Lepidoptera...Phobic!

I've mentioned before the fear of moths and butterflies. When I was pregnant with Finley, I started a some-number-of-steps self-made and -inforced program to rid myself of this phobia. I quit. Because me being pregnant means that I'm a crazy person. Yes, more crazy than a person scared of a butterfly.

Anyhow, I'm at it again. For anyone who isn't anything-phobic...this is a big deal. This isn't scared. It's panic and terror and sickness. Yuck. No one likes all that right? So, let's be done with it! I'm starting with pictures. Sounds lame, but a lot of the time seeing pictures of moths and butterflies makes me physically sick. Chills and nausea sick. So that's the starting point, then hopefully I can get my hands on...or eyes on...or be in the general vicinity of some dead ones. A science museum exhibit or something like. And then move on to live fluttering monstrosities. The culmination of this project will be immersion. Butterfly conservatory. If I do this, I'm getting a tattoo of this guy...
Okay, that's probably a negative.

I'm giving myself a whole year for this. I figure one year is a sufficient amount of time to rid someone of twenty-something years of psychosis. So, save the date. Family and friends, this time next year there's a party happening here.

There will be cake.

Indecision and Spoilage

I've just spent the last hour to hour and a half of my life trying to decide on a cloth diaper, where to buy it, whether to try more than one, what bloody colour. I cannot make a swift decision to save my life. God help me if my life actually did depend on it. Anyhow, I'm nearly checking out at diapers.com with some Happy Heinys and a bumGenius 3.0...Yikes, this makes my head hurt.

This is a constant issue in my life. Indecision is part of the reason I have yet to try cloth diapers at all. Or that it took so long to start feeding my kitties raw food. My husband is a jump in and go sort of guy. Just try it. If it doesn't work...oh well. Me? I just relentlessly research something until I've found so many contradicting information that I want to combust.

Also, diapers.com is not letting me use my promo code. Not cool. Anyhow, for all you cloth diapering mamas...I was reading reviews and got a good tip. Instead of buying those washable baby wipes, cut up receiving blankets. What else would you do with them anyway? Well, barring future babies.

So, jumped on that bandwagon and saw Avatar. I'm not entirely sure what constitutes a spoiler. I'm not planning on writing anything that I feel would give away anything central to the story or that you couldn't most likely deem from watching previews. And certainly not much, if any, more than I knew prior to watching the movie myself. But just to be safe...spoilage commencing now.

...

Basically, the storyline is pretty classic. It's like Dances With Wolves meets Fern Gully. Why is it that in these movies, the person doing the betraying never fesses up until it's (almost) too late? I like to think I'd say something sooner. Anyhow, the saddest part about this movie is the measure of truth it holds. And I'm not even just talking tree-hugger talk. People are so savage to other people, different people. But the movie was stunningly beautiful. I thought the soundtrack and occasionally the acting was a bit lacking. Not bad, just not in keeping with the visual aspect of the movie. All in all, I liked it. I could probably watch the first half over and over. It did go all Lord of the Rings about halfway thru and my lack of a Y chromosome started kicking in. "Just stop fighting already!" Make no mistake, I love LOTR. But I'd be lying if I said excessive battleage didn't tire me just a bit. Favourite: the size ratio of the Otimacaya (hoping I got that right...) to their surroundings.

...

I called 1-800-diapers to find out why my promo code for $10 off your first purchase of diapers wasn't working. Turns out cloth diapers don't count, but the guy I spoke with gave me the discount anyway, plus $5. Cool, eh? He also thanked me for the laugh...I ended up spelling my ridiculous email address to him something like 5 times.

Mission accomplished.

Baby Dinosaurs

Yesterday, I was about to start writing about camping when my baby girl woke up. Oh, and while we're on the subject of babies...I apparently missed the memo that you are to refer to your spawn as the first letter of their first name. Am I possibly the only mom on here careless enough to go with the whole first name? No, I know I'm not...but still, I just did a bit of blog surfing and realized there are an awful lot of J's and G's out there.

So, camping. Ever been camping? You know, the real sort. In a tent, cooking over fires and wiping with leaves? (Side note...I watch too many kid movies and now quote them in my head all day long. Just now I thought to myself, "Who wipes?!" Random useless 10 points to anyone out there in blogland that knows who doesn't wipe.) I'd say that I've been camping on 3 levels. The grandparents' RV...tents with little public restrooms a fair walk away...and the camping trip that stands out above the rest. The real sort. But we had toilet paper.

I always hated camping. Some hippie, eh? No, my hatred is almost entirely based upon my fear of moths. And butterflies. Creepy boogers, no? Anyhow, the blasted things frequent campsite bathrooms like you would not believe. You would not believe it because I'd wager the average sane person doesn't even notice they're there. But the tiniest sleepy winged fuzzball will set my heart racing and my stomach lurching even when I'm not expected to shower with it. That said, camping never much got me excited.

But once I went on a weekend camping trip with a friend of mine during my freshman year of high school in Georgia. Her family had property up in the north part of the state somewhere, I forget the name of the place. I can't honestly remember why I decided to go in the first place. Guilt, possibly. A general inability to state my own opinion in the face of someone else's wishes. Not sure. But I was dreading it...right up until the moment we drove into a lovely little clearing surrounded by sun dappled woods. There was a creek, complete with silky, sparkling rocks. Little hills all about. I have a terribly flawed remembering mechanism so I only recall bits of the trip. One bit, I refused to poo, worried that the boys along with us would "walk in" on me. When pooing in the woods there's no doors, you see. And when you're 15 there's no way in hell you're going to risk getting caught defecating by a load of boys, even if they are younger and you have to suffer a bit of discomfort from holding in. But aside from this charming recollection, I remember cramming into a tent with something like 8 people and waking up wet from rain and/or dew that had made it inside. I remember the freshness of the air. The purity of being there like we were. And I remember an afternoon sitting beside, and eventually in, the creek with the girl. I do not remember any moths.

Ah, reminiscing. Way to bore the bloglings.

In other news, one week going strong chocolate free! Exciting until one realizes that it's still 93 days to the finish line. My husband, D (wink), is not much help. He tried to convince me that chocolate milk is somehow not classified as chocolate and that I should have some. He's given up his beverage of choice, the dreaded Coca-Cola, until I can have chocolate again. His logic was that his drinking of chocolate milk is like a substitute for Coke so therefore it would serve as a substitute for my chocolate. This is very flawed, as I pointed out to him, because chocolate milk does indeed contain...well, chocolate. But my will triumphed, I'm glad to say. And ladies, those of you who can no doubt sympathize (or empathize?), it is that time when resisting is most difficult. Ahem. As I've already discussed poo, I'll not go into such an indelicate subject. But hear me, girls. I know you do.

Alright. I'll wrap up with a bit of nature's cuteness. No fuzzy bunnies here. On our walk this evening I found this...I also stumbled upon a decapitated yellow bird. By stumbled upon I mean that my daughter nearly sat on it. It looked the work of pussycats. But this little treasure lit up my day. When I showed it to Colson, she said "Baby dinosaurs?"

Eee-arrth

We watched Lilo & Stitch today...Hence the title.

It's nearly 3 in the morning, I'm exhausted, but I didn't feel right not making a post on my hippie blog on Earth Day. I love Earth Day. I love that there is such a day. I wanted to do something celebratory but basically we just did the usual walk and sat in the grass for a while. Which, in actuality, seems quite appropriate. Colson bathed a tree in dirt and "planted" some hibiscus flowers she picked and marveled at the lizards. I always want to give lizards an extra z. They deserve it.

The littlest is waking...and I to bed.

Lizzards!

One Million Words

This is what I want to be as a photographer. To be able to capture people, their essence. To capture real. I love these guys. So. Very. Much.

As it's getting late and I have chores and artwork to attend to, I'm out.

Stay-at-home Superhero

Everyday I wake up ready to begin my day as Supermom. I will not lose my temper. I'll have patience in spades. I'll manage my time, clean the house, cook an amazing supper and play with my girls. I'll dance with them and sing and bathtime, bedtime, potty training will all go smoothly. I will have it all together. Piece of cake. Yet inevitably, every night I go to bed with a fresh set of good intentions for tomorrow.

It's like with the chocolate. Yeah yeah, I ate chocolate yesterday too. Now that there aren't any delicious Hershey's triple chunk brownies lying around I think my chances of success have increased exponentially. But the point is...I'm not really sure what the point is. I try. I fail. If at first you don't succeed...

Colson is sick as a dog, poor girl. Finley's already on the upswing of this flusomethingorother. But all Colson wants to do is rest and sleep. Sure sign she's not feeling well. The girl never wants to sleep. Sometimes I wonder when the panic sets out. Ever? Lets up is what I hear, but never really goes away. See, my dad once called out Scotland Yard because I missed an orthodontist appointment and woke up at 11 in the morning in college. Hung over? Not quite...almost. I remember driving Colson home from the hospital. Sheer panic. Horror. I was unaware that one could use rolled up towels to make a carseat lay back properly and her head was flopping all over and I was in hysterics. I hadn't actually gotten over it by the next two weeks when we needed a trip to the grocery store and insisted on walking. Like...2 miles? I don't know. It certainly felt like 2 miles to my first time ever out of shape post pregnant self. So I made the phone call today to my Mama, asking if she thought my tired baby was okay. She did. :) Of course.

For any parents reading tho, I know one parent will probably never agree with everything one pediatrician says, or website or other parent. But I've really come to respect Dr. Sears. I came across his stuff reading about vaccinations. The Vaccine Book, with accompanying website. But since reading the book I've frequented askdrsears.com for reliably straightforward parenting advice. I appreciate the honest, fact based, no scare tactics approach and the respect for informed parents whose first concern is their children's well-being.

...try, try again.

Confession. Yes, already.

I ate chocolate. :( See, I warned you...the stuff has complete control over me. No excuses. July 25th it is. And the husband says, "Why don't you try realistic goals?" "Like what?" "I dunno...run a mile or something...but you not eating chocolate? Come on." Nice, eh? So here's my game face. It's on, baby. Again.

I read Men's Health magazine. I'm not sure why I get all these free magazine subscriptions, but Men's Health is one of them. I really enjoy it too. Jimmy the Bartender's Q&A column is the best.

So, tonight I made my husband's specialty for dinner. Okay, not really his specialty, but something he makes often. Herb crusted salmon and mashed potatoes and sauteed asparagus. Yum. I was psyching myself out about the removal of the skin from the salmon but when I got down to it, it was surprisingly easy. And I think this may have been the first time I made a decent bit of mashed potatoes. I mashed them with a meat tenderizer. I don't cook much, by the way. Or well, usually. Colson, my 2 year old, wanted to help. She got to put the potatoes into the pot of water. So I was feeling pretty empowered until I started trying to de-stem my thyme. Can anyone say pain in the arse? I need to figure out how one does this efficiently. Anyhow, my empowerment returned when I started sauteing the salmon. It smelled so wonderfully rustic and delicious...like I was cooking in the cozy English cottage in my head, with stone floors and herbs hanging from the ceiling. It was fantastic. So, I dished up and it looked pretty and tasted...well, mediocre. But I enjoyed the cooking, and that's a fairly rare sensation for me. Plus, I'm used to my husband's cooking (a chef...yes, ladies and gentlemen...I am blessed) so perhaps my standards are a bit high. He, by the way, rated it an 8 out of 10, which I thought a bit generous and quite possibly a lie. But the best part. The icing on my salmon cake...was my girls playing together and keeping each other happy.

My second daughter is 5 months, Finley. And she's now showing (a lot of) interest in playing and toys and sitting up on her own. Up until now Colson's been great about sharing and I was expecting a good drop in friendliness once Finley actually cared to be shared with, but so far so good. My girls adore each other and for now, most of the time, fingers crossed knocking on wood...they're sweet to each other. Yay!

I'm thinking about cloth diapers. I should've thought about them sooner, but it's never too late right? And Finley's still got a good year at least of diaper days ahead of her. I think in the long run it would be cheaper, I just think the upfront cost will be more. But what really got me going on this was reading some statistic (that I don't remember) about the amount of diapers in landfills. And just knowing how many I've already thrown away in my lifetime. Yikes. So I'm looking into it. I have a fresh box of Pampers and I'm thinking maybe, hopefully by the time that's used I'll be starting with cloth. Wish me luck!

Oops, it's almost 3 AM...

So, I'd like to begin with saying...I recycled! For the first time. That's almost pathetic. But it's true, I've never done recycling. Ever. Until now. We took our first little batch out to the main bins yesterday. I didn't realize just how much we waste.

I'm listening now to Regina Spektor's Ghost of Corporate Future and, not only do I love this song and Regina in general, but whenever I'm in a social situation that finds me nervous or anxious about other people's reactions or opinions, I sing this to myself. "People are just people, they shouldn't make you nervous, the world is everlasting, it's coming and it's going...

...if you don't toss your plastic, the streets won't be so plastic..."

So what about tossing plastics? What about those envelopes with plastic windows? Or ziplock bags? Or anything that doesn't have the little arrow triangle printed on it? And the caps to bottles, milk jugs and the like? Askin' my questions and get some dancers.

That's my 2 year old's version of Ariel's song. Answers is the original lyric, for those who don't sing Disney songs all day long. Not just Disney songs, really. My girl's a big fan of The Beatles. Her favourites being Let It Be(ep), Hey Jude, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and Yesterday. Girl's got good taste.

Alright...in a show of will I will be taking a chocolate sabbatical. No comments from the husband here, I want only encouragement. 100 days. A good solid number. Chocolate is my vice. Okay one of, but really, the worst. Chocolate has complete power over me. But no more! 100 days and then a significant increase in moderation. I won't give it up forever tho. No, no. Chocolate is one of those things I will not sacrifice completely. Like whole milk dairy products. 2%? Low-fat cheese? Skim?? I think not. And no last hurrah for me either. I begin this instant. Why do we always wait to start things? The beginning of a year? A day? A week or month? Why not the beginning of a moment? Start. Now. Farewell, Chocolate, my friend, my lover...until the 24th of July at least.

Sometimes Ben Folds makes me think of Kermit the Frog. Anyone feeling me here?

Go listen to You Don't Know Me by Ben Folds. Better yet, go make a Regina Spektor station on PANDORA and enjoy some lovely tunes. Right now, people. Why are you still reading this? Go!

"...and if you kiss somebody then both of you'll get practice." ;)

Hullo! Okay, so I've put way too much thought into this...How does one begin blogging? Eh, I dunno. So that said, forgive this first post. Intros aren't my savvy.

I am going to attempt a bit of an introduction, tho. This blog is to serve a purpose, or purposes rather. For myself, as a medium for writing. Something I used to do and don't anymore, aside from the fairly regular Facebook status update. Keeping myself literarily fresh. Ironically, I'm pretty sure literarily is not a word. Moving on. Also, as a means for holding myself accountable. Those who list this as a talent must surely know the importance of it. I, however, am not so good at it. Yet. I'm luckily still a work in progress. So, I'll write. Let myself be heard! Roar. Feed my little kitten of an ego. Mew. ;) And...keep myself in check. And then I'd also like to think someone eventually might read this and hope to gain something from possible imput, comments and such. And even maybe, I'll inspire a bit. We shall see.

So, there's my...er...mission statement. Now, onto a little explanation as to what I actually plan on writing about. Mostly, my environmentalist tendencies. Convictions. I have a lot of them. Do I follow thru with them? Eh, not so much. But this is a fact I'm trying to remedy. To walk the walk, do as I say, practice what I preach and all that. That and actually do my research. Learn. I have plenty of beliefs I don't practice and then some that I do but for no other reason than I heard someone say once that I should. This is a matter of integrity, folks. Down with hypocrisy, mediocrity! Rally! Phew. And I'm sure there'll be a fair amount of talk on good food, music, art, movies, kids, etceteras, etc.

And hopefully some decent writing.

So, let's get excited! It's bloggin' time!