ANU

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Cave No Turkeys

2008-12-02T16:16:00.000-08:00

Enjoyed my Thanksgiving. Our Thanksgiving. The little guy was on my lap and ate everything but Turkey. I even tried to sneak it in with some mashed potatoes. It ended up on the floor with gummy bits of extras on it. The dog ate it. He just doesn't like meat. When I was pregnant with the little dude, I craved salads and pudding. Maybe he was making requests from the inside? When I have a salad on my plate he sneaks over and picks through my leaves. He hasn't quite mastered the lettuce chomping, but he does eat the purple onions.

On Friday we (Sergio, Ianna, Aaron and Rocco) all went to Mercer Cave up in Calaveras County. In case anyone was wondering, your sense of smell disappears in most caves. However, my BO remained. I could smell it in a smell-less cave. Yeah! I was thankful for that.

Feeling kinda John Denver on All Hallows Eve

2008-11-04T11:42:00.000-08:00

Went to Breckenridge and Boulder for the last half of October. I was visiting my sister and her two kids. They just moved from Northern Virginia to 2,000 feet below the Continental divide in Breck. Many hikes and an interesting evening of dragging a little guy around to beg for candy in 24 degree weather. I adapted the pattern from a pumpkin costume, bought red flannel and topped him off with a green elf hat. What do you think?

Slow Food

2008-09-15T11:52:00.001-07:00

12 Crackers

2008-08-12T11:09:00.000-07:00

Rockets Nonni came for a visit and to this day, everyday, he asks "Abu? Nonno?" So I tell them they went Nigh Nigh. Kind of kriptic but I don't think he would understand if I said, "No little one, they live in Florida and will come back soon." Sometimes I say "Nonno and Abu nigh nigh in Florida" So no he says "Nonno, Abu nigh nigh". So I made Rocket a picture album with all of his family members far and near. He says my good friends name over and over now, "Ana, ana wooo" and then back to "Nonno, Abu." I wonder what he thinks, with so many people, coming and going. Do they all go "nigh nigh" after they leave. Hibernating until the next visit?

Pink Week

2008-08-11T10:32:00.000-07:00

What is Pink Week you might ask? Well if not the greatest week in Sacramento. Well, maybe not the greatest, but one of the best. It takes place in November and all interpretations of which are up to you. Interpretations of the colour pink that is. I have been asked to submit a piece of work for the festivities. The acceptance of which is to be determined by the judges of course. This weekend I was asked what it was the I was thinking of submitting. All I can think of is building this wooden mobile of sorts. The idea has been running around in my brain for some time now. I have two gnarly branches sitting in the back yard now. Not sure if they are the ones. Though I did take a walk into the Eucalptus groves near my house and saw some nicely cut green branches just hanging out for me to take.

So now that I have the muse, what does the muse mean. Anything? Does it need to have a defined status in space or can it exist merely for the purpose of beauty? I remember being asked to submit artist statements for each piece while I was in Art School and I had the stinking feeling that what I was writing was phony. I tried many times to conjure up the story of making. And I thought, maybe it wasn't my job as the artist to concoct the "map" for the viewer. Maybe it was up to the viewer to decide that. What I kept writing for each piece was "....The view from here is long and white and for you detailed and coloured. If you need me to explain what, then I must not have done a good job and will then have to try again." My professors hated this. They said I lacked the skills to communicate. Or maybe it was nice way of saying that I was lazy.

So I plan to continue with the mobile. Catering to interjections of pink. And if the meaning is blurred, then, I will just have to try....try...again. An arsenal of wooden mobiles. All striving to be something to someone. And somewhere in between a needy toddler nudging me all the way to finish, so that we can get back to playing.

Humboldt

2008-07-28T14:20:00.000-07:00

NorCal is a place to behold. Breathtaking scenery. Trees that dwarf a man. Some you can even drive through. Hippies young and old. Towns that buck the standard fare of Wacdonalds and chain superstores. In their place signs for BioDiesel and Natural Food Stores. It isn't uncommon to see a gypsy trailing cars and asking for a ride via her big thumb with 3 dogs in tow. And this goes on all the way up through Oregon.
A large group of people decided to go up to this lovely space and camp. We stayed in an Enviro site under second growth redwoods with only the stars and a few bears as neighbors. Camp fires, small hiking treks, wild blackberries, good people and plenty of conversation. It cleans out the cobwebs. Makes you feel human. We spoke of starting our own community and being free on the ride home. The lights of San Francisco weren't unwelcoming. Just a little disappointing. It meant that the camping trip was over. But what remains is our carved ideas in the Redwoods and many feelings of peace and tranquility. One day. But for now, framed fotos of the past and future.

8 hour Projects

2008-06-27T13:14:00.000-07:00

I have been in a sewing hole. Trying so hard to get out. But it can be daunting. Let me back up. I decided for the Rockets first birthday I would make him something he could carry with him for life. Options surrounded. But I settled on making the little dude a quilt. I began this project from a book I own.(I would set up a link but I am lazy and just struggled for a little over 2 hours to get Rocket to take A NAP! Alas. That is another topic all together. So no link.) One of the sections was titled 8 hour projects. I took notes and read the instructions over and over and over and over again. I almost went into a euphoric stroke and then, pow! I finally understood. I made my list of needed supplies and fabrics and headed out. Made a few mistakes but ended up on a Sunday afternoon with all of my gear and made a go of it. I started out like a champ. Began cutting and measuring and pinning. A week went by and I had all of the pieces ready to go. I had figured it might take me 2 weeks from start to finish. I began this project Sunday May 18th. It is now June 27th and I just put in the last quilted stitch. It is muy, muy grande. Bigger than what the instructions predicted. What remains is to attach the binding. The book suggests making binding from one of the pieces set aside. But I ended up using all but a small sliver. So with the help of my friend Blondie and her link that she gave me (again, no link. remember. 2 hours wrestling a little guy to nap)I will be buying my binding down on Haight Street and completing this mother. This Sunday. Pictures will follow. I promise.

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Butterflies
Peanuts
Japanese Kittens
Fern Blossoms

West Coast Pascua Love

2008-03-27T10:15:00.000-07:00

From Chenery to 24th

2008-03-27T10:07:00.001-07:00

Pics from our footsteps around the city. Everything is in bloom. And the fog has yet to make its summer home in my neighborhood, so we relish every bit of sun until the blanket of cool grey covers us until September. We'll be sun hunters this year.

i smell of...?

2008-03-27T10:04:00.000-07:00

Pitland, OR

2008-03-12T10:38:00.000-07:00

All bundled up and ready to go to the post office. The candy stripped wrapping contains the work of my good friend Ianna Frisby They are headed to Portland where they will be "lost" by Andrea Lampnoodle and then found by random or not so random strangers. It is a project that Ianna started moons ago and I love being a participant. The rocket and I go for loooooong walks...super walks, if you will. And while we are trucking along, I hide these golden beauties for many to find. I have left them on public transportion which is great because you can stand and watch the people on the inside look and me with great intent as if they are thinking "I will pick it up once we are out of eyesight." I also enjoy snapping fotos of my hidden pits once I have left them to be found. Click on Ianna above to learn more about her little gems.

The Souuuuuul Train

2008-03-11T10:57:00.000-07:00

I am on the hunt for a second car for the family. The truck is great when it is just the Rocket and I. He has a great view from the co-captains seat and I have a great view of his shiny face at each stoplight. But when it is time to pack the three of us in the car, I all too often, ride bitch in the jump seat. Comfy to get Pho, not comfy to go pho pho away. (tehehehhehahhhahe, GEEK!) Additionally, I wouldn't mind being able to bring our visiting friends to not so far away places without packing into the truck and packing two passengers in the back with foam to sit on. When we all crawl out at arrived destination, we might as well scratch our asses and shout "Well Goddamn!" ala hillbilly style. So I look for an automobile. I like the idea of paying little for a ride. I have been looking at Volvo wagons and the image above sends me back to the warm memories from my youth. I remember dancing along to reruns of Soul Train and writhing around on the floor like a Solid Gold Dancer Sergio and I go back and forth as he thinks we would be making a mechanical mistake by caving in on my automotive nostalgia. And I say things like:

Me: You know what I want for dinner?

Sergio: What?

Me: A 1980 Volvo Station Wagon

OR

Me: Guess what just happened?

Sergio: What?

Me: A 1980 Volvo wagon just beeped and drove past. I think it wants me to drive it.

7 years and a phew!

2008-03-09T22:21:00.000-07:00

7:00am wake up call. Diaper change then into the kitchen to wash dishes.
8:00 Breakfast.
8:30 Clean up breakfast and play.
9:00 Cranky time. Quick Story and then a siesta for the nino.
9:30 Wash up for Yoga, quick kiss and then out the door.
10:00 Transcendental Yoga Class in the Haight.
12:00 Home. Quick lunch then change for a long walk to the Beach.
(7 miles later)
5:00 Home. Quick change to rid baby body from the sand then out the door to Safeway.
6:00 Make dinner for the Rocket. Hang out and then wash and put away dishes from the am and afternoon.
7:00 Prepare bath and start a load of laundry
7:20 Start dinner. Make salad, cook crab and set table with candles and a 2 second homemade card.
8:00 Nurse Rocco to sleep
9:00 Clean up kitchen and wipe up remaining shell bits from crab dinner off of floor.
9:40 Fold clothes
10:00 Post a blog as I am completely amazed at the stamina I have mantained all day. Unreal. A whole new level of tired. My eyeballs are sore.
And, this our 7 year wedding Anniversary.

Deep Thoughts from a Cloth Diaper

2008-03-05T11:31:00.000-08:00

When I found out I was pregnant, I listed off a few things in my head that I wanted to happen.
One: A natural, drug free birth.
Two: Cloth Diapers.
Up until a week ago, I achieved neither of the two. The drug free birth went out the window with the painful back labor that lasted 14 hours and being only 4 cm. dilated, I opted for the epidural. Big mistake. The epidural made it worse. I felt pain, urges to push and yet, I couldn't move my legs. Fear, distress and hallucinations followed. Some women say the epidural is king. I am not convinced and, with the next baby, I am hiring a Doula. A woman from the breastfeeding circle informed me to "morn the loss of the birth I wished I had". But I decided to move on. Lick my wounds so to speak and heal myself.
The cloth diapers however, I have tackled. With the verve of a scientist, I researched my options. Service or self. That is, do I hire and outside source or do I tackle the diapers with my hands and washer. I attended a class on cloth diapering one Saturday afternoon, Rocco in tow. The class was 2 hours in length and I was one of 10, of which only two had babies on the outside. (myself and another gentleman) Rocco napped during it all and at the end, the class had armed me with a wealth of information and an itch to drop plastic diapering for good. I decided to call the Tiny Tots diaper service and am so happy with them . They are nice and courteous and make the cloth diapering experience luxurious. I thought it was going to be a difficult process. Full of lumps and leaks. The only downside is having a poo smell in my purse, but that makes me less of a target for purse snatchers. It feels right, the whole process. I wished I had done it sooner. The other day as I was dumping a steamy one in the toilet and I felt noble. As if my non-contribution to future generations of hermetically sealed baby shit made a difference. The difference of going without the comforts of ease and making a choice to work harder for the collective good of my son's future planet was felt all the way to my toes. I especially like the wool diaper covers. Perfect for those chilly mornings full of...pee.

full of wholesome cuteness

2008-02-25T15:13:00.000-08:00

Chrissie Hynde is My Valentine

2008-02-14T17:46:00.000-08:00

I love my family year round. Not just for one day do I show them I love them, but every day. So I decided to dedicate this Valentine to Chrissie Hynde, lead singer from The Pretenders. She fucking rocks! I am loyal even to light crap. Because she is one hell of a musician. If she were a cupcake she would have the tooth busting silver balls all over the top. If she were a dolphin, she would wear glitter on her dolphin skin. (Too far?nahhh)

Her lyrics can be timeless and spaceless. Here, you be the judge:

".....I went back to Ohio, but my pretty Country side
.....had been paved through the middle, by a Government
that had no pride....The farms of Ohio, had been replaced
by Shopping malls, and Musac filled the air, from Seneca
to Cahoga Falls....."

This one especially resonates with me,

"Don't harass me can't you tell, I'm going home
I'm tired as hell. I'm not the cat I used to be I've
got a kid I'm 33 baby...."

And for all you lovers out there how about a little Brass in Pocket tonight,

GONNA USE MY ARMS
GONNA USE MY LEGS
GONNA USE MY STYLE
GONNA USE MY SIDESTEP
GONNA USE MY FINGERS
GONNA USE MY, MY, MY IMAGINATION

'CAUSE I GONNA MAKE YOU SEE
THERE'S NOBODY ELSE HERE
NO ONE LIKE ME
I'M SPECIAL SO SPECIAL
I GOTTA HAVE SOME OF YOUR ATTENTION GIVE IT TO ME

Mothers Little Helper

2008-02-05T11:32:00.000-08:00

My Rocket has begun moving in more places than one. I thought for sure he was just lazy and then he did it. He was crawling. We were visiting los tios in Sacramento and one minute he is in the middle of the blanket playing with a jar, the next he is ready to pull the guitar from its holder. In baby distance, the guitar was far away. Too far away to reeeeeeach for with his little arm. In order to capture the movement with our own eyes, we moved Rocket back to his place with the jar and waited with baited breath. First hands and knees, rocking back and forth then an arm forward and then a knee and poof...he is crawling! He makes his way over to the guitar then, after out clapping and hooraying, he makes his way onto his bottom and CLAPS!!! First crawling and then clapping! Amazing. Leaps and bounds!
So I plan on teaching him to help me out throughout the day. We will start with some light cleaning..like this!

Un Regalo Tan Lindo!

2008-01-22T17:11:00.000-08:00

Hoy recibimos un regalino de Florida. Una amiga de mi suegra hicieron estos "booties". Me Encanta! Y Rocco tambien. Muchisimas gracias Mirta!!! Besos para vos!

Il Giro Della Scatola

2008-01-21T11:51:00.000-08:00

2008-01-20T10:29:00.000-08:00

Coffee Sweet Coffee

2008-01-20T10:02:00.000-08:00

So the baby wakes up early. This is pretty much a no brainer. I have never met a woman whose newborn "sleeps in." And if she says he does, then she lies. I look forward to our mornings now. Thought they begin before our birds want to wake up, I know that we have to begin our nice little routine. I never thought that predictability would lead to baby freedom, but somehow it does. By having him know that say, after he eats his yogurt he gets to bounce around and poop in his door jam jumper. It is here that he gets the sensation of shitting in his pants and then squishing it around in his diaper. And I get the sensation of Java. Sweet warm javalisciousness. I brew the coffee while I make the Rocket his breakfast. While I am feeding him, the aroma begins to make its way around the kitchen. Then after he is done.....into the jumper and....ahhhh, coffee per la mama! I even dream about it. Last night my Dad's brother, who I haven't seen since I was 18 was telling me that coffe tastes best with mucho sugar. I happen to like it sweet and very milky. He then explained that after the first cup you can't add anymore sugar but you can add some juice and maybe even some orange marmalade but definately no sugar. Weird. The rest of the dream kind spiraled out of control and ended with me driving my mother in laws' lexus down a flodded road that eventualyt became a river. The car sank and my Dad, who was the passenger thought maybe we could pull it out. He asked, "Are you feeling strong, lets do this." I tried but my foot went into a snake hole. THE END.
Today, I plan on making some more yogurt from this baby food recipe book. It looks pretty easy. The most difficult part of the process is managing the temperature. Too cold and the cultures are ineffective. Too hot and the yogurt tastes like ass. The book states that your first couple of batches will be more trial and error and by the third or fourth one, you will have achieved yogurt nirvana. So this is the second batch. The first crashed and burned. It looked like what happens to a milk shake on a road trip without a shower. Who knows what the second one will be like.
While my yougurt is on its journey, I plan on firing up the sewing machine. That is another ball of wax. I will talk more of that on a later date. As for now, I need another cuppa. Who knows, maybe I will put a little marmalade in it.

Cactus Muffins

2008-01-16T11:50:00.001-08:00

The Cute Sleeptaker

2008-01-09T10:37:00.001-08:00

Sleepless and Dreaming

2008-01-09T09:51:00.000-08:00

I don't get any sleep. I want sleep. But my little bundle of babyness just won't stand for it. I remember sleep. I know it remembers me by the telltale crusties in the corners of my eyes. But when it comes in waves of 3 hours...somehow my waking days feel more like.....

You know, kind of like I am riding around and around with no direction, just forward and around. I would like to make some pretty things with my wonder sewing machine. One day. Maybe somewhere in my dreams. But even then I don't think I would have enough time.

Responsible New Year

2008-01-03T10:38:00.000-08:00

I have never, ever, ever been the designated driver. Wait, there was this one instance in college where I was the designated driver but I couldn't resist the margarita temptation, and, well, had one too many. This year, I made sure that my family and friends were safe and drunk. I was glad that they could fill their hollow legs and get down without hitting the streets after downing one for the ditch. I was happy to aide in there fun filled night and see to their safe arrival home. I think my responsible attitude rubbed off because our friend Aaron was dolling out vitamins at the end of the night.
Aarron: Hey who wants this grouse tasting vitamin
Sergio: (grunt, moan.....gulping down some whiskey with a vitamin back)
(10 minutes later)
Aaron: I am turning out the lights man.
Sergio: (groan, slides off chair and walks out the front door)
Ianna: I saw Sergio outside communing with the plants.

About 20 minutes pass and Sergio comes back in and "falls" asleep. The next morning he claims to have been poisened by the evil doer and his vitamin. He puked in the plants outside. Hah. Vitamins. I wonder if maybe the gin and tonics had anything to with it? Intentions were good though as were the New Year festivities.

Grateful Poodle

2007-12-28T10:40:00.000-08:00

So after a long night of sleep and not sleep (many awakenings for my tit), I was thinking about writing about my introduction to the Grateful Dead. I am by no means a "dead head". I have listened to my share of their music, but as of current, I own nothing by them. But at 16, I was cast into their midst by my dog's barber. And so the story goes. My mother asked me if I wouldn't mind picking Rio (our angry break skin biting cockerpoodle) up from 'Milts'. "Sure, no problem". She gave me the address and with my 1980 Oldsmobile I made my way there after school to pick up the little fucker. The name of the joint was "Bark and Brush" and as soon as I walked in, I was hit with a strong odor of flea collar and crazy doggie powder shampoo. The place was 1970's paneled and had dated ceramic dog figurines sprinkled throughout the little nook. "Hi there, you here for your dog?" a skinny old gay cowboy of a man asked me. In hindsight, he reminds me of what would have happened to John Waters had Ms.Divine been a poodle and not a giant drag queen. "Yes, I am here for Rio". "Oh yes, he is almost ready. Be about 20 minutes. Ya mind waitin?" The thought of inhaling the strangely perfumed air made me kind of ill, so I decided to see what this row of shops had to offer. "I'll be back", I shouted. I walked next door to what looked like a tie dyed banner shop with jewelry cases. Upon entering I was hit with the undeniable smell of Nag Champa. The long haired lady behind the counter greeted me. "Anything you need and I am here." As she said this I noticed that she was busy dubbing tapes...many, many tapes. "The last East Coast tour was a blur. Many heads have asked me for my collection, so for a small fee I can recreate the miracle. Did you catch any of the shows?" I was caught off guard by the question and asked blindly, "What show?" She looked as if I had just shaved her poodle. She disappeared behind some beads that I would later decorate my first apartment with. She popped back out with a large grin and a tape in hand. "Here, take this. It's an awesome set from a show in San Francisco during the late seventies. I am sure you will like it." I thanked her and then asked her the time. She told me and I excused myself to go and pick up my poodle from next door. "Oh that crazy fucker. He shaves your dog? I have done more acid with that gut than I can count. See you soon dark star." The thought of the old man who "shaves" my dog doing acid was funny to me. I thought how funny it would be if I picked Rio up and he had been cut like a hedge and given a Star Wars bun on his ass then topped off with a giant black bow. "Rio is all set." Milt called to me as I entered and he handed me the fluffy white nightmare."See you in a couple of months. Bye Little Darlin." I was disappointed to see he had the same marshmellow cut with a patriotic bow right in the middle of his demonic noggin. None the less, a dog barber on acid is still a great thing to imagine. I popped the poodle in the back of my sweet machine and he instantly began rubbing his head on my seats removing his bow and ultimately his weird dog powder scent on my seats. I put th gifted tape in and listened. It wasn't bad. I liked the noise of the crowd. The awkward pauses in between some songs. I could see the band members with their instruments and then I heard the unmistakable whine of Jerry's guitar. I looked up just as I began pulling away and I saw the banners above reading "Gratefully Dead" and "Bark and Brush". The endless combinations of the two together is insane. For example "Gratefully Brush Dead Bark". I pulled out onto my tropical streets with music blaring and my coiffed poodle hanging his head out the back window. Forever changed and unchanged.
I returned quite frequently to that head shop for more tapes, dead stickers and paraphenalia. I thought is was cool to have a big box of live music as if it somehow conjured up the actual time and place again, only in my medium sized head. I even caught a few shows myself. Fun, fun, fun. I am not sure where any of those tapes are now. I don't think it matters.
Jerry Garcia, Rio my dog and Milt the poodle barber all died around the same time. The shop has long since moved. Blame it on endless gentrification and megastore ridiculousness. But those memories live on in my brain. I hear a song by the "dead" and know all of the words, am hip to many of their shows in the 70's, 80's and 90' ,and I am filled with the warm memories. The dead are dead. Long live the Dead.

Holiday Wishes From Some Wooden Ornaments

2007-12-25T11:55:00.000-08:00

Hears to hoping that this little pink angel brought you everything you wished for on her sweet little sled.

baby bread

2007-12-23T12:40:00.000-08:00

He loves his bread. Cute barrier...broken.

I hate deadlines

2007-12-19T13:23:00.000-08:00

So I have decided that Christmas and the giving of gifts will continue until the last stitch is sewn. Does that mean there will be some people getting their gifts the 28th? Maybe. And what is wrong having a little extended christmas surprise. In Italy you continue to get gifts until Epifanna, (when I lived there I had no idea that they were talking about Epiphany, I thought that Eppifanna was a witch who left candy socks making Italians that much cooler. Well, that and the fact that most straight men wear tight jeans, yahoo!) And Eppifanna the gift giving witch gives until the 5th (i think). So my deadline is arbitrary. And Christmas will be as long as we like it. Mine are the gifts that keep on giving, well, until you get them.

Holiday Party Love You Funtime

2007-12-17T12:05:00.000-08:00

We made our way to some close friends househ for a pawtay. I enjoyed being with a group of fun beings. We played games, exchanged gifts and the only thing missing was a pirate santa with a slab of salmon in his beard. (huh, weird to be weird? yes) Rocco got some sweet toys to play with and I got the best gifts ever.(fotos later) Here are some shots of the shindig. The holidays minus working = festive flavor. Cheers!!

red rocket

2007-12-12T20:57:00.000-08:00

hooray!

flu puff and a panic attack

2007-12-07T10:34:00.000-08:00

So I think that I am the only person who says to the nurse as she is about to administer a flumist that, "I am a little nervous." She didn't even flinch as she instructed me to "swallow, don't inhale." What followed was completely psychosomatic. I was nervous in the Walgreens while buying some water and infants tylenol. Feeling a little dizzy, I thought, what if I have a bad reaction to this shot and pass out while driving down 19th through the park section. My emotional fire blaze that was beginning to spread at the thought of this "reaction" was immediately squelched when I thought, "But Rocco is fine, I bet he would be able to drive." A driving baby, hah! Silly Mama. Day 2 after the flumist and I am feeling fine. Though my pee smells weird. Kind of like mustard.
Rocket on the other hand, not so good. The shots have left him feeling like maybe he crashed into a baby wall. No driving for him today. Only rest and tlc. Poor little beetle.

wet baby and wet mamala

2007-12-06T15:05:00.000-08:00

Baby Facial

2007-11-16T10:20:00.001-08:00

I was boiling some apples yesterday for the little Rocket and when I looked over the pot to see how they were doing, my pores were opened up by some apple vapors. Is there such a thing as an apple facial? If not, then I just invented it. I can start out small by offering them in my garage.."40$ apple facials...so green you can smell my compost bucket" Then into my own shop, decorated like a pie and the chairs will all be in the shape of slices and the workers dressed like apple farmers. After much notoriety , I would then expand into making jarred facials that you could buy at your local market and then at the peek of my fame...a Dept. store. hmmmmmmmmmm......

New

2007-11-15T09:55:00.000-08:00

I have been inspired to change the way this blog appears. I want it to be viewed in more ways than just, "hey look we had a baby and now we do nothing but stare at his cute face all day." And though I do just that from time to time, I would also like to share my creative interests as well. I was a corporate slave for almost 5 years. During my captivity I would walk past an art store and think, "I SUCK! 6 years of art school...and now, this?" I had the ability to buy the art supplies but not the time nor the energy to do anything with them. I put my heart and soul into my former job, working close to 50 hours a week and then increasing that work load to 65-70 hours a week during a busy spell. I learned a great deal about myself and took classes at Commi to better my job performance. But I was theirs. And now, with a new baby in tow....I am mine again. I get to stay home, watch my little turtle grow up and work on some sewing and painting. I promise myself nothing but time. If what I am making sucks....so what. I remind myself that I am not hustling through a crowd to get a space on the train, to juice myself up on copious amounts of sugar, coffee and nicotine, work work work, out to a bar drown out my stress with my work mates and a bottle of wine, then back onto the train to arrive home with just enough time to kiss the hubby and pass out. I am making for me now and sharing it with whomever would like to see what I have done.

I am...

New.

Iggy Pop and his Liquorice Ropes

2007-11-12T10:38:00.000-08:00

Candy displays.
Muffin tins with brown sugar.
Glitter covered gold fish.
50 cent pony rides.

Love

The Art of Napping

2007-11-08T09:17:00.000-08:00

So, when they first come out, babies love to sleep. In fact a book on breastfeeding a newborn suggests that you "strip them naked to keep them awake during a feeding." And then, something changes. That once sleepy bundle seems to think that 30 minutes of rest twice a day is enough. The result of the 30 minute napper is a very cranky overtired bundle of squirminess. What I didn't know that if left untreated, the non-napper will then continue this pattern into the evening hours and wake continuously while you try to get some much needed z's. The result of this is a very tired, cranky Mama bundle. Who knew that the Nap was an art form. Contemplative and so aesthetically pleasing when it lasts for 2 hours at a time.

Cool new digs

2007-11-03T23:30:00.000-07:00

My baby's bananas over bananas. (say this with a Jerry Seinfeld accent) It started with the water glass at lunch. He kept grabbing it out of our hands and actually drinking from the glass. So we went to the baby store, bought a high chair and mashed up the bananas in a bowl, and voila, Rocco's first sweetie. The high chair is pretty cool. Made in Sweden. YAHOO!

Golden glamour baby shots.

2007-11-01T22:47:00.000-07:00

TEE HEE!

Liederbabyhosen

2007-11-01T22:39:00.000-07:00

I love winter baby hats. In fact, I like anything itty and baby like. Even baby alligators are pretty charming.

Halloween Time

2007-10-26T08:49:00.000-07:00

Sweet

2007-10-17T22:32:00.001-07:00

2007-10-17T22:28:00.000-07:00

2007-10-17T22:26:00.000-07:00