That is actually a real title in my husband's family on Christmas. Santa is the person who hands out the presents from under the tree, and The Ghost of Christmas Trash is the person with the trash bag for all the wrapping paper, obviously. It started a few years ago when my husband put a big black trash bag over his body and declared himself to be the ghost of Christmas trash. Everyone thought it was pretty funny except for his grandmother who exclaimed, "The child!", in reference to my young brother in law who was 9 at the time. She was afraid he would be influenced to put a bag on his head and suffocate. It's still a joke, of course.
I hope everyone's Christmas was wonderful and all you expected. We had a great Christmas. I managed to finish all my projects except for one, so I'm pretty happy about that. And I, of course, forgot to get pictures of them. I'll have to request pictures from their new found owners. I received some very nice gifts which are also practical. I love to get practical things. I believe in owning fun
Blech. Half of my post just got eaten, and it makes me grumpy. I'll just have to finish it later. Sorry, folks.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Happy Christmas Time
When I was growing up, I remember my mom making Christmas candies and giving out plates of them to friends and neighbors. I don't really know how often she did it. It could have been every year or maybe just a few. But it happened enough for me to remember, so I'll call it a tradition. I've always wanted to do Christmas candies, but never have until now. And so I did. Yay! The end.
Okay, so I'm having trouble thinking about something good to write for you. For one, I really did make cookies and candies, and if you know what's good for you, you'll make these right now. I also made truffles, but I wasn't super happy with them. I'm a truffle snob. Ben tasted a bit of everything I made because I'm a terrible mother. But he was pretty happy about it.
Truth be told, I was hoping that it would make me feel more ready for Christmas, and it so didn't. I do this to myself every year, don't I? You think I would just buy all my Christmas gifts like a normal person, but I like making things for people. It's just that I have this affair with procrastination (my husband's totally in on it, too btw), and the little munchkin that demands my constant attention doesn't necessarily help either. He is fascinated by whatever it is I have in my hand, whether it's yarn or fabric. I do, however, have those times to myself when he goes to the sitter, but those times have thus far been lacking in productivity for various reasons. I can feel my anxiety bubbling up. Will I be ready for Christmas? Will I be able to get all that I had planned done? What if I don't? What if I grow a hunchback and move into a church to ring the bell and fall in love with a young gypsy woman named Esmerelda? What if, what if, what if?!
I know that my therapist would ask me what would happen if everything didn't get done. And I would say that nothing would happen, at least nothing bad. So why am I so stressed? I guess if I'm going to set expectations for myself, I shouldn't set them so high. That doesn't really keep me from feeling like a failure now, though. I'm still working on my projects, though. Hopefully I'll finish. I have four more days of Ben's being at the sitter before Christmas, which gives me 16 hours of child free work intensive project time. I can do it, I can do it!
Gosh, I'm so whiney. Some things just never change, heh. Okay, annoying pity party over. It's been snowy for the past couple days, and we're supposed to have more here and there throughout the week. It makes me really wish that Ben could walk, so he could play in the snow. I mean, I guess he could, but it's pretty cold to be crawling around in the snow. He's getting really close to walking, though. He's actually starting to show interest in it, which was lacking even a week ago, it seems. He'll take a few steps in short spaces to get to something else. It's exciting, and he's really excited about it, too. I have a question for you other moms out there who have been doing this for longer than I have. Is there every a time when you're not just completely interested in every little thing your kid does? Is it the novelty of having a child that makes me excited about everything he does, or is it because it's him who's doing it? Because I love him and he's a part of me and I'll always feel like he is even after he grows up, gets himself a wife and moves to Houston (purely hypothetical; I'm pretty sure the world will end before that happens)? Actually, though, Ben's training to become a chef.
Okay, so I'm having trouble thinking about something good to write for you. For one, I really did make cookies and candies, and if you know what's good for you, you'll make these right now. I also made truffles, but I wasn't super happy with them. I'm a truffle snob. Ben tasted a bit of everything I made because I'm a terrible mother. But he was pretty happy about it.
Truth be told, I was hoping that it would make me feel more ready for Christmas, and it so didn't. I do this to myself every year, don't I? You think I would just buy all my Christmas gifts like a normal person, but I like making things for people. It's just that I have this affair with procrastination (my husband's totally in on it, too btw), and the little munchkin that demands my constant attention doesn't necessarily help either. He is fascinated by whatever it is I have in my hand, whether it's yarn or fabric. I do, however, have those times to myself when he goes to the sitter, but those times have thus far been lacking in productivity for various reasons. I can feel my anxiety bubbling up. Will I be ready for Christmas? Will I be able to get all that I had planned done? What if I don't? What if I grow a hunchback and move into a church to ring the bell and fall in love with a young gypsy woman named Esmerelda? What if, what if, what if?!
I know that my therapist would ask me what would happen if everything didn't get done. And I would say that nothing would happen, at least nothing bad. So why am I so stressed? I guess if I'm going to set expectations for myself, I shouldn't set them so high. That doesn't really keep me from feeling like a failure now, though. I'm still working on my projects, though. Hopefully I'll finish. I have four more days of Ben's being at the sitter before Christmas, which gives me 16 hours of child free work intensive project time. I can do it, I can do it!
Gosh, I'm so whiney. Some things just never change, heh. Okay, annoying pity party over. It's been snowy for the past couple days, and we're supposed to have more here and there throughout the week. It makes me really wish that Ben could walk, so he could play in the snow. I mean, I guess he could, but it's pretty cold to be crawling around in the snow. He's getting really close to walking, though. He's actually starting to show interest in it, which was lacking even a week ago, it seems. He'll take a few steps in short spaces to get to something else. It's exciting, and he's really excited about it, too. I have a question for you other moms out there who have been doing this for longer than I have. Is there every a time when you're not just completely interested in every little thing your kid does? Is it the novelty of having a child that makes me excited about everything he does, or is it because it's him who's doing it? Because I love him and he's a part of me and I'll always feel like he is even after he grows up, gets himself a wife and moves to Houston (purely hypothetical; I'm pretty sure the world will end before that happens)? Actually, though, Ben's training to become a chef.
Monday, December 07, 2009
Is he supposed to be a mom?
Sunday, December 06, 2009
I was trained to do that with peanut butter.
I had four hours all to myself yesterday, and it was blissful. I ran errands, did dishes, vacuumed, and went over our budget without having to worry about Ben needing anything from me. Even though I was still doing things that weren't necessarily fun to do, I still felt refreshed. And when I brought Ben home, I was happy to spend a couple of hours solely devoted to playing with him and soaking in his big happy smiles. Yes, this is going to work out really well for us.
Here is one of the diapers I made for Ben.
It is very hard to get good pictures of it while he's wearing it. If it looks really bulky, that's because it is at the moment. It has several inserts in it for extra absorbency for bedtime. When I'm able to make some wool soakers, those will probably be better for nighttime pee soakage. They fit fairly trim during the day when he doesn't need all the extra padding. But I won't even be able to finish making all these diapers until after Christmas, I'm sure, so I'm still doing a mix of cloth and disposables right now. And you know? Cloth really isn't hard to do. And I really like that any rash he gets wearing disposables is gone within a day of using just cloth diapers. And I also really like to sew and knit. It just kind of works for me, I guess.
You know how I posted about performance anxiety? Well, you're about to see the closest I am probably ever going to get to singing in public by myself again (well, besides the errant karaoke every now and then). We got a good Black Friday deal on a digital video camera, and I decided to record myself singing. I figured I'd probably end up deleting it because I always end up hating how I sound in any recording. But I watched it, and aside from my recurring ped lip and various strange faces, it actually didn't make me want to vomit. So I'm sharing it with you because my blog audience is pretty small and mostly family and friends, and I don't have to look at you while you watch it (or don't watch it). And if you have something bad to say about it, you can tell each other about it and not me! There's a reason I'm not destined for American Idol, people. And Simon Cowell's meanness is that reason! Well, that and inadequate talent, lol.
The best part of this video is Ben trying to open the door in the background in the last minute. That kid is so stinking cute. As soon as we can get a video of him laughing hysterically, I promise to post it. His laugh is so contagious and adorable, but I am pretty biased, I guess.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving, er, almost a week ago. What the heck? Really? I swear, I spend all my time wondering where all my time has gone. Apparently, I should manage my time better. Easier said than done.
My Thanksgiving was great. I ate my turkey and mashed potatoes with my father in law's amazing gravy. Everybody liked my pies, which always makes me happy. I love making food that other people like to eat. I also like making food that I like to eat. We played Rock Band, and I sang a Journey song and an Allman Bros song. Everybody sang at least once. Well, I guess not everybody, but almost. The dumb thing is, though, I got performance anxiety. I always do, even in front of family. I don't even care if I fail miserably in front of them, and we make a joke about it that lasts forever. That already happens all the time. Chris will never let me forget about the time I tripped on NOTHING and fell while we were dating six years ago. And there was also the time that he called me and woke me up, and as I got up out of bed, I discovered that my legs were asleep. I fell on my face, and the phone flew out of my hand. I also made a bit of a screamy sound. These two incidents were in the same time period, and every time I've forgotten about them, he inevitably reminds me.
So, yes, performance anxiety. I hate it. I would love to feel confident enough to sing in front of people because I really do like to sing quite a bit. And I'm pretty sure the whole "imagine everyone is in their underwear" thing wouldn't work for me because then I couldn't look at anyone! I don't want to see a bunch of people in their underwear. What if they have really apparent skid marks? Ewwwwww.
I sang a song with my brother at my grandfather's funeral. We didn't know that song, but he and I were able to familiarize ourselves with it and practice a bit before we were supposed to sing it in front of everyone (my aunt was supposed to sing it, but she got sick right before and lost her voice. Boo.). So, we're singing, and it's really wonderful and I start feeling comfortable and I start into this really emotional part of the song, and I look down to find the next words to sing and I have no freaking idea where I'm supposed to be. Thankfully, no one was there to hear us sing (my brother did not mess up because he is not a freak like me). They were there to pay their respects to my awesome grandfather. But it was like my subconscious was all, "Wait, what? You think you can actually do this? Okay. Well how about THIS?! You don't know what the words are do you?! Mwahahahahahahahahahahahaha!" To which I am all, "Screw you, subconscious. Screw you."
In other news, I have found a sitter to take Ben to twice a week for several hours. I'm really really excited about this. I get to vacuum my house without having to hold Ben and having him still freak out because he is seriously distrustful of that machine. It is not easy vacuuming while holding 23 lbs of freaking out. And then, I also get to sew and knit and crochet and hopefully create an inventory to open up a shop on Etsy. I've been wanting to do this for a while now. But first, I have to finish Christmas projects. I hope I can get them done. Every time I pull out my yarn and needles while Ben is happily playing with his toys, he senses that I am about to be productive and seeks me out. Which would be fine if he didn't want to play with what I'm holding and then protest loudly and violently when I don't allow him to. So then the yarn and needles get put away and nobody gets to play with them. *pout* Because Mommy can't share, dang her. I've even tried giving him a different skein of yarn, but it doesn't work. He wants the one I'm using. Every time. So hopefully, I can jump start all these projects and finish them in the next three weeks (!).
I just realized that it's 3 am. I woke up and 1, was not able to get back to sleep by 2, and told myself I'd have to go back to bed again by 3. I'm tired of insomnia.
My Thanksgiving was great. I ate my turkey and mashed potatoes with my father in law's amazing gravy. Everybody liked my pies, which always makes me happy. I love making food that other people like to eat. I also like making food that I like to eat. We played Rock Band, and I sang a Journey song and an Allman Bros song. Everybody sang at least once. Well, I guess not everybody, but almost. The dumb thing is, though, I got performance anxiety. I always do, even in front of family. I don't even care if I fail miserably in front of them, and we make a joke about it that lasts forever. That already happens all the time. Chris will never let me forget about the time I tripped on NOTHING and fell while we were dating six years ago. And there was also the time that he called me and woke me up, and as I got up out of bed, I discovered that my legs were asleep. I fell on my face, and the phone flew out of my hand. I also made a bit of a screamy sound. These two incidents were in the same time period, and every time I've forgotten about them, he inevitably reminds me.
So, yes, performance anxiety. I hate it. I would love to feel confident enough to sing in front of people because I really do like to sing quite a bit. And I'm pretty sure the whole "imagine everyone is in their underwear" thing wouldn't work for me because then I couldn't look at anyone! I don't want to see a bunch of people in their underwear. What if they have really apparent skid marks? Ewwwwww.
I sang a song with my brother at my grandfather's funeral. We didn't know that song, but he and I were able to familiarize ourselves with it and practice a bit before we were supposed to sing it in front of everyone (my aunt was supposed to sing it, but she got sick right before and lost her voice. Boo.). So, we're singing, and it's really wonderful and I start feeling comfortable and I start into this really emotional part of the song, and I look down to find the next words to sing and I have no freaking idea where I'm supposed to be. Thankfully, no one was there to hear us sing (my brother did not mess up because he is not a freak like me). They were there to pay their respects to my awesome grandfather. But it was like my subconscious was all, "Wait, what? You think you can actually do this? Okay. Well how about THIS?! You don't know what the words are do you?! Mwahahahahahahahahahahahaha!" To which I am all, "Screw you, subconscious. Screw you."
In other news, I have found a sitter to take Ben to twice a week for several hours. I'm really really excited about this. I get to vacuum my house without having to hold Ben and having him still freak out because he is seriously distrustful of that machine. It is not easy vacuuming while holding 23 lbs of freaking out. And then, I also get to sew and knit and crochet and hopefully create an inventory to open up a shop on Etsy. I've been wanting to do this for a while now. But first, I have to finish Christmas projects. I hope I can get them done. Every time I pull out my yarn and needles while Ben is happily playing with his toys, he senses that I am about to be productive and seeks me out. Which would be fine if he didn't want to play with what I'm holding and then protest loudly and violently when I don't allow him to. So then the yarn and needles get put away and nobody gets to play with them. *pout* Because Mommy can't share, dang her. I've even tried giving him a different skein of yarn, but it doesn't work. He wants the one I'm using. Every time. So hopefully, I can jump start all these projects and finish them in the next three weeks (!).
I just realized that it's 3 am. I woke up and 1, was not able to get back to sleep by 2, and told myself I'd have to go back to bed again by 3. I'm tired of insomnia.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)