little lovelies handmade

Thankful

Last week was a tough one. I am increasingly grouchy, increasingly impatient, increasingly sensitive. My kids and Aaron unfortunately get the brunt of this, which is unfair, but sort of the way things go sometimes. The ones you know won't leave you (or can't escape)get worst of you on occasion.

Tonight we had to take a little detour to Labor and Delivery to check on the baby. I realized that I hadn't felt any movement for about a day and a half and was feeling extraordinarily run down. This baby has been pretty kicky for the last two weeks or so and it seemed like suddenly she just stopped.  After a quick call to the doc he advised we check her heart rate at the hospital to ease our minds at the very least.

I never had this sort of thing happen with my other two, so I felt like we were in uncharted territory. There were fears that I never had before running through my mind and I had to really focus not to let panic set in. Thankfully after only a few minutes on the monitor the nurse found a good strong heartbeat and assured us that for 24 weeks, it was actually stronger and easier to find than in most babies. In a matter of moments we went from unsure that things were ok to being assured that our baby is stronger than most at this stage. Go figure.

Nothing like a little scare to make you appreciate your Mother's Day and the wee ones who made you one even more. Hope you all have a good one. I know I will knowing all my babies are safe and sound.

Boy This is Fun!

I saw a guy that I used to work with at our gym the other day and he sat down next to me and started asking me, "So are you done yet?" When I laughed and sort of gave him a non reply, he started going into the whole, "Wow, three kids. Sure you can handle it?" Diatribe so many people feel the need to give us these days. Well, dang people. If we didn't think we could handle it we wouldn't have decided to have another one. And whether or not we can handle it, or should handle it, or how many kids I am going to have or not have and if they are going to public, private or homeschool is not your business and really isn't open for discussion, thankyouverymuch. I don't know what it is about the third kid that makes people feel the need to 1)Talk to you like you are stupid and clearly didn't think things through before deciding to have another child and 2)Treat you like a martyr, because clearly only a martyr would have three children.

When I said, "Oh I'm not really worried about having a big family, I came from a big family", he reminds me that coming from a big family and raising one of your own are two very different things. Yes, I realize this. Funny how when you tell people you are having a third kid the first thing that pops into most peoples mouths is something along the lines of "But you already had a matching set, why would you want to mess that up?" or "Are you sure you can handle this?" and then a sheepish congratulations follows, but it has already been spoiled by the clear thoughts of this woman is crazy.

Perhaps this is the type of stuff that all people hear, perhaps it is just me. A couple other friends of mine who are expecting a third and fourth say they aren't getting quite as much flack as I am. One has two boys, so people are like "Oh cool, trying for a girl?" and the other who has three now people say, "Oh good, you are making it even now. " Yes because trying for that girl or evening up the playing field is so much more noble than ruining a matching boy-girl set.

Oh well since I ruined my children's chance at happiness, I'll have to make sure my children take good notes so they'll have their stories right when they tell their therapists how awful it was to be one of three*.

*We do reserve the right to decide to have more children, and if we do, please don't ask us "Are you done now?"

Maker Faire and Some Other Stuff

Thanks so much, to those of you who joined in on the discussion from my last post. Seems we are all pretty much on the same page, which is cool. Feel free to hop over there and continue the dialog.

So. The Maker Faire was over the weekend and very fun. Definitely more for the 4 and up crowd. Poor peanut was having a bit of a hard time with the walking and the making and the not whining. Actually, at some point in the day, I believe we all had a bit of trouble with that, but isn't that what makes family outings so darn fun?

One thing that went over very very well was foam printing. Both kids really loved etching drawings into the foam and loved rolling ink over their stamp even more. I am very excited to have cute little kid made prints to hang in their rooms one of these days. Add it to my list of things to do.

Speaking of things to do, now that we have a pretty good idea that we are having a girl (I need to remind myself that the US was so early that we could get a little surprise if you catch my drift) now the countdown is on to complete the room arrangements. Which means I need to tackle my craft room. Which is truly frightening. Poor Aaron has been begging me to clean it out since January. Boy time flies when you are avoiding something!

Some Seriousness on a Friday

So tomorrow is the Maker Faire and Baz Biz, which I am excited to be going to with Aaron and the kids. Last year I went with Missy and we shared a table and had a great time. This time I won't be selling anything due to a really unproductive few months.

Crafty mo-jo has left the building and it's not because of hormones. It's because of intense frustration. When I do create something (which admittedly isn't often) and post it here, I am putting out there for all to see and hopefully be inspired by. Sometimes someone is inspired  and goes out and makes their own version of what I made. At first for some reason this really bothered me and I held off on posting new work for fear I'd be "copied".

Then I remembered a time when I was in high school and had my panties in a twist about being copied. One dance I had on a short dress and choose to put my corsage on my ankle rather than my wrist and by the end of the evening and for several dances after other girls began doing the same thing. (I know, what a trendsetter.) I was complaining "They copied me!" (insert whiny 16 year old voice here) when my Dad reminded me that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and that I should be pleased that I began a new "trend" so to speak. Naturally by the end of the year the trend was over, but years later when I was showing girls I mentored in the youth group some pics from high school they thought it was cool and did it for awhile at their school. That's right I'm a fashion icon. They probably thought they were being "vintage".

Ok where was I? Right, Dad had reminded me that people only choose to copy the things they think are really cool. So I should feel flattered not pissed off and self righteous. Ok then. Taking that wisdom I applied it to the situations where people took my ideas and ran with them. In all honesty they created similar things, but their items had their stamp on them, which as people who create, shouldn't that be the point? To put our ideas out there for all to be inspired by and then be excited when someone else adds to our creations?

What makes it difficult is that we can rarely trace back our inspiration, we are inspired by so much all the time. The person may not even realise they were inspired by my work in the first place. It's not like I am a famous blogger or crafter, so my stamp on the crafting world isn't exactly large. The other frustration I have is when we make a conscious effort not to be influenced by other people and  then when we show our work people tell us  oh so and so did that, or  did you get that idea from  so and so?

I have a couple of friends who do not read other people's blogs that way when they are creating their pieces images of other people's work don't pop into their heads. They'll post their new work and once in awhile will get a nasty email from someone accusing them of stealing another person's idea. Usually the types of things they get called out on are things like clothes-pin dolls or zippered pouches or some other simple design that anyone could have come up with given enough free time.

Seriously, people? No one has exclusive rights to these ideas. Except maybe our great great grandmothers. Maybe a particular person brought them back in style, but they weren't that person's idea. This kind of calling out can be hurtful and really stifling to the creative process. One friend told me she hadn't blogged for a month after these kinds of things kept happening to her because she felt like it was a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation. She honestly came up with her ideas herself and kept getting compared to other bloggers and accused of creative copyright breach.

So what are we to do? Just say ok you are the more famous blogger you keep the idea (which if you were being honest wasn't your idea to begin with) or accept that there are going to be dozens of interpretations of similar works and accept it as part of the creative process? My feeling is that it challenges us to create newer better things and when those ideas get expounded upon you move on to something else.

I also think of all the renaissance paintings depicting Madonna and Child. Criminy there must be a thousand of them. Did the first artist cry foul about it and claim a creative copyright? He may have griped to his other painting buddies, but then moved on to something bigger and better. As a result we have so many versions of the Madonna and Child and can enjoy each and every one for the individual creations they are. Personally to me, that isn't a bad thing.

Now to clarify myself so as not to be tarred and feathered at first chance I am talking about inspirational spin-offs, not flat out copying element for element. Flat out copying is entirely uncool. But taking someone else's "idea" and making it your own should always (in my opinion) be a valuable element in the creative process.

There. I am off my soap-box, anyone else want to jump on? (Be nice, though. We are just having a discussion)

So about that four year old...

I'm pretty sure this picture explains it all. Not sure I really need to wax on or rant/rave with such an accurate photo of the little man.

I will however relay to you a conversation we had yesterday while watching Funny Face.

"What's her name?" (Audrey Hepburn's character)
"I think it's Joan."
"No, that isn't her name."
(she then introduces herself as Joan to Fred Astaire.)
"It's Joan, honey."
"No it itsn't, mommy."
"Ok, then what's her name?"
"I don't know, you tell me!"

No lie.

ETA: Ok so her name is really Jo. Guess my kid is smarter than I give him credit for. No wonder he thinks I am an idiot. I swear that Fred was saying "Joan". I guess he is just learning young that his mother can't be trusted to know anything. The teenage years will be so fun.

This should explain things...

Where I have been, anyway. There is really no explanation for a lot of things about me.

Last week we took a trip down to Southern Cal to welcome my brother home from Iraq. He was on his third tour and to add insult to injury his 7 month tour was extended 90 days to become a 10 month tour. I love how they call them "tours" as if they are boarding a bus full of blue-haireds and are going to be sightsee around the dunes or something.

Since we were going down south anyway, we took the kids to Disneyland one day and the beach another day and made a really exhausting vacation out of the trip. I like to exhaust myself at every opportunity. No wonder I have never carried a kid to full term (both were 3 weeks early). There isn't much to be said about it other than we are really glad to have our bro home. The rest of this post could be devoted to vacation highlights, but frankly that would be boring for everyone, wouldn't it?

For my next entry expect me to wax poetic (or rant like a raving lunatic) about the joys of raising a four year old who apparently knows everything and therefore has no use for his mother's pathetic wisdom. These are good times, people.

Oh Snap. A four year old is cooler than me.

So a few weeks ago the kids and I went to their friend Piper's 4th birthday which according to her mom, Lauren was thrown together the night before. If only my months long planned out get together could be so cool. Granted, by her own admission many of the ideas were Martha Stewart-hacked, but whatever. It was still ridiculously magazine worthy (Um yeah, its Martha so it's gonna be magazine worthy. Duh).

My kids had a blast and freaked out when it was time to go home. I had to get gas so on the way home I stopped to fill 'er up and got the kids a treat to soften the blow. I got them organic milk and gummie worms. I know. But I was thinking milk was a better choice than soda or juice. To highlight my bad nutritional choices both kids puked up said milk about 40 minutes later (at home thankfully) thus causing Aaron to accuse me all week of attempting to poison our kids with Gas Station Milk. Common sense should have told me that purchasing the only two cartons of milk in the mini mart was probably a bad idea. What pissed me off the most was that I paid a buck 45 for each of them(you'd think it was the barfing, huh? But no, it's the lost $2.90. Classic)

 

This post wasn't supposed to be dedicated to my mad parenting skillz, though. I was gonna tell you about the awesome CD that Lauren made for the kids at the party. It was full of Piper's favorite songs and, dude, that kid has some seriously awesome favorite songs. She is way cooler than me. My kids dig it, too, but mostly because they are Piper's faves not because of their musical merits. We'll work on that.

Did you ever see the Gilmore Girls Episode where Lorelai calls her ex on the night of her bachelorette party to tell him she's getting married and he disses on her finance's musical collection of Dave Matthews and Movie Soundtracks? No? It cut deep because they were totally dissing on my musical IQ right there.

Anyway, this got me thinking to what other people's favorite songs might be. This is a poorly disguised attempt to get the 411 on cool music because I am way too lazy to troll itunes for cool stuff. Post your top 5 (or 10 or whatever) favorite songs in my comments. If I can bribe Lauren into giving me an extra of Piper's cd, I'll send one to someone. At some point. Because as other winners of my giveaways can attest, I ain't so great with the mail. Maybe I'll bribe Lauren even more to mail it out for me. She's waaaay more responsible than me.

Life and Death

Our dryer died last night, just as I started a new load of laundry, now leaving two loads of laundry wet and stinky. No worries, just hang it on the clothes line, you say? Well, the last big storm that raged through town killed the clothes line, so that isn't a suitable solution. We debated having someone come out and fix the dryer, but Murphy's Law says that you'll spend 100+ dollars to fix your 200 dollar dyer and then have to buy a new one anyway, so we took our money and gave it to the good folks at Sears instead.

I refuse to let it get me down because there is the promise of days by the pool with the kids this week and the fact that we plopped down the $380 (gotta have that delivery and install fee) right after receiving  the fun news of what little bean is. We had our ultrasound today, or as Aaron calls it "the moment pregnancy becomes real for me". I get the "pleasure" of tap dancing on my bladder, so the reality sinks in a little sooner for me.

In the 3 years since the last time we had an ultrasound they added a lovely viewing monitor for parents, so I didn't have to be a contortionist trying to see the tech's monitor. One interesting fact was that this babe is measuring exactly where it should for it's due date and my other two measured about three weeks ahead of their due dates and they debuted about three weeks ahead of schedule. So I am preparing myself now for a full term (or longer, bah!) baby this time around. Gotta psych myself out early, because around August 1 I may be contemplating suicide at the thought of 28 more days (mom, I'm kidding).

Bean is a modest one, crossing its legs and keeping things very proper. It uncrossed momentarily allowing the technician to say "Weeeell, I can tell you what I don't see." and thus confirming (as best she could under the circumstances) the gut feeling we all had that we are in fact having a girl. Maybe. Most likely. Probably. I asked her if we should just keep it to ourselves and not tell people just in case and she said that while she could never be 100% about these things, she thought we'd be safe telling folks the news.   So there you have it, folks and the same man who was all worried at the prospect of raising one daughter is giddy at the prospect of raising two daughters. I think he is secretly glad to have another little princess in the mix.

Good Weather Can Make Up For Anything

The weather was fabulous and we took full advantage of it this weekend. Which is a good thing because it made up for the disaster that was last week, which began on Monday with a Win-co trip, which if you live in a state with a Win-co you know what I mean, if not think Wal-Mart of food (yes I realize that some Wal-Marts have food, but it was the best comparison I could come up with after 10 pm on a Sunday night). I had to drive 20 minutes to our Winco, spend an hour shopping with a pre-schooler and a toddler who didn't want to be at Winco and then I had to go home and begin cooking for a couple of hours because I have a bunch of friends who had babies this week and I knew I'd be called upon to provide food-stuffs for the new parents when Peanut informs me that she needs a diaper change (I know, sign 185 that your kid is ready to potty train) so I went to get the diapers I got at Win-co, only to realize that I had left the diapers and toilet paper we needed VERY BADLY on the little conveyer at Win-co. And hour and a half later (after wrangling two children who really didn't want to go back to the store into the car and then bribing them with new crayons and coloring books to get into the car, only to find that Winco had neither crayons or coloring books, thus requireing that I make an unplanned stop at Target for crayons and coloring books ) I was back at home.

Later in the week I took the kids to the thrift store and when we got home to have lunch, I dug into my purse to get my house key and noticed the house key was not there. The memory of giving our handyman my house key the day before suddenly flashed in my brain, simultaneously with the vision of my cellphone sitting on the kitchen counter. Damn. I had to load two pissed off hungry kids back into the car and drive all the way to the freakin' State Capitol (where A works), park downtown, take out my children who were dressed in clothing suitable for...say, an outing to a thrift store, but not an outing to a government institution(meaning that they had clothes on, but not that any of it was clean or matching. Or even technically clothes. Peanut was wearing a Belle dress). I'm pretty sure I hadn't brushed my hair and looked like those crazy troll dolls. And I had to march my rag tag children and self into Aaron's office where he just started working a month ago and all his co-workers are chic little 20 somethings in power suits.

All I gotta say is thank the Lord for that Belle dress, because when there is a smiling blue eyed blonde haired princess around, no-one notices that her mother looks like a troll and her brother was playing with a Styrofoam box in the car and was covered in little white Styrofoam balls , that would stick to his hair even more when I tried to brush them out, because, duh, static electricity.

Ok, so I guess it wasn't a monumentally bad week, but  when you are pregnant and perpetually cranky it's a pretty bad week. We were able to enjoy a picnic in the Capitol Park with Aaron on Friday and spend Saturday lounging by the pool at our gym.

Bad week, what bad week? Chlorine and sunscreen will solve all my problems.

A Dickensonian tale of Motherhood

Our house was built in 1955 and still has some of the "features" of that time. No, not the great old stoves people had in those days, or an ironing board in the wall in the kitchen, but a good old wall heater. It actually does a bangin' job of heating our 1090 sg ft castle and doubles as a after bath dryer for the kids. Lauren laughed and said how Dickensian of us to have a heater and little ragamuffins standing around it getting warm. Well I guess Dickens wouldn't have had a heater...whatever.

Anyway, they like to stand there in their towels and heat up a bit before putting their jammies on and going to bed. Last night my peanut had the brilliant idea of standing in front of the heater sans towel and got a little too close, burning her bum. Since she was a little wet still the one second contact with the heater left a nifty 3 inch circle burn. Owwie! As a result she got to spend the evening sitting on an ice pack and watching princess movies. Now there is a little red circle that will likely go away in a day or two, but in the meantime will be a joy to explain to the day care at the gym.

Can I still be in the running for mother of the year?