Category Archives: Photo essay
Last night in an attempt to get the girls to SETTLE DOWN ALREADY JEEZ after they had their dinner so we could eat OUR dinner, I put on Rudolph. You’ve all seen Rudolph. You don’t need me to tell you what happens in Rudolph, but what I should tell you is that Roo asked me what my favorite part was and I answered her. But then I had to change my answer, and I had to change it AGAIN after that, and I realized I love this movie so damn much it doesn’t even make sense.
I mean, it’s AWFUL, this story. Rudolph’s father is unarguably the worst ungulate father ever to set foot on claymation earth. Santa is portrayed as a HORRIFYING snoutist with a murderous streak (OH YES) and an eating disorder. Poor Hermey is laughed at for wanting to be a dentist by a bunch of cavity-ridden elves in matching clothing. (We know the four elf food groups! No chance those clowns have decent chompers.) Then the abominable snow monster has them all ready to eat, and Hermey YANKS OUT ALL OF HIS TEETH. How does he even DO that? He doesn’t even have his LICENSE TO PRACTICE DENTISTRY YET.
But all of it, every last bit of it, is excusable in the face of Yukon Cornelius, THE GREATEST PROSPECTOR IN THE NORTH. I … well, I find myself proclaiming MYself the greatest prospector in the north fairly often. Whatever, Florida is north of some stuff. I could be a prospector. You don’t know me.
I told Roo the Bumble was my favorite part. I mean, Bumbles BOUNCE. That’s pretty impressive. He goes over a huge cliff, and then just BOUNCES. But also my favorite part is where they are all holed up in the cottage and turn off the lights to go to sleep and the second the lights are out THEY ALL JUST FALL ASLEEP INSTANTLY. It’s grand comedy!
BUT THEN I am completely forgetting the Island of Misfit Toys! That doll, there is nothing wrong with her. NOTHING. I have wanted one for my entire life, so much do I love that doll. And the spotted elephant, too. And the Charlie in the Box. HIS VOICE. His is the voice I use for any of my children’s stuffed animals I decide need an OBNOXIOUS personality. Let’s be honest, though. Some of those toys actually do suck. They DESERVE to be on that island. They probably all signed up to be there, even. Sent in audition videos and compete in challenges and I bet the squirt gun that shoots jelly wins EVERY single time because, seriously. How are you going to beat that, boat that can’t stay afloat? HOW?
Honestly, though, my favorite part. My absolute FAVORITE thing to come out of that movie. When Rudolph’s father shouts
HIS BEAK BLINKS LIKE A BLINKIN’ BEACON!
You guys. YOU GUYS. It’s brilliance. Read it back over. Take it in slowly. Yell it at the top of your voice.
So, yeah. Rudolph’s family shuns him and makes him wear a fake nose. He is only accepted back into the community when he SERVES A PURPOSE.
Santa manages to go from emaciated to fat in under 10 minutes (as do we ALL during the holidays, except for the starting out emaciated part.) The Misfit Toys get all emo around the campfire and assume Santa has forgotten them again.
But he picks them up! Happy ending!
OR IS IT?
Because then he delivers them via PARACHUTE. MISFIT TOYS! He is not giving you to children! He is HURLING YOU TO YOUR DEATHS. Everyone knows Santa goes down chimneys. He doesn’t just throw crap examples of shoddy workelfship out of the sleigh with toy parachutes on their backs!
See? MURDEROUS STREAK.
It’s not like she can look at a calendar, right? Except she SORT of can, and her big sister definitely can, and she’s a blabbermouth, but maybe it could work. Two is the absolute sweetest age. I don’t know that it’s the BEST age or even my FAVORITE age, but it is the sweetest. She still wants snuggles in my lap and she walks around the house dragging one of my old tank tops behind her. (She calls it her MMCH, formerly “lunch”, and bites on the strap while she falls asleep. It’s her last holdover from weaning over a year ago. She also sometimes calls me “Yum” or “Yummy” instead of Mom, and I pretend I don’t love it but I really really love it.)
It is impossible for me to talk about this child without sounding like I’m bragging. And FINE, maybe I AM bragging, but not in any sort of “don’t you wish this were your kid?” or “don’t you wish your kid did this?” way. I am just in awe of this child. The things she knows and says blow my mind on an hourly basis, and I can’t wait to see what her little brain becomes capable of in the next couple of years.
She knows most of the states by shape, and she insists on checking out a book on a different state each time we visit the library. She draws like a big kid and writes her name and her sister’s name and she’s memorized the words to every book she loves. She wants to be a Kindergartener more than anything and pulls up her little chair and a piece of paper to do her sister’s homework with her. Mostly I’m sharing that because I am going to forget all those things she learned when she was just two. I can’t remember what Vio could do at two, because it blended in to what she learned at three and four and now she’s in school and it all happens so quickly. Surely the first six months of their lives lasted longer than all the years that have gone by since.
Her love for her baby brother is ENORMOUS. I was so nervous she would be jealous, and I’m sure that will eventually hit (I know it often waits for age three, which, as I’ve mentioned, WE ARE JUST NOT DOING), but for now she chases me around the house while I carry him, shrieking, “Baby, come back! PWEASE, baby!” She thinks he is HER baby and refers to him thusly. As soon as she sees him, she tells him, “Oh, you are such a cute baby. I never knew a baby could be so cute. I MAY kiss you!” And then she kisses the top of his head and his whole face lights up. Then there are the times she lovingly pats him and tells him, “I didn’t know you would be a boy baby. I really wanted a girl baby.” So, you know. It evens out.
She calls Vio her “Sweetie”, and she can’t stand when she’s out of the house. Of course, as soon as Vio gets home from school, they are fighting like cats and dogs. Or whatever is worse than cats and dogs. Sisters, pretty much.
The very best part of my day right now is the hour or two we have in the morning while Leo takes his nap. We sit on my bed and play board games and ipod games and giggle. She routinely beats me at all versions of Memory (“Membery”) and excitedly chants “Come on, Donalds and cwubhouses!” while she shakes the dice for Yahtzee Jr.
She loves the color yellow and elephants, they’ve been her favorite for over a year, but now she’s suddenly telling me pink and giraffes. I just jam my fingers in my ears because that sounds like growing up.
She is fierce and fearless and everything I am not in so many ways and I love that so much I cannot even get out more than a measly run-on sentence about it.
I’ve never cut her hair. I call her my baby Rapunzel, and I’ll probably WEEP the first time it needs a trim. Well, the first time I admit it needs a trim. She’s asked for a haircut, like her big sister gets, and I’ve been telling her “when you’re three! when you’re three!”
So, really. It’s for the best I don’t tell her, right? I think one day she’ll understand.
One of the things I got for Mother’s Day was a homemade coupon to hop on over to Amazon.com and order myself some kitchen gadgetry.
I redeemed it within 10 minutes of getting out of bed. I’m not sure I’d even put my glasses on at that point.
There they are.
Kitchen gadgets are pretty much my favorite things in the whole wide world to buy. My life changed CONSIDERABLY the day my Microplane Zester arrived. And I haven’t been paid or compensated to say that. Pretty much The Pioneer Woman had one and so I wanted one too.
I’m an individual.
(Except when it comes to cooking gadgets.)
So now there is a cookie scoop, silicone baking mat, garlic press, and flat whisk just waiting to be packed together poorly in a box and kicked all the way to my front door.
I like to picture all delivery people like Jim Carrey at the beginning of Ace Ventura. (Pet Detective, of course. I haven’t watched the beginning of When Nature Calls in probably 10 years. I always skip the first chapter, because SPOILER the raccoon falling into the great abyss sends me to a dark, dark place. I also skip the first chapter of Finding Nemo. Now you know all my secrets.)
My mom won’t let me watch The Land Before Time because it makes her cry.
I’ve spent the rest of the day thinking up OTHER kitchen gadgets I didn’t think to order, but should have. Thus immediately refilling my wish list. It’s good to have goals and dreams, I always say.
For one, I need more cake pans. Which was painfully obvious to me today when I was making this ridiculously delicious banana cake that is supposed to be three layers, but I only have two round cake pans. Do you know what that means I had to do with the rest of the batter? I had to be a big, fat hypocrite, that’s what. I made cupcakes.
Sometimes I am so disappointed in me.
But, if you have three cake pans and some rank old bananas, I definitely recommend this recipe.
Though I don’t recommend my photography skills.
And, to be EVEN MORE exact, picture takes taken by Vio with her very own little kid camera. They come in several varieties.
1. Pictures that are so indecipherable, even CSI’s magical ENHANCE would do nothing.
So CSI:FL’s filter is PINK. Good to know.
2. Artistic self-portraits.
Preschooler Twitter avatar.
3. Pictures I’m pretty sure Roo took.
NOMMABLE TOES OMG.
4. Pictures of us making ridiculous faces.
I have about 800 pictures of this exact face.
This picture tells you everything you need to know about my dad.
5. Pictures utilizing her camera’s janky stamping/effects feature.
That’s a whole lotta me, first thing in the morning.
She literally laughed for 5 minutes after taking this one. “She looks like a BABY!”
6. Pictures that I will treasure forever.
My mom and Roo.
My dad’s toes vs. Vio’s toes.
Matt making breakfast.
7. Pictures that are inappropriate for one (or more) of several reasons.
First of all … yeah. Second: How many dogs, how many cups?
More quick takes here. Cheers!
Dudes. I am not much of a shopper. My wardrobe is … pure mom. Mostly. I never buy pretty clothes because they get destroyed EEmediately. And it’s rare I go somewhere that requires pretty clothes.
But then I get invited somewhere, and I panic — BECAUSE I HAVE NO PRETTY CLOTHES.
So I sort of forced myself. To look at pretty clothes on the internet. Because that’s apparently a hard thing to do. This is what I came up with:
1. Window Shopping Tee, by Fossil; 2. Clean Bermuda Short, American Eagle; 3. Flutter Sleeve Top, Gap; 4. Floral Linen Blend Whirly Skirt, Old Navy; 5. Plaid Split-Neck Top, Old Navy; 6. Daisy Floral Short Sleeve Shirt, by Tommy Hilfiger; 7. Glam in Bloom Sandals, by Kenneth Cole Reaction; 8. Beda Dress, Anthropologie.
Now I want to buy all of these things. The pretty!
So how about you? What’s your ideal spring/summer wardrobe?