Working

So JG's naps have been terrible this past week.  Not only is she fighting the afternoon nap as if it were a cloaked Romulan warbird  (yes, I am that kind of nerd), but when she does nap it's only for 30 minutes.

Suffice it to say, I have had very little time to work on anything.  Meaning my house is a mess and I have made one monster in the past two weeks.  One.  And I haven't even sewn him up completely.

In my head I'm working on some new patterns.  I'm planning on using some of my dad's old Levi's to make a soft denim monster, but what kind of monster I am unsure of.  I am in this creative space where I am lazy and know I should be making things, but instead am busy adding new photo's on facebook.

So.  Sad.

I should just give myself a date where I'm going to reopen the etsy store and go for it.  Give myself a friggin due date.  But my banner is old and I can't figure out how to make a new one.  (And it has the added bonus of giving me yet another excuse to not get things done.)

So.  Pathetic.

Plus, I have to deal with this:

Yeah, I think that's puss.

So.  Gross.

This was taken a couple of weeks ago, his foot is doing better now, but I'm a little sick of playing nurse to my gimpy cat.  The bigger/longer cone has made it so he can't reach his foot, so hopefully it will actually heal completely in the next two or so weeks.

Otherwise I'm going to amputate it.  Take that gimpy cat!

And, finally, the obligatory JG photo.  She really enjoys chewing on her sweaters.

It is Done

I did it.

I finally followed the crowd.

I joined facebook.


I know, you are all utterly amazed and can't believe it... or you don't really care.  Whatever.

I was thinking this last week about what an isolationist I am, how I spend so much time all by my lonesome (and JG), and how I am horrible at reaching out and being social.

Now, I realized that in today's day and age there is technology that can help to temper such an unhealthy way of living.  It's called social media, and I too can join the herd and connect with people I haven't talked to in years.

And I have!  Old best friends, ex-boyfriends (ok, just the one), people I went to school with.

But, I do have to say that I'm only acknowledging the people with names I recognize (and let me tell you, I am terrible with names).

It's so weird to talk the people I haven't known anything about for so long.  It's really nice to catchup and see how well they're doing.  No one that I know of has ended up in a crack house with some nasty monkey on their back.  And that is good.  All is good.

The sky hasn't fallen the way I thought it would if I signed up.  I'm actually pretty happy I did.

Bad Mommy

I had a bite of chocolate.

It was French.

It was smooth and creamy and crunchy and dammit it left my tongue wanting more.  Seriously, I have not had a piece of chocolate in six months.  Six months.  When I was pregnant I ate the stuff every day, so having to go without for so long has been... well, not that bad actually.  (I've learned to really love juice.)

Anyway.

Now, you may ask, why am I eating chocolate, when most chocolate has MILK in it?

What?

The doctor said JG has an INTOLERANCE, not an allergy, and I thought why not?  Alex was eating a French bar of the good stuff and for the first time I had the impulse to make myself happy, rather than making sure that JG doesn't bleed out of her butt... colon.

I had a bad mommy moment (and my dreams are filled with them, nightmares really, where I pig out on ice cream only to realize after my third milkshake that I can't eat the stuff - oh my poor baby girl!)

Was it a good choice?

No.

But at least it was only two days of screaming poop (because the intolerance causes a lot of pain, I imagine) with flecks of blood.  It used to be three days.  So her colon is slowly learning how to deal with the milk proteins, and hopefully in a couple of months there will be more improvements.

And then, and then, those milkshakes better be shaking in their boots because I'm gonna get so fat eating their offspring.

So. Fat.

Considerations

I am much better at making/creating things when I have due dates, or a reason.  I also don't like to have my creations staring at me for months, I like it better when they are gone.

Therefore, I am considering reopening my etsy shop.  Yes, I had one years ago, and for many reasons I closed it.

However, I feel I might do a better job of making toys if I knew I had to fill up a shop to get people interested, to get them to buy things.

And also to pay student loans.  Because I am doing such a good job of using my degree right now.

What do you think people would be interested in?  Monsters, dolls, Testy Chickens?  Or should I just start making and see what happens?

Eh?


Eh?


Eh?

Returning to say Hello

We had a nice weekend until our basement drainage pipe decided to call it quits.  Again.  This happens about once a year, when our feces come up to tell us where they've been.

"Hey!  You know how you flushed me three days ago!  Well, just thought you should know I've been hanging out in that pipe... until now... Hello!"

And this is the part when I gag and hate my drainage pipe with a burning rage.  Luckily we caught it before the puddle got too large, however once the drain says, "No more traffic allowed," we can't use the water.

Because if you do, the puddle just gets bigger.  The puddle filled with poo and Jesus knows what else.

(Hold on, gagging, holding vomit back)





So I called the Roto-Rooter guy out to run a snake down.  Again.

You should have seen the ball of roots he pulled out.

Imagine that a guinea pig took up residence in our drainage pipe and set up house, and got fat off of... I'll let you answer that.

But he pulled that guinea pig out (it was more sliced out, with this weird rotating blade) and now our pipe is clear.  Unfortunately, that damned guinea pig (giant balls of roots) will grow back and start this whole disgusting process over again.

However, if we want it to remain clear it would cost almost $7000 to rid our house of the problem.  Also, the solution would probably kill the shrubbery out front, and possibly break our awesome AC unit, because a bunch of plumbers would have to come and dig holes to access said evil pipe and burst it.

When the Roto guy pitched this to me he made it sound as if this decision would be made soon and we would have him right back to fix the problem.

Um, huh?  I was standing in my hallway, in my cow pajama's and worn old slippers holding JG.  What about me said I'm made out of money?

So, now I've got to devise a plan to douse my concrete floor with bleach to kill any poo particles still hanging on for dear life.  Sorry, poo, but I flushed you for a reason.

Now stay there.

New Years Funk

Without meaning to I fell into a bit of a funk.  I was on a forced creative high before Christmas, trying to get things done, but it only takes one failure (stupid doll dress) for me to throw my hands up in the air and say to hell with it.

For my sanity's sake, making things keeps me emotionally healthy and happy.  So, now that I'm not making anything, or haven't figured out what to do with myself while JG is napping, I'm watching far too much TV.

I'm losing my patience with it.

I am also losing my patience with reading.  It used to be that I could finish a book that I wasn't too crazy about, in hopes that it would improve at some point.  I wouldn't want to miss its redeeming qualities.  Now, if I read 30-70 pages and I'm just not into it, or say a kitten dies for no particular reason, I give up on finishing it.  You could say I'm either too tender hearted or entirely too slow of a reader.

I want every book to be the Hunger Games, fast paced, hard to put down, with characters I like.  So many books keep trying to make me swallow these exaggerated and irritating versions of human beings that I can't go along with the farce.

However, I should mention, that I don't even know if I would be able to read my favorite authors right now.  I'm not sure if I should blame it on the funk or if it's just how I am now that I have a baby.  Who knows.

So, today JG and I will venture out of the house (which we haven't been doing much of) and go look at fabric or something.  Fabric has so many redeeming qualities.

The sad thing is I have a stash of fabric I've been hoarding... and I cannot bring myself to actually use it.  It's a terrible compulsion.  I even have a bunch of it laying out in my craft room, I just love looking at it, but just thinking about using any of it brings on a slight anxiety attack.

Which is pathetic.  This is also the reason I try not to allow myself go look at fabric.  For example, I have several prints that I own multiple yards of (2-6 yards), and I can't think of why I spent the money on all of it if I can't bring myself to actually use it.

Booger.

Okay, I better find a reason to pull out of this mess.

I use far too many commas.  Lucky for me if you didn't notice.

2010

So far the year started off with a bang.

Alex and I went to bed at 9:30 Thursday night (seriously) but the dog was gracious enough to wake me at midnight so I could hear my neighbors celebrating with fireworks.  Even better, JG slept through the night in her very own crib and did not wake up until 8 AM the next morning, or if she did wake up earlier I don't know, because when I found her she was quietly playing in her crib.

Thanks be to Jesus.

However, she had to sleep with me last night, as she completely refused to be transferred to her crib.  You see, I nurse her to sleep in my bed and then move her to the crib before we go to bed.  This worked like a charm for months, however in the last month she has been more and more unwilling to sleep in her crib.

I should also mention that I am not good about letting her "cry it out."  It doesn't help that I don't believe in it, but I know that if I enforced the crib a bit better she would probably spend more time in it.  However, like Thursday night, she will sleep the whole night in the crib, so I think that she's been sleeping with us because she hasn't been feeling well.

Who knows.  Does anybody have any suggestions?

Anyway, 2010.  Goals.

--I need to figure out a way of getting out of the house without spending money.  Every time I leave the balance on my credit card increases, which is not good for a girl with no job and no income.  Hopefully the weather will start to improve and JG and I can think of something creative to do outdoors.

--I'm thinking of putting together a class on doll making.  I have no idea how that would work.  I've been pondering it for months.  Like, where would I start?  With the pattern?  Or have pieces sewn up and ready to stuff?  Or, let people design their own doll pattern with my help?

Also, I've been doing this for about six years, so does that make me knowledgeable enough to teach it?

--Find a teaching job for Fall 2010.

I think that's it... other than my obsession with how much cheese I will eat this next summer.  And ice cream, cake, doughnuts... anything I have not been able to eat for the last six months.  In five months JG will either be weaned or her protein-induced weirdness will have resolved itself.

Oh, sweet Jesus, thinking about cheese makes my mouth water.

And, happy new year to all you people.  Have a good one.

Not Allergies

After JG's doctor suggested it I made an appointment with an allergy specialist about a month ago and had been dreading it.  When I had my skin prick test at 14 (imagine lying face down on a table while they poke your back 100 times with pins and possible allergens to see how you react) it sucked.  But I made the appointment for JG after she screamed for three days after I ate some almond poppyseed muffins, which may or may not have been the offender.

My mom and sister both insisted we not go, fearing the skin prick test and how horrible it can be.  But all I could think about was my screaming baby and how wearing it is to try and deal with her when she's like that.  I had to know what was wrong and exactly what I had to avoid.

Thankfully the allergist was very nice and immediately knew what was going on with JG - it's not allergies, it's protein-induced proctitis.  Basically, her colon has a high intolerance/sensitivity to cow's milk and soy proteins.  He said that about half of nursing mothers dump their protein into their milk while the other half don't, and it's common for babies with protein-induced proctitis to suffer from malnutrition -- at this point he looks at JG with her shirt off and says, "Obviously that is a problem she doesn't have."

She's a bit chunky.

Everything I eat goes into my milk.

Then they did the skin-prick test to verify is initial diagnosis.  When the doctor and nurse said that a lot of babies don't usually mind being poked Alex and I looked at each other and almost rolled our eyes, thinking, "They haven't met our child."

Alex held her and, amazingly, she didn't cry at all.  She gave the nurse a crusty look, but was otherwise calm and held on to her dad.

And behold, she is not allergic to anything they tested for.  Not milk, not almonds, not grass, nothing.

However, the allergist suggested I avoid soy products as well.  I love soy sauce.  Booger.

The good news is that most babies outgrow this type proctitis anywhere between nine and twelve months.  She's seven-and-a-half months now, so it is possible that in the next two months she could outgrow this...  But I'm willing to bet she'll have it for the full twelve months.  Which is fine.

I just look forward to eating whatever I want next summer and putting on twenty pounds.  Seriously.  I weigh about 105 right now and I am freezing all of the time.

I have no ass.  My pants don't fit.  But still my boobs are big enough that my old shirts don't fit either.

Joy.

Failure & Success

Sewing Failure:

And sewing success:

Making a pattern for a doll is ten times easier than making the pattern for the doll's clothes.  I find it to be a very frustrating process, but I am slowly learning how it works.  Of course, it helps if I add the extra quarter inch into the pattern itself (second set of pictures) rather than trusting myself to do it myself later with the material (first set of pictures)...  

Hey, I'm learning dammit.  Also, working with knit is sort of a pain in the butt, however the dress/slip looks nice and hangs well.  And it fits her without being overly big or too too small.  

Random note: this is what my mornings look like:

Baby Farts

You know, I never stopped to think how difficult it must be to be a baby.  To have to learn to sit and roll and use your mouth to make sounds.

Or how to get your guts to get rid of that damnable gas that keeps creeping in to your belly.

The best part about this gas is that it attacks in the middle of the night, and it wakes JG up every time.  She can't fart whilst sleeping, no.  She must cry and wake me up so I can hold her, then she farts.  Like an adult.  Loud and lately stinky.

It doesn't matter if she's sleeping in her crib or in my bed, if she's gassy she's awake, which means I'm awake too.

I'm tired.

At what point in life do we start to deal with gas as if it was nothing?  I know for me, growing up in a house where the word "fart" was never uttered let alone released, that maybe I didn't deal with it until I was in college sometime.  

But I know at some point I stopped waking my mother up to share my gassy morsels with her...

Right?

Maybe it's just JG's way of letting me and Alex know that she really is OUR daughter.

Just Curious...

So...

Tiger Woods is a cheater, which I honestly have to say I am not that surprised about.

Think about it, if you were the most popular man on earth, and you could have or do anything you wanted, what would you do?

Okay, maybe your answer is not to cheat on your hot model wife, but hey, everyone to their own taste.

The only thing I am surprised about, appalled really, is his taste in women (other than his hot model wife).  I mean, if you're going to go outside of your marriage for, whatever it was he went for, wouldn't you go for the other hot models?  Or other beautiful women?

Not the trashy, bleached her own hair, has face piercings, looks like a hooker but isn't?  I mean, at least a high paid escort will keep your secrets, and is probably ten-times more attractive than the dozen or so ladies he stepped out on his wife with.

Wait, not ladies... lady is a word reserved for a woman of high-class, who is thoughtful enough not to sleep with another woman's husband.  Tiger did not cheat on his wife with ladies, he cheated on his wife with what looks to me like... well, trash.

What an idiot.  Even worse though, an idiot with bad taste.

Production

I have spent the last two weeks preparing for the Sisters & Friends Boutique (you'll find the address there) my mom is holding at her house in Ogden.  This means I've been making toys like crazy... or, you know, more quickly than I usually do.

Because it normally takes me two weeks to make one thing.

So, please awe in amazement that I made nine, COUNT THEM, nine toys for this boutique.  I know, I am amazing...

Or I just started to have fun making monsters:

These adorable little creatures are available for a $20 adoption fee, which will go toward paying off student loans.

When asked about their future homes, most monsters said, "Please, just get me away from that crazy baby.  She keeps shaking her head and grinning at me..."

I also have two dolls, but I'm trying to figure out their faces:  I think I'm going to have to unpick them and try something else.

They just don't evoke that "ahhhhh, cute" that I was hoping for.

Eh, try, try again.

Also, one last selling point.  If you're still searching for a special gift, and you would like to try and pawn off somebody else's creation as your own, feel free to do so with my toys!

I won't tell a soul.

Quandary

JG is wearing her last diaper.

There are no more diapers in the house.

She just pooped a gallon in her last diaper.

We only have about 20-30 minutes before her morning nap.

Quandary:  Do I run to Costco now to get diapers and bread and such

OR

do I let her sit in a gallon of poo over her nap?

Hmmm.



SOLUTION:

We had to run to Costco.  JG was basically wearing a cup-full of poop (in her last diaper) and I would feel so guilty if I left her in that thing for two hours to find a very red bottom at the end of it.

Diaper rash is the worst.  So, a quick trip through my lovely Costco where I received many strange glances as we raced through the isles.  It was great fun...

Messy Eater

I know, she's cute, what do I have to complain about?

Transitions

Babies.

Babies are interesting beings.

They are constantly evolving and becoming something new.  Who they were a week ago is not who they are today.

At least, this is what I'm learning from JG.  Just when I think I have her figured out, she flips like a coin and she's someone I haven't met before.  Which is REALLY frustrating.

I am a creature of status quo, and love and expect things to stay the same.  I know how to deal with sameness.  And I know having these sorts of expectations for a baby is just setting myself up for failure.

BELIEVE ME, I KNOW.

For those times when I am tearing my hair out and on the verge of collapsing to my knees and submersing my head in bleach, I call my parents.

Thank Jesus they live close.

The amount of sanity I still have left in my head can be attributed to my mother and father.

Thanks you guys.  REALLY.


And to think, this is what makes my life difficult and wonderful all at the same time!

Making some dolls

I've been making some crafty progress.  I thought I would demonstrate to my IMMENSE audience that I am doing stuff... when JG is napping, at least.

I think getting this far has taken me 6 weeks.  Embroidering the faces takes the longest, mainly because I hesitate about colors and what the face should look like.  Then I do the same thing with the hair, I want it to look right, so it took me a solid week of placing felt, removing, cutting, twisting, and then going with my original idea.

I am a seriously slow creative person, especially when I don't have a due date.  However, my mom is having a mini craft fair at her house in two weeks, so I've got to sew together a whole lot of toys... I wonder how quickly I can do that?  I'll post more about that in a little while.

See how excited I am to have them finished?  Now all I have to do is take weeks to make them underpants and dressess... well, that took me a year with the first one.  So, I guess you'll just have to wait and see how quickly (or, in reality, slowly like frozen molasses) I can get these suckers completed.

New Moon Review

*Spoiler Alert -- if you haven't seen the movie and don't want to know anything about it, then don't read this*

First of all, thank you to those fine ladies who gave an afternoon of their time to a lonely and fast-talking stay-at-home-mom.  I really appreciate it and I had a blast.  Movies are made all the better when there is someone giggling beside you.

Now to the movie.

I was not as disappointed as I thought I would be.  However, I just have to say that I am utterly confused about the whole basis of the movie -- Edward and Bella's "love" for each other.  Why do they love each other?  All they do is whine about it, and what do they do other than fly through trees and make kissing look painful?  (Seriously, each time they kiss it's like they are either going to jump into bed right there, or they are going to die because of the immense electrocuting pain that must transmit through their lips.  Ouch.)

I do like Jacob though, I guess if I knew I had to take a side it would be his... until he starts to whine about his love for Bella.  Why are these guys so possessive of her anyway?  Jacob is sarcastic, cute, cut, funny, and easy going, which is a nice break from Edward's being... so pale faced and... brooding?  I mean, if I had to point at somebody and tag them as Emo, it would be Edward.

Also, when Bella and Jacob are riding motorcycles and she stupidly runs herself into a boulder, why doesn't he give her a helmet and teach her how to ride rather than saying, "No more motorcycles, it's too dangerous."

It drives me nuts how helpless she is, and how this somehow makes her more desirable to vampires and werewolves.  She's breakable!  And a total klutz!  She bleeds a lot!  I love her!  

However, New Moon compared to Twilight was enjoyable and I didn't rudely break out in laughter more than once... or twice?  I appreciate the director making Jacob be shirtless the majority of the film, but Edward needs to keep his shirt on (vampire pastiness is not a good thing).

All in all, I'm glad I went.  I enjoyed myself.  Jen and I think we should get together more often (ladies?).

Okay, I'm beat.  Going to bed now... or to watch a lot of bad tv.  Whatever.

If you thought your day was bad...

Were you pooped on?

JG set me up today.  I thought she had a loaded diaper, but it was just a dirty fart.  So I removed the diaper, cleaned her off.

Now, when she's on the table she likes to grab her feet and eat her socks, which angles her bottom up, and makes her appear to be adorable.

While reaching under her changing table for a new diaper,  that's when she let loose a fountain of feces that arced up into the air and splattered on the towel.  She rested a second and then dirty farted, spraying my shirt with poop.

My child pooped on me.

The best part is that wasn't the end of it, she was merely reloading.  The next squirt missed the towel entirely and hit the edge to the table (thank Jesus there's a lip there, or I would of had poop EVERYWHERE).

The worst part is I am still wearing the poop covered shirt.  I looked down and realized the shirt was already stained... and just kept wearing it.  I know, I am disgusting.

But she's the one who let loose.

Stinky baby.





















**Okay, so I emailed people about New Moon, but only got one response (hey Starlynn!), so if you're still interested in joining me (stay-at-home diarrhea-mouthed mom) reply to the email (if you got it) or send a new email... or whatever.  We're looking at Saturday, matinee time sometime.

Let them eat cake!

Ladies and Gentleman, the joy of joys has occurred in my home today.

Wait for it.

I baked a friggin' cake.

Milk free.

Full of delicious.  Little tasty blueberries floating gaily through the fluffy sponge of vanilla goodness.  Covered in frosting.  So much happiness generated on my tongue in one sitting.

Seriously, folks, I am a cake person and it has been killing me to go without.  Chocolate is one thing, it gives me heartburn anyway, so I can forgo that without much of a problem.  But cake?  No.

No.  No. No.

The best part is that I found the mix at Albertson's.  I kept thinking I was going to have to go on some long journey full of adventure and intrigue to find a milk-free cake mix, since that is what the internet kept implying.  Stupid, sly internet, full of the $7 cake mixes that are "guaranteed allergen free" (meaning no eggs, milk, sometimes wheat or gluten).  Implying it's impossible to find elsewhere.

Lucky for me I was on the phone with Mindy (hey Min!) and decided to take the time to check every box of cake mix.  (Seriously, every box.)  And, lo and behold!  Duncan Heines is milk free.  The only allergen in it is "wheat."  I swear they know there are people like me, dying for cake and too damned lazy to make one myself.

(Side note:  I love baking.  Cookies.  Cakes.  Stuff.  But the thought of blaspheming... attempting to make a milk free cake on my own sounded fruitless and aggravating.  I'm an angry person anyway, but to go through the trouble of pouring ingredients in a bowl, mixing them together, and baking it only to have it come out tasting like vomit could send me over the edge... to giving up on cake.)

Cake!  Much deserved after a day when JG only wanted to nap an hour total.  I can't hold it against her though, she's teething or something.

Cake!  (currently digesting in my belly)

Socially Incompetent

Ugh.

Who would have thought interacting with others is a skill? One, if not practiced on a regular basis, that will grow stale and rot. Seriously.

This last Saturday Alex and I were social people -- which is a feat for us. We've spent many recent weekends sitting in our basement watching TV. Mainly old shows from the 70's, sci-fi, and fantasy stuff. Oh, man, the time we have spent in our basement. Poor JG, she hates being in the basement, and we're lazy enough to put up with her hating it.

Good thing she naps for two hour chunks on the weekends. How else could we so thoroughly waste our time?

Anyway.

Instead of being hermits this last weekend, we actually ventured out from our dark, comfortable cave, and broke bread with other people.

This is when I should mention, if you have forgotten, that I am a stay-at-home mother. I spend all of my time with a baby, who luckily for me is growing into a happy, smiling booger. (A 300% improvement over the screaming, crying thing she was for months.)

Now, spending all of this time with a tiny human who doesn't talk, who giggles when I gnaw on her belly, and expects me to carry her everywhere, has changed me.  It has made me socially incompetent.

This does not translate well to adult interactions.

I can't go up to friends and gnaw on their belly's... but, it's almost like I have to remind myself of this. In my head I have to think "okay, adults 'talk' about things, think of some sort of conversation starter."

And when I finally do talk, it's like the flood gates have opened and there is nothing I can do about what comes out and the speed at which it travels.

Friends, I am sorry if I talked your ears off, if I made little to no sense, and if it seemed like I was not finishing any of my thoughts. I didn't realize I was doing any of these things until I reflected on it later.

Oh, man, I am so socially incompetent. I can't even relax when I'm in the company of other people (husband doesn't count). Like any other talent, being social is something that needs to be flexed regularity.

I am so out of practice.

Good thing New Moon is coming out soon.  I have plans!  With people!  (We should probably figure out what time and place and stuff...)

Also, I'm thinking a crafting/sewing night or something would be cool.  Anybody up for that?  At my house?

However, I am warning you now.  I will talk your ear off.  You may leave thinking, "Who is that strange woman who couldn't edit anything before she spoke?  Who thinks poo is funny?"

Oh, yeah, that's me...