Photo Friday

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A present!

It's an awesome dinosaur quilt from my friend S :)




And a bonus...watching the slide show of his photos that MB has set up on the Apple TV:

Photo Friday

Bosom buddies

We had our semi-annual termite inspection today, and I had forgotten that the termite guy inspects the whole house. Including the upstairs bedrooms. Including our bedroom, which I did not think to straighten until it was too late. So there I sat, amusing Nico in the living room and trying desperately to remember just how bad things were. Did I dare to hope that the pile of clothes on the dresser wasn't as sloppy as I remembered? Or that the termite guy doesn't make his bed either and wouldn't judge us? Oh, God, did I leave that empty tampon box lying on the bathroom sink?! Then I decided that surely the termite guy has seen worse than whatever our room has to offer and tried to stop worrying about it. After all, a friend of mine once left a vibrator and a dirty magazine out on her bed and someone's parents stopped by unexpectedly to see the house. Another friend left her positive pregnancy test out on the coffee table and the next day her realtor brought someone by for a showing while she was at work. Nothing like that was on display today, of that I was certain.

But of course, of course when I went upstairs after he was gone, there were my two horribly unflattering worn out white nursing bras, flung willy-nilly on the dresser in plain sight. Just like the time we had electricians in the basement and I forgot until I had to go down there to show them something that my vast and unattractive bras were hanging out on the clothing rack to dry. Or the time that I didn't know the superintendent of the building where I work was going to be bringing construction guys around to measure the office and left my pumping bra draped across the back of the chair in the storage room, where they immediately went and turned on the lights so they could measure stuff. While I was sitting RIGHT THERE, seeing them seeing it, while we all pretended nobody saw anything.

Seriously, though, do you think people in professions that require them to see other people's homes tell stories back at work about all the weird or embarrassing shit they see? Does the termite guy have a notebook where he puts little hash marks down for all the bras and underpants and condom wrappers and sex toys he accidentally sees? And really, now I'm curious...I wonder what the weirdest thing is that he ever saw in someone's house. Hopefully it's not "vast scrungy white nursing bra."

Photo Friday

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A plague on both your houses

We all got some nasty fever-cold-snot thing, one after the other. I'm finally recovered, I think. Nico is still a bit crusty. And then in the midst of the sickness, MB had to go out of town for work. And then there was a city-wide boil order that lasted two days. And now I have to go do all the laundry and dishes I've been putting off while the city tried to figure out if our water was full of bacteria or not. It's a constant party up in this piece, for real.


Reading:  Muse and Reverie by Charles De Lint

Playing:  Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons

Photo Friday

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Such great heights

This guy, man...this guy. I told you about his cup from the bank already, which was cute. That same day, we stopped by the jewelry store so I could get my engagement ring inspected for the warranty. They had a little cheapie calculator sitting on the counter and he seized it. I thought he just wanted to push the buttons, but it turns out he thought it was a phone. He said the word that means phone (which sounds like the word for shoe, inexplicably) and held it up to the back of his head like he does with toy phones. So weird, but so funny.

I shouldn't say this because it's guaranteed to blow up in my face, but he's eating like a champ right now. He eats big bowls of cereal and fruit, hoovers up entire bananas, loves oranges, goes through baby crunchies like crazy, wants more pasta, please. He loves his board books and will bring them to us one after the other, insisting that we read to him. Once we get to the end of a book, he shuts it, flips it over, and presents it again. If I'm distracted when he brings me a book, he'll take my hand, open it, and place the book in my fingers.

He dances to music, in a funny uncoordinated slightly off-the-beat way. He finally waves bye at the right time, instead of after the target of his goodbye wave has already left and the door has closed. He will give high fives. He likes blocks and the dishes and toy food from his play kitchen. If there is an open door within twenty yards, he beelines for it. He looks like a toddler most of the time, and when I look at pictures of him as a round-faced baby I almost don't recognize them. When was he ever that little? That bald? He still doesn't walk, but he has so many words we've lost count. He is the greatest gift, seriously. Mom cliche and all that, but it's true.










(He'll also name the banana, the cat, and the dog, but he got distracted by the expensive camera next to his head. This post is not sponsored by Target and their adorable layered toddler tees, though it might as well be.)

Things I never thought I'd say, number 4

"Don't put the contact lens solution bottle into the poop! OH, MY GOD!"


P.S. And then, much later, Nico peed on my arm while I was carrying him into the Y for his swimming lesson. Did you know that baby swim diapers aren't designed to catch pee at all? I never did before I had someone in my life wearing them. Anyway, it was totally my fault because on the way there I idly mused how it was nice that he'd never done that in all our weeks of swimming lessons. I tried to unthink it as soon as I thought it, but it was far too late.

Subluxation

Yesterday morning I was getting breakfast together for Nico and myself. I had a half-gallon of organic milk for Nico's cereal in one hand and a gallon of regular for mine in the other, and when I turned to set both on the counter, I felt a weird and sudden pop in my back. At first I thought I just tweaked a muscle, but then it started to feel more like something had locked up on me. Doing a few tentative twists to try to stretch out the offended spot resulted in a very distinct WHOOP WHOOP WARNING! kind of feeling. The part of me that doesn't like to make a fuss was thinking I'd just let it ride and try to stretch it out again later. Luckily the more sensible part decided screw it, I'm calling the chiropractor just in case.

Turns out it's a good thing I listened to that part, because even though I hauled my 25-pound kid around all morning without too much trouble (other than this one time when I wasn't careful enough getting into the car and the whole side of my back seized up so suddenly that I found myself hissing goddamn and being grateful Nico doesn't yet repeat what he hears), well...it turns out that I had dislocated a rib. Apparently this can be very painful if you don't get it taken care of promptly.

The chiropractor was able to pop it back in with minimal suffering on my part, and Nico didn't notice when the chiropractor's dog stole the squashed plastic party cup he'd scored out of the bank's prize basket. (We set aside some of our tax return to put into Nico's savings account, and the bank lets kids pick out a toy when they make a deposit. Most of the toys were for older kids, but Nico saw a stack of cheap plastic St. Patricks Day cups and flipped out. He pointed and said, "Puh! Puh! Puh!" which is how he says "cup," and how could I deny him? He happily squashed the cup and chewed on it for the next hour and a half until he chucked it on the floor at the chiro's and her terrier swooped in and snatched it.)

After a few more errands, we went home and took a nap while I put a hot pack on my embarrassingly lame injury. I guess this post kind of went nowhere fast but, you guys...I dislocated my rib getting milk out of the fridge. I couldn't let something that stupid go by without comment.


Reading:  The Stone Child by Dan Poblocki

Playing:  Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons

Photo Friday: Resurrection

When I started posting weekly photos back in 2007, I hoped that making the effort public would motivate me to take more photos, to explore my abilities and the capabilities of my camera, and to consciously look for beauty in unexpected places. The project succeeded beyond my greatest hopes, and I carried my little point-and-shoot to Seattle, North Carolina, San Francisco, and out into my own city. I captured images that I'm immensely proud of to this day, including two that were featured in a juried gallery show (here and here).

After Nico was born, I fell out of the habit of taking pictures. I managed to keep the Photo Friday feature afloat due to the hundreds of photos I'd taken in years past, but eventually I found myself running out of old favorites with no new shots to take their place. I'd fallen victim to a rut of sorts, only feeling that my typical artsy-fartsy macro nature photos were good enough to post. Once I ran out of those, I didn't feel like the other things I had were worth sharing. So I let it slide, each month telling myself I'd pick it up the next month. Now it's been five months and I miss it. I miss taking photos; I miss the way things used to catch my eye; the way the world used to seem open before me, waiting to be captured.

And so I'm bringing it back. It's time. I'm pushing myself to not only take more photos but to expand my opinion of what counts as a good photo. If something is beautiful or makes me smile, maybe it doesn't matter if it's not the most amazing gorgeous thing in the world.




Reading:  The Stone Child by Dan Poblocki

Playing:  Greatest Hits...So Far! by Pink

Man Law

MB to Nico, while changing a poo diaper:  "What did I tell you about the guy code? Remember? You only do this when I am not home. That's rule #5."

Things I never thought I'd say, numbers 2 & 3

"If you don't stop putting your hand in your diaper, I'm going to stick you in a onesie."

"Dude, this isn't a gymnastics competition. It's nursing."

Helter Shelter

I don't usually do this -- and I promise I won't push it -- but in light of the terrible tragedy in New Zealand (and other recent tragedies around the world) I wanted to post about a disaster relief charity I first heard about this week.

Author Maureen Johnson is raising money for ShelterBox, a truly innovative program for families in need. Here's Maureen's post about the project, if you'd like to see what she's doing: http://dft.ba/-shelterbox.

You can also donate directly here: ShelterBox USA / ShelterBoxUK

Each ShelterBox is designed to provide everything a family needs to set up a temporary home when theirs has been lost -- a tent, a stove, water purification supplies, even crayons and coloring books for the children. (It was the crayons that pushed me over the edge and inspired me to donate, as I sat at my desk fighting back tears. And I'm not a cry-er, in general.) To see what a typical ShelterBox looks like, click here.

I know money is tight for everyone. Believe me, I know. But if you can scrape up a few dollars or set aside a small amount from your tax return this year, I'm sure every little bit will help.

One year

I was looking for a few specific photos and fell down a baby picture wormhole tonight. And so, Nico from a year ago:





Nico a few nights ago:






Reading:  Crescendo by Becca Fitzpatrick

Playing:  Greatest Hits...So Far by Pink

Housekeeping

I'm slowing chipping away at the clutter in our house as part of my sole 2011 resolution, and working at my continuing quest to Clean All the Things Most of the Time. I've taken my Declutter All the Things resolution pretty seriously, and after probably way too much thought have settled into something of a three-pronged attack. First, of course, I want to get things out of the house and not bring in a bunch of new things to replace them. Secondly, I want to organize and store what we are keeping in efficient / clever ways. Finally, we are striving to spend smarter. From sticking to a grocery budget and wasting less food to not going overboard on purchases of baby toys and clothes, this has turned out to be a major player in the general life-decluttering game.

Proving that the universe has a sense of humor, I found the book Throw Out Fifty Things buried in a pile of clutter when I cleaned out the side porch to make Nico's playroom. As you can probably tell by the recent lag in posting, I've been pretty busy over the past couple of weeks, so my decluttering efforts have stalled a little. I've been thinking about following the advice in the book and starting a list of things I've thrown out, with the twin goals of kickstarting my cleaning (because I can't resist a list) and of eventually reaching 50 items. The rules stipulate that all of one kind of item just count as one thing on the list, so I can't throw out twenty refrigerator magnets and say I'm almost halfway done.

I'm planning to update the list on this post as I go along, rather than creating a new post each time I chuck something (unless I find something really funny or embarrassing buried in one of the closets). I'm sure this is only entertaining for me, so feel free come back later for cute Nico pictures. Throwing out includes throwing away, giving away, donating to Goodwill, or selling, so most of the stuff on my list will (hopefully) not be stuff that went to the dump.

Throw Out All the Things
1. a big bag of non-preferred plastic food storage containers
2. four reusable water bottles
3. the old gas stove in the basement
4. non-Vista-compatible flatbed scanner
5. the remainder of Nico's powdered baby formula
6. all the expired food that was collecting dust (and guilt) in the pantry
7. let National Geographic subscription expire (I'm counting this since for years I got the magazine but never made time to read it.)
8. five seven boxes of stuff to consignment shop
9. leaky exercise ball that I never used because it was always half flat
10. 90% of the empty boxes from the shelves in the furnace room
11. outdoor trash can full of crap from shed
12. bag of cat-hair-covered curtains from our last apartment + raggedy old throw blanket
13. three boxes to Goodwill
14. one box of items posted on freecycle
15. worm composting bin cleaned out and loaned to my workplace
16. five (!) boxes of books donated to a fundraiser sale for the dog rescue that saved Indy
17. six boxes of stuff + a spare crock pot, dust buster, and rocking chair sold in a yard sale / packed up for consignment / donated to Goodwill / freecycled
18. set of extra (crappy) hand weights
19. garbage bag full of bubble wrap and packing peanuts
20. cool but space-hogging never-used owl mug tree set consigned
21. five pairs of too-small / raggedy jeans Goodwilled
22. kitty litter box freecycled
23. basket of expired baking chips thrown out (sadness!)
24. two shopping bags full of lotions, soaps, and other pamper-y stuff donated to women's shelter
25. whole bunch of old earrings shared with sister / freecycled
26. four cool (but stored under the bed since JUNE 2004 WTF) Japanese panels consigned


Organize All the Things
1. Nico's bitty baby clothes sorted by size into plastic tubs and carried up to the attic
2. outgrown Nico jackets, bitty baby items / toys, and bitty baby bedding / swaddlers sorted into plastic tubs
3. currently-too-big Nico hand-me-downs sorted by size into boxes and stacked in the closet
4. outgrown Nico baby gear Tetrised into guest room closet
5. quote obtained for list of small home repair items we can't complete ourselves
6. breast pump and accessories washed and packed away
7. small home repairs done!
8. shed cleared out and organized
9. last of yard sale remnants sorted into three boxes for consignment and one (small!) one to keep
10. one box from bedroom pile sorted and put away
11. hand weights moved into a basket on the entertainment center instead of lying on the floor and serving as dog hair traps
12. breakfast nook / mudroom organized and top of dog crate cleared
13. whole bookcase of college books and notes carried down to new storage cabinets in the basement



14. two three boxes of non-preferred kid clothes packed up for future yard sale / craigslisting
15. basement decluttered!
16. gift wrapping supplies sorted and moved from guest room to basement

How many gift bags does one family need? Probably not this many.

17. two shelves on living room bookcase cleared / consolidated to make space for Nico things


18. buffet storage decluttered and reorganized
19. space cleared on top of bookcase for Nico's library books
20. one box emptied and removed from Box Mountain


Decluttering & Organizing Goals for 2012
1. clear out guest room
2. finish clearing box stack in master bedroom
3. clean out dining room buffet storage
4. evaluate game collection and pare down if needed
5. solve living room lighting problem
6. reorganize / optimize linen cabinet
7. reorganize / optimize / pare down craft supply closet
8. move all important papers to basement filing cabinet
9. buy a new shredder and take care of stacks of to-shred papers
10. hang caterpillar quilt in Nico's room


2012 Consignment & Craigslist Profit: $29

Consumables

(I stole the consumables concept from the Pop Culture Librarian. I hope she won't mind.)

Watch
In the interest of slimming our budget, we agreed to ditch our cable package. I do miss the DVR, but I don't miss flipping through 200 channels on any given night and finding nothing to watch. We got Apple TV and a Netflix subscription to replace it, and in the interest of getting our money's worth, MB has queued up movies left and right. I had never seen Romancing the Stone, so we watched that last night. It was surprisingly good, especially for an 80s movie. I was impressed with the non-wimpiness of the lead female character. We also watched Chaos Theory, which I'd never heard of before. If you like Ryan Reynolds, you should give it a try. It's a sweet movie and he's funny but low-key in it. If you don't like Ryan Reynolds...well...did you not see his abs in Blade III? Actually, never mind. If you don't like RR, more for me.


Play
After listening to the Decemberists' last album, Hazards of Love, on repeat for the entirety of 2009, I was eagerly anticipating their new one, The King is Dead. I got it from the library this week and was initially underwhelmed, but I think it's starting to creep up on me.





Read
My sister gave me four fantasy / sci-fi novels for Christmas that she thought I'd like, and so I'm currently reading Elantris by Brandon Sanderson. It's the kind of fantasy I usually think of as heavy, with blatantly fantasy-type character names and some made-up language. Usually this is not my style of fantasy as I prefer stuff that doesn't constantly remind me that I'm reading a fantasy, but I am really enjoying the book. It has kind of been a long read for me, but not necessarily in a bad way. I'm hoping to finish it this weekend.


Surf
A few blog posts that I've wanted to email to everyone I know:

Dear Leggings

Maybe I am just an awkward person, but come on, you are, too.

Crime and Punishment


And...hit me
I am in search of a kids' book to pair with Bear Snores On for a program I'm doing as part of a totally nervewracking job interview situation, so if you have a favorite little kid book that involves bears, please let me know.

Say it to my face

I get a healthy dose of schadenfreude-laced amusement out of STFU, Parents, but there's something that's come up over there a few times that is pissing me off to no end. I don't know why I let it get to me since most of the people featured in the submissions are self-absorbed morons, but for some reason it drives me to distraction. Quite often in a post about working moms vs. stay-at-home moms, a smug SAHM or two or three will comment about how SAHMs are superior because they are able to keep clean houses and do the laundry and cook for their kids. I think it pisses me off because my house has never been cleaner than it is now that Nico's sharing it. I do laundry religiously and never have piles and piles of it lying around come the weekend trying to eat my child. And granted, tonight I did eat leftover Super Bowl deli meat pinwheels and an apple for dinner, but Nico had a meat-and-vegetable toddler meal, and we had homemade spaghetti last night and pasta with fish and steamed veggies the night before. Oh, and that was courtesy of my husband, who not only works a full-time job but also teaches a college class and cleans the bathrooms. (Besides, show me someone who never resorts to frozen pizza for dinner and I'll show you someone I never want to meet up with for a beer.) I guess it bugs me so much because it's so utterly baseless and ridiculous. If you're going to bag on me for being a working mom, at least pick something I can't deny, like the fact that I spend the entire workday away from my son while he's being spoiled stinking rotten by his grandmother, his grandfather, AND his aunt raised by strangers.

Speaking of my sorely neglected child, who probably totally sits around in his diaper eating pizza rolls that he microwaved himself because his working parents are too busy putting their careers first to wash his clothes or prepare his meals, he's so much fun right now. He has 3 signs (more, please, water) and more than 20 words. He's constantly trying to figure out the world and put names to things and it's so fantastic to watch him learn. His collection of board books was vastly increased by the back-to-back Christmas / birthday extravaganza, and every time he settles down to page through them, my heart sings at the sight of my little nerdlet in action. When he sees a picture of any wheeled vehicle in a book, he makes his version of engine noises. He knows how to stick his Mega Bloks together and how to take apart the things we build for him. He plays pretend with the little pots and pans in his kitchen. He loves to share oranges with MB. He's learning to treat Mom & Dad's pets gently and tries to share his baby crunchies with Indy. If I try to type on the computer while he's around, he'll come over and grab my pinkie and pull my hand away from the keyboard. He's funny and sassy and sweet and as much as I miss having a little baby, having a little boy is pretty great, too.



Reading:  Elantris by Brandon Sanderson

Playing:  The King is Dead by the Decemberists

Word.

I want a refund

I've always been a vivid, detailed, full-color dreamer. A lot of my dreams are like action movies, and some of them are so utterly badass that I wake up wishing I had one of those subconscious typewriters from The Tommyknockers. This morning, though, I felt utterly ripped off. The last dream I had after putting Nico back in his crib for a rare and much-anticipated lie-in was an incredibly detailed and vivid road trip dream. I was traveling around with several of my friends, hooray, it was really cool! And then we decided to stop at Taco Bell and the rest of the dream was a completely realistic scenario of us realizing several miles down the road that they'd forgotten half of our order and returning to get the rest of our food. For some reason I was elected to go and demand the food and a refund, and then when the Taco Bell manager refused to give me the refund my friends made fun of me as if I'd promised results. Plus they messed up our order again, and doesn't this all sound riveting? I woke up wanting to demand a refund on the time I spent having that stupid dream.


Billionaire

If I ever win the lottery or some other very large cash prize, I will spend a ridiculous amount of my winnings on woot shirts. Thanks to the bibliophile I'm already the proud owner of two woot shirts, the Villainous Victorian Velociraptor and Knock, Knock (Nico is a fan. He thinks the orange is a ball. The placement is slightly problematic as he likes to point to the ball repeatedly.) I made the mistake of looking at the site the other day and now I want one of everything. Okay, not quite everything. But close. Come on, man, this? Gorgeous.

(Gardening at Night)

This is fabulously nerdy:

(Nevermore)

Lovely!

(Transitions)

And just kind of generally cool:

Rise of the Goblin King


Imagine

Last night Nico got the little plastic pots and pans out of his play kitchen and for the first time, stirred around in them with a spoon. Then he dipped a miniature spatula into a pot, raised it to his mouth, and pretended to eat. I lived and breathed pretend play as a child, so obviously I was thrilled. Once he noticed that I was watching him, he wanted me to pretend to eat, too. We'll have to work on his aim, lest I end up with a tiny plastic pasta serving spoon wedged in my nostril.



Bonus video of my kid's creative approach to banana consumption: