Wordless Wednesday

Sometimes, family attacks

Oh dear, sorry about that

Ever have one of those days?

 

You're going along fine, minding your own little piddly business, not a great day, but not a bad one.

 

You get home and try to nap on the couch only to be woken multiple times, and finally woken by a flop and kicking of the couch you're sleeping on, because a certain someone isn't getting their way.

You're so eternally grateful for a reason to escape the house after dinner, and yet feel guilty for leaving grumpy someone in someone else's hands. You arrive at the coffee shop early, begin enjoying your orange jasmine tea, and have yourself a coughing fit or two. This is nothing new, as the coughing has been happening for about two weeks now, and is going around your household.

Your lovely friends arrive that you haven't seen in weeks, and you all begin updating each other on the various paths life has taken, whose kids are doing what, and OMG DID YOU HEAR WHAT HER NEIGHBOR DID?! One of your dear friends begins telling a story about the history of her 20 year old car and how it's come to barely have 60k miles on it. Not a funny story, but not a sad one or anything.

You decide to take another drink of that delicious orange jasmine tea, and just as you prepare to swallow, you body decides it's time to cough, and there's nary a thing you can do about it.

Spraying three of your best friends with your germ laden tea is not what you imagined when you thought about this time with them! Thankfully, you have amazing friends, who laugh about it, forgive you and help you clean your spittle off everyone.

If you can't spit on your friends and have them laugh about it, they aren't your friends.

Makeup tips!

Random tip for you dear readers :)

When applying foundation/cover-up, use a brush.

I was taught this by a gentleman who made over myself and my mother one day at Origins, and it made all the difference in the world. I went from having makeup on, to having glowing, smooth skin!

If you don't believe it, do the mirror test. Take a handheld mirror, and put a small amount of foundation on it. Then use your fingers to spread it, like you would on your face. Notice the streaks?

Now try with a sponge...it's suddenly a lot thinner, isn't it? Now try the brush. Aaaahhh...like painting!

Now, go forth and educate your friends with your ridiculously amazing skin :)

Featured on Cuteable!

A while ago, I'd submitted Meanbean bags to Cuteable, and promptly forgot about it :) I know people are busy, and I often don't expect a response.

Yesterday, I was notified that Meanbean Bags were on Cuteable! Check it out!! :)

Wordless Wendesday

I heart stylish things

Though I don't have the money for them, most times. This is such a time...but it's so fun to window shop!

Here's what I'd own, if money were no object...

Not sure why a bald mannequin is used, but still...some of these I can see myself wearing more than others, like the blue one with the beads, I can see myself wearing that almost daily.

Then there's the window shopper's dream....aka Etsy:

 

1. from KissCurl
2. from gurneycreekfarm
3. from NBBWear
4. from DearGoldenVintage
5. from MissMors
6. from alleycatsvintage
7. from heartspot
8. from jantiques
9. from starletvintage
10. from joeireedhats
11. from JuneeMoonVintage
12. from heartspot
13. from BoudoirQueen
14. from fabgabs
15. from MadameQueeny
16. from Tottie

Of course, once I score The Perfect Hat, then I'll be on the hunt for The Perfect Purse...it's just a snowball effect really!

Stylin'

Friday evening, one of my best friends had a birthday party, and decided to have it be a themed party! Not only is that fun in itself, but it was a Film Noir party! So...Matt and I went as Joe and Polly from Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. AWESOME.



That was totally fun, but I discovered that I really like the 40's look on me, it suits my shape and height, and I can pull off the hair and makeup easily. So, I've been wearing this style since Friday, and documenting it like a good blogger :)

Night of the party:


Saturday:


Sunday:


Today (Monday):


The irony of this, is I feel like I've finally found a "style" of my own, that suits me, that I can do without issue, that's fun, etc.
Anywho, I'm totally having fun, and guys and dolls..get this. I'M WEARING LIPSTICK. HAVE BEEN SINCE FRIDAY.
I think I just saw a pig fly by.

In Memorium

Click any picture to enlarge to see details

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Most of us know this, yet we don't expect the children in our lives to know it, or understand it, much less commemorate it.

Enter Little M.

This kid never ceases to amaze us. She's learned about MLK Jr in school, and is fascinated with the work he did, his dream, and his influence on our country. She was convinced this morning that he was the first president in the universe, actually.

Last night, when asked what she wanted to do with her grandma on her special day off from school, she announced that she wanted to make a cake. Today we learned that it was not just any cake, but a cake specifically for MLK Jr day.

Initially she wanted to draw his face in icing, but that seemed a bit daunting. Undeterred, she moved on to: "Ok, well then let's put his grave on it!" and spent lunchtime with her grandma, sketching out her idea. It needed to have "I have a dream" on it, a grave, flags and a headstone.

So, you'll notice all the details on the pictures above. Please note, the colored sprinkles are flowers, and the upside down flag was a mistake, it wasn't intended to be upside down at all :)

She picked out all the decorations and the flavor of the cake, and helped make it, of course. When we cut it tonight, she got the first piece, and insisted on having the entire "grave". I struck a deal with her, allowing her to have it (about twice the size a sane adult would eat), and that I would get to eat what she didn't. Worked out, she ate about half, and I had the rest!

Kiddo picked out confetti cake, my absolute, positively without a doubt FAVORITE CAKE FLAVOR IN THE WORLD!

So...we ate MLK's grave tonight, in memory of his life, as we discussed what his dream was, and whether it had come true.

While there's still much work to go, in the words of Little M, "I'm so glad I don't live back in the old days."

Redheads are not the freshest produce in the aisle

Wait, redheads are produce?

And we're not fresh? I don't know if you all know any redheads but...uhm...we ARE fresh. And sassy. And usually bitingly sarcastic, to the point of being called names and considered mean and/or rude.
*sigh* This makes me think of all the lovely things I was subject to growing up as a redhead. I was called a multitude of names, because I had a number of "strikes" against me:

• flaming red hair (since calmed into a light strawberry blond)
• freckles
• translucently pale skin
• freakishly skinny (not anymore)
• braces (2 years)
• glasses (2 years)
• bookworm
• shy
• blush easily
• cried easily

Now I've learned there's this whole thing against redheads, especially in the UK, where we're called "gingers" in a very derogatory manner, and there's things about "kick a ginger day" and such nonsense.
I just want to shout to the world

IT'S HAIR COLOR, WHO FREAKING CARES?

I mean, yes I know red hair is rare enough that it's fascinating to people...but it's yet another way that women get objectified, that people in general find a reason to treat someone differently, and kids get mocked for something they have no control over.
I used to wish I was blond. I wouldn't change it for the world now, but I understand why kids feel that way, and if we are ever blessed with a biological child who happens to have red hair, I will indulge them if they want to dye their hair at any point. With pain in my heart, and a big hug, I will hold them and say,

I know it hurts love. How can I make it a little less painful?

It amazes me the things people will find in order to be prejudiced against others. I know we all are to some extent, as we judge each other instantly, etc...but the key is to move past initial judgements and get to know someone. Basing your reaction to someone on their looks alone, and never moving past that is what got the US into the horrible years of enslaving others based on skin color, of camps of Asian populations during the war, and more atrocities.
I am NOT comparing the mocking that I endured to these horrific events, but that the mindset that precedes such things involves the whole "you're different so I'm better than you" attitude that I'm seeing. I just worry for the years to come...what will come of such attitudes? How is it still socially acceptable to treat one another this way?

Wordless Wednesday

Why is there bacon in the soap?

Valid question, I must say. Perhaps because some soap is made with lard, which comes from pigs, just as bacon does?

Found on Autocomplete Me

This makes me think of those days when you're in a mad dash, and later find your purse in the fridge, your keys int he shower, and your shoes in the DVD cupboard. Ever have one of those days? I tend to have them, but with just one specific item that I continually misplace for the entire day. Usually it's something vital, my wallet or keys most likely.

Once I discovered I'd put my keys in my closet, with my shoes. Once, my wallet was in my craft room (Disaster Area).

There's more, I"m sure, but those are the two things I can think of. I spent 20-30 minutes searching each time this happened. So frustrating, and I always feel SO stupid when I finally find it, in some stupid place that I would never normally put it. My keys and my wallet live in my purse. Every time. so when they're not there, I'm at a complete loss where they should be!

Why is there bacon in the soap? Because it's just one of those days.

You know what I like

On Wednesday, one of my best friends in the world, Rachel stopped by my house, because she wanted to give me my birthday present. My birthday was in November, but she and I have a hard time getting together because of our schedules, so....plus neither of us care if things are late, or if we're late...yanno how it is.

Anyway, Rachel is One Of Us...as in she's Crafty with a capital C. She makes random mobiles, scrapbooks, embrioders...probably more that I can't think of right now. So, I was given some of the crafty Awesome that drops from her fingers....this time in the form of embriodered pillow cases!
Nothing frilly here, this girl knows me heart and soul. Pillowcase #1 is all rock n roll, and has a COWBELL! If you don't understand the significance of a cowbell, please turn on your speakers, and click here.

Pillowcase #2 is all cars, fast cars, race cars, cars spitting flames...cccaaarrrrsssss.



How cool is THAT?



Close up of her incredibly neat handwork. I've tried embriodery, but...wow...mine is garbage compared to this!



color changing thread on the flames, and lips! Random, but that makes me love them even more :)



And finally, the artwork. This is by a local artist, Kim Berggren, and I absolutely adore it. If it looks familiar, that's because for Mother's Day last year, Matt and Little M gave me a mermaid one last year. I just love the style, and the emotion that these paintings evoke and exude. Starting to think I might begin a small art collection of her work!

Did she really just say that?

Picture a living room filled with people of all ages, 4 generations of family gathered to enjoy Christmas morning together. Everyone's in a great mood, enjoying each other's company, opening presents, having hot tea, and generally having a lovely time.

Aunt Casey hands Little M a pair of stuffed moose, tied together to appear to be kissing. They're not wrapped, and she takes it at face value.

Little M just loves stuffed animals, so hugs the moose pair, enjoys how soft it is, and thanks Aunt Casey for the cute moose. She sets them aside to move on to another present, but Casey interjects, saying "Wait! You need to open it, there's a present inside."

The moose are tied together (mooses? Moosi? Is there a plural for moose, or is it like sheep?) with ribbon, but Little M hasn't figured that out yet.

She turns the pair around and around, trying to figure out how to "open" it. Finally in frustration, she throws up her hands, and says, very loudly:

"I can't open it! I can't find the moose hole!!!!!"

Now picture 4 generations dying of laughter, vowing to never, ever forget this moment.

Wordless Wednesday

Reality vs Expectations

Sometimes, the world in my head collides violently with the world I actually live in. The other night was just such a collision.

Kristin's World, night unfolds as such:

Child is prompted to get ready for bed, does so with minimal fuss, falls asleep during story time, is kissed goodnight and Kristin exits stage left to retire for the night.

Real World, night unfolds as such:

Child is prompted to get ready for bed, and does so with minimal fuss. Has her snack, brushes teeth, small drink of water, says good night to everyone, and we're in bed. We read three stories (usually the max is two), then I begin reading a pictureless book for her to go to sleep to. I hear her moving around, but usually it ends up stopping. It didn't, and pretty soon I hear the plastic sounds of toys. I turn over (I read facing away from her so as not to distract her), and she's not in her bed!

Crouched on all fours, at the foot of her bed, among a billion toys, she claims she's trying to fall asleep there. Refuses to get back in bed. Says she's hungry. Her puppies are in the car and it makes her sad (this happens repeatedly, so that night i put my foot down and told her she's responsible for bringing them in, tough tookie). Her tummy hurts. She's not tired. and by God she's huuuuuuuuuuuuungry!

At this point, I'm doing everything in my power to remain calm, I haven't had to deal with an all out revolt like this in years, and it just flips the Angry switch in me. I eventually get her back in bed, and start reading again. She begins interuppting with whining, tummy pains, and waaah I'm hungry.
Maybe you think I'm mean, but girl has a snack EVERY NIGHT before bed, because of this very issue. Crackers and a glass of milk - filling, bland and perfect for bedtime. It's not like the kid hasn't eaten in hours. Though, you'd think so to hear her.

I'm at the end of my rope, so I tell her I need a minute, and leave the room. I gather myself, wait maybe two or three minutes, and go back in. We try again, only to repeat Act 1.

At this point, I say, OK I'm going to talk to Dad. I'm not threatening, I just need back up, and so he comes back in the room with me. We both talk to her, sit quietly, begin reading, etc. She still refuses to calm down, I'm at the breaking point, so I'm now sitting there crying. Matt has me leave, because he knows at that point there's no help to be had from me.

Little M loses it. I mean LOST IT. Screaming, freaking out because I left the room...full on meltdown. Matt deals with it as much as possible, like the impossibly awesome, patient man he is. Soon Grandma comes in to see what on earth the whole fuss is, and ends up being the magic person who calms Little M down. 45 long minutes later, she's asleep.

Meanwhile, Matt is comforting me just outside kiddo's room, as I sob because I've failed to make Kristin's World enter the Real World, and it's just another reminder of how I feel like I've failed, because I have impossible expectations for myself. Matt tries to tell me this happens to every mom, and just because I'm her mom doesn't mean I ahve the magic cure...but IN MY HEAD I SHOULD, and that's why I hate it.

Bedtime began at 8:30. Approximately 11pm, she fell asleep.

Motherhood is a long, tiring, road full of potholes that you just don't see coming. I didn't know until that night that I expected myself to be able to fix everything.

Turns out I expect entirely too much from entirely human me.