*Sigh of Relief*

Looks like Handmade may be on its way to being saved after all!

My talented seamstress friend Kate informed me this evening that the Consumer Products Safety Commission has put the requirements to test children's products for lead and phthalates on hold for a year while they rewrite the laws. Whew.

(Here's a great article in Forbes if you're interested in the potential effects of this CPSIA law.)

Lovey Dovey clips may just make it to see another day!

No DNA Test Needed, Part II

Generally speaking, I have a hard time determining who my children look like. Ever since Riley was born everyone has said how much he looks like Gary. It's hard for me to see. I sometimes hear that Colin looks like me, but I don't see that either. Avery, I can admit, looks a lot like I did as a baby. Looking at my kids standing in front of me, it's hard for me to find resemblances, but when I look at photos it's a bit easier:

Can we just give a shout-out to the orthodontist at this point?
Worth every penny.

I guess I can see Gary here.

This is a picture of Gary with his sister Yvonne. I really see Colin in this picture:

Notice the embroidered little Dutch boy on Gary's shirt.
I really don't even know what to say.

Their mouths are identical.

And, finally, yours truly:

No, it's not an optical illusion, I have a rather large forehead.
Bangs are my friend.

I'm hopeful she won't have to be a slave to bangs like her mother.

I have come to the conclusion that all three children are, indeed, biologically ours and that no hospital mix-ups took place.

(Yesterday I thought there might be the possibility of a mix-up when Colin told me, "Mom, after I eat pepperoni and I burp, it smells really good." I thought, whose kid is this? Pictures don't lie. I guess I have to claim him after all.)

Right of Passage.

There was one particular stage in my sons' development that I have been anticipating with dread practically since they were born. (Actually, there are several that I'm dreading, but I'll keep my focus narrow for now.) I have always cringed at the thought of the day when they no longer want to use the ladies' public restroom with me, but prefer to go into the mens' alone.

This scares me.

(I think I've watched too many episodes of Dateline about some creep hiding inside the restroom.... I'm paranoid, what can I say.)

Well, that stage has arrived. Riley no longer wants to get within a five foot radius of the ladies' restroom. I guess I can't hardly blame him, he is seven years old. But my paranoia and fear erupt every time I think of him in a restroom alone.

So today, at Target, of course he needs to use the bathroom. We make it to the restroom and I tell him to go quickly and if anyone bugs him at all to scream bloody murder for me. Not 30 seconds after Riley went in, a very muscular man in his 60's that is covered in fading military tattoos walks in after him. When the man opens the door to the restroom I yell to Riley to come on and hurry up. Surely the man thought I was crazy.

Another 30 seconds later, a guy in his 30's with a long pony tail approaches the bathroom. I stared him down for a good five seconds, hoping that he caught the "if you so much as look at my son I will come in there and personally flush you down the toilet" vibe I was giving him.

A minute later, Riley emerges with a smile on his face. He said, "Mom, did you see the dude that came in the bathroom?" (I should back up and mention that, in Riley's mind, anyone who has long hair or wears his hat backwards is considered a 'dude'.) I said, "Yea, I saw him...why?" (Paranoia...creeping in....) Riley says, "I think he was a rapper."

Uh...huh?

I ask, "Really? What's a rapper?" He explains, "Oh, you know, a guy that's a dude that's cool who hangs out with other dudes."

Oh, of course!

We did see the dude once again walking through Target with his wife and three children. He gave me a look that clearly said "you're a psycho", while Riley gave him a look that said "you're a cool dude rapper".

I am now dreading the stage in Riley's development when he actually realizes what a dude and/or rapper really are.

Pop Quiz.

Question: What's the worst thing that can possibly happen at 5pm?


Answer: Impromptu nap.

Why: Because impromptu nap = mommy yelling "GO TO SLEEP!!" at 9 pm.

Effect: This makes mommy cranky.

Extra credit will be given to any reader who can cure pictured child of the thumb habit he is demonstrating in above photo.

Date Night!

Before Gary and I were married, our date of choice was almost always a movie. We were at the theater nearly every weekend. Of course, tickets were $5.50 back then, so it didn't hurt our wallets much. I blame my serious addiction to Junior Mints on those movie dates.

Once we had Riley, that all changed. (Not the Junior Mint addiction, though.) Until tonight, we hadn't been to a movie since we saw Wall*E back in May. Very sad. So tonight the kids are with my parents, and Gary and I went out to dinner and then to see Slumdog Millionaire. It's a movie about a boy that grew up in the slums of India who ended up being a contestant on the Indian version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. It is such a good movie. You need to see it. You will laugh, cry, and feel overwhelmingly thankful you, too, did not grow up in the slums of India. And, not wanting to give anything away, I'll just say that it has the best darn dance number at the end of the movie since Napoleon Dynamite's talent show performance. Please go see it.

Slumdog is nominated for 10 Academy Awards, and while I haven't seen any of the other nominated films, I'll go out on a limb and say that Slumdog deserves to win. You really should see it...did I mention that already?

(Oh, and since you're watching movies: have you seen any of the films nominated for Best Animated Feature? I'm partial to the one about the robot.)

My Golden Ticket.

For several years now I have been thinking about how I can get my children to take care of me in my old age. One of my biggest fears is being stuck in a rest home and forgotten. I need for them to have successful careers so they can care for their elderly mother when she is frail and needy. Of course they will go to college - that's non-negotiable - but I thought I might need a back-up plan to make sure that I am provided for in a way that I am accustomed. I have decided to take matters into my own hands.

Professional sports is one option. I decided long ago that the sport I am going to push on the children is golf. I like the idea of them becoming professional golf players for many reasons. First, the risk of injury is quite low. Golfers are hurt much less frequently than football or basketball players. Secondly, a golf career can span many more years than just about any other sport. Golfers can continue playing into their 60's and 70's. I figure I'll be well taken care of if the children are professional golfers. I think it's an honorable goal.

If professional sports doesn't work, my next option is music. This week I implemented Phase One of my retirement plan: the successful musician route. Yesterday, Riley began piano lessons, and today Colin began drum lessons. They are so excited and wanted to practice all evening. I'm sure this will change, but for now they are loving their lessons. With Riley on piano, Colin on drums, Gary on guitar, and Avery likely the singing talent, we're quickly on our way to this:


(My only fear is the Danny Bonaduce factor. Note to self: Avoid at all costs one of them becoming the Danny Bonaduce of the group.)


When I mentioned the idea of a band to Riley, he did come up with a part for me:

The triangle.

He has confidence in my talent.

Who Are We Kidding...It Was Me

It's Monday again, and even though it's a holiday there are no breaks from Not Me style behavior.


Last night was a particularly bad night for this household. Avery is getting a cold and has decided she's unhappy with the world. She has been extremely disagreeable for the last several days. This is carrying over into her nights as well, and she was awake three or four times overnight. She screams for mommy or dada until we go in and comfort her. I don't really mind going in her room since she usually never does this. I'm not concerned it's going to become a habit or anything.

But I am a bit sleep deprived as a result. So last night, after Gary and I both already having been up once each with Avery, I was out cold. Totally asleep. All of a sudden, I heard an explosion. A LOUD explosion. I knew someone had broken our window and was on their way into the house. Lucy also woke up and started barking and growling and huffing around the bedroom. I hit Gary and yelled at him to get up and go look around. He was less than thrilled, but started stumbling though the house anyway. We looked in the garage, the kids' rooms, the kitchen - nothing was out of place. At this point I'm really confused because that explosion was so loud there's no way I imagined it.

Since we found nothing we went back to bed and Gary was back to sleep in 2.8 seconds. (This annoys me greatly about him, incidentally. He can fall asleep in any situation in under two minutes and it drives me crazy that I can't.) I was lying there trying to go back to sleep when all of a sudden I knew. It all came back to me.

Sometime around dinner time I wanted a Diet Coke. We didn't have any cold ones so I stuck one in the freezer - you know, just for a few minutes.


Yep.

I definitely didn't forget to take it out of the freezer, and I definitely won't be spending a good hour of my morning cleaning this:


Happy Monday, everyone!!

No DNA Test Needed.

My husband has a brilliant mind and can solve just about any problem that comes his way. He has an enviable way of analyzing problems and finding solutions. I am not an analytical mind so having his brain to complement mine works well for us. He is not without his issues, though. He has one problem that this brain of his cannot seem to conquer. (My friend Peach out of Water recently blogged that her husband shares the same affliction.)

Gary is no.tor.i.ous for getting song lyrics wrong. It has been an ongoing joke in our relationship for the last 16 years. There have been certain songs that he has really butchered. The one that has been our longest lasting joke involves a song by Stevie Ray Vaughan. Gary is a huge fan of blues and SRV is one of his favorites. When we were newly dating Gary loved one of SRV's songs called "Cold Shot". The lyrics go "...that's a cold shot, babe - yea, that's a drag." (You know those blues songs...always complaining about something.) Gary's version was just slightly different. Until I set him straight, he had been singing, "Gots to go shopping - yea, that's a drag." I know. How he could think those were the lyrics I have no idea. This just illustrates you how lyrically-challenged he is.

Now, Riley is truly his father's son in many ways. Firstly, he looks just like Gary. He's a virtual clone of Gary at this age. In addition, he, too, has a razor-sharp analytical mind and is always thinking. He's a problem-solver just like his dad. He's a math whiz. He also finds bathroom humor hilarious, but that's another story for another day.

Last night I realized that Riley has more in common with his daddy than I knew. We were listening to Beyonce's classic children's song "All the Single Ladies", and I had to laugh when I heard that Riley was singing: "All the single lettuce."

Ah, yes...for all the single lettuce out there: if he liked it then he shoulda put a ring on it.

Season Confusion.

(Part Three of my impromptu global warming theme....)

I blogged the other day about loving this warm-ish temperature we're having here in the Bay Area. I'm having a hard time complaining about 68 degree weather, especially when I know so much of the country is in the teens. Brrrr. I'm not a cold weather gal, so 68* in January is right up my alley. I do know, however, that it's important for our dear planet to experience seasons appropriately. I know 68* is not typical January weather. My poor trees and shrubs and flowers know it as well. They're led to believe it's January one day, then April the next. They hardly know whether to go dormant or bust out in bloom.

I was stunned when I pulled into the driveway today and saw that one of my favorite trees is beginning to bloom. In January! It's typically a March-bloomer, and in April it has totally exploded with flowers. But here it is today.


My liquid amber is very close to leafing out. Again...in January! That's pretty early. Poor girl, she's so confused.


Yet another sign of my plants not knowing which way is up: flowers. Crazy.


And the guy that I feel for the most:


Look who snuck into one of my pictures. A bumble bee! I don't usually see them until April or so.

So for the sake of my dear foliage - and the bumble bees - I hope the weather gets back to typical January temperatures soon. I guess my flip flops can wait.

Burn Baby, Burn.

Today was a dark, dark day for me. I had one of the most horrifying experiences of my life...truly a nightmare come true. I'm now in a mini-depression, so allow my a few moments of wallowing, if you will.

Today I happened to find myself at a Mom's Club meeting. Also in attendance at this meeting was a doctor. This doctor specializes in laser skin treatment. This same doctor also happened to have in her possession at said meeting a UV light. This UV light is used to expose sun damage that is beneath the surface of the skin and not visible to the naked eye. At one point in the meeting I happened to find myself under the UV light, bearing witness to the horror that is my skin.


Obviously this picture is not of me, but it might as well been.

I am very fair skinned - or melanin-challenged, as I like to say - and I already knew that I must have sun damage. Let's face it: when I was a child, we didn't really know the full effects of sunburns and I have had my fair share. I desperately tried to fight my pigmentation when I was in high school and would lay in the sun and try (in vain) to tan. There's no tanning for this girl, however. It's all redness and blisters for me. So I knew that I surely had sun damage, but to see it for myself was eye-opening. The doctor did happily inform me that there are laser treatments available for my sun damage, though, so not to worry. Oh, excellent.

So, of course, this means I need to be even more diligent with the sunscreen. SPF 40 everywhere. (Especially my hands! I don't want to have old lady hands before I have to.) My dermatologist tells me I need to take it to the next level, however. I'm not generally a hat person (other than the baseball hat I wear 3x a week to take Riley to school when I haven't showered yet), but I think I'm going to have to become one this summer.

So you might be seeing more of this girl around town...


...so I can look less like this girl:


(No offense, sun damage girl, if you're reading this.)

Global Warming's Not So Bad.

My proof:

-Four hours at the park in the middle of January.

-Open windows all day in the middle of January.

-Thinking that Jamba Juice sounds better than Starbucks in the middle of January.

-Camelias blooming in the middle of January.


Could it be that global warming is getting a bad rap?

Just wondering.

It's. About. Time.

Waaaaay back in December I blogged about a little creative outlet I was working on.

Finally, finally, finally I'm ready to show it to you....

I opened my Etsy shop and it's ready for its debut. (I think.)

Check it out: www.loveydoveyclips.etsy.com and let me know what you think! I'll be adding to the shop every day (I hope). I've got more ideas swimming around in this little head of mine.

So bring on the feedback: the good, the bad, and the ugly!

Google: What Have I Ever Done to You?

I don't know if I should be offended or not, but today two people found my blog by Googling: 'how to waste 30 minutes' and 'how to waste 30 minutes at night'.

Whatever.

Personally, I don't really feel that reading my blog is a waste of 30 minutes. I mean, there's important stuff going on here! Didn't you see the post the other day that described my love for Meyer's Clean Day soap? That's quality blog reporting.

So, I'm here to help. If you are the two Googlers from Fond Du Lac, Wisconsin, and Frisco, Texas and you are still wondering how to waste 30 minutes, I have a few ideas for you:

-organize your sock drawer by color

-stare at your face in the mirror and take note of new wrinkles

-brainstorm things to sell on eBay to finance a mini-face lift

-update the contact photos on your iPhone

-seriously plan for what you'll do once you win HGTV's new dream home

-try to remember where you were each New Year's Eve since 1992

-watch an episode of Seinfeld that you've seen 59 times

-make a computerized person on the Wii (a "Mii") for each person in your family

-go through your medicine cabinet and throw out prescriptions that expired in 2001

-stage your daughter's Fisher Price Little People in their doll house after she's in bed

-look at high school classmates' profiles on Facebook

As you can see, there are numerous ways to waste 30 minutes of your night. Could it be that we are a society that relies too heavily on Google? All I'm saying is, Get creative! It's your time, find your own ways to waste it!

Don't listen to Google.

One For the Record Books.

Yesterday I mentioned that the cake Colin decorated for me held the world record for most sprinkles topping one cake.

The record didn't stand long.

Once Riley got home from school he wanted to decorate a cake as well, and as you can see he is no stranger to the art of the sprinkles either.


The cakes were delicious - even if a bit crunchy from the sprinkles. And I haven't had a single taste today...scout's honor!

Thank you all for the sweet comments yesterday. You made my 25th birthday so special. (Wink, wink.)

Feeling the Love.

Today, my bloggy friends, is my birthday. It's a dreary, foggy January 8th here, but thanks to my wonderful friends and family, I'm feeling sunny. There have already been so many nice sentiments today I can't believe how lucky I am to be surrounded by such great people.

Gary is coming home early tonight (which is a gift in and of itself!) so we can go to dinner. My parents are driving over to watch the kids so we can actually have some adult conversation. I've received lovely phone calls, texts, emails, and Facebook love from great friends. My dear friends at 3 Bay B Chicks surprised me with the nicest and funniest birthday tribute on their blog. (Thank you for leaving out the really bad hair pictures. You are true friends.) My friend Peach of out Water also gave me some love on her blog, and also dropped off and is picking up Riley from school so I didn't have to battle the elementary school parking lot. A gift if ever I was given one. Riley made me a card and Colin made me the sweetest birthday cake ever.


(Literally the sweetest. I think it may hold the record for the most sprinkles put on any one cake.)


So I'm feeling the love. Thanks to all for the birthday wishes. I'm wondering how I ever got so lucky.