Sunday Afternoon in Pleasantville

The house has this rare "perfect mom" feel to it today. Clean wood floors and newly vacuumed rugs (clearly someone needed a little alone time), a running dishwasher, the hushed sounds of a snoozing baby playing over the monitor and the smell of baked oatmeal with raspberry and walnut wafting into the playroom.

Clean floors! Rejoice! Perfect for a game of Boggle...or, to stare in confusion at this thing that your parents call a game, but doesn't seem to be a game at all...

I love that moment when batter becomes baked good. You mix your eggs, milk, flour, sugar etc. grease the 9x13 and place this promising pan of gloppy goop into a preheated oven. I am so impatient in those first few minutes (this is why I do best with cookies--10 minutes to bliss), but I find, each time, that the wait is SO worth it. As soon as I catch the first tantalizing whiff of my baking treasure, I shift into relax.

Fresh out of the oven. Baked Oatmeal with Raspberry and Walnuts

Right now, the aroma of cinnamon, brown sugar and raspberry is making a lovely introduction. With it comes the giddy excitement of a three-year-old who was promised sweet things if listening ears proved to be "on" and the contentment of a mom who rarely gets to make such promises--not because of poor behavior, but because of limited time to do things that moms are supposed to do.

Soon the dishwasher will need to be emptied, the rug will be a less than chic dog hair shag, the baby will cry and the oatmeal will be gone, but, for now, I'll just enjoy the perfection.

Baked oatmeal, will you marry me?

Heaven is a noisy vacuum cleaner

I am confused by my relationship with the vacuum cleaner.

I hate having to use it, because I know that there is a definite time commitment that I'm making once I turn it on.  I can't just vacuum " a rug", I have to do the entire room, furniture included.  Having two shedding dogs creates a need for a wall to wall, floor to ceiling approach to hoovering.  If we didn't vac, we'd be up to our ears in hair within a week.  Seriously, it's awful...and gross.  It's awfully gross.

Once I'm done vacuuming, I instantly feel better, lighter, more carefree.  Minimal dog hair=maximum positive vibes from mom. Long term gains.

Today, however, I became aware of yet another gain in "pro" list of the house cleaning pro/con debate. 

Everyone leaves you alone.

No one bothers you when you vacuum. In our house, both dogs and Hen seem to be afraid of the thing, Alice is still too young to be affected at all but she's not inclined to army crawl her way towards the noise and Mike knows to stay out of my way. Usually when I'm vacuuming it means that I'm totally stressed out and fed up with the dog hair tumbleweed rolling across our wood floors and gathering in the corners of our rugs. Mike is no dummy.  He steers clear as soon as he hears the whoosh and whir of the vac.

I've just finished the living room and am feeling calm, cool, hair-free.  Thank you vacuum cleaner. You are my ally, my counselor, my superhero grime-fightin' machine.

Your own personal Internet

I sent this message via email to a few of my co-workers last night but am now realizing that it's totally blogworthy. We should probably quote crazy politicians more often.

 Email:

Greg made my life sunnier when he casually used the phrase "series of tubes" in our iPad meeting this morning. And so, since I feel it's been far too long since we first were touched by the wise words of former Sen. Ted Stevens (may he rest in peace). I am sharing the following in its (near) entirety:

Ten movies streaming across that, that Internet, and what happens to your own personal Internet? I just the other day got… an Internet was sent by my staff at 10 o'clock in the morning on Friday. I got it yesterday [Tuesday]. Why? Because it got tangled up with all these things going on the Internet commercially. […] They want to deliver vast amounts of information over the Internet. And again, the Internet is not something that you just dump something on. It's not a big truck. It's a series of tubes. And if you don't understand, those tubes can be filled and if they are filled, when you put your message in, it gets in line and it's going to be delayed by anyone that puts into that tube enormous amounts of material, enormous amounts of material. Best.Thing.Ever.

Ahem..hello?

Is this thing on?  Helloo-oooo?  Anyone still out there?

Radio silence for just under a month, and it's not that I haven't thought about the blog. I'd like to say (or, more aptly, I had prepared to say) that I've been so busy with my "40 bags in 40-ish days" project that I haven't had time for any other recreational activities.

False.

I have actually crossed a few things off the list, and am pleased with the progress of decluttering.  It got a little overwhelming there in the beginning when husband, inspired by my commitment to organization, decided to purge all of the basement clutter into the living room/dining room/porch.  Most of it has found its way to the Goodwill, or back to the basement, save for one lonely box of Kitten's 3-6 month clothing which just can't seem to get back to its home.  (ha!)

I can't really recap a month of stuff.  Mike completed his final of four summer classes. It still astounds me that he spent the past few months as both a full-time stay at home dad AND a full-time grad student.  Amazingly we still got to go on a nice long vacation and he got straight A's (along with much praise from all of his professors).  I couldn't be more proud of him!

Hen has been doing things that are decidedly "very Hen".  He's still golfing, also playing baseball and making up a lot of really clever jokes. He's memorizing his favorite songs and books and asking us how to spell certain words (uh-oh).  This week he moves into the next room at daycare--the room that you turn four in--I can hardly believe that my boy is this big. It's just not possible.

On to his sister. Oh sweet Alice. Alice is phenomenal.  No, really, she is.  She is phenomenally huge, phenomenally smart, phenomenally cute.  We've changed her middle name to Phenom, that's how outrageously phenomenal this kid has become (or, arguably, always was). One fun development over the summer has been Alice's increasingly sassy attitude. She comes from sassy genes (long line of 'em), so this shouldn't surprise us at all. When a student recently asked me "How do Henry and Alice spend their day?" I thought for a moment and then said "Henry plays every sport known to man, stopping occasionally to request sustenance and Alice makes sassy faces and sounds while army crawling around the house looking for things to eat...not always edible things, just 'things' in general."  This is still accurate.

As for me, life has been busy with increased numbers of visitors to campus and preparations for the fall. I'll be traveling, which I can't even talk about yet because it means that I'll be away from my kids and hubs for a period of time and I haven't yet come to terms with that reality. Aahh!  Stop talking about it!! Since part of my job has involved social media and writing (a part that I absolutely adore) my excuse for being absent has to do with the "work-life" balance that I try so desperately to find. Writing/blogging was feeling very "work" to me for a while, and I just needed a break. I'll post more about that later, but will say quickly that I'm REALLY excited about new developments at work and am looking forward to doing more in the area of marketing and communications.

Well, that's it.  Back to the kitchen to clean up dinner mess and gather things for tomorrow. Thanks for hanging in there while we were incognito! Good to be back.

40 Bags...40(ish) Days

I have been totally uninspired this past week. Maybe it's due to post-vacation blues. Maybe it's the exhausting, imposing, heat and humidity keeping my creativity at bay. For whatever reason, I just could not write this week.  Come to think of it, I couldn't do much of anything this week.

I am pushing myself out of this hazy, heat-induced, post-vacay creative slump. Pushing, I say. Yesterday, out of the blue, I remembered that cute little summer "to do" list I created back in mid-April (when I was sleep-deprived and crazy). Damn! It's August! I've done next to NONE of those things.  Summertime fail!! Recognizing an opportunity to get my "push-out-of-slump" on, I selected a few of the things on this list that we had yet to do and confidently wrote them up on the blackboard in the kitchen as our to-do for the week.

1. Make a kite & fly that kite 
2. Go on a bug hunt with Hen
3. Goodwill bag
and as a "maybe if you have enough time": 4. Make ice cream

Perhaps a bit high from the excitement that comes along with actually doing the things you say you'll do (shock! awe!) I took one of these tasks a bit further.

Behold! Forty Bags in Forty(ish) Days! (the "ish" because I know myself too well)

Forty locations throughout our home (including vehicles).  In each of these places, an opportunity to declutter. It's simple, really. I go to the cabinet under the kitchen sink and I take everything out, isolate and organize the stuff that we use/need, donate what I can, ditch the rest. Some locations are easier than others (basket in first floor bathroom is a five minute job...my dresser, a different story) but having all of these locations more organized will certainly help us feel less frazzled.

With that said, I'm going to go select a few of these on the list that I can take care of before Kit's nap is over. If there is one thing I enjoy more than making random lists, it's crossing things off of them!

We're Baa-aaack

Guess who has returned from va-caay-caaay?! That's right, our favorite little friends, Hen and Kitty. A week in the Outer Banks at Finis Terre (Latin for "End of the Earth") leaves us sun-kissed and in a bit of a beachy daze.  This was the perfect vacation, and the first with Liam and Alice, which made it especially wonderful.

There are many things that I enjoy about the beach. A general disregard for time is one of them. Keeping time at the beach matters very little. The clock doesn't limit our activities or dictate where we must be and when we must be there. There is not "9 o'clock" or "half-past three" at the beach. When you want to eat lunch, it's "lunch time", when you want to go to the beach, it's "beach time", when you want to nap, it's "nap time".  You're saying, "Hey, time, I really don't care that it's only noon and that I ate breakfast, oh, two hours ago, I'm having a margarita." It's my favorite part of beach vacation (second only to the memories we create with our family...and the aforementioned loose rules regarding how late it must be for one to enjoy a cocktail).

As for our schedule-loving kids, they did quite well. Naps still happened (for Kitty, at least...Hen held out for most of the week) and food was ready before bellies could eek out the first grumbly growl. Hen was a huge fan of beach time and took to the ocean like...well...a fish to...you know.

I took a ton of instagram photos throughout the week and posted many to my facebook page, but I've put many of them into a slideshow (previously posted) and included photos that Megan and Brigid snapped.  Hope you enjoy a little recap of our week of relaxation. If you haven't vacay-ed yet this year, maybe it will inspire you to do so!

Finis Terre 2011

Little slideshow of some of the photos taken throughout the week.

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

10 to 30

In ten minutes it will be July 15th. In ten minutes I will be thirty.

I've thought about this more than I would have expected. I'm not one to let something as silly as a number get in the way of the pleasure that comes with a day that is all about me (honestly, in my world, isn't every day about me?) ;)

I think I'm over-thinking "30" because everyone makes such a fracking big deal about it. What is really different about me or my life now that I'm a nice round number? How much of a leap will I take from 29 to 30? The other day I reflected on this with my sounding board and candy "dealer", Monty (not kidding about the dealer part...it's unhealthy...someone hear my cry for help please). Before I get into this, let me just add that everyone should have someone in their life named "Monty". It is so pleasing to say. If you don't know someone who happens to have a last name that lends itself to such a moniker, just pick a person you like and start calling them "Monty". I doubt they'll persist.

Anyways, I sat with Monty and worked through this idea of being a "person in their thirties". The majority of the time that I was a "person in their twenties" I was pretty terrified of life (or, I should have been). I was just finding some professional direction, I was blindly making my way through the gruesome world of the "single and ready to mingle" crowd, I was operating under the idea that it's "better to ask for forgiveness later than to seek permission now" without actually understanding what that meant.

In my twenties, weird things happened, and then some good things, and then a lot of dramatic things, and, ultimately, towards the end, the best things in my life. My marriage to Mike and my two cherubs, Hen and Kitty. In my twenties I experienced great happiness and triumph, as well as some great confusion and loss. I am not someone who likes to think about sad things. I don't dwell on pain and I will do anything to avoid discomfort. I'm a real big baby. With that said, I realize that I've learned more from those squishy, awkward, painful moments than I ever could have guessed. They've helped to shape me, and while it still hurts to think about them, I do feel oddly grateful for what they've brought me.

In my thirties, I have no doubt that there will still be plenty of discomfort. I know that I haven't figured things out, but I do have the confidence that comes with a few years of experience and a few stories to tell. Ten years ago I had a half-completed major in English, a super-cute new boyfriend (who would very shortly turn out to be majorly craptastic), an average relationship with my family...but I had reached my goal weight!!!

Now...I have a career that excites me, I have a husband that I am still majorly crushing on, two outstandingly cute, funny little kids and a relationship with my parents and siblings that is so important to me, I would do just about anything to protect it.

As for the goal weight...I have absolutely no idea. I threw out my scale years ago.

Hey, thirty-years-old, you're not lookin' so bad after all.

Hey...guess which one is me. Pretty sure it's obvi. Refused to take the glasses off for the entirety of the party. Celeb status at 3 years old. Baller.

mb

Something in the way she moves

Posting has been on hold this week. Not that there hasn't been enough to write about (there's been plenty), it's just that a mid-summer cold has had me out for the count. Honestly, I think my body is rejecting the idea of turning 30. Fever, sore throat, stuffy nose, achy body...yep, it's got to be a rare but serious Peter Pan/anti-aging allergy.

I'll tell you who is very interested in "growing up"...our little kitten! This series of photos was taken by Mike (on his cell phone) the course of a half an hour. She makes her way across the room, giggling and drooling all the while.

Just can't hold this kid down. She's on the move.

Ponyo Noodles

The new favorite "show" in our house is not actually a show at all, but a movie that we happened upon as we searched through our Netflix recommendations. That trusty list has brought us "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" and "Bones" and "Psych" and now, "Ponyo". An oddly named movie with a curious image and an all-star cast, "Ponyo" kept floating to the top of that list which has, to this point, only produced wonderful things (see list above). I have come to trust the Netflix recommended list blindly, it hasn't failed me yet.

So we start watching Ponyo one afternoon and instantly Hen is hooked. He's gotten to the age where he can follow a plot line well enough to stick with a movie for the full eighty minutes or so. I remember a year ago being asked "What is Henry's favorite movie?? Cars? Toy Story? Monsters Inc.?"  At  the time I was so surprised by the question that I had no answer at all--he could barely sit still for 10 minutes of Fireman Sam (different post altogether--terrifying kids program), how was he going to watch, relate to, and communicate interest in a movie?

At three years old, however, Hen is a true film aficionado. Opinionated and unapologetic, he will tell you immediately if he likes or dislikes something. Ponyo certainly falls into the "like" pile. 

Ponyo is a refreshing shift from Pixar-mania--which, I love, don't get me wrong, but after a while you  end up with John Ratzenberger's voice lodged in your brain. This film is also kind of trippy. Ponyo is a fish-girl (but not a mermaid) with a human father who protects the ocean and a mother who is the goddess of the sea (or maybe is the sea herself? that part is pretty vague). She breaks free from her strict father's sunken ship/bubble/home under the sea and makes her way to the surface. Souske (pronounced "So-skay") is a curious little boy who finds Ponyo when she washes up to shore and keeps her as his pet. Within the first two minutes of the main characters meeting, Ponyo licks blood from a cut on Souske's finger and the cut heals instantly. That's when you know that the business is about to get ca-raaazy.  And it does. It gets super crazy.  I won't say anything further, but do recommend checking this movie out. We are kind of in love with it, especially in love with its weirdness, also appreciating the relevance of its message in our world today.

Now, the thing about the three-year-old movie-goer is that the movie can never just happen on the screen. You have to experience it in real life as well. Mimicking the actions of the characters, or adopting their signature phrases and repeating them ad nauseum for the next two days, even requesting to eat or drink the same things that the characters do--for a three-year-old, watching a movie requires active participation.  One of the cutest scenes in "Ponyo" is the scene that finds Ponyo and Souske eat ramen cooked by Souske's mother (note: at this point Ponyo has turned into a girl, and NO ONE seems to question it...from fish one moment to girl the next...nope, not weird, totally acceptable). Ponyo and Souske dine on noodles, ham, green onions, hard boiled eggs--this ramen is the real deal. Now, as I've probably mentioned before, one of our most favorite spots in Carlisle (or, in the whole world) is Issei Noodle. Ohhh Issei, you fill our bellies with Vermicelli Noodle Salad, Yaki Udon, Chaushu Ramen and you fill our hearts with love. Thanks to Issei, Hen has had his fair share of Miso Udon and when he asked for "Ponyo Noodles" last night, we knew he wouldn't just eat them, he would LOVE them.  Instead of hitting up our fav noodle shop for the regular, we decided to make our version of the Ponyo recipe at home.

Ramen, ham, zucchini, mushrooms, hard-boiled egg in broth

Ponyo and Souske faah-reaking out over their ramen. What? Have they never seen food before? Oh, wait, that's right, Ponyo was a fish five minutes ago...

Ramen for everyone! (except for Alice...who is in the background chewing on a bath towel)

Ponyo ramen without the mushrooms (for me)

The noodles were delicious and the experience of eating exactly what Ponyo and Souske ate made the movie even more magical for Hen.

If you're in the mood for a good, light, slightly odd children's movie, you should really watch "Ponyo", and if you want to take it to the max, dine on some Ponyo ramen and sip hot tea and be just like the characters you see in the movie. Ahh. A three-year-old's heaven.

Who Wore it Better? Wedding Edition

Seersucker suits with pink/peach hued ties and tan bucks? I'd say that when it comes to this confident summer look, it's a dead tie between Henry and his favorite "big boy" Robert. Hen said "I didn't feel like smiling, because I wasn't happy, but I was." when he saw this photo and his scowling mug.  Other thoughts he has had today:

"I didn't like you dancing at the wedding because I wanted you to be my mommy and not to dance."

and

"I will take your iPad to school with me tomorrow so that I can do my plans on it."

and

"Daddy and I are doing work. We are doing the hedges outside. You can't do it because you aren't a big boy. Girls don't do hedges, they only drink soda."  (this invited a lengthy conversation on how girls and boys are equals and if mommy wanted to trim the hedge outside, she could certainly do just that.)

Oh the things that come out of a three-year-old's mouth. Precious.

Overtiredness, I loathe thee

What a weekend. Filled with wedding wonderfulness, family pride and only a touch of drama. We are all exhausted and looking forward to hitting the hay early tonight. I'll post wedding photos as I get them, but will keep it short and say that Mary and Brian's wedding was absolutely, hands-down, one of the best weddings I have even been to, and with such a huge family, I've been to quite a few.  Mary and Brian were perfect, the ceremony was personal and touching, the reception was beyond fun. All in all, the best way to celebrate my baby sister and new brother-in-law.  Hen & Kitty did very well and, again with the super big family and wealth of friends had plenty of eyes watching them and arms to hold them. They were surrounded by love and attention, which is something that fills Mike and I with joy (and appreciation, given that we were both a part of the wedding party).

The day after "the big day" is also quite important. It is the time to power down. Post-wedding exhaustion sets in differently for everyone. Some get cranky and snappy, others become giddy and punchy, many just disconnect and retreat to the couch. In the last sixty minutes, Henry has circled through all of these versions of overtiredness at least once.

First he was pleasant and low-key, playing "cut the rope" with me as we laid on the couch. Quickly, however, he moved on to giddy and punchy, as he forced me into a game of hide-and-go-seek by aggressively throwing blankets and pillows on top of me. As I ducked and took cover, politely explaining that I couldn't play "at this moment" but would in a bit, he ventured into cranky and snappy. Cranky and snappy is absolutely the worst phase of all. Hen had a freak-out, hitting-fest melt-down, I was on the receiving end. Dramatic screams, sweaty red face, flailing arms/fists/legs/feet, I had to be on my a-game to make sure that I didn't get a blow to the stomach as I quickly wrestled him into time-out.

This is absolutely NOT the ideal when it comes to discipline. I know this. There should be conversation, there should be plenty of warning before the time out, there should be multiple attempts to de-escalate, in short, there should be calmness and thought put into discipline. In overtired mode, however, there is none of this. There is only frustration, disorientation and the near-impossible task of suppressing the scream that is building up inside of you. In that moment, the most important thing to remember is also the most difficult: You are the adult, so act like it.

Thirty minutes later, after a time-out/meltdown/time-out/meltdown/time-out/meltdown series, Henry finally calmed down and listened. He stopped hitting/kicking us and through conversation, we came to a place of understanding. That is not an easy place to occupy with a three-year-old boy. To acknowledge that peaceful, rare moment, I allowed Hen to do something that he has been asking to do for quite some time, something that I have never had the patience or confidence in him to allow.

He did my eye makeup.

Giddy/punchy

2 seconds later: disconnect & retreat

He obviously really took advantage of this moment and didn't limit himself to my eyes, but included my forehead, cheeks and chin. I've always felt that eye makeup is underutilized--too fun to be limited to ONE part of your face--and I have such a great appreciation for that fashion-forward avant-garde look, so of course I loved the end result.

Luckily, there are not too many of those exaggerated, emotional discipline "battles", but when they do occur, Mike and I do manage to remember one parenting "must do". We always take time, after the lesson has been learned, to connect in a positive, nurturing way with our independent little boy.  To reassure him of the fact that while we may feel unhappy with some of the choices he makes, we could not possibly love anything more than we love him, his sister, each other--our little family.

Liam and Alice love each other.

My first update from the iPad! At GiGi and Grandpa Mac's house with almost the entire fam. Only Blake is missing but he'll join us shortly for the wedding of the century!!! The bride and groom (seen here holding Alice) seem to be doing quite well with nerves under control. Can not wait to see them take their vows in two short days.

Our Kind of Normal

Conversation over the phone on the way home for lunch:

Molly: I'm sorry I missed your calls earlier, I was busy all morning.
Mike: Well, I'm sorry I missed your calls earlier, we're just coming home from Newville now. ((note: I didn't call him once this morning))
Molly: Where are you right now?
Mike: I'll give you a hint, it's the place where you like to enjoy your white zinfandel.
Molly: **long pause** I don't know where that is.
Mike: The underpass before rt. 641.

Doesn't miss a beat, that husband. Wickedly funny all the time. Love him.

Lavar Burton would be proud...

This past weekend I enjoyed a lovely night at Piatto, drinking fancy Prosecco drinks with my super-hip book club, CARDS (Carlisle Area Reading and Drinking Society).  All of those are things that I love--Carlisle, Reading, Drinking, Societies...Areas...winning. Seriously though, what a perfect way to spend a warm summer evening AND to feel pretty smarty pants (yeah, that's right waiter, I read books...big books...books with words).

This past month, we read "Room" (whoa, wack-titude), coming up, "Jitterbug Perfume". I've read Tom Robbins before and am excited to dive on in. I do wonder if this book will have fewer scrota and graphic sex scenes than the Robbins books I've read before...will keep you updated.

What I didn't realize was that Hen is also a CARDS member. Hmm. Funny he hasn't made any of our meetings. He's getting started on the July book (now I'm really hoping that this is a tame Robbins) and has found his own little "reading spot"

Dang, that kid is good! Wait, is he past the first chapter already?? What the French, Canada?! Way to show me up in the area of "reading". Sorry that I'm busy working, and watching "The Voice". Guess you'll have to give me the skinny on "Jitterbug" an hour before the CARDS meeting. That's what kids are for, right?

Fratting it at the yard sale

This weekend we invited community members to come on by and buy our tacky crap. The front  yard featured $1 and $2 tables filled with all sorts of amazing random stuff, including glittery false eyelashes, some fancy candle holders, picture frames, kitchen stuff, books and two super old school tapestries (one from Mike, one from me, both from college days--classy to the n'th degree). Normal yard sale junque. We saw some business, but, for the most part, the sale was pretty tame. I attribute this, in part, to the fact that I forgot to wear my lucky fanny pack. Dang!! Forgetful! Had folks seen my impressive sales-lady style they might have thought twice about passing on our rad gear.  Fail, Molly.


We did enjoy the company of two of the more ridiculous Dickinson students that I work with (Teddy and Dixon), and one very lovely and fun Dickinson alum (Georgia). As soon as Teddy arrived, before doing anything else, he invited Hen to a game of hide-and-seek. As you can imagine, our three-year-old was positively elated.  Laughing, smiling, occasionally missing the point of the game ("You go count and I will hide here!"), Hen couldn't have asked for a better time.  After a little while, he had exhausted many of the traditional hiding places, but certainly would not allow this to get in the way of his game. Hen thought on his feet and moved on to more creative hiding "situations". Below is the BEST by a long shot. 

Lamp shade hiding place. All he needs is one of those tapestries tied around his neck like a cape and he's living frat-large. So college. Proud moments for parents.  And speaking of parents, I have to go be one right now, so I'll post the highly anticipated series, "Kitty in Funny Hats", at a later time.

Jelly-Man Kitty

Breakfast at the Hamilton this past Saturday and Kitty sat in a high chair this time. She just wants to be part of the action nowadays. Of course, along with this promotion to "table sitter" comes a whole new world of "grab and chew" opportunities. Nothing (within arms reach) of Kitten is safe. We remember this stage well our first go-round with Hen, and had prolonged the inevitable status change to "occupant of the high-chair" for as long as we could.

Here, exploring her new freedoms as a member of the table, Alice reaches for the one thing that we haven't shoved as far from her as possible. The jelly packets. She stretched those chubby little Michelin man arms out for a good five minutes before she started to get really frustrated. We replaced the coveted jellsters with a Baby Mum-Mum after a while, and she accepted the substitution.

I look at these photos, and I think "Man, I can't to embarrass my kid with this someday". I wonder now if my parents had the very same feelings...which would explain a lot, actually.  Hmm.

June 11-June 16: In pictures

 

What better way to start a post than with a yummy, summer mojito!  The only thing "wrong" about this amazingly refreshing summer cocktail is the way that I pronounce it (because sometimes it's just more fun to mispronounce things intentionally...mah-jaih-toe).

Last summer I was all knocked-up and such and due to my "condition", our wonderful, fancy friend, Dave Bender, mixed me my very own "faux-jito".  Tonic, simple syrup, squeeze of lime and sprig of mint and I was like a proud little girl at the grownup table.

 

The post-mojito morning brought a beverage of a different kind. Above you'll find a sweet photo of Albie and I having our morning cup of coffee. While dining out, Al is one of those obnoxious types that tells the waitress, "high test, please!" instead of "regular" and puts her hand OVER the top of her mug when the poor girl tries to "top off" her cuppa joe.  Seriously lady?!  That hot coffee could have burned your hand!  Couldn't you just say "No thank you"?  Noo, you had to be super weird about it.  I don't understand people sometimes. Neither does Alice.

*We gave Alice her own "teensy" mug when she kept trying to wrestle my actual cup of coffee out of my hands. Greedy gussy.

 

Ohh, we haven't seen the last of "Pooey the Builder", here, overseeing her crew (Mike and Hen) as they redo the driveway. "Lay the bricks EXACTLY half an inch apart, guys! I'm not kidding. I'll come over there with my ruler and check your work if I have to."

Ohhh, last but not least...tonight's dessert!  Raspberries from Grandpa Mac & GiGi's garden (picking them is so zen for me) with chocolate & vanilla ice creams. This is a fun little series...

My bowl of ice cream (L) and Hen's bowl of ice cream (R) about two minutes after I'd dished them out.  Notice which dish has already been nearly finished.

Hen arguing that we should "switch ice creams", and forcefully pointing to the dish that I should claim as mine. "You take THIS one, mommy. It is prettier for YOU". I declined and he switched tactics "We should share. That is the nice thing. Will you share with me, please??"

Closeup of my raspberry/chocolate/vanilla delight. Pre-sharing. I did give him a few friendly bites, but saved the raspberries covered in melted chocolate ice cream for mah-self. Yummm.  Nothing gets between this lady and her dessert.

Play a Happy Little Tune

**ERMama & Tammy--not sure if you'll see my response to your comments on the last post, so I'll just bring attention to them here. :)  Thanks for those!!  Comments do make my day.

OK, short post.  Today was my first day back to work after glorious staycation and I decided that I definitely needed a way to "announce" my return...not just once, but every time I entered a room.  Solution: harmonica necklace!!!

A photo of harmonica necklace really wouldn't do it justice, a video seems much more appropriate.

Sarah McAbee, I know you remember buying me this little beaut, and I think you'll be pleased (but not surprised) to learn that this is Hen's most favorite thing in my jewelry box, second only to my engagement and wedding rings, which he is constantly trying to swipe ("You have TWO, you should SHAAAARE").  Tiny harmonica (which has another secret codename) will be with us forever.

Molly vs. Butterick Pattern B5629

Steps to sewing success:

Take a staycation. Go into start of staycation expecting to focus on LARGE list of honey-do projects that have been amounting while incorporating lots of play time, reading time, relaxing time with two adorable children.  Two days into staycation, decide that honey-do list is boring, and that completing to 65% is just as good as completing the whole way.  Shrug off the remaining 35% in favor of a "project". Surf internet for awhile, spend midnight hours on mommy-blogs, wonder why other moms are so awesome. Feel both strong dislike, and great admiration, for these D.I.Y. moms (seriously, they basically have their own sorority...sisters of DIY, we don't think we're better than you...we know we are). Only half-decide on a project, figuring that you can "flesh out the details" at the store.

Arrive at local Jo-Ann Fabrics.  Wander through aisles filled with colorful bolts of fabric. Having been seduced by said fabric (on sale! of course) and with delusions of crafting grandeur, venture into the abyss of the "sewing patterns" section. Go against better judgement to elect an easy project that could be completed over the course of an afternoon (new throw pillows, kitchen curtains...), instead, decide to sew a dress for your daughter.  (The plans said "Very Easy"...so it really can't be that difficult).

Emerge from fabric & pattern section half an hour later, with ridiculously well-behaved children in tow ("Oh, yes, thank you, they're always like this"). Pay for two yards of fabric, two Butterick sewing patterns, fusible interfacing and $15 worth of bonding/elastic/hook-eye closure/bias tape "stuff" that you know nothing about, but that you seem to remember as "important"...maybe...maybe not...who cares, just buy it.

Reward angel-boy with a trip across the mall to the sporting-goods store (or, "The Golf Shop" as it is referred to in our home).  Let him putt on the mini-green for 10 minutes, or until angel-baby wakes up and decides to pitch a fit.  Escort rumply, fussy, once perfectly-behaved children out of store.

Make it to car in just-in-time moment, only to realize that keys are lost.

Back into mall.  Tempting fate.  Search frantically through fabric store with crying baby and close-to-fit preschooler.  Allure of fabric store is lost after purchase has been made, and these other shoppers really seem to know what they're doing.  Feeling regret for such an ambitious project, but no time to revisit.  Keys are missing.  Run across to sporting goods store, smartly avoiding golfing section ("But I neeeed a 5 hyyyyybrid, mommeeeee"), realize five minutes into this crazy-lady search that keys were in front of stroller all along. Sigh of relief. Slap forehead with hand.

Lunch at Issei with Lizzie (best part of the trip!) and then home to piece through the goodies in the Jo-Ann bag.

After wrestling preschooler down for nap-time (unheard of), revisit contents of the shopping excursion with excitement and some uncertainty.  Sense of false confidence--check!  Am convinced that if Butterick says "Very Easy", it should be a walk in the park.  Get started making that "very easy" reversible dress with empire waist, button closure and gathered skirt for Kitty!!

About 2 minutes into instructions, realize that people who sew have their own super-special secret language.  Understitching? Grainline? Easestitch? Out-facing? Ok, that last one is sort of self-explanatory, but in the context of the overall plans it is just as confusing as the rest.  W.T.Elf Butterick Pattern B5629? Very Easy? Very easy for who, exactly? Martha Stewart?!

I managed to cut out pieces for the "bodice" (who uses that word?!) and have decided to just wing it for the rest.  Above is a photo of a cleaned-up version of what my dining room table looked like an hour into the project.

I'm going to preserve my crafting self-esteem and finish two projects that were already on my to-do list.  Sewing a ring-bearer pillow for the upcoming nuptials (SOOO SOOOON!!!  We are giddy with excitement--can you tell?) and a wedding bow-tie for my dapper nephew, Liam.  I'll post photos of those projects once completed and my confidence (or, over-confidence) in my sewing abilities will be restored.  Someday I'll finish that dress, I just hope Alice is still wearing size 12 months when it's complete.

Now, to enjoy the last day of staycation with a trip to visit my sister and Liam in Chambersburg.  A much nicer way to spend the day.