{ Oh HELLO Baby }

The Midge Reveal... Part 2: Hudson's Room

2009-11-08T14:39:00.003-06:00

Hmm...what could this light and colorful place of a room be?
Let's take a gander.

Judging by the passed-out toddler in that crib, this must be the man of the house's lair.

Indeed, it is.
The little ~~poophead~~ darling has a reading and play nook, which somehow ends up in the yet-to-be-revealed living room more often than not.

Sleeping/changing. Love this crib.

The mobile has origami fishies.

For those curious about Mona, it is a screenprinted poster--way cooler than your average glossy poster.

The end.

See the set on flickr here.

Our new mutt

2009-10-28T21:56:00.004-05:00

Apples or oranges? Cats or dogs? I'm not a big fan of fruit or pets at this point in time.
However, I've been thinking about the furry friends lately. Before I even conceived a child my mom has been threatening to buy my kid a puppy. Why? Well, back in the day I spent 400 of my ~~hard~~ unearned savings to buy an overgrown chihuahua puppy from a store in the mall. I downright staged a protest in the middle of the mall to get that thing. He was like the opposite of the runt of the litter, but that look was heartwrenching. That protest to get him was where my efforts stopped in regards to Chichi. I took him out when I felt like it, and he had free reign to mark the house the rest of the time.

The dog was so nuts that he would attack strangers as they left, rather than when they came in. Needless to say, my mom wasn't pleased that the obnoxiously crazy dog was hers to take out at 6 a.m. in the middle of Midwestern winters.

We had a cat, beloved Boots, who lived to a ripe old age with much less fuss. I do think I'm more of a cat person. Felines have an heir of snob about them and generally keep to themselves unless they're complaining or want something. In comparison to the needy and hyperactive canines, cats are relatively easy. That's totally my style.
{ Don't read too much into the "easy" part, mkay? }

Anyhoo, bless her heart my mom did get Hudson a dog this past weekend or so, and I tell ya what--I love the sucker. I've had my eyes on this very dog for four whole years. Four.

Just have a look-see at this magnificent creature. He (or she?) is excellent with Hudson, is by far the easiest pet you will come across, and oh that beautiful, lustrous coat.

Ta-dah!!

He/she is still unnamed, but surely something will come to me before the lug expires or gets stolen. Don't let the charming good looks fool you...

...it bites!

This, my two blog readers, is where cats fail. They just can't guard an adorable little cottage the way a 150-lb pink bulldog statue can. Thank you, freaking thank you, Grandma, for either being a) forgetful or b) not nearly as vengeful as I had come to believe.

When does this start? Already?!

2009-10-23T06:13:00.006-05:00

My darling dear Hudson has strucken a fancy with the female gender--so much so that a good clean trip to the punkin' patch was overshadowed by a 16-month-old's crush. You see, after a rousing day of errands in the bigger town next to us (home of a Wal-Marts!), we stopped at a sandwich shop where Hudson laid eyes on his very first crush. I don't blame the kid--those pigtails and stuffed animal she was carrying were just too precious. Needless to say, Hudson smeared a few spoonfuls of his yogurt everywhere (bumbling fool) and didn't touch his food until she left the premises. Poor fella.

Then we had to make the trip to the patch--mommy had her camera with, afterall. And what.do.you.know. There she was, a family heir to the great patch itself. Hudson was only temporarily sidetracked from the beauty by the assortment of wagons to ~~haul pumpkins~~ push around to impress the ladies.

Is she looking at me?

How 'bout now?

All in all, my little charmer had a good outing....
it's just Mommy who isn't ready for this.

2009-10-11T08:18:00.001-05:00

Hudson is holding Mommy's phone when she gets a text message. The phone is on vibrate.
Mommy: "What does it say, big man?"
Hudson: " vvvvvvvvv"

{ Fresh Photo Friday }

2009-10-02T05:00:00.001-05:00

Coming Home

2009-09-29T21:37:00.003-05:00

'Tis the season of changing colors, crisper air, and snotty noses from fluctuating temperatures and back-to-school. The air smells different and your body takes notice of the shift in conditions. I feel more and more like cuddling and hibernating with soft things. My preference for bright cheery colors gives a little for more rusty, brown tones. Ah yes--autumn, aka fall to the Midwest.

Fall is the time for football season for those who care. If it weren't for cheerleading, I would be in the negative of that category. One of the exciting peaks of nonprofessional football season is homecoming. Last Friday was my high school's homecoming, and since Hudson and I are actually back in town we joined a bit of the festivities. Ladies and gentlemen, Hudson attended his first real football game.

The ham ate it up of course, recognizing some of his favorite people and getting them to hold him the whole time. In fact, he persuaded one lady to steal popcorn for him. Mind you, he still isn't talking much. Sure, he let out more than a few charming "uh ohs," "see!s," and "ball!" (with point), but this level of control of grown adults is just amusing.

It was a real flashback of sorts for me as the craziness of getting Hudson prepared for the outing after a long day of work reminded me of the hours I would spend perfecting my hair, nails, etc. etc. etc. before a Friday night. I had cheerleading stuff to worry about in addition to the even more important after-plans. Oh high school, sometimes you weren't so bad.

Although high school really wasn't too far off for me, it was the first game I had attended since graduating. Next weekend Hudson and I are making the trek down south to attend the homecoming of a school I attended not so long ago. It has only been since May that we were in the college town last, but it feels longer. Hudson seems like such a bigger kid since we left, and I can only imagine the reactions of our dear ol' pals there when they take a gander at him.

Last year, when we lived with Aunties Val and Allie, Hudson and I would come home to the apartment from a long weekend in the tall corn state to gushing roomies about how much bigger he looked.
They're going to flip.

Val is traveling northward from grad school in Florida to crown the new homecoming queen. Maybe I will get to see this event as last year I was tending to a certain little guy's needs in the women's restroom while Val had one of the most exciting moments of her life. Ahem, Stinker.

One of the best new developments is "The Look." It's hard to describe, but you know it when you see it. A gesture he surely didn't pick up from me (ha), Hud will scrunch his eyebrows down, give his head a good downward tilt and frown in your direction when he's either A) not impressed by your unwillingness to do what he wants or B) doing something that warrants you giving him "The Look." For example, prime "Look" times include you remaining seated when he is trying to pull your body across the room to fetch something for him, or when he's dumping cereal all over the floor and stepping on it.
Not that my darling would ever do such things.

Motherhood and a quickly growing little boy definitely make looking backward a bit more sentimental. Although memories aren't always rosy of times past, fall is the perfect season for reminiscing and catching a good whiff of nostalgia in the cool, crisp air.

The Midge Reveal... Part 1: Kitsch-en

2009-09-13T14:53:00.003-05:00

Because I can only keep one room clean at a time.
Because I only have time to upload a smattering of photos at a time.
And because this room is partly presentable, I give you....
The midge kitchen before and after!

Take a look-see on Flickr here.
Look foward to a few more rooms this week. Feel free to note, comment, ask questions, boo, etc.

Befoorreeee...

{ Fresh Photo Friday } Shooting Babies

2009-09-11T18:12:00.004-05:00

teehee, I'm not REALLY shooting babies

fine, so he's not a baby anymore, but he's still pretty stinkin' little...
...and cute. I may or may not have digitally removed some snot from this photo.

lil miss emerie ella

the newest addition, bailey ann

some "awww" for your Friday and 9/11.

I'm distressed

2009-09-05T21:23:00.000-05:00

"Yeah those dimples on my butt are totally on purpose."

As I'm, uh, STILL @!+#?&/ fixing up Midge, it has got me thinking about home renovations and the insanity that comes with home ownership. (even though I didn't buy the old girl)
Home decor is a stressful issue to many. The trends of home decor are always in flux, like a slightly slower season of couture fashion.

Everyone has their "I would nevers..." especially with fashion. For example, I will never wear high waisted tapered leg mom jeans. With home design, there are even more for me. I will never intentionally place fake wood paneling on my walls. I will never be a victim of the beige-and-tan and everything neutral craze. Face it people, your "neutral and warm" tones of brownish gray are the next decade's boring version harvest gold and avocado greens of the 70s.

One of my "faves" is the incessant proliferation of distressed furniture and furnishing. People have taken chains and hammers to their coffee tables in effort to look "rustic." you're not fooling anyone. Your veneered Laura Ashley end table isn't passing for a charming antique. And filling your living room with "shabby chic" beaten-up wares just makes it look like you let Hudson loose with an assortment of cleavers and hammers.
Now, don't get me wrong; real, genuinely worn antiques and heirlooms are absolultely cool. They actually have character and are fascinating. A faux piece painstakingly worn in just the right spots by a factory worker in India? I'm just sayin' you might be laughing at that here in a few.

The best part is, the people who lament about the teenagers wasting money on hole-y jeans are the same people shelling out beacoup bucks on distressed cabinetry. At least those $30 pair of Levi's won't have to be reluctantly inherited by the next inhabitant.

I live in a chateau with plenty of bona fide distressed features. Good news is, I'm not one of them. I completely dig the "character" and "charm" that previously loved items carry--and that avacado green fridge is even better the second time around.

Latest development

2009-08-31T21:48:00.001-05:00

Hudson, walking awkwardly after quite a rumble down under...

Mommy: "Did you go potty?"

Shakes head yes and grins.

Mommy: "Should we change your diaper?"

Shakes head no and grins wider, runs off.

Oh.stinkin.no. This means potty training is drawing evermore near.
*runs off*

A relaxing gourmet meal at the grandparents' with a fine young chap

2009-08-27T21:30:00.002-05:00

...such manners and grace.

Not hereditary.

I didn't make this stuff up...

2009-08-23T12:24:00.002-05:00

This, no lie, arrived in my Facebook mailbox the other day. She shall remain nameless, but the perfect combination of nice things + greater relief of mom-guilt is the bomb.com.

"Every once in a while when I am bored I read your blog because it is very entertaining and I like the tips you give on saving the environment. In fact, I am convinced (thanks to you) that if I ever have a child, I am going to use cloth diapers! Anyhow, I saw your new blog about the frozen dinner and I wanted to tell you, my father-in-law runs the plant where they produce the trays for those meals, and it's only a forty minute drive from Iowa, AND HE MAKES EVERYONE THERE AT THE PLANT RECYCLE! And they have switched to green cleaning products! So don't feel so bad!! I just wanted to throw in my two cents! Hope you and Hudson are doing well!"

Ahh, it feels so good.

Thanks a ton girlie!!

Local Cuisine

2009-08-17T19:39:00.002-05:00

I hate the stereotype, but let's face it. I'm the stereotypical hippie/eco/blogging mom. In a very attractive package, I must say.
Ahem.

However, since I've moved back with the less hippie/eco/blogging grandparents, I have become lax in my ways in a variety of areas. Will you believe that I haven't recycled a single thing since mid-June? Okay, that's definitely not true, but it's pretty close. There isn't a designated recycling bin here. No joke. My blood pressure is surely at least a gazillion points higher with that fact alone.

I pride myself on sourcing local food for the Hud-man and myself. Organic, when possible, but according to my years of research local trumps organic by a sheer smidge. Food systems are an important issue, mmkay? (Here is where you nod in agreement.) Our fridge and cabinets are normally stocked with items such as this:

locally produced milk.

Anyhoo, this whole new, full-time big girl job thing I have ~~complained about~~ mentioned? Yeah, it has put a major crimp in my hippie mom ways. The local farmers market is Mondays from 4-6. Do you know what time I return to our handsome villa from aforementioned ~~life sucking employment~~ job? Yep, 6 p.m. We have been void of actual fresh produce for like, three weeks now. THREE WEEKS.

Excuse me. I get a little excited about these things.

But you know what? I recently did this one thing that makes me especially not so proud about my saving-the-world efforts. I purchased this

with the full intention of feeding it to my oh-so-adorable and pesticide-free toddler. In fact, I purchased FOUR since they were on sale.
Sobsobsobsobsob. OHHH the MOM GUILT!

Oh right--I'm still going to feed them to him. Why, you ask? Why would I even dare to microwave pesticide and hormone-laden, mechanically-separated meat and genetically-mutilated, flavorless, nutrient-deficient excuses for vegetables in addition to an obesity-causing, high fructose corn syrup-filled dessert in an endocrine-disrupting and environment-flushing plastic tray? Cuz I feel like it, that's why.

Or more accurately, I don't feel like it. I'm giving myself a tiny break from the extra stressors of chemical-reduced living in order to adjust to my new schedule and decreased lounging time. The last thing I want to do when I get home from my zombifying commute is chop veggies and wait for water to boil.
I'm not saying it's Swanson and Banquet from here on out, but the thought of a quick meal from the freezer won't send me into hyperventilation.

I have, however, found one uplifting aspect of this whole Kid Cuisine mini-ordeal: I have a friend in Missouri who used to work in a factory that stamped those (endocrine-disrupting) plastic trays. Which meeaaaannnns:

LOCAL FOOD!

Question my logic, I dare ya.

Hectic Relief

2009-08-08T18:44:00.002-05:00

I suffered through my first week at the new job. Okay, that was a bit dramatic, there was very little suffering involved. And to be truthful, I don't hate it nearly as much as I had anticipated. Your co-workers really do make a difference. I went in with the mindset that this was not at all what I wanted to be doing and it was just a waste of my talents...and it still probably is, but it is a tolerable waste that is absolutely necessary, financially.

I started with a few other recent college grads, all with bachelors degrees in unrelated fields--take health/fitness and international relations for example. There is even a young single mom in the group. It's amazing how much relief you feel when you realize that others are in the same boat and can relate to your shattered dreams.

Again with the overdramatic statements. You're welcome.

Starting a new job isn't all decorating-your-cubicle and having-a-new-title. Its surely harder than it looks or harder than people remember. Or something like that. For one, just finding the right parking spot and the right door is discombobulating. Then you have to mess with security (or be messed with by security) and figure out how to operate the doors. These suckers can spit you back out if they so choose. For real.

Then there's the name and clique learning, who to fear, and who to befriend. Where are the bathrooms? And why are there showers?

Oh, and then there's a whole new connnfusing computer program and procedure. Y'know, that whole "training" part of a new job. Whatev.

But by far the hardest part is leaving Hudson at daycare everyday, all day. Where is the time I had to just sit and watch him get into stuff? Our cuddle time has been drastically reduced, thanks to my crack-o-dawn schedule. Like his mom, he doesn't take kindly to being woken up. However, he has BEATEN ME UP almost every morning, in both senses of the phrase. He is definitely getting rowdier by the day. I admit to crying a couple times after leaving daycare in the morning--it is heartwrenching to have a childcare worker pry your screaming toddler from your arms so that you can be 60 miles away on a computer all day.

All this, and guess what--thank GOODNESS I have a job. Many aren't so lucky. The job search is so discouraging, I'm just thrilled to have been chosen for something. I don't think my self esteem could have taken much more. I rock.

Drum roll please...

2009-07-29T19:03:00.003-05:00

I got a job.
And I'm not excited about.
What's wrong with this picture? Oh yes, 'tis the little man I will miss so very much. As it looks, this mind numbing temp-to-hire job will have me working 40+ hours a week, plus mandatory overtime on Saturdays. My man, my numero uno, will be spending 11 hours at daycare per day.
If that doesn't make you cry, you clearly aren't his mother.

Why so long, you say? Well, I have an hour commute. If I don't end up with 30 speeding tickets getting home to my boy it's because the cops looked the other way. The really sad part is that this place isn't anywhere I see myself even wanting "my foot in the door." Financial services and the like aren't my cup of tea. But ya know what? I will make a few ends meet and that counts for something. Right? Even if I'm miserable, missing my boy, and asleep at the wheel?

Perhaps I'm looking at this from the wrong angle. Regardless, I start Monday.

In other, EVEN MORE exciting news, I have launched my Etsy space: HERE.
I have plans to list even more goods in the near future. If I sell all my vintage stuff, I can begin work on my handmade goodies.

Question is, where will I find the time now?

Just have to put it out there...

2009-07-26T23:42:00.003-05:00

I need to get something off my itty bitty chest. While we're still in the process of cleansing Midge of all of the tragedy she has dealt with, I thought it would be a good time to air out her wounds and cleanse emotionally... by letting all of the internets gasp at my new residence. It's going to be a while before we actually move in.

I would like to start off with the most splendid of Midge's features. This, my friends, is the W.C. Very much closet-like, as the doorway is just shy of a comfortable height. This is the main impediment to progress, as we are waiting for a floor in this spacious room. You will be relieved to know that the toilet is new. The rest...not so much.

Because I love you and do not want you to experience the most horrific of nightmares in the next few nights, I am sparing you the view of the shower. You will SO thank me later. Also, be thankful that smell-o-net is no where near the immediate future.

Next on Midge's preview debut is BY FAR the most enjoyable of quirks. Midge came with attitude--and a damn good sense of humor. In line with the rest of the place, the sink was a nasty sight. You couldn't even fight the urge to attempt to rinse the nastiness away, or at least check to see if the water was on. Naturally, you turn the water on high to do this. However...look closely.

Midge had a built-in fountain that would moisten your shirt in a spectacular way if the water pressure was high enough. Her sprayer has since been replaced and my best practical joke ruined.

But then there was this...

Don't let the male gender know, but flowers really do have a strange ability to make you forgive and forget. Even when the front part of you is drenched with sulfurous tap water.

{ Oh HEY Look }

2009-07-24T11:10:00.004-05:00

A new header! You know what that means.

Not much.

However, since I'm indecisive, the tagline (currently "because we're awesome") will change periodically at my whim, further confusing the masses. Ha.

Some exciting things have been happening 'round these parts, and I'm exciting to fill you in here soon. I have amassed a startling backlog of photos, which I have partly uploaded to facebook for those who are my bffs--all 677 of 'em. For those who are still on the friendly acquaintence and stalker list, they should be hitting flickr today.

The gist of my life is this:
no job.
still not living at my dear Midge.

You're on the edge of your office chair, aren't you?

Summer Pasta Picnic Salad Pasta Picnic Summer Salad Good outdoor eatin'

2009-07-15T17:03:00.012-05:00

I hate winter. So much so that I still complain about it in the summer. Its gloomy, isolating, quiet, and bone chillingly cold. It doesn't help that I've never had a tremendous amount of "insulation." When spring rolls around I'm a whole new person; I smile at people on the street and am thrilled to leave the house. When summer rolls around, I revel in the season in which laziness is a celebrated quality. Being unemployed has definitely added to my allotted lazy time this year.
Now I finally have a constant companion for the joys of summer--the beach, the pool, golfing, the park, and the ultimate in summer dining:

the picnic.
One inspired and sunny day, I decided a cold pasta salad was in order. Armed with farmers market produce and some free time via Hudson's nap, I threw in some random ingredients and whipped up this:

what I'm calling Summer Picnic Pasta Salad...or Summer Pasta Picnic Salad...or Pasta Picnic Summer Salad...
this is why I don't make recipes. I also didn't measure anything, but I'll surely tell you what's in it.
The secret is, it's best stirred by a tiny yet chubby hand. In vintage Pyrex.

Okay here we go:
Boil some Penne pasta--I like the Omega-3 or Whole Wheat kinds because I'm a hippy. Go with what you feel.
Roast some asparagus in olive oil.
Chop up some green onions and the asparagus. I like only the top two or three cuts from asparagus because I'm picky. Nicky.
The saucy/wet stuff: olive oil, a squirt of honey mustard, some 100% orange juice, a bit of basil, and perhaps some parsley all whisked into a fantastical vinaigrette.
Toss it all together plus some Romano (or possibly some Farmer or Havarti or Fillintheblank) cheese.
Chill in the chillerator til it's chilled to your chilliking. Or eat at room temperature. You're free to decide.

You. must. eat. this. outdoors. Take a blanket, find a table, or use a tailgate. Just enjoy the breeze, the birds, and yes--the bugs. Also absolutely necessary? Run around like a banshee and do a happy dance afterward.

Because this is what non-winter is all about.

Twirl your groove thang

2009-07-14T08:40:00.000-05:00

Let's just say that someone is coming in to his inherited dance abilities.

And that's all I have to say about that.

There ain't no bugs on me...

2009-07-12T10:01:00.008-05:00

Many great minds are arguing that kids these days don't get enough unstructured outdoor playtime. Kids are supposed to be out climbing trees and eating wild berries, but somewhere along the line parents' fears have taken over. Instead, we're all cooped up inside, completely disconnected from where our food comes from and why it matters to keep habitats intact.
We need to give kids more opportunity to do their own thing and get bitten along the way. However, I'm not saying you shouldn't help them identify poison ivy when given the chance.

Encourage your kids to be adventurous, like these kids ~~terrorizing~~ exploring the wildlife of the the great outdoors.

Pry your kids away from the screens and eschew fears of poison plants and vicious plague-spreading insects.

Just look how much fun Hudson is having frolicking in the grass.

Oh wait, what's that behind his ear, you ask? Let's take a closer look.

Hmm, appears to be a bug...

%$@!*&^
Oh yes, that, my friends is an Ixodes scapularis, more commonly known as a tick. Right there on my baby's head.

Funny thing is, I didn't notice until the thing had attached itself to his cheek. A pause for flashbacks to an outdoor ecology lesson that had me fighting ticks like Mike Tyson and we were outta there. Being a camp counselor gave me the experience necessary to remove said tick without a panic. Many thanks, Wildwood.

Good news is Hudson wasn't bothered a bit, and it appears Lyme disease hasn't set in--as it is pretty unlikely to do. Many more outdoor play sessions and terrorizing of wildlife ahead, just maybe with some natural bug repellent.

Our day at the air show

2009-07-05T20:01:00.006-05:00

When we lived in Missouri we lived 10 minutes away from an Air Force base--home of the B2 bomber "2B" exact. We also lived with the worlds greatest female aviator, well as far as I know. This means that I was immersed in more aviation geekery than I ever hoped for...which really isn't very much.

One day at the beginning of June, Hudson and I were planning on going to the botanical gardens when Roomie Allie swooped in with a suggestion.
"I think Hudson should go to his first air show."
(as if there would be many more)

I rolled my eyes, of course, but along we went. After over an hour and a half in traffic (unheard of 'round those parts), we arrived inside the walls of the base. A fun scan by some Air Force peeps with guns, and we were in.

To be truthful, it wasn't just Hudson's first air show; it was mine too. For those who don't know (or care), different types of crazy planes fly in from all over to park and look pretty. Much like a pageant for airplanes I suppose. Some planes are super special and are on the schedule of events to perform. Did you know Jelly Belly jelly beans has a stunt plane? Now you do. Stunt planes from all over were there to do stuff you never ever want to think about when you're flying cross country.

In fact, as we arrived a WWII plane was having landing gear issues and had to make an emergency landing. Who said an air show couldn't be exciting, eh?

Anyhoo, we walked around and looked at the pretties (air force pilots in flight suits) and some planes too. Did I mention it was the windiest day EV-ER? Allie knew a little something about these planes. I still don't.

We saw the big kahuna

Ooh, a guy in uniform with a gun.

I mean, look! Missiles!
and some "smaller" big kahunas as well.

And just some crazies in general.

In fact, I have no clue which way these photos are supposed to be oriented.

We learned so much that day. Mostly that Hudson is terrified of loud noises, such as those made by various airplanes in the sky. We had to bail early since the big guns were slated for later in the afternoon. All in all, it was a great experience--just a little windy and noisy. It appears that Allie's dream of turning Hudson into a pilot are a little far off but not hopeless.

Thanks, Wings Over Whiteman, for being slightly more interesting than the botanical gardens.

A sneak peek at the old girl

2009-07-04T14:48:00.006-05:00

So a lot of work has been done to Midge-y poo in preparation for Huddy Buddy and I's move-in date. Ignoring the fact that I still don't have a bathroom floor (but will be getting CARPET in the bathroom soon..wtf?) and it still smells like a musty old camper, I have a clearer vision of the cute little cottage she was meant to be. Unfortunately, my limited funds will not allow me to do much to the old girl, but using your imagination is fun, right?
On that note, I thought I would give you a preview of a few things going on at the chateau as of late.

Kitchen curtain, anyone? The background turquoise is reminiscent of an accent wall color in the living room. The green of the pear is reminiscent of the "Sweet Olive" shade of half the kitchen. The tan is reminiscent of my counter top and terribly unfortunate apartment-size gas stove. The yellow, my gorgeous 1950s Formica dining table. The fabric is called Scandinavian Kitchen--and whaddaya know, I'm Scandinavian! If only she were blonde.

No, I don't overthink design choices, I don't know what you're talking about. Moving on...

Hudson's curtain.

Vintage fabric for my room.

These may have something to do with the living room and kitchen curtains...
Can't forget my obsession with these. Heavily-painted cabinet hardware may or may not have been removed in the effort to suitably display my growing ~~neurosis~~ collection.

I can only imagine the mental picture you must have. Truth be told, I'm a little fearful myself. As soon as I retrieve my computer from the ~~robbers~~ computer repair folks or buy an SD card reader, I will further illuminate you with the progress of my "dream" home.

You're on the edge of your seat, I know.

{ Visit ApartmentTherapy.com for an idea of my quirky design style if this is really offending your home interior sensibilities. }

In short, I would like my laptop back. And maybe some stability in general.

2009-06-28T17:09:00.003-05:00

Due to technical difficulties and logistical challenges, I'm typing this on my smartphone. My laptop is having issues-procrastinateable issues because I'm at my parents' house with my mom's laptop. However, mine holds extremely precious photos of Hudson's first year of life on Planet Earth and such (that I was going to backup on discs this week) that I will need eventually. My laptop also has an SD card reader-the only current way I can get photos from my camera to my computer--and what fun is a blog post without pictures? (see previous post for a boring example). My boy is gorgeous and you simply must see.

More about Midge. I have acquired a (green) fridge in addition to a washer and dryer. Hooray for appliances! However, my bathroom still doesn't have a floor and the shower is unbelievably nasty. Trust me on this. AND even after some hot and heavy work with the carpet cleaner, the kitchen floor is still ridiculous. I don't even want to think of what caused such an atrocity.

It really is killing me to not have an easy way to upload photos. Today, for example, Huddy Buddy and I enjoyed a picnic in the perfect Iowa weather. And--get this--the kid is still gorgeous! You would have loved to see. In addition, I have acquired even more vintage Pyrex and Fire King that I just know all of the ~~nerds~~ folks with refined taste that read my blog (maybe one, every few months) will love.

In other news, Hudson says a few syllables that we take to have meaning. And, just a few days ago I got him to combine two goodies. "Hot" + "mama = "hot mama!" I love this talking stuff.
Fine, so it was a trick, but I'm just positive it came straight from the heart.
Just like this super deep post.

Chchchanges

2009-06-18T13:01:00.004-05:00

You guessed it, folks, it's time for a bullet post.

Hey. Y'know what? We moved. Sure did. Hudson and I are now back to my home state, north of Missoura aka Misery.
We may or may not be moving into Midge. The uncertainty comes from the sheer nastiness that is Midge's interior. I will be painting and cleaning as much as I possibly can in the next few weeks in order to make it habitable for the little man and I.
Hudson has been spending a lot of time with Grandma and Grandpa lately so that I can work on Midge. I can't tell you how great it is to have the nanny service. Hudson would be eating a whole heckuvalotta dead bugs (and possibly live ones too) if he had to hang out there for very long.
I will surely post pictures of Midge's interior...as soon as it's fixed up. At it's present state, someone will call family services to ensure that Hudson will not be subjected to the horror.
I'm still unemployed and perpetually working on cover letters and resume updates...when I find the time somewhere between getting a place to live and feeding and rearing my rambunctious toddler.
As you can imagine, it's a pretty hectic life when you're mid-move, still not unpacked, trying to find a job, daycare, set up doctors appointments, still have a life outside your immediate responsibilities, etc.
It kinda stinks waiting for things to fall into place. It will happen eventually, right? Right?
Things to look forward to when I come up for air and can craft a non-bulleted post: Hudson's trip to the airshow and his first encounter with the not-so-great-outdoors. With pictures.

End update. Over and out.

Bring on the rain

2009-06-08T21:21:00.010-05:00

Within the last few weeks, little Huddy Buddy's fears have developed. As evidenced by the balloon-o-doom, some things, even traditionally jolly things, have started to make the big fearless boy crawl back to his momma. The time has come that something in that oversized, barely-toddler brain of his has made the connection that some things just can't be trusted.

It was a warm June day in Missouri and the apartment was getting stuffy. I thought it would be great to release the monster and let him frolic on the deck. The catch? It was precipitating.

I admit that I was a bit curious to see just how wild the wild man would get in a mild summer shower. Clad only in his all-in-one cloth diaper, the little dude was in for his first playin'-in-the-rain experience. Here's how it went down.

Normally, the sound of the door knob turning sends Hudson wobbling toward the great outdoors, and this day was no different. However, as soon as I shut the door behind us...

he was a little apprehensive. He has seen rain before, no doubt, but never have I been so willing to let him freely explore the heavily condensated atmospheric water vapor. Sorry, I mean "wet stuff."

After giving a few quick glances between me and the rain, he was able to part himself from the door.
Where he started the stare-down phase of uncertainty.

So that stuff is coming outta the sky, and landing right abouts there on our deck. If I coordinate my movements approximately 915 millimeters south, that liquid precipitation will be in my peripersonal space.

Needing to examine it further, he cautiously inched toward a different viewpoint.

Once in my peripersonal space, there is a probability that my core body temperature could drop in response to the evaporation of cool H2O on my epidermis. In addition, my developing coordination, likened to a state of intoxication, puts me at risk for an ungraceful splash.

Then I saw it click. The "what the hell" came over him, if you will. Just. do it. baby.

I'm doing it I'm doing it I'm doing it I'm doing it

He kept going.

I'm still doing it I'm still doing it I'm still doing it

And he liked it.

Quite pleasing to the senses, if I do say so myself.

He was splashing around in the tiny puddles in no time at all, like a newly-minted one-year-old should.

Baby luv da wain.

Hudson showed me that he isn't turning into a big sissy face, just getting more diligent about weighing his options first. It just so happens that cuddling with Mommy is a pretty darn good option sometimes. Verdict: playing in the rain rules.