Wow. After months of having the sandbox directions in our hands, we finally got to it. Yes, we've had time, but not good enough weather. Not only did we not want to be outside putting this together, but we didn't want to be outside while Rhett played in it. I am so proud of it and I love that we have it! Now watch, Rhett will decide he doesn't want to play in sandboxes. Sigh.
Getting the wood home. So this is why construction people own trucks. Oooooh, I get it now.
Blood? Check (see below). Sweat? Definitely. Tears? Nope!
Even though it may not look like it, I promise that I helped. I swear it.
And yes, could we have painted? Of course. But I have dreams that one day Rhett will want to paint it with his own fun bright colors. At least that's what I'm claiming now.
Do you think I should try this chili for a ward chili cook-off tomorrow? The lack of tomatoes and beans is almost too risky for me. What do you think?
I haven't bought clothes in about seven years. Sure, I have a couple of newish pieces, but most everything I own is seven years old. Pathetic, I know. I'm finally ready to start redoing my wardrobe, but I have no idea where to start. Where does a mid-30s woman buy clothes that are age-appropriate but still stylish?
Speaking of clothes, what do you wear to bed? I found out a woman in my ward not only doesn't wear pajama pants, but couldn't imagine anyone else wearing them. WHAT?! That's all I wear from 7 p.m on. (In case you're wondering, she wears a long tee for pajamas.)
I want to enter this contest. But what should I make? As they're requiring the entry to be "original" I'm just not sure I'll be able to come up with my own creation. You know, me being re-creative and all.
Rhett entered his "Why" stage this month. It's driving me INSANE. Yes, I like that he wants to know and understand things. But no, I can't keep on this way. Here's an excerpt from a conversation we have at least 19 times a day:
Rhett: What day it is Mom?
Me: Wednesday.
Rhett: Why it Wednesday?
Me: Because yesterday was Tuesday.
Rhett: Why was yesterday Tuesday?
Me: Because the day before that was Monday.
Rhett: Why?
Me: Because that's just how it works.
Rhett: Why is that how it works?
Me: I don't know.
Rhett: Why don't you know?
All conversations end with this last question, "Why don't you know?" The kid's going to grow up thinking I'm an idiot. And really, it's taking every last bit of patience not to just ask him to stop talking altogether. Any suggestions on making this "why" stage better for all of us? (To emphasize my point, on our run this morning Rhett spent about ten minutes singing "Why you don't know, why you don't know, why you don't know...." Nice.)
Not really a question, but ah, how sad but true this is (and was for me). Even sadder still was how little the double major with geography helped me.
When I saw this on Tater Tots and Jello, I knew it would be a perfect way to try out my new Silhouette machine. After some disappointing tries and after buying a new blade and after hoping and praying that the new blade would solve the problem, I was able to get awesome cuts. Now I need to start some serious brainstorming on what to cut next!
And while I was working on the specimen art, Chuck helped out by finishing the ghosts. As my project engineer/designer, he realized that in order to keep the ghosts with their heads upright, we needed to sew the fishing line through the heads (not around their necks like I originally thought). So that's just what Chuck did. And since I used fabric instead of tissues, it worked beautifully. Now to decide where to hang them.
Finally, I whipped out this appliqued tie during Rhett's nap time on Monday. With Halloween on a Sunday, I needed something for him to wear!
P.S. Happy (first) World Statistics Day! To celebrate the day, I leave you with this fun fact: 31 percent of 25-to 39-year old women with a bachelor’s degree or beyond majored in science and engineering. Go science-y women!
...saw something more rare than the black bear--a telephone booth! Every time we've been in Shenandoah we've seen at least one bear, this trip included. However, this is our first telephone booth. Rhett loved it.
... We took kid-friendly hikes. Even if it meant that I dropped a couple of tears missing the days of 10-mile hikes for me and Chuck. I know now is just not the time for that.
...Instead, it's the time for playing in leaves! And boy does this kid know how to do it.
...We ate some good food (this is Rhett hoping for another bite of a fire-baked apple)
...And we ate some not so good food (like this charred pig in a blanket). And just so you know, we didn't actually eat this. We ran to the store and got some fresh hot dogs to replace these.
...And since it was camping, we ate some granola bars. How do you love those socks-as-mittens? Is this good parenting or what: take your kid camping when you know it's going to be cold and forget mittens. Awesome, I know. I love how Rhett thinks this hat fits him.
...We went to Luray Caverns. This place was cool, despite how much it cost. If you want to go, don't forget your Giant card. It will save you money.
...And we had fun with a timer. But this was no ordinary timer. Oh no. When depressed, it would take FIVE pictures, not just one. After doing this a couple of times, we have a live-action flip book documenting this.
Here are some of the things I've been working on lately. I created this flannel board (1) for a "joy school" lesson for Rhett and his classmates and (2) just to have. I love the pocket on back to keep all of the felt shapes. Please ignore the rest of the back.
This is a play mat for my sister's newest little one, Lucy. I'm so glad emily asked me to create this for her. It was difficult and crazy, and I'll probably never do another one, but I like it and hope Lucy does too. I found the idea (and pretty much copied it exactly) at "I am Momma, Hear me Roar." Thanks Cheri! (I say it as if I know her. Ha.)
These are Christmas gifts for two of my nephews: personalized library bags. I followed a tutorial but now I can't find it. Argh. Anyway, I am really pleased with how they turned out. And yes, I realize they're Christmas gifts, but my nephews don't read my blog. So there.
Here is Emmy's Christmas gift: play food. I think the nachos and bow tie pasta are my favorites. Or the ravioli. Or the pizza. Or the eggs. Now you see why there's such variety.
Rhett: Mom, do something silly, [he says while holding any of his "cameras" (e.g., paper towel roll or even just his hands).]
Me: [Something silly is done.]
Rhett: Click. Cheese!
[Then I am expected to thank him for taking my picture.]
Rhett: Mom, why you don't know how to make a number eight? [Talking about setting up a train track after my previous attempt took much longer than expected.]
Me: I don't know; I'll try.
Rhett: Rhett don't want you to try, Rhett want you do to it.
Rhett: Rhett going to turn you into a goon! [He blows some air my way.] Now you a goon.
[I was upset at the stupid grocery store for not ringing up more than $8 in coupons. This happens at this store all of the time and it just makes me so angry! Rhett could sense the anger as I strapped him in his car seat. But he said the following when we got out of the car:]
Rhett: Mom, you calmed down!
[I'm singing the "Maybe" song from Annie to Rhett as we're driving in the car.]
Rhett: Mom, Rhett want you to be done.
Rhett continues to sing by himself. He's always making up some song or another. Like the other day he was singing a song called "Foot Book." You know, about how many, many feet you meet! Awesome. And sometimes, he even sings it with a cup holder in his face. Not lying.
Rhett: Rhett made a toilet!
[Yes, son, yes you did.]
I love pumpkins and almost everything made from them. I also love going to pumpkin patches (hence the genesis of last year's Pumpkin Day). But this year, we got to do even more than that. Last week, we were invited to join some friends for the "Iron Chef" event, at which pumpkin was the main event. At said "Iron Chef: Pumpkin," we got to eat tons of yummy stuff made from pumpkins. (See the recap here.)
Then on Saturday we went to a pumpkin patch. This was a new-to-us one. I liked that it was a bit closer and that they had a covered place to eat our pumpkin stuff. I did not like that it was soooooo busy and that they charged for the hay ride (or "hairy ride" as Rhett was wont to call it). Regardless, we got some lovely pumpkins and ate yummy pumpkin bread. After dinner, we had some pumpkin squares, which were just like pumpkin pie.
Some time this week we'll eat our pumpkin main course: pumpkin pasta! I'll let you know how it goes.
Sure, I know that Wednesday's picture is strictly on the "yard" while this one encroaches into the garage. But still. They're both garage sales to me. I thought I'd at least get some Utahans saying "garage sale" but only Emily? Huh. It must be a Dixie thing. Thanks Mom. Thanks a lot.
I just don't know what to say you those of you not wearing shirts underneath sweatshirts. I'm amazed. Every time Chuck takes off a sweatshirt to reveal only a garment top, I get the chills. Oh well. I'm sure it will pass in about ten years. (Why ten? That's the number of years it took me to overcome my gross-out-edness of ankle socks.) If I see you when you're dressed this way, please just don't tell me. I'd like to stay in the dark on this one.
Finally, if I say, "Shame, shame, I know your name," what do you think of?
In other news, we got cable yesterday. Ugh. Because that's what I need: more TV.
This just in...the arm hair continues to grow! Two inches and counting.
Let's say it's chilly outside and you'd like to wear a sweatshirt. Do you wear a shirt underneath that sweatshirt or not? And for clarification, you are a garment-wearer.
...Tried hats on Bruno (wearing tons of Redskins gear).
...Played hide and seek. (Chuck was found only because me taking this picture gave it away. Let's just say that playing this game well is not Rhett's strong point.)
...Took Bruno on a long walk, which ended with me walking the last mile home without shoes due to new blisters from said shoes. I should know better: stick with flip flops.
(I have so many thoughts on this subject so excuse me if this is just a bunch of ramblings.)
This week I had an opportunity to get my hair styled for free (normally $50-$75---who actually does this?!). A friend-of-a-friend is training to become a stylist at a salon. She already has her license, but the salon requires she do more. Anyway, part of that training is doing stylings and then later, cuts and colors.
So I spent two hours getting a nice wash, dry, style, and then my make-up done. While I enjoyed being pampered (and the stylist was incredibly complimentary, which was really nice), it just confirmed to me one thing: I HATE hair. Hate it. Right now my hair care routine is this: run (so any hair "doing" from the previous day is undone by sweat and humidity), shower, and put in ponytail. This may or may not include a wash. More than likely not. It's just not important to me so I don't make time to do it.
I don't like dealing with hair care professionals either. (I like them, just not having to work with them.) I feel silly sitting in some chair with a person who doesn't know me at all. Someone who doesn't realize that I wash my hair very infrequently and doesn't know that most times I don't even bother drying it. And really, let's be honest. These people are generally artist-minded individuals. My right-brain-less brain can't communicate very well with them. Yes, yes, I know it's nice to meet people who are different from you, but this is hard for me. I have to sit in a chair for two hours and talk to someone with whom I have next-to-nothing in common?! So, uh, how about that weather?
As an aside, our weather yesterday was CrAzY! We got about 3-4 inches of rain. During which there was a fire alarm pulled at work. That's right; it's pouring rain and we're supposed to go outside and stand by the flagpole? You've got to be kidding. Fortunately, I had only walked 40 steps before we were told we could come back inside. Unfortunately I was already soaked after those 40 steps. How could a fire even exist in this weather? Turns out it was a prank. I was laughing. No, really, I was.
I guess I could explain my hair quirks to the stylist. Tell him/her that I want something that I can wash and wear because I don't even own hairspray. But (1) I think that style is nonexistent and (2) I'm embarrassed. I mean, the stylist is clearly a person who loves this stuff so much that they chose to make it their life's work. Then comes me...someone who dreads this. I mean, I want to look and feel pretty, but not at a cost. I'm just not willing to spend the time it takes.
So anyway, my hair. The poor girl spent 1.5 hours on it and used a lot of product and a lot of heat and this is the best my hair can do?! Really?! Do you understand why I don't try?
And you better believe that only two hours after I was home, my hair was back in a pony tail. This girl has work to do!
However, I will go back to "let" her cut it and color it. What should I do with it?
In college I watched a lot of daytime television. I never was into soaps, but I sure watched more than my fair share of talk shows. Ricki Lake, Jenny Jones, Sally Jesse, Maury Povich (never could get into Jerry Springer nor Oprah): I watched them all. These days only Maury Povich and Oprah survive, although Oprah is done this year. Now, I only watch daytime TV during Rhett's naps once my chores are done (and generally only as background noise while I work on laundry or sew).
Thankfully I have graduated from these types of programs. I just can't make myself watch them. I mean, how many women in America can there be that don't know who their baby daddy be? (If you haven't seen Maury in awhile, this is all he does. Every. Single. Episode. "Roger, you ARE the father!")
Who are the network executives catering to by only putting on soap operas and judge shows during nap time? Do people watch these shows anymore? What they should do instead is replay anything on Bravo. Seriously. I would work a lot faster if I knew old episodes of Project Runway or Top Chef were on. This fall season got a bit better with "The Price is Right" on at 2. Although, if yesterday was any indication, they've already changed that to "Let's Make a Deal." Really? Really?
Anyway, what would you like to see during naps?
Finally, are you watching Modern Family? It's on ABC on Wednesdays (9 p.m. Eastern, 8 p.m. Mountain). It is the best show on TV right now. I'm not kidding. You can watch the pilot on Hulu or catch all of season 1 with Netflix. Chuck and I laugh out loud nearly the entire show. It really is that good.
The weekend turned out much better than expected. Of the things I hoped to do on Friday, here's what I accomplished: made totally yummy banana nut muffins (seriously so good), worked on some sewing projects (growth chart seen below, a play mat for baby Lucy, and felt food for Emmy), watched Project Runway, and finished my book.
I didn't make the pumpkin bread because I want to take it to Young Women's on Wednesday and thought it better to wait. We didn't get to eat at Sam's Club because they had no power. Oh well, pretzels and pizza another day.
I still have a lot of stuff I have to do and some things I want to do, but I'm feeling a bit better about everything. (Or at least I was until I tried uploading a picture to Blogger and it keeps rotating it unnecessarily. ARGH.)
Do you ever have one of those weeks where you just don't want to do anything you're supposed to do? You know, like, cooking, or chores, or your calling, or running. It's been a hard week (hard 12 months, really) and I'm just kind of tired of all the stuff I have to do. And honestly, about running, can you blame me? I mean this is what the weather is right now:
There only one word to describe this: NASTY. I don't care it if is only 68 degrees. 100% humidity is just disgusting. (Click on the picture if you don't believe me.)
So what do I want to do? Make pumpkin bread, banana nut muffins, work on some sewing projects, and eat at Sam's Club for dinner. And when Rhett's in bed, I want to watch last night's Project Runway, sew some more, and then read my book and fall asleep. The end.
Rhett turned 2.5 yesterday; I can hardly believe it. He's such a joy to be around and we really love spending time with him.
He still loves playing with Little People. We've lost Baby Baby but Baby Mama and Baby Daddy still hang out with us. We got him a starter train set from Ikea on Monday and he spent all yesterday afternoon playing with it. He loves being outside and playing frisbee even though his throw needs help.
Some of his favorite things right now are asking, "Mom, what day is it?" He's obsessed with knowing what day it is and knowing what we do on those days. He's also obsessed with making sure I'm happy. "Mom, are you happy?" is a frequent question. Most of the time I can answer "yes" but when he asks as we're running up a steep hill and I'm pushing the 30-pound little man, my answer might not sound quite happy. But I am, little buddy. I am.
Here are some recent things he said that made us laugh.
Rhett: Mom, you're a big girl.
Me: Would you call me a lady?
Rhett: No.
Me: Would you call me a woman?
Rhett: No. Dad's a woman.
Rhett: Rhett want to take Rhett on a walk to the country. This bucket is his "country."
Rhett: Rhett can't climb a tree because Rhett not a monkey. Is it wrong to encourage your child to climb a tree at a park/gardens? Seriously, I'm asking.
Rhett: I like being with you Mom because we're a happy family.
Rhett: Dad, go away.
Me: Rhett, that's not a nice thing to say. Why do you want Dad to go away?
Rhett: Because he's not normal.
Me: What do you think normal means?
Rhett: It means real.
Rhett: Dad a big guy but you not a big guy.
Me: What am I?
Rhett: You a short guy.
P.S. My mom's last day of work is tomorrow. She'll join my father in retirement land. Happy Retirement Mom! Now come visit us. :)
And finally, some videos for your viewing pleasure. Well, at least for Emmy's viewing pleasure.
Because I work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I still feel like I have a weekend. But it's even better because it's always a four-day weekend. If only I could get Chuck on the same schedule.
Our great weekend started on Friday with a great run. (We made a pit stop at Giant; I love when I can make my runs double as grocery shopping.) The weather has been really beautiful and the mornings have been refreshingly cool. You will hear NO complaining from me about this stuff. Anyway, it was chilly enough where Rhett needed a hat. This is how he chose to wear it for about half of the run. What a weirdo.
After running, Rhett and I went to see butterflies. Some gardens near us had an exhibit on them and it closed Sunday, so it was nearly our last chance. I'm so glad we went! Rhett was initially unsure (see picture), but as long as he didn't have to be too close to them, he was fine. And he got to see some great caterpillars as well as turtles and fish when we walked around the park after visiting the butterflies.
During dinner prep, Chuck and I used our new parenting trick of giving Rhett flour as a toy. Again, it worked like a charm. And we got to apply the lesson we learned last time we did this: no glass bowls!
Saturday started out with another great run for me (and me alone). Then it was a quick get ready as we hied ourselves to Virginia. Let me tell you something about Virginia, we Marylanders don't like going there. This is okay because Virginians don't like coming to Maryland. I still haven't figured out why this is, but it just is. So if we're going, you know it must be a big event. And it was: I bought one of these with some leftover birthday money. It's kind of like a Cricut, but (in my opinion) just a bit cooler. I don't have to buy cartridges, but rather can use images and fonts straight from my own computer. I'm a bit afraid of it, so I need to find time to read the users' manual. But after that, well, freezer-paper-stenciled-things will soon be coming out my ears.
After picking up the machine, we headed to the Washington Capitals' (D.C.'s hockey team, just in case) practice arena to watch the guys skate. Of course we couldn't not buy Rhett his own jersey. Unfortunately we weren't able to get the jerseys signed. Maybe another time.
After Rhett's "nap" (another post for another day when I'm not so angry), we walked Bruno to a local park and played and then came home and played with our behind-the-house neighbor. They have a son who is three weeks older than Rhett and I have hopes they'll be BFFs. They seemed to have a good time. Then came dinner. Whenever I make these sandwiches I always splurge and get crab chips. These things are my manna from heaven (along with Hot Tamales and Air Heads and Cherry Clans). If any of you come to visit me, I pledge to always have some for you to try.
Once Rhett was in bed, Chuck and I went downstairs for more Daria watching. Seriously, Daria is one of the best shows to ever be on television and now one of the best shows available on Netflix. I'm not kidding. I love her. I love every character in the show. I think she's the girl I'd be in high school if I were to suddenly be 15 again. (Note: She's not who I was when I was 15 because I wasn't that self-confident. I wish I could have been her. But I'm definitely her now, just 18 years older and not in high school.) One of the episodes we watched last night included one of my favorite all-time Daria quotes. You can watch the episode here and fast-forward to minute 11:45 to catch Kevin saying it. It's probably not that funny to anyone else, but it's one of the rare movie quotes that is almost always in my head and I'm constantly saying it, but NO ONE else gets it. At least Chuck does now. Already my shoulders feel a bit lighter. (Due to my research in writing this post, it looks like you can watch every single Daria episode via the magic of the internet. Aren't you lucky.)
During the Daria watching, I got some much needed crafting and organizing done. My pajama drawer and running clothes drawer are in much better shape now, thank you very much. And crafting-wise, I did some brainstorming on gifts for family for Christmas and even started on some felt food.
Church on Sunday was as good as any Sunday church. When I came home there were real people looking at the house next door. This house has been vacant for over two years, so Chuck and I get excited every time someone is looking at it. And even more exciting is they seem to be our age! I didn't see any kids, but still, people! Next door! Real ones! This sighting was followed by another of Rhett's "naps" and then dinner with friends and dessert with Relief Society. Man I love weekends.
Last week I showed my Beehives a wedding picture of Chuck and me. It was one in black and white. One of my Beehives, Maureen*, asked if black and white was all they had when I was married, or if it was just our choice to have it done. I laughed sooooo hard at this. I mean, really, yes I could be her mother (in fact I think her mother and I are the same age), but I'm not that old, right?!
To the other Beehives' credit, at least one said, "How old do you think she is?! They had color back then." To which Maureen replied, "Well, I don't know my history very well."
Nice to know my wedding (which took place no longer than six years ago) was back in "history." These girls crack me up.
The next time I want to keep Rhett busy for a looooong time whilst I get things done, this is the way. The kid can spoon flour from one cup to the next for hours. It'll definitely help when the pool is no longer available due to cooler temps.
So. Not unlike other children, Rhett really likes peanut butter (and honey--thanks Grandpa No Google!). A lot. In fact, he likes it as much as Chuck likes pizza, which is enough to eat it everyday if given the option. Thankfully, however, Chuck doesn't start crying when I tell him he can't have pizza for lunch. Score. But Rhett, oh man, he will throw a fit when told he can't have peanut butter and honey for lunch.
Twice a week, on the days when he goes to the babysitter's house, I send him with peanut butter and honey. I'm totally taking the easy way out by doing it, but I don't want her to have to fight with him the way I do. So I fold. He does get carrot sticks though; that makes me feel a little bit better. But it's really important to me that he learns to like and eat many different things on the other five days. And when I say "different" it's not like I'm putting sashimi in front of him. I'm asking him to eat BBQ chicken pizza or tuna or enchiladas. I don't think I'm being too unreasonable here, am I?
Recently I asked a parenting "expert" about how to help my toddler become a better eater. This was her response:
I'm kind of tough on picky eaters because they often just get pickier and pickier. Part of this is due to the texture of a food--liver is anathema to most children--but you have a family kitchen, not a food court.
This sounds cruel, but if you try it, I promise that your child won't starve: Put away any food your child eats, cancel your visits and your visitors, and only offer three meals a day and two snacks of foods your child has always refused. Do it sweetly, say that's okay honey, I'm sorry you're not hungry, and take him out of his high chair in 20 minutes. No cookies, no pbh. By the third night, I promise you he'll eat whatever you put in front of him and he'll be amazed how much he likes it. The trick is being nice--and not negotiating, not making a big deal of it.
After last night's showdown where we tried to get Rhett to eat some enchiladas, I'm done. I think I could do what she suggested if I think it's the right thing. And the more and more picky he becomes, the closer I get to thinking it's the right thing. But what do you think of this method? Too cruel? Any other tips on how to make Rhett a better eater?
While we're at it, any tips at making Chuck a better eater? Kidding! (Kind of.)
[Rhett's getting his diaper changed and so his pants are off. He's about to take a nap.]
Me: Rhett, do you want me to leave your pants off so you can be cool during your nap?
Rhett: Rhett no want to be cool, Mom.
Rhett: Rhett having a hard time with Bruno. Ain't that the truth.
Rhett: [Singing to the sorta tune of, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star"] You go when it's bad, you go when it's bad, you go when it's bad.
Rhett: [Singing] I'm bad, I'm bad, I'm bad when it's hot. What is this obsession with singing about badness?
Me: Okay, sweet pea, time to go.
Rhett: Don't call Rhett sweet pea, Mom.
Me: Okay, what should I call you?
Rhett: Bean.
Me: Uh, why Bean? Who calls you Bean?
Rhett: Auntie Em. It should be noted that at no time has my sister called Rhett "Bean." Who knows where he got this. And really, at no time has he initiated talk about Auntie Em. Dreaming?
Me: Goodnight, Rhett. I love you.
Rhett: Go away Mom.
Me: That's not a nice thing to say. You should say, "Good night. I love you."
Rhett: Good night. I love you. Go away.
Rhett: Thank you for the fork. Thank you for the olives. Thank you for the cheese. Thank you for the crackers. He's getting pretty dang good at saying thank you.
Rhett (to Rhett): Thank you right hand for the fork. [As he passed the fork to the left hand. And no, he doesn't know his right from his left, but he thinks he does.]
One final one
Rhett: Mom, don't get ready to go to the temple.
Me: I'm not going to the temple. Why do you think I'm going to the temple?
Rhett: Because of your shirt and your pants.
Me: Oh, this is what I wear to go to the temple?
Rhett: Yes! Oh my. As much as I hate to post it, here is what I was wearing. It's the mix of work shirt and pajama bottoms. But whatever it is, it is NOT temple appropriate!
