Young Fresh Fellows

You know you're maturing when you do a google search to see a picture of a band whose song you like on the radio, and you see pictures of boys. Not the men you expected, but youthful, slender boys doing their best 'artists-don't-smile' pose--boys who could be my sons (if I had them young, of course!). I'm not talking about a teeny-bop boy band here either, these guys are hot on the rock scene. (I bet you didn't know that forty-something mom's are experts about the rock scene!)

The song is Sex on Fire, most of the lyrics are unintelligible to me, but thanks to technology I can see the title on my radio. This video is probably the closest I will ever come to seeing them live. And you know what? That's just fine.

Kings of Leon: More members have since sported a few facial hairs, which helps their forty-something fans not feel so pervy!

P.S. While I've been typing this post, the song has been playing and my daughter has been dancing to it. I'm not sure that I like the idea of her dancing to a song called "Sex on Fire"!
Now I know I'm a mom!

A Study in Contrasts

There's reality...





...and then there's the total opposite: a vicarious trip to Barcelona through DVD.

and so the story unfolds in Vicky Cristina Barcelona...guaranteed to spice up any rainy day.

Reality

You know how you never want to show people your messy house? Well, here's the dark underbelly of mine. My brother & his family are coming tonight and this is how the house looks right now at 3:00 p.m. The kids have been busy.

Where my 5 year old nephew will sleep tonight...

Laundry still to fold...

and clutter, clutter, everywhere.

Looking at my last post, I suppose that Martha Stewart probably doesn't need to watch her back just yet!

Watch Your Back Martha!

I have so many projects going on....of course, there's the dreaded get-all-the-papers-together-for-taxes adventure, but I'd rather discuss crafty stuff right now. Maybe it's a nesting instinct, but I'm filled with the urge to sew, glue and embroider (ya, I said embroider!) things for my kids. I'm also guilty of frequent "crafterbation". (I stole that term from this blog, it's short for vicarious crafting.)

I don't think I'll have any crafterbaters on my blog anytime soon, but for now, my creative urges are satisfied. Sometimes I even crave a ciggie afterwards (just kidding, actually I just fall asleep).
I made a cardboard playhouse Superbowl weekend, after a friend gave us this awesome huge box. I wrote their names on it in fabric paint as an afterthought, then Hubby walked too close and before I could tell him the paint was still wet, his shirt had blue glitter on it. He wasn't too thrilled. Oops! You can just barely see the smear mark.



They love it.

I had these wool felt remnants and am making little pillows for the babies. I'm even attempting to embroider a face on the bunny, still have some filling in to do.

As you can see, I went a little crazy at the only place in town that sells embroidery thread.

We bought this table & chairs for the kids at Ikea. I wanted to get low VOC paint and primer since they'll be eating right off of it...the paint cost as much as the table! If I would have known the primer would be this red, I wouldn't have bought the blue paint. Oh well, I'm sure I'll use it.

And another project brewing in my head right now too. There's so much to do, maybe I could use a nanny for my job!

Friday the 13th

It's been a hard day, Friday the 13th I suppose. It started this morning I discovered from my stepdaughter that the art easel we purchased online for my granddaughter's birthday is actually for a three year old! Thanks Toys R Us for putting it in the 8-11 year old section.

It's been a day of shortchanged naps, walks that never happened and a house that refuses to stay picked up.

I really felt myself sinking around their bed time. Trying to get two one year olds diapered and in pajamas can be quite a feat and tonight I was doing it alone, Hubby was working late. As I was changing Bear, he arched his back just at the moment I took his diaper off and a large peice of poop fell right on the living room floor. He crawled out of my grasp with a poopy butt as I grabbed a wipe to pick up the poop, but he was faster than me and somehow stepped in it. FYI steam carpet cleaners make great baby shower gifts! (Mercifully, I have no pictures for you.)

Goodnight!

Everyone Needs a Tiara Now & Then

Tonight we took turns wearing the tiara from the "big kids" toybox.

Boo doesn't like things on her head, even if they do have jewels in them. But for Bear, anything on his head is fun...especially a tiara!

And I Thought "Maam" was Bad

Last friday I was at the local natural foods store inspecting some salmon when a high pitched "oooh, they're so sweeeeet!" erupted behind me. I swung around to see a young clerk smiling crazily at the babies. I gave her my "yes, they're adorable aren't they?" smile, casually soaking in the praise (I admit, I was a little cocky too, we go through this all the time--it's the twin thing). It was the second time this week she had swooned over them, but she didn't seem to remember.

"Now wait...are you the mom or grandma?"

OUCH! (...glasses, must be the glasses, they make me look older)

Being the nice, people pleasing person that I am, I casually said, "uh...Mom", but I was floored and surprised that she didn't recognize us from two days ago, when she made the same fuss.

She turned towards the kids again "Well, I got to meet your grandma the other day."

DOUBLE OUCH! (OK, Tuesday was a bad hair day, but THAT bad?)

"Oh well, anyway congratulations" she said cheerily, and disappeared behind the stock room doors, oblivious to the baggage she dumped at my feet.

Now I know in my profile I go on about being a mom and a grandma, but being a "grandma" has always been OK because up until now I knew I was too young to really be one. Whenever I tell people I'm a grandma, they inevitably say "no way...you're much too young." Apparently, that is over, I'm into a new era now...and looking back, most of the people who respond that way aren't nineteen.

On the positive side, I should feel flattered, because if I really was Boo & Bear's grandma, it would feel great to be mistaken for their mom.

But I did put on a little more makeup this morning...you never know who you'll run into.

Happy Birthday E!

To Our Favorite 9 Year Old:
Have a great, awesome, spectacular, wonderful day! We love you.

Watch Your Mail....

I feel fine

How do you know you're PMSing when you don't think you are? I feel fine, these are all just genuine feelings, right? I'm completely justified in having them, I'm not being sensitive, anyone would react this way...right?

Telltale signs:

• Nobody answers your question about how much milk your kids should drink on the local baby info online newsgroup, and you feel like a rejected dud with a lame question, at the same time though you know you're overreacting. (Damn--not even one helpful hint!).
  
• You drive to work in a tizzy, fuming about how little time you have and how this last minute project assigned to you this morning will make your carefully alloted day fall apart; at the same time preparing to lead an office meeting on "being positive".
  
• Your husband warily asks you "is everything OK?" upon walking in the door. Of course, I say "fine." Later, he tells you someone else is in your body and you'll be back soon.
  
• You pig out on ice cream and chocolate while watching The Biggest Loser.

Really, I feel fine.