Picstures

I'm having art troubles. I may have to beg science to take me back, unless I find something non-production related that I can live with. Art history, maybe? We might be pulling everything out of storage pretty soon, so once I can bury myself in Janson's History of Art again we'll see if I can live with that. I don't want to say this out loud, but, people, I've lost my design groove and I'm afraid I may never get it back. Directing the art was glorious, but making the art is painful. Anyway, here are some photos from this weekend. See? I can't even deal with color right now, that's how bad it is. And I know the cropping on the first photo is off, but the actual photo is weird since it's a self-shot portrait. Sorry if you're a photo-clicker-onner, but I'm too inartistic to re-size images tonight. Try to enjoy, regardless.

Me and Frank and a lot of diapers. That just about says it all.



If you ever want to see Frank in a good mood, put him in the same room with Olivia.



I never thought having a little boy would be so wonderful.



My kids refuse to sit still and purposely smile for the camera, but I love this photo.

Holiday. Celebrate.

I came into the bedroom to be alone (foiled!), watch part of the Barcelona game, eat my noodle soup, and write about how my kids have next to no idea who the Easter Bunny is. This is a triple egg hunt weekend. One at Nico's school (La Petite throws a mean Spring Fling), one at Herb's son and daughter-in-law's, and one here later today. I will never argue with the kids going on a little discovery mission, but I have no intention of ever telling them a giant rabbit in a bow tie is the one responsible for the fun. Nor will I ever have my children tugging at my hand begging to know if Santa Claus really exists. And the Tooth Fairy? She's a waste of my time.

I don't feel that great about faking out my kids around the holidays. It's just not that much fun for me. At the same time, I don't plan on raising them to spoil the illusion for other kids. They'll just learn that some people believe in certain things, and that they aren't expected to automatically follow along with the crowd. Husband dons a black "Fuck Columbus Day" t-shirt in mid-October, and that's fine. He agrees with me on the pointlessness of a lot of the exhaustive commercial hype surrounding what really should be a simple celebration of the Earth at certain times of the year (or every day, for that matter). If religion happens to come into play for some people, then that's great. That's just not where we tend to put most of our emphasis, which I think is also fine.

On holidays, while we enjoy festive decorations and a nice meal with our family, our private ritual is more of an explanation to the babes about what's happening in the natural world. Later at night, after the kids are asleep, hubby and I crack some beers and chat about which trees and flowers are blooming, or admire the loveliness of the harvest moon. It's sweet, it's simple, and to us, it matters. I think that's really where the joy is found. It's in creating the kind of relationship you want your kids to have with what's going on in their community and the world around them, and then savoring your own appreciation in your own way, together.

Among my circle of friends, there are many who feel the same way. The importance of showing our kids what is real and what is fake, sparking a year-round interest in nature, and guiding them in the direction of a more universal truth... those are the things that matter the most. ** Late note... when I say this, I mean letting kids know there's more to holidays than gifts, that it's more about people and what matters to you and your own family ** As for the candy-filled eggs hidden out back and the two buckets of goodies out on the living room table... the kids know that is the work of the master spoiler, Grandmom. I don't mind. I will never, ever argue with jelly beans and Snickers. Oh, and fuzzy bunny ears? Acceptable and adorable year 'round.

Closest I will ever get to moving to the west coast

Due to a swift (but kind) double-pouncing regarding my recent blog deletions, here's one more tonight for ma' ladies. I feel guilty for messing with your reading. I'm sorry. And you know I don't apologize for much. I write this with extra lovin'.

What makes a good night even more gooder? Cocktails. I know you feel me.

At the end of last year, we had a 40th birthday party for my sister. Please note, I have three older sisters and only one of them got a party because I totally play favorites. (I also have two younger sisters from another mother -- my poor brother, he has six sisters! -- and I'd also throw them parties in a heartbeat.) At said party, my sister made me one of her favorite drinks, a Washington apple martini. Now I'm not big on martinis in general, but I have made an exception in this case. Me likey. Tonight I decided to make myself one, and looked up the recipe. The page to which I was led had a special little note to rim the glass with cinnamon sugar. Ohhh yes.

So there I stood in the kitchen, neatly rimming my glass, my family busting on my skills the entire time. Ouch, being teased for rimming a glass too well? I've heard worse. I made my drink and sat down at the dinner table, only to have Godzilla knock over my martini with the salt shaker. Grr. Wait, correction, he put the salt shaker into my glass, realized the mistake, and continued to insult me by just saying fuck it and pulled the whole thing over sideways. Grr, grr! Needless to say my dinner was cut short by pajama time, and when I was done with that I made a fresh round of drinks. Please see below. Candle in the background was just mood luck.



Due to the fact that the apples are from Wegman's, the garnish is Gala from upstate NY. Trust me, though, if you're here to taste one on Saturday, you'll forgive me.

Back

I've been... not quite myself for a few days. Been feeling overwhelmed (like, heavy, heavy overwhelmed) by just about everything under the sun, but this morning I cried on the shoulders of my BFFs, and now I feel new again. Oh, the healing power of salt! Making me feel even better is the fact that both Jen and Liz called me out on deleting recent posts. Big sister is watching. I deleted two posts, and I had two that I never put up at all. Listen, I'm not perfect. I act on raw emotion from time to time, and I say and do plenty of ridiculous things. But I cannot recall another time when I just plain felt like I wasn't saying anything good, and I hated that. It has to feel like me when I am letting other people read, and it just didn't.

Business:
1. Olivia turns one year old on Monday. I will officially be the mom of two toddlers. What?!
2. It would seem I have lost (perhaps temporarily?) my passion for design production. It's so forced right now that I can't do the smallest job without hating every last bit of it. A fellow designer once had an Art Directors Club flyer on his cubby wall, and it had an amusing photo with this caption: Creating is easy. Just stare at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead. That is exactly how I feel right now.
3. I'd love to once again have a regular job. See above to explain why this causes so much conflict.

Holy shirt

Please see below, the gift my mother-in-law sent me from Peru. I worship it.



Caption is "Peru Fashion". It's a bald alpaca scowling at an Inca (who's wearing a chullo, no less) who has seemingly made a sweater from his rich, luxe alpaca fur. This shirt is hilarious to Peruvians, to those who love them, and to people who knit and/or love alpaca sweaters. Oh, and those who love it as much as I do when a cartoon animal makes an angry face.

This little number had me cracking up on and off for at least 20 minutes. Don't get me started about the bird (cockatoo, parrot maybe?), or about what is up with my pose. I'd like to think we are both just mixing it up a little.

Hi, hon.

Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to look up from my computer and see this?