My cousin and her family are up this week from California. My grandmother lives right on the 'beach' (mudflats). While a lot of people think mudflats are kind of gross, they are PERFECT kid beaches. Sand forever, not a lot to hurt your feet on, and the water (when you finally reach it) is nice and warm.

We got in some great playtime.

On the way home, G said 'I had a great day today.'

We did. We really did.

For more play, jump on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry for You Capture.


Dewey Decimal is An A-hole.

I've been working on budgeting better and was looking at expenses - and noticed that hoooo doggies, I spend a lot on books. Too much.

So I decided to get me a library card. I found our local library system online and signed up - and the card came in the mail yesterday. It said all I needed to do was show up with picture i.d. and my card and I'd be golden.

Here's what I forgot about public libraries. Since I actually haven't set foot inside one in um, ten or so years.

You can't find shit.

That is, unless you're good friends with Dewey Decimal. And believe me, I would have no problem getting reacquainted with him, but stupid me, I brought my toddler to the library with me. I thought he'd be awestruck by all the books. That he'd sit down in a little beanbag chair and pore over all the wonderful picture books.

[Not my kid]

I had a rude awakening when I was reminded that my child is not, and will never be, that child. A library child. He's more of a let 'em loose in WalMart child. A park child. A circus child. Not a 'quiet place' child.

Especially a quiet place with a ginormous fish tank.

FIIIIIISSHHHHHH!!! Fish! Mommeeeee, fish!!

Yeah, I see them.

I figured out pretty quickly that the little list of books I wanted to find, so neatly tucked inside my purse, would be staying put. No books for me today.

We went directly to the children's section. Where my son decided to lie down on the floor and roll around. I grabbed for a couple books that looked semi interesting, scooped him up under my arm and made for the checkout counter.

All the way there, he made a racket. Mommeeeee! Books!! BOOOOOOKKEEEEES! Even the men at computers hunched over the free internet (porn) stopped and looked up.

My saving grace was that there were a few 'recommended' books right by checkout. And one was, in fact, on my little list.

Thank you God. I hope you don't mind me picking up a book that has 'blue balls' in the title. It's been a rough day.



For some reason unbeknownst to me, I have been on a organizational tear recently. This is far from normal for me. My house is all sorts or random and cluttered. Let me rephrase that - certain ROOMS of my house are straight out of Hoarders.

So I've been slowly (very slowly) tackling one project after another. I'm gearing up for a garage sale (hopefully soon) and am pretty proud of myself for getting rid of stuff. I come from a long line of collectors and it's hard for us to part with, um, everything. My grandma used to rinse out plastic baggies and foil and reuse them. I suppose you could say she was a pioneer of recycling. Or just that she was super frugal.

The latest room I'm trying to tackle is our office/guest room/scary catchall for the entire house that is like those closets that you open and a bunch of crap topples out - except its an entire room.

Last Fall, that room became my mother-in-law's, when she was undergoing chemo and radiation. Really going through everything, not just tossing things into boxes, like REALLY delving in - I'm not going to lie, it was really sad. Bits of her were still here. The informational booklets about lung cancer and quitting smoking. A binder full of information for caregivers. Tons of hand sanitizer. The flip flops she borrowed from me when putting shoes on became difficult. The flannel sheets my sister in law brought for her.

I got through everything that was for her. I threw out the information on cancer. I know enough about that asshole right now. Her sheets, I folded and put in the back of the closet. I put on the pink flip flops.

And I got back to work.

I dug in even further. Into the things I shoved into storage bins when she came to live with us. Things that I was working on, getting into, when we discovered she would be staying with us.

Everything on that's been on indefinite hold.

I found a packet from Seattle University with application materials for their accelerated teacher certification/master's program. Honestly, I had completely forgotten about looking into going back to school.

Also? All my 'craft' stuff. Not that I'm super crafty, but I have been known to make cards from time to time.

Then I pulled out all the fabric and thread I'd purchased because I was going to start sewing. My sewing machine was shoved underneath a desk.

I pulled all the sewing stuff out. I think it's time to take life off pause.

Last week, I signed up for a Sew Along over at my friend Andrea's blog (check it out!). I'm making the Daphne dress. The precut fabric came in the mail today. No excuses. Not sure who will benefit from my first attempt at sewing clothing (ha ha ha), but I'm thinking my niece will be the lucky recipient.

It's time to start ticking things off the list.



Black. And White.

Black and white. I just love it...it's so, well, CLEAN. Crisp.

We got out a lot this week, and I captured some wonderful moments.

At the zoo...kissing the hippopotamus statue.

At home, modeling the new big boy haircut.

Visiting Thomas the Tank engine...hanging out on the train.

For more black and white shots, scoot on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry for You Capture.


A Frat Boy Trapped in a Thirtysomething Mom's Body

The other night I was on Twitter, having a conversation with some girlfriends. Whoever follows me on Twitter, well, they probably think I'm mental. Because I won't go on Twitter for DAYS. Then, one night, I'll have like 50 tweets about random, random stuff.

Anyhow, the other night, the conversation somehow got to drinking (imagine). And I brought up beer bongs. And luges (I had to explain this one...you carve a 'luge' in a block of ice, then pour shots down the luge into a waiting mouth). And keg stands.

Then I made the suggestion that my friends make a beer bong and let their kids do hits off of it with root beer, then have a burping contest.

And with that, I nominate myself for the trashy parent of the year award.

Reading all my drinking suggestions would probably lead you to believe I was (or am) some kind of crazy partier. But I wasn't. For reals. The height of my partying was for about one year in college (okay, maybe two). The rest of the time, I was working 40 hours a week while taking 15-18 credits per quarter. Not a lot of time for fun. Or hangovers.

Still, I seem to have a wealth of information on drinking games/stupid methods of getting obliterated. Let's just say I'm observant. Maybe it's where I'm from. There wasn't a lot to do out in Podunk, WA except drink, go four-wheelin', and get knocked up. None of which I actually DID in high school. Cause I was SO SO SO boring. Not that getting knocked up is a good way to be interesting. Let's just say I wasn't even doing the things to get knocked up.

So, just in case you were following me on Twitter that night, I'm not a raging alcoholic, and I promise not to train my child on the beer bong. I'll wait till he's at least 12.


A Time Where Something Sucking is a Good Thing

A couple of weeks ago I was vacuuming and noticed the little red light come on, the one letting me know that the bag is full.

I was out of bags.

Of course.

Then I got to thinking...I have never owned a NEW vacuum cleaner. Like, ever. Every single one has been a hand me down. And I'm not complaining, not even a little, because this girl loves hand me downs. Big time.

But I had been noticing I vacuum and vacuum and vacuum and there is ALWAYS still dog hair in the carpet. Nasty.

I decided instead of buying new vacuum bags, well, I was just going to buy a new vacuum. Always logical, this one.

After doing quite a lot of research (okay, I sorted by highest stars on Amazon), I settled on a Bissell Pet Hair Eraser.


I ordered it up and waited (only two days, love that Amazon Prime!).

And it arrived a few days ago.

You know when the vacuum box has a picture of your pet, you've got a big shedder.

Vacuum Box

Carl - and honestly, I'm kind of pissed at him for holding out on the proceeds from that modeling job.

I know you're just dying to know how well the vacuum worked. (Okay, maybe not. But I'm still going to tell you.)

Ohmycrikey, DID IT WORK.


I got this much, out of an 8 x 10 area of carpet. Twice.


By the way, this post was not sponsored in any way, shape or form by Bissell, but if they want to pass on Carl's commission check, that'd be fab.

This vacuum? It totally sucks.


Well Read

I adore reading. As long as I can remember, I have devoured books. The library was one of my favorite places to go as a child. In the summer, we'd go every few weeks, and I'd walk out, barely able to peer over the teetering stack of books precariously perched in my arms.

My mom stopped sending me to my room for punishment, cause to me? That was like heaven. I could just go read and read and read.

Judy Blume was my favorite. Of course, I would get in trouble for reading her. Cause they were 'sexy'. All that talk about breasts and periods. Um....

I guess Forever was a little racy. Maybe.

I do remember getting my hands on a copy of Elvis and Me, Priscilla Presley's autobiography, when I was about ten. Totally inappropriate, and the person who lent it to me? My eighty year old great grandma. My mom didn't catch me with that one till I was done and re-reading it.

Then I moved on to Sweet Valley High. I always pretended like I liked Elizabeth better, because she was the sweet twin, but I always really wanted to be Jessica. And I bet you did too. Liar.

And those really awful Christopher Pike murder mysteries? Read those too. Those were like soft teenaged porn, really. Our parents had NO IDEA.

In college I majored in English and actually hated reading for a few years cause I had to do it, all the time, and then listen to a bunch of bespectacled (but they only wore the glasses to appear intellectual) blow-hards yammer on about Proust and Thoreau. And I had to read poetry and I know it's sacrilege for an English major to admit this but OMGIHATEPOETRYWITHTHEFIREOF1000SUNS. This stems from being forced to try to find something meaningful out of a bunch of words some dude wrote while he was doing copious amounts of opium or whatever. I do, however, enjoy a good dirty limerick.

When I worked outside of the home, I actually had time to read during the day, and read and read and read. On the train, at lunch, in traffic (just kidding, kind of...have you been in Seattle traffic?).

And then, when I became a stay at home mom? The reading came to an abrupt and grinding halt. But I have figured out how to work in some reading time. Usually it occurs in the bathroom. In the bathtub or the other place, whatever, don't judge. And I try to read before I go to bed. Usually this concludes with me passed out, drooling, the book on my chest.

Have I read any good books lately? Lots! I'm in love with the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo series. And yes, I have been reading the Sookie novels, the ones True Blood is based on...brainless? Yes. But so fun.

Also, my friend Andrea sent me a wonderful book called Cold Tangerines when I was having a rough time - it's about finding the small joys in life. It's a perfect little book, you can read a chapter at a time, and it is just, well, uplifting (thanks again, Andy).

On my nightstand, I've got The Help. That's next. I've heard wonderful things about it. Can't wait to dig in.

What have you read lately? I'd love some suggestions. I need to keep the nightstand stocked.