Tuesday, January 1, 2013

I would like to preface this letter by stating the we live in a 12 apartment complex that shares two washers and two dryers. To wash and dry one loud of laundry cost $3. This can get very pricey for a family of three with a toddler. Not only is laundry a tedious never ending cycle of drudgery and pain, but someone has decided that I am their mother too and should be in charge of their laundry duties. I politely object. 

Dear Complex Managers,

Please send and an email to the residents of (name concealed to protect identy) apartments stating that is "not okay to put their dirty clothes in the washing machine that others are paying for. Neither is it acceptable to put your jeans in anothers dryer, to what I assume is, " freshen them up"."

I have now found three full outfits (both male and female) in my laundry that do not belong to me. I did not place them in the washer or dryer, and yet they somehow they still find their way in. Normally I would thank the fashion fairy for free clothes and go about my day, but as these clothes are not the right size and of very poor taste and quality, I question said fairy's sobriety.

I am also aware of the theory of "sock worm-holes" in dryers but I've never heard of an entire ensemble materializing. Should this be the case I apologize for my annoyance and would like to congratulate you on this amazing scientific discovery.

Thank you
This broke Mommy

P.S- Happy New Year

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Mommy's back in school!

Today while you were napping, my handsome son, Mommy wrote a short 500 word "story". In order to be a better writer and to hopefully keep from continually boring people to death (seriously the law suits are getting out of control) I am now enrolled in a creative writing course. Creative Writing (Prose) literary fiction to be all technical and junk about it. Below I have reused my first assignment (a self portrait) as a post. TWOFER!  Since I wrote it during nap time it totally counts and I don't feel bad about reusing. 

“What goop should we eat today Big Boy?” I stand before the cupboard debating which prefabbed cube of vegetable flavored mush to feed my son. I can’t believe I feed my son this gestational colored slop.  “Do we want fruit or vegetables?” I ask, waiting for an intelligible response from my unintelligible ten month old. “Da da da vuuuuuurzzzm,” my son decrees, sitting in his high-chair alternating between eating his cheerios and watching them skid across the linoleum when he beats his little fist on the tray.  His lordship is in high spirits today, all may be merry.

I take his charge to mean fruit and it from its place. I don’t feel as horrible spooning the faux fruits into his mouth as I do the vegetables, it feels like less of a lie. I take the three short steps from the cupboard in, our small white-paneled kitchen, to his highchair and sit across from him. I scootch my chair a little closer, and smooth his red-gold baby curls back from his forehead. My utensils are already placed and waiting beside me on the table, an arsenal of brightly colored, ergonomically designed spoons, their mismatched patterns are an affront to the calm sophistication of the chartreuse tablecloth. A pristine paper towel and off to the side a Sippy cup that’s most often used as a missile, rather than for hydration.

 While ripping the foil off the container marked “Roasted apples”, I’m splattered with pieces of pulverized apple flesh, wincing at the sudden, though not unexpected, shower and place the foil in line beside the others. It’s one of the nicer smelling substances I’ve been perfumed with today.
Stirring the roasted apples my son and I start in on our mealtime chatter. His sweet baby chatter fills the kitchen overtaking the summer sounds outside, the cicadas and birds carry on a gentle background noise ebbing in and out of our stories. This is one of our favorite parts of the day. No messes for mommy to clean are clamoring for my attention, no toys demanding his care.

He only allows me a few attempts to feed him, before relieving me of my spoon and feeding himself. He waves his half empty spoon in the air, splattering us both with more apples in his gleeful gestures. He laughs as he puts the spoon back in his mouth, clenching and unclenching it between his teeth to make it dance. I laugh at his slapstick while I rub the residue off my glasses.
The tribal paint on his face and tray are  soft beiges and light browns, subdued in hue but shining in texture. The fresh markings are easy to wipe away with his bib, but the older ones will have to wait for his bath.

I remove the tray from his highchair and give the final mealtime command. “Up”. He smiles and waves his baby sweet arms at me and I lift him from his chair. Hidden cheerios fall off his lap.  

Monday, August 6, 2012

Some one's gonna have to send me to crafters rehab

Today, while you napping, my curious critter, mommy took a moment to step back and look at all the new projects she's started since she vowed to not start any new crafts until the old ones where done. Here are all the new crafts I started:

Felt book that only spells half your name and isn't sewn together. 

Monster party favors for your Birthday party in 3 months. I like them because
 my bad sewing and inability to cut a straight line just ad to their charm (right? RIGHT?)

Second more flattering angle of Monsters.  Old lumpy
up top thought he looked to hippy in the last picture. Only ten more to make! 

Deblurring...um de-cluttering my desk my cluttering up my memory board.
Now with nifty thread holder in green made from a paper towel roll (It's an empty roll, just to be clear). 

Nailed the deblurring part! Yep, those are peeps from last Easter (featured in the lower left corner).
I want to see how long it'll take them to start glowing in the dark, or clucking. Which ever happens first. 

Monster envelopes for your Birthday invites, yes the Birthday that's not until October.

A candle made from a clementine (found this one via this site from Pintrest).
I wanted to send a message to the other clementines. 

Poorly covered toy box made from an old diaper box and an
old ripped curtain it's supposed to look like this.

A tenth of the boarder for the kitchen 

Wiggly-eye frame for your first Birthday picture (my main crafting premise
 for your Monster birthday party is put wiggly-eyes on it and it's a monster). I still have many,
 many eyes to apply. 

Picture frame for a photo of your first trip to the beach, that was
 two months ago, that I still haven't developed pictures for. 

Clementine after four hours.

And those sweet boy, are just the ones I'm not to embarrassed to show (and the only ones I remember starting, I'm sure I'll stumble over many many more).

Also, I am in LOVE with the clementine candle.

Seriously, I might write it a poem or a novel that involves star crossed lovers and mythological creatures like werewolves and vampires or rewrite the Minotaur legend into a post-apocalyptic love story that involves reality TV(see what I did there? HUH? HUH? I'm a callin' you out Hunger Games ( I love you more than the candle so it's said with love) to describe my love for you.  Or maybe instead I'll rewrite Gone with the Wind, but set it on Mars and it'll be all about how awesome this discovery is. (I don't know nuthin 'bout lighten no candle!) 

And back to the candle itself, I found the instructions for it here. The way the blogger describes the process it looks like she flips the rind inside out and gets all gentle with it.

I found it easier to cut the clementine in half and just scoop out the flesh. That way the "wick" is fully in tact and you don't break the peel. It does take a long time to light, so long I had to switch lighters so my thumb wouldn't catch on fire.

Who needs photo shop? I have crayons! 

I'll post back later today when the clementine goes out, I'm really curious to see if it'll last 8 days. This would be an awesome Sunday school or Hanukkah teaching project. I will also finish all these projects! In 8 days! Ha, that's the best wrap up I've ever written. 

Sunday, July 8, 2012

I will finish what i have sta

Today, while you were napping, my fearless little boy, Mommy spent sometime looking at all the "almost" and "just about" finished projects she's started. This blog, my last blog, my degree, this painting from 2009.

Being unfinished didn't keep me from hanging.

Not only is it cluttering up our already, tiny apartment, but it's actually kind of depressing.  

So mommy is going to embark on a big, time consuming adventure. No matter how tedious, or hard, or stressful, Mommy is going to catalog all her unfinished projects and then she is going to complete them gosh darn it. 

No matter how many awesome projects that'll take "just a couple minutes" I find on Pinterest like-


or this

cool stuff! <3 <3

or these 

or this

Or how many episodes of Martha Stewart I watch, I WILL FINISH WHAT I HAVE STARTED. I will, I mean it. Umm...but um ...maybe one for the road, cause I have some of the stuff for most of these, I'm just missing a couple or "ingredients". 

And to prove I'm going to finish what I start, I'm gonna change subjects mid-post and talk about how brave you were at your first fireworks show! Mommy was ready, if the loud bangs and lights flashing scared you, to run for the car and hop a plane to England until the fireworks were over, but nope! You were spell bound, you sat on the grass in the park in awe of pyrotechnics. Then you actually tried to touch the fireworks! You kept looking at me and Daddy like "Guys, are you seeing this? Is this for real?! Tell me I'm not the only one seeing this, why are you not more excited?!".

I'm so proud of you, 8 months old and already reaching for the heavens.

Saturday, June 23, 2012

I really wish

Today, dear boy, while you were napping, Mommy spent way to much time on Pinterest. An you know what? Pinterest needs a "Hide" button. So I can pin really awesome, crafty, witty presents and then take all the credit for them. 

Friday, June 22, 2012

I miss the cats

Today, my diminutive dreamer, while you were napping, Mommy started decorating for our little family Graduation party for Daddy. He's officially an exercise scientist and has his bachelor's degree! GO DADDY! I made him the world's longest and worst proportioned banner in the history of the universe, and then made some pretty cool pom poms in our University colors (because what do men think of when they think of celebration? Frilly tissue paper balls). 

And that's when thingsgot mysterious and spooky altogether ookey........I relized the cats are at your grandparents now. So when say, I hear shampoo bottles fall in the bathroom, or a bag of something shift in a cubboard or chains rattling and someone saying "Get out! Get out!", I can't blame it on feline shenanigans (different ways I tried to spell that before spellcheck  figured it out- shinangins, shinnnagens, shenananagains) anymore. So here's my proof of haunting:

SEE! they even changed the post so it's not right side up anymore!
Ok, sweet boy, when you wake up we're gonna go buy a bunch of sage to burn and find a couple priest to bless the apartment so Mommy can sleep tonight. 

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Holy Mother of all Tornadoes

OMG my sleepy little boy, while you were napping and Mommy was napping, daddy was awfully quite.

I'm gonna preface this photo the way Daddy prepared me for it: "I'm going to clean it up, don't freak out, I'm just organizing it."
Look at that! Specters came from beyond the grave to look at it!
Or maybe they just got here early to visit with Daddy after I KILLED HIM.

I didn't blink breath or pump blood through my body for about half a century and then it got bigger:


And then Mommy had to go sit down and eat a tub of cool whip.