Film

It occurred to me the other day, like, yesterday, that Jack will think I sound like an old fogey when I tell him that cameras used to have film in them.  And that meant you had to take the film to a little store and let them develop it and print your pictures for you.  And that you couldn't see every picture you took immediately after taking it.  There was guesswork involved.  And little men looking at your pictures.  And stinky chemicals.  And no delete button.

And that I know how to develop black and white film and print pictures, and that it's super fun.

If you aren't too trigger happy with the delete button, though, you can almost pretend that we got a roll of film developed yesterday while trying to catch a shot of Jack in this *super awesome* shirt given to him by his Tia Nancy.

First, a man on the go.  Not posing for a picture.

Second, a man kicking his Daddy's foot instead of saying cheese for the camera.  Kick, kick, kick.

Third, a man looking pensive, which is cute, but not properly showing off The Shirt, which was the point of this particular picture.

Fourth, a man outside who realizes that his parents are oddly serious about taking a proper picture of this shirt.  A cooperative man, the fourth time.

Hope your men are cooperative today,

Heather

Arts and Crafts

So, I inhabit the world of Pinterest where everything is DIY-able and really cute at the same time.  It's a lot of pressure.  And you know what tomorrow is?  Valentine's Day.

People go Craft Crazy for this holiday.  To wit:

[image credit]
Idea:  Buy candy bars and put custom wrappers on them.
With ribbons and handmade paper flowers.

Design*sponge suggests making 3-D Valentines.
I adore anything that involves cigar boxes.
(But the thought of this exhausts me.)
(And holy crap, what's inside?)

Ooh, I have a weakness for Oreos... [image credit]
But I'm not sure my red icing hearts would look even that good.

Do you see, though, how this gets out of control?  Very  much so, very quickly.  So, what's a mom to do?  I had already decided that I would have no guilt at all about not giving out Valentine's at Jack's school.  He is not yet two (though we're careening toward his birthday -- eek!).  He has no idea.  His buddies have no idea.  Valentine's for two year old are for the edification of the parents.  

And I say that, but guess what I've spent the weekend doing? [brace yourself for a contradiction]

Yup.  I sure did.

But, that's not actually true.  I've been working on these for a while, ever since I realized that I would love to get all Tiny Prints up in here for cute photo Valentines but am *not* willing to spend the dollars on their insanely awesome products.  So, I said to myself, self, what if you make endearingly simple ones for free?  

You see, a few years ago, I started buying scrapbooking supplies before I faced the cold, hard, indisputable personal truth that I Am Not a Scrapbooker.  That paper sure did come in handy, though.

Um, you can see that I stayed *minimal* with the design.
I was an English major, not an art major.

The clincher is on the inside.

Jack's super cool dude smiling face wished all of his teachers, buddies, and family a Super Cool Valentine's Day.

And he wishes you one, too.
Heather

Sick Days

Earlier this week, Jack and I shared a sick day.  He didn't feel good.  I didn't feel good.  We stayed home together.

For those of you without children, please HEED MY WORDS.  

Enjoy your sick days.  Enjoy them to the fullest.

I know that sounds like an oxymoron.  (Duh, if I'm sick, I'm not enjoying it.)  But you know what?  You are and you just don't know it.  Because when you are childless and home sick, you do things like sleep when you want, eat what you want, watch what you want, and lay comatose on the couch as long as you want.

You know what happens when you are home sick with a toddler?  You make breakfast, snacks, and lunches.  You get sippy cups with various beverages on demand.  You watch more Nick Junior than you would like on even a *well* day.  You get up to do things like change diapers, prepare meals (see above) and ensure that your child does not injure themselves, even a little.

Which led me to think that, in fact, it was Jack who was taking care of me the other day.  Because he drove the agenda for our day with a relentless pace.

First, we drew.

Yes, that is the blanket I was *trying* to be sick under.
It may or may not be a Wonder Woman blanket.

Then we drew some more, though we were just about to be distracted by Yo Gabba Gabba.  I was also distracted by that adorably chubby hand.

Also, please note that he's left-handed, LIKE HIS MOMMA.

Then we put all of his favorite things into the box.

Everybody, get in the box.  Dee Dah, you're in charge of what happens in the box.

Then, we took his favorite things out of the box.

That's enough of that, team.  Everybody, get out of the box.

You will note that our living room looked more and more like a toy store exploded in it as the day wore on.  This is a testament to my (futile but consistent) attempts to *relax* and not clean up in cycles, as I do on normal days, like weekends or whatever.  In truth, it probably took as much mental energy to stop myself from organizing and straightening as it did at the end of the day to clean up all the toys (with Jack's help, of course).  Whatever.  I tried.

We also counted to ten in English and Spanish.  We napped (twice).  We ate (me, a little; him, a lot).  We drank water and juice.  And as soon as Durel came home, I passed the parenting baton and promptly excused myself to go crash into the uninterrupted sleep that had eluded me all day.

And...you know you're a mom when even the day I've just described was actually fun, because you got to spend it with your Little Dude.

Here's hoping you contradict yourself (in a good way), this weekend.

Heather

My Day Job

So, I spend a lot of time on this blog talking about how cute Jack is, how crafty I can be, how cute Jack is...

And that's all well and good (great, in fact), but there's a lot more to the story.  I am a working mom.  And that, my friends, is a big job.  It's two big jobs.  And if your house is even close to clean and you cook things sometimes, it's three big jobs.  And if you count blogging, which I do, we're up to four.

Yesterday, this post from the hilarious and awesome Jill at Baby Rabies gave me pause.  If you're a mom, or know a mom, or love a mom, you should read it. 

Here's my favorite excerpt:

Moms, take off your armor. Smile kindly at one another. Offer grace and support. Know that every mom you meet, no matter how “perfect” she appears, is walking that same shaky tight rope right along with you. Take her hand, tell her it scares you, too. Tell her sometimes you fall. 

And so, a quick snapshot of what I do "the rest of the time," when I am not with Little Dude, my awesome husband, cleaning, cooking, blogging, or sitting on the couch watching Big Love.

#1:  Coffee.   Aka, fuel.

#2:  Work.  Aka, work.

#3:  Sparkling water.  Aka, hydration and my newest raging addiction.

#4:  A copy of the ABA journal flipped over that I've been using for a mouse pad for about six months.

#5:  Wonder Woman and the Virgin of Guadalupe.  Aka, my cheering section.

See this pic for proof that I love Scentsy, Michael Kors,
and inspirational running paraphernalia.

What am I getting at?  Nothing.  Other than that I love my life, all four jobs of it.  Thanks for sharing.

Hope you love all your jobs, too.  Because I know you have more than one.
Heather

Dizzying Speed

How did we get from this:

to this?

With dizzying speed, that's how.  I mean, wow.

Hope your day is full of flouride,
Heather

Friday

Jack and I hope you have an awesome weekend, filled with naps, good eats, and football (if you care about that, which I don't, but you already knew that).

We also hope your weekend is free from annoying traffic that makes you want to punch and kick the sky.  Like we had yesterday.

Take that!  Hee-YAH!

Over and out,
Heather

Wildlife, Part Two

So, the second reason that the San Antonio Zoo rocked our socks off the other weekend is this.  Wait for it.

It has a petting zoo.

Yes, I am aware that lots of zoos have petting zoos, but this one was great.  They have a variety of goats and pigs for the kids to pet.  They have a zoo employee (who is good with children, natch) there to make sure everyone shares, plays nicely, etc.  They have brushes for the kids to use as they get all lovey with the animals.  

Did Jack like it?  Pshaw.

I am touching two pigs right now!

Minds were blown.  Pretty sure it was just normal business for the pigs, but they made Jack feel special.

Hey Pig, how's it going? How's your mom?

Me:  Jack, can I have a smile?
Jack:  Nooo.  I am petting a pig.

Jack's love of goats is well documented.  And the goats were a big hit,  yet again.

When I grow up, I want to be a goat petter.

Hope your day is goat-a-riffic.  And that you wash your hands after.

Heather