Advent-urous

A couple of years ago, I was working on THE COOLEST advent calendar. The base was a big wool felt Christmas tree, about 4 feet tall and for every day of the month (until the 25th), I had made an animal ornament to put on the tree which were also made from wool felt; animals like a duck-billed platypus, a giraffe, a fox, an elephant, a parrot, etc. They were super rad and I had spent hours on them. I took them on a trip and kept them in a big plastic bag. I only had 2 more animals to go until it was completely finished...and then I left the bag on an airplane and I never saw them again. Sad story. With the wind sucked from my sails, I started over and made a much less-elaborate one.
A 3 ft wool felt triangle Christmas tree shape with double-layered wool felt Christmas ball-type ornament pockets with the days/numbers embroidered onto the front layer of the pocket. I forget where I got the idea. Garnet Hill, maybe? Martha? I forget. Anyway, I like it, but I get a little wistful when I look at it and think "Man, that duck billed platypus was so cool." It also doesn't photograph well. I haven't found a great place to hang it yet, so for now, I hang it over this mirror in the entryway. Last year was our first year doing it: every morning there was a little scroll of paper in that day's pocket with a poem on it, which told of a fun activity or treat we would do/have for the day, always something pretty simple and low-cost but the girls love it.

Tomorrow's:
To keep your Mom from going insane,
You will make a paper chain
So you can count the links to know
When Christmas is coming. Ho-ho-ho!
And you may have a cream puff to eat
As your coming-home-from-school treat!

Oh, It Was Indeed Fantastic

Roald Dahl and Wes Anderson? Yes, please.

My Childhood in a Nutshell

This is dedicated to the Garlock men in my life:

Week 37

The day after Thanksgiving:
fat, full and crazy.

Typical

You want to hear something weird?  So last week or whatever when I decided that it was time for Olive to sleep through the night, I was fully expecting to have to let her cry it out but that night after I brought cookies to my neighbor as a peace offering/apology, Olive slept through the night 7:30pm to 7:30 am. And she's continued to do so with the exception of one or two nights throw  in there when she had a cold.  So...yah. That was way easier than I expected.

And now that Olive's sleeping through the night, I am not. Hence this post at 1:10 in the morning.    

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Three Things in Which I Saved the Best For Last

I had to throw in the towel for my NaNoWriMo. November is my busiest
photography month and with three shoots a week, there was just no way
I could fit in writing a novel. Imagine that. Maybe I'll try during my
slow months like February or March when it's still frozen and ugly
outside.

Can you crack seven eggs successfully with one hand? I can. These are
the types of things you learn you can do when your baby is teething
and clingy.

A mouth full of teeth is not something that is looked on with great
importance here in central Pennsylvania, which is something I had
noticed early on. Instead of getting cavities filled, a lot of people
here elect to simply pull the tooth. I guess if you hang out with a
bunch of toothless wonders, then what's the big deal if you don't have
all your teeth either?--So the toothlessness domino effect goes.
Today at the grocery store, one such woman with several gaps in her
smile stopped to admire May and Olive. The woman is tickling Olive's
toes and smiling at her and I can feel what's about to happen next.
"You lost all your teeth!" May points and yells. We quickly exit stage
right.

May is the queen of pointing out the obvious and announcing all things
awkward. And if you know my May May well, you know that she has a
naturally loud voice. Last week she (loudly) asked her little friend
at the gym why her Grandma looked so old while the woman was standing
right there. What was the real kick in the junk was that it was
actually the little girl's MOTHER May was referring to. Yes. Awkward.
I'm just waiting for the day when I get paid back for all of the awful
things my children have said out loud to people. One of these days I
fully expect a random child standing next to me in the airport at
baggage claim to point at me and in a May-like booming voice declare
to their Mommy that the lady with the big bum-bum sure smells funny.

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Week 36

Todas las chicas.





...yes. And Olive is still naranja.

Dangerous Games

Ruby: I hope you have all girl babies.
Me: You don't want any brothers?
Ruby: No way.
Me: Why not? Boys are really fun! I loved having just brothers. Why don't you want a brother?
Ruby: Because boys play dangerous games like the ones you played with your brothers!
Me: Dangerous games? Like what?
Ruby: Like Run Rat Run!


Run Rat Run: a very dangerous game played with either a rubber band or a ball. One player/sibling/(father) stretches and aims rubber band or ball at another player/sibling/(child) and with a very threatening Southern drawl says "Run, rat, run." Shoot rubber band or chuck ball at the player/sibling/(child's) person as hard as you can. Laugh. Run away.



But really, the Garlock's Run Rat Run is nothing compared to games played by the Reynolds Boys, which often included fire, various forms of weaponry and/or great heights. In a couple of weeks, Go has the week off. Because I am the best wife in the world, like seriously, I suggested he go to Vegas for a couple of days and spend some time with his family. While there, Clint, the best dentist in Vegas!!!, is going to fill some of Go's cavities and Go is going to "cut some stuff off of Clint's hand," and according to Go, "it's going to be awesome." Sounds like a dangerous game to me.

Week 35

She's very into whisper-growling lately.
It's extremely contagious.
Not only is it hard not to whisper-growl back to her,
but it's hard not to whisper-growl in every day conversation with adults.
I find myself whisper-growling all the time now.
Go ahead. Try it.
Her favorite word to whisper-growl is "Da-da."
Say it soft and growly: Da-Da.
Feels good doesn't it?
You didn't know it but I just whisper growled that sentence while I typed it.
And that one.
And that one, too.

Step One

Cut a hole in the box! Just kidding. Bad Annie, bad.

Delicious Butterscotch Chocolate Chip cookies were made. Delicious Butterscotch Chocolate Chip cookies were delivered to my extremely nice neighbor, along with an explanation and apology for the next 3 to 5 nights.

Wish me luck.

Thanks for all the advice, friends. I will come back to report on how Operation Sleep goes.

What do to, What to do

I love my baby. Love, love, love her. THAT BEING SAID--she is my worst
sleeper. Ruby and May slept through the night by 3 months, I'd say.
Olive started sleeping through the night at about 5 or 6 months but it
only lasted about three weeks. Every night she wakes up between 2:30
and 3:30 am. Tomorrow she will be exactly 8 months. What do I do
every night when she wakes up and cries? I go in and nurse her and I
keep doing it because she seems hungry. Also, we live in a townhome
next to a very nice newly single mother who's bed is on the other side
of the wall where Olive's crib is and Olive wakes her up just from the
very short time she cries until I wake up and walk into her room. The
thought of having Olive cry for an hour--I just can't do that to my
poor neighbor. So, mothers. What do you think? Should I still be
feeding her in the middle of the night? Not including the middle of
the night feeding, she nurses five times a day and eats at least one
big (stage 2 size) baby food jar, along with the same amount of rice
cereal or oatmeal three times a day. She's tall, she's growing like a
weed. I think she's my tallest baby. Anyway, now that I just told
everyone this very long scenario, what would you do?

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"Embarassed" Just Doesn't Quite Cut It

How do you put into words the feeling that comes over you when you
discover you've been walking around the gymnastics waiting area with
your Henley-style shirt unknowingly unbuttoned all the way, talking to
the director, chatting with other parents, and playing peek-a-boo with
their babies? Peek-a-boo indeed.

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Week 34

Someday soon she'll be an excellent washcloth folder.









...or not.

May Hangs With a Staunch Republican Crowd

Here in PA with a Daddy and all of his friends in the medical profession, President Obama is not often discussed in a positive light. Nevertheless, May is a fan and always has been. She talks about him all the time. After yesterday though, I think she might cross over to the red:

May: Do you know Barak Obama?
Little Friend: Yah.
May: He's our president!
Little Friend: Barak Obama kills babies and cuts them up into little pieces.

The Brussel Sprout Verdict

...which may or may not be my new Rock Band band name...

Tasty? Not exactly.
Disgusting? No, not really.
Makes your house stink to high heaven? Yes. Definitely.

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GNO

If you are having a particularly stressful couple of weeks and starting to go a little insane, I highly recommend you grabbing a pal to go see This Is It. Totally fascinating.

What a great idea, Molly. Thanks so much for getting me out of my house! The walls were starting to close in but today I feel like I can breathe again.

Three Things for Today

1. The powers that be command that every town here in Central PA have their Trick or Treat Night on a different night--never actually on October 31st. Some townships trick-or-treat up to a week earlier. Lame. This irritates me every year and not just because it means I have to have their costumes done earlier. It's just dumb.

...aaaaaaand this is where you're supposed to view a supremely adorable image of my three girls all in their flower costumes, which Ruby cleverly donned as "The Olive Garden." I had a photoshoot right before trick-or-treating and by the time that wrapped up and I had uploaded my images to the computer, my camera battery was like "Peace!" So accept this illustration I did a couple of years ago of some trick-or-treaters instead. And you can look forward to seeing my girls as flowers next year...Mom.


2. I purchased some brussel sprouts at the grocery store today. I've never had brussel sprouts and will be following Ina Garten's technique--just roasting them with olive oil, salt and pepper. I'm a big Ina fan so I have high hopes. I know people have strong feelings against brussel sprouts and recall a scene in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs (the children's book not the horrid movie) where at a birthday party, the sky serves brussel sprouts and peanut butter with mayonnaise. The children look less than enthused. Why does this particular food get a bad rap? I'm ready to find out.

3. My brother sent me these two links this morning and it made my day. John just probably thought I'd like the song/performance because it was both really good and odd which is always a winning combination but it ended up really speaking to me in a way a song/performance hasn't in a long time. It's hard to explain but for me, it personified what being in love is like, specifically my relationship with Go. The song, the lyrics, the energy, the driving beat, the ebb and flow, the melody, the interchanging major and minor chords. And I'm particularly glad that the song I felt "fit" us happened to be an awesome one and not Who Let The Dogs Out.

Same song. Two different performances. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. "Home."

She's huge