I Just Feel Like Skipping

Oh, sweet yesterday. Have you ever woken up to a Volvo of a Wednesday to find that she drives like a convertible coupe with the top down? Yesterday was such a Wednesday. Bright sun, blue skies, out-of-town friends and others not seen in a while, an evening that played like the afternoon - all the makings of a should-be-Friday. It was the sort of day that makes you want to play hooky. So I did.

I was never the type of girl who played hooky, which is probably why the idea seems so appealing to me. The girls I knew who played hooky were bold and brassy and had no problem telling teachers what was what. I had nothing to be bold about; there are bags of flour that weigh more in volume than I did in high school, and the only thing brassy about me were my braces. As for the teachers, there are only two whom I attempted to give a piece of my mind, one in middle school and the other by means of a written letter that I proofread and revised (I'm surprised I didn't type it) before slapping it under the windshield wiper of her car.

I didn't use my newfound collegiate freedom for purposes of hooky, either. In fact, I missed fewer days of school in college than I did high school (yes, it's possible I'm the biggest nerd you know): one for illness and three for a trip to DC (my priorities weren't completely skewed). It's not that I wasn't pulled by the first warm days of sunshine back then, it's just that I had plans. I was going to become a psychologist and counsel patients. This plan came with fears, the first being not getting into graduate school and the second of me sitting across from a couch-laden patient while saying, "I'd love to help you with your psychosomatic issues, Mrs. Jacobson, but you see, I skipped that day."

Flash forward a decade. I didn't become a psychologist, nor do I know a Mrs. Jacobson. If she does struggle with psychosomatic issues, she's going to have to seek help elsewhere. I'm busy - playing hooky.

*I know the picture above has nothing to do with the kids and I playing hooky yesterday, other than the fact that we played hooky from the camera as well, focusing on visiting and playing too much to remember to take it out. The picture above is one of my favorites. I don't know the year it was taken, but it is of my grandmother and great-grandmother sitting on my father's old motorcycle. Their expressions (not to mention the peace signs) make me think they were having a convertible-coupe-with-the-top-down sort of Wednesday. Those are some women about to play hooky.

I Guess I Do Do Windows

So, the construction of the windows and door to our playroom project above isn't going to win me a blue ribbon at our state fair, or our local fair for that matter. It's been a month and a half since I finished adding the eyelets to hang our playhouse from the ceiling, and I was getting a bit antsy to get this house up and functioning. What happened in the fifteen minutes here, thirty minutes there that I managed to find in the last month and a half can best be described as "sprinting with needles" (which is about as good of an idea as it sounds). Tonight, with a chunk of time to myself, I pulled out the ironing board, switched on the sewing machine and serger and finished the last two window frames, door frame, and hem.

We kept things simple. We plotted out where we wanted the windows and door to be, made an outline using painter's tape, cut around said outline, and used bias tape and quilt binding to sandwich our fabric (keeping it from fraying) and create a clean door/window frame look. A little frenzied sewing and this little abode got illuminated in a big way.



I added a couple of lengths of bias tape to the top of the door so Audrey will have the option of keeping the door open if she likes. And, while it isn't blue-ribbon worthy, I think it will be 100% kid-approved (Audrey hasn't seen it yet, not that Jason and I didn't each take a turn sneaking inside to try out her new digs). Besides, last time I checked, three-year-olds weren't handing out ribbons.

Next step: paint.

Superhero Fruit

This morning, I awoke to bright sun, and it was glorious. Almost. My sinuses had decided to declare war - kamikaze style. Still, I persevered. The morning was productive, bouts of play interspersed with bouts of chipping away at a deskful of clutter.

Outside, it was 58 degrees. Kids trickled outside all afternoon, their numbers increasing with each bus drop-off and parents' commutes from driveways to backyards. I couldn't wait to get outside and spend the afternoon "finding spring" with Audrey. I had a plan. It was glorious. Almost.

First, Audrey ignored my warning about her decibel level while singing and woke her brother. In a rare display of fussiness, he could not be comforted until I resorted to cozing him into the infant carrier and walking around the house with him as my kangaroo pup. Out her usual one-on-one time, Audrey resorted to the any-attention (read: negative)-is-good-attention mindset. She brought her A game, as did I. She upped the ante. I bluffed with the best of them. We carried on this way until well after her father arrived home. I kept hoping for a mulligan. But they don't have mulligans in poker (or parenting). Finally, she called, and there I was forced to play my hand. I went all in. No walk to the playground. No finding spring.

An afternoon spent in a behavioral stalemate while the first warm day of spring slips you by is anything but glorious, no matter how necessary. The day may have gone down like a sinking ship, but thanks to a fun bath time and a favorite dish, the evening was rescued.

I informed Audrey that I had made a favorite dish of hers, a dish that my mother used to make for my sisters and me, one I have been referring to as Hot Fruit (I can't remember what we called it growing up). She smiled, excited. Then she said, "I wasn't very nice today," followed by an apology. I might just have to rename the dish - something more in keeping with its superhero powers. Hot Damn! Fruit, at the very least.


Hot (Damn! Wonder Woman Wishes She Had Some of This Hiding Under Her Cape - Toddler Apology-Inducing) Fruit:

1 large can sliced pears
1 large can sliced peaches
1 large can cherry pie filling
2 Tbsp. brown sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon

Drain the pears and peaches. Combine all items in an oven-safe dish. Bake on 350 degrees for 40-60 minutes. Stir occasionally (although, given the days events, stirring took a backseat tonight and it turned out just fine). Glorious.


(The picture above doesn't do the dish justice, but that's what happens when the day and good natural lighting pass you by).

For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 60

The theme for this week has been fever, as in Spring Fever and those ranging between 99.6-100.7 degrees. And, while it seems as if the physical fevers should have more pull on our days, it's that spring one that has staying power. Perhaps, that's why this first week of March, with its high-forties-degreed weather and resurgence of the sun, of whose finger-like rays I try to stay within easy grasp while going about my work, has us feeling a bit joyful, in spite of our health-challenged selves. Maybe it's the brush of warmth against our faces hinting at promises of walks and picnics to come that's making us smile. Or, maybe it's the coos and laughter from a certain little guy every time he peers closely at his Daddy's face as if he's already figured out who the fun parent is in this duo. Of course, the following moments with Audrey didn't hurt, either:



On Sunday, Audrey was in the bathtub splashing around with a toy replica of Nemo. She also has a replica of Marlin (Nemo's dad) that, apparently, she couldn't find. She told me that Nemo's dad had gone somewhere.



"Where did Nemo's dad go?" I asked.

"Probably to a meeting," she said.





My little sister is about to have her first baby (not "about" as in any day now, about as in a month and a half from now). Audrey and I were talking about this on Wednesday. Some friends will be throwing her a shower soon.



"Your aunt is having a baby, so they are throwing a party called a shower," I said.

"Her baby can't have a shower. He's too little. She has to wait until he's bigger," she said.





On Thursday, she asked me if she could move to the neighbor's house.

"I want to live with Jaila," she said.

When I explained that she couldn't live both places and asked if she didn't want to live with us anymore, she said, "Well, I want to play with Jaila."





Later that day, she found the lady bug seen in the picture above. Nothing makes this girl happier than discovering a lady bug around the house. She carried him around for the next fifteen minutes (and would have carried him around all day had she not dropped and lost him) referring to him as her best friend. I overheard her telling him (in no uncertain terms) that he needed to raise his voice.

"I'm glad we had this talk," she said.



(Is "blackmail" the first word that pops into anyone else's head when viewing this picture?)


Last week, a friend called me to tell me about a great online deal she found on some FuzziBunz pocket diapers. The catch? The only ones on clearance (for almost half off!) were daisy-patterned. I thought about the future ramifications of dressing my son in daisy-motifed diapers for all of three minutes before I ordered them. Nathan was wearing this red pair (I also have them in blue) on Thursday when he let something go that would make my uncle, the truck driver, blush. Audrey was sitting next to me as I changed his diaper. She looked down at the filled diaper with its floral print.

"I don't think its his kind," she said.
I laughed. "You don't think he likes it?"
"No!"


This morning, Audrey asked, "Can we go find spring?" (We let her watch Franklin and the Green Knight a couple weeks ago in which Franklin goes on a quest to bring back spring). Blame it on the sunshine, or the sound of the basketball drumming my neighbor's drive, or the daisies that have been springing up around here lately (even if only on bums), but I'm ready to pack a snack, grab a middle-weight jacket and go. But our quest will have to wait. The medicine I gave Audrey this afternoon to rid her of her cough, has managed to do something I haven't been able to convince her of for a year-and-a-half. Twenty minutes ago she decided to take a nap. As grateful as I am to see her finally having a peaceful slumber, it's kind of freaking me out. I guess spring will just have to wait. At least until tomorrow.

Wishing you a weekend filled with flowers in unexpected places...

Happiness with a Zipper

I don't know who said to find what it is you love to do and then find a way to make money at it, but it sounds like a recipe for happiness in business to me. And, it's just what my friend, Meredith, over at Spire Design Group has been doing. (You have heard me talk about Meredith here.) Shortly after dusting off her old sewing machine, Meredith taught herself how to make a little zippered pouch. And, well, she never looked back. Over one hundred bags later, I got an email from Mere telling me she was beginning a side venture to her interior design business, a collection of bags under the name SDG. The bags above are just two of numerous designs you can find at her website. How sweet is that hummingbird fabric? It just tweets spring to me. (Happiness!)

Were you hoping for a little double happiness today? Well, I can deliver. You see, when I visited Meredith's blog this morning to check out her bags, I noticed she was hosting a give away, a personalized necklace from one of the etsy shop owners (Valerie) of Spunk & Sass. So, take a moment to visit Meredith's blog (take in the bag eye candy - so wonderfully spring) and enter for a chance to win a little something pretty just for you.

What? You want a chance to win a SDG bag for free? Well, I just discovered that Valerie is doing her own give away on her blog Next to Heaven. Be sure to check it out. Is that a triple happiness? Told you I could deliver. ;)

I Think He Loves Me

In the 1996 movie, Phenomenon, George Malley (portrayed by John Travolta) falls for the tough exteriored, yet soft-on-the-inside, Lace Pennamin (played by Kyra Sedgewick). Lace has a passion for making chairs, which (unbeknownst to her) George buys - every single one. Of course, Lace does eventually find out about George's penchant for her chairs, George wins over the girl, and his friend, Doc, puts another townsperson in his place when he explains, "Every woman has her chair, something she needs to put herself into, Banes. You ever figure out what Lisa's chairs were and buy 'em?"

This week, when I told Jason that I was having yet another problem with my laptop, he confessed that he'd been checking out some laptops that he thought would make my days (or at least my blogging) much easier. Last night, he bought me one. There's more than one way to fix a computer.




Just to give you an idea, the computer above is the one I've been using since I began blogging. Audrey performed this face lift on the keyboard in October of 2008 as I was attempting to load the car for a two-day getaway. The keys have stuck a bit ever since. (Notice the sticker in the left-hand corner of the photo. This is a picture just primed for Leno or Letterman, no?) Not long after that, my battery began to wear down, only lasting fifteen minutes or so before the computer would shut down, which meant that I had to be plugged into the wall to blog, because a fifteen-minute blogger I am not. Then, at the end of last year, I lost the ability to upload pictures from my camera to the laptop (we never figured out if it was a cord problem or a computer problem). So, each morning, I would run down to the computer in our basement, upload my pictures, save them to the blog, and then write the blog later on the laptop as I had time. That brings us up to last week when the pictures stopped loading from the computer in the basement to the blog. No idea why. I'm sure I would have continued on this way until Nathan grew old enough to toss the laptop down the stairs.

But why worry about such quibbles with a guy like Jason around? So here I sit, typing on a new working computer with a built-in SD card reader. Living with a man who buys your chairs and being the new owner of a computer that fits in your purse - double happiness!

Technical Difficulties

Yesterday, I had planned on beginning a week of posts focused on happiness. But we experienced some technical difficulties, both computer and family-wise. I have been unable to upload pictures to my blog the last few days. I am not tech savvy and have no idea why. My husband, who is much more tech savvy, also has no idea why.

As for the family, well those little loves of mine sure know how to keep things interesting. Jason, ever the medical adventurer, piggy-backed his knee surgery recovery with a tooth extraction yesterday. His was the sort of extraction that elicits comments from the oral surgeon like, "you're going to make me earn my money today," and "Holy mother!" from the rest of us (or, perhaps, just me) as we investigate the trim job to the corresponding gum tissue, making it appear as if this scant piece of tissue missed the memo about wearing heels on picture day, the shortened gum line made ever more obvious by the two-popcorn-kernel-sized hole above.

Our sweet Nathan, although rather congested, got a clean bill of health at his two-month check-up yesterday, along with a vaccine to each thigh. We spent a good portion of the evening trying to place him in a comfortable position to ease his crying and taking turns with the bulb syringe. He continues to whimper a bit today each time I move him, but rather than cry, the last time I stuck the bulb syringe in his nostril, he smiled at me. Poor kid.

Audrey developed an alter ego yesterday, culminating in an attempted eye roll (she managed to dart the blues of her eyes to the corners of her lids while fluttering her eyelashes) by late afternoon and the discovery of a fever at 3 a.m. The two of us had quite the forcing-down-of -juice party until 5 a.m. when Jason settled her back in bed. By 8:20 she was fine, asking me to play in her playroom and requesting pancakes. (Although, she keeps asking to sit in my lap with my hand to her forehead, because she finds the position "cozy"). As I made the pancakes, she sat at the kitchen table, attaching stickers to a bag she had used to collect Valentines at school and singing "Jesus Loves Me," with an extra verse thrown in about her mama loving her.

As for the lone healthy individual of the household, I am thankful for the sunshine today, and finally feeling awake enough to not squint at the sight of it. Around 10:30, I began slugging around the kitchen making those pancakes Audrey had requested. All seemed to be going well. Audrey was content at the kitchen table with stickers and Nate had finally settled into a comfortable position in his car seat out of harm's way on the counter. The pancakes were coming together, or so I thought. I poured the batter for the "test" pancake onto the skillet. It came out looking like a deflated whoopee cushion. I realized I had never added the baking powder with the other dry ingredients. I had taken it out of the pantry, sat it on the counter, and then in my lack-of-sleep stupor, returned it to the pantry without ever using it. I threw in two teaspoonfuls, stirred, and hoped for the best. The batter looked bubbly as I poured it onto the skillet. What resulted was a batch of, perhaps, the lightest, fluffiest pancakes I've ever made.

Discovering the secret to pillowy pancakes because you're a blundering mess in the kitchen - happiness!