New To Us

In which we try out Red Box for our movie rentals

2009-06-12T08:01:00.000-07:00

Last month, almost over night, these began to appear all over Seattle.

Have you guys seen Red Box where you live? If you aren't familiar with it, and I wasn't, let me explain.

At different locations (grocery stores, etc) a Red Box will be placed. It's like an ATM, except for DVD's. You can rent DVD's for $1 (a day). Totally. And these aren't crappy movies. They are new releases.

Since we gave up our NetFlix membership last summer, we really haven't been watching movies. But dude, for $1....needless to say, we've been using Red Box for the last three weekends. I pick it up from a Red Box local near my work and then return it to the same location on Monday. (Although you can return them to ANY Red Box location. AWESOME!)

The first weekend we rented.....

Crap, what did we rent?

Oh yes, "Taken". It was full of action and pretty decent. Although I'd rather watch Jason Bourne.

The next week we rented "Doubt" from Red Box.

BOR-ING.

(I know it's supposed to be a great movie. But yeah, it took The King and I all weekend to watch it because we kept falling asleep. Also, DID HE OR DID HE NOT molest the kid?)

Last weekend we rented "The Curios Case of Benjamin Button". While I admit that Brad Pitt is a fine looking man and a great actor.....BOR-ING.

Again, it took us all weekend to get through it.

Good thing Red Box is only $1 a day or I'd feel horrible about the money we spent.

We don't blame Red Box for our movie choices. But this weekend, I'm totally going to get something with SOME ACTION from Red Box.

Any suggestions?

(Remember, we don't watch Rated R movies!)

Any of you tried Red Box? What do you think of it?

Getting My Craft On

2009-05-22T14:54:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, my mom asked for help with a bridal shower for a beloved family friend. This "little girl" graduated from the Mrs. Squirrel School of the BabySatted without, to my knowledge, any long-lasting emotional scarring.

I jumped at the opportunity to help host and attend the shower (even if it included a plane ride with The Nugget), but when my mom asked me to take care of The Shower Games, my stomach curdled.

I heart games, but nothing sucks the joy out of a bridal shower like a bride suffering through an awkward game, turning red and trying to laugh and put on a brave face.

I decided on one game -- a game I've played at several showers but that wouldn't put the bride in an embarrassing situation. I also decided to (gasp!) CRAFT the game using her favorite color combinations.

The game: bridal shower bingo! The colors: pink & green!

Here's a closer look at the bingo card. Being a competitive freak and easily distracted at social events, I like shower gift bingo because it allows you to compete, socialize AND provides entertainment during the sometimes lenthy gift-opening session.

Several examples exist on the internet -- most of them involve paying for the game in some fashion, but I wasn't having any of that. Most of the versions already had the squares filled in with lame bridal words like "bouquet," "groom" and "dehymenization."

But I prefer the version where you, the competitive player, must strategically fill inthe spaces with gifts you think the bride will receive at the shower -- so obviously, you already KNOW at least one gift -- the one you brought. Then, if you're not shy, you can try to subtley (or not so subtley) discover what other guests bought for the bride.

The bride herself can play, too! Sometimes I get a little annoyed when the guests don't pay attention to the bride while she's opening her gifts and there's too much side chit-chat, but this game focuses all of the attention on the bride (or at least, what she's got in her hot little hands) and can be quite funny when people lament that the flat box cannot possibly hold the fondue set they'd been hoping her to unwrap or someone (not me, though...ok, maybe me) chants "gravy boat! gravy boat! COME ON FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE HAD TO GET HER THE GRAVY BOAT -- IT WAS OFF HER REGISTRY! LET IT BE HERE! I KNOW IT'S HERE SOMEWHERE -- MAYBE THAT PINK PACKAGE? YES! THAT'S IT! OPEN THAT ONE NEEEEXTTTT!"

Anyway, the game was a huge hit with the bride-to-be and the guests. The bride loved the color combinations (colored cardstock from a craft store -- I think I spent less than $4 on two packages of mixed paper), and the only other supplies I needed were double-stick (permanent) tape, a rotary paper-cutter and a colored printer! I'm not sure if you can tell, but the center square has the couple's name and wedding date.

If you're looking for an easy crafting project and/or a shower game, try this. I'm thinking of making bingo cards for my 3.5 year old wtih zoo animals on the squares, since I have lots of paper leftover! And, if you want the template, please email me at hollowsquirrel at gmail dot com. I don't want you to have to reinvent the wheel or pay money for it elsewhere online!

From the people who brought you magic vagina cream on your face...

2009-05-21T07:46:00.000-07:00

I gave up on In Style magazine several years ago after an unfortunate, alleged Lazy Ass Mail Carrier incident involving months of undelivered issues.

I know it wasn't the magazine's fault, but I also wasn't going to shell out newstand price to buy a magazine that I was already paying for not to be delivered to my door. Bitter.

Anyhoo, I picked up the latest issue and noted a lip care tip from former Baywatch Nighter Angie Harmon.

What I'm about to say my shock you, but then again, we here at New To Us smear (not quite) vagina cream on our faces.

But back to Angie. She quite passionately recommended using Lansinoh lanolin, marketed for sore, cracked nipples, on your lips. Her enthusiasm was palpable. My perpetually flaky and cracked lips begged me to try it, and lucky for me, I still had two almost-full tubes of lanolin from my sore nipple days (breastfeeding, people...and yes, it is an awesome nipple soother.).

No lip balm has ever had the effect that Lansinoh has had on my lips. They are so smooth and soft, I honestly cannot believe the difference. Even my husband noticed how soft they are!

I guess I know now why Angie was so excited to share this awesome and inexpensive tip with In Style readers, because I'll be telling everyone I know about it, too!

In which I get a hair cut exactly like I had when I was eight

2009-05-19T07:01:00.000-07:00

You know how I got bangs a few months back as one of my New Things?

Well, while in Utah last weekend I took it up a notch.

That's right...I got STRAIGHT ACROSS BANGS. Dude, I haven't had hair like this since I was eight.

(Also, Paper Pocket Edward seemed to LOVE my new hair!) (Hey, I'm just saying, the little paper dude thought the bangs were hott.)

(Seriously, check out my straight across bangs on my baptism day!)

Holy crap, I have the exact same hair style I had over twenty six years ago. I'm thinking thats a bad thing, right?

Why did I get my bangs cut? Mostly because The King has, what I call, a bus crush on a girl on his bus with similar bangs. So I figured, why not?

Plus, they'll always grow back.

(But I think I might keep them for a while. They are WAY easier then the swoopy bangs!)

In which we go to the dentist for the very first time ever

2009-03-25T07:01:00.000-07:00

Babboo is mere weeks away from being three years old, which is the recommended age to start going to the dentist. Yesterday was his first ever dentist appointment.

Thankfully one of our very bestest friends just happens to work as a dental assistant for a dentist that was currently accepting new (children) patients. HOORAY.

Babboo did such a great job. I'm not sure if it was just because he's a rockstar (hey, he is), or if having someone he's very comfortable with there to help me. (He loves Vesper almost as much as he loves me.)

Vesper started out by talking to Babboo and telling him what she was going to be doing to his teeth. She showed him how the chair goes up and down ("just like the rides at Disneyland!") and told him about "sugar bugs" on his teeth.

After she prepped him, she started working on his mouth. Babboo sat totally still and just let her do her thang.

(I just sat in the corner and snapped pictures.)

It just took a few minutes to get his teeth cleaned and get a few X-rays taken and then he was all done.

And, guess what?

NO CAVITIES!

Hooray for the dentist (and Vesper).

In which I enjoy a burger in my hotel room

2009-03-06T07:01:00.000-08:00

Can you believe that before last weekend I'd never eaten an In-N-Out burger?

Well, believe it because it's true. Okay, so I'm not really a "burger" type of girl. I rarely will eat a burger at a fast found joint and you'll be hard pressed to find me eating a burger off the home BBQ. I'm just not that into them.

When I do order a burger it always is a cheeseburger. And I also order it, "ONLY pickles". Oh yes, I'm very seriously about the ONLY pickles part. All that other crap they put on burgers? Just gross filler. (Oh and the pickles? DOUBLE them, please.)

Anyway, when we arrived in LA last Friday night we were tired. All of us were tired. And yet, we were super hungry. But being so tired, nobody wanted to leave the hotel room. The King, being the awesome husband he is took the initiative and headed out in the rental car to find something to bring back to the hotel room.

What he brought back was a box full of In-N-Out burgers, fries, and water. And, glory be, they were delicious. Even with "everything" on it. Okay, so I had to take off the onion. But only because there was AN ENTIRE ONION on the burger. (Is that typical? Are they known for putting too much onion on their burgers?) The fries were cold and limp, and yet, still tasty. The King and Babboo wanted nothing to do with the fries, so I ate them all myself. And didn't feel guilty about it.

Babboo also loved his burger. So much so that he laid down and ate it while he fell asleep. He couldn't finish it all so he asked me to put it away and "save it for later". (Since we were in a hotel room this means I threw it in the garbage and did not "save it for later".)

Note to self: Next time you're in CA, get another darn burger. They good.

In which I get new hair

2009-02-18T07:01:00.000-08:00

Yep, I got bangs.

And I love them.

(Ask me in two weeks if I'm still loving them.)

The New House deserves New Things too

2009-02-11T07:01:00.000-08:00

I feel like it's been a while since I posted about New Things over at our new house. But looking back at this blog, I realize the new house is pretty much all I've posted about lately. I guess that's because I was trying to keep the BIGGEST New Thing a secret, so I had to come up with other topics. But now that we've got the Big New Thing out of the way...let's talk more about the New Things over at the new house.

(Yes, we still refer to our house as "the new house". Mostly Babboo refers to it that way and we just follow along.)

Remember back when we bought new curtains for the house at IKEA and then I hemmed them all myself? I was super proud of my (faked) skillz. I mean, I had never really sewn before this and I was able to hem curtains for SIX windows in our house. Unfortunately we didn't need curtains in all the windows in the house and even more unfortunate we couldn't afford blinds for the rest of the windows.

The King began doing research on blinds and watching online and catalog sales. In the mean time we were walking around the house showing all our nekked goodies to the neighbors through our nekked windows. Thankfully, a few weeks ago, The King found a super sale on some blinds over at Smith+Noble that we liked. And so he bought blinds for the two windows in our office and one for the window at the top of our stairs.

And, praise be, they look magnificent. And they cover our nekkedness from the neighbors spying eyes.

(Are you loving the wool Vespa pillow The King got for Christmas? We love it too. It can be purchased over at ETSY.)

Not only do we have these awesome new window coverings (bought on sale, mind you), but we also got four brand new kitchen chairs FOR FREE last week!

Check out how cool they are!

How were we lucky enough to score these chairs? Well, I can't give all my secrets away, but it has something to do with a good friend who is an executive at a failing bank. A failing bank that was GIVING AWAY furniture used in an architectural mock up. Our friend got six chairs for them and then four for us. Score one for The King Family. (Or really, score four, since we got four of them.)

I think we're going to paint our old crappy IKEA wooden kitchen chairs to match the new green chairs and use all eight at the table. Awesome.

It can take a load of money to fill a house once you get it. Thankfully we've got time to slowly acquire all the stuff we need. And good friends to give us the other stuff.

Awesome Grandparents Gift

2009-02-02T08:06:00.000-08:00

I'd been planning this Christmas gift for my parents before the Nugget arrived. Finally, with all four grandchildren born and able to sit, my sister-in-law and I took profile pictures of our kids and sent them to www.simplysilhouettes well before Christmas.

We chose the double silhouette and made it as simple as possible (no wording, no colors). We each ordered the $10 frame which we both regretted. It was a piece of crap and cheapened the gift.

With the holiday travel and associated stress, neither my sister-in-law nor I had time to find the perfect frame for the silhouettes, but recently I found myself in WalMart (I know...I'm such a Target traitor!), and brought home an 8x10 black frame with two white mats.

Wait, you say... I see a white and a black mat, Mrs. Squirrel.

Yes, that's because I used a black crafty type marker I had around the house to color in the interior white mat.

Oh yes I did. In under three minutes, and that includes the time I spent trying to find where I put the cap.

Silhouettes make wonderful heirloom gifts, and this company worked some magic using the pictures we emailed them from our point-and-shoot digital cameras in a quick and friendly manner.

They also offer wall decals, silhouettes on canvas and many other fantastic gift options. Check it out!

In which I long for hair as pretty as Whoorl's

2009-01-30T07:01:00.000-08:00

Did you read Whoorl's guest post over at Amalah's Advice Smackdown back in November?

(You must read it. Click here, read it, and then come back.)

You all know what a fan I am of Amalah's beauty advice. I typically hold fast to everything she says. Throw in Whoorl's hair knowledge and you've got me hooked.

(I have spent real life quality time with Whoorl and let me tell you, HER HAIR IS MAGICAL. I will do anything she tells me to do in regards to my hair.)

Whoorl and me, kicking it at BlogHer '07

So back in November Whoorl suggested (via the Advice Smackdown) that we all try dry shampoo. This is a product I'd been wanting to try for years. Mostly because my hair is super oily and requires I wash it daily. I love sleep and I am lazy. I do not want to have to wash and style my hair daily. I spent the 9 months I was pregnant with Babboo trying desperately to "train" my hair into not requiring daily washing.

This did not work. My hair remained an oil slick.

And then someone told me I could rub baby powder on my hair to eliminate some of the oil. I tried this and it seemed to work. Plus, I had an abundance of baby powder in my house.

Problem solved, right?

Well, not really "solved". My hair is uber dark and thin...so eventually the baby powder shows up like white dandruff. Which it is NOT!

So then Whoorl suggested we all try "dry shampoo". And in the comment section I wrote:

Okay, okay, I'll buy some at Sephora today on my lunch break. I promise.

And even though I had promised, once I got to Sephora and saw that the Ojon dry shampoo cost $24 for 4 ounces, I shuddered at this purchase and walked out of Sephora empty handed.

Since it was so close to Christmas I added the Ojon to my "wish list" that I gave to The King. And then forgot about Ojon and continued to douse my hair with baby powder.

Christmas morning came and I opened one of my present to find my own bottle of Ojon.

Happy days!

I'm pretty sure I used it that day and have continued to use it for the last month. Do I love it? Yes, I do. Does it work? Yes, it does. Does it work better then my past baby powder regime? Maybe a little. But not twenty four dollars better.

So here's my final thoughts on it:

I do love it. I will be sad when it's all gone. I will save up any gift cards I may get for Christmas and birthdays for more bottles. But I just justify spending my head earned money on it.

Dang, I'm cheap.

So, have any of you tried the dry shampoos out there? What do you think about them? And what about using baby powder? I'd love to hear what you all have to say!

In which you can now come over to visit my new house

2009-01-26T07:01:00.000-08:00

You may have heard mention that we haven't had a way to access our front door at the new house. That's right, we had to get inside our house by opening our garage and using the basement door and then walking upstairs to our living area. It really wasn't that bad to do this, but not really the best way to present our house to friends and family visiting for the first time.

But, get this, as of about 11 am on Saturday, January 24th, 2009 WE NOW HAVE STAIRS TO OUR FRONT DOOR.

STAIRS!

Oh my gosh. I was so giddy. So much so that I may have text messaged the news to some friends. Oh yes, this is big news at The King household.

And dude, I totally had Babboo do an inaugural walk down the stairs so I could take pictures...that's how exciting our new stairs were.

And now we can invite all of our friends over to our house. Of course we still don't have doors to our bathrooms...but hey, The King's working on it.

In which I scrapbook for the first time

2008-11-18T07:01:00.000-08:00

It's my grandma's 80th birthday in a few weeks. Her daughters, one of which is my mom, are throwing her a huge shin-dig over Thanksgiving weekend. In Utah. In keeping with our Celebrating Thanksgiving Outside of the US of A tradition we'll be in Canada and not in Utah that weekend. Oh well, no 80th birthday party for us. (Sorry Grandma. Maybe next time!)

At this party my mom and her sisters plan on presenting my grandma with a scrapbook with a photo page for every single one of her kids, grandkids and great grandkids. Months ago an e-mail went out from my aunt assigning us our scrapbook pages. I was told I needed to make a page for me. One for The King. And one for Babboo.

Dude, three pages.

Oh yeah, did I tell you that I've never ever scrapbooked before?

(Just because I'm a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Later-day Saints [Mormon] doesn't mean I automatically know how to scrapbook. Let's just get that straight.)

These scrapbook pages were supposed to include pictures of us with my grandma. I figured this was no problem as I have tons of pictures of me with her over the years. I even have quite a few pictures of her with Babboo. (No pictures of her with The King though.) I sent my pictures off to be printed a few weeks ago and then contacted my older brother Biff to see if he wanted to get together with me to scrapbook.

He's never scrapbooked either.

Man, what kind of Gay and Mormon are we that neither of us has never scrapbooked before?

(Bad ones, that's what kind.)

Last Thursday night Biff and I headed to the local craft store to purchase our scrapbooking supplies. First off, we weren't even sure what types of supplies we needed. We both knew we didn't want to spend very much money. The helpful lady suggested we buy the 12X12 paper and then just coordinate with some matching card stock to accent the photos.

Sounded easy enough.

Especially since I had loads of cute card stock at my house. I bought three pages that had red in them. My brother bought one page that was so ultra butch that it was also super gay. (He really should have just bought a damn rainbow page for as gay as his page turned out. I loved it!)

We headed back to my house and I unloaded my supplies as well as the multiple pictures I had printed out of me with my grandma through the years.

I quickly found out that I had way more pictures then would fit on the 12X12 page. Basically each page would only hold three pictures. I had to choose wisely.

I decided to put a few old pictures and a few new pictures on my page. Babboo's page is full of pictures of him with my grandma. Then instead of The King getting his own page I decided to have the last page be pictures of my little family. (I didn't have any pictures of The King with my grandma. Go figure.)

I found that I also owned more supplies then I realized. Who knew that all the stuff I use to make my own cards can also be sued for scrapbooking?! Really, I had no idea I was so supplied.

Even my brother was a little taken aback by my stash. I mean, dude, I even own a paper cutter, fancy scissors and glitter. (Oh man, I have loads of glitter.)

Once we got started time just flew by. Really, I have no idea how long it took the two of us to make four pages, but by the time we were done we were.....done. My kid was covered in glue stick and my floor was covered in glitter. And all we had to show were a couple of pages.

Today I'm mailing our pages so my mom can put them in the book to present at my grandma's birthday party next week. I suggested my mom make a color copy of the entire book for herself. I'm pretty sure this scrapbook is going to be priceless and a huge hit with my grandma.

My pages aren't the craftiest things in the world. But hey, I know my grandma will love them. And really, we all had fun making them!

Yes you can fit two people in a voting booth

2008-11-05T07:01:00.000-08:00

I registered to vote on my 18th birthday. At that same time I signed up for absentee voting. I was going to be moving away to college in a few months and I figured voting in the mail would be the easiest way to do it.

And so I voted absentee for the past 13 years.

But then we moved into our new house this summer, smack dab in the middle of a Presidential Election and I was afraid that something would go wrong with my address change and I would be able to vote. So months ago I did an online address change for my voting registration. I figured I would just in and vote. You know, with an actual number 2 pencil and a hole to fill in.

Babboo and I picked up The King from the bus stop last night and headed to our local voting local. Thankfully we only waiting in line for about 2 minutes (seriously). I got a little nervous when they said my name wasn't on their list. The King's name was, which was good. But dude, MY NAME WAS NOT ON THE LIST.

What if I wouldn't be allowed to vote?

I was shuffled over to a line and told I could vote using a provisional ballot. I admit I had never heard of this. But whatever, I was going to get vote.

And so, with my husband waiting off to the side and my child with me in the booth, I voted.

Voting, in real life and not by absentee, is pretty thrilling. Maybe I'll always do it this way!

My eyes are now "bare" and "natruale" apparently

2008-10-27T07:01:00.000-07:00

Here's the thing. I had a $5 coupon to try Loreal's new Bare Naturale Mascera. Plus Target had another coupon for $1 off. With a deal like that I couldn't not try it out. Right? It's not like I'm some sort of mascara whore or anything. Mostly because my eyelashes are already black and on the long end of the spectrum. So really I'm not looking for a mascara that will change the world for me...I just need something to take my lashes to the next level.

Typically I just buy the Sephora brand mascara. And it seems to work just dandy. But with this awesome coupon I wanted to try the new Loreal mascara.

Honestly my first thought was how light the package was. I'm not sure how much mascara should weight, but this bottle feels like it's full of air. Odd, I know. The texture of the mascara is pretty liquidy. But not so much that it runs off your lashes...it just isn't goopy when applied. This can be a good thing if your lashes tend to get all gooped together. The brush seems to work just fine and I haven't had any problems with my lashes sticking together.

What I have noticed is how I look like a freakin' raccoon every night after I wash my make up off. I don't use a specific eye make-up remover, but with this mascara it seems that maybe I should. It just won't come off. To some people this might be a good thing, but to me it just drives me batty. I find that I have to use a Q-tip to remove the last of my mascara the NEXT MORNING AFTER MY SHOWER. Yep, nothings taking this stuff off.

I'm not sure that my lashes are going to stop traffic any time soon. Like I said, my lashes are pretty okay, so I'm probably not the best demographic for mascara. But the Loreal Bare Naturale mascara is getting the job done, for now. Plus, the price is right.

I'd definitely buy it again. But only if I can get another $5 off coupon.

Anybody else out there tried it? What did you think?

For Your Chewing Pleasure

2008-10-23T11:07:00.000-07:00

I'm addicted to this gum.

I'm spending potential nap time to tell you about it and possibly limit my supply by letting you in on this secret.

My mom turned me onto this but had trouble finding it, so we spent a few days buying and discarding other similarly packaged gums before shouting EUREKA! in Target.

It's Dentyne BLAST, people. Winter Chill is the flavor. Trust me, your entire mouth will thank you.

The only sad part about this whole package is that it packs a wee NINE pieces of numminess. Can you not bulk-pack it? Like 20 packages to a package...so like 180 pieces? That might keep me happy for a week or so.

New Technology -- Read About it HERE FIRST!

2008-10-02T18:44:00.000-07:00

The date: October 2, 2008
The place: Upstate New York
The technology pioneer: that'd be me, Mrs. Squirrel.

The technology? Call-waiting.

Seriously. First time ever. Is the beeping always that loud?

I guess you could say I was bitten by Sarah Jessica Parker

2008-10-01T07:01:00.000-07:00

By now everyone has heard that Sarah Jessica Parker has her own clothing line, right? It’s called Bitten and you can only buy it at Steve & Barry’s, where everything is under $20!! But Steve & Barry’s isn’t located in downtown Seattle. I think it’s more of an east coast thing. Right? Anyway, there isn’t one in Seattle.

When we went to NYC last summer I made sure to stop at the local S&B to check out SJP’s Bitten line. At that time I bought a new winter coat, a pair of pants and a t-shirt. They were all under $20. I was happy with my purchases. (I have gotten so many compliments on the coat. Really, it’s cute.)

I had heard that there was a Steve & Barry’s in the state of Washington, I just wasn’t sure where. Well, last week I got online and found out it’s located in Everett city mall. Everett is about 40 minutes away from Seattle and also on the way to the local outlet mall. Last Saturday, with my mom in town, we decided to head out to Steve & Barry’s and the outlet mall. Hey, might as well hit them both.

It was going to be a perfect day.

My goal for that shopping day was to get some jeans that I could wear with regular shoes. You see, I’m short. Not super, duper short. But short enough. I’m about 5’ 5” and I have to wear every pair of pants I own with heels. Even my jeans are worn with heels. I wanted some pants that fit sans a 3” heel.

I was hoping to find some jeans at Ann Taylor. I love their jeans and figured the Petite ones would be perfect. Except guess what? The Ann Taylor loft didn’t have the jeans I liked. So yeah, NO JEANS.

But then I remembered that we were also going to check out SJP’s Bitten line later that day. And I knew the jeans would be less then $20. Hey, you can’t go wrong, right?

My mom and I walked into the store and instantly I fell in love with the new Bitten coats. But yeah, upon closer inspection it seemed a little cheap looking. Cute, but maybe a little too cheap. The jeans, on the other hand, looked pretty good. And for $9.98 I was sold. Even before I tried them on.

I grabbed my size in a "short" and ran into the dressing room. I thought they fit nicely and my mom agreed that they look decent enough. Especially for $9.98.

And so I bought myself a pair and I've been wearing them ever evening after work since last Saturday.

They aren't as dark of a wash as I would want. But again, for $9.98 I'm happy. And dude, the "short" isn't too short for me like most "shorts" are. In fact these are just the perfect length. I think I could even wear them with a bit of a heel, if I wanted to.

I'm anxious to hear what the rest of you think about Sarah Jessica Parker's Bitten line. Seriously, do tell!

Hello Craig! I'm Stacy. Let's do business.

2008-09-29T14:49:00.000-07:00

I'd heard of this Craig's List thingy and wanted to try it out before I was the last person on earth who'd used it...well, besides John McCain.

First, I looked there for a painter for The Back Porch Project. Right away, I found a young whippersnapper who listed a friendly ad and linked to his website featuring lovely before and after shots. I hired the young man on the spot -- I couldn't help it. I just had to give him a shot, since he was working so hard at establishing himself in the painting business.

Did I ask for references? Negatory. Did I get other estimates? Oh no. I just hired him and ... it worked out great. Whew. That could have turned out poorly, like the last 8 years of presidency. Just saying.

Next, I decided to sell my Hello Kitty coffeemaker. I was in one of my four stages of Depression: Purging material goods. Other stages include: Overeating, Shopping and Sulking. Purging is my favorite. While I heart longtime my Hello Kitty coffeemaker, I rarely used it, and we have no place for it in our kitchen. It sat at work, unused, and even though the little happy kitty perched on top of the coffeemaker could make even Strom Thurmond crack a smile (if he weren't dead.)(he's dead, right?), I had to part ways with it.

I wanted it to go to a loving, enthusiastic home, and after listing it for $15, I got nothing but crickets. Until...

an interest buyer in Ohio emailed me.

But wait, aren't I suppose to be wary of non-local buyers? Shoooot. What to do, what to do?

I emailed the prospective buyer and explained my hesitation. She emailed me back with her understanding of my predicament but still enthusiastically wanted the Kitty. I could feel her desire. She loved the kitty coffeemaker. She NEEDED the coffeemaker.

For God's sake, people...she tattooed Hello Kitty on her arm.

Long story shortish, I googled her Hello Kitty wanting ass, Facebook'd her, and realized unless she had an elaborate online fake persona, this girl was realin' and dealin'. I wrapped that bloody coffeemaker with enough bubblewrap to cushion a friggin Frigidaire and mailed it off with a nice note and a prayer.

One week later and looook who made some dough! This girl.

Tomorrow: Live-Blogging a Live-Show!

2008-09-16T08:36:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I will try something new related to blogging: I'll be live-blogging the making/attending of The Martha Stewart Show down in New York City! One of my bestest bloggy friends forwarded me an email about the Martha Show looking to fill her audience with bloggers. I hopped on that like stink on Diaper Champ and rounded up a friend to join me on the early train to NYC!

There I will be schlepping my laptop, a breastpump and assorted superfluous cosmetics so in the slim chance the camera pans my way, the light reflecting off my shiny forehead won't blind you, in the viewing audience..and what if I need my berry-colored gloss? Unless my eyes are bloodshot from getting up so g.d. early...which is why I'll also bring my more brown-based Prescriptives lipstick. Also? If you hear a loud whirring during the show, it's probably me pumping. I'm sure that won't interfere with production, right? Good.

We'll see how friendly New York is to breastpumping moms! Amtrak? Martha Stewart Show? Random shops and restaurants? I'm taking my pump to the streets. Let me in! Let me near your outlet! Let me pump!

As for live-blogging, which was really the point of this post, this should be about perfect for me -- the consumate second-guesser. I can write, publish, rephrase and republish, say something new, publish, rephrase and expand on, and continue this stream of consciousness right through the morning. Should be a good time, even if I won't be sitting near live reindeer.

I do wish she was going to be there...or this blogging icon. I'm trying to not to be ungrateful for the guests lined up...I'm trying to summon some excitement. I'm just not into food, political or gardening blogs. At all. The headlining guest? Sure as shit I'm excited.

What if we get to question Perez...what do you want to know? Anything from Martha?

Hair like you just walked off the beach?

2008-08-28T07:01:00.000-07:00

Last year I bought Bumble & Bumble's Surf Spray. I'd read about it over at Amalah's Advice Smackdown and decided I needed to try it. My cousin was working at a salon, so she got it for me for a steal. I think it was marked at $16 and she got it for me for $8. Which is still more then I can afford, but I went for it anyway!

My natural hair is already ~~wavy~~ ~~curly~~ not straight, so I wasn't quite sure what this surf spray would do to my hair. According to the Bumble & Bumble website the Surf Spray is:

Excellent for wavy types and surfers with winter blues; adds body to fine hair; a nice texture for silver hair.

According to Amalah's Advice Smackdown:

The whole point of the product (Surf Spray) is to add a bit of "grit" to your hair, aping that salt-and-sand crazy flyaway look you get at the beach.

I know the beach hair that Amalah's speak of and I know that I love it and want it. I used the Surf Spray as directed on the bottle:

Work through damp or dry hair; let dry naturally or blow-dry with a diffuser. Or on dry hair for detailing and adding lift at the roots. The less you touch it, the longer it will hold.

The thing is, I wasn't sure how much to use. I usually don't use a lot of product, so I didn't use a lot of the Surf Spray. Maybe six sprays throughout my hair. (Two on each side and two on the back.) Plus, I didn't want to waste all of this spendy product in this trial phase.

I saved it for special occasions and then mostly forgot about it. Yep, I forgot about it. I'm not sure if that means it didn't really work, or what. But I didn't use it that often.

A few weeks ago, while shopping at my local drug store I saw a product I hadn't seen before:

Sunsilk Waves of Envy Sea Mist.

According to the Sunsilk website:

Recreates a beachy look in a bottle. Sea salt attracts moisture from the air to create the perfect conditions for tousled beachy look.

Best of all if was only $3. I bought a bottle and tried it out the next day after I got out of the shower. Since it is so cheap I wasn't afraid to use a ton of it. And that's what I did, I sprayed and sprayed. And then I used my fingers to twist some big pieces of my hair. And then I used my diffuser, like I always do.

And while it doesn't make me look (or feel) like this:

It does make my hair look like this:

And, let's be honest, that's plenty good enough for a $3 bottle of hair product.

Visiting Woodland Park Zoo for the first time

2008-08-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

For Babboo's first birthday I took him, along with some family and friends, to a small zoo outside of Seattle. The King was deep in the middle of building the new house, so we left him at home to work.

Last Friday The King and I decided to cut out of work early and take Babboo to the local Woodland Park Zoo. The King hadn't been to the Woodland Park Zoo since he was a kid and Babboo and I had never been there.

Hooray for trying New Things!

The afternoon started off great with a visit to the gorilla house. Oh my goodness, my heart about melted when I saw the mommy gorilla all snuggled up next to the baby gorilla. It reminded me of all the nights Babboo and I slept like this when he was teeny tiny. (Dude, saggy nipple alert.)

As we were walking away from the gorilla house I noticed our friends walking toward they. I guess we weren't the only ones with the idea to leave work early for a trip to the zoo. I'm no mathematician, but I'm thinking the odds of running into our friends rights as we were both getting to the zoo are pretty high. I mean, not to sound like too much of a nerd, but dude, what are the chances?

I spent most of the day making my kid pose for all the usual pictures. I mean, what mom doesn't dream of having their kid's face on a butterfly?

I know I've always dreamed of it.

I've also always wanted to see what Babboo would look like as a caterpillar.

(For the record, he'd be a very cute caterpillar.)

Or how about a picture of my kid riding on a bear. Oh yes, it's long been a dream of mine.

And a dream of The King's, if I'm being honest here.

Of course it goes without saying that Babboo's favorite part of the day was eating his first push-up bar. He couldn't push that darn thing up fast enough. Of course it ended up breaking and ice cream wound up everywhere but in his mouth. Poor kid.

One of the crazy parts about hanging out with these certain friends of our is that our kids names are a little too close for comfort. Of course I paid no attention to this when we named Babboo. I hate having to call after them when they run away.

"Luke, Leia*, get back here!"

People look at us like were some type of freaky George Lucas fans

Of course Babboo and little Leia love hanging out. (Yes, Babboo is wearing the pants that I patched up for him. I think they are adorable.)

All in all, we had a very lovely time at the zoo. Only made that much nicer because of our friends.

* Not their real names. But you get the picture, right?

Dear Target, I Love You.

2008-08-22T17:35:00.001-07:00

I normally don't post my weekly Target finds here. I don't think I've even shared with you my addiction to orange handbags and totes. Why not start now?

I simply MUST because I'm in love, people, LOVE! L-O-V-E with my latest orange addition to my shoulderwear collection!

Loookkkeeeeee it. Love at first sight does indeed exist. As soon as that graphic popped, I planned out which Target to head to after work (the superstore, naturally -- better selection), grabbed a sandwich and pop from the little cafe across the hall and checked the clock. Oh crap. I still had 15 minutes left of work. Blahblahblah work gets done, then I hit the parking lot!

NOW nothing stood in my way! PAPRIKA PURSE -- YOU WILL BE MINE!

My GOD it took me several loops around the handbag department (yes, I know it's like 3 shelves) before finding it. I was sweating it though, peeps. Maybe our Targets wouldn't be getting the satchel. Maybe they've already been scooped up. Maybe MY SWEET PAPRIKA SATCHEL WASN'T TO BEEEEE.

But alas, there she was. On the fourth shelf (as I said, it was a superstore. duh!). If I didn't have to quickly drive home to pump, then deliver another bottle to daycare for the Nugget, I swear I would have swapped purses right there.

Eventually, the ceremonial purse swappage took place, and even though sporting a (gorgeous) paprika satchel in late August could be considered a tad premature, me no care. You jealous. Jealousy ugly. Booo you!

Regress much? Oops. Sorry!

So there you have it! Another stunning orange accessory to accompany my orange canvas satchel, orange canvas-poly-something-SO-not-organic tote, and orange canvas diaper bag.

Welcome home, love.

Oh yes, this old thing?

2008-08-17T22:06:00.000-07:00

Why shoot... I haven't introduced to this blog yet the GREATEST new thing in the past 5 months and 2 weeks of my life... it's The Nugget!

Just look at him! Isn't he cute? See, now you're not angry with me for never posting over here...I've been busy pinching those CHEEKS! He's dreamy. I'm in love...all over again.

Having two children definitely more than doubles the work, but the highs of having children also reach so much higher, which I didn't think was possible. The lows, unfortunately, also dip further into hair-pulling-out-dom. They don't last as long, though -- I can't wallow in the tantrums. I don't have time. I calm one, then calm the other and then it's go time. Distraction! Shiny happy things! Weee let's throw stuffed animals at each other over the guestroom bed while I shield Baby Nugget with a pillow! What? You don't play that game?

It does get better...for those of you thinking of having two or in the overwhelming throes of having a new baby or two. It gets great, in fact.

Jojo and The Nugget are such different babies (well, Jojo is a Big Boy, and he'll tell you that). What we were used to with Jojo's infancy can now only be remembered -- through our swiss cheesed memories, or thankfully, those captured on film or video. But let's see if I can remember some of the main differences:

Jojo -- pooped at least three times a day.
The Nugget -- poops every 8-10 days.

Jojo -- came out big, but then slimmed down
The Nugget -- came out somewhat big and has only got bigger...he's currently only five pounds lighter than his older brother!

Jojo -- hated baths for the longest time.
The Nugget -- loves to lounge and kick in the tub. No worries!

Jojo -- spit up only a handful of times.
The Nugget -- spits up handfuls after every feeding.

Thankfully, they share many commonalities -- like that we're flipping crazy for them, they're both healthy and thriving, and they love to snuggle, smile and coo.

I'm so happy being the mother of two boys. Every day I learn something new about them and about myself, and even if at the end of the day I'm achingly exhausted, I still look forward to tomorrow's adventures.

Jojo's new role as a big brother has been incredible to watch. He seemed to understand that his brother was in mommy's belly, but I wasn't sure how it would be once he saw the screaming bundle of Nugget. We introduced him to his brother right away. He just kind of looked, repeated his name, then continued on opening his Big Brother present we brought with us to the hospital.

The nurses needed to take the baby for testing, so Mr. Squirrel and Jojo accompanied the Nugget in his rolling bassinet up to the nursery. While Mr. Squirrel and Jojo took their places in front of the glass outside the nursery, a group of touring expectant parents entered the hallway to check out the facilities.

"Look who we have here," said the tour guide, a nurse, "a brand new baby."

One of the expectant fathers wondered aloud if the Nugget was a boy or a girl.

Jojo informed them: "That's baby brother. MY baby brother. Baby Nugget."

He's been proud, protective and loving ever since. I think Jojo would label his new baby brother as we would: a wonderful gift who gives us great joy.

And now maybe I can dress myself a little easier

2008-08-08T07:01:00.000-07:00

The King and I have been married for eight years (or it will be eight years on Monday). And during those eight years I've asked him to buy me a full-length mirror. Every birthday, Christmas, anniversary, and Mothers Day I ask for one.

Yes, on every single gift-giving holiday I make this one request:

"Buy me a damn full-length mirror already!"

And every time The King tells me of his plan to build an entire wall of mirrors in the bathroom for me.

The idea sounds awesome and something I'm totally down with. But dude, it has yet to happen. We've built two houses and neither of them has a wall of mirrors.

On Monday night we went to IKEA to procure more curtains for the new house. Oh yes, I'm still working on hemming curtains for the million and six windows in our house. (While I'm cursing the amount of windows in the house right now, I'm sure I'll be thankful for them come the dark months this winter.)

Anyway, back to IKEA.

While The King was busy loading our cart up with pots for our new deck (that's right, we have [part of] a deck!)...I waltzed over to the mirror section and dreamed of one day having my own full-length mirror.

Then it hit me. Yeah, just throw a damn mirror in your cart and call it good.

And so that's what I did.

For our anniversary on Monday, I'm asking The King to get out his hammer and nails and hang my new mirror to the inside of my closet door.

(I am kicking myself for not doing this years ago. The stupid thing was only $9.)

($9, people. Why did I wait so long?!)

(I won't have to wait until I get into the office to use the full-length mirror in the bathroom at work. Now I know what I look like before I leave the house.)

Having a birthday isn't "new", but being 36 is!

2008-07-31T07:01:00.000-07:00

Mrs. Squirrel is 36 today. It's her latest New Thing and it's very fabulous. Just like she is.

Here's hoping that we can all look at fabulous as she does when we're her age!

Keeping it real at BlogHer '07

I've never done an iron-on quite like this before

2008-07-28T07:01:00.000-07:00

Babboo has this one pair of jeans that my mom bought him. They've always been my favorite, for whatever reason. When he fell down on his way home from school and got a hole in the knee I was bummed. I hated to see the end to my favorite little jeans.

I hoped The King's mom could cut them off, above the hole, and make them into shorts for our upcoming trip to Europe. Unfortunately the hole was too high to make shorts. Instead I decided to patch the hole, ala circa 1977!

Of course patching a hole in jeans is something I had never done before. I didn't even have any instructions, just a small piece of left over patch material The King's mom gave me.

It can't be that hard to do, right?

First, you start with a super cute little pair of jeans. With a hole in the knee:

Next you need to cut the patch to the right size of the hole. (I used the bottom of a cup to get the sizing correct.):

I wasn't sure what setting to use on my iron. So yeah, I just used "cotton". I figured it would need to be pretty hot:

Then I placed the patch over the hole and tried to decide exactly where I wanted the patch to go.

Next I started to iron it on. I pushed down pretty hard, but I'm not sure if you really have to. Seriously, where are the instructions on how to do this properly?

Of course I did all this while Babboo was taking a nap on the couch. And I used my timer setting since The King was busy in the back yard building our deck.

All in all, I'm pretty happy with how good the iron-on patch worked. I just hope I did it right. I mean, I didn't have any instructions! I could have been missing the very important step that includes using glue. Or water. Or an actual thread and a needle.

Whatever. I'm sure these will work just fine!

Hey look, I'm talking about bikini waxing. Again.

2008-07-01T07:01:00.000-07:00

My unofficial title is Interweb Queen of Brazilian Waxing. You all know that, right? It’s not a title I take lightly. So what if I gave myself that title. It’s still important for me to stay up to date on the latest Brazilian waxing trends.

(Oh yes, there are trends when it comes to waxing Maybe one day we’ll talk about pubic hair coloring. And geometric shapes.)

I had purchased the GiGi Brazilian Bikini Microwave Wax Kit on Amazon a while back, but continued to get waxed professionally. Unfortunately we’re going on vacation this weekend and I didn’t have time to make an appointment to go into the spa. Our vacation will involve some bikini time, so I knew I needed to clean myself up a little bit. Which meant I was doing my own brazilian wax, at home.

I’ve done this before using the Nair at home wax and it’s been fine. Really, I never had any complaints. But this GiGi brand is a hard wax and that’s something I wanted to try.

Using a hard wax means there is no messy cloth strip used to rip your hair out. Instead you apply the wax, which then hardens, and you simply pull it off with ease. The product description says its “fast, efficient and gentle”.

Guess what?

It totally was. With a little help from my trusty chair in my vanity area and a mirror I was able to get the job done. It took less time, was easier, cleaned up better and, I PROMISE, hurt less. Way, way less. (This might be less because of the product and more from my deadened nerves.)

I’m 100% totally hooked on this product. So much so that I’m pretty sure I’m going to forgo getting brazilian waxes done professionally. With the money I save from no more spa visits I can buy as many at-home kits as I want and do this every other weekend.

Is GiGi paying me to say this?

I wish.

If you’ve been nervous to try giving yourself a wax (any type of wax), I would recommend you try GiGi’s out. And if you want, I can even come over and help you heat up the wax in the microwave. Don’t believe the directions and heat it for more then a minute.

Remember, Hair Free Is The Way To Be!

In which I learn how to use my sewing machine

2008-06-25T07:01:00.000-07:00

I never took a sewing class in high school. I wanted to, but Sewing 101 was only taught third hour. And I had Yearbook Staff third hour. I was smart enough to know not to drop out of the yearbook staff for some crappy sewing class.

(Looking back I’m pretty sure sewing skillz would have helped me better then the photo cropping skillz I learned during my stint on the yearbook staff.)

What I’m saying here is that I have no idea how to sew. If placed in front of a sewing machine I can sew a straight(ish) line. But please don’t ask me anything about patterns or threading bobbins.

Please.

Long ago I inherited an old sewing machine from The King’s mom. It came in its own carrying case and had its original Operators Manual. It appeared to be awesome. Did it work? Who knows?!

This weekend I found out that it does, in fact, work.

(And by “work” I mean that I read the manual and figured out how to sew a straight line using said machine.)

Using my own skillz that I have amassed over my thirty plus years on this earth, I used my awesome hand-me-down sewing machine and hemmed our new IKEA curtains in our master bedroom this weekend.

Check out how they looked Before. All long and dumb looking. This was so not going to work in our new house. (You like the blue painters tape stuck on the wall? Yeah, I'll tell Babboo. He's very proud of his handy work.)

It took me a few minutes with some stick pens and a tape measure, but eventually I figured out where I needed to cut the curtains before I began sewing. I hate the cutting part. It's so permanent.

Gulp.

(Yep, I am wearing my iPod. I hadn't quite yet finished the "Twilight" series. I finished it on Sunday night. It rules.)

(Yes, that's our bathroom doors stacked in the corner. We're still waiting for the hardware before we hang them. For now, no doors on our bathrooms. Remember that before you think about coming out to visit.)

(That is Babbo's orange tool box on top of the pile of doors. Dude, I wish he could actually help out. We sure could use it.)

I began sewing as soon as Babboo went down for his nap. I wasn't sure how much I could get done before he woke up. Plus, I didn't know how long I'd be able to stand and sew. (As of Monday night we didn't own a table.)

I decided I'd do double duty and use both the hemming tape (provided by IKEA, thanks) and sewing the hems. First I ironed the hemming tape on and then the fun part (the actual sewing?) began.

I was surprised when I found that I actually liked doing this. Really. It was fun. And easier then I would have imagined.

I hung up the first (of four) panels to see how it turned out. May I say...it turned out perfectly. There was just the right amount of distance between the curtains and the radiator.

Preston approves of my handy dandy sewing skillz. Although he may not approve of his new haircut. Poor cat.

Okay, so the sewing took a little longer then I expected. Babboo woke up in the middle. And I wasn't in the mood to stop. I was on a roll and didn't know when I'd get the chance again. So I plopped the kid in front of the back door so he could watch The King and Papa work on our deck.

This little plan worked perfectly. Babboo was totally content to just sit on his chair, eating animal crackers and "helping fix". I'm such a smart mom. (Haaa!)

After too many hours to admit to, the curtains were completed.

I'm pretty proud of myself. But not proud enough to start sewing my own clothes. Or anything besides a straight line.

So tell me, anybody out there actually made their own curtains from scratch? Is that hard? Cheap? I mean, should I try that or just stick to IKEA curtains?

2 years, 8 months

2008-06-17T20:03:00.000-07:00

that's how long it takes for me to shrug of styling (um, brushing) Jojo's hair. Suddenly, my son's hair whacked out and needs occasional brushing. Oh no. I won't commit to daily brushing. And you should have seeeeen the smirk I gave the stylist at SnipIts who recommended some kiddie mousse to me. Was she for real? I was searching for the hidden camera but never found it.

But this hot mess? I did the ol' lick palm and flatten (that's FREE, ladycakes!)...which, admittedly, looked awful and forced me to grab my brush.

I probably need to start having Jojo do it himself, but he's still rather skeptical of brushes and combs, since we rarely use them on him. A slow introduction to the art of hair maintenance, I'm guessing, is in order. Maybe mommy can find him a Curious George brush next time I'm at Target...

No Tip Necessary!

2008-06-15T20:02:00.000-07:00

Anyone who has had kids knows the wonderful gift of food delivered to the sleep deprived family.

We gratefully accepted meals from neighbors and my moms group. Mr. Squirrel and I marveled at the thoughtfulness and sighed at the ease of making a nutrious dinner simply by following the heating instructions thoughtfully included with the congratulations note attached to the pan.

With the casseroles coming to an end, and my visiting mom not returning to town for a few weeks, we stared bleakly into each other's eyes and considered ordering pizza...but then I remembered the gift certificate from my colleagues for FamilyChef -- SIX Mega Meals meals we could choose and have flown to us within days!

My husband and I pulled up the website and chose our six meals: Zesty BBQ Pork Ribs, Savory Beef Pot Roast, Jumbo Buffalo Wings with Peach Cobbler, Bavarian Meat Loaf, Chicken Cordon Bleu and Southern Shrimp Creole. Thinking of the nursing newborn, I tried to pick meals that didn't contain too much spice, tomato sauce or onions, thereby eliminating most of the pasta dishes. That's fine by me -- bring on the meat, ya'll!

Oh were we excited when the package arrived! Thankfully, we thought ahead to make room in our tiny side-by-side freezer by eating the perogies, ravioli and other items we'd forgotten about in the past months.

The package from FamilyChef arrived in a tightly boxed styrofoam cooler, packed in dry ice and indicating the need to immediately unpack & freeze. The six meals were packed efficiently and labeled clearly -- obviously, the company takes packaging and shipping seriously.

As soon as my husband arrived home, we heated up two of the meals. The website indicates that each meal serves up to two people, but with our appetites, I knew we'd each need our own meal. Plus, we tend to make the "main course" of any meal, and the side dishes usually consist of bagged salad or one vegetable item. We still don't have the "full meal" down yet, so the protein and vegetable or starch contained in each MegaMeal would be it for us.

Hi. Meet the Bavarian Meatloaf and Chicken Cordon Bleu before they're devoured by hungry and sleep-deprived parents.

It took only three days for us to eat our way through the six MegaMeals, and that includes sharing some of each meal with our toddler, Jojo. I'm a little shocked and please to report that all six meals were delicious.

I'll admit -- I'm no "foodie," but I also know bland and overspiced. These meals were neither. I kind of expected them to be underspiced, so I'd set out the salt & pepper...the first night. After the first two tasty dishes, I knew the next four would be equally delicious. Even my husband, who tends to criticize ("make suggestions") had nothing but glowing praise...not once did he wish for more garlic or for them to ease up on the paprika. It was allll goood.

So if you're looking for the perfect gift for new parents, your friend who lives alone and hates to cook or even grandparents, the Squirrel family heartily suggests thinking of FamilyChef. I guarantee your loved ones will thank you!

The New House

2008-06-10T07:01:00.000-07:00

Last week, after moving into our new house, Carly sent me an e-mail and asked me what my favorite thing in the new house was.

Wow, my favorite thing? That's a hard one. Mostly, I told her, I was just happy to be out of our one bedroom apartment. I'm happy to not be sharing a bedroom with my Sweet Babboo. I'm happy to be able to shower while The King also takes a shower (in his own shower.) (Dude, we don't shower together. Nekkid boys? Gross.)

So after living in the new house for a few more days and thinking more and more about Carly's question, I figured out what truly is my favorite thing about the new house.

And so, may I present you with video, as proof of it's awesomeness:

So tell me, what is your favorite thing in your house?

*Please don't judge the messy house. We're still trying to unpack things. And, be assured, we bought a toilet paper holder which should slow down Babboo. But um yeah, it hasn't been installed yet.

In which my new commute kills me

2008-06-04T07:01:00.000-07:00

When I first moved to Seattle (over eight years ago last weekend), I was afraid of riding the bus. Okay maybe not afraid, but I was definitely nervous about it. Maybe cautious is a better word.

Yeah, I was cautious of bus riding.

Which means that I would rather walk up the hill to my apartment then take the bus.

Over time I realized this was lame. I was being lame. I needed to grow up and just figure out how the bus system worked. So I asked one of my coworker (who was also newish to the city) to teach me how to ride the bus. He explained what direction my bus pass needed to face when I scanned it. He told me all about Free Ride Zones and when you had to pay when you got off the bus or when you got on the bus (depends on what direction from the city you are headed).

After my tutorial I started riding the bus. I had this new found freedom that I loved. I was able to get a free bus pass from my work and using Metro's website to plan my trips, I could go anywhere.

I felt so lame for missing out on months that I could have been hopping around the city with my bus pass in tow.

(I can be such an idiot sometimes.)

So that was like seven years ago and about a million bus rides ago. Dude, I consider myself to be a bus-riding-fool and I've taught my kid to be the same. For years I rode the bus to and from work everyday. I would pack a book and just enjoy my time alone. (Well, as alone as you can be with a bus full of commuters.) I didn't think anything about waiting in the rain for my bus to come. I adjusted and just wore a hat. No big deal.

Almost three years ago we moved to downtown Seattle where my commute consisted of walking a few blocks to my office every day. This new commute didn't allow for any "alone time" or book reading. Basically it was just enough time to listen to two short songs on my iPod.

I quickly feel in love with my new commute and found myself bragging to anyone at my office that would listen about how awesome it was to get to work so fast.

Dude, I walked to work.

AWESOME.

I remember someone once mentioning to me that I was probably ruining myself with this commute. I mean, he said, there was no way I would ever have another commute as awesome as the one I had while living in downtown.

We moved into our new house last weekend. There went my two-song-commute.

I'm back to daily bus rides into the city for work. The King takes Babboo with him on the bus in the morning and I bring him back with me in the afternoon. (The King works much later then I do, so this allows Babboo to be in daycare for less time then typical.)

For some reason the bus ride home is perfect. There is always a bus waiting for us when we get to the bus stop and the ride is like 15 minutes with a short walk to our house.

But, for some odd reason, my commute in the morning is a k-i-l-l-e-r. It is taking me over an hour from door to door. What in the crap am I doing wrong and how I can fix it?

(Don't answer that.)

I just need to get a better handle on my morning commute. And maybe get a good book to read. That way I might actually look forward to my commute time.

So yeah, commuting on the bus might actually turn into a good thing.

Wish me luck.

So tell me, am I the only person that has been ~~afraid~~ ~~nervous~~ cautious about riding the bus?

What's on your Netflix queue?

2008-05-15T07:01:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago Rhi posted on her blog about some coupons she had for a free month of Netflix. I jumped at the chance to help her unload one of her coupons. Sure, The King and I had used Netflix when they first started, a million years ago. But things were different now. They offer so many different options and movies and goodness. I was itching to try it again.

Plus dude, it's a free!

I signed up for the highest program; 4 movies at a time, unlimited for the month. Dude, if it's free then I'm going balls to the wall. I knew what I wanted to put on my queue instantly:

The entire first season of How I Met Your Mother.

The King and I spent last weekend in a daze of Barney and Marshall. And we loved every (FREE!) minute of it. But after watching about 38 million episodes of HIMYM, we weren't sure what else to put on our queue.

Then I remembered my birthday was coming up and about how I'd always wanted The King to watch Lonesome Dove with me. So yeah, I added that to the queue. We're about 2.5 hours into the mini series and I think (I think) The King likes it. Although he's having a hard time remembering who all the characters are. Frankly, this surprises me.

I have a few more minutes of Hairspray and then I can return that movie. And then 27 Dresses is coming. And then Waitress and Dan in Real Life. It's very clear that The King has added nothing to our queue. That's probably for the best.

We have until June 4th to cancel. I hate to say, but we'll probably cancel after our free month is up. We really just aren't that into movies (especially since we don't watch rated R movies, ever!).

Plus, season two of Dexter isn't available on Netflix.

So tell me, do you Netflix? What do think the pros/cons of it are? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

My first Flickr Group - Mission: Put Together

2008-05-07T07:01:00.000-07:00

At the start of May OperationPinkHerring and RA put together a fun little online group called Mission: Put Together.

Mission: Put Together is about trying to be more "put together" with your work attire and then posting pictures of yourself to a the M:PT Flickr group. This mission isn't about showcasing your most expensive items or your tightest jeans. It's about putting together more "intentional and cohesive, but not necessarily trendy or expensive" outfits. And then, you know, posting pictures for all the world to see and judge.

(We don't judge. We only love.)

RA started the month off right by posting this picture of her wearing a saucy dress with some gorgeous red accents. Then OperationPinkHerring kept it real by posting this picture of her in the mirror simply holding her shoes since she doesn't have a full length mirror. (I don't have one either. Note to The King: I wouldn't mind a full length mirror in the new house.)

And here's where me and my New Thing enter into this scenario. My first Flickr group!!

On the first day of May, I accepted the Mission. I would try to be more put together at work in May. I would share picture for all of the interweb to view.

It started with a plain cotton shirt and some jewelry. Oh, and a crappy picture taken in my work bathroom with some toilet paper in the background. Nothing says "put together" like a rogue piece of TP.

The next day was Friday, and I was a little better about my outfit. Okay, so the picture wasn't better. But I tried a little harder to be put together. (Dude, why is my work bathroom so damn dark?!) It must be noted that on this day, a coworker asked me about this particular look. She was all "what is that, a jacket?" I explained that it was a blazer. And then I told her I liked the sweats she had chosen to wear that day.

This week started with me wearing the shirt I get the most compliments on. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's the color (deep purple). Maybe it's the texture (satin-yummy!), or maybe because it's loose and people think it's a maternity shirt. Whatever...it was on sale. And it's cozy.

(I'm standing like an idiot to try to showcase my shoes. Bought at a thrift store. BRAND NEW!)

By Tuesday I was a little tired of sneaking into the bathroom at work with my camera and trying to take a picture of myself in the mirror, sans flash, even though it so just dark in there. Instead I tried to take a picture of my outfit while standing on the toilet at home. This is how I have to assess my outfits at home, due to my lack of a full length mirror.

Yeah, I didn't really have better luck. I had to hunch down so I wouldn't hit the ceiling. Plus dude, I'm standing on a toilet. (The fact that I'm wearing my favorite red shoes does help a little. At least I think so.)

This morning, before heading out to walk to work, I tried out the timer on my little camera. (Which, we all know, I'm not that good at using.) The picture turned out a little less yellow. And dude, my super cute and furry cat is in it. So pretty much, that makes any lame outfit cuter.

It's been more fun to choose my outfits knowing that they will be posted on the interweb. It makes me spend a little more time on my hair. (Look at how many times I've actually straightened it in the last few days! Go me!) It also has encouraged me to dig deeper into my vast jewelry collection.

Thanks RA and OPH, for taking the time to encourage me take the extra time in my day to present myself a little better.

So now, why don't YOU (yes, I'm talking to you, all sitting there in your cubicle in your sweat pants and flip flops) head on over and join the Mission: Put Together Flickr group. We'll all do it together and it will be fun.

In which I take your advice

2008-04-21T07:01:00.000-07:00

Hi. I got bangs.

Thanks for all of your suggestions on what the crap to do with my hair! It's been a week and I haven't cursed them yet.

And although you would think, by the look on my face, that I hate my new bangs, I do not hate them. What I do hate is 6:30 on a Monday morning.

In which I use a magic cream on my face that is specifically designed for my lady-parts

2008-04-07T07:01:00.000-07:00

I've been reading Amalah's Advice Smackdown since long before it was hosted over at AlphaMom. I value Amalah, and her readers, opinions on make-up, hair products, and pretty much everything else. (I been such a loyal fan that Amalah even asked me to write about two of my favorite topics for the site: nail care and brazilion waxing.)

I have an extra oily complexion and have never known what to do about said oil. I have learned, from Amalah, not to wash my face in the morning (too harsh!) and not to touch it during the day (gross, oils from hands!) and to keep my hair out of my face (more oils!). And while I admit that has helped ease up on my oil issues, it hasn't really cured them.

Over a year ago I started using the Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer and loved it. I talked it up to anyone that would listen. It made my eyelids less oily and helped my eyeshadow stay the same color all day (it usually turns orange on my face by the end of the day).

Lately I'd been especially curious about Amalah's talk on foundation primers (specifically the Smashbox brand that she loves). The problem is that the price tag on the Smashbox Primer isn't conducive to "trial price", and really, I don't use a foundation . I wasn't sure if a foundation primer would be needed if you know, I wasn't actually wearing foundation.

Back in January Amalah did a Price Tag Cage Match between the new (Target) Boots make-up line, specifially their foundation primer. I was hoping the Boots brand would come up the clear winner and I would happy fork over the $10 for the Boots brand and be happy! Alas, Amalah was not at all impressed with the Boots brand and again, suggested the $36 Smashbox brand. When I read that my heat broke a little, because seriously, I can't afford $36 primer. (But I can afford an upcoming trip to Europe? Don't ask.)

The great thing about Amalah's post was what Fidget said in the comments section. Fidget admitted that she uses the Monistat Soothing Care Gel on her face as her foundation primer! Fidget said:

The gel is completely clear and looks and feels just like Smashbox primer. It makes my face feel like satin, it totally cuts any shine, and makes my foundation stay put. I've even cheated and used it on my eyelids to help my eye makeup stay where it belongs. I have exactly precisely religiously identical results with the powder-gel as I did with the Smashbox primer. No breakouts, no allergic reactions, no weeping into a martini when it all went horribly wrong. Just more cash in the knock-off handbag I bought before Amalah told us not to.

I kid you not, seconds after reading this I went right out the door and walked across the street to my local Rite-Aid and happily forked over $7 for a large tub of the Monistat Gel. The next morning I applied it, sparingly, over my face and did my make-up like I usually do. Low and behold, no oil problems. Really. My face stayed matte and lovely. Not only that, I applied it to my eyelids and was able to forgo the eyeshadow primer I love so much ($16 in my pocket).

I've been using what I like to refer to as the "magic vagina cream" on my face for almost three months now and I still love it. My tube isn't even half empty (half full?) yet,which means I definitely getting my money's worth.

I love it so much I've even convinced others, like FluentBrittish to use it. I checked in with her yesterday to see what her thoughts on the product were and this is what she had to say:

I have really oily skin, and I spend a lot of time blotting with tissues, re-applying powder, and photoshopping. By 1:00 in the afternoon, I usually have reflective beams bouncing off every surface of my face (I'm a lot like the moon). A neighbor of mine is a Mary Kay Consultant, and she let me try some Oil Mattifier under my make-up. I was amazed at the reduction of facial shining I experienced. I later purchased some of the product, but it costs $15 and comes in an itty, bitty tube, so I feel like I can only use a little bit each day so it will last a long time.

Sometimes I'm too much of a follower, so when Isabel e-mailed me and said, "Dude! Put Monistat on your face!" (those may or may not have been her exact words) I responded with a simple, "Whatever you say, ma'am!"

When I used it for the first time, I was amazed at the texture because it feels exactly like a make-up primer sample I tried from Sephora. I've been using it for about six weeks, and seriously, it is great! My skin is a lot less shiny at the end of the day, and I hardly ever have to "blot" anymore. The best part is that the product is totally cheap, so I don't feel like I have to cheat myself. I use it on my entire face and neck. On special occasions, I apply the Monistat and then use a little Mary Kay Oil Mattifier on my t-zone. Together, they work wonders.

I have acne prone skin, so I was a little worried that a Monistat product (obviously not made for faces) might clog my pores or cause me to break out, but it hasn't. Monistat Soothing Care Gel has been kind to me (and my husband Scotty, who used some on his thighs for basketball last week). It's the best beauty secret I've heard in a long time.

On a side note: I, too, use Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer, and I love it, but when it runs out, I'm all Monistat, Baby!

Thanks for your review, FluentBrittish! I'm anxious to hear what others have to say about this product. And honey, if you haven't tried it, I suggest you go out and buy a tube of the Monistat Soothing Care Gel today.

You'll thank me.

Diapers that make you feel good about using them

2008-03-31T07:01:00.000-07:00

While watching one of the many "Be Green" shows out there, The King saw a show that talked about the latest in environmentally friendly diapers. The King was very excited about this and got online the next day and ordered us the Starter Pack of gdiapers.

So what is a gdiaper*?

Well let me tell you, since they are pretty freakin' awesome.

According to their website: gdiapers consist of a washable, cotton outer pant and a plastic free flushable refill. They are made of breathable material just like sports clothing. So, babies stay dry and happy and are far less likely to get diaper rash. Can't flush? It's ok to toss flushable refills because they're plastic-free. Or garden compost the wet ones. They'll break down in 50-150 days.

Yes, you read that right, you can totally flush the diaper down the toilet. This is so much better then throwing your disposal diaper in a landfill and having it sit there for hundred of years.

I admit that the first time I flushed one of Babboo's new gdiapers down the toilet it clogged up our toilet. It was bad. I freaked out. I stepped in potty water. I really, really freaked out. The problem was I didn't flush it just right. I was hasty and didn't read the correct way to flush. But it's cool since we live in an apartment and someone else has to fix our pipes. (I kid. The King got the offending clog all fixed.) Even if you're not comfortable flushing the gdiapers in your toilet (I won't flush them if I'm at someone else's house), you can just throw them away. The gdiapers biodegrad in 50 days. You can even put the wet (not poopy) diapers in your composting.

Seriously, gdiapers are something that we can feel good about.

The first question anyone asks when they hear we're using flushable diapers is if they are more money then regular diapers. Well, of course they are. They aren't horribly expensive, but they aren't as cheap as the Target brand we've been using. It's really a small price to pay knowing that we're doing our part to Save the Planet. Plus, Babboo's school won't use anything besides regular disposable diapers, so we're only using the gdiapers at home. Naturally this cuts down on our cost.

The gdiapers seem to absorb just as well as the disposable diapers we were using before. Babboo has occasional leaks at night. But this has always been typical with him.

We currently have two sets of the cloth diaper part. Since we're not using them full time we probably don't need too many of them. We do need more then two though, and will be buying more this week. We'll also be buying more of the plastic inserts. They are like $1.50, so that's no big deal.

So, what's the final word on gdiapers? We love them. It's been a few weeks and we're used to using them. We feel good about it every time we flush them down the toilet. And Baboo loves his new "potty diapers".

* I was in no way, shape, or form compensated for this review of gdiapers.

Dying eggs with a toddler will usually result in cracked eggs

2008-03-24T07:01:00.000-07:00

When I was little we always dyed Easter eggs. My mom would set out bowls full of different colors and the kids would have a hay day mixing colors and designing our eggs. As we got a little older my mom realized that while we all liked to dye eggs, nobody really liked to actually eat hard-boiled eggs.

So she quit boiling them. From then on out we dyed regular eggs. Believe it or not, it worked just fine.

Of course when my parents starting raising their own chickens which produced brown eggs, the dyeing wasn't as much fun. Yeah, that didn't work too well.

I've got my own kid now. And I like egg salad sandwiches.

This last Saturday Babboo and I packed up our car and headed way out to the suburbs of Seattle to visit my aunt and her family. And to dye eggs.

I prepped Babboo for the day by telling him that Auntie had a big piano. He loves to play his mini piano, the thought of being allowed on a big piano made him very excited. As soon as we walked in the door of my aunt's house he sat up on the bench and began playing away.

That is until the cat joined him.

The funny thing about Babboo and cats is that he calls all of them Preston. And while Preston is our cat's name, it isn't the name of my aunt's cat. Needless to say my aunt's cat didn't respond to Babboo when he said, "stop Preston!".

After the piano concert was over, we began coloring our eggs. Babboo was happy to color on them with his crayons. Too bad he was so aggressive and cracked most of the eggs before they were even dipped in the dye. My aunt and I made sure to use the cracked eggs for our egg salad sandwich lunch.

We didn't make too many eggs. Which is fine since nothing really holds Babboo's attention for very long. This little stash was plenty.

It's a good thing my aunt lives so close to a park. That definitely held his attention.

(My kid is such a City Kid. He truly never gets to play in a typical park. He had a blast climbing and crawling and getting dirty. He especially loved going down the slide with my teenage cousin. I made her take him down because I was pretty sure I would get stuck in the slide. It was tiny.)

In which I tell you about my first mini-facial

2008-03-12T07:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, before picking up Babboo from school, I met my good (and very pregnant) friend Vesper at our local Gene Juarez salon and spa. Vesper was lucky enough to hook us both up with a special promotional mini-facial. Apparently the spa was trying out some new products and wanted to try them out on some lovely ladies. Enter Vesper (who, although very pregnant, is smokin' hott) and myself (who is not pregnant and not even steamin' hott). We were both pretty jazzed and anxious for a quick (read: hour) mini-facial. Mostly I was looking forward to an hour outside of my apartment and some mommy-time.

And since sparkling cider and dipped strawberries were involved, it was better then I could have imagined. Look at me chilling out in the waiting area. You can almost see my wrinkles and stress leaving my face. And time? Who worries about silly things like time when you're getting a mini-facial?

Nothing makes you forget the fact that you're lugging around a child in your womb like spending some (well deserved) time at the spa. Vesper rocked the robe the spa gave us. And I hated blacking out her eyes...because darn, the robe really made our blue eyes just pop. Nothing makes you feel like a bigger loser then having your pregnant friend looking way better then your non-pregnant self. Hey, I'm just sayin'.

Unfortunately I had to bug out early to pick up my kid before closing time at the school. Fortunately I was able to receive the full facial and only miss out on the "make-up portion" of the event. I am currently set on my make-up routine. But I did need some assistance with my skin. So this facial was just what the doctor ordered.

Today, my skin feels rejuvenated. I feel like I'm 19 again.

Okay, that's a lie. But it was a good way to spend my afternoon. Thanks Vesper, for letting me tag along!

My first Murder Mystery!

2008-03-07T07:01:00.000-08:00

Usually I'm pretty particular about the types of books that I read. Well, not so much that I stick to a specific type of book...it's more of "I know what I like and I will only devote my precious reading time to something I like". I am not afraid to stop reading a book that I don't like. I hear that most readers have to finish a book once they start it. I do not suffer from this. If the books sucks, then I'm done with it. That is, except if I'm stuck at home and am too sick to do anything besides read the books I have right then. Even if they aren't that good.

Let me first explain why I happened to have a shiz-load of books that I wouldn't normally choose at my house.

Okay, so our apartment building has a library for all the residents to enjoy. It's full of movies and games and books. Usually, when I've looked, it's been full of crap books that look like they were purchases in the 60's and then used, in the 70's, as toilet paper. Seriously, the books in the apartment library are gross. A few months ago I noticed some brand new books in the library. They looked interesting enough, so I picked them all up and took them upstairs with me. (Management at the apartment had recently deemed the library "too full" and had suggested we keep any books we wanted.) I put the books in my bedside table and promptly forgot about them. That is, until I was too sick to move and the only books I could reach where the books from the apartment library.

And this is how I read my first my first mystery novel. Ever.

That's right people, never in my thirty-something years had I ever read a mystery novel.

My first mystery novel was "The Thief Taker" by Janet Gleeson

According to Amazon:

Gleeson's latest unconventional eighteenth-century sleuth is Agnes Meadowes, stalwart widowed cook to the Blanchards of Foster Lane. The Blanchards are a family of renowned silversmiths. When an apprentice is murdered, the kitchen maid disappears, and a valuable silver wine cooler is stolen, patriarch Richard Blanchard turns to Agnes for assistance. Agnes quickly negotiates with a local "thief taker" to recover the wine cooler, but her mission becomes more dangerous when Rose's lifeless body is discovered. As the murder investigation twists and turns, Gleeson, a former Sotheby's agent, immerses readers in both the cuisine and craftsmanship of the era. Suspense and historical detail are artfully interwoven into another historical whodunit.

The King kept teasing me that this book looked smutty. Dude, there was no sex. Well, there was allusions to this one time in the cellar. Oh, and then there was talk of a rape. But dude, this book was pretty darn clean. And fun. And just an easy read. I plowed through it in one of my sick days.

While I'm not sure that murder mysteries are my new favorite genre, I won't be afraid to pick up another and read it the next time I'm sick.

So tell me, what's your favorite genre of books?

Best Toddler Toy -- a Review

2008-03-02T14:58:00.000-08:00

What we have here appears to be the world's best toddler toy. You may think it's merely a shoe string, but no, naive reader, it is the elastic bandy string thingy from some workout shorts that I washed in anticipation of exercising sometime next decade (after finding them chucked in the far far corner of my closet on one of my binge cleaning sprees.

As soon as I saw the string thingy had come out of the shorts, my plan was to chuck the paint-stained shorts. Clearly, this is karma saying "buy new exercise wardrobe." But no. Mr. Squirrel decided to "fix them" by working the string back into the shorts with a wooden barbeque skewer. Um, that didn't work so well.

So the shorts and the string sat staring at each other in clothing rage on our coffee table for a few days before Jojo found the string. Now they're inseperable. The blue string went with us to visit our friends & their new baby at the hospital:

The string travels well. Yes, sometimes, it gets stuck in revolving doors or elevator doors or even mud puddles. Not to mention, it traverses garbage, errant dog poop and well, other germy nastiness. But hey, it can be washed! Nothing gives Jojo more pleasure than trailing the string behind him. He loves it and checks to make sure it's still behind him all the time. It's teaching him compassion, I swear.

Takin' a ride on the S.L.U.T.

2008-02-25T07:01:00.000-08:00

One of our favorite things about traveling to Europe is their awesome mass transit options. America is about 60 years behind Europe and it's just sad. We don't have the glorious options that our European friends do. That is, until the new Seattle South Lake Union Trolley (or the S.L.U.T, which is very unfortunate) opened last month.

The awesome thing about this trolley is that it is easy and nice and new and looks just like a subway cars in Berlin. The bad thing is that we don't have any real reason to ride the new trolley.

Last weekend The King, Babboo and I decided to take a ride on the new streetcar. We didn't need to go anywhere, we just wanted to check it out. We bought our ($1.50) tickets and boarded the trolley.

I was happy for this new adventure. I was happy to be out of our tiny apartment. I was happy to be hanging out with my boys.

Babboo was happy to be on a "bus coming" (as he calls anything that go "bump, bump") and happy to have his trusty backpack with him. The King was happy to just feel closer to Berlin. (Ahh....Germany!)

Since the trolley is brand new, it looks that way. Dude, there wasn't any dirt or graffiti or vandalism. It was all fresh and new, and at $1.50, it was worth the money.

The King spent the trip begging Babboo to stay sitting down. I spent the trip taking pictures of myself for the interweb, in between telling Babboo to "spot putting things in your mouth, for the love of pizza!"
We rode the trolley to the end of the line, and then stayed on for the return trip. Really, we were only there for the fun of it. We even got off a few stops early so we could walk the rest of the way to our apartment.

All in all, the S.L.U.T is awesome and I wish that we had a reason to take it more often. And maybe we will, once the sun is out and we can ride it to a park.

Next time you're in Seattle, hop aboard the S.L.U.T. And tell 'em Isabel sent you.

Nesting like a (crazed) Mama Bird

2008-02-18T10:09:00.001-08:00

I just couldn't take it anymore. My husband's plan to remodel our basement, which I'll give him credit for, he's doing the majority of the prep work before the basement-drying-rip-off people come in... well, it's taking a long time. And there are mountains of junk in our basement.

Several obsolete computer monitors, mounds of old boards with nails sticking out, piles of old insulation, truckloads of cardboard boxes and general CRAP CRAP CRAP. I mean, it's driving me nuts.

So Mr. Squirrel left town this morning for a week. I'm 36.5 weeks pregnant and NESTING like a mofo. I want crap gone. I want more space. I don't want to have to tiptoe my largess around HUGE PILES of NAILS and pokey things to get to the washer and dryer.

He's been gone less than 12 hours and already I have two men over. Men from this company emptying my house of rubbish and stuff that's bringing me down. Ohhh it feels good.

I'm sure Mr. Squirrel will balk at the price. I'm sure his eyes will bug and he's say "but we have to get a dumpster anyways for when we re-do the bathroom," but hello? That's like MONTHS away, and when dumpsters are delivered, they're for multiple days. These guys will be out of here within the hour. Goodbye. So long. Drive that crap far far away from me, please!! Plus, these men are the ones cursing, sweating, lifting and aching. Not Mr. Squirrel.

I, of course, find my solution bra-zilliant, thank you very much.

And who knows...maybe Mr. Squirrel will appreciate the break from the hard labor?

Operation Organization

2008-02-13T15:11:00.000-08:00

It all started with this book -- the book that jumped out at me one evening at Barnes & Noble, after a dinner date with my husband. You with kids know how dates go... or is it just us?

After dinner, do we overpay at the theatre AND then with the babysitter, or should we just rent the movie down the road and save on the babysitter? But let's not go home yet...maybe we should check out the fridges at Home Depot or the flooring at Lowes or wander aimlessly around Barnes & Noble. We've even done our Target shopping, all without tantrums.

Anyway, we chose B&N one night, and we came home with several books for Jojo and this one for me. While we do not live in a garbage house or a ridiculously out of control, cluttered house, our dining room table, kitchen, office and bedroom all sport stacks and stacks of unfiled papers, books to shelve, clothes to fold, and general SHIT I just haven't gotten around to taking care of. It drives me nuts, yet...most of it remains.

I could NOT for one more day, however, take the hall closet, just outside the downstairs bathroom and guestroom. When I opened it, the pile of sweaters to be drycleaned and mounds of stuff under them (really? I had no idea what I was going to find) upped my blood pressure. So while sick with the stomach bug, I decided to tackle this project, not taking any cues from the book I mentioned above, except that I was SURE the author would approve of the end result. I was driven.

Now, this post would be a great place to put a before/after photo montage. I'm positive, at one point, I did photograph the "before" closet, but now I cannot find those photos anywhere. Just trust me. It was a disaster.

But here it is now:

A closer look at the top half of the closet:

Oh yes, you see Yahtzee! up there. Yahtzee RULEZ. Also: see the plastic organizer/drawer thing full of lightbulbs? My husband's only shopping addiction? Light bulbs. He cannot make it past the lightbulb aisle without buying new ones -- usually the new swirly ones that are better for the environment, but then, why do we keep the old standbys? Can't we recycle/regift/reuse/get the eff out of our closet? Oh no. The thought of parting with them sends him to Whineville, and I can't stand Whineville.

Lower half of closet:

Yahoooooo...look at that there organizer unit on the bottom. If you read MOB, you will know that I have a monkey on my back named HUGE GIFT CARD TO LINENS-N-THINGS AND I HATE LINENS-AND-THINGS. FINALLY, however, FINALLY, I reduced the amount of monkey/giftcard with this here purchase! Instead of all of our table linens cramped into one of the shelves, I fit them all nicely in here. And I love it. Whew.

As you may have guessed, I'm going through the nesting/purging stage of life (and pregnancy) where I just want a big ass dumpster next to my house so I can pour entire drawers and rooms, if possible, into said dumpster to unclutter my life. So until that dumpster arrives (and it will! Because we're redoing the basement and have a dumpster-full amount of she-ite in the basement which needs dumping), I'll just have to continue tackling one room/problem at a time!

I love the closet now. Even if I don't need things from it, I look in it lovingly every day. Next stop? The office. It's actually in progress as we speak, and I'm a little more confident that I have before pictures. After that? Guestroom closet. Ooooh I'm getting chills!

Cooking dinner in a crock pot is like being in two places at once!

2008-02-12T07:01:00.000-08:00

We are scoring left and right with the sales at our local Macy's.

May I present you with the latest addition to our super teeny tiny kitchen counter, our new crock pot:

Not only did we get the crock pot for a screaming deal, we also got the free Little Dipper. You know, so we can make smaller crock pot creations for Babboo.

This crock pot is like the rolls royce of crock pots. The one we had been previously using was a wedding gift from my first marriage. Be assured it was a piece of crap back then, and time hasn't been good to it. So yeah, it sucked. The lid never really fit right causing the crock pot to not work properly. I mean come on, the system of slowly cooking ones meal works solely based on the fact that the pot is securely sealed.

We used our new crock pot on Sunday. Before church The King filled it with a few bottles of BBQ sauce and some cheap stew meat. Three hours later we returned home, made corn bread and baked beans and enjoyed a meal of the most deliciously tender meat in the history of our crock pot using days.

Yummy.

(While the meat was enjoyed on Sunday, unfortunately the damn apartment still reeks of BBQ sauce. Not so awesome.)

Rumor has it that there are some pretty great crock pot recipe books out there. Looks like finding a good one might be my next New Thing.

Hey, look what I won on the internet!

2008-02-06T07:01:00.000-08:00

Back in November 2007 I won a FREE Kenneth Cole outfit on BlogHer for my Sweet Babboo. While winning prizes isn't anything new for me, this outfit is new for Babboo!

So how did I win a three piece Kenneth Cole outfit and a pair of Kenneth Cole shoes for Babboo? I won by answering the simple question of "What do you think of Kenneth Cole for Kids?"

My response was easy, since Babboo has a couple of KC outfits that I've been so happy with. I said:

"I love it. My son has two KC outfits (bought for a great price, on sale at Macy's). I have been very happy with the jeans, the zipper jacket, and especially with the little blazer. I tell you what, as soon as I put the little brown blazer on my guy (whether over a button down shirt of a tee), he becomes a mini rockstar. I seriously get stopped on the street by strangers to find out where I got such a great blazer for him. It's cut perfectly for him and he's been able to wear the 12 month size (he now 17 months) since he was 9 months. I truly feel like I got my money worth with the KC items."

Last week, my winning outfit finally arrived. Finally. Unfortunately it took so long for them to send it to me that the shoe size I had given was now too small. I took returned them to Nordstrom and plan on using the money to get a bigger shoe for Babboo. Because man, the KC shoes are super duper cute.

We put him in his new outfit on Sunday for church. Of course he wanted to wear a tie, just like Daddy. So The King got an old tie (a Century 21 tie that he got at a garage sale), but it, and tied it on Babboo. He loved being like daddy. And I loved seeing him in his new outfit, that didn't cost me a cent.

"Sammie" must be Spanish for "small"

2008-01-30T07:01:00.000-08:00

Do you have Quiznos where you live? We have them here in Seattle, but I admit I never eat there. Too much money for something you can get for cheaper (and tastier) at Subway. This all changed a few nights ago when The King wanted to try their new Sammie sandwiches. (Plus we had a coupon.)

When we walked into the neighborhood Quiznos I was instantly taken back by the size of the Sammie. Dude, they are much smaller then they look in the commercials. Just look at them compared to The King's hands.

Maybe they don't look as small when I hold them. But yeah, small. And for the price, you really aren't getting that much. I would say that the average person would need at least two Sammie's to constitute a meal. We bought four different types of Sammie's and I tried them all. I like the Italiano the best. It was full of seasonings and marinated meat. The King like the angus beef one the best. But he's a guy, so I am not surprised by his choice.

Will I buy a Sammie again? No. Will I use the other coupons I have to get some free ones? Maybe. But dude, all in all I don't like Quiznos.

So tell me, have you tried the new Sammie's? What did you think?

Partying it Old School Style, for Baby Numero Dos

2008-01-27T17:05:00.000-08:00

One of my dearest friends will be having her second baby in 3 weeks or so. Two weeks ago, I offered to throw her a baby shower.

Where I come from, showers are thrown for the second baby only when it's been a long time between the first and second child or the mom expects multiples. But then... one of my friends a few months back told me she was going to throw me a shower. I told her what I just told you, and she...well, she's throwing me a shower.

I'm so excited about the shower since hearing her enthusiasm for celebrating this baby and explaining to me that I've barely had time to enjoy the pregnancy because I'm too busy working at home and at the office.

She's right! During most of the pregnancy, I had to really stop and think which week I was in. I couldn't tell you any of the developmental steps I could recite to anyone at any stage of Jojo's time in the oven. Since we're having another boy, I haven't "had" to run out and excitedly squeal over girls' clothing.

So I'm having a shower for Cletus, and I can't wait. But first...I need help throwing a spectacular shower for my good friend!

Do you have any ideas to help a very pregger friend out? Here's the deal... my friend doesn't know whether she's having another boy or a girl. If I knew she was having a girl, I think I'd have some more to go on. I kind of don't even know what to do.

What I do know? The size: approximately 7-8 guests. The date: oh sometime really soon. Um, that's it.

Tentatively, I'm thinking I'll have to place calls to invite people. Is that ok? I kind of think that's nicer than emailing...am I wrong? There's no time for written invites. Also: what to do and where to do it. I really don't want the shower at my house because it's an unnatural state of hideousness. Is a light lunch with cake/pastries at a local cute restaurant acceptable (oh, and we don't have too many of those...so I'm on the prowl)?

I'm not sure how exactly to do this. Do you smartees have any ideas to toss my way??

The futon has left the building

2008-01-21T07:01:00.000-08:00

You know how they say if you put a frog in a pot of water and slowly turn the heat up, he'll stay in the pot and allow himself to be cooked?

Well, that's what happened to The King and I. Our crappy (full size) futon mattress got crappy slowly over the last five years. We had no idea it was so crappy, and so we continued to sleep on it every night and were so surprised when we'd wake up and feel like we'd been hit by a mac truck.

Eventually we figured out that our futon mattress sucked ass.

Apparently Preston, the cat, always knew the mattress sucked ass. Look at him judging the sad, sad futon. (It must be noted the the futon was also covered in little tiny stains. Stains that came from a certain baby falling asleep on the b00b and drooling out breast milk.)

Saturday marked the day our new (Queen size!) mattress (bought for a great deal at the Macy's One Day Sale) was delivered to our one-bedroom apartment.

(One the left is our bedroom. On the right, our front room. In this pictures you can see our entire apartment. Dude, I told you it was small.)

Saturday also marked the day that The King came down with Babboo's Vomit Flu. For the first time in a long time, The King was home on a Saturday. He was just too darn sick to swing his hammer over at the new house. As soon as I removed the old futon and put the new mattress on our (full size) frame, he moved from the front room floor to the new mattress.

I made the bed, with sheet bought the night before, while he slept on the new mattress. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Of course, Babboo just wanted to play with daddy.

Awww, clean new sheets and a freakin' pillow top mattress (and everything you own being stuff under the bed. Because really, we've fit a 3 bedroom house into our one bedroom apartment. Dude, GET ME THE HELL OUT OF THIS PLACE.)!

The bed, it is Heaven.

And I am in love.

It must be noted that Babboo thought the mattress' plastic wrap was much cooler then a the actual new mattress.

Oh well what does he know anyway, he's wearing a Christmas onesie and no pants?!

Here, use this to clean up your baby's puke

2008-01-14T07:01:00.000-08:00

I don't know what happens when you go and visit your family. But when I go, I take full advantage of my mom's time and force her to teach me her ways.

This last weekend I had the choice between her teaching me how to make homemade sweet rolls or having her teach me how to make her latest signature baby gift.

Since I don't need to gain anymore weight this winter and since I know a lot of people having babies, I opted to learn how to make her signature baby gift; burp clothes. My mom made me a ton of these when Babboo was born and they were a life saver. Seriously, I'm still using these bad boys. They clean up nicely and you can just throw 'em in the washer and dryer. I like that.

Mind you, these aren't just plain old white cotton burp clothes, these are cute decorative ones. Oh, and she doesn't actually make the burp cloth.

Hey, instead of trying to explain this to you, let me just show you the pictures and tell you how we did it.

Start with a cloth diaper. My dad bought this particular model at their local K-Mart. Apparently the kind Wal-Mart sells is the "pre folded" type. You don't want the pre-folded cloth diapers. (Trust my mom on this one.)

(They come in packs of 12. You will need one yard of fabric for 12 burp rags. Oh, the diapers come in packs of 12. My mom and I made 24 of these things in two days.)

Cut the fabric so it's 6 inches wide (and whatever length a yard is).

Fold the edges of the fabric under and pin them to the cloth diaper, like so:

Then make your mom do the actual sewing of the fabric to the cloth diapers. Explain to her that she is much better at sewing then you are. It might also help to tell her that you are busy watching your kid AND pinning, all at the same time.

Once they are all ~~sown~~ sewn together, trim off any loose threads, fold, and then sit back and marvel at your creations.

Holy crap, these things are cute. And much nicer then using a plain old crappy cloth diaper to clean up your babies spit up and messes.

I like to wrap them in tissue paper and tie with a real live bow. It's simple, yet pretty.

I can promise you that I'll be making more of these hand made little burp rags. Especially once I find my sewing machine and figure out where I can lock up Babboo while I sew.

Wish me luck!

Old News to You

2008-01-07T17:02:00.000-08:00

New Cool Thing for Me!

The unfortunate disappearance of my sidebar prompted me to try something that other bloggers have been supporting for months... Google Reader!

The thought of reconstructing my blogroll by organzing My Favorites on my home, laptop AND work computer seemed beyond my reach at this stage of life/holiday/pregnancy.

What was I to do? If I didn't click to you via my own blogroll on the sidebar or happen to have you listed on one of our computers under My Favorites, and if you didn't happen to leave a comment (or have never been to my site), then I was missing out on your life! And I couldn't take it anymore.

So I opened up the easy to understand and organize Google Reader. I think you probably have to have a Gmail account, which also, I highly recommend. In fact, if you'd like an invitation to open a Gmail account, I will send you an invite (the amount of spam I get in my Yahoo account far outweighs the miniscule amount I get in my Gmail inbox).

Anyway, the Google Reader lets me keep up-to-date on EVERYONE. When I sign in, I can immediately see who has new posts. I can then read it in their reader or click the post title and go directly to the blog (comes up in a different window).

Since using this, I honestly believe I've saved time on reading/remembering/finding my favorite bloggers AND increased the amount of comments I leave...which makes everyone happy!

If you haven't used it, give it a go! And add us to your subscription...if you can stand it.

Bookworm

2007-12-31T18:57:00.001-08:00

OMG stop it. Stop sending me cool things to join, look at or otherwise occupy my very busy schedule (see?). Ugh.

Oh I'm talking to you, Audrey. She sent me an invitation to join this site and contribute to the discussion/listing (lists? I heart lists! Let me list the ways I love lists...) of books I've read/want to read. And I love reading, so sign me up, where do I sign? Oh yes, right there.

I opened her email on the night before we were planning on leaving Michigan, while at my parents' house. So while my mom wanted to watch Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (which we'd already seen), I watched with them while plugging away at entering books, ratings and noting new books I want to read.

My mom can't be too disappointed with my sporadic attentiveness, as I saw her eyes closed several times AND heard my dad's soft snores throughout most of the movie.

Anyhoo, if you love books, discovering new authors, seeing what others are reading and what they think of books you love or couldn't finish, check out this site. It's loads of fun.

You can find me there and see what I'm reading, want to read or have read by looking for Stacy at my email address associated with this blog (it's the name of the blog at gmail dot com). I've even uploaded a picture, complete with reindeer torso in the background!

This site also forced me to acknowledge the ridiculous number of pristine, shiny, unread books that I've received as gifts or bought with the best intentions only to have sit around, collecting dust. I'm parlaying this "discovery" into somewhat of a New Year's resolution (which, I've said just recently, that I "don't do."). But this one? It's financially smart, and I'm going to give it a go... because if you notice, there are 46 books on my to-read list, a good 30 of which I OWN. IN MY HOUSE. BEING IGNORED.

Therefore, I resolve to withstand the pull and pressure of Barnes & Noble, Border's and many charming, smaller bookstores and NOT purchase any new books this year. There's no WAY I will read all of the unread ones in this house, so there's even less reason to buy more.

A question...I did receive a Target giftcard for Christmas -- can I use that for a new book? What if the book is ON the to-read list...just not currently owned by me. Is that ok?

Where in the world is Heidikins?

2007-12-29T09:07:00.000-08:00

It's easy to start a relationship online. You can hide behind your computer screen and share secrets you wouldn't normally be so bold to share. Knowing that this person lives far, far away and the chances of you ever meeting them are like 12 to a million makes it safe.

That is, until the person decides to come to Seattle for a totally random wedding and you have the chance to meet them. In real live. This person that knows a little too much about you.

Gulp.

It's enough to make you run and hide under your desk.

But I didn't run and hide. I combed my hair, put on some lip gloss and headed out to meet up with Heidikins. (And, because we're nice, we also invited Jihan, who I know in real life.) (Oh, and Heidikins brought along her new boyfriend. Who is very lovely. And drives a Porsch.)

I think we all had a good time. I hope we all did.

After Jihan and I said "goodbye" to Heidi and The Vampire, we stayed up way too late talking about way too many personal things. It was fun.

We'll have to do it again soon.

AHHHHH

2007-12-13T22:35:00.000-08:00

If it wasn't already so much that Jojo peed on the potty last Wednesday, tonight, my ~~baby~~ big boy is asleep in his big boy bed. In his big boy room.

Here's what the little blue room used to look like. Well, I could show you what the room looked like when we bought the house, but just imagine hideously country-flower wallpaper and dusty curtains.

So this, this was our little beach-themed retreat for guests. We hope you enjoyed your stay, because this room will no longer be available to guests.The transformation from guest room to Jojo's toddler room began back around Jojo's second birthday when Jojo scored some awesome truck/construction-themed sheets from Target. We relocated the muted paintings to other rooms and moved some of his books, stuffed animals and decor from the nursery into this room.

We made up the bed and put up the railing a few weeks ago. Jojo helped Daddy and me put up the trains, planes and trucks on the walls.

We've played on the bed (and by play I mean collect certain colored balls from the ball pit and hide under the covers). We tried to talk about the room a lot.

Tonight marks the first night that Jojo decided sleeping in this bed felt right. He's there now. In a twin bed...sideways, with his cute little head shoved up against the railing.

I think I'll go sneak in again to look at him, my big boy.

This is why I didn't grow up to be an art teacher like my dad

2007-12-12T07:01:00.000-08:00

A few months ago Babboo was sent home from school with a bag full of art supplies and a note requesting we use the supplies to make him a poster about his family. The kids would be learning about families and they wanted the kids to have a posted to show off their families.

I brought the art supplies home, read the note, and then threw it all in a pile on the kitchen table.

And then forgot about it.

Until last Saturday when we were stuck in the apartment due to extreme coldness. (Oh yes, it was very cold outside!) while clearing off our kitchen table (which has never been used to eat off of) I discovered the bag of art supplies, reread the note, and decided that Babboo and I would work on the poster right.this.very.second! (I tried to ignore the part of the note that said the posters were needed asap because the lessons on family would be taught in November. Dude, I suck.)

I quickly went through our available pictures to find some of our families. I did not have a lot to choose from. Apparently I only get pictures of Babboo printed. What can I say, he's cute. I found a few pictures where a grandparent might be located in the background and deemed it a success.

I located a poster board (under our couch. Who knew?), my glue sticks, colored paper, scissors, tape and glitter pens (is it wrong that I own way to many glitter-related items?) and threw them all down on the kitchen floor.

We were ready to start on our Art Project.

Here my Sweet Babboo, let Mommy help you come up with your basic design and layout.

Screw you Mommy. I just want to smear glitter on the fridge and play with scissors. Take that!

After countless times of pulling the scissors away from Babboo and begging him to "please leave the tape dispenser alone" we finally finished with our first ever Art Project.

My heart, it melts with pride.

Since we were so far behind on making the poster I don't dare take it to Babboo's school. It now sits on our kitchen table, for all to enjoy.

(I know the feathers look so tacky. But they were included in the bag of art supplies to use. And honestly, the kid loved the feathers.)

Apparently mac and cheese doesn't always come in a box

2007-12-05T07:01:00.000-08:00

I worry every afternoon about what I'm going to make for dinner. I sit at my desk and think about what's in my cupboards that I can twist and turn into something that we'll all eat.

When I pick up Babboo from school I always ask him "what should we make for dinner?" When we get home we start on the preparations immediately. He hates me being in the kitchen, but he loves to help. So he helps and sometimes it's fun.

Last night I wasn't sure what to make. I knew I had some salad material that needed to be used before it went bad. I also had lots of pasta noodles. And spaghetti sauce. But I've been having a red sauce aversion for a few years now, so I wasn't too interested in having spaghetti (even though it's cheap and easy). I busted out a recipe book and started looking for other dinner options.

I wanted something that would go with salad. Something that had noodles. And something that wouldn't make me gag.

I decided to make macaroni and cheese. From scratch. Something I've never eaten before, let alone made.

I put water on the stove and started to make the dinner. I also picked up the phone to call May (my best friend that deserted me for Reno). I figured I could talk to her, entertain Babboo, and bake a meal I'd never made before.

Needless to say Babboo took advantage of this time to color with his new crayons on the walls and doors.

Good thing we're only renting this hell hole.

I had a bunch of random cheeses in my fridge and although the recipe called for American cheese, I did not have American. Instead I used some sharp cheddar, hot pepper jack, montaray jack and then a handful of fat free mozzarella that I just wanted to use before it went bad.

Have you ever cooked with fat free cheeses? If you have then you know they don't fully melt. They just sort of coagulate. While they taste just fine, they look plain gross. Dude, I only used 1/4 cup of the FF cheese, and yet it made the entire batch of mac and cheese all runny looking.

Oh well, it still tasted just dandy.

Babboo* ate seconds of the mac and cheese and actually ate some of the salad. But you will notice the tears in his eyes. He did not want to stop drawing on the walls to eat dinner.

I will here by declare homemade mac and cheese to be a hit. Next time, I will forgo using up any left over FF cheeses. And you should too.

*Please disregard his ridiculous Pooh sweatshirt. Sometimes if he has an accident at school they will take off his cool black Beatles shirt and put on some random shirt from the 1980's lost and found box. This is what happened yesterday. And let me tell you I hate Pooh, so seeing him in this shirt bugged me to no end.

I tried to rock the false lashes

2007-11-28T07:01:00.000-08:00

Saturday afternoon in my apartment. Phone conversation.

Isabel: You need to come home.

The King: Why?

Isabel: I just tried fake eyelashes for the first time and I can't tell if they look bad. And I have to leave the house to do shopping. but I don't dare. What if they look horrible and people mock me?

The King: Fake lashes only look horrible on drag queens and when they are hanging off because you're too drunk to fix them. You are neither. I'm sure it's fine.

Isabel: But still, you need to come home.

The King did not come home. I had to leave the house with the falsies. I survived but once he got home he declared that I had done it all wrong.

Going back to reread Amalah's tutorial on false eyelashes I discovered that, in fact, I had done it all wrong. It started when I bought a one piece lashes (from Elf for $1.00) and not the single ones, like Amalah suggests.

I suck.

When I was applying them I felt like they were all wrong, even thought I knew enough to try to apply them to my lashes and not my lid. I cut them in half and only wore the half on the outside of my eye. And then I felt like they were too long and too fake. (Too fake? Yeah, I'm an idiot.) So I trimmed them. A lot. Which didn't seem to help either.

Basically all it did was show me that fake lashes could look good. But mine did not look good. Pretty much it sounds like I need to purchase the right type of lashes and then try them thing about again.

Because, dang it, I want this to work.

I promise to give it another shot. And this time, I'll follow the rules.

Panera, welcome to Seattle. Please stay a while.

2007-11-26T07:01:00.000-08:00

The interweb loves Panera.

Seattle does not love Panera. Jerks.

That is until last week when a Panera finally opened up out here. Of course it's not in the actual city of Seattle. But it's near a Target, so I decided to head over and give it a try. Just because the interweb said so.

And dude, you guys were right. Panera is good. The yummy warm beverage I had was both yummy and warm. And the awesome chocolate pastry thingy was very chocolaty and super freakin' awesome and every bite reminded me of mornings in Paris where all I ate was a chocolate pastry from a local bakery.

My only beef with Panera was the fact that it isn't located in walking distance from my apartment or my new house. And that it wasn't as cheap as the bakeries in Paris.

(But it is cheaper then a plane ticket to France. So I guess it's even.)

So tell me, what should I order next time I go? And be assured, there will be a next time.

I know what you look like...um, down there

2007-11-19T07:01:00.000-08:00

While few people IRL know about my penchant for waxing my special lady parts, the entire interweb has been privy to hearing me talk about it here on this site and over at Amalah's Advice Smackdown.

In case I've beat around the bush too much (pun intended), I wax. I wax it all, baby.

And yes, I like it. Nothing sexual, nothing creepy on my husbands part. I just like it. (Do I also need to tell you that I probably have more hair then the average grown man. Dude. I hairy. It's not cool.)

Last week I received an e-mail from a pregnant friend (IRL) of mine. A friend that also, without permission, found and reads my blog. Which means she basically knows what I look like naked. Oh well, that's what happens when you tell the interweb. Eventually everyone will find out.

Anyway, this friend mentioned that, since she's pregnant, she felt like she wasn't able to maintain her own typical amount of upkeep on her own special lady parts. She wanted a little more advice on going to get waxed.

Hooray, I've talked someone into coming over to the dark side (or rather, the smooth side).

After offering her more tips over e-mail. (Yes, it hurts. No, it isn't cheap. Yes, they do guys too. Yes, they are professional. Yes, you will be naked.) I decided to just invite her to come with me to my next waxing appointment. I figured I could wait out in the lobby and offer her some mental support. And promised her I wouldn't come in the room. And if I heard her screaming I would just cover my ears.

So last Friday we did it. We met up at the salon. I went first. My wax was uneventful, as usual. And then my friend went in. I tried not to listen to what was going on inside. Thankfully I didn't hear any screams. After about 20 minutes she came out of the room with a smile on her face, (presumably) less hair, and minus $70 in her wallet.

It was a good day.

The Road to Political Victory

2007-11-10T14:04:00.000-08:00

is paved with photos of our family.

Just ask our newly elected town official!

When one of my closest friends sheepishly asked if we'd consider posing in her husband's campaign flyer, I was all, 'what could possibly go wrong?' Then I thought of our Republican neighbors, my back fat, and well, do you SEE my triple chin? Holy wattle.

But for our friends? I'd do this, even if that meant 9,000 of my community members would see and tsk tsk my bra choice.

I know what you're thinking... "bra choice? That didn't even make the top 5 atrocious issues, Mrs. Squirrel Well, bite my back fat and get your own political flier!

Anyhoo...as election day drew closer, I started to worry. "Our ad" hadn't come out yet -- apparently, it would be the "last push" before election day. What if we turned the tide of support towards our friend's competitor?

What if someone remembers me swearing at the grocery store and tells everyone that I'm the giant potty mouth mean mommy? Or what if that guy I yelled at in the grey Ford Mustang who wouldn't STEP ON THE GAS and SHOOT THE GAP into morning traffic and who I might have called a few choice names recognized me and switched his vote? I mean, races are close here! One finely enunciated "MOVE YOUR CAR YOU EFFING GINORMOUS ASSHAT" seen through the windshield could cost our friend the election!

Being a model can be quite exhausting and self-centering...in a bad way.

And then the ad came out. Only 3 people recognized us and no one has mentioned the triple chin. Most importantly, our friend handedly won the election! Yay!

Also good to know: the Squirrel family does not serve as a curse to political campaigns. Ergo, no blaming us for GW!

A boy and his hair

2007-11-07T07:01:00.000-08:00

At some point this blog sort of changed from being a journal of the New Things I did to the New Things Babboo's done. Oopsie.

Screw it. Let's just keep with tradition.

You all know how Babboo has luxurious locks, right? If case you've forgotten please look to your left and be reminded of his awesomely awesome hair.

Oh yes, it is muy awesome.

And while it's very awesome, it's also a little too long and results in him tripping over his toys because really, he just can't see through the hair. The King and I discussed getting his hair cut. And by "discussed" I mean that I brought it up and The King said stuff like "don't cut his damn hair" and "if you cut his hair I might have to cut you!" So yeah, the hair, it was not cut.

Over the last few weeks The King has noticed the growing need to cut Babboo's hair. Discussions were brought up (again). It was decided that we could get his hair trimmed. The back needed to stay long, but the bangs could get a little cut. (I sent The King pictures of Noah's hair as proof that you can keep it long, but still have it out of the kid's eyes.)

Last night we picked up Babboo from school, stopped at the Home Depot (it's not a night out at our house without a trip to The Depot) and headed over to the local SuperCuts for his first official hair cut. (Because really, I'm not paying more then $20 to get his hair cut.) Babboo was a champ and let the nice man cut his hair. He held still the entire time, even when the guy kept saying "does she like her to get her hair cut?!"

(I assumed he kept calling Babboo a "she" because English was his second language. But it turns out he thought he was a girl until well after the hair cutting session was over. Good Lord people, he's a damn boy!)

The guy kept cutting and cutting and cutting. I finally stood up, walked over there and said "that's enough" and got Babboo away from the scissors.

Seriously, it was enough.

A Blogging First

2007-10-31T07:22:00.000-07:00

I didn't mean to start a meme, but I did! And that's definitely something new to me. Pretty cool, in my opinion, too.

So I've wanted for some time to discuss my fear, dislike and anxiety resulting from horror movies, and then I thought -- hey, I'll find a list of scary movies and make it like that book meme that's been going around. I thought even if I made some comments, it would be therapeutic for me and somewhat funny for my readers.

First, I got word that other bloggers were using my post as a full-blown meme! Weird!

Then I noticed Miss Zoot (!) had done the meme, and so had this nice lady! "Fun meme going around?" It's going around? For once, I'm spreading something besides gossip or the clap*! Sweet!

And speaking of the clap, Carrisa also used the meme!

It's fun seeing what they think of horror flicks in general, not to mention their reactions to some pretty frightening and freaky movies! Maybe you should try it, too -- or better yet, try designing your own meme just in time for NaBloPoMo!

Happy Halloween!

*I actually never have had the clap. Not that there's anything wrong with having it, Carrisa.

Painting can be fun?

2007-10-30T07:01:00.000-07:00

So um, we're building a new house. BORING, I know. I'll try to make this post not as boring as it could be.

When we built our last house I was there every night alongside The King. It sucked, as is evident in this picture taken during the months we spent on the foundation.

Dude, I am hating life. Kill me now.

In the end The King and I had a stronger relationship and a beautiful house to show for all of our hard work. At the time, building the house together wasn't fun. But looking back, it was an experience I'm thankful we had. How many couples can say they built a house together? (You know, besides Charles and Caroline.)

I don't know if I should be admitting this or not, but so far I've worked zero hours over at the new house.

Did you hear me?

ZERO hours!!

As in no hours at all. Not even 30 minutes doing a little digging.

Sure, I'll go over there a couple of times a month to check on the progress and take pictures. But I've done no actual work. The King, on the other hand, has put in more hours then you can shake a stick at.

(Can you shake a stick at hours??)

Last week The King informed me that he needed my help over at the new house. There was no getting out of it this time. A sitter was found for Babboo, paint was picked out, paint rollers were purchased, grubby clothes were put on and painting commenced.

But first, The King showed me around the house we will eventually occupy. (In my dreams!)

May I present you with our new light fixtures. They are lovely. And bright. And also, be careful not to fall down that flight of stairs.

After the walk through, we made our way into the master bathroom and began painting. It took a few rolls with the paint brush to get back into the swing of things. But I quickly remembered my way around a paint can.

It felt good to be doing something productive. I felt that sense of accomplishment that I rarely feel these days. Plus dude, I didn't have an eighteenth month old screaming "up, up Momma" at ever turn.

The King and I talked while we painted. We made jokes and laughed and patted ourselves on the back for our good color choices. I talked far more then he did and realized that most of my topics pertain to my time spent blogging. The King was good and listened to me talk about OPH's newly finished art wall. He even asked questions.

After a few hours we realized it was time to go and pick up the boy from the sitter's house. I could have stayed much longer. Yes, I was enjoying myself just that much. Plus, I was really anxious to get the room done and see what the final product was going to look like.

The King told me I was welcome to come back and help anytime.

Driving to to pick up Babboo I realized that there is no way for me to hang out with both The King and Babboo every night. The King spends his time at the new house and Babboo spends his time...well, wherever I take him. The two don't intertwine and it's sad.

The next morning I got this note in my inbox from The King:

Hey, it was super nice to have you at the house last night. I had about 1000% more fun than usual, just talking and stuff.

He's right, it was pretty fun.

Blogging Every Blessed Day

2007-10-28T15:43:00.000-07:00

Can I do it? I've been pondering this question. Can I blog every single day for one long month and join the fabulously committed participants in NaBloPoMo? I even take a poll over at my other site.

I forgot where I lurked earlier, but someone admitted the key to success, or at least a huge stepping stone, is to have a plan. A plan? That's so not something I have right now.

So before you head over and vote (please do!), I'm trying to come up with some topics to jump start my month of blogging (on my other site):

11/1 -- halloween recap...hopefully no pictures of cleaning up toilet papered trees or egg-y windows
11/2 -- deep thoughts friday (general bitchery)
11/3 --
11/4 --
11/5 --
11/6 -- grateful tuesday
11/7 --
11/8 --
11/9 -- deep thoughts friday
11/10 --
11/11 --
11/12 --
11/13 -- grateful tuesday
11/14 -- blogger birthday announcement
11/15 --
11/16 -- deep thoughts friday
11/17 -- blogging on the road again...on the way to Michigan! Woot!
11/18 --
11/19 -- blogger birthday announcement
11/20 -- grateful tuesday
11/21 --
11/22 --
11/23 -- deep thoughts friday
11/24 --
11/25 -- closing out the holiday roadtrip & blogger birthday announcement
11/26 --
11/27 -- grateful tuesday
11/28 --
11/29 -- blogger birthday announcement
11/30 -- deep thoughts friday (I have a ginormous project due for work this day...so count on some freaky office bitchery!)

Then I be done.

Think I can do it? Would you like to help me fill in the gaps? I'll blog about anything you want to hear about! And besides the weekly(ish) features you see above, I do have SOME ideas on how to pass the time, including fantastically embarrassing stories from the glory days of my youth...

But really, if you have a question, I'll blog an answer!

Hey, look what came to Seattle!

2007-10-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

And it's about damn time.

I've been dying to go to Kohl's since Janet first told me about their awesome shoe department and Carrisa talked up their housewares. Patiently I waited for it's arrival.

And now, it's open. And I'm happy.

Babboo and I raced over there this week to cash in on their sales. I'll admit that I was much happier about our prospects then my Sweet Babboo.

Frankly, he could have cared less. Which is too bad, since their toddler clothes were 60% off. I was able to score more shirts to adorn with iron-ons. (Stop me. Now. Before it's too late.)

The parking lot was empty. (The only cars that were there are the ones you see it that picture). Inside of the store was d.e.a.d! I kid you not. Apparently the word has not gotten out to the rest of Seattle like it has to me.

Too bad Babboo has a mild meltdown, due to lack of a cart to push him around in, and we couldn't stay as long as I would have wanted. Because of said meltdown I only got to try on one shirt. Which, of course, I bought. It was deep purple and frilly and less then $20.00.

Based on the shirt purchase alone, I'd say my first trip to Kohl's was a huge success.

Now if only we would get an H&M out here*. Because dude, I need me some H&M.

(Rumor has it that H&M is coming to Seattle. Too bad it won't be downtown where I live.)

Bowling alley germs for everyone!

2007-10-24T05:01:00.000-07:00

We were invited to a surprise birthday party last weekend. This wasn't just any birthday party, this was a bowling party.

Bowling with a toddler. Yahoo!!! And also, a New Thing!

I bought a gift, made cupcakes, and we headed to the local bowling alley for a night of food, friends and fun. Some other friends brought their kids along, so we decided to get a game going for the kids. Bowling shoes, bumper pads and all.

Fun times.

The King gave Babboo a quick overview on the art of bowling.

See this bowling ball? Yeah, push it down this lane.

Too bad The King didn't give me any lessons on The Correct Way to Bowl. I pretty much looked like a tool the entire night. I mean seriously, check out my form. No wonder I lost to Babboo.

Baboo quickly lost interest in the game. I don't blame him, because quite frankly, so did I. Do you know how long it takes a bowling ball to get the pens when it's being pushed by a 18 month old? Yeah, it takes forever.

Eventually Baboo only wanted to crawl around on the dirty bowling alley floor with the other kids. My eyes started to twitch every time I looked at him. I was reapplying the Purell after every turn. I kid you not. I would have soaked Babboo in it, if I could have only caught him.
Happy Birthday Gawain. Thanks for letting us take over your birthday party with our crazy family!

Heels have never felt so good

2007-10-22T07:01:00.000-07:00

After complimenting Jihan about a million times on her awesome fashion sense, she agreed to take me shopping with her and show me her secret ways.

I quickly locked her down to a specific date and time for this shopping excursion. Last Thursday night I packed up Babboo and headed over to the 'burbs to get Jihan and shop, shop, shop.

Our one and only stop for the night was the local Goodwill.

(You know what Goodwill is, right? It's a used good store. You have them where you're from, right?)

So Jihan's secret is buying second hand clothes for cheap! I like it.

As we walked in the store I looked around like a lost lamb. I had no idea what we were looking for or where to even start. Jihan quickly explained to me that she typically started on the left and worked clockwise around the store. It sounded like a good plan to me. Mostly because that meant we'd make it to the shoe department first.

Babboo did not like being in the cart. He wanted his beloved Jihan to carry him over near the toys so he could play with them. Of course, the germaphobe in me wouldn't let him near the toys. Gag.

(I lied. He cried and cried and cried until I let him play with some random basketball toy that was dirty and also missing pieces. But be assured, I did not buy it for him. No amount of crying would have talked me into bringing it into my home. Even if it was only $2.99!)

We found this awesome, brand new-with the tag, jacket in the "designer" section. It was only $9.99. But um, I have the exact same one, so I didn't buy it. (Who knew the Sherpa brand was considered designer? Not me.) Jihan didn't buy it either. Mostly because it didn't go with the beautiful, and also brand new, Stuart Weitzman shoes she found for $12.99.

We also were looking for a birthday gift for the surprise birthday party we were both attending the next night. I found this beautiful Precious Moments plaque that said something about love and friendship. Dude, it was only $2.99. But alas, we decided our friend might not like it as much as we did, so I didn't purchase it.
I know you're all dying to hear what I did purchase, right?! And since you're dying for hear, may I introduce the outfit I'm wearing to work today...provided by Goodwill for less then $15.00.

(Don't worry, I washed them this weekend. So it's cool.)

B.P. shoes for $6.99. Jones New York black slacks for $6.00

I'm very happy with the $20.00 I spent (Babboo got some new Gap pants). Hopefully Jihan and I can go shopping again.

I'd love to hear about the Goodwill scores that you've bought.

So He Knows He Can Dance

2007-10-17T11:37:00.000-07:00

If this actually works, look for many many more videos to come! I'm so excited that you may be able to share in the joy that is Dancing Jojo and other videos starring Jojo the Wonder Toddler!

Let me set the stage. This dance-a-thon took place in August in my parents' basement (where all good dance-a-thons take place, yo).

See that yellow-shirt sporting dog below? Well, my father received this classy gift for his 60th birthday a few years back...back when the song "Who Let the Dogs Out" graced our ears and the radio waves.

All you have to do is squeeze the dog's paw and suddenly, Jojo lights up and gets to steppin'. In fact, in another video we have, the music stops and Jojo, looking alarmed, demands "MORE! MORE!"

Two warnings: I could have named this post "So Now You Know She Cannot Sing," as my attempt to encourage more dancing involved singing of the nasal variety. Also: I may have snorted at the end. Enjoy!

Thank you to Blogger for making this much easier than it proved to be (for me) on HollowSquirrel!

New Mystery Family Member!

2007-10-11T17:24:00.000-07:00

People, what you are about to read may seem unreal. It may appear I'm pulling your leg or that I, myself, fell victim to prank, a hoax.

Mr. Squirrel claims he had no part of this. And really? None of ya'll who I'd think would pull something like have been to my house ever or lately.

So what we have here is a miracle. A squirreltacular MIRACLE!

Let me set the stage: Lookee here to the left and see the hedge separating our backyard from our neighbor's. We love this neighbor, and we also love the hedge as a natural privacy fence, even if some crazy skunks, rabbits and birds live in this fence.

~~Edward Scissorhands~~ Mr. Squirrel decided to trim away some of the dead branches towards the bottom of the hedge -- perhaps you see the gaping hole, our neighbor's deck and the carnage left behind?

But wait, what's that?

That there. On the ground...

Why, that looks a lot like a ...

I'm not even KIDDING. What we have here...is a miracle. A matching decoy squirrel just like the beautiful specimen you see over in the header of my other site (well, without the pompadour & goatee)!!! In our hedge! Living amongst us, just waiting to be noticed so he could also be welcomed into our home and placed upon the tv, to guard our Tivo and oversee all Tivo-related decisions. Oh yes! Joys of joys.

Seriously, we have NO IDEA how this happened. Our hedge-sharing neighbor didn't have a clue either, so it must have come from a previous occupant of either home. Honestly though...what's the chance of this happening?

Unfortunately for the new/outside squirrel, at a family meeting, we decided to make this new squirrel Master of the Hedge, as Hollow Squirrel hasn't yet warmed to sharing Tivo duties with another squirrel.

And again, unfortunately for the Hedge Master Squirrel, our neighbor boy still uses our yard like an extension of his own.

Can ya guess how many days it took for the neighbor boy ("it wasn't me, it was my friend, Jake!") to pull apart our dear new squirrel friend? Oh that'd be 2 days.

New to Babboo - but that still counts, right?

2007-10-09T07:01:00.000-07:00

I may have mentioned a time or twelve that my family was poor growing up. And while I never went without food or clothing, I also never had the cool clothes or the right shoes. While I was young and living in this moment I somehow forgot to look around and actually appreciate all the love and joy I had in my life. Instead I looked down and realized I was wearing hand me downs (from my grandma. Gasp!) and eating hot dogs.

There are a few specific things I didn't get when I was a kid that now seem so trivial. But to six year old Isabel, it was heartbreaking to go without them.

The first thing was those little packs of cheese and crackers that you could spread with the red spreader thingy. I don't even know what these are called, but when I was grocery shopping with my mom I always wanted one.

I never got one.

Another thing that I was always upset I didn't get to do was those coin powered little cars and horses at the front of the grocery stores. Again, you know what I'm talking about. They used to be a dime and all they did was jiggle your brains. My mom was smart enough to not waste her money on it.

Babboo and I had the day off on Monday (thanks Columbus for discovering America, even though it had been discovered for centuries before hand.) and we decided to use the day to go shopping at the nearest outlet mall (which hello, not near, but whatever). While I didn't find any sweet deals on clothing for me (Babboo got some winter shirts), we did find this:

And being the good mom I am, I was happy to let him to play to his hearts content. And because I'm also a cheap mom I didn't put the two quarters in. Truth be told, Babboo probably had more fun without all the vibrations.

With Chris and Jimmy

2007-10-05T07:01:00.000-07:00

I have a pretty boring job. No need for details, just trust me on this one. Boring, boring, boring. Thankfully it's boring enough that I can sit at my desk and listen to whatever I want on my iPod while zoning out on the task at hand.

A few years ago my best friend May introduced me to the NPR program This American Life. Even though it was on the radio Saturday mornings, you could listen to all of their archived shows (for free) on their website. While it took me a few years, I finally listened to every single episode. The show has been one for over seven years which means I've heard a lot of episodes. I even have a spreadsheet of all my favorites. Really, I do.

Since I ran of out This American Life episodes to listen to, I needed something new to keep me occupied (and sane) at work. I began listening to the free podcasts offered through iTunes. I listened to podcasts on TV shows I liked. I listened to podcasts about TV shows in general. Unfortunately, those podcasts only come out once a week. And sometimes not even that regularly.

A few weeks ago I started to get desperate for something new to listen to. I tried just listening to my music, but that didn't keep me alert enough to stay awake at work. I tried listening to books on tape, but again, it just didn't seem to do the trick. I needed something that had a little more...umph!

I found a NPR podcast about movies and that seemed to do the trick....for a while. But still, that got boring after a while. Plus, I think I met my NPR quota for year by now. (NPR, I love you, but you can be very dry at times.) Again, I needed more umph!

And then I found it. The perfect podcast. The podcast that makes me laugh, makes me think, and makes me want to learn more about what they are even talking about.

So what are they talking about?

Movies.

Yes, the perfect podcast is all about movies.

The basic premise of the Scene Unseen podcast is that one hosts sees the movie and the other host doesn't. Then they talk about the movie based on what they know. It's hilarious. It's smart. It's clever.

And I love it.

The ironic thing is that I don't watch a lot of movie. Let's be honest here, I've only seen two movies in the theater in the last 18 months. (Which is even more pathetic since I live practically across the street from a movie theater.) I've maybe only seen a handful of movies at home either. I just don't watch a lot of movies these days. Another ironic aspect to this is that I wouldn't usually even be interested in the movies they review, especially since I've recently admitted to the interweb that I don't watch rated R movies. I've spent the last week or so listening to almost every one of their archived podcasts and I've only seen two of the movies they've reviewed.

What makes this a good podcast is the way that Chris and Jimmy, the hosts, talk with each other. It's obvious that they are good friends who both know a lot about movies and love movies. Plus, they are just hilarious.

Give this podcast a try. If you do, I recommend you start with either the review for The Simpsons Movie (which I would NEVER see) or the review for Transformers. When you get hooked on this, like I did, make sure to come back and thank me.
----------------------
UPDATED 11/22/07: At the end of each podcast, Chris and Jimmy ask the listeners to e-mail them a favorite movie pertaining to what they will be reviewing the following week. I got brave and sent Chris and Jimmy my movie pick last week. And guess what?! They totally said it on the "Michael Clayton" movie review. So um, go to their website and listen to my name.
(Yes, I said my name is "Isabel"!)

Thankfully you don't have to pay full fare for kids under five years old

2007-10-01T07:01:00.000-07:00

For years and years I was a bus rider. I woke up every morning and raced to make sure I got to the bus stop in time. Then, when the work day was over, I begrudgingly walked to the bus stop to head home. We lived 3 miles from my downtown office, but the bus ride took over 30 minutes. Damn all the people that kept pulling the chain to get off at the next stop!

I didn't hate riding the bus, I just hated having my live revolve around the bus schedule. After a while I got used to the idea of just hoping on and off the bus when I needed to get somewhere. As I've mentioned a million times, we are a one-car-family, so if I wanted to get someplace, I took the bus (The King is the one that usually drives our car).

Since we moved downtown, there hasn't been the need for me to take the bus to work. Now I just walk the few blocks to my office. A few months ago I even gave up my annual bus pass. There just wasn't any need for it. Plus, there was the whole I have a kid and there is not way I can fit him and his stroller on a bus. Of course there were the few times I strapped Babboo on to my chest with the Baby Bjorn and rode the bus to May's house during my maternity leave. But really, I haven't taken the bus for a very long time. I was sort of missing it.

Babboo now walks. And his new stroller is much smaller then the one he had when he was a tiny baby. So I figured now would be the perfect time to take him on the bus with me. Plus, last Saturday was (FREE) Museum Day and we wanted to go to the Museum of Flight which would require a bus ride!

So that's what we did.

I borrowed The King's bus pass, checked the bus schedule, packed up Babboo and headed to the same bus stop I used years back. It felt familiar, until I looked around and noticed that the people that ride the bus on a Saturday are a different breed then those that ride it during commuting hours. Dude, the bus ride was ghetto. I think Babboo could sense that things were looking too good for us, so he started to fuss and move around. I tried to hold him still, to no avail. He kicked some dude sitting in front of us and this dude was not happy with it. He totally turned and glared at my Sweet Babboo. I thought we were going to die.

Thankfully the bus ride only took us about 30 minutes. In that short time we didn't witness any illegal acts or get brutally harmed. We did manage to see lots of cars going by and have Babboo point out every single one to me. Oh, and we snapped a few pictures to witness his first bus ride (or rather, the first bus ride where he knew he was on a bus).

And for the record, if you think the bus riders on a Saturday day are scary, just wait until you are heading home on the bus in the evening. Yeah, even scarier.

Hi. I recognize you from the internet!

2007-09-24T07:01:00.000-07:00

I can't lie. The King is freaked out by the interweb.

He's of the mindset that only dudes who lives in their parents basement are online. He's pretty sure that all mommy bloggers are balding 40 year old guys who watch way too much Star Trek. And don't even get him started on whether or not people are posting real pictures of themselves.

Me, I'm a little more trusting. Especially because I've met quite a few people from the interweb and they are all super, duper, double awesome. Seriously, everyone I've met has rocked. I wish that the interweb lived in my front room and I could make all my internet friends just appear anytime I needed someone to talk to. Or make jewelry with. Or eat frozen pizza with.

While the interweb freaks The King out, he was surprisingly cool on Saturday night when a very lovely lady came up to us at a restaurant and sheepishly said, "Hi. I recognize you from the internet!" I was the one that freaked out. It might have been when she said she started reading me after the post I did with Amalah about bikini waxing. I told her, "great, now you all know what I look like naked." I was instantly nervous.

Thankfully I had just gone to the restroom and reapplied lip gloss.

Susie (not her real name, because I sort of forgot to ask permission to use her name) and her friend were both very lovely. Both of them were very pretty women and I can safely say they were not creepy 40 year old guys. (Although they might be fans of Star Trek, I didn't ask.)

Susie and I had a nice little chat about blogging and why she doesn't blog. (Side note to Susie: start blogging before the month is over. Or if you aren't ready to do that just yet, at least start commenting over at my blog.) Susie told me she had a little boy. She told me she lives in Seattle. She told me she's been divorced.

Dude, all just like me! (I didn't ask her about her waxing practices. I felt that might be a little rude for a first meeting.)

The King took a picture of Susie and I together, I signed a few autographs for her (I kid!) and she and her little party went on their merry way.

And The King and I spent the rest of our night trying to stop Babboo from throwing any more beans and salsa on the floor or the restaurant.

Susie, thanks for taking the time to come over and talk to me. It's always good to meet new people.

E-mail me.

Every! Squirrel! Gets! A! Car!

2007-09-19T16:24:00.000-07:00

Hi. That's me! See that ridiculous grin? That's how I look when I'm driving our NEW minivan.

I can't help it. I'm in total love with our new 2007 Honda Odyssey, even though it's a mom-mobile, a loser cruiser, a family vehicle.

I don't care.

Doesn't the inside look all antiseptic clean and yummy? Well, it was. At that time. Now? Not so much...dirt, crumbs, vomit. You know, gotta break in the car. Thanks again, Jojo, for the pukefest two weekends ago.

The whole car buying process, while very quick for us impulsive purchasers, also blew. I loathe all that financial talk and closing the deal and having salespeople call my cellphone to ask if we'd made a decision.

Incidentally, the decision came down between the Hyundai Entourage & the Odyssey. You can't muck with Honda's reputation and every Odyssey owner's rush of "I LOVE THIS VAN" when you ask them what they think of it.

I'm one of those owners now.

Oh, and it's not just because my Wendy's medium pop fits in one of like fourteen cup holders, although that was a huge selling point.

One frightening side effect, and I'm not sure all owners feel this way, but as I backed out of our driveway, high on hormones, minivan love, new car smell & the sight of one totally adorable toddler, these words actually entered my mind: "we could fill this whole van up with more children." As in, our children, not carpooling.

Scary. Be warned. Maybe the Odyssey should come standard with spermicide and condoms. Just a thought.

=====

UPDATE: Guess which dillhole scraped up the side of the passenger-side mirror backing out of the garage this morning? SON OF A G.D. BITCH.

What, you like pizza?

2007-09-11T12:07:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if you know this about me or not, but I love pizza. For as much as I love pizza can you believe that I had never had authentic Chicago-style-pizza before? Since I was in Chicago anyway, I figured I'd better give it a try.

Mrs. Squirrel and I woke up on our last day in Chicago and decided to find me some damn Chicago-style pizza. Stat.

I'm guessing we walked about 3.2 miles trying to find the pizza place. Oh, did I mention that Chicago is hot in July? 'Cause it is.

This is what I looked like when we finally arrived at Gino's East.

(This lady is tired. And hungry. And sweaty. Ewww.)

And this is what I looked like when our pizza finally arrived.

(Dude, I had no idea stuffed pizza took so long to cook. We almost missed our flights out. Really, we did.)

So was the pizza good?

Sure. But isn't pizza always good?

Is it worth flying to Chicago to eat more often?

Probably not.

Will I order it again the next time I'm in Chicago? Of course. But only if this lady promises to share it with me again. Because, let's be honest, it was the best thing about that meal.

Finding the Babysitter de nuestros suenos

2007-09-03T04:10:00.000-07:00

Several people in my parents' generation, who don't live in our area, have suggested I contact local college students in early education programs to find GREAT babysitters like they did in days of yore.

I'm like "yeah right." I work at a university. I'll stick with our high school junior (who should be getting his own car this month! ) But our fabulous babysitter, A, is busy starting school, and I've always wanted a back-up... a Fabulous Babysitter on Deck. Ready to bat at a moment's notice.

Considering my therapist ordered me to go on more date nights with my husband (she's bossy), I finally stopped ignoring my mom and others and took everyone's advice. Fine. I googled the HR department of our local small liberal arts college and easily found the Off-Campus Local Jobs!

I quickly typed out an easy-to-fill form, besting the other father looking for weekly help, by $1/hr. Oh, the calls should be coming in any minute!

I clicked SEND and flew off to brag to Mr. Squirrel of the proactive, fantastic idea I just put into motion-- assuring him of weekly date nights. Meals where we both sit across from each from meal start to lengthy meal end. Where we don't have to prepare mini-meals of blueberries, cereal and oh my GOD did you forget his milk cup??? Meals that can last past 7:00.

Yeah, you know where this is going, right?

WRONG.

Cuz even I didn't think I could be this dim.

Quite soon after bragging to my husband, I thought back to the form I filled out. Hmmm... something just wasn't quite right. Like, where is Lincoln? Is that a big street near the local college where the rest of the needy parents live?

Getting a little nervous, I headed back here, to my beloved (and somewhat coffee-spill-recovered) laptop and noticed that while I did, in fact, apply for a babysitter from Small College...it was a same-exact-named Small College in LINCOLN, NEBRASKA.

Oh yes. NEBRASKA.

And in case you don't know, we live in NEW YORK.

I'm pretty sure no college student will commute that far for $8/hr.

My First Review

2007-08-29T16:09:00.000-07:00

One of my blogging buddies alerted me to a fabulous book-reviewing opportunity. I couldn't pass up the chance to score a free book. Then I remembered I'd have to work for it. I had to read it by a certain deadline. Ugh.

My deadline came and went-- my schedule, thrown off by some unforeseen events, affected my freetime, so I begged for an extension. Beg and ye shall receive.

Onto the review...

When I received a copy of this book, "Maximum Ride #3: Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports" by James Patterson, in the mail to review, to say I was disappointed is an understatement. First off, I'm a whole "judge a book by its cover" kind of gal. Sorry, but it's true, and this cover screamed "SCI FI." Besides Mystery Science Theatre 3000, which basically snarks bad Sci Fi movies, I'm not into Sci Fi. I see Sci Fi paperbacks, and I scoff. I move it along. I look around to see if anyone I know saw me ACCIDENTALLY wander into the Sci Fi section. Do you think I can say Sci Fi any more? Lord.

Second, the title confirmed its SciFi-edness AND it included the words "Extreme Sports" which automatically caused my eyes to roll back into my skull. I guess that's second and third. Not to mention (fourth), the book is the third in a series-- I'm fairly anal, so I would never, on my own accord, begin a book out of order in a series. My skin prickled. My eyes scrunched. Oh sweet Jesus, how am I going to get through this? Then I scanned the accompanying materials which alerted me to the fact that the book was written for the young adult audience. Do I give up now? Is it too late to mail the book back with my sincere apologies and cancel any further book reviewing opportunities?

No. That's giving up. So sometime last week, I set aside alllllll of my hesitations about this THIRD book in a series of Sci-Fi related young-adultedness and set forth, one page at a time.

Guess what? Overall, I enjoyed the book. It's definitely written for a younger audience, so I had to get used to the conversational tone and incomplete sentence structure. Of course, sometimes I write like that, so I'm not judging, just addressing since I don't often see that in books.

The main characters, part of a flock of bird-kids, yes, children who have been genetically altered to be part human, part birds are easy to like and support. I wanted them to kick butt against the evil scientists. Max, the central character, narrates and leads the Flock. She kicks ass. She? Yes, I was surprised too, even though I shouldn't have been since she's the largest character on the cover. But, I enjoy being tossed a little surprise and one that breaks stereotypes.

So there's a lot of backstory that I missed, having joined the story in its third act; however, the author provides enough information for me to get the gist that the children were brought or born into the (evil) Institute, raised in a School and just escaped at the end of the second book. Some characters from the Institute or School were kind, some were traitorous, and many were plain evil. The Flock learns of a new plan -- one to kill them off (uh-oh), and another one which will affect the world -- the plan to eliminate all weak or sick people -- anyone with defects. The Director and her followers plan on eliminating half of the world's population, thereby ending hunger and sickness. What could possibly go wrong? The evildoers have created a race of robotic flying ugly things called FlyBoys who swarm about trying to find the Flock and eliminate them. No matter how many FlyBoys, the flock seems to always prevail...now this kind of annoyed me. It's like 24-- somehow no matter what happens, Jack Bauer escapes unscathed or impervious to the flesh wound-- never slowing down, always ready with his next "yelled whisper" command.

OK, the point of this whole book is for the Flock to save the world. Kind of like Jack Bauer. But there are six of the Flock plus a couple other supporting characters who have turned good, but the Flock is always wondering -- are they really good now or are they just acting nice so I don't see them rip my head off and shove it down my throat?

One of the ways to save the world includes blogging! YAY! The second lead character, Fang, has a blog, and he shares the evil plan & the Flock's troubles with the world, hoping to gather support from children around the globe. Don't make me start singing about "children are our future..." but it's true. Fang alerts them to the evil Institute (which masks itself & its subsidiaries as other companies which pollute, destroy the environment & conduct unethical genetic testing...not to mention, concoct plans to kill off half the world's population). Throughout the book, you see Fang's post and some comments. Word spreads, and in the end, young adults and kids from all over the world do band together to help bring down the plan.

One critique I have involves character development-- I don't feel invested in the characters outside of the main one. I had a difficult time keeping three of the Flock members apart-- not much was given to me to form attachments to Nudge, Gasman or Iggy. Or was it Izzy. See? Perhaps I'd know more about them had I started the series with the first book. I'm sure it would be difficult for the author to fully develop each character with every installation.

Overall, this book was very enjoyable, even if it was tailored to a young adult audience. While I probably won't seek out the first two installments in the series, I did pick up another of James Patterson's adult novels which was given to me as a gift by a family friend after I graduated from grad school a couple of years ago. Ironically, it starts off about a young girl named Max, who can fly. No really. It did. Then I remembered a blurb in the beginning of Maximum Ride, that this Max is not the Max from the adult books, although there are very many similiarities. I'll probably now add James Patterson to my list of authors whose entire works I read, and I'd definitely recommend the Maximum Ride series to young adults I know.

You can call me Flo

2007-08-27T07:01:00.000-07:00

I'm a creature of habit.

Every morning I arrive at work. Start up my laptop. Put my cell phone on my desk. Walk into the kitchen. Make myself a cup of oatmeal. Walk back to my desk. Add granola to oatmeal. Sit down. Begin to eat oatmeal.

And then I spend the rest of my day on the internet.

Today I decided to push my oatmeal packets aside and try one of the other packets that's been sitting in my desk ever since my coworker brought it back from his trip to The South.

What was this new breakfast treat I was going to try?

Can you believe I'd never had grits. before? Really, I hadn't.

I walked into the kitchen at work and was met by an older gentleman whom I've never conversed with before. He noticed my packet of grits and got all excited. "You're having grits? I love grits!" "Really? I've never had them before. They're good?" "Oh yes. But you can't find them here. Only in The South." I explained to him that one of my coworkers had brought me pack quite a few packs of grits from a work trip. Then this guy said, "be prepared to doctor them up quite a bit." I told him I had some brown sugar in my desk, so I was set.

Can I just say that with the right amount of brown sugar this little cup of warm grits was Heaven. Seriously the perfect start to my work day. I started to sing the praises of the grits. Which meant I had to share my few packs with other coworkers, who were equally impressed with the warm consistency of the grits.

I hope that old guy in the kitchen wasn't right. Because I'll be looking for more grits the next time I'm at the grocery store.

So tell me, do people in The South really eat grits? Do they like them? Is it bad that I like them? I mean, are grits usually reserved for people with pet alligators, bad teeth and jacked up trucks who are married to their cousins*?

*the only Southern sterotypes I could think of on such short notice.

CIRCLE OF LIFE

2007-08-23T06:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, I used this post title on my other site, but eat it.

Last week the Squirrel family headed to Michigan for vacation. Unfortunately, a family tragedy occured right before we left for home, so our plans changed to include a visitation and funeral.

We chose to bring Jojo to the visitation, as it was in the late afternoon the night before the funeral. What's a visitation, you ask? (Ok, Isabel asked me.) I guess it's synonymous with a wake or viewing. Family and friends gather for a few hours, or drop-by, to pay their respects to the deceased, provide comfort to the grieving, and grieve themselves. My cousin had collected hundreds of pictures of my uncle and displayed them on posterboards. Flowers graced every last space surrounding the urn, which I didn't even notice until after Mr. Squirrel escorted a wild Jojo home. Thank goodness Jojo didn't escape our clutches to knock over any of the precariously perched floral arrangements or anything else for that matter.

As for the funeral, which we didn't want to bring Jojo or my niece to, our good family friends volunteered their services. Aimee and Audrey, now in the 20s, happily agreed to babysit my the two kids with a twinkle in their eyes.

Why?

Because my brother and I (mostly me), spent a good majority of our summers babysitting THEM when they were ~~monsters~~ little.

One summer, I babysat them from 7:30 until 5:00 five days a week for $80/week. We had a blast: going on nature hikes, collecting leaves and acorns and making nature scrapbooks; playing dress-up; coloring and doing other crafts; and, duh, watching Dirty Dancing. See, their parents owned a boatload of movies. Dirty Dancing, probably not the best movie for the 6-8 year old crowd, got us moving. We'd sing and dance and have a ball. I can even remember popping in this movie when their now 6 foot, 2 inch, MIT-attending baby brother was Jojo's age. He loved it, too.

I fiercely love these kids. Our families spend holidays together, and for many years, Baby Brother assumed we were actual family. One day, their mom had to explain that my mom actually wasn't her sister. He was sad, but she explained how friends can be family, too. I've always known this coming from a very small family. Our family friends have been as much, if not more, of an influence on my life than my extended family.

So, the girls watched OUR kids last week. Jojo and K immediately took to Aimee and Audrey, pulling them in different directions to play. Mr. Squirrel and I left quietly without saying goodbye (trust me, it's easier on everyone), and we heard no crying when we called after the funeral.

Apparently, Aimee & Audrey's mom and dad (who are like aunt/uncle to me and attended the funeral) called three times throughout the afternoon to make sure everything was ok. I thought that was hilarious.

They successfully got both kids down for long naps (not a surprise with Jojo, but my niece, K-- she doesn't take to napping very easily). Afterwards, both toddlers ate large lunches and then the afternoon activities really began.

That is when Aimee and Audrey taught Jojo & K how to jump on my parents' bed.

"But it's ok!" said Aimee, "because we told them that jumping only works on Grandma & Grandpa's beds, because it's a Magic Bed!"

Seriously, they were beating that poor bed into a pulp when we got home-- with such joy and vigor, that we couldn't help but laugh and jump with them.

Until my parents came home. Then we quickly directed them into the living room, where the "real" toys were.

Aimee and Audrey claim, to this day, that the kids were WONDERFUL and they had so much fun. They refused to take any money for watching our kids. Wha?

Yeah, too bad they live so far away, because our kids had so much fun with them, and the girls are naturals (probably because they had their own awesome babysitter -- me, duh -- when they were little).

At least, that's what I tell them all the time.

It's Just Not Us

2007-08-20T16:59:00.000-07:00

My husband and I drive old cars. Old, reliable cars.

Mr. Squirrel drives a rusty 1986 Honda hatchback, while my car just passed its 11th birthday. Happy belated, my sunfire red chariot:

We're not ones to spend money on new cars or upgrading our current rides. Hell, we don't even subscribe to caller id or call waiting.

Anyhoo-- see my car? What's wrong with that picture? I mean, I know, it runs. Hell, I even have a car. I shouldn't be complaining, but I have been since the unfortunate "pot"hole (I like to think of it as CraterGate) incident of post-Dixie Chicks concert 2006.

My friends, Poodle and Sweets, were visiting from out of town, and I forced them to go with me to a Dixie Chicks concert. Things evened out rather quickly when Sweets wanted to hit the McDonald's drive-thru after the show only to be in a long line of assturds and witness a very dirty and bitter drive-thru employee (I won't go into details. I'm a tad nauseated these days.).

Thrilled to have lived through GrossMcDonald'sDriveThruGate of 2006 and on the path homebound (it was past 9pm. Momma need her pillow.), I sped along the on-ramp to one of Upstate New York's finest highways (sarcasm, can ya hear it?) only to have my car jump and buck at the CRATER which ATE MY HUBCAP.

We didn't realize it at the time, naturally, as we were all just thankful to be alive and soothing the bumps on the tops of our heads.

The next day, when we were returning to my car from some shopping mall I probably dragged them to because, HELLO, I never get out so screw museums or anything remotely touristy, I just need THE MALL, I saw my car (pictured above) and said something snide like, "nice ghetto Corolla" only to realize in mid "la" (of the Corolla) that that was my ghetto Corolla.

So I may have complained about my lack of 4 hubcaps to my husband a couple of times, and I may have said "new hubcaps" when he asked what I wanted for my birthday. But I meant it. The car just felt uneven. It looked crappy. I couldn't handle it.

And all this comes from a person who washes her car 4x a year max. I don't take care of my things. I don't even care that rust creeps along the rear passenger tire. But that lost hubcap? It irks me. Or should I say "irked" me.

Cuz looksee here: my husband and Jojo pimped my Corolla!

That, dear friends, is father-son quality time; and, a rare glimpse at the back of Mr. Squirrel. Not that I've ever posted a front view of him, but gee, he needs a haircut.

Who knew hubcaps were so reasonably priced as long as you don't need really blingy hubcaps. Me? Nope. Just a Corolla. Who (in good taste) would really want to pimp out their COROLLA? I just needed some classic hubcaps. Mr. Squirrel found them online for $40. Dude.

If I knew my daily agitation could have been erased almost a year earlier by spending $40 and 10 minutes of our Saturday, well, I would have started complaining way back then.

Can ya see the scratches on the old caps? Oops, my parallel parking skillz aren't what they used to be. As Cher would say, "my bad!"

The new hubcaps are shiny and pretty and complete. A whole set.

My Corolla...it feels so much more confident these days. I can tell. Just from a $40 face/tire lift.

(And this would be a great time to post that picture of my car with the hubcaps in place, but trust me, I ... uh... just didn't get around to taking that picture. The hubcaps are nearly identical-- but with five fake nuts instead of four. More nuts = always better.)

Toothsome - the results

2007-08-15T15:02:00.000-07:00

Did you all see my lame question to Amalah, Queen of Everything Having to do with Beauty? You should go and read it before you read the rest of this post.

Go on. We'll wait...

Okay, so I have lovely straight teeth. Well, now I do. I didn't for a long time. Not until I practically sold my first-born-child and invested in some adult braces. While the teeth are straight, they haven't always been so white. They are a lovely shade of pee-yellow. Which isn't so lovely.

Thanks to Amalah (and a $20 gift card I had to Amazon) I bought myself the Crest Whitestrips* that she so lovingly suggested I try. Since I was headed to BlogHer I figured it was the perfect time to give 'em a try. I admit I didn't start the 14 day before BlogHer, so I wound up having to force Mrs. Squirrel into talking to me each night while I had my strips on. No biggie.

While it's true, they make your teeth ultra sensitive, I didn't found it to be that big of an issue. I'll take a little pain for my beauty. I was sort of worried that I was doing some sort of permanent damage to my teeth, but the package assured me I wasn't.

I didn't mind the twice-daily 30 minute applications. I did the morning one while I was in the shower. (The instruction manual said that was okay, as long as you keep your mouth closed.) I did the evening application after Babboo was in bed and before I fell asleep. (Note to Metalia, don't sleep with them on.) I actually found the forced time with myself relaxing.

While I can't say for sure whether or not there is a huge difference to my teeth, and The King swears he can't tell a difference, I have been complimented on my new white(r) teeth.

Seriously, one lady at work told me my teeth look nice.

And that's enough to tell me the Crest Whitestrips worked for me.

(The first picture was taken, and not very well, the night before my first application. The second picture was taken at BlogHer in the midst of having a good time.)

Will I use them again? Maybe. If I get another gift card. But they are a little too expensive for my taste. Even if they do work (people, I admit I'm cheap. Damn cheap.)

Now I just need to convince The King to give them a try. He says he wants to, but again, he wasn't convinced at the results.

*I was in no way compensated for this post. You know, in case you cared.

It's like three New Things rolled into one post

2007-08-07T07:01:00.000-07:00

Remember how my bestest friend May is moving away? Yeah, it's happening this weekend. I'm still in denial about it. I know it's happening. But I refuse to think about it for fear that I will start to cry and never stop.

I mean really, she's moving far, far away.

And while this may be considered a New Thing, it's not today's New Thing.

Last Saturday May and her little girl came over to our house to swim in our little pool. Is that a New Thing? Yeah, not so much. But what happened later that night is most definitely a New Thing.

A few of us lady friends met and headed over to a M oroccan restaurant that none of us had ever tried, but had always wanted to. We wanted to try sitting on the floor and eating with our hands. Not to mention a night out with May before she leaves us. Oh, and no kids around. That's always a bonus.

(Thanks to WeekdayWisdom for the lovely headscarf. I rocked it. Sort of.)

There was far too much food for the four of us to eat. There is no way that any group of four people could have finished off the amount of chicken and lamb that was served. Plus dude, we were eating with our hands (okay, I know you can see the forks in this picture. But I don't think we were technically supposed to use them). I know that my hands were clean, but I can't speak for my lovely friends.

In between stuffing our faces with bread and phylo, we were up close and personal with the belly dancer who was strutting her stuff in the middle of the restaurant (that was made to look like a tent, ahh fancy). The dancer wore a leopard print dress and accepted dollar bills.

Mostly we just tried to not make eye contact with her.

After dinner we tried, in vain, to see if there was a movie playing. There wasn't anything until way too late. So instead we headed over to Macy's to look at fancy dresses.

And this is where the most glorious New Thing was introduced to me.

My friend Sunny requested that we all pick out a fancy dress that we would never ever try on, and then try it on. Poor May is almost 6 months pregnant, so her choices were limited. We both decided to try this lovely aqua number that is very reminiscent of The Stepford Wives, ala 1970's. While I was able to get a smaller size, poor May was forced to wear a size 21 W. Bless her pregnant little heart.

(I'm the one on the right. In case you were confused by our identical outfits.)

You know we didn't stop at just trying on one dress. We all went a little overboard and tried on dress after dress after dress. It was fun.

Eventually it was closing time and we had to put our plain old clothes back on a leave.

That's right, we shut the place down.

And dude, I can't wait to go back and try that New Thing again.

So tell me, have you played this little dressing room game before? I can't believe I've lived this long and never done it.

Shockingly New & Fantastic

2007-07-30T17:23:00.000-07:00

So we fine (and few, that'd be me) posters of this little blog met up for the first time. It was new! See, it fits. When Isabel and I were dining over some Chicago pizza yesterday morning, we talked about how I haven't posted in a (long) while here at New to Us.

I told her I was going to post about us meeting, and she's like "YEAH THAT WORKS!" and I'm all "I GET TO POST ABOUT IT" before she could finish spraying me with her spittle. Not that she spits spittle. I jest. And heart her.

Honestly, I wasn't nervous to meet her at all. Through our blogs, emails, IMs, and phone calls, I felt already that Isabel was one of my closest friends. So what could possibly go wrong?

Clearly, oh so much.

Thankfully, nothing. She's gorgeous, kind, considerate, thoughtful, generous, hilarious and loving. And, she let me use her deoderant when I forgot mine. Gotta love a sister.

A new thong - the tiny edition

2007-07-25T07:01:00.000-07:00

Hey, remember when I decided I needed a new flip-flop and how it changed my life when I finally found one? That was almost 2 months ago and I'm still going strong with my lovely and oh so, cozy flip-flops. I wear them into work in the morning and then change into my heels. I wear them after work when I walk to pick up Babboo from school.

Heck, let's be honest. Sometimes I even forget to take them off while at work. Oopsie.

I've been looking for some sort of summer shoe all summer for my Sweet Babboo. I've never been able to find one. The problem is that they want you to pay $15.00 for a freaking slab of rubber for a wee child. I'm not down with that. Even when I found them on sale at Old Navy for $7.99 I just couldn't do it. I wasn't sure the kid was even going to be able to wear them. Some people can't stand having that piece of fabric between their toes.

Our little family is going on vacation in September to Washington D.C. and New York city. I'm pretty sure that sweet little Babboo doesn't want to have his feet sweating the entire trip. (I hear it's hot out there this time of year.) So I knew I needed to get him something besides his tennis shoes.

This past week I found what I was looking for; flip-flops for $1.47 a pair.

I bought 3 pairs in all different sizes and colors. I figure he can grow into them.

(Australian "hot rod" t-shirt courtesy of Durga.)

I put them on his little feet and shoved the shoe between his precious toes. He stood up and ran away from me. At least I know he can still walk with them on.

After a few minutes of this he paused to try to yank them off. Good thing I had secured them nice and tight. Haa! There is no outsmarting this mom.

All in all, I think they will work just fine for the remainder of the summer. They will be perfect for our trip and our walks down to our swimming pool.

It's just too bad he's not allowed to wear them to school. Them and their silly "hard toed shoes" rule.

Tetanus: Infection generally occurs through wound contamination, and often involves a cut or deep puncture wound.

2007-07-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

Last week I was home with Babboo in the evening. We were sitting on the floor reading Brown Bear for the hundredth time. We were just minding our business when the phone rang.

Thankfully it's not every day that I get a phone call from The King like this:

The King: How often do you need a tetanus shot?

Me: I think every 15 years. Why?!

The King: Can you find out for sure?

Me: Why? What's going on?

The King: Nothing much. I just need to know. Can you look it up in a one of Babboo's books?

Me: What happened?!! Just tell me. Now!

The King: Don't freak out, but I stepped on a nail. Can you find out if I need a shot?

Me: You just got a shot when you stepped on the nail when you were building our last house.

The King: Right. But I can't remember how long ago it was. Maybe five years. Maybe six. Call you find out if I need another one?

Crap. The King sure was being calm about this. But I wasn't. Stepping on a nail is not something that I like to hear about. Especially when it's my lovely husband who is the new owner of a hole in his foot.

(I may have just gagged a little.)

I'm not sure what book he wanted me to looking it up in. And why a baby book would have had the information. Not having a working laptop at home is a drag. I mean, what other way do any of us nerds have to diagnose our ailments without the interweb?

I called the only number I could find for a doctor. It was for Babboo's doctor, but I figured they would know. It was after hours so I got a nurse on the line. I explained what had happened to The King and that we weren't sure it if had been five or six years since his last shot. She did not know how often you need a tetanus shot. Dude, don't they teach that in nursing school? I would think that would be right after they tell you that human gestation is 40 weeks.

The nurse told me she would call me back after she found out.

I decided to call my mom, who is also a nurse. Albeit a nurse for well-babies.

Crap. I got her voicemail. I left her a message asking her how long you can go between tetanus shots and to please call me back asap with the information.

I waited for either nurse to call me back.

The doctors office called me back first and told me; "your husband needs to get a shot within the next 24 hours. You need one every five years."

As soon as I got off the phone with her my Mom called me and told me, "The King is fine. You only need a shot every ten years."

I call The King back and decide to not tell him anything about my conversation with my mom. Don't get to give him more reasons to not like her.

The following day The King makes his appointment to get a tetanus shot. During the time he stepped on the nail and received his shot he did not experience any of the following:

Lockjaw
Spasms
Difficulty in swallowing
Fever
Sweating

Although I did repeatedly ask him if his jaw was feeling extra tight.

While getting his shot he verified that he wouldn't need another shot for five years. The doctor told him that you only need a new tetanus shot every ten years. But they recommend you get a new one after five years if you have received an injury.

Technically my mother was right.

And here's hoping I won't be getting another call like this one from The King. One New Thing in the way of injury sustained while building your dream house is enough for our little family.

(Because I love each and every one of you, there will be no picture of the hole in The King's foot. It's too bad I didn't get a picture of Babboo kissing said hole. Because seriously, that was pretty cute. The King might even tell you it was worth all the pain just to have his little guy kiss it and make it all better.)

Don't let your meat loaf

2007-07-10T07:01:00.000-07:00

I remember Sunday Dinner growing up. It consisted of my mom or dad throwing a chunk of meat and veggies into the crock pot before we headed out for church. We'd get home from church three hours later and before we'd even walk through the front door we'd smell it. The intense aroma of onions mixed with meat was overwhelming. Instantly we'd become one of Pavlov's dogs and salivate.

My mom would hurry and mix up some rolls, gravy and a salad while the rest of us changed out of our church clothes and into our lounge around the house all day clothes. Then we'd hurry into the kitchen to set the table for the feast.

Good times, good times.

Sunday Dinner these days are spent over at The King's parents house. My mother-in-law puts on a Thanksgiving-style dinner for us every Sunday. She's no slouch when it comes to cooking. The lady is talented. I'll be the first to admit it's the best meal we eat all week. I was a little surprised when she called me last Saturday afternoon to tell us that we could have the weekend off. We could eat Sunday Dinner at our own house and be together as our own little family.

Crap. That meant I was in charge of Sunday Dinner for The King, Babboo and myself.

I drove up to the grocery store on Saturday night with a list of items I would need.

Slab of meat. Check.
Onions. Check.
Carrots. Check.
Potatoes. Check.
Marinade? Why not. Check.
Biscuits. Check.
Bagged salad. Check.

Sunday morning before church I remembered that I needed to do something with this stuff.

Crap.

I hurriedly peeled the potatoes. And then mangled the peeler in the disposal. Threw in the baby carrots and chopped sweet onions.

But what else? I had no idea.

I soaked the meat in the 15-minute marinade and in passing read that I needed to brown the meat before putting it in the crock pot. Dude, I would have never known that I needed to do that. I almost ruined the entire meal. I figured I would need some sort of seasoning, but I didn't know what. Or how much. So I threw in some sprigs of rosemary I had sitting around from last week's meals, sprinkled some salt and pepper and called it good.

I closed the lit on the pot. (And when I saw "closed the lid" I mean I covered it with foil since my damn lid has never fit right in the 10 years I've owned it.) We headed off to church where I would spend the next 3 hours chasing Babboo around and changing no less then 3 poopy diapers in the name of the sweet Baby Jesus.

At least I wasn't slaving over a hot stove.

We came home from church and voila...dinner was served. It was easy and good and amazing and something I hope to do again.

We even had enough meat left over to make biscuit sandwiches for dinner the next night. I'm all for two easy dinners out of one.

All in all this dinner cost us like $6.00. That's pretty much free in my book. And seriously, it took like 20 minutes to make. Plus, The King loved it.

As far as I'm concerned, that makes it a hit.

Plus since I didn't have to spend so much time in the kitchen on Sunday night, it gave us time to venture out of the apartment and go for a walk around the city. Too bad the park was full of crazies so wasn't anybody to ask to take a picture of us together.

Maybe "24 hours" means something else to them

2007-07-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what has been causing my lips to be super duper chapped. I'm thinking it's from the unusual amount of time I've been spending in our swimming pool. Or maybe it's the fact that my pale, white face has actually seen the sun lately.

No matter what is causing it, my lips have been killing me. Killing me. Nothing has been giving me any relief. I've tried all my usual lip treatments and nothing has worked. In fact I think some of them are making it worse. What the crap is that about? It's about pain, my friends. And I hate it.

I read Amalah's Smackdown post about peeling lips and then I got all freaked out thinking I had some sort of lip fungus problem. Maybe I got a fungus in the pool. Or the locker room. Or maybe from my baby who finds it necessary to drink all the water in the pool and then kiss me. Crap, does my baby have a fungus.

I decided to head to the drugstore and buy something else to try on my lips. Obviously, what I had wasn't working.

I forked over $8 and bought the Sally Hansen 24 Hour Lip Treatment. (I have been a fan of Sally Hansen's nail care products for eons.) I was excited about how pretty the tube was. It's all gold and shiny and very luxurious looking. It looks like something a spy would carry around, you know, if it were a spy who needed a gold tampon.

I anxiously applied it to my lips. I spared nothing as I caked on layer upon layer of the lip treatment, desperate for some relief. And then I waited for my lips to bounce back to life. I waited for the burning to stop. I waiting for a moment of relief.

All I ended up with was lips that we now full of goop on top of peeling skin.

In case you are wondering, that is not a good look. No matter who you are.

I went into the restroom at work and wiped off the goop. I waiting a little while and then reapplied it. This time I didn't put on as much. But still, it was actually worse then sans the Lip Treatment.

Before bed that night I decided to apply some hoping that it could word it's promised magic while I slept. I envisioned waking up with full, pink lips that were as soft as Babboo's bottom. Instead I woke up with the same peeling lips. I was mad. Was my $8 spent in vain? Do you know how many candy bars I could have bought with $8?

Screw Sally Hansen. So what if she has the #2 nail polish out there. Her lip treatments don't work for me.

I went cold turkey off any type of lip goop for two full days. It was so hard. My lips were begging for any type of moisture. But my gut kept telling me they needed a break. After the two days I went back to my old stand-by; Carmex. In a matter of hours my lips felt as good as new. Maybe I just needed to cleanse them for those few days. Who knows.

All I can say is that I'm happy to have my lips back. Especially in time to meet Rhett Miller.

So what did I learn? Just because the packaging is all fancy and shiny, it doesn't mean the stuff will work for me.

I know more about Irish culture then is probably normal for a person who is not Irish

2007-06-29T07:01:00.000-07:00

It recently came to my attention that I haven't read a single book since I became a mother.

Let me rephrase that.

I haven't read a single book that doesn't have the sentence brown bear, brown bear, what do you see? in it. Sure, I've read a lot of kid-centric books and seen a lot of TV. But no books that scream out; I'm adult and like to read about adult topics! Back in the day I was quite the reader. I spent a lot of time riding the bus and would take advantage of that time to catch up on Harry Potter and anything to do with cowboys. I decided I should read more. I just wasn't sure when I would read. I mean, when do people read? How do you read a book a week while working full time and being a parent? I can't even keep up on social engagements and my relationship with my TiVo.

Last week I decided to just go balls to the wall. I picked up a Maeve Binchy book that was in the bookshelf at our apartment complex. I had read a ton of her books, so I knew I would like this one. I figured it was a good, safe place to start.

And it has been. I have gladly been reintroduced to Maeve Binchy and her lovely writing. She writes about themes that I always find so interesting. Which is just odd since none of them relate to me specifically. But still, so interesting.

This week I have made time to read. After Babboo has gone to bed and after The King has fallen asleep watching TV on the couch, I grab my book and snuggle in our bed with my book.

Soon after, I start to fall asleep myself. But dude, so far I have read many pages. And it feels good. I feel like I'm improving myself. I know that reading is far better then watching TV. And it's time just for me.

I better hurry and get this book done before the latest Harry Potter comes out.

I only have 24 days to go.

(So once I'm done with these 2 books, what should I read next? The interweb is always happy to recommend books. And also, how do you all find time to read?)

Sometimes it helps to be a little more observant

2007-06-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

You've all heard it before, but bear with me.

When we sold our house and moved into the apartment while our new house was being built, we put a lot of things in a storage unit. A lot of things. Since I was newly pregnant I took that chance to pack up my summer clothes and add them to the ever mounting pile to go to storage. I figured; I'll never be skinny enough to wear them again. I hate to admit it, but I really did think that.

By last summer I was no longer pregnant. I was itching for something to wear. I needed some of my cute short sleeved T's and any of my capri pants. But damn it, they were in the storage unit. The storage unit that is totally inaccessible because of the huge Viking range and mattress at the front. Even though I knew The King couldn't get inside the storage unit I didn't stop whining that I wanted my summer clothes. I needed my summer clothes. I had no skirts, hardly any capris and just a few shirts on hand. Boo-hoo.

Slowly I've bought some new clothes. This is hard to do when I know I have perfectly good clothes in the storage unit. At least I think I do. At this point I can't even remember what in there. I know there is an awesome brown skirt and an orange top I love. I'm pretty sure there is a pair of sexy Steve Madden shoes. Beyond that, it will be like Christmas.

I know it's official summer time. But summer hasn't come to Seattle yet. As I type this I'm wearing a sweater and trying to not be as cold as I really am. I'm patiently awaiting the arrival of summer. Last Saturday I was going through my closet and packing up some of my wool pants and sweaters that I was pretty sure I wouldn't be wearing for the next few month. I was going to pack them away in the big plastic Rubbermaid bin we keep in our bedroom.

When I opened the bin I was shocked by what I found in there. Tucked under all the excess blankets that belong to Babboo I found a pile of my summer clothes. I had hit pay dirt and I was happy. While my skirts, summer T's and shoes weren't in the bin, a ton of stuff was. There were six pairs of pants and 3 shirts! Did you hear that? Six pairs of pants. That's like more pants then I've got in my closet now. Lucky for me, two of them are even black. I'm totally set.

I guess this means I should just stop bitching to The King and open my eyes a little more often.

Sawing a New Reality

2007-06-23T21:15:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, Jojo almost got struck by a ginormous tree limb.

This ginormous tree limb. See Jojo re-creating the frightening scene the day after. Jojo was, as above, playing with his Cozy Coupe about a foot closer to the branch at the time of the (life change, traumatizing) incident. Thankfully, I was not there, and Mr. Squirrel was several yards away, mowing the lawn.

One may query: 'might our fair Jojo be traumatized?'

But this isn't about him. I mean, hello, I turn Dr. Phil on for him. He'll be fine. This is about me. You're here for me, right? No? Well, screw it. Maybe if you stick around, I'll throw in another photo of Jojo or some inside scoop on the life & times of one gorgeous blogger named Isabel.

When Jojo and I went outside to play the Day After the Incident, the aftermath remained.

Jojo tried to play around it, but the memories of his daddy screaming and running towards him, the crackling leaves and branches as the limb fell, the WHOOSH as the branch fell to the earth next to him and the big ass branch itself distracted him so that all morning, he'd point up at the tree, then down at the branch, and then say "boom" before looking up at me with those big watery blue eyes. Gulp.

"We have to wait until daddy gets home to clean up the branch," I said sweetly.

And then I smirked. At myself. I have to wait until daddy gets home? Whhaaaaat?

I couldn't BELIEVE I said that.

I've caught myself saying things like that before...falling back onto stereotypical husband/wife roles, throwing my husband the keys to my car when we go out for dinner and assuming he'll hang pictures-- all things that my mom expects my dad to do while she handles the majority of the cleaning, gardening and laundry.

In fact, one of the activities that I most clearly "assign" to my husband -- grilling -- actually prompted me to start this blog. I saw in myself the need to overcome my inclination to let my husband handle all grilled meats because that what my dad did. He's the grillmaster. I can't remember my mom ever turning on the grill. And, I really had no intention to ever learn.

But I caught myself a couple of times lamenting my husband's late return from work and trying to re-arrange dinner since by the time he got home, it'd be getting too late to start the grill. Why do I have to wait for him to start the grill? Oh yes, because that's his job. No, it's because I've never made the effort to learn how to grill.

Have I learned to grill yet? NO. But, the summer is not over. I'm going to do it.

I did, however, do something about the large tree branch in our yard. The morning of this epiphany also coincided with the day the town comes around to pick up yardwaste. If I didn't do something with the tree branch, it'd be cloggin' up my yard for another week. I couldn't wait for Mr. Squirrel. I had to get busy.

And so I did. I stomped into the garage like I meant business (which I did. Clearly.), grabbed the bow saw that I knew Mr. Squirrel would use and commenced sawing...and maybe once or twice whacked myself in the shin with the branch because I wasn't holding it down in the right spot.

Who cares though-- I did it! All by myself. Mr. Squirrel was surprised & proud, and I have to say, so was I.

Celexa, No Longer My Co-Pilot

2007-06-20T09:34:00.000-07:00

So today is my second day off the Celexa. And I guess this isn't truly a 'new thing' considering I tried weaning off of it a few months ago to disappointing failure. At that time, I desperately wanted to begin trying for another baby.

My primary care physician, a very liberal yet drug-conservative man, could not stress enough his unwillingness to recommend any anti-depressants for me to be on during a pregnancy. I understand.

And so I tried to wean off the Celexa using a lengthy 3 week long tapering process. By the time I got to half a pill once a day (1o mg), I was a wreck-- impatient and angry towards Jojo, Mr. Squirrel and my visiting parents. I threw things that got in my way or angered me and didn't censor myself from swearing angrily in front of Jojo. That didn't last long-- I got back on the Celexa and told myself we'd wait on having another baby.

I'd rather be a patient and kind mom to one than an irritable and awful mom to two.

That rationale sounded reasonable and, well, rational. It felt, however, much different. It felt like I failed. My heart and body long for another child, and just seeing families of two children or hearing about another's pregnancy stir up feelings of jealousy, inadequacy and intense disappointment.

I didn't talk about it to anyone. Even Mr. Squirrel. I just told him I went back on and that was that. "We'll try again later."

A few weeks went by and one evening, lying together in bed, he quietly asked "are we going to try and have another baby?"

"Yes," I said definitively, "but I can't do it now."

Neither of us said anything, but the question of "WHEN?" hung in the air. If weaning off the meds didn't work now, why would it work in the future?

So I went back to my doctor. It had been several weeks, and as far as he was concerned, we were actively trying for a baby. Sadly, I told him that I started up the meds again. He looked so sad, with his head hanging down, and

He suggested exercise, a better diet and again, trying to wean. I knew I couldn't do it. I could do the exercise. I started eating a better diet-- I really DID wean off the donuts for a couple of weeks, but I knew my body couldn't handle the calming effects of Celexa. I told him I wanted to talk to a psychiatrist...someone with more extensive knowledge of psychiatric medications.

I think he was offended, and I didn't give a shit. He had sort of propositioned that I either do it without meds and commit to diet & exercise changes and try for a baby OR talk to a psychiatrist for a second opinion while not trying for a baby.

I suggested a combo of both-- diet and exercise improvements, hold off on trying AND talk to a psychiatrist.

So I began seeing a psychiatric nurse practitioner about a month ago in addition to my biweekly therapy sessions (with a totally clickable social worker). She suggested I do a quick wean off of Celexa (3 days at 1/2 dose then OFF) and then (insert hand slapping gestures that, I believe, indicated baby-making with Mr. Squirrel) get crackin'. That was, of course, she recommended I make appointments with my OB and pediatrician (to discuss breastfeeding on anti-deps)... do I really need to talk to my pediatrician now? I think we're jumping the gun.

Plus, hello? $40 in copays to have them say they'd rather me not be on anything. And, I can't get into my OB for another two months, so I told the receptionist that I'd like a nurse to call to discuss. Needless to say, I'll be 80 by the time I get that phone call, so we're moving ahead without their expert opinions.

It's now Day 2 without anti-depressants, and yesterday I could really feel the withdrawal symptoms. I'm irritable, impatient, prone to bursts of anger, dizziness, nauseated and in desperate need of good sleep. It sucks.

At the recommendation of my therapist, I told Mr. Squirrel that I may be like this for 2 weeks, but that we should consider me having the flu, a sickness which will pass with time.

I know he's trying to be supportive. And I'm trying very hard to be happy and patient. But sometimes he snaps at me after I'm particularly grumpy, and this morning when I asked him if he'd be home for lunch, he said "would you want to come home to you?"

No, but I'd still want to come home to see Jojo.

One day at a time, I guess.

Mother Talk Blog Tour: Mamasource.com

2007-06-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

I moved out here to Seattle over seven years ago. The only person I knew at that time was The King and his family. No friends and no real way to meet new friends. Looking back at that first year out here, I was lonely. It's too bad my interweb addiction was in full swing back then. I could have used a site like Mamasource to meet new people.

Um okay, so back then I wasn't a mom yet. Or even married. But still, meeting people in my area? Awesome.

Mamasource is "a safe and easy way to connect with other moms in your local area". I've been using it for about a month now. I receive a daily e-mail with questions and comments from other moms near me. I've responded to people with questions about breastfeeding and sleeping issues. You know, the things I'm an expert about.

When I asked for suggestions for new kid friendly restaurants near where we live I received a few responses of places we've never tried. Heck, I hadn't even thought of those place before. It was good to hear from other moms who had been there and liked it. I like anything were food is a topic of conversation.

The only downside to this seems to be that most of the moms online at mamasource are located out in the 'burbs and not really in the downtown area of Seattle like I am. That may just be because the cold hard facts are that people with kids tend to live out in the 'burbs. Boo-hoo for me and Babboo.

So while I don't think I'll be meeting any new best friends on mamasource, I'll definitely continue to use it for any advice I may be in need of. And you know I'll continue to respond to all questions pertaining to areas of my expertise.

Today I Threw Away Chocolate

2007-06-15T13:36:00.000-07:00

I can honestly say I've never thrown away a half-eaten chocolate bar. Ever. But this one? Blech.

Let me just say: I'm not opposed to chocolate bars containing seemingly odd ingredients, such as this one, but overall, my mouth revolted & I had to chuck it.

Usually my mouth and mind still need the chocolate and can focus on the chocolately goodness over the offending ingredients (bad almonds or too many hazelnuts -- I'm talking to you Ritter Sport-- easy on the hazelnuts).

The only other time I chucked something chocolatey after one bite happened, well, because it wasn't chocolate.

Oh no, it was bean curd.

How did I make sure a monumental mistake? Well, for one: I can't read Japanese; and two: I was most definitely suffering the beginnings of heat stroke (Japanese humidity is an Oppressive Beyotcha).

So as I trudged along the atsui & mushiatsui streets of Kyoto and realized if I didn't happen upon some Pocari Sweat or Aquarius soon, I'd shrivel up and die in the streets (albeit very clean streets) of Kyoto. In a little grocery store, I find what I assumed were little pastries filled with chocolate. Oh no. They were doughy little bean curd filled imposters. Oh sweet J, did I chuck those, too.

I'm pretty sure at that point I stumbled onto a Shinto shrine tucked between some modern buildings and prayed for a McDonald's.

And that, dear friends, had nothing to do with my initial post subject.

The end.

Mr. Miyagi Would Be Proud

2007-06-11T07:06:00.001-07:00

Damn did I show that piece of wood who was BOSS!

This weekend, the Squirrel family headed down to the nearby depressed town to show off my terribly fitting capris and participate in the annual Strawberry Festival. And by participate, I do mean mock really bad folk bands, bitch and moan about the horse shit piled in the street and the lack of STRAWBERRIES (not a one. WTF?) and partake in some serious wood choppin', of the hand variety.

I've never done that before (put the smackdown on a piece of wood/karate chop/summon my inner Danielson). I honestly didn't think I could do it, but the supportive chap here dressed in white (whew, it's past Memorial Day) convinced me that "kids can do it." Oh, I guess if kids jumped off of a bridge, I could, too. Nice argument, Matlock.

But with Jojo and Mr. Squirrel egging me on, and Mr. Squirrel already whipping out the camera for future embarrassment purposes, I followed the one tip (hit it with the fleshy part of your fist). Yes, they called my hand 'fleshy' and 'fat.' I'm still bitter.

But I channeled all of my bitterness towards the wood and WAX ON WAX OFF I kicked its splintery little butt. Whew. I also scored a congratulatory certificate praising my "speed, power, focus and 'YES I CAN' attitude" which is currently at the frame shop getting matted.

Is it me, or is that girl hating on my capris?

My First Video

2007-06-10T19:55:00.000-07:00

Hi. See below my first video posting of Jojo. Isn't it cute? oh that's right. I can't flipping figure out how to flipping upload the g.d. video from Vimeo. I've been sitting here, writing different posts for both blogs, failing at getting my video from Vimeo here. Or even at the other blog. Anywhere. But no. I also can't seem to upload any blasted pictures either. So there.

Ahhh but look. I didn't swear. But a once.

I guess this whole (new) trying not to swear thing is working.

My first Jell-O dessert?

2007-06-07T07:01:00.000-07:00

I know some people may find it hard to believe, but I've never made a Jell-O dessert before.

Never.

That all changed last night when I decided to put together a little something for The King and I have eat with our (homemade) enchiladas. I found a recipe for some sort of raspberry Jell-o yumminess that sounded easy and delicious. Good thing I just happened to have the correct ingredients on hand.

The recipe seemed a little fattening, so I made the necessary changes to make me feel better about eating it. The recipe called for 3/4 cup of butter. I used 1/4 cup and 2 1/2 cup of (broken) stick pretzels. Bake for 10 minutes at 400 degrees. It will look like this when that part is done:

Then you take a cube of cream cheese (I used fat free) and a tub of Cool-Whip (again, I used fat free) and mix them together. The recipe called for 1 cup of sugar to be added. But that just seemed like a lot, so I only added 1/2 cup. (If I were to make it again, I would skip the sugar all together, FYI.)

Next you put the mixture on top of the pretzels and spread it out. Yummy. It now needs to set up a little bit. The recipe said to put it in the fridge for an hour. But since I wanted to eat it NOW, I put it in the freezer.

While it was setting up, I boiled 2 cups of water and added it to a box of (sugar free) raspberry Jell-O mix.

Then I put that in the freezer to give it time to set up to a "syrupy consistency". Once it seemed "syrupy" I added a bag of frozen raspberries (I'm sure any frozen fruit would work) to the bowl along with a can of crushed pineapples (with the juice) and mixed them all together. The recipe called for two bags of fruit, but a bag is like $3.50 and I didn't want to spend more then that on two bags. So out of cheapness, we went with one bag.

And then I ate the entire bowl of fruit topping and went to bed. Alone.

Of course not. But that's what I wanted to do. The fruit looked so fruity and bright. I added the fruit topping to the top of the pretzel mix and put it in the fridge to set up some more. The recipe said to let it set up over night.

Over night? But my enchiladas will be done in 15 minutes? Crap. One more reason why I should read all of the recipe BEFORE I start it. Apparently Jell-O talks a long time to set up. I did not know this.

Ken just laughed at me. I mean come on, everybody knows that Jell-O takes a long time to set up. You have to have known this. Come on.

Yeah, I didn't know this.

I waited about 30 minutes and then ate it anyway. It seemed plenty set up to me. And damn, this Jell-O dessert was about the bestest thing ever that I've made. It was so tasty.

I think it helped me enjoy it knowing that it wasn't as bad for me as it could have been. And while it maybe didn't look as good as you would think, it was amazing.

I told The King to try some, but he was busy watching TV. Finally he tried it and agreed that it was very, very tasty.

I'm happy to report that this New Thing was a hit.

I beg you to try this. And then return and report.

-------------------------

(Do you want the recipe typed up? I will type up the REAL recipe, and also let you know what I did. Okay...here you go.)

Raspberry Goodness

3/4 C butter (I used 1/4 C)
2 1/2 C stick pretzels (broken in half)

Combine and bake for 10 minutes at 400 degrees.

Box of cream cheese (I used FF)
Tub of Cool-Whip (I used FF)
1 C sugar (I used 1/2, but wouldn't use any next time)

Combine and spread on top of pretzels

1 pack of Raspberry Jell-O (I used sugar free)
2 C boiling water

Let set up to a consistency of syrup. Add:

2 bags of frozen berries (I only used 1 bag)
1 can crushed pineapple, undrained

Add fruit topping to top of pretzels mix. Put in fridge and let set up over night. (Or just 30 minutes. You know, whatever works for you.)