new hat

Our friend, Hillary, stopped by yesterday to give Noni this lovely hat. She did it so that I could have my lovely hat back
Noni loves this new. She hasn't taken it off since yesterday. She even asked to sleep in it. She says that it's going to be her signature hat. I think that it suits her.

This morning, I overheard Noni and Daddyman talking. At one point, there was the potential for a little tsk and huffy from Noni. I held my breath - no tsk and huffy. Daddyman told her that he'd noticed how she respectfully she been treating her family today - no tsk and huffy. Noni told Daddyman that since it was 2008, she'd "changed her act."

It appears that Noni is the process of creating a new image for herself. One that she is apparently putting some thought into.

What are you working on this New Years Day?

huh. really? ok.

Today, Yaya my youngest, said this:
Mom.
You can kiss me if you want to because I am your favorite. Remember?
You can kiss me, but I don't want you to hug me.
That would not be so good.

duck: not a new year's resolution

OK, I've just check my "coolness factor" - I dipped the stick into the well, and came out severely deficient.
Dried up.
Uncool.
Middle-aged.
Mom.

Could it be the hours and hours, weeks upon weeks of children's music and videos - that ridiculous Elmo or Max & Ruby?
Could it be the endless diet of Mac & Cheese and all things bland and tasteless?
Could it be that I am becoming that elementary teacher that I so seriously have been trying to avoid - you know, the one who wears outfits that match the seasons?
Could it be that I have no grasp on pop culture as I don't see a movie until it's out in video?
Could it be that the hippest clothing I own somehow ends up with graham cracker smudges?

Yes. It could. It could be all of these things and more.

WHERE DID I GO?

I used to be a passionate artist type: a singer/actor/writer.
I was opinionated and bossy and driven and articulate.
I was a risk taker.
I was a flirt.

Now, I'm not so sure I want to hop in the suburban gold mini-van to drive downtown in a little bitty snow storm. You just never know what might happen... I'll send Daddyman. He'll drive into that den of danger and he'll. come. back. Our hero.

BLechhhh!

I am losing my grip on what's real and what's ridiculous. We have the turtle from the science room staying with us for the holidays. Yesterday, I called the turtle a DUCK. And I thought that was the right word. It was like the time I put the milk in the cupboard... Soon, I will be writing an incoherent blog from the mildly pleasant sun room of a home for the demented and infirm... When that happens, please, keep reading this blog. It might actually get interesting.

I used to talk about world issues and religion and politics and history and the future. Now, I talk about the merits of all-natural laundry detergents and organic grocery stores and school break.

I feel like the authentic, artistic me has been not-so-carefully wrapped in plastic and chucked down the back stairs, waiting for that time in life when someone has died and the poor widow/children/neighbors are cleaning out all of the crap - "can you believe how much stuff is in her basement? I am never going to let that happen to me!"

The tragedy? I am waiting for someone else to help me escape the sticky cling of this Saran-Wrap life that I've been making for myself.

When did I become a wait-er? I used to be a do-er! SHIT!

Why is it that everyone I know is content to sit and drink - coffee, beer, wine - and watch? I want to do. I want my kids to do.

I want to make chaos and be happy in it!

It's going to take more than learning to knit or joining a book club. I am seriously deprived of all things creative and wonderful. It's going to take more that season tickets to the opera or ballet or the theater. I need to DO not watch.

I know, I know. Start the game and others will join in. I just am too damned tired from cleaning up after the DUCK to be a flippin' cheerleader so others will think what I am doing is valid and then all of the cool kids will jump at the chance to come and play with me, thereby increasing my coolness factor.

I may be destined to become old and boring.
Not fat, though.
That's not going to happen.
I am going to become really thin in my old age.
A girl has to look forward to something in retirement.

tampopo and qwirkle

Had a wonderful lunch out with my friend, Mama Byrd. (She's recently had her third baby.) We're both feeling a need to connect with good friends, so we've begun a monthly lunch outing - no kids & no husbands. It's fabulous! Ok, so this is our second month...
I adore Mrs. Byrd, and I feel so at ease in her presence. She is so positive and supportive. I love spending time with her. She laughs easily, and has a heart the size of Texas. I always feel so cared for and cared about when I am with her.
This month took us to the Tampopo Noodle Shop in the warehouse district of Downtown St. Paul - it's just around the corner from the Farmers Market. Yum yum yummy food. Perfect for a gray, snowy day like today. My favorite was the Edamame and the Miso soup. Such simple things, but so easy to take for granted and thus, neglect. The Miso soup had a rich goodness... We each had a sampling of good things, a beer and shared a chocolate pot of creme. (Not so good...) Then, we did a little shopping and bought perfume. Totally girlie afternoon and I LOVED it!

Tonight, after dinner, the Littles and I played an assortment of games: Qwirkle ( a cross between dominoes and Set), Shut the Box, and Colorforms (Anyone remember these?) Qwirkle is great! It moves fast, doesn't require reading - so anyone can play. And there really isn't a winner, from what I can ascertain. Lots of colored tiles to lay out in pretty designs. It's tricky to describe, but if you've ever played Set and Dominoes, then you've got the general idea.
Shut the Box is actually a bar game (that's what the box says. C'est la vie.) Each player takes a turn rolling the pair of dice and turning over the corresponding numbers. The object of the game is to turn over more numbers than your opponent - literally Shutting the Box. It's a good game for learning math facts for the Littles - there are lots of numbers that add up to 12, or 8, or 11.
Colorforms isn't really a game, but all about art and design. We made it a game by telling stories about the pictures that we had created. Again, no winner, but great stories. Lots of laughing, and a tiny bit of jealous grumping.

Yaya loved the Colorforms - she'll be a graphic designer, no doubt.

Via loves Quirkle, and Noni loves Shut the Box. I love the stories and the quiet, silly chatter that happens at a table full of busy little girls.
All are tucked into their beds with an American Girl or such...
Hope your house is full of happy chaos and laughter tonight.

a sneak peek

We've been working hard. Just thought I'd give you all a quick up date on what we did this day - Saturday!
Now, back to figuring out how to make a kitchen counter out of balsa wood. Hmmm.

this (little) old house

This is my current project.

When we lived in the Mac-Groveland neighborhood of St.Paul, we had the most wonderful neighbors. One in particular man stands out in my mind. Ernest Runyan. Tut was his nickname. When we moved into that neighborhood almost a dozen years ago, Tut was in his late 70's or early 80's, but you'd never know it. He worked out everyday and did 100 push-ups morning and evening. He was a solid ex-marine who had a joke and a smile for anyone who would stop and talk.
We called him the Mayor of the Neighborhood or the Governor of the Boulevard. He'd lived in the same little house since WW2. I remember him telling us that his mortgage was an astounding $70 per month, but he and his wife, Vi, had payed a little extra each month so that they could get out from under the debt. Imagine! $70.00 a month.
Tut sort of took care of everyone in the neighborhood. He was the enforcer of good manners efficient yard care("Chemicals kills that stuff every time! C'mon, I've got something in my garage that'll take care of creeping charlie.") Every young family could point to something in their homes that Tut had helped them fix. It wasn't always done correctly - or esthetically (lots of duct tape and 2" bolts) - but it was done with such a good heart that no one had the desire to ever change it.
Before Tut's wife was moved to an assisted living facility - dementia - Tut and Vi used to sit in their aluminum & webbing lawn chairs on their front porch and survey the goings on. The children were noisy and there was usually a pick-up game of touch football happening in the street... The stuff that great city neighborhoods are made of.
We'd all come outside after dinner in the summertime. Those of us with young babies were anxious to see adults, and those of us with grown children were eager to be part of the familial chaos once again. We'd talk and laugh and share a beer or two before heading inside for baths and bedtime.
One late summers evening, Tut beckoned me to join him in his garage. I followed obediently. There it was - the doll house. He told me that he'd made it for one of his daughters. He'd forgotten that it was in the attic. Did I think that my little girl would like to have it?

Via played with Tut's doll house the whole summer. It was on our front porch. I have the most delicious memories of her little body half way into the house, contentedly playing with her people as the warm breeze blew across the porch and the sun light changed as the leaves on the big oak shifted in the wind.

Via played with that doll house for two years.
Then Noni played with it.
Yaya played with it last summer, but it was pretty beaten up.



This year, Santa brought all of the girls a collection of Calico Critters - more little things with even smaller accessories. The Calico Critters came with the promise of a remodeled house.
So, Daddyman and I are up to our elbows in paint and epoxy and balsa wood. We're fixing and updating... we're upping the curb appeal.

Two winters ago, we buried Tut. I know that Tut would be thrilled that my girls are still using the doll house that he'd made for his girls. I hope that the restoration that we are doing will help the doll house last for a very long time. I hope that our girls will pass it on to their children.

(I'll share the make-over photos when the house is done. Keep checking!)

which is better...

the super yummy Christmas cookie baked with dear friends, or the fabulous new camera that can take a gorgeous photo of the yummy Christmas Cookie and making it look even better?