Josh says SBC means "Seattle's Best Cheese".
:)
Friday, June 3, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
SBC.
No, I don't mean Seattle's Best Coffee, now owned by the illustrious and esteemed Starbucks Corporation. Although I forgive you for thinking so, given who's speaking here.
No. SBC means something totally different. And totally awesome.
But before I share with you, I must first implore your sympathy. See, I have this terrible habit of calling my children horrid names. Like, names other people wouldn't even think of attributing to their children. Or even their dogs. Names that have absolutely nothing to do with them, aside from the fact they may indeed own a vagina. (Or not.) And just when I start to feel guilty about this terrible habit of mine, I recall that my own mother had a few good ones up her sleeve too. (Eh heh. It took me some years to realize that "dildo brain" was not something I should call my friends.)
This apple didn't fall far, but when she fell? She rotted.
Okay. So. You're now properly warmed up for being introduced to my precious daughter's nickname, the name I call her most and the name by which many of my closest friends refer to her. I'll give you a quick hint... it's shortened version is "Cheese". Appropriate also because cheese is her favorite food. Inappropriate for so many other reasons.
Ready? ...
...
...
...
Still there? (Just checking...)
...
...
...
SBC = Stinky Butt Cheese.
Stinky. Butt. Cheese.
Yes friends. I named my daughter after excrement. Dat's love, raught thar.
No. SBC means something totally different. And totally awesome.
But before I share with you, I must first implore your sympathy. See, I have this terrible habit of calling my children horrid names. Like, names other people wouldn't even think of attributing to their children. Or even their dogs. Names that have absolutely nothing to do with them, aside from the fact they may indeed own a vagina. (Or not.) And just when I start to feel guilty about this terrible habit of mine, I recall that my own mother had a few good ones up her sleeve too. (Eh heh. It took me some years to realize that "dildo brain" was not something I should call my friends.)
This apple didn't fall far, but when she fell? She rotted.
Okay. So. You're now properly warmed up for being introduced to my precious daughter's nickname, the name I call her most and the name by which many of my closest friends refer to her. I'll give you a quick hint... it's shortened version is "Cheese". Appropriate also because cheese is her favorite food. Inappropriate for so many other reasons.
 |
| Violet the ...Cheese |
Ready? ...
...
...
...
Still there? (Just checking...)
...
...
...
SBC = Stinky Butt Cheese.
Stinky. Butt. Cheese.
Yes friends. I named my daughter after excrement. Dat's love, raught thar.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Wylet's New Bike!
The neighbor gal growed up a little and got a nice big girl bike in reward. Happily we collect her cast-offs from time to time, so when her daddy came over with a purty pink and purple tricycle for Wylet, we were excited! We've had her on a trike borrowed from her cousin that's just theeeeeeeees much too big for her, so the subtle difference in axle-placement and seat depth in the new one was just enough to make a world of difference.
Wylet is a biking maniac now. Almost as much as her big brother!
Wylet is a biking maniac now. Almost as much as her big brother!
Saturday, April 9, 2011
On blogging. Etc.
I find blogging to be super fun and totally cathartic because it harmlessly enables my complete inability to shut the hell up. Talk talk talk! It's like...I HAVE TO if I want you to come back and read about my rotten children and their current antics. Or, more likely, something about ME...which seems like the only thing I'm capable of putting on this thing these days.
So, some words on my CHILDREN -- Wilson is a little boy. No, I'm not kidding, I'm entirely serious, he's officially not a toddler or baby or waddler or anything like that. He's just...boy. I don't really like it, actually, because I am entirely against this whole 'growing up' thing. But he's pretty fun, and pretty cool, and if I *had* to have a baby grow into a little boy, I guess he's doing as good a job of it as anyone.
And Violet? Pweez. She's a girl. No, I'm still serious, a real little girl. As in, a girl who DOESN'T WEAR PULL-UPs but wears freakin' big girl underwear. I am *really* not happy about that, given that she's my baby and I don't currently have any other babies to take her place as she moves on (friends, guard your babies...) Boo. My kids are growing up and I'm sick to death about it.
Happily, Josh has been very proactive about putting together our family videos in DVDs! Today I watched one of Violet as a tiny infant, and Wilson as a 19 month old little guy who could barely talk. What a special time that was in our lives, and so fleeting. How thrilled we are to have these precious things saved on video. Friends? Tape your kids. Tape yourselves, your lives, your loved ones. Time moves too quickly, especially when we're busy trying to raise the wretched things, for us to capture the meaningful moments as they're happening. We only really appreciate them later when we see them again because, in the moment, we aren't aware that the best time of our lives is now.
Okay, that is all. When my computer (busted) gets fixed (in a week) I'll upload some new pics so you can see what my babies have grown into. Kids!
So, some words on my CHILDREN -- Wilson is a little boy. No, I'm not kidding, I'm entirely serious, he's officially not a toddler or baby or waddler or anything like that. He's just...boy. I don't really like it, actually, because I am entirely against this whole 'growing up' thing. But he's pretty fun, and pretty cool, and if I *had* to have a baby grow into a little boy, I guess he's doing as good a job of it as anyone.
And Violet? Pweez. She's a girl. No, I'm still serious, a real little girl. As in, a girl who DOESN'T WEAR PULL-UPs but wears freakin' big girl underwear. I am *really* not happy about that, given that she's my baby and I don't currently have any other babies to take her place as she moves on (friends, guard your babies...) Boo. My kids are growing up and I'm sick to death about it.
Happily, Josh has been very proactive about putting together our family videos in DVDs! Today I watched one of Violet as a tiny infant, and Wilson as a 19 month old little guy who could barely talk. What a special time that was in our lives, and so fleeting. How thrilled we are to have these precious things saved on video. Friends? Tape your kids. Tape yourselves, your lives, your loved ones. Time moves too quickly, especially when we're busy trying to raise the wretched things, for us to capture the meaningful moments as they're happening. We only really appreciate them later when we see them again because, in the moment, we aren't aware that the best time of our lives is now.
Okay, that is all. When my computer (busted) gets fixed (in a week) I'll upload some new pics so you can see what my babies have grown into. Kids!
Monday, March 14, 2011
The F Word.
This quarter wasn't nearly as taxing as the last, although I always find myself more intense about stuff than I plan to be. Sometimes just letting go can be a challenge. But as I like to say, and by which I would like to live better: "Done is better than perfect."
Two exams are done. Two left to go. By this time tomorrow, I hope to be a free woman.
Aside from the bonds of laundry, that is...
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tiny Buttheads in the Snow
Whilst my offspring frolic in the frozen precipitation, I stay snuggly warm surfing the interwebs.
This is how we do snow 'round here!
This is how we do snow 'round here!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Sorry Tiny Man.
Tiny Man to Violet: "Bica, do you like me?"
Violet to Tiny Man: "No. I like Mommy."
This may sound familiar to some of you, as an eerily similar exchange occured earlier this year between Violet and her father. Who was, let's just say, less than impressed.
I swear to God I don't teach her these things. Or even encourage them! Don't worry, I'm painfully aware that the love won't last long and that I'll suffer for it mightily in her teenage years.
But for now, I am enjoying my tiny fan club. Even if the rest of the house suffers a little for it. (Sorry guys.)
Violet to Tiny Man: "No. I like Mommy."
This may sound familiar to some of you, as an eerily similar exchange occured earlier this year between Violet and her father. Who was, let's just say, less than impressed.
I swear to God I don't teach her these things. Or even encourage them! Don't worry, I'm painfully aware that the love won't last long and that I'll suffer for it mightily in her teenage years.
But for now, I am enjoying my tiny fan club. Even if the rest of the house suffers a little for it. (Sorry guys.)
 |
| Mommy and Violet, Christmas 2011 |
Friday, February 11, 2011
On Daddies.
Recently, a few women I care about have lost their fathers. It is always a tragedy when someone loses a person they love, but for me, losing daddy hits very close to my heart. While working to come up with things to say, I ended up with the below. It is an open letter to all the little girls who, for one reason or another, have lost their daddies.
Perhaps the 'daddy' described here sounds more like your mom. Your big sister or brother. Your best friend, or your aunt to whom you were very close...
To all who've lost someone dear, this is for you.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Dear Friend,
Daddies are special men who teach us, their daughters, the most important things about life and love. Through their examples they teach us patience, through their assurance teach us courage, and by their affection set our expectations for a partner. They are the warm, steady influences in our uncertain lives, and we rely on them for support, encouragement and acceptance.
And then one day we grow up. We become women, and suddenly realize our daddies are just men; that they have faults and make mistakes. But we decide we don't mind. We forgive them their weaknesses and failures because they are perfect in our childhood hearts. We accept them because of what they mean to us.
And then one day, they are gone. And the world no longer makes any sense. Our most reliable fail-safe person has disappeared, and we feel abandoned. We are surrounded by our partners, peers and children who love us and whom we love, but who can never see us or accept us in that perfect way of a parent. In that precious way of only daddy.
The following kind words were given to me shortly after my father died. They were shiny pieces of hope in a time of deep grief. What they meant to me, I hope they mean to you too, as we are sisters of a kind:
"You are your father's daughter. You can do anything, even this."
Love,
Nicole
Perhaps the 'daddy' described here sounds more like your mom. Your big sister or brother. Your best friend, or your aunt to whom you were very close...
To all who've lost someone dear, this is for you.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Dear Friend,
Daddies are special men who teach us, their daughters, the most important things about life and love. Through their examples they teach us patience, through their assurance teach us courage, and by their affection set our expectations for a partner. They are the warm, steady influences in our uncertain lives, and we rely on them for support, encouragement and acceptance.
And then one day we grow up. We become women, and suddenly realize our daddies are just men; that they have faults and make mistakes. But we decide we don't mind. We forgive them their weaknesses and failures because they are perfect in our childhood hearts. We accept them because of what they mean to us.
And then one day, they are gone. And the world no longer makes any sense. Our most reliable fail-safe person has disappeared, and we feel abandoned. We are surrounded by our partners, peers and children who love us and whom we love, but who can never see us or accept us in that perfect way of a parent. In that precious way of only daddy.
The following kind words were given to me shortly after my father died. They were shiny pieces of hope in a time of deep grief. What they meant to me, I hope they mean to you too, as we are sisters of a kind:
"You are your father's daughter. You can do anything, even this."
Love,
Nicole
Thursday, February 10, 2011
I don't kneed you anyhow.
So my beloved routine was destroyed a few weeks ago during an unfortunate training incident when I strained a tendon in my right knee. I thought it would be a quick recovery, but it's proven much longer and much more annoying than anticipated. I've tried not to get discouraged or to dwell on the fact that the progress I'd made in fitness to that point was starting to feel substantial. And that I was feeling really good and more like...myself. And now I feel flabby and tired again, and my knee hurts too, to boot.
Boo.
So I'm going to try again, but I'm going to do it a little differently this time. I'm gunna get back on that nose-flaring horse we know as Jillian, but I'm going to spend some hours in other things too, just to make sure I'm not setting myself up to get hurt too quickly again. (She's a ball-buster, kids, but her technique is imperfect, in my sub-professional opinion.) I'd do the gym thing, but family-time and being home is paramount this quarter. So I'll have to stumble along until a new routine develops.
Tiny Man is four and a half now, and y'all might recall that the last time I was really in shape was about the fourth month of my pregnancy with him. (At which point I stopped running and the rest is history.) 5 years is a long time to de-condition, especially when you've had not one but *two* pregnancies in its first two years. (That's right, friends. Tiny Man was 10 months old and barely weaned when Stinky's ovum was fertilized.) That kind of work is really hard on an old bod. I'm lucky I can still walk upright.
Don't get me wrong. It was totally worth it. I love my kids, love how close they are in age and I think back on those years of pregnancy and nursing with much fondness and warmth. Being Mommy is awesome, and I'd do it again the same way if choosing again. But, the work it will take to get even close to the place where I started from is hefty, and setbacks like tweaked knees are harder on my confidence than they ever would have been before I first got pregnant. I don't need to be that small again. My body is different having brought life into the world, and I am okay with that. But I would like to have more energy, and to feel more comfortable in my skin. I want to feel like I remember feeling then -- fit, spry and like trampolines weren't the enemy.
So. My new mantra. I will not be discouraged! I will take care of my body! I will love it even when I still have a pooch six months from now! And the next time I tweak my knee, well, I'll find some other way to keep my routine on-track. Even if it involves a shake weight.
Boo.
So I'm going to try again, but I'm going to do it a little differently this time. I'm gunna get back on that nose-flaring horse we know as Jillian, but I'm going to spend some hours in other things too, just to make sure I'm not setting myself up to get hurt too quickly again. (She's a ball-buster, kids, but her technique is imperfect, in my sub-professional opinion.) I'd do the gym thing, but family-time and being home is paramount this quarter. So I'll have to stumble along until a new routine develops.
Tiny Man is four and a half now, and y'all might recall that the last time I was really in shape was about the fourth month of my pregnancy with him. (At which point I stopped running and the rest is history.) 5 years is a long time to de-condition, especially when you've had not one but *two* pregnancies in its first two years. (That's right, friends. Tiny Man was 10 months old and barely weaned when Stinky's ovum was fertilized.) That kind of work is really hard on an old bod. I'm lucky I can still walk upright.
Don't get me wrong. It was totally worth it. I love my kids, love how close they are in age and I think back on those years of pregnancy and nursing with much fondness and warmth. Being Mommy is awesome, and I'd do it again the same way if choosing again. But, the work it will take to get even close to the place where I started from is hefty, and setbacks like tweaked knees are harder on my confidence than they ever would have been before I first got pregnant. I don't need to be that small again. My body is different having brought life into the world, and I am okay with that. But I would like to have more energy, and to feel more comfortable in my skin. I want to feel like I remember feeling then -- fit, spry and like trampolines weren't the enemy.
So. My new mantra. I will not be discouraged! I will take care of my body! I will love it even when I still have a pooch six months from now! And the next time I tweak my knee, well, I'll find some other way to keep my routine on-track. Even if it involves a shake weight.
 |
| Me, pre-babies. Sigh. |
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Babies on Display
So yesterday the Buttheads came to visit me at school! Josh took the day off so he could escort them in to participate in a learning lab for my pediatrics course. It was really fun; we had two rooms filled with toys and balls and 32 grown-ups anxious about meeting strange little kids. Happily, the Buttheads were really great. At least, as as far as I know, they didn't scare any of my classmates into sterilization.
After they left, some older children came, and they were fun too. But working with them taught me something -- as much as I love children, of all ages, my heart really belongs to the little ones. So if I were to decide to be a pediatric therapist, it would most-likely be in the context of children 0-3.
Babies? Are where it's AT.
After they left, some older children came, and they were fun too. But working with them taught me something -- as much as I love children, of all ages, my heart really belongs to the little ones. So if I were to decide to be a pediatric therapist, it would most-likely be in the context of children 0-3.
Babies? Are where it's AT.
 |
| Baby Tiny Man and Laundry |
Ohhhh, we're halfway there...
Ohhhh! Living on a prayer!
Actually we're living on Josh's paychecks and loans. Thanks honey!
Today is the halfway point in my grad school program. So in 1.5 years, I'll finally be done with these shenanigans. Just in time to start new ones, of course. Preferably some that are less expensive and more conducive to sleep and gluttony.
Thanks for y'alls' support these many months! Not too far now!
(Oh who am I kidding? I could gestate two children in the time I have left to go. *sigh* :)
Actually we're living on Josh's paychecks and loans. Thanks honey!
Today is the halfway point in my grad school program. So in 1.5 years, I'll finally be done with these shenanigans. Just in time to start new ones, of course. Preferably some that are less expensive and more conducive to sleep and gluttony.
Thanks for y'alls' support these many months! Not too far now!
(Oh who am I kidding? I could gestate two children in the time I have left to go. *sigh* :)
Friday, February 4, 2011
Life to Date.
Friends and family,
Boy howdy, we've been busy! Though I'm not sure with what...life? Sometimes just trucking through the day feels like an insurmountable obstacle. Perhaps it's just the weather...
So what's new? First of all, I just turned 30. 30! And I'm not even sorry about it. I kinda feel cool being in this decade where people are generally productive, mature and fertile. It makes me feel like I should be taken more seriously...and that I've finally arrived. Feels good! My friends (like you) and family made me feel very loved and special on my birthday, flooding my Facebook page with good wishes, for example, and Josh and the kids' sang me happy birthday over cupcakes. :) Awwww. Josh spoiled me over the weekend by a) letting me take an all-day photography class and then b) picking me up and taking me to a lovely dinner together before whisking me to a lovely B&B in North Bend along the Snohomish river. Where they had chickens. And goats. And mattresses like clouds. And niiiiiiice people who cook like magicians.
We've been able to spend lots of hours together "just us" lately thanks to Josh's mom, Gigi. She came to town to bond with her newest grandson and to play with our kids on weekends. Seriously, it's awesome! We go to lunch and just sit there in the peaceful stillness, chewing contentedly. We run errands without pushing carts laden with squirmy chattle. We adore the break, and the one giving it!
What else of late? Hmmm. Oh yes, I had to travel to Olympia with my class and 670 other PT professionals/students to talk with legislators. I appreciate the lesson, but would have much preferred staying home and studying. Or sleeping. I got very little out of it, save for a couple nice photos which, if you're interested, can be found here.
Also? Raspberry mochas are the shizzle.
Hope you and yours are well!
Love,
The Demetrescus
Boy howdy, we've been busy! Though I'm not sure with what...life? Sometimes just trucking through the day feels like an insurmountable obstacle. Perhaps it's just the weather...
So what's new? First of all, I just turned 30. 30! And I'm not even sorry about it. I kinda feel cool being in this decade where people are generally productive, mature and fertile. It makes me feel like I should be taken more seriously...and that I've finally arrived. Feels good! My friends (like you) and family made me feel very loved and special on my birthday, flooding my Facebook page with good wishes, for example, and Josh and the kids' sang me happy birthday over cupcakes. :) Awwww. Josh spoiled me over the weekend by a) letting me take an all-day photography class and then b) picking me up and taking me to a lovely dinner together before whisking me to a lovely B&B in North Bend along the Snohomish river. Where they had chickens. And goats. And mattresses like clouds. And niiiiiiice people who cook like magicians.
We've been able to spend lots of hours together "just us" lately thanks to Josh's mom, Gigi. She came to town to bond with her newest grandson and to play with our kids on weekends. Seriously, it's awesome! We go to lunch and just sit there in the peaceful stillness, chewing contentedly. We run errands without pushing carts laden with squirmy chattle. We adore the break, and the one giving it!
What else of late? Hmmm. Oh yes, I had to travel to Olympia with my class and 670 other PT professionals/students to talk with legislators. I appreciate the lesson, but would have much preferred staying home and studying. Or sleeping. I got very little out of it, save for a couple nice photos which, if you're interested, can be found here.
Also? Raspberry mochas are the shizzle.
Hope you and yours are well!
Love,
The Demetrescus
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Starbucks Got Bored-er.
31-oz iced drinks.
I sH*t you not.
Maybe they are a soul-less corporation-y corporation...
...Nah.
I sH*t you not.
Maybe they are a soul-less corporation-y corporation...
...Nah.
 |
| Coming Soon: the Trenta |
Thursday, January 13, 2011
I punch babies.
Those who know me well know how much I love to punch babies. Yes! I punch babies! In their bellies! Sometimes IN THEIR KIDNEYS! And you know what? They totally love it. I have yet to meet a baby whom I have punched who hasn't giggled with glee (or at the very least tolerated it graciously and stoically).
I come from the parenting school of "beat your children from birth". Okay, that's not our official name, but it could be. Lest you fear I actually *beat* my kids, rest assured I don't, but I do occasionally step on them or sit on their heads. Or drop them from tall heights onto couches or beds. Or cross their arms gruffly, pinning them to themselves while sing-songing "Wylet loves herself, Wylet loves herself". It's cruel stuff really, and wonderfully awesome.
Strangely, my children love this rough play. And I've found that it's great training for the surprise wipeout. My kids rarely cry when they trip or crash. When they fall, it's as if they really do bounce. And while that is probably a result of us laughing our a$$es off every time they do (hey, it's funny), I think playing with kids like they aren't made of porcelain is a really good thing. It builds, to borrow a term from my studies, "self-efficacy".
One of my PT courses this quarter is Pediatrics, and we're learning about child development. A key point from today's class was that tiny infants' vestibular systems (think balance) are stimulated when their caregivers bounce them, pat them, rock them. All those movements of their tiny little bodies begin the cascade of developing motor skills. What I took from this (aside from the fact that God made us wonderfully, indeed) is that all babies want to get punched. Yes, in their tiny kidneys.
So go to it folks, go punch some babies and do them and their vestibular systems a favor.*
*No babies were harmed in the making of this blog post.
I come from the parenting school of "beat your children from birth". Okay, that's not our official name, but it could be. Lest you fear I actually *beat* my kids, rest assured I don't, but I do occasionally step on them or sit on their heads. Or drop them from tall heights onto couches or beds. Or cross their arms gruffly, pinning them to themselves while sing-songing "Wylet loves herself, Wylet loves herself". It's cruel stuff really, and wonderfully awesome.
Strangely, my children love this rough play. And I've found that it's great training for the surprise wipeout. My kids rarely cry when they trip or crash. When they fall, it's as if they really do bounce. And while that is probably a result of us laughing our a$$es off every time they do (hey, it's funny), I think playing with kids like they aren't made of porcelain is a really good thing. It builds, to borrow a term from my studies, "self-efficacy".
One of my PT courses this quarter is Pediatrics, and we're learning about child development. A key point from today's class was that tiny infants' vestibular systems (think balance) are stimulated when their caregivers bounce them, pat them, rock them. All those movements of their tiny little bodies begin the cascade of developing motor skills. What I took from this (aside from the fact that God made us wonderfully, indeed) is that all babies want to get punched. Yes, in their tiny kidneys.
So go to it folks, go punch some babies and do them and their vestibular systems a favor.*
*No babies were harmed in the making of this blog post.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
More Modern Family.
Today will be the day I finish Season One of Modern Family. This is a bittersweet day. Because as happy as I will be to be caught up with the rest of America, I have really enjoyed all these times the Family and I have shared together during the quiet hour between me getting home from school and the kids coming home.
But it's ok. We'll have time for each other later.
As I was thinking about this post, I spent a few minutes on Facebook and caught site of a friend's survey results. Which led me wonder if there is a Modern Family survey. Which led me to wonder, if there was, which character would I be? Which led me to wonder...and conclude...immediately and with absolute certainty...
I am Cam. And our similarities go far beyond the charming jowl.
Yes folks, you read it here first. I am a flamboyantly gay man. And proud of it.
But it's ok. We'll have time for each other later.
As I was thinking about this post, I spent a few minutes on Facebook and caught site of a friend's survey results. Which led me wonder if there is a Modern Family survey. Which led me to wonder, if there was, which character would I be? Which led me to wonder...and conclude...immediately and with absolute certainty...
I am Cam. And our similarities go far beyond the charming jowl.
 |
| Cam and a baby that is not Lily |
Yes folks, you read it here first. I am a flamboyantly gay man. And proud of it.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Meet Violet
Violet is 2 1/2 years old and is in the Ocean Room at Fairview School. Her teachers are Mrs Kim and Miss Wood. Her best friends in school are Sophia, Carter and Piper, though really she'd rather play with Wilson.
Violet's nicknames are Tiny Miss (Daddy), Bekah (Wilson), Stinky (Mommy and others) and Vi-Vi (school).
Violet loves to sing along with music and especially likes to dance. Her favorite songs are Moonshadow by Cat Stevens, Down to the River to Pray by Alison Krauss, ABCs by various artists and Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne.
Violet likes the idea of movies more than she likes actually watching them. Given the choice, however, she'll take the first five minutes of Finding Nemo over the first five minutes of other movies.
Violet is a pretty good eater but frequently ends up just eating the five things the Wilson will eat. Her favorite food is definitely cheese and her favorite drink is milk.
Violet generally has her bunny with her. The bunny's name is Hoppy Hoppy. Violet's other bunnies except for one are also all named Hoppy Hoppy. The bunny always accompanies Violet to bed. She also likes to read books in bed. She will often stay up late reading to herself. Her favorite books are The Hungry Caterpillar and hidden-picture books.
Violet loves Wilson and her daddy very much but her favorite thing on all the Earth is Mommy. Even more than Hoppy Hoppy.
Violet's nicknames are Tiny Miss (Daddy), Bekah (Wilson), Stinky (Mommy and others) and Vi-Vi (school).
Violet loves to sing along with music and especially likes to dance. Her favorite songs are Moonshadow by Cat Stevens, Down to the River to Pray by Alison Krauss, ABCs by various artists and Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne.
Violet likes the idea of movies more than she likes actually watching them. Given the choice, however, she'll take the first five minutes of Finding Nemo over the first five minutes of other movies.
Violet is a pretty good eater but frequently ends up just eating the five things the Wilson will eat. Her favorite food is definitely cheese and her favorite drink is milk.
Violet generally has her bunny with her. The bunny's name is Hoppy Hoppy. Violet's other bunnies except for one are also all named Hoppy Hoppy. The bunny always accompanies Violet to bed. She also likes to read books in bed. She will often stay up late reading to herself. Her favorite books are The Hungry Caterpillar and hidden-picture books.
Violet loves Wilson and her daddy very much but her favorite thing on all the Earth is Mommy. Even more than Hoppy Hoppy.
Starbucks Corporate Got Bored.
Starbucks went and changed their logo this year. I get why they did it in 1992 (there are some things we don't need to see while sipping our coffee), but the 2011 version just feels...like the corporate folks couldn't muster the energy to make something interesting.
Will it keep me from patronizing? Of course not. As long as they're brewing and don't evolve into some kind of lefty hippie circus, I'll be drinking their tall nonfat caramel macchiatos.
But. Still.
Will it keep me from patronizing? Of course not. As long as they're brewing and don't evolve into some kind of lefty hippie circus, I'll be drinking their tall nonfat caramel macchiatos.
 |
| Feh, Better, Great, Less Great |
But. Still.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
Confessional.
Modern Family is my new favorite thing. (Sorry Glee.) I'm halfway through the first season, and I can't get enough!!So. Confession time.
I, too, dress up for firefighters.
Go ahead. Judge me.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
R to the Ou to the Tine.
The past four mornings I've maintained a set routine: wake up, pop Jillian in the player, succumb to her punishments for 25 excruciating minutes, wallow in my own sweat until feeling returns to my limbs, dress the kids, take them to school then shower. Shower! Every day! I've even been wearing makeup and...earrings. I know. The madness cannot possibly continue...sweatpants and dirty hair are surely on the horizon.
But for now, there is something so calming about this routine, even though it begins early and painfully. Keeps the rhythm of the day set at "cool", and keeps me happy. Keeps the kids happy. Keeps us all happy, which is nice if we're going to stay a family through the duration of [the Shred] grad school.
Now I'm sipping my caramel americano with my organized little binder ready to learn. It's only day 4, so this "routine" will change over the next couple weeks, but for now...couldn't be more perfect.
But for now, there is something so calming about this routine, even though it begins early and painfully. Keeps the rhythm of the day set at "cool", and keeps me happy. Keeps the kids happy. Keeps us all happy, which is nice if we're going to stay a family through the duration of [the Shred] grad school.
Now I'm sipping my caramel americano with my organized little binder ready to learn. It's only day 4, so this "routine" will change over the next couple weeks, but for now...couldn't be more perfect.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Shred.
So I buckled. This out-of-shape thing? Doesn't look good on me. Most importantly I am tired all the time and can't chase Wilson down the street without nearly asphyxiating. Mommy needs to get her act together, and fast!
But when? Where? My life is crazy, I rarely sleep, how can I fit training into this life I lead?
I found my answer in Jillian Michaels. She promises to take me from this:
to this:
in just 30 days. That's a big promise, folks, but since she's a celebrity, I trust her.
I will probably blog (read: whine) about this now and again. Sorry. But when I'm all lithe and not-sleepy at 3pm and able to chase my Tiny Man halfway across the city, it'll totally be worth it. I'll try to keep it pithy. And clean. Try.
But when? Where? My life is crazy, I rarely sleep, how can I fit training into this life I lead?
I found my answer in Jillian Michaels. She promises to take me from this:
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| Before Jillian |
to this:
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| After Jillian |
in just 30 days. That's a big promise, folks, but since she's a celebrity, I trust her.
I will probably blog (read: whine) about this now and again. Sorry. But when I'm all lithe and not-sleepy at 3pm and able to chase my Tiny Man halfway across the city, it'll totally be worth it. I'll try to keep it pithy. And clean. Try.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Goin' to the Chapel.
But it isn't just my wedding that was wonderful. The lead-up to it and then the long time since has been pretty great too. We've had our ups and downs as most couples do, and the trials of tragedy and graduate school have stretched us in ways neither of us expected nor for which we were prepared. But I think <*knock on wood*> despite these things and the inherent bias of our different ages, that we're going to make it.
I'm a spiritual person but sometimes...I'm superstitious too. And I think that good beginnings speak favorably for good endings. So I'm looking to do everything possible to make sure my pal has a perfect wedding day so that 6.5 years from now she feels about hers the way I feel about mine. But more importantly, I'm making an effort in this new year to be a better wife, so that when my spouse thinks back on that day, he feels affirmed in his choice of mate.
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| Circles Representing Eternity |
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