Whhhhhhy?

Firstly; Fion says "cheese". She's so cute you want to just pinch her.

Secondly, it snowed last night. I hate this place.

It's Thursday, right?

Oh heeeey.... so Fiona all of a sudden looks huge. And last week she dumped 1/2 a cup of pink milk into the DVD player. Turns out electronics don't drink pink milk.

And Adrian is enjoying the pup. Here he is brushing her with a grooming glove. My favorite thing is to watch the two of them run in circles in the backyard, while Adrian shrieks with glee.

And this past weekend with two days of beautiful weather, I took Adrian outside and showed him how to build "pirate houses". Teaching him to find natural materials and see them as building materials has kept him busy for DAYS. And I am exhausted from trying to cram everything into the regular 7-day week.

Where would you go?

Occasionally, Aaron and I toy with the idea of moving. Not just from Chicago, but from the United States. (Don't get all panicky, we aren't actually going anywhere)

Our criteria for our new home country varies wildly depending on our moods, the weather, and what time of day we're having these discussions. We have chosen places based on free healthcare, year-round temperatures, the national custom of a many-houred lunch followed by a nap, the ability to thrive on 5 US dollars a day.

Which leads me to wonder: where would you go, if you had to?

Looking for suggestions

What can I give the pup to chew on when she's bored?
I have an aversion to rawhide, as it gets all slimey.
I can't keep giving her treats or she'll never eat her kibble.
And she can't keep raiding the kids toy bin, because that is just trouble waiting to happen.

On to happier things

I just looked at the calendar this morning and saw that it was Friday the 13th.
And to that I say: enh. Just another of 52 Fridays in a calendar year.
I do like the number 13, though. 13 full moons in a year. 13 plates on a turtle's shell. It's one of those numbers that pops up & waves from nature every so often.

Tomorrow it's supposed to be 50 degrees! I can totally take the kids outside to play. Or rather, Adrian will play and I will try to keep Fiona from eating dirt by the shovelful. I was pretty sure she was supposed to have outgrown that by now, but as of last Friday she was still enjoying dirt as a part of the food pyramid.

And Sunday we will be hosting scouts! I am excited. It is always nice to be surrounded by people with whom you can just be yourself. It's been a while since I have had that in any quantity. Us grown-ups will be talking about upcoming projects, and the little ones will be hunting for eggs and burning off energy so they will sleep like rocks. (Hooray for sleepy rocks)

And Friday next is the FIRST DAY OF SPRING. (happy dance-happy dance)
I am excited because I am no great lover of Winter. The kids are excited b/c we can go outside to play more often and we're going to watch a tadpole grow into a frog. Aaron is excited b/c it'll be the first time I have shaved my legs since the first day of Winter.

Is it just me?

Or does everyone have that person in their life; the one you want to take by the shoulders and shake while you yell:
WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LOVE ME FOR WHO I AM?

yeah.
so that's on my plate now.
I'm going to art it out.

Meet Rhianna!

Hey! We adopted a dog. Because I am crazy. Crazy for chaos. Her name is Rhianna, she's a 2 year old english coonhound. She is sweet and gentle and AMAZING with the kids. She is also scared of the cats (they are pretty pleased with that).

Adrian is currently enamored of her. He talks to her, feeds her, trails after her and makes sure that she is never lonely. He is so enamored of her that this morning he didn't even turn the TV on. Fiona cries whenever Rhianna goes outside. Did I mention that this dog is housetrained? That right there is a whole bag of weasels I can completely avoid. So, she's keeping us entertained and we're making sure the kids don't love on her too much....And Aaron the self-proclaimed hater of dogs has said that he might like to get another coonhound in the future. (behold the miracle of a good dog!)

Mixing business and life

I try not to have too much crossover between my art blog & this one, but I have just open my etsy store and I am too excited to keep it in one place.
So go visit!
Or I will set an onery 4 year old upon you.

norabbitshere.etsy.com

Farewell!

Last Monday, when it was still February, we had some men come and cut down our pear tree. It was a decision I struggled with. I liked the free fresh pears. I loved that the kids would beg to go outside and watch as I manuvered the giant manual pear picker around the branches, searching for the perfect snack. I loved that they would eat and laugh and smell like pears for the rest of the day.
But I did not care for the the pears that would fall when the wind blew, and turn to jelly on impact. I did not enjoy the fact that your previous owner had let you grow untended and that most of your fruit was too high to reach, even with a 20 foot pole. I did not like the influx of mice brought to my attention by generous cats. I did not like the wasps which were territorial and covered the back half of the yard for three months.
So farewell to you giant pear tree. You were fun for a bit.

Adrian's quote of the day

"But, Mom, I always want to get what I want"

Don't we all, my son.
Don't we all.

Hello, stranger!

Hey! I have not been ignoring you! Not as such. I have been busy over here, and the kids have ensured that daily life isn't boring! Adrian was quite the hellion last week: he bit his sister, threatened to punch me "until you die", and generally explored the boundries of acceptable behavior and my patience. He IS still alive, and so are we all. Fiona has been exploring the world of negotiations, alternately declaring "no!" and "2 more minutes!" She is also trying to convince Lunchbox to be her bestest friend ever....

There was snow. Adrian & Aaron shoveled. I sat inside in the warm and played with Fion.

Fion's turn to play with snow! We brought it inside and set her up on a towel on the kitchen floor. I tried to show her how to make a snowman, but all she really wanted to do was eat it.

Hey February!

It's February! And we're enjoying a false spring! The temperature is above freezing and should be for a few more days. I'm so happy, I could cry!
But instead, I'll recap the past few weeks: with photos!

Fiona! Is huge! And looks more like my mom & her sisters every day. She is lovely and mostly good humored. And still insists: I need dogs. (God bless that girl!)

The snow has all melted, but when there was snow, Adrian took to balancing precariously on fallen branches.

And hey! the sparrows are back! Which means that real spring is approaching, even if we get more nasty cold & snow.

We are chugging along. Adrian only has 2 days of school this week, thanks to parent/teacher conferences and some other stuff. I am hoping that the warm will hold out long enough for us to take a trip to the zoo.

And Wenesday is Aaron's birthday. He's not a big birthday celebration kind of guy, but too bad for him because I am. There will be birthday dinner and birthday pudding (he doesn't like birthday cake), and birthday dancing. Mostly the kids and I will dance and he will watch and laugh.

48 hours. Of minor mayhem.

Hello to all!

For those of you who know me, you probably know that I love animals. I learned the unpleasant and hard way the ultimate truth of NOT caring for animals when I was in elementary school--they were hamsters. I regret that due to my ineptitude they became ex-hamsters sooner than they should have. But again, I was 9 and I learned a valuable lesson: domesticated animals can't take care of themselves.
We currently have 2 cats and I have been lobbying for a dog since Aaron and I got married.
I would say let's get a dog!
And he would say NO! I have been bitten by dogs! On the butt!
And I would say but that was years ago! And you do have a very cute tushie!
And he would say my tushie is quite awesome, but we're not getting a dog!
And I would say but I love dogs!
And he would say but they are terrifying--teeth out of nowhere!
Then I would list all the dogs with which he has had a good teeth-free relationship.
And he would go yeah, but we can't have a dog now because a) we have babies b) we are renting c) dogs are terrifying.

Well, we are no longer renting.
And Adrian is 4.
And the apple of his eye, Fiona Leigh, keeps saying "i need dogs". He has been outnumbered, outvoted, and has given in. (hooray!)
Thus the great dog search of 2009 has begun. Last night we went to the animal welfare league shelter. Rows upon rows of dogs, leaping at their cages, barking their fool heads off. The whole time, Adrian has his hands over his ears and Fiona is clapping her hands exclaiming "yay! dogs!". We met 3 dogs that we thought might be a good match. The first dog was a one and half year old male hound dog mix. He was the size we wanted and was reported to be good with cats and children. It was hard to tell because his tail was tucked between his legs the whole time, and the look on his face was "please don't hurt me". It was so sad. The second dog was a 4 year old female, she was friendly, playful and sweet...and had been handed over because she had snapped at her previous owner's child. And the last was a large male black lab. He was a giant spazz and kept knocking Fiona over. She didn't mind, but I could just see him inadvertently destroying the whole house.
So that trip was a wash. We looked again on petfinder and contacted a few rescue groups, but as Aaron says we aren't looking for A dog, we're looking for THE dog.

And then there was today. I went to the dentist. I like my dentist. Sadly, he only does root canals now....so I have a new dentist. He looks like a cross between Jason Bateman and Rod Stewart. But he filled a cavity and I'm scheduled to go back next Thursday and get 2 more filled. And then, because I have hit the dental jackpot! I have to get a root canal/crown and I need my wisdom teeth extracted in the next 12 months. I am a lucky lucky girl!

As a result of todays novacaine, I spent the better part of today looking like a lopsided chipmunk. Aaron spent the better part of today trying not to laugh at me. He was mostly successful.

Where oh where oh

Where did my safety glasses go?
I need them b/c I have some glass cutting and soldering to do.
I am crafty like ice is cold.

I love me some flamey burney hot molten metal.
(With appropriate safety precautions and emergency fire extinguisher at the ready)

Although there are days when the idea of walking around weilding a flamethrower does hold a certain appeal on a primal level.

Yeeee haw!

And other exclamations!
We are most pleased to see the era of Bush & Cheney to come to an end. Now maybe we can just get our soldier friends home (hi jesse!), make a little cash, and mend all of those damaged relationships across the globe.

A funny:
We were watching the inaugural proceedings on tv and every time Obama was on the screen Adrian anounced: There's our emperor!

I hate winter.

And Old Man Winter knows it. He's taking it personally. Let me say this: a high of negative 4 is not the way to win me over, Old Man.

Ice! And Snow! And frosty frosty doooooooom!
(Photographic evidence to follow)

Awesome.

Hey! It's really cold here. And there's snow. Lots of snow. And it's warmer in Oslo (Norway) than it is here. It's so cold, in fact, that they have cancelled school tomorrow. Enjoy some pictures of our snow, taken through the windows of our house.

The sunset out the dining room window. It was the most color we had all day.

This is the snow engulfing Adrian's tricycle, as taken through the kitchen window.

Our lamp post out front, wearing a hat of snow.

The railing on the front steps. Note the wicked looking icicle.

Winter white everywhere. brrrr.

Hey! It's 2009!

Farewell 2008--you were bittersweet, memorable, and left quietly.
No, really. This was the first year in the 4 that I've lived in Chicagoland that the New Year wasn't marked by gunfire. I love my new house. My neighbors rang in the year banging pots and pans. At this point, they could fling dog turds into my yard and I'd be ok with that because it doesn't involve firearms.
I am excited for 2009. New president! Adrian goes back to school Monday! Fiona turns 2! And I am a bread-baking fool. I love that book! Witness the first loaf from the oven:
It was delicious, smeared with marmalade. The kids had theirs with Nutella. And we ate the whole loaf. Nom nom nom.

From our family to yours:
May 2009 bring you awesomeness like...

trees made of playdoh and...

crazy hair.

Peace.

Christmas--part 3.

Hunh. I guess I loaded these backwards. Bear with me. So, Saturday after Christmas was the Puetz Family Christmas. An event, in my opinon, not to be missed. It's an 8-10 hour event, which revolves around food, food, food, and more food. And if you're of age there's booze, too. And once we've eaten until we may very well burst, there's presents. And after presents? Dessert! It's basically Thanksgiving with presents. A smattering of photos for you:

Shana, Alison, and Adrian with tiny electronics.

Fiona and Shana, relaxing on the couch.

Adrian with his new love: a Leapfrog Leapster. And hooray for that thing--it keeps him from asking to play the Lego Indiana Jones on the XBox ALL DAY EVERY DAY.

Fiona with her new love: Brobee from Yo Gabba Gabba! You'll note that she has both the large, fully animated one and the smaller one. It's like original and travel size!

Adrian and Fiona in front of the downstairs tree at Nana's house. We took 6 pictures, this was the best.

In summary: we had a 4 part Christmas. I am exhausted. Thank you and Goodnight.

Eighteen months! Plus some random bits.

Fiona! She's 18 months. She's giving me a run for my money. It's a good thing she's so darned cute...




Lately, she has been protesting both nap and bedtime. I can get her to nap every other day, although she only napped once while we were at the in-laws for 4 days. So we're running on a sleep deficit, which makes her a little less easy-going and much more prone to provoke Adrian. Today she actually pulled his hair. (Granted, he was the instigator, but hair pulling is verboten) And the thing about protesting sleep that gets me is that the screamy crying fit only happens when I put her to bed. Aaron puts her down--silence. Nana puts her down--silence. I put her down, you can count on 15-45 minutes of hysteria. It's like I won the crappy lottery. And I thought maybe it was just an age thing, so I went back and looked at what I had to say about Adrian at 18 months. It seems that while the general tantrums are the same, this sleepless crap is all Fiona Leigh.

In other news, Adrian and I mixed up a big batch of bread dough from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day--and are anticipating fresh bread for breakfast! YUUUUUM! If only I had some brie cheese to smear on it with my marmalade. (I harbor a love for marmalade that borders on the pathological)

At some point I'll post about this years' holiday extravaganza and Adrian's love of technology.

And below: photographic evidence of my parents' visit! It's a very rare photo because in it my Mom is smiling! Usually she wears a "don't point that thing at me" expression.

Two thoughts

1. The only problem with leftover Chinese food is that when it's gone your fridge still smells like eggrolls.

2. Snow! And more snow! I drove the kids 3 blocks over to a friends house to play and it was a slip-slidey adventure. Apparently if school is not in session our street is not a plow-priority. I need a plastic sled that the kids can sit in and then I can haul them snow-dog style.

Ouch!

We had an ice storm last night. As a result, our front steps were buried under ice that fell off the awning. When I stepped out the front door to put Adrian on the bus, I was expecting ice steps. I was not expecting an icy hill. I turned around to tell Adrian to watch for the ice and fell. Fell, then slid down the icy hill to where the sidewalk would have been if it wasn't covered with ice. Thankfully, I landed on my butt and not anything breakable. Somehow I managed the whole thing without dropping Adrian's backpack or the cookies for the neighbors--who witnessed it all. Sicilians on ice! Coming to a slippery slope near you!
Sadly, now my butt hurts.

A rebuttal, with a side order of snark.

The question: So what did you cook that was so objectionable to a 4 year old that he would rather starve himself than eat it?

The answer: Tamale pie. Consisting of leftover taco meat (which he ate earlier), black beans (oh, how i love them), corn (oh, how fiona loves it), and pureed tomatoes. Topped with cornbread topped with monterey jack cheese.

I know, I am the most evil and unfeeling mother this side of the Mississippi.

Next: How about this - if you want him to fatten up, give him fattening foods that he will eat.

The answer: I am not running a restaurant. I cook one type of food for each meal. If I give Adrian "fattening foods" then we will all be eating "fattening foods". And the list of "fattening foods" that Adrian eats is as follows:
Fried chicken, no skin.
French fries.
Corn dogs.
That's it. It reads like a manual to heart attack, childhood obesity, or type 2 diabetes. We'll pass on that, thanks.

Next:Don't make this a contest of wills with a four year old.

The answer: I am not having a battle of wills. I always put one thing on his plate I KNOW he will eat. If he decides to be pigheaded about the whole plate, I am not breaking out my short-order chef's hat and popping back into the kitchen. Dinner is always a difficult time, as it happens at the end of the day when he is worn out but not yet ready for bed. The last time I made pancakes for breakfast he complained that they weren't circley enough. Pancakes. He complained about a food you eat with syrup.

Clearly the problem is not me.

Egads!

Well, it's finally happened. I've talked so much, and at such length that I've lost my voice. (Doom!) How am I supposed to yell at the kids now? (kidding!)

My parents were here for too short a visit and we were tremendously busy. I like to cram as much as possible into every day because who knows when they'll be back? Last Friday we went down to the Art Institute to see the tapestry exhibit and wow. It was really breathtaking and slightly overwhelming--as I find most major art exhibitions to be. At some point your brain reaches overload and your senses just quit. It was amazing to see what could be accomplished with what ammounted to bits of colored string.

Adrian and Fiona were of course lovely and charming with their grandparents. They have since made up for their prolonged good behavior. For example, last night Adrian decided he didn't want to eat what I had cooked, so he spent 15 minutes sitting at the table (with his full plate in front of him) crying and yelling "But I'm so hungry!". Meanwhile, Fiona is looking at me asking "Adrian, owies?" which is what she asks every time he pitches a fit. In her mind I'm sure she thinks her brother is the most injury-prone person to walk the planet.

For her own little self, Fiona is on a nap imbargo. Deeeelightful. Monday she had her 18 month check up and she's only 9 pounds lighter than Adrian. She really IS going to dress him like a baby doll if he doesn't start putting on some weight soon.

And now there are suspicious noises coming from the kitchen.
Toodle-oo!

Things I've learned

1. You can be around and care for ill children for 4 weeks before your immune system gives up and you want to find a hole to crawl into for a while.
a. The size of the hole will be in direct proportion to the number of things on your to-do list
b. The severity of the illness is directly related to the probability of help (if help is available, you will be miserable but not at death's door. if there is no help, it's best to call your loved ones and bid them adieu)

2. If you should ever be evicted because of a monkey, you should definitely have someone in your life who will let you sleep on their couch while you look for a new place to live.

3. I can no longer suspend my disbelief for children's films. It is a sad day--I can't stop myself from questioning the legal implications of removing a 40-foot idol from the heartlands of Africa for the purpose of the monetary gain of a museum in New York City. (Anyone who can tell me which film this is will get a cool and completely frivolous prize)

BE FOREWARNED!
My mother is coming to visit. Thus, in the grand Chicago tradition the weather will be crappy while she is here. Wondering why Wednesday through Sunday will be cold enough to turn children to child-sicles? It's because the Weather Commission (a superhero-like force what controls the weather) has decided that every time my mom visits, they will punish us all with unseasonable weather. Which is totally lame, because my mom is awesome. Double lame because my dad is coming too and we were going to try to convince them to up and move to Chicago--third largest city in the U.S., resplendant with architectural beauty, and also I am here (which should be reason enough, right?)

Gobble gobble!

For Thanksgiving, we went to Rick and Elaine's house. (Aaron's aunt & uncle) They host a great many Puetz family get-togethers, partially because of their central location and partially because their house is big enough to hold all of us--I think there were 23 at Thanksgiving this year. My brother Jono was along for the visit, which was a treat--he's now a carded starving artist and lives all the way in Connecticut so we don't see him much. Aaron has promised him an Xbox 360 if he moves to Chicago, and I wholeheartedly endorse this bribe. It's part of my grand plan to convince everyone I know and love to move closer to me. Or as I like to think of it: coooooome toooo Chicaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaago.
At any rate, Thanksgiving was good fun. I told Aaron before we left that he was going to be the sober, responsible one for the day--good thing too, as cocktail hour started at one and went through dinner. After Thanksgiving, we piled back into the car, Aaron drove us home and the next day we put Jono on the plane back to Connecticut. Not that we were lonely-- we had Aaron's parents and sister with us Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I have to say that having them around makes me see the wisdom in multi-generational households. Soooo much can be accomplished when there are extra hands and extra eyes for watching babies. And next week my parents will be in for a few days!

Thanksgiving...illustrated back to front.
Here is Adrian and Cousin Shana taking a break from Nerf guns--I don't know about you but I see the resemblance between the two of them.

Here is my brother Jono, myself and Miss Fiona Leigh...as well as Grandpa Dick (Puetz family patriarch) to the right, and Erica (Aaron's sister) to the left.

Back at Casa Fleck-arlo, we were entertained by the musical stylings of Jono and Bluesman AD on harmonica.

Adrian really got into playing the harmonica. He loves music--listening to it, trying new instruments. He told me the other day that he wants to learn to play the violin (in addition to the piano, guitar, drums, and tuba) . Perhaps watching hours of Mary Poppins as a wee one really did have an effect on him.

When it's bad...

It's AWFUL.
Today was one of those rare days when I wondered if I could join the foreign legion. It was also one of those days that made me realize why some animals eat their young.
Adrian was up too late last night and too early this morning, Fiona is cutting teeth and on a nap embargo. They were alternately trying to get under the other's skin and whining and crying at me.
There was a moment when I considered calling my childless friends and telling them "don't do it! don't fall for it! once they're here there's no turning back! run! run while you still can!"

And today was the first day that Adrian called me a "mean mommy". I expected it would come up eventually. What I did not expect was that it would happen in defense of his sister. So that was a pleasant surprise...or maybe just nice wrapping around a pile of crap. Hard to tell, really.

Whaaaaat else? (Welcome to the non sequitur part of this evening's program)
The dodge dealership down the street is offering a buy one, get one for $1 deal.
My brother comes to visit Monday--woot!
I like dogs. Specifically the Italian Spinoni. We may get one...maybe we can trade the kids for a dog.
Fiona's new favorite word: No! (She's not even 18 months yet and she's got enough attitude for a whole room of eighth grade girls) I can only hope her new enthusiasm for this word is because she doesn't feel good and not because she's really turning into a disagreeable toad. Everything is a lost cause when matched with her other favorite word: Mine!

And I'm tired, so now I'm going to bury myself beneath many blankets and hope against hope tomorrow is better.

Aha!

So, Aaron is home from his 5 days of training in Ft. Smith Arkansas and the children are on him like cockleburrs. Which allows me to sit quietly in the corner and re-read a book that used to be a favorite of mine. The reason I had brought this book up from it's basement abode is that I got a call from a girlfriend looking for the name of a particular image and I knew it was in there somewhere, and wasn't quite sure where I have stashed my art history books tho it's probably in there too.
That was a long winded way of telling you that in the book there is a theory that women (specifically. sorry, boys) are more attuned to the natural cycles* and thus more attuned to a cosmic sense of time as opposed to a linear sense of time--as we are now familiar with it. Which leads me to this conclusion:

I am never late, I am merely moving according to cosmic time.

*This attunement, the author declares, is due to the fact that the menstrual cycle is 28 days and the lunar cycle is 28 days, and the period of gestation for a fetus is actually 10 lunar months (280 days or 40 weeks). Making women more in tune with the moon than with, say, the timetables at the train station. (I do realize that nobody is in tune with train station timetables except perhaps the rats and roaches that have lived their brief lives beneath the rumbling rails)

I really do need to get out more.

The busy and the rediculous

Adrian is happy when he's up to his elbows in crafts. So far this week, we've written a letter to Santa and made Thanksgiving wreaths. We've also been assembling paper turkeys to take to our Thanksgiving hostess. And Fiona...scroll down for her latest and greatest.

Taadah! She can put on Adrian's shoes (this is her smile for the camera) and...we have the return of Buckethead. Buckethead 2.1 if you will. Fiona is opposed to actual hats, but she's down with wearing not-hat things on her head and declaring it "hat!". This led to a giant hissy fit from Adrian, who all of a sudden is mr. precise: if it's not a hat you can't call it one. Oh! Four is Fussy! Three is Terrible! and Two is Trying! I can only hope that Five will be Fabulous--or that I don't run out of Merlot. Cheers!

BANG!

Hey all! I have recovered (mostly) from the bone-rattling cough of 2008--and compared to the strep throat of '07 it was nothing. Upon recovery, I discovered that Fiona's hair had grown over her eyes in the manner of that sheepdog from those Bugs Bunny cartoons. I didn't want to cut all her hair because the back does this really awesome curly thing, so I determined the solution to be: bangs! Now she looks like a toddler and not so much like a warner brothers cartoon character.

Also it should be duly noted that she is a daddy's girl if ever there was one. Last night for dinner we had roast chicken and she and Aaron stood over it and picked the carcass clean. She was pretty thrilled with the lack of eating utensils and the general caveman aspect of eating meat directly off the bones. Witness:

How do?

hello, and don't mind the phlegm!

Adrian and I seem to have acquired the cold that will not die. I've got the chest-congested horrible hacking cough, and he's got the river of snot flowing from his nose. We could have gone as Pestilence for Halloween, but I don't think the neighbors would've appreciated it much.

Fion and Aaron are untouched by the germy germs. It seems unfair really, that the two people who care least about their health should be unscathed. Fiona eats things off the ground, for crying out loud! Things like dirt!

Halloween was good. In the spirit of things, Fiona would respond to the trick or treaters chorus with "ZoeyandElmo!" Adrian got to trick or treat AND hand out candy AND sit by the firepit. He capped the night off by sitting the wrong way in his chair and falling over into a pile of sticks. Sticks that were NOT on fire, to clarify.
Speaking of fire--hey wow. There was a giant fire in Tinley last night. It was about 3 blocks from us, on the other side of the train station--5 engines were sent to put it out and there were 2 explosions. And I can't find any information about it on any of the local newspaper websites. What's the deal with that? I surely can't be considered the source of breaking news here.
And now I am going to go to bed. Maybe I can sleep this cough away...
Pass the nyquil, wouldja?

Guess who's FOUR!

Why, The Amazing Adrian, of course. And as an early birthday present, Jack Frost brought some snow.

And for your viewing pleasure, here is Fiona Leigh. It's almost time to eat so all is right in her world.

We need

I have decided that we need some kind of climby-thing for the backyard. Something that will keep Adrian from climbing the exterior of the steps and all over the living room furniture.

This looks promising, but I don't know that I'm ready to drop $250. Although, if he tears apart my couch I'll be spending more on a new couch....

maybe I'll just sew some weights into the cuffs of his pants.

Snicklefritz and more

Hello Internets!

I have not been posting as I have been living. And cleaning up vomit (not my own) and silently cursing Aaron's employers.

Lets start with the vomit, shall we? (Note to self--if ever greeted this way in a restaurant: run!) Adrian has a sensitive disposition. About everything. I'm fairly certain he was born this way and that I did not turn him into the kind of kid who has a meltdown over trying new foods, but back to the topic at hand....He has a fear of new foods and a stubborn streak that would impress a mule. As a result I'm always trying to find foods that are similar to foods he will eat in order to gently widen his gastronomic repetoire. Well, last week I overdid it. ANd it took me a full 4 nights of vomit to narrow down the offending culprits to either tree nuts or milk. So we're back to a milkless, tree nut free diet. He has his 4 year old check up in November and I think I'm going to go ahead and request an allergy test so I don't have to play vomit-cleaner on a regular basis.

And the silent cursing is two-fold. Fold one: sending Aaron out of town for 5 days for a training seminar based off of the Army's 27 catagories of good leadership. Hullo you morons! Aaron was in the Army. He was an officer. he is overly familiar with said 27 catagories. And fold two: He gets home and surprise and congrats! We're changing your schedule 180degrees! You were on night shift, now you are on days! And those days that used to be your days off will be the days you work! And you had vacation? Well, I just don't know about that....
I hate that they treat him like a doormat.
Don't they know that's my job?
(kidding!)
The computer is low on battery power, so no spellcheck for you!

Crazy!

So dear friends, the time is upon us again when Aaron's wacky schedule gets even wackier. As a result, the kids are staging a sleep boycott. Adrian was up last night at 11, 1, 5, and 6. Fiona was up at 3 and 4.

This is how kids make you stupid. It's like...something terrible. With no sleep.

Yeah.
Totally.

You like pictures?

The kids hanging out in the garage. It's where they sleep. In a kennel. I kid! I kid! Adrian actually has the biggest bedroom in the house, but those are photos for another day.

This is Adrian in the living room, talking on the phone to Granma. (It's like he's 13 already)

Here is Fiona, practicing for Mardi Gras.

Here is Fiona, devouring an apple. She eats the whole thing: stem, core, seeds. She and Cookie Monster could go head-to-head in an eating contest.

And lastly, Adrian and Fiona relaxing while watching a movie this morning. Awwww.

the mystery of moving...

Now I know I threw A LOT of stuff out while packing, but I know that I didn't throw out 3 USB cords.
How can it be that 3 USB cords can vanish in a 4 mile move? So I am shopping for a new USB cord so I can upload all the photos I have to show you! Photos of the kids, photos of the house--many pictures to come!

Crazy, you say?

I am. Always have been a little. But I believe that the ultimate testament to my crazy is as follows:
Come Thursday, I will have 6 musicians camping in my basement for 2 nights.
(Providing that the van isn't too broken and the venue they are supposed to play isn't underwater.)
So I have been mopping the basement (stupid effing hurricane) with Pinesol. Repeatedly. So much so that there is a faint piney afterscent that follows me wheree're I go.
And! as if that's not enough--I have volunteered to find them a new venue should their scheduled venue be rained out. Do I actually know anyone in a position to book a show at a venue? No.
But I know people who may know people!
And I can be very persuasive.
Persuasive like a steamroller.

How's your weather?

too many...so much...rain.
flooded basement.
much mopping.
f--- you, hurricane ike. f-you in your f-ing eye.

Not hiding!

Oi!

I am not hiding-- I promise. I'm just busy and self-absorbed at the moment.
I was doing some crazy running around to get Adrian enrolled in the preschool provided by the school district. (yipee!) His new daily agenda: make mom crazy. And I'd have to say that he goes above and beyond.

Fiona is rapidly expanding her vocabularly. Her two favorite words: Emmie! and Casey! Which would be the names of the dogs on either side of us.

As for me, I have been spending hours in my studio! I love having my own space again. I love not having to clean up other people's messes before I can start my work. And I have scoped out 4 different venues to try and sell my work.

And once I find the USB cord I'll upload some photos.

Why I love this crazy milennium

As I sit here typing to you and drinking my frosty cold limoncello, a robot is doing my vacuuming. And I'm not talking about Aaron, my friends. Oh no. We have a lovely delightful and wondrous roomba from irobot. And i love him.
Another thing that's great about this technology age? I am wireless! I could be typing to you from the can! I'm not, but if the need arose I totally could.
Also theres this nifty internets thing--it's the best way to procrastinate EVER. Read a blog, click a link, and 3 hours later you know everything you never wanted to know about the life cycle of an earwig. (ew)
And did I mention digital cable? It's the best babysitter ever. I mean, I love that sprout channel. It's the best way to keep Adrian from bellowing my name as I'm trying to change a filthy diaper or put Fiona down for a nap. And I can watch MadMen on demand! I haven't yet, but I'm so going to.
Speaking of procrastination, I really need to go shower. But first, I should look and see if the weather tomorrow is going to be weather--like, because you just never know.

Funny thing...

Those of you who know me in real life know that I have multiple email addresses. One of these addresses requires frequent changes to my password to protect my safety yadda yadda yadda. At first I simply rotated through other passwords, but this account also has a thing where you can't doubleback until you've gone through a dozen original passwords. At our old house I had the computer remember the password for me and sign in for me and defeat the whole purpose of the crazy password change game. But... but this is the new house. With the new IP address. And the new computer, which doesn't even know how to get to the old email--I actually have to type the address into the browser.
And?
And I don't remember the latest password. I have tried at least 6--one new one each day and I am at a loss. And I didn't write it down. Sure I could call the helpdesk and have them reset my password, but by the time I get the chance to sit at the computer they have stopped answering the phone. So?
Basically I've done the online equivilent of locking myself out of the house.
I'm sure that sometime in the next few days I'll get the chance to make that phone call but in the meantime just email me at my gmail address, ok?

Mostly.

Hello beloved readers!
We are mostly in our new home. Every day we unpack one room, the next day we wonder should that really go there? And then we arrange, rearrange, and arrange again. The good news? We love our house--we love our neighbors--and the kids rooms are unpacked. We have gone wireless!
The bad news? The kids have gone to crazytown.

moving day

hullo dear readers!
yesterday aaron and i bought a house. yipee!
today is moving day.
moving day--bane of my existence.
here's a transcript for your viewing pleasure:
me: what is this shit? where did this come from? how did we amass all this shit? where am i supposed to put all this shit? should i really be moving boxes that have been unopened for 3 years or more?
aaron: i dunno.
me: razzin frazzin flibbity gibbet! (twitchy eye)

so...i'll be a little busy and a lot offline for the next 5 or so days.
if you need me, you can always ring me on the telephone.

back to the doom of packing.
DOOOOM!