Jul 26, 2017 | In a People House, Love & Marriage, Uncategorized |
I spent a good portion of my day thinking I didn’t have anything interesting to report from the weekend. Then I remembered that I made a wooden bowl which isn’t an every day occurrence. You’d think that would have been something in the forefront of my mind since I’ve been eating Skittles out of it all day.
For many years now I’ve been trying to get Christopher into a hobby that isn’t reading or drumming. I was specifically steering him in the direction of woodworking. I have a list several miles long of things I’d like built and he needed a hobby. It’s a win win for everyone. He finally agreed to try it and he’s fallen for it hook, line and sinker. Or saw, hammer and screws as the case may be. He’s bought the tools, signed up for classes and made endless trips to Home Depot. He signed us for a wooden bowl making class at a wood shop in town. He never complains about waiting for me while I shop at the craft store so I was happy to do something he wanted.
I’ve done some woodworking but not for years. Grandpa and I made Aaron a wooden fort with removable roof for his plastic cowboys and indians and two little wooden tanks. They remain the pinnacle of my (short) wood career. I had never used a lathe, a drill press or the plethora of other tools Joe the instructor taught us. It was a very new experience.
I’m just going to throw it out there that I’m really proud of myself for not crying during the entire three hours. The last time Christopher and I did a class together was when we got our concealed carry license at Fort Lee. I was too weak to pull the trigger so I held up the entire class. It was mortifying. I may have shed a few tears behind my safety glasses. I truly believed my bowl was going to be a disaster but Joe came by frequently with encouragement and fixed my many mistakes. Every time my tool hit the machine it made a terrible sound. I lost count of the times it made that sound. Eventually people stopped wondering who wasn’t using their tool properly because it was always me.
Before. Obviously.
Christopher’s is on the left and mine the right. We were supposed to be making matching bowls but Christopher went rogue. His bowl is like Cinderella at the ball and mine is the plain stepsister.
In other recent news, Annabelle has a new fascination with trash. Our kitchen windows overlook the backyard and she likes to look for “treasures” while she eats then go out in the yard to pick it up. This week she’s brought in a leaf, a crumpled up flier and a random bits of plastic. She tells me she “lubs them all so much and they’re my faborites.” Today she asked me to take a picture of her with the sign the yard man put up.
The first of our tomatoes are red! One was destroyed by a bug but the other was perfect. I split a cherry tomato in thirds so we could all try it. We all got a piece the size of an M&M. We have SO many green tomatoes that will turn if it ever stops raining. I have big plans to make some into sauce and save it for the winter. I hope I can approach canning with the same enthusiasm Christopher approaches a package of new saw blades or AB when she sees a discarded water bottle.
Mar 31, 2017 | In a People House, Uncategorized |
I just finished taping snowflakes to the ceiling in preparation for AB’s Frozen birthday party tomorrow. I’m feeling surprisingly (see also: unusually/questionably) calm. Before most parties I’m running around like a maniac because the cake isn’t perfectly frosted or I start crying because I have to mix two different styles of paper plates AND NOW THE PARTY IS RUINED.
Dramatic and overly-perfectionist, party of one.
I’m not holding my breath. There’s still time for this whole operation to head south fast.
I’m sure Annabelle would enjoy a small cake and celebration with just the three of us and maybe someday that’s how we’ll celebrate, but not this year. She has looked forward to her Frozen party for MONTHS. She sets up birthday parties for all her stuffed animals and dolls, complete with cake, candles, songs and gifts every single day. If I really aged each time she sang me Happy Birthday I’d be 112. She lives for birthday parties. When the doctor told me she was too young for asthma testing because “she’d have to follow directions and blow out candles on the screen” I wanted to tell him she’s been training to blow out candles for half her life.
As her birthday gift we’ve invited two very special guests over. Elsa and Anna will be appearing live and in person at our door at 9:30. Annabelle loved when she meet them in Texas but a few weeks ago I took her to a free princess meet and greet at the mall put on by the company we’re using. I wanted to scout out how authentic the princesses looked before we hired them. (Prince Charming was a pathetic attempt at a dashing young man.) AB was so nervous to meet them we had to get out of line after 20 minutes. She’ll either love the princesses or it will be a nightmare. We’re having them come before the party and only AB and her cousin will visit with them. AB gets shy around large groups of people so hopefully she’ll enjoy it more in a small group.
I have something to get off my conscience- I don’t make her birthday cake. I’m the only one who was truly distraught over this decision, but I’m the only one in charge of planning her perfect party. My mom always made our cakes so I want to do the same for my children. I made the cakes for her first two parties and liked how they turned out. This year she wants an ice cream cake which I’ve never made before. I’ve heard they’re not hard to make but can be tricky to decorate. In the end I decided to buy two cakes, assemble them to make it two tiered cake and decorate it. I’m glad I made the decision because making the cake would have added yet another thing to my lengthy to do list.
Time to get back to my decorating and agonizing over which straws best match the tablecloth.
Mar 9, 2017 | In a People House, Uncategorized, What's going on |
Annabelle is dealing with bronchitis AGAIN. I’m just as tired writing about it as I’m sure you are of hearing it. It’s neeeever ending. I finally switched doctors because her initial doctor wasn’t being proactive about getting to the root of the issue or sending her to an allergy/asthma doctor. Switching doctors caused me some guilt. I was afraid I’d hurt the doctors feelings by leaving. I wanted to send flowers and tell her it wasn’t personal! She’s lovely! Never looked down on me for my constant visits! Now I’m having second thoughts. Maybe I should go back. I call and reinstate AB as a patient tomorrow.
I had to make a plethora of phone calls to find the new doctor so I deserve a medal. Adulting is too hard. I think the best of both worlds is to be an adult with the responsibilities of a child. All the fun parts but none of the insurance hassles.
We had two men come over today and test the house for mold. We’ll get results tomorrow, but when I asked if the man had any predictions he said, “well, it doesn’t look too good.” What a sunny outlook. When we spent much of last winter sick I joked that we were allergic to this state. Turns out, I might have been right. We might be allergic to our own house.
Yesterday the doorbell rang while I was on the phone. I wasn’t expecting someone and there wasn’t a car in the driveway so naturally I assumed someone was there to murder us. I am truly an example of sunshine and optimism. It was the general manager from the restaurant next door asking for signatures. Normally I read everything carefully before I sign but this time I was distracted and didn’t study the paper. I signed on the line and sent him on his way. For all I know I could have been agreeing to sell my liver. Christopher’s too, since I also signed his name.
How could I possibly find anything more thrilling to talk about that mold and livers?
I was looking through pictures of Sesame the other day and came across my very favorite ultrasound picture. I loved her little nose in the ultrasound and I love it now.
I’ve been wanting to make a silhouette for years but never got around today. I paid someone $9 and she did all the work. I think it’s precious.
Feb 19, 2017 | In a People House, Uncategorized, What's going on |
This is my 1,000th blog post.
That’s a lot of words.
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| Too many drafts, not enough earnings. |
I started way back in 2009 when I was younger, thinner and more well rested.
Most of my early posts make me cringe and I can’t read them without wanting to sink through the floor but I’m so glad I have them. The number of posts per year has gone down significantly since Annabelle was born but I still plugging away. Technically I already reached 1,000 posts but when Christopher and I were dating I unpublished some that I thought had subpar pictures I didn’t want him to see. I mentioned it later and he had already seen every single one so all efforts to maintain my squeaky-clean image were in vain.
I feel like I should do something big to commemorate this momentous occasion, but I couldn’t think of one thing. Yesterday I decided to do a day in the life in what is sure to be pain staking detail.
7:12- I woke up from an uncomfortable and very detailed dream about Christopher having an affair.
7:44- Annabelle started her early morning coughing fit. Moments before I had been thinking her bronchitis medicine must have kicked in because she didn’t cough all night. She’s out to prove me wrong at every turn.
8:00- She comes into my bed every day for our morning cuddle, to talk about our dreams and discuss what we’ll do that day.
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One of us looks like so sweet in the morning.
The other looks like a zombie. |
As always, she “needed to get something out of her wallet.” For unknown reasons, she refers to my phone as a pink sparkly wallet. My phone is none of those things but every morning that’s what she calls it. Lately she’s been asking to watch songs from Moana as she wakes up. It’s not one of my finest parenting moves to watch tv in bed but I’m not a morning person and I’m all about doing what gets you through.
8:22- While I was getting dressed Annabelle dumped out my bag of cough drops and made them into a train. They still need to be picked up.
8:45- Late breakfast. I asked AB if she wanted cheerios or a bagel. She said cheerios but when she saw me eating a bagel she said, “What do you think about sharing that with me, Mom?” It happens every single morning.
9:12- While I cleaned up the kitchen Sesame played in the living room. She told me it was my birthday which she’s already celebrated 34 times this year. She LOVES to play birthday. My birthday dessert was a tiny cupcake the size of a penny.
10:50- We arrive at Walmart. We went to a new Walmart instead of our old standby because we’re wild and crazy and you can’t hold us down!
10:54- Annabelle inspects every single thing in the produce department then moves to the dessert display. She tells me she wants it all for her birthday. I let her walk which means a sloth could have gotten around the store faster than we did.
11:25- I picked out a new vacuum. It was a big moment for me as a homemaker.
12:22- Home for a lunch of leftover fried rice. I break out the new vacuum while Annabelle eats. It’s embarrassing how excited I was about my new Dyson. I moved couches and cleaned corners that haven’t been cleaned in months. I sucked up so much dirt my old vacuum left behind.
1:35- Nap time for Annabelle. She yells down to me periodically about wanted water, a different book and a new stuffed animal.
1:45 to 3:30- In a rare burst of afternoon energy I cleaned the entire downstairs, including washing the floors and baseboards, organized toys and tidied up our bedroom.
4:30- I finally sat down to rest my eyes when AB woke up. Of course. I turn on the LaLa Land soundtrack and fill a bin with dried rice, beads and other small toys for AB to dig in. It makes a mess but it kept her occupied for 45 minutes so it was worth it. It gave me another excuse to use my magical vacuum!
5:15- Christopher comes home. We visit for a while then I vacuum upstairs. Suddenly the vacuum stoped sucking as well. Trouble in vacuum paradise! None of my fiddling with parts fixes it. I shed a few tears and go into mourning.
5:30 to 7:40- Supper, clean up, book reading, bedtime procrastination, etc.
7:41- I feel like it’s midnight. Is it bedtime yet? Is it too early to go to bed? When did vacuums and bulk paper towels become exciting? We finished the evening with Blacklist and chamomile tea.
Feb 3, 2017 | In a People House, Uncategorized, What's going on |
I’ve declared February as a No Spend Month. I don’t have much reason for it beyond wondering how much I really spend on unnecessarily and impulse purchases. In general I am very money conscious and don’t overspend anyway, but I want to see how much I can save. I started the month off on a good note by only paying $2.50 for a pair of brand new Paw Patrol shoes. (Annabelle wasn’t impressed with my money saving skilz. All she cared about was that they didn’t light up.) So far I haven’t spent 1 cent on unnecessary items. As they say in AB’s music class, “Good job, me!” No need to remind me it’s only February 2nd and I have 26 more days to keep this up.
Here’s a tip for anyone considering a No Spend Month of your own- don’t go to clothing websites “just to look around.” DO NOT TEMPT YOURSELF. You’ll fall in love with a gray dress covered in watercolor birds that doesn’t qualify as a necessary purchase. It’s basically a steal but Annabelle already has summer clothes and you’re trying not to go overboard with new outfits. But it’s so cheap its almost like saving money instead of spending it! It’s helping the economy and the country you love! Buy more and help the country more! I can justify anything!
Speaking of spending money reminds me of the Christmas dishes I bought at Goodwill last weekend. I went in for something to decorate our mantle and came out with 58 gold rimmed dishes for which I paid only $5. I don’t where I’ll store the dishes but I couldn’t pass up such a steal of a deal. I still need to find a home for the china my aunt gave me over Christmas. I went from having one set of every day dishes to nearly 90 new pieces in the last month. I’d host a dinner party but that would require getting the dishes out of Christopher’s car. I looked at them tonight and the box they’re in now houses paperwork, a jacket, a dirty tshirt, a glass container, a set of keys and a hardhat. So they’re being put to good use.
In other random tidbits, Christopher booked me a massage for tonight. Between the two of us he’s the massage lover but he knows I’ve been stressed lately and very sweetly wanted to do something for me. I like massages fine, but if I go a whole year without one I don’t miss them. I’m not a huge fan of a stranger rubbing my body for an hour. I’m constantly touched by a toddler so I’m not lacking human interaction. The massage was scheduled to be an hour and half (45 minutes past my comfort zone) so I was a little concerned about how it would go. I considered asking the lady to massage me for 45 minutes then let me sleep the rest of the time.
I was also concerned about the talking issue. I never know if the massage therapist wants to talk or not so I spend the entire time worrying that I’m either being rude by not talking or breaking some no-talking rule if I do talk. Nothing about it is relaxing. Christopher said it’s not much a talking situation but he falls asleep if he lays down for more than 4 seconds so he’s not really a reliable source. He doesn’t stay awake long enough to socialize. The massage started off very quietly with Amelia asking what I do for work. I said I stay home with AB and asked if she has kids. She said she doesn’t because she hasn’t found The One and “it takes two to tango and I don’t tango often and don’t want to dance with the wrong person.” It struck me as so funny for some reason and I couldn’t stop laughing. I met her 7 minutes earlier but she was filling me in on all the personal details of her life. We laughed the entire time and I think that did me more good than the actual massage. She covered a variety of details including sports and sports viewing snacks, teaching inner city children to golf, her stepmother, her stepmothers cat, her teenage brother, bees, school and slugs. I wouldn’t have minded a few minutes of quiet, especially when she was talking about the mating habits of hyenas (“most people don’t know how weird they are with their partners”) but overall it was an enjoyable experience.
I’m glad laughter is free. I would have needed to break into Annabelle’s piggy bank to pay for all the laughing I did.
Jan 20, 2017 | In a People House, Sesame, Uncategorized |
I had big plans to blog yesterday afternoon but the morning exhausted me and I had no energy left. Why was I so tired? Because I hosted a play date. It was only 4 kids total but you’d have thought it was 34. I had a bad nights sleep, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and I didn’t feel like having company. I felt so bad about it because they’re a sweet family and good friends but I didn’t even want to get out of bed, let alone prepare peanut butter sandwiches and strawberries for extra people. They didn’t leave until after I had put Annabelle down for a nap. Isn’t there an unwritten code that says play dates end before nap time? I can only be friends with fellow nap nazis.
I’ve always been introverted but since having Annabelle it’s gotten worse. I LOVE knowing all about people and what they do, what they like and their favorite flavor of ice cream. I don’t like having to carry on endless conversations. I like the idea of having people over better than the actual having them and the small talk the comes with them. It’s a complicated relationship.
On Monday I made a big deal about our fun activity of the day being a trip to the library. Sesame loves the dollhouse and play food in the childrens room so she was very excited. We got there only to discover it was closed for Martin Luther King Jr day. I’m as anti segregation as the next person but I don’t appreciate that the country celebrating his birthday meant I couldn’t visit the library. We walked around the pet store instead and ran into a friend from school MOPS. If you’re looking for a gift for Annabelle just buy a dog toy. She’s obsessed with them.
Some big news around here is we’re trying to wean Sesame of her pacifier. On Sunday night I made Mr. Lion a special bed out of a cardboard box and put it on her shelf. Mr. Lion said told Sesame he wants to start sleeping in his own bed. She was on board with the idea until she realized it meant he wouldn’t be in her bed. He stayed in his bed for a while then went back into hers. The time they spent apart was very traumatic for all of us.
Last night he went on a vacation to the safari aka the living room.
Every three minutes she’d ask what Mr. Lion was doing. “MAMA! You check on Mr. Lion! Mama! What’s Mr. Lion doing? (Eating an apple.) Moooom! When is Mr. Lion coming back? (Tomorrow morning.) Mama! What’s Mr. Lion doing? (Eating a marshmallow.) Is Mr. Lion on vacation with the giraffes? (Yes.) What’s he doing now? (HE’S TRYING TO SLEEP BUT CAN’T BECAUSE YOU’RE BEING TOO NOISY.) She didn’t go to sleep until 11 but she fell asleep without him for the first time in her life. No such luck so far tonight. It was too exhausting playing travel agent last night so he’s staying in the guestroom tonight. Annabelle is none too pleased with this arrangement and she’s letting us know it.
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| They go way back. |
This morning at MOPS we were discussing prayer. You know how people say not to pray for patience because you’ll get a chance to practice it? The same applies when discussing prayer. You’ll immediately find yourself in a situation which requires praying. We had a MAJOR toilet malfunction during lunch. I am not kidding when I say I was standing in the bathroom in my snow boots dealing with the situation for half an hour. I had to take water from the toilet with an old bucket and pour it into the sink. THEN THE SINK CLOGGED UP. I won’t share anymore details. I don’t want to relive the experience. Christopher came home with Draino which I poured into the toilet. He used the plunger one time and it was working again. After all my slaving and gagging and bleaching and praying for it to stop HE was the one who fixed it!
Life can be so unfair. I’m sure Mr. Lion-less Annabelle would agree.
