Notes from a Scattered Mind

Five Things on Friday - Things I Didn't Say Edition

2012-01-27T15:17:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, the only way I know that I am a good person is because there are things I think - but don't say. Otherwise, I could be Satan in disguise. Or a Kardashian. Whichever.

In either case, I thought I would share

Five Things that I Thought But Didn't Say This Week

1. O Rly - I have tried, like really made an effort, tried to look nice every day this week. I have put on nice clothes and jewelry and brushed my hair before I got to work. I have tried to color coordinate and accessorize and even wear some tinted chapstick. I have done this because I have this theory about looking good and feeling good and making good choices all sort of being related and I'm trying that out. The point is - I've been trying. Except today, I woke up feeling like dirt and threw on some jeans who have questionable cred in the cleanliness department and an old sweatshirt that I typically save for Saturdays when I'm not going anywhere. My boss walked in this morning and said, "Oh! Don't you look nice in your teal." I wanted to say, "You're clearly either delusional or a liar." But I didn't.

2. I Like My Space - We all went out for a birthday lunch yesterday and while some of the girls were parking the car, two of us walked into the restaurant. After being vaguely waved at to find our own seat, we chose a nice table by the window with six seats. The waitress ambled over with a water pitcher and asked us if we were expecting any more. I wanted to say, "No, I'm claustrophobic and must sit at a table with at least four empty seats. Or I start screaming obscenities." But I didn't.

3. Oh, Me Too - After we left, while we were walking back to the cars, one of my coworkers said, "Well, that was filling. I don't guess I'll have to eat dinner." I wanted to say, "It must be nice to be so skinny AND not have to feed children no matter what AND be able to casually lord it over everyone else." But I didn't.

4. Pants You - Bob and I had a miscommunication about whether I was picking up the kids or he was dropping them off. Normal stuff. I apologized (because I'm nice) and said, "I should have communicated my plans better." His response: "Yeah, wouldda been nice." I can't tell you the things I wanted to say, but they involved a lot of pants. But I didn't.

5. Liar - We waited for an hour and a half before I asked at the desk when, exactly, the neurologist would see us. "Oh, any second now, your appointment wasn't until two..." I wanted to say, "You lost us. You lost my kid on her first visit to the big scary doctor and now you're lying about the time of my appointment, as if I didn't confirm it with you yesterday. You, sir, and your whole office of insanity suck pants." But I didn't.

Because I'm a lady, dammit.

Share something you didn't say. It's therapeutic.

Conversations with a Seven Year Old - MRI Day Edition

2012-01-25T14:05:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, Brynna went for an MRI and a visit to the neurologist. We were dealing with her ongoing migraine issues (which, according to the pediatric neurologist, are not all that uncommon in seven year olds - who knew). The good news is that she seems to fine, in that there are no tumors and the migraines, while a total pain, could be much worse. (The bad news is that we spent $1,000 to find out that we are handling things the right way and no course corrections are needed. Huzzah.)

It never occurred to me that this would be comedy gold, but it was. Here are a few snippets.

The night before, I was explaining the process in the car.* Maren started freaking out. Ten minutes later, I was just repeating the same explanations and calming words I'd be saying and still getting nowhere.

Maren: Mommy, mommy, don't let them put Brynna in a tube. Please, that would be very bad. She will be scared.

Me: I'll be there if she gets scared and the tube isn't scary.

Maren: No, tubes are very scary and you can't let her go. Please, I want my sister to stay with me and not go in the tube.

Me: It's not scary. It's just like the tunnels on the base at MiMi's house. She'll be okay and I'll be with her.

Brynna: Listen, It'll be professionals. I'll be fine. It's not like these people didn't listen in college. Of course they did! They're professionals.**
_______________________________________

When we were getting ready for the MRI, the tech was explaining what would happen and what Brynna needed to know.

Tech: Okay, so it's going to be really loud, so I'm going to give you some earplugs. I'm going to let your mommy put them in because they feel kind of weird. Have you ever worn ear plugs before?

Brynna: Yes, I wear ear plugs when I shoot guns.***
_______________________________________

Finally, at the neurologist's office, we were answering questions.

Dr. J: So, is she physically developing normally? She can run, jump, climb, skip, ride a bike?

Me: She can't ride a bike.

Dr. J: Why not?

Me: shrugs I don't know. She won't let me take the training wheels off.

Brynna: Because it's scary.

Dr. J: It's not that scary. You wear a helmet, that makes it not scary. You wear a helmet, right?

Brynna: Not so much.****

* I tend to think that it works better if I explain everything and give her a chance to deal with it on her own. Note to self - in the car with Maren, not on her own.

** I ended up telling Maren that I had fixed it and they weren't going to put Brynna in a tube. They were going to put her in a cylinder which is clearly less scary. She was strangely fine with this. The power of the synonym.

*** For the record, she's only "shot guns" once, under adult supervision. She wants to turkey hunt, which is fine by me. It's just not something she does all casually all the time like she made it sound.

**** For the other record, she wears her helmet when she is on her bike or her scooter and off of the deck. I don't see the point in making her wear it on the deck. She can't build up speed and the fall isn't that far. If she falls off the deck, that flimsy little Hannah Montana helmet isn't going to be all that much help.

Five Things on Friday - Read This Edition

2012-01-20T15:36:00.000-05:00

Every once in a while, I read a book that just really sticks with me, gets under my skin and makes me want to share it with everyone I meet. Okay, maybe it's not all that uncommon and I do it all the time. What's your point?

In any case, here are:

Five Books You Should Probably Just Read

1. Feed, by Mira Grant - This is maybe one of the best zombie novels I've ever read. Why? Well, mostly because it's not about the zombies. See, here's the thing about zombies: they are, in essence, sort of boring. They are really a portrayal of universal human fears (loss of self, technology, big government, etc, etc.), but basically they are shambling shells who want to eat you. They aren't particularly smart or savvy. Which means that zombie books have got to deal with bigger, human questions. Feed is really about politics and scandal and journalism. But it's so much better than that. It's about truth, no, sorry, it's about Truth and Justice. And also, zombies. Aaaand, it's not about a world destroyed by zombies but a world adapted to zombies. Which is sort of fresh and interesting.

2. Come and Go Molly Snow by Mary Ann Taylor-Hall - Come and Go Molly Snow is about woman dealing with the loss of her child and the loss of her one true love, her music. It's haunting and lyrical and lovely. It's set in Kentucky, which buys it bonus points in my book. Dealing with the Bluegrass music industry and culture, it is never insulting, always insightful and again - just plain lovely.

3. Kimmie 66 by Aaron Alexovich - I've decided to read all the non-super-hero graphic novels at my local library. Don't worry, there aren't many. They are really nice to read between books, though, because you can read the whole book in one sitting and they are, generally, kind of weird. Kimmie 66 is about a girl trying to uncover the secret of her best friend's (who she's never met in person) suicide. It's twisty and turny and the main character, Telly, is enchantingly cute, while trying desperately hard to never be cute. It's not rocket surgery, but it is fun and enjoyable.

4. Under the Dome by Stephen King - You know, ever since Mr. King "retired," I love every book more than the last. Possibly because I worry that it will be the last. In any case, Under the Dome is the tale of what happens in a small Maine town when an impenetrable dome pops into place around the borders. Those who are in - are in, including some children whose parents ran out for supplies and those who are out - are out. There's some really interesting stuff here about small-town politics and religion. But what I loved best is the story of the town kids. Like It, the adults are too busy worrying with whatever it is that adults worry about and the kids are the ones fighting the good fight. It's epic and long, but very, very worth it.

5. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card - I like to throw in an oldie to these lists. If you've never read it, Ender's Game, the novel that launched at least two full series, is the story of brilliant little boy who becomes the chosen one to lead the entire Earth against some (possibly) hostile aliens. The story of Ender is complex and beautiful and speaks to what happens when you mix child-like focus and determination and grown-up politics and ruthlessness. It's also a great book about world government and why and how and will it work.

All of these books are stories that I find myself pondering fresh in the dead of night. You need those in life. Things to ponder when the lights are out and there's nothing on TV and you still can't sleep. Something to wrap your head around and wonder about. I recommend any and all of them to anyone over the age of consent.

Now it's your turn. What book is rattling around in your head? It doesn't matter if you read it last month or last decade, tell me what pushes your buttons.

Word of the Year - ASK

2012-01-17T16:39:00.000-05:00

I've been reading a lot of "Word of the Year" posts. (If you are unfamiliar with this concept, it's basically a replacement for the New Year's Resolution. You choose a word to be your guiding principle for the year ahead. Then, I'm assuming, you forget it before February and revert to your old ways of slobby, stingy, status quo-ness. Because that's what we always did with resolutions, right?)

I've been reading about how people are going to strive to GIVE more or ENJOY more or look UP. And I've been thinking about what I want out of this year. What I want is to GET IT TOGETHER but I'm not sure that's one word or that inspirational. And then it occurred to me.

What I need is to ask.

Here's the thing. I hate to ask. For anything. I will sit at the table miserable for twenty minutes instead of just asking someone to pass the pantsing butter. Imagine what happens when I need something big.

(It's been pointed out to me that perhaps I am sabataging myself by not asking for help and then berating myself when I fail. To that I say, "Um, who, me?")

It's a thing with me. I don't want to be weak. I don't want need help. Which is just plain ridiculous, because 1.) I love to help. Ask me for help. I almost never say no (something else I need to work on) and 2.) Everyone needs help, and 3.) C'mon. Look at me. Clearly I need help. I'm the girl in dress pants and white tennis shoes with mayonaise stains all the way down her outfit who can't remember if she brushed her hair this morning. Help-needing should be a foregone conclusion.

So, this year, I pledge to my self (an no one else, because February is coming fast) to ask for what I need. People may say no and they may think I am a useless hoser who can't take care of herself, but I guess that's part of it, isn't it: Finding out who you can ask.

What about you? What's your word of the year?

Conversations with a Three Year Old - Boy Names Edition

2012-01-16T15:37:00.000-05:00

This weekend, we had planned a Saturday night movie night. The kids and I were in the car, headed home and discussing movie choice. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe came up and a discussion ensued about the scariness of the movie.

Maren: I don't think witches are scary. They ride on brooms and that's silly.

Me: This isn't a broom riding witch.

Maren: But witches ride brooms.

Me: Yeah, but this witch doesn't ride a broom, she has a sleigh and some horses.

Maren: But, I love horses. Horses are my friend. Why would she slay horses.*
________________________________

Last night, I was watching Zombieland after the kids went to bed. Maren came out of her room.

Maren: I want to sleep with you.

Me: Sorry, baby. I'm watching a scary movie, you'll have to sleep in your bed.

Maren: My bed is boring. And I like scary movies.

Me: This is a really scary movie - with zombies.

Maren: Fine! But I'm not going to sleep. Every again!**
_________________________________

This morning, we were lying in bed, watching a marathon of Top Gear.

Me: See that car, Maren.

Maren: Yeah. It's pretty.

Me: I want one of those.

Maren: Can I buy one when I'm bigger? Peas, peas, peas??

Me: Well, that's the thing about being bigger. You decide how to spend your money.

Maren: I'm going to get one for me and my baby. I'm going to have a boy baby.

Me: Really? What are you going to name your boy baby?

Maren: Sally.

Me: Sally?

Maren: Yeah, but I'm going to call him Gingerbread.*** And I'm going to say, "I love you so much Gingerbread."

*I feel sure that my three year old is more familiar with the word slay than the word sleigh is a sure sign of something. My awesomeness or abject failure? I'm not sure.

**I'm pretty sure she only lasted about three minutes after this dramatic proclamation.

***I'm not sure what I like better, that Sally is now a boy's name or that Gingerbread is somehow short for Sally.

Five Things on Friday - No Apologies Edition

2012-01-13T16:32:00.002-05:00

What else should I be?

There seems to be trend about saying, "Hey, I'm not apologizing for this..." and while I like to think of myself as a nonconformist, I'm really just a child of the '90's, in my friend G's words, "Trying to be different in exactly the same way as everyone else."

Here are:

5 Things For Which I Refuse to Apologize:

1. Not making any sense - I mean this in any way you can interpret it. Sometimes I say things like, "I wish I could cuss in Chinese," or "I guess I forgot how to be cold." I know that these things probably don't make any sense to you. It's okay. They make sense to me. Sometimes I go the long way home when I don't need to. Sometimes I stay late at work by 15 minutes because I like the quiet. Sometimes I eat Cheerios and pickles for supper. Get over it.

2. Feeling my feelings - I feel like no matter what I feel, it's not really "allowed." I can't be happy or I'm in denial, I can't be sad or I'm not coping, I can't be mad or, well, there's no or, I'm just a good girl and I'm not supposed to get mad. Pants that. I am all of those things and I will make an effort not to be a jerk about what I'm feeling (like I won't sing "Zip-a-de-doo-dah" at a funeral) but I'm just gonna go with whatever I'm feeling whenever I'm feeling it. Judge away. Just know that I do not care.

3. Being weird - People are complex. It's just the way it is. I can be girly and geeky and sociable and introverted all at the same time. You don't have to like me. (This has traditionally been hard for me because I want everyone to like me.) But you don't. You just have to accept that this is the me that I am. Like me for who I am or get out of my way.

4. Thinking my kids are better than yours - Here's the thing. I hate the comparing the kids game. You know the one. The one where you say, "Oh, little Seraphina has been walking since she was 8 weeks old," and then I say, "Well, Brynna didn't walk until her first birthday but that's because she was composing classical music when she was 3 months old." It's a crappy game that no one wins and it makes everyone stress and wonder if their kids are normal. However, I know, in my heart of hearts, that you think your kid is better than mine. That's okay. It's just the way it is. I think my kids is better than yours. And if you insist on playing that pantsing game, I will win. Because my kids are geniuses.

5. Eating - Hi, my name is Jessi and I'm a big girl. And as a big girl, I am supposed to be sorry about eating. I'm supposed to order Diet Coke and never, ever, EVER eat dessert in public. Whatever. I eat. You deal. And quit looking at me like that. You're just jealous that you aren't eating Chimi-cheesecake. With a giant margarita. Aren't you?

What about you? Done apologizing for anything?

Life Bankruptcy

2012-01-05T14:22:00.000-05:00

So, I sometimes read The Frugal Girl, despite being ridiculously un-frugal. I guess I read it because I think I want to be frugal and then I think, "Oh my goodness - who does that?!?" Although, in my defense, I made my own laundry detergent last week. That's right. Made my own laundry detergent. It smells like heaven, although that smell doesn't seem to transfer to the clothes. They just smell clean. Not clean and heavenly.

In any case, yesterday she was writing about cleaning out her fridge and said that it was like "declaring food waste bankruptcy, and you can have a fresh, clean start."

I love this idea.

Can I declare time bankruptcy and just quit everything and start adding things back in as I deem necessary/fun?

How about basement bankruptcy?

Or work bankruptcy? Can someone just come and clean off my desk so I can start over?

For the past 24 hours, I have wandered around looking at the mess that is my life and trying to devise ways to declare bankruptcy over it all. Get it out and start fresh. That's what I want. That's what I need.

Of course, just like real bankruptcy, it's a lot of work and worry and stress. But I think it may be worth it.

I mean, really. My Christmas tree is still up. Mostly so that I can keep shoving toys under it rather than finding a new home for them all. My kitchen is crowded with dirty dishes and canned goods that don't fit in the cabinet that is obviously too small for my canned goods, but where I insist they must go. My bedroom has no floor. At least I assume it doesn't because it's been so long since I've seen it. And I'm never home to do anything about any of this.

And when I am, I can't get motivated because it's all so overwhelming.

And there's the rub. I am overwhelmed. So overwhelmed that the work it takes to declare Life Bankruptcy seems like too much to tackle. But maybe I'm just thinking too big. Maybe I need to start with something like Junk Drawer Bankruptcy. Bill Basket Bankruptcy. Spice Cabinet Bankruptcy. Kitchen Counter Bankruptcy. Crochet Pattern Bankruptcy.

Get it out. Start fresh.

What about you? Yearning to declare bankruptcy over something?

Welcome to 2012- The Year I Totally Wear Hats to Work

2012-01-03T16:38:00.001-05:00

As you may have noticed, last year, wasn't my year.

From my failure to get educated, to my separation, to my failure to keep even one of my amazing 36 resolutions, to my general malaise with the world... 2011 sucked.

I've got a good feeling about this year. 2012 is totally going to be my year.

Proof positive - I wore a hat to work.

I don't know why that is proof of anything, but there you have it. I was cold, I had bad hair, I wore a hat to work and no one laughed at me and I didn't die.

2012 - here come me and my hat.

A Christmastime Meme

2011-12-21T10:42:00.000-05:00

I've been slackin'. Mostly because I've just been swamped, but I like to think that is no excuse, so today I post! Today, I post a meme, though, because I'm still slackin'. I'm stealing this from Jen O. She stole it too. I think anyone can steal it now.

1. The Christmas song I can listen to even in June is:
You know, I love Christmas music, so this is a hard question. I really like "Sleigh Ride" and "Carole of the Bells," but honestly, the winner in my book is "River," by Joni Mitchell. I'm not sure what makes this song so magical to me, but I will totally pull out the CD and listen to it randomly throughout the year. Of course, I'm not sure that "River" is what you would call a traditional holiday song. But whatevs. It says Christmas.

2. Hot chocolate, eggnog or mulled wine?
Hot chocolate. Hot chocolate is actually one of my favorite things about Christmas. Understand, I drink it all the time, but I'm justified in drinking it at Christmas. Also, you can only make it with milk. No water shall touch my hot chocolately goodness.Also, spiked hot apple cider. Mmmmm.

3. When do you put up your Christmas decorations?
We put ours up the weekend after Thanksgiving. Saturday or Sunday depending on our schedule. Friday is for shopping and the rest of the weekend is for decking the halls. Of course, since the empty boxes are still in my hallway, apparently the time for carting boxes downstairs is the weekend before Christmas. This month has just flown by, people.

4. What are you having for Christmas dinner?
We don't really "do" Christmas dinner. We eat all day. We have sandwiches and soup and veggie tray and pico de gallo, because we lurve pico and it's just hanging out in the kitchen. We play with presents and watch movies and laugh and joke and hang out and just eat whenever we feel like it.

5. What’s your favorite Christmas tradition?
Reading The Night Before Christmas with the Girls. They sleep together on Christmas Eve and we read the story and put out snacks for Santa and all is right with the world.

6. Have you ever gone carol singing?
Once, when I was in middle school. Brynna wants to do it, so maybe next year?

Virginia

7. When did you discover the truth about Santa?
What truth? The truth that Santa is the embodiment of magic and wonder and goodness? I believe Mr. Church and The Sun. "No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood." Like Virginia, I believe.

8. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?We have a colored light tree that's filled to brimming with all the ornaments that the girls have made, kept and remember. Almost everything on there has a story. I hope that one day I'll be able to have two trees and one of them will be a fancy, color-coordinated tree - but it's not worth giving up my messy, crazy tree.

9. What’s the best thing about Christmas?
5 a.m. You might hear me complain about getting up early all other 364 days of the year, but Christmas morning is all about bleary eyes and shuffling gates and the sheer and utter glory of waking up to magic, twinkling lights and the knowledge that amazing things happen when you aren't looking.

10. All I want for Christmas is:I suppose I should say World Peace, but I'm just working on my house right now. When I accomplish peace in my house, I'll start working on the planet.

What about you? Care to join in?

It's the End of the World as We Know It

2011-12-15T16:11:00.000-05:00

No really.

See, about ten to twelve years ago, I used to start Christmas shopping in January. That's right, January. I would make my list and pick a couple of people for each month and buy ahead. That way, I wasn't stressed in December! And I had plenty of extra cash to spend on decorating! And Christmas traditions! And fancy cooking!

Then, I had kids. Almost immediately, that ended.

But still, I finished up on Black Friday. For the past six Christmases, with the exception of those people you never remember (Oh, hi. Yeah, I forgot that I knew people at work. Really, we do gifts. Um... I'm Jewish? Oh, I talk about church a lot. Well, um. The presents, they are in my car. I'll just go out and get them. I'll be back in about an hour.) I was always done by noon on Black Friday.

This year, I started on Black Friday and today, today is my last paycheck between now and Christmas and I have approximately 19,000 gifts left to buy. I should make a list. But I'm afraid I'd throw up.

In the meantime, I have decided not to do Christmas cards, because, well, bwahahaha.

I just spent a little over an hour trying to spend a gift card online. I finally finished but not before calling in a favor from the woman who works down the hall from my mother. Because that's how desperate I've gotten.

I used to sit back in late November, wrapping my presents and feeling superior and swear that the world would end before I was one of those schmoe's in Wal-Mart on Christmas Eve. I may miss that fate this year, but at the rate I'm going, it's going to be soon. I'd be makin' my peace if I were you.

A Few Random Notes Regarding My Stats

2011-12-13T14:29:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, for fun, I look at my stats. And sometimes, I am totally blown away by what I discover.

For instance, my most viewed page ever is Five Things on Friday - Driving in the South Edition. By a lot.

Also filling me with hilarity is my keyword analysis. This is where I find out what weird thing you guys have Googled to find me. So, number one is "driving hand signals," which I guess is why that whole driving in the south thing is so popular. But number two is "subway." Really? And, my favorite, number five is "people getting eaten by sharks."

I don't remember writing about people getting eaten by sharks, but welcome, shark eating aficionados.

Also, some of you are accessing me through Linux systems. Shout out. Because I don't use Linux, but it's just because I'm too lazy.

The Things at Which I am Just Not Good

2011-12-12T15:31:00.000-05:00

My mom is a crafter. She is a much more experienced, talented and intuitive crafter than I. She is my own personal advice column when I run into a problem, can't figure out how something is done or am just plain stuck. The thing about my mom, though, is that she has the perfect combo of being naturally good at just about everything and years and years of practice, with patience added in for heft.

I am not that person. To some degree, I have an "eye," in that I can look at things and see the basic outline of how they came to be. I can make a materials list. I can take your tutorial you've published on the web and tweak it so it fits my needs or envision using your basic methodology for a completely different outcome.

What I can't do is tell you whether or not I can do it.

I see, I want, I plot, I attempt.

That's pretty much the extent of my skill level thought process, which is to say - none at all.

Sometimes, it turns out marvelously, and sometimes, it turns out disastrously.

Most often, it's sort of in the middle. Like this weekend. Among other crafts that I can't share until after Christmas, I worked on composition book covers.

See, I always carry a composition book and I had this idea that I would make covers and give them to the kids in my family. They would be inexpensive, too cute for words (with giant appliqued initials) and oh-so-useful for note writing, doodling and staying quiet in the car. I had big plans, I did.

And fabric. Lots of fabric. And I got down to business. After consulting my mom (ie the Encyclopedia Craftania) I got down to work. About two hours later, I had a completed composition book cover. And, meh.

See, I'm not good at precise - especially precise seam allowances - just not my thing and the cover is just a smidge tight, which means it holds the cover open a bit. Also, I didn't think about the part that goes under the spine and how to make that not poke up - so poke it does.

And here's the thing - it's fine. It's fine. I put my notebook in it and hated it at first, because at first, I hate all my crafts. They grow on me. And so did this one and it's fine. For my notebook. I'm not going to inflict this on anyone else. And it's no where in the general vicinity as professional. If professional is New York, and crappy is LA, this is Centralia, Missouri. Just - somewhere in the middle.

What I learned from this is that this is the kind of project at which I don't have much talent - precision, measuring, cutting once, sewing. It's not my strong suit. So, okay, if composition book covers would stop the zombie apocalypse, I could cover some comp books. Otherwise, I think I'll find something else to make (or buy, because DECEMBER 12) those pesky kids.

I'm telling you all this because sometimes when I read craft blogs, I feel this desperate sense of I'll-never-be-that-good. I look at things and think, "I could never, ever, ever in a million years do that." And sometimes I'm right, but more often than not - I'm dead wrong.

Because I could do that if I had worked at it as long and hard as they have. The thing that makes crafting so much fun for me is that is a constant learning curve. You will never be an expert in all the things. It's not about talent, it's about work. It's about knowing how much you want to put in and doing it.

If you want to make something, you'll never know if you can until you try.

And as for my notebooks, I just don't love them enough, but I know that if I wanted to get good at this, I could. It is not impossible or even improbable, it's just a lack of practice. And at least I gave it a shot.

Five Things on Friday - Geek Gift Edition

2011-12-09T09:51:00.001-05:00

'Tis the season. The season for everyone and their little sister Suzy to post a gift giving guide. And who I am to break with tradition?

Here's the thing: while I love to read those guides and drool excessively over them, I always wonder who the pants they think their audience is. Gifts tend to range from $50 up to the hundreds and frankly, if I love someone enough to spend $50 of my hard earned cash on them, I probably don't need your pantsing gift guide to give me ideas.

So, rest assured, the top gift in this list is $18.95. That's right, less than twenty buckaroos buys you the eternal appreciation of a severely under-appreciated geek in your life.

Because what non-geek out there doesn't need a little help buying for the geeks in their lives? None that I've ever met. So, I present to you...

Five Awesome Geek Gifts for Under $20

Photo courtesy of Foxwise.

1. For the Harry Potter geek - This Harry Potter keychain from Foxwise is too cute. For those of you who don't know, in the HP universe, Accio is the spell used to bring something to you. Clever, huh? This is even made to order, so you could get a different font, text, or designs. Be sure to check out the other items in the shop, as there are plenty of great items for a geek - especially a Potter geek in there. Keychains, bracelets, rings, etc. all with the ability to change the quote. So really, this is great for any geek, because it's so customizable. The keychain pictured here is $9.95. Which I think is a pretty spiffy little bargain.

Photo courtesy of geekdetails

2. For the Firefly geek - I just about died when I first saw this very, very cool Leaf on the Wind Plate by Geek Details. I don't know if this is universal, but I love an inside joke. There are plenty of people in the world who would never give this plate a second glance. Leaves, whatever. But those of us who religiously re-watch Firefly and its follow-up movie, Serenity know that these are the sweet and sad last words of our beloved Wash. Geekdetails has a plethora of "altered" china items. I lurve the teacups. Especially the Alice in Wonderland teacups. And if you are looking for something a less of a commitment than this $18 plate of awesome, there are lovely buttons for as low as $1.50. Beware, though, not all of these items are safe for work or kids. You've been warned.

Photo courtesy of Pretty Whimsical

3.For the literary geek - I fell in love with Pretty Whimsical a few months ago over her "Team Bennet" scrabble tile necklace. It doesn't hurt that there are about a million of these puppies to appeal to everyone from Brynna to my college lit professor. And since most of them weigh in at the low-low price of $7.95, you can probably afford to stock up. This "Nevermore" pendant is an obvious, but still pretty reference to "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe. Not a fan of Poe? Browse around the rest of her shop where you'll find anything from Doctor Who to It's a Wonderful Life to Pride and Prejudice to kittens in Santa hats. You can also pick up the chain to go with your pendant from her for as little as $3.

Photo courtesy of weelittlestitches

4.For the Buffy geek - The bad news is that you are going to need some time to get this one done as it's a pdf of a cross stitch pattern. The good news is that the Buffy the Vampire Slayer geek in your life will faint over the coolness of this Pixel People pattern. And at only $6, it's practically a steal. The seller, weelittlestitches assures everyone that this is a great pattern for beginners, too, so lack of experience really isn't an excuse. And if Buffy isn't the slayer for you, there's plenty more to choose from, like all twelve Doctors; Harry, Ron and Hermione; and the Breakfast Club. I especially like The Big Bang Theory gang.

Photo courtesy of piper and rory

5. For the Doctor Who geek - I know you probably can't read what the bracelet from piper and rory says, so here it tis: "Are they all like this? Like what? So much bigger on the inside." This is quote from "The Doctor's Wife" which (bonus geek points) was penned by none other than Neil Gaiman. It send cold chills through me every time I hear it and I can't help but hear it in her voice. *sigh* In any case, it's a lovely aluminum alloy bracelet that comes in three sizes for only $5. And, as always, check out the rest of the cool items in piper and rory's shop. There are also some very nice Harry Potter and Shakespeare items hanging out in there.

You may have noticed that all these gifts hail from Etsy.com. There are a couple of reasons for that: I like to support small business people and nobody knows geeks like geeks. While there are t-shirts and the like to be found elsewhere, Etsy is really your spot for geeking it up. Trust me.

Also, official disclosure time: I am not affiliated in any way with any of the sellers mentioned above or Etsy in general. I did not receive any compensation for this post. These people do not know me and I do not know them. If I developed a sudden hunger for brains, they would all be concerned about the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, but none of them would be concerned that I was patient zero. That is all.

So, what ideas do you have for gifts of the geeky variety? Or are you just lost as to what geeks love? Have an idea of something I missed? Chime in, please. My self esteem requires your constant attention.

A Facelift

2011-12-08T10:02:00.001-05:00

(And, no, I'm not talking nose job, here, but still, it hurts. It hurts so much.)

Did you notice? Every year, I swear I am going to wait until New Year's for my annual facelift and every year I fail.

I think this one is particularly spiffy, though.

I'm looking for input of course. How do you like it? Is there anything hard to read? Anything you can't find? Etc. etc?

I am also thinking of adding an About Me or FAQ page. Of course, no one ever asks me anything, but I feel like there should be a place for something more, shall we say, descriptive... Let me know what you think - if you have a preference and ask me some questions for the love of pants.

(Have I mentioned that I've decided to replace all my commonly used cusswords with pants? For the love of pants; What the pants; mother pantser, son of pants. I think it'll be fun.)

More later, my darlings.

Eulogy for a Book Club

2011-12-07T09:57:00.001-05:00

Pain is just a sign that you are alive and today I am alive.

It seems like only yesterday that a small group of women, unhappy in their work and sharing a passion for reading met in a small dark pub. We cozied up on the massive couches and split a few appetizers and drinks and discussed Reading Lolita in Tehran, one of the few nonfiction books I've ever truly enjoyed. I left that restaurant feeling renewed and revived, like there was a whole new joy in my life - and there was.

Bookclub quickly became my favorite day of the month, I would wait for it with bated breath and think about it constantly. Slowly, our members began to leave our place of employment, but we soldiered on, moving our meetings to each other's houses and adding new members, even a couple of guys.

And through the next five years, it grew into more than just talking about books and having a few drinks. It became a night of friendship and laughter and just being who I was. There was no pretension, no imagineering a new personality. I was simply me, doing my favorite thing - talking about books.

And now, my favorite day on the calendar has died a tragic death of disinterest. It's hard to take in and admit. Bookclub is gone. My evenings of fun and frivolity are gone. White wine and books I'd never read on my own are a thing of the past.

To my bookclub friends, I love you and will miss you. I hope that we may stay in touch because even though our love of literature brought us together, I believe that through the years we found more common ground that we could have ever imagined.

Bookclub, I love you. I miss you. You have graced my life more than you will ever know.

Conversations with a Seven Year Old - Witch Edition

2011-12-06T15:28:00.001-05:00

At the parade: Me, Brynna, Maren and
Drowning Victim Barbie

So, we're in the car this weekend, heading out to the Christmas parade, which was awesomeness by the way, and I'm telling my mom and Uncle D's girlfriend a story and the following conversation occurred:

Me:... So, this dog is totally terrified of me and I have no idea why. I'm nice to dogs in general and I've never tried to freak this one out.

Brynna: Maybe it thinks you're a witch.

Me: ... Sure. Maybe.

Brynna: 'Cause you have black hair like a witch. And the way you laugh, it's kinda like a cackle.

Me: Cackling Well, yeah, there's that.

Brynna: And you have a pointy nose like a witch.

Me: Yeah, I... WHAT?!?

Apparently, I am okay with laughing like a witch and having witchy hair, even with the whole idea that strange dogs might confuse me with witches, but back up, little girl, did you just insult my nose?!?

I'm not sure what's most disturbing, that she thinks that or that I'm that upset by it. But anyone who knows a good cosmetic surgeon should let me know.
____________________________

Later on, after the parade and dinner and everything, on the way home, Brynna was chattering to herself in the backseat. Maren was clearly asleep and I was desperate to keep myself awake.

Me: Whatcha talkin' about back there.

Brynna: I'm not really talking to you.

Me: I know, I'm just wondering what you're doing.

Brynna: Playing.

Me: Playing what?

Brynna: You know, that's kinda the point of sitting in the back seat. So I don't have to talk to you about every little thing.

Me: Oh.

And then, when I was putting the girls to bed:

Brynna: Are you coming to tuck me in?

Me: Of course I am.

Brynna: 'Cause you better hurry, I'm very tired.

Me: Five minutes, I promise. I need to read a story to Maren and I'll be right in.

Brynna: Okay, but I can't promise I'm gonna wait up. I might fall asleep.

Me: That's okay, I guess.

I think my usefulness is being phased out. Thank goodness I still feed her and check her homework, otherwise I'd be totally useless.

A One, A Two, A...

2011-12-05T15:26:00.001-05:00

Dearest Maren,

This past weekend, you reached the momentous age of three. Three whole years of your presence on this Earth and I can't imagine the world without you. I wanted to take a moment and tell you a little about your three-year old self.

You are happy. You are the happiest, most content child I've ever met. Despite the fact that you have completely typical meltdowns and temper tantrums and are a bit of a drama queen, you are truly happy with the world around you. You get excited easily and you never cease to find the joy in the mundane. Your bright eyes and easy smile mean that you bring the bright side to all those around you, too. You are liquid cheer, moving through the room and giving everyone a little smile.

You are smart. Every day I am amazed at what you have learned, what you can say and what you understand. You can carry on a conversation and play board games with your big sister. Sometimes I forget how little you still are, because you are so smart. Please, if I continue to do this, please, remember that it's a compliment.

You are beautiful. Everyone thinks so, but I, doubly so. Your curls and your pudge are only the beginning. What makes you beautiful is the glow that comes from within. Your constant interest, curiosity and amazement at the world around you makes you so beautiful. I hope you never lose that. I hope that for the rest of your life, you try to dissect the world and know the hows and whys.

You love things that go - horses, cars, trucks, motorcycles and especially the four wheeler that NiNi and Papaw got you for your big day this year. You are rough and tumble and have no fear when it comes to speed, loud noises and things that go vroom. You love to help Uncle D work on cars and you don't mind getting all dirty and you can teach your momma a thing or two about motors.

But then you turn around and hold a baby doll with such grace and delicacy that it takes my breath away. You can stand there, baby in your arms and grease on your face and remind me that you will never be pigeon-holed. You will defy expectations and stereotypes. You are complex and wonderful.

You may change in the years between me writing this and you reading it. I'm sure, in fact, that some things will change a great deal. But here is what will never change: you will never stop being my girl. My sweet, funny, beautiful, amazing girl. My penguin. My peach pit. My everything.

Happy birthday.

Love,
Mommy

Five Things on Friday - Grinch Edition

2011-12-02T11:50:00.001-05:00

When it comes to Christmas, I am Suzy Freakin' Sunshine. I love all things holiday related. I put up the tree the weekend after Thanksgiving, which is also about the time I start listening to Christmas music. I watch whatever pops on TV that is Christmas related and I may or may not already be working on getting my kids to watch It's a Wonderful Life.

I'm annoying like that. But there are a few Christmas-related things that drive me absolutely fruitcakey. So, here they are in no particular order:

Five Things I Hate About the Christmas Season

1. "Christmas Shoes" - I don't know if you've heard this World's Most Depressing Song, but basically a poor little kid wants to buy his mom some shoes to wear because she's dying on Christmas Eve. I am all about a few tears in my eggnog (especially since I don't drink eggnog) but this song is over-the-top sad. I'm pretty sure it was written by someone who hates jolliness. Or merriment. Or rockin' around the Christmas tree.

Really? Really Rankin/Bass?
You got Mia Farrow to be a unicorn,
but this is the best baby you can do?

2. Rankin and Bass - Okay, I'm going to go ahead and admit it up front. I hate Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys. Maybe I'm evil. Or inhuman. Whatever. I seem to be the only one on the planet. I'm pretty sure that's someone's acid trip and it's not even an amusing one, like Teletubbies. Also, it's not that I don't like claymation, it's that I don't like crappy claymation.* Also, Berle Ives. I get that it's a whole part of our culture or whatnot and that there are approximately a million of these travesties - don't even get me started on the ones featuring the New Year Baby - but I just think they are terrible.**

I still believe.

3. People who don't know how to discuss Santa in public - If I am ever found guilty of murder, it'll be because some loudmouth says something stupid and ruins the magic for someone sweet. Magic is what makes the world go 'round and if you don't learn to participate in the magic and believe as a grown up, I have no use for you during the month of December. Or your kids, because chances are they "found out" when they were four.

4. Light Up Accessories - Every year, there is someone out there who buys my kids a bunch of jewelry, hats, hairbands and shirts that flash tiny LED lights constantly. Having a few items isn't such a big deal, but with kids this age, they are going to wear them all at once. That's a big deal. It's, in fact, a seizure waiting to happen, if you ask me. I know it's the season of light and all, but is that really any reason to cover kids in them?

Arrgh. Someone needs to get that kid therapy.
And not by a vindictive nutcase bully.

5. Charlie Brown - I can usually ignore the mocking of a fictional clinically depressed child, because it's, you know, fictional and because it's not usually in my face. But for some reason, Christmas and Charlie Brown have developed an unholy relationship, where we are forced to see him constantly and sit back and chuckle while he is emotionally bullied (and sometimes physically) by all his "friends." Even when I was little, I liked Snoopy, but wanted to shake some sense into Charlie Brown.

*(I love you, Nick Park.)

** Also, of note: My love for The Last Unicorn. I know, I know. I am a complex and unpredictable sort.

Okay, so, do you agree with my annoyances, or do you want to meet me behind the tinsel for some sparring? What are you most annoyed by this time of year?

Making It! - World's Simplest Book Mark Edition

2011-12-01T14:38:00.001-05:00

Cutesy nesting bookmarks.

So, I'm in this bookclub and every Christmas, we have a white elephant exchange where we all bring the most horrific thing we own and pawn it off on someone else. We also tend to gift each other with little knick-knacks of the free to cheap variety. For the last few years, I've made a habit of making my gifties and I've done everything from fudge to scrap yarn scarves.

This year, I saw these super-cute little bookmarks on Pinterest and knew that I had to make them. A little digging in my basement and I came up with some cute scrapbook paper.

Basic Shape = Fish or Fat Arrow

I tried scrapbooking and I actually did it for a couple of years. In the end, I just wasn't as into it as the amount of money I was spending would imply. So, I gave it up. I have found, though, that a lot of the stuff I accumulated through my scrappy life has come in handy. I use those tape rollers all the time and I will never, ever give up my corner rounder.

In any case, it took me a little experimenting but I came up with the basic shape needed and made a template. Then, I traced it onto the "good" paper and cut it out. It looks a little like a fish. Or a fat arrow.

Fold one - corner up.

Next, I folded the point up, so that the apex was aligned with the the lowest point in the "arrow" end.

Then, I folded the right hand point down and ran a couple of lines of tape over the top. If you don't have scrappy materials, you could use double sided tape, glue dots or glue. You want to make sure you get the corners (like I didn't do in the pic - hey - there's a small learning curve here).

Fold Two

Finally, fold down the last corner and press to secure against the tape or glue. You're done! Both sides are two pages thick. I considered covering each one with clear contact paper to make it a little more heavy-duty, but after playing with them a while, I decided this would hold up at least as well as you're typical cardstock and thread bookmark.

I want to go back and write little quotes on them, but I haven't collected any yet. Any suggestions are welcome!

A couple of notes about paper - you could use any paper you want, but I think the scrapbook paper is just about perfect for this job. If you used anything much heavier you would want to crease the edges very carefully, using a blunt blade, like the straight side of a butter knife. Anything lighter and you'd want to reinforce it a little. This would be pretty cute with maps or wrapping paper, too. The best part is that in the end you have something cute and easy to make that didn't cost you much, if anything. So, go ahead and use it and even lose it. It's okay.

So, what do you think - do you like my easy-peasy little bookmarks? Have a super-easy gifty you'd like to share?

Five Things on Friday - Thankful Parent Edition

2011-11-18T15:07:00.001-05:00

As promised - More Thankfulness! Now with Twice the Gratitude! And if you act now, Free Grace!

Five Things About My Children that Make Me Thankful

1. Their Intelligence - So, here's the thing. I know that all parents, universally believe their children to be the smartest, prettiest, funniest kids on Earth. It's a biological imperative. Of course, not all of us can be right. (Like me.) Just kidding. Here's the thing. My kids - they are smart kids. Maren scares me sometimes with the stuff she knows and I am completely guilty of forgetting that sh'es only two because she's the size of a six year old, talks as well as a five year old and likes to work on cars. Brynna is one of those kids who's too smart to bother and we fight against that, but the fact is that I kind of sometimes secretly agree with her. Why should she do 110 math problems to prove that she knows how to carry. I would think that 20 or 30 would prove the same thing.

In any case, smarties I have. Geniuses I don't. For which I am also grateful. There's a lot of pressure and stress and worry that comes with parenting a genius level kid and I, for one, am not sure I would be so good at it. My kids aren't Einstein (probably) but they are smarter than your average bear and that makes me very proud, happy and thankful. Until their homework exceeds my knowledge and then I'll be vair unhappy.

2. Their Health - On the one hand, obvs I am thankful that I have healthy kids. On the other hand, I am struck sometimes by the very vastness of what can go wrong. Kids are born with all sorts of weird issues that require tons of surgery and therapy to overcome, or they develop diseases and sicknesses that shake the foundation of the world. Or they have allergies that can make the scent of a good PB&J kill them dead. I read an article once about vaccinations where a parent of an imuno-compromised child thanked parents of healthy children for getting the vaccinations that her child can't have and increasing the "herd protection." She talked at length about what a simple case of chicken pox could do to her child and I cried all the way through it. I've always been pro-vac, but that article made me super-pro-vac. And it also took my breath away at just how very, very fragile the lives of our children are. Sometimes I forget about it and I get annoyed with another ear infection or stomach virus, but in truth, I am one of the most blessed mothers in the world.

3. Maren's Love of All Things Scary - It's probably no secret that I love scary movies, scary books and scary TV shows. Although I haven't exactly plopped her down in front of The Exorcist yet (she's TWO), so does Maren. She loves a good fright and she likes scary stories and Scooby Doo and she jumps and grabs her chest whenever she's scared and then erupts into the most glorious cascade of giggles. Because she, like me, likes the scary things that really scare her. We have a creepy, crawly future together, Maren. I will show you the world (of blood, creepy kids and psycho pastors).

4. Brynna's Love of All Things Bookish - It's altogether possible that Brynna may never watch a horror movie with and that Doctor Who and Wallace and Grommet may be the only things TV/cinematic we ever have in common. But, girl loves to read. Give her a book and a corner and she quickly turns into a seven year old version of me, nose in a book, swept away, deaf and blind to the outside world. I love to watch her read. I love to share a blanket and the couch and both of us just zone out flipping away. She like mystery and historic fiction and books about animals and princesses and I love that she's just getting started.

5. Their Mineness - Ultimately, what I am most grateful for when it comes to my kids is that they are that. My kids. All their foibles, beauty, stubbornness, smarts. All the moments when I am so proud they are mine and even the moments when I can't hush them up and they are embarrassing the pants off of me. They are mine. I would die for them, walk on fire for them. Live for them. They are the best of me and the worst of me, but they are mine.

So what about you? What makes you thankful when it comes to the kiddos? Or the furry kiddos? Or the non-kiddo family? I'm really not picky here...

Shouting into the Void

2011-11-17T16:04:00.001-05:00

At work the other day, we got into a conversation about Twitter. The ladies there seemed to be of the opinion that it's a horrible monster of doom. And that's okay, because before I had a smarter-than-me phone, I thought it was a horrible monster of doom. I still sometimes forget to even look at it for days or even weeks at a time.

It's not a horrible monster of doom for me now, because I see the usefulness of having some place to go. Twitter, in my ever humble, non-expert, recently terrified opinion is a big room where you can go and strike up a conversation.

"Twitter is scary if you think of it a place where you have to be witty or smart or novel. Because then you're just shouting into the void, wondering if it'll echo. If you think of it as a party you can wander into, have a three minute conversation and then wander back out of, it's much less intimidating," I told them.

Blogging is like that too. I like blogging best when what I say starts a conversation. I don't like to shout into the void. It's an awful lot of words to shout, for one thing.

But, you know, conversations are hard. Because you have to, like, talk about stuff. And sometimes I just don't feel up to that. Sometimes I feel like I've talked about it all and I don't want to talk about it anymore. I wonder if I should just give up on this here bloggy thing and I stare at the blank screen and lament my lack of talkiness.

Sometimes I don't want to talk because I'm pissy or hurt or scared and talking is scary.

Sometimes I'm just really not in the mood to talk and so I don't. I close the big white screen down and go somewhere else. Or I shout into the void. About stupid stuff. Because it's easier than talking.

This is an apology, yo.

I'll talk more later. And better and I'll say things that matter. I'll tell you about the scary stuff and the sad stuff and the happy stuff and the funny stuff. Just not today, okay?

Today, I'm just whispering into the void.

On Starting Christmas

2011-11-16T15:52:00.001-05:00

You know, I have a soapbox, and I'm not afraid to use it, right? Well, today it's a bit of a weird one...

Every year I hear more and more complaints about starting Christmas so early. Stores put things out too soon, Christmas music starts playing on the radio too soon, companies start promoting Christmas shopping so early... It goes on and on - endless complaints about when Christmas should begin.

Which always conjures up my eternal argument: whatever.

Because mostly, I just don't care. I used to work for a paper goods store in an outlet mall. Our first shipment of Christmas paper (and the hours spent rolling it in the back room watching the images blur by) came in July. By August, we had Christmas paper on the floor and by the end of September we had an entire aisle (of a four aisle store) dedicated to Christmas. You can't shock me.

On the other hand, let me tell you why we did it. Because people bought it. Our stores, our industries are a product of our habits. You want Christmas to come later, start shopping later. Simple as that. Because as long as there are a significant number of people who will buy Christmas paper in August, there will be Christmas paper in August.

Stores don't build displays and merchandising based on The Fun. They have entire teams of researchers telling them when to do what and in what order. To maximize sales. So, don't complain about Wal-Mart or Penney's or whatever store inspired your ire this afternoon. Complain about the consumers who are consuming.

But you know what, don't even do that. Because some of us like it the way it is. I am specifically talking here about crafters. I need ideas, patterns, supplies and other things beginning in August, because crafting isn't a super-quick hobby. It takes time. It takes Saturdays and it takes supplies.

I'm also talking about people who like to be prepared. I don't like to Christmas shop in December. Why? Because I like to spend December enjoying Christmas. With my family and stuff. The very people I can't take shopping because likely, I am shopping for them. It's a thing with me.

And also, I'm talking about the people who love Christmas. I am one of the idiots who tunes into "MixMas" 24-7 Christmas radio the very day that it starts - which should be this weekend, by the way. I put up the Christmas tree as soon as the Thanksgiving dishes are cleared and the Black Friday packages are hidden.

And here's the thing. I don't mind that you don't do those things. I don't care if you are one of those people who puts your tree up the weekend before the big day and shops on Christmas Eve (although for the sake of all the poor schleps who have to work on Christmas Eve, would you consider the 23rd?). I don't mind if you hate all things Noel before December 1. You won't ever hear me complaining that you start Christmas too late.

So, please, leave me and my crafty, overly prepared, Christmas loving butt alone. I'm far too busy rockin' around the Christmas tree.

Greats

2011-11-14T15:16:00.001-05:00

I had the amazing privilege of knowing three of my great-grandparents.

I knew my maternal grandmother's mother and both of my maternal grandfather's parents. I had enough experiences with each of them that I have vivid and powerful memories of them to this day. I can't see strawberry wafer cookies without thinking of my Grandma Howard, who picked them out of the box for me when I was coming. And every time I smell pipe tobacco, I remember my Grandpa Howard.

My Mamau died when I was very young and my memories of her are strange and don't mesh with what history tells me must be true. Just the same, I remember her, her smile and her kindness.

Most of the people I've known in my life have never known a great-grandparent. I can't think of a single solitary person who, like me, can remember as many as three. I even know quite a few with no memories of their grandparents.

My girls are very lucky in that they know my grandparents very well. My grandfather, who they call GrandPapaw and I call Granddaddy, adores them. He will happily just sit and list their good traits, while completely ignoring the bad. He gives them whatever they want that he can provide - mostly chocolate and ice cream. Each of them has spent her fair share of time cuddled in his lap.

My Grandmommie is less of a kid person. But even she is always delighted to see them, loves to read to them and tell them stories and spends as much time with them as she can.She patiently listens as they prattle on with seemingly never-ending and pointless stories. I remember her doing the same for me. She tries to find kid shows on TV for them and offers them her precious lap desk for coloring.

Their time together is fleeting. I know this, by simple mathematics. I fully expect my grandparents to turn out to be immortal, but only because in my heart I am not much older than Brynna. But I know, intellectually, that one day they will be to my girls what my Mamau and Grandma and Grandpa Howard are to me: a collection of jumbled memories and stories.

I cannot express how sad that makes me. That one day Brynna won't remember the watery green shade of my grandmother's eyes or be able to recall the scritchy flannel of my Grandpa's winter shirt/jacket. Or that Maren may not be able to remember them at all.

I truly consider every moment that I can give my girls with their great-grandparents to be gift. Hopefully, there will be many, many more moments. So many that this all seems silly one day.

But one day, I truly hope that my children will be able to tell their children stories of Grandmommie and Granddaddy. Even if it's just how loud the television gets and how there's always rocky road ice cream and oatmeal cookies. They are a piece of history, a piece of our family identity that I won't ever be able to create for them. The stories they tell are more powerful from their lips, even the ones I can recite almost verbatim.

Five Things on Friday - Thankful Edition Part 1

2011-11-11T11:04:00.001-05:00

So, I know I'm early and all, but here's the story:

Last night, we had some stuff, you know, stuff, like Brynna's cheerleading awards ceremony that started 45 minutes late and we had to eat dinner and stuff. The kids were tired and, as Maren says, "whiney hinies." They were bickering and complaining and generally being a pain in my hiney. My hiney does not like that, and so, I opened my mouth to start my usual dressing down about being kind and respectful and using your words wisely and carefully and then, instead, brilliance came out. Because sometimes I'm smarter than I give myself credit for.*

"Okay, here's the deal," I started. "You guys have been complaining about not having ketchup and who's hairbow that is, and I'm not sure you realize how ridiculous those concerns really are. So, beginning now, we are going to spend the rest of this car ride home, listing things for which we are thankful. I will start and we'll go around and no one gets a by, everybody goes and we'll list all the reasons we have not to whine about silly things."

"I'm thankful for the zombie book in my purse that I'm dying to read as soon as we get home.**"

And, just like that, the kids stopped whining and started listing things. When Maren would say things, like, "I'm thankful for signs," Brynna would giggle and she and I would try and explain why we should all be thankful for signs. At one point, there was whining about whose turn it was, but I just pulled the car over and calmly explained that we would just sit there until they started coming up with blessings again.

Sometimes, I rock.

I'm not sure they learned the bigger lesson I was trying to impart: that we have so much for which to be grateful, that there's no room for being upset about hairclips and ketchup. But, I did travel home in peace and harmony - so there's that at least.

And it got me thinking about my thankfulness. I am thankful for all the big things: my house, my family, my friends, food to eat, air to breathe, a job that pays me, etc, etc. But I'm also thankful for some little things and I thought I would share a few, beginning today and continuing through the rest of the Fridays in November.

Five Things For Which I am Thankful Part 1

1. The Internet - I used to think that I was born at the wrong moment in history. I believed that I should have been a child of the 60's. And I will tell you that Haight-Ashbury and Janis and Woodstock still call to me with their hippy voices. But, now I understand why I was chosen for this moment in history. The Internet. I love the Internet. From Pinterest to online shopping, from xkcd to The Bloggess. From the ability to find any song you ever heard based on the three words you remember to sites that help you make your own laundry detergent - I love the Internet.

2. Children's TV - I am thankful for the bright colors, hip music and inane story lines that keep my kids occupied for a few moments every day while I do something productive (or sit on the couch and think about the productive things I could be doing).

3. Silence - I have always been a person who couldn't concentrate in silence. I need the radio, TV or other noise making distraction to keep me focused. I don't know why and I understand that it's counter-intuitive. But that's me. Counter-intuitive. However, since having children, I have come to truly appreciate the joy of a completely silent house. When the kids are in bed and the lights and TV are out and I can bask in nothing but resounding silence. Until a train goes by. Or a cat knocks something over. Because I am also thankful, quite often, for a lack of silence.

4. Zombies, Werewolves, Vampires and Demons - How much less interesting would the world truly be without the stories of the living dead, animalistic, undead and possessed. Or it that just me? I am also thankful that I live in the time of rampant publishing and cable TV so that things like Feed and The Walking Dead can enter my world.

5. Yarn - When I think about the things that I truly love to do, the things that make me happy and feel contented with the world, crochet is right up there and it's so much happier with a wide of array of stuff to make. Thanks to Ravelry and Pinterest, patterns are no problem and thanks to online retailers, yarn is just a click away. Oh, yarn. How I love thee.

What about you? What silly little things are you giving thanks for this year?

*Mostly, I'm not as smart as I give myself credit for, because despite whatever other faults I believe myself to have, I think I'm pretty darn smart.

**Feed by Mira Grant. I am absolutely loving it, but I'm still not finished. It's the beginning of a series and I'm gonna be so hooked. Thank you so much to my friend, Sage, who sent this book when I needed it most. Not just because it was a zombie novel, but because I had forgotten that I do have friends who like the same, weird stuff as me.

Master Debater

2011-11-08T16:14:00.000-05:00

Brynna is an argumentative little cuss. It's probably just a phase, but it's about to drive me up the tree.

This is a near-perfect transcript of an argument we had the other day:

Brynna: Well, I have saw big turtles too.
Me: Seen. You have seen.
B: No, I have saw.
Me: You have seen.
B: Saw is the past tense of see.
Me: Saw is the past simple tense. Seen is the past perfect tense. As in, I saw turtles. I have seen turtles.
B: No. Ms. Parker says that saw is the past tense of see.
Me: Well, Ms. Parker is not wrong, because saw is the past tense of see, but when you use the word have with an irregular verb, it changes it. So, the past perfect is have seen.
B: No, it's not. It's saw. I have saw.
Me: Listen, I spent four years and forty thousand dollars getting an English degree and having someone teach me grammar and you are second grade and I'm not going to sit here and argue this with you.
B: Okay, 'cause I'm right.
Me: anguished scream.

I have tried everything I know to try. I've proved her wrong. I've because I said so'd. I've told her that when you argue with people past the point where no one is going to agree, you are just trying to make them feel stupid and no one wants to feel stupid. I've yelled. I've spanked. I've time outed. It just doesn't seem to matter.

And the truth is - I'm reaping the whirlwind.

I've always tried to teach my girls that nothing is absolute. That if you disagree with something, you should calmly present a solid, well-thought argument and we shall see. In other words, it's okay to try to change my mind, so long as you do it well.

Brynna, my incredibly and amazingly logical child, has always gotten this. Until now. Now, her arguments always, always, always fall into one of two camps: I'm right because I'm right or I should get to because someone else does.

I feel that I've done my due diligence on providing information on exactly how strongly these arguments will be rejected: You're only right if you can prove that you are and I'm not so and so's mother and if I were, then I'd be having this argument with them.

As a past debater, I've always been a little proud of her amazing ability to out-argue many adults. She's completely floored a couple of people at church and even out-argued one of her teachers once. I'm not sure why we've gone backwards, but I am not happy about it.

I suppose this is just practice for those pesky teen aged years. I do hope the arguments get more creative, though. And perhaps about more interesting material.

Five Things on Friday - Dawn Edition

2011-11-04T13:38:00.000-04:00

You may have picked up that I am not a morning person. I actually hate mornings. And I hate getting up early and getting out of the house. But I have to. And because I can't help looking at the bright side some days, I thought I would share the

Five Things that Make It Almost, But Not Quite Worth Getting Up
1. Sunrises - For the most part, I think sunrises are a watery and poor substitute for sunsets. However, every once in a while, I'll see a sunrise that really takes my breath away. Wednesday was one of those days. What I love about a good sunrise is that the colors are totally different from anything else you'll ever see, and like a rainbow, they are really hard to capture on film.

2. That extra half hour in the office - I get to work at least a half hour before I'm supposed to and at least 45 minutes before anyone else does. Sometimes I use that time to just play on the computer and sometimes I use it to get caught up on work or clean off my desk. Whatever I do, I do it in the complete peace and quiet that only comes from being the only person there. It's relaxing and calming and I wouldn't give it up.

3. Traffic - At night when I'm making my rounds, picking everyone up and heading back home, the traffic is at its worst. But in the morning, specifically, at 6:45 in the morning, it's just me and the truckers on the interstate. Okay, so the car line at school can be ridiculous, but otherwise, traffic that early moves pretty smoothly. It's nice to only have one rush hour a day.

4. Cold - I know I'm an odd duck, but I like cold weather. And it's so brisk in the early morning, you can almost feel the frost in the air. I love that. I love coats and hats and scarves, too. The downside to this is windshield scraping and bundling up the kids - who constantly loose their mittens, etc. But for me, walking out that door into the cold, still-night air is one of the best moments of my day.

5. Wildlife - Nothing has gone to bed yet and everything is beginning to wake, so living in the middle of nowhere, I see very cool creatures ear-lie in the morning. Deer, coyotes, raccoons, the occasional bat, turtles, rabbits, skunks. Everything headed out or headed home.

What's your biggest dark cloud and are there any silver linings?

What Dreams May Come

2011-11-03T16:09:00.001-04:00

Please pardon my rambling. It's one of those days. Tomorrow a very focused Five Things, promise.

Last night I had this bizarre and uncomfortable dream about someone trying to hurt me, emotionally. There was a lot of running around in corridors and this guy made me think that he was awful and everyone was on my side, but in reality, he was awful and everyone was on his side.

I woke up trying to remember why a balloon with a snottty message in it was scary enough for me to wake up in a cold sweat. I don't know... Maybe it's because I fell asleep watching American Horror Story or maybe it's just my stress level. Or maybe it's latent memories of those balloons in It and "we all float down here..."

I don't think I ever really got over being scared of It.

I've been dreaming a lot lately. Not just weird, uncomfortable night dreams that leave me feeling confused and also, sort of watched. Day dreams too. I'm dreaming of going back to school. I'm thinking about it a lot even though I've missed the cut off for Spring semester and it's going to be that much longer before I get it all together.

I'm dreaming of redecorating my kitchen and my bedroom.

I'm dreaming of opening an Etsy shop and selling some of my crafts.

I'm dreaming of keeping a clean house.

I'm dreaming of Christmas.

What I'm not doing is doing. I'm not studying for the GRE. I'm not painting my kitchen or rearranging my bedroom furniture to figure out if it fits the other way. I'm not stockpiling enough craftsy things to get a shop started. I'm not getting ahead of the curve on the housecleaning. I'm not making Christmas presents.

I'm just dreaming.

I feel stalled. I think it's a little because of the uncertainty in my life. It's a little because I'm avoiding home to some degree. And it's a little because nighttime, when I should be doing those things, is when I mostly succumb to the sadness. I feel a little sorry for myself and I want ice cream and TV. I haven't even been reading and that is really saying a lot for me. (My 33 list is looking pitiful.)

I need to get motivated to do something and do it.

I know me well enough to know that if I don't do anything, that just contributes to my malaise. The only way for me to get over it is to get moving. Not even a lot of moving - crochet, reading, just not long, hot baths and TV flipping.

I guess I'm putting this out there because I think if I see it in print, I'll know in my heart what I already know in my head.

I'm fine, but I'm also sad. I don't like dealing with the stuff - the clothes and books and boxes and things that belong to him. I don't want to see them, but I don't want to pack them up. I need to do things to feel good enough to do them, but to do that, I've got to go home and not go straight to bed. I've got to deal when I'm there with all the stuff that's much easier to deal with when I'm not there. I've got to get moving. Even a little. Because it's like an avalanche with me. A little pebble of movement will begin the cascade and then I'll be myself again.

I can't wait to be myself again.

It's November 1st - Just So You Know

2011-11-01T13:21:00.000-04:00

Today there is only one topic when you have small children in your life - how pwecious was wittle pweciousness last night!!

Pretty darn precious is the answer.

But first, let me share some Halloween trauma for you: Last year, Brynna wanted to be Scarlet O'Hara. Mostly because her cousin (who she completely looks up to in every way) gave her an outgrown Scarlet costume. I shrugged. Despite the fact that I always looked like a million bucks on Halloween as a child and paraded around town in the finest of handmade costumes, I kinda suck at the whole thing as a mom. But then, two days* before Halloween, I get a "reminder" from the school that costumes have to be characters from a book and the children have to bring said book with them.

Okay, so Scarlet is totally a character from a book, but am I really going to send my paperback with the classic bodice-ripper cover in to school with a first grader? No. So, we threw together a Pinkalicious costume at the last minute and the world went on.

This year, I thought I was sooo far ahead of the game when I rejected Brynna's idea to be Buffy the Vampire Slayer - because it had to be a character from a book. (Please note - we have Buffy books at home, but I like them all too much to send to school with a second grader and also, possibly not appropriate. Especially since they are mostly graphic novels and, well, for adults and stuff.) After much consternation, we arrived at Laura Ingalls. And I swooned. Because, How awesome!

I purchased a costume (a nice handmade one from a consignment sale - score!). However, Brynna misunderstood what "calico" is and "thought it would be prettier." No more Laura. Get that out of her closet. I hate it! Tears. Gnashing of teeth. Oookay.

That's Brynna as Ginny, Mario, a vampire fairy, Iron Man
and Luigi*

After some arguing and trying to reach a compromise, Brynna decided to be Ginny Weasley. (And my geek heart rejoiced and I may have taken a moment to believe that I am doing this right.) My mom purchased the replacement costume and I scrounged around the house for a week for the very cool wand we bought when Brynna was but a wee baby.

Then, as it turns out, second graders don't wear costumes to school. I'm not sure what this means, as a school rule. Are we done with costumes in school? Do they only get to wear them every other year? Perhaps it was a punishment for being such a horrible grade? Who knows. All I know is, as I told Brynna, we are done with that school's hoops. Next year she can be anyone she wants. I can't believe I blew my chance at a Buffy costume.

Now - for Maren. Maren wanted to be a bumble bee. Then, she wanted to be Jessie from Toy Story. Then she wanted to be a princess. When we got out all the dress up clothes in the house on the Saturday before Halloween to find an appropriate princess that fit her, she changed her mind to want to be a ballerina.

I am so lucky we have a nearly
bottomless dress up trunk.

Sunday night, she sleepily said, "I wanna be a cowgirl. No ballerina. Cowgirl."

Monday morning I packed both costumes, because sometimes I learn.

Indecision. Thy name be Maren.

Anyway, last night, there were costumes, there was candy, there were friends and running and glee and laughter and McDonald's because I forgot you have to feed those munchkin things. There was fun and it was all worth it. Today my legs are sore and other people are caring for my sugar-crashing demon children and I have pwecious pictures and all is right with the world.

How was your Halloween?

*It may have been as much as a week. Who can tell. Every time I tell this story, it gets closer to the big day.
**Brynna wouldn't quit moving long enough for me to get a picture of just her. Trust me, though, that wand is so cool.

Five Things on Friday - Horror Movie Edition

2011-10-28T16:16:00.000-04:00

Well, it's Halloween weekend and that can only mean one thing (or actually many, but pretend with me) - horror movies!!

I thought I would give a rundown of five of my all-time favorites, one from each of my own made-up horror movie categories. I hope you find something to enjoy!

Five Horror Movies I Love

Even the house is creepy.

1. The Scary 'Cause It Could Happen - Psycho - Norman Bates kills people in his hotel at the behest of his dead, stuffed mother. What makes this so possible? It kinda happened. Ed Gein was a murderer in the 1950's and while not quite as sensational as Norman, he did have mommy issues, keep pieces and parts of his victims and tried to build a "woman suit" out of parts of corpses. (He is actually the inspiration for Psycho, Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs). Psycho is well-made and creepy, but also, sort of feasible. It's that possibility that gets under your skin. More Could Happens: See above Ed Gein films, The Strangers, American Psycho, Rear Window and it's decent re-telling Disturbia.

What I would give for a picture
of her demon breasts

2. The Ridiculous - Mausoleum - This is quite possibly the worst horror movie ever made. A woman (played by a playboy bunny - there's your first clue) is possessed by a demon and starts killing men while having sex with them. Also, her breasts become demons and grow teeth. I will watch it any time there's a possibility. So bad it's good is how I usually describe it. If you want to celebrate with a horror movie, but hate to be scared, this is the movie for you. Also on this list of ridiculousness - Grandmother's House, The Evil Dead, Hellraiser, or Leprechaun. Most slasher flicks fit into this category.

Looks all happy until
you see the rope.

3. The Creepy -The Omen - So, technically a series, you should really just avoid all of them except the first one. And maybe the remake, I haven't gotten around to that one. In my opinion, the best horror movies are those that get quietly under your skin and creep you out without the jumps and screams and blood flying everywhere. Although, there's a fair amount of blood in this one - and a decapitation! Anyway, an ambassador takes a baby whose mother died in childbirth after his child is stillborn. He fails to tell the mother and then finds out years later that the child is the devil. Or the devil's spawn. Or the Antichrist. Complete with a 666 birthmark and a penchant for suicidal nannies, Damon is creepy to the extreme. Others in this category: Children of the Corn, Rosemary's Baby, Event Horizon and Let the Right One In.

Clows always creep me out.

4. The Series - Halloween - For my money, there is no horror series like Halloween and no psycho killer from hell like Michael Myers. Michael is just a little boy when he brutally murders his older sister. He is put away for fifteen years and breaks out to finish the job - presumably by killing any slutty teenager in the county. What makes this series worth the marathon (skip number three, just trust me) is that unlike most psycho killers, Michael Myers is genuinely scary. Plus the music. Plus Jamie Lee Curtis. Plus Donald Pleasance as the creepy "hero" Dr. Loomis. Other series of note: Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th and Child's Play (please note, this could also be filed under Number 2).

Seriously, check out the greenscreening. Can anything
that looks this terrible not be entertaining?

5. The Creature Feature - I hate to admit it, but my all-time favorite creature feature is Lake Placid 2. This is not rocket surgery, people. A plot synopsis would be sort of an insult to your intelligence. There's giant mutant alligators. That's the upshot. Other Creature Features of note: Jaws, Aliens, Rein of Fire, Predator, almost anything made for SyFy.

I Feel as If...

2011-10-26T16:16:00.001-04:00

If you hear me utter the words, "I feel as if," chances are good that one of two things is happening. I'm trying to be funny in a too hard, stop trying kind of way. Or I'm trying not to lose my temper or burst into tears.

So you can imagine the hilarity and also slight shame I felt when Brynna said on Sunday night, "I feel as if you are making up excuses to not go to night church."

So, here it is Wednesday, I have a throbbing flourescent lightbulb induced headache, I don't want to cook dinner and damn it, I'm going to church. Because I was called out by a seven year old, that's why.

Wish me luck. Or pray if you are so inclined. I'll be trying to sit in the darkest part of the church.

Five Things on Friday - Date Edition

2011-10-21T16:27:00.000-04:00

As I may have mentioned in my last post, I now no longer have anyone with whom to go to the movies. Other than being a big ole first world problem, it is also not at all important because I never have the money to go to the movies anymore.

And yet... ever since a friend of mine mentioned a certain Hunger Games movie, I have to admit to panicking a little. Not because of that movie, I'll go see that if I have to sit in a lonely theatre by myself (which, disclosure - I won't.) No, because it dredges up a whole area of this forging ahead thing that I hadn't considered: I no longer have a "date."

Now, hear me out. I don't mean a date-date. I just mean, who goes to the movies with me? I no longer have a built-in person to do those things. So here are my list of

Five Things For Which I Will Be Accepting Applications on Accompaniment

1. Movies - I know, I've kinda covered this, and movies are probably the easiest things to attend on your own. For starters, there's no need for conversation, and for seconders, you're sitting in the dark. I used to do it all the time when I wrote movie reviews. But, my favorite part of the movie is honestly the end where I pick it apart. Most people hate that about me. I'm okay with people hating that about me because I love doing it so much. But still, it take someone special to attend a movie with me. Also, I am not exactly surrounded by folks who love sci-fi, horror and art films. Of course, I was never surrounded by anyone who loved art films, but still. As Meatloaf says, "two outta three ain't bad."

2. Concerts - There's actually a concert coming up that I really wanna go see, but I am NOT going alone. Save me from myself.

3. New Year's Eve - Every other year, I shall sit at home by myself and weep for my patheticness. Or fall asleep at 11:52 and miss the stinkin' ball.

4. Vacations - Let's put aside the fact that I haven't been on a vacation since my honeymoon. I have plans. Plans to go to Alaska and London (again) and go to the beach in Michigan and the Pacific Northwest and Maine to stalk Stephen King (shhhh, Stephen, you know I would never do that). On the other hand, all the places I've always wanted to go where he didn't want to go: Prince Edward Island, Arizona, New Zealand - are now up for grabs.

5. Haunted Houses - It's not so much that I don't know anyone else who would go with me. It's that I don't know anyone else who would go and walk in front and tell me if it's going to get claustrophobic in that special way that I have and then leave to go sit in the medic's tent with me if I hyperventilate. Wait... Why do I even want to do this?

Where are you glad to have someone to go with?

So How Are You?

2011-10-20T16:29:00.002-04:00

It occurs to me, after years and years of asking people how they are that this is perhaps the worst question in the universe. Not just your average, How ya doin? in the grocery store. I'm talking about the very Southern, "So, how ya holding up?" you ask while wincing slightly.

I always thought I was being sweet. Caring. Letting people know that I was there for them in their time of need. What I understand now is that I was presenting them with a question that has no correct answer.

When people ask me that question right now, I don't have to wonder why they want to know. They want to know how I'm handling the separation. And it's good to know that people care. Trust me, I need people who care. I need a support system, I won't lie.

But how am I supposed to answer that question?

The answer, the good and true answer is that I am fine. I have a lot of day to day stuff. I'm keeping busy. I have my moments, but I'm okay.

Except I can't say that. If I say I'm okay, it either looks like I'm lying or like I'm a heartless ice queen who doesn't care that her husband moved out. I don't want to look like that. Even if it's true. I'm not sure if it is or not, but I'll figure it out eventually.

If I say anything else, I feel like I'm lying and that I'm going to get more sympathy than I can handle.

The truth is that it's complicated. Sometimes I'm fine. (Most of the time.) Sometimes I'm better than fine. (Like when I realize that I'll never again have to fish dirty socks out of the couch.) Sometimes I'm pretty rough. (Like when I had to watch The Walking Dead all by myself.) Sometimes I'm a little scared. (Like when I hear a noise in the middle of the night and I can't remember where the baseball bat is or why we ever thought that was a weapon.) Sometimes it seems like I've got this thing covered and sometimes it seems like everything is falling apart.

The truth is that it's the little things that matter the most now. Knowing I won't go to see a movie because I don't have anyone to go with anymore. Or spreading out and taking over all the dresser drawers. Little ups and little downs.

How do you possibly fit all that into a response to "How are you doing?"

The One in Which I Posit a New Theory

2011-10-18T15:33:00.002-04:00

My new theory is thus: Any problem will be either greatly improved or greatly worsened by ignoring it. The art is knowing what to ignore and what to act upon.

I think that no where is this truer than with children. Some things truly need to be addressed right away and some things, well, if you leave them alone, they'll go away.

For instance: a few weeks ago Maren was having trouble sleeping. She would wake at two or three in the morning and cry and scream and I'd go get her and put her in bed with me. A nagging voice told me every night that I needed to nip this in the bud. I must teach her to stay in her own bed again or she'd be in mine until she was 30. But, every night (or morning) at two or three, I'd also tell myself that I'd worry about it tomorrow. I was too tired tonight. Sure enough, after a couple of weeks, what was ailing her began to heal and she started sleeping soundly without me all over again.

I left it alone and it fixed itself.

On the other hand, my nearly three year old is still sleeping at night with a paci and I really need to take it away and I'm afraid that she might actually take the paci until she is 30. Luckily, it's only at night, so the only people who ever have to know are her college roomate (and what a great story that will be) and her future husband. Leaving it alone is not getting me much of anywhere with the paci, and I do believe that every day I let it go, it's going to be one day harder to get her to give it up.

Maybe tomorrow.

This weekend, Uncle D looked at me funny while I was sitting on Mom's couch.

"What?"

"Can't you hear Maren crying?"

"Yeah, but it's not serious." I went to explain how you can tell if it's a mad cry, a sad cry, a hurt cry, a scared cry or just a I'm-a-gunna-cry cry. This was a mad cry. She would get over it. Quite possibly better without me. Leave it alone. A hurt cry requires immediate attention. She cried that one later and I scampered on out the door. It wasn't serious, but if it had been, then leaving it alone would have proved disastrous.

This is what kids teach you. Or at least, this is what kids teach me: some things need to be handled right now. Some things you should ignore for just a couple more days.

I'm a worrier by nature and it's hard for me to not worry. Hard to let anything go for any time at all, but I find that when I don't know what to do, doing nothing might be the right answer. Or it might not. In a very zen way, you'll never know until it's better or it's worse. Which sort of adds to the worry, but you know...

Five Things on Friday - Fall TeeVee Edition

2011-10-07T16:39:00.003-04:00

You may already know that I am an unrepentant telivision junkie. And as the reality shows finally wane, I'm very excited to be finding things to watch almost every season. Fall is usually a little less exciting for me than summer (in the world of TV only) because I love me some "genre" shows and they seem to be traditionally housed in summer. (You know, 'cause us geeks can go outside or we'll burn our delicate and pasty skin.)

In any case, I am happy to announce that I have some new interests and a few might even become addictions. Welcome to...

Five New Fall Shows that You Should Watch

Witchy teens, ftw!

1. Secret Circle - From the minds that brought you The Vampire Diaries... This story of teenage witches trying to figure out what happened to their witchy parents and discovering their newfound powers is sort of delicious in a typically CW way. The set up is awfully reminicent of the The Craft, one of my all-time favorite horrible movies. Cassie Blake moves to her grandmother's home and discovers herself part of a coven who needed her to complete their circle. There's the mean girl and the super-smart girl and the cute boy and the dangerous boy. It's very stereotypical, but very watchable as well. The cast is mostly unknown (at least to me) but the cute boy is played by Thomas Dekker, who used to be John Connor. Witchy good fun, but not can't miss TV.

2. American Horror Story - From the minds that brought you Glee and Nip/Tuck... Seriously. These things are related. In any case, a very screwed up family (grieving mom, cheating dad, depressed teen daughter) move across country to start over in L.A. Even I think that's a bad idea. But moving into a house that has been home to decades of murder and weirdness... Well, let's just say that I don't think the Real Estate Agent quite finished her disclosure statement. Connie Britton is in it and I do love her. And the guy from The Practice who is the only reason I ever watched The Practice. I haven't made up my mind about this one yet. The pilot was scattered and a little non-sensical. Add in that they threw every horror movie cliche in and stirred (creepy kid, parts of butchered babies, bleeding animals, S&M, etc, etc, etc) and you may have a recipe for disaster. Or genius. I'll just have to wait and see.

Pretty, crazy boy.

3. Bedlam - Not to be a big BBCAmerica snob, but this is my favorite of the new season so far. I will be sticking to my TV just as close as I do for Doctor Who or Being Human. Jed, a young (and pretty) man who has been in and out of mental institutions because of his ability to see the dead and how they died comes to stay with his cousin, Kate. Kate, a determined non-believer, is in some sort of supernatural danger and Jed must save her. The setting for this lovely, though simple storyline is Bedlam Heights, an old asylum where not-so-nice things happened and has now been converted to apartments. Because everyone wants to live in an old sanatorium.This tops my favorite list for the fall.

4. New Girl - This comedy about a girl who breaks up with her longtime boyfriend and moves in with a bunch of guys is only so-so. But I love Zoe Deschanel. I just can't help it.We'll see how long that lasts. I wouldn't mind just spending that time watching Tin Man over and over again.

5. Once Upon a Time/Grimm - With two new shows so closely related, I'll probably pick one. Otherwise, I'll just end up confused. Since neither previews until later in the month, though, I am waiting with bated breath to see which one wins my heart.

Which new shows have captured your interest this Fall?

Making It! Spa Edition

2011-10-04T16:39:00.000-04:00

Gratuitous shot of the
birthday girl.

This past weekend, in celebration of my daughter's seventh birthday, we hosted a sleepover. Despite my incredible hesitation and fear of this event, we actually had a lovely time - and the girls were in bed before eleven. I have a feeling that no one told them what a sleepover was and for that, I am forever grateful.

In any case, Brynna wanted a spa party for her birthday and since we are doing everything on the cheap right now, we had to make spa a completely low-cost theme. Which, I didn't think would be nearly as easy as it was.

Enter Pinterest. Not only did I get lots of great ideas from Pinterest, but when I was stuck, I just searched and come up with all kinds of ideas. Here's the rundown on the items that I made:

Treat bowls of ice cream.

1. Favors - Thanks to Dollar Tree, the favor bowls contained a bath pouf, a washcloth, a pair of fingernail clippers, an emory board and a nail file, a set of toe separators, a small mirror and a chapstick. And the total cost per treat bowl: $3.66. I think that's pretty impressive. Pinterest had the idea of using a sundae glass and making the treats look like ice cream. Genius! But, since I couldn't find sundae glasses for what I deemed to be a decent price, I went with little plastic bowls. They turned out pretty cute, if not quite as cute as the original.

The spa girls with their avacado masks.

2. Avacodo Facials - I did them in the food processor like the original author suggested, but they were still a little clumpy. It was fine. The girls loved them. Add in the cucumber slices on their eyes and they were in seventh heaven.

3. Pedi's - I started off with a dishpan of warm water and scented Epsom salts and after a brief soak, did a sugar scrub, followed by painting of the nails. The girls were pretty confounded by the whole process, but loved it. And there are leftover Epsom salts for baths for me!! Oh, and leftover sugar scrub that I am currently using every time I wash my hands.

Really glittery body glitter.

4. Body Glitter - Actually, this wasn't my project, but the girls'. I put the aloe in the container and let them add and stir the glitter. The end result is wicked glittery, but hopefully, they will enjoy it.

5. Make your own pizzas - I actually got this idea from a commercial at the last minute. I used a package of large, flaky biscuits in the tube and rolled them out a little flatter and a little wider and then gave the girls bowls of canned spaghetti sauce, mini pepperonis, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, and cheese. The girls constructed their own pizzas, I baked them and Voila, supper! It was actually really good and the girls enjoyed the pizza a lot. Furthermore, all three of these girls typically refuse to eat anything but cheese pizza and while I think I was the only one to end up with mushrooms, they all stepped out of their comfort zones a little. Baking will do that for you.

See, Brynna is the brand name and
the color is Happy Bday Pink.
I swear that's what it says.

6. And speaking of baking - the cake - I almost always bake the girls' cakes because I just can't stomach paying that much for something that tastes like a solid lump of sugar. Even cake out of a box is better than cake out of grocery store bakery in my opinion. Of course, I suck at it. Although I work really hard at cake decorating, they are usually unmitigated disasters. This one, of course, was no exception, but Brynna thought it was cute. (It's a bottle of nail polish if you can't tell.)

All in all, this was a lot of fun, and I was amazed at how little I spent to have so much theme related activity. I think the final amount was about $80 for everything, including food.

So, what do you think? Ready to throw your own spa party?

Five Things on Friday - Fall Edition

2011-09-30T14:37:00.001-04:00

Fallen leaves and overalls. Is there anything better?

It's no secret that this (and Christmas) is (are) my favorite (s) time of year. I truly love Fall and I thought that since it is truly fall-ish out there today (at least in my neck of the woods) I'd let you know why.

Five Things I Love About Fall

1. Weather - There is nothing finer than a sunny day with a brisk wind. I can't say enough good things about the moment when you realize that you have had your last day of miserable heat and sweat tinged everything. There is something in the way the light hits everything that changes and lets you know that you are in the clear. You have months until summer's fierceness returns.

2. Color - I know that summer is supposed to be a time of great color. Everything's in bloom, yadda, yadda. Except that where I am, only the best gardeners have much color past June. Summer wilts everything down until even the grass struggles to maintain it's green. (This year wasn't as drought-ey, so not quite so bad.) And winter! Winter has all those nice blues and whites, except when it doesn't and everythig is just a giant stretch of brown. In my opinion, fall and spring are God's reminder that there is truly beauty everywhere. All those trees you practically haven't seen all summer? Yeah, they are now a blaze of glory. All those empty flower beds with slightly browning hosta? Yep, overflowing with gorgeous mums.

3. Football - Let me make this clear. I don't really like football. It's fine, whatever, like most sports, in my opinion. Except that I've spent the last ten or so years watching some team or another (this year it's a slew of teams of six and seven year olds) and I've developed a love for going to football. I love the wind and the outdoors, the stadium blankets and the smell of hotdogs on the breeze. I love the sea of team colors and the hubub of the cheerleaders and the band and the team and the spectators. I miss high school football and frankly, sitting in the grass at flag football is a poor substitute.

4. Festivals - It seems like all the good ones are in the fall. And with festivals come almost all of my favorite things: fresh squeezed lemonade, funnel cakes, tilt-a-whirls, craft shows and walking in the middle of the street. I don't know why strolling down the middle of the street makes me feel so free, but it does. Oh, and parades. The kind with little kids and candy, not the kind with fancy floats and giant balloons. I'm a small town girl, yo.

5. Clothes - I hate summer clothes. I hate tank tops and shorts and even capris. I hate to shave my legs. I hate sundresses and flip flops and being hot in everything. I love sweaters and jackets and boots and jeans. Especially jackets. I love scarves and tennis shoes and cardigans and hats. I love the joy of bundling up a little with the freedom of not having to worry yet about your coat.

So, what do you love about fall? Or are you an autumn-hater?

Seven is Such a Lucky Number

2011-09-28T09:19:00.000-04:00

Seven years ago today at 9:00 a.m. I nervously walked out of my house, carrying a suitcase bigger than needed and got into my car, shoving my giant beach ball belly under the steering wheel.

Seven years ago today at 10:15 a.m. I arrived at the hospital a full 45 minutes before I was supposed to because I was scared and nervous and wasn't allowed to eat and I really didn't know what to do to kill time besides eat breakfast. I sat in the car in the parking garage and made my car payment by phone. I went over my packing list. I argued one last time about the middle name if the ultrasounds were all (18 of them) wrong and it was a boy.

Seven years ago today at noon, I was asked to wait while the doctor performed an emergency c-section.

Seven years ago today at 1:30, I cried big fat baby tears while an inept anaesthesiologist stabbed me in the spine repeatedly. I begged her to stop and decided I'd just go home and this baby could stay in there forever. It would be fine, really.

Seven years ago today at 2:15, the doctor told me that she was here, she was fine. I laid on the table, not able to see what was going on with tears running down the sides of my face. "Why isn't she crying?" I asked Bob. "I don't know." I began praying, hard and fast for God to please, please let this baby cry. Please, please, I need to hear her cry. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she took a big shuddery breath and wailed. It sounded to me like the angels singing and I very nearly sang with them.

Seven years ago today at 2:30, Bob and Brynna left the OR and I oh-so-casually asked the doctor if she needed me. "Well, I've got to sew you up so you can't go anywhere," she replied. "Oh, I know. I just thought I'd nap." And I did. Slept soundly and fully for the first time in months.

Seven years ago today at 4:00, they told me that Brynna wasn't able to leave the nursery yet. She was having respiratory distress. They wheeled my bed up to the window of the nursery so I could look in. For some reason, I believed that she wasn't going to make it. That they weren't telling me how bad it was but that this might be the last time I saw her alive. I laid there gazing at her, trying to take in every detail. They finally moved me to my room.

Seven years ago today at 6:00, the nurses told me that they were going to give her two more hours in the nursery. At that point, she would have to be well enough to move to my room or she would have to go to NICU. I nodded, numbly.

Seven years ago today at 8:15 p.m., I heard crying. I heard it way off down the hall and I instantly knew, despite the fact that I had only heard that cry once before and I had been heavily drugged at the time, I knew that it was my girl's cry. I knew that it had to be her. Seven years ago today, I listened to that cry get louder and closer and louder and closer and I waited, knowing that this time it wouldn't pass my door. Afraid to say anything, because I might be wrong, but knowing all the same. Seven years ago today, my door opened and they pushed in that little cart that was full to brimming with my screaming, wailing, precious, perfect infant. Seven years ago today, the nurse picked her up and placed her in my arms. She took a deep breath and so did I. Seven years ago, she stopped crying and fell straight to sleep in my arms.

Seven years ago today was the happiest day of my life. It was scary and crazy and wild, but it had what I had longed for so long: a happy ending. My baby sleeping soundly in my arms, breathing deeply, fingers curled around mine.

Happy birthday my girl. Thank you for making my dreams come true. Thank you for needing me as badly as I needed you. Thank you for being mine.

Making It! - Prayer Shawl Edition

2011-09-26T16:16:00.000-04:00

Every night, when I tuck Maren into bed, I snug down the edges of the quilt my mom made her for her last birthday and I say, "Do you know what your blanket is made out of?" And because Maren humors me, she says, "Not anything." Smiling I say, "It's made out of love. NiNi's love for you and every night when you are wrapped up in this blanket, you are wrapped up in love."

I believe that to be true of quilts. There is something amazing about crafting something with such care and love for someone else. You can't possibly do it without putting a little something more than cotton and batting in there.

Doesn't it look soo soft?!?

I believe that the idea of a prayer shawl is something for the recipient to wear while they pray. I could be wrong. My interpretation, however, is that it is made with prayers the same way Maren's cowgirl quilt is made with love.

A friend of mine at church has a dear friend who is fighting a battle with cancer. And is the practice of church ladies everywhere, we sprang to action. (Mostly my mom who is a sort of superhero.) She decided to make a chemo cap for this dear lady and asked me if I had any quick patterns to whip up a prayer shawl. I said that I did (while actually thinking of a baby blanket pattern that I thought I could adapt.) However, when we chose the yarn from her stash, I immediately knew that my baby blanket pattern would not work. To the notebook I went.

The funny thing about this pattern is that I almost didn't even print it. It was so simple and the alternating v stitch is a design element I've used before. I just thought that I didn't need it. I'm so glad that I did though. I was specifically looking for a pattern that didn't use a great deal of yarn, would be pretty and comfy and would be quick-quick-quick. I'm not sure I ever could have come up with this on my own as a solution.

The pattern was so super easy and I really enjoyed doing it. I ended up taking it with me almost everywhere I went because the repetition was great enough that I never had to refer back to the pattern. The finished size of the pattern is 50" and I thought that was a little short. My finished product was more like 55", but if I were making it for me, I'd want it 60 or 70". Fortunately, this wouldn't be at all difficult to manage with this pattern.

Ignore my weird coloring here.

I do think that I'll crochet this pattern again for a coulple of reasons: 1. It's a pretty succinct, well-written description of a very adaptable stitch. This could be used for almost anything where open work is acceptable. (In other words, no bikinis. Also, no blankets because you'd have all kinds of toes popping through. What, that's only a problem for me? Okay then.) and 2. It would be a really great pattern to use for teaching. It uses a couple of different stitches and would be great for a beginner or for someone who had the basics, but hadn't worked from a pattern before.

I am not quite so thrilled with the yarn. We chose it because of the lovely soft shade of blue and the softness of the yarn. And seriously, feather beds are not this soft. Which is awesome. On the downside, it snapped so easily that I ended up with a LOT of ends, despite working this all from the same skein.

All in all, though, I was quite content with the project. And I promise I've got some more ambitions things currently on the hook. They are mostly gifts, though, so you may be waiting for a while.

Here is my FO on Ravelry, if you swing that way.

Five Things on Friday - Clean Hate Edition

2011-09-23T15:31:00.000-04:00

Brynna is having a sleepover next weekend for her seventh birthday. In addition to the fact that my baby is turning seven and how-in-the-holy-pants-did-that-happen, I am willingly allowing a couple of "tween" girls into my home to stay overnight. Since I have a smallish house and all, this means I have to clean the whole darn thing except for the basement. You know, I'd like to beat them with a dowel rod for even looking in my bedroom door, but I think that would make me a bad hostess.

In any case, this weekend, the clean sweep of doom begins. I am going to work my way through the entire house, cleaning everything in my path and making the whole house look like the seven dwarves' house post Snow White, rather than pre Snow White. If you know what I mean. (If you don't, you may want to work on your Disney trivia and/or have rugrats of your own.

Ceiling to floor cleaning is not my favorite activity, mostly because it's so intensive as to make my head roll around on my shoulders in agony. But now it's even worse, because there is no one else to force into all the jobs I hate. With no further babbling I bring you:

This is not me. This is not even close to me.

Five Things I Absolutely Loathe to Clean

1. Floors - There is no job I hate worse than cleaning the floors and it doesn't even matter what kind of floors we are talking about. I hate sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dust mopping and scrubbing with a toothbrush. I hate carpet cleaning. I have one of those ridiculously overpriced Hoover Floormates (a.k.a. the $100 mop) and I hate it too. I don't know why. I love clean floors, I just hate all the methods of getting there. No, I take it back, I know why. It's because I learned to sweep outside on the sidewalk. And to this day, I can't figure out why you can't just shove everything off the edge of the floor. Why?

2. Windows - I typically don't even bother. No one looks at my windows anyway. However, I have stupid little cat nose prints all over my windows because I have this one dumb cat who refuses to walk outside the door, but longs to go there. At least, so he would have you believe with his face pressing mania. I also hate the smell of Windex, the fact that the windows will smear and streak no matter what I do and the feeling like an idiot that can only occur when you clean something that is covered by curtains 365 days a year. Because I'm that person - the one who never opens my curtains.

3. Appliances - I have all white appliances, which means they appear to be dirty five minutes after cleaning. Also, they are nearly impossible to clean because every little hair or speck of lint on your rag/sponge/whatever will end up stuck to the side somewhere.

4. Tub - Most people hate the toilet. To those people I say, "Whatever, at least you have a little wandy thing to stick down in there. You don't have to climb in the toilet. You totally have to climb in the tub. And even then you are probably going to miss something. Or your kids will come home covered in mud and make you do it over again. Or the cats will decide that this is a nice place to play. Or something. There will be blood if you mess up my clean tub.

5. Under the Couch - I don't know if everyone's under-couch is the magnet that ours are, but they are positively disgusting under there. And I'd like to just ignore it (like I usually do) but I can't, because inevitably once the floor is clean, things will start sticking out from under there. A book. A few sheets of paper. A ridiculously squashed shoe. A cat toy. A pacifier from when Brynna was a baby. Halloween candy. A baseball bat. I spend most of this time saying things like, "Where did that come from? Come on! I did this like two months ago, and I haven't seen that for seven years! I didn't even know we owned a baseball bat." It's like a magical place where objects breed and spawn other weird objects. Perhaps one day it'll just suck me in.

Pray it's not this weekend. And commiserate. What do you hate to clean?

Unicorns, Vampire Slayers and PomPoms

2011-09-21T14:46:00.000-04:00

When I was little, I loved unicorns. I had about a million things with unicorns. Everything from shirts and posters to music boxes and figurines. I was unicorn crazy. It wasn't until I was an actual adult that I found out that my unicorn thing was actually my mom's unicorn thing. She was unicorn crazy first and I just picked it up from her.

It's no secret that sometimes my kids are a complete mystery to me. Brynna and her cheer leading, pink-obsessed, fashionista, Barbie-loving soul make me believe in karma. Maren's big things are horses and horsepower. I don't get horses. And as for things that run, I love to drive, that's about as far as that goes.

That kid in the middle?
The one throwing me a dirty look?
That one's mine.

I'll readily admit that sometimes my kids are a complete and utter enigma to me. Sometimes I stare at the little girl dressing and redressing her Barbies and the one next to her vroom-vrooming her cars around the floor and I wonder where in the world they came from.

This morning was not one of those times. Brynna's been all about the Buffy musical soundtrack lately, so a few weeks ago, I set us up in the bedroom with popcorn and kool-ade and we watched the episode. I had carefully thought out each scene and what was going to need some explaining and what I hoped she just didn't notice. It went swimmingly. Until she asked if she could watch the rest of them and I had to say no. Then came the desire to dress up as Buffy for Halloween.

My first thought at this request was euphoria tinged with pride. Until I realized what this meant. First of all, dressing up like Buffy means just wearing normal clothes for the most part. I mean we could try to do one of her more memorable outfits, but why bother when your audience is a bunch of second graders. Secondly, at her school, you have to dress up as a character in a book and then bring the book to school. So, not only was I going to send my seven year old out into the world dressed as a normal person on Halloween, but I was going to arm her with one of my graphic novels (which aren't exactly appropriate and are also quite precious to me).

I hope no one left the keys in it.

I've talked her into Laura Ingalls Wilder; which I think is better for everyone involved.

But this morning took the cake. The girls were singing a duet in the backseat of "Going through the Motions," when it came our turn in car line. Brynna hopped out, blew me a kiss and skipped merrily into the school. As I was pulling away, Maren broke into song. It seems my two-year old knows all the words by heart.

Yes, sometimes the Princess and the Shop Girl astound me. But sometimes they make perfect sense. Sometimes they are a little of me and a whole lotta them and absolutely perfect in every sense.

Um... Hello... Sorry about That

2011-09-20T16:42:00.000-04:00

I've been missing. Sorry. I wasn't hospitalized. Or dead. Or even kidnapped and held for ransom in some very small, hot and dirty room. No I was here. Muddling through my days. Not blogging.

I've had a lot going on. Last week was my Lilybugs week. I've talked about that before, yes? Yes. Giant consignment sale of doom. This was my first sale ever where I made more than I spent. I'm pretty psyched about that. It's a big deal for me. I bought clothes and shoes and a puzzle because I always try to come home with something fun.

Then, there's the other thing. The thing I haven't been talking about. The elephant in the room. You see, this is my home and this is where I talk about stuff. I have a sense of privacy and I don't tell you all every little weensie detail of my life, but I hit the high points. And the low ones. I share, is what I'm saying. I treat you all like my very best girlfriends (even, and possibly especially) those of you who are guys.

So, when there's something big and I'm not ready to talk about it, I tend to tune out. Because to come here and every day and talk about something - anything - that's not the giant thing on my mind feels like lying. Which is sort of ridiculous, but also sort of true.

On the one hand, as the grand queen of everything in this space, I can do what I want. Plus, it's writing and you don't ever have to write anything.

On the other hand, it seems incredibly disingenuous to continue on, la-di-da, like nothing big is going on in my life.

So, I just shut up. It wasn't even on purpose. I spent all of last week getting ready to write. Coming up with things to write. Thinking about writing. And then not writing.

(Yesterday I had a tooth yanked out of my head. There was massive crying, pain pills and I learned that where my teeth are concerned, I am a giant wuss. I'm telling you this because last week I was a horrible person, but you've got to give me a tooth-induced by on yesterday's miss.)

And even today, here it is 4:30 and I still haven't decided what I am and am not going to say in this here post - the one that I am writing even now. Sharing is hard. Especially when it involves other people. Especially when it's personal. Especially when you don't really want to talk about it. And all three - oh my.

So, here goes. Simplest terms. Bob hasn't been home in a month. I don't know what that means or what's going happen. I have no plan other than get by and take care of myself and my girls. I am okay. Let me repeat that last part: I am okay. I am not angry or terribly hurt or collapsing in a sea of grief. I am okay. You shouldn't worry about me. I just felt like you should know, that's all.

Five Things on Friday - Smile Edition

2011-09-09T16:09:00.000-04:00

I've been having some stuff lately. Stuff that I'm just not ready to talk about here. In any case, it's been okay, fine, really, but it's been hard to find the joy. I've been stressed and worried and other things that basically mean the same thing, and although I've been FINE, this week has finally been different.

This week, I've found the joy. At least some. In any case, I thought I'd share

Five Things That Made Me Smile This Week

1. Harry Dresden - The latest installment, Ghost Story, finally made it to my name on the library waiting list. I love me some Harry Dresden and this book was no disappointment. Not only did it repeatedly make me smile, laugh out loud and bless my lucky stars for discovering this joy, but I also stayed up until 1 a.m. and bawled like a newborn baby at the end. Oh. My. Goodness. Heart ripped out of my body and beaten to a pulp and then... Oh, I can't ruin it for you, but trust me. This one is good. So very good. And now I absolutely can't wait for the next one.

2. True Blood - I read the Sookie books when that's all they were, back before the show changed our image of each and every character. But, since I don't have Netflix, get HBO or have any other way of getting involved in the most popular vampire show on TV, I haven't watched it. Until now. I've watched the majority of the first season this week on DVD and wow, does it bring the crazy. You should be warned, this show isn't for anyone. If you can't appreciate the most ridiculous vampire story ever, a whole lot of inappropriate sex, terrible language and gore for days, then you should probably just watch something else. It has definitely brightened my last few days, though. Silly, vampires.

3. Batman - Just this.

4. The Doctor - After a weird midsummer hiatus, the Doctor has been back for about three weeks now, and I am loving the second half of this season. Amy and Rory have definitely replaced Donna as my all-time favorite companions ever. I am missing my River, though. And still - I cannot figure out how they are going to solve that little problem of the DOCTOR BEING DEAD! The writers don't seem to be in any hurry, and honestly, neither am I. I am loving every second of this.

5. These Guys - Just this, too.

Haikus About Childrearing

2011-09-08T15:46:00.001-04:00

It is 3 a.m.
She wails from the next room
My head bangs the wall
_________

Tomorrow morning
Will be without fights and screams
Or possibly not
_________

Please pick up your toys
Pick them up right now or else
Aargh! Legos are sharp
_________

Independent cuss
Or strong and willful leader
Please remind me which
_________

Pajama cuddles
The smell of clean hair and skin
I love my children

Crowd Phobia and Kids

2011-09-07T15:18:00.000-04:00

You may or may not know that I am highly crowd-phobic.The wonderful world of Google tells me that this is called demophobia. Which sounds about right to me because crowds are demonic. If you've ever seen a zombie mall movie, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

It's sort of like claustrophobia - which I also have a little. It's the feeling of being trapped, of not knowing how to get out of the crowd; of feeling herded that is truly horrific to me.

The simplest solution in my everyday life is to avoid crowds. With the exception of special occasions, I am getting pretty good at this. For instance, I go Black Friday shopping. And I am fine. Because I don't go stand in the crazy throng of people waiting for the door to open and I avoid the electronics. As long as I can move freely, I'm cool and usually this is easy, just slowed down.

Unfortunately, kids are putting a hamper on my crowd avoidance. Kids tend to want to do things that are sort of crowd-imperative. Things like baseball games and amusement parks. Or, you know, Muffins with Mom.

Muffins with Mom is new at my daughter's school this year. Although it's apparently been going on at other area schools for a while. The idea is to offer free muffins and juice (along with the experience of eating breakfast with your very own kid) for free and then lure parents into the book fair.

Let me count the ways in which this is a truly evil empire:

I can, on a non-school day, eat a really enjoyable healthy breakfast with my kid in my spacious airy kitchen with like chairs and stuff. Or on my couch with the TV on, because neither of us is at our best early in the morning. Instead I am being led to believe that eating a mostly stale muffin on the floor of a school where germy children spend their days is a great treat. Because we're together.
I am already expected to attend Family Night at the book fair with my kid (which I do super-early to avoid the crowd) and my parents are schlepped to Grandparent's Day, at the accursed fair. I mean seriously, how many trips to this thing do I have to make? Do you really think I'm going to buy more, rather than divide my money up into smaller budgets for each visit?
Unlike Grandparent's Day and other school events which are done by grade, Muffins with Mom is for everyone at once. So, let's assume that the school is at 80% capacity - a more than generous assumption for the area. Now, let's assume that 75% of students have a mom or mom-substitute. That puts the school at 40%* over capacity. Now, instead of spreading that 40% out over the entire building, let's pack them all into a hallway to eat then send them into a library where the already full of books room has some added tables and shelves for the book fair books. Yeah. Great plan.

I managed to make it through the whole experience without hyperventilating. But I did do some deep breathing exercises in the parking lot after leaving.

The only good news is that my precious sweet daughter is apparently harboring the same issue as she led us to the only empty spot in the whole hallway.

Ah, genetics.

All in all, it was a horrific experience. That I will repeat for the next eight years (because I'm so smart with my age-gapping ability, yo). Why, you ask? Because unfortunately, I love my kids more than my breathing. Or my sanity. And it's just one of those things. I hope they appreciate this some day.

By the way: Mom, thank you ever-so-much for braving whatever it was that was equally horrible to you in the name of being a great mom. I'm guessing that Girl Scouts and Ice Capades were particularly awful and you should know that I appreciate it.

*Don't ask me to explain my math. It involves substitute numbers and other unscientific oh-crap-I-can't-remember-mathness.

Five Things on Friday - Long Weekend Edition

2011-09-02T14:44:00.000-04:00

This weekend, I have nothing planned. I mean that pretty literally. I have no where to be, nothing that has to be done and a great expanse of vastiness awaiting my presence. That's not to say that I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to visit my ailing (and pitiful) Grandmommy, I'm going to a first birthday party for a little girl at church, I'm going to do laundry and clean the house and read and crochet and finish some craft projects and then actually photograph them so I have something about which to write a Making It! post. I'm also going to get my car ready to sell. Or burn. Whichever is the least frustrating.

And I couldn't be happier about my vast expanse of down time. I hope there are good marathons on TV and that my kids want to nap a lot.

That said, I was thinking about nice holiday weekends and I thought I would share

My Five Ingredients to a Pleasant Holiday Weekend
(Also, there should be an award because they all start with "F")

1. Family - I am one of those gluttons for punishment who truly enjoys being around my family. Almost all of them. Definitely my kids and my mom and dad and little brother. Even if all we do is sit on the couch and watch 42 straight episodes of "Say Yes to the Dress," it's better than not being with them. It helps that I have a pretty rocking family. I mean, no offense to your parents or kids or siblings, but I'm pretty sure mine are better. Just saying. You can comfort yourself with the knowledge that you are probably better than I am.

2. Food - I love food. It shows. But I'm pretty much down with all of it. And holiday food is by far the best. I don't know that I'm going to get much holiday food this weekend, but I am planning on doing some cooking. Cooking is also where it's at. I don't necessarily like the hot kitchen this time of year, but when you make something that makes people's eyes roll back in their heads, it's totally worth it. My grandma hates to cook and she's mostly the one who taught me how to cook. I can easily understand not liking the process, but to me that feeling of making someone else something life sustaining and rilly-rilly good is downright addictive.

3. Fiber - I can't imagine a long weekend or holiday without some yarn and a hook. I'm easily amused. The colder it gets, the more lap covering my projects get. This time of year, I like to knock out things like Christmas tree ornaments and dishrags, saving my sweaters and baby blankets for a time that I don't mind my lap being covered with what amounts to an ever-moving blanket. I haven't decided what I'm going to work on this weekend, but it's going to be epic.

4. Friends - As most of my friends have their own family obligations over holidays, I don't get to hang with the girls like I used to, but even a Sunday night phone chat, knowing you don't have to get up on Monday morning is pretty much worth it.

5. Frosty Beverages - A margarita or a lemonade or a really icy Coke. I'm easy to please in the beverage department. I'm pretty sure I'm going to make some lemonade this weekend. I'm still trying to master the skill.

What are you doing this weekend and what makes for a great holiday weekend in your book?

Is the Night Half Over or Half Begun?

2011-08-31T14:38:00.000-04:00

Some days are better than others. Today, I woke up wanting to curl into a ball and cry. No reason. Well, no particular reason. A bunch of reasons. All the reasons. It doesn't matter so much why, though. Right now, it's the what the matters.

And the what is a box of tissues, a warm bed, a tear-jerker movie and window-rattling sobs. I need catharsis, I need purging, I need to be cleaned out and left empty and clean. I need to get up tomorrow feeling like I can start over from scratch, because scratch is where I am.

Today, I feel filled up with anxiety and worry, fear and sadness, grief and longing. And I need that out and the only way I know to get that out is a good hard cry.

There are few things in life that can't be solved by one of three things: crying, salsa or margaritas. The trifecta could probably bring out world peace. Well, that and naps. I have this whole theory about naps and world peace. But tonight, what I need is crying.

And tomorrow, I have no doubt, nothing will have changed in my life. My problems will still be the same, my challenges unaltered, my failures just as apparent and my losses just as great. But I will be different. I will be made whole by breaking down.

A phoenix needs ashes to rise.

I feel like this every once in a while. It could just be personality, or maybe everyone is like this. Maybe there's something wrong with me - but if there is, it's at least very manageable. I spend most of these "some days" putting on my happy face and telling funny stories, relating tidbits and laughing when I can. I cover up my gloom, because I don't want the world to bear it with me. Partially because that's unfair and partially because I know that no amount of sharing will lessen this load.

But today I read this and I agree that it's good to talk about the good things. It's good to feel the joy and the thankfulness and the love and the wholeness. It's good to see the glass half full and the night half over. I don't however agree (with the comments, not so much Kristen whose point is that people should be allowed to be happy) that it's somehow not good to talk about the bad things.

There is darkness in the world. Deep, penetrating, soul-chilling darkness. And it's perfectly fine to revel in the light, but to ignore the darkness only gives it strength. To quit talking about the sad things, the upsetting things, the hurtful things - opens the door for those things to grow bigger and bigger and steal what's left of the light.

I think about how many problems we've solved and lessened by talking about them. Talking about a thing (or blogging about a thing) gives you power to shape it. The power to tell others it's okay. To hold it in your hand, crumple it in your fist and rule over the evil instead of the other way around.

After all, a phoenix needs ashes to rise.

Five Things on Friday - Angry Chick Music Edition

2011-08-26T15:17:00.000-04:00

I've been hankering for some angry chick music all week. I could explain it, but that would be boring. Unfortunately, I loaned out all my angry chick CD's approximately three years ago (I am thinking that I am not getting them back.) Also, yes, I still live in the 20th century and only own music on CD. What do you want?

Anyway, as my jonesing throughout the week has worsened, I have focused on a couple of songs that I particularly would like to hear. A lot.

My Five Favorite Angry Chick Songs

1. "You Outta Know" by Alanis Morissette - Call me a product of my generation (it's okay, I really don't mind), but I think that this Morissette missive redefined the world of angry chick rock. There were a few songs out there and a couple of artists had even made a career out of vocalizing an entire gender's anger, but Alanis brought it to the forefront. This song was everywhere and everyone knew all the words to it. Alanis became synonymous with girl-rage and inspired an entire movement of angry songs. Without this one, we would have been bereft of a lot of great songs that came after. Sing it Alanis - he should have known.

2. "Since U Been Gone" by Kelly Clarkson - Okay, so I hate American Idol and everything for which it stands. The idea of popularizing the manufacturing of "pop stars" sickens me. And from the very beginning, I wanted nothing to do with this show or anything or anyone it produced. Then Kelly won and everyone was all swooning over her and - whatever - I was above it all. Then, one day, I found myself going down the road, screaming this song at the top of my lungs and I realized something. I have to like someone who makes me sing so loud I get a sore throat. It's like a requirement.

3. "Kerosene" by Miranda Lambert - There are angry chick country songs. But the last few years have seen a relative explosion. No more "Stand by Your Man," or even "Whoever's in New England." No, the women of country have embraced - pretty much as a whole - "These Boots were Made for Walkin'" and I think that's a good thing. Miranda, for what it's worth, has a pretty good spot in that. She has more angry songs than anyone else I can think of, including the Dixie Chicks. And she's better at it than Taylor Swift, who I love anyway. There's something powerful to me in the imagery of this song. Burn it down, honey!

4. "Out of Me" by Ani DiFranco - I discovered Ani in college (I guess nearly everyone who has discovered Ani discovered her in college) and after a particularly nasty break-up, I laid on my dorm room floor for hours on end listening to the entire Dilate album. (Remember that, remember when albums were a thing and a cohesive theme and feel to a collection of songs made greatness? Yeah, me too.)

5. "Piece of My Heart" by Janis Joplin - A list of girls and music is never complete (as least when completed by Jessi) without some Janis. It's hard to think of Janis as angry for me, because she's just so impassioned, so powerful. But take a moment and really listen, soak up the growl in her voice and the sarcasm in the words. This is anger. This is barely concealed rage. This is what angry girl music is all about. Love ya, Janis.

What's your favorite piece of angry chick music?

A Grungy Mother's Reservations About Cheerleading

2011-08-25T15:12:00.001-04:00

Brynna wants to be a cheerleader. She has wanted to be a cheerleader since she was three years old and she went to her first high school football game. I blame myself. If I hadn't taken her to football games, I wouldn't be in this predicament. I do love my baby brother, though. And I spent every spare moment pointing out how cool the band was. *sigh*

In any case, she has asked me if she could be a cheerleader approximately every week for the past two years. I went through everything from "you're not old enough," to "okay, let's try gymnastics," and even the ever popular, "I'll see what I can do," followed by abject rejection of the idea.

I finally gave in. Because she's almost seven and she should have some say in her own life. Because I am hoping that she won't like it and we'll be done as soon as we get through the season. Because I don't want to keep telling her no forever. And mostly because my desire to keep her from cheering has little to do with her and a lot to do with me. And I know that's not fair.

I'm going to be brutally honest, here. Forgive me if you are a former cheerleader, a current cheerleader or a cheermom (*gulp). There's a lot I don't like about cheerleading. In the first place, and just about my only intellectual argument - I think it's misogynistic. I think the idea that girls should "cheer" for the boys while they do something athletic is ridiculous. It all comes back to the antiquated idea that girls can't play sports, so they should support those who can. It's all about putting girls in their place. And their place, apparently, is in too short skirts, jumping up and down.

I think over the years, girls' sports have gained a lot of traction and cheerleading has become a lot more about athletic prowess, which should help the situation, but instead, it has become (in some school districts) a great way to "follow" Title IX dictates, while not even coming close to the spirit of providing more opportunities for girls to play sports.

I hate those things. But I'm going to be honest about something else. College cheerleading competitions? I'm all about them. Despite the fact that I take great pride in having as my Alma Mater a school which had three cheerleaders, I will watch the competitions on ESPN all night long. I'm pretty sure that's the only reason why I need ESPN, in fact. It is impressive and athletic and amazing to watch and I hate to admit it, but it's a lot more interesting than college gymnastics. I don't know why, it just is.

And so, I'm sort of at an impasse. I can't blame a bunch of seven year olds for the history of the "sport" or for a particular school district's habit of hiding behind pompoms, and I can enjoy some good cheering. But there's something else. Something more insidious.

Cheerleaders. They were always the mean girls when I was in school. They were better than me, and never failed to tell me all about it, when they deigned to speak to me at all. This started in third or fourth grade. By the time high school came around, I could clearly understand the caste system, because I was on the bottom and they were on the top.

I was a flannel shirt wearing, Nirvana listening, book reading drama geek and academic team nerd. I hung out with the band geeks and they improved my social standing. They were the golden girls who tossed their curls and giggled too much and gossiped and told lies about lowly old me and my lowly old friends.

I don't want Brynna to live my life. I want her to make her own choices; I want her to follow her heart and know that she owns her life and she can be anything she wants. But I don't want her to live their lives either. I don't want her to be a mean girl. I don't want her to toss her hair and look down her nose. I want her to have a kind heart and an amazing voice. I want her to stand up for the downtrodden, not kick them when they're down.

Brynna is a good kid. She's smart and funny and amazing and creative. She's going to be an artist and she wants to learn to play banjo. She does take up for people and try to right wrongs. I am fiercely proud of her every day and I guess I'm going to have to trust that her spirit and goodness and kindness will win out. That her desire to be her own independent person will always trump her desire to be "one of the girls."

In the meantime, I'm going to be a cheermom. Wish me well. I wasn't cut out for this.

Stressity Stressed Stressed Stressed

2011-08-23T16:16:00.000-04:00

I'm having a bad week. Last week was also a bad week. It's not bad - per se - it's just really stressful. I've got a lot on my mind and when I've got a lot on my mind, I can't seem to focus on much more than the lot that's there - on my mind. Everything else becomes a big blur of random thinkiness: maybe yellow in the kitchen, where's my shoes, I don't own a vacuum, I think I'm supposed to be working, when does Brynna start upwards?

In other words, I develop SIADD - Stress Induced Attention Deficit Disorder*.

This makes writing hard. It also makes working hard. And making a grocery list, on which I have spent the last hour. The only two things I can sucessfully do are housecleaning - I don't know why. And surf the internet.

I am an archetype of productivity.

In any case, I thought I would give you a selection of cute kid things:

Brynna is getting a lot of compliments on her new hair. I am loving it, because she was feeling pretty down about how everyone always compliments Maren on her curls. Every time someone tells her that her hair is pretty, however, she responds by saying, "It was supposed to be a punishment, but I love it. I don't think Mommy understands punishments."

**

Maren is having nightmares about zoo animals. Of course this sucks because it's nightmares and she wakes up and then I have to wake up, but it does produce these hillarious conversations regarding whether or not the lion knocked over her smelly oil (reed diffuser) or if the monkeys are coming to Brynna's room. It's nice to have the humor at three a.m.**

**

Brynna was very tired the other night and wanted to go to sleep in the car. After I strapped her in, I reclined her seat a bit so she would be "laying down." She asked me to show her how to use the lever and now she nearly always rides reclined. However, if you say something she doesn't like, she'll bug her eyes out and pop it up suddenly, so she's like a shocked jack-in-the-box. Then, she very slowly lowers the seat again - as if to let you know that you're on notice.

*Not a real thing

**Or so I tell myself at three a.m.

The Remake and the Reimagining

2011-08-16T15:37:00.001-04:00

It seems like every time I turn around something is being remade or re-imagined. Did you know that there are three versions of Snow White currently in production? And this all points in a variety of directions.

First of all, there is obviously a dearth of creativity going on. Remember that summer there were two apocalyptic meteor movies? And everyone saw one and chances are you can't even remember the title of the other. Can you imagine the summer of three Snow Whites? Well, get ready, because it's coming.

And honestly, I don't expect filmmakers to have a million bazillion great ideas about movies. We may think they used to but the truth is that they never did. They had some. And they still have some, but most of what you're looking at in that super-cold, super-dark room while stuffing your face with popcorn is a remake or re-imagining of something. Maybe a book or a TV show or God-help-us a board game. Comic books, songs, picture books, and video games have all inspired movies and that's okay. That's great, actually. Because, typically, I am a fan girl of some shade and I get really excited about seeing something I love make it to the big screen.

And the truth is that there are still plenty of good ideas. There are still good books being written, good songs being sung, good games being created (ugh) and good TV shows that could benefit from a little big screeniness. So why aren't there more "original" movies? By this I mean movies that haven't already been movies, because I think we've established that there is nothing new under the glaring lights.

I hate to break it to you guys, but it's our fault. First of all, there's the economy. I'm not sure if you've heard, but it sucks and that means that people are going to the movies less often. Combine that with the wonders of RedBox and Netflix and people are going to the movies a lot less. So, the powers that be out there are sticking with what they know will bring in the cash. This breaks down into two categories: things that go boom and things that have brought in the big bucks before.

Things that go boom aren't going anywhere. As long as there are cushy seats above sticky floors, someone will be exploding something on screen. We don't have to worry too much about that. But things that have already done well, that's something else entirely.

They are remaking Total Recall. When I heard that, I was like, "Great. Cool. Amazing." Because I like We Can Remember it for You Wholesale. And Arnold sucks. But, it turns out they are going to remake the movie and not do a new, truer to the book version and that disappoints me. But, you know, Total Recall made a lot of money. A lot of money. Despite some amazingly terrible effects. You know what, though, I'm gonna see it. Because it won't have Arnold, so it's gotta be better.

And I just read that they are remaking The Stand. Personally, I think this is excellent news. Because I loved the book and I think the miniseries version is an abomination. I can't wait for this one. And I'm not sure how they measure the gross of a miniseries, but let's face it - Stephen King brings the bucks when it's done right.

Of course, there's The Smurfs. But that's our fault too. We (and I am speaking specifically to my generation here) are a nostalgic bunch of idiots. We get all hyped up over Rainbow Brite and squeal in ecstasy when someone mentions Cabbage Patch Kids. Look at the response to Transformers. Seriously. And now Cartoon Network is remaking Thunder Cats and my husband is trying to arrange his schedule around it. This was inevitable. Don't pretend it wasn't.

And this isn't all bad. Or all new. There have been (according to me and my very intsense IMDB research) 8 versions of Pride and Prejudice and 14 versions of Little Women beginning over 100 years ago. Without remakes we would be stuck with the original version of The Fly. And without re-imaginings, we'd be bereft of Romeo + Juliet. Of course, not everything works out that well, but it's all trial and error, isn't it. We just won't know if this version of Dracula will be The version of Dracula.

The biggest problem is that this is vicious cycle of evil. The more sucky remakes Hollywood churns out, the fewer people will pack their houses of 3D doom, and the fewer people sucking down 432 oz. Cokes, the suckier (and safer) the movies will get. One of us is going to have to break the cycle. I guess I'll see you at the very, very mediocre movies.

Making It! - Spring/Summer Wreath

2011-08-15T15:26:00.000-04:00

I have discovered that I am obsessed. With wreaths. I never knew this about myself. My husband probably could have told you that I harbored an obsession based on the 752 wreaths in my basement and the compulsion to always buy grapevine wreaths at yard sales. I've always enjoyed making wreaths and when I started my Random Craftiness book, I knew that wreaths needed their own section, because I already had a lot of ideas ready to go.

Then, I joined Pinterest. (You may have heard.) In any case, I started out throwing wreath ideas in my "For the Home" Board and quickly realized they needed their own board. Now I have so many ideas that I am sad to only have two doors. I wonder if would look crazy to start sticking wreaths on the basement doors.

Anyway, before the Pinterest obsession, I whipped up this little number for Spring and Summer. I started with this inspiration from The Lettered Cottage. I wanted something that would be inviting for Spring and Summer so I wouldn't have to change it after a few days. (For those unacquainted with Kentucky weather, Spring typically lasts 2.3 days.)

Welcome Spring! and Summer, since it's August already.

I loved the idea of wrapping the wreath with scrap yarn and thought that wrapping a little twig was a great addition. However, I wanted mine to be a bit more minimalist than theirs. What I was going for was sweet and simple. Not too much going on.

I started with a purchased foam wreath from the floral department of my local-ish craft store. Then I added the yarn by dabbing on a bit of craft glue and then wrapping into the craft glue - working about 1-2 inches at a time. I used plain craft yarn that I had left over from a Haloween costume, but you could use anything you've got around, and, in fact, the heavier - the better.

Afterward, I used some yellow baby yarn to wrap the branch and glued it to the wreath (covering the worst of the overlapping). A happy pink silk flower later and we were good to go. I wanted to add a birds' nest, but never found one that I liked. So I went with this. Rocket surgery it isn't. But I like it. This could be done with just about any colors you like. The total cost of the project was around $3 for the wreath form, since everything else I used was scrap. And the total time spent on the project was about 4 hours. (That yarn takes longer to wrap than you think it's going to - give yourself plenty of time.)

I'm already excited about fall and have about a million ideas for great fall wreaths. I can't wait! Tell me what hangs on your front door? Anything? The same thing year round? Or are you wreath obsessed too?

Five Things on Friday - Ridiculous Spending Edition

2011-08-12T13:51:00.000-04:00

At approximately midnight last night, there was a loud crashing noise from the front portion of my house. Bob and I both sat straight up in bed and looked at each other with alarm.

"You go, I'm in my underwear," he said to me.
"Whatever. You go. The girls need me to live more."

A few minutes later he got back and tumbled into bed.

"It's fine."
"Ooookay. Well, what was it?"
"The cats playing in the tub," this was muffled by whatever the manly version of giggling is.
"I cannot figure out for the life of me why they do that," I responded.
"Because the tub drips every once in a while and they like running water." Bob is ever the pragmatic one even at midnight.
"When I'm rich, I'm going to buy one of those automatic cat water fountains," I responded. This, in turn set off a whole list of things we would buy if we were rich. Which was kind of funny and probably tells you more about me than an entire personality inventory.

Five Things I Would Buy If I Were Rich

1. Retro Appliances - Of all the cool, but totally ridiculous things that I want for my kitchen (and trust me, there are a lot) this is probably the coolest and the most ridiculous. I don't know what the appeal is, but I really, really want appliances that are a fun color and look like they came straight from 1952 in a time machine. Like the Doctor brought my kitchen. I'm most swayed by fridge's, but ovens and even dishwashers have the capacity to make me drool.

2. Pens - I'm going to tell you this at the risk of sounding very, very cheap. I don't like to buy pens. Pens sort of happen. You know, politicians leave them in your door, banks hand them out, ones from work accidentally get stuck in your planner. But despite this, I am a lover of good pens. I'm not talking about fancy-schmancy silver pens or fountain pens or the type of pen you want to have on an interview. I'm talking about pens that make it enjoyable to write. My favorites are Uniball vision elites and I allow myself about one package a year. But someday, there will be maniacal laughter and I will own them in every color.

3.One of those minivans you can move into - Yeah, that's right. Not only would I buy the same style vehicle I already have, but bigger and more ungainly too. I want an entertainment system, separate seat climate control, and some dohicky that could allow my kids to listen to Hannah Montanna to their hearts' content while I rock out to The Offspring - without the volume-knob-cuss-editing. Seating that folds flat into the floor? You betcha! Chairs that swivel around for eating or gameplaying? Of course! Sleeping gas in the backseat vents? Sign me up! I am all about some minivan magic.

4.Two-hour shoes - My friend Jen loves shoes as much, if not more, than I do. She has waay more shoes than I do, though. Part of the reason for that is that she isn't feeding a pack of wild ~~dogs~~ kids. The other part is that she has this fabulous shoe rating system: by hours. An eight hour shoe is a good shoe for work. And all day shoe is good for walking. A four hour shoe should be saved for dates and parties. A two hour shoe is only good for a handful of occasions. I only own all day shoes, because I am too lazy and cheap for this rating system. I drool over shoes, but then I move on and buy another pair of black ballet flats. Why black? Because I'm too cheap for shoes that don't match everything in my wardrobe. Did I mention that I don't buy navy anything because that would require navy shoes?

5.Craft Supplies - I have about 900 projects in my queue. Things I want to do, but can't yet because I need... Well, everything from ribbons to broken windows, from thread to cable spools, from fabric to palettes. Someday, I'll make a master shopping list and a priority list so I know what I need - right now - to do the projects that matter most. In the meantime, I just constantly browse the yarn section.

Okay, your turn? What would you spend the dough on if you didn't have to worry about money? What is the one ridiculous thing that would make your life tick?

Randomness

2011-08-11T16:11:00.000-04:00

Okay, here's the deal. My tooth hurts. Really freakin' bad. One whole side of my face hurts, in fact and doing things like closing my mouth and turning my head cause me trauma. Since the dentist can't see me until Friday and in the meantime, lovingly recommended Tylenol for the immense amounts of throbbing pain, I'm taking leftover pain meds from when Maren was born. They knock me out. Then I spend the first half of the next day being miserably groggy and the second half being wicked unfocused. Oh, plus school started and I'm back to getting up at 5:45. The long and short of this is that you will not be getting an interestingly well-thought-out and cohesive blog post today. You'll be getting randomness. You've been warned.

Move over Chelsea!

So, the punishment haircut happened and it is precious. It makes her look 2 or 3 years older, which is still a good thing when you are six. I can see her eyes 90% of the time now and it is virtually tangle-proof. It gets out of bed cute. Brynna, despite being a little scared and sad about the whole process, got fully on board when I produced a picture of Chelsea Kane and reminded her that she used to play on Jonas. After the haircut was finished (7 inches, fwiw) she danced around the salon. Then she danced home and danced all the next day. I think I won. I'm not sure, because I'm wholey unused to winning, but there you have it. Momma won.

Speaking of winning, and my typical lack thereof... Brynna told me she was sick on the first day of school and I put it down to first day jitters and made her go to school. She had a migraine and threw up in class. On the first day of school. And, since she didn't have time to get to the bathroom, and hadn't yet figured out where the trashcan was, she thew up in her sweater. To keep it off the floor. So conscientious. Also, I lost that one.

I just realized that it's Thursday and I never got the "Making It!" post for this week done. Forgive me. I promise to do better.

I've spent the last two days trying to fix the copier. I have taken it apart, shook the toner cartridge and generally tried everything imaginable. I finally gave up and called the copier guy. I forgot to take out the paper strip that keeps toner from leaking all over the box. Now, I look like an idiot. It's okay. I pretty much am.

My addiction to Pinterest is reaching new heights. I'm going to need a twelve step program very soon. Anyone else obsessed? If not, you should be. Seriously, best internet invention since blogging. And you guys know how much I love blogging. You should check out my boards. They are still managable, but in a few weeks, I will have pinned the entire Internet. Get ready.

What about you? What's been randomly filling your mind this week?

A Short Treatise on Why Birthdays Are Important to Me

2011-08-08T16:34:00.000-04:00

My mother stopped aging a few years back. She is now, eternally 29. I think that rocks. Because, literally, my mom stopped aging. It's not like she's some crazy yuppie with her heels stuck in her purse while she wears sneakers and a skirt suit to work, claiming eternal youth. She doesn't yell, "Getttoff my lawn..." or call people whippersnappers. She is who she is and she is 29.

I am 33. Sometimes it's hard being older than my mother. You may or may not know that my mother is my absolute heroine. She is the wind beneath my wings and other corny things. I strive to be just like her. Not because she's perfect, but because I even love and look up to her faults. Her faults are the kind of faults I want to have.

And, to some extent, every year I have the opportunity to just quit aging. To join my mother at eternal 29-ness. And every year I choose to keep going. This weekend, as we celebrated my brother and my birthday multiple times (because we are those people), I really got to thinking about why. Why it's important to me to keep aging. To not be 29 anymore. Even though in my soul, I believe I'm actually about 17.

First of all, I truly consider every year to be an accomplishment. Every year that I get through, that I survive and wake up a little wiser than last year is worthy of celebration. It's not that I'm so proud of myself for continuing to breathe for another year, it's that by the time August 3 rolls around, I feel like I deserve a little recognition. It seems like any more, every year is a hard year. I suppose some day I'll grow out of that, but in the meantime, I aim to spend that day breathing a sigh of relief that there's another year I don't have to re-live.

Secondly, there's something in me that needs to mark time. I often catch myself reciting like a litany, "I graduated high school at 17, college and marriage at 22, had and lost Ethan at 25, had Brynna at 26, Maren at 30..." I'm not sure why this is important to me, but I want to remember. When I had and left jobs. When my kids hit milestones. When I made changes. I don't want to forget these things. Deciding to remain 29 seems like giving up. From then on, everything would be when I was 29. I refuse to believe that there are no more events worth marking in my mental time line, so I need to keep counting.

Celebrating birthdays is important to me, because I think we all deserve a day set aside just for us. That's why I feel so sorry for those born on Christmas or their sister's birthday. We all need a very special day that is just ours. My mom still celebrates birthdays, though, she just doesn't age. I need the whole package.

Maybe I'll still change my mind. I think she was 32 when she decided to hold at 29. It's still possible. But for now, I'm content with growing a little older all the time.

Chopped

2011-08-04T16:20:00.000-04:00

Brynna has this thing with hair brushing. Part of it is that she has a really tender head and it hurts. Part is that she is melodramatic and makes a much bigger deal out of it than it is.

She's been "growing out her hair" for about a year. For about a year, I've been harping on her to brush her hair, she's been ignoring me and then after two or three days of this nonsense, I sit down and drag a brush through the tangled mess of hair which may or may not be playing host to a small family of birds and she screams like a banshee.

It's fun.

Not really.

Every time I do this - EVERY TIME, I swear that if she doesn't do a better job of keeping her hair brushed, I'm going to chop it off. Bob threatens to shave it. I always give in to the pleading and crying and promises to do better.

This is because I used to have to world's worst haircut. I wish I had a picture for your perusal, but alas, I've banned them from my house. It was short, kind of like a pixie cut, but too long in the back and it was curly. It never looked nice and it made me feel like a little boy in pink clothes. I hated it more than anything else in my early elementary years. I hated that haircut more than gym class and more than the bus and more than The Smurfs (which I loved for a few years and then became oddly derisive of, but refused to quit watching).

I am, simply put, sympathetic to her plight. I, too, wanted long hair. I, too, had a very sensitive head and much drama was had every time it must be brushed. The memory of the six year old me with that terrible shorn head has been preventing me from inflicting a similar fate on my darling daughter.

(By the way - traumatic hair cuts = first world problems, yo.)

But no longer. I have had it. I will not subject myself to the same horror morning after morning. I will not make the choice between horror movie screaming and a kid who looks like she has no mother and certainly not one who is a aware of basic grooming needs. I will not lose small brushes in the knots, go through a bottle of leave-in conditioner a week or discover random hair clips halfway through brushing anymore. I am making a stand. I am taking her to the salon.

But because of my aforementioned trauma, I am making this the nicest punishment ever. I am pre-selecting a handful of haircuts and she gets to pick which one she likes. If there are tears, I'll probably even work in some ice cream. (Because I am a big ole sucker and a terrible disciplinarian.)

And thus, my current trauma: finding said haircuts. My mom has sent me a couple and they are pretty nice. I've found a couple more. But I'm just not sure if any of them will work. Partially because they are all adult haircuts. Do you know what you get when you Google "little girl haircuts?" Go ahead, I'll wait. I'll tell you what you get - toddlers with bobs and teenagers. That's it. Where are the other haircuts? Does every small child in this varied country have a bob? Bobs with bangs, without bangs and with stupid bangs. Then, for good measure there are a couple of shots of girls with long hair or really crazy curly hair.

So, wish my child luck and think of her fondly on Tuesday, when her beloved locks of knots are chopped off. Hope we've found something good by then.

33 Things to do While I am 33

2011-08-03T13:28:00.001-04:00

Where's my singing?

Today is my birthday! (Everyone cheer.) It's another year and I feel like nothing much has changed since last year. It doesn't seem like a whole year has even passed and I can't help but feel like time is slipping through my fingers faster than it used to. And I know, I know... That's just what happens when you get ancient like me. Fine, whatever. It's also what happens when you stop paying attention. I want to pay attention.

So, a couple months ago, I came across this idea and decided to adopt it for my very own. I wish I could find where I got it in the first place, but whatever...

33 Things to do While I am 33
1. Build something - like with wood and stuff
2. Start school - for realies
3. Go geocaching with Brynna
4. Write a book - even a bad one
5. Grow something
6. Fix my front flower beds
7. Fix the front of my house - so it looks like someone lives there
8. Sew something
9. Become that lady who is really good at sending greeting cards
10. Join my church
11. Find a new Sunday School teacher - so I can quit - sort of accomplished 9/30/11
12. Do a closet inventory
13. Paint the kitchen and cabinets
14. Make a will
15. Rebuild my emergency fund
16. Do something family funnish once a month
17. Take an actual trip which requires a bag
18. Track what I read
19. Read the Jane Yellowrock books
20. Crochet 5 Christmas presents
21. Learn to knit
22. Knit a scarf to prove that I can
23. Learn to smock
24. Make something smocked for the girls
25. Clean the basement
26. Make art
27. Finish Maren's bedroom - from last December ya'll
28. Go to a concert
29. Work out a cleaning schedule and stick to it
30. Learn to bake bread - not from a can
31. Have a girls' event
32. Walk a 10 mile day
33. Pay off credit cards

Not all of it sound exciting, but it all sounds good. To me, at least.

Apparently, I'm Usually Suzie Sunshine

2011-08-02T16:23:00.000-04:00

Today, I was commenting on some work one of our vendors did for the nonprofit for which I work. I mentioned how terribly blown out one of the graphics was and how it was especially noticeable next to the other one, which was fine.

"I've never heard you be so negative," she responded.

"Well, I'm just a bastion of good cheer," I replied in my most non cheery monotone voice.

The good news is that she usually thinks I am apparently, because that wasn't even that negative.

It's weird, because I generally think of myself as a Negative Nelly, a Worrying Wanda, a Martha, rather than a Merry. I'm not sure why I come across as cheerful and upbeat to some people, when to me, it seems like I'm constantly losing the war against utter Eeyore-dom.

I feel like I'm a big ole whiner most of the time around here, for instance. I feel like I am constantly pointing out what is wrong, rather than what is right. I'm the first to say that I can't go because I'm broke. The first to say that I'm struggling. The first to curl up pitifully and say that I'll clean the house tomorrow.

I wonder if I'm different at work, or if I'm different than my perception of me.

Five Things on Friday - Summer Movie Edition

2011-07-29T16:15:00.000-04:00

You know how summer movie has come be mean big, action-adventure, blowing-sh..stuff-up movies? Yeah. I don't get it. I mean, I get it. I get that there are more movie goers in the summer so if your movie cost more to make than the GDP of a moderately-sized nation, you want to put it out in the summer. I get that. What I don't get is why people want to watch stuff blow up in the summer.

Don't get me wrong - I am all for blowin' stuff up. Last night, Bob was watching Ancient Aliens, which is my least favorite show on the planet. I mean, I'd rather watch just about anything than pseudo-intellectuals wax rhapsodic about the possibility that aliens watch over our planet like an ant farm. In any case, I watch for five minutes and then I get mad. Last night, after hearing them talk about how the moon was a hollow space station (they actually compared it to the Death Star) I huffed, "I'm watching Burn Notice in the bedroom. I'd rather watch shit blow up."

I just don't understand the correlation. Why is summer better for watching stuff blow up?

With that as my premise, I present:

Five Movies that are More Fun to Watch in the Summer

1. One Crazy Summer - This is perhaps, my favorite 80's movie. Let me list its assets: John Cusak - at the height of his precious, Demi Moore - before she was creepy, the world's ugliest dog and evil Fluffy Bunnies. I can't explain my devotion to this movie. It's not as funny or quotable as Better Off Dead. And yet... And yet I've seen it a million times and fully plan to make a "Dew Drop Inn" sign for my house and see who gets it. Plus, summer is right there in the name. If you haven't seen this, well, if you haven't seen this you probably have never had cable. And therefore, are probably way too high-brow to enjoy watching a lonely hippo stab a bunch of pink bunnies to death, or giggle with glee at a very bad animatronic shark.

2. 30 Days of Night - Okay, against all conventional summer wisdom, I'm going to have to go with a movie that takes place practically at the North Pole during the winter. But, c'mon, who doesn't want to feel cold when it's 107? I'm all about it. Bring on the ridiculous snow and the ice covered everything, the total and complete darkness, and oh yeah, the scariest movie vampires ever. Please, try and make me cold. In addition to the chilliness of this flick, it's just a damn fine movie.

3. National Lampoon's Vacation - Obvs. I genuinely think that this is the best of the Vacation movies. I know some people would argue for Christmas, but they are, unequivocally wrong. This, for me, is truly evocative of the adventure of loading up the car with everyone in your blood line and striking out, while muttering, "We're gonna have fun if it kills us." Plus, the dead aunt is hysterical. Oh, and the amusement park hold-up. Oh, and did you know that the pot-smoking, daisy dukes wearing cousin is Jane Krakowski. She was always my secret favorite part of the movie.

4. Jaws - Ah, the open water. The sea and the beach. Sand castles, the lapping sea and a man-eating shark on a mission. Despite the fact that this movie is fairly ridiculous, it's also amazing and has truly made many a man afraid to go back in the water. That iconic duh-dun, duh-dun... is enough to instill this movie forever in the annals of cinema. Just think of this as your good reason I didn't go to the beach this year movie. You'll be glad you did.

5. Steel Magnolias - I know this movie spans years and hits pretty much every season, but it gets bonus summer points for being set in the Deep South, ya'll where it's always hotter than your Aunt Henny's Biscuits. Also, it starts in the summer. Every time I hear Cajun music, I swear I think of "two hogs fightin' under a blanket." Steel Magnolias is actually good any ole time of year, as it is one of the world's finest movies, but as a summer movie, it covers all the bases. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll do both at the same time (which is Truvy's favorite) and you'll want to name your next baby Shelby.

Nearly

2011-07-27T16:46:00.000-04:00

The following is a piece of writing. It's mostly true. True enough that calling it fiction would be disingenuous. I guess you could call it an essay of sorts. Only shorter.

Yesterday, in traffic, I was cut off by a stereotype. A silver haired woman in a gold Cadillac decided that my lane looked preferable and she was going there no matter who was already traveling in it. I hit the brakes and the horn at the same time and as my heart accelerated and then slowed, I began thinking about near-misses.

My driving record is hardly spotless, but it's not terrible either. In fact, if you are not a deer or a light pole, you probably have little to fear from my mama minivan. All the same, when I think about the dangers of cars, what I concentrate on with the highest intensity is the almost-wrecks. The times that through skill, or more likely dumb luck, I've managed to avoid a life-altering, if not life-ending catastrophe.

These, I think are my favorite stories. I start them, "Did I ever tell you about the time I nearly killed a cop?" Or "You know, I once almost went under a semi." What I love about these stories is that there is plenty of drama, fear, horror, and suspense. But in the end, you know and I know it's going to turn out fine. I know because I was there. You know because I'm not telling you the story from beyond the grave or prison.

These are the good near misses. The things that could have terribly, but instead went okay. The time I caught the kitchen on fire and nearly burned down the house. The time I accidentally overdrew my bank account by nearly $1,000 and almost lost everything. The time I almost lost Brynna in Kohl's. The time I almost forgot to get Maren from the babysitter. At the end of each of those days there was the delicious mixed emotion of truly knowing what you have to lose and how close you are every day to losing it.

There are bad near misses. The things that should have gone beautifully, but ended badly. The time I nearly I had a son. The time I nearly caught the door before it shut on Maren's hand. The time I almost got a really great job. The time I almost knew when to leave. These are not stories I like to tell. And the end of these days were filled with a deep-seeded regret.

But what the good and bad near misses share, and why they are vital to our lives, is that they are a peek into a different life. I'm sure you've all heard and read the theory that there are a million universes parallel to our own just like ours, but for one small change. Perhaps that's what we see. Every time we experience a near miss, we glimpse the world as it would have been, for better or worse, and then we are left to survive or thrive with what is.

If you believe, as I do, that everything happens for a reason and that every action helps to build the person you need to be for something down the line, then I suppose these near misses are checkpoints on the journey. "Ah," the voice in the sky seems to say, "Before we see what's behind your door, let's take a peek at what you are passing up." Sometimes the choice was yours, sometimes it wasn't. Sometimes it was wise, sometimes it wasn't.

What is inevitable is that this time won't be your last. You will stand on that stage again, casting your mind's eye into a future that cannot possibly exist. Because there will always be sharp right turns and the whiz of a bullet parting your hair.

Heat + Jessi = Crankypants

2011-07-26T16:18:00.000-04:00

Who's comin' with me?

Have I mentioned the heat wave? It has "broken" which means that I no longer risk life and limb just by driving home, but it doesn't mean that it feels any less hot to me. I know that I've probably brought this up before, but I am a hot natured person. I get hot easily. I roast right along with the chestnuts if there is anywhere present an open fire. I don't light candles in the summer because they add what I call "ambient heat." I don't go outside unless I can see the shade before I get there and I only wear my coat for about 60 days a year.

Have I painted you a picture yet?

And it's not just that I don't like being hot. I mean I don't like lots and lots of things: needles, sewing, Charlie Sheen, horseback riding or the color orange. But being hot elicits a decidedly physiological reaction from me. When I sweat, my head itches. Itches like lice have infested my brain. I don't know why. All of my clothes feel as if they are made of sandpaper and my goal in life is to not have anything touch me. And when I say anything, I mean my kids.

As much as I love the rugrats and enjoy cuddling to the nth degree, will someone please keep them busy and off of me until the temps hit the 80's again? At least. I feel terribly guilty every single stinking day when I pick up Maren at the baby sitter's and she says, "Pick me UP!" and I say, "Hold my HAND!" I act like I'm teasing her, but I'm seriously hoping that she'll just grab my hand and go.

And Brynna is in this stage where her favorite thing to do is crawl over me like an inconveniently placed pillow. And if I so much as hint that I am not enjoying the added body heat, elbow in my sternum and head between me and the TV, she whines pitifully while looking at me with huge cupie doll eyes that she just "wants to be with me."

Also, I have the energy of a slug. That may not be fair. I'm not sure what kind of energy levels slugs have, but I feel like laying around all blob-like, much as a slug, so I'm going with it. And my temper - she ain't what she used to be and she was never all that great. Seriously, all I want to do is lay around and whine.

My office is ridiculously hot, because my neighbors control the thermostat and they all come in early and turn it off because it's "chilly" and then leave before noon and lock the frickin' door behind them, so by mid-afternoon, my office is a sauna and I am dying in it.

And even when I get home and wallow for a while in the heaven-sent air conditioning (seriously, how does one doubt the existence of God when one is sitting in a 60 degree house when it's 107 outside) I still don't feel all that much better. Okay, I'm not hot anymore, but I am all kinds of previously hot. You know what I mean, that dried sweat, sticky-icky, my energy's already been zapped, can't we just eat Popsicles and popcorn for dinner feeling.

Alrighty. I'm done. That's all the energy I have for weather-related bitching. In fact, that's all the energy I have. I need a nap. Under the fan. Right after I get out of a cold shower. Join me in my heat-whine.

Making It! - Trinket Box Edition

2011-07-25T15:53:00.000-04:00

Lovely with a little necklace, this would also be nice
with a handful of chocolates!

Way back on around Mother's Day, I wanted to make a few little gifts for the occasion. I got one finished. (Does anyone notice a pattern?)

I made this little trinket box for my Mother in Law and stuffed it with a little necklace. You can click here for the pattern I used. I used some of the wonderful hand-dyed sock yarn that Suze gifted me and it worked wonderfully. The wool content gave it a little extra rigidity, especially in the sides, but it didn't lose any of the softness.

It has an overstuffed look
from the side.

The only thing that I had a difficult time with was making the lid fit. Really, the lid won't fit the box when the box isn't full. I found that out the hard way. After about two hours of panicking, I stuffed the box full of tissue paper and the lid slid right on. I also chose to make one larger, two-layered flower rather than the cluster of flowers suggested in the pattern. The reason for this was mostly laziness, but also yarn selection. I didn't want to buy a whole skein of sock weight yarn for three tiny flowers, when I could easily do something like this.

Key shown for scale.

All in all, I was quite pleased with the project. I think it's a lovely way to add something special to a small gift and is very nice as a gift on it's own. I love trinket boxes. If I ever get really and truly bored, I may make a handful of these to keep on hand just for such occasions. I do think I'm going to experiment, though, and try to come up with a square version, the round was a bit tricky and I think the lid issue may be alleviated by nice stiff corners.

What do you think?

Conversations with a Six Year Old

2011-07-21T16:20:00.000-04:00

In the car, on the way to camp:

Brynna: Can I hear the fire song?
Me: No.
Brynna: Why?
Me: Because I've switched the CD 20 times in 10 minutes. The stereo is tired and so am I. Also, there's a freakin' heat wave and the CD's are hot when they come out of the stereo and it's making me hotter. So no. No fire song. Maybe on the way home.
Brynna: I don't like this song.
Me: I don't like the puppy dog song, but I suffer through. It's your turn to suffer.
Brynna: But grown-ups are used to suffering and kids aren't.
Me: The consider it a life lesson. Everyone suffers. Doing it well and gracefully is a useful skill.
Brynna: I only suffer when it's hot.
Me: Well, with the summer we've had you should be used to it, then.
Brynna: I'm not going to talk about suffering anymore. I want the fire song.
_______________________________

At home while I'm making supper:
Me: Brynna, can you feed and water the cats?
Brynna: No.
Me: Let me rephrase: feed and water the cats.
Brynna: I'm busy.
Me: Doing what?
Brynna: Answering your questions, mostly.
Me: Oh, well, I'm busy too.
Brynna: Doing what?
Me: Taking the cats to the freakin' pound.
Brynna: I'm coming.
______________________________

After coming home in an un-air-conditioned car in 1300 degree weather.
Brynna: Mommy, why are you sad?
Me: I'm not sad.
Brynna: You look sad. You look horrible.
Me: I'm hot. And tired. And hot. Also, you shouldn't tell people they look horrible. It almost always hurts their feelings.
Brynna: So, I should lie.
Me: No, you just shouldn't mention it. If you can't say something nice, just don't say anything.
Brynna: Mommy, you look.
Me: Not exactly what I had in mind.

Things I've Learned Today

2011-07-20T15:59:00.000-04:00

Headaches don't go away by force of will
Oatmeal is not a satisfying lunch
Homemade granola is totally worth it - especially if you added chocolate chips
I should add more chocolate chips next time
Pinterest is super cool
Pinterest also needs bigger servers (I suppose they didn't see me coming)
It would probably be a very bad idea to paint my kitchen red
It doesn't matter, because I am totally turned off by the idea of a blue kitchen
Yellow does not, in fact, go with everything
I truly do hate stuffing envelopes more than anything else in the world
It's possible that the gray walls at work are contributing to my depression
This should be monitored by OSHA
I don't actually know what OSHA stands for
Some days a completely random list just has to be good enough

It's What Time?

2011-07-19T16:37:00.000-04:00

Well, friends and neighbors, now that it's approximately 119 degrees in the shade and no one in my house is waking naturally at 5:45 a.m. and we are finally settled into our new routine and staying up at night and sleeping until 9:00, lovely decadent, luxurious 9 (on the weekends, mind you). It must be almost time for school to start.

On the bright side, Brynna got into her school again (we have to reapply every year) and they notified us this year before the week before school starts and that's nice. She's gotten a post card from her teacher and she is geared up and ready to head back into the fray - books and P.E. and backpacks and this year we have to label all the school supplies which I assume means she gets to keep her own stuff. She couldn't be happier.

I, on the other hand, am already whining about it. For one, I am looking at this list of school supplies with sadness. Since school supplies are my second favorite thing (my first favorite is lemon cheesecake), I think it's rather unfair that my day is being ruined by the school dictating the brand of supplies needed. (Although I will agree that Fiskars are superior scissors and Crayola are superior crayons.)

Secondly, 5:45 a.m. I am headachey and tired just thinking about it.

Thirdly, that means that I should start, like last week, with getting my kids back on the school sleeping schedule. Fighting them at bedtime, missing my meetings, eating as soon as we get home, and waking before human beings should be conscious: here we come!

Also, have I mentioned 5:45?

I was just saying how I don't understand how year-round school is such a bad thing. No camp and trying to figure out what your kids are going to do all day, all summer while you work. No getting out of routine. No running back to school the moment the New Year's confetti has cleared. And now, I'm sitting here whining about how can summer possibly be over? I need at least another month's worth of sleep.

It makes me wonder, though. Where did the time go. When I was in school (back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth and hills worked differently so you had to walk uphill both ways) we didn't start until the end of August, we got longer at Christmas and we got out in May. We also had at least one day off every month. So, what happened? Do we have more instructional days? Or is fall break entirely to blame?

I don't know. What I do know is that in three short weeks, the countdown to fall break begins. (Also, what do you think they do with all those gallon sized ziploc bags?) Ugh. 5:45.

Making It! - My White Notebooks

2011-07-18T16:37:00.000-04:00

As you may have gathered, I spend a great deal of time online. While here, I gather things: mostly ideas. But also recipes, crochet patterns, craft instructions, etc. Because I split my time between my home computer and my work computer, I print a lot of stuff, too.

Of course, I hate to waste paper, so when I lose these things (I have probably printed my recipe for taco seasoning about 40 times) I get pretty upset. Rather than just allowing these pile up (which I did for years and years) losing most of them and never being able to find anything, I have created some notebooks.

I know this isn't rocket science, but honestly, it took me a long time to get it together and if I can spare anyone else my pain, I would love to share.

So, with no further ado:

Organizing Your Papers in Five Easy Steps

1. Figure out what you need and gather materials - I have a church notebook (as I am the secretary), a Montessori notebook (for my Board materials), a speech pathology notebook (for Brynna's speech evaluations, etc.), a crochet notebook and a recipe notebook. Today, I am adding a craft notebook. Previously, I've just stuck my craft ideas in the back of my crochet book, but that back pocket is getting bulgy. Plan what notebooks you need and then decide how fat they need to be. Then begin gathering materials. Each notebook will need: 1 notebook (duh), a handful of plastic page protectors and tab dividers. I use pre-printed 1-25 dividers. More on this later.

2. Label your notebooks - My notebooks all live together in a bookkeeper's basket on a bookshelf. Because all you can see is the spine, it's super-important that the spine is labeled. I also like to add a cover, but this is non-essential. There are a lot of ways to label your notebooks. Because mine are grouped together in one spot, I want my spines to look uniform. I print a spine and insert it into a clear overlay style binder. If you were feeling fancier than I, you could use scrapbooking letters or make little hanging labels. I considered the latter, because I think it would look cute, but I haul my binders to board meetings, evaluations, business meetings and just around in my crochet bag, so practical is at a premium for me. I have a little more fun with the covers, because you don't see them as much, I can make them look any way I want. Again, I just design something in Word and print it out for the cover area. You'd be amazed what cool images you can find in clipart.

3. Assemble - The insertion of the cover pieces is fairly obvious. I usually place my page protectors in the very back, because I don't use them much. For the most part, I hole punch everything, but occasionally, I'll have something printed too close to the edge, or on a partial sheet that could use the help. I like to have pages handy for this.

4. Build an Organizational Structure - Keep in mind that above all else, the notebook needs to work. It needs to organize your stray papers into a system that makes sense to you and make it so you can find things. This means that you have to think about how you work. For instance, with crochet patterns (or any kind of pattern), do you typically decide on a project based on who it's for? If so, then your sections should be something like: Baby Girls, Baby Boys, Girls, Boys, Women, and Men. or Do you choose a project based on what it is? If so, then your sections should be Hats, Scarves, Sweaters, Afghans, Dishcloths and Doilies. Honestly, the best advice I can give you about organization is this: forget about what other people do or what would be easiest for someone else. If your organization doesn't make sense to anyone else, but you can find what you need, then it works. As I mentioned before, I use pre-printed tab dividers (1-25). Then I make a Table of Contents with blanks for each section. This way, it's easy to add or change sections. This might not work for you. Whatever's clever.

5. Fill 'er Up - Start adding projects as you print them. One thing that I do is gather all my projects together in one document all week. Then, on Friday, I print out everything, hole punch it and add them to the appropriate notebooks. Then, when I'm working on a project in one of my books, I move a page protector there and I can add a scrap of the yarn, the wrapper with dye lot and the hook I'm using to the page protector. This keeps everything close. I make notes as I'm going along on the hole punched pages.

I know that this isn't the most exciting Making It! project, but good project organization is a pretty important piece of the crafting puzzle. It took me way too long to find this method of organization that truly works for me. I hope that it - or something similar works for you too.

How do you keep your projects organized? Notebooks, project bags or boxes? What else?

Five Things on Friday - Saga Edition

2011-07-15T16:19:00.001-04:00

Tonight is the night, oh interwebz of joy. Tonight, despite the fact that I am having a very rough day, have no idea how I'm going to pay my bills or drive to work this month, I am going to see Harry Potter. Because, priorities... I gots 'em.

Now, before you lecture me, you should know that I am RABID about Harry Potter. Like seriously, crazily, rabid. And this is a very sad day for all of us. I mean, it's a great day - because, you know, new Harry Potter movie, but also a sad day because it's the last new Harry Potter movie.

I know people who don't get it. People who say things like, "Isn't this like the fourth or fifth movie," or like, "Well, it's about time, there's half a million of those movies." And it makes me sad. Sad, not just about people who don't understand the joy and amazement of Harry Potter - of a complete cultural phenomenon that changed children's literature and the way children view literature forever. But also for the saga.

So, for those with attention spans longer than ants, I present:

Five Sagas That I Love

All grown up...

1. Harry Potter (J.K. Rowling, books and movies) - Okay, obvs. And I could say all the things I usually say about Harry Potter: a grand story of good vs. evil, the complexity of human nature, the bond of true friendship, not to mention the whole inspired an entire generation to pick up books bigger than their heads and devour them in a way previously reserved for teenage-heart-throb-movies. But, since I've said all that before, let me instead address why I, a fully grown adult type person, thinks J.K. Rowling hung the moon. I am all about the characters: you can write the most boring plot imaginable, but if you have good, strong characters, I'm all in. And HP has great characters. I remember being Hermione - almost exactly. Now, I'm more of a Molly Weasley. (And with that in mind, can anyone guess what I am most looking forward to tonight?) These characters are wholly formed, three dimensional people. You forget that they are not real. And that right there is what separates bad fantasy from good fantasy. In good fantasy, the magic and mystery and dragons and whatnot are a vehicle for the characters. Not the other way around.

Magically delicious.

2. Dresden Files (Jim Butcher, books, comics and a very short lived TV series) - As the only practicing wizard in the Chicago phone book, Harry Dresden sees his share of weird stuff. From werewolves (the good, the bad and the positively sociopathic) to fairy godmothers; from supernatural drugs to enchanted dinosaurs; from mafia bosses to magic beer. Life is never boring for Harry. What keeps Harry's stories interesting book after book has a great deal to do with Harry, but even more to do with everyone else. Harry begins the series as a fairly young wizard (they live into the multiple hundreds, you know) and his growth as a wizard and as a person is fun to watch. Every book brings progress or regression and you love to see him improve and suffer when he slips. You watch with trepidation as he makes bad choices and cheer (usually in your head) when he makes better ones next time. That's the essence of what makes a saga tick - true investment in the lead character. But that's not all Dresden has to offer. There's also Karin (cute as a pixie cop and reluctant love interest), Michael (Knight of the Cross and reluctant father of a budding wizard), Thomas (Harry's half brother and influential vampire of the White Court), and Susan (half vampire and star-crossed lover). And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Everyone grows, everyone changes. There is not a single stagnant character in the series (with the possible exception of the deliciously bad mafia boss, Johnny Marcone) and that makes it never boring for the reader.

Not everyone can get away with
walking barefoot through a cemetery.

3. Harper Connelly (Charlaine Harris, books) - So far, there are only four books, but I know this one is going to last forever. How? Because Harris' other series include Sookie Stackhouse (10 and counting), Aurora Teagarden (8 books), and Lily Bard (5 books). Charlaine is a champion of the saga. Now, you're probably more familiar with Sookie and that's fine and good, but I will argue to anyone and everyone that Harper is a better character, a better premise and better written books. So there. Harper can commune with the dead, but not how you think. Since being struck with lightning as a young girl, Harper has gained the ability to locate bodies based on a buzzing type feeling. But more than that, she can, for a moment, connect with the dead and experience their last moments the same way that they did. This seldom solves murders by telling her whodunit, but does serve as an aid to investigations. As she travels the country, finding bodies and helping murder and missing person investigations, she is also struggling for her missing sister. It's like a TV series, there's always a mystery of the book, but the larger mystery is far more compelling.

How I wanted her hair!

4. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery, books, movies, TV series, probably other stuff) - The first chapter books I read were the entire Little House on the Prairie series. Which set me up for a lifetime of little girls from history who were troublemakers. Fortunately, this is practically a genre. But my favorite is Anne. Anne is an orphan who goes to live with an elderly sister/brother duo as farm help. Of course, she is so much more than that, with her lively imagination and sweet innocence. As the series progresses, Anne and her best friend, Diana, along with her forever love, Gilbert, grow up. Anne marries, has children and forges a life for herself completely different from her early childhood. Anne is Polyanna, but less annoying, Laura Ingalls, but more precocious, Pippi Longstocking, but with redder hair. I spent a good deal of my childhood playing Anne of Green Gables with my red-headed best friend. We even nearly drowned pretending to nearly drown playing the Lady of Chalotte. I never managed to get drunk on raspberry cordial though.

Just like our world. Only better.

5. Discworld (Terry Pratchett, books, comics, movies) - Discworld is a flat world that moves through the universe balanced on the backs of four elephants supported by a giant turtle. It is a place not wholly unlike our own, but vastly funnier and more interesting. There are so many Discworld novels and they cover everything from politics to religion to journalism to music to Death. Yes, with a capital D. They are smart and funny and satirical, but they are also genuinely fine reads with compelling recurring characters. There are "mini series" within the larger series - the Night Watch books, the Witch Books, the Death Books (my personal favorites) but they all add up to a larger world so completely imagined it's contagious.

So, what about you? Do you love a good saga? A never-ending series? Does a whole shelf of Castle Rock or Aunt Dimity make your knees weak? What are your favorites?

I'm Sorry... What Day is It?

2011-07-14T16:32:00.000-04:00

Oh my. It's time for another whining post. Get ready because this one is a doozie (doosey, doosie, doozy, seriously - I know it's a freakin' word).

So, you remember my car? The evil one that loves to not run? Yeah, it's running. After $2,000 for a new tranny (and not even the fun kind with too much makeup and Cher impersonations) and $120 for new brakes, it is currently putting rubber to road. We can't get too excited, because I'm sure it'll break any day now. But since it's running, my husband's car (the mini mobile) has decided it's not budging out of my front yard.

This has meant ride sharing. With my husband. The love of my life. Or something. Here's the thing - we don't do this well. There are some things that we kick butt at doing together. We can taco night like nobody's business. We are super-duper arguers. We have this one (just one) swing dance move that we can do in our sleep. We can watch Firefly all day without getting out of bed. But we cannot share a car.

For one thing, we're not morning people and we have to get up and be civil and get the kids ready together and get our stuff ready together and when we are done we can't scream and slam the door and stalk out to the car - because the other person will be there. Which sucks.

Also, I now have three - count them three - people trying to control my radio while I drive - AND ONE OF THEM CAN REACH IT! I know. Has there ever been a bigger travesty?!? Someone should report this to the Geneva Convention. I'm sure they are very worried about my "driver picks the tunes, unless I am the passenger" rule.

Furthermore, Bob works a funky schedule, so he has to go to work hours early and I have to hang around town hours late to get him. This is me sighing a big, ole, crazy sigh while I roll my eyes.

Also, my kid is a terrorist. Earlier this week, she was suspended from day camp for terroristic threatening - because she said she was going to kill anyone who liked pickles. And, okay, I had the talk with her and explained that we don't threaten to kill people and we really just don't joke about killing people and look, I swear this is a big deal. And I managed to do it without laughing. Because as much as I want my kid to be a hippy-dippy-tie-dyed-flower-child, I just cannot take a pickle-related death threat seriously. I just can't.

And I started The Hunger Games. God help me, I gave in and am reading a best seller and I cannot put it down.

So, I know that it's Thursday and this is the first time I've even cracked my blog open this week. I've also discovered online logic puzzles which is highly addictive and crazy.

Forgive me. I promise a Five Things tomorrow and then next week, back to blogging as usual. In the meantime, think of me, my terrorist child and my husband-for-now-but-we'll-see-how-long-this-lasts when you are having a peaceful morning routine. Think of us fondly.

No Longer a Morning Person

2011-07-07T16:19:00.000-04:00

Maren is going through this phase. At least, I hope it's a phase. She cries at everything. Not a real cry, mind you, a screamy-pay-attention-to-me cry. It's maddening. In every sense of the word. Plus, it's worse in the morning.

I counted today and she cried over 14 different things between the bed and the babysitter's door, including, but not limited to: me not rolling down her car window, her arm getting wet and not having Kai Lan on her panties.

Just a few short weeks ago, I could count on Maren to pop out of bed like a jack-in-the-box and run happily through the house demanding that everyone share her joy at being alive. Spoiler alert - no one else is overjoyed at being alive in my house until at least 9. I don't typically get there until about 11.

Brynna started out as a morning person and then outgrew it, too. Honestly, I think it's better this way. Being a morning person in my house is setting yourself up for a lifetime of disappointment.

Last night, at church, we were talking about a conference we want to attend. After some discussion, it came about that we would have to leave the church at 6 a.m. "Let's leave earlier and head to Denny's," the pastor enthused. "Let's not and cruise McDonald's," was my answer. And even then, I'll be grumpy. And we won't even address the Bob issue, as he is not even civil before lunch most days.

They are doomed. Doomed.

You know, though, I don't mind it. From my perspective, the whining and crying is less annoying that the chipper, happy skippiness. And I'm holding out hope that she'll outgrow the wailing part of it and turn into a regular old grump. Like Brynna. Who informed me this morning in no uncertain terms that it didn't matter how many times I laid out that outfit -she was NOT going to wear it because it did NOT match -at all. Harumph.

It was about at this time that Maren burst into tears because the cat was in her room.

Please tell me this is just a phase...

Making It! - Hair Clippie Holder Edition

2011-07-06T13:12:00.000-04:00

I've been busy lately. Busy creating and planning other things to create. I haven't shared many of them because they weren't crochet and "What's in my Crochet Bag" should at least occasionally be crochet. I've been pretty excited about some of them, though and so I've decided to introduce a new feature - "Making It!" Each Monday (or today, whatever, don't judge me) I'll tell you about a new project that I've made. It might be cooking or crafting or sewing or crocheting or writing. It'll be whatever I've been working on and want to share that I, myself, have made.

Today, as our inaugural Making It! post, I'm sharing my fabulous hair clip holders!

A couple of months ago, I was browsing at Between Friends, a local consignment/fun stuff shop, and I found these cute hairbow holders that looked like ballerinas. I loved them, but they didn't really fit my girls' rooms. We're very themey around these parts and we weren't about to just plunk a ballerina in a fairy room. Lots of putting it off and material gathering later and I finally got it all together.

Here are my basic steps (of which there are no photos, sorry.)

Trust me, it's a fairy. The wings are just blending
into the bush. It's lovely in the Nature Fairy room, though.

1. Find carboard - I just used an old box top, but if you wanted people to be able to look at the back, might I suggest foam core. In any case, you need something with stiffness, so at the very least corrugated.

2. Doodle - A Sharpie and 20 minutes later, I had the basic outline. What I wanted was something more realistic looking, but the thing is that without a head, realistic looking is blobby. I had to make it exaggerated just to have it look like anything. After finally getting a form I was happy with, I cut it out. I used scissors on the first one, but it was a nightmare and used an exacto on the second one and it went much better, so I'd recommend that.

2. Cover with fabric - I purchased fat quarters, because they are fun. I cut them in half, knowing that I wouldn't need the whole thing. Then, a little glue gun, a little stretching and trimming to make the curves smoother and I had a "bodice."

3. Make a skirt - Since the ballerina ones I had seen all used tulle for the skirt, I decided that was the easiest option for the fairy. I had a small spool of tulle that I use for gift wrapping. I cut uniform length (ish) pieces and tied 3 together in the middle. Then, folding in half, I glued the knot to the area I wanted the top of the skirt. This made the skirt fall nicely from about five points in the center and meant that I didn't have to worry about making the top look straight. The cowgirl's skirt was cut from a dress Maren had outgrown. The ribbon trim and belt loops were there to begin with, although I can't imagine it without them.

4. Add ribbons - The "lacing" ribbons across the middle were fairly easy, but for the skirt ribbons, I would recommend grosgrain ribbon only. I used satin on the cowgirl and the clippies keep slipping off. It's kind of a nightmare. Basically, I just hot glued them to the back.

5. Add decoration - The fairy obviously needed wings. I purchased these at a craft store for a buck, but you could easily make some with a coat hanger and colored hose if you were more patient than I. I've tried it and it just doesn't work for me. The fairy wings were actually a butterfly and Brynna wanted to put her body on the front of the skirt, so I added it to the skirt. It seems morbid to me, but Brynna thinks it's pretty. I'm still looking for a nice big horse button or pin or something to add to the cowgirl. She needs something.

6. Add clippies - There are many, many more than in the photos, but unless you're really clippy happy, you can't run out of room, there's a never ending supply of places to stick things.

Cowgirl clippy holder.

Good Things about this Project - Easy and Quick - I did both in one afternoon and they turned out so nice. Kid Friendly - I kept mine away from the glue gun, but they directed what they wanted where and which ribbon, etc. Personalizable - So easy to make it fit a room or a personality or both. Really does a good job - The girls love having them on their wall and they are wonderful corals for what's normally in giant piles at our house.

Bad Things about this Project - Hanging is a Pain - I went through three or four different hanging methods before I came up with something that would work for us. Ponytail holders - We still don't have a good spot for ponytail holders. The best I could come up with was using a butterfly clip to hold them on, but that's not going to work for long. Addictive - I'm kinda disappointed I only have the two girls. This was a ton of fun!

My Pet Peeve

2011-06-30T16:02:00.000-04:00

I am a consummate devil's advocate. Any time someone makes what I deem to be a judgemental statement, my default reaction is to justify/defend whoever is being judged. I hate Judgey McJudgerson's and I judge them out of spite.*

Remember when you were little and people used to say, "It's a free country?" People would use that excuse to cover over whatever abhorrently childish behavior they had just completed. I hated that phrase when I was a kid because it was basically used to convey the attitude that there are no rules for proper etiquette and treatment of other humans.

Now, I wish some of those little brats would remember those sage words. Or others like, "Live and let live," or "Judge not, lest ye be judged," by Jessi.**

The current crop of judgers inspiring my ire are grocery store clerks. I'm not sure when we passed the mark between pleasantries and commentary on my purchases, but I'm over it.

This has been a bad week. For a myriad of reasons that I am not going to get into. So, last night when I was trying to pack two lunches for Brynna and discovered I only had enough supplies for one, I was sort of just grateful for that. I'm not sure how we managed to run out of everything but turkey Bologna but we sure did. So, today over my lunch, I took my little ten dollar bill and ran to the store. I picked up a Lunchable for her to take tomorrow.

This one had sandwich stuff, applesauce, cookies and a tiny water bottle with an optional Kool-Ade packet.
I know this isn't exactly health food. For one thing, to make this stuff shelf stable, they add a ton of sodium. I also know, however, that in a five minute trip to the store, I could have done a lot worse. I also-also know that this is a rare occurrence. We very, very seldom get lunchables and as far as treats go, this is right up there with a Snickers bar and a Big Red.

Since I didn't have lunch for myself either, I picked up a second one (along with a Coke, because, yo - caffeine) and headed for the check-out. As I was waiting my turn in the express lane, I was reading the contents and marvelling at how they though of everything, including a nifty little red spoon for the applesauce.

"Reading what's in there?" the checker inquired while reaching for my contents.

"Yeah," I retorted - witty as always.

"Do you really want to know? Cause it's nothing good. Especially for kids. People think these are so great for kids," was her lighthearted and skippy reply.

Now, you may think that we have a crap-food crisis in our midst. You may even look at my overweight frame and assume that I am raising my children on nothing but Nilla wafers and sodey-pop. You may think that someone should intervene. But here's the deal: 1. You, oh-wise-grocery-store-checker are not that someone; 2. You have no proof that this is anything but an occasional treat - in fact, by my befuddled contents reading and the fact that I was only purchasing two, I think it's more likely an occasional treat and 3. Mind your own freakin' business.

I don't know why this has bothered me as much as it has. I'll be over it the moment that Brynna sees what I've done and proclaims me mommy of the year. I think it's just the audacity of it. Why does everyone assume that I want their opinion anyway? And why should your judgement mean more to me than my own? Am I really supposed to be that hung up on what other people think? Especially people I don't know?

Just a bee in my bonnet this fun and frilly Thursday afternoon. Enjoy the buzzing.

*If you are thinking that this makes me no better, well, you may be right. But whatever. I'm still doing it and you can't stop me.

** Meaning that I will judge you, not that the quote is by me. The quote is obvs by Jesus, who I suppose will judge me for judging the judgers. But then He'll probably laugh about it and accept that I was trying to do the right thing.

The Vocabulary Monster

2011-06-29T16:31:00.000-04:00

I am rather proud of my vocabulary. I try not to show it off because there always seems to be someone there to mock me. However, I love words and use a lot of 'em.

I heard somewhere that the average vocabulary now is a third of the size it was 100 years ago. I'm not even sure if that's true, but I thought about it a great deal. First, I thought about how lazy we've all gotten with our vocabulary lately. I'm not talking about slang (which some find lazy, but I find fascinating) but rather words like "very," "bad," "good," and "okay." There's nothing wrong with any of those words, but we have come to use them so copiously and without regard to meaning variegation.

Then, I thought about medical terminology and technical terminology. In the past century, we have made up thousands of words, everything from text (as a verb) to skype; from radar to sonar and from chemotherapy to ultrasound. Most people are conversant with those terms and myriad others. When you factor in the vocabulary that has been gained during this period, it only compounds what we must have lost.

Frankly, I'm not worried about my vocabulary. I think mine is peachy keen and fancy enough for everyday. I was talking to someone the other day and they were looking for a word: "Ebullient," I supplied. In return I received a blank stare. But I am worried for the vocabularies of my kids.

I don't talk babytalk to my kids, but we do have household names for certain things: Kool-Ade is "drinky," my favorite blanket is "bankie," Spiderman is "PideyMan," shampoo is "shampoozle," and sour cream is "schleam." It's our household culture. Our own language. A few days ago, with cold sweat running down my back, I casually asked Brynna, "What's the real word for schleam?" After the most infuriatingly adolescent look you can imagine, Brynna replied, "Sour cream. I would never call it schleam at school." Which is, of course, what I wanted to know. That kid is insightful.

Maren is still learning that drinky is pretty narrowly defined and does not cover other drinkable liquids. Or that most of the world doesn't giggle maniacally whenever you say shampoozle. It's okay, she'll get there. But with our "special" vocabulary and the entire world around them forgetting words right and left. I can't help but feel like there may be a war going on behind the scenes.

And because I believe that in all things, we lead best by example, I am trying to use some more of my vocabulary in their presence. I hope it works.

On the other hand, perhaps it's just one more thing to panic about. Or even a made up statistic. I understand that 97 per cent of them are.

Making a List

2011-06-28T16:13:00.000-04:00

There are many shades of nueroses in this world. I have more than seven, myself. However, my favorite one right now is the list-making-crazy. I am the queen of the list. Not because I am oh-so-productive or organized. But just because it soothes my soul.

I have a whole notebook full of lists.

Grocery lists.
Cleaning lists
Redecorating project lists
Lists of clothing items the girls need each season
Packing lists
To do lists
Craft project lists

I can't explain to you the peace that I find in making a list. Not just because it makes my head feel organized, but also because it makes me feel like any job in the world is managable. It's simply a matter of getting it all in a list.

I hold onto my lists and add and check things off and rearrange them and prioritize them. I'm currently working on three or four lists that are sort of long term project lists and need to be tweaked before they are "finalized." Of course, the glory of a list, the beauty is that they are never truly finished. There's always something to add, take away, check off, move around or forget about completely. They are fluid. And yet still somehow solid and concrete.

You can hold onto a list, mark your progress. Monitor your results. But at the same time, a list never moves beyond the realm of a working document.

So what about you? Are you a list maker? Are you horrified by my waxing poetic about lists?

The Bug

2011-06-27T15:24:00.000-04:00

When we lived in our little house in town, we painted the great room and hallway bright, sunshiney yellow. I wanted a yellow that woke you up, that made you happy forcibly and that said, "Look at us, we are sooo cheery!" There were a lot of exclamation points in that yellow. (Figuratively. We didn't actually paint exclamation points on the wall, although...)

We lived with that color for a little more than three years. I loved it. Right up until I hated it. And it was sudden. One night, Bob and I were having a fight. I don't even remember what we were fighting about, but we were fighting. We finally reached a peace and were sitting quietly watching TV. Except. When Bob looked over at me, I had a monumental scowl plastered across my face. Wondering if maybe the fight was back on, he mustered his most innocent voice and asked what was wrong.

This is where our accounts vary. In his version, I growled, "I HATE this yellow." My version leaves me sounding only slightly more ladylike. In any case, my tolerant husband whisked me to a home improvement wonderland where we picked up about 7,000 paint chips, which we taped around our living room for a week while I made up my mind.

My mind settled on Gypsy Rose and Pine Needle. And how I adore those colors. In fact, I love them so much that when we moved, I painted the new living room in the same exact shades. (If you knew me, you would know what a big deal this truly is. I'm a little paint happy.)

When we bought this house, I took that opportunity to redo just about everything except the living room. The only rooms that were spared my roller and edge brush were the bathroom (which is my favorite color on the planet) and the kitchen which is... well... not. (See, I bought my house from my mom so I'm really insulting her tastes here, but I'm trying to forge ahead.)

The kitchen is blue. Blue and gray floors, blue and gray and tan countertops and blue walls. Lots of blue. To make a few changes on a budget, I added in a lot of chocolate brown when I moved in, so I have that going on, which has tempered the blue. Also, the base cabinets are white and the top cabinets are stained wood and kinda 70's looking. This was not anyone's design choice, so don't look at my mom that way.

Anyway, I've been bitten by that same bug that growled about the yellow walls. (Not that I'm admitting to growling.) I want to redo the "shared" spaces in my house in the "farmhouse" style. Leaving the girls' rooms as they are, I want to make the rest of house have a continuous theme and feel. And I want to start in the kitchen. This is going to (by financial necessity) be sort of a one-project-at-a-time kind of thing. And I'm going to be looking at cheap, cosmetic fixes, not a total rehaul to my kitchen. As much as I would like to buy vintage appliances and get concrete counter tops, it just ain't happnin'.

The problem is that I have so much I want to accomplish and I don't know where to start. I have to make changes in a way that the kitchen never looks too crazy, because I'm having my annual influx of company October/November/December and I won't be done by then, so I'd like it to look like people live there. People who aren't into industrial deconstructed or small bomb making in the kitchen.

What I really want to do right now is paint my top cabinets. All I need is a color scheme and I can get started.

Which is what all this rambling comes down to. I need your help, blogosphere. (Although I reserve the right to completely and totally ignore all your sage advice and do my own thing. /disclaimer) Keeping in mind that I am going to have to keep the blue floor and counter tops at the very least for the short term, I need two paint colors - one for my walls and one for my cabinets.

A few notes for your consideration:

I like my kitchens light and airy, not dark and pubby.
I'd really like to work in barn red somewhere, although I could use that for a pop color if needed.
I am allergic to most neutrals, but love all things brown. Not tan or cream or beige (blech) but good and truly brown.
My "art" in my kitchen is antique and faux antique Coca-Cola advertisements. My favorites are the ladies, but I also love the farm scenes. I've always thought the idea of bottle green would be nice for my Coke stuff, but have never figured out how to do this, since bottle green doesn't translate well to opaque.

So, there you have it world. Give me colors!

Five Things on Friday - Vampire Boyfriend Edition

2011-06-24T13:54:00.003-04:00

Have you seen, My Babysitter's a Vampire? The answer, unless your house is inundated with 6-11 year olds, is probably no. It's a Disney Chanel movie along the lines of the far superior Adventures in Babysitting, with the added twist that the very cool, pretty high school babysitter gettin' the kids into all kinds of shenanigans is a vampire. Also, the two kids who are clearly too old for babysitting have some undiscovered supernatural powers.

Anyway, the movie must have been pretty popular, because they are turning it into a weekly series. Can I tell you who is bouncing off the walls with excitement over this? Me? Well, okay. Who else?

Brynna cannot wait. And I, though I think this is going to be mediocre at best, am thrilled that Brynna and I can bond over supernatural storylines, vampire mythos and the special effects of dusting. I've been waiting for this moment since they laid her tiny little body in my arms for the first time.

In any case, amid announcements like, "I really like vampires, mommy," (could you just MELT or what) we've been discussing why vampires are sooo cool. Like cooler than zombies and werewolves and witches combined, according to Brynna.

I always thought it was a sex appeal thing, cause, you know... Vampires have got it going on. But, for a six year old to think they are so great has got me questioning my whole mentality on the subject. We've discussed that they are mysterious, they live forever, they are evil, but also kinda charming, etc, etc, etc. Of course, I can't discuss the whole beautiful thing with her, so that's where you, Oh Beloved Readers, come in.

My Five Favorite Vampire Boyfriends

This is just about the only picture
in creation where he's smiling.

1. Mitchell (Being Human) - I've mentioned Mitchell, right? I'm still in mourning for him. I can only hope that they manage to bring him back somehow. After he's done being in The Hobbit and all. What makes Mitchell such a wonderful vampire boyfriend is that he walks the fine line. He's a bad guy trying really hard to be good. He's not all bad and he's not mastered being good. He looses his temper and he eats someone. Or twenty someones in an underground train. You know how it goes. He's tortured by his past, but he is trying (and sometimes failing) to overcome it. He's held up by the love and support of his friends, but when he hides his murders from them, they become the enemy. That was, more than anything else, his tragic undoing. Excuse me while I weep profusely.

Looking ponderous.

2. Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) - Like Mitchell, Spike is trying to do and be better. What sets them apart is Spike's reasoning. At the beginning of his journey, he really sees no reason to be good as opposed to being evil. He does it because after being implanted with a chip making it painful to hurt humans, he misses the violence. What's a wounded vampire to do, then? Fight monsters, obviously. And, of course, he discovers that he's pretty good at it. Seems like all those years with a railroad spike were wasted. After a little time fighting the good fight, though, he falls in love. Every move he makes from that moment on, is made out of love for Buffy. Even the dumb ones. Spike doesn't feel guilty, he's not remorseful, but he's going to do what it takes to get the woman he loves. And that is hot.

I think you can forgive the hair.
Based on it being 1987.

3. David (The Lost Boys) - And, we're done with the good vampires. (Sort of.) David is the baddest of the bad. The leader of the pack of nearly feral vampires roaming the streets of Santa Carla. (Which we all know, is pretty great except for all the damn vampires. So sayeth Grandpa.) David is a user of people and surrounds himself with mindless followers. Why is he so darn hot, then? Well, because he's Kiefer Sutherland, back when that meant something. Even though this is pretty much just a Corey vehicle, Kiefer is the one you remember, the one who sends chills up your spine. It's that smile. The one that's sort of amused that you are alive. Like he's watching a hamburger walk by.

It all started with
Veronica Mars.

4. Josef (Moonlight) - I'll forgive you if you missed this short-lived vampire PI series. Mostly, because pretty much everyone did. I watched it religiously. All 17 episodes. (What? That's like 4 more than Firefly.) Even though the series was about the Vampire PI, Mick, for me it was all about resident friend-but-still-pretty-evil Josef. He has figured out how to live the good life, surrounding himself with luxuries and women. I'll forgive him.

Plus, he just looks
like a vampire.

5. Silas (The Graveyard Book) - Alright, I'll address the problems first. 1. We don't specifically know that Silas is a vampire. We know that he only comes out at night, that he exists somewhere between the living and the dead and that he eats, but not the same food as Bod. I have decided in my mind he's a vampire. Please don't correct me. 2. I have basically fallen in love with a father figure from a children's book. Don't judge me. What I love about Silas is that you don't know if he is good or evil. He is certainly good to Bod and as a reader, isn't that what matters? But, what if he goes out every night and slaughters an entire sorority house? He could be, we really don't know. He is good or evil or both. He's mysterious and he cares for a lost little boy who lives in a graveyard. That's pretty much enough for me.

Okay, so if we can all just agree that vampires are hot: who is your favorite?

Quick Answers to Sarcastic Questions

2011-06-22T10:50:00.000-04:00

Before we begin today, there are two things you should know about me. One is that I talk to myself... a lot. Like, a LOT, lot. Almost constantly when there's no one around and sometimes when there is someone around. I talk about a lot of things, but sometimes, I ask myself rhetorical questions. Which seems like an exercise in futility, but whatever, it's what I do.

The second thing is that I believe that each and every one of us has something that we are going to struggle with until we die. If you are a POF (person of faith) you might think of this as a sin that you have to work constantly to overcome. If you are not, then you probably think of it some other way. In any case, one in my bouquet of constant struggles is patience. I am not a patient person. I want what I want and I want it now. I am not inclined to wait for other people or for things to "fall into place." I do. Because that's life and you have to, but I am not inclined to is all I'm saying.

So, this morning, the kids were hellions. No one wanted to be more that four inches away from me at any given time. Brynna decided she wanted brownie bits for breakfast (?!?) and was going to beg until I gave in. Maren was mad because I didn't go the same way I usually go. Brynna was mad because it might rain on her pool day at camp. Maren was sad because the music was too loud. Brynna was upset because I wouldn't play "American Girls" by Counting Crows. And everyone was loud and whiney and harpy in the car. When I finally got to camp with Brynna and she started complaining about the ridiculous spray on sunscreen she begged me for yesterday, I thought my head would explode.

After getting out of the car, before Brynna opened her door, I muttered, "Remind me again why I had kids." I'm not used to anyone answering.

As soon as the words escaped my lips, Brynna's door slid open and she peeked out the gap. The wind was blowing and her hair flowed on the breeze. She tipped her face up into the wind and sighed a deep, contented sigh. Then she hopped out and we headed for the building.

After I had signed her in, kissed her head and wished her a good day with little to no rain, she took her backpack from me.

"Ugh. What did you put in this thing?!?" she asked to the giggles of other parents, staff and of course, me.

And that is why I had kids. Because for all the headachey mornings and miserable fights and whiney days, these shining moments of who my kids truly are, when it's all said and done: their beauty and grace and humor and intelligence; is more than enough. It's these moments that remind me not only of why I had kids, but of why I get up every day, why I got married, why I struggle with money and why I keep fighting the good fight. Because they, in all their moods, are worth it.

Do you remember that song, "Unanswered Prayers." If there is one thing better than unanswered prayers, it's immediately answered prayers.

Five Things on Friday - The People You Hate on Facebook

2011-06-17T16:35:00.000-04:00

With roughly 1/3 of the entire American population and over 3/4 of my particular age bracket on Facebook, I think we can all agree that it's pretty much more than a very clever time suck. And it's not as easy to use as people think. I mean, it's easy to use, but apparently not correctly.

So, for the education of the masses, I present:

The Five People You Hate (and Don't Want to Be) on Facebook

1. Billy Mays - The consumate salesman, the one who never turns it off - Almost everyone I know works. They truly do. They work in a lot of different careers. Which means that some of them are salespeople (real estate, cars, etc) and some of them own their own businesses. While Facebook is certainly a great place to pitch these services, it should be a facet of your online personality, not the whole thing. Look at your wall. If there are more than three things about your business visible, you need to slow down. If you are trying to type out "the hard sell," you need to quit. Sure, mention what you do, post your new blog posts, let us know about sales you're running, etc. etc, but make sure that we can still see YOU in the middle of all that business. If you are failing at this, at least make a separate page from your business. I will totally "Like" it and then "Hide" it so I don't have to listen to you and can still not hurt your feelings.

2. Debbie Downer - Always sick, sad, lonely or unlucky - Everyone has bad days and there is possibly no better place to whine about that than on Facebook. It's fun to share your misery and instantly have a whole bevvy of people including your college boyfriend and your high school nemisis comfort you. It makes everything better, but like many things, a little goes a long way. Remember, people only see what you share, so if you are telling us about every little thing that goes wrong and never having a positive post, I'm either going to assume you are suicidal or I'm going to defriend your miserable butt. Take notice.

3. Pollyanna - Always looking at some imaginary bright side - While slightly less annoying that Debbie up there, the Pollyanna never shows a crack in her happy-schmappy persona. Her joy over every little thing is only matched by her ability to find a silver lining to even natural disasters and rising death tolls. Here's the thing: I get that you want to be cheery, probably there are just too many Debbie Downer's in your life, but in the meantime you are wearing me out. Not everything is skippy. You don't look human. Also, you're making me feel guilty, so quit it. I've got enough to make me feel guilty about.

4. Rush Limbaugh - Politically minded, forceful and always on the attack - Here's the thing: You might think you know your friends, and maybe you do, but chances are, they don't all have the exact same opinions as you on every single issue. And while it's fine to post your opinions, don't expect everyone to agree. Remember, that if you post a political stance, you are opening yourself up for debate. Think of everything on Facebook as standing on stage at your high school reunion. Do you really want to engage all these people on abortion issues? Or health care? Or worse - start randomly insulting people for their beliefs? If the answer is yes, prepare to be unfriended, attacked back, hid and generally despised. Some people may agree with you, but even they will question your attack stance. Also, I'm probably not going to agree with you no matter what, it's just who I am.

5. Dan Brown - Vague, cryptic and otherwise mysterious - Whatever it is that you want to say without saying it, just say it. Or don't say, frankly I don't care. But all of those: "You know who you..." type posts are really cluttering up my life. If you need to say something privately, then say it privately, by private message or chat. But don't broadcast a message meant for a very few to everyone you know. For one thing, it's annoying, for another it makes you look petty and childish. I shouldn't have to crack the da Vinci code to read your posts. And I won't. If you make me try, I'll just post something ridiculous in reply.

Sooo... Who do you hate on Facebook. (Broad sweeping generalizations only, please.)

Fearless

2011-06-14T16:33:00.000-04:00

This was where the face painting occurred.
My kitty and my peacock.

What I didn't tell you about yesterday was the Italian Festival. It's not like we planned it anyway. The glorious Newport Aquarium mentioned yesterday resides at the lovely and intoxicating Newport on the Levee, which is basically, the only mall on Earth I don't hate. They have a very cool movie theatre, nice restaurants, a comedy club, and of course, a levee. It's right by the Purple People Bridge, too.

So, there's usually some stuff going on there. This past weekend, it was an Italian Festival. I must admit that after wandering it for a while, I saw very little that qualified as Italian. There were margaritas, but I thought those were Mexican - what with the tequila and all. Bellinis would have made more sense.

In any case, it was a festival, so we wandered down to the levee and took a look around.

There was a long line of what I call "fair games." Which are usually not all that fair. Like popping balloons with darts and grabbing the magic rubber ducky. As we were strolling down the line toward the rides, a.k.a. all my kids were capable of seeing, the barkers yelled out to us, attempting to entice the gullible children into plunking down some of mommy's money. The last lady in line was manning one of those booths where you shoot the water from the gun into the clown's mouth.

"Sorry. I'm not very good at water games, but have a nice day!" called Brynna as we walked past. I was kinda shocked. Partially because Brynna is usually pretty shy, but partially because I am terrified of talking to those people. Because I'm afraid that I'll hurt their feelings if I say no or that they'll rope me into doing something I don't want to.

Afterward, she and my mother in law headed into the fun house, where, apparently fun was had.

While we were waiting, Maren was getting itchy to do something, and I spotted the Tilt-a-Whirl. Now, the Tilt-a-Whirl is by far my favorite ride ever. I love the Tilt-a-Whirl and I would ride it all day every day if given the chance. Which I am not. Ever. I haven't actually seen a Tilt-a-Whirl since High School. And actually, this wasn't strictly-speaking a Tilt-a-Whirl. The cars were shaped like strawberries and they went in a level circle instead of going up and down the hills. Maren met the height requirement, so on we hopped on.

She was anxious to get going and I kept having to assure her that the ride would go as soon as everyone was seated. (It was hot in that giant berry.) When the ride finally started moving, she looked at me excitedly and then with great disappointment.

"Is this all?" she asked.

"Nope." I responded. I started turning the table in the middle. For the unitiated, there is a small table in the middle of the berry which everyone sits around. It's basically a wheel. You turn it and the berry spins. You turn it faster and the berry spins faster. I can turn it pretty darn fast.

At one point, Maren fell over and her head was against my elbow. The centrifugal motion was so great she couldn't pick her head up. All the while, however, she was giggling in what can only really be considered a cackle and screaming "Faster, Faster!!"

We've seen this before with her. Her Uncle D took her on a four-wheeler ride up and down the drive a few weekends ago and her screams of faster-faster were all you could hear.

When she was little, I thought Brynna was fearless. She climbed higher than she should and did things that scared me, a fully grown adult. But, as she's gotten older, I've realized that Brynna has plenty of fears, mostly social in nature. She likes to go fast, but not nearly as fast as Maren.

Maren is afraid of heights. And she seems to be very hesitant of water. She's also leary of tight spaces. She is not afraid of speed, though. She is always screaming for things to go faster.

I know that should scare me. Having a little daredevil is a terrible thing on a mother's heart. But it actually delights me. I truly get a kick out of watching my kids stare down something that terrifies me (or anyone) and stick out their tongues. I love to see her shock the adults who think that she should be scared. I love to see Brynna chat conversationally with strangers (as long as there is a trusted adult there) even though I know that new things make her feel shy sometimes. I love to watch Brynna climb to the top of the highest play structure and for Maren to hang upside down on the monkey bars. Even though my chest gets tight just watching.

I am scared of so many things. I am scared of being alone. Of losing my girls. Of getting overwhelmed. Of going beyond broke into the magical land of poverty. Of forgetting how to write or losing my eyesight or any number of things. I have a feeling akin to terror whenever I log onto my bank account to check my balance. I guess I just love to see their freedom from the fears that I have. I hope they never lose that. I hope they are always, in their own ways, fearless.

A Primer to Killing Time in Kentucky

2011-06-13T16:29:00.000-04:00

So - who missed me?

I mentioned there were kittens, right?
No, well, there was also kitten playing and kitten cuddling
and kitten napping which is the second best napping.

I had planned on blogging all through my little vacay, but a few technical difficulties, the inability to remove myself from my pajamas and my kitchen (seriously, you should see my kitchen) kept me completely and totally Internet free for nine whole days. (Okay, I got on my email for fifteen minutes at my mother-in-law's house, but really, compared to my normal 6 hour a day habit, that's pretty amazing.)

So, what did I do with myself all week? Well, I'm glad you asked (especially since recapping the staycation extravaganza is about all my vacation returning brain can handle today). Below, please find a list of fun things to do around here (and hopefully some nice ideas of things to do around wherever you are). (Also, I'm sorry about all the parentheticals. I understand that I'm overusing them. It's just that whole vacation-addled brain thing. I hope you still love me.)

No family event is complete without
face painting.

Sunday - The Drive-In. We went to Bourbon Drive In in Paris, Kentucky. Despite Brynna searching in vain for the Eiffel Tower on the way there, we truly had a great time. X-Men First Class and Pirates of the Caribbean was playing, but here's the great thing about the Drive-In. Even if a movie isn't right up your kids' alley, the drive in is still cool. You know, appropriate movies are always good, you probably shouldn't take a six year old to The Hangover, but even though superhero movies aren't the first choice of either of my kids, the combination of watching a movie outside, climbing in and out of our car, running around a little and wearing their pajamas in public was enough to make it fun for them. My hope was that they would fall asleep and we could watch Pirates, but at 11:45, they were both going strong and requesting to go home, so home we went before Pirates started. Still, well worth the fun and we took a family of four to a new movie for less than $20, so you know, totally worth it. (If you are interested in going to the drive in and aren't sure if there's one near you, click here for a site that chronicles all the drive ins in the nation.)

Monday - Ran errands with my grandparents. Bonding time and driving all around the countryside. Unfortunately, only fun for me.

Tuesday - The library. Okay, so we go to the library all the time and it seems like this shouldn't be all that big of a deal, but it was. Let me tell you why. First of all, we very, very very seldom go all four of us. It's just a thing: Bob's working or whatever and I end up going with Brynna or both girls by myself. This means that I spend most of my time making sure no one's being kidnapped. Brynna's pretty good on her own in the library and can find books while I check out something as long as I tell her exactly where I'll be. Maren, on the other hand, wants to play on the computers more than she wants oxygen. So, I spend most of my time when she's there, peeling her out of a chair, where her frustrated little bottom is beating the mouse against the tabletop. Going with two adults meant that Bob got to find books while I calmly worked puzzles, helped find books and played peek-a-boo around the giant fake tree. (What? Doesn't your library have one?) Then, I got to calmly wander to my heart's content and find a selection of things I actually want to read rather than just choosing whatever horror or sci-fi is in the new release section. We also got a week's worth of DVD's, including The NeverEnding Story. Which we watched about 3/4 of before the kids began collapsing. We're trying it again tonight.

Checking out the black bear enclosure at Salato.

Wednesday - Salato Nature Center - When I was a kid, this was called the game farm and it housed live specimens (zoo-like) of native game species to Kentucky. Now, it's expanded to include non-game species, interactive exhibits, hiking trails and a living waterfall. Oh, and it's pretty freakin' cool. We saw a black bear, a bald eagle and learned the difference between buffalo and bison. It was the hottest day ever, so the kids were pretty cranky by the time we left, but a few ice cream cones later, we were good to go. Home and lay on the couch. But, still. Salato rocks. And if you aren't from this part of the country, you should check out your state's Department of Fish and Wildlife. I bet they have something fun to do too.

Thursday - Suffoletta Family Aquatic Center - More and more, I'm seeing these local water parks spring up and I think it's just fabulous. Tons more fun than a regular pool and more family friendly, this park has a zero entry pool, tons of fountains, a giant water slide and a lazy river. Maren had a great time and Brynna tore the place up. I had so much fun I lost track of time and gave myself and Maren a failure-to-reapply-sunscreen induced burn. Also, there is no tired like a post playing in the water tired and no sleep as sweet as a post playing in the water nap.

Friday - I seriously did not remove my pajamas all day. I did, however, make strawberry shortcake. Mmm...

Fish and drums? You can't beat that. Or you can.

Saturday - Newport Aquarium - We always try to make an annual trek to the zoo and one to the aquarium. For one thing, it's wicked fun and for another, vaguely educational. As usual, we had a blast. Maren was afraid of everything at first, until she saw divers feeding sharks and then I believe she found her calling in life. She watched those divers interact with the monsters of the deep with rabid fascination. (I also learned that when they carry big sticks it's to ward off the sea turtles who think it's big fun to pull off the oxygen tanks rather than sharks.) I really love aquariums and go every chance I get. And for my money, Newport is pretty darn spiffy. It's not the biggest or the fullest, but it has a good array of animals, plenty of interactive opportunity and lots of good educational information for anyone interested. That and the Jellyfish Gallery, which is just gorgeous.

So, there you have it, my week of staycation. Here is my biggest advice if you are planning a staycation: schedule carefully but be flexible. For my family, I try to plan an activity a day. It leaves a great deal of downtime, but let's face it: we're here to relax anyway. Friday we were planning on going to the Hubble Planetarium. But frankly, no one felt like it. Since we live close enough to do this any old weekend, that's not a big deal. A day of movies and couch laying, it is!

What do you like to do when we have downtime with the fam?

The Things You Remember

2011-06-02T17:12:00.001-04:00

I ran into someone I knew in high school not that long ago. I've actually run into this guy a few times in the last couple of years and it's always the same story from our high school days that pops into my head. We were in biology class and had left to go to lunch. When we came back to the room, there was a cinderblock on the teacher's desk and really only one possible culprit: Liam*. He was just one of those kids - the ones always playing a prank of some type. Plus, he and our biology teacher had the most antagonistic relationship I can imagine.

She accused him and he, of course, denied it, saying he had no idea how it got there. There was a moment of silence and finally Mrs. P asked, "Okay, I know you did it and I'm not going to do anything, but I just really need to know... How did you get it up here without me noticing?" Liam didn't miss a beat and answered, "I put it in my pants."

Of course, as an adult, this isn't even that funny. But, as a fifteen year old nervously watching what could have been a bloodbath (we were all a little afraid that Mrs. P was perpetually on the verge of a nervous breakdown), it was freakin' hilarious. And so every time I see him, I think, "I put it in my pants."

I'm not sure he would even remember if I actually said it out loud. Honestly, it wasn't one of his better pranks - he had some real doozies, and probably, if he remembers anything from that class, it's cutting the nose off of my fetal pig, but that's what always sticks in my head.

Which always makes me wonder why we remember the things we do. My overarching memory of one of my good friends from high school is him mocking me as an adult for liking Train. Not all the fun times we had, the prom we attended together, the top hat or the R.E.M. concert, but a one time conversation years later about Train. It's not like the conversation bothered me, I deserved to be made fun of. (I still do actually, I kinda love Train, despite the fact that they are unarguably terrible.)

Living in the same county in which I grew up means that this is a constant hazard. I run into people I knew in high school: teachers, students, parents of students. I chitchat because that's what you do and I'm pleasant. Sometimes, I can't believe they would even have the nerve to talk to me. Obviously, if their overriding memory of me was the same one I have of them, they would die of embarrassment or guilt and slink off. Sometimes, I just wonder if they remember what I remember. If I started the story, could they even finish it?

Memories are a tricky thing in general. They are never as clear or perfect as you remember them. I can still see Mrs. P's face turning red as the class burst out laughing, but I can't remember what happened to the cinderblock afterwards. Did she just leave it there? Make him take it back? And maybe even the things I remember aren't exactly right. That's okay, that's how it works, things fade and what was once reality becomes a story. A funny story, a horror story, an embarrassing story or even a story like the one about Liam that's not really even worth telling.

At the end of the day, that's all we have to remember - our stories. And I always wonder if I share those stories, or if I am the sole proprietor. Have the other players forgotten them and now I own them? Am I responsible for keeping them alive? And of course, the big question, What are their stories about me?

* Name changed to protect those who I couldn't possibly contact to ask permission.

Antsy

2011-06-01T16:31:00.000-04:00

I have a vacation a comin'.

I'm not going anywhere. It's more of stay-cation, I suppose, but Maren will be home from the babysitter's, Brynna will be out of school and not yet in camp and Bob and I will be devoid of our normal work responsibilities. For a whole week.

We're going to play around and do some local stuff. Spend some time at the library and other exciting venues. Brynna wants to go to the water park, but I have this problem of not owning a bathing suit and having mixed emotions of whether or not I even want to remedy that.

Mostly, we're just going to be a family and be together. And try not to kill each other. In about a week and a half, you'll probably be subjected to a post about how sick I am of my family, but for now...

I can't wait.

I can't concentrate on anything. All I want to do is be outta here, playing with the kids, sleeping late, wearing pajamas until noon, reading, crocheting, crafting and a million other things that I probably won't actually have time to do.

Right now, I am like a kid on the last day of school. Which would be fine except it's only Wednesday. I have two more days of sitting here, bouncing up and down, trying to maintain some semblance of sanity.

So, to amuse me with non-workiness things... Let me know what you like to do with your staycations. Bonus points for kid-friendly ideas. Go!

If You Don't Know Who It Is - It's Probably You

2011-05-31T16:44:00.000-04:00

There are some things that are universally annoying: popping your gum, being a Debbie Downer, being overly happy, etc. These things are annoying to everyone on the planet except those who do them. I cannot explain why this is, but it is so. There are some things that are only going to annoy a small part of the population. I, for one, can't stand it if you don't say goodbye before you hang up the phone.

You know what, jerk? You just hung up on me. In the interest of what? Pretending you're on TV? Saving a half a second? Seriously, getting off the phone without saying goodbye is hanging up on me and I will NOT tolerate it. Also, don't say the word literally unless you literally know what it means and are certain that what you say is literally true. I will NOT tolerate someone saying "It's literally a million degrees in here." Because it's not. I guarantee it. Because you have the ability to speak rather than being a puddle of melted humanity.

But that's not what we're talking about today. We are talking about something much more heinous and hidden. Something that your friends will never point out to you, but I guarantee you that they are annoyed by it. What is this awful thing you could be doing, you ask? Counting your blessings.

Don't get me wrong - everyone should do this to some extent. You should know that your life is better than it could be. You should rejoice in the little victories and celebrate the small joys in life. It's important. And you shouldn't dwell on the bad, as that is a recipe for disaster.

On the other hand, you shouldn't do it constantly. If you find yourself saying things like, "I feel so blessed to be born with all my limbs," more than once a decade, you may have a problem. If when people tell you their problems, you respond with something along the lines of, "But you are so blessed that all of your problems are so small," you definitely have issues.

Trust me, you are annoying everyone.

Oh, they won't tell you that it's annoying, because you are making them feel bad. But everyone gets to complain. Everyone. At least once in a while without hearing about how they shouldn't because they have it better than someone else. People should be entitled to feel pain, to whine, to bitch, even and be accepted as normal - not some ungrateful freak who should be jumping up and down that they don't have seven different forms of cancer like that guy in an email you got last week.

Seriously, seek help. For yourself if not for those around you. Eventually, you'll be murdered.

Five Things on Friday - Family Movie Night Edition

2011-05-27T14:15:00.001-04:00

Every once in while, we pop popcorn, make Kool-Ade, and all four of us climb into my bed and watch a movie. I call it Family Movie Night. Brynna calls it playing theatre. I don't get to wear my pajamas to the theatre or put the movie on pause to use the bathroom, so I think this is even better.

Except for one thing: the actual movies. Before I had kids, I loved kids' movies. All of them, even the cheesy ones. Now that I watch approximately 700 hours of children's programming a day, I could do without them. I mean, have you seen that Curious George movie? Seriously. I have a headache just thinking about it.

Therefore, I try to talk my kids into what I call Kid-Friendly-Adult-Movies. We've watched Pirates of the Caribbean about 17 times. I tried Ghostbusters but that wasn't as kid friendly as I remembered. Sometimes I wonder about the adults in my life.

I've been thinking a lot about this lately, though. Mostly, I've been thinking about the movies I loved when I was that age. We've got a stay-cation coming up and I'd like to do at least one game night and one movie night over our week of being trapped with one another. Here are

Five Movies I Think We Can All Agree On:

Plus: The HAIR!!!!

1. Labyrinth - For those who lived under a rock in the '80's, Labyrinth is the story of a young girl (Jennifer Connelly) who is left home alone to babysit. While "storytelling" she accidentally conjures a real Goblin King (David Bowie FTW) to come and kidnap her baby brother. The rest of the movie is the confusing and surreal tale of her struggle through a fantasy world to get to the Goblin Palace and steal back her brother before midnight (when the spell becomes final and her parents get home)! In truth, the story is so secondary to the joy that is Jim Henson and David Bowie collaborating. It is simultaneously, a great movie for kidlets who love fantasy and creatures and flatulence jokes, and an acid trip on film on par with The Wall. Actually, better than the wall because I am still having nightmares about the part where he shaves off his nipples.

And the best part is clearly Falcor.

2. The Never Ending Story - In The Never Ending Story, Bastion is a bookish kid who is constantly getting bullied. He hides in a bookstore where he is introduced to a "dangerous" book. When he borrows the book and takes it to the school attic to read, he is swept away to a fantasy land (sensing a theme yet?) where he must become a hero and save the mythical world from destruction. TNES is a movie made for kids, full of "lessons" and "morals" but also managing to not seem preachy because it's so bizarre. If you've seen Shark Boy and Lava Girl, imagine how great that movie would have been if it weren't so preachy. Also, if there were no George Lopez.

You should be warned,
Tim Curry is freakin' scary.

3. Legend - Despite the fact that Legend boasts a pretty all-star cast (Tom Cruise, Mia Sara and Tim Curry) it is probably the one you are least likely to have seen. Although I don't know how you missed it. It seems like it was on cable every Saturday of my childhood. I would like to explain the plot to you, but it would take almost as long as watching the movie. Basically, a very, very young Tom Cruise has to save his fiance from the Lord of Darkness and partners up with all sorts of magical creatures along the way. The whole movie is a delight to watch, as it is just beautifully done. There's some sort of something about virginity, which I ignored as a kid and I hope my kids can too, but otherwise, it's as fun for kids as adults. Basically, Legend is like crack for me. I've never turned down an opportunity to watch it and every time I see it I enjoy it as much as the first.

Mmmm....

4. The Princess Bride - I'm not even going to tell you what The Princess Bride is about because if you haven't seen it then you clearly hate all things good in the world. I do not feel that that is at all an exaggeration. In any case, I've been trying to get the girls to watch this for literally years, to no avail. If Brynna would just give it a chance, I know she'd love it. As Grandpa says, "Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles..." How true, Grandpa. May I add, Cary Elwes at his most drool-worthy?

5. Savannah Smiles - SS is the story of the very young daughter of a politician who runs away and is sort of accidentally kidnapped by some not-so-bright crooks. Savannah is so charming, however, that she makes their lives brighter. They are even sort of parenty. It's not the world's best movie, but I was truly captivated by it as a kid. There is something magical about watching the criminals come around. Okay, so you probably won't like it, but I do. And it's my movie night anyway.

So, what about you? What movies to you watch with the kids when you think that one more repeat of the Map Song is going to send you over the edge of a cliff?

Dream a Little Dream

2011-05-25T16:30:00.000-04:00

I dream. A lot. I typically remember my dreams, sometimes for years, but always long enough to tell someone if it was funny/weird/scary. I never dream in black and white. Only in color. I usually have either one dream that seems to last forever or a bunch of short, unrelated dreams that share some weird common thread. Like underwear.

In any case, a few weeks (or possibly months) ago, I stopped dreaming. I told Bob about this and he pooh-poohed my odd observation by telling me that I was probably dreaming and not remembering it. And perhaps I was. It's possible.

But I don't think so.

I've been stressed. Sitting up at night while trying desperately not to balance my checkbook in my head stressed and I think that was somehow keeping me from dreaming.

For the past three nights, I have dreamt. Long, rambly weird dreams (some about underwear). All of them in color. All of them in 3D. All of them bright and vivid and realish. (Except there's too much underwear).

I think I'm cured. I'm going to sleep without complex math and compound interest filling my head and I'm dreaming. I don't know what caused my cure (although I have a theory) but I do believe that my long (lack of) nightmare is over.

I'm ready for my inception, Mr. DiCaprio.

Just a Few Things

2011-05-24T15:40:00.000-04:00

As I was driving home yesterday, I got to thinking about Brynna's homework. She's done with it for the year, it seems. There's a week and a half left, but they are foregoing homework for the rest of the school year and Halle-freakin-lujah, I hate homework. I never hated homework when I was a kid, but I hate keeping on her and making her do it and the TEARS of spelling. I do remember crying over spelling, so maybe there's hope for her.

Anyway, she's signed every single thing she's turned in this second semester "Brynna T.I.P." For the uninitiated, T.I.P. apparently stands for The Ice Princess. I'm not sure where this came from or why she has decided to forever be remembered as The Ice Princess. In fact, months ago, I tried to talk her out of it. "Not everyone thinks that's a nice thing," I mentioned. "Ice, good. Princess, awesome. What's not to like?" was her typically teenagery reply. So, Brynna T.I.P. she has become.

She'll probably have forgotten about it next year or grown into some new phase and I am so terrified I'll forget this - her Ice Princess year. I was driving home thinking about all the things she has done that I thought were so precious (calling me MumMum, making up homework, insisting on "Dance Time" every night) and how very far away they all seem now.

I ought to write this down, I thought.

Like how when Maren gets mad, she puts her hand on her hip and says, "Here's the deal, mommy..." just like I do when I'm fed up with their shenanigans. How she gives me a little kiss every morning and I say, "No, I need a big smacky one," and she tries to give me the loudest possible kiss before I leave her for the day.

Like how Brynna hates to do chores but loves to help, so it's all in the wording. And how she wears pants under her skorts and says, "What? Now I'm warm," when I give her a look. How she's become suddenly obsessed with stories of when I was a little girl, reminding me of how thin my memory is because I can never think of ANYTHING.

Or how Maren's hair gets super-curly when it's wet or humid outside and she looks like Shirley Temple and I was surprised the other night washing her hair to realize just how long it's gotten. And how she wants so badly to help put away the groceries, but she tries to put everything in the freezer. Or how she's so grown up already that sometimes it just kills me to hear her talk.

Like how Brynna makes a big deal about story time every night even though she can read to herself perfectly well now. Or how she can't wait to get through Farmer Boy because there aren't enough girls. Or how she makes up songs that last for forty minutes.

It seems nearly impossible to hold all this in my head forever. And yet it seems impossible that I'll ever be able to forget. Brynna is already going on 14, in attitude if not in years and Maren is potty trained, knows her alphabet and physically capable of just about anything. Brynna is so tall and gangly already and so sure of herself and her place in the world. I am so proud every time I look at them, but also so filled to the brim with melancholy at how very quickly they are growing up. How much things change. How hard it is to listen beyond the screaming sibling fights and see them - my girls - in all their amazing glory.

Look at That - I'm Breathing

2011-05-23T12:48:00.000-04:00

It's been a long week. What's that you say? It's Monday. Damn. It's been a long week anyway. Starting last week. Actually, starting the week before that.

Two Thursdays ago, I got sick. Very sick. Worrisome sick. Well, not really, but spent all day Friday and most of Saturday in bed sick. Then, I muddled through a week. I kept waiting to get better, but instead, I would develop one more symptom for every one that went away. At first I thought cold or flu, then I thought allergies, now I'm back to cold. But I just can't shake it.

I spent another weekend mostly in bed and today I wish I was there.

On the bright side, I'm breathing better today than I have since that fateful Thursday. The bad news is that my clogged ear induced deafness has began ringing. I hate a ringing in my ears almost worse than anything. It's also in my work phone ear. Don't pretend that you don't always use the same ear to answer the office phone. You do. I've no patience for that today.

Actually, I feel better than I have in quite a while, but I'm afraid to say that because I may be jinxing myself. Or perhaps I'm just being hypnotized by the ringing...

Five Things on Friday - Style Icon Edition

2011-05-20T16:42:00.000-04:00

I was talking to someone the other day, who revealed that they want to dress like Alex from Wizards of Waverly Place. This person was not my daughter or any other six year old; they were, in fact, a fully grown adult woman. And truthfully, I concur. I would love to dress like Alex. She wears scarves better than anyone in the history of the world. And it got me thinking about the characters (both real and fictional) that capture my style imagination.

Five People I Whose Closets I Would Love To Raid

1. Alex Russo (Wizards of Waverly Place) - Okay, so primarily, there's the scarf thing. I mean, really... I always look like such a dope in a scarf. And believe me, I try anyway. She's always so totally casual about it and it works for her. She's also got a hippie vibe that manages to look modern enough to not be contrived. All my hippie clothes look like I'm on my way to a theme party. She layers everything and manages to look very put together and haphazard at the same time. Really, that's all I want out of my style life - to look both put together and just rolled out of bed.

2. Stevie Nicks (Fleetwood Mac and beyond) - Okay, so hear me out. There are some pretty wack-a-doodle Stevie Nicks outfits and she occasionally looks like she threw a piece of carpet over her shoulders and called it a shawl, but when she gets it right - she really gets it right. She pulls off these monochromatic outfits that you can't help but stare at and everything is layers upon layers of gorgeousness. You just can't deny that Stevie can do the layers. Also the texture. Everything has texture and she just piles it all on (which is how she gets the carpet thing going, but I'm going to forgive her that because of the lace and feathers and fringe and ruffles and everything else in which she manages to look amazing.

3. Inara Serra (Firefly and Serenity) - Okay, so in her profession as an ... um... "companion," her clothes are sometimes as not there as I would like in my wardrobe, but I love the way everything drapes and hangs. She manages to look simultaneously ready for the ball and like she's wearing her bathrobe. An amazing, beautiful bathrobe - but still. And the jewelry! Living in the world she does, her jewelry isn't particularly "fine," but it is big and statementy and never, ever overdone.

4. Donna Noble (Doctor Who) - Ah, Donna. How I miss your smart mouth. In any case, Donna has three things going for her - again with the layers. I am a sucker for layers. Also again with the jewelry. What Donna wears is big and clunky and amazingly uncontrived. The third thing I love is how Donna never, ever looks uncomfortable. Her jeans and leather jacket go with just about anything and her empire waist tops and belted dresses just look comfy enough for a nap.

5. Melinda Gordon (Ghost Whisperer) - Melinda occasionally looks idiotic. I don't know anyone who always sleeps in a low-cut, floor length flowing white nightgown. I love how Melinda mixes vintagey pieces with modern peices and shapes and comes out with something that manages to look old fashioned without looking out of fashion. And the scarves. I love the scarves.

In summary - I am schmuck for scarves, layers, statement jewelry, hippies and layers. Oh, and layers. Who are your style icons and why?