midnight at the cabaret

Change of address

2009-02-25T00:00:00.003-05:00

I'm making the change to wordpress.

Pop on over and find me at the new blog site: Velvet Chair.

Hope to see you just around the bend.

She's paying for her own diapers from now on

2009-02-20T16:45:00.002-05:00

We have a neat art museum in our city that recently requested any person from the community to submit an 8x10 piece of artwork, frame provided, for a large mosaic-style installation that is currently hanging in the East Gallery of the building. There were over 550 people of all ages who contributed to this event. I'll give you one guess about who made this red painting.

Fugedaboutit!

2009-02-20T16:15:00.006-05:00

I know, I know, you're wondering if the dog mentioned in the post below has taken all of my extra time and instead I'm out walking the heck out of a fuzzy 4-year-old canine instead of creating witty posts (with totally random photos!) to help you through your mundane work day. Well, the short answer is no, but thank you for the emails. We did not get the dog. Turns out that someone else had fallen head over heels for her as well (or was just quicker at convincing her husband that the dog was about to be given a one-way trip to the doghouse in the sky any day now, when actually our humane society no longer euthanizes, but I forgot to mention that when we were in negotiations over the adoption. I am so not a nice person) and had taken her home on the day I finally talked Chris into adopting her.

Probably for the best, but I'm now officially banned from returning for any reason. We'll see about that.

So this photo. This is what I call my daughter's New York look. She was trying to smear oatmeal on the lens of my digital SLR because apparently her putting Hello Kitty stickers on my arms and drawing on all of my fingers wasn't near enough of a reminder to me that I live with an unpredictable 2-year-old tornado; I also needed an expensive piece of camera gear riddled with apple cinnamon breakfast cereal. I feel the love.

I Just Cannot Help Myself

2009-01-16T13:28:00.005-05:00

So you know me? Then you already know that I have no willpower over animals. If my dog, Natasha, wanted to sleep on my pillow at night and drool in my hair, I'd most likely let her. It's just good karma, I believe.

Now that our household is down to one dog (yes, we once had 3 large dogs pooping in our 1.5 acre yard and eating 30 pounds of premium dog food each week), we have decided to adopt a 4-year-old mix from our local shelter. In my opinion, the best dogs are the ones who have never had a good home and are in the most desperate of needs. This particular dog that we're planning to adopt has been at the shelter for nearly 2 months, and not a day goes by that I haven't thought of her.

We have plenty of love and snuggling to spare and I surely won't be able to sleep tonight as I'll be up thinking of all the great things I can show her about life in a dog lover's home.

UPDATE: I called the humane society and they told me that someone else had put a hold on this particular dog. I will have to wait until Sunday to find out if they adopt her or not. I'm beside myself. Dang. This stinks.

Wondering if I could cover every wall of my home with this stuff without having to explain it to my husband

2008-11-13T12:21:00.006-05:00

Vintage wallpaper is so cool.

I remember my great grandmother having the best cabbage rose pattern in the bedrooms of her little, modest Michigan lake cottage. I loved to lie in the big queen bed with wet hair while smelling of sand and sun and looking for the repeated flowers.

from Secondhand Rose

Scent of mothballs not included.

Future head of mechanical engineering

2008-11-11T14:17:00.004-05:00

So you know those clippy elastic things that keep mittens attached to coats? Seems my child has an aversion to stuff she cannot toss to the ground. I purchased a pink pair of them last night and victoriously ratcheted them to her winter coat before we left the house this morning; all the while thinking, "There is no way in hell she will be able to open these. No way." Then in the car on the way to daycare I hear her precisely rip each one off from her purple-sleeved jacket and throw them slowly and deliberately to the floor.
I. Can. Not. Win.

Just browsing, thank you

2008-11-10T15:02:00.007-05:00

I often type search words into Flickr and look at the pretty pictures from random accounts. I then say things to myself like, "Oooh, wow," and, "Oh, my goodness," which my daughter now repeats several times a day. It's a weird pastime that I enjoy when I'm waiting for a phone call, trying to ignore someone or, in today's instance, just had one too many caffeinated beverages.

This is a gorgeous lamp post that I'd like to find and stand under if I ever make it to Florence, Italy.

from Flickr account Curious Expeditions

Cats

2008-11-10T14:44:00.006-05:00

A little late in posting this, but Halloween was wonderful. A few highlights:

glowsticks as bracelets, Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown (one of my absolute favorites), Hershey's bars, lions and their adorable tails, jack o' lanterns the old fashioned way, cooking pumpkin seeds while sipping hot, spiced cider, carriage rides through downtown with family, fall candles.

That sums it up nicely. Okay, now I'm ready for Spring.

All Hallow's Eve

2008-10-31T14:17:00.002-04:00

I love Halloween.
Currently listening to Jill Tracy, drinking Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte, and mentally piecing together my costume for the night's festivities.
Be safe everyone.

Animal lover

2008-10-28T12:58:00.010-04:00

This little girl loves her some animals. She talked about this pony for the rest of the afternoon and cried endlessly as we were leaving because we wouldn't spend another 4 dollars on a second ride.

She ran through the parking lot cursing our names and tried to hitch a ride from another visiting family from West Lafayette who were attempting to stuff their small son into his car seat as he was also spewing profanities to his parents about wanting to take another hayride and they were all, no way, mister, hayrides don't grow on trees, to which he smartly responded, but you know what does grown on trees? bad, mean parents, to which they quickly slid their minivan door closed and sped off down the dirt road.

I am liking this necklace and am considering an early holiday present to myself

2008-10-23T16:51:00.006-04:00

It's got to be the change in the weather that's prompting me to want to wear something like this. It's feminine and quite kitschy. I love it lots.

from etsy seller lechic

Befitting of her middle name

2008-10-21T23:14:00.004-04:00

We enjoyed a really great weekend which included a free children's movie (no thanks to the crabby, grumpy lady who wouldn't move her damn coat for us because she said that someone was sitting there. Um, unless you've got yourself an invisible friend in that fleece jacket there, sweetie, I didn't see anyone come sit in that last empty seat in the theater and my 2-year-old daughter spent every bit of 75 minutes squirming in my lap and grinding buttery popcorn kernels into my crotch, thanks to you), pumpkin spice lattes, a trip to the wind farm in Benton County (look it up, super cool) and many other fun autumnal activities. I'll be sure to remember these days as I'm cursing the cold weather in just a few short weeks.

My dwelling just might look a little like this if I lived in a fancy New York space without baskets of mermaid and animal plastic toys to trip over

2008-10-18T22:45:00.008-04:00

I've always had a great appreciation for clever design and color; despite the fact that my own wardrobe is mostly the same 6 colors and none of them are actually all that bright, come to think of it. My chameleon-like tastes include lots of things which could include painfully modern, silly vintage, highly dramatic and heavy baroque; and I'm a Pisces, so it all depends on, you know, my mood.

I also spend oodles of time and brain power thinking about, sketching and looking at interesting shapes and style. This contemporary wall radiator (yes, that slip-n-slide banana-yellow thing on the wall) is a great example of an innovative mind. It kind of reminds me of that sketch on SNL with Maya Rudolph and Fred Armisen where they play a German couple who live in an all white apartment and have unrecognizable modern chairs and she wears a white 1/2 dress, 1/2 pantsuit, has a severely asymmetrical haircut and she and her husband (who wears a lavendar jumpsuit) cannot properly pronounce the very common names of her daughter's dates. Okay, yes, I do need a night out; thanks for asking.

from trendir

Change of pace

2008-10-14T13:49:00.004-04:00

I camp with this wonderful bunch every year for a weekend at the Feast of the Hunter's Moon. We sing songs, play music, cook amazing campfire meals and catch up with everyone. I've been going to this event since the early 90s and I'm so happy that we're going to now start taking a yearly group photo like this. Can you spot me, Chris and Rosemary?

Reflection

2008-10-14T13:05:00.005-04:00

Without going into too much sap and sadness and kleenex, yesterday marks the eighteenth, I hesitate to say, 'anniversary' of my taking a handful of pills to, um, chase the blues away.
I remember the room, smells, sounds (The Smiths, Strangeways, Goddamn awesome album, by the way) playing on the boom box on the dresser, my depressed state of mind and all of the stupidness of that afternoon's decision. After being rejected from the campus hospital ('Hey, we don't take suicide situations!'), an awkward stomach-pumping, hours of crying, inept hospital counseling, failing miserably at trying to explaining myself to my devastated mother, I never thought that I'd be talking about this on an open forum like this (I mean, this was before Al Gore invented the internet, for goodness sakes); but as I get older, I find that sharing your own difficult experiences makes you confront your own deficiencies, and maybe even help someone else feel less embarrassed by just coming out and saying, 'I've done dumb things, too; and I'm here for you if you need me.'

I have a friend who often says, 'It ain't all rainbows and unicorn farts.' That, my friends, is honest, eloquence defined.

Something for me to remember when I'm resisting the urge to bang my head into a bloody mess on the floor

2008-09-12T08:04:00.004-04:00

My little sweetpea turns 2 next week. I'll post more later about her, um, delightful behavior as of late; but for now, I'll just repost this little reminder that someone recently shared with me.

The "Toddler's Creed" appeared in the syndicated weekly newspaper article "Families Today" by T. Berry Brazelton. It is a nice reminder of the stresses we feel with normal behavior of toddlers.

If I want it, it's mine.

If I give it to you and change my mind later, it's mine.

If I can take it away from you, it's mine.

If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.

If it's mine, it will never belong to anybody else, no matter what.

If we are building something together, all the pieces are mine.

If it looks just like mine, it is mine.

Lovely organization

2008-09-02T22:54:00.002-04:00

I don't know if it's the picture I like or the actual concept of keeping delicate jewelry from becoming a vining mass of chains with cutesy, bright mismatched china pieces; but this speaks to me.

from martha stewart

Heading out first thing tomorrow to get this dog a chewy, messy rawhide bone

2008-09-02T22:22:00.004-04:00

From having pacifiers and sippy cups energetically pushed into her face, to toddler offerings of toothbrushes and mermaid dolls piled on top of her back; Natasha endures countless moments of this sort of canine humiliation without complaint. Go out and get yourselves a dog just like this. She's great.

Although probably not for a Moose Lodge audience

2008-09-02T21:51:00.008-04:00

I recently saw the band The Henhouse Prowlers for the second time and it just reinforces the fact that I adore this kind of music. They also sang a song about 'the first train robbery in Indiana' and also boast the alias name of Sexfist to ensure placement in punk/rock venues.
That, my friends, is brilliant.

Helping others

2008-08-27T21:11:00.007-04:00

I heard about this story from a fun, little blog I frequently enjoy and I feel horribly for this family. Please visit here and here to help out and score some great stuff, too:

"Nie Nie Day on Thursday.
For those who haven't heard, my blogging friend Stephanie Nielson and her husband were in a terrible plane accident. They are in critical condition and Stephanie has third degree burns covering about 80% of her body. Recovery will be long and very expensive. To help raise funds, Design Mom has declared Thursday Nie Nie Day. Starting tomorrow all over the internet there will be auctions and things for sale--including here on Oh Happy Day. I've heard some whisperings of some of the things that will be auctioned and there is some seriously amazing stuff. Design Mom will post a comprehensive list of all the auctions going on.So tomorrow get your pocketbooks ready...and please forward this information to all your friends."

If there is anything you can do to help, please consider doing so. The internet is a wonderful thing.

Added to the list of a musical chameleon's summer soundtrack

2008-08-27T12:21:00.009-04:00

Pandora radio is quickly making my workday that much less productive. Is it overdramatic to say that I think it is life-changing? Yeah, I think so too. I realized just this morning that not only can I listen to my favorite workout stations on my phone (hooray for technology!) while at the gym (Stevie Wonder, Fugees, Erykah Badu, etc); but I can also yank out the cord for my xm radio dock at work and hurredly run back and forth in my heels and flared capris from my work bench and the connected iPhone to see which new artist is currently playing.
I now have a rapidly growing list propped on top of the amplifier and I'm jotting down artists that I'm loving.
Here are just a very few from my first two hours of messing around with workplace music:
Nouvelle Vague (with my love affair of most things French, how have I not heard of them until now?)
Lisa Ekdahl
Emiliana Torrini
Pink Martini
Catherine Feeny

What's on your playlist?

Matching dishes are for sissies

2008-08-26T14:56:00.004-04:00

Here's that photo I was looking for last week and if I had my way, this is how the inside of my cabinets would look. My roommate, however, is all matchy-matchy about stuff and would certainly develop an awful nervous facial tic if exposed to this level of disorganization.

Working girl

2008-08-25T21:26:00.003-04:00

I'll admit that maybe I have a wee obsession with photos of my daughter; but, seriously, are you stinkin' kiddin' me? She provides the best photo opportunities.

Five things I will not do again, at least for 10 or 11 days

2008-08-22T12:54:00.003-04:00

1. Go to the gym, forget to put socks in my bag and decide to run anyway. My heels are a bloody mess. Literally. I mean, Target was like 1/4 mile away.
Upon realizing my amateur mistake, I sheepishly walked up to the counter at the gym with my head down and said, "Um, do you sell socks?'.
To which she replied, "Aren't you the girl who asked me last week if we sold deoderant?".
2. Go to the gym, forget my deoderant and decide to run anyway.
3. Be deep in conversation with my husband at the end of the day and grab the first small tube of 'toothpaste' out of the medicine cabinet that's available. Let's just say that he has a case of The Athlete's Foot and is messy about keeping his junk on his own shelf.
4. Assume that friends are forgiving.
5. Underestimate the vining ability of a backyard pumpkin patch.

What I've loved most about this summer

2008-08-20T11:04:00.001-04:00

I've received countless dandelions, leaves, acorns, pieces of mulch, fancy flowers from neighbor's yards, clover and dead tree twigs from her this summer. It's the best.

And yet he's totally fine with his masculinity

2008-08-20T10:54:00.003-04:00

I stuck this on the dash of my husband's vehicle one day while we were parking the car to go to the park with our daughter.
Upon seeing it, he immediately swiped it off it's happy little perch and said something like, 'No effin' way!'.
But, then, a transformation.
I can't be sure if the purple and pink glitter mane caught the sun in such a powerful way that he was overcome by the beauty and glow of the tangerine body, but he gently relented to keeping Rosemary's My Little Pony there for longer than about three minutes.
Now I am unable to resist the urge to keep that information to myself.

Things that bring me an unreasonable amount of pleasure

2008-08-06T14:39:00.007-04:00

I've always liked old junk.

Not in a greasy, car mechanic kind of way. More of a musty, cedar chest kind of way.

Clothing, jewelry, scarves, shoes, hats, flatware, postcards, dishes, and on and on.

Here's a typical exchange between a man and said junk-admiring woman: "You know what, sweetie, I'd really rather have a $3 rhinestone necklace than this emerald ring." He's a darn lucky man, that one.

I'm just going to come out and say that there's absolutely no money exchange going on here for my review of the wonders of their shop; unless, of course, they want to unload that shoebox of sparkly jewelry behind the counter I eyeballed as I was paying my $7 for three necklaces. Just a thought.

These are some some neat things I saw at my pre-lunch jaunt to the current favorite antique/junk shop. I also had some wonderful photos of stacked pastel dishes and graphic tablecloths, but now cannot seem to find them. I'll just keep you waiting on that and will give you something else to sigh over for another day.

I never get tired of these. Ever.

2008-08-05T14:50:00.002-04:00

I love these comics. So fun.

Fellow design aficianados

2008-08-05T08:47:00.004-04:00

What do you think of the new site?

Does it make you go cross-eyed? like in a bad way?

Are you glad to have some additional color on the page? but would rather it not be in a fuzzy wallpaper kind of way?

Looking for some feedback here.

I love to hate you

2008-08-04T22:59:00.006-04:00

One box of tissue in my truck.

Another on the back of the toilet.

One more on my desk at work.

Picked up another (with cute little blue shells, actually) tonight at the supermarket.

And I use toilet paper whenever convenient.

I have grass allergies, which is so completely cruel as I worship summer and her aromotic river matted hair. She is my goddess and I am merely her pollen slave.

Tonight I thought maybe I should see what the heck is going on in the air around here as my head is a bucket of clear, running snot; so I checked pollen.com and found out that central Indiana is at a 9.6 out of 10 this week. Which means I am doomed to sneezing gluey, sticky snot into my right shoulder for the next several days (not to mention stuffing a twisted-up kleenex into my left nostril to avoid excessive leakage into my pillow tonight. Totally hot).

If I weren't a current member of the 'Freaky Toddler Nursing Club', I'd just go get some dang Benadryl already. Cripe.

Suggestions, anyone?

Five things that are awesome

2008-07-24T16:28:00.003-04:00

1. Listening to the new Erykah Badu album on the way to pick up my daughter (and always turning it down as I enter the parking lot as the bass is ridiculous).
2. Iced vanilla chai on a hot July afternoon (however the one I'm currently drinking is stupidly sweet. Damn you, new barista).
3. Rereading this book for my recent book club (good summer read, pretty emotionally draining, though. You've been warned).
4. The embarassed smile on Rosemary's face which is then followed by the squeal of 'MOMMY' when I walk in the door at daycare (this whole situation with her daycare is only newly awesome. It was very much not awesome 4 weeks ago).
5. Lightning bugs.

Thumbs down

2008-07-18T15:25:00.002-04:00

You wanna know something that I wouldn't recommend?
Reheating quinoa (KEEN-wa) for a second meal.

Busy bee

2008-07-18T15:07:00.006-04:00

Boy.
Have I ever been busy this summer.
I had wanted to post this picture as proof that my child does indeed do things that are totally against my wishes (she's not always the angel that you normally see, her little horn buds are just below skin level). She did this when I brought her in to work with me one day; as such we've since gotten her daycare schedule back in place.

File under: Future Fun Stuff

2008-06-19T17:21:00.004-04:00

How fantastic would a fairy party be for a little girl?

I'll have to remember this idea from Cookie magazine.

Right up my alley.

Wonderful

2008-06-17T15:02:00.007-04:00

I am so loving this woman right now.
Melody Gardot.
She's 23.
Do not ever ask to borrow it because it is never leaving the cd player.

I have to think that if I had any musical talent to speak of and could do more than play butchered versions of classical tunes on piano from sheet music, I'd very much like to sound exactly like this.

Wanted to buy: heavenly king-sized hotel bed

2008-06-14T23:16:00.011-04:00

I'm newly home from our two day mini vacation (can you still smell the chlorine in my hair? Yep, that's right) to sunny Indianapolis, Indiana. We braved the unpredictable weather for the Indianapolis Jazz Fest yesterday; Medeski, Martin and Wood with John Scofield, mainly. The event in general was a colossal disappointment (see forthcoming dialogue for just one tiny example). However, today was spent happily at the Indianapolis Zoo and the butterfly exhibit in the adjoining White River Gardens. To say that traveling with a child under the age of 2 is challenging, is like saying that my red chiffon, thrift shop, senior prom dress that optimistically hangs in the back of my closet next to size 4 sundresses is only a little bit on the snug side.

'Look at the cute sippy cup I got Rosemary! It's got zoo animals on it and a flip top with a straw. You know how she loves that kind of thing.'

'That's kind of neat.'

'Yeah, lots of joy for just six bucks.'

'Six bucks?! That could have almost bought a beer at the Jazz Fest last night.'

'But instead I blew it on a vacation souvenir for our daughter. How awful of me.'

Fessin' up

2008-06-14T23:08:00.004-04:00

This little photo was taken just days BEFORE my iPhone broke (had absolutely nothing to do with a 20-month-old girl dropping it 5 feet onto ceramic tile). Anywho, all I can say is that if you've ever owned an Apple product, you will know that their service is amazing; which made almost every bit of the $400 I embarassingly paid them 2 months ago for this product totally worth it.

Looking out for my own best interest

2008-06-04T18:41:00.005-04:00

We visited the Children's Museum of Indianapolis yesterday with my friend Jenny and her son (who was born the day after my daughter, weird) and had a fabulous time (thanks so much for driving! with a/c!). That place is just so darned wonderful and I got loads of photos. One spot in particular is their large carousel on the top floor. My initial plan was to take some great shots of the horse's faces to frame and mat for Rosemary's room (easy art, that's what I like); however, when I downloaded them off of my camera, they were just a wee bit, oh, I don't know, creepier than I was expecting. Not really sure what I was thinking as I still cannot identify my own source of intense clown phobia. So I decided that maybe macro images of fiberglass horses above my child's bed probably isn't the way to go as it would undoubtedly resurface in a future therapy session when she's an adolescent and I certainly don't want to be living with that sort of guilt.

The difference between men and women

2008-06-04T18:31:00.002-04:00

I showed this picture to my husband and the first thing he said was, "Oh, look. She got paint on the table."

Why we've been together for nearly 14 years

2008-05-28T14:38:00.004-04:00

"So I'm guessing you probably want me to go the wedding with you this weekend, huh? I just don't get it. It's 2 1/2 hours away and I won't know ANYone there."

"It's the nice thing to do, and, yeah, I would like you to go with me. You don't get a prize for doing something nice for someone, you know."

"I need to call a guy friend and see what he says. This seems totally unfair."

"While you're on the phone, ask him where you can find a nice pair of pants to wear to the weddding."

You should have seen the other kid

2008-05-28T14:31:00.002-04:00

This is what I had going on yesterday.

My daughter slipped on a doormat at our front door and fell face first into a doorstop at our home.

The ones without the rubber ends.

Like the variety without the fun, springy, boingy sound.

The OLD ones that you'd probably find in antique stores today because parents from the 30s were fed up with their kids thinking they were so much fun to play around.

Three stitches.

And that's all I really want to say about it because I was not home for any of it, which was probably a good thing.

Stacy London, I would totally hang out with you

2008-05-16T23:03:00.008-04:00

Should I really be feeling this excited about having a weekend to myself? I chose to not attend random folk festival camping event 3 hours away with my husband and a few other mutual friends in favor of staying home for planned pajama pizza party with some moms and their kiddies and to slowly overdose on What Not To Wear on TLC.

Tomorrow? WHO KNOWS. I may fleatique shop with Rosemary all afternoon in search of those great old beady necklaces I like. The cheap ones, because I'm all about quantity with crap jewelry. That and a new thrift shop purse. And tweeze my eyebrows.

Oh, the anticipation.

Uh, so maybe I was wrong

2008-05-15T14:09:00.007-04:00

I had planned on posting something yesterday about how excited, and insanely nervous, I was about converting Rosemary's crib into a toddler bed with the two short side rails. I came home from work a little early and decided that maybe it was time for the switch (seeing as she climbed INTO her bed the other day by stepping up onto her kitchen that was strategically placed against the side). I did all of the preparations and exaggerated the fun of the experience.

"Look at the BIG GIRL BED!"

"It is soooo NEAT!"

"Now you can get up whenever you want!" (Oops, probably shouldn't have mentioned that one).

We read books together in her 'new' bed, she did a little jumping on it and we talked about how, now that the side was kind of open, it was going to be different, and way more fun.

Two hours later we heard a significant thud in her room. I thought, hopefully, that my husband had fallen over the dog, again, as he sometimes does; but we found our daughter lying on her back, still wrapped in her Thomas the train blanket screaming, with Elmo next to her on the floor.

After deliberating for about 0.12 seconds (and watching the milk slowly make perfectly formed circles on my shirt from all the crying), the crib rail was back in her room and we fished out the tiny Allen wrench from the Ziploc bag with the other crib accessories.

On the bright side is that no one was hurt (Elmo also received proper medical care, if you were wondering) and that my husband now is trained in the proper installation of a bumper pad with 24 ties at 11:45 at night, should I ever require that service again.

Over coffee Friday morning

2008-05-13T15:38:00.005-04:00

"It was so nice going out with you this weekend. Hanging out and having a few drinks together, just the two of us, made it feel like old times again."

"No, if it were like old times again we would have come home smashed and had sex on the kitchen table."

I wonder if Hallmark makes a card for this

2008-05-13T08:10:00.004-04:00

I'm still feeling really crummy for not making the drive to see my mom on Mother's Day. She was in town for the two days prior and Rosemary was wiped out from her sleep pattern being unpredictable during the visit (not to mention staying up until about 11 pm during Friday's Gallery Walk festivities).

Man, I must really suck as a daughter and I'm feelin' pretty selfish right about now.

How brilliant is this guy?

2008-04-09T13:48:00.003-04:00

I like this kind of stuff. Enjoy.
(ps-try to read all of them, as they get quite innovative)

Five great things I did this weekend

2008-04-07T22:45:00.004-04:00

1. Continued to teach my daughter how to play 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' on the piano. With only her index finger.

2. Went to the park 4 times.

3. Met several new mom friends through my mom's group (see number 2, above).

4. Filled a large bag with coats and winter stuff to take to Goodwill; and started some spring cleaning (a little redecorating, moving stuff around and general fancying up) . I am so over cold weather.

5. Sat in the mulch in the backyard and showed Rosemary how to blow bubbles in the sunshine.

Ray of sunshine

2008-04-01T15:39:00.002-04:00

A lovely (overexposed, yet interesting) bunch of flowers that I recently received. I like flowers, see.

From the mouth of Generation X

2008-03-29T12:28:00.005-04:00

I do not need to see Iggy Pop without a shirt anymore. It makes me feel icky.

Many jokes about blue dresses were heard

2008-03-26T16:32:00.006-04:00

Former president Bill Clinton was in town this week to campaign for his wife's presidential campaign and I insisted in joining the throng of Lafayette natives who chose to go check out all the fuss.
We all had initially wanted to attend together (well, I can't speak for Rosemary as I believe that she'll be voting for Ron Paul, and my husband really needed to be persuaded with dinner and potato chips, so I guess I'll just say that maybe I was the only one who wanted to be there). I can't really explain my intense need to be physically near the event as I'm still undecided in my own personal choice for candidacy; but, nonetheless, I noted it in the calendar and off we went.

We had driven to the destination over 2 hours before the actual event and noticed that there was a rather intimidating line winding through the neighborhood of the high school and we spoke at length, and lovingly, about our options.

"There's no way in hell I'm waiting in that line to see Hillary's cheating husband talk poo about how she should get the nomination. Not gonna happen."

"I'm going. Drop me off."

So almost before I could grab my pink mittens and Jimmy John's ham sandwich from the floor of the car, I was promptly left in the cold with nearly 3000 others in the street who were lined up single file in a very slow moving line as if we were going to be duped into falling over the peak of the hill at the other side.
Once I finally got into the school, I was told (along with about another 1000 people behind me) that we'd be directed into the overflow room (so there's going to be beer? was my initial thought, but I was soon to be underwhelmed). So I stood in the junior varsity gymnasium with loads of others and listened to his speech over, what sounded like, $59 speakers.
No video.
Just audio.
Like I could have watched from home and gotten a better experience; but then I wouldn't have had the joy of observing a lovely blonde woman sitting two rows in front of me continually touching up her lipstick, fluffing her moussed hair, and repeatedly adusting her crossed legs in her very short-skirted professional business suit and I could only wonder if she had aspirations of being a white house intern.

I'll have the glazed ham with a side of sarcasm

2008-03-24T16:35:00.006-04:00

Easter appeared in it's usual Indiana way over the weekend and brought sleet, snow and general weather unpredictability to the annual egg hunt (my daughter found 17, thank you very much) and carrot cake overindulgence. I spent the holiday with family and friends; because nothing really says happy Easter like an outing to the local gay dance club and getting to bed at 5 am smelling of booze and cigarettes with visions of transsexuals dancing in your head.

Birthday tradition

2008-03-21T13:00:00.013-04:00

Every year I'm asked what I'd like to do for my birthday and I spend weeks searching for an acceptable event that costs loads of money and is intended to bring happiness and celebration; and every year I end up wanting to just go outside and hike. This year was no different.

Horticulture Park in West Lafayette still gives me that feeling of beauty and awe after all my years of hiking her trails.

Must be time for a drink

2008-03-20T22:32:00.006-04:00

A wonderful friend of mine gave me a bottle of champagne to celebrate the completion of a large glass project; which had been resting quietly at my desk awaiting the, as of yet, still unfinished business of final payment for aforementioned project. I started to feel a little sorry for the lonely bottle of bubbly who was, no doubt, wondering, 'Hey, is THIS my destiny to be pushed further and further back against the spines of design books and outdated home interior magazines week after week until I'm completely forgotten and ultimately poured down the drain into the city sewer after an undetermined new year's eve soiree after all of the other booze is consumed and I'm looking pretty good to a party guest who'd already consumed 3 gin and tonics, 4 draft beers and a shot of Cuervo?'

Well, since I had a pivotal business meeting with a local, very large and well-known non-profit agency at 3:00, it seemed the perfect time to open the bottle 30 minutes before said meeting and sip from crystal glasses with a couple of close friends.

A lovely day, really.
Until I got home and slammed my husband's head with the back of my Jeep's gate while loading the dog for a birthday hike in the park which sent him tumbling into the mulch holding his head in agony.
Totally unrelated to the midday drink fest. Honest.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a pint of chocolate birthday ice cream to consume.

Five things I'm all about on this eve of my 36th birthday

2008-03-19T22:06:00.003-04:00

1. Gratitude. In general, just trying to be more gracious for the wonderful things I have under my wing (family, amazing daughter, comfortable home, really fast laptop, 'Thank you, Jesus.' See post below).
2. Harping on this horrid winter weather and glad to have this season behind me. Hello sunshine, already. We had one afternoon of 50 degree weather last week and I picked up all of the winter's dog poo (I know, it's horrible and I'm an awful person for waiting so long to clean it up; get over it) and I raked out the front beds and obsessively inspected the budding tulips and daffodils and attempted to reassure them that it WILL eventually get warm enough to bust out of the earth in all of their spring glory.
3. Creative outlets. I have many and they are hugely enriching. One example is my mom's group that is surprisingly successful and important to many local parents. I'm honored to be the organizer (see point number one above).
4. My daughter using words as they are intended. She woke me up at 5 am this morning by standing in her crib and saying, 'Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama.' Not cute at all. Holy cow.
5. Joy. I like this word. It's fitting of it's meaning and reminds me that it is indeed attainable on an even daily basis.

Salvation

2008-02-05T16:23:00.000-05:00

I've been working on one particular glass project for, oh, I don't know, about 1 1/2 YEARS; like, it was started while I was still pairing maternity pants with tight tank tops and cardigan sweaters that were meant for 14-year-old girls and like before I had so many stitches in my hoo-ha that my doctor wouldn't even tell me the exact number and like before I had to wear a leg bag with a cathether for 3 weeks post-birth because my bladder stopped working as it was mad at me for putting it through such selfish grief with the whole childbirth thing (it has since forgiven me, by the way). This extended schedule is by no fault of my own, per se; let's just say that there were many changes and adjustments to both the design and also the size of the window and all of this had to be agreed upon by many people (with many opinions, actually) on a church board of elders.
The overall process was most certainly a lesson in patience and I'll just say that I'm very pleased that it is finally completed (thank you, Cathy!). It truly is lovely and I'm certain that it is exactly what they had in mind when I was approached in June of 2006 about constructing a large window of The Ascension for their church; and my personal treat for finishing this project will be the purchase of a laptop because I'm very much looking forward to saying that Jesus bought me a computer.

Not half as useful as a cat

2008-01-27T15:46:00.001-05:00

My dog is a shitty mouser.
I know this because I stepped into the kitchen yesterday morning to make a small bowl of scrambled eggs for Rosemary, watched a black mouse lumber across the wood floor with a plate of breakfast in it's hands, turn to me and request a spot of tea. Neither scared nor particularly thin, actually.

Which leads me to believe that the mounds of cheese fish and popcorn that have fallen out of the 'no-spill' bowls that we've been using for nighttime snack are being eaten by both the dog and the mouse. Probably even together under the table after we've all gone off to sleep where they both meet and share their bounty of cherry granola bars and bits of Jennie-o turkey franks and discuss how more of the rodent's family who are waiting at the back door can get in on this spectacular arrangement; with Natasha dabbing the mouse's mouth with small bits of the endless stream of kleenex that inevitably pile up behind the bathroom trash.

I will not have any part of the, shall we say, relocation of this particular mouse, as my husband is currently planning because it's becoming weirdly captivating watching this creature slink along the baseboards in the kitchen and now, boldly, the dining room. However, I may need to tidy up the high chair before dinner this evening or Rosemary may be sharing her pizza with our newest, and least picky, tenant.

Smelling of chlorine and chocolate fondue

2008-01-25T22:57:00.000-05:00

Oh man, I've been really having a rough time with the guilt and doubt associated with child care. I thought all of this was worked out until my daycare unexpectedly closed last month; which has me rethinking everything I once believed was completely sorted out. This feeling is nothing new to mothers, I am sure, but some days it's more difficult for me than others; especially those that begin with giggles, whispered 'mama' and blowing kisses. The mornings where my toddler dumps her bowl of eggs to the dog, sticks her foamy toothbrush into my hair, acts like I'm wiping her butt with 80 grit sandpaper and tosses my hairbrush into the toilet, not near as much. However, today presented one of those moments where nothing sounded better than keeping my monkey-child hanging from my hip for the duration of the day, reading (and re-reading) her favorite books (Thomas flip book, Blankie and her books about colors, among others), following her around the house and redirecting her from pulling every last square of toilet paper off the wall.

It was most certainly a day for hooky.

I sent a few text messages to cover the bases with work and we embarked on our first adventure of the day which was to purchase swimsuits for a wintry dip into the pool at the gym. All I can say is, thank goodness for the color black and those goofy little skirt-looking swimsuit bottoms (and also for animal crackers which kept my little one inside the Target dressing room for 1.46 minutes and not crawling under the door while I was standing there sans pants whilst trying to squeeze myself into a size medium tankini top). Rosemary's suit was much simpler to select as anything that is sized at 18 months is going to be darn cute and I'm pretty sure that she's not the least bit concerned about thigh coverage.

The trip to the pool was exactly what we needed on this cold, January day and I wrapped up my afternoon of hooky by sitting around fondue pots of milk chocolate with a fabulous group of moms; because everyone knows that after shopping for swimsuits in the middle of winter nothing brightens your mood and makes you forget about all of those holiday cookies more than heaping bowls of melted chocolate.

Well, isn't this something

2008-01-24T11:38:00.000-05:00

I'm usually not the first one to expose themselves to a stranger, even that one time while swimming in the creek when I did NOT see that fisherman, thank you very much; however, I fairly confidently rose my hand when the local paper recently requested local blogs to feature in their Wedenesday Relate section. I've always been the type of introvert who has kept journals stuffed under thrift shop sofas and hidden in the underwear drawer during my high school and college days; because, you know, if someone was going to snoop for something that was important to it's owner, they would definitely not be searching in a girl's panty drawer. Right? Okay, maybe I was a smidge naive.

I spent a good portion of my Wednesday taking phone calls and answering email from readers who wanted to laugh with me about something that I had posted (mainly my daughter's great use of animal sounds and cutting off hair that had been growing since before the Bush administration meant George W.). I appreciate the feedback that you've given and it was good chatting with many of you about how a simple thing like opening up in such a personal way creates an instant connection.

So, thank you.

Sincerely.

Rosemary's word index

2008-01-22T16:46:00.000-05:00

Thus far (and, no, that's not one of them. That's also more of a phrase and less of a 'word', actually).

Dada

Mama

Tata (an abbreviated version of the dog's name; it's a stretch, but I'll give her this one)

Cheese

Bite

Keys

Bye bye

Bath

Kitty

and a myriad of animal sounds; because, well, she's my child and I think it's hysterical when I ask her what a sheep says and she responds with a staccato, 'BAH.'

All apologies to the Target Superstore for our brief rendez-vous with an alternate shopping destination

2008-01-22T10:05:00.000-05:00

Having watched an embarassing number of hours of the Sprout channel in the last several days, a trip out into the cold was long overdue. With Macy's gift card in hand, we strolled into the department store to search for some new bedsheets. My eyes darted quickly from one display to another looking for just the right mix of modern, with a brilliant and unexpected use of pattern.

My husband was shopping for thread count.

Like the 800 series.

Like something that feels like sleeping in a box of tissue.

With aloe.

It's a good thing that our daughter was quite easily distracted by the rows of low, soft pillows and packages of lightweight fitted sheets that could be pulled out at the last minute in a toddler maneuver to trip up the parents; as our endless trips around the Martha Stewart line of sheets were nauseating. With greasy fingers from the usual stop at the pretzel shop in the mall we unzipped a few packages to compare the 200 thread count versus the 500. I'll mention that it really goes without saying that there is a definite difference, kind of like cheese cloth versus angora; however, I also used to consider a daily swim in the Wildcat Creek a bath, and I also have one pair of shoes for each season so I may not be the most qualified person to consult about this sort of thing.

Certain that our home will be filled with the neighborhood's unwanted hamsters, fish and birds by 2010

2008-01-08T13:39:00.001-05:00

I needed to go to Staples to purchase a new 2008 planner this past weekend and I figured that Rosemary probably wouldn't find the office supply store quite as divine as I do; so, at the last minute, we walked into PetSmart, conveniently located right next to said office supply store. She is very much into animals and their coordinating sounds right now and I really didn't know how she'd react to the customers with their pets walking in and out of the store and the cat adoption that was going on in the entranceway; not to mention all of the store's animals.

I strapped her into the cart and she promptly caught sight of the cats, which immediately forced her into the usual rendition of an unmedicated feline with a case of tuberculosis and untreated mange, 'Mow' (sounds like cow) is her response when she encounters a cat. We passed many dogs which she greeted with an enthusiastic, 'Oof.' Caged birds and feeder fish were just as wondrous.

PetSmart. We're goin' back.

Five things I need to get me through winter (besides hope for an early spring, obviously)

2008-01-05T14:56:00.000-05:00

(note: these are merely a few material items that come to mind when I'm thinking about the endless misery of winter. An additional list might include Zoloft or a vehicle full of carbon monoxide, for example)

1. Lotions. I love them; but especially the scent of Bath and Body Works Warm Vanilla Sugar. It's so intoxicating and wintry smelling.
2. Alba coconut lip balm. There are, apparently, other flavors but the coconut one is dreamy and available at the grocery store so I can pick it up when I'm out for dog food or that dry shaved honey ham that I love; the one that's really hard to swallow and you'd need to have a glass of water on hand just in case. Yum.
3. Bencheley cherry almond tea. Enough said. It's very good at the end of the day with honey.
4. Soy candles. Just in general. They burn well and the scent is strong. Balsam, vanilla, sandalwood. Good stuff.
5. Oil of Olay facial lotion. I've used this stuff since I was sixteen; of course now there's a much larger variety to choose from. Not just for the cold cream, Christmas corsage crowd either.

Camera lesson

2008-01-04T11:47:00.001-05:00

I received this amazing Canon camera as a Christmas gift and I still can't get the manual settings to make sense in my head.

Oh, and I got it last Christmas.

I even took a 3 week class; which, while I was in the class, I thought I had it all figured out and could take the cute little shots of the teacups all lined up and make that cool fuzzy look with the background. However, when I got home I think my brain emptied somewhere around a curve at Ninth Street as I would try out the same things in my living room and all I got were fuzzy, overexposed pictures. I think the main problem is that I want to photograph a child who doesn't know how to stay still for more than zero seconds.

On the bright side, about every sixth photo of a flower or dead, unmoving tree looks great.

Christmas (or why I'll be leaving the store early today to go to the gym)

2008-01-03T12:38:00.000-05:00

I decided to make about 12 tins of homemade fudge, chocolatey bark and the like for my local friends and to deliver them the week before Christmas with Rosemary. I must admit that it was a LOT of fun picking out the goofy snowman and reindeer containers at the craft store as I went in for something other than the usual stuff: watercolor paper, mats, paints, frames, beads, glass and the 70% off aisle.
I chose the recipes pretty carefully as I wanted something that I could make easily as my only prior experience with baking has been adding rotten bananas to a box of Jiffy mix breads. So I opted for a fudge selection that was rumored to take only 5 minutes and a peppermint bark creation that I could make with my eyes closed or while continuously relocating my daughter from the oven light in the kitchen as that is, evidently, the single most fascinating thing in the house (besides her Thomas the train flip book that I recently purchased from Goodwill for 69 cents, which may mysteriously DISAPPEAR tonight because I could probably recite that book backwards if asked).

We successfully made all of our treats and delivered them after dinner one night to many shocked friends; as I repeatedly heard things like, 'You MADE this', and 'Holy shit. You BAKED?', more than once so I guess it was unexpected, no?

We did keep one tin of 'extra' candies in the refrigerator of our house and I ingested a good portion of the fudge before the holiday. Not to mention the massive amount of sugary things at my mom's house for Christmas which led to my current 3-month weight loss/fitness challenge with my husband; and, for the love of God, I had better win as I do NOT want to be doing his laundry for the following three months after.

New doesn't always equal bad

2007-12-13T15:11:00.000-05:00

I must admit that I've not had a 'new' kind of haircut for a LONG time. Like maybe since Oasis or Pearl Jam had a hit record. Or maybe since I stopped eating frozen pizzas every single night or since I owned an actual telephone answering machine with the cassette tape (or even a landline phone, for that matter).

I decided yesterday at about 1 pm that I was going to cut off my bangs (maybe 15" of very thin post pregnancy hair, not the thick stuff so it wasn't too traumatic) and at 3:15 pm I was sitting in the chair of a random stylist who happened to be available to meet my whim and was texting my best friend in Chicago the play-by-play of the situation. "Bangs are cut!" and "Oh. My. God. So cute so far". The kind of stuff that men just wouldn't understand because they have to act like they don't give a shit about the way they look or their masculinity comes into question.

So, I now have short bangs that aren't too bad, actually; however, I've got to teach them to behave as they're all over the place and are in complete and total rebellious shock at the recent amputation.

Making up for lost time

2007-12-08T21:54:00.000-05:00

A few noteworthy events have passed in the last few weeks.

One occasion worth mentioning because I so enjoy making fun of myself was the weekend I went to visit my family in northern Indiana and to also spend some time with my dearest friend.

We chose a bowling alley with cheap beer and even cheaper mixed drinks and which also employed a man named Jack who appeared to be an 80-year-old gentleman on a mission to knock the self-esteem of any bowler with imperfect form right into the gutter. So I was an easy target for Jack as I take (gasp!) five steps instead of four during my walk up the lane.

I'm trying to hang out with a girlfriend that I see maybe 4 times a year and I get the Bowling Alley Lieutenant perched atop the steps behind me yelling out to me about the shitty way I approach the game. Had I been with anyone else I probably wouldn't had been as polite about this man and his opinions, but it seems that we always find ourselves in some comical situations.

Not everyone can say that they closed down a bowling alley that had a family of nine at the next lane who was playing with four carseats filled with sleeping children on the floor next to the scorebox or that they woke up the next morning with such muscle strain in their body that it took them two days to figure out the cause of it and thinking that they had pneumonia or something because their lungs felt bruised and in such pain and then were teased endlessly by their friends about their 'bowling injury' or that when they got back to their mom's house that night her dogs had peed all over their luggage while they were gone because they smelled like another dog or some other stupid dog rationalization.

I'm pretty sure I was the only one.

Pumpkin party!

2007-10-11T23:20:00.001-04:00

In the mailbox today

2007-10-03T14:06:00.000-04:00

This is an especially wonderful and imaginative email. Hold out until the ending as it's worth the wait.

Hello
My name is Mary Kevin am 75yrs old of age, i Live in new york city] usa.My Husband is a good merchant, He have several industrial companysand good share in various banks in the world.I spend all my life on investment and co-oporate business. all theway i lost my husband and two beautiful kids in fatal accident thatoccur in november 5th 2003.i am a very greedy woman with all cost i dont know much and care aboutpeople, since when i have an experience of my lovley ones i feltweak.i found it difficult to sleep and give rest. later in the year 2004february i was sent a letter of medical check up, as my personaldoctor testify that i have a lung cancer, which can easily take off mylife soon.i found it uneasy to survive myself, beacuse a lot of investmentcannot be run and manage by me again.i quickly call up a pastor/prophet to give me positive thinking onthis solution, as my adviser.He minister to me to share my property ,wealth, to motherlessbaby/orphanage homes/people that need money for survivor both studentthat need money/ business woman and man for their investment forfuture rising.So therfore i am writing this letter to people who are really needhelp from me both student in college, to contact me urgently. so thati can make available preparation on that.especially women of the day, who are divorced by their husband, whythey cannot survive the mist of feeding their self.please contact meto stop weeping.probably let me know what you really need the money for, and if youcan still help me to distribute money to nearest orphanages homes nearyour town.now am so much with GOD, am now born again.may the lord bless you, as you reach me,please to remind you,dontbelongs to scammers or any act of fraudulent on internet.thanks.I AM A DEAF
Mary

Contemplating the demise of a pink flower through ingestion

2007-10-01T12:20:00.000-04:00

Fingers crossed

2007-09-30T23:08:00.000-04:00

Now that I've so generously shared my recent case of the chicken pox with my daughter (damn you, daycare policy, for insisting on pre-paying and no refunds for a sick child), my close friend, her son and the entire handbag department at TJ Maxx (or so it seems), I have to count my blessings (there are 28, if you wondered) that all of the outbreaks were of the mild variety.

In my mind, I seem to remember the chicken pox of my childhood being a whole lot more ominous. Kind of like acquiring some disfiguring skin disorder that meant staying home from school and immediate quarantine from all species who had furless skin as if the mere act of being looked upon by someone under 8 years old would instantly infect them with the watery, scar-inducing blisters.

I mean, I'm grateful that she had no more than 5 or 6 spots and we blissfully continued on with our lives with little alteration (which, in retrospect, could have been how things spread within my inner circle to begin with, oops); but, to not know the oatmeal baths, being drowned in sticky pink calamine lotion or the facial scars that come with the chicken pox of years ago is, well, progress.

Why I would have been drunk on brandy everyday by 3 pm

2007-08-31T13:35:00.000-04:00

An Actual 1955 Good Housekeeping article.

On playing hooky

2007-08-30T13:01:00.000-04:00

I received a telephone call yesterday afternoon from Rosemary's daycare saying that she had a fever of 102 degrees and I better get my butt in there to pick her up.
I promptly drive over to get her (teething, so a fever is normal) and bring her to my studio to give her some of that repulsive red sticky poison that she rejects immediately and which finds itself on whatever clean white clothing is within arm's reach. What's that called? Oh, Tylenol.
I was informed that she would not be able to return until she is fever-free for 24 hours; which would be Friday, most likely. So we decide to take the morning off on Thursday and do some random stuff together.

We load up a really nice walker that I had purchased at Target in May. She has clearly moved beyond it developmentally (who knew she'd be walking independently at 10 months anyway) and which she's used maybe four times - all of which prompted a total meltdown at being set into a device that she could neither chase the dog in nor bust up furniture with because our bungalow house is quite small and navigation is tricky for a toddler (and for an adult with a third glass of wine who's misplaced her eyeglasses, I hear).
Paid 40 bucks for it and just sold it to a child's resale shop for 7.

I dazily cruise around the store with my shopping cart while Rosemary is babbling about something incoherent (did she just say, 'iced tea'?) and scratching my head in disbelief that I was just paid less than $10 for a brand new piece of child equipment (damn you), I pick up this book and buy it (thus giving even more money to this stupid store that just ripped me off). I start to read the opening pages at the multitude of red lights on our way home (no apologies to the snot in the red Jeep who was behind me this morning at SR 26 and 52 and honking like an insane person, by the way).

If I get a minute of free time, I'd like to read it in it's entirety in the next couple of days as the secret of a happy child is something I just gotta know; because I've been foolishly acting like it was chocolate ice cream before dinner and, gosh, do I feel dumb.

She really does move this fast

2007-08-24T15:51:00.000-04:00

Not just on the roof of your house

2007-08-21T13:39:00.000-04:00

Last week I noticed a weird burning on my eye. I even commented that, "I think Rosemary scratched my eyelid, with battery acid". How she would have gotten into something like said acid is not quite known but didn't seem too out of the ordinary as she came to me the other day with a cigarette butt in her mouth. Chewed. She's a daredevil, that one.

I went to the urgent care center in our neighborhood as it was after regular business hours and waited for my name to be called. My eye was looked over quite promptly and quickly diagnosed as a simple staph infection; however, if I had known that there was an in-house doctor there who looked as fine as the one who had met with me (from what I could tell with my one good, unswollen eye, anyway) I probably would have gone in for that weird ingrown toenail-thing I had in June. I skip out to my car in the parking lot with a brown bag of ointment (free!) and antibiotic (not free, but necessary, I suppose).

Next morning: eyelid swollen, rash spreading, insatiable itch. Uh oh.

I head back to the doctor after much prodding from my husband as I really hate spending money on something like an itchy eye; but this seemed worthy and I couldn't ignore the fact that I might get to see Super Cute Doctor again. After waiting nearly an hour on a Saturday to be seen (and after lazily reading a tattered People magazine from 2005 and more than a little weirded out by the amount of germs that were probably living on those pages) I am finally told that it's shingles.

What?

I'm promptly given one of those cheap handouts on the wall next to, 'Asthma: It Ain't So Bad' and, 'So This is Your First Yeast Infection', or so I remember. It's been days since I was there.

So I did what anyone with an unknown affliction would do: I raced back home to log onto the internet and typed shingles into Google. I found out that it's basically adult chicken pox and after a little more research, one common denominator was that if it comes anywhere near the eyes, to get medical help immediately as it can cause blindness. Shit. This stuff started on my eyelash line.

I guess that's why I'm currently on two different antibiotics totalling 5500 mg/day for ten days; cause if I go blind tomorrow, I'm gonna be really ticked.

2007-08-13T12:59:00.000-04:00

This morning I dressed her in pink

2007-08-13T12:20:00.000-04:00

This weekend was fairly monumental.

First of all, I watched three movies; which we haven't done in nearly a year; as being repeatedly interrupted during a great film ranks right up there with an intense sunburn. On the bottom of my feet.

All of this movie watching was possible because we've only recently discovered the joy of setting up the baby pen in front of the television, or as it's more affectionately known in my house: the Den of Abandonment. It allows us to spend more than 2.35 minutes watching a program while ensuring that our child is not behind the bedroom door choking on the rubber doorstop.

In our overwhelming giddiness, we may have not made the most appropriate movie selections as new parents; but I thought we exhibited a fair amount of restraint, considering the last film I think I watched was Pirates of the Caribbean. Or maybe even Rocky 4.

Instead, we rented 300, The Last Samaurai and Apocolypto. With our child. In front of the tv screen. A virtual bloodbath. All of them.

I hope that what I've read is true about babies not having much rememberance of the first year; as I'd really like to swing by the video store tonight and pick up the Saw series.

Poolside

2007-07-22T15:18:00.001-04:00

I watched it. So what.

2007-07-20T16:41:00.000-04:00

The Victoria-Beckham-Coming-to-America thing on tv last night, that is. I don't know if it's going to be a weekly show or not based on the spanking it took in the early show reviews.

Having not knowing really anything about her, besides being British and the ridiculousness of the Spice Girls, I was kind of charmed by the show. Not charmed in the way that I would be if, oh, I don't know, SIMON LE BON of DURAN DURAN walked up to me during one of my walks with the dog and baby to offer me a chilled Evian right out of his backpack and to say that he's been thinking of me ever since that letter I wrote to him in 1985 where I said that I was his biggest fan and that we should get together and have lunch sometime in London when he gets a break from his hectic tour schedule; but charmed, nonetheless.

Having done it three times, it's now a habit

2007-07-16T17:04:00.000-04:00

For the last week or so I've been sliding into this bizarre routine of swinging by the drive-thru window of Wendy's for a small frosty (I hear it's made of soy, which I don't really believe), stopping the car somewhere (Friday it was in the parking lot of the state tax office) and sharing it with Rosemary.

Then upon entering the house proclaiming, "This is not frosty on her shirt", when it very clearly is just seems to crack me up.

Family camping 101

2007-07-10T18:11:00.000-04:00

The family (dog, babe, husband) and I spent three days and two nights at Shades State Park recently with several friends and three campsites to accomodate the pack. This being Rosemary's first camping trip, we spent most of the week prior to the event researching family tents via the internet and local shops.
Our previous tent had been of a small two-person, lightweight backpacking variety, which was perfect for our 60 mile trek though the Washington mountains a few years back. Ready to purchase a new sleeping abode, we confidently strolled into Sportman's Warehouse (there isn't actually a reputable outdoor store here for hiking and the like, to my dismay; but, hey, if you want guns and reloading gear, they'll hook you up) the night before our trip and were ready to shell out the cash for a 4 person tent. After looking around the tent area for several minutes and a few too many uncomfortable glances at photos on the oversized bulletin board of local folk with bloody deer and turkeys in the back of their pick-ups, we noticed that they were out of the smaller sized tent and we were promptly offered the larger one. Some discussion ensued.

"A 6-person tent for two and a half people, and maybe the dog if she hasn't spent too much time in the creekbed smearing the decay of animal carcasses into her hide? Seems a little large to me."

"Come on, we'll grow into it. How big can it be?"

We purchased the tent; and after setting it up at the campsite and having to stand in the poison ivy ten feet away with tent poles that extended to an embarassing length, I'll still say that I very much prefer an air mattress with fitted sheets and room to stand over pumping and filtering a mud puddle for drinking water and pooping behind a tree.

My favorite season

2007-07-05T21:35:00.001-04:00

I really can't get enough of summer.

Just when I think it's gonna last all year, I start seeing fall junk in the stores and flowers go on clearance. Shit.

Summer girl

2007-07-03T17:58:00.000-04:00

Five things of moderate annoyance

2007-05-31T21:55:00.000-04:00

1. Nearly every last one of my nighttime tank tops (especially that dark gray one that I loved so much and reluctantly tossed out onto a heaping trash can full of dirty diapers this morning) are devoid of elastic in the straps and are destined for the garbage. From breastfeeding a grab-happy infant. Enough said.

2. Losing so much hair post-pregnancy that I now have a head full of 3/4" hairs and it looks like I'll be sporting some sweet mini-bangs in no time.

3. The size of my left arm in comparison to the right.

4. Solicitors. I swear that I'm going to put a sign up at the shop that says 'No Solicitors. We will not buy your shit.' Everything from windchimes to radio ads. Seriously, if I wanted to buy your crap, I would have found a way to get it that didn't involve your interrupting my day to do it.

5. Shoes. Kind of in general, really. I will wear one pair of shoes all season (right now it's a pair of black high-heeled sandals), every season and until they fall apart. Well, spring is barely over and my shoes for this season are already breaking down. I get attached to one pair of shoes at a time. Really attached.

Lovely Mother's Day bouquet that smelled of rotten organicness by Wednesday

2007-05-17T13:58:00.000-04:00

Mother is a verb

2007-05-13T15:16:00.000-04:00

My first mother's day will be spent outside as much as I can stand; planting flowers, avoiding picking up dog poo, hiking in the woods, not weeding.

Stupid event of the week

2007-05-13T15:04:00.000-04:00

Spending 7 bucks at Jimmy Johns on a to-go lunch (Vito sandwich, large diet, bbq chips) and strolling out empty handed.

Darn carseat over my arm throws me off every time.

Happy Valentine's Day

2007-02-14T17:42:00.000-05:00

We've gotten about 16" of snow in the central Indiana area and have had two days off of work due to the weather (and being a business owner, this merely means that I was too lazy to get my own ass out of bed and pack up my stuff to head downtown).
I'm very much looking forward to enjoying a fancy dinner out tonight.

Have a lovely holiday.

Not the way I remember seeing Pink Floyd

2007-02-12T17:07:00.000-05:00

After a long work week, my husband and I decided to go out Friday to see a newly formed local band who play the 'entire Dark Side of the Moon album' (can you still use the word 'album'? hmm) at an all-ages venue.

My first thought was, 'Do the kids still listen to the Pink Floyd?'. I mean, I know that you can buy a 'concert' t-shirt at Target these days for about $12 (unlike the days of actually having to scour the thrift shops looking for someone's unloved Cure or Depeche Mode tee in the .49 rack at St. Vincent De Paul's shop and praying that you didn't get impetigo again because you didn't want to wash your clothes before wearing them to school); but is this album still a rite of passage? I wanted to know.

So we packed up our 5 month old baby and hit the road to the coffeeshop about 20 minutes away. We listened to the first few songs at the back of the room and I started up a conversation with a women standing next to us who also was holding a young baby.

We chit-chatted about random topics (the volume of the band was rather comfortable, considering) and I had questioned her about the earplugs that her baby was wearing. Pink and squishy, like play-doh, it appeared. She asked me if I wanted some and I momentarily flashed back to that summer day in 1994 when I saw Pink Floyd in Indianapolis and, literally, couldn't find my way out of my own vehicle because someone had asked me if I 'wanted some' and I enthusiastically nodded my head in agreement. So when I said, 'yes' to this woman and she carefully reached into her purse and pulled out a clear plastic container with about 10 pair of pill-like pink earplugs, I started laughing at the absurdity of the moment.

I then pushed the little discs onto my daughter's ears and danced with her in my arms at the small coffeeshop to a cover band playing the second side of the Dark Side of the Moon album and wondered how I could have gotten so lucky.

This is how it's done

2007-02-08T16:50:00.000-05:00

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Bill Lester and I have your business card here and wondered if you had a minute to talk?"

"Uh, sure. What about?"

"Well, I'm contacting you because you're a business owner and I've found that entrepreneurs are an ambitious bunch. I'm looking for someone who is interested in making $250,000 this year. Do you know anyone who would be interested in an incredible opportunity such as this?"

"Um, how 'bout YOU, Mr. Bill Lester? Don't you want to make a quarter-million dollars this year so you wouldn't have to make these dumb phone calls to people you don't even know? Seems pretty simple to me."

click.

Coal in my stocking

2006-12-13T17:32:00.000-05:00

I'm gonna spill it and say that I very much dislike Christmas and all it's dumb crap; however, being in the retail business, this sentiment doesn't sit well with the clientele. Just today I selected some holiday music (never mind that it's 55 degrees today, which I love, by the way) to lull shoppers into the buying mood. I just cannot imagine spending money for the Christmas holiday while in short-sleeved shirts and open windows.
It just ain't right.

This Just In: necessary edit!

2006-12-11T12:50:00.000-05:00

At risk of being pummelled by overworked mamas everywhere, I must interject and say that we will NOT EVER be meeting at Chunky Cheese.
That is all.

Startin' a Mama's Group. Are You In?

2006-12-10T21:17:00.000-05:00

So due to the disappointing number of hip mama's groups (mainly, monthly get-togethers and sanity support for new and experienced mamas), I've decided to do a bit of my own organizing.

If you're a mama and would like to participate, post a comment with your thoughts (and/or send an email) and we'll get things rolling in the new year.

I'll get things started and say that I'd like to meet the first Wednesday or Thursday of every month from 6:30-7:30 or so at a location yet to be determined (something informal, a rentable meeting room or a kid-friendly, inexpensive restaurant, etc); we can discuss the direction of the group at that time. When spring arrives, we can meet up for outdoor events (walks, parks, hiking, you get the idea).

Let's do it.

Cool.

'How Do I Look In This Hat?' or 'What Day Is It? I've Been Awake Since Sunday.'

2006-12-07T22:07:00.000-05:00

I'm lovin' this motherhood thing. Seriously.

I've never really been much of a mall-rat (well, except for that one summer with my mom when I couldn't get enough of The Limited and their uber-contemporary chrome and glass store displays); but, believe me, when there is a newborn involved, anything that makes you feel like a normal woman and not just a walking breast, you gotta get down with it.

So we're (me, Rosemary and her daddy) strolling through the mall via LensCrafters (my obsession with the perfect pair of eyeglasses continues. Why is it so damn difficult to find a pair of black-framed slightly upturned cat eye frames that don't look like I'm going to a Mardi Gras party? Pisses me off). Anyway, after spending over an hour trying on frames (Prada? D & G? Armani? Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? It'd be a cold day in Maui before I'd lay down $300 for frames, despite how desperately the sales clerk stroked my ego by telling me how 'Hollywood' and 'modern' I looked in them), we head on over to the mall pizza spot (complete with framed photos of the customary b&w shots from 1973 of open-shirted Guido and Tony holding a hand-tossed pizza and looking like they finished doing laps at the corner Rollerama to the 45 of Billy Joel's 'Movin' Out'). Then off to Old Navy to take a peek at their baby section, as Rosemary is in dire need of some sleepin' clothes and I'm attempting to clothe her in as many 'non-pink' items as possible (brown? blue? bring it on. I'll deal with the gender identity issues later).

It's gonna be a long winter.

Good Christ Almighty

2006-10-03T15:30:00.000-04:00

Well, jumping Jesus.
It's been ages since my last post.

Flowers have come and gone in my yard (I view the seasons and overall passage of time in terms of which flowers are in bloom, ridiculous, I know) and the leaves are a' changing. As we head into my very least favorite time of year (winter, ick) I've decided to get the blog churning again.

First and foremost, my beautiful daughter was born in mid-September.
Rosemary Autumn is an absolute joy and I couldn't be more in love with her adorableness and sense of wonder. I couldn't wait to kiss her little feet immediately after she was born and I gotta tell you that, thus far, motherhood is everything I had hoped for (my opinion is likely to change in about 14 years) and the sleepless nights will be merely a memory soon enough; so I'm trying to appreciate even the difficult aspects of raising a newborn (diaper rash, sore boobies, nighttime feedings, adjusting my previously selfish schedule to allow her to come to work with me, did I mention sore boobies?). Anyway, she is joyous and will provide years of easy conversation and amusement.

Isn't she a peach?

2006-04-05T19:17:00.000-04:00

At This Point in the Season, the Only Flower in my Yard That's Worth Photographing

2006-04-04T18:50:00.000-04:00

Sad Little Pansies

2006-04-04T18:38:00.000-04:00

Natasha the Sun Goddess

..and Three Seconds Later After I Asked Her If She Wanted to Go for a Walk

2006-04-03T16:40:00.000-04:00

Mother Nature is a Schizophrenic.

Her taunting and teasing continues with unrelenting winds, cold rain, and the tornado that was reported in Indianapolis over the weekend (among other events, I'm just thinking locally).

My own personal pathetic story is that I planted red and purple pansies in the concrete pots outside our front door on Saturday and they were literally swimming in their $8 per bag potting soil by early this morning. Not to mention last night's pop-up thunderstorm that tried to dampen our chicken kebob plans (we persevered, umbrella in hand and defiantly turned our noses up at the pounding rain that pummelled our outdoor grill).

Now I love spring and most of it's quirky unpredictability, but when I stroll into work this morning to find my metal outdoor sign snapped in two because of the weekend wind, I gotta start bitchin'.

2006-03-20T16:54:00.000-05:00

2006-03-20T14:10:00.000-05:00

I Swim with the Fishes (and other falsehoods of a cold, shitty winter)

Today is my 34th birthday and I celebrated mid-day in my own way by taking myself out for a double-scoop birthday cone (chocolate raspberry truffle and cherry chip, kiddie scoops; I do have boundaries) before coming back to the office to work on some designs.

This will be a year of transition and of new roles; as we'll be welcoming our first baby (hence the ice cream, actually) into this fabulously wonderful world of capitalism and also into a home built in 1929 with lots of pointy things, wood floors and an over-stocked cd rack in early September.

A Virgo baby, to my delight, and I look forward to creating a welcoming and eclectic world of gum-in-the-hair, sand-in-the-socks kind of fun for the little ladybug.