Holiday Wreath Tutorial for the Anti-Martha

About a year ago I complained that I have a long to-do list when it comes to creative projects. I tend to buy materials for things and then never follow through. Paintings for KC’s room are the most unfortunate of my forgotten projects and my most recent is a step stool Ted built for her to use in the bathroom that I am supposed to paint with decorative cuteness. I want to finish it very soon because she really needs it to reach the sink. It’s been in the garage half primed and sanded for over a month now.

I do have one major success to report, however. Behold. A lovely autumn-themed wreath, just in time for Halloween and Thanksgiving. It only took me a year to finish.

Why, yes! Those ARE cattails!

It’s your lucky day because I am going to tell you exactly how to make one of these beauties for yourself.

Step 1: Go to Michael’s or whatever craft store is near you.

Step 2: Start looking at more beads you’ll never get around to using before steering yourself toward the holiday section for what you really came for. Find oddly expensive, twiggy-circly thing that you probably could make yourself if you tried hard enough.

Step 3: Wander aimlessly through the floral section of Michael’s completely aghast at how many varieties of fake foliage there are. Agonize over the cheaper foliage vs. the much nicer looking expensive crap accents that you know will make the difference in the end. Compromise by buying some cheap and some expensive accents. (You still need money for Christmas presents after all.)

Step 4: Go home and look at all the twigs and folliage. Scratch your head as you realize you have no idea how you’ll put it together in anything resembling a quality wreath decoration. Contemplate this for a few days then just stick two pieces of the berry-thingies in either side of the wreath. This twiggy-circle format seems to be ideal for this method, however it’s important to note that this may not hold for more than one season.

Step 5: Give up for a while and leave it sitting on the counter. Get sick of moving the thing all the time and stash it away on a high shelf in the laundry room. Forget for a few weeks.

Step 6: Have an ephiphany and realize “This must be why God invented floral wire!” Go buy some at Michael’s.

Step 7: Take a break for a few more weeks. You’ve totally earned it. Meanwhile, be sure to forget where you put the floral wire.

Step 8: Endure teasing and smart-ass remarks from Husband about that wreath you will never make. Plot his untimely death.

Step 9: On almost the one year mark from when you originally bought the bain of your existence wreath supplies, realize this is a 2nd chance to get it done by Thanksgiving. Buy some fancy ribbon to help finish it up.

Step 10: Grab a drink.*

Step 11: Decide floral wire is for amateurs anyway and simply stuff the remaining foliage in the twiggy holder/wreath then wrap the fancy ribbon around the stems connecting them to the wreath in whatever direction seems appropriate to balance the shifting foliage.

Step 12: Tie a knot and slap one last decorative ribbon on the front to camouflage your ingenious support system.

Step 13: Use another piece of ribbon at the top in a loop to make the hanger and put that bad boy on the front door. Sit back and wait for the inevitable praise.

That’s it! Thirteen steps in honor of Halloween and the fact that I honestly believe crafts like this are the tool of the Devil. Yet, come the holiday season, I’m always compelled to try one or two of them with relative success. Happy Autumn!

*I recommend Blue Moon’s autumn brew, Harvest Moon. A delightful pumpkin ale. Don’t worry, it doesn’t actually taste like pumpkin.

Do the clothes make the girl?

Because, if so, KC and I are in trouble. We are both having pants issues. I purchased a pair of jeans (ok two) recently that were clearly too baggy for me. Standing still in the fitting room and eyeballing myself in poses I never make in real life, I decided that the bagginess was worth the “rear view” if you get what I’m saying. (Hint: they made my butt look good. I think.) Reasoning that stretch denim always shrinks, I purchased them and promptly washed one pair in hot water the next day. I now have a pair of jeans that is still baggy, but is now also just a little shorter than I’d like. Great.

I seem to have this issue with pants a lot. Sometimes I find the perfect pair, but normally they are either too small or too big. Often the ill fit doesn’t become really apparent until I wear them for one day. I come home to find my mirror image has gone from “denim diva” to “wrinkly, mom-jean wearing dork”. I have given a lot of jeans to good will.

KC is in this place with me right now except that she’s powerless. I buy all her pants. I buy them without her. I eyeball what looks like a good fit only to find she will grow out of them inside a month, or they are much longer than she is. Most recently I bought two pairs of pants at Carter’s that have no waist. I didn’t notice it before, but they don’t taper in at the waist at all. They actually get a bit wider. She wore them to Grandma’s and just walked right out of them on the spot. My daughter is two and has not got the hourglass figure of girl just yet, but she still needs some kind of mechanism to keep the pants on. (Hello? Elastic?) I don’t think she would put up with suspenders at this point in life. She barely puts up with the pants.

Clothing is frustrating at this age. Since they walk and run you really have to make sure it fits and is comfortable. It’s of even more importance than my own clothing actually. I am only just starting to realize this fact. Babies are easy. They can be wrapped in pools of extra fabric with rolled sleeves or legs. They just lay there so who cares?

Next time around I’m just going to recycle old pillow cases. I’ll cut neck and arm holes. Wa-la!

At this very moment I am heading to Old Navy to check out their toddler clothing. They always seem to have functional stuff. Fingers crossed I don’t waste any more money. The people at good will are going to love me otherwise. I don’t keep receipts for very long. (And by “long” I mean for more than 24 hours.) I am a compulsive thrower-outer. Ever see that new show Hoarders? I am the anti-hoarder.

Speaking of which, I also need some big plastic bins to store some of KC’s old clothes in. I feel like I should keep some of my favs in case we do have another girl someday. Surely I’ll be glad I did. However, the urge to purge them all, or at least most of them, is very strong. Very strong indeed. Maybe I’ll deflect this urge by organizing the all the paperwork piled in my office into file folders. Who am I kidding? I’d just toss most of it out. I can already hear Ted: “Hey, Jen. Have you seen the warranty info for the washing machine?”

Um. I have NO idea where that is. I think I saw you with it last. As a matter of fact, I’m sure of it.

Let’s hear it for the boy!

My husband rocks. He got the playhouse put together in two evenings and even got to put the clear coat on it just like the brochure said he should do. He also (finally) finished two wooden chairs for our kitchen table that came a few weeks ago that we desperately need for the party tomorrow. He is the man. KC’s new playhouse is AWESOME. And here I was saying how it was going to be the thing that went awry because of Murphy’s Law and fate and yada-yada-yada.

We are totally ready for the party tomorrow. I spent all day cleaning and shopping. I just have to pick up the sandwich platters and the “Finding Nemo” themed cake that GIANT FOOD IS MAKING. NOT ME. Oh. Crap. That’s going to be the thing that goes wrong isn’t it? They are going to forget about our order. Or maybe the cake will say “Happy Retirement Bob!” Actually, that would be kind of funny. Just the thing Ted and I would get a kick out of.

Hell, even if they do screw up my party platters it won’t be the end of the world. I’ll just buy some deli meat and toss it all together. The way the food looks doesn’t matter because, SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS. LOOK AT THE AWESOME PLAYHOUSE.

It has a mailbox. Which KC immediately put dirt and rocks in. Duh.

This thing is tall enough that I can stand upright in there. I can't do anything else, but still.

He’s a good Dad. KC and I have decided to keep him.

Countdown to the Big T-W-O

KC officially turns two on Monday, Sept. 14, but we are celebrating with friends and family this coming Saturday. This week begins my list-writing and hand-wringing over whether we will have what we need and whether we will be able to fit everyone inside our house if the weather is bad. I’ve counted up almost 30 people including small children and babies. It’s pretty imperative that we can utilize the patio out back. The forecast says it will be warm and sunny but that could totally change by the weekend.

It’s really hard not to over-invite people to something like this. We could keep it to just family, but that would be too simple. Inevitably we start with the “We should also include so-and-so…and if we invite so-and-so then we should ask this person too…” Then there’s the impromptu verbal invites of neighbors at the last minute. Especially those with kids who we want to be friendlier with. I’m a little worried, but even if it’s crowded, it should still be fun.

Note to self: GET LOTS OF BEER & WINE. Open the garage to the guys who hate these types of parties, but come anyway because they are really good friends. And, for the love of God, don’t forget favors that the kids can actually play with. NOT candy. There’s enough crack sugar in cake as it is.

One thing that I’m very happy about is the fact that GG and Gramps (my mom and dad) will be there this time. They leave Minnesota today as a matter of fact. Initially, they planned to stay up there into October, but unusually cold weather (even for northern MN) and other issues made them decide to start home early. They missed her 1st Birthday party last year and I was starting to feel guilty about planning her 2nd before they got back again this year. The truth is, they are far too awesome to actually be upset about stuff like that. This laid-back quality is one of the many things I love about my parents. If they hadn’t been able to get back, KC and I would have traveled to the beach as soon as they came home and celebrated a 2nd time just like we did last year.

Back to the planning of this shin-dig. You’ll be happy to know that I won’t be attempting to make a cake again this year and neither will “F***ing Betty Crocker”. HE firmly stated that trying was not worth the trouble and potential for disaster. Maybe you are disappointed that there won’t be a story about how I screwed up another cake. Don’t worry, I’m bound to mess up something else. Or, perhaps this year it will be Ted who has a party-related mishap. We did just receive KC’s present, a wooden playhouse that has to be put together. From the look of it, there are a lot of parts and some notes in the fine print about how you should put some kind of weather-proof clear coat on it every couple of years. Awesome. Ted is very handy so it’s sure to be fine. Then again…the ordering of it went smoothly and the price was amazing, so you just KNOW there is bound to be something about this house that is going to SUCK. I hope I’m mistaken about that. We shall see…stay tuned.

Redefining the Tossed Salad

KC is very passionate about food. She loves to eat it, hold it, squish it, play with it and, often, wear it. Typical for a child so young I suppose. I should probably try to encourage better table manners. I should make her wear a bib and eat from a plate. I should help her practice using her forks and spoons. I occasionally do those things. I swear. Ok, maybe not the bib part. We gave up on those a while back.

In retrospect, giving her an entire plate of salad was probably not a great idea. But, come on…how funny is this? And, yes. Those are red onions in her hands. Turns out she loves them. I brushed her teeth extra hard that night. Twice. Baby stank breath is not so funny.

The Joy of Eating

To wear your salad is to really know your salad.

Maybe she’ll be a chef someday. I just hope she develops more sanitary methods of food prep. I don’t think the Board of Health will approve of this. Sigh. True artists are seldom understood.

Cop-out. (Or, why I am a lazy-ass and didn’t blog on the most important Mom day of the year.)

So this is a blog about being a mom. Mostly, anyway. Of all the days I should have posted, yesterday (being Mother’s Day) was definitely up there near the top. Maybe right under KC’s Birthday. Instead I played with her and had brunch with my own Mom. I know, selfish. Right? I should have been up at the crack-o-dawn writing eloquent and sentimental lines about what a joy it is to be a mother so she can read it years from now. I should have written a poem about how amazing KC is and how much she’s changed my life. Mainly for the better. I mean, I kind of miss how my house didn’t used to smell like a diaper most days, but otherwise I really like having her around.

What? That’s my fault you say? For not emptying the Diaper Genie more often? Oh, well fine then. Just be quiet.

We had a great weekend. On Saturday, Ted, my Mom, KC and I went to a crawfish boil. We spent all day outside and got a little too much sun. KC stayed on the swings for almost the entire time. This is her new most favorite activity. Big thanks to GG, as she became the designated driver so Daddy and I could have a few beers at the party. GG is the bomb, yo. She was also the designated walker-arounder and swing pusher for a lot of the day. Grandmas totally rock. We came home, tired and burnt and just vegged out. Ted made us strombolis for dinner. He always cooks great stuff when my Mom visits. Even when he’s really tired.

On Sunday, Ted had to work some, which sucked. However, he made us dinner later so that was cool. My Mom and I took KC to brunch with girlfriends I had not seen in a very long time. It was really nice. KC ate bacon for breakfast and charmed everyone. It was totally crowded at the restaurant (On Mother’s Day! Can you imagine? Wierd.), but we got very lucky and were seated quickly. KC lasted longer than I thought she would at the table. She’s very full of energy these days. It’s like having a dog sometimes. You must let her run around and sniff touch stuff or she gets very cranky and starts yapping fussing.

GG left to drive back to her house not long after brunch. Daddy was still finishing a job for a neighbor. KC and I played, watched videos and, finally (and I do mean finally) collapsed on the couch at about 3:30 for a nap. Her restless little body stretched out along mine. Her chubby, little feet lined up with my…um…chubby, big feet perfectly in my line of sight. Yet another moment that made we wish for camera eyes. We stayed that way for about an hour or so. Breathing together, KC snoring a little bit.

We don’t do that very often anymore. She used to nap on my lap all the time as a little baby. These days, I usually snag the opportunity to coax her into her bed so I can have time to myself. However, sometimes it just feels nice to be close to her. Besides, it’s the perfect excuse to lay around and do nothing. It’s also the perfect time to reflect on the fact that these days are numbered. Napping with Mom won’t be high on the list one day soon. Her constant need for me can be difficult, but only sometimes. Mostly it’s wonderful and I want to remember to drink it in.

Totally Random Crap (a.k.a. I don’t feel like working at 2:30 pm on a Friday.)

I managed to knock a couple of things off that to-do list I shared the other day:

• I bought KC a cute red raincoat with pink polka-dots and some Hello Kitty rain boots. It abruptly stopped raining the very next morning. Sigh.
• I did get my sister-in-law a shower gift. The party is Sunday at my house and I am really looking forward to it. Especially the part where my house will be really clean and smell like a Yankee Candle. Seriously. If people didn’t visit me, I’d never clean. I hate to clean. This is a good thing.

*****

I have to go run 4 miles tomorrow morning. I did not do any exercise or training this week. I ate a lot of cookies though. I plan to go home and have one or two beers tonight. (Ok, three.) It’s sunny and awesome and is supposed to be sunny and awesome all weekend. Training be damned. I’ll just walk more than normal tomorrow. At this rate, I’ll never wear my old shorts and capris again. I might as well just throw them away and invest in numerous, brightly colored moo-moos. Sounds more comfortable anyway.

*****

I noted on FaceBook today that I am really obsessed with KC’s clothes. I love her little clothes so much that I even enjoy doing her laundry. What is that about? I daydream about what little outfits I might put her in the next day and the next. What will I do when she starts insisting on picking her own clothes? Maybe I can dress up the cats…

*****

Things are weird at my office, ya’ll. We’ve let go of some more people. It sucks. They assure us we won’t be going out of business. I believe it, but it’s still kind of scary. That’s all I’m gonna say about that. I have friends both here and at other companies that have lost jobs due to this crappy economy. I am grateful I haven’t lost my job yet. I will sit tight, hang on and just assume we will survive. This crap has got to get better soon, right? This subject is a downer. Moving on…

*****

Wolverine is totally hot. (Hugh Jackman to you non X-men fans.) Two of my co-workers and I discussed how we all agree on this point and that we should see the movie together. What about you? Do you think Wolverine is hot? Here’s a poll just for the hell of it:

Here’s what the to-do list of a proscrastinator looks like.

1) Buy KC a raincoat. For the love of God, she’s wearing a light-weight knit hoodie today, the wettest day I’ve seen in weeks. You’d think a woman who adores buying clothes for her daughter would have gotten this item by now. Plus matching boots and a little umbrella. If I wasn’t working I’d be at Carter’s right now.

2) Buy my husband a Birthday gift for his 35th Birthday, which is on Wednesday of this week. Less than two days away. I have plans to take him out to dinner using a gift certificate his parents gave us for our anniversary coming up in May. Aren’t I creative? I am, quite possibly, the worst gift giver ever. I always struggle with the perfect gift idea. I will probably be at Target on Tuesday evening trying to decide between a DVD or some other guy-like thing he really doesn’t need. Maybe I should just buy him a case of Guinness and a card and resolve to have sex with him that night. That would honestly make him more happy than a stupid DVD anyway. (Sorry, Mom and Ted’s sister as I’m sure you are reading and thinking, “Whoa! TMI.”)

3) Buy a shower gift for my sister-in-law. I manged to buy some stuff for KC instead while looking a few days ago. It’s possible I have ADD and it’s gone undiagnosed all this…oooh! Look a cookie! Where was I? Like I mentioned, I love buying clothes for my daughter. I used to love buying clothes for me, but KC is so much easier. Just grab cute things off the rack and go. No need to try it on! Except for shoes. That kid has really big feet. I’m sorry but it’s true.

4) Download the movies from my Flip camera. I have a bunch of silly stuff that I want to make into a montage of all KC’s adorable “first words” and funny sounds, etc. I should really get to it before she’s old enough to use them as “Show and Tell” for her 1st grade class.

5) Put some safety locks on the bathroom cabinets and the cabinet in KC’s room that houses the diaper cream, the baby shampoo and the powder. We covered the kitchen, I’m thinking if she’s curious enough to go into my purse and turn a USB flash drive into a lollipop, she’ll eventually figure out there are more places she’s yet to explore. I will also do well to realize that kid is taller than most 19 month olds and can, in fact, reach that beer I left a little too close to the edge of the counter top. How many sips does it take to get a baby drunk anyway?

And if that last one didn’t have you reaching for the phone to call some sort of local government authority…

6) I must take my 2 cats to the vet. I mean, seriously, it’s been at least 5 years. I think about it a lot, but just can’t make the appointment. Even though they are indoor cats, I realize the importance of having them checked on from time to time. Especially since they do escape at least once a month and as my Mom reminded me, “Rabbis” are very common in the VA area lately. She meant to write “Rabies” (sorry GG), but I totally got a good giggle from that email.  I also need a bigger kennel thingy for the fat one. He’s a monster. He hardly fit into the one I have now as a kitten. Plus, he pees in it while we are driving in the car. Every. Single. Time. Going to the vet is extremely annoying. Can you see now why I’ve avoided it? No? Well, fine.

In case you are wondering, KC has had all the shots she’s supposed to have up to this point. She might get rabies and fleas from my cats, or a good buzz from the backwash still left in my Michelob Ultra, but otherwise I take very good card of her. I swear.

Hair Today, More Tomorrow

Cats. Two cats to be exact. Two cats = lots of hair. Hair on the couch, hair on the beds, hair on the stairs and the floors. Some days I sit back with a beer and watch the hairballs spin and dance around on the hardwood, passing in and out of sunlight from the windows, like some dirty ballet.

I am not a good housekeeper. This I will admit right up front. I don’t get out the broom, nevermind the mop and soap, very often. It usually takes company coming over to get my husband and I to really clean the dirt up. I do plenty of laundry, clean dishes every day, and take out trash. However, stuff that requires real cleaning equipment (like spray bottles and sponges) gets shamelessly ignored for weeks.

Company coming over will most definitely get me to clean up, and especially to clean up cat hair. Most of the time I keep our guest bedroom closed so the cats won’t use it as their own personal bedroom. Sometimes, however, I forget and what results is completely disgusting. This bed appeals to our cats more than ours. And why not? It’s clean and made up every day. Our bed (mine and my husband’s) is a tangled mess of sheets that haven’t been changed since…well, we won’t go there.

While I’m talking about cats and beds, why, WHY I ASK YOU do they always choose the very top of the bed? The part that is folded over and will be in your mouth if you were to accidentally sleep in all that hair? Amazing. The least they could do is stick to the foot, or pull back the covers.

When I was pregnant with KC, I had the nursery all made up weeks in advance, like excited mothers-to-be typically do. Almost every day I’d peek in there at cute mobiles and tiny clothes just marveling at what soft, wonderful little creature would be in there very soon. Almost every day I’d look at the crib and see cat hair, and I’d marvel at why I still owned the soft, sneaky little creatures that insist on sleeping in it every day while I am at work. Little bastards. I must have changed that crib at least 4 or 5 times before my daughter was even born.

Back then I worried so much about how I was going to keep the cats out of her crib. Surely it can’t be healthy for a newborn to sleep in a cat-hair coated bed? (Not to mention the dirt they bring on their feet…and butts. Ew.) I’d have to keep the door shut at all times. I’d have to chase after my husband to make sure he also kept the door shut at all times.

It’s funny now to recall how freaked out I was about the baby being subjected to any pet hair, or dirt on the floors as she crawled around. One look at my house, if you come by without warning, and it’s pretty clear I’m not exactly offended by it myself. Happily, the presence of my daughter seems to turn the cats off her crib. It seems they like the beds no one else is using. Thank God. I would have gone (even more) nuts chasing them out and worrying that they were sneaking in with her at night.

I got pretty relaxed about all the dirt paranoia real quick with the baby. Funny how that happens. I do still, however, clean that guest bed like a maniac anytime my Mom visits, or if I even think a drunken stranger friend might need to stay the night. Dirt on my kitchen floor, scum in the toilet, grease on the counter top…eh. Don’t like it? Go back to your own house. But, that cat hair coat on the top of my guest bed? Or the sofa arm? Good Lord. Even I have my standards to uphold.

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This post was done as part of the PBN Blog Blast. Check out the Parent Bloggers Network at http://blog.parentbloggers.com. And here’s something fun for you pet owners. Pledge™ is giving your pets a chance to redeem themselves in their Show Off Your Shedder contest. From February 21 through March 21, upload a photo of your pet on his favorite piece of furniture, and you might win $5,000 cash and a year’s supply of the new Pledge™ Fabric Sweeper for Pet Hair. Visit www.showoffyourshedder.com for details.

Oops.

Well, it happened. I missed a day of blogging. Yesterday was filled with present wrapping, cookie baking and tree decorating. I also had to do a ton of laundry and start packing for our trip today. The disgusting amount of domesticity would have made me puke if it weren’t for the beer I was washing it down with. I was very tired last night. The tree looks great, however, and KC just loves it. She also slept the entire night. Of course, she stayed up until almost 10 pm.

I figured if I was going to miss a blog day this month it would be right about now. Although, I honestly figured it would happen at my parent’s house instead. I won’t let it faze me. I’ll try for every day in December except the 20th. That’s still pretty good, right?