And how it makes my bff’s head hurt. In two short screenshots.
I’m gonna do it. And it will be great. Stay tuned for the results.
My neighbor has been doing an amazing job scouting pieces for me to reclaim. I repay her with remade clothes. This is what she brought me yesterday.
She really liked the yellow dress but mostly just the skirt of it. I’m going to take the bodice off, add a stretchy waistband and maybe a pocket. Probably out of the almost-giraffe fabric she loved in my stash. ❤️❤️
it takes a good 30 minutes of rethreading and coaxing for my serger, Marge, to agree to function every time I change the thread color. So I try to pile up like-hued projects.
Right now in the pile I have a raglan from an old high school t-shirt for me, a cold shoulder blouse for my step-mom, and two items not yet cut from this pile.
The top three are very different colors, and my Seoul Sister tells me “No.” But I’m going to make a shirt from the trio. And I think it will work. Just in case, I will make it my own size 😉😉
the lower pair is going to be a pencil skirt with wide hip stripes which I think will be unquestionably fabulous. I may need one of those for myself, too.
After these projects, I will still have plenty left, that if you see something you like, I may be able to work you a piece. And as this is my first piece written specifically to begin filling my fabric stash category, you can trust that I have much more to choose from.
Lettuces, herbs and weeds.
I don’t even know whether I like the vegetable this plant produces but it is by far my favorite sprout.
My garden is full of volunteers. Unidentified melons or squashes have popped up everywhere. Usually amid other things. Here is my little family celebrating marriage equality with the rest of us. Two baby peppers and a sturdy tomato on the edge of the pepper patch with mom. ( also dangerously close to the peas. Seriously are they going to grab me? )
Perhaps the two biggest and bloodiest battles in the realm of Mommy Wars. I don’t know why but I always throw in too when I see it starting, though not the same way it seems most other mommies do. I’m not there to say my way is the one correct way. Let me share my story first.
When Gator came along I wanted to breastfeed. I took a class. I read a little bit. I bought an awesome pump for when I went back to work. Unfortunately it didn’t work out. Maybe I could have tried a little harder. Maybe that exasperated nurse could have given me assistance instead of a bottle that first exhausted night. Gator didn’t want to latch and once she got immediate gratification from a bottle she had no interest in the boob.
I still pumped. For four months I pumped and pumped until there was a scaly ring of skin around my nipple from that plastic torture device. I finally gave up when in an entire day I was getting eight ounces. One meal. No longer worth it.
Gator was also a mover and a shaker. She didn’t want to stop and she certainly didn’t want to nap but tired babies and children are probably the worst thing in all the realm of parenting. I say that having been thrown up on. A lot.
She didn’t like to be rocked to sleep or held. In fact she needed as little stimulation as possible in order to sleep well. Sometimes I had to make the executive decision for her wellbeing and my sanity to let her cry for a few minutes before falling asleep because I’m the Mom and I know that right now sleep is best. And because in the mom of this particular child I know what will work and what won’t.
Fast forward four years and here is my squiggly Octopus. All the nurses and midwives had their hands full off my boobs to help out and Octo breastfeeds like a pro. In fact she is doing it as I type this. I have recently begun giving her bottles of formula once or twice a day to give her larger, quicker meals so that I can get work done. For a time I was pumping between every feeding but I honestly don’t have time for that now that the garden is growing and I need to get some actual work done to save for our vacation.
Octo is chill and calm and happy. Put her in her bed and she’s like “Oh it must be time to sleep…” *snore*. But there are days when she only naps while on the boob and by late afternoon she is more kraken than octopus. So I lay her down with her mobile spinning and open the curtain do she can watch the trees. Sometimes she protests but she generally falls asleep before any actual crying occurs.
So here’s the thing. These are my two kids. Same parents. Born in the same hospital. Same sex. Using the same crib. Wearing the same clothes. Playing with the same toys. Yet I have used very different tactics in getting them along in their lives. They are different kids. Gator liked being swaddled and Octo screamed when any battery powered toy played music the first three months of her life.
I don’t believe that formula is poison (there are far too many strict guidelines and regulations about production of formula). I don’t think that leaving my child in a safe place when she is overtired will cause abandonment issues because she disagreed with my superior knowledge on the subject of child rearing.
The choices I make are the right choices. They are different for each child because each child is different.
The choices you make for your child are the right choices. I don’t know your kid’s personality or quirks and I would never try to tell you your choices are wrong. I may offer a suggestion when you are beside yourself not knowing what to do, but it will be only a suggestion. Try it. If it works, cool. If not try something else.
Breastfeed or formula feed. Let her cry or pick her up at the first whimper. You’re doing it right and so am I. I’m asking for a truce and put at least these two battles behind us and move toward ending the Mommy Wars forever.
While pretending to work one afternoon I was scrolling through my Facebook feed and saw someone had shared a recipe for Dandelion Bread. I had just been out in my not-yet-planted garden thinking how my crop of dandelions was doing quite nicely. So I enlisted my helper and we went collecting.
It was interesting to me that when we got inside and started pulling stems I had picked all the largest blooms but Gator had picked the smallest.
Then I had to cut all the heads off. Which is tedious. But also relaxing.
I ended up finishing making the bread on my own because I wanted Gator to play outside since there was rain in the coming forecast. I modified the recipe by adding nuts and chia seeds, as well as substituting my grandma’s applesauce for half the honey.
It’s damn good bread. This is what it looked like by 10:00 the next morning.
It tastes like dirt and sunshine and outside. I want to try it with my cranberry jalapeño jam, but I keep forgetting to grab it when I’m downstairs. It may be gone by the time I remember!!
I just noticed there are an enormous amount of violets out there too. Maybe that’s next!!
Omg i love the kid crafting.
the little stupid activties.
Painting in sun catchers.
This thing that i remember doing in elementary school… drawing on aluminum foil with permanent markers!? And i found a pin that said to make a design out of hot glue on the cardboard underneath!? Genius.
I don’t have any final shots of them because, being the genius that i am, attached magnets to the backs of them and took them with us on a trip to see some grandparents that weekend. So, crafts made and gifted and not hanging around my house, but the grandparents get a memento. win.win.win.
Now, it’s Perler beads.
I can’t even…
all the matching…
By this time Gator had had enough and was playing on the tablet instead… but i pushed through…
There’s a Wonder Woman movie coming out. I’m so excited. I can’t even. You don’t even understand.
This is a new type of excitement for me. This is not an old, familiar excitement like when Iron Man was first coming out. I have always loved Iron Man. Used to watch it before school in the morning. This isn’t the kind of excitement of sharing Tangled with my daughter. I already loved Rapunzel since I was just a little kid. That kind of excitement is the old, comforting one of reuniting with an old friend, and introducing her to my baby.
Wonder Woman is a new friend.
During potty training we had Wonder Woman and Super Girl on the pull ups. She latched onto what she called Wunner Munan. I was always tying her blankie around her neck so she could be WW and jump off the couch.
Then she gave me some story about wanting this superhero Barbie. and I said would you like Barbie, or would you like Wonder Woman?
But wait, what’s this? Controversy about the woman cast to play the role? We can’t possibly be shaming the future Wonder Woman, can we?
Yup. we sure are.
Okay, I understand that the original Wonder Woman of the comics has a body type which was the standard of beauty in another decade, a different era, and Gal Gadot does not fit that standard. Yes, I understand that you think the physical appearance of this fictional character should be different. I know that you think saying that she needs to look different in this particular way (which is the opposite direction than we normally indicate) makes it seem like you are on the “Right” side of the argument.
But you’re not. No matter how you phrase it (even if you are hiding behind blaming the company who hired her) you are still saying that she is not right for the part because of her Body. Because she doesn’t look how *you* expected her to look.
It’s the same damn thing. Stop talking about her body and be excited to see the Wonder Woman film. Be excited about getting to introduce a new generation of fans (both small children, and grown people who had no exposure before) to a beautiful classic . I am.
I’m clumsy. clumsy isn’t even a clumsy enough word to describe it. I’m of a clumsy family. Grace does not run in our genes.
I have ham hands.
Out of necessity i have always kept a set of dishes that do not match… whatever is cobbled together from past roommates and pieces to replace the ones I break. We have one set of four matching bowls, all that’s left of my husband set from before he threw his lot in with Hulky VonSmasherson. We have two blue plates from my own original set, though one has a huge crack in it and should’ve been retired ages ago…
Now that i have this funky cool kitchen, i want my dishes to also be cool, if maybe not quite so funky. i mean some of these plates we really hate, are very ugly. that big black one? The two with the stupid yellow flowers? The plastic one?
So one by one i am buying plates… not *because* i broke one, but in order to remove an ugly one from my collection. And later, when they break i will be sad for a time (because choosing plates one by one is a different game than just buying a whole matched set) but i will also have fun searching for the new funky plate to add to our collection.
I always loved the four different chairs around Monica’s table.
That’s how I’ve always wanted my dinnerware to look.
I have started a collection of plates in my Kitchen board (and have decided that Pinterest needs sub-boards… organization is getting hard) and from now on, whenever i feel like i can spare five to eight dollars on some retail therapy, i will get a new plate. squee.
I got a crock pot from my husband for Christmas. A big one. I have been making soup. I made Sweet Potato and Ham soup (though, surprisingly, i left off the bacon) from my family Christmas’ leftover ham. There was Thanksgiving Leftover Soup which, golly gee, was so good. And it was my turkey, my garden carrots, green beans and corn, and my aunt’s amazing crock pot mashed potatoes. i died. and then i ate more.
Then i made this one, because i wanted to take a picture of this…
I can’t remember where it was that my aunt and cousin and i were social-mediaing over this recipe now (so many venues) but for me it basically turned into a throw a bunch of stuff into a pot with a lentil and butternut squash base (only one left!)
It *was* vegetarian until i used chicken stock instead of veggie, because that’s what I had… in fact, it was-was vegan, but i also used milk to dilute that horrifying black color of the water from the black beans. i really hate black beans.
later i added some quinoa because why the heck not? It was interesting. i scooped it up with chips. the husband didn’t like it.
I know. thrilling soup review…
Don’t you just love the floor in my kitchen?