Stuff You Probably Already Know

Sometimes I'm doing things and I think, do other people know about this?  

The answer:  yes.  But I'm going to write about it anyway.  It's called artistic license and I have one, TYVM.

There are a few foods that are so easy to make from scratch that we've been enjoying. 

1.  Polenta.  And I don't mean that tube of it you get at the store.  I mean the corn meal, cooked down, molded, and then fried.  It is the EASIEST thing ever to make and I love it fried up in some butter or veggie oil.  (Not olive oil--turns rancid).  Haven't tried it?  DO IT!  So simple and different.

2.  Bread.  It's actually been a while since I've made it.  But it's surprisingly easy to do and as long as you get all the ingredients in, you can't mess it up too bad.  Hot, fresh, bread out of the oven with some butter and jam?  Heavenly!  A bread maker is on my wish list this year, so Santa, if you're reading...wink wink!

3.  Dates.  Okay, you can't make this, but man.  I was never into dates at all.  I thought they were weird, or like nuts, or just...yucky.  Brendan got fancy the other day at Costco and got a tub of them.  Guess what? They are like CANDY.  And they are rich.  I can only eat 3 of them before my white flag of surrender goes up.  Brendan stuffed them with smoked almonds and wrapped them in bacon for Thanksgiving.  That will be happening again in our house, soon.

Okay, I'm done with the food portion.  Now for something unrelated..

Brixton's in this weird toy in-between zone.  He's too big for baby toys, but still too baby for big boy toys.  So I don't want to shell out a bunch of money for new toys for him that he's not going to like..solution?  Buy used.  I think 70% of the gifts we are giving him are coming from children's resale shops.  It's a perfect solution--spend less, buy less, consume less, and ultimately I'm going to resell the toys, so I might recoup some of the money.  Genius?  Probably.

18 month olds can be mean.  Am I right?  Please tell me I'm right and my kid isn't the only mean kid out there.  The thing is: it seems like he reserves his worst for me.  Biting my legs, my hands, my fingers.  Slapping, pulling hair.  Screaming.  He's also taken to trying to bite inanimate objects and/or banging his head on the floor.  I just let him.  I'm serious.  Go ahead, kid, bang your head on the floor.  Mommy's not going to react and you are going to learn that banging your head on the floor hurts.  

This phase is testing my (non-existent) patience.

And then in five seconds, he's the awesome kid I've always known, smiling, kissing everyone and everything, saying new words, playing new games, eating like a champion.  

My, my, what have we gotten ourselves into?

Tonight I'm rocking my new pajama outfit from Target. All fleece, all the time.  I even got socks and a robe.  Yes, a robe.  It's the gray one with white polka dots if you see it there.  I need all these layers because I AM COLD.  Constantly.  I wear socks to bed every night.  I have no less than 5 layers on our bed right now.  A flat sheet, a blanket, a quilt, another blanket and a feather filled duvet.  That's how cold I get.  

Brendan gets too hot.  He could sleep under a piece of tissue and wake up sweating.

Bless his heart.

It's been a bedding challenge, that's for sure.  

But for now, I'm warm and cozy, and that's all that counts.

Because you've made it all the way through this post, you are rewarded with two of my favorite pictures from this week:

This is fun!

 I am miserable and will now make everyone else around me feel the same way.

Let the Holidays Begin!

As far as I'm concerned, it's the holiday season when there's egg nog in stores.  That doesn't mean I actually buy it, but when it's there, it's holiday time.

Mmmmmm...now I'm going to have to get some egg nog. 

Our holidays started off with tradition that we've actually decided to discontinue.  Every year, in Chicago, there is a German Christmas market.  The first year you go, it's fun and quaint. The second year you go, it's fun.  The third year you go, it's expensive and ultimately a little boring and not worth a 2 1/2 round trip train ride, $26 in train fare, who knows how much for food and drinks, and the $20 I pay for a German children's CD.

And Brixton was not impressed.  At all.  I think a toilet paper tube and a rubber band could have provided more entertainment for him.  

Anyway, here are some glorious pictures:

This was Brixton's excited face.

This stupid boot is the only reason we really want to go.  We collect them each year.  $7 each, filled with hot, mulled wine.

German food is just as devoid of color as I remember it.  Tastes good, though. And has anyone else ever wondered why it's so darn expensive?

Lebkuchen.  I think it's pretty, but tastes gross.

Oh, friends, our holiday fun wasn't over, it's only just begun.  A few nights later we met up with some friends and went to the Electric Holiday parade in the town next to ours.  

Brixton loved it!  (Success!!!!)

It was cold out, but that's seasonal right?  I mean, it doesn't feel holiday festive unless you can't feel your feet or see your breath.  (Note: If you can smell your breath, you may have a problem.)

Yes!  A sign of life!  He was very impressed with the toy train, the firetruck (which honked it's horn) and the glowing teddy bear, which he leaned forward as if to kiss.  He kept repeating his favorite new word, "Truck! Truck! Truck!"

The best thing I saw during the parade?  Brixton's face as he took everything in.  Anyone else stare like crazy at your kid everytime you're doing something new/fun?  Am I a stalker?

How cute is this family?  We were standing next to them, so I just took their picture.  Just kidding, we know them.  After the parade they came back to our house and we had pizza, salad, good convo, laughter, watched the kids play Wii, and their kids wore Brixton out by playing chase with him around the house!  Come back anytime guys!

 

Better Late..

Back in September, when I went to California, I accidentally left my SD card at my parents house.  They recently sent it to me and lo and behold I had time (and, more importantly, the energy) to pick out a few of my favorites.  

First big boy haircut. He was pretty impressed.

 

I love this picture, I just wish it was more in focus.  We were really pushing it on the lighting..and I have no idea how to set up my lens manually.  I think this lens is a bit too much for me.  

 Love it when we match and have our picture taken together.

 

It's completely possible I'm the worst Aunt ever.  I just love pictures of crying babies though!  They're hilarious!

I don't know where he got that pose, but I'm glad he thought of it while I had my camera out.

That's Brixton and his Great-Grandma.  If I'm not mistaken she's turning 93 in February.  Sharp as a tack.  

Pretty sure I have some handsome brothers too. 

Bidwell Park

The Duck Pond in Paradise.  If anyone reading this knows this pond, I almost died when I went there. I didn't even recognize it.  The trees have grown so big since the last time I was there...which was about 16 years ago..

There's just something about an end-of-summer evening and One Mile that makes you want to kick off your shoes..

Cleary not understanding the spoon-to-mouth concept.

He doesn't do this often, but when he does I make a big deal out of it and say, "Grossssssss!!!!"  He loves it.

Yes, two crying babies in one post.  This crying face was due to the fact I wanted him to wear a hat.  I let him win this one.  We took off the hat.  Crisis averted.

Partaking in a little Grandpa fun, "Kissy Baby".

The Accidental Chicken

Growing up in a wooded area led to many adventures.  Forts, trails, stealing eggs from the neighbors hen coop.  It was all so fun and even felt a bit magical at the time.  Nothing compared to the delight I felt when I would find a little injured creature, like a bird.  I thought it was my duty to nurse the said creature back to health, where it would then show its gratitude by being my new best friend.  

 Yes, that was me a little bit.

When I found the poor bird, because it was normally a bird, I would bring it in the house, much to my mother's displeasure.  First, my mother hates birds.  Second, gross.  I would find a shoe box and place the poor dear in it, along with some toilet paper (for a bed), a piece of bread (to eat, obvi), and a small cup of water (to swim.  Just kidding, to drink, duh).

We'd place it in the back bathroom that no one really used.  And I'd visit it.  Often.  Obsessively.  

In the morning it was always the same: a cold, stiff, dead bird and my broken child-heart.

*********************************************************************

The other morning Brendan let me lounge in bed until 8.  I padded down the stairs and immediately looked out of our front door window.  There was a chicken there, in the yard across the street. A lost chicken.  A chicken that obviously needed help because it was loose. That little girl inside me?  She awakened.  

I watched it for a moment before Brendan noticed an evil, black, cat stalking the chicken. 

Well, I wasn't going to let that tragedy happen, so I ran outside in my red and yellow socks, black and gray polka dot pj bottoms, and a gray and blue striped sweatshirt, looking good as always.  Luckily, no one else was out. (Or unfortunately for them! Ahem).

I ran across the street and tried to shoo away the cat and catch the chicken.  The cat melted my heart, it was so sweet.  The chicken ran away.  I went home, but I couldn't stop looking out the window.

I kept watch through out the morning.  At one point I watched as the chicken crossed the street (without looking both ways, I might add) to our side.  I ran out, thinking it was looking for me.  It wasn't.  It ran away.  I ran after it.  Still in the above described outfit.  Finally, after several minutes of herding the chicken, I tricked it into coming into our yard.  And then I shut the door of our white picket fence. It kind of sounded like an iron door closing.  Welcome home, chicken.

I then obsessively watched the chicken from window to window as it explored our yard.  Brixton was interested for a minute, but I was a little bit too invested.  I opened all the blinds half way so I could keep an eye on my new friend.

We went to church, then I decided it was time to find the chicken's real home.  I found a neighbor, who pointed me in the direction of another neighbor who was rumored to have chickens.  

I walked.  I knocked.  A guy sporting 1988 metal hair came out.  "Do you have chickens?" I asked.  "Yeah." He said.  "I've got one of them in my yard right now."  

He brought a rake.  The chicken left, squawking and running away from him.

I thought my chicken days were over.  Until that evening when Brendan came inside and said, "Kelley, your chicken's back."  Indeed, a mother and daughter found the chicken trying to crawl under our fence.  That's right!  She wanted to come back to me! She liked us!  

I named her Coco.

For two days and two nights Coco lived with us.  She slept in the garage and enjoyed her days in our yard, chasing bugs, sitting in the bushes and standing at our glass door, staring at us in an almost unsettling kind of way.  

The second morning, I went out to sprinkle some bird seed for her.  As I finished up tossing it I noticed a man and a woman standing on the sidewalk to my right.  The man had a rake, the woman a net.  

Guess her owners finally missed her.

After explaining I knew they'd come back for her and we'd just been watching out for her in the interim, the owners came in the yard to get her.

"Come here, Coco."  I called.

Yes, I called a chicken.  A chicken that didn't even belong to me.  I realized all this in about 1.3 seconds.  Feeling red in the face and a bit like a chicken thief, I had to explain I named their chicken, you know, the one I wasn't planning on keeping..??

Coco left that day to provide eggs for other people.  People with metal hair and wispy fairy skirts.  People who let their chicken stay outside for over 48 hours without coming to look for her.  People who clearly don't name their chickens.  

I miss you, Coco.

November Stuff

I've been kind of quiet on here lately, but there's a good reason.  I spilled chicken noodle soup all over my laptop and it died.  I'm very sad, but trying to take advantage of the Black Friday sales and get a new one soon.  

Chicken noodle soup.  Cold cure/laptop killer.  Who knew?

(Secret: I'm kind of excited to get a new one!  The B key was broken and the thing was major glitchy.)

Our house has been a major time suck lately too.  Obviously moving brings upheaval into your life, but with a toddler it's even more daunting.  The house is about 70% done, but that last 30% is going to take some time.  I'm hoping to have it all done before Christmas.

Christmas--we are going to Florida and we are excited!  We haven't seen Nana since Brixton was a week old, so it's been a while.  And I love Florida.  The Spanish moss.  The water.  The people, all tan and happy.  I love seeing Brixton's Nana.  It's just a fun time.  Hopefully I'll see a manatee again.  You never know.

Before we go I'm getting my hair chopped a little.  Just about 2 inches.  Ever since I got my hair highlighted a month ago, the ends look fried and I get THE WORST tangles in my hair.  The other night it took me about 15 minutes to get a major tangle out.  I was so mad.  I don't know why this is happening all of the sudden.  Maybe the highlights dried my hair out and made them more susceptible to tangling?  In any case, the ends are begging for a new start.  

I'm in utter and complete denial that the holiday season is here.  I ordered my Christmas cards via Zazzle via Groupon, so at least that's done.  But shopping?  Ha ha ha. I have no idea what to do.  I did hang some Christmas lights outside the other day.  I love that.  It's the first time I've had a house to do that with.  I think I could really get all Clark Griswold on the house if Brendan trusted me enough with a hammer and a step-ladder.  

After the post where I cried about Brixton waking up early, the past two days he's slept till almost 8.  YES!! Let's hope I didn't just jinx it..

I've had a post in my draft box for a week now, but it's a long story, so I hope to finish it soon. It's kind of a funny story. 

Hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving!

I Curse You, Time Change

Since day one, Brixton has been a champion sleeper.  He would wake, almost without variation, every 3 hours as a newborn.  Even in the early weeks (and with Brendan's help) I was able to get about 7-8 hours of sleep a night.  I never suffered from the new-mom zombie period.  

As he grew, he continued to impress us with his sleeping skills.  Waking at 7:30 or 8 was his norm, even when he was going to bed at 7:30 pm.  On some magical, rare occasions, he'd even sleep in until 9 am.  

And daily naps of at least 1.5 hours.

We knew we were lucky.  We'd heard the stories.  We'd seen the empty parent-eyes, void of sleep, but full of delusion.  I always warned Brendan, Don't get spoiled, this could change at any time.

I was right. 

In normal circumstances, the fall time change is my friend. Sometimes it even occurs on my birthday and gifts me that extra hour of sleep, plus what feels like the longest day ever.  It's part of the holiday season as far as I'm concerned. 

This year was no different, except we knew Brixton wouldn't be waking at 7:30 anymore--it would be 6:30 technically, but I was confident that all this would settle back in and he'd get back to normal within a week. 

It's not working.  

What started as waking around 7 has slowly morphed into 6:45, 6:30, 6:11, and even a mind-numbing 5:50.  Now that we are about two and a half weeks in to the time change, I know this is our new normal.  

New normal:

-Playing the "I can pretend I'm asleep longer than you can" game with Brendan.  Winner gets to stay in bed while the loser has to go get the baby. Sometimes played in conjunction with the "I didn't smell he had a poopy diaper/my sinuses are clogged in the morning" game.

-Laying in bed praying that God will grant us one amazing day where Brixton falls asleep next to us unexpectedly for a few more hours.

-Accepting the grim reality that Brixton is actually just going to crawl over my face/pull my hair/hit me/cry for stuff he can't have on my nightstand until I come to terms with the time.  

-Hearing the noises of breakfast being pulled together and a baby screaming at sub 7am, and then realize suddenly that I am standing in the kitchen with a toaster-ready waffle in my hand and only one sock on.

-Repeating the phrase, "Three cups of coffee isn't a lot" several times each day so I can begin to believe it.

-Having to turn on lights because the sun hasn't quite come up yet.

Anyone have anything to add here?  I need to get back to my coffee and my 18 month old, who is currently running laps around the house with a plastic bag containing a poo diaper securely wrapped inside.  

Oh, and good morning.  

Our House is a Very, Very, Very Fine House

We've been in our new old house for two weeks now.  I'm pretty shocked at how much we've already gotten done, despite "somebody" constantly clinging to my leg or demanding a 47th book reading, or just plain acting like a baby.  And then there's Brixton.  

What started off as a huge lump of cardboard boxes and jumbled furniture has transformed in a cozy home, a place of refuge.  Living in a proper house again just feels so good.  The space to stretch out, to organize things, to not feel like you are crammed together, is wonderful.  Old houses suit us.  The nooks and crannies waiting to be filled with sitting chairs or plants.  The mud room with the slanted floor. The big old claw-foot tub.

Today the weather is supposed to be unseasonably warm.  Brixton and I are going to hang some bird feeders out on the trees around the house, hopefully encouraging the bright cardinals to come visit us in an otherwise very colorless winter.

While we've made a lot of headway, there's still a lot to be done.  I have on my list the need to make a list of everything that still needs to be purchased, what needs to be organized, what needs hanging or stowing or selling.  

The best part?  No ghosts.  I would have known by now.

 

Celebrity Sightings

Last night I met up with some new lady friends for dinner in my new town.  I love our new town, by the way.  It's quaint, has a Starbucks 4 minutes walking from my house, a park 5 minutes walking, and everything shop or service you would need within 10 minutes.  It's a great place.

Anyhoo, we decided to wander down to this "all chocolate" dessert place to end the evening with something sweet.  The place was almost empty, so we ordered our various poisons and took a seat next to a little fireplace.

About 10 minutes after sitting down, I became aware of a group of people sitting behind us.  I turned to look and was struck by a blonde lady.  Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, she had big blue eyes, was wearing those uber-trendy "nerd" glasses, and was hanging with a little boy and a few older guys.

I kept staring because my brain was making me stare.  The "face-recognition" portion was firing.  Ding.  Jenny McCarthy.  Yep.  Solved.  That's her.  I turned back around to my group.  They figured it out seconds after I did.  Our lively conversation halted and an awkward silence punctuated with whispers hung over our corner.  

We got over it.  And then Jenny (totally on a first name basis now) left and we were like, Whoa!  

I love seeing celebrities.  It's like seeing an alien or something.  I've seen a few in my day and while I used to get a bit starstruck, now I'm like, oh, what?  You're just a normal person? Your skin isn't always airbrushed?  

And now my list of seen celebrities:

-Flea, from Red Hot Chili Peppers.  I was 16, on Spring Break with my family in Hawaii.  I was walking down a side-street alone, when a guy passed me.  Instantly, I thought, "That's Flea."  I kept walking.  Then I turned around to look at him again.  He turned around too, because he knew I knew.  We smiled at each other.  I walked on.  Later it was confirmed when I heard on the radio that the Red Hot Chili Peppers where playing a concert that night in Honolulu.  

When I was 20/21, I worked for a spell at the front desk of the Hyatt in downtown San Diego.  We saw quite a few celebrities there:

-Stephen Baldwin (bluest eyes ever)
-Brian Austin Green
-TLC (except Left Eye wasn't there...I wouldn't have even recognized these ladies.  They looked utterly normal).
-Coolio
-Natalie Imbruglia (She was with a posse of other ladies and they came up and asked me what time it was.  I answered, then looked at her.  She was stunning.  It was like she was glowing or something.)
-Run DMC (Totally normal people.)
-Matthew McConaughey (I had no idea who he was.  No clue.  Until one of the other front desk gals had to go to the back and swoon.)
-R Kelly (I know.  Gross.  He called the front desk and I talked to him.  He was all smooth and like, Hey girl, and not in a Ryan Gosling kind of way).  

I stayed at the Hyatt for my wedding and while checking in, the one and only Mr. Ed McMahon was checking in next to me.  It was fun to watch people walk by him and do a double take.  I think that's the most fun part of the whole thing, is seeing how people react.

I also once attended a SDSU basketball game with an ex.  A bunch of people kept turning around and looking just past us.  Quite a few people came up to someone behind us and wanted to say hi or get something autographed. 

It bugged.

I had my ex turn around and see who it was.  It was the professional golfer, Phil Mickelson.  Now, I could care less about golf and although I recognized the name, it didn't mean anything to me.

After another fan left I turned around, tapped him on the knee and said, "Don't you get sick of all that?"  

He totally wanted to say yes.  He did that side to side with the head and said something that I've forgotten now.  Years later, all I can think of was that I had the gall to touch his knee (which is probably insured for like 10 million dollars).  He wasn't famous to me, he was just a person. 

I think that's it. 

Do you have any celebrity sighting stories?  

The Heart of Christmas--3 Winners Giveaway!

Christmas in October?

No, I'm not talking about the holiday aisles at Target, I'm talking about the uplifting true story of the Locke family.  Faced with devastating news about their 3 year old son, they decide to hold one last Christmas for him to celebrate. 

The Heart of Christmas chronicles a young family as they battle a rare form of leukemia that their young son, Dax, was diagnosed with.  Along with fighting the disease, they also work to keep their optimism no matter the situation.  I was touched with the way the film portrayed women: coming together, supporting each other, and working together.  This is in stark contrast to so many other films out there today that pit women against each other to compete or tear each other down.  

The Locke family learns about the power of prayer, the kindness of strangers, and the importance of friends and family.  While the ending is not what we would hope for, we can all take away a message of hope, courage, and grace.  

The film?  An absolute tearjerker.  5 minutes in and I had to hit pause to go grab some tissues.  Now I am sorely tempted to go wake up my little love bug and shower him with kisses and hugs. The takeaway?  For me at least, it's a reminder that we should not take our children, our spouses, our friends and family, for granted.  

3 lucky readers can each win their own copy of the film!  Hooray!  All you have to do is leave a comment with your name and email.  That's it!  

I will post the winners next week! Good luck!

***THIS GIVEAWAY IS NOW CLOSED!***





 

"Happy" Halloween

Brixton's under the weather, so our Halloween ideas flew right out the window.  I dressed him up purely for pictures and so we could sit together on the couch and watch It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown together.  

He's going to throw that Tootsie Roll Pop in my face in 3 minutes..and no, I don't give him candy like that normally.  Maybe I should start?

 We went outside for 15 seconds. Just long enough to smell the burning pumpkin candles and see the fun we couldn't join.

 He insisted on me holding him, along with having his teddy.

Hope your Halloween was just as successful as ours!!