His Name is Pending

I'm always on the lookout for good children's artwork; it's what I find to be most inspiring. And the nice thing is, it's not hard to come by. Children make way better artist than adults. A couple of days ago, I picked my kids up from the gym day care and a picture was sitting on the check in/check out table. It was a drawing of a smiling light pink octopus with one giant blue eyeball. Zap! I was inspired. I didn't have any good light pink felt on hand but I did have some red, so here is the start of what I think might be a wallet or maybe an iPhone cozy? Because when I do get my iPhone 3G, I want her to be cozy, that's why. And I shall name her Gloria, because though I have not confirmed it with babynames.com, I'm pretty sure Gloria means "glorious", which is what iPhone 3Gs are. They come out on my birthday--that's how *nsync Apple is with my body and soul. And yes, I just spelled it "*nsync", not "in sync." There's no going back now. Thanks a lot J.T.

Anyway, here is the start of my little guy. I'm still undecided on his name. It really all depends on how his smile turns out, which I'll be stitching on by hand, so we'll see if he turns out to be a Wilbur or a Gerard.

Decor. Friend or Foe?

I usually don't like to steal ideas or anything else for that matter (except for these things of course) but I've been wanting to steal this one for awhile and I finally did it.


I still like hers better but I like mine enough to not redo it. I replaced the collage of frames I had going up my stairs with this and it looks a lot cleaner which makes my eyes happy. And Go's too. But really, if Mr. Minimalist had his way, he'd live in a stainless steel box with absolutely nothing on the walls and no furniture because he could just sleep on the ground. Why dirty up a clean space up with a bed or a couch or table or chairs or...shelving? (gasp!) He would have nothing in his stainless steel abode except for the bare essentials, which of course would be a jar of green olives, a can of sardines and a jug of goat's milk.

How to Make Friends With a Goat

Step 1: Offer the goat some food, like dried corn which you can purchase for 25 cents. Do not confuse their droppings with raisins and offer their own poo to them. They may eat tin cans and old boots, but they will not eat their own poo, which is a good quality in any friend, goat or not.

Step 2: Once the goat accepts the food and a small but firm foundation of trust has been layed, get down to their level, eye to eye and ask them some questions about themselves. Where are they from? Do they come here often? Do they travel much? What is their greatest fear?


Step 3: Now it's your turn. Share with the goat your hopes and dreams.

A Safari Unlike Any Other

Today we took the Ringgers to this animal park here that we love. The safari ride, like last time, was awesome. Our tour guide Chaz, was very nice and informative but major drama broke out halfway through the tour.

"Ok, folks if you look over here to your left, we're coming up on some American Bison. Aren't they gorgeous? As most of you know, in the 1800's--

And all of a sudden, this elk climbed aboard our tour bus.

"Oh, hey baby. You'll have to excuse me, everyone. This will just take a moment. Silvia, how many times have I told you not to come see me at work?"

The elk did not look amused. She stuck out her leg and said "Don't you "baby" me, Chaz McTourguide. I don't care if your belt buckle does say "Park Rangers, American Heroes" on it, that doesn't make you a hero if you're off cheating on your girlfriend. Where'd you go last night? I texted you like 10 times and you never texted back. You were with Doreen, weren't you? And don't tell me that your phone wasn't getting service. I know this park like the back of my hoof and every square inch of this place gets at least 2 bars."

"I was out with the other rangers, I told you that. Gosh! Why can't you just trust me?"


Silvia gave Chaz a long, withering stare but said nothing.


Chaz waited for Silvia to reply, as did the rest of us--the entire bus had stopped talking and gave their full attention to the quarrelling couple. Flies buzzed. Someone coughed. A crow cawed. The sun glistened through Chaz's bounteous chest hair.


Chaz couldn't take it any longer. He exploded with "Go ahead. Ask Mark. He'll tell you. We were just out planting trees. And then we went back to his cabin and played his Wii Fit. Go ask him! He'll tell you. Doreen wasn't even there!"


"I don't believe you. I think you were with Doreen."

"Go. Ask him."


Silvia was silent. "I swear Silvia, sometimes you just make me so crazy! Why can't you just trust me? Just because your Dad ran out on your Mom, doesn't mean I would do that to you. Don't do this to me. Baby, can't you see that I love you? I love you." And then he broke down crying. It was awkward to say the least.

Silvia thought for several tense moments and then said "Fine. I believe you. Now stop crying."


Chaz was so relieved. He stood up, dusted himself off, wiped his eyes and said "Hey, everybody. I have an announcement to make. Silvia, are you listening? Stop chewing my shoelace and listen for a minute. Baby, we've been through a lot together. You've helped me through some tough times and I know I've done the same for you. I think we're really good together, Silv. Which is why I'm about to ask what I'm about to ask you."


And out of his khaki'd pocket, he pulled out a golden ear of corn. A few of us gasped. "Silvia," he said, looking deep into her watery eyes, "will you marry me?"

Silvia broke into a smile and said "Yes, Chaz McTourguide. Yes. I will marry you. Let's get married next April. In the forest. No, wait. In the reptile house. No, the baboon exhibit. No. The forest. Yes, that's it. Afterall, it is where we met." Everyone on the bus stood up and clapped and cheered.


Chaz gazed down at his bride to be and you could tell that's exactly where he wanted to get married as well. Right there in the forest.


Silvia gave Chaz a big kiss, whispered something in his ear and Chaz stoically gave Silvia the golden ear of corn.


Then he gave her a pat on the head and said "Now go make me a sandwich."

Who Wants to Hear More About My Origami?

Why yes, there is such a thing as an origami bulldog. Thank you for asking.

Oh, Bobby.

So You Think You Can't Dance

After an overwhelming 77% vote of positive feedback, we will most definitely be throwing a So You Think You Can't Dance Party. It will be in September. It will be held in our basement. It will be awesome. I'm especially looking forward to seeing some hearty efforts at the worm. Start preparing now, you honkies.

I've Been Busy

What do you do if you live in Pittsburgh, are a die-hard Pearl Jam fan, there's a PJ concert in Philly and you've got three children? Have them stay at my house, of course! Here are two of the little dears.

Well Gee Willickers, Ma!

I just went out and picked some thyme out of my yard to put in our main dish tonight. This is the first "harvesting" I've ever done out of my own garden. It was wonderful. I felt so self sufficient-- stepping out my front door, walking a couple of feet, and bending down to pick the sprigs. I just stood there for awhile, looking at my precious little thyme sprigs, totally amazed, like "Wow. I actually grew something! And it thrived! And it smells divine!" Then I went back into my house and took off my bonnet and petticoat.

Birds (part 3)

I'm back on my origami kick. I was really into it right after May was born. I'd stay up until 2 in the morning just folding paper elephant after paper elephant. Does this seem strange to anyone else? I even incorporated origami into my Relief Socity lesson a couple of weeks ago, that's just how sick I really am. Like any of my other kicks, I can't stop until I get it compltely out of my system (bookbinding, baby shoes, etc.) Hopefully it'll be soon because I'm running out of origami paper. Here is the result of last night's frenzy:

Now That's My Kind of Ballet Class

So we've established that because of who her mother is, Ruby doesn't have much hope of becoming the next famous ballerina, yes? Yes. Even so, I went ahead and signed her up for a 5 week "Creative Ballet" class. Today after I picked her up, I asked her what her favorite part of class was.
Her answer: "The donkey kicks."
That's my girl.

Something Else Fun For Us

Go dropped Ruby off at a birthday party Saturday morning while I was playing gym-rat, so he and May went on a little daddy-daughter-date to a specialty grocery store here that we like. There, he picked up some root beer we love that had been out of stock for almost a year and got May got some chocolate milk and a cookie, so it was a big day for her too. We both got home around the same time and he's telling me about his trip and the root beer and I'm walking up the stairs to go shower and he calls after me, "Oh, and I got something else fun for us." If you don't live at our house, your heart might start racing just a bit at the prospect of something tasty: perhaps some fresh baked goods or maybe some organic fruit or quality dark chocolate. If you do live at our house, you know better. Your heart usually starts racing out of fear. This "something else fun" could be anything and it is most likely something that the majority of society thinks is gross: pickled herring, spicy dilled vegetables, seaweed salad, stinky cheese, matzo balls, wasabi peas, sauer kraut, anchovy paste. Oh, the possibilities. "What is it?" I ask cautiously. "I got us some goat's milk!" he exclaims just like he would exclaim "I just found 20 bucks in my pocket!" Life with Go is never boring. Thank goodness.

The Flood

My old stomping grounds in Iowa are under water. I keep looking at pictures on different sites and though I keep seeing the same exact thing, which are buildings and streets and homes and cars underwater, I can't stop even though it just sickens my heart.

This is where everyone except me would buy their scrapbooking stuff. My friends in Iowa were very scrapbooky and they made the most beautiful things with the products they bought here. I bet some of them went to this huge closeout sale.


That red brick building in the back is where Go would go with his study buddies to "study," which come to find out, really meant eat lots and lots of chicken wings.



My Mom bought me a big glazed ochre planter from this garden shop when she helped us move into our little condo there six years ago. It was such a cute little shop.



Though it wasn't my favorite place (only because of my low and wimpy tolerance for their horrible, awful winters) I hold a place in my heart for Iowa. It is where both of my babies were born and where Go labored and learned. I only know a hand full of people that are still there, since the majority of our friends were generally made up of transient medical, dental and law students but I hope my pals still there are ok. The few I have heard from are fine but many have had to leave. I hope they have dry homes and a strong community when they get back. If how I perceived the folks of Iowa to be is correct, they will get through this--they are strong, kind and hard working and I hope it doesn't take long for them to rebuild their cities. I saddens me to see such awful images and I'm so grateful that my friends are safe.

Today's Reason for My Ever Present Water Retention

I just ingested 80% of my daily sodium allowance in one sitting with a bowl of this.

They should include a diuretic with this soup. Like tape a water pill to the side of the can or something.

That was marketing genius right there, just in case you missed it.

Perhaps the Key to a Healthy Self Esteem

Ruby got a bike for her birthday. Naturally, she received a helmet and knee pads too. After excitedly opening them up, she placed the helmet on her head and ran to the mirror to see herself. After several seconds of silence, I heard a burst of laughter come from the bathroom.

Me: What is it?
Ruby: I look so silly!
Me: It's ok to look silly sometimes.
Ruby: I know. I don't really care if people think I look silly. I just thought I looked silly and that's ok. I just don't want to care about what people think I look like.

There have been very few moments when I actually think I'm doing my children some good by being their mother. This was one of those times. And I broke down right then and there with tears of pride rolling down my cheeks.

This attitude I have successfully passed down to Ruby must be rubbing off on May as well--yesterday she wore nothing but her underwear and Ruby's new knee pads for a full three hours.

Several Things To Address This Morning

1. No. My anniversary post was in no way a pregnancy announcement. But that would have been pretty funny if it was, though.

2. Yes, I am aware I have my word verification enabled. Hopefully you all are better at figuring out the letters than I am. You probably are. If enough of you aren't though, I will consider unenabling it and just letting Davi from Brazil leave comments in broken English about his exciting enterprises. They're kind of entertaining, actually.

3. I really want to have a Bad Dance Party where everyone could come and show off their worst white-man dancing skillz. The Running Man. The Roger Rabbit. All while shutting your eyes and biting your bottom lip, of course. With lots of snapping and clapping, too. I think it would be such a fun party and no one would be scared or intimidated to dance because the worse you dance, the better you would be. The absolute worst dancer of the night would win the grand prize, which would be a giant loaf of Wonder Bread. Go is all for it. We really want to do it. The few people I have talked to about this idea didn't get too excited. I got responses like "Would I be doing this sober? I don't know..." and "It would be fun to watch..." So I am setting a poll on my sidebar. I want honest answers people, because I'm not going to go through the trouble of planning a (rad) party if people think it's a lame-o idea.

4. Right now there is a bee in my house, just buzzing around and taunting me with his little stingy self. I am more afraid of bees than any other insect, even spiders. Today I am grateful for fly swatters.

Word Verificationqpfwvrl

Dear bloggy friends with enabled word verification,

I have to type in that gobbledygook at least three times when I leave a comment on your blog which leaves me a little frustrated sometimes. I just thought you'd like to know because maybe it would make my comments to you seem that much sweeter and precious. I'm not blaming you for enabling your word verification; it is most disconcerting when Davi from Sao Paulo, Brazil has an exciting enterprise he wants to share with you and likes your site and will add you to his blogroll immediately. I just wish I was able to either type jibberjabber words more accurately or be able to decipher what the letters actually are when they're all slanted and squished together, that's all.

I'd also like you to know that when I get to like, the fourth time of having to enter in all that nonsense into the verification box, I either go back to my comment, add a little more sass and go back and try again or just give up all together, which is sad when that happens because you never even get to read the sassy goodness that I was going leave you five minutes before I hurled my keyboard across the room.

Sincerely,
The deep lunger who is currently sporting a unitard and super gluing her computer back together piece by piece

We Make Quite a Pair, He and I

Yesterday, I was presented with these:

An IZZE drink for every year that I have "made his lizz-ife sizzle."

To which I romantically replied "Oh, you totally have to see the anniversary post on my blog."
Lucky number seven was a ghetto-fabulous anniversary indeed.

Happy Anniversary to Us

Seven whole years and we're not even itchy.

Prolly cuz I his baby mama.If you think I'm incapable of just posting something nice and normal,
last year's wedding anniversary post was much more dignified.

Being Two is Funny

About a week ago, I was going to shower (and I've showered since then. Shut up! I swear I have.) so I turned on the TV in our bedroom like I always do, to keep the girls occupied and distract them from destroying the house, which they are capable of doing in the 7 minutes it takes for me to shower. The only thing on was Sponge Bob, so I turned it to the channel and upon seeing the yellow little guy, May screamed "Sponge Bob Queer Pants!"


A couple of days after that while preparing for my shower, I put on Wonder Pets. May started singing "Under Pants, Under Pants, We're on our way!" Come to find out, she had a little help learning the song from her father, who I caught singing it over and over yesterday.


After dumping out my church bag and sifting through its contents yesterday, May found a picture that she had semi-colored in Nursery awhile ago of Jesus sitting with a couple of children. She came to show it to me.
Me: (pointing to the picture) May, who is that?
May: Regis.
Me: Who?
May: Regis.
Me: You mean Jesus?
May: Yah, Regis. I love Regis.
Me: He loves you, too.
May: Yah, Regis loves me, too.

Birds! Continued

Here's the bird painting.

I did the bottom layer in acrylics and then went in with oils on top in parts. I like some of it. Like with every painting I do, there are a bunch of things that bug me. Take my initials down in the corner. I never sign my stuff because I feel like it takes away from the images but this time, I decided to just do it but now I regret it, so I might just paint over my initials down there in the right hand corner--like I needed to tell you where they were. You really can't miss them. Once I paint over my initials and that's dry, I need to decide where to put it in my house. It's like 18"x24" I think. For those of you who have been in my house, I'm open to suggestions.

So I made 5 of these last night, all different sorts of bird silhouettes.

When I went to peel off my masked off areas this morning, a bunch of paint came off with it, making the bird have a weird, fat beak and deformed legs. A total bust. I might try to touch them up, though. Or I might just throw them in the trash. Hmph.