It was a rainy Sunday here at Casapinka so the girls decided to paint some birdhouses. We went to Michael's and got a few houses (including one that would take real birdseed) and got out our craft paint.
We were incessantly hounded by creative babies who were never able to foil our efforts (for the record that Exersaucer plaything is known as "The Office" as in, "Could you take Junior out from UNDER The Office and take him TO the office right NOW?" It makes the plasticy brighness more appealing - try it!)
Well, it rained and rained and Junior even managed to torture the cat on the other side of the door before we rescued her.
Here they are all finished and sealed.
And as the rain finally cleared and the birds came out,
we found that there was no tree left on which to hang the birdhouses; part of it had fallen in the storm. We couldn't even blame Junior because he was inside the entire time.
Artist Hadley Hutton dropped me a line about her summer sale which starts today. She has both original work and prints for sale. Her colors are so vibrant and beautiful and the encaustic wax gives them a deeper quality that canvas alone doesn't achieve. I never tire of looking at her beautiful work.
Hey folks, I've got the perfecto baby present for those of you on a budget. It's this Conair Gel-Grip brush. It comes with a nice little tag on it that gets a bit gummy when chewed, but so far no choking. Each bristle is perfect for baby's fingers to pluck like an intstrument, and the handle is great for teethers. All for $5.99. The BEST part by far, is that I haven't had to switch on the invisible fence once this morning; I'm even contemplating removing HODAD's collar, so great is this brush.
HODAD (his most oft used name at Casapinka) = Hands of Death and Destruction (in case I haven't mentioned this.)
IF you're looking for a present for mommy, these paintable Russian nesting dolls from The Wurst Gallery are a nice gift since she'll have loads of time on her hands since the baby will soon prefer the Conair brush to her boob.
I want to squirt this entire bottle down my throat to ease my pain. That, and seek out the wino in Walgreen's parking lot to beg, borrow or steal some calming substance in pill form. Too bad I have to attend husband's graduation tonight (sober.) Momma needs something, though, maybe just to share what happened to me an hour ago.
It stared when I was kept late at work because of a trauma patient. I called husband who was just leaving work. (Don't worry the kids do fine when we both work overnight. We lock the doors, leave out a bottle of formula and toss down some fishsticks. It's all good.) He was on his way to play golf with the other new grads and was able to go home, get the kids to preschool and daycare. I had just tucked myself into bed with a cup of moonshine tea when riiiiiiiiiing...."Uh, honey? I forgot to drop off Junior's formula with him."
That's right - I feed my kid FORMULA. See - I should have seen this coming.
When I arrived at Junior's little sitter/daycare place, he was in a playpen whinging and the owner's son was naked as a jaybird as she tried to give him a bath. That was cool - she keeps my kid and her own clean. Well, suddenly there was a dog yapping at my ankles (Dog? There's a dog here?) and I went over to give Junior a cuddle. Well, his head and hands REEKED of Pungent Dogturd (caps - I need caps today, sorry.) I looked into the depths of the Pak n' Play and Junior had been SNACKING on a piece of DOGSHIT. Rubbing it all over his face and head like his sister taught him with my lipstick. Seriously, the smell was like when you're in the car and you know someone has stepped in some dog doo and you stick your nose right into your sneaker and it turns out you are the offender? THAT'S what it smelled like. I almost got sick right there.
Instead, I gave him a bath in the sink, made my excuses and got the hell out of Dodge. I know it was an honest mistake but how can I take him back there?
I have never, ever, ever, EVER felt like a worse mother than I do at this minute, one hour after returning and putting Junior in a poop free bed. I am just SICK over this and sadly, Junior probably will be, too. All I can think about is: Ecoli0157:H7
Sometimes being a working mother sucks. Thanks for listening.
"Don't worry, Mom. A daily intake of dogcrap increases one's SAT score 200 points. You're the greatest."
I love bright colored jewelry like this chalcedony necklace with freshwater pearls, Russian amazonite bracelet and these vintate gold beads. This Etsy store is packed with pretty pieces that would make great gifts.
Liz Hickok casts cities out of jello and sells limited edition prints of them. Thanks to reader Erica for the link and here is an exerpt from the artist's website:
My current series, San Francisco in Jell-O®, consists of photographs and videos depicting San Francisco landscapes that I’ve cast in Jell-O. To produce the landscapes, I start by fabricating scale models of the architectural elements—like the Transamerica Pyramid or the Palace of Fine Arts—out of balsa wood or foam core. I then make molds from those models, which I use to cast the buildings. My process resembles constructing a movie set, or building a sculptural installation: I add hand-painted backdrops and elements like mountains and model trees, or even dry ice to simulate fog. Finally, I light the scenes dramatically from below. Each area of the city is a different Jell-O sculpture. I make some of the neighborhoods into videos, such as Telegraph Hill shaking in an earthquake, or the Marina District washing away in a Jell-O tidal wave.
Mom, if you really want to get this away from me you're gonna have to work at it, 'cuz baby don't give up kitty food.
I was carrying my camera on the way to the breakfast that Juniorette and I had just prepared and this was just too good to pass up. Yes, he's wearing Christmas pajamas and no, the bowl on his head is not my doing. We realize that to complete all the food groups which this week have included a dead potato bug, hairball pulled from the bottom of the vacuum, piece of carpet padding and a moth wing, you need to eat some Friskie's Buffet but couldn't you have done it before your bath?
Ten minutes prior to this, Juniorette and I were stirring eggs for omelettes.
As Juniorette decided to scoop up raw egg and eat it, husband yelled "DON'T EAT THE RAW EGG!!!" followed two seconds later by "NOOOOOO...DON'T SPIT IT BACK IN THE BOWLl!"
It was an interesting morning but Father's Day is all about quality time with one's offspring. Our quality definition just happens to be a little different from most (and we're ok, you're ok.)