she sleeps

And a peace fell over the land.

And the people were happy.

I went to see Hans to get rid of my hag hair and to hear the gossip. Hans is a show in and of himself. He told me I need a staff.

Should I be offended by that?

He told me all kinds of juicy little tidbits about his ex-wife and about opening day at the Del Mar Race Track. He told me about all the different hats the women wore and the linen suits the men wore. He described what a mint julep tastes like.

I told him about the baby barf and described what it's like to eat your lunch while you water the plants and scoop the dog poop in the yard before the baby wakes up and the barfing starts anew.

That's when he said I need a staff.

People- my staff has arrived.

Rosie recently graduated with a degree in Human Performance and she fled the state of Utah for the balmy San Diego climate. She moved in with us until she finds a job and her own place. She is personal trainer, cook, childcare and girlfriend all wrapped into one.

She is my staff.

Do you think she would be offended if I introduced her as such?

bogged blog

Here's a question for ya.

Why is it that when mothers of young children wear skirts, said children love to lift up the skirt and expose things that mother's seldom want exposed?

I was waiting for my burrito at Rubio's and watching a little girl slowly push her mother's dress up until an entire hip was exposed. The mother was paying for her food and didn't notice.

I, of course, got a good laugh at this, because, well, it is funny as long as it isn't happening to me.

It reminded me of the time I was paying for books and I felt a draft only to discover that Thom's head was against the small of my back and he was holding up my skirt for all the world to see.

Thank heaven it was a book store and most people's noses were buried in their books because, I guarantee, with the kind of underwear I wear- it wasn't a pretty sight. These saddle bags have a few oats in them.

Here's another question:

Why is it that sticky baby fingers always find the tender hair at the nape of your neck?

And this:

Why is it that the baby always spits up in the few seconds before you put on a dry bib?

To be honest, I'm totally bogged down in parenthood right now. Birdie was diagnosed with acid reflux and the boy has a ragging case of End of Summer Obnoxiousitis. For me this means there is a whole lot of crying going on at my house and quite frankly it has lead me to ask myself another question.

Why is it I don't drink?

where's the love????

Haven't been around these parts lately and evidently neither has anyone else. That, or not that many of you liked my Spotty creations. Where's the love people?

Anyway- enough poor me crap.

The winners are:(and I would have picked these same people even if a thousand had entered)

Laura- the cuff must go to you because not only do you have a wrist that it will fit, you also deserve a reward for your irreverent, smart ass attitude and faithful readership.

Domestic Katie- you must have the brooch because you are just crazy enough to wear it to church and because I'm using this as a bribe to get you to come to SPARK!

lest you forget

I was thinking it is high time to remind all you loverly people that I make jewelry. Which is for sale. On Etsy.

Lest you forget that your purchases fund my rock and roll life style which these days has become a little more, well, hillbilly, I thought I'd remind you.

And I thought a little giveaway would help you remember.

So I made some stuff to give away on this here blog. See! I'm even talkin' hillbilly these days.

Save me from myself. Please.

Spot was always my favorite. Dick was, well, with a name like that, what do you expect. And Jane? She was a little trite for my liking.

But Spot- now that's a dog.

So I made some Spot stuff.


I will be picking a winner for the cuff bracelet and the hair piece, which doubles as a brooch, which triples as a super cute waist band flourish, on Monday. Leave one comment and tell me which item tickles your fancy and cross your fingers.

The cuff is on the small side so if you are big boned (and by that I don't mean fat) you may want to opt for the hair piece.

Good Luck!

and as long as we are talking dresses. . .

I was born to wear a Korean hanbok.

Why can't we American women adopt a more forgiving style? Think of all the rolls and flaws that could be hidden under a dress like this. The possibilities.

I'm gaga over these images from Korean Vogue. Would it be weird if I just started wearing a hanbok? Could I possibly start a fashion revolution?

Na. I'm only big in Asia.

I am thinking though, that Birdie might look smashing in a hanbok. She's way more chic than I am. I'm going to start work on a pattern. Her hanbok must have a bird embroidered on it.

So much to do, so little time.

seriously in love

I'm seriously, seriously in love with this Etsy shop. If only I had somewhere to wear one of these gowns. . . ahhhhh.....

Alas, my life is baby barf and random Lego pieces.

For everything there is a season. When I'm forty, I'm planning on really getting sexy.

the sentry

It was jealousy at first sight.

What, prey tell, was this person doing, coming into our house, stinking it up? And the noise! Oh the ear splitting noise! In the middle of the night for Pete's sake.

How could everyone be paying so much attention to this miniature person? She has no hair! And there I was with locks and locks of soft curly hair. And look at my eyes. Couldn't they see how sad I was? How forlorn?

Little by little things have changed. It may be defeat, however, we think it's much closer to acceptance.

He tries to lick her downy head, ever so slyly so as not to be detected. Just one lick as he passes by.

And he has become the nap centurion. Maybe it's the soothing Baby Einstein music that keeps him there, but we like to think that he has finally fallen in love.

zerrissentheit & apfelstrudel

In another life I think I might have become a lexicographer. I do love words and few things give me as much satisfaction as when I discover a new word that so precisely describes the inner works of my disheveled mind.

I ran across "zerrissentheit" the other day in a magazine. It is a German word that means "disjointedness, disunity, inner turmoil".

Lately, I feel like a circus performer juggling, balancing and sweating like crazy to keep up. I've got the motherhood ball which is by far the most important and also the most awkward to keep in sync with my jewelry business ball and my drive to create art ball. And then there is my church work ball and my housework ball.

Not to mention that my leotard is pinching into my chubby thighs and reminding me that I really need to be running everyday.

So I'm trying to juggle all of these balls. Keep them up in the air and look good doing it.

It's total zerrissentheit and not very eloquent.

There's another German word that I love. Gemütlichkeit. It means "a warm, comfortable, convivial atmosphere, coziness".

I was thinking the other day that I'm not one looking for perfection. I think we've established that. I know that my children won't remember that the house was perfectly clean on Christmas morning, but they will remember if their mother was happy.

What I really want is a little gemütlichkeit in my house. I want peace and quiet and happy children with rosy cheeks and full bellies. And if I am surrounded by great arts and crafts, that's gravy my friends, gravy.

Jo has an apple tree, which in and of itself is quaint and storybook, but it also gives apples. It's a giving tree. The apples are tart and crisp and perfect for baking.

I thought to myself, that if I have to face a life full of zerriseentheit, I might as well get a little gemütlichkeit in there to balance it out.

I set out to make some apfelstrudel for my little family.

Then I realized just how much work the dough is to make and I thought- crap. All I need is more big project.

So I decided to whip up a batch of cinnamon rolls and add in little chunks of Jo's tart little apples. I also added some walnuts, currants and brown sugar oh my! Obliviously the pinching leotard wasn't bothering me that much.

Sometimes it's the littlest things that bring gemütlichkeit to your life.

The smell of warm cinnamon rolls wafting through the house.

The hound dog curled up on the kitchen rug.

The sound of your parents laughing together.

Your son smiling up at you with frosting on his lips when he tells you that your are the world's best mom.

I'll be the poster girl for a zerrissentheit life for the rest of my life if only I can have moments like these.

fancy pants

Last night after Sugar Daddy came home and rescued me from the two screaming mimis, I carved this stamp.

Is it perfect?

Exactly who's blog is it that you think you're reading? Get real sister. I don't do anything perfect. And I like it that way. Or I like to say I like it that way because it makes me feel better about myself and things in general.

So no. It's not perfect.

But is it fancy?

Hell yes.

It's a fancy pants monogram stamp that I'm going to use to make some fancy pants cards.

Cuz' I'm just that fancy.

Pants.

Happy Friday.