New shoes

On Black Friday we stopped at a children's shoe store, because Peter busted out of all his shoes on Thanksgiving. (Wednesday they fit, Thursday his feet expanded overnight and could not be crammed into his shoes one more day.)  At the store, Greg requested a pair of shoes with flashing lights in the soles. Peter, always right behind Greg, said oooooh, me too!!! 

You can see where this is going, right?

The store did not have a single pair of the flashing light shoes in Greg's size, although there were a plethora in Peter's size.  As soon as salesperson said, nope, no pairs in a size 13, not in any brand, my heart sank.  Because Peter was ecstatic over his flashing shoes and no way would he be persuaded into something else.

 Greg was despondent. He let everyone in the store know how despondent he was.  He also desponded himself the whole ride home.  He talked about nothing else the entire weekend.

In the retelling of this story twenty years from now, I doubt that Greg will say "my mom had them call all 8 other stores in the tri-state area, and they were all out of my size."  Nor will he remember that we drove home and I ordered a (more expensive!) pair  from Zappos an hour later. (They arrived last night. This morning was like Christmas, he was so excited.)  No, the only part of the story that will get told was that YOU BOUGHT PETER FLASHING SHOES AND NOT ME.  

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Patterns and crappy furniture

When you go to law school, one of the first things you learn to do is look for patterns.  These things are alike because of x, these things are different because of y.  For example, if I have a red apple, a green apple, and a red pomegranate, which ones go in the basket of like items? Depends on what the "like items" are.  I can put in two apples.  Or I could put in a red apple and a red pomegranate, if the like items are limited to red items.  I could put in both apples and the pomegranate, if the like items are pieces of fruit.  Can I put a melon in the basket of fruit?  How about a tomato?  What if the basket is fruit with thin skins, what has to come out?  And so on and so forth.

I have yet to figure out the pattern of where to drop Greg off in the morning.  Inside the front entrance or outside on the playground, its a mystery.  The school is (roughly) L-shaped, and the two drop off sites are at opposite ends. If we pick the wrong one we have to walk all the around the entire school. The past few weeks we have had:
* 34 degrees and sunny = inside
* 42 degrees, lightly drizzling = outside
* 35 degrees, ground damp from overnight rain, but not currently raining = inside
* 35 degrees, ground damp from overnight rain, not currently raining = outside
* 33 degrees, overcast = outside
* 45 degrees, drizzling = inside
* this morning was 32 degrees and sunny = inside

Anyone know what the pattern is?  I'm ok with raining = inside, sunny = outside, but as you can see above, that doesn't seem to be the rule.  As far as I can tell, the rule is flip a coin.

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Its not a holiday weekend unless I am building a POS from Ikea.  True to form, I built a dresser this weekend.

I have no quibble with the style of Ikea.  I think its stylish, modern, and inexpensive. We have plenty of furniture from Ikea. I am slowly trying to replace our Ikea furniture with better pieces, generally thrifted from Craigslist, but I needed a long low dresser to go in the Mister's closet, so I went with the readily available item from Ikea.

I do NOT think Ikea furniture is sturdy or well made.  I have thrown out a lot of Ikea furniture over the years. Just a few months ago we threw out the boys' Hemnes dresser because it literally fell apart--the side supports cracked and separated from the body of the dresser, and it was unfixable.  When we moved, the moving company had us sign a form saying that if any Ikea furniture broke in the move was not their fault.

I have built so many pieces of furniture from Ikea over the past ten years I've gotten rather good at it. I sit down, read the directions, separate all the pieces into piles that will be used in order, and put all the screws and widgets in the same order that they are in the instruction booklet.  It generally goes pretty quickly.

 Even when it goes well, I spend a fair amount of time cursing the Swedish population and their flatpack engineering.  And then, there are times like this, when words do not adequately convey my rage:

Duct tape to the rescue.

Of course, its in the front, and visible.  Le sigh.

My goal in life is to own furniture I don't have to build myself.

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Family pics: the annual baring of teeth

On Thanksgiving morning we got all dressed up for a family photo.  We took eleventy-gazillion pictures.  There is not a single usable picture of the three of them together---someone is blinking/picking their nose/crying/looking away/lunging out of the picture in every single one.  We did get a few nice ones of the boys.  Princess was...eh...not in the mood.  I'm not happy with the lighting and shadow (and do not own Photoshop nor know how to use it), so I don't think any of these will be showing up on the Christmas card.

From the blooper and bad lighting reel:

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Food coma

omg, food coma.

We had a crudite/cheese/fruit course, and antipasti (olives, sopressata, bread, eggplant, shitake mushrooms, mushroom caps), pasta with lobster sauce, then the turkey with stuffing, sweet potatoes, and a bunch of other stuff I'm blanking on, then a salad course, then pumpkin bread pudding, cheesecake, brownies and coffee for dessert.

It doesn't sound like as much food when I list it.  But I assure you, it was. Actually, it was a fairly small meal, comparatively. (Christmas Eve's Feast of the Seven Fishes is a dinner that last about six hours and you won't eat for two days after.) Greg took a break after the antipasti, came back to the table, and cried "someone took away my first dinner! I'm not ready for second dinner yet!"  When we were eating dessert, he came back for "third dinner. Plus dessert.  Then some more third dinner." As we were cleaning up, he said, "how about some more third dinner?  I want more meat."

Since our families are about two hours apart, we used to have a first Thanksgiving dinner, then drive to the next Thanksgiving dinner.  But then we had kids and decided to split up the holidays on a schedule.  Thanksgiving was my family, Easter was my in-laws.  About two years ago, however, we ended up at my family for Easter, and I had forgotten how much fun it was for kids.  I have a zillion cousins so there is an Easter Egg hunt, and an egg-throwing contest from the second floor.  So, this year we decided to switch it up and spend Thanksgiving with my inlaws, and Easter with my family.

My inlaws are amazing cooks.  I haven't had my mother in law's stuffing in about five years, and OMG SO FREAKING GOOD.  But, food coma.  I've learned my lesson a long time ago--its a rookie mistake to eat too much antipasti.  Pace yourself, there are always at least 3 courses for holiday dinners, and more food than you can shake a stick at--but I stuffed myself today like I haven't in a long time.  I even held back on the lobster pasta, knowing how much more was to come.  But I wished I had worn my eating pants.

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I am grateful.

For so many things, but here are just a few.

For these little guys:

For this guy, who works so hard so I can be home with our kids, who turns a blind eye to my decorating obsession, who does everything he can think of to make my life wonderful:

For living in Craptasticville.  Not that I like Craptasticville, but living here means that we are all together as a family again, that the Mister is no longer commuting 5+ hours per day, and that my generous in-laws had the space for us.

For my sister, who has moved much closer and now I can nag her into visiting us ALL THE TIME.

For blogging, because it has made me start taking 1000+ pictures a month of my kids and our life.  I don't think I have a 1000 pictures of the previous five years.  Sorry, Greg, for not documenting the first five years of your life.  (I'm not saying they are all in focus or good pictures, but hey, better a blurry picture than none at all.)

Happy Thanksgiving!

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Angry birds

Guess who just learned to play Angry Birds?

And who's kicking ass and taking names?

And has advanced levels beyond his father?  (And is telling his father "be quiet, please" in the below picture?)

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more potty training, cuz that's what we do around here. And Christmas!

fyi, all posts for the foreseeable future will be about potty training. Because it is SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF ME.

Yesterday I was  0 for 3.  I hovered and hovered and when I changed the Princess's diaper he took advantage of the 30 seconds I wasn't watching him to pee in his pants.

After dinner I watched carefully for signs of impending poop, but he read Hop on Pop (ha, I totally typed Hop on Poop there) to himself.  No grunting, no funny faces.  And then I find he stealthily pooped in his pants while reading to himself.

And then he was a lunatic, running around without pants on, screaming "I'm a pirate! I find pirate treasure!" and stops dead in his tracks and pees on the carpet.  Not the treasure I was expecting.

All "do you have to pee-pee?" questions are met with NO.  So I'm thinking maybe his word can't be trusted.

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I'm looking for  dessert recipes for Thanksgiving.  I told my mother in law I would make a pumpkin bread pudding and a flourless chocolate torte.  I have the pumpkin bread pudding recipe but all recipes for flourless chocolate tortes appear to be beyond my limited baking capabilities.  Brownies from a box, anyone?

If anyone has a chocolatey something recipe that does not involve lots of dairy or nuts I'm all ears.
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I went Christmas shopping today.  Apparently so did everyone else.  Target was packed.

I like shopping, ordinarily.  But I like shopping on Tuesday mornings at 9 am.  Shopping with hordes of other people, all of them standing in front of me in the Starbucks line, the store looking like its been picked over by a pack of rabid wolves, makes me sweaty and sort of claustrophobic.  

I'm not the kind of person who will abandon a fully loaded cart if there are more than two people in front of me in line, muttering imprecations about how inconsiderate the other people are to be out shopping when I am.  But I don't particularly enjoy the manic rush of Christmas shopping.  I find I do more and more shopping online.  Amazon carries just about everything you could ever want.

I am looking for some good ideas for Christmas for kids.  My kids are into anything dinosaurs, Handy Manny, more dinosaurs, and dinosaurs.  Also, dinosaurs.  And cranes and winches.  If you find a dinosaur who is building something with a crane and a winch, that would be perfect.

I would like a potty-trained 3 year old for Christmas. (Not *your* potty-trained three year old, I have enough three year olds around here. But if you want to come over and convince Peter to start using the potty on a regular basis, I'm all for it.)

What do you want for Christmas?

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Reservoir Dogs, toddler edition

We visited our friends Kevin and Marisa in South Jersey today, and had an awesome time.  The brunch was delicious and the kids had a blast.  It was so nice to see them, I really miss hanging out with them.

A few weeks ago Greg went to a cousin's birthday party, and the cousin asked for a GI Joe gun, which greatly puzzled Greg---the cousin is a girl, and in Greg's mind, a gun is clearly a boy's toy.  (I'm doing a great job on the gender-neutral parenting, apparently.)  Ever since the party, he has been asking for a gun.  But Grandma is not a fan of toy guns, and while they don't really bother me, I've haven't gotten any for Greg.

However, our friend's three year old son H is apparently a weapons enthusiast.  Plenty of laser guns, light-sabers, swords, and my favorite, a mace.  Ha, a mace.  Every three year old needs a mace.

Greg and Peter were much enthralled with the killing and shooting and general mayhem:

nobody move, nobody gets hurt

Peter and H were superheros (the napkins over the eyes/head are masks):

Greg and H toasted each other--cheers!

Isn't little miss C adorable?  She's half the Princess's age but has twice the hair.

doesn't this look like a glamour shot?

Big sister A:

More fun toys to play with!  Peter gave a gasp of delight when finding a cache of Handy Manny tools and workbench in H's room.

Slack-jawed, watching tv. With weapons.

Listening to the Jets game on the way home.  They won!

.

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Kindergarten dance = awesome

Last night we went to a PTA dance at the elementary school.  I had about as much desire to attend a dance for kindergarteners as I did for attending dances in high school--that is to say, none.  Greg is also not a fan of crowds, loud noises, or doing anything new (just like his mother), so I didn't tell him about it until an hour before.  He spent the following hour stomping about the house, "I won't go! I'm just going to stay home! You go without me! I will be absent! Its past my bedtime!"

Telling him he could bring a flashlight while we walked to school in the dark changed his mind.  Flashlights are cool.  He spent the whole walk to school saying "ooh, I'm scared. Its spooky. I've never been out this late before."

We walked into the dance and immediately he cried. "I want to go home."  Loud noises + lots of people = Greg wants to leave.  We sat on the chairs on the side for a few minutes.  Then Greg's little buddies, T and Z found us.  T and Z were dancing like maniacs, the music changed to a song that Greg knew, and all of a sudden it was a-ok.

The little guy danced his little booty off.  Omg, watching kindergarteners dance is so funny. (The picture quality is not so great, since I was taking pics of moving children in a dark gym, but you get the general idea.)

that's my son, free-stylin'. All that's missing is cardboard and a boombox.

This video is sideways but may give you some idea of the frantic energy that is Greg dancing:

Greg's favorite part of the dance?  "The bracelet."  (It was a plastic lei.)

The Chipmunks covering Led Zeppelin's Rock and Roll is not something I ever thought I'd hear (this is a great song, but why does Robert Plant sound like he sucked on helium?).  There was the Cha-cha Slide, which I had never heard of, but all the kids looked like those Filipino prisoners in Manila putting on Thriller.

The DJ played some great dance songs, we boogied all night long (well, an hour anyways).  We had mozzarella cheese sticks and cupcakes and cookies and potato chips and 77 glasses of water, because dancing is hot, sweaty, strenuous work.

After an hour of pretty much non-stop aerobic activity, Greg flamed out.  "I'm ready to go home now!" Right as Sweet Caroline came on.  That's one of my favorite songs.  It made me realize that a) we haven't been out dancing in, oh, 87 years, b) I don't think I've ever heard that song while sober (shoutout to the Jersey Shore circa 1999!) , and c) its been forever and a day since I've had a beer.  The Mister found the song on Pandora on his phone and we sang it all the way home.  It was a fitting end for a fun evening.

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pretty curtains

I love pretty curtains. Love them.  Lately I have been loving giant florals and ikats.  Sadly I only have one giant floral in my house, everything else is plain Jane.

Here are some pretties in my inspiration folder:

From 6th Street Design School.  Aren't these gorgeous with the pillows?

I like these so much I have saved them twice. Here they are from Odi et Amo's family room, and again, I love them with the pillows (Chiang Mai dragon!).  Actually, I love everything about this room:

Also from 6th Street Design School, and I know I've posted these before, but clearly I really like them. I love the floral with the ribbon-trimmed roman shade:

From Chinoiserie Chic:

Another one I've included before (from Emily A. Clark) but I came very close to getting this Wilmington Covington fabric for my own curtains:

And these from Rambling Renovators:

Here's a great website with awesome curtains I stumbled across today when reading Fresh Nest Design:

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