...cooking dinner whilst enduring the nostril-raping odor of your dad's nearby feet. It smells like week-old salami left out in an Egyptian sewer. He hath devised a two-pronged attack so that when you first step through the front door, you pass directly over his abandoned shoes. Synthetic, non-breathing shoes + no socks = unprecedented & unnatural chemical compositions. Then, before you realize you should not be breathing anymore (coma imminent!), you must walk by the other half of the team: his actual bare feet, left out to air in the closed-window environs of the living room.
It is insidious. I am three rooms away, and I can still memory-smell it, like it has left airborne molecules in my nose.
And now I must go make tri-tip steak and baked potatoes, armed only with minced garlic and one lone Mackintosh Apple scented Yankee Candle. I shall put the candle at the edge of the counter closest to the living room, to ward off as much as I can...
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
Blue stuff
A few weeks ago I checked out The Apron Book from the library, and that's when my mom and I went a little crazy. Okay, my mom went a little crazy. I just made this one apron as a Christmas present for my mother-in-law (and gave her a copy of the book as well). My mom whipped up like 7 aprons from various patterns as Christmas gifts, two of which she sent off to Ireland for a couple of our distant cousins. My mom! Seriously, she rocks. Anyway, what a find the book was. It is a collection of stories, vintage aprons (and their stories), and even a couple apron patterns, all of which celebrate the art of homemaking and mothering. I read through this book in between child-rearing one evening, and at the end I felt high on life and proud of my choices. I also felt inspired to be better. I urge any fellow mom to check it out.
In the spirit of blue Christmas presents, I also managed to squeeze in this custom dress for my niece, Lily. Thank you so much to Shari, who created the AWESOME sew-in tags and hanging tag for me. I just ironed the sew-in image onto twill tape, and I'm pretty happy with the result. You can't really see it that well in these pics, sorry--my camera is so much classier than I am. :p~ Also, the dress is not bumpy, that's just the leggings underneath.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Violet-ness
Just when we are feeling too serious, Violet knows exactly what to say to lighten the mood. Here are a few of her recent gems:
---
Sam farts.
V: Daddy, do you have to go potty?
---
Standing while I wipe her after she goes number 2.
V: Mommy, you are doing such a good job wiping my bottom! I'm really proud of you!
---
V: Can I watch somethin'?
Me: Okay, what do you want to watch?
V: I wanna watch KPBS Kids!
---
Every day.
V: Can I do my Avalynt calendar, pleeease? (Avalyn + Advent= Her Trader Joe's chocolate "Avalynt" calendar.)
---
Me: No, no Baby Wright, get Violet's shoe out of your mouth, eew!
Wright continues to eat the shoe.
V: Baby Wright, that's 1! (As in 1-2-3 Magic.)
---
My favorite is when she messes up opposites and quantities...she always has worthy intentions, but they just come out wrong:
---
Flicking a stray Kix out of her carseat.
Me: Violet, honey, don't do that. You need to pick that up.
V: That was just a Kick, Mommy. I don't want a Kick in my carseat.
Me: Kix. We say Kix whether it's one Kix or lots of Kix.
V: No, that was a Kick. I have Kix in my cereal. Heheh, Mommy, you're silly! (Apparently my English degree means nothing to her.)
---
Sucking thumb and possibly whining.
V: Mommy, I want you to hold me for big minutes. (As opposed to "for a little bit" or "for a few minutes".)
---
Me: Violet, would you like some more milk?
Pushing her cup towards me.
V: Yeah, I'd like a bit much.
---
---
Sam farts.
V: Daddy, do you have to go potty?
---
Standing while I wipe her after she goes number 2.
V: Mommy, you are doing such a good job wiping my bottom! I'm really proud of you!
---
V: Can I watch somethin'?
Me: Okay, what do you want to watch?
V: I wanna watch KPBS Kids!
---
Every day.
V: Can I do my Avalynt calendar, pleeease? (Avalyn + Advent= Her Trader Joe's chocolate "Avalynt" calendar.)
---
Me: No, no Baby Wright, get Violet's shoe out of your mouth, eew!
Wright continues to eat the shoe.
V: Baby Wright, that's 1! (As in 1-2-3 Magic.)
---
My favorite is when she messes up opposites and quantities...she always has worthy intentions, but they just come out wrong:
---
Flicking a stray Kix out of her carseat.
Me: Violet, honey, don't do that. You need to pick that up.
V: That was just a Kick, Mommy. I don't want a Kick in my carseat.
Me: Kix. We say Kix whether it's one Kix or lots of Kix.
V: No, that was a Kick. I have Kix in my cereal. Heheh, Mommy, you're silly! (Apparently my English degree means nothing to her.)
---
Sucking thumb and possibly whining.
V: Mommy, I want you to hold me for big minutes. (As opposed to "for a little bit" or "for a few minutes".)
---
Me: Violet, would you like some more milk?
Pushing her cup towards me.
V: Yeah, I'd like a bit much.
---
Monday, December 22, 2008
...
Life has been ridiculous around here lately. The holidays were/are a whirlwind of cleaning, shopping, making, cooking, etc., and it seems like neither my mom or I have been able to catch our breaths. Not to mention, Poophead I and Poophead II.
Ugh.
Seriously. My two evil children. Between the two of them, I have figured out that each day I actually fall further behind in my to do list. I don't quite understand how it happens over and over, but each day I basically run around getting snacks, holding Wright, taking potty, nursing Wright, calming tantrums, holding Wright, dressing Violet, finding something for Violet, more Wright duty...and so on. If I hoped to cross 3 things off my list, I actually only get to do 1, and so the next day it is 4, and I only get to 1 or even 0, compound that, blah, blah.
And then I think, I really want to have another baby to take up all my time and start this all over again???
No, I don't, I can't. This is seriously awful. Baby Wright, can you please go back to taking decent naps? How about getting through the early evening w/o waking up 1 billion times, huh? Cut me some slack, here.
All day long I dream about...reading...sewing...cooking...watching a show of my own...doing something without my kids. I look at single people with envy. They get to come home after work and have hours and hours to themselves. HOURS! They get to take baths. They go shopping alone with time to think, and not feel like they have to rush because their kids a) incredibly distracting and/or bad, or b) are inconveniencing someone else.
I don't think I'm cut out to have lots of children. I'm too selfish...
Okay, I just had to go put Wright back to sleep. Here is his schedule so far tonight:
8:45 Asleep
9:21 Awake
10:35 Awake
11:52 Awake (dude! He made it 1.5 hours! <---I actually thought this to myself)
1:00 Awake
And so on and so forth. He will go longer stretches once I'm in bed, but sheesh. Is it any wonder I'm so unproductive (for instance: this blog)? Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself for letting Violet watch so much Dora. I mean, I'm basically brain-dead, and, hey, it's educational!
I have so many other, less-whiny, blog posts in my head. Maybe when I get the chance--hah!--I will write them.
Ugh.
Seriously. My two evil children. Between the two of them, I have figured out that each day I actually fall further behind in my to do list. I don't quite understand how it happens over and over, but each day I basically run around getting snacks, holding Wright, taking potty, nursing Wright, calming tantrums, holding Wright, dressing Violet, finding something for Violet, more Wright duty...and so on. If I hoped to cross 3 things off my list, I actually only get to do 1, and so the next day it is 4, and I only get to 1 or even 0, compound that, blah, blah.
And then I think, I really want to have another baby to take up all my time and start this all over again???
No, I don't, I can't. This is seriously awful. Baby Wright, can you please go back to taking decent naps? How about getting through the early evening w/o waking up 1 billion times, huh? Cut me some slack, here.
All day long I dream about...reading...sewing...cooking...watching a show of my own...doing something without my kids. I look at single people with envy. They get to come home after work and have hours and hours to themselves. HOURS! They get to take baths. They go shopping alone with time to think, and not feel like they have to rush because their kids a) incredibly distracting and/or bad, or b) are inconveniencing someone else.
I don't think I'm cut out to have lots of children. I'm too selfish...
Okay, I just had to go put Wright back to sleep. Here is his schedule so far tonight:
8:45 Asleep
9:21 Awake
10:35 Awake
11:52 Awake (dude! He made it 1.5 hours! <---I actually thought this to myself)
1:00 Awake
And so on and so forth. He will go longer stretches once I'm in bed, but sheesh. Is it any wonder I'm so unproductive (for instance: this blog)? Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself for letting Violet watch so much Dora. I mean, I'm basically brain-dead, and, hey, it's educational!
I have so many other, less-whiny, blog posts in my head. Maybe when I get the chance--hah!--I will write them.
Monday, November 17, 2008
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."
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."
Friday, October 31, 2008
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.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
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.
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.
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