First, can I just say that Keith Urban's tour bus is in town, and probably nothing would make my life like Keith Urban wishing me a happy birthday? Hey, we've both got 13 month old daughters and he's already got a red-headed wife; I'm not looking to hook up. Maybe just a hug. Or a kiss on the cheek. You know, like, that spot right between the cheekbone and the lips.
Anyway.
At 7:30 this morning, Vee brought me coffee, a biker-themed birthday card, and the new Taylor Swift CD (OMG I don't think I have talked yet about how much I love Taylor Swift and how obsessed I am with the new Taylor Swift single "You Belong to Me"--another post, y'all, another post) and woke me up from a dream where I was getting ready for a new semester of college and Vee and I were commiserating over how "this year's crop of new students are actually ATTRACTIVE."
Even in my dreams, I knew I was getting ONE YEAR OLDER and ONE YEAR further away from the adult I was and into the adult I am.
I am twenty-seven today, y'all. That's right: this mwom-evader is revealing her age, forever more, on the elephant-never-forgets Internet, which will record this fact a lot longer than your memories.
I LIKE being twenty-seven. I like being in my late 20s now. And I want you guys to know that I'm 27 because when I haul out the list of things I'm proud of, foremost is that I've done them all by the time I'm 27.
Where am I on my "list of things I thought I'd have done by now?" Like I mentioned in a previous post, I don't have my masters and I sure don't have a baby on the way, but I have a house in a city I love, a 13 month old Kiddo that delights me daily, a solid job (almost FIVE FULL YEARS with them now) with people and a mission that I respect, a family I love deeply and grow closer to with each passing year, friends I can pick right back up with even though we live far apart, and a husband I adore, who I have adored for almost eight years, and who is truly with me in every step of my life.
I don't LIKE being twenty-seven. I LOVE being twenty-seven.
You've made it this far. That means something. It's MY birthday, and while I'm not going to pretend twenty-seven has made me all potlatchy, I can tell you this: there is an EVADING MWOM FIRST GIVEAWAY on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled and your blog readers updated. And thanks for sticking with me.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
All on the Fourth of July
Vee, Kiddo and I had a great Fourth of July with Gramma Goose, Grampa PhD, and AKA up in the Cities: we squeezed in an IKEA run, lunch out at my aunt & uncle's, several walks around the neighborhood, Kiddo's first conscious fireworks display (OMG, can I even tell you about last year for a second? We drove home from MN on the Fourth, and by the time we got home, she was crankdified and I could barely take her out on our deck so that I could see the fireworks.), and a great walk around Lake Calhoun.
Oh yeah, and VEE AND I GOT OUR FIRST NIGHT AWAY FROM THE KID!
As Vee's Father's Day gift, I got us a hotel room at the Hotel Minneapolis during one of our nights up with my 'rents. Yeah, I know, that seems counter-intuitive: to celebrate the fact that he's a father, he gets to spend a night NOT HAVING TO BE A FATHER. Tevs, doggy--it was rad. When we checked in, I had inexplicably received a $20 food credit (member of HHonors? Random 'First Night Away From Your Kid' fairy? I did not know, but I DID NOT CARE! FREEBIE!), so we had dinner in the hotel restaurant on the main floor. The Hotel Minneapolis used to be a bank, and YOU CAN TELL: huge marble columns everywhere, three-story-tall ceilings on the whole main floor, and yes, the rooms do appear to be former offices, no matter how much mod detailing they toss on them.
The coolest part was THE LIGHT FIXTURES! They had these gigantic metal circles strapped around the columns and red flat petals with lights extended beneath them, and the overall effect was THE COOLEST CORNER OF HELL (ironic, since Vee and I had breakfast at Hell's Kitchen the next morning, which did not appear hellish in any way other than the fact that it was in a basement).
(this is not us, but the cavalier attitude of these two urban twenty-somethings does mimic our presence that night. Except I was not drinking a three-years-ago Cosmo. Dude, get with the times and pimp one of your rad drinks, like the "Gatsby's Daisy" which I DID try, featuring green tea vodka, lavender simple syrup, and tarragon!)
My sister and her boyfriend met up with us a little later and we hung out in the bar portion of restaurant Max. After Vee pounded a Jameson on the rocks, he was out for the count and rowdily accosting Twins fans (Tigers v Twins was on the TV, and Vee is nothing if not Detroit-proud) between verbal assaults on the 60-something scraggly-haired "lawyer" (as he told our bartender) with the highest man-boobs ever (no, really, the dude HAD TO HAVE BEEN WEARING A MANSSIERE) who WAS IN THE BAR BECAUSE HIS 21-YEAR-OLD BRIDE-TO-BE was having her bachelorette dinner in the restaurant and I guess a certain SOMEBODY had to get involved (to the point of ordering Zombies for the whole table of giggling young Asian girls, which gave the entire affair a flavor of Mail Order Bride).
Anyway, it was great to have our first night off of Kiddokabiddo Night Duty after thirteen months, and when Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD picked us up the next morning, Kiddo was delighted to see us, but didn't really miss us THAT much. OUCH!
Great long weekend, easy drive home, but guess what DUMB THING WE DID?
Left VEE'S KEYS and MY CELL PHONE at my parents' house.
WELL DONE, WELL DONE!
Oh yeah, and VEE AND I GOT OUR FIRST NIGHT AWAY FROM THE KID!
As Vee's Father's Day gift, I got us a hotel room at the Hotel Minneapolis during one of our nights up with my 'rents. Yeah, I know, that seems counter-intuitive: to celebrate the fact that he's a father, he gets to spend a night NOT HAVING TO BE A FATHER. Tevs, doggy--it was rad. When we checked in, I had inexplicably received a $20 food credit (member of HHonors? Random 'First Night Away From Your Kid' fairy? I did not know, but I DID NOT CARE! FREEBIE!), so we had dinner in the hotel restaurant on the main floor. The Hotel Minneapolis used to be a bank, and YOU CAN TELL: huge marble columns everywhere, three-story-tall ceilings on the whole main floor, and yes, the rooms do appear to be former offices, no matter how much mod detailing they toss on them.
The coolest part was THE LIGHT FIXTURES! They had these gigantic metal circles strapped around the columns and red flat petals with lights extended beneath them, and the overall effect was THE COOLEST CORNER OF HELL (ironic, since Vee and I had breakfast at Hell's Kitchen the next morning, which did not appear hellish in any way other than the fact that it was in a basement).
(this is not us, but the cavalier attitude of these two urban twenty-somethings does mimic our presence that night. Except I was not drinking a three-years-ago Cosmo. Dude, get with the times and pimp one of your rad drinks, like the "Gatsby's Daisy" which I DID try, featuring green tea vodka, lavender simple syrup, and tarragon!)
My sister and her boyfriend met up with us a little later and we hung out in the bar portion of restaurant Max. After Vee pounded a Jameson on the rocks, he was out for the count and rowdily accosting Twins fans (Tigers v Twins was on the TV, and Vee is nothing if not Detroit-proud) between verbal assaults on the 60-something scraggly-haired "lawyer" (as he told our bartender) with the highest man-boobs ever (no, really, the dude HAD TO HAVE BEEN WEARING A MANSSIERE) who WAS IN THE BAR BECAUSE HIS 21-YEAR-OLD BRIDE-TO-BE was having her bachelorette dinner in the restaurant and I guess a certain SOMEBODY had to get involved (to the point of ordering Zombies for the whole table of giggling young Asian girls, which gave the entire affair a flavor of Mail Order Bride).
Anyway, it was great to have our first night off of Kiddokabiddo Night Duty after thirteen months, and when Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD picked us up the next morning, Kiddo was delighted to see us, but didn't really miss us THAT much. OUCH!
Great long weekend, easy drive home, but guess what DUMB THING WE DID?
Left VEE'S KEYS and MY CELL PHONE at my parents' house.
WELL DONE, WELL DONE!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
what a kitchen can make you (other than food)
It's been a long time since I've had one of those "Wow, THIS IS MY LIFE?" moments.
So I shouldn't have been surprised when it thwopped me.
I was standing at the stove, one arm akimbo, one arm holding up a bag of rice, staring out the window and waiting for the water to boil, my crazy Kiddo in a Little Swimmers disposable (awaiting tonight's swim class) wawitzing out at my feet, a brown plastic stirring spoon from my mom's old kitchen stuck in her mouth and trying to climb up the stove (it shows her her reflection, which is apparently irresistible).
I had just finished mopping up her PEE from the floor (she has a CHEMICAL BURN, which sounds so much more horrible than it is, but basically it's because of all the ammonia in her pee, and I was trying to give her booty some naked-baby-time so it could heal).
I just took a mental snapshot of my life, and WOW, when I knew I'd be 26, I didn't know it would look like this. Even if I was staying on the "schedule" I drafted at 15 of how my life was going look (which is to say: at 26 I would have a husband, a masters degree, one kid down and one on the way), somehow it was supposed to look a little bit different.
You know, like with glamorous adventures as a mom, or a kitchen view like the model kitchen I used to stare at forever when my parents would drag us to this one home store in Albany.
You don't understand--it was high ceilings, tall cabinets, an ULTRA-LUXURIOUS PANTRY with TWO SETS OF PANTRY DOORS! (where you open the outside doors and there are shelves lining them, but there is also ANOTHER set of doors with shelves and more shelves behind that...it was like an invitation to endless stockpiling), but the number one, ultimate, daydream-inducing thing about it was the view.
Ah, the view.
Outside your windows above the sink, a field of cultivated desert-field stretched out before you, undulating, rolling, and behind it, the beckoning peaks of snow-capped mountains. You could see one other house off in the distance, but you were pretty much out there on your own.
Could I write this off as just a corny stage-prop, a piece of cardboard that every store used in their "country kitchen" display?
No.
I was living in Oregon, and I was CONVINCED that this view REALLY EXISTED over on the other side of the Cascades, over there in Eastern Oregon, and somehow this store had imported the entire kitchen from a house because they just liked it that much, but before they hauled it up, they took a picture (to stay true to the kitchen's complete experience, of course) and blew it up.
That was my life, THAT was my destiny: if I was standing at my sink making rice, I was looking out the window at THAT.
(not quite right, but not too far off)
Or I could be in my prairie town, piss-soaked Kiddo and all, trying to see the horizon beyond the houses, still stretching.
So I shouldn't have been surprised when it thwopped me.
I was standing at the stove, one arm akimbo, one arm holding up a bag of rice, staring out the window and waiting for the water to boil, my crazy Kiddo in a Little Swimmers disposable (awaiting tonight's swim class) wawitzing out at my feet, a brown plastic stirring spoon from my mom's old kitchen stuck in her mouth and trying to climb up the stove (it shows her her reflection, which is apparently irresistible).
I had just finished mopping up her PEE from the floor (she has a CHEMICAL BURN, which sounds so much more horrible than it is, but basically it's because of all the ammonia in her pee, and I was trying to give her booty some naked-baby-time so it could heal).
I just took a mental snapshot of my life, and WOW, when I knew I'd be 26, I didn't know it would look like this. Even if I was staying on the "schedule" I drafted at 15 of how my life was going look (which is to say: at 26 I would have a husband, a masters degree, one kid down and one on the way), somehow it was supposed to look a little bit different.
You know, like with glamorous adventures as a mom, or a kitchen view like the model kitchen I used to stare at forever when my parents would drag us to this one home store in Albany.
You don't understand--it was high ceilings, tall cabinets, an ULTRA-LUXURIOUS PANTRY with TWO SETS OF PANTRY DOORS! (where you open the outside doors and there are shelves lining them, but there is also ANOTHER set of doors with shelves and more shelves behind that...it was like an invitation to endless stockpiling), but the number one, ultimate, daydream-inducing thing about it was the view.
Ah, the view.
Outside your windows above the sink, a field of cultivated desert-field stretched out before you, undulating, rolling, and behind it, the beckoning peaks of snow-capped mountains. You could see one other house off in the distance, but you were pretty much out there on your own.
Could I write this off as just a corny stage-prop, a piece of cardboard that every store used in their "country kitchen" display?
No.
I was living in Oregon, and I was CONVINCED that this view REALLY EXISTED over on the other side of the Cascades, over there in Eastern Oregon, and somehow this store had imported the entire kitchen from a house because they just liked it that much, but before they hauled it up, they took a picture (to stay true to the kitchen's complete experience, of course) and blew it up.
That was my life, THAT was my destiny: if I was standing at my sink making rice, I was looking out the window at THAT.
(not quite right, but not too far off)
Or I could be in my prairie town, piss-soaked Kiddo and all, trying to see the horizon beyond the houses, still stretching.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Oh, Michael.
I've been a Michael Jackson apologist since the first rash of child molestation charges back in the 90s, and the "interview series" in 2003 was so lopsided that I couldn't HELP but back up Michael.
Whether it happened, or didn't, I will always be broken down with compassion for Michael Jackson, that he felt like he needed to surround himself with children to make up for the childhood he didn't get. It doesn't excuse anything, it only hints at explanation, but his acts of recreating a childhood that didn't exist and trying to crystallize time have always made me want to cry with the futility of it all.
Michael, Michael, my very first crush-before-I-even-knew-to-call-it-a-crush, like the millions of people around the world, thank you for your music, your gift. I can't stop til I get enough.
Whether it happened, or didn't, I will always be broken down with compassion for Michael Jackson, that he felt like he needed to surround himself with children to make up for the childhood he didn't get. It doesn't excuse anything, it only hints at explanation, but his acts of recreating a childhood that didn't exist and trying to crystallize time have always made me want to cry with the futility of it all.
Michael, Michael, my very first crush-before-I-even-knew-to-call-it-a-crush, like the millions of people around the world, thank you for your music, your gift. I can't stop til I get enough.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Home Show: Master Bedroom is Mastered
Well, hi. What's due is what I'm about to do: to show you our NEWLY REMODELED BEDROOM AT LAST, even though we painted this sucker almost a solid month ago.
Your "Before" refresher?
Ok, that's a REALLY early "before"--note the co-sleeper that Kiddokabiddo has not slept in for a solid year and the lack of new furniture.
Let's try again:
So that's what we were living like up until the day before Memorial Day weekend. EHHHHHH.
What, pray tell, are we living now?
LA DOLCE VITA!
The paint? Olympic's "Caruso", and "French Riviera" as the wall behind our bed. We also bought a new summerweight comforter (Target) and the bed pillows, THE FIRST WE HAVE EVER OWNED, came from IKEA.
We installed an IKEA shelf over my dresser, brought in my long-suffering spider plant and bought a curly grass, and slapped up our other wall decal from Leen the Graphics Queen.
And our art. I'm proud of this since it didn't cost us more than $2.50. We already had the two big framed Yerba Buena and Yerba Mansa prints from Jill Bliss in our guest room (thanks Dad!), but when I moved them into our room, it felt really bare between them.
I, however, am a huge Jill Bliss fan and have been using her datebooks and stationery for years at this point, so I hauled out some unused stationery and notecards, ran down to Thrift America for some preowned frames, and GOT IT DONE!
Recession-era decorating! Reusing what you have! Vee was thrilled that I didn't spend a fortune!
I'm still lusting after the Douglas Fir poster for the guest room since the new decorating theme in there is THE NORTHWEST, but since I just bought a print from 20x200 for the guest room, I guess that will have to wait until the next pay month. In eight days.
Does anyone have any recommendations for TABLE LAMPS or mounted nightstand lights? I think that's the one thing I'm unhappy with so far. We have been using Vee's ancient old light literally since 2002, and I am tired of feeling like I am still in college.
Also, the wall our bed faces currently looks like this:
That's the hope chest my daddy made me as a wedding gift, and it's staying put and receiving glory for the rest of its life, and those are two IKEA mirrors set above it. We want to keep our room decor looking natural and prairie-like since, with the sea color and wavy mirrors, it's too easy to look beachy, which is TOTALLY NOT US.
So what can I do with this wall? Suggestions? Product recommendations? We're trying to keep it cheap, but inspire me!
Your "Before" refresher?
Ok, that's a REALLY early "before"--note the co-sleeper that Kiddokabiddo has not slept in for a solid year and the lack of new furniture.
Let's try again:
So that's what we were living like up until the day before Memorial Day weekend. EHHHHHH.
What, pray tell, are we living now?
LA DOLCE VITA!
The paint? Olympic's "Caruso", and "French Riviera" as the wall behind our bed. We also bought a new summerweight comforter (Target) and the bed pillows, THE FIRST WE HAVE EVER OWNED, came from IKEA.
We installed an IKEA shelf over my dresser, brought in my long-suffering spider plant and bought a curly grass, and slapped up our other wall decal from Leen the Graphics Queen.
And our art. I'm proud of this since it didn't cost us more than $2.50. We already had the two big framed Yerba Buena and Yerba Mansa prints from Jill Bliss in our guest room (thanks Dad!), but when I moved them into our room, it felt really bare between them.
I, however, am a huge Jill Bliss fan and have been using her datebooks and stationery for years at this point, so I hauled out some unused stationery and notecards, ran down to Thrift America for some preowned frames, and GOT IT DONE!
Recession-era decorating! Reusing what you have! Vee was thrilled that I didn't spend a fortune!
I'm still lusting after the Douglas Fir poster for the guest room since the new decorating theme in there is THE NORTHWEST, but since I just bought a print from 20x200 for the guest room, I guess that will have to wait until the next pay month. In eight days.
Does anyone have any recommendations for TABLE LAMPS or mounted nightstand lights? I think that's the one thing I'm unhappy with so far. We have been using Vee's ancient old light literally since 2002, and I am tired of feeling like I am still in college.
Also, the wall our bed faces currently looks like this:
That's the hope chest my daddy made me as a wedding gift, and it's staying put and receiving glory for the rest of its life, and those are two IKEA mirrors set above it. We want to keep our room decor looking natural and prairie-like since, with the sea color and wavy mirrors, it's too easy to look beachy, which is TOTALLY NOT US.
So what can I do with this wall? Suggestions? Product recommendations? We're trying to keep it cheap, but inspire me!
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