Santa Baby

This weekend Violet had her first visit with Santa. We didn't "take" her to go see Santa, it was just sort of the by-product of a local commercial plaza promotion. For some reason, they wanted you to come with your kid, decorate a Christmas stocking, and collect stocking stuffers from the stores in the plaza. All for free! You also got a picture with Santa in the bargain. I wish I could post a picture here, but a) they used Polaroids, and b) dumb me forgot my camera. For the record, he was a cute grandpa-y Santa who made a real effort to talk to each kid. Kudos to him for coming out in a Santa suit when it was, like, 1000 degrees out!

Here is how his conversation with Violet went:

Santa: Well hello! Violet, that's a pretty name! What would you like for Christmas?

Violet: A bicycle. (I coached her to say, "tricycle," but whatever)

Santa: Oh, a bicycle! How nice! Are you old enough to ride a bicycle with training wheels?

Violet: Yep. (Not remotely true.)

Santa: Wow, what a big girl! Is there anything else you can think of that you would like me to bring you for Christmas?

Violet: Thinking for a minute. A cheese-stick? (It was lunchtime)

Santa: ??? Oh, okay, a cheese-stick, that would be interesting! Well, maybe you could write me a letter telling me what you want for Christmas and put it in the mail. Do you think you could do that?

Violet: Nodding head. "R."

Fall things

This year we got pumpkins from the pumpkin patch, so I thought we'd do a "family" display. We decorated our pumpkins with foam stickers instead of the whole messy carving thing. It was actually fun! (I have low expectations for this sort of thing.) Violet really enjoyed using the princess-themed ones I got for her and didn't want to stop stick-ing. Of course, after she was done with hers and Wright's, she tried to overtake mine. :p~ Sam even got into the spirit and was creative with his Turban squash, so that was cool.

We were also planning to go to Julian with Sam's mom this past weekend, but that didn't really work out. Apparently, the U-pick apples were all gone, and then we had some scheduling issues. So, Violet's apples dress has yet to be worn. Here's what I've done to this child by making her wear specific outfits for every occasion:

Me: Violet, we're going to Disneyland tomorrow for your birthday! Won't that be exciting?!

Violet: NO! I don't WANT to go to Disneyland, I wanna go pick apples! (image embarassingly bratty tone)

Me: Huh? Violet, I'm really sorry, but all the apples are all gone, and we'll just have to go another time.

Violet: But mom, it matches my apples dress!

I have created a monster.

Eau de _____

For some reason living at my parents' house involves quite a bit of smell-mystery-solving. I'm not sure why this is...maybe it has something to do with it being a 30+ year old house where older folks AND small children reside. Or, my dad. Heheh. No seriously, as I have a somewhat sensitive nose, I generally can't rest until I've found and eradicated the source. Otherwise. I. Die. Here's a few recent cases:

Q: What is that god-awful pee-filled-diaper-that's-been-sitting-in-a-hot-car-for-a-week stank in the hall bathroom? Is it a diaper someone stashed in the wall? Is it faulty plumbing? Is it my dad?
A: Nada, it's a cretin-brained opossum who decided to amble into the basement and die directly underneath the bathroom. Eeew! This odor was so pervasive, it remained for weeks after my dad and Sam removed the bastard and buried him. Apparently some hair fell off his carcass when they picked him up, and long after it was gone we had to endure a game-y wet animal odor every time we ran the shower. Deees-gusting.

Setting: playing with Violet on the living room floor
Q: Why does it smell like nasty feet? Did Violet fart?
A: It's my dad's feet.

Setting: playing with Violet in her playroom on the porch
Q: Dear God, can I smell my dad's feet all the way out here?
A: Nope, it's Violet's feet. She took off her $9.99 Target no-animals-were-killed-in-the-making-of-these shoes, thus releasing a waft ranker than a Parisian cheese shop.

Q: Why does Violet suck her thumb standing next to me and PINCH MY ARM!!
A: This is not a smell question, but it makes it dang hard TO TYPE!! *swat* *swat*

Q: Why does it smell poopy yet chemical-y outside? Did Sam just take an excrement-filled diaper out to the trash?
A: The neighbor's propane tank burst a pipe, filling the air with a difficult to identify sewage-ish/gas od-our. Side effect of harmful air was one heck of a headache for us all.

Q: Why does this mysteriously wet microphone on Violet's new keyboard reek like nap-breath?
A: When Violet sings into her microphone (Song of choice is "We Are Awana Cubbies"), she puts it in her mouth. I wonder if it's harmful for her to suck on a recently Clorox-wiped microphone?

Q: Do I smell popcorn? Did Sam make popcorn? Why does the baby smell like popcorn?
A: The baby pooped. Oddly, the resulting odor calls to mind butter, salt, and corn product.

Q: Why do I sense a homeless/unbathed personage in the near vicinity? Am I also detecting mildew? Is it my Dad? Did he funk up his chair so bad that it smells even when he's not there? Why do I also smell when the door to parents' room is open?
A: This one was a toughie. Source of the problem turned out to be *deep breath* for some reason the hot water was off on my mom's washing machine, and she couldn't turn the spigot, so she was washing everything on cold. Cold water does not kill bacteria and such, so all the bedding/towels/clothes were not getting cleaner AND causing all to get mildew-y-ish and yuck. So, I had Sam turn the spigot on and now everything has gotten clean and is now fresh and said odor has disappeared. Whew.

Q: This is not a smell question, but why the FRICK does Baby Wright (BW) kick the crap out of my stomach everytime we side nurse in bed? He is laying there basically trying to climb up AND push away, all the while attached at the boob. Did I mention this makes me feel violent at 3am?
A: I have no earthly idea. The insult is twofold; firstly, we have the stomach area which, if I thought was damaged after Violet (BW: Hah!), contains stomach muscles split in half 2 inches apart covered by skin stretched to heck (my OBGYN: The collagen will not recover!) thanks to the BEHEMOTH that is BW. I have accepted the first, but Secondly, we have the incessant kicking that goes on while BW tiltshis head back and tries to see if he can get my nipple to reach 9 inches. Gah! Urgh.

Sorry for whipping out the B and N words.

Undies!!!

Okay, I am so excited. I made my first undies this weekend. Violet needed new underwear as we are stepping up the potty-thing (i.e. forcing it because she's stubborn as mud), and I didn't feel like going to Target and paying the for themwhen I could make them for free. It seems like such a silly thing, but for some reason I am more proud of these than most things I make! It feels good to sew something so practical and useful, and I did it all with scraps I had on hand. (click on picture for full-size undies fantastic-ness)



While I'm at it, here's the Cinderella dress I made for her birthday/Halloween. We are going to Disneyland to celebrate her 3rd birthday next week, so this is what she will wear. I also bought a crown and wand from the Disney Store, but I'm waiting to give those to her until the morning of. I will post afterwards with her full regalia, but meanwhile she's been rocking this dress non-stop!





Those on Facebook have already seen this one, but I thought I'd post it anyway. It's a kitties Halloween skirt I made for our trip to the pumpkin patch last weekend. The thing is beyond poufy when she's not leaning against a random person's truck.



You may be wondering how I got all this sewing done when my kids are so bad. The answer is: 10 minutes at a time. Also, for some reason they're way better about playing in the enclosed porch while I sew than playing by themselves while I run and clean the bathroom or whatever.

Red eyes. Foggy brain.

I have so many things to say, and yet I don't write. Sometimes it's just too hard to put my thoughts into words, and then my words into letters and sentences in the--literally--five minutes at a time that my kids are giving me these days.

Ugh, the kids. Seriously.

Wright: Wakes up every hour. Takes minimal naps. Makes a screaming noise if you're not holding him. Grabs at everything you're doing and puts your back out if you are holding him.

Violet: Wants me to hold her. Play with her. Gets up for an hour after I put her down for her nap/to sleep at night. Water. Song. Books. Potty. Ugh. Has sibling jealousy.

Update on the small group situation: it's going well! We decided to leave Violet with my mom every week, which has helped me enormously. Wright is doing super well sitting on my lap, and I'm enjoying getting to know different people with various ages and backgrounds. Sometimes I get so pissy and tired that I look at everything through negative glasses, and I think this was one of those cases.

Sam's mom is coming to visit this next week, and we are going up to Julian with her to pick apples. I have--OF COURSE--taken it upon myself to make Violet a special trip-to-Julian-with-Grammy apples dress. Why do I do this to myself? I am a crazy craft person with no time. Need. Crafts. To. Breathe. Anyway, if this goes well we might add it to our Fall traditions.

I can't think of anything else to write about. Question: Is extreme lack of sleep anything like being impaired by drugs? I am seriously concerned about my driving.

It's my birthday, yay.

Here I am at 12:30am typing because I couldn't sleep, ugh. It's a real travesty when every moment of shut-eye is sooo precious (due to Baby Butthead's mommy addiction), yet your body will not respond and TAKE ADVANTAGE. Hey body, this is going to suck tomorrow!! Body: screw you, let's think and worry ad nauseum instead!

I am not going to sugar coat this, I am not having a good day/night/early morning (whatever). We had our first "study" small group tonight, and Sam called me from work a couple of hours before to let me know that he would meet me there so he could work late.

??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sure honey! I'll just make a side dish and corral a high-energy toddler + non-sleeping, needs-constant-holding infant all by myself and still make it to group on time! Awesome! The only way I accomplished this was to have my mom watch Violet and Wright for pretty much 3 hours while I cooked, cleaned up, and got us all ready, etc. I really hate taking advantage of her like that. As grateful as I am, it makes me feel like I can't actually manage my own life.

Then we get there and...it's just hard to do a study with little kids. I've got to juggle papers and Wright on my lap, and half my attention is on Violet in the other room, even though she's being good--how is that fun? Hence why I was not sure it was a good idea for us right now. I'm doing it for Sam because he basically held a shotgun to my head and said I owed him one. I'm thinking at the end of this he owes me a coverstitch machine, hah!

I know I am such a complainer. In the grand scheme of things this is so inconsequential. I hate being so whiny (ugh, now I feel worse).

Anyway, I am 28 today. I get to spend my birthday watching the children while Sam goes to work on stuff at our old house so we can get ready to rent it. Yay.

OOh, I thought of something happy! The Office premier was tonight and there was such a GOOD Pam and Jim thing that went on (y'know, with a ring), and also they made out a bunch, and, yay, romance always cheers me up. Glad I thought of that.

On that note I'm going to try to go back to bed.

Twenty pound blondie on my lap

Ugh, I used to type with Violet on my lap pinching me, now I type with Wright in the Boppy. He is currently flailing around erratically, arching his back as if to stare at the wall--which as far as I can tell is completely blank, but hey, maybe kids really do see the supernatural--and, oh yay, dropping his paci in the dark so I have to get up and turn the light on to see it. Sigh, this one.

Kid, where's your dang paci??

Aha, I found it. Now, seriously, go to sleep, child.

Speaking of "dang," last week I handed Violet her sandwich bag of Cheerios while we were in the car and said, "here's your dang Cheerios." She responded, "no! I don't want my dang Cheerios!" I have taught my child to Christian-swear.

We have been busybusybusy packing up all of our copious cray-ap to a) move to my parents, b) move to our storage unit, or c) get rid of. This is just as complicated as it sounds, that is, provided it sounds complicated to you (you in a general sense). It is also disgustingly sweaty and filled with the sounds of screaming and/or crying and/or whining. Note to self: never move in the Summer, and if possible, avoid having a nursing baby and whiny toddler next time. I'm sure moving is never easy for anyone, but it would sure help me if I didn't have to pause every 5 minutes or so to hold the baby. Such is life, though.

I packed up my books today, which was only difficult mentally. I NEED my books, they are my friends!! As soon as I multiply 35 x 20, I will tell you how many books I had on that particular shelf. Hmm. Okay, only 700! I did save one box to go to my parents, so if you currently utilize my library, it has since shrunk to about 50-ish. A best-of collection, if you will. I am consoling myself with the knowledge that plenty of books come out in the next year while we are there, and I always have the library. I will have plenty of reading material.

I got a little taste of things to come when we went over to drop a bunch of stuff off at my parents this afternoon. I step inside, and it REEKS. I immediately complain loudly and start looking for the source of the smell, while Sam, who had already been inside a couple times whispers in my ear, "I just thought it was maybe your dad." ????????? Seriously, people, this was like dirty-diaper-sitting-in-a-hot-car-all-day nasty, not I-have-smelly-genes off-gassing. We ransacked the house looking for the culprit, and all we could isolate was the hall bathroom toilet/shower-ish area, so we are hoping it's not a faulty plumbing issue. We will figure it out though, and I told Sam that if something bothers him there, he needs to either TELL ME or try to fix it himself. We are not gonna last 6-12 months there if we are just constantly sucking everything up, sheesh.

In slightly more yay news, I am off to watch Gossip Girl right now; so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!