Baby words

I love when the little folk talk. Baby words are some of the funniest things ever. Have you noticed that they can make sounds that you can't copy? And that you can't spell? I want to record on here the thing The Small One says, but that isn't always possible because sometimes she says things for which there is no phonetic symbol.
Here are some of my fave words-
She calls my youngest brother, wienie. His name is Jamie.
She calls his girlfriend, bickie. Her name is Korbie. She tries to say Kiebie, but it comes out backward. I notice that she gets a lot of her sound order mixed up.
For instance, snow? Nos. Long o. So cute.
For Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas, we get Ho, may kees.
Horses? They say yee-haw!
She knows the important words as well. Money is a big one. And she says it right.
There is also nankee. Which is candy. Sadly, she knows that one quite well.
When we say prayers, it doesn't matter if you are actually done or not. When she is done (which is what is important) she throws her arms into the air and shouts "maymen!!!" I think she may have been a Pentecostal in a former life.
Her cousins, she has given very funny names-
Natasha is tata, Ethan is E-E. Alyvia is Biba. Jackson, Jassy.
And Uncle Emil? That is meow.
I love to listen to her talk, I wish I could get it on video, but the second she sees the camera, all she will say is "see? see?" Ah, well, maybe some day I will be able to sneak up on her and record it for posterity. ;)

Short post

I am watching a show on Discovery about Jesus. It is a "scientific" look at the life of Jesus Christ, very interesting and fairly well done.
The reason I am writing is this. The more I learn about other Christian religions, the more science comes out about the "real" Jesus Christ, the more I realize how logical and true the LDS church is. It just makes sense!

Baby Love

The past week or so, with The Small One getting sick has brought a few of things to the forefront of my mine. The first being that I love her so deeply that it borders on adoration, the second that this makes me insanely vulnerable and the third, being reminded of the fact that I nearly lost her just over a year ago.
All of these things are rather interconnected, so I shall start with number three.
As many of you know, at the end of September of last year, The Small One was stricken ill with the dreaded illness, Spinal Meningitis. The day she became ill, I was at a baby fair attempting to sell some of my wares. When I got home, I was rather appalled to see how sick she looked. I took her temperature and off we went to the Urgent Care Clinic. The doctor there took one look at the sick child and sent us straight to the ER. At the ER, she underwent numerous tests and tortures. She was so dehydrated that it took so very many tries to get her IV in, that I was ready to cry. We were there for hours. IV, blood tests, urine tests, lots of mistakes by the lab. When we finally got her results back, the news was not good. Her white count was very high. This meant the dreaded spinal tap. Oh, it was evil. As a rule, they do not give an anesthetic to infants before a spinal tap, figuring that one poke is better than two. This is not true. The poke to deliver a local is MUCH less painful that the one to get a tap. However, I did not know this at the time. I tried to stay in the cubicle while they took the tap, but was unable. The moment Husband curled The Small One up into a ball to expose the curve of her spine, I ran. I could not stand there and watch them cause my daughter, my heart, so much pain. I went out into the main body of the ER, just outside her cubicle. I knew the moment the needle pierced her spine, her cry was heart wrenching and I began to cry as well. A male nurse approached me and asked if I would like a chair. I said no, he brought one anyway, obviously afraid that I would faint. When the tap was over, the nurses came out with the sample, and I went back in to reclaim my daughter. I took her fragile figure into my arms, and her sobs began to subside. Mine did not. The horror of knowing the pain she was in, that I was privy to, was too much for me. I held her and rocked her and cried. Eventually, the doctor came in to tell us that her fluid was clear, not cloudy (thank the Good Lord), but they were fairly sure she had meningits. Shortly after delivering this news, he was kind enough to inform me that the large majority of infants who contract meningitis die within 24 hours. This was too much for me. How could I bear the loss of this little one who had such a claim on my heart? In the short six months she had belonged to me, I had invested EVERYTHING I had into her. If I lost her, I lost part of myself. But worse than losing part of myself was losing her. I wanted her, I needed her.
We were transferred up to the pediactrics unit and given a room, at which time I called my mom. When she arrived (somewhere around 2 am) I sent Mike home, as he had to work the next day. I had calmed myself by that point, but when my mom arrived and I gave her the rundown of what had happened, I began to lose control again. Holding this blessed infant, wearing hospital jammies that were far to large for her and hooked up to tubes and IV's and monitors I realized afresh what it would mean if she died. I felt then, as I feel now. If she were to die, a very large part of me would die with her. She is my life, she is everything to me. I didn't know if I would survive the loss whole or at all. My mom, in her wisdom, told me I would, but that it would be insanely hard and I would indeed lose part of myself, but that since I had to go on, I would do so.
Needless to say, she did not die. She was released from the hospital 1 week later, whole and well. I did not sleep much that week and I thanked the Lord daily that she had survived another day.
Fast forward to the following July 4. She is again running a fever (the same thing that cued us into her being very ill the first time). After some time of keeping an eye on her, we take her to Urgent Care. Once again, off to the hospital. This time, the stay is much shorter.
Perhaps you can see why The Small One getting a fever makes me a bit paranoid? Why it reminds me of the first time. You see, she has had a fever only three times in her life. Two of those times ended up with hospital visits and one nearly cost her life.
This past week has been a bit of a sleepless one. I took her temperature obsessively, willing her body to remain below 103, the danger mark for her age. Doing everything within my power to keep her fever down and her hydrated. If she continued to drink and her fever stayed lower, it wasn't life threatening. I prayed constantly that it wasn't something dangerous, that she would overcome whatever had a hold on her. Again, thank the Lord she has. It seems she has roseola, which isn't terribly dangerous.
My point is this. I love her. Beyond all. She is a literal part of me. And to love someone this much makes one incredibly vulnerable. I sometimes feel that I am just asking to be hurt. Having a child and loving it opens one up to all sort of joys, but with those joys can come the very depths of despair. I fear for her. For her health, for her happiness, for the kind of world we are leaving her. But on the other hand, I wouldn't trade it for anything. To love someone the way I love her, to know I had a significant part in her creation, to know she is part of me is...awe inspiring. And the joys are there and they are un-numberable. To see her precious smiling face in the morning, to feel her soft angel kiss on my cheek. To feel those tiny arms wrap around my neck and squeeze. To rejoice in her triumphs, to laugh at her silliness.

To love her.

That is the infinite joy.

To love.

Vent

Aaargh! I have been sick for about a week now. I hate that. But, what I hate even more? When my baby gets sick. She has a fever and is not a happy camper. She has only had a fever two other times in her life and both times she went into the hospital. So, of course, I am paranoid that she is going to have to go to the hospital again. We do not enjoy this. Add to that the fact that we have no health insurance and it is kind of sucky.

And she yarfed on me so I smell like vomit. Nice.

Update

New baby friend got to come home from the hospital on Friday. We are very pleased! The Small One hasn't gotten to go see him, yet, though she talks about him every day. Sadly, I have a nasty cold which has led to the loss of my voice. We don't want to send new baby back to the hospital, so we will stay away until I recover.

New baby friend

A couple of nights ago, my dear friend gave birth to a big baby boy, cute as anything. Sadly, due to low oxygen and high white count, he was put in the NICU, but nothing dangerous.
So, the night before last, I took The Small One over with me to the hospital. New baby's big brother had been staying with us, but he and The Small One were both quite done with each other and he wanted his mom and dad. The Small One wanted to see the new baby, and although she couldn't go into the NICU, I knew she would be able to see him through the window. So, down we went to NICU with my friend to see baby. She went into the NICU and The Small One and I stood outside the window watching. They had the boy in a heated bed with all sorts of tubes and monitors hooked to him. When the nurse went over to his bed to put his O2 monitor back on, he started to cry. The Small One started to look worried and kept saying, "no, no" to the nurse. She thought the nurse was hurting the baby. Then when nurse laid the baby back down, he stopped crying and shut his eyes. The Small One turned to me and said "baby honkshu, honkshu" Snoring, if you will. She thought baby was sleeping. The nurse then picked him up again and turned him to the window so The Small One could see him, but she didn't like that at all. Now, if you are familiar with the trials of The Small One, you will know that she has been hospitalized twice in her lifetime. Once at six months and once at 15 months. She doesn't care for nurses and tubes and monitors and seeing the nurse holding the baby worried her.
So, baby-mama took the boy from the nurse and brought him close to the window for the Small One to see. He promptly stopped crying, opened his eyes and turned his head to look at The Small One. At that point, the grin just split her face. She loved it. Oh, cute baby! she said, excited. It will be funny to see how she reacts when he comes home from the hospital. She has never held a baby that young before, at least not to realize what it was!

More stuff

So, would you all like an update on the goings on in the lives of Us? Of course you would!
As I mentioned before, the Husband lost his job a few weeks ago. Tragic, I know. But, really, it turns out to be a good thing. He is happier right now than he has been in a very long time. Like, back to the jolly guy I married. I like that plan. Well, in the midst of my despair over the job loss and consequent money loss, my boss/friend offered me full time work if I would like to accept. I didn't want to, not wanting to work full time with The Small One and all, but I realized it would be a necessity for a while, at least, and that this was a great blessing. Me working full time would enable us to get health insurance, which is ridiculously important. The Husband has had a wealth of side jobs appear, which is fabulous. Not a lot of money in them, but a little, enough to get by. On top of the switching to full time (which happens next week, ugh) my side work has blossomed. There was a dearth of it for a while, which I wasn't too sorry about, but right as I started needing to make more money, a great deal of it fell in my lap. Now, it is not easy to work a day job and do custom work, but the money is worth it right now.
Here is the really good thing. Turns out, the Husband is an awfully good stay-at-home dad. Who knew? Of course, he doesn't have The Small One full time, she still goes to Memmaw's for babysitting several times a week, but the times he does have her, he does such a good job. Like, better than me, because he actually CLEANS THE HOUSE! I know!!! Crazy, huh? But, I love it. Almost makes working more worth it. I leave, he takes care of baby and house, I come home and play with baby and he puts her to bed. Could it get much better?

For Linda

This post is for my mother-in-law who wants to hear some good news. So, here you go, the good things in the lives of Tara, her Husband and The Small One.

The Small One- There is always good news in regards to The Small One. She is a thing of beauty and a joy forever. Okay, not always a thing of beauty. Just the other day, whilst out gallivanting with cousins and dogs, large dog (Eustace) knocked The Small One clean over right as she was climbing the wood steps in the backyard. The result? One very ugly bruise and a multitude of scrapes on her wee little face. Not pretty. Why is this a good thing, you may ask? Well, The Small One was not seriously injured, and after a wail of about 2 minutes and 38 seconds, she wanted down to be off gallivanting once again with cousins and dogs. Sadly, the dogs knock her down several times a week. Fortunately for all concerned, she doesn't seem to care that much. Bless her hard little head!
What else? Oh, yes. The Holidays. We are muchly looking forward to the Holiday Season with the Small One this year, for the following reasons; she gets VERY excited when she sees Christmas Lights. That means Temple Square is on the agenda for this year. I can't wait to see the joy on her face when she sees those lights. I expect much yelling and laughing to occur. Another reason, whenever she sees Santa Claus or decorations of elves or reindeer or what have you, she says "Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas!" Except it comes out more like "Ho, Mara Kiss" in a very deep baby voice. HYSTERICAL! I must get it on video to post on here. The problem with trying to get it on video is that The Small One is far more interested in getting her hands on the camera than being cute. Silly infant.
Other good stuff-She has an insane amount of words. A new one pops out of her mouth every day and I don't even know how she learns them! Also, she can read her books. Okay, not really, she isn't quite that precocious. I don't think. She has this cute little book of opposites that I have read to her soooooo many times that she has it memorized. Front, back. (she usually adds in duck, because, well, the pictures are of ducks. Go figure.) Near, far. Happy, sad. And then we get to The Small One's favorite. LOUD!!!! She never remembers it's opposite. Big surprise.
The Small One decides for herself whether or not it is an underwear day or a diaper day. And she thinks about it before she decides. Sometimes, I will go to put underwear on her and she says, "no, dipey". Sometimes I go to put a diaper on her and she says, "no, skibbies". And, rest assured, if she says it is a diaper day and you put her in skibbies, woe unto you! Trust me, you will regret it. When it is time for her bum to be changed (hopefully on a diaper day!) she lays her little self down on the floor (really, she flops. Not graceful, this one) pokes her wee skinny legs up in the air, plugs her precious nose and says "pee-yew, stinky." Most of the time, I have to agree.
Yesterday was not a pleasant day. I had the worst migraine I have had in years. I am bruised today because I had Mike massage my head and shoulders for hours yesterday. See, there is a happy thing for you. A husband who will rub an aching head and shoulders for hours. I know he doesn't enjoy it, but he knows it helps, so he does it. Bless him. Every once in a while, The Small One, sensing my distress would come to me, take my face between her little hands, look me in the eyes, then pat my cheeks. Sometimes she would join Daddy in the rubbing. Although, mostly it was scratching with her, and her nails are sharp.
The Small One, bless her naughty little heart, is the joy of my life. She is a gift, and one for which I am so very grateful. She is a straight up tomboy with a passion for shoes and bags, dogs and horses. She loves to be outside, getting dirty and rough housing with the boy cousins. Taking after her mamma, she likes to hang with the boys the best. But, she also loves pretty things, she likes to wear pretty dresses, for a little while anyway. She loves to shop, try on clothes and shoes, wear pretty beads around her neck. She loves trucks and cars and dirt. Did I mention she loves dirt?
So, there is some happy news for you, Grandma Linda. I will continue more later! Hope you enjoy.

My oubliette, please.

I haven't written for a very long time because things have been...well, I will be frank. They suck. Things suck right now. To be sure, they could be much worse, and I am eternally grateful that they aren't much worse, but that doesn't mean they don't suck. Because they do.
Why, you ask? Well, let me tell you.
Mike spent the last month in Reno. That was less than fun. I got to be a single mom with a fractious child. The Small One? She did not enjoy the absence of her daddy. She is a routine oriented lassie, as I have mentioned before, and her routine involves daddy. Particularly her bedtime routine. I will be honest here, she was a bear while her dad was gone!
We are, however, grateful for the work he was able to get while there and the consequent paycheck.
The reason he was in Reno? Yes, folks, it happened. Mike lost his job. His company, for which he worked so hard, went under. It could not survive the crashing economy and the less than stellar decisions made by certain business partners who shall remain nameless. This is me sticking my tongue out at you, nameless business partners. :P
And finally, just to round things off nicely, we lost our health insurance. Yippee.
So, all in all, it has been a crappy month and I haven't felt the desire to post. I have mostly felt the desire to crawl into an oubliette and stay there for a bit.
Sadly, The Small One has accomplished many a great and glorious thing these past 20 days or so, but I have been so busy wallowing in my misery that I have failed to chronicle a single thing. Bad Mamma!
In other news, she is growing like a dang weed and ONCE AGAIN, none of her clothes fit properly. Sigh.
Oh, wait, I do remember one thing that I find terribly amusing. She has a new phrase at bedtime. She pats the pillow next to her and says "lee now?" in her wee Disney voice. In case you cannot translate, that means, Lay Down. As in, please lay down by me while I go to sleep, as I prefer not to do it alone. You didn't know two baby words could mean that much, did you?

November

First of all, if you didn't notice the pics of my darlings in Halloween costume, scroll down. They are adorable. I let my friend (mother of the boy) decide what they were being for Halloween this year. And they were adorable. Next year, however, the decision is mine. And I have decided. I have a Louis XV costume the right size for the boy for next year, so naturally they will be Louis and Marie Antoinette. I got an awesome wig on sale for The Small One for next year, and folks, it is going to rock!
In other news, unless you have been hiding under a rock, you are aware the Presidential Election was yesterday. Barack Obama will be our new president. I am not surprised he won, but I am surprised at how large the margin was. Well, in the Electoral College anyway. As far as the popular vote is concerned, he didn't win by that large of a percentage. It will be interesting to see what direction he takes the country. I know a great many people are very concerned about what might happen, but the fact of the matter is, he can't cause too much trouble by himself. There is a reason that the system of checks and balances is in place. I personally think he will be good for the country. He isn't a socialist, though he does have some socialist leaning policies, namely healthcare and welfare-which, to be frank, need to have SOMETHING done. They are a disaster! And, for all you Mormon readers out there, the United Order and Law of Consecration are socialism in it's purest form, so freak out about that, if you will.
Also, I think it says something good about our country, that in the midst of the mess, with our dismal race relations and all, we managed to elect a non-white president. That is history right there, folks.
Truthfully, I think one of the biggest problems with the Republican Party right now, is that it has strayed far from it's actual platform. The ultra right-wing Christian Fundies have pushed things so far to the right that it is going to take some time to get back to normalcy. I like to consider myself a liberal conservative. ;)
In other news...we got snow!!!! We had a lovely warmish Halloween (though it did rain a tad) and then, bam! Cold and snow. I am not ready for snow yet. Too bad it isn't up to me. If it were, we would have snow from the day after Thanksgiving through New Years and then I would prefer it to stay in the mountains from then on out.
This seems to be a thoroughly random blog entry, so I shall continue the randomness..
I have been asked, rather often of late, when we plan on adding another small one to the brood. The answer to that is-not for a good while. First and foremost, we can't afford it. We are still paying for the first one. Secondly, holy crap. The thought of having another makes the mind boggle. Bless her heart, I love The Small One more than life itself, but she is a handful. She requires a great deal of attention and energy. Were I to have another at this juncture, one or both of them would get the short end of the stick, and I would require a straitjacket. We originally thought that maybe having one born around the time Lilly turns three would be about right. Looking at it from my point of view, it seems unlikely to be that soon, that would require me to get pregnant 6-12 months from now, and once again-holy crap. Now, should the Lord feel differently about it, well, I will accept what is sent my way, but if left up to me...well, put on your comfy shoes folks, cause you're in for a wait.

Happy Halloween!

18 month appt.

So, the blessed baby had her 18 month checkup today. Good news, all is well in babyland. At 18 months, The Small One, and let me emphasize the "small" weighs a grand total of...wait for it...18 lbs. 12 oz. Woot! Cue the band! Her doctor hoped that she would 18 lbs. by 18 months and that goal was achieved. Yeay, yeay, yeay!!!!! While that weight puts her nearer the chart, it still doesn't put her on the chart, however, should she continue to gain at this rate, she should be back on the chart by her 2nd birthday (which, startlingly enough, is sneaking up on us!) It does create a lovely jump in her personal curve. Heightwise-she is 31"and some change, which leaves her smack in the 50th (where she has been the whole time) and her head is still in the 75th percentile. Doctor tells us she needs a large head to hold all those brains.
Her cognitive development is, as usual, rather ahead of schedule. She has many more words than normal, can also identify many more body parts and her physical skills are very good as well. Apparently, spinning and jumping and climbing like she does are supposed to wait until closer to the two year mark. Ha ha! My kid is a smartypants! After her exam, she took her clothes over to Doctor and told him to get her dressed, which he did, and then she toddled on over to the door, knocked on it, turned and said ba-bye! to doctor. He laughed.
She got her final dTap and a flu shot today. She doesn't like shots, but she holds very still while they are administered. She learned being in the hospital twice, that wiggling when needles are near means she gets pinned down. She hates that worse than the needles, so she stays still. Screams her silly head off, but stays still. Nurse April gave her the two stabs and her bandaids, The Small One screamed for about 38 seconds, then blew a kiss to Nurse April and left. Dang, that kid is soooo funny!
At the car, after The Small One was seated, she hiked up her little skirt to survey the damage. She pointed to her bandaids (hello kitty ones!) and I asked her what the Kitty says. She hissed. This just made me howl with laughter, because you see, if you ask her what a kitty says, she says reow, reow, reow. But if you ask her what an angry kitty says, she hisses. Evidently, band-aid kitty was an angry kitty. Which ought to have been obvious, seeing as how it bit her!
So, all good at the Doctor's office. Despite her allergies and her cold, we are told that she is extremely healthy!
The Small One likes to be swung (is that a word?) around sometimes, so last night I decided to oblige her. She stands with her back to me and I grasp her under the arms and swing, once, twice, then third time over my head so she lands sitting on my shoulders. She pauses there a moment, then back over my head to land right side up on the floor. I did this sequence a couple of times before setting her back down on the floor. When I did set her back down, she gave me a concerned look and said uh-oh! I said- uh-oh, what? She lifted up her skirt, felt her bare bum and looked around confused. I fell down, I laughed so hard. Her underpants had flown off somewhere during the swing and she couldn't figure where they had gone! She looked around, located said skivvies and sat on the floor in an attempt to re-install. I couldn't help, I was laughing too much. She looked at me with the most bemused expression, it made me laugh that much harder. I could tell she thought I was a bit of an idiot.
Bless the child, aren't you all jealous she isn't yours? I've read that intelligent children are more difficult to raise (and I will attest to that fact) but I wouldn't trade those brains for anything. The fits, the naughties, the trouble, it's all worth it!

By popular demand

Okay, here by popular demand-okay, not really, just a few people-is the recipe for Samosas.

Two pie crusts-or one batch of pie dough. Sorry, I don't have a recipe for this, as I am a cheater.
3 medium potatoes
1 cup or so frozen peas
Some diced carrots if you like them
1/2 onion diced small
Garlic, if you like it.
Diced chicken or lamb or beef if you want meat in it (I make 'em vegetarian)
1 tbs cumin seeds
1 tbs garam masala
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp red curry powder
1 inch cube of fresh ginger, grated
vegetable oil or ghee
salt to taste
red pepper flakes if you want heat
a bit of coconut milk, or cream, or even milk if that is what you have.

Peel and dice potatoes small and place in water, bring to a boil and cook until nearly done
Put 1/8 cup ghee or oil in a large saucepan on medium heat. When hot add cumin seeds and cook about 30 seconds. Then add remainder of spices, except ginger. Cook, stirring, about 1 minute. Add onion and cook until soft and translucent. Add garlic and ginger and cook for a couple of minutes. Then add nearly cooked potatoes, peas, carrots, meat. Stir the mess round until potatoes are coated and starting to smush. Add coconut milk or cream or milk, just enough to make it a bit saucy. The longer this can sit over low heat, the better it tastes.

Place oil in a pan to about 2" depth, heat over medium heat.
While heating, roll pie crusts out so they are thinner than normal, cut 5 inch rounds, cut each round in half. Moisten the straight edge and fold together and seal, this will make a little cone.
Fill each cone with filling, squish it on in there, the crust should stretch, then seal the open edge. Fry a few at a time until crust bubbles and golden brown.

Eat with minty yoghurt dip (this is plain or greek yoghurt with fresh mint and lemon juice and a wee bit of salt stirred in) or mint chutney or tamarind sauce.

And Finally...

In knitting news, I am knitting lace! Woo-hoo! I have, until now, not been brave enough to try this. But, there was an irresistable sweater in the summer Verena magazine, and I had the perfect yarn, so I decided to give it a go. To be sure, it is not a super complicated pattern and the yarn is DK weight, not laceweight, so it is a bit easier, but still, it is lace! And it is turning out beautifully, I am very excited. The front is nearly done, I am working on the shoulders now. This will be the third adult sized sweater I have knitted. Very exciting for me.
In food type news, I have been on an Indian food kick lately. I love Indian food, but I have never made anything beyond a simple Aloo Gobi. Well, the other night I decided to give Chicken Makhani a try. Delish! Still working on the right blend of spices though. Not being terribly familiar with actually cooking Indian, it is hard for me to figure out what is missing. I will prevail, though, fear not! Tonite, Mike and I made Samosas. Oh, very nice. I love Samosas, and while these weren't as good as those to be had at Bombay House, they were still quite tasty. They even passed muster on the refined palate of my gourmand brother.
I have decided I really need to try and be more successful at the Holly Homemaker thing. I think if I can run my house better, I will feel better. It is hard to feel at peace in the midst of chaos.

The Small One

I don't know if it is the 18 month mark or what, but The Small One's vocabulary has exploded. There are so many new words to try out! So what if she doesn't remember all of them? She discovers them again and finds it terribly exciting! It is so very funny to hear the words come out of her mouth in that adorable Disney voice, and with a pronunciation all her own. I must get a video of her saying words so that I can remember how cute her little voice is.
The Small One has also learned another new skill. Spinning! This is very exciting, as for some reason the child likes to get dizzy. Crazy baby. So now, she will spin herself twice, then try to jump. Terribly funny. Especially when she can't jump when she isn't dizzy!
Also, in less than enjoyable news, the child WILL NOT EAT! It maketh me crazy. I am at my wit's end trying to figure out how to get food down her little gullet. Some days, she will eat like a little pigling. For instance, yesterday, while I was at work and Mike was on a job, Memaw and Papa took her to dinner. They had prime rib, mashed potatoes, scones and veggies. The Small One ate everything in sight. Generally, she will eat red meat, the little carnivore, but one cannot live on beef alone. Today, nothing but a cereal straw and countless bottles. I am grateful that she will still take a bottle, even though she is a bit old for it, at least she gets some nutrition. This is how most days go, though. No food. Occasionally, she will eat ice cream. And butter (which makes me want to vomit). So, if any of you out there have any fabulous ideas about how to get a very stubborn toddler to eat, I am all ears. Unless that method is to deny her a bottle based on the fact that if she is hungry, she will eat. This is not true. She has been hungry (and thus, cranky) all day. She still won't eat. I fear she has inherited a problem I have, my younger brother has and my mother has. I do not often feel hunger. I have learned to tell when I need to eat, but I don't feel hungry the way normal people do, same with mom and brother. I think The Small One is the same way. She knows she feels crappy, but doesn't know why, and doesn't want to eat because she feels crappy. (Ask my husband how difficult it is to get me to eat if I have gone too long without doing so.)

Blue Funk

I haven't posted lately as I have been in the grips of a blue funk, a slump, a downhill slide, if you will. I would like to find an oubliette and crawl into it for awhile, but I will leave a note with a time limit on it, so someone can remove me from said oubliette when things improve. Because, if you haven't guessed by now, things aren't going as well as one might like. To be sure, they are far from being as bad as they could be, but right now, it would appear that I am a glass half empty kind of person (oh, who am I kidding, I have always been that way!), and so I have a tendency to dwell more on the fact that not only are they not as good as they could be, but they could get even worse! This causes me stress. And that stress manifests itself in myriad unpleasant ways, both emotional and physical.
But, here is the core of the problem. I do not have the faith that I should that things will be okay. My blessed husband? He does. He just keeps on truckin'. How grateful I am for him and his good attitude. I wish I could take some of it for myself. The Lord has promised us that we will have sufficient for our needs and that Mike will be successful. Mike takes that promise as it stands and works to make it true. I look at that promise and think, Well, the Lord's idea of what is sufficient and mine may not be the same. And what does success mean anyway? See, this is a character flaw, and one I have much need to work on. My most favorite scripture of all is this one: Be still and know that I am God. I need to take that to heart.
And really, I don't have any reason to be in this funk. Things really aren't that bad. I mean, yes, the economy sucks, which means that our financial position sucks, but the Lord has seen fit to take care of us. I have a job, it pays fairly well, but does not require that I spend inordinate amounts of time away from my baby. We bought a very low cost house when we bought it, so we can still pay our house payment. And most of all, our beloved bishop, he has his eye on us. He is determined to make sure we survive the slump. What a good man, how in-tune he is with the Holy Spirit. The Lord has promised us success. Why do I worry about anything else?

Hello cuteness!

Sorry, folks, but I have to be honest. They just don't come cuter than this.


And how 'bout that sweet hat? I made it. MMMMMalabrigo. Sunset colorway, if you are interested.

More things and stuff

See, it was a good thing I copied that post below, because Blogger lost it again! Even though it autosaves, when I go to the draft, only the title will come up. I don't know why this is, but it is seriously annoying!

So, the sucky week. You ever have those days (weeks) where you pretty much can do nothing right or well? That suck all the self esteem out of you? This was one of those weeks, and I am beyond glad that it is over. Here's hoping I can start fresh on Monday and not have a repeat of this week.

Wanna know what went wrong? Of course you do, you nosy beggar.

Truthfully, I can't even remember what went wrong at the beginning of the week. I swear this week has been a year long!
Here is the crapatiousness in list form;
My house is a pigsty.
My laundry pile is nearly as tall as I am.
I am out of work clothes (see previous for reason)
I am chubby (okay, that didn't just happen this week, but you know how it is)
I cry when I am angry, frustrated, ticked off, tired, worn out and/or upset. And I can't help it.
My brain cannot seem to focus on more than one thing at a time.
I can't get anything done on time.
I have no motivation to exercise and de-chubbify.
I have screwed up at work more times than I want to think about.
I have messed up some free lance stuff, thereby creating more work for self.
I like knitting way too much.
And the big kicker, I am not as talented as I like to think I am.

Okay, now for an explanation.

Tis the season for new designs to be due at work. We have been working on said designs since the beginning of September. Now, we are in crunch time where everything comes due and there is a lot to think about. Also, the boss man hired a new girl, who, among other things, is also supposed to design. And she schooled me. Big time. She is very talented. At designing. She can't really sew, doesn't pattern, isn't very educated on the technical aspects of clothing manufacture. But she sure can draw pretty pictures. Of clothes that are right fabulous. What does this mean, you ask? It means that I think I may be being phased out of the design part of the party and pushed back into the technical part of the party. Because, this is what I am good at. I am good at taking someone's lovely, pretty pictures and translating them into reality. I know the terms, I know the patterning, I know the industry. The problem? This is not what I want to do! The dilemma. Do I accept my limitations and know this girl is a better designer than I am? Do I accept my place as interpreter of her designs and give up on the designing? Or do I put out the effort to keep sketching, hoping that I might turn out something really good? I don't know. And it frustrates me.
Onto the next problemo. Because we have been much involved this past week in trying to get things ready for China, that is where my mind has been. And it seems, my mind can only be one place at a time. There was a time when it could be several. I think it is broken, now. I blame pregnancy. Or something. Because of this one place thing, I forgot or messed up multiple things at work. In fact, on Friday, I forgot to do the alterations for two fittings. And apparently a third today. I got a call from the shop telling me that so and so had come in to pick up her dress and I hadn't even started on it! And she had to have it by monday, because she was leaving Tuesday morning for the wedding. Aargh! Now, in all honesty, I don't think I would have scheduled a pickup with that many alterations on a day I didn't work, but the bride swears I did, and I can't remember, so there you go.
Also, had a meeting with the boss man and the hotshot designer. Did not go well. I suck. I cannot do what he wants. I don't know what he wants, and this lack of knowing basically keeps me from knowing how to do what he wants.
Plus, I really hate doing alterations. They are not fun. Brides are not nice. Brides mom's are worse. And I think Bridal Store owners might even be worse. But that could just be my bruised self-esteem talking.

Things and stuff

Okay, I am going to try to remember to copy and paste this entry. I lost a very long, very amusing entry the other day and was so annoyed that I haven't posted for a while!
So, here is a rundown on the week. It sucked. There you go.
See post above if you want to know why the suckage.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
The Small One has decided she is a monkey. And she is correct. Let me elaborate.
A couple of days ago, The Small One was being her usual willful self (methinks she is being advanced and has entered the joys of the terrible twos somewhat early). Mamma (that's me) had run short on patience and we were both eagerly awaiting the arrival of Mike. Except, I must remember to call him daddy, as The Small One thinks Mike is a proper form of address for her to use in reference to him. Anyhow...
The Small One has learned to recognize the sound of a truck coming up the driveway, and in fact, can usually recognize her daddy's truck. This is a feat in and of itself, as there are 4 trucks currently residing on our little flag road. Jared, out front, has one. Brandon, behind, has one. Joey, one of Mike's guys and The Small One's current crush, has one. And of course, the all-important truck, that belonging to Daddy. Everytime a truck drove by, The Small One's ears would perk up. "Daddy?", nope, not yet. Then finally, the long listened for engine came driving up the road. Excitement reigned! Straight to the door went The Small One, followed (with relief) by Mamma. Out we went, with much shouts of "Daddy! Daddy!" She went straight to him, got her hugs, then clambered to get down and explore. I stood on the driveway, chatting with Mike, when suddenly, after an ominous silence which ought to have clued me in to the fact that mischief was occuring, I hear a pathetic whimpering. (This is her new thing, and far from getting the reaction The Small One hopes for, it just makes me howl with laughter. I will have to get a pic of her face when she does it, as it is worth seeing.) I turn around and what assaults my vision, but The Small One...at the TOP OF MIKE'S WORK LADDER!!!!!!
The silly little monkey had climbed up to the top and couldn't figure out how to get down. I snatched her off of the ladder right quick, but then laughed. It was a sight to see, the tiny little girl gripping the top rung of the ladder with all her might, her little mouth pursed up in her silly whimper. Must make sure all ladders are put away from here on out!

I think baby is about to go through a growth spurt, as she has started waking up at 4 am or so to eat. Now, for most babies, this would be something to discipline out of them, but The Small One, being, as she is, well...small...we have to feed her whenever she is willing to eat. She is tiny, underweight and needs to pack it on, so no denying the food. Although 4 am is not a polite hour to be wanting anything but sleep, in my opinion. Well, the other night, she was sleeping in our bed (aargh) and woke up at her usual 4-ish. And she wanted a bottle. (yes, yes, I know she shouldn't be on a bottle at her age, but the weight thing...blah, blah, none of your beeswax anyway). I wasn't about to get out of bed, having only gotten in bed a couple of hours earlier. She knows Daddy is the one to bug, anyway. So, she sits up...and whispers...Mike, Mike. I am snickering over on my side. He doesn't respond. Pat, pat. Mike. Mike. With a big emphasis n the "K" sound. Mi-kuh. Mi-kuh. No response. She leans right into his face, I am about to explode from holding in the laughter. Mi-kuh. Mi-kuh. Finally, he wakes up to a baby in his face, whispering his name. Kind of creepy, that. Mi-kuh. Ba-ba. He rolls out of bed to get her baba and I go back to sleep with a satisfied smile on my face.

Tagged by Kaytee

TAG!
A- Attached or single: Attached
B- Best Friend: I have a few, Stephanie Foster Breinholt, Jennifer Graff, Sheli Sillito Walker and Mindy Gerun Holtey
C-Cake or Pie? Neither, thanks.
D-Day: Saturday.
E- Essential Item: chap stick
F- Favorite Color: Blue
G-Gummi Bears or Worms: Worms
H-Home town: Orem, Utah. Now Pleasant Grove
I- Indulgences: Sunflower seeds and shopping.
J- January or July?: July...After Christmas it sucks being cold!
K-Kids: Lillian, 18 months
L-Life is incomplete without: family
M- Marriage Date: March 14, 2002
N- Number of Siblings: 5 brothers
O- Oranges or Apples: Depends on the day.
P- Phobias or Fears: Heights, bugs, Lillian getting seriously ill (again)
Q- Quote: Be still and know that I am God.
R- Reason To Smile: Mike and Lillian
S- Season: Fall. Best clothes, no question.
T- Tag:Mary and Linda
U- Unknown fact about me: If you don't know it, it is probably none of your business.
V- Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animal: Definintely an oppressor.
W- Worst Habit: Yelling
X-Rays or Ultrasounds: Neither at the moment, thank you very much.
Y-Your favorite food: Fresh seafood.
Z: Zodiac Sign: Virgo

brassy

I recently reconnected with an old college friend via Facebook. I haven't seen him for 10 years, though I have emailed him a few times. He informed me that (back then, anyway) I was brassy and not BYU cookie cutter. I am not sure what this means. Is it a compliment? I don't know.

Crab Boil

Today, finally, we had a crab boil. If you are not familiar with the joys of a crab boil, I suggest you hightail it on over to google and make yourself familiar as they are a thing of beauty and a joy forever.
Normally, in my family, we have at least two of these delectable events per year, but, due to crazy busy schedules, it has been well over a year since the last one. That is the shameful truth. Today, however, we remedied the sad situation and the fam came out in force. The weather cooperated, my mom has a delightful backyard and the fun commenced. If you don't like seafood (as is the case with three of my SIL's) the fun is well, not so much. But being the kind SIL that I am, I cooked those lovely ladies some chicken for their unadventurous palates so they were able to join the party. My uncle always joins us for the family feeds, and this time he brought his new fiancee with him. Baptism by fire, if you will. He was kind enough to warn her that this part of the clan could be a little "rowdy", haha, understatement, but the lovely woman was able to hold her own.
The Small One did her part, eating buttered potatoes, corn, shrimp and even dipping her share of the crab into her root beer. Whatever works, baby!
After the party ended, my dad and older brother came over for some chat time. As always with the chats (with those two in particular) it went long and got loud occasionally. I believe we woke The Small One once or twice, but daddy to the rescue, he went in and got her back to sleep, as it was evident that mamma was not going to leave the convo. The things we talked about were many and sundry, a lively debate on the merits of classical art vs. the movements of the late 19th, early 20th century, the benefits of a vocational school vs. a traditional university and the most important, is our family really that weird. The answer to that was yes.
We are a different breed than a lot of other active Mormon families. The most particular issue being that, while most of my friends had lots of rules, my family had few, but very strict. This allowed for a lot of exploration, literal and figurative, as a child. My dad continues to wonder how we turned out as well as we did, as he is not positive that he and my mom were great parents. Oh, but they were. They allowed us certain very important things. They allowed us to be as intelligent as we really were. They allowed us to develop our talents, whatever they were, nay, they encouraged. They encouraged questions and learning and exploring. They encouraged opinions, form them, then support them. They encouraged unconventional friendships with unconventional people, and on and on.
Sometimes, the learning and exploring was a "necessity". We grew up poor, indeed, very poor. So poor, in fact, that hearing certain stories about my childhood make my dear husband depressed. Whilst brother, dad and I laughed about certain occurences from the childhood, husband thought they were rather tragic. For example; when I was pregnant with The Small One, I had a certain craving once or twice. I craved that cheap Carl Buddig lunch meat. The kind that costs somewhere around 50 cents per package. It was pastrami, in particular, that I wanted. So, I went off to the store, bought a package, a loaf of smushy bread and some mayonnaise and came home and made a sandwich. After I made it, I called my brother and said -Guess what I am eating.
-what?
-A Carl Buddig pastrami sandwich.
Pause.
-How many slices?
- 5
-Wow, that's over the top.
-you know it.
Much laughter followed. Because, here is the thing. Growing up, we were only allowed 3 slices of pastrami per sandwich. If you were really that hungry, you could eat another sandwich, but no more than 3 slices per sandwich. More than that was wasteful, and we couldn't afford it.
Husband thinks this is terribly sad.
Brother is an artist for Avalanche, a company that makes video games for Disney. Growing up poor is what pointed him in that direction. When we were little, he got a Star Wars action figure for his birthday. He took it over to a friend's house to play with said friend's Millenium Falcon and X-wings. These things were far outside the reach of our family. While playing with said spaceships and knowing he would never have one of his own, brother reached into his own ingenuity and said, I could build spaceships myself for these action figures. So he did. This necessity led him straight into model making, which landed him his first job in the gaming industry.
Same sort of thing happened to me. I loved Barbies, and I had a few. What I never got was one of those big fashion packs of clothing that you could purchase, and oh, how I wanted one. When I was about 10, my mom bought an evening gown for Barbie at the local fabric store. These were made by a lady who worked there and they were beautiful. Far lovelier and more chic than anything that came in the fashion pack. I looked that gown over, and I realized something. I could make custom clothes for my Barbie. So, I did. I made patterns and I draped and I made my Barbies the most fantastic outfits ever. Oh, and what do I do for a living? Yeah, I make fantastic outfits and wedding gowns for people. I make patterns and I drape on my mannequin just like I did with the Barbie.
And I don't think that is tragic.

I am this Austen Heroine

Take the Quiz here!

Hello and all

My house, it is messy. My hair, it is messy. My baby, she is messy. But it is all good, because it is Conference Sunday, there is a fire in my fireplace and the baby, she has learned to put on her own shoes. It makes her quite proud.

Pins and needles...or just needles

Oh, Knitpicks Options, how I do love thee.
Thou art slick and smooth and sharp of point, and leadeth me to speedy knitting.

Sadness

It is interesting to note the trials people are asked to go through, and to wonder what mine look like to someone on the outside.

Stephanie Nielson was severely burned in a plane crash. She was a physically beautiful young woman. She will never look the same again. Her face was burned and they had to rebuild her nose and ears from cartilage from other parts of her body. She is now undergoing skin grafts in an attempt to recover her body. You can't tell me that physical beauty isn't important. People will stare at her wherever she goes because of the way she will look. This bothers me more than anything else. Her children will not recognize her when they finally get to see her. This is a tragedy. Are there parts of this accident that should bother me more than this? I don't know. I think that we (I) identify ourselves so much by the way we look that, were it to happen to me, I don't know how I would react to not seeing myself in the mirror. How would I react to my daughter expressing fear at the way I look? Would I be able to find myself in this new face? I want so much for her to be okay, and to look normal. I hope she will.

My friend Christian Adams died last week from heart failure, completely unexpectedly. He was 34. He leaves behind a wife and 2 little girls and a third on the way. He was a wonderful man. Unfailingly kind, sweet and happy. He had his trials, this I know, but he overcame the major ones. His lovely wife, she has had her trials as well. Big ones. And she overcame them. And now this...I can't imagine how she must feel right now. He was away from home when he died, wanting nothing more than to finish his business trip and get back home to his girls. I am comforted in my sorrow for his family with the knowledge that he is watching out for them from wherever he is. I know he loved them more than anything. What I don't know is why he had to go.

These things make my heart hurt.

Delish

So, I haven't done much of the bloggety-blog on the crafty crap, it seems The Small One has been occupying all the bandwidth here, so I shall shift her to the side for a mo' and update the maybe one person who cares what I am working on.

I have just recently (almost) finished a delightful sweater based on a pattern I knit for the Ravelympics and which is posted somewhere on this blog. I don't yet have pics, as it isn't quite done. You see, it was knitted on some rather cheap size 8 circs, and being rather cheap, they have a stiffish cable, which is not at all useful for the magic looping. I tried to knit my sleeves on it, to no avail, I ended up with the most dreadful laddering, so I gave up. However, in transit to me, from the delightful shop known as Knitpicks, are the lovely Options interchangeable circs, which, I have been assured have a lovely not stiffish cable, but one that is nice and flexible with little memory, such as I desire and need for magic looping. I have also been assured by one in the know, that these needles do indeed rival Addi Turbos. Now, Addis being my most favorite needle in the world, I take that with a grain of salt. But, if they are even somewhat close to being as good as Addis, I shall be happy. This sweater is a thing of good report and praiseworthy and I am quite pleased with how it has turned out. Among other things, I look HOT ( in a good way) whilst wearing it.

As I am still waiting the arrival of said Options circs, I decided to go ahead and start my next sweater, which is a thing of beauty and a joy forever. Or it will be when I finish it. Last night, when I ought to have been doing myriad other things, I decided to dye some yarn for it. So, I skeined all my naked wool, put it in a pot and dumped some dye in varying shades of orange and brown on it. Lovely, lovely. I got a delightful semi solid in a nice rusty tone, pretty nearly exactly what I was going for. The only thing I would change? I wish I had made the dye a little more concentrated so the color was a touch darker. But, it is pretty! And, the thing I love about Kool-Aid/cake color dyeing? Completely non-toxic,which means I don't have to track down my dye pot or use non-food utensils, cause Kool-Aid is a food. Right? Also, not dangerous to the small one.

Now that I know I can actually knit a sweater in a decent amount of time, my head is teeming with ideas. What fun. All those Anthropologie sweaters I can't afford, I can just make! Damn, it is fun to be handy.

Small Steps

Small news to the world, but big news to us, The Small One is potty training for real!
She has been aware for some time (like a year) of her bodily functions and able to hold them when she chooses. Lately, she has become even more cognizant of said functions and decided that perhaps she can fully control them. (plus, she likes the little underwear!)
So, yesterday, we decided to give it a try for real. Gramma made The Small One some tiny unders, as said Small One's bum is extremely tiny. And for some reason, underwear doesn't come smaller than a 2T. Her blessed little bum is nowhere near a 2T. Gramma brought the underwear over, but I didn't put it on baby right away. I left the room to do something, and whilst gone heard grunts and groans and sounds of frustration. Returning to the front room, I found The Small One trying to put on the new unders (they were striped) over her pants and shoes. I asked if she would like to wear her new unders. Emphatic nods. So, I stripped her down and asked if she would like to go potty. Once again, emphatic nods and off she runs to the bathroom. She plants her Blues Clues potty seat on the toilet and lets me put her up and went potty. She always applauds herself after going. Awesome.
So, she got to wear her stripey unders, of which she is very proud, for the whole afternoon. Toward the evening, she did have one accident, but ONLY one. Yeay for The Small One!

In other news, it appears we have a budding artist on our hands. Oh yes, it's true. Yesterday, we lunched at JCW's burger place with Gramma, Papa and Uncle Jamie. The Small One had a corn dog (of course!) While we were all involved in eating lunch and talking politics, The Small One decided to be artistic at the window. I glanced over to see her painting the window with the fry sauce on the end of her corn dog. At least it wasn't my fault as she wasn't sitting next to me. Gramma grabbed the corn dog and we all giggled surreptitiously. Jamie glanced over at a nearby table where two guys had apparently been watching The Small One for quite some time and were laughing their heads off. Lovely. I think I will get her an easel for Christmas.

We lunch at JCW's rather too often. They have a killer chef salad that I am quite addicted to. The caramel cashew shake is nothing to shake your head at either! Apparently, The Small One is very friendly. After we sat down yesterday, a gentleman came up to tell me that The Small One had waved at him on another day and then waved again yesterday. He was very pleased that she recognized him. I think she is a little flirt. Takes after her dad, that way.

A Pleasant Morning

When The Small One rises in the morning, her day begins at regular speed. Which is fast. There is only one time when she goes at slow speed, and that is...you guessed it, when I want her to hurry.

She is like a small fly, buzzing around the place, alighting here and there for a brief moment, before going merrily on her way again. To be sure, she is somewhat less annoying than a fly, as she doesn't actually buzz. She does sometimes alight on me, though.

The Small One is like a mini-tornado, she can wreak havoc wherever she goes, moving from place to place and causing trouble before you even know what has hit you.

But...once in a while, oh yes, once in a while, she slows down very pleasantly. This most often happens on mornings where she wakes up a wee too early. I am sitting at my computer, earlyish in the morning, when I hear, Mamma! Mamma! Instistent and sweet, her little voice calls me away from my email, or surfing, or what have you. If I don't answer immediately, the little voice takes on a pathetic questioning tone. Mamma? This, I cannot resist. I go into the room and say Good Morning! Did you have good sleeps? She puts out her little lip in a pout and holds out the skinny arms to be picked up. And, of course, I do just that. She lays her little head in the crook of my neck and pats me on the back and I take her out to the front room.

As is usally the case, I set her down and off she goes. But a few seconds later, she is at the couch, imploring me with her wide little eyes and her skinny arms, I pick her up again. Again, into the crook of my neck goes her head and she pats my back.

I am tired myself from getting up a little too early after not sleeping well. I lay down on the couch, with The Small One in my arms. She scoots around a bit to find a comfortable position, lays her little hands down and places her head gently on them. Every once in a while, she reaches up and pats my face, as if to reassure herself that mamma is paying attention to her, and only her (she is jealous, is The Small One), I kiss her and let her know that she is my sole concern right now.

I know we should be getting up. Lilly has an appointment for pictures this morning, but the cuddly, still baby is so rare anymore, that I can't give up the time. We lay there for a while, me being reminded of when she was new and used to lay on my chest like this while I slept. Adding to this illusion is the fact that daddy used the same lotion on her after tubby that she used to wear as a newborn. I love that smell.

But, she is a big girl, now, so after about 10 minutes, up she gets, and off she goes.

Stephanie Nielsen

For those of you who may not have heard, my friend Christopher's little sister and her husband were involved in a private plane crash. Stephanie was burned over 83% of her body, but survived. Her husband was burned over 33% and is doing very well, all things considered. Their four small children are living here in Utah Valley with a sister.
If you are interested in learning more or in contributing to the recovery fund, please go to www.cjanerun.blogspot.com

The Small One

The Small One is 17 months old now. Well, 17 months and some change. But not according to her. In her mind she is at least 2 and a half. She has officially decided that she is a big kid, and therefore must be allowed to do the things big kids do. That means that she must walk, not be carried. Unless, of course she is tired. Everyone knows that big kids need a break, too.



That means no sitting in high chairs, after all, how many big kids do you know that sit in high chairs? Oh, no. It must be a booster.



She says Hello, not Hi, because of course, big kids use bigger words. And let me tell you, the little tongue poking out of her mouth to say her "L" is adorable.



She seems to have decided to potty train, at least part way. She loves to go sit on the big toilet to go to the bathroom. Sometimes it isn't successful, but what can you do?



Big kids choose their own clothing, mama does not choose it for them. Fortunately for all concerned, the Small One has excellent taste.



Since she is a big kid, she will kneel and fold her OWN arms for prayer, thank you very much. She doesn't need your help.



Also, she is growing up quite tech savvy. Daddy and the Small One like to text from time to time.





Ah, but don't worry. There is still plenty of baby left. She still likes to lay on Daddy's shoulder when she is sleepy. Binky is her best friend at bedtime. Cuddles and kisses are nearly always welcome. And of course, she is still very wee.

Birthday

I turned 34 today. Very strange. I remember being a teenager and thinking 34 was quite old. To be sure. When my mom was 34, I was 12. Now I am 34 and Lilly is...17 months. Bit of a difference there. I don't feel 34 and I don't feel old. But I do feel a bit introspective, so here we go.

Back in the day (high school) I was very ambitious as far as my career goes. For as long I as I can remember I wanted to be a doctor. By my sophomore year I knew the specialty I wanted to study, neonatology. I was fascinated by science, especially biology, and tolerably good at math. I wanted to go to BYU, although I applied to and was accepted at a few top tier schools, I wasn't good enough for a scholarship at any but BYU. My final year of high school was, well, we'll call it unpleasant and leave it at that. High school wasn't unpleasant, but everything else was.

By the time I got to college, I was tired. Tired of taking care of things it wasn't my job to take care of, but which seemed to land square in my lap. I got my first semester schedule, loaded with science classes and sighed. This is what I wanted, right? I made it through the first semester, then looked ahead to the twelve long years that would be required for me to actually be a neonatologist. And I gave up. I switched to fashion design, then to costume design, had a fabulous time in college and graduated in 3 years with a good job waiting for me. I had big plans. I would be a famous costume designer. Or better yet, a famous makeup artist. Or even better yet, I could make a career out of a side job I had had since high school. I would be a wedding gown designer. The next Vera Wang. I worked towards it, built up a pretty good name for myself, had ads in local bridal magazines. A few years later, I got married, to a wonderful guy who fully supported me in my career ambitions.

And then, a number of years later, I created my masterpiece. As I beheld it, all of my ambition to be Vera Wang dissipated, melted away. I could create nothing better than this, the pinnacle of my existence. You see, what I had created, was this...

Lilly storm pic

And here, as promised, is the pic of Lilly in the storm. Sadly, rain does not show up in pictures, but is was POURING!

It Doesn't Quite Cover the Subject or Musings on a Miniskirt

When Mr. Spencer, my 11th grade English Literature teacher was posed the question, "How long does this paper have to be?" , he would often answer, "About a miniskirt." "What?" queried the confused student. Mr. Spencer would smile and explain. It should be about the length of a good miniskirt. Long enough to cover the subject, but short enough to be interesting.
The miniskirt is a modern invention, especially the micro-mini. Though the idea behind the fashion at the time of its birth was that of providing freedom to the wearer (this at a time when corsets and girdles were discarded as being too confining), the modern mini-skirt can seriously constrain the freedom of the even slightly modest wearer. It requires (hopefully) the wearer to behave in a more discreet fashion, to sit properly, walk carefully and constantly check one's back in the mirror. How I wish this held true more often!
Though the very short skirt went out of fashion for a "short" time, it has returned with a vengeance, being worn by old and young, tall and short, skinny and fat. Not only has the short skirt returned, but it returns with a bit of a twist. No longer is it just narrow and body hugging, providing at least some coverage. Oh no, the current popular miniskirt is very short and either pleated or gathered and at the mercy of the slightest wind or quick turn by the wearer. Also rather dangerous is the vantage point provided by stairs and escalators. I was recently flashed at a shopping mall by a young lady several steps above me on the escalator. More often than I desire, I have been privy to the color of underthings the poor victim was wearing. The miniskirt makes the old admonition to always make sure you have on clean underwear more important than ever, you never know what you might be showing!
Not only is the visibility of unmentionables a hazard to the viewer, but the desire to wear miniskirts of those whose figures are perhaps not built for them. Good legs are a very important asset to those who wish to wear short skirts successfully, unfortunately, it seems only a few are aware of this. Worsening this aspect is the apparent need of many to wear above the knee socks with even further above the knee skirts, thus exposing several inches of compressed flesh.
Truthfully, I have nothing against miniskirts, and have even been known to wear them myself ( a number of years ago!) More often than not, however, miniskirts do not meet the requirements set by my high school English teacher. Though they may be short enough to be interesting, it seems they are rarely long enough to quite cover the subject.

Courtesty of Kaytee

Apparently the answer is yes, it does work. Until I try to post this one, no doubt.
I am tired and I should be in bed. The problem? I am not sleepy.
So, here is another survey thing, courtesy of Kaytee.

I am... tired and a little overworked.
I think... that life is pretty damn good, most of the time
I want... Mike's company to make more money.
I have... what I need, if not all I want.
I wish ... that finances were never a problem
I hate... not being able to control my temper
I miss... interpretive dance with Mary and Lex.
I fear... losing Lilly.
I feel... stressed
I hear... the sprinklers running outside
I smell... cinnamon apple oil.
I wonder... how Lilly will turn out.
I regret... not much
I love... love darling baby girl.
I always... kiss baby more than she likes.
I am not ...the kindest person in the world.
I believe... that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and my saviour.
I don't always... keep my mouth shut when I should.
I win... at Trivial Pursuit and Jeopardy.
I lose... when playing against Emil.
I never... make my bed
I listen... when my friends need me to.
I am scared of... being in real debt.
I read... all the time.
I am happy about... my life.

Thanks Kayt! That was entertaining.

Does this thing work? I have lost 3 posts now due to blogger being lame.

Modern Medicine

I was up very late last night (this morning) chatting with my dad and have no idea how we got on the subject, but it occurred to me that had I had Lilly 100 years ago, we would both have died in childbirth. That is a very strange and rather frightening concept.

I love surveys

I stole this one from Mary's blog. Hope she doesn't mind!

20 years ago I was:
In 8th grade at Orem Junior High.
Trying to decide where I wanted to go to college. ;)

10 years ago I was:
Working at BYU
Getting tornadoed in Wisconsin and having a nervous breakdown.
Living with Jolene, Mary and Lex. Fun times!

5 years ago I was:
Working at BYU (still)
Trying to get a bridal design business off the ground
Still adjusting to being married.

3 years ago I was:
Considering getting pregnant but having health issues that prevented it.
Making custom wedding gowns.
Buying my house.

1 year ago I was:
Having a baby.
Adjusting to said baby.
Losing 20 lbs on Weight Watchers

This year I am:
A designer for Eternity Bridal.
Still trying to lose more weight.
Having a great time with my Lilly.

Yesterday I:
Went to the State Fair with Mike, Lilly, Ethan, Mom and Gary.
Went to a wedding luncheon.
Worked on Fall 2009 designs.
Yakked with my dad until 3:30 this morning.

Today I:
Went to church.
Am exhausted (thanks, Dad!)
Worked on designs for Fall 2009.

Tomorrow:
I have a meeting where said designs are due.
Have 3 dresses to alter.
I am making pizzas on the grill. Yum.

Next year I:
Will hopefully only have one job.
Might consider getting pregnant again.
Had better be down to my pre-Lilly size.

Anxiety

I have a minor anxiety disorder. Okay, it is minor when it isn't bothering me. I remember exactly when it reared it's ugly head. It was a slow rearing, like a monster looming slowly out of the depths, then finally exploding through the surface.
I used to work in theatre, doing summer stock in the summers (obviously). One summer I decided to take a job at a theatre in Wisconsin, near Madison. Some friends were working there as well, so we chose to rent a house rather than trust to theatre housing. We found a delightful farmhouse at the top of a lovely hill a few miles outside of a small town and about 30 miles from the theatre. It was beautiful there, a wood on one side (with foxes in the woodpile, no less) and rolling greenness everwhere. Green, so very green, such as we are not used to here in the desert.
We arrived one afternoon and began unloading the moving van. I was only staying a few months, so my belongings were quickly emptied into the house. The friends had more permanent job arrangements and so had actually moved there. I stood in the kitchen, putting dishes away and not paying much attention to the world when I noticed that I felt...odd. My head felt very full and my ears were plugged. I looked up, uncomfortable, to notice that the light had changed. I went outside and looked around. Funny clouds in the sky and the air was an unearthly, weird green, and silent. I knew what this meant. My heart began to beat a little faster and I called to my friends. They came outside and the boy said the evil word. Tornado. They turned and went back into the house. What?!? Didn't they care? Weren't they worried? No, it seemed. Okay. So, I went back into the house to continue what I was doing, all the while keeping an eye on the weather. Finally it rained and the sky returned to normal.
A few days went by and I went down into the town to run some errands and look around. While walking down the street, I was assaulted by an unholy wail that made my heart stop. What in the world was that? I ducked into the nearest shop to find out and was told, oh, don't worry honey, that is just the tornado siren.
I'm sorry, the what? Don't worry? Don't those go off when someone has spotted a tornado? I wasn't sure what to do, so I stayed in the shop till the wailing stopped and then I beat it for home. Again, the weird sky, the air pressure change. Then, the rain and things returned to normal. I was informed that this was unusual for two to occur so close together. That was a relief. Ah, but this was not to be a normal summer.
As the weeks went by, the tornadoes kept coming. At least one a week. My nerves began to fray, I kept my radio on all the time listening for warnings. I wouldn't stray too far from shelter for fear of being caught out in the open in one. Then finally, it broke through the surface. I was at work, in the "barn" at the theatre. That was where the costume shop was located. On top of a hill, of all places. A very unsecure place. The weather darkened and turned windy, the radio was tuned to a weather channel, we listened quietly as the tornado watches were increased to warnings, and as the towns listed as needing to take cover neared ours. I grew more nervous, but tried to hide it. No one else seemed to care much. Finally, the boss came upstairs and said, Those of you who live outside of town may want to head for home, it is getting ugly out there. I dropped my stuff and bolted outside. Relief. It didn't look too bad, so I jumped in my car and headed down the hill, hoping to beat the storm home as we had a storm cellar there. I reached the bottom, tore through the town and up the next hill to descend into the valley in which I lived. When I reached the top of the hill, horror met my eyes, it was black as pitch. Did I keep going? Turn around? The other cars around me carried on, so I did as well. I flipped my radio on and heard what I did not want to hear. If you are in the Dodgeville area, seek cover immediately. But where? I was right inbetween the two towns, where could I take cover? Cars around me kept driving, so I did too. Then I saw ahead of me a weird swirling grey. What was it? Not the tornado, I could tell, but what? Then I reached it, rain. Insane, slashing, whirling rain. I could hardly see out of my windshield, but I noticed the car in front of me pull over, so I did the same. We were in the lee side of a hill, the safest place to be, but not safe enough. The radio kept saying over and over, if you are in the Dodgeville area, please take cover immediately. But I couldn't! I hunkered down to ride it out, numb, but thinking over and over, take cover, take cover! A painful roaring sound, louder than the rain drew my attention and I looked up, unwillingly, through the windshield and I saw it. The funnel. True terror swept through me and I was positive I was done. Branches whipped through the air and the rain fell in absolute torrents and then it passed over me...and was gone. I wasn't dead, the sky cleared and I could see the road full of cars pulling out from the side. I pulled onto the road and drove home. When I reached our place, the dirt road was completely washed out, so I left my car at the bottom and walked up the hill to the house. My friends through the door open and ran out, wide eyed. We weren't sure you would make it, they said, the theatre called to tell us you were on your way home, ,but you didn't come! How long? I asked. Two hours. I had no idea how long I had sat on the side of the road.
I went into work the next day to find the temporary "buildings" ripped to shreds. Cars had the windows completely shattered out. Worse, Taliesin, at the bottom of the hill, had lost 50 huge trees when the tornado touched down.
Okay, I thought, I lived through it, I am fine. I can deal. Hah.
A few days later my first contract ended and I had some free time at home. I was there alone when the next one blew through. It reared it's ugly head. I was done, I couldn't deal, I wasn't fine. I had to go home, home to my lovely desert with thunderstorms and earthquakes but no tornadoes.
I called my mom to have her come to Chicago and drive home with me. The friends decided to drive to Chicago with me and make a weekend of it. I picked my mom up at the train station and we drove to the hotel. That night, a tornado blew through and put the power out, I left the next morning. We drove to Nauvoo. Though I desperately wanted to get home, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I may as well have, I got nothing out of it, having spent the entire time watching the sky. At the hotel in Nauvoo, I kept looking out the curtains to make sure I could still see stars. If I could see stars, I was okay. Are you alright? asked my mom. No, I wasn't. I was far from it and in such a state that I wasn't sure I would be alright ever again. I was in a panic and could barely function. Over what? Wind?
We drove home, I drove all the way, though I was dead tired from lack of sleep. There was a tornado out the window most of the way home. When I finally drove into the mountains in Wyoming, I let out a sigh of relief. It smelled different, mountain air. And it kept the tornadoes away. I relaxed and drove the rest of the way to Provo, confident that I would be okay.
Shortly after returning home, the weather gave us a grand summertime thunderstorm and I cowered in my bed. I love thunderstorms, but all I could think of was that horrible swirling rain and a funnel cloud threatening to hurl me who knew where. But my rational mind told me I was fine, we didn't get tornadoes here.
A few days later, I watched the news to see a small tornado rip through Salt Lake City, killing one person and damaging several buildings.
How unfair.

Howler

So, Mike was getting baby ready for her tubby before bed. He took off her socks and shoes, her shorties and her dress and left her in her cloth diaper and cover. She turned to look at me with an inquistive look on her face with her little hands on the velcro closure. I nodded, off came the cover. One to go. Hands struggled to find the smaller velcro tabs on the diaper, tried to just pull it off, no luck. Finally, success, she pulled off one of the tabs and shook the diaper from her other leg (fortunately, just wet). Leaving the diaper on the floor, she took off for the bathroom. "hey", calls dad, "Put your diaper in the pail!" She looks at him, he repeats, she walks over, picks up her diaper and...goes to lick it. Ewwww. I haven't seen Mike move that fast in a long time. I guess Lilly won't be disposing of her own diapers for a little while yet.

I think she may be getting close to potty training. She runs around naked rather often and so long as someone is holding her, she won't pee, she holds it. If her diaper is wet and she thinks she can get it changed, she won't poo, she holds it. However, if she is not being held, she will pee with impunity, for instance, the other day, I was sitting on the couch, surfing the net and she had just gotten out of the tub and was having a bit of naked time. She came over to the couch to watch what I was doing, grew bored (I wasn't paying attention) and I noticed her looking down. I looked down as well, to discover that she had peed in my shoe. Lovely.

Yet again

Hey look, another entry! Already?

I just didn't finish last night's post because baby was fussy.

So, Lilly has a ton of teeth right now, more than most babies her age, so now we have taught her to show her teeth. Here is a pic of her showing her teeth, except she started giggling before I could snap it.

We went to the "water park" here in St. George today. Which really is a park with a water feature. There is a little rock wall with water running over the rocks down into a concrete "river" with big rocks in it. They also have one of those fountains that squirt up from the ground that you can run through. Anyway, Lilly loved it. She loves water anyway, so this was super fun for her. She got tired pretty fast, though, only played for half an hour or so.

The other day we had a HUGE rainstorm. It was super windy and the rain was just whipping around. I had put laundry out on the line and forgot it was there until about half way throught the storm. Mike went out to get all of the clothes, which had gotten blown right off of the line. Well, Lilly stood in the back door for a second and then decided to join him outside. It was awesome. She stood on the back patio with the rain just whipping her with her hands up to the sky, just squealing! She thought it was so great. It was cold, but she did not want to come in the house, finally I had to drag her inside and she was absolutely soaked. She LOVES wild storms. I have a pic of her out in it, but it is on my camera and I don't have it with me.

Blah, blah, blah...

Okay, update time!
We are currently down in the land of (way too hot) eternal summer, St. George, Utah. My SIL, Kaytee, is having her baby blessed this Sunday, so we came down for the celebration. And to bring down the dress, which I made. It is so pretty, very simple, but lovely white silk with a baby pink sash. Lilly had a bit of a hard time with the drive, it was 4.5 hours, which is too long for a baby to be strapped in a car seat. We ended up stopping at a rest stop so she could play for a bit. Tomorrow we are going over to the city park, which has a fountain and little river, very shallow, that she can play in, I think she will like it alot.
Last weekend, two of my little nephews stayed with us while their parents went hunting. I adore the older one, I used to be his nanny when he was a wee one. I did not know the younger one terribly well, as I don't see him that often, but he is awesome and adorable. Such a funny little boy and he talks so much. It was very fun to have them there for the weekend, I miss having my boy around. They were crazy and rowdy, but Lilly loved having them here. I think she was very glad to have them go home, though. She doesn't like having to share her mamma and her grandma. Ashley (the younger one) is very active and kind of a bully. Lilly is also a bit of a bully. Okay, they aren't really bullies, they are just kids who like to get their own way, and if no one argues, they will take their own way. Anyway, the two of them were hysterical together, fighting non-stop. A couple of times, I had to take one or the other of them over to my mom's because they wouldn't quit fighting. Tristan (the older one) was sweet and mellow and I wanted to keep him. He is my boy, I had him from the time he was born, due to my brother being in a major car wreck and his wife having to work.
When their parents came to pick them up, Tristan didn't want to go home. He is comfortable at my house, it is like home to him.
We were all sitting in the front room hanging out and at one point, Ashley and Lilly started fighting again. Lilly reached up to claw Ashley's face (a VERY bad habit of hers, which we are trying to break). He didn't appreciate it, so he bonked her in the face with the toy drill he was holding. Both Sean and Monica jumped up, expecting Lilly to start crying, since it was a pretty hard bonk. Lilly just gave Ashley some major stinkeye and went back to what she was doing. At that point, Sean just started to howl with laughter at her. She looks like a delicate little angel flower, but she isn't. She is a little toughie and a daredevil.
Must go, baby is very fussy and needs her meds.
Ta!

Bath and bed

When it is time for Lilly to go night-night, she has a routine of 4 B's. Bath, bottle, benadryl, bed.
The benadryl is for her allergies and it also stimulates her appetite, so she'll eat breakfast. It works pretty well.
Bedtime is daddy time. He has always bathed her and put her to bed, so if he is home, but doesn't want to do it and I try? No go. She won't have it. Daddy puts her to bed, not mamma. But, after her bath, she has this new thing she has to do. He brings her out of the bath in her towel and sets her down and she immediately has to run to me to be cuddled and warmed. It is so funny. She started doing it on her own and now she HAS to do it or she feels out of sorts. It is pretty funny. If she doesn't drag her towel with her, she looks up at daddy and motions to him to bring it to her.
Daddy then makes her bottle, gets her dressed and off to bed. She will not let me do it. I think it is pretty funny, and, to be honest, I don't mind at all. ;)

Lovely yarn

I am making a little beret for Lilly out of some yarn some nice person on Rav sent me. However, I didn't have enough to finish, so I dug up some of my handspun and dyed it to match. It came out very close and I am quite pleased with it. The pink came out a tiny bit too dark, but not much! I had leftover dye, so I dyed a skein of sock yarn. I love how it turned out.

I dyed it with Koolaid, jello, food coloring and cake dye. FUN and non-toxic, which is great for dyeing in the kitchen with a baby around!

Update

Kaytee wants an update, so here it is. ;)
Things are on the upswing here. Mike landed a couple of big contracts, so we should be getting regular paychecks soon. Hooray!
Also, my designs went to Market for the Eastern Part of the US and were a big success. I am working on the designs for Fall '09 right now and they will go off to the manufacturer in a couple of weeks and the whole process starts over again. Thankfully, we are much farther ahead of the deadline than last time and have a much smaller line, so this go-round will be much easier. I also want to get started on the Spring '10 line, so I don't have to do it all at once.
I have 3 custom gowns going right now, plus 3 bridesmaids. I have another custom gown, possibly two, waiting on the horizon. Also, Kaytee's darling baby is getting blessed in a couple of weeks, so I am also working on that dress.
I participated in the Ravelympics this past couple of weeks and knitted a cute cropped sweater for myself in just 10 days. Here is a pic of said sweater.

(it looks better on me than on the mannequin) I was quite impressed, as I have only knitted baby stuff, mostly soakers up until now. It made me want to start on another sweater that I have been coveting but thought was possibly beyond my current ability.
I also did a few swaps on Ravelry. Some lovely ladies knit up some cute stuff for Lilly in exchange for diapers. Well, two for diapers and one for a cute top for work.
So far, Lilly has gotten a beret, some awesome knee socks, a soaker and a pair of cotton bloomers. Soooooo cute! I will have to get pics of them and post.
Lilly is doing very well, she is a bit wild and very precocious. Wherever we go, people comment on how well-behaved she is. I suppose she is, but her constant exploring and wanting to walk by herself all the time can get annoying. I am constantly chasing her down in stores, as she likes to wander off. Today she wore her squeaky shoes to the store and we got stopped by several people who wanted to know where she got them. I normally don't allow her to wear them in public as they can be kind of annoying, but she got grins all through the store!
She is so funny out shopping. You can tell her mamma likes to shop, Lilly is a great copier. She walks up to racks and looks through them, pulls off things that she likes and holds them up to her. I love it.
She has two more teeth coming in, although these do not seem to be as bad as the last ones. She got her upper molars a few weeks ago (horrible) and is now getting her lower ones. Kid has a lot of teeth, which is good, as she loves to eat steak and can now actually chew it.
Lately, she has been plagued by horrible allergies. I do not have allergies, so I cannot tell when things are bad, but Mike and various of my family members do have them and they tell me they are all suffering right now. I feel for her, she has a lot of phlegm in her throat and it makes it hard for her to sleep at night. She sleeps better on her back, propped up, but it is a no go, she is a total stomach sleeper. On a sort of good note, the Benadryl stimulates her appetite, so she now eats breakfast every morning. She is doing better on eating and we have great hopes that she will hit 18 lbs by 18 months. Sad, but true. Bless her, she is so skinny. I ran into a friend of mine at the store the other day. Her boy just turned one and weighs around 26 lbs. I held him for a bit and he was very cuddly. Much different cuddling a chubby, round baby than my little bit of skin and bones! She looks normal to me, so when I see a normal baby her age, they look HUGE!
Today she wore this funny little '80's track outfit and she looked like a track star in her tank top and shorts and sneakers, because she is so thin like runners are.
Here is a little pic of her in a tutu. You can see how skinny!

Lately, little booger that she is, she has taken to hugging or kissing me and then doing something naughty. She is smart, she thinks that if she butters me up first, she won't get into trouble. Today, I was laying on the floor at Grandma's and she comes up, gives me a kiss and a hug, so sweet, gets up, goes around behind me and pulls my hair! Why? Who knows, apparently it is funny, because she gave her "evil genius" laugh (as my nephew calls it).
She has started dancing a lot more, she bops, which makes me howl with laughter. She also waves her arms around, so funny. Also, my nephew Ethan has taught her to jump. That is the best. Of course, she doesn't clear the ground, but she doesn't know the difference!
Oh, and she fake burps. Yep, she's a DeGrey!

Lilly is a wee thing

Well, yesterday was Lilly's well baby checkup. She is wee. As usual. At 16 months, the blessed baby weighs a grand total of 17lbs 4 oz. Nowhere near the chart. On a good note, she is the same distance below the chart curve that she has always been. So, she is gaining at a steady rate, I just wish it was faster. She is 30 inches tall, so not too bad there. The doctor said normally in a case where there is "failure to thrive" (hate that phrase, she is thriving!) they would look for a cause like cystic fibrosis (horror) or celiac disease, but her problem is twofold. Her intake is way low (she doesn't like to eat) and her energy level is VERY high. The silly baby does not stop. At all. Unless she is sleeping. She burns calories like crazy. She has a cold right now, but with the exception of her meningitis and the weird viral infection, she has never been sick. No ear infections, no throat infections, nothing. Dr. said she is "crazy healthy."
As far as her cognitive development goes, she is well ahead of the curve. Warning! Brag ahead! At her age, she should have 3-4 words and be able to identify 1 or 2 body parts. She has between 15-20 words and can identify 10 body parts. Her motor skills are well ahead, she climbs, is learning to jump (s0 funny!) can throw a ball, feed herself with a fork and spoon. She exhibits certain traits that show how smart she is. She is sneaky, in that if you tell her no about something, she will find another way to do it that you haven't said no to. She understands that if she pushes something against the wall, she can pull on it enough to get it away from the wall, then get behind it to push again. I am glad she is smart, it is awesome. She is very opinionated, as well. Big surprise. So, all in all, I guess we are doing okay with her. Now, I just need to feed her some butter.
Mary asked when I find the time to blog. Well, here's how. It is after 11, I should be dyeing some flower girl dresses and making a wedding gown. Instead, I am here blogging! w00t!

Fashion, baby!

Well, I just got back from a long day at fashion shows and rep meetings for the bridal line for which I design and...it was fun, interesting, educational, exciting and awesome. I feel like I am in a job that was just meant for me. I love it. I have wanted for a very long time to be a fashion designer, but I didn't really know how to break into the business, then this opportunity dropped into my lap and I am running with it. Even if things don't pan out in the long run the way we expect them to, I am learning soooo much so that if another opportunity comes my way, I will be prepared to take it.
I think it is rare that one can find a job that just fits. This fits for me. It is hard, it has crazy hours, but I get it. I can't explain what it is like. There is a little Tara shaped niche in the career world and I think, I hope, I have found it. I know, automatically it sometimes seems, what the next logical step is. I understand the industry, I understand the terms and I work quite well with the guy that owns/runs the biz. So, yeah, good stuff.

Too much to do

Okay, this will hopefully be a quick post.
Things are crazy busy and just plain crazy right now. I have started designing for Eternity Bridal, which is a national bridal line carried in around 150 stores in the US. I did part of the Spring 2009 line, sharing design duties with the owner. Things were a little behind (not me) and so from start to (almost) finish, I have been running like a maniac trying to get things done. We sent the designs off to the factory and had a brief respite waiting for the samples to come back. Well, they did and that is when things went nuts. There were some minor changes that had to be made to the dresses, but not big enough changes to warrant new samples, so I had to do the changes and make notes to send to the factory for manufacture. I had a week to make the changes, the problem was, I went to California during that week. I didn't know the samples were coming in that week, or I would have rearranged my schedule. Well, what ended up happening is, I got a few samples done before I left, then had two days to finish everything when I got back , because then we had a catalog shoot. They shot the first half, turned out terrible, so the photog and makeup and hair artists were fired and I was asked to do the hair and makeup. In the middle of all of this, I am still doing my regular alterations job, plus some swaps I promised to do, plus two custom wedding gowns. The shoots went great, but I am DOG tired. I have a fashion show I have to do tomorrow, then a few more corrections and then I think I am done. I could be wrong, though. I keep thinking I am done, then the boss man gives me something else I have to do. Not to mention that the next round of designs are due September 1st and we haven't even started those yet.
It has been really fun and I love designing and doing hair and makeup for photo shoots, but it has been really hard to work it around Lilly and my other work stuff. Hopefully, the next round will be better, because we are getting the designs in on time. This should mean that I can plan ahead for the rest of it.
Anyway, that is all for now. I have alts to do!!!