Heathen Family Revival

Yoo Hoo, Over Here!

2011-01-15T15:45:00.000-05:00

Goodbye...Maybe...I Don't Know...

2010-09-29T18:05:00.000-04:00

I'm gonna be real honest with you folks. As my loyal readers I believe you deserve to know the truth.

I'm finding it pretty difficult to care about blogging right now. It's not writer's block or a deficit of time that's been keeping me from this space. It's not you, it's me. When I embarked on this journey, the internet filled a very obvious void in my life. I was reaching out to find like minded people, parents who got what I was going through and shared my values. I needed to feel like I belonged to something. Blogging helped me to look deeper into myself, which ultimately led me to look outside of myself with a more open mind. By making friends in the virtual world, I have learned how to make better friends in the real world.

It's mostly those three dimensional friends you can blame for my absence. The void I felt 2.5 years ago has been filled. That empty space was what motivated me to write and now I find myself without inspiration. Now, before you get sad or mad or hungry, I would like to say that facebook shares some of the blame for my blog apathy. I have friended most of my favorite blog writers and readers and keep up to date with their lives that way. It's instant gratification.

Soooo, I am going to take a pretty good break from blogging. Maybe forever, maybe not. Anyone who wants to find me on facebook, is welcome to do just that. If you're here for the photos, I am active on flickr. I am also on twitter, but that account has withered, so I wouldn't bother. I am not gifted in the 140 character milieu.

Thank for everything and adieu.

School: A Photo Essay

2010-09-21T16:42:00.000-04:00

Passing the Torch

2010-09-08T05:43:00.001-04:00

The summer is over, at least according to the Labor Day rule, and so for my final Wardrobe Wednesday I give you the final swim of the season.

It was an uncommonly beautiful day and I took some lovely photos of Violet and her friends splashing in the water in their rapidly shrinking bathing suits.

But, enough about me.

Drum roll please....

The new home for Wardrobe Wednesday will be Feet Off the Table. The lovely and talented Aliceson will be your host for as long as she can stand it! Go give her some love and share some fashion disasters.

Later dudes.

Violet Has Mail!

2010-09-01T08:35:00.000-04:00

This post is woefully overdue, but here it is.

A few weeks ago, a comment exchange with Holly of Cold Spaghetti resulted in an offer of silly bandz. I gave my consent and address and soon a letter arrived in the mail for Violet. As much as I love e-mail, there is no substituting the joy of an actual paper letter with your name written on the front....er, a letter that contains Silly Bandz and NOT a bill, that is.

Holly is clearly the Mama of a little girl, because she KNEW even the packaging would be a source of ecstatic joy!

I've Got a Lot of Balls...in the air

2010-08-24T22:18:00.000-04:00

This week we started kindergarten and it is way harder than I thought it was going to be, so I may have to start drinking in the evening. Violet is enrolled in a virtual charter school. I know some homeschoolers will say I have sold out to the man, but when the man provides ALL the books AND a computer AND an internet stipend, he's pretty hard to resist. I LOVE free shit! Anywho, I am still working out how to make this curriculum bend to my will, so I may be a bit of a ghost.

I got myself a few photo gigs and I have been juggling school work and photoshop work and housework and that has left me very little time to read blogs or write blogs or even fantasize about posts in my head. I have set a goal of writing one post a week and I am going to pare down my blog reader to the bare bones. Don't worry. If you are reading this, I will probably continue to read your blog.

I started going to a belly dancing class with my friend E and that has been fun and challenging, without making me want to kill the instructor. I highly recommend it. It is a subtle art form, so there is ZERO workout culture, pep-talking. I hate that crap.

We are now official members of a large learning co-op, as well as a preK co-op......soooooo, I find myself busier than I have been in a looong time. Remember, I don't multi-task well.

Here's where I drop the bomb.

I am going to discontinue Wardrobe Wednesday. It has run its course for me and it's time to move on. If anyone would like to take it over, let me know and I will link to your blog and send participants your way.

M'kay?

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-08-17T22:48:00.000-04:00

I am phoning it in again this week. This is a wardrobe related page from the scrapbook I'm working on right now.

Incidentally, my blog has been enormously helpful with this marathon scrapbooking. I just cut and paste this text directly from an old post and voila!

(Digital) Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-08-11T08:45:00.000-04:00

Due to an awesome sale at Winkflash this month, I have a major scrapbooking deadline. I don't write about my scrapping often, because I don't think it's a very interesting topic, but right now I have pixels on the brain as I try to scrap 12 months of photos in the next 2 weeks. @$%#!

I was recently trolling the internet for ideas and came across a digital paper pack made to look like chalkboards. I was contemplating a purchase when I realized that I could totally make the paper myself.

I also made the masking tape frame, using my new scanner. How did I ever live without a scanner before?

So, I am totally going to give you these files to download for your own manic scrapbooking.

Chalkboard with Talk Bubble
http://www.mediafire.com/?5nyd77bd2linsr2

Masking Tape Frame
http://www.mediafire.com/?k3h59hj5y9atsdh
*Both files are in photoshop format.

Do me a favor. If you use my stuff, upload a copy of your work to my Linky. I would love to ~~steal~~ see what you come up with!

I Like a Man with Exceptional Fine Motor Control

2010-08-05T22:08:00.000-04:00

My husband spends a lot of his day pretending to be an asshole. His job involves keeping bad people away from good people and that is not an occupation for the faint of heart. Asshole is part of the job description. Seriously. I read the contract.*

Recently, the stress of work has been following Aaron home. Really, it trails him like an annoying neighbor kid who just can't seem to get the message that he isn't wanted. The stress makes Aaron sensitive and that makes me sensitive and before you know it everyone is suffering from a digestive complaint and a 3-day migraine. I beg. I nag. I plead with my husband to find something, anything to do that might help him de-stress. A real, old-fashioned hobby, involving his hands and various 3 dimensional supplies.**

He found one.

I nag because I care... and because it works.

87 paper cranes were hanging in my living room this morning. He wanted it to be an even 100, but his hands gave out. It took 7 hours to fold them and 3 hours to hang them. It took me about 30 seconds to start crying.

*No I didn't!
**Video games do not count as a hobby. Sorry. Nope.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-08-04T08:40:00.000-04:00

I recently got a scanner. I know. Welcome to the new millennium, Heathen Family! Anyhoo... I've been scanning some old photos to ~~embarrass~~ share with friends and family on facebook.

If you are the schooling type, it's getting to be that time of year again. The aisles at Target are full of new pencils and clean, lined notebooks. I love the smell of school supplies in the morning! I thought I'd share with you some pictures of me from the first day of first grade. The year was 1983.

Aren't we all so cute? Sadly, I know that at least one of the people in this photo is dead. It sucks getting old.

How much do you think that Smurf lunchbox would fetch now? Sigh.

Among the Jellies

2010-08-03T09:14:00.000-04:00

I am trying out another new photo challenge today. I am just going to keep entering different contests until I win.

This week's theme is Animal Kingdom... so, go take some pictures of the wildlife.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-07-28T00:22:00.000-04:00

Last year, we discovered Ladybug Girl. Violet was immediately hooked and since Lulu bears a strong likeness to our girl, we now own all three books in the series.


If only more people knew about Lulu, I would stop hearing about Violet's resemblance to Suri Cruise.

Up until this recently, Violet has been content to merely read about Ladybug Girl. Our trip to the water park last week is the closest Violet has ever been to the ocean, but it was enough to forge a kinship between her and Lulu. Lulu conquers her fear of the ocean in the latest installment of Ladybug Girl and Violet was inspired to do the same in the wave pool... sort of.

Violet has taken to dressing, not as Ladybug Girl, but as Fairy Cat Girl.

It didn't take long for Violet to remember why she doesn't wear a leotard around the house. Fairy Cat Girl (seen without wings after an emergency potty stop) has a really hard time keeping her costume dry. She may be five, but she still needs help with those silly one piece garments.

Absolute Favorite (for right now)

2010-07-26T22:00:00.000-04:00

I found a new weekly photo challenge, hosted by the paper mama. She's got a fun blog, with lots of photos, so I thought I'd give it a go.

The theme this week is "Absolute Favorite". I have too many photos to really do an in depth search, so I limited myself to the last 6 months.

This is Vi and one of her friends, telling secrets in a cave at the children's garden. I love that you can only see one eye and yet that eye is clearly so very serious.

My Lost Week

2010-07-23T17:21:00.000-04:00

So, I forgot that my blog does not transmit directly from my head (if someone could invent that I'd really appreciate it, 'kay). I must now attempt to recap, without getting all epic in length or sacrificing my charming story telling style.

My niece and nephew came to visit. They normally reside in Arizona, where I've been told the heat is dry and the scorpions are like 99% guaranteed NOT to get in your house. Mosquitoes and humidity were a frequent topic of concern for the kids, especially the boy, who seemed to have a leaky faucet attached to the top of his skull and a new welt every 10 minutes.

Violet had a birthday and a party and got very little direct attention from her mother for approximately 6 days and appears to be unharmed by the experience. Of course, she crawled into my bed almost every night, so I guess I shouldn't start weeping for the loss of my sweet, needy baby just yet.

This innocent fun is totally and completely illegal in Arizona. Like, zero tolerance illegal, not Ohio (we look the other way one weekend a year) illegal. The box of cheap sparklers we bought could potentially burn down the whole state. The kids were elated and felt like they were doing something naughty. It was pretty entertaining to watch.

We also spent a day at the water park, for which there are mercifully no photographs. Aaron and I brought home black and blue souvenirs on the shoulder and ass respectively. Water slides really are built for young people. Violet learned that the lazy river is a dangerous hazard, where you cannot even trust your own mother to prevent you from drowning. Also...peeing in pools is totally okay in Grandma's book, but that's a post for another day.

We left the water park just as it started to storm and headed straight to the refuge of Bob Evans, which is an Ohio temple of senior citizen cuisine and all-day breakfast. The girl was excited to try something new and by "new" I mean enough food to feed a girls' softball team. She ate bacon, eggs, potatoes, stuffed cinnamon pancakes, one of her brother's chicken fingers and a hunk of my chicken fried steak. It was a sight to behold!

We went bowling. We walked. We dressed the girl up in my senior prom dress and forced her to pose for pictures in the 90 degree heat. We visited the art museum and played corn hole. We got comic books and made photo albums and schemed about ways to make money for future plane tickets. We watched challenging movies and talked about important stuff and stupid stuff equally. There was some farting and squabbling and whining, but it was a good time.

Today, I packed them up and sent them back and tried not to cry.

The End.

Over My Head: I Heart Faces

2010-07-19T21:49:00.000-04:00

The sun was just over Violet's head. It was a perfect chance to practice capturing solar flare.

Oh...and she's FIVE now. I am head over heals in love with this kid.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-07-14T08:50:00.000-04:00

I live a scant 3 blocks from a grocery store. It's nice to be able to walk there, but when I have access to the car I usually drive to Trader Joe's. I may rethink things now. My ghetto market is making a concerted effort to class things up.

Your WIC coupons are welcome here ladies, but the bikini top needs to stay at home.

Monday Garden Club: Weeds Are Plants Too

2010-07-12T20:45:00.000-04:00

I've noticed that folks with gardens are always talking about the weeds. The weeds must go! The weeds are evil! How can I get fewer weeds and more pretty plants? Wah, wah, wah!

Weeds need love too, people! I have taken it upon myself to start a weed sanctuary. My yard is a place where morning glories and crab grass of every shape and color can come to feel safe. Creeping vines of all sorts need not worry about being ripped from the ground and unceremoniously thrown in the compost pile. There are no precious zucchini plants or tomato cages to impede the growth of dandelions in my backyard.

I have also created a spectacular chigger habitat. I received four bites of gratitude while I was taking this picture. They really are very happy in this space.

Of course, despite my best efforts to create a beauty-free zone in my yard, the Trumpet Creeper vine on my back fence continues to flourish. It's even sent out little search parties into the tall grass to look for new places to sprout.

If I use macro focus no one need ever know how much of a mess my yard really is. I think that's the best solution, better gardening through tricky photography.

Okay, the real gardeners are working over here at Aliceson's place. Go visit and see actual food being grown. It really is a mystery to me how she does it.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-07-07T00:15:00.002-04:00

This gumball machine mustache was the only thing Violet enjoyed about eating lunch at our local taqueria.

While away with her Grandma, Violet gets to indulge in the childhood equivalent of the Vegas slots. I almost never have money for gumball machines, so Vi gets pretty jacked up when she gets to put in a quarter and turn the dial. This weekend she got an enormous Shrek tattoo. Violet has never seen the movie Shrek (because her parents think it's stupid) and the tattoo is kind of ugly, but she would not be deterred. Grandma couldn't bare to apply the nearly 5 inch tat to Violet's arms or legs, so she made an interesting decision. She put Shrek on Violet's butt. You'll have to imagine it for yourself. I took a photo for my private collection, but there was no way to make it decent enough for internet consumption. It takes up one whole cheek.

This Has Nothing to do with the 4th of July

2010-07-03T08:55:00.000-04:00

I hope you are having a wonderful weekend. I'm sure I will suffer some sort of heat related injury before the holiday is through, but that's what the 4th is all about. Right?

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-06-30T09:19:00.000-04:00

So, our whirlwind flirtation with local fame came to a spectacular conclusion this week. Violet was invited to help cut the ribbon for a new pavilion at our downtown metro park. The media materials I received referred to Violet as "The Ambassador of Family Fun". Trust me when I say, we wore that title out. It's an especially funny moniker for a child who is busy spreading her joy through a temper tantrum.

This is video from our local news.

I was instructed to dress Violet as a fairy, so that she would be recognized from the Parkways cover. I was under the impression that I would be taking photos of my darling celebrity, but the PR department had other plans for me. I was charged with wielding the big scissors. As it was explained to me, my job was to make the actual cut on the ribbon, because the kids were given safety scissors. Ha! Those ginormous scissors were as blunt as a pair of old butter knives. One of the boys who shared the stage with us managed to cut the ribbon, through the sheer force of his will. I swear it was made of kevlar.

It was a lot of fun, being famous for a time, but I'm happy we can return to our life of anonymity. It would be really stressful for me to make myself look presentable all the time.

What were you wearing this week?

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-06-23T10:09:00.001-04:00

This is Violet's costuming vision for her 5th birthday party. Polka dot backdrop optional. She is full of ideas lately.

Some random quotes from my dotty little girl:

"Mary! You are not a ghost. Look in the mirror." Mary is a white, stuffed dog.

"Boobies are funny." Said from the toilet, as she watched me get in the shower.

"Ouch! Mama, you need to clean this room. I stepped on this thing and it hurt." She said this after totally rejecting the verity of my own injury in her messy room.

"Mary stayed awake all night! She is teaching all the other animals to stay up all night!"

"Mama!! I slept in my clothes. I looked down this morning and I was like, OH My God! I never put pajamas on."

"That toothpaste is too spicy." We ran out of her mild, mint kid paste and she had to use the grown up stuff.

"Actually...Mary hates all animals...but only zoo animals." The word actually is a favorite of Violet's.

What have your kids been saying lately?

My Baby Niece is 15 and if You Do the Math that Means I Am Old

2010-06-21T13:39:00.000-04:00

My little sister got a jump on things about 15 years ago and gave birth to my lovely niece Breanna. Sure, people worry when 16 year olds have babies, but I'd say my sister is having the last laugh on that. By the time my sister is 40, she will have finished raising her kids AND she will hold several college diplomas.

My niece and nephew are coming to visit next month and I will surely take lots of WAY more impressive photos than this, but for now this must suffice.

Apparently, the folks at I Heart Faces are unaware of my summer schedule and decided to put on a teen challenge THIS week. I would fare much better if the challenge were held the last week of July, but whatever. I'm not bitter.

Toy Story 3: Al Fresco

2010-06-19T15:48:00.000-04:00

Living in Ohio has a few perks. We get to "enjoy" four seasons of weather and, strange as it may seem, our state is tied for the most working drive-in movie theaters in the country. Ohioans enjoy bringing their own snacks and citronella candles to the cinema. The Heathen Family is no exception.

Last night, in the shadow of the runway at Wright-Patterson Air Force base, we saw Toy Story 3. I mention the runway because at one point during the movie a cargo plane took off and I missed a bit of dialogue. No matter. It's all part of the drive-in experience. Also, gale force wind and rain, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

When last we left our intrepid toys, they were choosing to embrace love and life with a child, over a sterile eternity under museum glass. In Toy Story 3, Woody and the gang face the inevitable consequences of their decision. Andy is all grown-up and leaving for college. No more playtime.

I laughed, I cried....I packed up all of my stuff in the middle of the movie because the wind started to blow really hard and the rain threatened to soak us... I ~~would~~ will see it again and again.

Actually, the rain abated and we watched the rest of the movie inside the car. The drops on the windshield made for a less than hi-def experience, but at that point it didn't matter much. Woody was in trouble, serious trouble. All we cared about was making sure he was okay. Violet was vibrating with agitation. She experiences new movies with her whole being.

Do you remember the scene in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves where Robin is trying to rescue the Sherwood Forest gang from a hanging? Maid Marion suddenly lets out with a blood curdling "ROBIN!!!!!" It's the best, most visceral scream I've ever heard in a movie that didn't involve sleep away camp. Anywho, that is what Violet sounded like as she screamed, "WOODY!!!!" during the most terrifying scene in the movie.

Here's the ONLY clip I could find containing said scream from Robin Hood. It happens at the 55 second mark, if you want to fast forward past Kevin Costner looking worried and shooting arrows. I'll totally judge you for skipping the deliciousness that is early 90s cinema, but whatever. Just imagine Violet's rumpled little head in place of Mary Elizabeth Mastran-whatsherface and you'll have a close approximation of last night's wail from the back seat.

So yeah, go see TS3 and then stick your hand in the $5 bin at Wal-Mart and pull out a copy of Robin Hood, because that kind of nostalgia is intoxicating. Don't believe me? Visit this link* and prepare to be transported back to the land of mullets and the first Gulf War.

*This is totally a Bryan Adams video and I would have embedded it, you know for your convenience and all, but some Canadian has let fame go to his head and won't allow me to do that.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-06-16T00:00:00.001-04:00

On Saturday morning, Violet was double booked for birthday parties. Thankfully, the black cloud of rain that has been following us all spring was there to solve our dilemma. One birthday was rescheduled later in the afternoon, so we didn't have to reveal which kid we love more. Whew!

It was a long day of partying for my girl and by evening she looked like a rave kid who had been sampling the ecstasy.

I think she's talking to her cake dealer. She was totally jonesing for another icing fix.

Baby Mine

2010-06-14T15:03:00.000-04:00

I was at a birthday party this weekend and caught a little infection from my friend's baby. Baby Fever, to be exact. It is highly contagious, especially for people who have mouthy, independent, soon-to-be school aged kids. I Heart Faces is also running a baby theme this week, so I found myself wistfully flipping through the archives of The Heathen Family iPhoto albums.

I would have posted a photo of the infectious newborn in question, but I was too busy trying not to weep in public to think about training my camera on his little face.

Go check out the rest of the baby photos, but don't blame me if your uterus starts quivering.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-06-09T09:55:00.000-04:00

Violet loves a good, fluffy petticoat. She wears them alone. She wears them under dresses. Sometimes she wears them on her head. Fancy pettiskirts for sale on the web cost like a million dollars, so I have improvised as best I can without actually making one from scratch. I don't smoke enough crack to take on a project involving thousands of yards of nylon tulle. This one was made from the tutu on last year's ballet costume. When she wears it in the sun, the sequins make her look like a disco ball.

Okay. I am going to try and be a good meme host and use a linky. Don't disappoint me dear readers. I wanna see what you're wearing.

Play!

2010-06-07T19:13:00.000-04:00

I love this photo of Violet. She's laughing. She's swinging. She's in focus...

Don't you just wanna jump into this photo and listen to her giggle? I wish I had recorded her voice. She was just like a wind chime that day.

All the other kids are outside playing too. Go check them out at I Heart Faces.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-06-02T07:34:00.000-04:00

I know you have come to expect darling photos of Violet on Wardrobe Wednesday, but I felt the need to change things up.

Aaron performed a wedding ceremony this weekend and some of the guests were very colorful. This lady was followed by several family members who were similarly dressed.

Who's Afraid of Facebook?

2010-05-27T23:12:00.001-04:00

My best friend from college got married last fall and I was asked to photograph the wedding. It was a small affair and I had some time to chit chat during the reception. I was talking to childhood friends of the bride and the subject drifted to children and because I was wielding a huge camera, the topic then turned to the many ways we share photos of our kids.

Disguised, so as to throw off internet predators.

Well, I thought that was where the small talk was leading, but apparently I had veered off into Terror Town. This friend of a friend unleashed her paranoia on me as matter-of-factly as a mother might speak about juggling chainsaws or drinking Drano. Posting photos on the internet was bad, downright dangerous. This woman went on to say that she didn't even have a picture of herself on her facebook profile, let alone photographs of her children. I was stunned. I just stopped talking. I had been one sentence away from exposing myself as the worst mother in the history of all mothers (in her eyes anyway). I considered the bride's feelings and shut my mouth.

As much as I dismissed this irrational fear of internet predators, I also dwelled on it. I couldn't understand what she was so afraid of her. Cryptically, she had mentioned her husband worked "in technology" and that "he knows what's out there." What is out there exactly? Was I being naive? It gnawed at me for a long time. I meant to do some research and then I got distracted by the holidays and before I knew it I was putting my child in peril AGAIN by posting dozens of photos of her opening presents at various locations.

Facebook is all over the news now with its privacy issues and it has reminded me that I need to figure out his internet fear puzzle. I didn't think the privacy settings were that confusing, but whatever. I also have never had any illusions about what facebook's ultimate goal is: To sell shit. Do you think fb is really free? NO. It takes hundreds of employees to keep the site operating smoothly. Facebook needs to sell stuff to you and they do that by using all of the information that you have so graciously provided them. It is no different than Amazon and her relentless and eerily accurate suggestions for what you might like to buy next.

I don't mean to be glib. We should all stay vigilant about what information we share on the intertubes, but unless you walk around in a ski mask 24/7 your face is already public information. When someone sees you coming out of your house in the morning they assume you live there. They can see the license plate on your car and if they wanted to they could climb under it and get the VIN number and learn all sorts of information about you. I'm not suggesting that we all post our address and phone number on facebook, but consider this. The guy who sees you leave for work every morning is way more likely to do you or your family harm than some stranger who lands on your internet profile. Period.

“There is this characterization of pedophiles using the Internet as an L. L. Bean catalog, but this is not the way it happens,” says Prof. David Finkelhor, director of the Crimes Against Children Research Center at the University of New Hampshire.

Still not convinced? This is straight from The National Center for Victims of Crime:

Strangers are the least likely perpetrators of sexual assault against children in cases reported to law enforcement: 3 percent of the youngest victims ages five and under, 5 percent of six- to eleven-year-olds, and 10 percent of teen victims were sexually assaulted by strangers.

Of course, some people are just skeeved by the idea of someone stealing images of their kids and doing weird stuff with them. The infamous (largely harmless) Brazilian teenage fad of making fake profiles on Orkut comes to mind. Digital photos are easy to take, easy to share and easy to steal. You wanna go back to film? I didn't think so.

Listen, I have been sharing photos of my child online since she was a baby. Nothing has ever happened. NOTHING. Am I lucky? Hell yeah! But statistically, it would seem that I am no more lucky than any other parent who has never had a child abducted or abused. Putting my daughter's photo on facebook, or this blog, carries no more risk than a trip to the playground, maybe even less.

Some other people have given this subject some thought. It's a big subject. Read up. You might need to defend your laissez faire security protocol with a ~~paranoid~~ well-meaning busy body.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-05-26T08:57:00.000-04:00

We had a fine playdate yesterday. It involved a bit of fancy footwear and a few frilly dresses.

Sun Stroke

2010-05-24T14:33:00.000-04:00

So, yeah. Remember when I moaned endlessly about our stupid weather and how it was bumming me out and making me sick? The pollen! The rain! Wah, wah, wah. Well, the sun is like a mother on her last nerve. I took my whining one step too far, as all children do, and the sun gave me a good case of heat stroke as my reward. Today, I am laying low and drinking a lot of water. Violet has permission to consume a few extra freezer pops.

Next weekend I won't spend 3 hours in uninterrupted direct sunlight, with only one bottle of water.

This week's theme at I Heart Faces is Yellow and since I am staying inside enjoying the cool of my living room and my living room just so happens to be yellow...I thought I would participate. Voila!

Private Time and the Single Preschooler

2010-05-21T19:08:00.000-04:00

Last week Violet made her first expression of body shame. After days of dismal chill, we were enjoying a really warm day and I encouraged her to disrobe in the living room. She was sweaty and uncomfortable, but she demurred, "You need to close the blinds first Mama or people will see me."

I was a little sad to see her cross over, but she is almost 5 and I'm glad she figured it out on her own. I prefer for the seed of shame to be a weed, rather than something I deliberately planted. After all, my first priority as a parent is to keep my daughter off the pole and accomplishing that starts with keeping her clothed.

At some point in our parenting journey, the husband and I introduced the phrase Private Time. I'm pretty sure we were talking about pooping, but Private Time has many guises and over the past week or so, Violet has quietly made the association between nudity and Private Time. Like most milestones in her life, she waited to unveil her findings until she was sure she knew what she was doing. I never get to see the wheels turning. She keeps things to herself until she absolutely cannot stand it any longer. It makes for great theater. That much is certain.

This afternoon, the curtain went up on the Private Time Show. The stage was set with a blanket on the floor and an audience of stuffed animals and dolls. I was invited to come upstairs and see what she had been working on and that's when she unleashed the following dialogue on my unprepared ears.

"This is where you have private time, like sex," she said. Pointing to the innocent receiving blanket laid out on the carpet.

"See here, I have the music and you just press his tummy and you have music for your private time." I guarantee the musical Baby Einstein Dragon was not created for this purpose.

"Knuffle Bunny can't wait for private time. Private time is Knuffle Bunny's favorite thing in the whole world. He loves to be naked!"

"You need to have naked stuffed animals around your blanket when you are enjoying private time, NOT humans."

"Stuffed animals are already naked", Violet giggled. "Bear has a ribbon, but he can keep that on for private time."

"Mama, what else can you do when you are having Private time?"

"You know. Private time is just like sex." After this, I ask her what she knows about sex.

"Sex means you are naked." I assure Violet that it's a bit more complicated than that.

"Well, you can jump in the water naked...in the house, when it's not summer. And...you can lay down, without a ponytail, on a blanket on the ground. Naked. NAKED! You can't have private time in the rain. You can only have private time in the house, because the rain can't touch your skin. Well, it can touch your arms, but no where else."

At this point I am just nodding along, waiting for the next epiphany.

"You should ask Mommy and Daddy before you take naked pictures." I'm pretty sure she got that notion from a story about racy cell phone pics on HLN this morning.

"What do you do with the empty spots when you are having private time?" She is referring to the areas surrounding her blanket that are not occupied by stuffed animals, but the adult brain wanders to darker places.

"I should make a jewel collar for my naked time. You have to ask to touch it. You wanna touch it, Mama? It's the most naked collar in the whole world!"

"I need lotion for my private time." I give her permission to use the lotion on the bathroom sink and when she returns she wraps things up.

"Okay. I think I should get naked now."

I'll be in the kitchen, drinking, if you need me.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-05-19T06:20:00.001-04:00

Given our soggy weather conditions, the dress code has been less than formal lately. Since we aren't going anywhere it's been difficult to find the motivation to put on a bra... or pants. Violet seems to be the only one with any spring in her step...

Local Celebrity

2010-05-16T12:53:00.000-04:00

I know I've already mentioned our brush with local fame, but in honor of my first publication as a photographer, I am going to brag again.

Click on over to my photo blog to see what arrived in all the local mailboxes this weekend.

Bloggers Without Makeup

2010-05-14T11:15:00.000-04:00

Bloggers Without Makeup is a meme from across the pond, brought to my attention by MrsW of clinically fed up. MrsW got the idea from Jodie of Mummy Mayhem. Now, I am bringing it to you, my American readers. Spread it around. Twitter it, if you're into that (#BloggersWithoutMakeup).

Basically, by showing ourselves au natural we are sending a message to our kids that we are beautiful just as we are. I don't wear a lot of makeup, but I also don't like to be photographed in my unvarnished state. My daughter has begun to notice that when I whip out the mascara wand, good times are in the offing. I don't want her to think you need to paint yourself to have fun.

So, there you go. I don't look too bad, especially with that nice light shining in my eyes.

Ladies? Gents? Who's next?

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-05-12T11:03:00.000-04:00

The gloom has been thick this week. The sky is gray, the clouds are oppressive. Last night we had a brief, humid respite from the drizzle, but it has returned today with a vengeance and a clap of thunder.
There is very little reason to get out of one's pajamas.

Mother's Day 2010

2010-05-10T13:19:00.000-04:00

Not only was yesterday Mother's Day, but it was also Mama Has a Cold Day. I am sure you are familiar with all the traditions of Mother's Day, but MHACD takes all those lovely rituals and cranks them up a notch...also there is the regal barking of the orders followed by pathetic sneezing and nose wiping. Needless to say, three whole meals were prepared for me in an effort to minimize the whining and the moping. A list of household chores was completed and no one rolled their eyes at me.

I know. The husband is totally whipped, like non-dairy topping and he's all mine.

Seriously. I don't share well.

Late in the day, Violet began whispering urgently in her Daddy's ear about something. They both got very excited and agreed that "it" was a good idea.

Don't you dare try and tell me that her idea was anything but a selfless act of love. Those are not ravenous eyes. I swear, she is simply admiring a good plan brought to fruition.

***************************************

This week over at I Heart Faces, they are Celebrating Mothers. I can think of no greater celebratory food than perfectly ripe, seasonal strawberries wrapped in warm milk chocolate. Really. Don't they just look like tiny red babies all snug in wombs made of chocolate?

Boys and Girls

2010-05-07T09:17:00.000-04:00

Violet has a lot of girlfriends. It is no coincidence that I am also friends with the mothers of these girls. Which came first, the kid-ship or the Mama-ship? I just invented two words. There lies the problem.

Violet has complained long and loud about not having anyone to play with. Oh sure, we have playdates, but that isn't what she means and it has taken me a long time to figure out why. Those playdates, really are like date dates. They are sometimes forced. They are sometimes too long. More importantly, they are always chaperoned.

Playdates with Vi's girlfriends double as Mommy dates. We don't mean to hover, but with eager younger siblings and needy babies and other mitigating circumstances, the playdates end up being too....well, supervised. Kids need to run free and misbehave in benign ways. They need the space to learn how to get away with stuff, like dumping clods of dirt on each others head. They also need to learn how to make it known that they don't like the dirt shower, with their own voice.

**********************************************************************************

The boys moved in next door almost 2 years ago. We've always been friendly. Their Mom is pretty cool, but we each have shit to do and time passes and you just never get around to bringing over that welcome-to-the-neighborhood coffee cake. No matter. Small children can smell each other. They sense a willing playmate from a mile away and no fence will keep them apart.

Our neighborhood is "colorful" and I have always been a bit "paranoid", so we have a high chain-link fence around our whole yard and each of the gates has a padlock. This keeps the marauding thieves from stealing my recyclables and broken lawn mower, but is also keeps other children out of my yard. Until the boys came along, I was just fine with keeping the local spawn out of my yard (remember Hannah?).

The boys would not be kept out of the yard. I spied them scaling the fence and decided to unlock the gates and let them in. They are a bit older than Violet, but they are sweet and funny and appropriately gentle with their preschool playmate; without treating her like something fragile.

And so, the tables have turned. Violet and "her boys" have forced us Mommies to get to know each other better. Last night, I stood in my steeply angled front yard and leaned on the decorative fence chatting with my new friend, while our children did things we would probably tell them not to do if we were really paying attention.

Long after the kids should have been embarking on their nightly rituals, we said goodbye and went in the house. Violet paused in the living room for a moment, a layer of dirt visible on her scalp and said, "I miss the boys."

I think it's going to be a nice summer.

Comments

2010-05-06T14:28:00.000-04:00

I started using Disqus for my comments and now it seems I have broken something. I am working on it. In the meantime, you can tell me how much you love me via e-mail.

heathenfamilyrevival@gmail.com

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-05-05T07:17:00.000-04:00

Some days...it is really hard to be Dorothy. When those munchkins start whining, it's enough to make a girl wanna leave Oz.

Mac Hates Poor People

2010-05-04T16:06:00.001-04:00

I use grocery coupons for three reasons:

They make me look cool.
I like to annoy the lady behind me at the store who apparently wipes her ass with cash and has no use for savings of any kind.
Poverty

Coupon acquisition has long been an issue for me, because I don't want to subscribe to our local paper (please refer to coupon reason #3). I started printing coupons from the internet a few years ago and it has served me well.

Recently, we upgraded our Mac (with money saved by using coupons) to Snow Leopard (think Windows 7, only functional). Everything was fine and lovely and shiny new, until I decided to print some coupons. I brought up my favorite coupon site and picked my products and hit print. My smile faded as it seemed to be taking a long time to process my precious savings. I refreshed. Nothing. I tried a different site. There was nothing but the whirling barber pole of infinite loading.

After much searching and downloading and fiddling and hair pulling, I found a forum for Mac lovers who also love coupons (ah, the internet). It told me not to upgrade to Snow Leopard. Snow Leopard is prejudiced against the coupon printer. It will allow no savings to pass through its icy OS.

Ergo, Mac hates poor people.

*I still love you Mac. We will always be together. I just wish you could learn to accept my relationship with Coupons.com. Let's make-up with a free iPad. Whaddya say?

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-04-28T10:26:00.000-04:00

I got you some chocolate to celebrate Wardrobe Wednesday this week, but somebody stole it.

The police have no suspects.

I Heart Faces - Smiles

2010-04-27T12:47:00.001-04:00

With all the photos I take you'd think genuine smiles would be easy to come by, but they aren't. Violet flashes her her best grins so quickly that they can only barely be seen with the naked eye. As much as I want to capture that elusive Vi Smile, I am also sort of glad that only we get to see the real thing. There are so few things that get to be truly private anymore.

Here is an almost perfect Vi Smile. It's not the real deal, but it's still pretty joyful.

Click me if you wanna see a big version. This little thing is kinda lame.

I Heart Faces has lots of smiles, real and almost real, this week. Go look!

It's Veruca, Miss Salt if You're Spoiled

2010-04-26T16:14:00.001-04:00

You can buy this photo, if you want to.

Along with the whining and general hyper-drive melodrama that has afflicted my child as of late, there is now evidence of spoilage. In fact, Violet has begun to reek like expired cottage cheese. You know, the tub that has been waiting like a bomb in the back of the fridge since before President Obama was inaugurated, that's what Violet has become.

Last week, we were ~~reading magazines for free~~ browsing at our local bookstore and Violet became entranced by the ever growing pile of non-book garbage that clogs the entry way at said "book" store. I referred to this stuff as junk and assured her that she did not need any of it. She became enraged. Her tiny foot struck the faux marble floor with great force and she proclaimed, "It's NOT junk!" I countered with, "It is SO junk!" and things kind of devolved from there. The semantic argument about junk has raged on ever since. I say, "You have enough junk in your room," and Violet replies, "Don't call my toys junk!"

Back to the bookstore: On our last visit, there was a small poodle in it's very own purse that struck Violet's fancy. There are just as many plushies as there are picture books at this store, so we usually have to make a refusal or two, before Violet gets the picture and shuts her mouth. I can accept her mooning about some toy du' jour, but she was relentless about this poodle. She used every word in her vocabulary to make it known that she wanted this stupid dog. She begged, she whined and eventually she just threw herself down and cried about it. I was horrified, not because someone might see and get all judgy about our parenting, but because this toy was soooo not worth a tantrum of this magnitude. If the item in question had been a Coraline doll (her absolute favorite movie), or a 5T replica of Tiana's gown from The Princess and the Frog; I could totally understand Violet's explosion of fury, but the poodle was scarcely bigger than my cellphone and apropos of nothing dear to her heart.

It was at that moment that I realized what was actually going on. Violet doesn't understand that we are in a recession...

Seriously, my kid is spoiled and I have no one to blame but ~~my mother-in-law~~ myself. I knew it was a risk. She is an only child and an only grandchild and fantastically (almost grotesquely) adorable. I just assumed that I would be able to easily squelch her emotional tyranny with a logical conversation about the difference between needs and wants; instead I find myself having arguments about what constitutes "junk" in our household.

I am hoping that 4 years and 9 months is a hot spot for childhood narcissism and that I can look forward to easier days ahead. I can't take much more of this Veruca Salt nonsense.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-04-21T07:17:00.003-04:00

Violet said, "I want this skull Mama. Put it right here."

She is no longer the simple creature who only wanted warmth and milk and a dry behind. The easily persuaded Mistress of Pink is fading. I am starting to see something new peek out around the edges. Not a Big Girl (that decidedly condescending term for the small and recently toilet trained), but just a girl.

Her moods are stormier, her limbs more difficult to fit into the small space of my lap. I now groan involuntarily when I pick her up. I don't have to pretend that she is heavy anymore. Violet flirts constantly with that terrible edge overlooking the land of insufferable brattiness. Everyday, she touches the line and then sprints back to more lovable territory. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I'll Remember You All When I'm Famous

2010-04-16T11:19:00.000-04:00

I've been keeping a little something special under my hat for a few weeks now. I've been waiting for the right time to do a big announcement. I wanted it to be special...then I got bored and decided that I would show you right now. It's all about timing people.

I regularly contribute photos to the Flickr group for Dayton's Metro Parks. I like sharing local photos with local folks. You get more feedback that way. Anyway, a few months ago I got a message from the public relations department at Five Rivers Metro Parks, asking if they could use some of my photos for their upcoming summer bulletin. After I got done squealing and jumping up and down I wrote a very professional response and got the ball rolling to super stardom for my little family.

We met with a PR rep from Five Rivers and did a little interview about how we use the parks to learn and have fun as a family. Violet got her picture taken playing in the Children's Garden and we got a nice copy of the Parkways cover. It was pretty cool. My local readers can expect to find the bulletin sometime next month. If you don't subscribe, you can pick up a copy at the library.

As if that weren't enough, we were informed this week that Violet will also be gracing the cover of a family fun guide.

It won't be long before all the children of Dayton are sporting kitten ears, tiaras and wings.

Forgive My Absence...

2010-04-14T08:08:00.000-04:00

Wardrobe Wednesday has been canceled this week, due to pollen poisoning...

We are all lounging naked in our hermetically sealed living room. Anything that the yellow scourge could possibly adhere to has been placed in the washer or taken outside for burning. I will allow your imaginations to paint this picture for you. Photographs are NOT necessary.

My sister, who lives in the lovely (barren) state of Arizona, called yesterday to inform me that according to her local news; Dayton, Ohio is among the 5 Worst Places to live if trees cause you pain. My pollen problem is national news. The husband no longer believes I am being over-dramatic when I ask him to extract my eyeballs and rinse them under the faucet.

*It took me 20 minutes to type this because of the rapid-fire, machine gun sneezing.

Violet In Wonderland

2010-04-11T08:05:00.000-04:00

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-04-07T09:01:00.000-04:00

Several weeks ago Violet's Grandma went on a dress buying binge. Given my recent sewing obsession, Violet's closet is beginning to look ridiculous. Of course, that did not stop me from making a new outfit for Violet. I spent a week appliqueing t-shirts for the baby girl cousins (No I didn't take picture. Shut up.) and Violet made a few suggestions for her own shirt. Ok. Twist my arm little girl.

I managed to save this for Easter morning. The pleated skirt was actually super easy. The applique? Not so much. Don't let those other craft blogs tell you any different. Applique is HARD.

Alas, this labor of love was overlooked in favor of the purple dress Grandma bought.

I'm not bitter. She looked too cute for me to hold a grudge.

Fort DRAMA

2010-04-06T19:33:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was a Terrible. Horrible. No Good. Very Bad Day.

Violet was fine, Aaron was fine, but I was a walking raw nerve. I was a caricature of hormonal bitchiness. I finally told Violet that I was in a VERY bad mood and although it was not her fault, she should probably obey my every command without complaint. Violet hugged me and then ran away.

Sigh.

After a hideous bedtime routine (complete with a few breaks for deep breathing), I fixed myself a drink and called it a night. I rarely stretch out an estrogen rampage to two days, so I figured going to bed was the best solution.

In the morning Violet began reconstructing the blanket fort that she has been obsessed with for three days. I was feeling much better and, at first, her whiny private speech didn't bother me. I offered words of encouragement and went about my business. Violet continued to grouse about the fort. It wasn't right. It was messed up. The cats wouldn't get out. It kept collapsing. I started taking deep breaths.

I tried to get Violet to work out her structural issues on her own, but she claimed it was too hard. I asked her to remember how the fort looked yesterday, but that was too hard as well. That's when she channeled Macho Man Randy Savage*, picked up a chair and slammed it down in an explosion of rage. I shouted, UNACCEPTABLE! WE DON'T THROW THINGS! and a few other embarrassing parental edicts before remanding Violet to the custody of the time-out chair.

Violet was seething. I would not have been surprised to see steam come out of her nostrils, along with the river of angry snot. I made an honorable attempt at leading her in guided meditation. For a moment Violet calmed down enough to tell me she was floating on a circle shaped cloud. Meditating has worked in the past, but this time it didn't take. She just couldn't keep it together and I was forced to abandon ship. I went upstairs and sat in my bed, while she threw a full body tantrum on the living room floor. My raw nerve was bubbling up to the surface again. It took everything I had to not start shrieking at the top of my lungs in harmony with Violet. I felt a primordial urge to out shout her.

The tantrum went on for about 10 minutes and then it got very quiet. Violet observed a full minute of silence before she started up again, this time with heart-wrenching pleas for cuddles and kisses. Such was my state that I couldn't just go to her. I shouted that she would have to be quiet. I couldn't handle the noise. She agreed and we sat down on the couch to watch an episode of Life.

The birds seemed to sooth her (and me as well), but I thought it best to leave the house and get some distance from the fort. We spent the rest of the afternoon having a perfectly lovely time at our favorite busy park. Violet found some playmates and was cool as a cucumber, even when it was time to leave. Once we got home, whatever grievous imperfections there were about the fort had been forgotten. I haven't got the energy to try and figure out what started this whole mess. For the sake of my mental health, I believe we will be avoiding forts for a few days.

*I have no idea if Mr. Savage ever threw a chair in a match. I couldn't think of any other name.

Dear Easter Bunny

2010-04-03T11:02:00.000-04:00

*Transcribed last night, by Daddy.

Dear Easter Bunny,

I would like to have some jewelry in my Easter basket please. How about some gold pennies. How about a jewelry pony or a pony with some jewelry. Lots of jewelry or a necklace with a picture of a cat. I have a cat named Mittens, I love her. If you have a lot of dollars how about a bracelet. Do you have a lot of toys, do you like little girls? I watched a funny video with a bunny, but its not a real bunny it just eats them. Of course I would like some candy in my basket. I like suckers, and we have none in the house. I'm a pretty little girl named Violet. I like to play dress up. I like you. You are a pretty bunny, and I am your friend. You know; I would like a big huge rainbow diamond on a necklace. I would wash it and take care of it. You have to take care of Jewelry. You should not keep it in a dirty place like the basement with Bob the Dragon. Can you get me some jello jigglers, I ate some and they were good. Just a little bit of chocolate. Chocolate says "I love you". What do you do every week? Play games, video games, Candyland? Do you like Legos? Can you also bring something for my Mom and Daddy? Mommy likes Reese's peanut butter eggs. Daddy likes Mommy. I like movies, sometimes Daddy doesn’t let me watch them. Did you jump on the couch when you were a little kid? My favorite toys are dress up and jewelry. Do you dress up and wear jewels? I think you’re a human that dresses up as a bunny. Do you have fur, like Mittens? She needs her claws out. Do you have claws? Be careful not to step on my toys if you come in my room. I like playing Candyland. I wish I could live in a candy castle. It would be fabulous. Do you know about fabulous? How about bringing something for Mittens, like a chew toy.

Love,
Violet

Happy Easter!

Fun FAIL

2010-04-01T21:19:00.000-04:00

The weather in Ohio can be fickle. We are momentarily taking a break from Spring for a weekend preview of Summer. These "previews" are usually followed by a few days of dreary, miserable, cold conditions, so I insisted that we take advantage of the atmospheric situation and go outside. Yesterday, we made the epic hike to a playground that sits on the highest point in the city. It's not really that far from our house, but it is up hill both ways. Seriously.

Last summer, we only managed the walk a few times, because I got tired of dragging a whining child behind me. This time is was almost effortless. Violet's legs were fresh for the whole walk. She sprinted part of the way. I thought we might have turned a corner.

Just as we were leaving, a pack of little girls came pedaling up on their bikes, followed by a few exhausted adults who had actually carried the wheels up the four sets of hillside steps. Violet froze for a moment and I said we could bring her bike up here some other day. It was time to go.

Today, I got out Violet's bike and found her helmet and packed my backpack for a nice ride to the playground. We got off to a shaky start. Violet has always had trouble coordinating her movements for pedaling things. She is also easily distracted and prone to veering into the grass or the street. It was harder than I had hoped to get her all the way up the hill, but she seemed to brighten when I took over bike duty on the park steps.

When I set the bike back down on the path I noticed the tires felt a little spongy. Actually, they were flat. I had cajoled my child uphill for nearly a mile on flat tires. I said as much...and that was my biggest mistake. Violet refused to ride the now damaged bicycle. She repeated my own words about the soft tires, over and over again.

Worse than that, there were no kids. The pack of little bikers did not return for a second day. There was only a group of surly teenagers who seemed really bummed that I was there. Violet moped. Violet complained. Violet kept checking the horizon for a roving band of preschoolers to come play with her.

It was NOT fun.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-03-31T08:59:00.000-04:00

Violet as the Kitten Queen.

Alphabet Hop

2010-03-30T11:32:00.000-04:00

Because I am a long standing member of the geek community, I have a copy of the game Scattergories. The game comes with a 26 sided alphabet die, that is perfect for all sorts of letter related mayhem.

The first game I invented is called Alphabet Hop. Roll the die and hop to the letter that comes up.

Even the dog can play.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-03-24T09:56:00.000-04:00

When the internet gets me down and my blogging is in a funk, I go old school and make something with my hands...in three dimensions.

Yesterday, I made two skirts for myself and this:

The fabric came from a thrifted skirt that I desperately wanted to wear myself. Alas, it was never to be. I briefly considered liposuction and rib removal, before settling on remaking the skirt into a dress for Vi. I think I made the right decision.

Semi-Annual Blog Drought

2010-03-22T21:38:00.000-04:00

Oh, the blog writing, she goes in cycles.

I am still here.

I'm just not very interesting, at the moment.

Here is a random photograph of me vacuuming, in 1978.

The vacuuming is NEVER over. Seriously.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-03-17T10:22:00.002-04:00

I Heart Faces - Week 11

2010-03-15T08:10:00.000-04:00

Everyone is bundled up over at I Heart Faces this week. It was a rough winter, I know you've got some photos of it!

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-03-10T09:20:00.000-05:00

Violet's baby cousin turns one this month and after the success of my Christmas monkeys, I decided I would make Baby K's birthday gift. Now lest any new readers think I am some sort of overachieving Stepford Mommy; I craft for my health and finances being what they are my therapy must double as gifts for family and friends.

I had the opportunity to raid the clearance rack at Jo-Ann Fabrics a couple of weeks ago and found this gorgeous blue fabric. There wasn't much left on the bolt and Violet would have refused to wear it based on the grounds that it contained no pink, or pink derivatives. It was just the right amount of fabric for a baby dress.

I used two patterns from the book Weekend Sewing by Heather Ross; the Flower Girl Dress and Ruby's Bloomers.

I added the felt flowers to disguise where my sewing machine attempted to eat the dress... I don't to want to talk about it...

I am 100% convinced that this dress is not going to fit, now that it is complete and I have spent all my patience for alterations. There is no elastic, or working fasteners. It just slips on over head. We'll see what happens.

Now these bloomers will fit, of that I have no doubt.

I was going to make the bloomers out of the same fabric as the dress, but there wasn't enough of it. I'm glad because the white eyelet really looks cute. Ahem, now between you and me the fabric for the bloomers is, shall we say, reclaimed. I was at the thrift store and spotted a ladies plus size top made up in white eyelet. It had never been worn and was still crisp from it's original owner. It was, in a word, hideous. I feel like I not only crafted something beautiful out of trash, but prevented some poor woman from making the mistake of wearing that caftan of eyelet. I also reused the elastic from the cap sleeves to make the leg ruffles.

This whole project is a triumph of thrifty-ness. Of course, if it doesn't fit the baby I am going to have to buy a doll big enough to wear it. So, let's all cross fingers, shall we?

Crap I Probably Should Have Figured at New Years

2010-03-08T15:09:00.000-05:00

Okay, self revelatory posts are supposed to be written in January when everyone else is yammering on about making a fresh start. I know, but I am not everyone else. Actually, that is one of the shocking epiphanies to confront me over the past month. I am different. Yes. I am ACTUALLY quite different and not in that self-soothing; "Oh, I just dance to the beat of a different drummer" bullshit that you tell yourself after your Flock of Seagulls haircut has failed to impress your peers. I am made differently and in two important parts of life I have been passive-aggressively attempting to deny my true self, for a long time. I didn't even realize I was doing it.

In the arena of all things religious, I have long labored under the notion that my atheism was entirely private. Don't ask, don't tell. I will deftly evade discussions of God and perhaps even nod in agreement when the situation paints me into a corner. I am not going to talk about not believing. Why rock the boat, right? Well, I went and had myself a baby and all of a sudden that baby needs training up in the ways of relating to other humans and how to be nice and all that stuff you never think about until a tiny voice asks you, "Why did the bird die?" Shit. I'm working on that question with the help of this book and I will probably be talking about this subject a lot more in the future.

Physical fitness is another phantom that I have long avoided making eye contact with. Until I had a baby all that was necessary for me to lose a couple of pounds was to will it into reality. Hmmm, I may have overdone it on the Christmas cookies this year. Well, I should probably eat more sensibly. Poof! Really.

I have never enjoyed organized sports. Okay, with the exception of theater I have never enjoyed organized anything. I just don't. You can't make me. I'm gonna take this book and go read under a tree by myself. Don't follow me! Junior high and high school gym classes were akin to the 9 circles of hell for me. I know that when it comes to kids and fitness, traditional wisdom suggests the promotion of sports and playing. If they are having fun, they won't know it's good for them! Once I reached puberty and my body sprout these comically disproportionate boobs and sent my hormones into dark places, I lost any joy I might have known for sports. I pouted. I protested the injustice of volley ball. I purposely wore mismatched gym clothes and never took them home to be washed. I was told on more than one occasion that my lack of participation would be reflected in my grade. I was not much more cooperative when I took phys. ed. in college, where I was expected to be enthusiastic about learning to monitor my heart rate. Gah! I don't care about optimizing or maximizing or whatever. Is there an option for "feels good and keeps me from huffing on a flight of stairs"?

I am not lazy. I really like being outside and walking. I really wish I had a bicycle. My fondest childhood memories are of taking off alone on my bike and exploring. Are you beginning to see a theme here? When you look for fitness ideas as an adult, they all talk about having a workout buddy or using a video to encourage you to "reach your goals". I struggle to plan dinner. Planning fitness goals is not in my nature.

My husband is currently devoting himself to something called P90X. It is a vicious, video workout regiment, complete with smug muscle heads and incessant pep-talking. Listening to it for even a few minutes causes my brain to itch. I despise a pep talk. SHUT UP! So, I have taken to leaving the house while Aaron tortures himself. On the days when Violet does not accompany me on these walks, I take the ipod. Aaron made me a snarky playlist of inspirational workout music (including the theme from Rocky, which only makes me think of Mr. Mom doing housework and NOT running) and although the music was nice it did not compel me to push myself. Today, I decided that I would listen to the stand-up comedy of Patton Oswald and you know what happened? I had fun. I smiled and tried not to laugh like a crazy person, while I walked the neighborhood at a brisk pace. It was a wonderful escape. I got some exercise and I didn't have to follow anyone else's stupid rules about "working out" and using peer pressure to stay on track. I didn't have to go to a class and no one chirped in my ear about what a great job I was doing. In fact, Patton Oswald talked about his own struggles to be healthy and then joked about putting french fries on top of his cupcakes. Hilarious.

I don't know. Maybe I am rambling. I feel like I just came to a crossroads and decided to jaywalk across the street to my true self. There are way fewer people over here and I think I might keep walking.

Because this Cupcake Kicked My Ass

2010-03-07T09:48:00.000-05:00

I have never before failed to finish a cupcake. I commend you Cloudnine. You have beaten me.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-03-03T10:51:00.000-05:00

I may have crossed the line to obsessive compulsive stitching. I cannot stop sewing. I guess I am crafting Violet's entire spring/summer wardrobe. Or, I am going to have to start giving clothes away to children who pass by on the street. Maybe I'll host a giveaway. We'll see.

I made a skirt last week using this pattern (actually it's a tutorial) I found on Etsy. Can I just take a moment and ponder the joy and wonder that is the PDF pattern/ tutorial? I LOVE that I can pay to download a pattern and print it out in the privacy of my own home. Instant gratification!

The denim portion of this skirt was patched together from two pairs of cast-off Mommy jeans. They were soft and thin. This is not hard-core man denim. Of course, I purchased so much cupcake fabric that scraps of it are in three different garments. I believe this is the last of it. I used some salvaged elastic from a pair of boxer shorts in the waistband and that was a mistake. The weight of the denim really requires a stiffer elastic. This skirt was really fun to make and it leaves me wondering if I might be able to make a Mama sized version. I detest zippers, but elastic waistbands are not flattering on me, so this might be a nice compromise. We shall see.

I Heart Faces - Week 9

2010-03-01T09:13:00.000-05:00

Oh, sweet Violet. Your spindly legs are just the right length for unintentionally kicking Daddy in the nads. I have erased countless versions of this photograph. Luckily, these two were spared the trash can.

I seem to capture a lot of these moments, when love truly hurts. Here is one from a family photo shoot. Luckily, her Daddy was only temporarily blinded.

Week 9 is all about Hilarious Outtakes at I Heart Faces. Dive deep into the archives and pull out those accidentally funny photos. Nose picking and surprise baby fountains are welcome!

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-02-24T05:58:00.001-05:00

I love a good pair of blue jeans. My strange, uneven hips are often a source of distress for me when choosing denim, so when I find a pair of pants that fit and look attractive I do all I can to extend their life. I've been known to visit all 7 stages of grief when a beloved pair of dungarees finally meets the scrap pile (Taps playing softly in my mind). After all, they were a labor of love.

Violet has similar issues when it comes to pants. Although the situation is improving, her rear end remains comically inadequate to hold up anything without the assistance of elastic.

She is also long-legged. I have actually abstained completely from purchasing blue jeans for Violet, because they never fit and she never wants to wear them. How is it then that I have a drawer full of jeans in need of alteration? My hand-me-down hook-up dresses her children almost exclusively in pants. She actually has an amusing habit of saving dresses for special occasions and then never putting them on her daughter, due to her crippling fear of stains. I get a lot of jeans in various stages of decomposition and a fair number of dresses that have been worn only once, if at all.

The winter has been cruel enough that I have forced Violet to wear pants way more often than she would like. In order to make them work I have had to do a little creative re-construction.

Holey knees do not keep the wind chill out, so I crafted some decorative patches to reinforce the threadbare denim. These will eventually get the ankle treatment when Violet's legs shoot out again.

The above pants are a 3T, with the elastic taken in an inch. I KNOW! Thankfully, I have a touch of hoarding in my blood and fabric scraps abound for projects like these. I can lengthen and patch pants for years to come.

I think it's a little sad that this kind of clothing repair has fallen out of fashion. It is another casualty of the ultra-cheap clothing market. Walmart, Target, KMart! I'm lookin' at you. I am not innocent. I have purchased many $5 t-shirts in my time, but I really enjoy the challenge of making something last. Violet has an ever evolving wardrobe of "forever" clothes; things that just need a little length or a bit of patching to keep being useful.

Now, if only I could figure out how to make snow boots from recyclables, I'd really be in business.

Desperately Seeking Spring

2010-02-23T16:15:00.000-05:00

I Heart Faces: Week 8

2010-02-22T08:55:00.000-05:00

This is the shot I wish I had taken of my own child's hand when she was a newborn. I have become a bit of a newborn stalker amongst my friends and acquaintances. I love photographing them, especially their wrinkly hands and feet. Oh, and newborns are REALLY cooperative.

It's all about hands at I Heart Faces this week. Click the camera. Go look.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-02-17T08:18:00.000-05:00

I don't wear a lot of makeup. My skin is sensitive and oily and after a couple of hours I look worse than I would have if I went naked faced. I like mascara and lip gloss and I will powder my nose if I want to look real fancy. Besides, I don't go anywhere, so why bother?

My dear friend M is an executive with a big company and wears makeup everyday. This daily application of paint, has not gone unnoticed by her children. On a recent outing together, the battle cry of K-girl and Z-man was MAKEUP (yes, the boy wants some too). Mama was supposed to make a stop at Ulta and they were thrilled at the prospect of acquiring something new for themselves. Violet began chiming in as well, because MAKEUP must be awesome if you are going to yell about it in all caps, right? Well, the day did not go quite according to plan and we had to improvise with a quick stop at Sally Beauty to appease the tiny, raging beauty queens. I stayed in the van with the kids, because the boy had passed out and needed to stay that way. Oh, and Sally Beauty is but a tiny little shop and these girls would have ransacked that place in their bloodthirsty quest for MAKEUP. When M got back with matching bargain bin eyeshadow palates for the girls, the colors immediately reminded me of a black-eye. I told the girls we could give each other black eyes at our next playdate.

Violet still doesn't really know what MAKEUP is all about, and I'd like to keep it that way for awhile. I am also keeping her in the dark about chewing gum and sneakers that light up, so you know...

Blanky and Cranky

2010-02-16T13:50:00.000-05:00

*I am going to whine. Right here, right now. Look away if this offends you.

I am done. I don't know what to do about it or how to resolve my done-ness, but done I am. Done! Done, I tell you!

It did not snow that much in 2009, or 2008. It probably didn't snow a whole lot in 2007 either. I don't remember, because any snow we had disappeared pretty quickly. There were long breaks between snow storms. It was not SNOMAGEDON. Violet played outside in the snow for less than 10 minutes in 2007. She did not like it. In 2008, she "helped" shovel a bit and watched a snow plow nearly bury her and her father on the sidewalk. Last winter, I brought snow into the house and let her play with it in the sink after she was too cold to play outside. My point is, snow gear has never been necessary. Our brief forays into the yard or the journey from front door to car, were not enough to justify the purchase of snow boots and snow pants. Also, you have to buy the snow boots and pants in October, because that's when the asshole retailers put them out. So, it's a pricey gamble. Will it snow this winter? What size will the child expand to by the time snow starts piling up?

Violet has no snow boots, no snow pants and a "fashion" winter coat (the same goes for her parents, BTW). No one in our circle of friends has any outgrown snow gear to pass down. There are NO boots, or pants to be found in stores. We are utterly unprepared for an extended winter wonderland.

The members of the Heathen Family are prisoners in their own home.


She's wearing four pairs of pants & they were all soaked through.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-02-10T05:50:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I let Violet pick out fabric for a new dress. My original intent was to make a dress from this pattern I bought on Etsy. Unfortunately, the pattern calls for 54 inch wide fabric and well...I didn't think Violet would look good in upholstery cloth. The drafter of the pattern uses recycled and reclaimed fabric almost exclusively, so I'll return to it when I get some good vintage sheets.

Patterns were on sale while we were at Jo-Ann's, so I found a different dress to make. Violet was patient for about the first 10 minutes of this excursion and then she started moaning on the floor about it taking too long. When I handed her a pattern catalog, she immediately began demanding that I make her a series of ever more ridiculous items from the costume section.

I settled on this, because I like patterns that have a lot of options for customization.

Violet refused to take the tights off for this photo and insisted that she pose like a "queen".

I'm not sold on the dress. It fits weird and the sleeves are too puffy. We did a good job collaborating on the fabrics and Violet is not bothered by the wonky shape of the garment, so I'll let it go. I don't know if I'll make another though.

I was inspired to make something simpler, using scraps from the under dress. I frequent a blog called indietutes and she has posted a free tutorial on how to make a basic peasant blouse. It is a terrific formula for making shirts and dresses. It's really easy to adjust and sew. She also wrote the aforementioned pattern requiring 54 inch fabric.

Perhaps I'm still drunk on last night's final installment of Emma on PBS, but I think this looks just a 19th century child's dress. The brown fabric is a deliciously soft hunk of fabric cut from the sheets that graced my bed for 2 years. When Vi put it on she said, "Oooh, silky." It is. I might save the top sheet for myself.

Half Time Entertainment

2010-02-09T11:24:00.000-05:00

I suffer from a chronic indifference to football. I willingly watch one game a year and that game is the Super Bowl. I make snacks and drinks and get up to pee in between commercials. Ever since the whole Janet Jackson nipple slip, I try to watch the half-time show, just in case. It's really just about keeping pace with our vapid pop culture.

The Who's performance on Sunday was underwhelming. There were no wardrobe malfunctions or surprise performances from Britney Spears. It sounded like the opening credits of CSI Miami played in a loop for the duration of the show. Violet was far more entertaining.

I don't know why she's only wearing tights.

Seriously, it's not worth trying to figure out. Sometimes art cannot be explained with words.

*Actually, the outcome of the Super Bowl was moving, even to my cold, indifferent heart. A grown man crying with a baby in his arms under a torrent of confetti gets me every time. My husband decided that if the Saints won the game, we would go to New Orleans for our big anniversary trip. I rooted for them inspite of myself.

On a Snowy Saturday

2010-02-06T13:46:00.000-05:00

Upon opening my back door at 7 AM I was greeted with this:

Two hours later, we indulged in a family sing-along with Bohemian Rhapsody:

One cat watched helplessly, while the other was manhandled:

There was some much begged for doll play:

The ladies of the house watched while Daddy shoveled the snow outside. There was some verbal taunting and a little snow was thrown in the general direction of the big window:

How's sno-magedon treating you?

(zero) Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-02-03T07:30:00.001-05:00

Perhaps I keep the thermostat set too high. It seems that at least one member of our household would rather go naked. While I shiver, she shimmies throughout the house in her birthday suit. She shrieks with delight when I give in to her demands for sleeping sans jammies. The streaking has left me with very few options for Wardrobe Wednesday. I'd rather not draw the attention of CPS to my blog, so these carefully cropped poses will have to do.

Quoth the Violet

2010-02-01T09:54:00.000-05:00

Last night after watching the Grammys, I took a swig of Nyquil and headed to bed. Aaron took his sleeping pill, so we were pretty much unreachable after 20 minutes. About midnight, I remember seeing a blurry shape standing next to the bed. The shape claimed to be my child and wanted in the big bed. I was powerless to stop her, but I went on with my usual strategy and asked the kid why she needed to sleep with us.

Vi: There's no clock in my room. I can't tell what time it is.
Me: {{aggleflaggle}} You don't know how to tell time, baby.
Vi: I know Mama.
Me: {{{{whoompyflappy}} {{{snore}}}

I woke to a completely naked sleeping child between me and my husband. Her clothes were piled on top of the blankets, alongside the cat.

************

There's a fun new blog called Things My Child Says and if you click over you can read another bit of wisdom from my Violet. Submit something too, while you're there.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-01-27T10:16:00.000-05:00

Yeah, yeah, yeah, she's cute in her light-up glasses. It's not about the glasses. Take a look at that precision french braid across Violet's head. She can sleep in that bad boy and it doesn't budge. This may seem like a small accomplishment to some, but Violet's bangs have been the bane of my existence since late 2006. Barrettes fall out, head bands just FAIL and cutting requires more maintenance than I have the patience for. I will not pay someone to cut the bangs for me. THAT would be madness in my mind, considering I barely get myself in for a haircut when necessary. I am also no good at french braiding. My crafty fingers turn to clumsy vienna sausages when faced with manipulating fine hair into orderly plaits. The forehead braid, however, seems to be my strong suit. With just the right amount of dampness, I can wrangle the hair comfortably and not have to worry about it falling into Violet's cereal the next morning.

2003 Kelly would have started daydreaming about old episodes of Friends about halfway through this conversation.

Sigh.

*I guess I do need a vacation. Thanks for all the advice, by the way.

Twenty-Ten is for Lovers

2010-01-26T16:15:00.000-05:00

It is now the year 2010 ( it sounds better when you pronounce it twenty-ten, okay) and that means I will soon celebrate ten years of wedded bliss with Aaron. Ever since we failed to make a big deal out of our fifth anniversary (what with the lactating and the post-partum crazies), it has been written that our tenth will be commemorated with all the pomp and circumstance that it deserves.

This does NOT mean we are having a party. I can think of nothing I would enjoy less than planning and executing an event where our respective families could keep their distance from each other; much like boys and girls at a junior high dance with the added bonus of my mother telling everyone about her latest surgery and laundry list of psych meds. That's what Violet's birthday is for.

Aaron and I would really like to take a kid-free vacation and by "vacation" I mean 4 or more consecutive days in lodgings not located in Ohio, Pennsylvania or Michigan. Aaron has had it stuck in his head for the entire length of our marriage that we should really go to one of those all inclusive resorts. He loves the idea that you can pay for absolutely everything ahead of time and then spend a week being waited on and never worrying about the location of your wallet. For a time, he even thought it would be awesome to go to a Hedonism resort (adults only, clothing optional). It sounds great, except we are not beach people, not even a little bit. Neither of us enjoys water sports. I am literally terrified of snorkeling and SCUBA diving. Aaron has strong feelings about appearing in public without a shirt on and I am not my best, most confident self while wearing a bathing suit. In fact, I am physically uncomfortable in swimwear. Also, our trip will likely take place in the late summer/early fall and it will still be pretty hot in Dayton, so a tropical vacation would be sort of redundant.

The thing that has Aaron stuck on this resort idea is money. Resort vacations are cheap and you generally know up front about every penny you will be expected to spend. I get that, but a bargain isn't really a bargain if you aren't getting what you want or need. Unfortunately, Aaron is so stressed and so tired from school and work, that he is starting to view this vacation as medicine or therapy or eating healthy vegetables you don't like the taste of. It MUST be done, or we will die.

The entire argument about where to go on a trip is ridiculous because we actually agree on where we would like to go. New York City. In our wildest fantasies the trip would include tickets to the U.S. Open and a few broadway shows. That's what we really want to do, but Aaron fears it would be too expensive and NOT relaxing enough. Aaron's definition of "relaxing" involves a lot of reading/napping with periodic interruptions for food and beer. I could do that for a day or two, but then I would be bored and my boredom would lead me to pine for my child and that would lead to imagining all of the horrible accidents that might happen while we are apart, which would inevitably cause me to contemplate how sad and lonely her life would be if both her parents were killed in a fiery plane crash over the Bermuda Triangle. Not exactly an aphrodisiac, if you know what I mean.

I guess I'm asking for help. Have you been someplace nice and relaxing, but also interesting and un-sandy? Should we chuck the whole thought of a romantic getaway and take the baby to Disney World? Help!

Bear with Me, it all Makes Sense in the End

2010-01-21T13:48:00.000-05:00

Yesterday the dog got a bath. Normally this can be done in the kitchen sink, but it was cold so Aaron took her upstairs to the bathroom. With the door shut we can keep it pretty warm for our elderly 5 pound pup. It was uneventful and Pixie smells much better now.

Violet's kitten is looooong overdue for a fixin'. We are enduring our second bout of all night caterwauling. Even Violet's sleep has been disturbed by Mittens and her cries for love. I heard a version of myself yelling from baby girl's room last night, "Now. That. Is. Enough." If only money grew on trees, we would send Mittens to the vet right now for a little spa treatment. Ahem.

On Thursdays we have our homeschool playgroup and I usually get up early so that I can shower and consume enough coffee. My bladder is very sensitive to caffeine. I need an extra hour for peeing if I plan to leave the house in the morning.

Today I got up even earlier because I could no longer pretend that I might actually sleep through the kitten's shrieking. I carefully gathered some clothes in the dark, so as not to wake Aaron and headed for the bathroom. I piled the clothes on the floor and turned on the shower.

A blast of cold water hit me right in the face. I was so confused. For a moment I became convinced that I was dreaming. The spray kept coming and blinking through the torrent of water I could see that Aaron hadn't returned the shower nozzle to it's proper position. I wrestled it back into place and turned the water off. My pajamas and my neat pile of clothes were now all wet.

With my compassion washed away I burst into the bedroom and flipped on the big, bright, overhead light. There was some screaming from the blinded man in my bed and then I felt better.

The End.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-01-20T09:18:00.000-05:00

This is how Violet dressed to go see The Princess and the Frog last weekend. Due to the then present blanket of snow on the ground I did require her to add some layers. What I really like about this outfit is that she decided to use Wonder Woman's belt in place of the gold lame` cape that comes with this dress. It shows good sense that she would make the ensemble a bit more casual for our afternoon at the movies.

Can I just tell you how much I love going to see a movie with an audience full of children? I'm not being sarcastic. I mean little children, not those annoying pre-adolescent things. They just get so excited and they giggle so infectiously. You can't help but be happy in a theatre full of laughing kids. A long time ago, before Violet was born, we saw a Harry Potter film in a jam packed theatre. A boy of about 5 or 6 was sitting next to me and just as the movie began he looked up at me and said, "I'm Harry Potter." His eyes were so wide and he was so blissed out on magic; I just wanted to kidnap him. I did not, but his little face is forever tucked away in a little happy corner of my brain.

Have you noticed that I make Violet stand in the dog's bed for nearly every Wardrobe Wednesday photo I take? What can I say? The light is always good in that spot.

I Heart Faces - Week 3

2010-01-18T09:42:00.000-05:00

I do not get many opportunities to artfully photograph families. Oh, I get lots of kid group shots, but the frazzled adults always seem to disappear when portrait time comes along. I understand. Showering is not priority one, survival is. It's hard to convince a greasy, tired mama that the radiant light of love between her and her children is enough to make her presentable for photographs. Dads are less persnickety about their appearance and easier to catch, especially when they are stuck holding the baby who may scream for his mother at any second.

This week's theme is "We Are Family" at I Heart Faces. They want grown-ups in the photos too, no unsupervised gangs of babies need apply.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-01-13T07:39:00.002-05:00

The snow madness has begun to set in around here. We don't have it as bad as you northern folks, but this is an unusual amount of ~~misery~~ snow for Southern Ohio and we like to whine about it.

Violet has coped with her shut-in status as you would expect her to.

Daddy has suffered the brunt of Violet's whimsy.

There are 8 layers to this look; each one more important than the last.

marabou boa
layered head bands
extra barretts
Dorothy costume
bracelets/ ponytail holders
ill-advised sharp plastic sword
inner arm tattoo, or tuttoo as the kids are calling them these days

8. scrunchy ankle bracelets

This is an ensemble designed to defy logic, boredom and the winter blues. It seems to be working on all counts.

Remembering to be Curious

2010-01-12T12:15:00.000-05:00

When was the last time you re-examined an ordinary object? There are so many things that just get cast aside and forgotten. Sadly, they go unexplored, like junk mail that gets thrown away without ever being opened.

Take for example the humble little silica gel pack that comes with every purse or tote bag you buy. Have you ever opened one? If not, why? Is it because the tiny package screams THROW AWAY DO NOT EAT?

Violet came downstairs yesterday with a tiny cup of liquid and asked us to help her "solve the mystery". I smelled it and guessed correctly that it contained soap from our bathroom sink. It also had a gritty substance in the bottom. Violet stirred it with one of the 10,000 striped drinking straws that she keeps stashed about the house and asked us (again) to solve the mystery. Aaron and I looked closer and saw tiny, clear beads amid the grit and soap bubbles.

"Where did these come from Violet?" A tiny bit of panic was hidden in my voice. I imagined gutted beanie babies and snipped costume jewelry.

"It came from the craft room. I opened a little package." Violet was not the least bit concerned, only curious.

I went up to the craft room and found an opened silica gel pack on Vi's desk. She had very neatly cut it with her safety scissors.

After we interrogated our child to make sure she had, in fact, not ingested any silica; we fished some beads out of the cup for a better look.

Mystery solved.

I Heart Faces - Week 2

2010-01-11T09:04:00.000-05:00

Well, I've been a bit absent from i heart faces as of late, but I have renewed photographic inspiration and ...okay, I'm a little bored too, but that doesn't make me any less inspired. It just means that I don't have any other projects distracting me from ~~obsessing~~ thinking about photos. It is also i heart faces' birthday and it would be rude not to send them my Best Face Photo.

This would be Violet's interpretation of excited wonderment...not really. I think she was telling a poop joke about a chicken who crossed the road because he had...you-know-what on is head. I guess you had to be there.

It's the lights in her eyes and the lashes that made this one pop for me.

Go visit i heart faces and see a bazillion other Best Faces. Go on.

Not Living Up to Her Middle Name

2010-01-08T22:49:00.000-05:00

My daughter's middle name is Picabo, as in Picabo Street; the well decorated Olympic downhill skier. Because I am a great lover of winter sports as viewed from my warm couch, I became enamored of Picabo during her final games. If she had won her last gold medal, Violet's first and middle names might have been reversed. I did some skiing of my own in high school, but with age I have gained not only wisdom, but a much lower tolerance for extreme temperatures. I could go all winter without so much as a passing urge to play in the snow, but I am not 4 years old and suffering from cabin fever. Yesterday, Aaron made a sledding play date for Violet with our neighborhood friends. This was fine despite Violet's lack of winter wear or a sled, because these friends were going to share their gear. Well, vomit happens and the play date got canceled.

I might have breathed a sigh of relief, but Daddy decided that we could go sledding by ourselves. We just needed to stop at Walmart and pick up a sled. I suspected that Walmart would fail us, as it always does, and gathered a few items to use as makeshift sleds (southern Ohio stores are notorious for not stocking sleds). Why not turn this into a homeschool lesson about what will hurl you down a hill and what will not?

An oversized IKEA shopping bag with cardboard stuffed in the bottom will NOT send you down the hill.

Nope. Still doesn't work. Also note: lids from Rubbermaid containers do NOT make good sleds.

You know what does work? Sleds borrowed from nice teenagers who try not to laugh at your pathetic attempts to sled with random household objects.

Borrowed sleds actually work too well. The once fearless Violet began to rethink her whole daredevil lifestyle. Hurtling down a frozen hill at breakneck speed with a 200 pound man is apparently my daughter's threshold for terror.

Aaron ended up pulling Violet around in a laundry basket (I told you. Random household objects.) She was too traumatized to use the real sled again*.

*Furthermore, she was too cold. Her stylish faux suede coat and boots were no match for the wet snow, despite the grocery bag liners I expertly stuffed her feet into. We lasted 20 minutes on that hill.

A Shaky Start and a Strong Finish

2010-01-07T19:23:00.000-05:00

I rang in the new millennium at a monumentally lame party thrown by friends of my roommate/boyfriend/mouth-breathing loser. They were nice enough people, but they weren't people I'd call my friends. For fun they had their very own War of 1812 regiment. On weekends this crowd pretended to kill each other whilst wearing realistic costumes and sleeping in vintage tents on the wet ground. Like I said, nice people, but I like to keep my costume wearing confined to the play acting/ Halloween party milieu.

Anywho, the whole ushering in of the 2000s was a bit underwhelming. None of the computers failed. Money was in my checking account the next day and a meteor did not collide with the earth to put me out of my lingering 90s misery. The disappointment I felt as the ball dropped us into a new century shook me into reevaluating my life and where I wanted it to go. I looked at my drunk mouth-breather and thought, "Nope. Not the direction I'm looking for."

By June I made it clear to my boyfriend that I would be leaving Toledo (without him) and he should conduct himself accordingly. I resigned from my job and accepted my aunt's offer of shelter in Dayton.

I was 23. Sigh.

As I was unemployed and virtually without responsibility for a few weeks, I spent some time taking up space at a Borders bookstore. One afternoon, a well-known local psychic was giving readings in the cafe. A dramatic shift in one's life tends to open the flood gates to the contemplation of fate and what-will-become-of-me, so I plunked down $5 to buy a glimpse into my future.

I am not a believer in God, or true love or unalterable fate, but ESP and telepathy and all that super-natural hogwash fascinates me. I love it. I have a set of tarot cards in my bedside drawer. Now you know.

In short, the psychic predicted that children would be very important in my life and that I would have some soon. Ha! With what sperm donor, kind lady? The man I was to marry would turn up shortly, but there would be some confusion for me. Apparently, two men were to come into my life at about the same time and I would have to choose. The psychic assured me that the right choice was going to be obvious. Then she said some eerily accurate stuff about my dead grandmother and great-grandmothers and freaked me out enough to think she might be onto something with this husband business.

In July, I got a job at a different bookstore (the venerable, no longer independent Books & Co.) and swiftly began dating the staff Casanova (super nerdy bookstore version). It was fun, but awkward. Our conversations seem to sputter to halt when we weren't making out. No one, including myself, thought it would develop into anything serious because it was sort of a rite of passage for new girls to take their turn with this guy.

In August, Casanova left town to visit friends and I felt weird about it. No other way to put it. That's when I met Aaron. He was sloppy and tired and sad and I knew immediately that I should stay away from him. Yet, he drew me to him. During our first conversation he asked me if I had a husband or boyfriend or illegitimate children. I reluctantly agreed to go out with him, right after he admitted to me that he was lonely because his fiance left him a month before their wedding. I know. A giant red-flag sprout from his head and I said yes anyway. The psychic made me do it. I had to figure out which guy was the obvious choice. I sorta thought the date with Aaron was going to confirm my suspicion that Casanova was the best choice. I was 6 weeks out from 24th birthday.

The rest is history. I married Aaron on my birthday and never broke up with the other guy (the gossip took care of that for me). Ahem.

This whole post was just a bloated introduction to my favorite photo, as requested by MrsW. She thought for sure it would be a picture of Violet, but I'm nothing if not unpredictable (actually I'm totally predictable, usually).

Newlywed and looking forward to a great adventure. We were naive and blissfully unaware of how tough and wonderful and shitty and spectacular the aughts would be... and our hair matched. This photo is our beginning in a neat, tidy little package. It makes my heart flutter.

What is your favorite photo? Preferably it is one taken by yourself or a member of your immediate family, but I suppose if an Ansel Adams still makes you weak despite all the gorgeous pictures of your loved ones, then whatever, I'm not here to judge.

Show me, with or without a lengthy exposition. I love to see what you love. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy, like I do right after my second Pomegranate Martini.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2010-01-06T09:49:00.001-05:00

She was totally serious about this look. I can't imagine how sweaty her feet were encased in thick tights, frilly polyester anklets and those pleather flats. Maybe she channels the body heat up to warm her arms. All day long I just shiver looking at her lack of long sleeves.

So, I have a new blog roll just for folks who participate in Wardrobe Wednesday. If you don't see your link, let me know and I'll add it. Honor system. I'm not going to check and make sure you participate every week. I know that sometimes the kids look normal and that's no fun to post.

I Heart Faces

2010-01-05T22:09:00.000-05:00

I Heart Faces is celebrating their First Birthday with a great contest and giveaway. Notice my sneaky placement of logos in all my photos. I'm pretty pleased with myself. Go see some more lovely faces and enter your own. You could win a new lens for your camera!

I am submitting this photo into the I Heart Faces logo photo contest. By entering, I am granting I Heart Faces LLC permission to consider my photo for use in the marketing and promotion of their website.

What Sunday Looks Like

2010-01-03T21:03:00.001-05:00

Spun Gold Sprout Right from Her Little Head, originally uploaded by violet tintype.

The early sun comes into my front window. By mid-morning it lights up Violet's hair as she plays. I love the way she glows. I love how Violet warms herself in the slowly shifting patch of brightness on my floor. On lazy Sundays I am reminded how madly in love I am with this girl. Her Daddy and I could get drunk on her laughter.

This is why I learned how to take photographs. I desperately want to remember this, all of it. Static, sunshine, pinwheels and monkey pajamas. My baby will be grown up way too soon, but this image will never change.

Year End Dip into the Deep End of Self-Absorption

2009-12-31T14:56:00.000-05:00

Here is the obligatory year-end questionnaire that you've all been waiting for. Some of my links have pretty photos and some of them just direct you to re-read my greatest literary triumphs.

Ahem, this is an exercise in egomania after all.

1. What did you do in 2009 that you’d never done before?
    I had a brain fracturing double ear infection and I photographed a wedding.
2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
   I don't make resolutions, but I did manage to FAIL at Project 365 and still take more photos than
   I ever have before. I just didn't do it everyday.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
   Yes, two friends birthed babies this year. Here's one.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Our dear friend's baby boy Liam died.
5. What countries did you visit?
Does watching Love Actually a dozen times count as a tip to London?
6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
     Sweet Baby Jesus I would like to have my own car again!
7. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Standing in the bitter February cold to say goodbye to Liam. Seeing my best friend get married and
    getting tears in my camera's view finder.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Becoming a better photographer. See!
9. What was your biggest failure?
   Wii Fit.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
   Oh boy! 2009 was second only to 2005 for pain and suffering.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Hmmm, that's a toss-up between the sewing machine and the camera.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
We were all very well behaved considering the turbulence.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
The vast right-wing/ evangelical hate machine, Obama haters, etc.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Food and gas.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
   My new camera and Christmas.
16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
The song from Vi's dance recital and her own mash-up of the Annie soundtrack.
Tomorrow, the Chorus Only Edition from Kelly on Vimeo.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? same
b) thinner or fatter? thinner, maybe I'm just delusional
c) richer or poorer? just as poor as ever
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Playing with Violet, walking outside.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Idle internet wandering.
20. How did you spend Christmas?
At home with my two favorite people, sleep deprived and over-stimulated.
21. Did you fall in love in 2009?
I fell in love with my life this year. Watching the financial world crumble and people's lives tumble
    as a result, I became truly aware of just how lucky I am. I am living my dream. It is imperfect and
    messy and cash poor, but it is all I have ever want or need.
22. What was your favorite TV program?
The Daily Show and The Soup are always there, but I can't get enough 30 Rock and Modern Family.
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Who has the energy to hate?
24. What was the best book you read?
Read? I sort of stopped reading in 2009. Oh, wait. The Naked Mole Rat Gets Dressed was pretty
    awesome.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
The Mother Goose Rocks collection. The Mulberry Bush song by Gwen Stufunny is sweeeeet!
26. What did you want and get?
Almost everything I asked for. Some say I am spoiled, but I never ask for more than is possible.
27. What did you want and not get?
I really need either a boob job or a personal brassiere seamstress.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
500 Days of Summer
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
33. I ate some cupcakes and celebrated 9 years of marriage.
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
My own FREAKIN' car. Really, it's my only complaint.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
I would say that I was dressed more often in 2009 than I was in 2008 and by dressed I mean wearing
    a bra and non-elastic waist pants.
32. What kept you sane?
   Making things.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
   I guess I could have taken a bite out of Hugh Jackman or Daniel Radcliff (he's legal now!).
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Health care. Grrrr, hissssssss. I don't wanna talk about it.
35. Who did you miss?
My sister and her kids. My Dad.
36. Who was the best new person you met?
   We met a whole new fabulous family, who then introduced us to more fabulous new people. It was
    a banner year for making friends.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009.
NEVER take vicodin or bactrim, unless you enjoy vomiting. NEVER give a 4 year old unfettered
access to glitter. Potato peels WILL sprout anywhere.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger...
    Sure, it's cheesy and cliche, but it's true. I don't believe in regret, but I do wish I had been more
    present sometimes. I need to remember to live in the moment.

Breakfast Casserole is Not a Feast for the Eyes

2009-12-29T11:05:00.000-05:00

@randomblogette asked for my breakfast casserole recipe. Actually, it isn't mine. I stole it from some anonymous cook on the internet and it's less of a recipe than a method.

The original list of ingredients:
32oz bag of frozen hash browns
1 lb of sausage, cooked
1 lb of bacon, cooked
8 oz shredded cheddar cheese
1 diced onion
12 eggs, beaten
salt, pepper, dry mustard

This is ridiculous, non? I was only feeding three people and one of them was unlikely to eat it (Violet, ahem). I cut this recipe in half, omitted the bacon and substituted red pepper for onion. I added onion powder, because frozen potatoes tend to be kind of flat tasting. I also used the diced variety of potatoes because the shredded kind NEVER taste good under my care.

Basically, you just layer this like a lasagna in your crock and then pour the eggs over the whole thing. My layers were: potato, peppers, sausage, cheese. I added the spices directly to the eggs.

The full recipe requires 10-12 hours on low, but my half recipe was a little over done. 8 hours would have been better for mine. Oh, and it is NOT pretty. Close your eyes. Do not look directly at the casserole. Just eat it. Notice, I did not photograph this. It would have looked like those awful photos you find in old microwave cookbooks.

I will do it again next year. It was hearty and required no effort on my part. Add a timed coffee maker and you can enjoy a fine breakfast without delaying any of the wrapping paper carnage on Christmas morning.

If you make your own, let me know how it turns out, m'kay.

Christmas In a Nutshell

2009-12-28T13:38:00.000-05:00

'Twas the Night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was sleeping...because mother and child have a genetic commonality that makes it impossible to turn one's brain off after reaching a certain critical mass of anticipation. There was no way that was ever going to rhyme, but like I said I haven't gotten enough sleep in the last 10 days, so I'm a bit punchy.

I engaged in a crafting sprint to the finish on Christmas Eve. Photo cubes, magic wands, monkeys and matching nightgowns for Vi, Knuffle Bunny and Baby Rojo.

It was my intent to totally exhaust myself, so that I would fall asleep easily, but it didn't work. We were awake at 5:30 AM on Christmas. The smell of my crockpot breakfast casserole probably did not make it any easier to stay in bed, so we all stumbled down the steps at 6 to see what the big guy left us.

I was an orgy of wrapping paper and glitter. The glitter has been so thoroughly tracked through my house that I am now finding it in my underwear. NEVER leave a craft happy four year old alone in a room with a vial of gold glitter. Daddy has born the brunt of the glitter onslaught, largely due to his Christmas bling.

Violet said Daddy needed a "big ol' Daddy necklace" for Christmas. Done.

Mommy got this little hunk of high tech crack after Daddy bullied T-Mobile into letting us upgrade a month ahead of schedule.

It's a Samsung Memoir and IT IS FULLY AWESOME!

Despite family wide fatigue, we continued the day's festivities with my in-laws. There were more presents there and Violet and her cousin showed definite signs of Holiday PTSD. Fabulous gifts were unwrapped and met with cold, blank stares. Later, the girls could be seen rending their garments and crying out for a nap.

The monkeys were a big hit though and my faith in love and humanity was restored.

I was asked by Aaron's Aunt to take family portraits for her. I'm telling you. You buy a big fancy camera and suddenly everyone recognizes your artistic genius. They turned out nice, but I'm not going to out the in-laws online, so here is the photo I am sure certain people wish we would have used on our Christmas card.

Notice how my child looks like a drunk sorority girl after a Halloween party. That's when you know it is time to go home and take a rest, before the next round of gifts.

Christmas continues for us this coming weekend, when the out of town presents get opened at my Aunt's house. Hopefully, Violet will sober up by then. For now, she's recuperating with her most extravagant gift.

Oh, and this also happens to be my 400th post. Thanks for reading and commenting and generally validating my very existence. There will be many more to come in 2010, unless someone convinces me to shut up.

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-24T13:37:00.000-05:00

I sent Violet upstairs to put on something pretty, for Christmas Eve. We aren't going anywhere, but "pretty" is a motivator and I thought we should try to get out of our pajamas today. On the way up the steps she must have changed "pretty" to "super" in her little head, because she came back down in this get-up. I've cropped the photo for modesty's sake, this being Violet's Halloween costume from 2008. She's like a foot taller than she was when we got the costume, so it's actually much closer to Linda Carter's uniform than it was intended.

There's a whole, giant tube of Mini M&Ms in today's countdown container, so Violet should be flying like a super hero any second now. I might need to dose her chocolate milk later tonight.

Happy Holidays blog buddies! See you soon!

Wardrobe Wednesday

2009-12-23T09:02:00.002-05:00

The Stars Are Brightly Shining, originally uploaded by violet tintype.

What does a Moose Lodge trivia prize look like? Grandma answered that age-old question for us when she gave these glasses to Violet. They run on four hearing aid batteries and the lights have several speeds, from still to seizure mode. They are especially useful for scaring the ever-lovin' crap out of Mama, when she isn't expecting to see them coming around a dark corner.

When the Voices in Your Head Don't Calm You Down...Blog

2009-12-22T14:40:00.000-05:00

Thanks for the pep talk about my Christmas cards. Before I got my own blog, I would have stewed about this little incident for days and days. Talking to one's self does not provide the positive feedback necessary for a speedy emotional recovery, no matter how much you agree with yourself.

To celebrate my acceptance of the rejection of my offensive Christmas card (see how I can laugh about it now), I have hand crafted gifts for the two littlest people in our family. My family is all about homemade stuff and personal, sentimental type gifts. My husband's family (whom we spend Christmas with) is not terribly comfortable with such intimacies. In the past, I have tried my best to respect their quirks, but I HAD to make these.

I found the pattern for Molly Monkey on a blog called mmmcrafts. I would show you how I put them together, but the pattern itself does a much better job. It is truly idiot proof. I made them out of all one fabric, instead of scraps like the pattern calls for. The crown was my idea and the green tutu is one of those fabulous no-sew numbers rendered in miniature. The polka-dot monkey is made from flannel and has a crinkly belly and a jingly tail, as her soon-to-be mama is but a scant 9 months old. They aren't perfect, but Violet immediately requested her own when she saw what I made, so they must be okay. Is it stupid that I'm nervous about my gifts to a 3 year old and her baby sister?

I think I might need to make myself a batch of high octane egg nog. Clearly, my nerves are shot.

The War on Christmas Comes Home

2009-12-18T22:20:00.000-05:00

*Sigh*

I generally stay above the fray on the topic of the "true meaning" of Christmas; fingers in my ears, dancing on the couch and humming Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. We celebrate the holidays in the most secular way possible. Sure, a few hymns bust their way into our playlist, but nostalgia and a good orchestral arrangement cannot be denied. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen can really rock the house when done right. I'm digressing.

We, The Heathen Family, couldn't care less how you choose to greet us this holiday season. We like 'em all. Everything is eat, drink and be merry as far as we're concerned. Too much commercialism? Bah! If you don't want to buy s*#t, don't buy s*#t. Hell, I make half the gifts I give. If you are offended by holiday music, stock up on groceries in October and hope for the best. Does the GAP make you mad by blatantly disregarding the superiority of Christianity during this season of wonder? Well, they'd love you to boycott them. It's great for sweater sales.

Or, or... maybe you just stop whining and eat some damn cookies.

Why so scrunchy Kelly? Why? The holidays never seem to get you down. Who peed in your egg nog?

I spend a lot of time thinking about, planning and executing our holiday card every year. Usually, I have my pictures printed by October, when I cash in my free prints on Shutterfly. Since I'm not going to be proclaiming my love for Christ with these cards, they tend to be funny. We're a funny family. The holiday card is our way of sending everyone we love a wee bit of our happy, goofy selves.

For Violet's First Christmas we sent this photo out:

We were forced to assure everyone that we did not actually hang Violet from the mantle. True story.

Last year, I couldn't find a decent photo of the three of us together so I photoshopped this instead:

I can see now that omitting the Christ in Christmas was my downfall, but I really couldn't fit the whole word in that spot.

This year, we made a genuine effort to take a real family photo for our Christmas card. A friend met us at a park and started snapping. Almost none of the photos were flattering of the old married people. Violet could look radiant covered in her own vomit, but I am VAIN. Yes, I said it. I am vain and if I am going to look less than my best, I am going to do it with a sense of humor (the husband feels this way as well). Luckily, I brought Groucho glasses to our photo shoot. We all had a good laugh. We Heathens crack ourselves up. Apparently, others were not so amused.

Behold, the most offensive Christmas card we have ever sent:

It's ironic, faux vintage and utterly ridiculous. It is also a clear sign of our rapid decent into hell. We are being prayed for. True story.

So, I guess I need you all to tell me what you think. What is it about this card that is so offensive? Do we look like Hitler impersonators? Is it the yellow-y vintage effect on the image that is unsettling? Someone offered me the criticism that the photo is just "not Christmas-y". Perhaps if we had stood in front of a noble fir, festooned with twinkly lights this discussion would never have happened?

Ah, screw it! I think it's funny.

Wardrobe Wednesday

2009-12-16T10:10:00.003-05:00

Sunday morning, my daughter came home looking like this:

Grandma was armed with what I can only imagine to be 1,000 foam rollers and the movie Elf. Violet even consented to sleep in these rollers. The curls were epic and a real son-of-a-bitch to untangle, but the girl was totally enamored of her Orphan Annie do. I attempted to re-create the look on Monday night, with uneven results. Literally. The bottom curlers fell out and I didn't have nearly enough of them. I created something of a curl mullet.

This is how Violet chose to accessorize her curl mullet. No parental influence. Zero irony.
God, I love this kid.

Oh and in case you're wondering if a four year old can really appreciate the genius that is Elf, Violet has a little message for you.

"You smell like beef and cheese. You don't smell like Santa Claus."

Wardrobe Wednesday

2009-12-09T09:11:00.000-05:00

Someone I know likes to wear head bands. Actually, if you ask her she'll say she likes to wear "hand bags". We're working on it.

The problem with plastic head bands is that they are not shaped like any child's head and therefore do not hold any hair back. Stretchy elastic bands just slide off the back of Violet's head in a matter of minutes. Spiky head band hair is a huge pet peeve in Violet's universe. Every time I adjust her head band, Vi fusses. "No hair sticking up!" Much of the time her tiara-like head bands are worn in addition to a barrette. Ah, the lowly barrette, doing the thankless job of keeping hair out of Violet's eyes.

I have begun my seasonal crochet binge and came across a really cool and really simple head band pattern by creativeyarn. The pattern was actually too simple and I managed to complicate it, but subsequent head bands will be produced with ease. I used a different flower on Vi's head band; one that I had lying around already. It works like magic, but it is fitted. You need to measure your melon and account for stretch in the yarn.

I made one for myself as well, but it is done in a really garish, red, acrylic yarn and will most likely not see the light of day. I think I might buy some pretty yarn and make a bunch of these to stuff in Violet's stocking. Pink, sparkle yarn here I come!

Dear Santa...

2009-12-07T08:39:00.001-05:00

We've been trying to convince Violet that handwritten requests to Santa are more likely to be granted than those submitted via Mommy or e-mail. Mumbling in a terrified voice to the mall Santa doesn't count for much either. Violet has claimed a number of imaginary deficiencies to get out of this task, but today she felt "well enough" to give it a shot. She needn't have worried about it. If she had composed a sonnet to the cat, I don't think I could have been more excited.

I give you Violet's first written-all-by-herself letter to Santa Claus.

She's asking for Musketeer Barbie, but we cut her some slack on the specifics. The big man knows what's up. We have submitted a request to the North Pole to have Violet's letter picked up using the "magic envelope" service. Hopefully, when she wakes up in the morning there will be a receipt in the envelope to confirm Santa received her request.

What? You don't expect us to trust the post office do you?

We Call 'em Truffles, cuz We're Classy

2009-12-05T21:31:00.000-05:00

If you've been poking around the interwebs looking for ways to increase your body mass index, you may have come across recipes for cake balls and Oreo balls. I prefer to call them truffles, because I try not to eat anything that has balls in the title, but you can call them whatever you like. I mean, if you want to hand out carefully packaged gifts of balls this holiday season that's your business. I'm not here to judge.

I'm here to educate {snort} you in the fine art of making Oreo Truffles, for personal consumption (I highly recommend consuming many of them) or gift giving. They are super easy, can be made with the ~~slave labor~~ assistance of children and require no baking. Unlike other no-bake "cookie" treats, these are actually edible and don't resemble woodland feces when completed.

Begin by instructing your minions to disassemble an entire package of Oreos. Remind them that Santa is watching and will not bring presents to those who sample the raw materials. This will of course lead to a revolt and said minion (and her little buddy) will retreat to the bedroom to make a giant mess.

After you've torn apart the cookies, feel free to weep a little as you throw the middles in the trash. Trust me, it's the only way. Put the denuded cookies in the food processor and reduce them to dust.

Go upstairs and observe the destruction caused when you neglect to supervise two four year olds on a day long play date.

Vow to enforce clean up time and return to the scene of the Oreo massacre. Transfer the cookie dust to to your mixer and throw in a brick of softened cream cheese. Beat the crap out of it.

Do not be alarmed. This mess will not be pretty, but it will be tasty. Try not to eat all of it at this stage. It gets better.

Now comes the ball part. Clean hands are a chef's best tool. Pretend it's really yummy play dough.

Put these in the fridge for 30 minutes and get out about 16 ounces of melting chocolate. Annoyingly enough, bags of chocolate chips come in 12 ounce sizes. You'll need a handful from a second bag of whatever you decide to use. You can also use bark, but I'm not into "chocolate flavored" stuff. I like the real thing. I used semi-sweet chips, but white chocolate would be lovely as well. Melt it however you like and then dip your balls in it. Try not to laugh and shriek BALLS as you go along. If you are feeling festive you can sprinkle a little something on top of the balls while the chocolate is still wet.

Now, you have truffles. Put them in the fridge, quickly. Children smell them a mile away.

Okay, Now I'll Tell You About Thanksgiving

2009-12-02T14:00:00.000-05:00

I know, I know... You are soooo over Thanksgiving. The Christmas panic has begun. We can't go back now!

I will begin my month of angst-filled holiday posts soon.

For now, I bring you my Grandmother's turkey.

...and my little turkey...

...and my favorite Grandpa...

...and these boy beasts, who actually stopped texting their girlfriends to play with Violet...

I will spare you photographs of a car-sick covered Violet and me in my pajamas at dusk. I'm sure your imagination can fill in the gaps.

Onward to Christmas!

Thanksgiving Flashback

2009-11-26T08:03:00.000-05:00

I'm not really here.

I'm there, eating turkey or drinking coffee. Pie might be involved. What time is it anyway? Don't worry, the rifle is strictly decorative and... enthusiastically screwed into the brick.

Someone is a mite bigger than she was this time last year, non? Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Tissue Tube Advent Thingy

2009-11-24T13:46:00.001-05:00

I have been saving toilet paper tubes for what seems like my entire life. Every time I'd get close to having enough, the husband would suddenly develop a sense of shame about the condition of our home and throw them away. Grrr....

Anyway, I finally managed to get 24 un-crushed tubes together to make my ghetto fabulous advent calendar.

Ad·vent /'ædvent/

noun

1. the period including the four Sundays just before Christmas

2. the thing that will keep me from losing my mind as I try to explain how

long it is until Christmas, day in and day out for the whole of December.

I will stuff each tube with treats, that may or may not be Halloween left-overs re-appropriated by the Candy Fairy.