embrita blogging

Creating an Advent Calendar the Doesn't Suck

2011-12-02T14:57:00.000-08:00

inspired, of course, by a Pintrest find.

Supplies:

24x30 canvas (but you could use any kind of backing you wanted)

wrapping paper (to cover the canvas - I had just enough of this paper from Paper Source, so I used it.)

Hot glue (for adhering the pockets to the backing)

library card pockets

3x5 cards

scrapbook paper and embellishments (or paint, if you're so inclined)

any graphic your heart desires (I cannot for the life of me remember where I printed mine from...anyone?)

A fun font. (I used this one.)

A list of advent activities (I used this one from the original post, slightly altered to better fit our current family)

Also helpful, a friend who's a rockin' paper crafter with a bunch of old paper she's willing to trade for pockets, canvas, and cards.

Happy Adventing!

Another one where I'm over at NPN

2011-12-01T07:40:00.001-08:00

lots.

Here, where I talk about our ambitions to get outside *even* when it's raining. Irony part the first: both pictures were taken in Seattle, where we do not live. Irony part the second: today it's going to be 63 and sunny with a slight breeze. Rough weather, y'all. Rough.

And

Here, where I talk about myself.

Happy Thursday!

And a tease:

Advent starts today, and that is our advent calendar. I've had some requests for a tutorial, so when the light is better (hooray for the flash on my iphone!) I'll get some shots and share the how-to's.

Kitchen Art

2011-11-20T18:43:00.001-08:00

Remember when I won a custom illustration by Oohmoon? Well, I got it printed (mpix rocks) and then got it frame and hung it in our dining room.

I dig it.

Behold:

One day I will be able to afford museum glass...until then, reflect away!

Linen mat, wood frame

The whole shebang (I'm not thrilled with the 3 prints underneath. I feel like it needs a 4th...and the frames came from costco, so that requires a trip I don't make lightly...)

Isn't this frame awesome? I just had to share because I love it.

Thanks, Katie!!!

Thank you, Pintrest

2011-11-09T15:37:00.000-08:00

(here)

The Magic of Fairy Lights

2011-11-08T13:46:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again. The time when I start watching Nigella Lawson like she's going out of style (she not, thankfully) and wishing that I could be her when I grow up.

This year I decided to do something about it. Namely: twinkle lights.

If you'll notice in this video, aside from making crab cakes that I need to eat, she wanders around a house filled with twinkle lights.

So I added some to our kitchen:

Unlit, the looks a little sloppy, which...whatever. We rent, people.

Lit, even with the lights one, they add a bit of working light and warmth to the kitchen.

With the lights off, however...even our $2 IKEA bowls look sparkly and glamorous.

They may stay up year round.

Then I attacked the mantle:

It was really quite easy and it adds a nice glow to the living room. The only holiday decorations I have up are the Thankful tree (which is really just cards from Jones Design Company hung on a little bronze sculpture I've had for forever)

The other touch is a few illustrations by Katie Moon over at Oohmoon. (More kitcheny goodness from her later this month!) When it's no longer Christmas, I may replace those prints with ones from her bicycle series.

I picked up the frame at the 10,000 Villages Craft Fair this year. It may not live there forever, but it works now.

These may stay up year round, too.

And yes, I know I need to touch up the wall...the paint is in the garage. When we exhume it, I'll touch up those little spots. (we rent and I can't just change the color of the wall. otherwise I would have done that first.)

**also on the mantle: an heirloom weather station, an empty apothecary jar - it house peanut M&Ms, but they are being eaten and will not be replaced, my Dead Author Bobble Heads, a print from Hammerpress in a frame from the Lollywood shop. Art by Baz, under that is his silhouette, the Russian/Soviet President Matryoshka dolls, a rocking horse, and a clock that was made for us as a wedding gift from my uncle. Random and awesome. It makes me smile every time I look at it.**

Gratitude

2011-11-07T12:38:00.000-08:00

So a fellow blogger (Amanda at Let's Take the Metro) has a regular Gratitude post in which she lists things she's grateful for. She's certainly not the only one, but considering that a) it's the time of year and b) I get constant reminders that it's that time of blogging....I figured I would do a few throughout this month (and year, in theory) and just document the little things that I am grateful for.

So here we go.

This mess. Because it means that I have food and people to help me eat it.

The city of San Jose, who will take these cats and sterilize them, vaccinate, and deworm them before microchipping them and notching their ears (except Lucy, this grey one, who managed to escape ear-notch free. But the shaved patch on her belly told us the rest of the procedure happened.)

Abundance. (and not having to pay for Pomegranates. If I charged what the grocery store charges, I'd be a rich woman!)

Spray Paint.

Heart-shaped leaves.

Napping buddies.

Traditions to pass down.

Your turn.

Festive Ceramics

2011-10-28T14:43:00.000-07:00

Every year the local paint-your-plate place has a few nights where you can go in and carve your own pumpkin. They dry it, fire it, you come back and paint it, they glaze it and fire it again, and you bring it home to add festiveness to your porch. Or wherever. Last year I went on my own and created Bunnicula. (I went back and painted on my own, too.)

This year, we had "help" and did the haunted house..I had "help"painting, too. It's good, but not great. But I love it because he helped.

This year, I have the added help of pintrest...on which I saw this. A LOT. I decided to take that and apply it to some dunk mugs...

We had some mugs...and then we fed them after midnight...

I rather like seeing them up there, plotting my demise...

When I'm not thinking they look a bit like Wallace and Gromit extras...

(via)

Arrangement

2011-10-26T21:05:00.001-07:00

Crayons arranged by him. Apparently he was finished coloring.

One day, he will kill me for putting this on the internet

2011-10-24T14:42:00.000-07:00

but I can't help myself. He wanted to do it all by himself...so they're inside out and backwards. He was so proud.

We're back from our travels (LOVE Seattle, people. LOVE.) But we've been struck with a series of head colds...which has led to me feeling like there's not a whole lot worth talking about.

Seattle trip photos can be found on the flickr. Button at right.

See that? I can't even be bothered to link you directly. The power of mucus, am I right?

The Autonomous Child

2011-09-29T20:52:00.000-07:00

So I'm a big fan of letting Baz call his shots. I try to respect his opinions and desires as much I do my husbands, and as much as I expect them to respect mine. I also feel that if I go with his flow most of the time, then when I need him to go with mine, he'll be more willing. It's along the lines of the "fix game." (which totally works, by the way. Especially when you follow it with "Now sit here and watch an episode of Roary while I vacuum the rest of the house." He's had dedicated mommy time, I get ten minutes of not tripping over him while he tries to help push the vacuum. Win. Win.)

Last weekend (two weekend ago?) a friend of mine suggested giving Baz access to his snacks so that we can move past the "I want it/I hate it" stage. I saw genius in this and immediately knew where to set up his section of the kitchen.

Behold - our stash. The drawer was filled with random junk (you know what I mean) and the rest was haphazard and behind the most irritating kitchen cabinet doors ever.

Seriously - do you see where the magnets are? And the pulls are in the top/center of the door? I didn't take physics, but I know that ANNOYING. So I took them off.

And yes - that's all my coke. Hush.

After!

Everything found new homes with minimal rearranging (cleaning out the junk drawer made a huge difference) and now here is his stash.

Top shelf: glasses, bowls, muffin tin (have you witnessed the genius of muffin tin meals?), two snack options, to-go cups, to-go snack holders.

Bottom shelf: pots and pans, pitcher, spoon, play food, spatulas and spoons.

Inspired by this post, we set up a water station several months ago. As soon as his glasses were within his reach, he started filling them.

Happy baby!

He does enjoy having everything where he can reach. He hasn't figured out that he can grab his toys and take them up on the counter with him - while he's in his learning tower - but I think we're close to that. Could be soon. And then - that'll be an interesting day, won't it...?

Daredevil Child

2011-09-07T14:28:00.000-07:00

Painting the floor...sortof

2011-08-28T16:40:00.000-07:00

Many months ago, one of the blogs I follow (who even knows which one - there are well over 100 in my reader) linked to this wonderful blog, where she painted the foam floor tiles that are ubiquitous in houses with kids.

Her "After" is very involved. I'm not that ambitious.

Then there was another post on another blog...again a little ambitious for me...although we have also had the foam tiles in our kitchen. Whether they will return again completely depends on my floor-cleaning schedule.

So anyway, here's my before: (from June, but fairly accurate in terms of neatness and what the floor looked like)

Pretty bright, considering the part of the house they're in. I went to home depot and got some primer and paint.

After one coat of primer:

After a second coat of primer, two coats of paint and sealer.

A friend of mine, after the last house post, said "where the crap is your tv?!?" It's that hulking tube screen in the corner back there.

I think we'll like it. And that mantel back there, it's a work in progress. Don't worry: it should be done in time for me to decorate for Christmas....

Whisking

2011-08-26T16:48:00.000-07:00

Inspired by this post at Carrots Are Orange:

And in case you were thinking that towel is just for splashes:

Happy Friday!

The one in which I recover the couch and hang something.

2011-08-24T19:35:00.000-07:00

Our couch, while super comfy, has seen better days.

You've always wanted cats, haven't you? (this is really just the most obvious damage - everything from ice cream to milk to spit up has graced the couch...and many, many naps.)

It's a good couch (storehouse - structurally, it's in amazing shape.) So in an effort to discourage the sort of behavior our cats have been exhibiting - and to make spills easier to clean up (and maybe help with allergies) we cheaped out and bought a slipcover. I bought it off the surefit site, but it's made for target (it has the label) and it was on clearance. I haven't been very happy with Target's home line, so we'll see how it holds up. The brown pillow covers on the small pillows are from restoration hardware and they're super soft. I bought them a few years ago - not sure if they still make them. (I just checked. They don't. They're faux fur - like the best teddy bear ever.)

It's not a perfect solution, but it's growing on me. And it's not uncomfortable for lounging, which is a plus.

The thing which I hung is my take on the rain gutter/IKEA spice rack/sling bookshelves:

It is found at Home Depot for the bargain price of $8 and wasn't entirely easy to hang (use hex bolts, drywall anchors, washers, and a socket wrench. A RATCHETING socket wrench....though why one would buy tools that don't ratchet it beyond me.)

It's hung at his height on the side of the room that's "his" and it houses library books. I think we'll enjoy it.

Have I told you about Oohmoon?

2011-08-23T20:19:00.000-07:00

I feel like I have. In case I haven't...GO THERE NOW.

Katie Moon is creating some of my favorite art - and for the first 24 hours of its online existence, it's free. Every week there's a new series, and I love every series more than the previous one.

When I've saved enough pennies (and feel like the time is right) we're going to commission a family portrait. Maybe a series.

Happy Arting!

Making a Ramp

2011-08-22T13:48:00.000-07:00

I have a kid whose favorite thing ever (so far) are cars. And construction equipment. The bigger the digger, the better.

So a few months ago, we pulled out some of Husband's matchbox cars and Baz hasn't stopped playing with them since.

Well, of course he needs a road for them. And until we get the play table and the road set we've got on our wishlist, (and maybe even after) cardboard will have to do!

So I took the box our hammock came in...

Cut it apart (with plain ol' scissors)

Folded and taped the end for the "Start"...

and then had to explain the concept to my child (who always lies down when I try and shoot from the floor...cute, but defeating my purposes.)

He figured it out.

By the way - that 3-wheeled car is named Tomber*, from Cars2 (which we haven't seen.) It's Reliant Robin (or based on, whatever) and it may be the funniest car ever made.

(*pronounced: Toomer. As in "It's not a tumor...")

(this is safe for work...if you work at the sort of place that allows you to watch BBC on Youtube...)

The One Where I Talk About My C-Section

2011-08-22T13:25:00.000-07:00

You can find it HERE.

And you can find the entire birth slideshow, here:

http://kellymphotography.com/slideshows/Sebastianbirth/

And this is the little man yesterday:

Happy Monday!

The $6 easel

2011-07-13T11:15:00.000-07:00

On our wall we have a white board. It's been there since we moved in and it existed on our wall in the loft, too. It lists important dates, our to-do list, shopping lists, etc. This weekend, I added a second piece of scrap (which had been in the loft as well, and stored in the current house.) I picked up a bucket from the $1 aisle at Target and a $5 package of dry-erase crayons. New favorite toy.

And yes, he does erase with one hand and draw with the other. It's adorable.

The View From My Window

2011-06-29T08:03:00.001-07:00

Untitled, originally uploaded by EmmieB1.

You did WHAT to your closet?

2011-06-27T09:21:00.000-07:00

I organized it.

And BOY HOWDY did it need it.

Seriously:

clutter

!!!!

much cuter to just focus on something else, eh?

So then I hit the Container Store (they do not gave two shakes that I am writing this post, btw. I just like what they've got)

So my helpers are: 1 Garment Bag, ! package of (the wrong style) hangers, 1 actual doorstop, and shelf dividers. And a cement mixer. Gotta have that.

Into my poor son's closet (with the wrapping paper) goes the garment bag full of bridesmaid dresses, maternity, and nursing dresses. All of my pre-pg dresses that aren't dated but fit weird are also in there.

Then I attacked my shoes. My feet shrank during my pregnancy, so several pairs had already been passed to my sister, but a few remained...no longer. YES, i save the shoeboxes. Respect your shoes.

The view from the door - the cedar chest is accessible again!

I centered the shelf (from target for $5 a zillion years ago...it might get painted) and used the dividers - everything has a place now. To the left are pants and tops and to the right are skirst and dresses and the few pairs of shoes who have lost their boxes. I wear those Toms every day. I'm not kidding. Toms also doesn't care who I am. I love their shoes, though.

That bag just to the left is a Christmas present for my son. I am officially my mother.

Conundrum: I have 5 American Girl dolls + clothes, accessories and..yes...some furniture. I kept it out in the hopes that a daughter would come along to play with them. That hasn't happened yet and I'm starting to worry about moths and dust and etc....anyone have any genius storage tips?

In the meantime: clean your closet! You will thank me.

Local Food

2011-06-10T18:02:00.000-07:00

I've done it again. Click here.

Can I call myself a "writer" if I'm doing it pro-bono? I'm going with "yes" and when people ask what I do I can say "I'm a writer."

Maybe one day I'll even get a chance to write an entire sentence of fiction again!

{this moment}

2011-06-10T09:05:00.000-07:00

{inspired by SouleMama}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

(I "broke" the rules and posted a video, which is really just a series of moments)

Today is not my birthday

2011-06-02T20:29:00.000-07:00

Today is the birthday of an old friend. I am drinking a glass of wine to her health.

Before you get too excited, I need to qualify: by "old" I mean: historical, in the past, not currently.

We broke up up. It was bitter, it was worse than any boyfriend break up I have ever experienced. It took a long time for me to not hate her. It took a long time for me to get where I was a few months ago: not really thinking of her much at all, considering that we spent our teens and most of our twenties in almost constant contact, spending several days a week together when we lived in the same place. Things remind me of her. Cars. Food. She crosses my mind but I have gotten to the place where I can greet my memories of her as old friends.

Our friendship was contentious since its start. I am emotional. As she would say: "One of us is a Gemini [her] and one of us is a Cancer [me.]" As though this explains everything. And maybe it does. I would always allow us to return to our happy place as though nothing had happened. No explanations, no apologies, just pick it up and move on. It's what friends do.

And then something happened. Something minor for which I was made to apologize profusely in order to get us back to our happy place. It was the beginning of the end.

Then another thing happened and this time it was her turn to apologize. None came and yet she expected that the presence of our mutual friends (of which there are plenty) would be enough to re-forge our broken friendship.

I suspect that the existence of those other friends was enough for me to realize that I did not have a desire to be in a friendship that was (as I now saw) completely one sided. And the longer we spent apart, the more time I spent analyzing and trying to decide if it was HER I missed or the IDEA of her...the more I realized that what I missed was her at 15, at 19, at 22. I do not miss the 27 year old she was when we split irrevocably.

I actually, honestly believe that if we lived in a pre-internet age, we would have drifted apart at college. She went out of state and I worked my way through school at home. We made new friends and developed new interests. We grew apart but we made huge effort to stay in touch.

And then it ended so badly. I am sorry for how badly it ended. I am sorry that what I needed to be able to mend our friendship was not something she was able to give me. I'm sorry that I felt the need to launch grenades at our bridge as I pushed her to acknowledge her mistake, and to suck up her pride and tell me that she missed *me.* I was ungraceful and - in retrospect - almost desperate. It wasn't a need to be right. It was a need for her to finally, finally step up and tell me that I was wrong - our relationship wasn't one sided. That she needed me as much as I needed her. But it never happened.

A mutual friend told me that she refers to me as "The Infamous One." I rather like that. Infamous, like train robbers and revolutionaries. Infamous like the people who are unafraid. It's a sign of respect, that she calls me that. She feels I am brave.

At any rate - this long, rambly, wine-induced blog is to say this: A long time ago, we used to be friends....if ever again, a greeting I send to you, short and sweet to your soul I intend.

Our friendship was a moment, but it was an important one. It passed, like all things, but it left its mark. I am who I am because of you. I am someone I like, because you spent the better part of two decades in my life.

We may be strangers now. We may have no interest in having a friendship, but that does not mean what we had is nothing. She was an important person. I crossed state lines for her.

Today she is one year older. I drink to her health, to the health of her family, and tonight before bed I will meditate loving kindness to her. (It is, after all, what healed the wound that was her-shaped to begin with.)

Happy Birthday to you.

.

Yoga, Baby!

2011-06-02T12:28:00.000-07:00

Not here...HERE.

Outtakes:

...but is it ART, Eddie?

2011-05-30T19:11:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to think of the End-Of-Life of the things I buy. It helps keep the house free of clutter and helps keep me from impulse buying (too much.)

So for example, I picked up this $10 set of (stainless!) pans from IKEA, knowing that they would have a nice long life of being played with and may even be in decent enough shape to pass along to a new family when our kids have outgrown them, whenever that may be. For the money, it's an investment.

I wasn't wrong:

I also, a few months ago now, bought a bag of wooden beads from a local Waldorf-inspired toy shop that I frequent. They're meant to be strung, but I thought Baz would enjoy sorting and dumping...and again I was not wrong.

Then, a week or so ago, it occurred to me that I didn't hesitate to drop a whole bunch of money on a sand and water table that isn't the best open-ended toy, is a giant hunk of plastic (go petroleum products!) and will likely wear out before it can be donated to the next family. I bought it because I knew he would enjoy it. And we're entering Stage 6, which means it's time to step up our game (yet again.)

And I was right: he loves it.

So then, because of his impending Stage Sixness, and my desire to own things that are not only useful but beautiful, I went back to the Toy Store and I plunked down the money for the bead box. (I was also spurned on by my sister, who is a first grade teacher, saying "isn't he about ready to sort by color?" Whether he is or not is irrelevant. The box is art and that was all the incentive I needed.)

I can see all the way past childhood with this bad boy.

I am now going to wax poetic about quality here, people. This product could be reproduced by someone with time and skills, but I am not that someone. I recognize my limits and I am ok with them. I will happily keep a local shop in business by paying them to stock the things I cannot make myself. (This thing is made by this company.)

So 1st: notice how the beads disappear in the boxes. QA, people. It's not just a fancy acronym.

Second:

prettttyyyyyy

3rd:

Note the mitered corners? And the dovetail joints? That makes these bad boys glue free and less likely to off-gas.

4th:

even the tray has mitered corners.

5th:

The tray - a basic piece of this set - it need not be pretty because it's to be filled with boxes. But if needed, it's pretty enough that I can take the boxes off and serve cheese on it. (on parchment, obviously.)

6th:

Even out of order, the colors are beautiful.

Every time I walk past his little table and I see this smiling up at me it makes me happy. When he's too old for sorting, it can hold crayons. And then colored pencils. And brushes. And then flowers. (I may not wait for flowers.)

Our children will enjoy it and then it will take up residence in the space I use to create, inspiring me with it's age and beauty. And then I will pass it down to grandchildren, who will also love it.

And it was only slightly more expensive than the sand and water table. A bargain, in my book.

I didn't just buy a sorting box. I bought an heirloom.

If only every purchase were as fulfilling.

(the little pull-toy under the table came from Baz's aunt and uncle. He has recently discovered pull-toys as they are intended and it gives him great delight to make this one follow him.)

Strawberry Cake

2011-05-30T10:56:00.000-07:00

(recipe)

(Steve's morning slice)

A Little Porch Action

2011-05-25T14:24:00.000-07:00

I have a single "before" shot - and it's of our brick pile:

That's actually halfway depleted - the other half having been moved several months ago...and abruptly cut off by my need to kill a black widow. It took a while to get up the gumption to go back.

But go back we did, because I hit up IKEA last friday and bought patio furniture...which necessitated the rearranging of the hodge-podge we already had.

So while I put this together:

Steve moved bricks (I helped move bricks, too, just not as many...due to the spider issue. And the child refusing to nap issue.)

The child sorted twigs for us:

And finally! It was all moved:

A bit of cleanup (and cheering) and we now have this setup:

The hidden brick pile (we're keeping those bricks for re-use eventually) and the barrel of trash and a random folding table top and some plastic that is there to protect the concrete from the weather (or something)

The owners old picnic table (which is halfway sanded and will be repainted) and bench, and the two folding chairs we bought from Target last year.

(cushions, table set)

New picnic table and chairs! The wind chimes were an anniversary present from Steve's sister and her husband. I LOVE them. I had to wrap the chain in green because raw chain is just not something I could be down with when I hung it.

(bench, side table)

The front porch. We like that every piece is sized and weighted so that a single person can pick it up and move it - so when we have guests we can accommodate more people in the back where the action is.

A few other shots from around the joint:

I got sick of what was over the mantle. Now it needs attention.

Baz's new sand and water table. Yes, we have "shirt, diaper, socks" days a lot around here.

Peonies growing in spite of my adoration.

Pomegranate blooms!

The peach tree and the "new" barbeque table.

Plum cherries...maybe to made into wine?

Figs

More plum cherries

Aren't they cute as they run away? Mama does not like that I scared her babies. This brings out feral cat colony up to TEN. Traps will be procured and set when they're weaned. It's beyond time. We're the crazy cat people!

I'm over at NPN today

2011-05-03T12:54:00.000-07:00

find me here.
Also, we're in Dallas for a little while longer...hence the radio silence. It's going to take me a month to get through all of the photos I've taken so far...and I've got 7 days and 2 events coming up!

Happy Tuesday!

in which I post a rather long list

2011-04-19T08:28:00.000-07:00

In case you're reading in a reader and missed the two new buttons on my blog, I've teamed up with the Natural Parents Network to help bring the Good News of Crunchy Love to people all over this fine planet.

Today, we're having a link-up, and all of the rest of the lovely parents have shared their favorite post with you.

Joella at Fine and Fair discusses her unique perspective of a controversial toy in An Unusual Gripe with Bebe Gloton.
Amy at Innate Wholeness offers simple tips to be present with family whether you're having fun and want to soak it up like a sponge or would rather run and hide in a cave.
Charise at I Thought I Knew Mama shares sound bites from her miscarriage journey of forgiveness and gratitude.
Shannon from Pineapples and Artichokes writes about how she is trying to raise her daughter to be accepting of everyone.
Jennifer at Hybrid Rasta Mama discusses the overuse of the word "no" and offers some aid in finding creative ways to avoid "no."
Melissa from The New Mommy Files: Memories, Milestones and Missteps makes a compelling case for instinctual mothering.
Amanda at Let's Take the Metro shares a comprehensive list of all the food she keeps on hand.
Suchada at Mama Eve writes a heartfelt letter chronicling her journey with a difficult transition in Sleep, Crying, and Balancing Closeness with Boundaries.
Shannon of The ArtsyMama shares her top ten list of things she wishes she had known more about before the birth of her son, Little Man.
Kristin at Intrepid Murmurings has some helpful insights, tips, and tricks to share for babywearing with twins.
Julia at A Little Bit of All of It tells the story of how motherhood came to her and how a miscarriage shaped her feelings and perceptions surrounding the birth of her first daughter.
Emily from Embrita Blogging shares a collection of photos depicting things that make her happy.
Lauren at Hobo Mama openly discusses an often-sensitive topic: Postpartum sex vs. sex before kids.
As part of an ongoing series about balance, Amy at Anktangle writes about a daily ritual she has adopted to help her maintain balance in her life.
Cynthia at The Hippie Housewife is reminded that while the days may sometimes be long, the years are short, and after a rough day the best thing to do is give thanks for the best parts and try again tomorrow.
Dionna at Code Name: Mama offers 7 Alternatives to Good Job: "Good job'ing" kids can be a mindless habit to fall into. Instead of using a generic "good job," try one of these ideas to really connect with and nurture your child.
Darcel at The Mahogany Way has the ultimate boredom busting activity for children of all ages.
Alicia at Lactation Narration discusses the long journey of child-led weaning, during which she thought several times that her child was weaned before she really was.
Mandy at Living Peacefully With Children: Letting go of the illusion of control opens up a an entirely new world.
Luschka at Diary of a First Child talks about the battle between breastfeeding and formula feeding mothers and the industry that stokes the flames of a war on mothers.
Mary Michael at The Accidental Natural Mama recounts her journey to Mama-hood.
Sheryl at Little Snowflakes talks about the benefits of nursing a child to sleep.
Rachael at The Variegated Life meditates on the moment when she first saw herself fully embodying her life as a mother.
Momma Jorje shares some good news and important information about Lindane and Lice.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-04-13T19:21:00.000-07:00

I'm not ashamed.

5 ways to show respect for your child

2011-04-10T15:58:00.000-07:00

I would have commented there, but the comments are closed so I'm linking here and saying what I would have said there...if that makes sense.

These feel like no-brainers...except they're also easy traps to fall into. There's a family with 3 girls whom I've babysat since they were infants (now they're teenagers!) and the times i've picked them up for school or stayed for several days, I've found myself barraging them with questions or answering for them - especially the youngest. This is definitely something I'll bookmark and come back to as Baz grows up.

Read the whole article at Positive Parenting Solutions.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-04-06T14:56:00.000-07:00

Why yes, I did make these pants. And you can, too! Pattern here.

Happy Opening Day!

2011-03-31T08:58:00.000-07:00

This is my grandfather and his best friend in 1938.

How nice life would be if we all took the time to go outside and have an impromptu game of....anything, really. You should do it. I dare you.

She Left Proof

2011-03-24T18:51:00.000-07:00

So this morning, Ashley at Under The Sycamore, led me to a flickr group. I immediately joined. If you have children and a camera, you should join, too.

Here's the "mission statement"

"Many scrapbookers knew Aleida Franklin. She was a wonderful wife and mother and a brilliant artist. I didn't know Aleida personally, but she taught me something I will never forget.

She emailed me last year to tell me she loved my blog and to ask if I liked my short hair-cut. This lead to a series of emails which eventually led me to remark that I really loved how often she posted pictures of herself with her children on her blog. And she replied to me, "Have you ever seen a photograph of your own mother and thought to yourself how fat she looked? Or how she wasn't wearing make-up? Or wasn't dressed in a glamorous outfit?" Of course my answer was no.

She then responded with saying that she made it a goal to take a picture of herself with her children at least once every month. And that to use excuses about how we look, as women, is ridiculous, since our children will never care what we looked like, but only that we had physical evidence of the bond between mother and child.

Aleida tragically and unexpectedly passed away in an auto accident in September of 2008, leaving 2 small children and a grieving husband. After she passed I thought of how those children must feel to have those precious photographs. I have made it my personal goal to follow her wise suggestion and I try to take photos of myself with my children....double chins, make-up free, bed-head and all.

I invite Mothers everywhere to take Aleida's Challenge. To photograph yourself with your children each and every month. And to post them here so that we can see Aleida's legacy unfolding."

There's a little flashy in my sidebar right below the link to my flickr. If you click the flashie it will take you to Emilie, who created the group and the flashie. Get your own. Every time you see it blink, pull out your camera and get in the shot.

(4 Generations - my Grandmother, my sister, my mom, my great-grandmother, and me. circa 1982ish.)

Wordless Wednesday

2011-03-23T08:29:00.001-07:00

again....I'm over here!

10 Things That Make Me Happy

2011-03-18T13:45:00.000-07:00

"Normal" is Just Someone You Don't Know Very Well

2011-03-16T11:16:00.000-07:00

A theme I run into over and over and over again: the idea of "fitting in" or "not fitting in." That of being "normal," "ordinary," "extraordinary," etc etc...all in quotes because: what the fuck does that even mean?

What is NORMAL?

I have found myself saying to Husband - on more than on occasion lately - that I still don't quite feel like I fit in here. For the record: I knew I didn't fit in in Dallas. We were living like "Europeans" in Dallas. (Yes, I heard that one more than once...what does that even mean?)

But I have a laundry list of ways I do/don't fit in...I can point to people in my life who share some, but not all of these items. I know people much more hardcore about living the "Green" life, and I know people much more apathetic about it. I see the cliques, and in some cases I belong to them but mostly each group of people has their own parameters they seem to meet.

I put a poll on one of the mommy boards I frequent and I find that most of the moms (59.8%) feel like they fit in with little or no effort. 37.6% don't feel like they fit in with an even split between caring greatly and not caring at all.

It took a long time for me to be comfortable not being part of the group. It took even longer for me to not care that other people had opinions of me.

I am who I am. All of those children's stories about embracing your specialness don't really slide home once you're in the pubescent throws of high school...and for some people it never passes. Awkward 'til the end, which is unfortunate.

I feel like this post is bumbling. That there should be some great moral at the end. Something to make you say "aha!" But really - it's just thoughts I'm having and barfing out onto the internet. Apparently, that's what it's here for.

I could leave you with advice, so here it is (based on another poll I posted on another board where I decidedly DID NOT fit in...to the point that the mean girls enjoyed taking shots at me (mean girls who want to FB friend me now...hahahaha. No.) )

You should live your life as though you were going to meet yourself at a party. If you would want to chat yourself up, get to know you better, hang out and trade secrets - then you're living a life as the best version of you. It takes bravery. Be brave.

I leave you with words much wiser than mine:

and

Wordless Wednesday

2011-03-16T07:57:00.000-07:00

It's actually in very good company here today: http://naturalparentsnetwork.com/wordless-wednesday-healthy-eating/

Curtains.

2011-03-05T16:24:00.000-08:00

You know what's annoying?

When the people who paint the walls don't bother to remove hardware.

You know what's not annoying?

That our walls aren't THAT color anymore.

Also - we have pretty sheers on our front window now, instead of some seriously ghetto mini-blinds. I would have taken pictures, but they were mortifyingly sad.

Happy Weekend!

I'm thinking this might count...

2011-03-01T08:22:00.000-08:00

as today's RAOK...spreading the love that the new Rhythm of the Home is out!

We were all very sad to hear that Mothering folded, but luckily Rhythm of the Home has been slowly gaining momentum and - while it doesn't slide perfectly into the void left by Mothering - it certainly has the same heart-warming goodness.

So if you're already a fan, consider this a reminder to go check out their new offerings, and if you're not a fan, then you should definitely go check out new offerings and browse the old offerings while you're at it!

Additionally, they're having a giveaway. We all love giveaways.

Happy Tuesday!

Random Kindness

2011-02-28T20:09:00.000-08:00

All. Month. Long. I may or may not track it all here, but every day I will be more than polite. I will be more than courteous and I will make Grandmama proud.

What about you? Feeling like a March of Kindness? Need some inspiration?

"Despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart." - Anne Frank

And I leave you with cuteness:

Steve finger paints with Baz....a random act of kindness...?

So THAT'S What Cream of Tartar is for!

2011-02-25T07:46:00.000-08:00

Play dough.

I fully copied Meg at Sew Liberated and used this recipe. It was ridiculously easy. I also decided not to reinvent the wheel and got myself to the Container Store and picked up the easiest-to-seal food storage container ever:

(source)

And then we had some play dough fun times:

He had nap hair, which makes me swoon.

And for funsies:

Restoring my faith in nature

2011-02-24T21:13:00.000-08:00

So Monday was a holiday and Steve was working from home. All well and good and then we hear a bang and he says "what was that? Did a bird just fly into a window?" And I say "no. Maybe an orange hit the car."

I had one eye on the pictures I was hanging in the hallway (they've been on the floor for two years. I figured it was time) and one eye on Sebastian who has discovered the fun of looking out the window in his room and therefore could not be bothered to investigate.

Steve did. He reported that a bird had, in fact, flown into the window and now appeared to by dying under the back orange tree. This made me very sad. I looked, and confirmed that what we were looking at were likely death throes.

I tore us away from the window with assurances that once he was truly at peace we would bury him in one of the newly dug holes in the backyard.

Steve immediately started instant messaging with my sister. I sent her a picture on my phone (first of the bird and then of the amount of blood.) I chased off the hooligans.

Particularly this one (Helo)

Then I noticed something: the bird (a male woodpecker) was picking up his head. Then he started looking around. I let out a little whoop and informed my sister who gave me instructions on nursing an injured bird back to health. I grabbed a shoebox and some rags and gloves and when I came out again he was sitting up in roughly this position:

Poor little guy probably had a migraine in his entire body. We brought him inside and showed Baz, who thought it was the Best.Thing.EVER. Then we put the box in a spot we were certain could not be reached by the cats and ate lunch - checking on him every few minutes.

There was nothing more to be done at that point. He was either going to recover or he was going to slip away. As long as we kept him safe and warm and away from the cats until he looked well enough to eat we were doing our best.

Luckily, after lunch when we peeked we were greeted with a very confused bird.

Who promptly started to fly:

I donned yet another pair of gloves and carried him outside where he was more than happy to fly as high as possible into the juniper tree at the back of our property.

I haven't seen him since, but I have seen his girlfriend. She was eating seeds out of the few remaining pomegranates on the tree outside the window.

I've set up a feeder for them. Hopefully they'll stick around and become helpful birds who sing and tie ribbons in my hair. That happens, right?

I am a contest entering fool

2011-02-21T21:06:00.000-08:00

Have you seen oohmoon?

You haven't? I have been slowly amassing her AMAZING illustrations for use in Baz's bathroom and now she's giving away a family portrait.

The bathroom that is now home to this:

go here, check her out:

http://oohmoon.com/

You know I'm entering this!

2011-02-18T18:16:00.000-08:00

Montessori Homeschool curriculum for 3-6.

http://www.blog.montessoriforeveryone.com/a-giveaway-of-a-lifetime.html

Wish me luck!

Bonus photo:

Celebrating the Scribble

2011-02-16T18:48:00.000-08:00

Last week I ordered this book from Hicklebees that is all about encouraging writing development. (Bonus: the author is an occupational therapist so she knows of what she speaks.)

I've only just started it, but we know that Baz already has a love of crayons, so now I make a point of having coloring time every day. Some days I color with him and some days I fold laundry or pick up.

Most helpful tip so far: when coloring with your child, keep your art on the same developmental level as theirs so they don't get discouraged. In hindsight this rings true. If only I had known as a teenage babysitter!

The next quandary: what to do with all of this art? Blogs and publications galore talk about the myriad ways you can save and show off and honor your child's efforts.

I went with two robe hooks from target, some grosgrain and the animal pegs:

He loves it:

(I've seen this before, but I can't for the life of me remember where. When I figure it out, I will credit the genius who inspired this.)

Wordless Wednesday

2011-02-16T10:17:00.000-08:00

These Aren't the Chickens You're Looking For

2011-02-11T23:18:00.000-08:00

So after we cleaned up from coloring, and Baz was down for his nap I decided it was time to take advantage of him sleeping and me being caught up with the laundry and (mostly) caught up with the dishes and take my new toy out to capture the beginnings of spring in our back yard.

Little did I know when I rounded the corner what I would find. Namely:

That's right. Chickens. The neighbors have a LOT of chickens and every now and again the more adventurous ones escape. Four is a record, though. And these guys were unafraid.

This is what I went out to shoot: Cherry Blossoms.

With lots of birds hanging out in them, scolding the chickens for eating their spilled birdseed.

This dark gal was on to me from the start. Had I not been wielding my new toy, I would have chased her down like Rocky and tossed her over the fence.

Instead, I took pictures of the apricot buds:

And this little guy, holding out long after his friends have flown to uninfested feeders, giving those chickens what-for.

The chickens were unconcerned. Apparently, this spot held the motherload of tasty business. The light was gone by the time their rightful owner did manage to chase them down and heave them over the fence, so it will be this weekend that I shoot the aftermath.

Baby, glad for some action in her day. She preened the whole time I was out there.

And when Baz woke up from his nap I walked him out to show him the silliest thing in our backyard. His little eyebrows lifted at the first clucking, and when we finally saw them he looked from the chickens to me and back and all he said was "huh" before smiling and insisting he be put down so he could crawl after them. Although mostly, he just hung out and watched them run around like chickens with their heads...not cut off.

A little play time

2011-02-10T20:29:00.000-08:00

Today I pulled out some fancy clothespins (originally purchased from a local boutique with the intention of using them to hang art) and a couple of empty milk jars and gave them all to Baz.

And then the mailman startled him and the moment was gone.

But he has discovered where the mail can be found...

The office...prepared

2011-02-05T17:23:00.000-08:00

The office is (closer to) finished! Behold the best two parts:

This is the ubiquitous IKEA Expedit bookshelf. It is awesome. We moved everything electric/with flashy lights got moved to the top - printer up there on the left and next to it the router, magazines (note the alone hat), my Employee of the Year trophy from Cooper (brag, brag) and the network something or other.

Second shelf (l to r): scanner, Montessori albums and yarn, sewing books, cookbooks.

Third Shelf: printer paper, stationary/card supplies, ditto, cookbooks

Fourth: Legal pads, file folders, stamp stuff/card stuff, yarn etc, cookbooks (and blocks)

Bottom: pull toys, silks, wire maze, duplo blocks.

The silks are actually more Waldorf than Montessori, but I like the different shapes and sizes and textures for sensory exploration - and Baz likes them, too.

The handle-hole is the best part, in his opinion.

Turn 90 degree to the right and there's the desk with the lone computer (yay for downsizing!) and the music corner. 88 key synth, violin, and there on the left: Baz's instruments. There's also some books and some toys for him to pull out and play with when he wants.

That blue bag has the remaining VOLTRON pieces that are waiting to make their way to Steve's office.

Not pictured- my desk/sewing table. Because it's a train wreck back there.

Laundry

2011-01-26T15:38:00.000-08:00

Crayon Making Part 2

2011-01-24T14:39:00.000-08:00

Since the previous crayons were a partial fail, I went with the old standby: muffin tins.

Baz helped by eating a teething biscuit. (And the weird light is because it's super nice today so we had the kitchen door open.)

Step one: DON'T OVERFILL.

Helpful tip: use a paring knife to slit the crayon wrapping - it just flips off then. Otherwise you're peeling all these irritating strips that just rip apart. You know what I mean.

Right out of the oven.

Dried but not entirely cool.

They just slipped right out of the muffin papers - funky spikes and all.

I rolled them around to remove the spikes and then flipped them upside down to show you the bottom effect.

In their little tin (thanks, IKEA!)

They're stored in the tin by the finger paints, card stock (which we got from our nice neighbor and - being thicker - is a nice starting paper for baby art.)

That's the sensory tray on the right. It's "asleep" for now because he decided it was more fun to take handfuls and drop on the floor. One day next week we'll pull it back out and try again. For the record - he doesn't get "in trouble" for "bad behavior" (all in quotes because he's 12 months old, for cripes sake) - we simply say "ok, all finished!" after a few warnings, and then put away whatever he's having a hard time with. A few days later it comes out as though nothing happened and we start over. I'll let you know how that works out.

And now - since he's *actually napping* I'm going to do the dishes.

I found a dollar in the washing machine today. I'm fairly certain it was mine to begin with, but it was like being paid to do chores. I got a little thrill. A WHOLE DOLLAR! I'm RICH!

Crayon Making Part 1

2011-01-23T20:01:00.000-08:00

Silicone Mold + ancient crayons + our most abused cookie sheet (and parchment for easy clean up)

Helpful Baby

De-paper, break, over-fill

Melty-goodness (after being in the oven at 250 for 15-20 minutes)

I'm thinking this was an ice mold...and not meant for the heat.

oops

But look at how cool!

The yellow one is my least favorite out of my top 4 successful crayons.

The boneyard.

Tomorrow - we'll do them in muffin tins.

Sensory Tub Take 1

2011-01-15T19:46:00.000-08:00

I keep reading about the importance of sensory tubs/tables.

There aren't a lot of "activities" available to the under-2.5 crowd these days, so we take what we can get.

Mine was easy peasy to make. I happened to have a cake tin collecting dust with my other (not disposable, but also collecting dust) cake tins. I poured into it rice (it was on sale in the bulk aisle of Whole Foods) and Black Beans (ditto the rice) and sticky gummy frogs (party favor bag aisle at Target) and tiny pom poms (ditto the frogs.)

Baz dove in.

He dug around.

He taste-tested.

He made a mess.

It's not fun if it's not messy.

Dad "helped," too.

And then, for the coup de grace, I gave him a "scoop."

Good times, my friends. Good times.

The anti-resolution. AKA: Sankalpa

2011-01-07T21:10:00.000-08:00

My darlings, I have the viral plague. Ok, what I really have is your run-of-the-mill head cold, but it knocked me out for most of the day. Blessedly, my husband stayed home and took on the breakfast, diaper washing, naps, lunch, block building, crawling around, cleaning up, snot wiping, and general parenting aspects of our days.

If I hadn't felt like absolute sludge, it would have been positively vacation- like. Especially since we're in full-on weaning mode. Night wakings are met with a bottle now. Sometimes water, and sometimes a few ounces of milk. Which means the nursing sessions today weren't excruciating and we were all awake for shorter periods last night. When we are all healthy (poor Bunny still can't breathe through his nose) I'm certain the night will become one long dream cycle. And yes, I have no small amount of guilt for weaning while he's sick. But seriously, darlings...I just...can't anymore. Nursing shouldn't be something you dread. And I do.

Anyway, the point of this post is to put out there my resolution. Yes, it's a resolution post.

Except.

I'm not resolving to do anything I haven't already been doing - or trying to do.

So it's more like a re-affirmation of my Sankalpa. Isn't that fun to say? It means "resolve" or "intention" - to set intentions.

According to the winter issue of Yoga International: "A sankalpa practice starts from the radical premise that you already are who you need to be to fulfill your life's dharma. All you need to do is focus your mind, connect to your most heartfelt desires, and channel the divine energy within."

It's genius is its simplicity. And the great unburdening that happens when you inhale, allow yourself to know that you are enough, and exhale away all of the expectations you have laid on your own shoulders.

So with sankalpa you have two paths: 1) heartfelt desire. More encompassing than a resolution, but also easier in that you are already enough. You're just reaffirming it. 2) An actual goal.

Mine is both. It is so simple and so, so complex.

Are you ready?

Be Present.

That's it. Two little words. They encompass so, so much. Including an awareness of how I spend our time and money, how I treat our bodies, and nourishing my growing baby's spirit...which then breaks down to: do more yoga, spend less frivolously, watch less tv, play more, have some structure, and recognize that the need for attention is a big need in such a small boy and putting him off harms both of us. Oh, and get organized.

But really, it's just to make sure the every moment is one that I am present for. So many people say "where did the time go?" And so far I haven't had that feeling. My baby turns 1 next Tuesday and I'm not wondering where the time went. I did not give birth, blink, and it's a year later.

It was a full year. With days in the park, errands being run, people to talk to, librarians to flirt with. Visitors, plane rides, weddings, new friends, new adventures. The laundry piled up and was seen to. Dishes piled up and were seen to. Swaddling blankets made way for rattles which were joined by blocks, all stacked up with books and surrounded by music and hugs and food.

There was also illness, tantrums (mine and his), the agony of six teeth cutting through in less than two months. The sheer refusal to stand or walk alone, the joy of learning to clap (just yesterday, actually.)

Will I succeed? One can only hope. But even if I don't, I will take a deep breath and remind myself that the effort is almost as important as success and that for every slip there is redemption and that if I let it all go - I am already enough.

A new year, and entering Stage 5

2011-01-01T16:37:00.000-08:00

That's right, I said it: stage FIVE. Is he walking? Nope. Not yet. But the second he figures out he doesn't need my fingers, he will be.

So we've prepared (and are still preparing) the environment for it.

We're a little late to the game with the weaning table, but I'm ok with that. Baz eats most meals at the table with us...and most meals still consist of Cheddar Bunnies and milk so I figure there's really no hurry.

But we set the table and chairs up yesterday and he's a fan:

I'm going to try to blog more - I have it in my head that turning one will magically result in a toddler with fine motor skills and a vocabulary that makes everything more fun. Realistically I know this is going to take a while, but a girl can hope, right?

I've updated my HomeSchoolMasterList (it's intimidating when it's all one word, isn't it?) And I've got some Tot School planners laminated on the fridge.

Since toddlers learn best through play, and everyone craves structure, I'm treating parts of our days like we're in preschool. I've got Early Childhood Education under my belt and I'm not afraid to use it! So in theory the blog will chart progress and record milestones and activities - in addition to being a place for me to dump my brain.

If only we all had a pensieve....

Weaning

2010-11-13T20:06:00.000-08:00

My baby is 10 months old. He looks more and more like a little boy every day. It's thrilling and heart breaking.

Like those two little teeth coming in there. (The blur on the bottom is his thumb, not mine. All other pictures are either obscured completely by his hand or his tongue. He has that kind of relationship with the camera.)

They have caused me more pain than I've ever experienced...and I say this as someone who a)never labored but b) had a swollen brain.

I'll spare you the details...ok: pus, blood, open wounds, mastitis (AGAIN)....and just a touch of thrush.

The consensus is in: voracious eater. He's figuring it out so it's not as painful as it has been, but I'm paying attention. The writing is on the wall.

"Mama," he's saying. "Vlah, vlah, vlah, gah, grooo"

And I get it. The bottles and cups mean that he can graze, he can look around, he can continue to be busy and still get his 15-20oz of mama milk every day.

But I am going to pick a session and keep it for as long as he'll let me. Here's hoping it's not the 3:30am one.

I ran across this today on my mommy board and it made me teary. So of course, I'm sharing with you:

Wean Me Gently
by Cathy Cardall

I know I look so big to you,
Maybe I seem too big for the needs I have.
But no matter how big we get,
We still have needs that are important to us.
I know that our relationship is growing and changing,
But I still need you. I need your warmth and closeness,
Especially at the end of the day
When we snuggle up in bed.
Please don't get too busy for us to nurse.
I know you think I can be patient,
Or find something to take the place of a nursing;
A book, a glass of something,
But nothing can take your place when I need you.
Sometimes just cuddling with you,
Having you near me is enough.
I guess I am growing and becoming independent,
But please be there.
This bond we have is so strong and so important to me,
Please don't break it abruptly.
Wean me gently,
Because I am your mother,
And my heart is tender.

A little bathroom project

2010-10-14T11:53:00.000-07:00

We have our diaper/potty station set up in Steve's bathroom for a few reasons.

1) I want all potty/bathing/hygiene related activities to happen in the bathroom. My theory is that it will then just be that place where those things happen rather than someplace we have to introduce and explain later. And if he knows that potties are for pooping in and not playing in then I'm hopeful we can avoid having our pipes clogged with matchbox cars later down the road.

2) It came with a conveniently sized counter for just such a purpose.

3) It keeps dirty diapers out of his room, which is the most child-safe spot in the house. Thus allowing him to explore unfettered...and without offending us all with the amazing stench that has recently associated itself with his back-end. Luckily - not only does our bathroom have a window, but the wet bag pretty much contains the stink.

The downside was our changing pad. It was a hand me down from an amazing friend and it is perfect for our purposes...but it didn't have a cover. So it was just plain ol' white plastic. And I *needed* to cover it.

Thankfully, Baz has started taking some semi-decent naps, so over the course of THREE FREAKING DAYS - I managed to sew 2 seams and get it on there. Behold:

I used THIS tutorial. It's a quilting fabric on top - I can remember neither the make nor the model, but it's from the Bobbin's Nest - and a plain white terry on the bottom, which I got in 3 boxes worth of cloth diapering fabric I scored a few months ago.

I also managed to whip out a pre-fold belt...but that's another story.

Happy Thursday!

Another Test

2010-10-14T11:11:00.001-07:00

PA040150, originally uploaded by EmmieB1.

I think this size is better.

Testing

2010-10-14T11:10:00.001-07:00

PA040151
Originally uploaded by EmmieB1
Testing the flickr-to-blog link :-)

I've been a bad blogger.

2010-10-02T13:11:00.000-07:00

Really, what it is, is that I've been a busy mommy who's let her blogging slide.
Oops.

Let's see...what's new....we went to a Mama's and Movers class on Thursday and will go for the next two thursdays. It's at Harmony Birth and Bunny just LOVED it. It's a little bit of pilates and yoga for moms and playing for the crawlers/early walkers. He's never been around so much chaos. Next Thursday I will take pictures. I wanted us to be comfortable this time rather than my worrying about catching his reactions.

I bought a big car seat. There are pictures on my F75.

Speaking of which, one of the blogs I follow - Life With my 3 Boybarians (how great is that name?) is doing a 31 days to better photos series... I've decided to give it a whirl.

Step one: I did some serious googling and actually found the F75 users manual. And am now printing all 67 double pages of it.

I've started up the flickr...we went to a wedding (which I was in) in Maine...I carved a clay pumpkin....Bunny learned to crawl....and if these teeth don't break through soon I might scream.

The end.

In which I pimp products

2010-08-26T14:28:00.000-07:00

ok, 2 products*

A few days ago, in order to beat the insane (for South Bay) heat, we headed to the mall. It was full of people who had the exact same idea. I know you're shocked.

Normally, my child hangs out in his stroller for about a mile before he either passes out completely or lets the entire world know just what kind of injustice he is suffering at the hands of his (very mean) mommy.

That day, however, I was prepared. I had a whopping FOUR OUNCES of breastmilk in a brand new sippy/bottle from ThinkBaby (pictured above)...also known as Bunny's favorite new toy. It's the only bottle/cup that he drinks from with minimal fussing and playing. It's the only time he's ingested a significant amount of milk from anything that isn't my boob when I've been around. The kicker, though? He fed himself.

He fed himself.

Four ounces.

Happily.

Happy Baby = Happy Mommy.

I think it's the spout and the kid-sized handles. It will convert from a bottle, too, which is a total bonus. If only I'd heard about them sooner. But now we know.

So how did we hear about them? I'll tell you. I want to kick myself. After you read, you'll do a facepalm, too.

I was in one of my favorite baby boutiques (BabyBuzz) about to buy shoes for my child who wants to stand all the time, even on wood chips - which is the ground cover at both close parks. The owner, who is fantastic, was having a meeting with the owners of ThinkBaby. They wander out and tell me all about their product. I am intrigued. They coo over Bunny (because he is very coo-worthy, but on this day we were both sleep deprived from the teething that seems to never end and he wasn't his high wattage self) and then the very nice ThinkBaby owner says something along the lines of: "Hi, Sebastian, would you like to be a Thinkbaby model?'

Did you read the part about sleep deprivation?

Because I apologized for our general demeanor and told him how tired Bunny was.

The answer I should have given?

(it's about 1:52)

Right. The answer is YES.

sigh.

He's a cranky pants, but he could earn his keep.

I kid.

Anyway - I love this sippy. I'll have to pick up at least one more so we can rotate.

The other product in that shot up there? A Mommy Necklace. Cute, carcinogen-free, durable, guaranteed for 3 years....I don't know what they did, but when Bunny yanks it doesn't even hurt my neck. I wear it a lot. It helps focus him while he nurses (sometimes.) And when necessary, it doubles as a sippy leash.

(I can't for the life of me remember who makes this place mat, but it is also awesome. It suctions to the table and has a trough for catching fallen star noodles.)

*I am not employed by anyone mentioned above. I'm not employed at all. Nothing was swag. Being a card-carrying member of the suburban housewife set, I paid for these. And they were worth every penny.

An Ordinary Day

2010-08-15T10:10:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine challenged us to post up a "day in the life" blog entry.

I accepted her challenge and devoted Wednesday to snapping an almost minute-by-minute account of what it is we do all day.

First: we get up. And by "we" I mean "Steve and Bunny." I roll out of bed anywhere from 5-90 minutes later, depending on the morning and the quality of sleep the night before.

Steve and Bunny make coffee and read the news.

We say goodbye to Steve (who cycles to work) and then we get dressed.

We put on sunscreen

And go to the park:

This day, we swung by Pizza My Heart for my lunch, which made the walk about 2 miles.

So we found a shady spot and got settled.

While I munched on my (mushroom) slice, we pondered why anyone would want to play golf on a baseball diamond.

Then we wondered why people play golf at all...

Then we read. (review to come - I highly recommend it.)

We practiced crawling. Then there were people playing pickup basketball on the court so every ounce of our practice stopped while Bunny tried to figure out just how tall he would have to be to get the ball into his mouth.

He settled for my finger.

And when I took it away to get out the bubbles, he decided to try his hand at a selfie:

I distracted him by blowing bubbles at a squirrel.

bubbles not pictured.

If it takes all day, he's going to get this ball in his mouth. (Note the tongue and the determined expression.)

After a while we decided that our blanket had been played out, so we hit the swings, aka: Bunny's newest addiction.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "sheesh, how idyllic. What a charming and delightfully well behaved baby. What a deliciously relaxing life. I'd like to slow down and have lovely warm afternoons in the park, too..."

Well, there are two sides to every baby.

Above: happy park baby.

Below: what happens when he falls asleep in the stroller and wakes up too early with tooth pain in our boring house.

(actually, this is what extreme separation anxiety looks like. The treatment is to walk out of the room anyway. This behavior, which in reality lasts a total of however long I'm out of reach, is nearly my undoing. We are all hopeful that once his gnarly little teeth cut he will chill the fuck out. Until then, I wear a scarlet A on my nursing bra. A for Asshole.)

Of course, once he's blown that out and plays some more and gets a little more milk in him, it's time to feed the outdoor kitties.

Cylon.

Toaster.

Not pictured: Wookie (also small and grey), Widget (black and white), Scarface (black and white), and Hunley (all black.) If you're interested in adopting one or all of these little guys, let me know. They could use a nice warm lap. Once they get over being terrified of humans, that is.

Also not pictured are the indoor kitties (Polly and Kipper) - probably because they spent the day outside under the neighbor's bushes...stalking their chickens.

Then there was another "nap"

After which we just gave up and played more until Steve came home and we had dinner*.

Yes. This is what my living room looks like 90%of the time. We've covered this.

*not pictured. Fried Chicken.

Babyproofing, step one

2010-08-12T16:35:00.000-07:00

Behold:

the cocktail table. A solid block of wood on legs. It's sturdy, pretty, and it weighs 800 tons.

Also behold: the 90 degree angles that are certain to put an eye out:

(ignore the bleeding stain, please.)

My solution?

CHALK CLOTH.

Because I am a genius of style and whimsy.

I picked up 2" thick bits of foam, secured it around the table with duct tape, and set up my sewing machine....only to have it revolt.

So I called up my friend Amy, a fellow DIY enthusiast, and she called upon some even more knowledgeable ladies, and a few days later....voila!

(this is pretty much always the state of things: ever so slightly disheveled)

I added the mat from Costco and stuck in the spot made available by the re-arranging done when my parents were here (after which everyone in the house said "WHY didn't we do this sooner????") and now there is cushion on both sides for when Bunny pulls up, falls down, scoots over, etc etc.

(I may still bubble wrap the legs...I hear it comes in *colors*)

And the best part? It's chalk cloth, so you can write on it. When it's not covered in life's detritus, that is.

I even made a box in which to keep the chalk.

(tray: target a million years ago. Coasters: cotton/hemp breast pads. They've been washed. They may get tie-dyed if I get up the gumption. Chalk: Target. Box kit and paper: Paper Source.)

Gone

2010-08-11T16:06:00.000-07:00

Grandparents

2010-08-04T13:42:00.000-07:00

So my kid is huge

2010-07-18T10:17:00.000-07:00

Here's proof:

Me at about 4. (this is the best digital copy I have of this picture. EDIT - when my mom saw this picture again she said "oh, that's in Virginia Beach - when you were about 2." Regardless - I was well past 6 months.)

Bunny at 6months.

Pimping PSE8

2010-07-14T21:51:00.000-07:00

So I took this picture at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk last monday:

sooc - but I don't have the stats for it. I ran it through photoshop elements 8 and did exactly two things.

1st: I hit the "auto smart fix" in the drop down "enhance menu."

2nd: I cloned out the debris.

and voila:

Rockstar.

If only every edit were so easily made so awesome. I'm not going to watermark this. Because I trust you not to steal it. :-)

At the Beach

2010-07-14T15:26:00.000-07:00

sooc:

ss: 1/640

iso: 80

ap: f 4:8

Where do you buy your napkins? Do you have a favorite etsy seller, for example?

2010-07-13T16:39:00.000-07:00

The brick orange ones came from my stepfather (i'm not sure whom he bought them from.) The green ones are from....somewhere. The white ones are from target. They're a little small, but they do the job. I'd like to start making my own when these wear out. Etsy is actually pretty overwhelming to me unless someone shows me what I'm looking for. One thing you can't compromise on with cloth napkins: 100% cotton or linen. Nothing else will absorb nearly as well (if at all!)

confession: if it's just me I've been known to use a prefold for a napkin now that they've graduated from diaper to burp rag status.

Ask me anything

Could you do an update post about your cloth diapers? Which brands are you liking best these days? (I'm looking to switch...)

2010-06-20T17:18:00.000-07:00

I am waiting for a new type of insert to arrive in the mail and then I do have plans for an update. Quickly, though, I love our fuzzibunz, still. The grobaby (now called grovia) are too short in the rise for our long, skinny boy, so they've been retired. I've replaced them with Thirsties Duo covers (the inserts that I'm waiting on) and am also using Thirsties Fab Fitted inserts. I have a couple of Bum Genius All-In-Ones, but I'm not a huge fan because the fit is weird. But that could be because our little guy is long and skinny. The grobaby/grovia disposable inserts work with the Thirsties shells and are still the only 'sposie insert I recommend. It's not necessary to use the tape to keep them in place, but that might change as Bunny gets more mobile. When the new inserts arrive I will post a blog with pictures and more in-depth reviews.

Ask me anything

Travel really takes it out of you

2010-06-02T12:12:00.000-07:00

I must now go on a picnic

2010-05-26T14:12:00.000-07:00

via Mary Ruffle

Sometimes all it takes is a little flip

2010-05-24T10:46:00.000-07:00

I've been lamenting our small eating space for a while. Thinking that if we had room I would shift our mid-century heirloom table out into a proper dining space and bring in a cute mid-century diner table better proportioned to kitchen eating. Or put in a booth or something. The possibilities are endless.

Turns out, all I needed was to TURN THE TABLE.

I apologize for anyone who has had to maneuver around the table and blame it completely on the fact that it was moved into the kitchen last summer while I was knocked up, heavily drugged, and should have been in bed. It was moved by very nice men who put it where I said and then didn't touch it because you don't want to piss off the heavily drugged pregnant woman. Had I had my brain on correclty I would have said "can we turn it, please?" And everything would have been hunky dory and a year's worth of guests wouldn't have been so cramped.

Before pictures here. After pictures:

That's the Tripp Trapp Stokke back there against the wall. It's a trip hazard so it's out of the line of toes.

And yes, we use real linens at every meal. Don't you? (PS - for the record, when shopping for napkins or fabric with which to make you own napkins - only 100% cotton or linen will do. Synthetics just don't absorb as well, even synthetic blends. So when you're eating something really slimy (barbecue, anyone?) a not-cotton/linen piece of cloth will just smear it around. I like reddish toned napkins for barbecue. I could actually do a whole post just about napkins. I wish I were kidding.

I Was Going to Eat That!

2010-05-23T17:16:00.000-07:00

So our property has a good number of fruit bearing trees on it - all right now in various stages of bloom/ripening.

In the middle of the front yard, all by its lonesome (some would say - randomly) is a plum tree. Not to be mistaken with the pretty plum cherry trees in the back this one is gnarled and craggy and in fall it looks downright malicious. Great at halloween.

In the spring it bears more fruit than it can bear. To be repetitive and redundant.

And literal:

Can you see the break? No? It's over there on the right.
Here's a close up:

Yeah.
So how much was lost, you ask?

This much:

There are starving people all over the world and I've got a plum tree that can't manage its own bounty.

Argh. Good thing we weren't relying on that branch for much more than snack food.

Any idea what we should be on the scar to ward off infection?

Be Excellent to Each Other

2010-05-18T19:10:00.000-07:00

“Success bases our worth on a comparison with others. Excellence gauges our value by measuring us against our own potential. Success grants its rewards to the few but is the dream of the multitudes. Excellence is available to all living things but is accepted by the few. ~ Dale Carnegie

also, there's this:

http://blog.wylie-merrick.com/2010/05/do-i-know-you.html

about building a web presence so people know I have author-with-a-cult-following aspirations.

Would a facebook fan page be ridiculousand frivolous and vain? Do I care?

This is practically a moot point, though. I barely have the time and energy to shower regularly, much less write.

Sigh.

For the record, I'll take excellence, please.

Evil Cat take two

2010-05-12T22:43:00.000-07:00

Before:

And then a little bit of sharpening, a little blurring, some spot healing, some dodging and burning and a bit of desaturation...and then a crop and some rounded edges later and voila!

I'm not in love with it, but I don't hate it either and it's a nice example of dodge (the wings) and burn (the cat) can do.

But remember folks - if your pictures look like such crap that you have to spend more than a few minutes of post-processing to get them to a state of being presentable (and you're not either learning a new program or playing around to see what happens) LEARN TO TAKE BETTER PHOTOS.

The End.

sometimes people think cats are evil

2010-05-12T10:37:00.000-07:00

ss: 1/500

f4.6

iso: 800

focal length: 16.1mm

(tomorrow I'm photoshopping because this picture has all kinds of potential.)

say it, sista

2010-05-11T17:40:00.000-07:00

Rebecca Woolf, 5 minutes in. Speaking Truth.

Censoring Your Blog

...and peace.

Respect the Alone Hat

2010-05-06T18:02:00.000-07:00

When I have on my Alone Hat I can't hear or see you.

Make your own hat. Shut out the world for a bit and rediscover who you really are. (Or fold laundry in peace.)

Yet another reason to love Denise Roy.

ps - love my photoshop job? lasso, plus background layer paint plus - of course - vignette and rounded edges.)

The way to win readers and influence menus

2010-05-06T16:54:00.000-07:00

She opens beautifully with "I love Vegetables....Call me a leaf geek if you must....I simply want to spread my enthusiasm through recipes rather than through telling you You Should, as so many magazines and medical studies to these days."

Ask and you shall receive. I ranted about the mean magazine and the library then pinged me with this gem. Chock full of comfort food (grilled artichokes) and things you'd never thought of trying before (pickled brussel sprouts) and cheerfully illustrated and described...I must add this one to my collection.

Bonus - she lives in Berkeley. Think we could be friends?

So that thing...

2010-05-03T18:53:00.000-07:00

in my front yard that I didn't know what it was?

PEONY!

An Open Letter to Angry Vegans

2010-05-02T22:22:00.000-07:00

Dear Stupid Magazine:

I picked you up off the shelf to read for 3 reasons:

1) We get a farm box every other friday from our CSA and I am getting tired of making the same dozen recipes for each seasonal offering. Your cover stories of new tapas and eggless brunches seemed like it would help with that.

2) My son likely has a minor milk allergy, so I'm going to cut back heavily on my dairy and that's like learning a whole new language for me so it must be done in minor steps. Again - I was encouraged by your cover.

3) The coffee taste test cover story looked very interesting as I have an unhealthy interest in coffee.

I've just read it cover to cover and I'm more incensed than the last time I read The Atlantic cover to cover. Here's why:
1) I enjoy my animals and their by-products. I buy everything as local as possible (even when it's more expensive and means I have to buy less of other things) and as humanely as possible. Taking a not-meat ingredient and making it masquerade as meat is insulting. Also - being told that "eating meat and calling yourself an environmentalist is like Donald Trump giving a dollar to a homeless man and calling himself a humanitarian" is not the way to win readers and influence the population. It's insulting and frankly it's a huge turnoff. It makes me want to go buy the Double Down and leave it on your doorstep. (The Vegan Magazine equivalent to a flaming bag of dog poo?)

2) See above. Also: Tofu does not equal eggs. Not now, not ever.

3) A half-page table with 4 words in each box is not a comprehensive taste test. Those are tasting NOTES. The next time you put something on your cover, actually cover the topic. YEESH.

So, on behalf of all the people out there who KNOW that mass-produced beef is bad for every single thing involved (including our colons,) who do their reasonable best to live as responsibly as possible, and who enjoy bacon, eggs, and toast for breakfast, I would like to quote Jon Stewart: "Go Fuck Yourself."

Thank you,

Responsible Omnivore Emily

PS- Cats should never be VEGAN. You spend all this time preaching about being nice to animals and the planet and then you go and do that to cats. Hypocrites.

(source)

I missed it...

2010-05-01T21:25:00.000-07:00

I follow a blog kept by one of the mommies on one of the boards I frequent.

To quote:

"After several ultrasounds and two CVS tests, it was confirmed that our son, Elijah, has Trisomy 13. He has several defects such as extra fingers and toes, cleft palate, no lenses (eyes), enlarged kidneys, two vessel cord, the right side of the heart appears to be larger than the left, and a few more things. Although Eli has many complications, he is both perfect and beautiful to me. He has opened up our hearts to what love truly means. We are not sure if he will make it to term or through labor. If we do get to meet him while he is still alive, it will only be for a short time. I was unsure about continuing on with this pregnancy, but I am happy I chose to do so. This pregnancy will most likely be the only time I get to spend with him during his life, every little kick makes me smile, and every week he continues to stay alive and strong is a milestone. No matter what happens, my family has been blessed."

I have followed her story and feel like she is a friend (amazing what internet can do.)

He was born just before 3pm on April 25th and passed away not quite 24 hours later. My heart breaks for Laura and her family. Because of the pace of my own life, I only just found out.

So tonight I don't mind that my left hand is (yet again) being put to sleep by my sleeping baby. I will cherish every minute with him. It's all I can do for her. And, yes, I cried. Because - and I'm misquoting Denise Roy- "I entered into the human journey. I have taken it on from the inside, not as a dispassionate observer but as one who chooses to bear another's sorrow and pain. It makes a difference for the ones who suffer and for yourself."

And because this song will always remind me of Laura's angel, I'll share it with you:

If you own an x-box...

2010-05-01T09:55:00.000-07:00

you need this game:

Scrabble + Tetris + Bees = addicting. In a good way.

(and my friend Rick made it!)

Photoshop Thursday!

2010-04-29T16:49:00.000-07:00

So here's the SOOC original: (all I can tell you is that it was shot on 400 speed film.)

And here's the after:

All I did was bump up the contrast and the saturation. Easy peasy.

Then I played and removed the color to black and white with a green tint (standard in my PSE8), added a vignette, and rounded the edges:

Still So Little

2010-04-28T13:10:00.000-07:00

An Open Letter to Denise Roy

2010-04-27T10:34:00.001-07:00

    Dear Denise,

    Can I call you Denise? We’re both adults, and after reading My Monastery is a Minivan, I feel like we’re friends.

    My son is 3 months old. 15 weeks. It’s such a short amount of time - not a full season for any sport, not a full semester, only a 3rd of the amount of time it took me to make him. And yet in that time I realized several very disturbing things. First, I am psychotic. I’ve worked with a lot of young children over the course of the past 20 (egads!) years and the one thing that every mom has ever told me is: “it’s different when they’re yours. You’re more patient.” They. LIE. After twenty years of what I considered to be “helping to raise” children I thought I had the baby thing IN THE BAG. It took ten days to knock me off that horse. Second, I am not nearly as calm and composed as I’d like. I know there are hormones, but the tears, the frustration...it’s like puberty all over again only this time it’s being triggered by an infant. These two things left me feeling very out of my depth.

    So I started to look for some guidance. If you want to lead a more calm and balanced life there is a guide for that - many, actually. I started with mommy blogs (perfect window dressing but few willing to actually post that their child had them up all night for God-knows-why and what they really want is a martini) and moved on to montessori review (I’ve studied this as education and child care training, but not as a mother) and it’s still just as dry a read as it was when I was eighteen...I watched a documentary on the Dalai Lama (I follow him on facebook as well) and that was helpful and inspirational...but he’s not a mom. He doesn’t get it.

    And then, I’m in our local children’s bookstore just browsing and I see your book. On the shelf directly below “Once Upon a Potty” is the exact word I didn’t know was missing from my life: Momfulness. I picked it up and allowed it to fall open in my hands. This is something I often do with books - allowing the universe to guide me to recipes, essays, inspiration - and it opened to the Thich Nhat Hanh prayer*. Needless to say, I purchased it.

    But I read My Monastery is a Minivan first. I’m just starting on Momfulness, and I so far I’m glad I’m reading them in this order. I needed to know more about you as a mother before I started to learn from you. Although, really, I don’t think one needs to be a mother to enjoy your stories. One just has to have a mother. One just has to have a family. On 35 separate occasions I was moved to tears, laughter, and deep contentment. I am inspired to be more present, to recognize that we are happy, to have more patience with myself and my son. Just hearing your experiences helps me find peace with mine.

    I do want to particularly address the story entitled “The Mother of Men.” For reasons too lengthy to go into here, I was (and am still, to a lesser extent) very apprehensive about raising a son. Everywhere else I looked were platitudes but you got to the heart of it: what men need is a rite of passage wherein the older men say “you are important and what you say is important.” I finished the book and immediately re-read that essay. In 13 years my husband (and our close male friends and relatives) will take our son into the Redwoods for a weekend and they will welcome him to manhood.

    Your 35 stories (and now your second book - so far, at least) has given me hope and reassurance that even though I’m not perfect, I don’t need to be. That as long as I practice compassion and mindfulness and respect - not just for my family but for myself as well, which is often harder - that it will all be ok.

    So really, I just wanted to say thank you.

*
Breathing in, I calm my body
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment,
I know this is a wonderful moment.

It came in the mail

2010-04-20T08:12:00.000-07:00

to get your very own, go here.

Garden Blogger Bloom Day

2010-04-15T11:11:00.000-07:00

Caught in the early morning light.

The first pomegranate flower bud of the season. A harbinger of *really* good things to come!

More roses.

This plant appeared between the roses and one of the bushes in the front yard. It's blooming, which means it will attract butterflies and honeybees (I hope) so I'm letting it do it's thing. I can't wait to see what it turns into. BTW - I think those ants are the ones that eat aphid poop.

Stand below the plum tree and look up. It's not a bloom, but it will be tasty!

Same thing goes for the peach tree - barely rescued from the curl this year. There is ice cream in our future!

Apple blossoms.

The sedum is in bloom - and attracting friends/bird food.

Also known as escargot.

Yum!

Crisis

2010-04-11T16:34:00.000-07:00

of Irony, that is ;-)

I want to raise a peaceful child who has balance and harmony in his life.

And on my bookshelf is a section of books dedicated to offing people in new and exciting ways- and what to do with the remains once they're...um...remainedered. Seriously - this week I'm ordering The Poisoner's Handbook.

Also - in a perfect world I'd be earning a living writing about (fictional) people who off other (fictional) people and the (still fictional) people who find them out and stop them.

So, lesson one: reality vs. fiction. Just as soon as he can talk.

Happy Sunday!

PS - one of my favorite bloggers sold her book. I'm so happy for the bitch.

Liveblogging an Experimental Day in 'Sposies

2010-04-03T11:24:00.000-07:00

Tally:
Diapers in the landfill/days spent in environmental purgatory:15
Outfits changed due to diaper failure: 3

So a few weeks ago my sister, brother-in-law, and I took Bunny into San Francisco for the day. He was wearing a shell with a flip insert and there was badness on the train. By "badness" I mean I heard the tell-tale frat-boy sounds coming from his pants and then remarked to my sister "wow, this one really smells bad!"

Well, it turns out that the inserts weren't absorbent. This isn't me bagging on flip...except that I wasn't sad that we proceeded to use the rest up that day. Unfortunately, that meant that we were without diapers and were looking at an hour-long train ride home. With a baby who hates being wet and dirty.* So we stopped into Walgreens (CVS?) and picked up these:

Yesterday I noticed that the CDs are having that lingering odor (specifically - the wetbag actually smelled when I was putting diapers into it) so it's time to strip. And since I had been putting off doing the load that was in the full wetbag, I decided that this weekend is the perfect time to use up all those 'sposies before he outgrows them and they truly go to waste.

Also, the argument I hear most frequently is how much easier 'sposies are than CDs. Specifically, that CD's are a "pain in the ass" - all that laundry and extra work! So we're going to see if today is any "less" work than a normal day in CDs. (The fact that I'm stripping them today is not normal. In fact, it's only because we have wicked hard water and I was using not-cd detergent for too long that they need to be stripped this soon. Usually it's a need that arises less frequently than once a year, to my understanding.)

7:30am: We woke up and he went from his last clean GroBaby (nighttime diapers are usually double-stuffed fuzzibunz or BumGeniuses, but we were working with depleted resources) in a Huggies and daytime clothes. Still using cloth wipes, which might be the biggest PITA because it's a spray and then wipe situation. Diaper change otherwise is the same.

8:30am: new diaper due to lots of wetness.

9am: new diaper, and he peed in the potty (we started EC this week, it's still catch and miss, but we keep offering and he keeps..um...performing.)

10:30am: new diaper and first clothing change of the day due to the #3. (Normally he's done so much drooling/spitting up that he gets a new outfit around lunch. Occasionally the edges of the cloth will become soaked and seep the the edges of his onesie - but that's happening less with the EC, and will continue to happen less as he grows into the one-size diapers.)

He's in pants because if he's going to #3 all day, I want it contained in his pants and not all over me, husband, or whatever he's sitting on.

11:45am: wakes up from power nap, eats. I wait too long after feeding him and his diaper it aready soaked so he just laughs at me when i put him on the potty. Literally. These diapers are certainly more trim then we're used to, but that's because you chose: chemicals or bulk.

1:45pm: another power nap, and before food he gets a pottytunity (success!) and a new diaper.

3:15pm: we've been outside gardening, so I bring Bunny in to check his diaper and have a pottytunity. Wet, wet. But we avoided a #3 because 1 + 2 went into the potty. these 'sposie results will be skewed. But I will say that his skin in the diaper area is an unfortunate shade of red. :-(

4:30pm: Husband changed him out of his wet diaper...it was uneventful. His skin is still red, though.

5:30pm: Singing in the rocking chair and there's that frat boy sound again. Decide it's late enough to have night-time routine (since it never ends with sleepytime anyway) so Husband cleans him up (full containment) and leaves him naked for the bath. So far, aside from the redness, I'm not seeing much of a difference in the PITA category. If we were doing prefolds (or flatfolds) then this would be loads easier...but not with the pocket/AIOs.

I should add that we got Huggies - rather than another brand- because it was they had in his size.

By 2:00pm the Sunday - more diaper changes, one leaky LEAKY wet diaper (it wasn't even very saturated, it just leaked all over his outfit), a husband who declares that while Bunny's skin has stayed fairly dry, the poops are just ALL OVER and a pain to clean off of him. They were pretty decent overnight (we stretch those changes in favor of uninterrupted sleep. He got 3 when there probably should have been two, but I heard frat boy noises and went to the logical, but incorrect, conclusion.)

VERDICT: His skin reacted quickly and unpleasantly to the 'sposies, which is enough for me to switch to CDs. I can't even imagine what many consecutive days would do to his poor heiny. Granted - the results were skewed by the many EC Catches we managed. Also - I'm now spending a solid 2 weeks in Environmental Purgatory to make up for the eternal landfill waste that I added. I'd rather do a few extra loads of laundry a week than constantly be purchasing new diapers (which require water to make - so that's a wash) and it's also nice to know that Bunny's little brother or sister will be able to use these same diapers when the time comes. Cloth Diapers = free stash for consecutive kiddos...and if they're in good shape: resale. Word.

*Most days when I change a wet/dirty diaper I sing:

They see me grun'in'
My face red
I know they're all thinkin'
I'm so wet and dirty

Look at me
I'm wet and dirty
Guess I'm just so
Wet and Dirty
I'm just so weeeet and dirrrrty

I wanna roll with the babies
But so far they all think
I'm too wet and dirty

Look at me
I'm wet and dirty
Guess I'm just so
Wet and Dirty
I'm just so weeeet and dirrrrty

More lyrics to come because it giggles me. And if anyone knows where I can find just the background music, I'm totally making a video. It'll be a parody of a parody:

Three New Things

2010-03-31T13:52:00.000-07:00

1) new little box on the right. don't be shy.

2) I've decided to refer to our house as The Bunny Ranch. This is funny to me on many levels.

3) New Camera arrived. Literally the newest version of my beloved PhD. I'm going to seriously test drive it this weekend. Stay tuned for a full review...which Olympus is not compensating me for. (Read: it will be a total gushy love-fest.)

And photo. Just 'cuz this is *supposed* to be a Wordless Wednesday post. Woops.

Bunny's First Custom Work

2010-03-26T17:25:00.000-07:00

and by that I mean custom work done for Bunny. Commissioned by Husband and I through a new friend who quilts.

I wanted something large and inviting that he can use for years and years and that we can all wrap up in on the couch on movie nights. Or scary story nights. Or when it's just plain cold.

So I dragged Husband to a great fabric shop in Los Gatos and we (mostly he) picked fabrics for what came to be dubbed the "Supermassive Black Hole." It's a song by Muse that both Amy (new friend and quilter extraordinaire) and I like.*

Dedication Patch. I swoon.

The back is this single fabric, in case Bunny goes through a Jetsons phase ;-)

Close up of the pattern. I took a few of it spread on the bed, but they didn't turn out. Trust.

Satisfied. Customer.

Shout out to Amy. Find her HERE. And maybe HERE.

*we also have this in common:

As requested: the original

2010-03-14T11:19:00.000-07:00

Dude. This is 3279 words long. They had a HUGE editing job. There are a few paragraphs of TMI in there, but I didn't get too graphic and despite what I said: I DO talk about it at parties. I don't just go there, people. I live there. A few doors down from Margaret Cho.

So here it is: written at 430am one morning in December and un-revised/edited by me:

    I’ve always known that I wanted to be a mom. My own parents divorced when I was six and while I honestly consider my mom to be one of my best friends (seriously - it’s almost freakish) I did spend my childhood dreaming of the day when I could have that nice little Norman Rockwell nuclear family. When you are nine it’s easy to believe it exists and comes easily for people. When I was twelve I was allowed to start baby-sitting for my mother’s friends. By the time I was a senior in high school I was working in the day care at a local gym and taking early childhood classes. More than half of my life has been spent in the company of the under-5 set in some form or fashion and I honestly believe that it was helping prepare me for motherhood. (Dirty diapers? Check. Colic? Check. Been barfed on? Check. Been woken in the night by a screaming infant? Check. Helped out with baking projects, science fair, recitals, and algebra homework? Check. Done the school run with the flu? Check. See? Covered.)

    I met my husband, Steve, at the end of college. He was finishing up his graduate work and we were introduced by mutual friends. Did they know that they had just introduced me to my future husband? Not at all. Did I? No. In fact, our first impressions of each other were not stellar - but a few months later my number was burning a hole in his cell phone and that made me smile. Three and a half years later - in April of 2006 - we got married on the shore of White Rock Lake in Dallas and have been happily making people nauseous ever since.

    We had long talks about what kind of family we wanted and we decided that should we encounter any problems we would skip expensive and not-always-reliable fertility treatments and adopt. That morphed on its own to a very firm belief that at least one of our children would be adopted.

    Based on the advice of our financial planner and various other trusted confidants, we waited until our first anniversary to start trying for our first child. I dutifully went to the library and picked up a worn copy of Taking Charge of Your Fertility. I bought a basal thermometer, started charting on fertilityfriend.com, and delightfully discovered that my cycles were like clockwork.

    That was March. The Friday before Labor day of 2007 I was sitting at a job site with my boss experiencing the worst headache of my life. By Monday I had a fever touching 104 and had been sent to several doctors, winding up in the ER having a spinal tap and cat-scan. The diagnosis: Viral Meningitis. I spent the next few months in and out of the hospital and barely able to move around our loft. Our attempts to start a family came to a grinding halt and we were under strict instructions to remain that way until further notice. Not that I had any desire to do much more than lie on the couch and sleep.

    By November I was feeling myself again and in December I weaned off the drugs they had me on - and we were given the green light. Which we took advantage of.

    In February I started feeling like I pulled a muscle in my groin area. Upon inspection I determined that a doctor should look at it...and then I made the mistake of googling vague descriptive phrasing and the results all screamed “CANCER!!!!” I managed to freak myself out enough that we skipped Go and went directly to the ER. It was determined to be an abscess in the muscle of my left butt cheek. I’ll spare you the details but there were more drugs, more restrictions on our sex life, and a surgery in April of ‘08 that pushed things back further.

    Finally we were cleared...again. While I never resumed charting, I had been paying attention and things were still moving like clockwork. All of that chaos in my body and my reproductive organs just kept ticking away. I celebrated my 30th birthday at a champagne bar with my friends and through my bubbly haze told everyone that after that I was cutting back because it was time for me to be a mommy.

    I feel the need to make a note here about my husband: he sets a very high bar. During all of my health issues he never left my side. He cancelled business trips, arranged to work remotely (both from home and the hospital) and took over the housework without complaint on the days when I couldn’t even bear to stand up. I am very spoiled. So when, in September of that year, he decided that he just couldn’t take working for his company any more I supported him without question. (Ok - mostly that was because he’d been so overwhelmingly wonderful, but also because the company in question had moved from “promising start-up” to “shady business” and so leaving felt like the right move.) By October is was clear that in order for him to find a fulfilling position at a company that would allow him to grow we were going to have to leave Dallas. He started flying out of state for interviews.

    It was a sick joke played on us by the universe that he managed to be out of town the same days I was ovulating. In November he was offered his current position in Santa Clara, which he started on December 1st. A brief rundown of how those weeks went: I spent Thanksgiving in Florida with my mom’s family. He spent most of December in Santa Clara working while I was in Dallas packing. We spent the week surrounding Christmas in Switzerland with his sister, her husband, and their infant. On January 1st, 2009 we board a plane in Dallas and made our final move away from all of our friends and family to San Jose.

    Through all of that my cycle never skipped or shifted. So in April my new OB decided it was time to do some preliminary fertility testing. My new colo-rectal Dr also wanted to do some scans to make sure that he knew how things were in that area. Shortly before this I decided that I was tired of waiting for my body to get with the program and we started interviewing adoption agencies. Since none of my issues were life-threatening (just inconvenient and not something you talk about at parties) none of the adoption professionals we spoke with thought they would in any way hamper our process.

    In between all of the various tests (I’ll spare you the details) we managed to have sex only once that cycle and it was far enough away from when I knew I ovulated that I completely ruled getting knocked up out for that month. A few weeks later I went in for my first Progesterone test, and then had a sonogram of my ovaries, and Steve went for his sperm analysis. I joked that it wasn’t fair - I had a whole slew of things lined up that involved needles and dye and cameras going into places where a camera really shouldn’t ever be and he got porn and a cup. He chuckled and countered with “the Playboy was old. And not in a cool vintage way, either.” This did not help his argument.

    I waited for my cycle to restart so I could schedule the next round of tests and for the first time since this whole process began it was not behaving like clockwork. Four days late, I pulled out the lone test that had been collecting dust under the sink and unwrapped it. Four minutes later I came out of the bathroom and dropped it on Steve’s desk.

    “The fuck is that?!?!?” Yes. That’s actually what I said. He looked down at the test and then up at me.

    “Two lines is a yes?” I nodded. “I knew it.” How he knew and I didn’t is beyond me. But I trust him.

    Insert hugging and crying and disbelief. I called my OB’s office: “I just took a home pregnancy test and it says that I’m pregnant but I don’t believe it.”

    “Those are pretty accurate.” Was the patient reply.

    “No. I think it’s lying to me. I want to come in and confirm it.”

    “We’ll schedule you for a few weeks from now, but go and have blood drawn and sent here. I’ll mail you the paper work.”

    “Ok. But this test is lying to me. What should I do?”

    “Take another one. We’ll see you in a few weeks.” We scheduled and I hung up. Then I called my mom, who did a dance in her office. Then I called my sister, who was teaching, and left a message. All I said was “CallmeCallmeCallme” about eighty times into her voicemail before I hung up. Then I sent her a text with the same message. When she finally called me back an eternity (ok, 5 minutes) later and I told her she started crying. Then she told her class. I heard the chorus of cheers from 20 six-year-olds and I started crying again. Steve called his parents and then we sent instant messages to his sister and her family, who are still living in Switzerland.

    I drove Steve to work and we told our best friends. Over the course of the next several weeks we had confirmation from the OB and told everyone who would listen. We joked that what was really going on was that I was incubating a Cylon - the sonogram machines had impregnated me rather than my husband. And since everyone knew a) about all of the scans for all of my conditions and b) that we’re huge nerds, they got the joke. When the first ultrasound happened, at 7 weeks and 5 days, Baby got a new nickname: Bunny. Tucked up high in my uterus with one leg flipped up in the air, we watched the heart flutter and Steve exhaled “it looks like a bunny.”

    Over the next few weeks I got steadily more sick. The name “Morning Sickness” is a cruel, cruel joke - I was sick morning, afternoon, night...basically any time I wasn’t asleep. We tried everything and I wound up spending most of my first trimester in bed or on the couch. I read a giant stack of books and magazines. I played endless hours of MarioKart and Tetris. Steve once again raised the Husband Bar and not only did he take over cooking himself dinner, doing the grocery shopping, and doing the laundry, but he arranged with his boss to work from home in the morning so that he could make sure I wasn’t going to have a really bad day before he came in. I had breakfast in bed (not so nice when breakfast won’t stay down, but I did make a point to focus on the luxury of having my english muffin brought to me to munch on while I snuggled with the cats and read...right up until I bolted to the bathroom.)

    While that did eventually subside, it was only with a regular regimen of Zofran, which I still have to take daily. As much as I hated to take drugs of any kind - hadn’t I been through enough? Why risk it? - it was the only thing that worked. And sometimes even the magic little pill wasn’t enough.

    I am lucky several ways there:

I never needed to be hospitalized for dehydration. I came close, but it never happened. I am so grateful for that.
I wasn’t working. In March we started talking about how we were settled and unpacked and while yes, we could live off of one income, we would reach our goals much faster if I was at least bringing in the grocery/gas/spending money. I started to consider what I might want to do and went to work on revising the novel that had been put on hold while our lives got crazy.
The baby was always solid and healthy. The heartbeat never wavered and every test came back with great results.
Because we told everyone from the minute we knew, I didn’t have to explain that I was so sick because I was pregnant. Which is handy when you fall off the planet for weeks at a time.
I have Steve. He is the kind of man who will tell his very baby-sick wife that she is glowing and then wave away her protestations that it is the sheen of exertion from vomiting rather than the glow of impending motherhood. And then he’ll kiss her, even if she hadn’t brushed her teeth in days. That’s love, my friends. Furthermore - he has never missed an appointment and he eagerly attended the two classes I signed us up for, where he asked intelligent questions and was genuinely curious about what was going on in my body (both with the baby and with my boobs.) I have never doubted that he will be the kind of father kids dream about.

    I went home in July to see my family and friends. It wasn’t the easiest trip - I was still nauseous most of the time - but they understood and when I couldn’t get out they came to my sister’s house and sat in the living room and watched bad tv with me.
    In late July and August our parents came out (separately) to visit us. I felt like a bad hostess, entertaining from the couch and only occasionally getting out - but one of those trips out was for our 20 week organ scan - Steve’s parents were in the room when the tech showed us Bunny’s fingers and toes and ribs...and contrary to my predictions that our ornery child would use one hand to cover the goods and the other to give us the finger, we got a clear money shot of his little man parts. The family name will continue for at least one more generation.

    The next milestone was the Gestational Diabetes test. I failed the first one, but passed the second - despite having a hellish reaction to the orange drink (orange being one of my first aversions - another cruel trick by the universe as there are no less than 3 citrus trees on our property.) Amusingly, while I don’t have GD, I do have what I’ve started calling “Gestational Vegetarianism.” Luckily, Steve likes to cook.

    My job in Dallas was with an Interior Design firm, and I have always been the girl who rearranges and redecorates when she gets bored. Couple that with a distinct desire to nest and my lack of energy was driving me batty. By September and October, however, I was able to get out and around more, which I took advantage of. Unlike July, I was now obviously pregnant. Strangers start conversations with me - most of the time the exchanges are perfunctory and cheerful. Sometimes, though, I yell across McDonald’s at someone being a moron. Seriously. Here’s how it went:

Me: “I’ll have fries and a medium drink, please.” Transaction completes, I take my cup over to the fountain to decide which drink to have with my ice. (I had a period of being faintly anemic, which is marked by a distinct craving for ice.)

Stupid creepy guy hovering next to me: “Have the passionfruit one.”

Me: “I’m allergic to passionfruit, but thanks.”

SCG: “Have the passionfruit one, it’s good for the baby!” He slinks away, probably spurred by what my sister has dubbed the Stare Of Death.

Me - watching him go: “It’s not good for the baby if I’m allergic to it, you moron!” As I’m filling my cup with coke I have two thoughts: “that felt good.” and “that was really loud and all of those people are looking at me.” The chick who gave me my fries winked at me. I felt vindicated.

    Fast forward to this past week. I went home for a week and a half to spend Thanksgiving with my family and friends. Steve flew in the night before Thanksgiving. I finally found the secret to having a good day every day (Zofran before I even lift my head off my pillow) so I was able to enjoy every minute of the trip. It is a testament to how beloved Bunny is - even from thousands of miles away - that everyone who was able to do so rearranged their schedule to make time to see us.

    A few nights into my stay I went up to bed and of course that’s when Bunny decided to wake up and be active. He is consistently ornery - kicking me right up until the minute someone wants to feel him and then he quiets like he’s sleeping, only to start right back up the minute hands are off my belly. The only exception to this is when there is a doppler involved. From the first appointment where we were supposed to hear the heartbeat right up through yesterday’s 32 week appointment, his favorite thing to do is kick the doppler.

    Anyway. That night he was particularly active and he had the hiccups. Since my sister was still awake and her husband was in the shower I climbed onto her bed and laid on my side, putting one of her hands on the spot where I felt his hiccups and her other hand on the spot where he was kicking. Or punching. Or head butting. (I often think how nice it would be to have x-ray vision so I could see which part of his little body is pushing out against my abdomen.) Her reaction was priceless. My big sister, who refers to colostrum as “The Baby’s Colostomy”, actually cried. And then she threw me a Circus themed baby shower, complete with friends I haven’t seen since before we moved, a dining room that had been transformed into a circus tent, and carnies.

    We spent a lot of our downtime watching him move under my skin. It was interesting to see what he reacts to. Stomp Live, for example, convinced me that if he wanted to badly enough, he could live up to his new nickname: “Mommy’s Little Chest Burster.”

    I’ve repeatedly stated, from about week 8, that I never want to be pregnant again. It was too hard and I can’t imagine having to go through all of that while having a toddler to care for. Since we’ve already started the adoption process once, it won’t be so alien when we start it again. I am told - also repeatedly - that the next one won’t be so bad and that it’s all worth it. I’m skeptical about the former, but wholly agree with the latter. Feeling him wiggle makes up for the bruises on my ribs, the acid-reflux, and the frequent trips to the bathroom. When he’s born - and after he’s served out his six week grounding sentence - I will forget that I spent whole seasons if not actually unconscious then at least hazy and nauseous.

    My estimated due date is January 16th, 2010. Because of that surgery I didn’t go into detail about, I’m having to have a scheduled c-section, which is currently slated for January 11, 2010. However, I started dropping last week and at yesterday’s appointment the possibility of an early baby was discussed. I’ve been saying for years that I want a baby for Christmas and I’m ready. We’re ready to have an outside baby.

Braggy McBragerton

2010-03-13T21:55:00.000-08:00

^ The mommy discussion board I frequent. It keeps me sane. It's also a safe haven for poop talk.

That's the cover of their latest bay-area issue of their magazine. Which you could procure if you knew exactly where to look.

But since that's slim...let me show you what's on page 19:

Word. My words. Well, some of my words. The original was 3,000 words long and written at 4:30 am one day during my 3rd trimester insomnia. My version includes references to chest-bursting, bed rest, an inordinate amount of morning sickness, and probably my ass (because all conversations lead back to someone's ass eventually, don't they?)

But no matter. My words. Printed. I did a happy dance and then I wanted an Amaretto Sour. But I'm currently boobing my son and not making enough to "pump and dump" so....beer and wine in small doses? Sure. But I'm keeping away from the hard stuff. At least until he's walking.

This is SO going on my resume, even though I didn't get paid. Who knows, if I ever find time to work no my novel, this little bit of non-college publishing might be what pushes me over the edge.

Follow this Link

2010-03-09T10:31:00.000-08:00

http://kellymphotography.com/slideshows/Sebastianbirth/
You'll actually have to follow another link, but it's worth it. I promise it's safe for work. Grab a tissue. The song alone makes me cry. It's particularly appropriate because Bunny had to come out a week early, rather than in his own time. Kelly did such an amazing job. Every image is perfect.

If you're expecting and considering hiring a pro to capture your moments - DO IT. It's worth every penny.

I'm also going to recommend hiring a doula - even for a scheduled c-section. Teri (http://harmonydoula.com/) helped keep us calm while we were waiting and did some visualization while they "massaged" my belly after the operation (you know it's gonna hurt when the nurse says "ok, hit your morphine button.) But most importantly - she taught us how to breast feed. Some of those images (my absolute favorites) are in the slideshow.

Even more importantly - Teri and Kelly are now lifelong friends of our family.

So go click on that link and see us meet our son.

Baby Got Back (or: How Cloth Diapering is Working Out For Us)

2010-03-03T18:44:00.000-08:00

(Bunny in a bummi cover)

Since you asked. All of you. At least once, even if it wasn't always out loud.

In fact, once people found out that we were planning to cloth diaper from the start (and with the exception of in-hospital and a few days waiting for his umbilical cord to fall of - we did) that was more a topic of conversation than almost anything else (wait until we start talking schooling, people.)

A sample of remarks:

"Aren't you worried about sticking the baby in the belly with the diaper pin?"

"Won't that stink?"

"That's so cool!"

"Where do I buy you rubber pants?"

"Good luck with that."

"You say that now."

"It's worth clogging landfills for me to not have to deal with poop."

"I want/wanted to try that. But disposables are just so much easier."

Right.

So I'm not going to try to sell you on cloth diapers. Because, really. You're either on the bus, or you're off the bus. (I may try to convert you to EC when we get that going. But we're not there, yet.)

So. Here's how it's working out: it is awesome.

Part of our stash. The top two on the left are fitted all-in-ones that are too big for him, but which I picked up for a song. The solids are fuzzibunz (except the blue, that's a rogue bumgenius,) the patterns on the right are GroBaby and the inserts for the GroBaby are those 4 white folded pieces up there. Those two are my favorite so far. But Bunny is young.

More (but still not all) of our stash - on the left are the inserts for the fuzzibunz and the patterns are bummi covers and then on the right are the pre-folds. I'm not sure we'll keep using the prefolds when he outgrows those covers. I'd rather stuff the diapers as they come out of the dryer or snap in new inserts than try to fold and hook a pre-fold onto a squirmy infant - especially once he's mobile and constantly on the brink of death.

Our wipe/etc drawer. Wipes on the left, a couple of bottle of bumgenius spray, some nose spray, snappis for the prefolds, a gumdrop, and some Earth Mama Angel Baby products, and extra elastic for the fuzzibunz. (They have fabulous leg gussets so you can make sure the leg is tight enough - which is nice if you're child is long and skinny like ours.)

So here's how it works: Bunny lets us know he's wet/soiled in the usual way (and generally about 1 second after it's happened) and we head to the changing station in the bathroom*. We whip off the old diaper and drop it into the handy fuzzibunz bag that keeps all the yucky smells inside (we also have a bin liner and I'm not as big a fan. I'm thinking another fb bag is in our future because...) and has a handy zipper on the bottom: time for laundry, simply unzip, dump, and go. Then we pull open the drawer, pop out the spray and a wipe, spray his bum, wipe his bum, drop wipe into the same bag the diaper went into, and put on a new diaper. When we're out it's the same story, but with a smaller bag. And when I travel to Seattle in May I'll use flushable/compostable inserts.

The difference from disposable? I do more laundry (although as our stash grows and as his output slows down I'll do less and less - also there will be EC, but more on that later.) And his butt is cuter. Also - there's bulk, but that's the trade for not having chemicals against his skin. The other trades are a lack of diaper rash, and a noticeable lack of what they referred to in our parenting classes as "number 3."** (the exception to this happened when Bunny was about 2 weeks old. He'd been constipated all day, poor guy, and Husband had him settled on his lap, wiggling his legs and cooing and then there was poop leakage onto Husband's jeans...but I don't blame the diapers for that one. If you were laying on your back having your constipation worked out by having your legs waved around...there'd be a big mess, wouldn't there?)

If you google "cloth diapers" you'll find that the possibilities are endless. But that's what we use (the bummis, in all honesty, were given to us to test - but not because they read my fabulous blog. Because I begged them to pick me. But I haven't reported to them, so I won't report to you except to say that my Husband prefers that method so far. For the daytime at least.)

If you've got more questions, I'm happy to answer. But like I said - you're either on the bus or you're off the bus.

Happy Hump Day!

* I put it there for two reasons: first the countertop is the perfect height/size. Second - if all potty-related activity always takes place in the bathroom, then the bathroom is never a big mystical room in which to play. In theory, at least.

**

C'mon Warm Weather!

2010-03-03T09:05:00.000-08:00

Oy to the VEY

2010-02-28T20:32:00.000-08:00

It's been a week, let me tell you. Last Sunday - baby massage excellence, much sleepiness.

Monday - 6 week growth spurt kicks in - right on schedule. (YAY) This includes cluster feeding, restless sleep, general crankiness. Mama settles in to watch 30 Rock, marathon-style, on Netflix Streaming.

Tuesday - more growth spurt. More 30 Rock.

Wednesday - see above. 30 second to post blog while feeding child. Mama feels like rock star.

Sometime Wednesday night - Mama starts to feel achy...and her boobs hurt (although from hour-long nursing sessions that starts as soon as they've ended, there could be a reason) and then...FEVER. HIGH FEVER. And hard, red lumps on the right boobie. More achiness. As Bridget Jones said so eloquently: "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." Mastitis. Again. Insert mass amounts of ibuprofen.

Thursday- combine Monday, plus Tuesday, plus Wednesday night. Jealous yet?

Friday - even more of the same, but I'm out of 30 Rock. So I watch a trailer by Chris Rock called Good Hair* and the second disc of the first season of Mad Men.

Yesterday - more of the same, but with husband home there is someone to hold the Rabid Bunny while Mama runs some errands. But around that there was more sitting on the couch boobing my son and watching Mondovino**.

And today - as I am feeling better (but Rabid Bunny is STILL crankypants and overly tired), we had infant massage. An invention so awesomesauce it gets its own blog. Don't let me forget.

Sad realization, folks. That picture from Wednesday? It was taken last Sunday at baby massage. With my Phd. Let me refresh your memory so we can do a side by side comparison:

Yeah. So that was the old Olympus Stylus that has been so good to me.

And this is with my phone today. Same spot on the floor. More sun outside, but the same interior lighting. (no flash on either shot)

The picture quality is the same, if not better, on my freaking phone. I've been increasingly dissatisfied with the quality of my PhD. It's a 7.1megapixel Olypmus Stylus 770sw.

Don't get me wrong, I pink puffy heart this camera. It's been to 2 countries and on many, many other trips with me. It shoots 30 minutes of video, it goes in the pool, on the jet skis. I can drop it. I can give it to toddlers.

But it's had its day in the sun and mama is jonesing for a new toy. What's more, I've been saving my allowance (yes, we get allowances so we can by things we need but don't really need) so I can afford the new one.

(source)

It does all of the above, but the bonus: HD video and 14 megapixels. It's in my amazon cart for pre-order.

It will do much more than I want or need it to do, but what it will do for me is be a diaper-bag camera of awesomeness that will take pictures I don't immediately need to photoshop into not sucking, and therefore keep all of the grandparents in a near-constant supply of pictures.

And maybe when things calm down around here I can get in some quality time with the Nikon film, because we miss each other.

Here's hoping everyone's Monday feels like the last day of school 30 seconds after the bell rings.

*

**