Tim and Flo Plus Two

My favorite F-words

2010-01-27T19:41:00.000-08:00

What makes a life worth living? Friendship. Family. Fun. Faith. For me, those are what I need. Sometimes I take that for granted. Okay, I often take that for granted. Friends I've made throughout my about-to-be 35 years have come and gone. Some have stayed.

Recently I moved across the country, back to my home state, and reconnected with old friends. It's been an challenging yet amazing journey. The growth in me, my priorities, my mindset, my self worth from high school to adulthood had never before been apparent. I miss the relationships I made in the Midwest. I am reacquainting myself with the friends of my younger years and now am understanding the need-yes, need!-for solid, honest, long lasting friendships.

My best friend from high school found out she had breast cancer while she was pregnant. We sat together during one of her chemo treatments, she was about 7 months pregnant. Between the two of us, she was the quiet one, the one who got "sucked in" to my crazy antics. As we sat there, she told me about finding out about cancer, educating herself and fighting it and I cherished her even more than I knew I could. As she spoke I watched her, in her scarf covered head talk and thought about us as girls, dressing up for prom together (because I wouldn't go unless she went, of course!), photographing for the high school yearbook, meeting to party on weekends in college, being in each others weddings...she was part of my life-"my life" and here she was fearlessly facing death. Thankfully, the cancer is in remission and her gorgeous boy was born healthy. I couldn't imagine my life without her. Another friend from high school recently died suddenly. We had kept in touch on and off throughout the years. Only after his death did I learn that he had been homeless, jobless, divorced and unable to maintain a stable life. Both of these situations reminded me the importance of being a friend. That, for me, friendship means dedication.

The move across country separated me from friends I made over the 10 years I lived in Indiana. A few I met when I first moved there and stayed close to over the years; most I met when I became a mother. Having a support system when I was feeling overwhelmed, alone and unworthy was something (I can see now) that I took for granted. Hindsight...you know what they say. Now, living in a new town I've tried to make friends to replace the old. To fill in for my friends that I miss. All the while overlooking the new relationships that I can form. I have found myself mourning the loss of what was but overlooking who I am and who I can be to others.

Recently, I found myself in a very dark place. I wallowed in all the "what I don't have". I chose to be a victim of my circumstances instead of embracing the new opportunities. I was ashamed to admit my weakness but called on family. Unexpectedly, my father dropped everything and flew up the day after I called him. He cleaned, did laundry, played with the kids, listened to and counseled me without judgement. One day he encouraged me to leave the house. As we were out and about in town I ran into people I'd met over the 6 months of living here, I chatted with some other mother's in the park, I got a hug from the local coffee shop girl who asked where I'd been hiding myself. And I realized what I do have.

I have friends, I have family, and, I have fun. I love to laugh, to make people smile, to include people, to socialize, to experience and I make "fun" a priority. Whether it be imaginary play with my kids, karaoke with the girls, concerts with my husband, experimenting with new recipes, trying out new classes at the gym, volunteering...fun is what gets me through the day. A life without fun is a life wasted. If I am not making life fun, not laughing at the moments, not embracing the good in life then I feel unhealthy. I want people to see me and feel happy and know that I enjoy life and accept all that God has blessed me with.

Faith. Ahhhh, faith. Today I confided in someone that I'd lost my faith. For the last 5 years my family was part of a church that was the center of our lives. It had everything our family needed: family groups, activities, wonderful services, strong spiritual leadership. After moving to Texas, we visited local churches, didn't find our "match" and gave up. And that is the key. I gave up. I gave up faith. Faith that God just is. That He is and always will be. The friend I confided my lost faith to told me, "Every day just remind yourself that you have faith. Even if you don't believe it, you will. It's there." And I knew that it was there, just waiting for me to return.

And now, I have faith.

Functional Apron

2009-06-15T12:02:00.001-07:00

I’m moving across the country. I realized it today although I’ve been planning since January. From the Midwest back to Texas. Emotionally I’m not ready so I am in hyper-planning mode; trying to control the uncontrollable. My panic button was pushed over Memorial Day weekend when I looked at my calendar to plan out my remaining weekends before the move and realized there were only 3 left!
I’ve decided that I am going to set up the kids room first and a craft corner second. Then my mind wandered to the necessity for a functional apron. A throw back to the 50’s where pearls and an apron were the necessary accessories. I want an apron. Mind needs to be functional, many pockets, and make them deep. Deep enough to hold random toy parts. A pocket to hold a pen and small notepad. A pocket to collect small, random toys. Another pocket to hold my phone. And another pocket to hide candy (emergency bribes) and Tylenol; inevitably, someone WILL get sick.

If there were anything to delay this project it would be choosing fabric. My functional apron will be a uniform of sorts so the fabric will have to be fitting of my many home making duties while keeping my own personal funky flavor. Amy Butler prints, repurposed vintage fabric, polka dots, stripes, a little bit of Mexican flair…oh, the possibilities are endless! My friend K and I have the same love of vintage linens. So much that we went to a presentation at the local historical society titled, “A Woman’s Work is Never Done”. It was our version of a Star Trek convention. K and I arrived in our skirts, heels, pearls and aprons.

The days before Memorial Day weekend we were in Ohio for a family funeral. Tim’s Grandmother passed away at age 86. While I was there my mother-in-law brought out heirloom aprons, one was her mother’s. My husband’s family is the closest manifestation to the June Cleaver ideal I’ve always fanaticized about becoming. She held the thin-from-years-of-washing feed sack apron in her hands and told me, “if my mother were awake, she'd have this on”. And that’s why I love aprons. Because, for me, it’s a symbol of the home; a uniform for employment I didn’t seek but am so blessed to be called to. I want to be the mother in the apron that my children, and grandchildren, remember.

My Pledge for Change

2009-01-20T18:48:00.000-08:00

What a historical day. Today my 4-year-old and I picnicked on the living room floor while we watched the inauguration. We bowed our heads during prayer and my son, as difficult as it was for his busy little body, respectfully kept quiet until Rick Warren said, "Amen". We watched Aretha Franklin sing My Country 'Tis of Thee and I realized it was the first time my son had ever heard that song. With my son cuddled in my lap, we watched President Obama take his presidental oath. When the final words were spoken my son jumped up and down, cheering, in out living room. So, I got up and jumped and cheered with him.

So, here is my pledge for change...

I will teach my children through my actions.
I will use the gifts God has given me to help others.
I will respect myself in order to be a better wife, mother, daughter, friend.
I will stretch myself outside my comfort zone in order to find ways to grow as a person.
I will educate others about Autism and its effects on family and the community.
I will share my story so people know that we are not so different.

And, I will continue to pray.

Groceries.

2009-01-09T05:03:00.000-08:00

This morning I went grocery shopping at 6 am. Ugh. Husband has been working hard and late all week and I have been putting off grocery shopping. I'd rather scavenge the pantry for random snacks and squeeze the very last dab of toothpaste out of the tube than take the kids with me to the store. They're not awful kids; the mix of kids and coats and Meijer and coupons and grocery lists...well, it all makes me a little panic-y.

So this morning I jumped out of bed, washed my face, put on my snow boots and coat and went to Meijer. And know the worst part of the whole trip? It wasn't the (below) freezing temperatures or the stockers blocking all the aisles or even the rush I was in (so that I could be back in time for husband to get to work). No, the worst part was that none of the checkout lanes were open and I had to check myself out. I hate that.

These are the reasons I hate to self check: I usually have too many groceries and they don't fit on that mini-shelf so as I adjust them to fit the machine "beeps" to warn me (and everyone else) that I've removed a bag; at least half of my coupons don't work so I have to walk to the unenthused cashier so she can punch them in; I try to get all my stuff to fit in the least amount of bags so I overstuff and a bag (or two) rips open; a clearance item doesn't scan and I have to go back to the cashier who is already unhappy with my multiple unscannable coupons. Oh how I hate self check. Shouldn't I get a discount for having to scan and bag my own stuff? Who do I write to about this?

But, do you know what I do love? A deal! I love coupons and anything 50% off. So, when my friend started this website, I was in love.
Check it out.

Y'all Come Back Now...or Later.

2008-12-05T20:27:00.000-08:00

We're back in the Midwest. The trip was good...maybe a little too long, but good. Tonight I took Suave to get his hair cut and he told the Great Clips lady, "we went to Texas but stayed for too long so I got mean." How perceptive. Apparently, 4 states, 2 hotels, 4 homes, 1 Quincenera, Thanksgiving and 2 big, Latino families are too much for a four-year-old. Who would have guessed? Admittedly, we tried to pack in too much in the 2 1/2 weeks we were there. Funny (or, not so) how kids will let you know just when and how much of "enough" they've had. Of course, Bea ate up all the attention and we are still trying to remind her of our "home rules" and that there are foods other than "taco".

So, about the Quincenera... My sister celebrated her 15th birthday with a big party. It's quite the tradition, right up there with a Mexican wedding. Big dress, cake, mariachis, food, tons of people. It was a great time. My dad wanted to make sure we shook off our Midwestern way-of-life for the night and allowed our children to indulge by running around on the dance floor, staying up waaaay past bedtime, dancing and simply getting spoiled. We let them and they loved it! Suave showed off breakdancing moves we didn't know he had and Bea was right behind.

Thanksgiving was a different story. Made me even more Thankful for my wonderful husband who knows just when to take the kids for a walk and when to just let me be alone to cry. Thanks Babe.

On the Road

2008-11-15T20:53:00.000-08:00

This weekend we packed up the minivan and headed South. I've been busy tending to all the sickies in the house, pack, work and fulfill my housewife-mommy duties that I've neglected the blog. I have so much to talk about and a few pictures to post but right now I'm in the comfort of a Missouri Comfort Inn.

Our trip to Texas started this morning at 4:45 am-fourty five minutes later than planned but no problem, other than the rain. We woke up the kids, bundled them up from the cold and wind and buckled them in the car. Suave got us started by saying, "Let's hit the road!" and Tim started us off with a prayer. We were hopeful that the kids would snooze but, no luck, they stayed awake until our first Starbucks stop at 6.

Speaking of Starbucks...when did their breakfast items get soooo yummy!?! We all shared some feta, mushroom thing that I am craving again.

So, again we headed west, out of Illinois. A few stops here (McDonald's) and there (Wal-Mart) and a couple of movies (James and the Giant Peach, VeggieTales) later and we arrived in Springfield. The kids were eager to swim and while they were at the pool with daddy, I did a little cardio in the gym.

And now, everyone is asleep. Hubby next to me, Bea in the other bed and Suave in his favorite sleeping spot, the floor.

Tomorrow we arrive in Dallas. I'll tell you all about it...

Buckling Down on Bedtime

2008-10-25T17:33:00.000-07:00

In preparation of winter I have started my hibernation preparation. The kids have started their for the winter olympics; bouncing around the house and finding unstable things to hang on. Summer was spent by Suave in mid air and he's not slowing down just because of the cold weather. This summer he learned to play football, ride his bike (rattle-y training wheels and a distinctive pedal rhythm gave me a 2 block "warning" when they were on their way back from the park). It was the summer of the Michael Phelps, the State Fair,
rocking the swingset out of its cement posts, singing "Jolene" and driving to NC. It was a summer of endless playdates at the park and visits to the Children's Museum.

The long summer days are ending and our sleep clocks are still fighting the change.
The summer made us lax in a sleep routine and the change of season is my time to buckle down at bedtime. My goal is 10:00 every night so my own body can get that 8 hours sleep. If I'm better rested I'm more likely to exercise the next day. Although, not tonight.

Suave has decided against nap. If he weren't such a bear by 6:30 I'd let him skip them. Plus, naptime is a perk of stay at home parenting! Who doesn't love a good nap? Other than my son.

And, everything he does, she follows. I love it except when they join forces at nap and bedtime. Suave is in his upgraded "big boy" bed. When Bea was born he went into a twin bed on the free-with-purchase metal bed frame. At a summer yard sale I found a bed frame with layers and layers of paint but solid wood for $10. How exciting that Husband was eager to clean it up for his boy. It was a summer project but today it was brought in and set up.

Tomorrow we're disconnecting cable. Since the Insight/Comcast switch service is bad, at best. Plus, with Husband starting his Masters(!) and with my own endeavors...well, television is not condusive. Remind me of this during the December re-run season. I'll wish for that Oprah on DVR, the one about the Olsen twins that I just rolled my eyes at before I hit delete.

Boy

2008-10-07T03:59:00.001-07:00

How fun to have a boy. I had no idea he would be so boy-ish. He loves to jump off high places, crash his toy trucks, poke at ants and eat steak. He also loves to cuddle his mommy, kiss his daddy, guide his sister and bake cookies. Right now he's watching Mr. Roger's Neighborhood and I feel him cuddled next to me on our big chair. He turns to me and says, "I don't want to be his neighbor. Just yours." Sounds good to me.

Sitter Reads While Girl Cuts

2008-09-18T20:24:00.001-07:00

Tonight my husband hosted an "Appreciation Event" at a local bar/restaurant. There are some times in life when you know the odds are against you...tonight was one of those times. For weeks we've been trying to find a sitter so I could be by my husband's side. Husband was adamant that he wanted me to be there. "You HAVE to go, all the other wives will be there. Plus, I need you to tell me if my speech is okay." Did I mentioned my husband is very intelligent but a bit weak in the social skills? What a perfect pair we make.

So, we call every sitter we know and with this or that and ISTEP tests this week, no one can come over. Finally, last night we get a call from our neighbor-down-the-street whose dinner with her grandmother got cancelled. Yeah, she's able to do it! One obstacle down. All day today (the day of said event) the kids were uneasy, too tired perhaps. Baby girl decided not to nap and boy was she grumpy. The sitter showed up and the boy was still sleeping (at 5 o'clock) and the girl was writhing on the floor screaming for another banana. I made them their favorite-and probably most unhealthy dinner-mac and cheese with sausage and peas and went to the bedroom to get dressed. By this time I was running late. As I walked to the door my two loves followed me screaming, "I want to go!", "Don't leave!", "Wait, I need water!" I pried them off my leg, bribed them with the promise of donuts in the morning and clomped (I had my heels on but hadn't had a chance to pull up the slingbacks) out the front door.

Ahhh...out the door and on my way. I get there and order a nice, strong drink. "Malibu Rum and Coke, please." Then the food comes. I'd saved up my calories for the day so I could munch-and, boy, did I! Then the phone call came.

"I was reading your US Weekly because I thought they were asleep and they came out of the bedroom and Suave's bleeding and he said Sassy cut it with scissors." Well, yes, in fact this did happen. Sassy climbed up her over-the-door-shoe hangar and found her nail scissors. My crying boy got on the phone he told me they were playing "shaving" and she cut his ear. The panic in the babysitters voice didn't help so I told her I'd send another neighbor over. I called the mommy who lives in the house behind us and told her the story. She went over, cleaned the ear, bandaged it, had him show her his muscles and made sure the babysitter was willing to stay until I got home.

She did. Let's hope she'll be back. Then again, let's hope she won't.

Nap Necessity

2008-09-15T13:29:00.000-07:00

The kids are still asleep. If they stay snoozing for another half hour then Daddy will be home and, oh, how lovely that will be! Today I decided to toss responsibility out the window. While they were napping I found all kinds of fun sites where I learned to knit finger puppets, buy toys I cannot afford and read about other mommies like me. A couple of my new faves are Pioneer Woman, Indy Fash Bash and Angry Chicken. Check them out for yourself to see why I love them so!

Usually during naptime I try to work on a project (my current is updating our living room couch pillows) or, at least, start dinner. Well, none of that happened. After my own half hour cat nap I got on the net and wasted some time. The only thing better would have been a nice glass of my favorite drink from Oliver winery. But, alas, I didn't...this time.

Perhaps the kids are sleeping so soundly because we went to a friends house to get started on the garage sale we are having this weekend. While the mommies worked on sorting and hanging clothes, the kiddos played in the driveway.

After some hard core play time we loaded them up on cheap pizza (Little Cesar's $5 pizza-that's FIVE DOLLARS folks!) and cantaloupe and tried to work on garage sale stuff some more. One black eye and two pinched fingers later I decided to come home so the kids could nap. When I tell people that my 2 and 4 year old still nap I usually get the same gasp and reply, "you're so lucky!". Well, yeah, I am. I love that they nap because I can nap! I'm a napper, always have been.

We've worked hard to get them to sleep in their own beds and, for the most part, they leave us alone. Every now and then our little bear (son) will crawl in between us and try to stay quiet enough to avoid our radar. However, once he falls asleep his toes begin their dance on my back and ribs and back in his bed he goes. We've recently purchased a toddler bed for the girl-for $2 at a garage sale-and she seems to like it.

Well, now the gig is up. Husband is home and looking a little puzzled since his house is hot and pots are cold...and his kids are still cuddled in their beds.

Boob Job

2008-08-26T18:34:00.000-07:00

Friday I got a boob job. Okay, it's not really a boob job but boob job sounds so much better than biopsy. At my annual exam my doc noticed a lump on my right side. "Have you felt this before?", she asked me? "No, but you can ask my husband", I told her. She sent me in for a mammogram which, by the way, is not nearly as bad as all the female comedians make it out to be. The mammogram apparently didn't show them what they wanted to see on account of my "density" so they took an ultrasound. And, sure enough, it was right there. Half a golfball nestled in my layers of boob fill. "Biopsy" they recommended. I wasn't worried, seeing as how there is no family history of breast cancer and I'm not a white woman over 40. I wasn't worried until the nurse walked me out of the ultrasound room, patted me on the back and said, "I'm so sorry" in her softest I'm-a-caring-nurse voice.

It was painful. Yes, they numbed the area. They stuck a huge needle into my breast and pushed it in further and further so they could numb it up down to the core. But we hadn't even gotten to the fun part yet. Of course, my husband was in there, for moral support and to see the coolest show on earth. Much cooler than a C-section. Where, by the way, he took PICTURES of me splayed on the surgery table with my insides peeking out. For my biopsy they made a half inch slit then stuck a long needle-like rod into the incision. The end of the rod had a modified drill bit that would shave off portions of the offending lump. The rod was attached to a vaccuum so that the doc could take a sample of boob tissue. I watched it all on the ultrasound screen with my head cocked sideways and my husband looking over my shoulder for the best view of the show.

I did pretty well the entire day until the end of the procedure where I just lost it and started crying. The day was just too long and worst of all, I hadn't planned it to go this way. For those of you who don't know me, I'm a little crazy with my planning. My outburst must've been shocking to everyone in the room-one second I'm watching the screen, the next I'm dripping tears-that they all asked, "can you feel that?!" "No" I told them, "I just want to go home". They removed all rods, sealed me up with steri-strip and showed me my boob sample. It looked like a few flesh colored worms floating at the bottom of a pee cup. Perhaps seeing that at a different time would have been interesting but at that particular time, it was just annoying.

After that I was released and they told me they'd call me on Tuesday or Wednesday. Really? Now, really? Modern medicine and I have to wait the entire weekend PLUS an extra work day? Fine. I used this time to call my mom and dad and get our family health history. Then I called some close friends to let them know about my day.

So, Today the doc called and all is well. Negative biopsy and recheck in 3 months. Ahhhh....

Go Home Already

2008-08-18T11:52:00.000-07:00

I am not happy. Not one Project Runway-licious bit. This guy

has got to go. It's purely for personal health reasons. His tanorexia orange is causing me eyestrain. His sad attempts at coining a catch phrase ("Holla' at your boy"-really, that's the best you could come up with?) makes my eardrums ache for the sound of Christian's "fierce hot tranny mess". My favorite reality show, the only reality show, of the many that I watch, that requires their contestants to have actual talent has been tainted by this Blayne fella'.

Project Runway is and has been my favorite show since the early days of Jay and Austin Scarlett (and if that name isn't just perfect for him). I love the designs, I love to watch the designers gather inspiration, I love how they mix fabrics and textures. The only thing I would love more is to see Blayne leave the show. He is a distraction, whiney and a mediocre designer. I mean, tight bermuda shorts under a mom-shirt/tank top as business attire. Really? Oh yeah, I forgot, he's described his designs as "urban".

Um, yeah. Not even in Yakama, Washington.

Little Swimmers, Big Fear

2008-08-15T12:37:00.001-07:00

My kids love the water. I call them my "little turtles" since they see water and head straight for it. Both of them are called to it. When Rico was 1 we went on our first North Carolina family vacation. The waves were crashing on the beach and as we walked down to the shore I expected the worst, a child screaming in fear because of the crashing waves and endless ocean. I was mentally preparing how to comfort my toddler. We all walked out together and while I stopped where the dry sand met the wet, my son kept walking. He walked right up to where the water met the sand and kept right on. I held his hand and I felt his little fingers pull me towards the waves. Apparently, he did not inherit my fear of the ocean.

Unlike my children, I fear the ocean. I don't like getting in past my calves-when I'm feeling brave-I usually just go in to my ankles. My grandmother, on the other hand, must have passed down her ocean swimmer gene. When I was a child I traveled with my grandparents. Every year we went to South Padre Island-sometimes for a day, sometimes for a week. Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and other extended family would meet us there and it was always fun. Being as close to I am to my grandparents, of course most of my memories revolve around them. My two most memorable memories (is that proper wording?) is of my Grandpa Sanchez wearing shorts-which he NEVER wore-and of my Grandma swimming in the ocean. As soon as we got to the beach she would go to the shore to "greet" the ocean. This is something she would do even when we'd go to the island in the middle of winter for dinner. While all the kids were in the sand playing, my Grandmother would swim into the waves and go past the sandbars. She would float out there and swim into the distance. I remember being scared for her. She never was but I was.

Although my Grandmother no longer greets the ocean, my kids do it for her.

Sand in my Suit

2008-07-22T07:36:00.000-07:00

I am a beach bum...at least for the week. I've let go of all my neurotic hang ups and am enjoying our summer vacation to the fullest. It's 10:30 in the morning and the youngest of my brood is napping after some beach yoga with Aunt Liz and a swim in the pool. Suave is with Daddy, they went sightseeing to the pier and some local shops. Suave's had a rough time on this trip. Two days before leaving he caught a cold that quickly turned out to be the flu. The rest of the family started loading up on Elderberry supplements (to boost our immune system). Once we arrived at the beach there was so much commotion, noise and activity that he has been melting down with major "whiney's". It's been hard on all of us.

On the other hand, the rest of us have been sandy, salty, chlorinated and slightly sunburned. Showers are mandatory in the evening but during the day we are barefoot and smell a little like the ocean.

The first day here we all arrived around the same time and were like hillbilly's in a mansion...oooh-ing and ahhh-ing at all the purty furniture, big TV's, private swimming pool and elevator(!). We settled into our rooms and sat on the one of the big porches, out of the rain. We may have been in the midst of a tropical depression but we still had to listen to the ocean. What a view!

Sunday turned out to be better weather than expected since the depression went north of us. We went to the ocean, walked it, looked for shells, ran from (or in the kids case, ran towards ) the waves. In the afternoon we had a July birthday celebration for Suave, Sassy, Cousin A and Grandma Huffman. It was supposed to start at 4:15 but Grandma was so excited that she started it half an hour earlier...even if mommy and Aunt Tonya were still in the shower. Suave was still sick so only got through a portion of the gifts, started crying and went to take a nap.

Early Monday morning a photographer came to take family portraits. We were took them by the beach and at the house, on the porch. As I write I am eagerly awaiting the proofs.

So, now as I write, we have a semi empty house as some kids are napping, some people drove to Myrtle Beach and others went grocery shopping. Quiet in the house-perfect.

Sew What!?!

2008-07-13T18:17:00.000-07:00

I fancy myself a crafty type person. Over the weekend I spend lots of time over at the neighbors, scrapbook and accessories spread out on their dining room table. I scrapped while they ate dinner and I didn't shower for two days so I could get more work done on "Bella's First Year" scrapbook. I have no shame.

As you know, my newest hobby is photography. I took a class and am still self teaching and taking pictures of everything and everybody. Sometimes being an annoying shutterbug works out, like so...

Other times, your children refuse to look at you knowing they will soon be blinded by multiple flashes. See exhibit below.

My soon refused to look up and yet, I still have no shame.

I've taken up knitting, dabbled in calligraphy and even make some jewelry that I never wear. But, by far, my biggest challenge is sewing. There are a few reasons for this. One, I cannot cut straight. Not paper and certainly not fabric. "Buy good scissors", my mother recommended. "And use them ONLY for sewing!", she warned. I followed her advice but my attempt at a straight cut continued to stray. This whole cutting business really wrecks havoc on cutting a pattern. Every (all three) pattern sewing projects I've made have come out hideously disfigured. Once when I was in third grade my mother and I selected a Simplicity pattern for a short and shirt set. I chose the recommendations and bought the right fabric, thread and needles. When the project was all done the shirt was more of a lopsided half shirt and the shorts didn't fit my 8-year-old hips. Does and 8-year-old have hips?

I still have the black fabric cut and still attached to the pattern for a little black dress I began to pre-kids. Like, waaaaaay, pre-kids. Every time I go through my fabric box I find it, neatly folded so that the thin, brown pattern paper is well hidden in the fold. The folded fabric is wrapped in a grocery sack and always (always) the first to go in the box when I reorganize. Oh, but I know it's there. It's cut out but I just know if I try to sew it it will morph into something snug and awkward. There is is...you see how it taunts me so?

My third try at sewing with a pattern was, again, with the help of Simplicity. It was a peasant shirt. Simple, gathered, easy. For most people that it. After cutting it out and getting my machine ready to sew I began to match FRONT to BACK and realized they were two completely different sizes. They didn't match; the edges didn't meet, the shoulders wouldn't touch. Another sad reminder of my snip-deficiency. Rather than waste the super cute eyelet fabric, I brought out one of Bella's dresses, laid it on the eyelet and cut around the dress. What I came out with was this breezy, fabulous Fourth of July dress.

Picture Pages

2008-07-10T20:08:00.000-07:00

Yes, I started a blog to keep family up to date on the kids and our lives. It's hard to remember the details of the day and then recap them in the 5-minute-phone call intervals the kiddos allow me. But, to be honest, another reason is to post my photographs.

I love taking pictures-even though I'm not very good. My old camera broke so we made an investment in a Sony Cybershot since it had the quickest shutter speed on the market. This fact being sold to us by the high school junior working at Best Buy. Besides that fact, anyone who's met our kids knows the importance of having the fastest shutter speed. We purchased the camera and promptly went to Starbucks to marvel over our new toy. That's when I realized I didn't know much about it beyond the on and shutter buttons.

The learning annex held a class, Beginning Digital Photography, and I signed up right away. I loved taking the class. I loved getting assignments. I loved learning more about my camera. I love taking good pictures. Here are a few of my favorites...

These were for the assignment where we had to photograph something red.

I've also made myself take more pictures of events and things, rather than just my kids. As in the following...

The Messiest Birthday Ever

2008-07-10T19:47:00.000-07:00

Trying to come up with a theme that works for both kids is a little tough. Until they are old enough to realize, and ask for, seperate parties they will celebrate together. Of course, we celebrate their individual special day with their favorite meals (chicken nuggets and corn on the cob for Bella; mac and cheese with sausage for Rico) a small cake and family-sung Happy Birthday but the big party is for both of them.

Last year the theme was Pirates and Princesses. They had treasures (party favors) buried in the sandbox and plenty of princess items for the girls. This year I decided on A Bathnight Birthday. The party was meant to be so messy that the guests would have to take a bath when they got home. It was a hit!

The kiddie pool was filled with bubbles, the water table was filled with a gooey cornstarch/water mixture and the sandbox was open and toy laden. And of course, a (fake) tattoo artist. At one point a flower tattooed Bella was sopping in her swimsuit, hair crusted with goo with sand caked on her cheeks.

Rather than cake we had "dirt" pudding desserts. Rico helped me make them so he was so proud of the final result. Both kids also helped make the goody bags. (This is something Rico is really excited about when we go to parties so he was a big part in making them for his friends.) The kids used fabric paint to put their handprints on white washcloths and I later ironed on their names and birthdates. Rico picked out the candy, Skittles, at the grocery store with Tim.

Everyone had a great time. The expectations were to get messy so all the mom's were relaxed, the kids had a blast and, best of all, Rico and Bella were happy.

Kah Rah Tay

2008-07-10T19:20:00.000-07:00

Rico went to his first karate class yesterday. For months he's been talking about karate, showing us his karate kicks and punches. And, actually, he wasn't bad. While I figured it was just a phase he'd grow out of, he kept mentioning karate.

On the 4th of July we went to the Noblesville parade and one of the walking floats was for the American Blackbelt Academy. Rather than handing out candy, they handed out a coupon for a free month of karate!

Yesterday was Rico's first day. He loved it. I loved to see him so happy. The focus is mainly on following directions and respect. As soon as they arrived Rico was asked to put his shoes in one of the bins then they went towards the mat. Before getting on the mat he (and the instructor and other student) had to bow to the mat. Once on the mat they all bowed to the American flag and then to "the masters", pictures of martial arts masters that were on the wall. The instructor was very patient and Rico was doing a great job following direction.

The instructor had them run back and forth on the mat and then stop whenever he yelled, "stop!". The boys thought that was great fun. He allowed Rico to chose the next activity and to ask questions about what was around the room-punching bags and other equipment. They did some other climbing and jumping exercises and then went into punches. The instructor was a impressed that Rico could control his punches and would punch when asked and not spaz out swinging. The class finished by the instructor doing some role play that focused on how to protect yourself from strangers, "say no", "run away", "find an adult".

After some final bows to end the class Rico came to us smiling and happy and, for that night, very tired.