his girl friday

There are some weeks when Friday can't get here fast enough. This really is one of those weeks. I thought I was going to have to run away last night because S had a serious case of the "hey mommies." She absolutely required that I hold her hand for the better part of the night. I think it was mostly because I was focusing my attention on adult conversations with M and my aunt M. S can't really stand for my attention to be focused on other people. Other tasks are okay to an extent, but apparently I should only converse with my two-year-old. Riveting, I'm sure. Anyway, I am happy as a clam that Friday is here.

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY (it's been awhile)

Sight: my fridge, which looks, as Feathernester likes to remind me, "like a single boy's refrigerator." (she's not wrong, it currently contains minced garlic, one apple, leftover peas, milk, juice, coffee creamer, eggs, tortillas, and some condiments.) the fact that our fridge is always borderline empty on grocery day means we aren't wasting food. i really like that.

Sound: the John Denver special on NPT last night. sunshine on my shoulders does make me happy.

Smell: food, specifically walking in the door and smelling that someone has cooked. i know i've mentioned this before, but very few things make me happier than the feeling that i walked into a place and someone cared enough to cook, even if that person was me. i want S to always feel that way, warm and loved when she walks into the house. i hope M feels that way, too. he should...as he has June Cleaver for a wife and dinner pretty much on the table every night when he walks in the door.

Taste: sweet potato concoction for last night's dinner. oh my. the homemade bread didn't hurt.

Touch: eskimo kisses. should i be calling this something different? it seems decidedly un-PC.

oh, God. that just happened.

I have just had the grossest experience thus far of mommyhood. Let's not forget, I have had my mouth puked in. I have been snotted in the face. Parenthood is really not something that should be entered into lightly if you have a weak stomach. Either way, my stomach just turned.

S pooped. It happens a lot. No big deal.

Somehow, though. Somehow I managed to get some poop on the back of my hand. I don't know how it happened. What I really don't understand is how I didn't notice.

I wiped my face with the back of said hand. Then I saw the hand, and I nearly barfed. Barfed. Right there in the kitchen. My stomach is still all swimmy just from thinking about it. It is going to be a heck of a day.

i'm glad someone else said this for me

Some days I'm not a big fan of Simple Mom. Some days the posts aren't applicable to me and my family. Some days I don't care. But some days. Some days that blog speaks to my soul. It says just what I need for someone to say. Today is one of those days.

I'm not about to say that we aren't somewhat kid-centric around here. S's sleep schedule demands it in terms of our time, and because no one can be happy when a toddler is blatantly unhappy, keeping her happy is a big part of our life. However, I live in fear of being like my neighbors. Granted they've got four kids, so it's different, but they live at the mercy of their kids. All of them are involved in what seems like an endless stream of extracurricular activities. It's exhausting to watch them come and go at all hours of the day and night, all year long. I want S to be involved and well-rounded, don't get me wrong. However, I don't want her to be worn out, and I especially don't want to be worn out. I know myself well enough to know that exhausted Ouiser is no good to anybody. I don't function properly if I'm run ragged. So, this little post made my day. Enjoy, peeps.

so little to report

There is just nothing exciting going on here. Here's the rundown of the past few days:

• My aunt M brought me one of my grandma's old sweaters a few weeks ago. It's a pretty awesome sweater. It's a DKNY and it's super warm and long and it reminds me of my grandma. The problem was moth holes. Loads of them. My aunt knew the sweater would fit me, and she thought I might be able to do something about the holes to make it wearable. So, I've taken up a little embroidery/crewel work from a book I borrowed from Feathernester. I've been creating eyelet holes, and it actually looks pretty cool. Plus, there is something that I truly love about the fact that I've been able to sit on my porch swing during S's naps with a basket of embroidery thread and some needles and just do something. It's been fantastically domestic and fulfilling.
• S busted her face for the first time yesterday. She managed to mangle her upper lip and the space between her upper lip and her nose. Her nose, chin, and bottom lip are unscathed. I don't even pretend to understand the mechanics of a fall that left her with those injuries.
  
• I went to the gym yesterday. It was an occasion.
  
• S had Kindermusik this morning. Ms. K played an Indian song when the kids were playing with the scarves/silks. I used mine to cover my face, and I shimmied around like a belly dancer. S thought it was completely hysterical. She laughed through the entire song.
• M, S, Mr. Feathernester, L, and I went to the farmer's market in Nashville Saturday morning. It was great. We also played at the Bicentennial Mall. The girls had fun going up and down the amphitheater steps. I sat on the steps, staring up at the capitol building, and I watched an errant plastic bag float across the lawn. I sat there thinking how bizarre it is to sit, staring at one of your great loves (home) while simultaneously seeing one of the things you hate most (garbage/waste/litter/the fleeting nature of plastics in society and what that says about society). It was a lot to think about in that one tiny moment.

I'm hitting the showers, peeps. Until the next bullet point update...

since i was berated...

As Scarlet Lily chose to totally call me out on my recent lack of blogging, I feel obliged to post something today even though I have nothing of interest to post about. Nothing. Nada. I feel stagnant in the brain. Here's what's going on with the Ouisers:

• S can now count to four. She could previously count to five as long as you weren't particular about the inclusion of the number four. She refused to say it. Yesterday, she miraculously started counting, "1-2-3-4." We were so excited you'd think she'd just mastered classic guitar or something. We are thrilled. Well, we were. Now she counts, "1-2-3-4-6." Apparently, the number five ticked her off badly.
• S loves her dollhouse. She's been ignoring that dollhouse for a couple of weeks, and I was feeling like a sucker. I thought she didn't like it. Now, though, she lays on the floor and just plays her little heart out. She takes the dining table out of the kitchen and the family has picnics with lots of exotic animals that visit the dollhouse from Noah's Ark. It's fantastic, I tell you.
• The concept of remodeling and adding onto our house has me tied in knots. I can sincerely say that the only thing that has ever confounded me so thoroughly is probability.
• I made brownies this morning, and they are everything that I hoped they would be, which means they are 9 inches by 13 inches of heaven with walnuts.
• S refused to eat her dinner last night. It was our first experience of her looking at it, poking it with her fork, pushing her bowl away with her nose scrunched up, and declaring, "I don't like it." She refused to even taste it, but she did stick it to her tongue once and make a face. It was gnocchi. Her loss.
• I watched my beloved Rachel Maddow for the first time last night in months. I just love her. If I lived in California, and I wasn't straight and married, and if the CA Supreme Court would repeal Prop 8, I'd marry that girl. That's a lot of "ifs." I'll stick with Mr. Ouiser. We're MFEO.
• I am going to clean up the popcorn/yogurt/cheerios and milk/barbecue sauce mess that my child has left me with.
  

Peace out, peeps. Have a great weekend.

the little things

I know that all the other mamas out there feel this way, but sometimes it's the littlest things that make parenting so wonderful. It's amazing how tiny little happenings make up for all the annoying things about having a toddler. I was walking around picking up the house a few minutes ago, and I stumbled across this...
For those of you who are confused, that's Ariel and Cinderella...riding S's tricycle. Her bike helmet was sitting on top, but I moved it to snap a picture. Even princesses have to be safe, right?

I love that kid of mine. Love her.

hey, mommy.

S has, as mentioned, been under the weather. Just a cold. No big deal. While she's a faucet of snot today, I can tell she feels better. "How," you ask. Because of the sheer quantity of "hey mommies" this morning.

"Hey, Mommy."

"Hey, S."

"Hey, Mommy."

"Yes, S, what do you want?"

"Mommy sit, too," or, "S go outside. Color chalk," or, "Cinderelly," or just more, "hey, mommy."

At one point this morning I flat out told her that if she didn't stop with the hey mommies that her mommy was going to lose it, so she needed to go play with her toys and leave me alone. And she did. For a really long time. I'm going to have to try that more often.

So, I hereby proclaim that "hey, mommy" is the sweetest sound that I hardly ever want to hear. I will say, however, that when she was going strong with "hey, daddy" last night, I found it hysterical. In a glad-its-not-me way.

MIA. no excuses.

I know, I know. I've been missing. I'm sure you were all worried that I'd been abducted by aliens or recruited to work for the President or laid up with Ebola or something. Alas, none of the above. I've just been boring, which is different than being bored.

We've not been doing anything terribly interesting. The fabulous weather went on vacation, leaving us with the dull gray and cold of winter for a few more weeks. I feel bad for the poor daffodils that thought their time had come. So, we've been indoors again, and though we've been able to play with Feathernester and L a lot, it's just been playtime. Nothing to write about.

Now, though, S and I are under the weather, so we aren't even playing. We skipped Kindermusik yesterday because S started coughing, and I didn't really want her hacking her germs at her friends. We skipped storytime at the Nashville library today, too. Boring, boring week at the Ouiser household. I'll have to think of something to do...

oh my ouch.

So, Simple Mom posted an article on budgeting yesterday. I've been meaning to look at our finances and re-budget since Christmas, but it took her article to get me focused. It's always miserable to think about budgeting. It makes me ill to see the number. You know, the number that indicates what you've got to spend on coffees, books, gifts, ice cream, new socks. I was looking at that number and thinking, oh my crap. We are broke. Quick, S, let's turn off everything that uses electricity. Then I realized that we save a substantial chunk of money every month, and I felt better because I know that I can keep myself from hitting the coffee shop when I know that it means that we, as a family, are more secure. Just the same, don't ask me out for coffee anytime soon:)

experience

I know I already blogged today, but I meant to post about this yesterday...

M and I had an interesting little conversation this weekend, and it turns out he'd gotten an email earlier in the week that involved the same topic. The internet is sucking the life out of a lot of our experiences. If you research something to the point of being an expert before you ever try anything hands-on, where's the fun? If I had started my little gardening hobby by doing excessive research, I think I would've chickened out. I would've known too much about what could have gone wrong. Instead, I've actually enjoyed my little failures, and truly appreciated my successes.

Anyway, I was telling M how much I loved that about gardening and composting...the learning process. The "figuring it out at kitchen tables." I'm the same with sewing. The same with art. The same with parenting. The same with cooking. I've found that the things I throw myself into with fairly reckless abandon (okay, a pretty calculated amount of reckless abandon) are the things that have made me happiest in life.

It's the exhaustive details of things that wear me out.

I desperately want to create an environment where S can learn through her experiences. I want her to know that it can be a good thing to fail...as long as you fail from trying. As long as you can learn from the failures. I desperately want to remember this idea every single day.

a broken record

I know I'm beating a dead horse here, but we are just loving our little warm spell. We've spent so much time outside over the past four days that I almost didn't even notice how badly my floors needed to be swept. Almost. Alas, I swept them this morning before we headed outside. It's just too easy to forget about the housekeeping side of things when you're busy stealing days of glorious weather away from old man winter.

Random things I've thought of during our time outside:

• As we played outside at my aunt's house yesterday, anxiously awaiting lunch, my cousin and I kicked a soccer ball around while M and my brother threw a frisbee and S wandered between the two and just generally ran around the yard. Watching us all bask in the sunshine with our little impromptu games, especially as my brother was wearing shorts, I stood there, thinking that we looked like the book/website Stuff White People Like threw up all over us. Seriously, that guy has us pegged. (This thought was further proven when, upon hearing that my brother and his girlfriend chose to go bowling instead of going to the park with her dog, I said, "what insane person would choose to go bowling inside instead of playing outside on a day like today?" Turns out they were going with her sister, and I declared that my brother must seriously like this girl. He always picks outside.)
• As S and I played with some friends at the park down the street, I thought to myself that she never, ever looks prettier than when her cheeks are flushed pink from running and being outside.
• While we were hiding in J's "secret clubhouse" at the park (a little hidden cove under some magnolia trees), I thought to myself that that particular space is almost like a little piece of heaven. It's brilliant.
• Upon arriving at home, as I sat reading Snow White to S, I couldn't help but smile at the stinky kid smell coming off her. You know the smell, right? It's the smell of outside. Sunshine and dirt.
  

I don't want this weather to end, but I know it will. I know it is February. All we can do is enjoy all of it while it's here.

Oh, and S's wardrobe for today included a purple fairy ribbon skirt over her cords, her pink crocs, and for quite a while, my sweater tied around her shoulders like a cape. She was quite a sight to behold as she ran around outdoors like that. Too precious. It makes me gag a little.

a perfectly wonderful day

Today has been fantastic. I couldn't write a much better day. M and I woke up this morning before S and laughed ourselves silly talking about nothing in particular. When S woke up, she was snuggly, so she and M cuddled on the couch watching Aladdin while I tidied up the kitchen and made coffee. S and I had cheerios with strawberries (I know they were trucked in from Florida. They were still delish, and I wholeheartedly believe they've added to the cheeriness of my day). S and I played in the backyard while M de-Otis-bombed it. We went to the farm and had lunch with my granddaddy and played outside with the puppy and the cat, and we mooed at the cows. S is napping now, and I've made a lemon cake. I'm thinking we should take a walk to the coffee shop after her nap and go play in the green park. We're having BLTs for dinner with the cake for dessert. This day has been great, a great day of nothing special but lots of happy.Oh, and S and I went to the zoo yesterday. She is now loving the "mary cats" Or the meerkats. Whatever. Why do all kids love those little guys??

happy

I made myself so insanely happy yesterday. I got new Sharpies. That's all it took to totally make my day. Today's crazy simple dose of happiness will come from roasting the chicken that's busily coming to room temperature on my kitchen counter right now. We'll be having it with mashed potatoes and the baguette that I picked up this morning. I am so, so excited. I'm also excited about the spinach I'll be sauteing with garlic, but I'm certain I'll be the only one excited about that one.

Oh, and here are a couple of pictures featuring last weekend's glorious weather.

jury duty

I skipped out on lunch after jury selections and went to the grocery store sans-toddler. I think it was a great trade. I'll head back for the board meeting at 3. I'm really excited to see what the jurors selected. I kept notes this morning like I did that time I registered voters. They aren't nearly as interesting, so I'll only share the highlights from my four pages.

It's freezing in the performance hall. I am going to have to put my coat on over my wrap, which is already over a sweater.
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We're moving on to fiber arts because we didn't have any applicants in the drawing category. I am a little bummed about that. Oh my. Tie dye. Oh, oh. Quilts with bad cartoon characters. Oh. Yuck. This is craptastic. I don't think these are going to make the cut.
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One of the glass applicants really belongs in jewelry, but either way, I want. Of course, I'd just buy the photographs of her work. It's that good.
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Jewelry. I'm really only drawn to two of these artists. Most everything else just looks like it came from Chico's. One artist's work is totally creeping me out. The pieces have faces. They look like fossilized babies. Gross. Oh, wait. There's another jewelry artist I like.
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Metal. The first artist in this category makes awesome sculptural fire pits. M would love these. LOVE. How much?? I'll write a check right now.
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Mixed media. Several of these are very cool. There is a disconcerting whimsical aspect to one, and I am trying to figure out why it makes me so uncomfortable. I just heard that one of these artists incorporates animal bones into his work. I can't help but wonder if Otis would "retrieve" it. One piece reminds me of MoWask. It's an image of toes and the word "HOPE." (It is not a piece featuring animal bones.)
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Painting. By the way, it's still freezing. If I had a ski mask, I'd wear it. Maybe a space suit, too. I'm not very impressed with any of the painters. I think it's because all of their subject matter is boring. I mean, a painting of onions? Really?
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Photographers really like to mention that they use archival quality paper. I get it. It lasts.
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This sculpture set looks like it should be titled, "Sculpture as inspired by Cosby sweaters."
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Last category. Wood. I'm thinking of road tripping to Florida when this is over. I can't feel me fingers. All the wood artists are boring.

So those are the highlights. Not that exciting, really. If you ever see me in some seemingly serious situation, and I look terribly busy, know that I'm taking ridiculous notes on the things going on around me. I couldn't tell you why I do this.

Happy weekending, peeps.

in love.

I'm about to jump in the shower to head to jury duty. Not that kind of jury duty. We have artist selection for the art festival this morning, and I'm dawdling. Before I head out, though, I feel compelled to share this. I am in love with every single thing on this website. I hope you are, too.

can this continue?

For those of you who haven't heard, S weighed in at 35 pounds yesterday. That's one pound less than 6 months ago. No big deal. I am not really shocked. I am, however, shocked at her height. 39 inches. THIRTY NINE. One less than 40. She has grown five inches in 6 months. Basically, I keep having a mental picture that involves squishing her down five inches so she'll expand outward like a lump of clay. Then I'd see how she looked at 18 months. I laugh every time I think about it. I am easily amused.

Of course, it has been pointed out to me that you're supposed to double a child's height at age 2 to see how tall they'll be when they're all grown up. According to this insane and blatantly WRONG tactic, S is going to be 6'6". This cannot possibly happen. Feather Nester suggested that I go ahead and find a good tailor now. Shoot me.

This crazy rate of growth also explains something that has always perplexed me about M. Everyone usually assumes that he had awful growing pains because he's so tall, but he never did. He has always told me that he never really went through a big growth spurt...he just always grew. He's always been tall. Maybe he passed this weird genetic thing on to my daughter. Crap. Maybe she will be 6'6".

two.

So, here goes.

S's birthday was a hit. She had a great, great time at her party. Everyone followed the rules for dressing fancy posh, and that was hysterical. My little brother was especially fancy in one of M's grandfather's ruffled tux shirts. The garbage chic decorations were good. The cupcakes in their throw-away wrappers were good. (So good that S is still begging for them, though she really only wants frosting.) The menu of S's favorite foods was a hit: chicken tenders, french fries, fruit, and pancakes...and chocolate milk. S particularly enjoyed the piles of strawberries, and she had so much strawberry juice staining her face that she looks like she has some sort of wicked rash in most of the photos.

The best part was singing Happy Birthday. S's whole face lit up like mine would if I opened the door and George Clooney was standing there. She loved it. Then, I had my John G. Roberts moment. I was trying to show her how to blow out the candles on her cupcake, and I accidentally blew them out. She looked quite upset, so we had to do it again.

She got way too many presents, and they are all wonderful and very loved. The new books are being worked into the rotation nicely. We're working on teaching her how to use the pedals on her new tricycle. She's introducing all of her stuffed animals and dolls to her new dollhouse. It's insanity around here, but it's great. We are really, really fortunate to have such generous and thoughtful people in our lives.

Here are the pics for those of you who weren't already exposed to them on facebook. Also, we're headed to the pediatrician this morning for the two year check-up. I am dying to find out how tall this kid is. I'll let you know.

stalling

I don't really have the energy to relive S's fantastic birthday weekend right now. I'm waiting for inspiration on that one. Instead, some tidbits that are all unrelated.

• I love the feeling of having a heavy coffee cup in my hand with my fingers wrapped through the handle. Oddly, I don't really like coffee, but holding the cup makes me happy.
• I am currently reading The Geography of Bliss and it is one of the best books I've ever read. I love, love, love it.
• Scarlet Lily sent me a fascinating email yesterday with some insight into my compulsive behavior. I can't wait to talk to her about it because, more than her theory, it has me contemplating the nature v. nurture question. I can be lost for days in that one.
• Our washing machine crapped out yesterday and flooded the mudroom and a bit of the bathroom. It will be fixed Thursday. I don't really care. (Except I do care about the mountain of wet towels that need to be washed lest they mildew and removing mildew smell when you only use unscented cleaners is difficult.)
• When I made and froze pesto at the end of the summer, I forgot to add salt to one batch. I used some of it last night, and it was not the best culinary experience I've ever had.
• The nasty frozen rain outside caused S's Kindermusik class to be canceled, and I am bummed because I was looking forward to her excitement when I told her she'd get to see "Ms. Kelli and friends" today.
• Feathernester and I ventured into Nashville to see Twilight Sunday evening. She made the most hysterical observation that I've heard recently, and I have laughed about it every couple of hours since. She mentioned that Robert Pattinson is way hotter when he "moves and talks." As opposed to what? (She meant than in pictures, but it's funny to me just the same.)

That's enough random for the day. Stay warm, peeps.

just you wait.

I don't think I've mentioned anything about the decor for S's party. I vowed not to purchase anything new for decor. Technically, I broke my own rule by purchasing fabric and making a tablecloth, but that can and will be reused, so I'm not counting it. Everything else is recycled. I just finished up the last of the decoration making thanks to the packaging in the box my SIL sent S's gift in. I mentioned to Scarlet Lily that I'm calling the look "garbage chic." It is really something to see. It looks like the cheapest white trash wedding you can imagine. It is so bad it's comical, and I love it. I can't wait to share pics after the party. Just so you can try to imagine what we're talking about, here's a rundown of the decor "ingredients."

• Tissue paper from the aforementioned box,
• Reused ribbon,
• The paper liners that came with the foil cupcake liners,
• One issue of Sports Illustrated,
• One issue of ArcNews,
• One issue of Newsweek,
• One piece of colored-on pink construction paper, and
  
• One piece of colored-on orange construction paper.

I also used embroidery floss, a glue stick, and tape that I already had. Go ahead and form a mental picture of the insanity.

an out of body experience

Sometimes, I wish I could be someone else. That came out wrong. I wish I could change things about myself that seem to be pretty hardwired. Do you ever feel that way?

I woke up the other day, and I thought to myself, "I'm not going to act like myself today." I laid in bed, plotting my day as someone else. Someone capable of being laid back. I was not going to make the bed as soon as I got out of it. I was not going to empty the dishwasher first thing in the morning so that the day's dirty dishes could be put immediately into it. I was not going to do laundry. I was not going to pick up every single thing I saw tha twas out of place and put it into its rightful place. I was going to act normal.

When I got out of bed, I put on my slippers, prepared to walk out of the room and promptly turned back around and made the bed. Then I put away the remote that M had left on his night table. I had to because I knew that when I walked back into my room later, the unmade bed would irritate me. It would make me downright panicky. So I guess I'm incapable of being laid back. I'm sure that's no surprise to many of you. (Of course it's not. I blogged about sorting earlier.)

Today's "I am not laid back" dilemma revolves around cupcakes. We're having a little party for S's 2nd birthday tomorrow night. I'm making cupcakes today, and I'm torn. I have silicon cupcake liners that I love. I use them often. In fact, I bought them in November, and I've used them probably a dozen times. The problem is: they're red. S's party is "fancy posh." Girly. Pink and purple. Red cupcake liners don't match. I bought foil liners at the store, but I am feeling some serious guilt about using them because they'll have to be thrown away. I had trouble falling asleep last night as I tried to rationalize this issue in my head. I mean, seriously. Just use the disposable liners, right? I know. I just can't wrap my head around it.

One of these days, I'm going to realize that you all just tune into my blog to see what the freak show is up to today.

Have a great weekend, peeps.

obsession by the little ouiser

S is currently obsessed with the following:

• apples, cold from the fridge and sliced
• big grapes, known to most of the world as prunes
• chocolate milk
• princess jasmine
• sleeping beauty and the fairies and the wicked queen
• the pink tutu, currently covered in pink paint
• paint
• markers
• the Ariel and Cinderella that go with her MegaBlocks
• Caps for Sale
• We're Going on a Bear Hunt
• Heidi
• Treasure Island, I am not joking.
  

what a day

There was a lot of waiting yesterday. A lot. I managed to successfully ignore all inauguration activities. We recorded everything, and I waited to watch it all with M. As S was a holy terror yesterday, the task wasn't as hard as you might think.

First, S. She was such a toddler yesterday, that I am declaring myself officially over it. Can I fast forward her out of this phase? At one point, during a diaper change, I'd finally had it. She was flipping all over, playing with the light switch. After repeatedly asking her to stop, I put my face in her face and told her that if she touched the light switch again, she was going to get a spanking. She did it again. I didn't have the heart to spank her, so I warned her again, somehow secretly hoping that she hadn't heard me the first time and that warning number two would strike fear into her heart and her angel halo would magically appear. No dice. I spanked her leg. She hit me back. That's all I can really say. It's pretty hysterical, but it once again proves that I have no power...absolutely no power...over my daughter when she's in one of her moods. It's a toddler thing, right? God, please let it be a toddler thing.

Second, passing time. During S's waking hours yesterday, it was easy to ignore the fact that my man Barack was becoming president. Naptime was another story. I kept myself busy by finishing the kitchen playmats for S and L (including some seriously homesewn looking food and it's container that doubles as a bowl), making a table slipcover for S's party, and finishing up the container I made for her Lincoln Logs. I think the sewing machine deserves a day off.
Third, duty calls. Feather Nester and I judged the county 4-H speech contest last night. (I realize how funny that sentence is.) She has 8th graders, I had 7th. It was quite an experience. There were eight speeches in my room, and the topics ranged from cotton candy to mission work to tae kwon do. Of course, these kids were amateurs, and I finally made it to the big show...

Fourth, Barack, Barack, he's our man. M and I crawled into bed to watch the day's festivities around 9:30. I loved every second of it. I am so, so hopeful, and I feel somehow renewed. Trust me, I know how insane that sounds. I love that his message of hope was tempered with a call for personal responsibility and sacrifice. I think too many people expect the government to fix all of our problems without their active involvement. I want people's grandparents to rise up and smack them and remind them that hard times call for hard decisions. There has to be a collective push to make this work. I'm not saying that people should revert to living like they're on Little House on the Prarie, though I applaud anyone who might, but maybe we should think about not getting the newest phone or the biggest house or the best whatever...maybe we could scale back a little. Our scaling back would still leave us all better off than a vast majority of the planet's inhabitants. Anyway, off the soapbox. Bottom line...I'm thrilled. I can't wait to see what the future holds in Obama's America.

By the way, the kitchen playmat idea came from here. Clearly, mine looks nothing like it, and I am certain that has everything to do with my complete disregard for following instructions. Someday I'll learn that instructions serve a valid purpose. Anyway, the food and bowl/holder are all me. I should patent this stuff:)

it's finally here

for the birds

S and I needed a project this morning. We've managed to successfully bake "bird biscuits." I hung them outside when she went down for her nap. Hopefully, we'll actually get some hungry birds and not just foraging squirrels, which is more likely. Here's our morning in pics.

uuughhh

Thursday morning, 5:08am: I am awakened by M whispering, "I think the pipes are frozen."

WHAT??!!@&*%$!

I shouldn't be all that surprised really. It seems like that should happen when you live in a house that feels like it's made of ice. Of course, he was right about the pipes being frozen, but since it was 5am, the bored guys at the water department, which is about a mile down the street, came over to check things out and make sure it wasn't frozen at the main. Turns out it was just us and our ice house with the frozen pipes. However, in checking out the main line, the water department put a big crack in it. So, frozen or not, we had no water. The water boys fixed the pipe before nine. My brother brought over some heaters to put under the house, then he and M spent most of the day in the crawl space. I took S to my dad's house. M and little bro ended up renting a 10000 BTU propane heater sometime in the afternoon as they realized that the little space heaters and the hair dryer weren't doing jack (rightly so as it was well below freezing). They got it rolling, and Drew left. Apparently, a pipe burst a few minutes later. M had been warned not to force the water main off by the water guys, so he had to call them again. They shut it off. My uncle called a plumber friend. Luckily, it was a connection in the pipes that had been rocketed off. No problem really. It was fixed in something like ten minutes. That was most of M's excitement for the day. Except...he went to dinner at Feather Nester's, and she tried to burn the house down with a magazine and the toaster. Or something like that.

I had a class in Nashville that night, so from my dad's house, I ran a few errands, including making a return at the mall. While I was exchanging one camera bag for another, the fire alarm went off. In the mall. Ever had that happen? I swear in a real emergency, we all would've died. You could see people sticking their heads out of stores, asking "what's going on?" No one really moved, but I was on the opposite end of the mall from my car, so I finished up my business and left. Of course, as I neared the food court, where I was parked, I realized they were evacuating everyone from that part of the mall. There were people standing outside in ten degree weather eating their nasty mall Cajun/Chinese food. It was a little odd. Then something like six fire engines came blaring into the parking lot.

So much excitement. I stopped into Starbucks on my way to class, and the barista started a little mini fire as soon as I stepped up to order. Luckily, he put it out before there was another fire alarm situation. So, that's one set of frozen pipes and three fires in one day for the Ouisers.

Friday morning, Mr. P's pipes were frozen. M was at work, so I was stuck with that one. Luckily, we weren't responsible for that little problem as his condo fees pay for that sort of maintenance. It took the whole morning, but it got fixed.

Last night, M was hit with some sort of stomach bug, so he's now completely out of commission. He keeps trying to pin it on the peanut butter recall or food poisoning or my chapstick (none of which are the problem). I don't think he could've written himself a worse week.

So, that's the last three days in a nutshell. Hope yours was better.

the long haul

Do you ever have one of those days that, from the second you wake up, you know is going to be a long, long day? Of course you do. Everyone does. (If I'm wrong, and you don't, send me your pills.)

Today is one of those days. I had a board meeting last night, and it lasted longer than expected, and I was "appointed" secretary because of my absence at the last meeting where I was unanimously voted to fill the vacant position. Not a problem really as I tend to take copious notes anyway, and I don't mind typing them up. In fact, I've already gotten the minutes done as I wanted to get it done while I still knew what everything meant. After that, I decided to read a little of that Stephanie Plum book I mentioned yesterday because I needed a little funny. I ended up reading the whole thing, and I finally turned off the light at about 12:30. Not that late...not Twilight late at least.

I should've known better, though. I should've known that it's 20 some odd degrees outside and that I wasn't going to want to get out of bed even before I deprived myself of a couple of hours of sleep. Either way, my daughter miraculously slept an extra 45 minutes, so when I hadn't budged at 7:15, it wasn't a big deal. Dragging myself out of the warm bed was still difficult, but I managed to get my teeth brushed and the bed made and a cup of coffee brewed before S woke up. However, it's one of those days. Coffee doesn't sound good. A big gulp full of a sugary Cherry Coke sounds good. An entire bottle of Excedrin sounds good to combat the wicked headache that I've had for two hours. A sackful of Taco Bell sounds good because you know it's not a day for eating healthy. I think I should go back to bed.

On the flipside, S is having a blast climbing onto the end table, which though M requests that she not do, I tend to allow as long as she "pays attention." I remind her every now and again to make sure she's not sitting on the edge...or to make sure she sees what's on the sofa before she dive bombs it. I'm probably a horrid mother for allowing this, but I can't seem to get her to stop, and I don't actally care that much. M feels differently, and as I'm putting this out there for the world to see, I imagine I'll hear about it later. (I love you, honey. Don't be mad at my horrendous parenting skills and complete lack of couth.)

Okay, I'm off to chase the toddler away from Otis's water bowl for the umpteenth time this morning. Have a great hump day, peeps.

the books by the bed

My aunt Mel gave me a journal for Christmas. Journals aren't really my thing, but I've decided to try to write everyday one or two things that happened that day, one thing that I was thankful for that day, and one thing that I learned. It's been an interesting little exercise so far, as the things I'm thankful for have varied from sunshine to the pediatrician. It's the "things I learned" that are hard. You try to think of one new thing you learned everyday... it's tough.

Anyway, after I finished writing last night, I, for some reason, felt compelled to list all the books that are stacked by my bed so I could share the titles. Here you go...

• Last Child in the Woods (I am currently loving this, and I'm leaving notes in the margins like crazy.)
  
• Lean Mean Thirteen (I generally love Stephanie Plum books because they are so ridiculously funny.)
  
• Sew U
• Outlander (borrowed from Feather Nester...I keep trying...)
  
• Animal Vegetable Miracle (I'll be rereading this soon, I'm sure, as I'm practically falling all over myself about ordering seed catalogs for the spring.)
  
• The Audacity of Hope
• Stuff White People Like
• A Walk in the Woods (when I need a dose of humor)
  
• Tennessee Gardener's Guide
• Gorgeously Green (a total disappointment...I need to return this to my stepmother)
  
• The Female Brain
• Guide to Manners (are you very surprised??)
  
• Eastern Trees field guide
• SuperFoods Rx (an all-time favorite)
  
• The Green Gardener's Guide
• Eat, Play, and Be Healthy
• The Complete Outdoor Builder (because someday we'll get around to building a deck)
  
• Yard and Garden Basics
• Creating Natural Landscapes

It's an exhausting stack, and most of the books are long since completed, but I like to have them close at hand. I never know when I might want to look something up...so I keep favorites nearby. Of course, some of them are books that I keep trying to read but can't get into.

Oh, and I feel the need to give a shout out to The Creative Family and The Art of Simple Food. Those live in the living room and the kitchen, respectively, and are read constantly when there's downtime.

Clearly, I've linked all these books through Amazon, but if you're going to purchase them, I recommend using this site to find a local, independent bookstore if you can. You can create a book wish list for yourself, too...which will help the next time I need to buy you a gift:)

m the comedian

Some of you know M pretty well, and those of you who do likely know that he has a mental block when it comes to the pronunciation of certain words. The most well known example is "ambulance," which might explain to others of you why he always says "EMS truck." So...

...if you've been watching any football lately, you may have noticed the lapel pins that the Fox broadcasters have been sporting. I asked M last night if he knew what they were about, and he responded with one of those words he can't say.

"I think I heard that they have something to do with all timers research."

Huh?

"I think you mean Alzheimers."

"No, no I don't. I think they are researching all timers. Hourglasses. Stop watches. You know...timers. All of them."

I laughed for a good long while at my ridiculous husband. He never ceases to make me laugh. He'd spent most of the day up to that point making me laugh by getting S to say "baba ganoush." I love my life.

I also love this.

Oh, and this...the infamous stinky pink tutu.

the one where i act like a boy

-the single most ridiculous statement ever uttered-

This single observation had me rolling last night. It was Thom Brennaman's take on some statement made by some Oklahoma player that Tim Tebow would only be the fourth best quarterback in the Big 10. I thought it was terribly funny because, frankly, as much as I hate the Florida Gators, Tim Tebow is pretty wicked awesome. The fact that he is also apparently just short of being a saint makes me puke. No one is supposed to be that good at everything.

Beyond that, I was lying in bed last night, unable to sleep, mulling over the idea of a Division I college football playoff series. I know lots of people talk about it, and I agree that the BCS is totally bogus, but I'm not sure that a college football playoff can work, and I'll tell you why. Money. Plain and simple. If there is a playoff, what happens to the bowl games? All three hundred and forty seven of them that we are currently subjected to. Do they all go away? Or do we add playoff games? Neither option sits well with me. Eventually some of these bowl games are going to have to make like Tom and cruise (thank you, little sis for that phrase). If you watched many bowl games this year, you know that there are a lot of empty seats. Not all of these games can survive. Especially not in this economy. However, the thought of just axing the games can't happen either because no one is going to voluntarily give up a tourist draw. Adding more games can't really work, either. How is that going to be funded? Budgets would have to support that much more travel for each team...for each diehard fan. Plus, I get pretty sick of it by the end already. There is no aura of awesomeness surrounding the postseason anymore aside from the big bowl games.

I'm sure that most of you couldn't care less about this...but I was thinking about it, so here it is. Maybe it'll give all you Stantecers something to talk about today.


...and now I'll act like a whiny girl...

For the first time in my adult life, yesterday I chose not to take a shower. It wasn't that I'm finally coming around to some greenie idea about saving water. Nothing nearly so noble could keep me from my beloved shower. It was heat...or a lack thereof. Our house is an icebox. Our heating bill is something like two-and-a-half times what it was in Lexington, and our house is freezing. We've had to buy a supplementary heater, and M and I walk around bundled like mummies, but we're still crazy cold. Our house is seriously drafty. We can't seem to get the problem under control...

I digress.

I chose not to take a shower yesterday because I had gotten myself somewhat close to warm, and I couldn't bear the thought of making myself cold again. M argued that the thing I love most about showers is the warm water, and he's right. That part is great. But. But then I have to get out of the shower. I have to step my naked self out of the warm shower into the cold air of the bathroom, and that sucks. I couldn't do it to myself yesterday. I think that is a defining moment for me. I think we're really, really going to have to do something about the temperature in our house.

Lastly, I ran across this question yesterday in the archives of Simple Mom. Where is your favorite spot in your home and why? Mine is, unquestionably, the wing back chair in the corner of the bonus room. Every single time I sit in that chair, I am immediately comfortable. It sits in front of the window, and I can curl up with my feet on the ottoman and watch S play...or I can read a book, which is my most favorite thing to do in that chair. It's a perfect reading chair. So, what's your fave??

sorting it all out

Do you ever have a realization about yourself? A realization that you're certain says something much deeper about you...you just don't know what? Okay, that makes this whole thing sound much bigger than it really is.

I've realized (and I already knew it, it just hadn't really hit me) that I am a sorter. I sort things. I sort the art supplies that go in the trays on S's easel. Crayons, classic colored markers, bold colored markers, coloring pencils. I have to stop myself from looking over her shoulder and demanding that she sort them properly. I suppose I've always been this way. I can't remember a time when I wasn't. I suppose I should've realized that this was a huge part of me when I got excited about a project I had to do in Biogeography class. Our professor gave us each a huge ziploc bag full of various candies, and we had to create a classification system. I created a system based on shape mostly because I was pretty engrossed in the geomorphometry class I was taking at the time. Either way, I loved it. I was totally obsessed with the project.

My big "I am a sorter" moment came last night when I realized that every time I sit to play blocks with S, I immediately start to sort them. In the case of the princess blocks, I sort by color first, then shape. For her wooden blocks, it's just shape...obviously. When I play with her Noah's Ark, I sort the animals into pairs before I do anything else. When we dump all the crayons out, I sort them according to the color spectrum. Get it? I SORT THINGS. I am some sort of freak, I am sure of it.

The thing is, I know that not everyone is like this. M doesn't sort the blocks. He plays with the blocks.

So, here's the million dollar question: do you sort things? I am realizing that I see almost everything that I encounter as something to be sorted. How do you see things??? Am I all alone in my sorting hysteria? Does anyone else realize that I sound like a total fruit loop and that I should be thanking the heavens for sending me a husband that puts up with this mess?

an update on the girl

It's hard to sit down and blog these days. S is just doing so much. Firstly, the kid seems to be growing like a weed. We had to take her to the doctor on Saturday morning for an ear infection, and she still only weighs (only...ha) 36 pounds, but she's so much taller all of a sudden. She hasn't been measured since her 18 month check-up, but everything is short on her. And, she's losing her baby shape. Her belly doesn't poke out quite like it used to, which is not to say that it doesn't poke out because it does. Her legs are longer and thinner. Her face is thinner. She's looking like a kid. A beautiful, perfect, hysterical kid.

As a kid, she's starting to do new things, too. The vocabulary continues to expand. Now we can't get her to shut up. I was laughing about it with Feather Nester earlier. S kept telling us that she was finishing her yogurt. Then she'd start talking about everything that was going on around her. A couple of minutes later, she'd have maybe taken one bite of yogurt. She just refused to stop talking. We laughed because everyone says that toddlers hit a certain age and become so interested in exploring that they lose weight because they won't stop to eat. S never did that really. However, she's starting to thin out now because she's too busy yapping about everything to eat.

She's also super into her new toys. There have been many, many masterpieces created at the new easel. Plus...and here's the exciting part...she's drawing things. Actually, she's drawing indecipherable lines and telling us that they are things. She can draw fish, octopi, daddy, penguins, and bananas. At least she says she can. It's so, so fun to watch. She gets really excited about it. We're also loving the new dishes that she got at Christmas. S has apparently picked up a nasty caffeine addiction as she walks around all day "drinking coffee too." Then there are the princess mega blocks. I can safely say that I doubt she has a future as a structural engineer. Her castles (because she only builds castles) never stay upright for long. And she loves playing with her magnetic paper doll thing. And she's loving her pink tutu...that she wore today with a Colts tee shirt and jeans...yesterday with a green tee shirt and brown cords...the day before with a princess tee shirt and leggings. It's likely to start smelling any day now.

Okay, that's enough. I just thought you all might be missing S...

santa's library

So, S got quite the haul of new books for Christmas, and we are all loving them (see if you can spot M's favorite title...thank you, MoWasks. you made his Christmas.) Here's a list.

• The Complete Adventures of Curious George
• Llama Llama, Red Pajama
• Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
• Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
• Harold and the Purple Crayon
• Fancy Nancy and the Boy from Paris
• Fancy Nancy at the Museum
• Goodnight Moon
  
• The Umbrella
• There's a Map on My Lap!
  
• The Chimpanzees of Happytown
• Angelina Ballerina
• The Snowy Day

There are a few things under the tree that she hasn't opened yet as we are waiting for the Feather Nester fam to get home from Texas.

We are really enjoying the new books, and we're glad to have them as we'll be repacking the Christmas books soon. We are seriously afraid that S is going to have a meltdown when all the Christmas stuff goes away, which will likely happen on Friday. She still likes to say hello to the nutcrackers every single day...usually every single hour.

As for me and M, we also scored a few new titles. This I Believe II, The Tales of Beetle the Bard, and Last Child in the Woods. Technically, I also acquired a copy of 60 Hikes within 60 Miles of Nashville, but I'm "sharing" it with my brother, and he is currently in possession of said book. As possession is nine-tenths and all, I'm not holding my breath.

Happy Sunday, peeps. We're skipping church this morning and just chilling out having tea parties in the living room floor and playing with S's babies.

our day...in words and pictures

I know, I know. I've been MIA. I've been uber-busy gearing up for the holiday. I'll catch you all up later, but here's the rundown.

5AM, M and I can't sleep. He finishes watching A Christmas Carol while I make monkey bread muffins and coffee...and all the makings of the cornbread dressing.

630AM, Otis begs for molasses butter that I prepared for the turkey.

7AM, we anxiously wait for S to wake up as we sit on the kitchen counter and sip our coffee.

730AM, S wakes up. Aunt Mel, Uncle Bret, and Granddaddy show up. We bring the little one downstairs as she asks for a piece of chocolate.

731AM, S starts running in place ala Chris Farley in Tommy Boy when she sees the easel that Santa left her. She immediately grabs the coloring pencils and starts naming colors and drawing.

735AM, we start begging her to open a gift. She obliges us by opening her Fancy Nancy doll. That was a mistake. We should've saved it for last.

736AM, Fancy Nancy achieves an X rating as S strips her of her clothes.

737AM+, S humors us every few minutes by opening a gift. She really likes the stockings as they are full of stickers and suckers and My Little Ponies. (Stockings...yep, it's plural. One from Santa, one from Aunt Mel, and I think another on the way.) I'll give a complete list of her new library (because she got awesome books) tomorrow.

9AM, turkey goes in the oven. I work on assembling the aforementioned dressing ingredients.

10AM, the Ouisers head out for the Christmas morning walk. We say hello to the Spencers. We head to Aunt Mel's and eat sausage casserole and eggs.

1130AM, we head home and realize that my dad and fam are already here. Oops. I have not showered. Luckily, M and S are presentable. I am forgiven because my house smells like deliciousness.

1215PM, more gifts. S loves, and I mean loves, her new Cabbage Patch doll Fannie.

1PM, S goes upstairs for nappers.

130PM, lunch is served. Turkey with molasses butter, cornbread dressing, cranberries, sweet peas, mashed potatoes, and yeast rolls. Followed by mounds cake, caramel pecan pie, and orange date cake. I am likely to need new pants tomorrow.

4PM, S finally falls asleep.

430PM, I finally get to shower.

5PM, S wakes up screaming. I rock her for 15 minutes, which leads to my current state of being snot and drool covered. So much for showers and clean clothes.

530PM, S realizes that the Advent Calendar is gone, and she loses it. M holds her for ten minutes trying to calm her down. She only calms herself when we turn on Sleeping Beauty. She and M are on the couch now with apple juice and grapes.

6PM, you're looking at it. I'm thinking about hitting the leftover pie.
And here was her favorite activity last night at Aunt Mel's.

grounded in a time out with a spanking

Help me. Somebody, please. Maybe I should be calling Nanny 911 per Feathernester's suggestion.

My child is immune to discipline. Granted, I understand that she's still only a one-year-old, but I have no idea what to do. She doesn't care a thing about time out. She thinks it's a game. Remove her from what she was doing, and she just immediately shifts gears and decides to do something else. Take away a toy, and she picks out another one to play with. Give her a stern talking to, and she does a mental eye roll and grins at you. Yell at her, and she ignores you. I even tried spanking her once (very calmly, I might add), and she literally looked at me like I had lost my marbles. I have no idea what to do. She does respond somewhat to M's voice, mostly because it is crazy deep when he gets mad, and it carries. I can imagine it's what it would be like to hear Zeus's voice thundering down from Olympus. I'd stop what I was doing, too. Of course, it only succeeds in getting her attention. She then goes back to whatever she was doing.

I am at a total loss.

I've, for the most part, been able to stop her from hitting and biting and pushing. I cannot, however, make her stop climbing on the furniture like a monkey. Feathernester and I thought that perhaps I should ignore it (as long as there was no real danger...like falling on a set of kitchen knives or something). Let her fall. Then maybe she'd learn. M has wholeheartedly disagreed with that approach, however. That makes it a little tough for me as she totally ignores all of my attempts at disciplining her.

Any advice?

I know that I've always heard to remove the object that causes the problem. That's easy when the problem is her practicing her forehand on Otis. It's just taking away a tennis racket. It's not so easy when we're talking about removing the furniture from our home. Oy.

I need a drink. Is it too early in the day for that?

bite me

Okay. It's official. I have moved back to the place where I was once a fifteen-year-old girl, and I have become a fifteen-year-old girl once again. My newest obsession is Twilight. That's right. Every other teenage girl and I in the country are in L-O-V-E with Edward Cullen/Cedric Diggory.

Normally, I don't dig vampire stuff, despite the urgings of dear Kristie who loves vampire movies. I usually think they are annoying and stupid, and I generally lack the ability to suspend disbelief enough to enjoy them. However, late Saturday night, I was unable to sleep (which has been an issue for a couple of weeks now), and I was kind of over reading my new book for the night, so I picked up Twilight, which I had borrowed from my cousins just in case I felt like a dose of fiction. I did not put it down until I was completely finished. I didn't even get up to pee, which resulted in a very long trip to the potty when I was done reading after six-and-a-half hours.

The book was intoxicating. I couldn't stop reading. It sucked me in, and I loved every second of it. Look, I know it's not great literature or anything, but it was highly entertaining. So much so that I required my husband take me to the movie yesterday afternoon after we visited with his dad. Like all books turned into movies, the book was significantly better, but I can see that the movie would be perfectly fine without the book. I recommend the book, though. I recommend it a lot. But only if you're a girl. I don't think it would have the same appeal to guys. You know, if you weren't able to sit there reading, imagining Robert Pattinson smolderingly staring holes through you. Like I said, L-O-V-E.

So, I am anxiously awaiting the second book from Hillary and Abbe, though I've promised my husband I won't start reading it until the weekend. I am certain that my parenting skills would suffer if I chose to continue staying up all night reading vampire chick-lit. So, I'll wait...

Hope everyone else had a great weekend. Especially those of you who were able to attend the FIRMYs.

BREAKING NEWS

Okay, since the writing of this morning's post, we've hit a major milestone in S's life. Major. Bigger than her using the potty last week. Bigger than her apparent love of all things Christmas that aren't Santa Claus. Bigger than her starting to actually pretend things.

She has gotten a joke. Sort of. It wasn't really a joke. It was just something I said.

History. Most of the time, when I drop something or run into something, instead of the typical, "sh!t," or some other non-PG phrase, I say, "Ruh roh, Raggy." You know, like Scooby Doo says to Shaggy? Do you get it? Is it obscure? Anyway, S and I were having a little tea party upstairs before her nap, and when I accidentally dropped my cupcake, I said, "Ruh roh, Raggy." S cracked up. Full on giggling. The type of giggling that normally only ensues during tickle fights. This is the first time she's ever laughed at something verbal that wasn't a goofy noise. She kept dropping the cupcake over and over and then saying it herself.

"Ruh roh, Raggy."

"Ruh roh, Raggy."

"Ruh roh, Raggy."

It was priceless. Absolutely hysterical. Then she got that the joke could be carried into other activities. She accidentally on-purpose kept falling off her bouncy horse, and saying, "Ruh roh, Raggy."

It's a good day around here.

no dice.

We took S to see Santa Claus (or in S language, "Sankulk Clawwws") last night. Of course, we got there during Kris Kringle's dinner break, so my family took S to the Disney Store for the first time. It was sensory overload for a few minutes as she refused to venture beyond the first ten feet of the store, which was the princess section. Go figure. (Had I mentioned that the princess obsession has sort of already hit our house? Princesses are super fancy posh, and therefore, they are revered.) She didn't break anything or cry, so it was a success.

The visit with Santa Claus, however, was not a success. S refused to sit in his lap. Refused. When I tried to let go of her, she pulled her, "I will crush your internal organs with my thighs if you even think of letting me go" move. She didn't cry or scream or get really panicky, she just wouldn't let go of me. So, no Santa picture this year. She was super cute all decked out, though. Plus, she was really into the set up around Santa. Lots of big trees and lights and things. And let's not forget the unparalleled commercialism of Christmas. She pretty much loved everything about that. It was the first time I've let her walk in a mall, and she dug it the most.

So, since there is no Santa photo, here's a copy of a wide-eyed S spotting the Disney Store windows. Happy Thursday, peeps.

finger painters for hire

S and I finger painted this afternoon before nap time. Originally, I just sat down with her and painted a bit, then I remembered, "hey! I have a blank canvas in my bedroom, and I bought paint last week to paint a picture for S's bathroom. HELLO." The squishiness of the acrylic paint all over my fingers was great. Ridiculously cathartic. I highly recommend it. Besides, what else are you going to do with a forty dollar canvas?? Use a brush??

Either way, here are the results. Please note that my child seems to think that finger paint is for painting her fingers. She painted more on herself than on the paper. I did not get a picture of the resulting green bath water. I will say that at some point, the octopus picture will say, "I'd like to be under the sea." Get it? In an octopus's garden. I am so clever that sometimes it hurts.

turkey week in pictures

I thought that another photo post would make catching up on the last week pretty quick. No. It took 20 minutes just to go through the pictures. Oh, well. Here you go...the Ouisers' Thanksgiving week.

S refused to take this bathing suit cover off for days. She thinks it goes with everything.
This time, it was Grandpa who got fancy-posh'd.
Photography by S. Little thief snaked the camera from the counter.
One of our thankful lists on the sidewalk.
Doing the Turkey Dance Thursday morning.
Stretching out her tummy via...bean juice??
Working off the turkey by fishing for leaves.
Don't ask me what happened here.
Decorating T and Grandma's tree.
Bah humbug.
Our tree and our girl.

And a couple of videos for Scarlet Lily...

Daddy, you're welcome for this one...