I can't live without

Cocoa Butter
I recently lost 2 of them. It was rough but I got through.
Luckily I discovered a few months ago that Wal*Mart carries them in their trial size section. Until then I had to buy them when I was in Utah at one particular Rite Aid.
Either that, or have Cassandra buy and mail them to me as a requirement of best-friendship.
I'm down to one and a half. It makes me nervous to be so low. Like how people hoard food after they've been starved.
I've got to go to Wal*Mart.

Only, I'm the mom this time

As I stood at the stove stirring white sauce for dinner I glimpsed a flash of pink over the fence. I dashed for the camera and managed to catch some of the pink while I continued stirring. My favorite thing about the photo is, how it showcases the dirt splotches on my window.
I have not washed that window since I was Preggers.
With my daughter.
Who is three.
Dinner was comfort food. I wasn't in any especial need of comfort, that's just what I could do with what I had.
Ben's Best Casserole with peas and apple slices. Had it been on a square tupperware plate the childhood reenactment would have been complete.

Buried Talents

I used to make divine oatmeal.
It was creamy delicious.
I don't know how I did it, just that I can't do it any more.
When Baby Girl was was tiny-cakes and too hungry to wait for oatmeal to cook after she got up I started putting the oats and water together in the pot and leaving it on low while I got her up and changed. Thus my oatmeal talent was buried.
I realised at the time that the oatmeal I made that way wasn't as good, but it was better than fielding a hungry baby while I cooked it the good way, so I continued. When she got a bit older I went back to my old method, but something was missing. The creamy texture had gone. I don't know what I do differently, but my oatmeal is not what it was.
If I'd known this is what would happen I never would have compromised my standards.

Unicorn

I have a zit on my head the kind that has so much pressure built up within it's gnarly blemish soul, it gives you a head ache.
It is just above, and to the inside of my left eye brow. I might be able to disguise the redness with pounds of concealer but concealer will do nothing for 3 inches it protrudes from my head.
If it had only sprouted up last week I would have had a Halloween costume after all.

Happy Birthday!

My Girl turned 3 last week. We threw a party together 2 days in advance and it turned out surprisingly well. Especially the polly pocket princess cake which was pretty much the coolest cake a 3 year old girl ever had.
She has grown up quite a bit since turning 3. In her 10 days of official 3 year-old-hood she has started saying "breakfast" instead of "breatix", and answers "Three years old" when asked how old she is, her previous response was "my birthday is October".

I take a picture of her the minute she was born every year. This year I was watching TV and got distracted. I was 3 minutes late. So here she is 3 years and 3 minutes old.

To the tune of "Popcorn Popping"

I cleaned out the re-fridge and what did I find?
Caramel-ice-cream topping from two thousand and five
This cleaning thing brought me such a nice surprise
Mold spores growing right before my eyes
I could take a spoon full and make a treat,
an ice-cream sundae that would taste so neat
It wasn't actually moldy
but it seemed to me
a good idea to toss it 'fore it got to be

Yeah, so it was actually from Lily's birthday last year, but 2005 sounded better than six.
The mold in the ditty was growing on another, much newer inmate of the frigidare. To look at the topping one would have thought I'd purchased it yesterday.
I have no appreciation for caramel topping. My mother-in-law bought it while visiting for the aforementioned birthday. Since then, it has occupied the furthest corner of my fridge un-noticed by man or beast.

Cinderella and a little turtle

Monday was rough.
It was the neighborhood "Spooktacular", an event I look forward to very much because I am a costumer and accordingly Halloween is my favouite holiday.
Here's the story of the rough patch. I won't go into details of the whole day because it was a long one and probably not particularly interesting as it was pretty low drama until about 4:30.
So I had accomplished everything on my list for the day including the completion of 3 costumes, a trip to the airport, and a jaunt to Target. All that was left was to dress the children in their costumes and head to the party.
Baby Girl would not hold her head still to get her cinderella hair-do. She wanted to lean over the sink and get a drink, (thanks Grandma for teaching her that one!) This started my nerves a twitching.
Then we went down to my bathroom to apply her make-up. Cinderella wears make-up. More head moving ensued ,though it was not so bad considering we were not standing in front of the sink. The really tricky part was the clingy baby who had to sit in my lap during the entire process. I was doing pretty well at it until i had to answer the phone. That third task threw me out of whack and the tray of brushes and liners etc was dumped. Starting to get a little twitchier.
Called Husband to see when he'd be home. He was just down the road but traffic was backed up so it was going to be a while.
That blasted dog joins in the fray barking in just that way that makes me want to kick all 4.5 pounds of him across the room.
Then a miracle occurs. Both children playing happily in their room despite the stress radiating from my person.
After a few centering breaths in the newfound calm I take the costumes to the car to be donned upon arrival at the elementary school. The costumes are too voluminous to fit in car seats, and while the school is not far from the house by any means, I don't want to waste valuable energy walking to the party when we'll be walking the whole time we're there. Besides, it is getting a bit late. So late in fact Husband may actually be home in time to go with us. I call him. No, still stuck in traffic. considerably closer, but still stuck. He will meet us there.
A thought occurs to me, what time was I supposed to work in the popcorn booth? Was it 6:30-7:30 or 7:30? I rifle through the tower of junk on my junk collecting counter to find the random paper on which I wrote this, now vital, piece of information. 6:30. It is now 6:10. I begin to rush again. I am yelling at the dog, I am yelling to Baby Girl to hurry so we can go to the party, I am trying to find my damn shoes!
Baby Girl slips as she is climbing the baby gate that keeps the carpeted area of my home free of dog excrement. She dislocated her wrist. Again.
"It's ok," I tell her "Dr Tim (our friendly neighborhood chiropractor) will probably be at the party" She is crying. She doesn't want to go. I am crying too "we have to go they are expecting me at the popcorn booth!" besides(this part to myself) I worked too hard on that Cinderella gown not to have it win a prize in the costume contest!
As I am buckling kids I hear the announcer from the party. (I told you the school is not far) all I caught was "costume contest" Slam the car door and scream. Cry until I realize that my own friend is running the contest and I have her child's costume with me so I can't have missed it, she would have called! This knowledge helps me pull myself together. She did call, I had not missed the contest but the 0-2 category was about to start so I had better hurry.
We got there and dressed quite quickly. baby Girl wouldn't walk. "can't walk, my wrist hurts" so I carried her. I am shaking all over by this time, trying not to look it though, no one likes to have a panic attack in front of their friends and neighbors.
We got to skip the line so I could get to the popcorn booth. I deposited my turtle and the snail costume at the contest with the snail's mother.
Another friend took Baby Girl (cradling her hurt wrist in her good hand) with her, I think she could see me shaking.
At the popcorn booth I guess I was still shaking because they said they were fine, go calm down. So I went to the contest. Turtle baby didn't win but snail did, "most creative" they said. Not a real win for me because while I did make the snail costume, the idea was not mine.
I sat there smugly thinking "why do people even bother entering costumes they bought for $9.99 at Wal*Mart? There's no way they'll win"
I was going for "best look-alike" in Baby GIrl's age category. Guess who got it. that's right, a $9.99 transformer from Wal*Mart. I suppose I should learn not to judge.
Yesterday while I was getting everybody costumed up my poor girl kept saying "Don't cry mom, and don't make loud noises that scare me" Sorry Baby.

P.S. I didn't get any really great photos of Tiny Boy on my own camera. Other people have some, when I get, I will post. Also I don't know how to rotate the photos that are sideways. They are right on my compy but sideways on the blog. That is what husbands are for. I'll ask him to fix it later.

Is this the laundry room?

Dirty

















Clean

I have never done so much laundry in one day as I did when we got back from the camping trip. And it was a Sunday too.
Everything was slightly damp and sandy. That is to say, everything except the things that were very damp and sandy.
Altogether a delight.
I washed it all in one day. The next day I folded. It took an hour and a half of constant folding with the baby napping and no TV on to distract.