ugh

I'm sitting here watching "So You Think You Can Dance" thinking, hey, put feathers on anyone's ass and they look pretty hot... or like a chicken. Jeanine looks HOT.

Anyway, this week is turning out to be stressful. My adorable JGR is going through a growth spurt (read SCREAMING ALL THE TIME) and pooping blood. Now, don't picture a horrifying diaper dripping with blood, no. Imagine that you had a bloody nose a couple hours ago and just sneezed into a tissue -- now, mixed in all that snot there happens to be some blood.

All freaking week long. Blood in your two-month-old's diaper is not a good thing. It usually indicates an allergy to something, so I went off everything milk last Saturday. Eliminating food after that pretty much takes care of everything in my diet. So I haven't been eating very well. Which isn't helping.

We went to the doctor today and he pretty much said it could be anything, and if she doesn't stop pooping blood in the next couple of days I have to feed her this super stinky hypoallergenic formula (hey, at the affordable price of $140 a 4 pack!) for three days to see if the blood stops. JGR has never had formula and has recently refused the bottle. Joy.

While we were at the doctors they also took three small vials of blood to see if other things are causing the bloody poo. I had Alex take her in for that, because I can't handle watching people make my child bleed.

I was fine until her unconsolable cries made me cry, and I finally had to get back there to see what was going on. (Okay, so I stood at the desk crying until one of the ladies asked me, "Is that your baby back there?") I witnessed a lady bending over my baby SQUEEZING BLOOD OUT of her heel. THREE VIALS WORTH.

Hell, I would have screamed like crazy too. Damn.

So I'm sitting in my basement watching trashy Fox television trying to calm my nerves about possibly having to feed my child formula -- and having to give up breast feeding. I never thought I would love it so much, but there is something so awesome about having the power to calm my baby with my boob. My boob. If I have to give it up I think I will cry for days.

Hey, look, Brandon actually had chemistry with someone (Kayla). It's so weird because he usually lacks it so badly with the ladies, even though he is such a great dancer.

Ugh.

Family Bed

Have you ever heard about the "family bed?" It's basically where you have your baby sleep with you. I have a book that tells you not to waste money on a crib and instead buy a king bed to fit all of you... but they don't talk about how the crib I bought at Ikea was less than $200, and a new king bed would run around $800.

Just a note.

Anyway, the family bed. It's true that JGR sleeps better when she's in our bed... but so does the dog, Stella, and our two cats, Maelstrom and Opal. This means there is any combination of things to get stuck between. Alex says that he usually wakes up with me squished up on one side, Maelly at his head, and Stella at his feet.

What? He's a furnace, and if it's a cool night none of us minds the risk of suffocating him if that means we can warm ourselves. Haven't you ever been part of a family before?

So adding JGR to the mix wasn't that hard, and so far the animals have been pretty good about giving her space. The only thing I have to worry about is if she suffocates on my boob, but there isn't much I can do about that. She prefers to bury her face there for "comfort" or something.

Lately she's been waking up screaming because of gas, but sometimes she sleeps in and I'm able to go and make tea and actually eat breakfast before she wakes up (half the time I forget to eat altogether). And when these times happen, this is what she looks like in the mix of all the covers:

Baby Hat

Alex likes to wear things as hats. He recently added our child to the list.

**by the way, for some strange reason it took me four days to post this- blogger refused to let me post this picture. Blargh.

Hoots*

Just a note to say that Jen was here for our 4th of July party and confirmed that my boobs are HUGE.

HUGE.

She made a face and literally mouthed the word "Wow."

I know, I've told you all over and over again, but even I was amazed to evoke such a reaction from a woman I have known since I was 13.

Also, my sweet husband, Alex, has taken to calling my nursing bra's "Feeding Harnesses."

Nothing says sexy like a feeding harness.

I know, it's so hot.

(*This is one of my favorite words to describe boobs. I learned it from my sister-in-law Sallee, who is a genius at describing things in funny ways.)

Testy-Chickens

Okay, so you know how I was complaining about not getting anything done for myself, like crafting? Well, I took a stand this week and made sure to make some progress on the chickens while JGR was napping.

BEHOLD:

Two, Two TESTY CHICKENS!

I decided to make toys for babies, and put a mishmash of fabrics together. I also forced myself to use fabrics that I love and have been too nervous to cut into. It may sound odd to those of you who are not obsessed with material, but when you like to make things one tends to... hoard it.

I had to make a rule for myself regarding fabric: I am not allowed to buy more of it until I freaking use what I have.

Anyway, chickens. I love chickens. It's a sick obsession of mine.

Behold what it may look like when finished (without, you know, all the pins):

And it would have two legs. And possibly wings and a tail, but I'm still deciding how much time to put into these.

In the next post I'll post photos of the doll I was working on forever ago. I finished her months ago... but coming up with clothes has been a frustrating process. Basically, I'm not very good at it and I have little patience to get there.

My mom is helping to teach me how to make clothes, but until then she will be in some state of nakedness.

Frustration

Have you ever felt like a bottle rocket? All the pressure is building up inside of your head and chest, but there is absolutely nowhere for it to go? And if you could EXPLODE terrible consequences would ensue?

Argh.

After spending another night with my crying/gassy/colicky baby I am beside myself with frustration. Earlier she finally fell asleep on me, and with high hopes of making dinner I put her in her crib. However, three minutes later she was up and crying again... and continued crying until about thirty minutes ago, when I fed her (she screamed the whole time), gave her gas stuff (miracle fluid) and she belched loudly several times -- then she felt better enough to keep eating and fall asleep on my boob.

Transfer to cradle was successful. Thank God.

Anyway, during this fun marathon, Alex and I argued about why she was crying and he left to go for a walk.

Frustrated. You know, I don't make anything anymore. I should have finished those damn chickens for my sister before JGR came because I have no idea when I will be able to sit down again in my sewing room (which is really the office/craft/guest room) and work on my hilarious testi-chickens. Because, I swear to Jesus, they still look like a guys junk, even with beaks.

So. I'm sitting in the dark trying to calm myself down enough to keep reading the new book, "The City and The City," by China Mieville (whom I love freakishly, this being the fifth book of his I've read... and three of those books bordered or surpassed 1,000 pages). It's like an addiction. But I'm currently... shall we say, unable to focus.

Hope all is going well for you (three) readers. I'm going to go curl up in my den and try to read.

Squishy Face

As babies do not have teeth they happen to have very squishy faces. Now, JGR has a very squishy face -- at all times a squishy face, but we mainly call her angry face the "Squishy Face."

For example, in this picture she was not happy about being in her car seat, therefore she displayed her Squishy Face.

I don't know if it's cruel or not, but I will typically laugh at her when she makes this face. The main reason is that while she is upset/frustrated/bored/gassy her face still maintains an element of "Oh, man, that is one cute toothless face."

It's even better now that she's starting to put on the weight. Her cheeks are getting fatter, so now when she pouts it looks like she REALLY means it. Ah, my little turd bucket.

Ah, Heck

This mother thing is hard.  Just when I think I've got the little bugger figured out she goes and changes everything.

For example, last week she would nap for two to three hours solid.  This gave me the opportunity to shower and do laundry, or whatever.  However, this week she only wants to nap if she is on me.  As long as I'm holding her she's willing to sleep, which means I don't relax.  By the time my poor husband gets home I'm so... shall we say "exhausted" that all I want to do is hand her over and eat something.  

Because it's very difficult to eat when you're holding a baby.

Also, that last couple of days, after I've managed to grab time to shower, she cries as soon as I'm out.  So I rush to get her, feed her, and then she spits up between my gargantuan boobs.  Seriously, I cannot emphasize enough how large this things are.  And, now, apparently, they are always covered in milk or spit up.  

All I can say, for all of those who are contemplating having a baby -- think about how dirty that little thing will make you.  It will barf on you, aim its poop at you (I've been hit multiple times), pee on you (she peed on me the other day before we got into the bath tub), and I'm sure there are other substances she's saving for later.  

Sure, she looks all innocent, but in reality she's just waiting for the right moment when my guard is down.  Take right now -- I put her in her crib because she was NAPPING.  Now, I can hear her, she's hanging out.

At least she's doing it quietly.

Ode to a Breastpump

I love my breastpump.  Yes, essentially it is a vacuum that sucks the milk from my boobs, making it a very unromantic thing.  However, it provides me with profound relief when it empties the hefty milkbags that dangle from my chest. 

Holy crap.

It's also helping me stock up on a milk supply so that I can leave my beautiful daughter with a relative while I go watch a movie (or do anything else) with my husband.  That way I can feel un-guilty about enjoying myself when she can still eat.

Lately, when I leave the house, it's like I've started a marathon and I have to race out and race back so that if she starts to fuss because she's hungry she doesn't have to fuss long.  It's strange being the food source for another living being... I'm still getting used to it.  

This whole mom thing is hard and completely unpredictable.  I totally applaud my sister who is doing this with twins and a 5-year-old right now.  She doesn't sleep.  I'm mean enough that when JG starts to fuss a bit in the middle of the night I check to see if she's serious, then say in my head, "Give me another ten minutes of sleep, then I'll change your poopy diaper/feed you."

It's wrong.  I still do it.  I love sleep.  I also love my breastpump.  You try carrying around an extra two pounds or more in your boobs, then maybe you would understand what I'm talking about.

What does?

A lady look like the day after giving birth?

Please note the array of food and drink surrounding me -- I was starving after JGR was born, but of course they wouldn't let me eat for

 quite some time because they didn't want me to be too nauseous.  I think they gave me a poor excuse for a sandwich at first, so the next day I pretty much put whatever was around me in my mouth.  

Very much like a toddler does.

What does a week-old look like in the sweet outfit her dad chose for her?

Sweet giraffe and sweet dinosaur shorts... and yes, these are the "gender neutral" clothes I bought for Brian before JGR came.  To me, gender neutral leans more boy than girl.

And finally, what does JGR look like after pelting her new mother with poo?

If you observe carefully you can see the dark streak in the mesh material and then some on my shorts.  Yes, I removed the diaper and she quite literally blasted me with her poo.  It got all over and I laughed for about ten minutes, unable to re-diaper her because I was shaking so badly with the giggles.  

Babies are sort of gross.

Other than the above events I have been doing practically nothing.  The anemia has limited my activity... it's depressing to think that climbing the stairs is a chore, but the doctor reassured me that in six weeks I should have my strength back, and all of my blood should be back to it's usual reserves after six months.  Awesome.

Okay, I'm going to go nap or eat food now.

Introducing...

JGR!  I would share her name... but something about that creeps me out to share on the big ol' internets.  So, JGR it is for you.  On May 14, 2009, a little baby girl (formerly known as Brian "the fetus"), burst through into the world.  

My water broke around 4:30 AM and we ambled to the hospital around 6 AM.  We had the best nurse at the IMC labor and delivery, Corene, and she helped us get through to the end without an epidural.  I did have some narcotics though, and seriously, the mood lifting ability of

 narcotics is simply amazing.  It made it so I could rest in between contractions and laugh a bit. 

 

Mindy was there to enjoy the fun, along with Alex.  Good times were had.  More later.

Unhappy Pregnant Lady

You know all of those women who swoon over being pregnant?  The kind who enjoy every moment and never want it to end?

I am not one of those pregnant ladies.  Thursday marks my forty weeks and quite frankly I'm done.  I'm ready for the labor portion of this experience.  I'm ready to have my baby and start figuring out how not to kill him -- in other words, learning how to care for the white pasty grub that will be my child.

I'm tired of strangers, friends, and family telling me what I can and can't do.  "Oh!  You're pregnant so you really shouldn't lift that heavy thing" or "Gardening is probably not a good idea."  Um, dudes, I may be immobile, but I am sure as hell not happy about it.  

I am definitely not happy that grass has come up all through my rose garden and garden garden and my body is too awkward to effectively pull any of it.  Normally by this time my fingernails would be caked with dirt and my face would be sunburned from all the time spent focusing on my plants.  I love my plants.  I miss my plants.

So, instead of being in the dirt, I've been making chickens.  I will try to post a picture later.  The do look less like mens genitals... even though Alex still sees the resemblance.  It's one of those things where once you point it out you can never get rid of the picture in your head.  Whoops.

Hopefully my "practice contractions" will soon turn into real ones and I can see what sex Brian is.  Alex is dying to know.  He's also dying for the two weeks off work.

Alright, I'm going to go watch an hour of True Blood on HBO then clean my craft room for Mindy who will be visiting for ten days and sleeping in the midst of all of my material.  Awesome.

hehehe

I'm having a bit of a crappy week. It's connected with my last post... but I felt this comic really emphasized my feeling... and made me laugh out loud. A bit of a warning -- Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal is very funny, but nasty and wrong in all the right ways.

DONE**

**warning, the following post complains about graduate school--read at your own risk**

You know, it's funny.  I thought when I finished my MAT program at Westminster I would be so sorrowful and withdrawn, but after this week I am RELIEVED!  

Don't get me too wrong.  I learned a lot from the majority of the professors I had.  I actually adore most of them as they took the time to teach me and make sure I was understanding the information they were feeding me.  Via enema.

But the class they attached to the very end of the program was completely unnecessary and made me a very grumpy student.  I thought Westminster encouraged their professors to teach students to think for themselves, but apparently not.  Not all of them believe it important for us to have our own personal beliefs or to pursue our own interests.

But, really, it's just one.  And that's all the b****ing I will do about that before digging myself a hole.  

Seriously, I woke up at two in the morning and could not fall back to sleep because I was so angry about this.  You should know, like I stated above, all other professors were pretty awesome and I have zero complaints about them.  

Then I had a dream I was giving birth to an elephant and Alex had those plug earrings... I keep having the strangest birthing dreams.  I guess that just emphasizes that I am two weeks away from my due date.  Now that school is done I'm hoping Brian comes earlier so I can spend more time with him before teaching next year.

Which is me being optimistic, since I don't even have a job set up yet.

Life's Questions

I'm freaking out a little bit.  I have my last Westminster paper to write, a five page behemoth about my "personal journey and development as a teacher from the beginning to the end of the MAT program."  

Um, seriously?  Is it natural for my school to need to know so much about my feelings and such?  This is on top of the journaling and two other papers asking me to talk about how my view of culture has changed, and how I'm so much more of an open minded person now.

I actually talked to a fellow student who sounds like they hate more now.  Hate more now after a year of having our students "funds of knowledge" shoved down our throats.  Bah.

Anyway, this is the last paper I have to write and then I have to put a portfolio together, which isn't difficult since it's all stuff I've completed. 

The problem is... what then?  I don't have a job yet, so I get to worry about what I'll be doing next year.  Last year all the MAT students had jobs lined up, but with the economy the way it is it looks like my cohort will be waiting a bit longer.

Also, once I'm done with this stuff, what then?  I have two weeks until my due date with Brian, and my doctor said yesterday that it's entirely possible that I reach it.  What in god's name do I do for TWO WEEKS!  I have no job.  I am uncomfortable all of the time.  I am trying to sew, but my motivation wavers.

At least the house is clean.  I will try to keep that up.  My best friend Alicia visited over the weekend and Alex and I had to make the house presentable for her -- we had to eliminate many little cat hair tumbleweeds that had started to get aggressive.  

So, now, after today is over... what the hell do I do with my life?  I guess I just continue to gestate Brian?  I have crafty things to finish... I have a couple of chicken bodies that look like men's genitalia.  

Okay, I've got to write that paper now.  Go on with your life.  You're probably doing something so much more productive...

Huh

There are certain pains ones body experiences that are just not okay.  They are especially not okay to talk about in public.

But, oh man, what is with this?  

Along with that I have about a day to complete one of my last assignments for grad school... and I just don't really care any more.  I'm sort of on the verge of making s*** up.  And, yes, I should have had this completed days ago.  

But, I am 37 weeks pregnant and my brain no long works.  Or cares.  I hope it starts up enough again after Brian comes that I can actually function well enough to take care of a baby.

Huh...

tired

The last couple of days have really, sort of, sucked.  I guess I'm experiencing what could be a "false labor."  I feel like I've got menstrual cramps that keep radiating through my legs, belly, and back.  Oh, and my ass.  Everything is sore.  You know how your body feels when you've go the flu?  That's how mine feels right now.

I'm 37 weeks today, so maybe these will go away, or go on for another week, or Brian will arrive soon. 

I guess I should go take a Tylenol.  And a hot shower.  And eat a baked potato covered in cheese and sour cream.  And a coke.

Joy.

My brain...

I did it.  I wrote a research paper.  The final comes out to be 18 pages, but that's with the title page and references and such.  I would share it with you, in PDF or something, but I have no idea of how to link that here.  I'm not sure any of you would really want to read it anyway, but I thought I would offer.

My brain hurts.  And I'm not even done, I still have pieces of my "Question B" to work on.  Will I be finished in time for the deadline tomorrow?  Who knows.

But, let me share with you a moment of quail zen.

Curse of Procrastination

I have an extremely important research paper due on Monday, and a fairly large portfolio.  When did I wait to start writing the paper, even though I've known about it for... months?  

Thursday.

Admittedly, I have been researching.  I found twelve excellent resources that I will be using, and out of those resources I have eight pages of quotes that may or may not make their way into the final paper.  I also have two pages written, another 8-10 pages to go.  

I'm writing on teacher expectations and resistant students (students that range from doing nothing in your classroom to acting out and misbehaving).  Before beginning my research I didn't realize how these two inequalities are completely intertwined with each other.  How the teacher interacts with their students determines how the students behave, and vice versa.

What did I find was the best way to take care of both of these issues?  Teachers need to have high expectations of all of their students, regardless of race or dress or whatever, and that if you can form a healthy trusting community in your classroom you're likely to prod resistant students out of their shells.  

Mutual trust.  Who would have thought?

Anyway, I'm going to spend 4 or 5 hours at my library today trying to finish this paper so I can then give it to Alex's mother to read -- she's a professor at the University of Phoenix.  She will have no problems telling me if it is good or bad.  I need this, especially since the professors I will be handing the end product into are... picky?  

Mind you, they told us we can write this research paper in the "first person" and that they would love for it to be a "reflective piece."  After much deliberation, I'm ignoring these suggestions.  Either you want a research paper, which can be dull but full of facts, or you want me to reflect on my experiences -- which should not have to be written in APA format.  

So there.  

*Warning, breasts and babies will be discussed in the next paragraph*

Oh, one more thing.  I went to the Lactation Station last Thursday and it was WONDERFUL!  I was there for thirty minutes and left with everything I need to start breast feeding, including a book on how to breast feed (seeing as how I've never done it).  The woman who helped me was amazing.  She eyeballed my boobs and gave me some nursing bras to try on -- bras with extra space for now so that after Brian comes they will fit perfectly.  What size are the bra's?  34 F (or DDD).  

I know, I was quite impressed myself.  But the best part was having someone there who knew what she was talking about and was able to give me great advice.  I've been all over the valley trying to find nursing bras -- and nobody carries them.  Okay, except for "Motherhood" but they were flimsy and the sales staff irritated me.  AND the changing rooms are just curtains, which is apparently too tempting for the small children who infect the place and like to peek in to "see what's there."  

Anyway, I have bras that fit now, along with some needed extras.  *Thanks mom!*

Now I have to go eat a huge breakfast so I can spend hours at the library and not feel famished. 

Oh, and I have six weeks left until Brian's due date...  Holy sh**

All's Fine

I love the doctor who does the ultrasounds at my clinic.  She is wonderful.

Well, Brian weighs in at 4 lbs. and 3 oz. and is in the 44th percentile -- basically, my fetus is exactly where he needs to be.  His environment is safe; the amniotic fluid is at a healthy 14 oz and the placenta hasn't matured (which happens sometimes, it prevents the fetus from getting all the nutrients it needs).  

Dr. Anne also said that smaller women, like me, tend to carry the baby towards the back and that me measuring small doesn't mean too much.  She also said some women never measure anywhere near the 40 cm doctors expect to see as you near your due date.

Whew.  I feel so relieved to know that Brian is getting what he needs.  The due date has moved up one day, to May 14th, which is my grandma's birthday.  It would be really awesome if he could be born on that day.

Okay, I'm rambling.  

Alex and I did get to see some 3D scans of Brian's little face.  He's got little chubby cheeks, but was effectively hiding most of his face behind his hands.  We also resisted asking about the sex again.  We saw some... stuff, but I wouldn't say I'm qualified to actually say what any of it was.

Alright, I guess I better get around to start researching for my 10-12 page paper for my MAT program... that I've been procrastinating for quite some time...  even though I'd rather do so many other things...

As Promised

For those of you who live far away (Mindy) this is what I look like -- at least this was me a week ago on a walk with Stella.  Doesn't she look so happy?  

Now, I'm sure you want more of a "detailed" photo... but just think of how long it took me to post this one.

Other than walking the dog I've started being a student again, one who is unwilling to start writing the papers I'm supposed to be writing.  That's right, I'd rather be watching petty TV than researching inequity in schools.  Blah.

We also made a trip to Ikea (weird how a four letter word has three syllables) for baby stuff.  Alex spent the weekend putting furniture together.  His parents were worried that it would be horrid for him, but they don't realize that he LOVES building and putting things together.  Yes, it takes hours, and he loves it.  All that remains to be built is the crib.  Here is what we have so far:

The bee has wheels and can be ridden on.  Yes, it is meant for three year olds, but Alex and I couldn't leave the store without it.  So, now we have some baby furniture, a bee, and a giant dragon kite for Brian's room.  We are so prepared.

29 Today

Happy birthday to me!  I get to spend my day at a teacher's job fair and finishing writing up my lesson plans for the unit I taught at my junior high!  Oh, and that should be followed up with shrimp scampi and cake.  

It's all about the cake.

It's nice not having to worry about teaching right now, but I must say that my brain -- which was fully occupied with teaching before -- has once again become soft.  It allows me to reflect on the easier and nicer things in life, such as movies.  For the first time since... December(?) Alex and I went and saw a movie, The Watchmen.  I didn't have very high expectations of it, but I really enjoyed it.  A bit of a warning though, the blue guy is naked through a good deal of the movie.  It bothered Alex, but I barely noticed it.  I guess I figure a penis is a penis, naked and bright blue or not.

This week has started off on a bit of a poopy note.  I went for my prenatal visit yesterday and my doctor (who, you should know, I think is awesome) told me I'm not measuring "big enough" and I haven't been gaining "enough weight."  I am 31 weeks pregnant and should be measuring around 31 centimeters from pubis to fundus (the top of the uterus), but I'm only measuring 28 centimeters.  I started my pregnancy at 110 lbs and am currently 128 lbs -- which is the same as it was four weeks ago.  So, she wants me to go in for an ultrasound to make sure Brian (the fetus) is growing the way he's supposed to.

Is it strange that I kind of hate going in for ultrasounds?  They have this negative connotation for me (I had four at the very beginning of this pregnancy, and one very bad one last year).  

However, Brian's heartbeat is strong and he moves around like a freakish squid.  Seriously.  Oh, and he's had hiccups all morning, that's been a joy.

As far as pictures of the belly goes -- you see, I look "cute" (read dressed) for about ten minutes after getting home, and then my cute clothes come off to be replaced with comfortable clothes that don't restrict my movements (waddly though they may be).  So, I have good intentions, I just haven't stayed "dressed" long enough to do it.  Soon, though, soon.

One. More. Day.

Today is my last day of Junior High. I have spent ten weeks waking up at 5:30 AM and teaching/managing/wrangling 14-15 year-old ninth graders.

I feel a combination of relieved and anxious? Weird, isn't it. I get a few days off and then I have to start really applying for jobs in an economy that sounds like a drowning victim. Joy.

I think I might try to make it out of the house and see a movie this weekend, I think ending student teaching should free up enough brain space to make that fun.

Oh, and I'm turning 29 next week. I can't wait for the cake.

Insert Evil Laugh Here...

I'm done! I'm done! I'm done!

Not that the last six weeks haven't been an enriching experience. I mean, standing in somebody else's classroom, teaching their students, trying to continue teaching the lessons they would prefer me to do -- all of those things helped make this a memorable and valuable experience. I do have to say that the fact my mentor is NOT looking forward to having her classes back does make me smile. She observed one of the easier classes earlier this week and then jumped all over me for my lack of control over them.

(In the students defense, they're not usually that bad, but I am far more lenient on them then I am other class periods because the class doesn't have nearly as many students as other periods... whatever.)

I wanted to tell her that the way she controls her classes -- through condescending comments and somewhat manipulative language -- makes a lot of her students hate her. The A students love her, and she loves them, but she can be mean to those that don't fit into her definition of what is "the right kind of student."

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I love the weird kids who may or may not be failing. I was a weird kid, so I guess there's some sort of camaraderie there.

Sorry, I don't mean to vent. I'm just so excited to put an end to this strange charade they call student teaching. Now I get to start on looking for a job and interviewing with school districts.

I don't want to. I'm tired and I want to spend a full week watching old episodes of Angel. I love you Joss Whedon.

Hopefully, getting all of my brain power back will help me focus more on the fetus (Brian) that has made me large and wobbly. I'm running out of clothes to wear to school, and I'm looking forward to not having to worry about what bra I wear. I think I may just start leaving those evil things at home... if my boobs can handle the freedom.

I measured my belly around its largest part last night -- 37 inches. Yup. I'm hungry all of the time, I eat all of the time, and I think most of it is going to Brian, who should be about 3 pounds now.

Okay, I'm done. Go back to your daily routine. I have to write a resume now... that's two days late...

The light...

Four more days of teaching! Two more weeks at my Jr. High! I can see the light at the end of the freaking tunnel!

Okay, that's enough with the exclamation points... I sort of hate those things.

I haven't updated in a while, mainly because I've got pregnant brain AND I'm student teaching -- which doesn't make for a good mix. Brian is fine, he's just kicking away and keeping me up at night. The cats still like to sleep on him. Although, I think Opal gets confused and upset when she tries to lie on my belly and he kicks her. It's like she can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt her so.

My husband is awesome and finally finished our basement. What was covered in 60's orange carpet and unfinished walls has turned into one of the most comfortable area's in the house. It got new commercial nylon carpet (come on, with three animals and a baby, we had to go with the hardy stuff), and Alex finished mudding/sanding/building the walls. And then it all got painted -- well, except for our awesome wood paneling. I know that confuses some, but it has a nice warm glow and it really has grown on us over the last four years. So it stays.

I spent my weekend sending more old crap to the D.I. That makes two trips in the last three weeks. Two trips where the CRV was stuffed full of old stuff that hopefully somebody else wants. I find it very creepy to go through old things and realize that all the reasons for keeping it are stupid, and that I really just have to let it go. I had four pairs of my dad's Levi's I didn't want to let go of -- I never wore them, I just wanted to keep them. I finally had to tell myself that he would be so PLEASED to know I got rid of them, he really doesn't like it when I wear his old pants... not like they'd fit now anyway.

Okay, I will try to post a picture of my roundness soon. I keep meaning to, but once again, I will blame student teaching and my pregnant brain.

TWO WEEKS!

Back from the BRAIN DEAD

I am five weeks into student teaching -- only FIVE more to go!  Oh my god I can barely contain myself.  You may be wondering why it's been so long since you've heard from me... well, you see, when you spend all day with 14 year olds (who my adviser says are "all assholes at this age") when you get home, you're brain is literally DEAD.  

I get home around four or so and just sit for two hours.  I can't think about anything, I can't talk about anything.  I have friends and family that I haven't called because, quite frankly, I don't have the attention span for a conversation.  I do think about it (Jen, Min), but then I decide to turn the TV on and see if I have anything on the DVR.  Something that won't bother to teach me anything, or make me think.  

I think I've got another three weeks to go until I'm done teaching, then I need to start phasing my mentor teacher back into the class room.  Some students asked me when this will happen and then groaned when I told them -- they like me better... Alex tells me they're just "kissing ass" and probably don't care that much.  Who knows.

Okay, so, doll hair.  This is what I did on one of the experimental heads:

I used felt.  She has bangs now too, but to post that here would require me to take more photo's, and (quite frankly) that's just not going to happen right now.  

You know all those doll parts I've been showing you for MONTHS?  Well, I finally put her together, but she's naked and I'm working on some clothes for her now.  Maybe you'll see the results in a few weeks.  Who knows.  I'm pretty pleased with it though.  

You see, I have accomplished something.  It just has nothing to do with my masters degree or student teaching... Hmm.

  

Stress Relief

You know, in my non-pregnant days, when I was stressed I would sit back and drink a beer... or two.  But now, because I am forced to take into consideration my 24-week-old fetus I can't partake of the sweet brewed nectar.  Instead I eat a candy bar or imbibe a BigGulp.  

Unfortunately, although these are delicious things, they do not relieve me of my overwhelming stress and anxiety.  I'm teaching tomorrow and I'm trying to write up next weeks lesson plans and I am going to EXPLODE.  I can feel that I'm on the edge of a full blown anxiety attack, and I don't really know what to do about it.

I know, you're saying, "Get back to work, yo.  Finish your lesson plans and get it over with."

Well, yeah.  Duh.  However, my mentor teacher threw me some curve balls this last week, like how she thinks it's important that I include grammar lessons.  Yes, I am going to be an English teacher, but I HATE grammar.  My mother-in-law tried explaining some grammar foundations to me yesterday and I just stared at her in blank horror.  I had to tell her twice that I had no idea what she had just said.  Something with the phrase "nominative predicate," whatever that is.

Ugh.  So, I would really love to have a beer right now, but for Brian I won't.  He does love the candy bar's and BigGulp's, he kicks/punches/moves like squid after I pig out.  Poor kid, I'm probably setting him up to be an obese child.  I've been watching too many programs on TLC titled "Half-Ton Teen."  Believe me, any program dealing with really fat people, Alex and I record it and watch it... invariably when we're eating dinner in front of the TV.  

Puh.  Okay, back to trying to be optimistic with my week.  Have a good day, if you can.

I am Sick

Booger. I don't get sick very often (other than the three months spent with that AWESOME morning sickness). So, when I do I kind of turn into this whiney mess of a person who can't quite comprehend what's going on.

How did I get sick? What is this aching feeling in my legs? Why on EARTH do my ears feel like bees live in there, and my throat like cavern of burning spikes? Damnit.

I can only attribute this to how long and exhausting my first week of student teaching was. I came home Monday night and took a two hour nap. A nap that, unfortunately, did not satiate my need for sleep. I didn't really sleep through the whole night until Thursday, so I was sort of discombobulated and confused any time I was not in the Jr. High. Somehow, my brain managed to keep my senses in fantastic shape whilst working, then I would come home and go utterly brainless.

Friday night Alex and I watched Princess Mononoke. What a great movie. Then I think we were both in bed and asleep before ten. Remember the days of staying up until 2 AM because, why not? What else is on TV? Now I'm so tired I fall asleep on the couch before nine o'clock rolls around.

So, I'm sure due to my exhausting week, I'm sick with what could turn into laryngitis. Which is what happens to my voice when I get this kind of sick. It's not really conducive to teaching, but I'm only observing this next week. I did teach four or so classes last week... and they do have a microphone ...

Booger. I hate being sick. Any other student teachers finding yourselves in the same predicament?

HEADS!

When it comes to creating something, I deliberate like crazy.  I finished making more heads for the doll clear back in November, but then I had to figure out how to do the faces.  Paint?  Draw?  Leave blank?  Make silly/ugly?  Finally, after drawing one face (which I really wasn't crazy about) I decided to tackle embroidery, just to see if it looked right.  Amazingly enough it did, so this is what I did over Christmas break:

You can see the drawn face in front -- doesn't it look too "sweet?"  Yuck.  Then my first embroidered face is in the back with the blue eyes. It turned out so nicely that I moved on to practice on the face on the left, with the strange yellow eyebrows. 

Hey, I only had crochet string to work with at that point, so I didn't have many color choices.

What did I learn from that one?  Well, pink is a far too light of color to try to make a face with-- it looks sort of too "I lack pigment in my skin, therefore you can barely see my features."  Her mouth is funny too, but for practice sake it's not horrible.  

Finally, the head I will actually be using for the doll is on the right.  I really like how it's turning out... except now it needs a mouth and I'm not sure how to tackle it.  I should just bite the bullet and do it.  Booger.

Next post will be on hair for the head.  The one I've done has turned out pretty nicely, so that makes me happy.  Joy.

Snow Walkin'

My husband, Alex, likes to make me go walking.  He insists that it helps to keep me "fit" and is good for "Brian."  I generally go along with this, as it gives us time to talk, and gives us the added bonus of helping our dog, Stella, be less of a freak at home.

She's the kind of dog who will stare at you, paw at you, wet-nose you, until you finally throw up your hands and say, "Fine!  I will take you on a walk!"

We do torture her by making her wear sweaters, which she despises.  However, on this particular day it was somewhere around 20 degrees, and since she's practically furless we didn't give her much of a choice.  HA!  If you make the photo bigger you will see it's a chicken sweater that Alex made.  He is quite talented at the sewing machine.

Next post will be about DOLL HEADS!  Oh the gore!

Ugh

I start my ten weeks of student teaching tomorrow. I won't actually start "teaching" for another two weeks or so, but I am so nervous about going in. I've never observed my new mentor, Mrs. G, so I guess I'm unsure of what to expect.

I know I should go to bed right now to wake up at 5:30 AM or so, but I don't think I can sleep. Booger. But, anyway, Jen tagged me a while back to "post the fourth picture in your fourth file."

Drum roll please, here it is: The two banana (or whatever) slugs we found in our tomato's last year. Little bastards.

Hello

Have you ever had one of those days where you just feel large? Like a bass that ate too much and somehow managed to flip yourself out of your favorite spot in the river, and now lie on the river bank unsuccessfully gulping for air?

I sort of feel like that today. Large and tired. I'm sure being 20 weeks pregnant doesn't help anything either. I need better pants that let it all hang out -- my current pants kind of hold me in. Makes it a tad difficult to breath. Or overeat.

Anyway, more doll updates soon. I finally have a head that works, and I'm experimenting with embroidering the face. It has worked pretty well on two of the heads that didn't work for the doll -- so they're kind of this decapitated doll head with a bit of a cheery/smirking face. They don't understand that they're missing bodies. Silly stupid doll heads.

More later.

Later.

Goodbyes

My grandmother's funeral was last Thursday, and I was given the opportunity to speak.  Here is my goodbye letter:

Dear Grandma,

I have learned so many things from you throughout my life. When I was little you had patience enough to teach me to crochet, and since then I’ve used the skill to make blankets, toys and doll clothes. I love telling people my grandma taught me, and have to apologize when they ask me to teach them, because I don’t have your patience to sit and show them how. Yet, from watching your example I have always tried to be patient when it’s truly needed. I listen to friends and family with patience, I love with patience, and I learn with patience.

You have always been there for me, with kindness and love in your heart. I could visit you from a long week at university and immediately fall asleep on your couch, because I knew I could lay my burden down. Being in your presence has always allowed me to relax, to shed whatever worries drowning me. All I would need is a look from you to know that everything would be all right. You posses this overwhelming power of understanding, so easily expressed in your eyes, a hug, a touch from your hand. It’s like standing in sunshine.

You faced many challenges and tragedies, but you had sense enough not let them drag you down and own you. Whenever I face something emotionally difficult I think of your strength. If you could live 89 years with joy and forgiveness, I can follow your example and do my best to love and accept all people, and to strongly bear any burden life or God throws my way.
You also taught me your biting sense of humor. It’s always best to laugh when things are hard, or when they’re easy, or to laugh always. The only thing that really matters is to look good while doing it. I still struggle with it today, but having observed your style and the pride you put into your appearance, I dress to impress you.

Thank you so much for supporting me and being my best friend. I don’t want to say goodbye, because I know you will be near in spirit. You will be with me, locked safely in my heart and in my memories. As promised, my children will learn of you and you, and we will continue to celebrate your life and all you have taught me. I will treasure you all my life.

Grandma

Genevieve Hegsted Twitchell Wayment

OGDEN –Genevieve (Gen) Hegsted Wayment born May 14, 1919 in Joseph, Oregon, died at her home in Ogden with her husband and family at her side November 28, 2008.

As a little girl Gen moved with her prospector father and family from Joseph, to Lewiston, Idaho to Quincy, California then to Ogden which she loved.

Gen was married to Ernest Twitchell from 1936 to his death in 1968 and was married to Rollo Wayment from 1983 till her death, two wonderful marriages in one beautiful lifetime.

Except for some colorful years living in a sheep camp or on railroad sections in Lucin and Lakeside Utah, her married years were spent in the same lovely and charming Ogden neighborhood.

Friend, Wife, Sister, Mom, Aunt and Grandma, Gen was a poem of womanhood, old school tough as nails and loving, tender and spiritual in all her thoughts, ways and actions.

Gen, one of our best examples of the greatest generation, forged in the great depression, case hardened by conditions we cannot imagine, lived her life in every measure at a level above and beyond our common understanding of duty and devotion, whether caring for members of a large extended family, tending a dying aunt or brother, donating to the needy, or thrilling at the site of a quail in the front yard.

Gen worked in canning factories, in several of Ogden’s stores, in the hospital as a nurse’s aid, and at HAFB from which she retired in 1985.

Consider yourself fortunate if you knew Gen, or someone like her, because they enrich your life.

Preceding Gen in her death are her first husband Ernest Twitchell, a great-grandson, Cort Elliott and her brothers and sisters Marie, Kenneth, Josephine, Neilsena, Keith, Carl and Melvin.

Surviving are Gen’s husband Rollo Wayment, sister Lorraine Garcia, daughter Tamara Twitchell and her daughters Amber and Tiffany, son Roger Twitchell and his wife Kara, their daughters Marty Elliott and husband Chris, and Carley Reynolds and husband Alex. Marty is the mother of Gen’s great grandson Wyatt (4yrs old) and is pregnant with Gen’s great-grand twins; Carley is pregnant with Gen’s next great-grandchild and by late spring Gen will have four great-grandchildren on the Twitchell side. Rollo is blessed to have five surviving children who have also been Gen’s children for the past 25 years, Steve Wayment and his wife Noreen, Dave Wayment and his wife Jillene, Bryan Wayment and his wife Linda, Lynnette and her husband Sheldon Harris and Craig Wayment. Rollo’s children are blessed with many children, grand children and great grandchildren.

Funeral services will be held Thursday, December 4, 2008 at 11:00 a.m. at Myers Mortuary, 845 Washington Blvd. in Ogden. Friends may call at Myers Mortuary on Wednesday, December 3rd from 6 to 8 p.m. and on Thursday from 10 to 10:45 a.m.

In lieu of flowers please donate to the Humane Society, 4242 South 300 West Murray, UT 84107, www.utahhumane.org. Adopt a pet, or feed the birds this winter.

Internment, Ogden City Cemetery.

Tagged, yo

Mindy tagged me for this one word thing, but I'm a bit of a rambler so we'll see just how well I do with that.

Where is your cell phone: desk

Where is your significant other: Work

Your hair color: Blonde

Your mother: caring

Your father: musical

Your favorite thing: Brian/fetus

Your dream last night: strange

Your goal: teach

The room you're in: office/pinball/sewing room

Your hobby: procrastination

Your fear: failure

Where do you want to be in 6 years: teaching

Where were you last night: couch

What you're not: tan

One of your wish list items: life

Where you grew up: Utah/California/Nevada/Idaho

Last thing you ate: chai

What are you wearing: pajamas

Your TV: big

Your pet: sleeping

Your computer: black

Your mood: relaxed

Missing someone: yes

Your car: Jetta

Something you're not wearing: socks

Favorite store: Night Flight

Your summer: fast

Love someone: duh

Favorite color: all

When was the last time you laughed: an hour or so ago

When was the last time you cried: Friday

And TAG: Lianna, Starlynn, & Jessica

Pregnancy: 15 1/2 weeks and counting...

So I woke up at three AM last night and couldn't fall back to sleep.  I originally woke up because the warning bells of "if you don't pee now you'll poison yourself" went off, and when I laid back down I realized I was starving.  STARVING!  At freaking three in the morning.  I tried to just fall back to sleep, mainly because I've never been one of those who can get out of bed and make herself a sandwich...

But I noticed that my cat, Mael, was shivering on my pillow.  I stared at him for about twenty minutes, his giant gold eyes staring back.  Shivering.  My dog kept sticking her head out of the covers and looking at me, so I took her outside so she could pee.  Got back in bed and was so hungry (like starvin' Marvin) that I had to go to the fridge and eat two fat green olives.  I inhaled them.  And, yes, they are a large part of my diet -- the green italian olive stuffed with various whatnot allows me to curb a weird salty craving I've been having.  

I bought the big jars at Costco last week, and one of them is almost gone.  

My favorite part of the olive is that after I eat a few I want a cookie, or something sweet.  Then when I burp it tastes like vanilla ice cream.  It's sort of creepy.  Yet delicious.

The most annoying thing about being pregnant, thus far, is that anything can give me gas.  Something as innocent as water can make me burp for twenty minutes.  Or worse, but I'm sure you don't want to hear about that.  

At least the morning sickness is mainly gone -- after this next week it's supposed to be absolutely gone, but who knows.  Out of all the pregnant women I know mine has been the worst.  This is most telling when they say, "What, you actually puked?"  Yes, and there were some days when I would puke twice.  Thank god for nausea medication -- I only lost four pounds due to being sick.  It was much worse last time, but maybe more on that next time.  But at my last doctor's appointment I had gained five pounds -- so overall I'm up one pound.  Woo-hoo pregnancy weight.

One more thing, we watched I am Legend last night.  I really liked it, which surprised me.  But, how can you not like Will Smith?  Come on.  He's attractive AND talented.

Laziness

When I'm not in the "fragile state" of being pregnant I'm pretty good at organizing my thoughts and getting things done.  With Brian, I'm altogether a moron.  I know there are things I should be accomplishing (oh, I don't know, homework, cleaning, finishing that freaking doll) but instead I lay on the couch in my basement and watch TV.  Evil TV.  I know that as soon as I turn that damned thing on I'm stuck, but I still manage to sneak down there on a daily basis and come up with same lame excuse that lets me turn it on.

"Look, I'll only watch Weird Science and then I'll turn it off and start writing my English method papers."

The movie ends (which is more sexist, racist, and awful than I had remembered it... that John Hughes was messed up... also there was a strange mix of homoeroticism, with the young boy characters sitting around without their shirts on, and wearing women's underpants) and then I thought, I can watch the last thirty minutes of this mummy movie on SciFi, this could be interesting.  NO!  IT'S NOT!  

To say the least I never got around to starting my assignments last night.  Even now, as I type this post, I know I am procrastinating.  I would like to think that I'm burned out.  There are only three or so weeks left of school, and I'm kind of done.  But, mainly, it's this laziness that has kindly draped itself over my eyes and made me apathetic.  

Oh, I also took two PRAXIS exams over the weekend.  This is the test that lets you have your teaching endorsement in a certain area, like English and Biology.  I didn't study.  I spent 10 of the last 14 weeks being incapable of thinking or eating (due to Brian), and never took the time to study.

Bleh.  Are you sick of listening to me yet?  I am...  Okay, I've go to read about how to help teens read and write, then write two 2-page papers on it.  I don't want to go to class today.  But that's my fault, not Brian's (though I will continue to point the finger at him... it's easier that way.)

Fun with Fetus'

This image was created by Dylan Meconis.  This is definitely how I feel about Brian -- I mean, it's great having a fetus.  I'm at 12 weeks now, so the morning sickness (which is more of a nightly thing lately) is supposed to start becoming less of a problem.  

Last night Halloween was a bit of bust.  We had 7 trick-or-treaters.  Oh, you heard right, 7.  Last year we had something like 60.  We figure the trunk-or-treat going on at the church up the street killed the fun for the night.  We even dressed up!  We forgot to take pictures, but I was a skeleton zombie and Alex was creeping death.  I mean, we had masks and everything, and freaking Utah parents decided to kill Halloween by carting their fat kids from trunk to trunk in a parking lot.  Halloween is about WALKING house to house and asking strangers for candy!  It's kind of scary!  But mostly it's fun!  But, oh no, parents around here....  I'm so mad about it.  I bought 10 lbs of candy to give out, and now I'll have to take half of it back to Costco today to return it.  Boo!  Alex and I decided our kids will definitely go out for candy, and they can eat it until their sick.  Because that's what Halloween is about.

Plus, you see, I grew up in tiny Rigby, Idaho.  There were many Halloweens where we would trek through the SNOW, our costumes mostly obliterated by warm coats and shoes, to get candy. Now, If I had fun trick-or-treating in 20-30 degree weather, other kids would have loved last night when it was 70 degrees and warm.  Utah parents are such weenies.  

Boobs

My. Boobs. Are. Huge.  But, I don't want to wear bras... which seems kind of illogical, right?  I just feel like the bra straps them in and makes them more sore and uncomfortable than they were before.  It's like trying to contain two small watermelons in small plastic cups.  The melons can't be contained!  They must roam free!  But then there are other issues with going braless in public with such "hooters," but I won't go into detail because I can only imagine who I would make uncomfortable.  Basically, before pregnancy my boobs were sweet kittens, content to stay out of sight and out of mind.  But, now, they prefer the spotlight and will do practically anything to gain it.

Therefore, I wear very thick and oversized sweaters.

Ugh

I have grown increasingly lazy, tired, and a bit grumpy.  I think about doing stuff, but then feel overwhelmed by what has to go into the stuff to get it done.  Hey, I was really pleased with myself this last Saturday when I finally laundered my whites... clean socks!

I do have a ton of homework I should be doing/reading.  Yet, I put that off until the last minute because I don't understand it until three hours before it's due.  I'm a grad student, a very sad, pathetic grad student.  I went to observe in a Jr. High on Friday, that was fun.  It's a little weird, because some of the kids (8th grade, I think) didn't understand that writing a letter is not the same as texting a friend.  You really cant write, "hey u i like ppl & go to ur scool."  I had to remind several that it's a good idea to write out your words when writing a letter to the principal about cell phones.

I nap all the time.  I don't have a job anymore so it's really easy to make excuses as to why I can put off homework until later.  I have a bunch of stuff due today, and I've only kind of sort of started on it.  

I do have a relatively good excuse though... I'm nine weeks pregnant.  I'm sick most of the time and my attention span can't make it through an episode of The Office.  I'm hungry, but I don't actually want to eat anything.  My favorite thing right now?  Hot water with half a lemon and a spoonful of sugar.  And licorice nibs.  Cereal is okay, but for some reason I puked that up last night.  Booger.

Okay, back to my lesson plan.  Have a good day.

No progress

I have made no progress on the doll.  The head I originally made is too small, and trying to come up with new one has been stalled because my hands ache and I haven't been able to pull my head out of this book: Bone,

It's very enthralling.  I've been trying to make myself pause long enough to get homework done, you know, for that masters degree I'm pursuing... But, when you're only 300 pages (because it's a 1,300 page behemoth) from the end, it's really hard to stop reading.  And I have two projects due soon.  Hmm, oh well.  

I have been making hats.  The first one is a pattern I made up in a moment of sweet clarity, and one that Alex said, "Are you really going to wear that out of the house?"  The answer is yes, as some of you may have already seen it.  Okay.  There's your update.

Watch this

You may or may not have ever heard of Chris Ware, an artist who created Jimmy Corrigan: Smartest Kid in the World (which is a fantastic and appallingly brilliant graphic novel). Well, whilst trying to find out more about Chris Ware I found this cartoon he animated for This American Life.

It's about kids, a playground, and the video cameras they made. It's slightly disturbing. I strongly recommend you click here which will take you to the video so you can watch it... because, I am not tech-savvy enough to put it here for you...

Dude.

POST UPDATED -- Click HERE for the link to the video

Disturbing Head

I tried messing with the head tonight, to see if I could get it to work the way I wanted it to.  I had thought I made it too small for the body... and I really did.  I figured I should needle sculpt it anyway, get some more experience making a face look like a face.  I drew on it with the awesome blue marker... but it looks so skewed and funky, not to mention too long in the wrong direction.  It's not wide enough either.  I'm in between being irritated with it, and accepting of the fact that the first head pattern I designed simply didn't work out.  It's okay, really.  So, now I'll probably have a doll head laying around until I make a better body for it later.  It's even funnier looking on the body, but that will be the next post since blogger doesn't seem to want to work with me tonight.  Poop.

Doll Arms, Doll Legs

On the right is the muslin as it originally came out of its tea-bath, and on the left is the arm turned right-side-out. It's three (?) shades lighter turned out, and I first I wasn't sure if I liked it -- but with everything stuffed it really doesn't look that bad.

The torso, arms, and legs all turned out fabulously. It's one of the first times I've designed a pattern and had it turn out the way I wanted it to. The torso shoulders are a bit pointy, but they may work out just fine once I've got the arms attached.


I sewed the knees for "joints." I was going to do it on the sewing machine -- yet that is somehow too complicated for my head to understand... So I sewed them by hand. I know, it takes longer but I had total control of where the stitches went.

I plan on tying the elbows by wrapping a string or something around them to create a joint. I'm not quite sure how it will look. But I didn't want to stitch the joint there too. It just seemed like too much.

The head pattern could use some work. It came out a bit too flat, so the face looks long and thin. It looks fine on the doll, but I'm going to take some time this next week and make a few head patterns, make them, and see what works out better. I think the nose worked out well. I want really big noses on my dolls, it just feels like it gives them more personality. I kind of have a big nose, so I definitely have an affinity to pass that bit on to the stuff I make. That just sounds strange.

Hopefully I'll have this put together by the end of the week. It may take longer since I want to try out different heads... Who knows, you'll just have to check back, yo.

Questions

Part of me really wants to hang this in my future classroom, the other part tells me that would be a very stupid thing to do. I'm torn. What do you think? Would high schoolers find this funny or offensive? And how much time should I spend caring about their "feelings"?

Progress: Warning Detailed crafting info follows...

Progress made! I've never used one of those markers that you can wash away with water, but it was awesome. I prefer to trace patterns directly onto the material I'm using (usually muslin) so that as I'm sewing I can follow it exactly. Otherwise I'm all over the place and it doesn't look the way I want it to.

In the past I've used color pencils or regular pencils, which (of course) always left anger-inducing stains on the fabric -- which is part of the reason I usually paint it after it's stuffed.
This time, I just ran the pieces under water and the blue line disappeared! I'm such a moron for not using it earlier, as many of crafters I follow use it. I'm just a slow learner.

After rinsing the blue marker away I deliberated on what to do about the color. Plain muslin is great to work with, but makes for a pasty sad-looking doll. Believe me, I have one, and it makes me gag with disgust everytime I look at it. I had tea-dyed an earlier tiny doll I did with chai. It made it smell really good, and the color turned out great. I used it on a larger doll too (which I'll try to post photo's of later) but ended up painting it ... long story. I'm sure it's too boring to tell you about now.



Anyway, I went the tea route again. I used 3 English tea bags and soaked the pieces in it all day. Now they're hanging up in my bathroom to dry. I'll iron them tomorrow to try to lock in the tea "stain" and then I'll stuff it all. I'm thinking I should have those photo's up later this week. And maybe my post will be more interesting then...

Slowly, maybe surely

I have been wanting to make my own doll pattern for quite a while. I doodled something (because I don't draw, not well anyway) in class a couple months ago that I really liked and figured I would go after it.

I drew up the body, messed around with my sweet new compass, and then hesitated on the rest of it for a long time (read months). This is the head to the left. I literally had to talk myself into cutting the pieces apart today because I really like the design and didn't want to mess with it. Which sounds really silly, since I have to cut it up in order to use it. You may ask why I just don't trace it onto the fabric... well, my brain doesn't quite work that way. I like to put the pattern pieces on the fabric and use a pencil to trace them on -- from the thick edges of the pattern. Because I HATE tissue paper patterns.

I always feel like I can never use them again, and then what is the flippin point?

Anyway, I told Alex to tell me to get over my strange phobia and cut the head pattern already. So, I did. You can see the pieces here. It's going to be a relatively simple doll, and I'm thinking
the chicken fabric (behind the pattern) for the legs. I bought this forever ago because I thought it was hilarious (hello, chickens saying "bonjour") and haven't been able to cut it. Because I'm obsessive and neurotic. But, I know for a fact that other fabric hoarders do the same thing. You can love a fabric so much that you never bring yourself to actually use it. It's sad, but true.

Anyway, I hope to get started in earnest on this in the next week. I will get some more photos' up to show progress, so if you don't see any in the next few days -- please PLEASE nag me about it. I need that.

She so totally captured it...

Dylan Meconis is a cartoonist/artist that I've been following (read blog-stalking) for a little while. She posted about how seriously a trip can get messed up and posted the following toon:Click on it to make it bigger (or this).


This also captures the way I felt when Alex and I missed our flight home from Oregon. So ANGRY! Plus, the Delta "customer service" lady didn't help at all. She repeated several times that they had overbooked and oversold every flight, so we couldn't wait stand-by for any flight home. They could, however, put us on the plane leaving the next morning if we were willing to shell out $1200 -- seeing as how they would have to charge us $100 for transferring our original tickets to a new flight, and $550 each to upgrade our seats to first class. As those were the ONLY seats available on the freaking plane.

Lianna told me I should have taken a picture of her to post here, but I was so angry at the time I wasn't seeing straight.

So, we had stand in line at Southwest to buy new tickets for $500 to get home the next day (which was a Monday, and this all happened Sunday, July 27). Southwest was awesome. They were all polite and helpful, and more than willing to offer us the help we needed. Fly Southwest, screw Delta. Seriously.


Okay, that should be the last any of you hear about Oregon, at least for a while.

Random Post, because I can...

this is me scratching myself in the eye after missing our first airplane home from Oregon. I am an unhappy lady in this photo. I hate Oregon so much. Can you tell? Dude.