She's winning

Open letter to the irrational terrorist who sometimes sleeps in the room next to mine:

First you win me over with your delicious jelly-roll thighs and ridiculous curly red hair. Sure, I questioned your genetic origins, considering the fact that your blue eyes seem to be for keeps. Remind me again how a Greek man and a French woman came together to make an Irish baby? Never mind, it's not important. The point is, even when I question our kinship while you scoop out a fist full of butter cream icing from your mouth in complete distaste (yeah, cause that's totally gross), I still love you with every ounce of my being. Corners of my heart I never knew existed burst at the very site of a naked you in the bathtub. I ache for you at the end of my workday. I am downright giddy as I round the corner to your preschool because it means I'm about to feast my eyes on the most magnificent being to ever grace my life. The point is, you had me from the get go. From the odd one-eyed stony stare you shot my way as I came out of my post-Cesarean haze. Mine was hardcore infatuation from the beginning.

So I've got to ask: Why the total hose job? Now that you have me so completely boondoggled, now it seems time to break me down? Crush my spirit one pre-dawn morning after another? Leap from the safety of your crib to the lurking dangers of EVERYTHING OUTSIDE YOUR ROOM in the middle of the night? Now is the time to show off your seriously creepy super human strength as I dare to dress you for school, brush your teeth and change your diaper?

Does homeland security know nothing of the manipulative power of a two-year old? As a group they could surely protect our national secrets while putting to use the crazy charm that comes so naturally to torture those who wish us ill.

Wouldn't that be a more productive use of your time?

That's all.

Your ever-loving mama (or mimi as you've taken to call me throughout the day. As in "Mimi, get me some milk, dammit!" "Mimi, drive me somewhere, pronto!" "Mimi, quit sleeping on the job!")

I'm tired.

Party of one

Left to my own devices I go wild with the felt and paper products. I did, however, have the good sense not to touch that rotary cutter after a glass of wine. Did the solo mom thing all week and let me just say that is no party. But I did enjoy a couple quiet evenings of creative time. Solitude is a mysterious motivator for me.

I made another felt garland and a banner with Emerson's name - both for her upcoming birthday soiree. I suspect both pieces may become permanent features in her bedroom long after the festivities. All the oranges and yellows just feel so fresh and happy that I can't really imagine packing them up with the tables and chairs.

Wishing you all a festive weekend. I'll be checking out the many fabulous children's books you recommended.

Book love

Vintage Kids' Books My Kid Loves. Such a great blog and Etsy shop. I'm not going to lie. When I first stumbled upon this site, my first thought was "bummer, wish I had thought of that". But hat's off to her because she does a great job highlighting classic books that first sparked our young imaginations.

I highly recommend taking a peak at her finds. They will surely bring back heavy waves of nostalgia.

My mother recently uncovered these two childhood favorites and she handed them over for me to share with Emerson. As little e is currently going through a book page tearing phase, which sort of breaks my heart in pieces with every rrrrrip of the page, it will likely be a few years before I hand these lovelies over.

Did your parents save any of your beloved books? Will you be sharing them with your own children? I'd love to hear about your favorites.

Elleinad Spir has arrived

There are the friends we lunch with at work; the friends we meet for coffee and playdates and the friends we call upon in the middle of the night without worry of offending. I could not live without the ladies in that last category. And although I have not needed late night support for many moons it is those friends who would drop anything to hear about the latest life crisis throughout my teens and 20s who remain my solid sisters in spirit to this day.

Danielle lands squarely in that sacred group. Check her out - no doubt counseling a little chum through some preschool drama. She's been a good listener, that one, from the beginning. I could not be more excited to let you all know that she's joined the blogworld. Do check in with her at Elleinad Spir to see how this native Californian is managing a superb life in Oklahoma City with her awesome husband and beautiful boy.

Holy Cuteness

Custom cake topper handmade by CuteNation.

Big party planning going on over here. Emerson turns two in a few short weeks and we're throwing her a big soiree. First order of business is this little lovely. A hand-painted cupcake topper made in our little one's likeliness. I was thrilled when I received Leah's tiny work of art and can't wait to see it sitting atop a tower of sweets.

OCD starts early

Photo via Design Sponge.

Happy St. Patrick's Day, friends. Do you celebrate? Me, not so much. Although, all year round you can find me eye-balling patches of clover for one of the four-leaf variety. I've been mildly obsessed with this quest ever since I can remember. My preschool had a huge overgrowth of clover and I remember spending countless recesses combing through the weeds. Yep, I was that kid.

Do share your shamrock day traditions. I'd love to start fresh with a few that do not include compulsive behavior.

Show and tell

After mentioning this little tunic a couple weeks back I knew would eventually share a photo. I worked on this for a long time. Cutting, pinning and stitching and busting with pride with each finished pattern piece, shoulders with pleats and pin tucks, a front and back yoke with interfacing. All kinds of new techniques for me. (I even sewed the zipper in three separate times and not one tear was shed). I feel quite good about completing it. Even had a fancy outing last week with leggings and flats. More progress, friends.

Heroes

Joan Didion and Mary Karr. They sit high up on my literary pedestal. I worship at their altar of words. Seriously.

This week, I have been devilishly happy to climb into bed each night and open Ms. Karr's latest memoir. Not since "Liar's Club" have I been held so captive by writing. And yes, that there is "A Year of Magical Thinking." Can't tell you how not pleased my husband was to see this in my bag. He knows all too well my capacity for empathy. I can wallow in another person's misfortune like no other. Still have yet to crack it open. I remain afraid but feel a wee bit of strength each morning when I see it sitting there tempting some future act of bravery.

P.S. I met Mary Karr a couple of years ago. And you can imagine how poised I was as she signed my book, right? Yah, not so much. I was a trembling mess of adoration.

Making happy

The lovely Emily over at Wide Open Spaces has included me today in her feature "10 Happy Things." I'm so excited to be a part of her beautiful blog and spending several days focused on all the things that simply make me happy was a fascinating experience. I realized quickly that I have an abundance of stuff, people, pretty things, experiences and moments that make me really happy. What a good reminder.

I would highly recommend making up your own list. You may be surprised at how difficult it is to narrow it down to 10. Because looking at the list right now makes me want to yell "wait, what about rainbows, I love rainbows and books, too. And my girlfriends. I'd be a shell of a soul without my girlfriends." Too bad it couldn't be 100 things that make me happy. But please do take a peak and check out my list.

What's old is new again?

Did you guys hear the rumor about 90s fashion coming back in a big way? I have no sources to support this but I swear I've been spotting fleeting references to black nylons (or pantyhose, if you must, blah) and shoulder pads on several blogs.

And the day I see a black velvet mini cocktail dress down a runway is the day the fashion gods smile on me. You see, I rocked black velvet in every way imaginable during the early 90s. Am I alone? I presume not. The topper, of course, being the black velvet, strapless pantsuit/jumper with matching bolero jacket I borrowed from a friend to wear to senior ball. That was a hot little number. If I can get my hands on a photo from that evening I will surely post it here. That is if a few of you admit to some shameful fashion moments...

P.S. The photo is from a school dance circa 1991. Heads have been cropped to protect the innocent. Good times.

Notes from a birthday

This past Tuesday I turned 36. It was a day filled with the mundane and extraordinary experiences that make up a life. But I remain stunned by the whole of it and because I know no other way to tell this story I'll simply run down the highlights:

Happy morning with the family
Impromptu doctor's appointment to check out a strange pain
Mammogram
Very involved ultrasound involving a ruler
Untold birthday wishes from nurses and technicians reading charts
Twenty minutes literally laying in wait
Radiologist with bizarre sense of humor
Clean bill of health
My all-time favorite comfort meal
Cupcakes from my favorite bakery
Snuggle fest with Emerson
Champagne
Bit of sewing
Bit of sketching
Solo dance party in the garage
A heavy sleep

Any way I write this sounds like too much of a cliched understatement, but it has to be said. The events that unfolded throughout the day were strange and unexpected and frightening and clarifying.

I do not have breast cancer. I was pretty sure that I did for about five hours. I'm unbelievably thankful for the people I lean on in times of uncertainty and for my health insurance and access to quality medical care. I am beyond blessed in my life.

Pretty, pretty

Here are a couple of things that are making me smile. This sweet little bird was part of a trio from Melissa's beautiful shop. She reminds me to be peaceful and calm as I frantically shove plastic crap toys in the armoire at the close of each day.

The rings below are thanks to Emily's recent giveaway. I was the very fortunate winner of a $50 credit to her Stella & Dot shop. I finally selected two of the stackable rings and also picked up the Stella Vintage bracelet, which I cannot wait to wear. As is the case with both these lovely ladies' online boutiques, it is quite difficult to make selections. There is just so much pretty to chose from. I highly recommend a visit to each.

Pay no attention to the creepy old-lady hand. I swear to be only 36 and a daily wearer of sunscreen. Didn't exactly hit the genetic jackpot in the aging skin department.

Things could be worse

I spent a large part of this weekend in bed, on the couch or otherwise feeling sorry for myself. I have a bad cold or flu and it seems that with each passing year my capacity for self-pity when plagued with any illness continues to expand. In between delirious naps, I caught up on some serious wedding porn, a la Bridzillas, Platinum Weddings and Rich Bride Poo Bride. All thanks to the WE Network, which I think I should just black out from my Tivo box.

The wedding craziness made me think back to my own wedding. Which made me pull out my old wedding planning binder. Which made me pull out this tear sheet of my beloved dress. I ordered this before we decided on a location or a date or a theme. I fell hard for this dress. If I had a wedding to do over again I would probably go with a short dress and definitely a short veil. But if I were time-traveling back to 2003 I would love to step into this gown for one more night. It remains one of the most beautiful things I own.

Which reminds me of the point to this post. It occurred to me last night that I am quite happy not to be planning my wedding. I'm not worried about flower arrangements, family drama, a first dance. I am, however, highly concerned about the timing of my next nap. So things could be worse.