Our first Advent Calendar

Bub and I are so excited about tomorrow for different reasons. He’s excited because I promised him a trip to Disneyland. I’m excited because we’re breaking into our Advent calendar. We’ve never had one before because obviously I’m a mean mom who doesn’t want her children to have anything fun in this world. Also, because I didn’t really think he would get it before this year.

So, my mom actually created this Advent calendar for us. Well, not the calendar itself; she bought that, of course. It kind of reminds me of the one from Christmas Vacation, but we watched that the other night and it doesn’t really look like that one at all. But in my mind they’re similar.

She filled each space with a treat, and an ornament for a little tree that she bought also. (The first few days have garland, too.)

The tree has lights too, but we haven’t plugged it in yet, and won’t until we start to decorate it.

Bub has already peeked and knows that behind some of the doors is money (coins) and behind others are dollars. His little mind is going to be blown.

Can you even stand how cute my mom is? She suggested that Bubette will need her own in a few years and I’m sure she’s on it already.

(I did it. NaBloPoMo. BOOM.)

There’s still time to enter my Paper Culture giveaway!

Handmade. By me. ALL BY MYSELF.

I don’t think a giveaway post constitutes actual posting for NaBloPoMo, so here I go  - two posts in one day. With only one more day to go, this actually seems doable.

So, I’ve been bitten by the crafty bug and I can’t really explain it. I think it might be the holidays and all of the joy that is coursing through my veins as a result of the lit Christmas tree and piles of candy canes all throughout the house.

Not only do I have the desire to make things, but I actually went to the store, got all of the supplies and made them in a timely manner.

First up, my wee tree, made using this tutorial.

This was actually harder than I thought it would be. It wasn’t actually difficult, but because of the graduated cone, the yarn wanted to slip upwards leaving a gap. I ended up using dots of hot glue on the way up to hold things in place. I have the supplies to make another, larger tree and plan to work on that tonight or tomorrow.

Then, my wreath. (Tutorial here.)

I’m in love with this little wreath. It was actually easier than the tree, but more time consuming.

The flowers were outrageously easy. I tried a few different kinds, but they didn’t really turn out. I plan to practice with a few others, but these are super easy and cute, too.

With that, go forth and be crafty. Oh, and enter my giveaway. It’s a good one.

Paper Culture Giveaway!

Way back in August, I had the pleasure of meeting the people behind Paper Source at BlogHer, and they sent me home with a $50 gift card, which I’m now passing along to one of you!

Sure, sure they have gorgeous holiday cards.

They also have bamboo wall art, which you can order in one of the prefabricated (but still personalized) designs or you can customize your own with a photo.

How much do I love these Owls in Love? (SO MUCH.)

You can also find baby announcements, personalized stationery and party invitations all printed on this delicious, high quality paper.

But, above and beyond their gorgeous products (I’ve seen and touched them all myself,) is their commitment to our planet. They plant a tree in an US National Forest for every order placed, with a goal of 1,000,000 trees planted, and they’ve pledged to not cut down any new trees. None. They use 100% post-consumer recycled paper, or alternative, non-tree fibers. You can read more about their eco-commitment here.

On to the good stuff. For you, I have a $50 voucher for a Paper Culture product. The voucher expires on December 31, so you’ll have to order quickly, but you get started on your holiday cards, or order a special holiday gift for someone. I’ll close entries on this giveaway on Friday, December 2, at noon, to give the winner plenty of time to choose one of their awesome products.

To enter, simply leave me a comment below, and I’ll use random.org to choose a winner on Friday afternoon.

As always, please be sure you link back to your profile, or leave your email address in the comment section. Blogger’s commenting process leaves much to be desired and I don’t have an automatic way to contact you when you comment!

The Way I See It

Starbucks is a place that serves coffee and offers free wifi. It is not a library. It is not your office. While you’re welcome to work there, you do so with the understanding that this is a business that caters to many different types of people. Yes, even people with children are welcome to enter Starbucks. They’re even welcome to pull up a chair and stay a while. Sure, they’re responsible to make sure that their children aren’t tearing up the store, and that they’re behaving reasonably. What they are not responsible for is keeping their children church quiet so that you can work. Starbucks sells baby food for Pete’s sake. Occasionally, there will be children there.

***

If I got here first, this is MY seat. If you arrive late to storytime, really late, like twenty  minutes into a thirty  minute program,  you should sit in the back. You should not squeeze into the space previously occupied by my diaper bag just so that you can sit by your friend. Your friend who, as it happens, was here on time also. You should not also make jokes about blocking my view. No, I’m not particularly invested in the Roly, Roly, Poly song, but that’s beside the point.*

***

You shouldn’t park your car like a jerk. I shouldn’t have to climb into the driver seat of my car from the passenger side because you parked in a space that you didn’t fit it. It’s not acceptable to assume that because the person next to you parked like a jerk, that you should too. Don’t compound the problem. Also, if I arrive at my car first, I have first dibs on loading my things and my child into the car. I’ll be quick and efficient, and I’ll probably shoot you unnecessary apologetic looks while I’m rushing, but it’s still my turn. You shouldn’t ask me to HOLD YOUR STROLLER WITH THE BABY STILL IN IT, while you load up the rest of your children and back your car out of the space that you parked, JERKILY, in, while I wait.

*This rant was actually inspired by someone on Twitter would I would love to quote, but her account is private, so I won’t. Her comment was about scooting over to accommodate late-comers to movie theaters. Which, as you might guess, I’m also against.

Christmas Everywhere

Our house has never been a Christmas Lite house. In fact, if my husband had it his way, the house would be Christmas Extra Bold (both TM A’Dell.) If it were up to him it would be hard to differentiate our house from the north pole. Fortunately for all of us, it’s not entirely up to him, but it’s pretty darn Christmassy here.

In fact, it should probably tell me something that we haven’t really increased the number of Christmas decorations in our new, bigger house, and we still have more decorations than we know what to do with.

Okay, we have increased the number of decorations. After putting up the tree and hanging the stockings, I started to hate our couch with it’s boring pillows. I fell in love with pretty much every single option from Pottery Barn, but not so much in love with their prices. I found some very suitable substitutes at Target and my husband surprised me by buying them, along with a matching blanket, and setting them up while I was upstairs doing something. I literally gasped when I came downstairs, and that doesn’t happen very often. My husband is a terrible secret keeper and he can’t WAIT to tell you about something that he’s gotten for me. This was truly a surprise, and a very good one at that.

I’m very much in the Christmas spirit already. I made salt dough ornaments today with the intent to use them as gift tags. I was kind of expecting them to look okay on their own, without any sort of embellishment, but I don’t love them. They look like a cookie, and not a particularly tasty one.

Maybe they’ll look better if I paint them? (Also, who needs to find new cookie sheets under the Christmas tree this year?)

I’ve been bitten by the Christmas crafting bug, and I plan to get the supplies to make yarn Christmas trees, and a yarn wreath. I think they both have just the right amount of whimsy for the playroom, with is currently a Christmas-free zone, unless you count the endless viewings of the Curious George Christmas special and Elf on a Shelf today.

Are you crafting? Watching holiday movies? (We’ll be watching Elf momentarily.)  Or are you simply annoyed by all of the Christmas talk even though it’s still December?

I make boxed stuffing and I'm not afraid to admit it.

My brain is tryptophan fuzzy.

We just finished Thanksgiving Two and as far as I'm concerned, we can plan for the same time next year, and for all the rest of the years. Thanksgiving with friends is awesome, and I think you should do it too.

I successfully made pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce myself this year, making stuffing and rolls the two not even remotely homemade things on the table tonight. Maybe I'll try the rolls next year, but my stuffing will always be Mrs. Cubbison's, forever and ever.

Tomorrow I believe we're going to tackle salt dough ornaments/gift tags, thus rounding out my Suzie Homemaker weekend.

Thanks Given

It was everything you imagine it to be. It was two turkeys, one perfectly rotisseried, and one that just wouldn’t cook until well after the dishes were cleared. It was round after round of Truffle (Trouble, of course, and the first person to correct him answers to me,) with cousins and uncles, all who’ve long outgrown the game, but all good enough sports to endure one more game than was probably tolerable. It was a little girl who resembles her late great-grandmother in a way that made people look, and then look again. It was a kids table set by the fire outside, with the sounds of the ocean for a soundtrack. It was a four year old approaching his gramma in the kitchen and asking if he’s having grilled cheese for dinner as she patiently stirs the gravy until it’s perfect. It’s a gramma saying, “Of course,” despite the hours she’s spent on this practically perfect meal. It’s a baby sister who (unsurprisingly) eats everything on her plate, and starts taking things directly off of the forks of those around her when she runs out. It was tucking tired and happy children into bed well past their bedtimes and an early, tryptophan induced bedtime for the grown-ups. It was Thanksgiving, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thankful

Last night, on our way to the bath, I made up an elaborate story about serving roasted Bub for Thanksgiving dinner. Now that I think about it, it sounds kind of awful, but four year olds are pretty easily entertained, and I’ll do anything to make my kids laugh. After I talked about buttering him and sticking a lemon in his ear, (what?) he cracked up and asked me to tell him about the ingredients again. Ingredients! I didn’t even know he knew that word.

Later on, just as he was about to fall asleep, he asked me to put him in the pan again.

These kids, this family, I’m so thankful for all of them.

Happy Thanksgiving, America, and to the rest of the world, Happy Thursday.

Thanksgiving

Meme stolen from Lawyerish.

1. Are you celebrating Thanksgiving at home or elsewhere this year?  With whom will you spend Thanksgiving Day?
We’re having Thanksgiving at my parent’s house this year. We alternate between my parents and my in-laws. My parents live about twenty minutes away and it will be us, my parents, brother, aunt, uncle and two cousins. My husband’s base family is 45 people, so the holidays are completely different with my family and his. We’re having a Friendsgiving on Saturday for the third year in a row, so I’ll be cooking a full turkey dinner myself in a few days.

2. What do you have for breakfast on Thanksgiving?
We don’t have a breakfast tradition. I think I might make cinnamon rolls or pancakes, because why not go all out for the day, right?

3. Do you go to a Thanksgiving parade or watch one on TV?
We will probably watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on TV. My husband has been lobbying to go to New York to actually see the parade for a while. It’s not the time as the kids are too young for any of us to really enjoy a New York trip, and we’re not about to leave them at home on a holiday.

4. Do you serve appetizers, lunch, or snacks during the day (i.e., for the men to eat while they lounge around and watch football)?
For Saturday’s meal I’ll probably do some sort of crackers and dip. I don’t want to do anything too heavy since people get here about an hour before we eat. We’re working around nap schedules, so that dinner isn’t an all day event. My mom will probably have nuts and crackers and cheese? 

5. What do you wear on Thanksgiving? 
Typically sweaters and jeans, provided it’s not eighty degrees out. This year the weather should be perfectly cool. Bubette will probably be the most dressed up person, and hers is currently the only outfit I’ve given any thought to – including my own.

6. What's your Thanksgiving table like -- do you use special plates/silver/glasses, etc?  Do you have a centerpiece?  A color scheme?  Candles?
I’ll use our china. We only use it a few times a year, and this dinner is one of those times. Yes, it’s a giant pain to hand wash it, but I really do like using it. The china is kind of a point of contention in our house as my husband doesn’t really understand it’s purpose. I contend that something that is supposed to last for a long time is really only meant to be used a few times per year. That IS it’s purpose.

Our Christmas decorations are already up, so we’ll have a Christmassy table. My mom’s table will be gorgeous, without a doubt, with fresh flowers and candles. Basically, her table would make Sandra Lee weep.

7.  Do you serve buffet-style or family-style?  What do you have to drink?
We’ll serve family style. If we had more people than could fit at one table, I would serve buffet style with things like rolls, cranberry sauce, butter and gravy on every table.

My parents will serve cocktails and wine. We’ll have sparking cider.

8.  Once you're at the table, do you say grace or a toast or does everyone go around and say what they're thankful for?
My family isn’t particularly religious, although Bub will probably say a quick prayer. For Saturday we’ll probably let Bub say the prayer again, because it’s cute.

9.  Do you have dessert right after the main meal or later on?
Like Lawyerish, I like to linger at the table. I don’t like rushing through dinner, particularly since it took so long to make. I’m usually the only person who feels this way. Dessert is served a while after dinner, after we’ve all recovered.

10.  What do you do with your leftovers?
And here we arrive at the number one reason why we have a second turkey dinner – the leftovers. I’m partial to turkey sandwiches on leftover rolls, although this year I think I’ll make a turkey soup if I can get my act together the next day.

Your turn!

Doom. And Plagues.

First there were mice. Or mouse. We’ve only caught one, and I’ve seen no further evidence of mice in my house, so I think we’re good. (Please, oh please, oh please.)

Then there were spots. Bub woke up yesterday with two small bumps on his neck, which we assumed to be some sort of bug bite. This morning, he climbed into our bed and said, “Look what’s all over me.” Spots. All over his arms and legs. A few on his stomach and back.

Nothing like a little early-morning Twitter hysteria to start your day.

The doctor doesn’t really think it’s chicken pox. He’s had both vaccines and it’s not really presenting like typical chicken pox. He thinks it’s more like a bug, or several, feasting on his tender flesh.

Which might just be worse,  in my opinion.

He said we could bring him in, but he didn’t think he could tell us for sure if we’re dealing with chicken pox or something else. He gave me some things to look for, but really, there’s not much we can do if it’s the pox.

He essentially told me it’s bugs, as much as I tried to convince him it was NOT bugs. We just had a mouse, I can not handle bugs in my beds.

We washed his bedding on the most environmentally unfriendly settings – hot water with all of the extra rinses - and then washed ours and Bubette’s for good measure. I’m itchy and hoping for a reduction in spots by the morning.  I would like some sort of reassurance that this isn’t contagious so we can still attend our Thanksgiving dinner with my parents. More likely, we’re going to have to wait until some ambiguous time to decide that it’s probably fine.

Oh, and then there was this:

I really believed in them. I did!

Don’t be surprised if my next post is about a disturbing swarm of locusts.

Monday, Monday

*It turns out that the exact number of parents needed to enjoy a shopping trip with one child is two, and no less. While Bub was in school, the husband and I did some Christmas shopping with Bubette. The mall was pretty  much empty for, what will likely be, the last time until January. One of us could follow her around, as she isn’t much for being contained these days, and the other could look. (This formula doesn’t apply to highly active four year olds however. The number of adults needed to make a shopping outing successful is more than would fit in my minivan.)

*I ordered my Christmas cards today. We have a picture that is fine. No, it’s not perfect, but it’s the four of us in our house and it’s fine. I picked a card from many,  many perfectly adorable options. I gave it the exact amount of attention that one should to something that will be thrown in the trash come December 26th.

*I saw Breaking Dawn tonight.

Putting aside my personal opinion on brining babies to adult movies, tell me how it is possible to enjoy a movie if the entire time you’re worried that your baby will wake up and disturb the people who made other arrangements for their children.

The movie was fine. Ali Martell was exactly right in her assessment. It’s a movie, not a film. It’s a guilty pleasure, not a cultural experience. That said, I would like to see the final Twilight installment in a theater exclusively for those old enough to rent a car. The giggling, you guys. Non-stop giggling for two straight hours.

*I still haven’t decided on what we’re having for our turkey dinner with friends on Saturday night, which means that I haven’t shopped for it yet. And that means that I have to go to a grocery store tomorrow. I think drinking before lunch will be in order.

My Christmas Plan

I'm stealing this from a ton of people, but I think the first person who inspired me was Elizabeth.

• Order Christmas cards. Choose a photo, then make the impossible decision of choosing the perfect card from a million choices. Have cards in the mail by December 5.
• Order gift tag labels using the deal I bought on One Kings Lane weeks ago.
• Make salt dough gift tags.
• Decide on a cookie to bake for my mother-in-law's cookie exchange.
• Create a menu of appetizers and desserts for our Christmas party.
• Shop for gifts. Stop short of buying all the things.
• Consider the benefits of buying Bubette's big gift on Black Friday, against the pain of actually shopping on Black Friday.
• Completely out of order, go shopping for our post-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving dinner with friends.
• Decorate. Hang the lights, put up the tree. (I'm putting this on the list for the express purpose of crossing it off. We're done. Tree up and decorated. Lights hung. Congratulate my husband. I was completely overwhelmed by the mere sight of the boxes in the garage. )
• Advent calendar - my mom called today and she already bought, AND filled with prizes, an Advent calendar for the kids.
• Set a date to walk the best decorated neighborhood in the area.
• Bake. Bake until the idea of baking makes me want only salad and water for the entire month of January.

What's on your list?

And so it begins

I am all in. Scarves, caramel brûlée lattes, gifts hidden in the back of the car. Decorating begins in earnest this weekend and there are Christmas songs on the radio.




Let it be Christmas.

Oh, Alanis

This morning I woke to more evidence of mice in my house. Specifically, mouse poop on my mousepad. I am not amused by your irony, mice.

I'm just about to finish Divergent, and I can say with certainty that mice would be in my fear landscape. Although that would never really be an issue, because I'm a giant wuss, and would have never chosen Dauntless in the first place.

Perhaps you would like to hear about my previous rodent experiences that have led to this paralyzingly fear? (I'm not really exaggerating. I'm wondering how I can feed the kids breakfast without venturing downstairs ever again)

In college I worked in a student organization with an office in a dorm. An office with two desks, meant to accommodate sixteen people at various times. At one point, someone spied a mouse, so maintenance came to set a trap. Shortly after setting the trap, I had to go to the office alone for something. I had completely forgotten about the trap until, well, until it was impossible to forget about it as I nearly stepped on it and its... contents.

In a move that will set feminism back 100 years, I grabbed the phone and jumped on a chair where I stayed until someone came to deal with the mouse, and physically remove me from the chair.

Fast forward a few years to my first classroom. I was standing in the back of the room, delivering what was, no doubt, a riveting lecture on feudal Japan to a classroom of rapt seventh graders. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement, which closer inspection showed to be a mouse darting in and out of the room from under the door. Naturally, I
lost the last few students who were paying attention, and this began a long school year of teaching around the mice.

These mice were fearless. They would dart across the front of the room while I was teaching, almost always perched on a stool that year. They would scurry down the bookcase just behind my desk, and they would wait inside my desk drawers. We never, ever caught a mouse that year, but there must have been an entire colony of them. Perhaps they enjoyed medieval world history, and hearing The Outsiders read aloud.

Today my plans include shrieking at every shadow, and eating food only from the refrigerator, as that remains blissfully vector free.

EEK

 

I had planned to write something… else today. I’m not sure what, though. Maybe it was about Christmas decorations?

I really have no idea because all of my brain function is dedicated to this: OMGTHERE’SAMOUSEINMYHOUSE. EATING MY STUFF. IN MY TRASH. WHAT IF I FIND IT SOMEWHERE? WHAT IF IT FINDS ME?

We have caught several mice in the garage since living here. I know we should probably be using humane traps and releasing them, but what we have here isn’t an isolated incident, it’s mice. MULTIPLE. Don’t tell Stimey. I was less than pleased with the mouse problem in the garage, but we live in new construction and it’s to be expected, I guess. As long as they were confined to the garage, I could shut the door and ignore them.

Now they’re in my house. IN MY HOUSE. I have called our pest control guy, and it’s been twenty-five minutes, and he hasn’t called me back. I realize that he won’t be able to solve the problem immediately, but I’ve got this mental picture of him as a Ghostbuster. I’m not sure where I’m going with that.

MOUSE IN MY HOUSE.

Blog Share

Today I’m participating in Blog Share, and giving this space to another writer for the day.

I’m happy to share the following post, which I did not write.

Today I will write about my SIL Ashley which clearly isn’t her real name.

First I’d like to say that one thing I respect about Ashley is she always knew what she wanted to do, is very passionate about it, and does it. I think that is so wonderful. The other thing about her that I really like is she knows how to say things to people in a way that always sounds sweet even if she’s not being sweet.

Now that comes in handy when say…..you really want to address something in a nice way and you sincerely don’t mean to be snotty but some people sound snotty no matter what (I sometimes think I am that person) and I think that’s a great trait to have. But! She is very passive aggressive. She will say mean and snotty things through text message but never to anyone’s face.

Anyway. Like I said, she does something she loves to do which has to with children and keeping them safe and coaching parents. She is very into child development and how parents interact with children, and while I think this is wonderful, I feel it’s a little hypocritical of her when she grows pot in her closet.

She’s a little bit of a liar. Not like big enormous lies but just enough where I think, why would you lie about that? With her first child she told me she had him drug free but then in a separate conversation I had with the child’s father he told me she got to an 8 and could not take it anymore. That’s perfectly acceptable, I don’t care if she got to a 1, I don’t judge you if you had an epidural but I do think you’re stupid for lying about it.

It was the same story with her second child. She specifically said to me in the hospital it was drug free but then recently when we were on a trip together we were in a discussion about giving birth and her husband told my husband and me a totally different story about how she did get an epidural.

I am so confused.

Ashley was a vegetarian when I met her. I have no issue with this, I personally don’t eat much meat myself but her big thing is organic. And that’s fine. But she’s made very judgmental about other parents and fast food and what they feed their kids. I feel like I sound like such a snob writing this but I promise you I’m not it’s just you should hear her go on and on and on about it and it makes me mad. So then one day she asked me if I could watch her daughter for a little bit and when she brought her over she brought her with breakfast. The mini cinnamon rolls from Burger King. I mean, really? Now, hang on because I do that for my daughter here and there on special occasions or McDonalds on a mommy/daughter date but she would talk like her daughter would never have fast food until she was old enough to drive there on her own and pay for it.

Partly I think she goes on and on about this stuff because she works with parents and children and trying to help make the situation better but you know what? It’s okay if she’s not perfect, and I almost feel bad that she tries so hard to be and then when she fails she looks kind of dumb. And then she lies about it which is even dumber.

She’s also lied about how much she makes. I don’t care what people make but she volunteers it to her brother and he tells me. But then her husband tells my husband who is my husband’s best friend what she really makes and again, it’s not the same. Wait; maybe it’s her husband that is the liar. That could be it.

And finally, there’s a been a few things I’ve talked with her about that had to do with her mom, my MIL, that I wanted us to do for her and she says she will take care of it and never does. I asked her recently if I should get her mom something or would it be rude? It was something for the grandkids that the MIL could use and I know she really wants one. Ashley said she was just given one of the things that I wanted to buy for MIL so she would give it to her mom because she didn’t need it. That was a month ago and she has yet to give it to her. And the MIL really needs it so I think I might just buy it anyway. It just seems like when I try to do something nice and tell her about it she says no and that she’ll do it but then never does so I’m not going to share that information anymore.

And, I’m done now. I sort of feel bad about this post. I’m glad it’s anonymous.

For more Blog Share participants, please visit the following blogs:

Andrea Unplugged

April On Ashley

 Bright Yellow World 

 Drifts Get Deeper

Malfeasance

Our Little Geekling

The Reluctant Grownup

 Together They Come

Did I Say That Outloud?

Snarke

Operation Pink Herring

Nonsense and Frippery

Mama Bub

Heidikins

Nothing Is Easier Than Self-Deceit

Barfing Rainbows and Unicorns

And You Know What Else

Perspective

Or, more accurately, my total and complete lack thereof.

Much like my  mother telling me that there were starving children in Africa, no matter how hard I try, I can not talk myself into a mindset where I snap out of my selfish whining and wake up to just how lucky I am.

I can blame sleep-deprivation to a point, but at some point don’t I need to look around and tell myself just to SHUT UP?

I missed a weekend in the desert with my book club friends recently, and the whining, and pouting, and even actual crying, that took place went well above and beyond what was reasonable. It lasted through the weekend and I knew that it was over the top and I couldn’t stop it. I snapped at my children, and my husband, and the dog, (although this was probably deserved, as that dog is directly under my feet all day long.)

Then, on Sunday morning, the boys were at Disneyland, and I was home with a sick and (rightfully) crabby Bubette. She alternated between whining and exploring and she just couldn’t seem to decide if she wanted up or down. Finally, I settled into the rocking chair and her head hit my shoulder with a force that told me that I had finally figured it out. We sat like that for a long time. Her eyes got heavy,  but she never slept. We just rocked.  In that moment I was so grateful for everything. I felt sorry that I had acted like a pre-teen and was glad that I hadn’t missed this moment.

Then, a little while later, when she was napping and Bub was home, operating at level eleven, I hissed at him to just be quiet, for once. Perspective gone. Messing with naptime makes me disproportionately insane. It’s as if there’s no way I’ll survive the next few  hours if they don’t go the way I had planned. My mind is convinced that no nap means certain doom and I kick into overdrive, determined to make the nap happen.

No amount of telling myself that there’s always tomorrow, or that now we can go do something, rather than be tethered to the house has ever lessened the blow of a nap ruined.

Aren’t there bigger things I could be worrying about?

Let me be clear: I’m not one to deny someone the right to whine. Sometimes things don’t go our way. Sometimes things are bad. Yes, they are always worse for someone else, but I don’t think that takes away our right to be upset, or hurt, or frustrated.  I just need a better strategy, or any strategy at all, for forcing myself to look at the big picture.

Night and Day

We spent the morning at Disneyland, and the afternoon managing two napless and overtired children.
I look back at the pictures and I remind myself that it’s worth it. It’s worth the possibility of car naps and the resulting short fuses.

Disneyland jumps straight from Halloween to Christmas decorations, and Main Street warmed even my cold, it’s-too-early-for-Christmas heart.

Speaking of warm, I found the apple crisp perfection that I was looking for. In the comments on my post with the original recipe, Melissa left this recipe of her grandmother’s, and it was exactly what I was looking for.
From Melissa:
1 stick of butter, melted
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup of oats
1/2-3/4 (just depends on how humid the day is*) flour
Combine using a fork (keeps it from getting too compacted). Pour over your favorite fruit (canned cherries, apples, peaches-what have you), bake @ 350 for 25-30 minutes or until fruit is soft (especially important when doing apple crunch).

*I spent a lot of time wondering if higher humidity warranted more or less flour. I guessed that the higher the humidity, the more flour necessary. It was raining last night, so I went with 3/4 cups of flour and that worked. My logic, however, might be flawed.

11.11.11

My very dear friend got married last night.

She got engaged three short weeks ago, realized that a pretty fun date was approaching, and they just decided to go for it. After seven years of dating, they were just ready to be married. (No, she isn’t pregnant. At least, she swears to me that she isn’t.)

In a small backyard ceremony they said “I do,” with vows that included promising to never vote Democrat, and attempts to learn to cook without burning down the kitchen.

It was sweet, and intimate and full of love for the happy couple. I cried more than once, and not just because that’s I what I do at weddings.

Congratulations P & C. We couldn’t be happier for you!

In defense of jeggings

This week I bought*, and then wore out in public, jeggings.

At this point you’re either on the jeggings bandwagon or you’re not. For a very, very long time, I was not. But hear me out. I’ve been wanting to try skinny jeans for a while, but I’ve been either pregnant, or just recently not-pregnant for the last two fall and winter seasons. This year, I got some really cute boots for my birthday, and they need skinny jeans. And I tried to find some, but every single pair was just so uncomfortable.

Now, I know that no great fashion decision was ever made on the basis of comfort (hello, pajama jeans, are you out there?) but I refuse to be miserable in what I’m wearing. REFUSE.

Then (longest story about a pair of jeans, ever) there was a lot of jegging talk on Twitter, with people that I like and respect singing their praises. I really thought jeggings were absolutely not going to happen for me, but here’s the thing. THEY’RE COMFORTABLE. Also, cute.

Every single pair of skinny jeans I tried on bunched in weird places. They were fitted in some areas, WAY TOO FITTED in other areas, and bunchy everywhere else. Because of the miracle of Lycra, jeggings are stretchy. No bunching.

While I hereby solemnly swear I will never, ever wear leggings as pants, jeggings are an exception. Because they’re still denim, they’re more substantial than cotton leggings, and therefore you avoid some of the more unfortunate side effects of leggings-as-pants. Still, I only ever see myself wearing my now-beloved jeggings with a longer top and with boots. I do not have the proportions to wear them with flats, as cute as that looks on half of the moms at preschool.

Jeggings, I’m in love. Who knew?

*Bought with a gift card, of course, for anyone following along with my spending restrictions.

(un)Common Decency

Please, never say the following things to a pregnant woman:

• Was this baby a surprise?
• You look so uncomfortable.
• You must be due any day now!
• My sister/cousin/co-worker didn’t find out she was having twins until she was in the delivery room!

You are welcome to say:

• Congratulations!
• You look amazing!

Please never say the following things to a new parent:

• Don’t worry, he’ll be so much cuter by the time he’s six months old.
• How is he sleeping?
• Are you vaccinating/circumcising/breast-feeding/co-sleeping? Unless, you are
• Close enough to this person that would make these sorts of invasive questions appropriate, AND
• able to ask these questions without any registering any judgment on the answer.

You are welcome to say:

• Congratulations!
• You look amazing!

I either need advice, or some sort of coffee mug holding hat

I have always based a large part of my perceived success as a parent on how well my children are sleeping. This is directly related to the fact that their sleep reflects on how much sleep/time to get things accomplished I’m getting.

It’s not so much that it’s worse with two children, but there are more variables. It’s possible that both kids are sleeping well, but more likely that one of them isn’t and the other is, OR that they’re both in a bad sleep phase. I can’t really decide which of those last two options is worse. I mean, if the baby is regularly sleeping in until 7, but I can’t enjoy it because the bigger kid is up at 4, well… that’s great for the baby, I suppose.

It’s no coincidence that I used 4:00 am in that last example, because I have seen that hour more than I care to admit lately.  Sure, some of it is time-change related, but this kid is an early riser, and it’s not without consequences either. As the person who spends the most amount of time with him, I can recognize when his behavior is spiraling into an over-tired state of perpetual motion. Unfortunately, four year olds are notoriously hard to reason with, so telling him he needs to nap/sleep/rest/stay in bed until AFTER the roosters crow is wildly ineffective.

Things have been bad for months. MONTHS. He’s mostly stopped napping, so I can’t blame that. I honestly think he’s too tired to sleep well. Yes,  you read that right. I believe firmly that well-rested children sleep better. Never, EVER, have my children slept longer and more soundly as a result of missing naps or super late bedtimes. Rather, when they’re going to bed at a predictable time and napping, their sleep is more consistent, their moods better.

So, we’ve replaced nap time with quiet time. We spend a lot of time burning off excess energy. We’re limiting screen time. We’re asking him to stay in his room until a certain time. We used to try for 7:00, but that’s a solid THREE HOURS later than he is waking up in the morning, so now I’m asking for six.

This is kind of working. I asked him to stay in bed, but told him he could read, and evidently no one taught this child the concept of an inside voice.  Naturally, the baby wakes up and is so tired she falls asleep in the car before we can make it home for naptime.

Hello car nap. Also, hello whiny, crabby baby from about 4:00 until whenever I decide I can’t take it anymore and put her to bed.

So, what do I do? Seriously, tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.

Do I get up with him at 4:00 when he wakes up? Won’t this just train him to wake up at this hour?

Do we continue to just send him back to his room, knowing he’ll probably wake up the baby? He’s not being loud on purpose, our walls are just impossibly thin and sound carries in a quiet pre-dawn house. It’s really cute to listen to him “read” books he has memorized or make up stories based on the pictures, but it’s 4:00 am. IN THE MORNING.

Should I start playing some sort of white noise in Bubette’s room to drown out whatever other noise might wake her up?

We have tried laying down with him. We have tried letting him get into bed with us. Sometimes, but rarely, this works. Usually he’s so wired that he just sits there, eyes wide open, practically vibrating in place.

What do I doooo?

To Clarify

I added a footnote to my post yesterday, but I’ll put it here too.

I said: I understand the desire to have more children, even if it’s not the best decision from a logistical standpoint.*

I later added: *Edited: What I meant to say here, but said badly, was that I understand the desire to have children for all kinds of reasons. I understand it when it "makes sense" and when it might not. I meant that I get that people make the decision to have children from all different points of view, for all different reasons. I did not mean that I'm making a judgement when people make a different decision than I do. I did not mean that I think there's a right number of children for any family. I'm (maybe not so obviously) kidding when I say that I'm having two because it's what I'm supposed to do.

Hopefully it was clear that this was all about what works for me, and in no way a judgement of how many children other people chose to have.

Since posting, I’ve had a few more thoughts on the subject.

• If I had ended up with two boys, (or two girls,) would that change my decision to be done? Probably  not. I think we were always going to be done with two. I know my husband’s limit is two, although there were many moments during Bubette’s first year that we agreed that we totally understood why people keep having children.

Laura said: I am also Done and it's making me a little sad as Lucy passes through each stage. She's not even 3 months and is wearing 6 month clothes - it's all happening too fast!

This I can relate to, as I felt like this during every milestone during Bubette’s infancy. I feel this less now, perhaps because we’re in kind of a challenging stage with both kids now. Still, back to the original question, I think two was always our limit. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t have longed for one of each, and ultimately I’m thrilled that I have both.

• Swistle said: I've been sad about the end of the Big Life Events, too. But now I'm looking forward to all the other Big Events: each child's graduation, each child's new career, each child's wedding, each grandchild. There are so many of those to look forward to!

And yes, this is totally true. I do look forward to all of those things! However, I was one of the first of my friends to have children. (I was 27 and 30 when my kids were born, so I wasn’t particularly young.) Now, so many of my friends are just starting their families, so it’s odd to be coming from a place where so much of that is behind me. It’s very exciting for me to see this for them, of course. I  just haven’t really been able to reset my mind to be looking forward to future events.

I really loved reading the comments yesterday about how you came to your number, or your feelings on when to have kids, or if you’re done. I would like to now recognize that I realize that having put all of this out there has now put me in first position for a Massive Birth Control Failure. Maybe by acknowledging that, we’ll avoid any surprises.

Done

Here’s how it goes: You get married and people start asking when you’ll have children. Maybe they count the number of ribbons you break while opening your bridal shower gifts, or maybe your parents make thinly veiled demands for grandchildren during their toast. Maybe people joke about bringing a souvenir home from your honeymoon. Regardless, they’re talking and expecting you to deliver. Pun intended.

If you meet their demands for one child, they’ll start asking about the next one. They’ll make assumptions based on the gender of your first. Naturally, you’ll want one of each. They might be so kind as to wait for the first birthday of your first born, but they might even make comments in the recovery room, as you look at your smushed, pink baby and wonder what, exactly, has just happened.

If you follow the protocol and have a second child, one of two things might happen. If you’ve done the socially acceptable thing and graced the earth with one child of each gender, you’re done! People might still “ask” but really they’ll be telling. “You’re done, right? RIGHT? One of each, there aren’t any more choices!”

I’m a rule follower by nature. I have one of each. A Bub and a Bubette. They’re three years apart, almost exactly, and I feel done. Finished.

I think I will always feel a little pang when someone close to me, or even not close to me – thank you very much internet – gets pregnant or has another baby. I think I will always think fondly of my days with a baby, even if I wasn’t necessarily so fond of every minute as it was happening. I will always remember that being pregnant was when I was the most comfortable with my body, no matter how many times I mentioned that I was HUGE.

I understand the desire to have more children, even if it’s not the best decision from a logistical standpoint.* Maybe you don’t feel like your house is big enough, or maybe you’ll need a bigger car when that’s not a great financial choice. I can also understand choosing not to have a child from a practical position. That’s certainly part of my choice. The world functions best for families of four. With two children and a four bedroom house we’ll always have an extra bedroom for a playroom, or for guests. There’s one child for each of my hands, one child for each parent.

I feel like two is my limit. I love my children. I adore my children, but I don’t feel like I need more of them. I feel like our family of four is complete. Done.

There was a time that I didn’t think I wanted a second. One was enough, too much somedays. Now, I’m so glad that there are two. I’m glad that there are two rooms to peek into every night, two voices in the morning. I’m even happy for the fighting, which has already started, because it means they’re brother and sister. Family. Mine.

I’ll admit to being a little bit sad that so many of the Big Events in life are behind me. Getting married, the wedding, the planning, the honeymoon. Getting pregnant, folding your first tiny baby outfit, pairing up impossibly tiny socks. Baby showers. First birthday parties.

But, those things? Just moments. Not the every day reality of life. A wedding isn’t a marriage, and a beautiful baby shower bears precious little resemblance to life with children.

So two it is. They will all be very happy to hear that I’m following the rules, as usual.

*Edited: What I meant to say here, but said badly, was that I understand the desire to have children for all kinds of reasons. I understand it when it "makes sense" and when it might not. I meant that I get that people make the decision to have children from all different points of view, for all different reasons. I did not mean that I'm making a judgement when people make a different decision than I do. I did not mean that I think there's a right number of children for any family. I'm (maybe not so obviously) kidding when I say that I'm having two because it's what I'm supposed to do.

I eat when I’m cranky, okay?

It’s 4:15 on Sunday evening and three of the four of us are still in our pajamas. I could tell you that I’m so over Daylight Saving time, or what I guess is the end of Daylight Saving time, but I’ll just direct you here, to Swistle’s spot-on post about this infuriating day.

This week I didn’t make anything new or spectacular for dinner, but I did make two things totally worth repeating.

Parkerhouse Rolls

I’m not sure that I’ve ever had a Parkerhouse Roll before, and I’ve certainly never made a bread with this much work (kneading, rising, kneading, waiting, folding, waiting,) but it was so worth it and I will definitely repeat it. This recipe made a lot of rolls, so I’m on the hunt for one that will make a smaller batch. (No, I am not interested in doing the math to reduce the recipe myself.) Even my husband, who isn’t the bread addict that I am, gave these two buttery thumbs up.

Apple Crisp (I only used four large apples, rather than the eight the recipe suggested. I used an eight inch pan, and with that number of apples, plus the topping, the pan was full.)

This wasn’t what I expected it to be, but it was good. It was good straight out of the oven topped with ice cream, and it was good when I dug a rather large spoonful out of the pan in the refrigerator this afternoon. I was looking for something a little bit more oat-y than this? Maybe you can read my mind since I’m not explaining it well, and you can direct me toward a new recipe. I still have a TON of apples left.  Still, this was easy, and only used a few ingredients that I’m pretty likely to always have on hand, so I’ll probably be making it again.

Now the weather is gloriously cold, and is supposed to stay that way for the rest of the week, so I’m looking for warm and hearty things for dinner this week. I think I’ll be starting with this chicken stew.

Good

This week, you guys, this weeeeek. It’s been full of first-world problems and selfish tears.  Today, I’m supposed to be getting ready for an overnight trip with my book club friends, but I’m not. That’s all I really want to say about that right now.

I would now like to direct your attention elsewhere, to other lovely corners of the internet.

This was all over my Facebook wall this week, and I cry happy tears every single time I watch it.

Emily wrote the most perfect post this week: Not to get all schmoopy on  you. It’s really the perfect balance of hilarity and sweet parenting moments.

Manda wrote about running, in For a Purpose, and while I was ready to say yes, yes, I totally get all of this, she took it to another level. Where I would have whined about how I almost DIED trying to make it through week one of Couch to 5K, she went and made it mean something.

Finally, on Style Lush, a post about Operation Gratitude and what to do with your leftover Halloween Candy. I’ve been pretty free with the candy this year, as this has been the first year Bub has even REMEMERED that the candy existed after going to bed on Halloween night, but we’re still swimming in candy here.

Did you read or write anything excellent this week? Leave it in the comments. I would love to read it.

Insta-Friday

This week in Instagram/iPhone photos.

 

Non-candy prizes, as requested, for Bub’s preschool Halloween party.

The husband had Monday off, so we strolled through Target while waiting for Bub’s preschool Halloween program to start.

 

On Wednesday, I called my husband to let him know that I was listing Bub on Craigslist, only to find out he was on his way home a solid two hours earlier than usual. We took a family stroll to the park and Bubette made sure he was right next to her the entire time.

Okay Target, my dear, sweet Target. Your dollar section is the source of endless entertainment for my children and me, but a decorate your own snowman kit? In Southern California? I think you may have missed the mark on this one. Am I missing something here? These are pieces meant to be used on a real snowman, right? Like, one made out of snow?

We spent a lot of time at the park this week. Now that Bubette walks, it’s both awesome and exhausting.

We’re getting to the age where she’s entertaining herself so much more. Here, she is pushing her sippy cup around in a stroller, naturally. Once she runs into a wall or a planter, she abandons it.

Happy Friday, everyone.

I’m linking up with Life Rearranged again this week.

Small Style

One of my all time favorite outfits of Bubette’s was this one, by Splendid, one of my very favorite baby clothes lines.

(Remember when her hair used to stick straight up in the air? I loved that hair!)

I’m not the biggest fan of foo-foo all over her clothes, but this outfit, with it’s faux sequins just made my heart sing.

So, when I saw a similar top at Old Navy, in her new size, I grabbed it, and she wore it when we went apple buying.

(You might think I would have a better picture from that day. You would be wrong.)

Paired with jeggings from Carters, and black ballet flats and crazy socks from Target, we have a new favorite outfit. Now, in defense of jeggings. This isn’t something I can embrace for myself (although I want to, so cute! so comfortable!) but on a wee, yet chubby baby, they’re perfect. Is it just me, or do babies look exceedingly uncomfortable in jeans with an actual waistband. These jeggings were part of an outfit, and I can’t find this pair sold separately, which is a bummer because they seem to fit the best.

I’m linking up with Small Style this week.

Next Holiday, Please

There are two things I believe today:

1. It is entirely too early for Starbucks to be using their holiday cups.

2. You should absolutely take a look at the Style Lush Gift Guide.

Yes, I write for Style Lush (every Thursday!) but this is completely ME telling you to take a look. For the past two years, the two biggest hit Christmas gifts in my family have come from this list.

It’s 100 gifts under $25 and it’s really wonderful, thoughtful stuff with something for just about everyone on your list.

There’s also a Food Lush Gift Guide this year, for the first time with 75 gift ideas for the foodie/food lover/all around awesome person in your life.

So, while I think it’s entirely too early for Christmas decorations and Christmas music, I think the time is just right to start thinking about your Christmas list. Hey, maybe you’ll even be done shopping early enough to actually enjoy the month between Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.

The cat and the cupcake

A Halloween photo post! So novel!

So, our neighborhood was fine last night. Just, fine. Not, WOW, so AMAZING! Most of the houses participated, but we only ran into other trick-or-treaters a few times. I know there are tons of kids in the larger neighborhood, so it would have been interesting to drive around and see where, if anywhere, was the place to be.

Bub, though, loved it. Last year was the first year he really got it, and this year he was ready. He had his “Trick or Treat!” and “Thank you!” routine down perfectly, and after every single house he said, “I love trick or treating!” or, “I love Halloween,” which is cute because I… don’t love Halloween and would totally skip it if I didn’t have children. Because I am a Scrooge, I know.

Even Bubette got in on the action, and while she has no idea what candy is, she did know that she wanted something in her bucket, too, thankyouverymuch.

Last year, someone stole our candy bowl. This year, we came home and not only was the candy bowl still there, but there was still candy in it! A neighborhood of rule followers – my kind of people.

And while we’re on the subject of that bowl, I’m curious – if you have children, do you go trick-or-treating as a family, or does someone stay home to pass out candy? Our kids are still so little that I want to go trick-or-treating with them, but I can imagine a day in the future when we’re rock-paper-scissorsing for the privilege of staying home and passing out candy.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to pour Skittles in my cereal bowl.

Oh, and I’m participating in NaBloPoMo this month, for the first time. Do I have it in me to blog for thirty straight days? We’ll see!