Saturday, February 26, 2011

8 plus 2

makes ten.  That's eight inches of madness plus two inches of "I'll fix it".  That's eight inches of regret plus two inches of "I can make this better".  That's eight inches of bad impulse decisions plus two inches of "I can't take it anymore".

Which all adds up to ten cumulative inches of hair in my trash can, ten inches less hair on my head.

Pictures. You want pictures?  Well, I tried to have my local amateur photographer take some, but she doesn't always push the button down hard enough so then I have to reach out and help her and then... well the shots we get aren't always glamorous.  But here you go.

Maybe I'll try again later.

So I blame my mother for most of this. And my childhood. (Love you mom.)  See, growing up my mom cut my hair.  I have never put much thought into my hair beyond: I like it long, and mom cuts it.  End of story.

Turns out that Nebraska is a little far away for my mom to be coming out here to cut my hair.  Turns out I have two children now who like to twirl and twist my hair.  And so I knew it needed to be cut.  I kept thinking I would go get it done, you know, somewhere like Great Clips.

Then, a week and a half ago on that windy Wednesday, I sat looking at the dead ends in despair.  The next thing I knew, chop chop went the scissors and I was looking at eight inches of my hair, sitting in my hand.  Not much to do but finish the job at that point. Then a week and a day later, this past Thursday, I tried to even it out. (The left side was a full two inches longer.  Oops.)  Now I don't even know what it looks like, and I'm almost past caring. Almost.  Contact me in a week to see if I've cut off another two inches.

Hair grows back, right?

Friday, February 25, 2011

I Heart Bums

 I love these little bums. These tiny hineys, if you will.  And clearly I'm not afraid to show it.  I'm glad my pants don't have a heart on the bum though, not gonna lie about that.

I love these little faces, too.
It's the weekend!!

Monday, February 21, 2011

Introducing This Guy

A few months ago, try 4? 5? 6? I had some responsibility at church that required me to be there in the evening. I no longer remember all of the details, but for whatever reason Devin and the girls came along.  They played in the nursery while I did whatever it was I had to do and then we all went home and put the girls to bed.

It was an evening like many others that we have spent, it was ordinary in so many ways.  But as I was changing Hanna's diaper, all of that changed.  And my life may never be the same again.

For as I opened it up, do you know what fell out?  This guy.

Yeah. And I thought, my baby is a thief. We have to take this back. I can't believe she stole from the church.

But as I finished changing her diaper I began to ask myself if they were really going to want it back. I  mean, he came home in her diaper, ya know?*

So we've kept him.  I find him all over the house.  He just keeps popping up.  I think of him as my little house gnome. You know, a house gnome makes a house a home.  He's my good luck charm.
I'm getting really excited.  I'm looking forward to when Hallie and Hanna start bringing boyfriends home.  Gnome will be conveniently lying around somewhere, sort of conspicuously inconspicuous, and the boyfriend will ask, "Oh, what's this?" and I'll tell him about how Gnome came home in Hanna's diaper, and speaking of diapers wouldn't he just love to look at pictures of way back when they were such cute babies? Oh look, scrapbooks are right here.  Let's just get cozy for a minute while dinner's cooking Look at this... Perfect.  If he can withstand that, I'll know.

Oh yeah, so you're wondering about those bands tied around him? Check it out:

*How he got in Hanna's diaper remains a mystery.  She was wearing a onesie, so had no immediate access to her diaper area.  He was clearly not swallowed, as he had definitely not come out in her bowels.  Her diaper was, in fact, dry and empty.  Except for Gnome.  I can only imagine she was wearing her diaper somewhat loosely, and slipped the gnome down the front of her onesie, and Gnome lodged in her diaper.  Sneaky little girl.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Photo Catalog

Hallie takes more pictures.  Great job, kid. Seriously.

The car after our trip to Kansas City.  Cleaning it out was the last thing on our minds as we drove into the garage.

Hanna went to the doctor today. She had been anemic. She's better now.

Hallie went to the doctor later that same day. She'd been experiencing a high level of intense gastrointestinal distress that I could no longer live with.  (what I'm trying to say is we were all tired of her being constipated.)

I cut off large chunks of my hair in a fit of winter madness on Wednesday.
We had a brush of nice weather, but it left me confused. Too warm for my boots, still too cold for sandals.  I was too tired to sort it out, so I went deep into my closet and pulled out my old indoor soccer shoes. I've been saving them for years, why not wear them every now and then?

 And Devin's book was published.  Well, the book he wrote a chapter for.  You can buy it here at  It's selling for $199 but you can get it for $165 new and $291.68 used.  That's not a typo.  Or if it is, it's not mine. That's what it says on Amazon.  His chapter is called "Overview of Dietary Fiber and Its Influence on Gastrointestinal Health".  It's a truly compelling read, I'm sure.

Friday, February 18, 2011


There are two things in this world that nobody doesn't love: Sara Lee, and free vacations.

There are two things that I have always known about Devin.  He is very good looking, and has always wanted to be a professor.  That is why it came as no surprise to me when he applied for a job as a professor, nor when he was offered the job, nor when he accepted it.  What has come as a surprise is how often he is gone for conferences and meetings.  So whenever he has one that is within driving distance, I pack up the girls and we go with him.  That's how I found myself driving to Kansas City for what I thought would be a nice, free vacation on Wednesday afternoon.

I'm going to take a moment right now to tell you about my Valentine's day.  We woke up and it was a beautiful morning, so I went with the girls to the park with some friends.  We came home and we all took nice long naps.  Devin came home from work and I had made a delicious dinner.  Shortly after dinner I got sick. Very, very disgustingly sick. I will spare you the details, but just know that I was not a well person.  Tuesday morning and I was still sick, so I spent all day practicing my parenting of least resistance, when to my horror, Hallie got sick.  I told myself to "grow up and be the mom", so I did. 

Wednesday came around and Devin said if we still weren't feeling well he would go on his trip without us.  Hallie and I put on brave faces - because I was going to have my free vacation.

Turns out it was more like a flu-cation.  About halfway to Kansas City Devin knew he was going to be sick.  We got to the hotel, put the girls in bed, and then I spent the rest of the night worrying about Devin and trying to take care of him. He has never been sick like this since I've known him - in fact, I've never seen anyone sick like this.  After each, let's call it "episode", his skin would turn a creepy yellow color, and he would sweat all over even though he was shaking from being so cold.  His hands were cramped up into claws that he could not feel, move or uncurl.

What are the symptoms of shock, again? 

This happened each time, over and over again all through the night.

After a ridiculously long night, through which, miraculously, both girls slept perfectly, we woke up and I was sick again.  Devin skipped his conference, and we drove home as soon as I was feeling well enough to be able to do so safely.

I think we're all finally coming back to health, but I think it will be while before I go on another of Devin's conferences.  But I will tell you this. If you have to be sick away from home, Kansas City is a really nice place to do it in.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Christmas Songs

I was driving through a quaint little part of Lincoln earlier this week and strung between two lampposts was a huge sign that said, "Seasons Greetings".  Apparently someone was a little slow this year taking down the decorations.  (The sign said "seasons" not "season's" just so you know.)

Thanks to Hallie we've still been feeling quite a bit of the Christmas season around here as well.  Every single night before bed since before Christmas she has requested that I sing "Silent Night", or as she calls it, "the Jesus song" - because, as she assures me, it is Jesus' favorite song.  I didn't know that, but I am perfectly willing to believe it.

Not only does she request that I sing that to her at night, but she is still joyfully wandering around the house singing Christmas songs at top volume for all in the house to enjoy.  I thought I'd share with you some of her "creative" lyrics. For your convenience I have put the traditional lyrics on the other side.

Then one froggy Christmas Eve                            Then one foggy Christmas Eve
and they shouted out with leaves                           and they shouted out with glee
the stars in the Devin                                            the stars in the heaven
till morning is night                                               till morning is nigh
Frosting the snowman                                          Frosty the snowman

Has anyone in your house been caught singing Christmas songs?

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Tunas, Whales, and Blondes.

When I was 11? 14? One of those awkward ages I signed up for reasons inexplicable to participate in a talent show. I had no talent, but somehow I was talked into just telling jokes.  Blonde jokes, of course, since I knew so many of those.  The big day arrived, and soon it was my turn up on stage.  I was introduced, and people were on the edges of their seats, prepared to laugh uproariously at my sparkling wit and smooth delivery.  I stood in front of the microphone and stared at their eager faces.  I gazed blankly into their expectant eyes.  I had no idea what I was supposed to say.  Fumbling, grasping for any words at all, I finally muttered, "Um, I forgot my joke."
Wild laughter broke out amid thunderous applause.  I was a hit. They loved me.  I was smart enough to recognize that this would be a one hit wonder and retreated to my seat before they saw through me.

I've never really managed to escape from the stereotype that my hair casts me into.  Every time we move somewhere new I manage to do or say something that has people nodding knowingly while glancing surreptitiously at my scalp.

I clearly remember the afternoon when I learned that Rice Krispies are in fact made out of rice.  I was in college.  I made quite a scene.

The other night we had some people over to our house.  After they had left I asked Devin if he thought everyone had had a good time. He said, "Yeah, I think it was good. Except for when you started talking about tuna and whales." 

Apparently tuna and whales are two different creatures.  Who knew?

I know, I  know. You did, just like all of my friends at our house that night.  I think sometimes that everyone has a copy of the book "Common Knowledge" that they read every night before bed and somehow my copy got lost in the mail.

I have no concept of how long a yard is, or what the government of Australia is.  I sometimes get confused about the exact difference between a turkey and a rooster.  A hen I'm clear on though, thanks.

Maybe I should just do what that one guy did, and read the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica.  Hey mom, remember when you offered me our entire set of encyclopedias? I changed my mind. I'll take them.  Thanks.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Identity Crisis

Did you miss me?  Probably not.  But boy oh boy have I missed my blog.  The poor thing has been going through a bit of an identity crisis.  Or, if you don't think blogs can have those then let's say that the part of me that writes this blog has been going through an identity crisis.

I think it really all goes back to this post, when I discovered the world of blogs.  Until that point I had believed that I was simply one of many, many women who write blogs that are pretty much all exactly like mine.  So imagine my surprise when I realized that this was not the case, not at all.

Sure, there are hundreds of women who write blogs just like mine, but there are also some women who get paid to write their blogs.  There are people who have photography blogs, and craft blogs, and mod podge blogs and sewing blogs and food blogs and so much more!

And I guess discovering that the blogging world was not one dimensional like I had always thought it was, but rather three dimensional made me feel flat.  Boring.  What is the point of my blog anyway? I didn't know, but I kept writing in it because that's what I like to do.

Until this article came out. And then this blogger, who happens to be my favorite wrote this post.  And then I, I mean my blog, really started to fall apart.

I felt like I didn't know what my purpose was, I didn't know who my audience was, I didn't know who I was.  Identity crisis, see I told you.

And so, I have decided.  This is a photography blog if I take a picture that I really like. And it is a food blog if I cook/bake something that I really like. And it is a crafting blog if I make something that I really like.  And it is a mommy blog if the kids do something funny/crazy/exasperating that I really like/don't like.  And in between, it is the place where I come to relax my brain by letting all the thoughts that crowd me in have a place to go.  How does that sound?

And so, I hope, I'm back.  I mean, my blog is back.  Whatever.

Is it weird if I want my blog to have a mission statement?  And did you manage to click on all my awesome links?