Me me me and more about me

Here is my flickr mosaic created for Spiralling's game. I'm determined to win.

1. Jessica Simpson, 2. Dark Bordeaux, 3. Leg it, 4. Tiffany Blue Washers, 5. Bad liver and a broken heart, 6. mr. imagination's bottlecaps (149), 7. Overhead, 8. Box of Macarons, 9. Today menu: Colorful fruit, 10. Love and affection, 11. Lazy Cow - Flatford, Dedham, Essex, England - Sunday June 10th 2007 - Highest Explore position - #1 on June 14 2007.WOW!!.:O):O):O), 12. Rose, Duke & Hayden

The way the game works is that you answer the following questions (I put my answers after the questions below) and then you type each key word into the search engine on flickr and choose one of the photos from the first page that comes up. I made the mosaic over at fds flickr toys.

The Questions:

1. What is your first name? - Jessica
2. What is your favorite food? - See's Candy
3. What high school did you go to? - St. Ann's
4. What is your favorite color? - Tiffany blue
5. Who is your celebrity crush? - Tom Waits
6. Favorite drink? - Lime Ricky
7. Dream vacation? - Hawaii
8. Favorite dessert? - French macaroons
9. What did you want to be when you grow up? - A writer
10. What do you love most in life? - Love and affection
11. One Word to describe you. - Curious
12. Looked up my flickr name and found something about me: I wasn't too sure what this one meant so I typed Violette Crumble into flickr and got a great shot of Hayden wearing a Rose & Duke shirt.

Harlan was home from school all of last week and I have to say the poor guy had a rough few days. One evening he burned his fingers on the stove top (I gave up on locking him outside the kitchen gate while I cook because I couldn't take the shrieking). The next night we set up his much anticipated big boy bed. Like an idiot I didn't put a guard rail on its side, but set up some sheepskins on the floor next to the bed instead. Well, insomnia struck me that night and I ended up taking a big dose of anti-anxiety pills to knock myself up. I awoke to the sound of my poor guy screaming, and wandered deliriously into his room to find Joe holding him, blood everywhere.

Somehow Harlan fell out of bed with his blanket wrapped around his legs. We figure he stood up on the sheepskins and then face planted onto the wooden floor, smashing open his lip and busting his nose. The swelling is finally going down, but in the photos below you can see his fat lip and his slightly Joan Riversesque swelling around the nose and under the eyes.

I can not take credit for these great photos. They were taken at the zoo by new favorite Austinite Mark. The picture of me tells me that my hair is indeed pretty bright in the sunlight. I think that I'm going to mix my current red dye with some dark brown and see where that takes me, despite the fact that Joe's students all really love my hair color (another sign that it might be time to tone it down a bit). I'm also stuck in the place where my hair is no longer a cute Katie Holmes bob, nor is it the standard Jessica long hair that only gets cut every ten years. I'm at a crossroads people. Either it's getting cut again or it's not getting cut for ten more years. I'm leaning towards cutting it one more time in the next couple of weeks only because I want to look good at Mike & Desiree's wedding in NYC at the end of the month (for some reason it's more important to look good at weddings even if they aren't one's own, right?) I'm also planning on magically fitting myself into a dress I got at Anthropologie while I was pregnant. Do you think I'm kidding that I bought shit I couldn't fit into when I was pregnant? I'm not. I was lucky enough to not have to wear maternity bottoms the whole pregnancy because Harlan planted himself pretty high up in my ribcage. For this reason I was certain that as soon as he came out I'd be back in a size 6 or 8. No one told me that the ribcage might not go back. I was prepared for my shoes not to fit any longer (the majority still do). I was prepared for crazy stretch marks (didn't get a single one although there are some crazy spider veins on my back and today one showed up on my shin. If only they'd showed up on my elbow in the shape of a cobweb. And while we're on that subject I recently saw a guy with the spiderweb elbow tattoo that was in the shape of Texas. I'll have to do a whole separate post about Texans' love for everything Texas.) However, the ribcage expansion I was not prepared for. I'm still going to stuff myself into the unworn fancy dress however, and I think I may be able to do it by just moving the buttons over. No one will know, right?

Hey Bub, Where you goin' with that lunch bag in yo' hand?

My little man started his first week of school this past Wednesday.

Harlan has loved carrying a bag around for a while now, and for once he is carrying one that he actually needs: His new Cream Cram lunch bag!

I told you all that I would find a way in despite names that were deposited on waiting lists while the students were still in-utero!

Actually, it is because of this blog that Harlan made his debut at a tony pre-school this week. A wonderful woman here in Austin ("R") e-mailed me a while back to let me know where I could buy Violet Crumbles in town. We wrote back and forth a couple of times and she recently wrote after reading my post about not being able to get Harlan a spot in a reputable local pre-school. She told me about a wonderful school right in the neighborhood ( a huge relief now that I am spending way too much time in the car) that her son had gone to. "R" recommended that I call the school director and tell her that we knew each other. It worked.


The first day I left Harlan in loving hands I was elated; proud of my independent and social son who waved bye-bye to me non-chalantly as he ran off to play some other kids.

The second day was not so easy. The third day even less so as I had to drive away watching Harlan weep at the realization that I was not staying with him. I spent this morning feeling like a wretched mother, abandoning her first born. I know of course that everything Harlan is experiencing is normal and that he will quickly acclimate to his new fun-filled mornings at school, but you can't reason with me when today was the first time I had to walk away from my crying baby.

Look what I got!

Aside from an electric toothbrush embroidery hoop and lens cap I got a house.
Our bid was accepted and I'm already picking out Anthropologie resin cabinet pulls for my new 50's kitchen. Unfortunately this is about all we can afford to do to the house right now. Who cares though? We got a cool house that we can call our own.

Are you wondering about Harlan and the embroidery hoop/electric toothbrush/ lens cap/ Yahoo Serious hair-do photo? All of a sudden he is into everything. It's a constant trail of destruction. His favorite new toys are my large embroidery hoop, which he throws over his neck, and my electric toothbrush. I have to buy him his own (toothbrush, not hoop). I grabbed my camera to take a photo and of course he had to nab the lens cap before running off with all three, only to drop the lens cap and pick up my sandal which he then threw in the toilet. This morning I ran around trying to get everything together to go meet some friends in the playground and I couldn't find Harlan's left sandal anywhere (note to self: buy more than one pair of shoes for Harlan). We put on his too-small sneakers and left. I finally found the missing shoe this evening in my top desk drawer which is usually secured with a safety thingamajiggy. I must have left it unlocked. Apparently Harlan's cohorts are in the same phase. I saw my friend Kara today who is 7 months pregnant, and her son Arthur who is about a week apart from Harlan in age. The rascal had her chasing him all over the street as he opened people's gates, pulled dirt out of people's planters and dumped it on their front steps, and then ran into the middle of three deaf guys having a heated discussion in sign-language on their front lawn. The guys all thought it was pretty cute and so did I, but I was in awe of Kara's mellowness as she carried him over her swollen belly, kicking and screaming. She didn't even raise her voice or seem annoyed as she said, "No hitting buddy". I feel like she's an angel and I'm going to turn into a crazy Jewish mother running around screaming at my kid every time he gets a crumb on the floor (O.K. Not even close to reality, but I just feel that way). I think I am ready to sign up for anger management half the time.

You know what's great about having our own house? No more crazy landlord. Oh, did I tell you the latest in the Landlord Chronicles? Months back I ordered a year's worth of Croq zines from Heather in Portland. A month went by and I never received them. I e-mailed her and she had mailed them Priority Mail with delivery confirmation and it was signed for. Neither of my neighbors would steal my mail, nor would they sign for my mail and lose it somehow. I was stumped. Heather was generous enough to send me new copies. FF to last week, I walk in the vestibule and what should I see but the original package. According to my neighbors their months-old lost packages showed up the same day. We can only deduce that Landlord had been signing for our packages and just keeping them in his basement apartment because he was too lazy to walk them up the front steps to our entryway. Classic.

One more bragger shot: This is Harlan in his new, super soft Baby Beehinds bamboo and cotton diaper.

Quest for Diaper

Before I talk about diapers I'll spare all of you who don't have to worry about such things. Let's talk instead about great stuff to arrive in the mail this past week.

From the other side of the planet came a great package from Anastacia, a wonderful artist whose collages I have been admiring for a while:



It's a whole bunch of handmade tags, to go on gifts for others or to be hoarded by yours truly. I love the vintage children tags the best. These are definitely getting hoarded. I am making a small package to send over to A to thank her.
Speaking of collage work, I can't wait to get my greedy paws on one of Pixiegenne's fabulous decoupage suitcases this month at Renegade. To justify the purchase I am buying it for Harlan to keep his little Leggo and Fisher Price toys in. If he ever decides he is too old for it or it's just not "him", then I'll have to take it I suppose.
This official sewing pattern arrived from Liesl yesterday as well:
When I took her backpack making class last month we used a draft of the pattern. Now I have the finished publication, along with the book with directions. Great graphics and very comprehensive.
My Martha Stewart craft supplies came in quick time this week too. Oh, did I forget to confess to a little online shopping? I ended up buying the special ruler with the edge that attaches to the rotary cutter for automatic straight lines, no matter how much booze is in the system (or my case no matter how much clumsiness is in the system):

I threw in a lovely blue ink pad (images to come soon) and a couple of circular punches since they can supposedly cut through felt.

The only craft item I have done any work on lately is finishing up this baby pillow which is reserved for Kim S:

It was a lot of fun to make and I'll do a few more when time permits. I think it's just the kind of thing a mom wants for her baby's room. I know I do!

There is not going to be a plethora of crafting this summer. I am focusing wholeheartedly on moving south which is taking up almost all my free time. So far I have been looking at houses on the market (online) and tomorrow I fly down to see a few of them over the weekend. This is the first time I will be without Harlan for more than about two hours so I'm kind of scared, but also looking forward to the down time this trip will involve. My blog posting will probably only be about once a week until I am settled in our new home (and I have internet access. They have that in Texas right?)

Now, on to my Quest for Diaper. I originally decided it was time to switch over to cloth when the garbage issue reached full force in our building. Once El Raton was discovered I decided to cut down on garbage production as much as possible. Composting happened, and recycling went nuts. I even started saving plastic bags and batteries to bring over to Whole Foods which has bins to collect these items. I also really wanted to save money and to use something natural on my baby that would also be super cute and fun. The system I have been primarily using consists of a G-diaper which is sold with flushable inserts. I do not use the flushable inserts because they end up costing as much as disposables, and they do not hold much urine. Instead I place a micro-terry insert and a micro-terry doubler in the removable nylon pocket that snaps in the G-diaper cover. I wrap the two inserts with a biodegradable diaper liner for the purpose of easy-poop-removal. Just lift the liner off the diaper and drop the whole mess in the toilet. Then drop the dirty liners in the diaper bin to be washed. Assuming the diaper cover has not been dirtied, replace the nylon liner with a new one and plop in a new insert sandwich:
This is the inside of the diaper cover with the nylon liner holder:


Here it is with the insert sandwich put in:



Here is the whole thing on:


At night I like to use what is called a pocket diaper. The first pocket diapers I ended up liking are called Fuzzi Bunz. They are pretty popular. This type of diaper is like a pair of snap on panties that can be stuffed with additional inserts to absorb urine. Each pocket diaper must be washed after each wear. The outside of these diapers are usually made of a waterproof material called PUL, and the part that touches the skin is usually micro-terry fleece.

I discovered another brand of pocket diaper that is my favorite, called Green Acre Designs. These are made and sold by another "work-at-home-mom" so that is an added bonus for me. I love the design of these diapers and you can order them with custom color combinations. I started with a brown and pale blue combo and it fits like a glove and is super absorbent. No leaks at all:


The inside material that I chose (you can choose from a couple of different fabrics with GADs) is called suede cloth and it's made with bamboo which is very absorbent:


The fit of these diapers is really above and beyond the other brands I have tried. It's very trim and not bulky under clothes. Look how cute they look on:


I would use these all the time personally, except that I am concerned that the PUL outer layer is too hot for the Texas climate. I poked around on some diapering message boards (OK, I am obsessed, let's face it) and the message I got loud and clear is that cotton and hemp or cotton and bamboo fitted diapers beneath thin wool covers are the coolest and most absorbent way to go. At first I was quite skeptical about how cool it might be to wear wool in the summer, but then I remembered my corporate days of having to wear a suit all year long, and I did have a summer weight wool number from Brook's Brothers that was surprisingly cool. Here are two beautiful wool covers I ordered from Sugar Peas:


They sell hemp/cotton fitted inserts that snap inside:


All diapers need to be pre washed a few times before they become totally absorbent. This is especially true for hemp which apparently contains oils that need to be washed out of them before use . Wool diaper covers also need to be treated with lanolin on occasion to keep them water resistant. They do not require frequent washing and do not smell from contact with a dirty diaper underneath them. I also ordered a super luxurious wool cover from Kiwi Peels but it's back ordered. These are also handmade by a stay at home mom. She's sewing as fast as she can.

If any of you are interested in learning more about cloth diapering there are some great resources online. This forum has a ton of information for beginners, on everything about the choices available to how to prepare new diapers etc. I've been really enjoying posting on the diapering forums and exchanging information and support in a friendly environment, but, get this: The forums are frequented primarily by super Christian home schooling moms and super crunchy attachment parenting types. Who knew there was a world where these two worlds collided? I sure didn't. My friends and I have mulled over what the common ground might be and I have come to the conclusion that it's mostly about simplicity and living in a natural environment.

Harry is just easier to understand.

I've been tagged by Shiso Mama for a meme about names:

Give the meaning of your kids’ names, and write about what or how or why you gave the name to your kids. Tag five people to play along and leave a comment at their blog to let them know they have been tagged.

I have had my children's names picked out since my early twenties. I've stuck to them as well. The names I have for girls are still just waiting to be used on a future daughter, even though one of the names has become slightly popular (Talullah nickname Lula). The other name will probably never be popular, Luciana. These names go with my basic theme for good names: Either they are names that sound southern and old fashioned or they are Italian. My number one boy's name has always been Harlan. I don't know where I first heard this name (or Talullah for that matter, but I did have a neighbor named Luciana when I lived out in Bensonhurst which is where I basically fell in love with all the Italian names). When I worked at Tiffany's and told all my coworkers that my favorite boy names were Harlan Clyde and Rocco they all spat food out of their mouths with laughter (it was lunch time). They said it sounded like I would have a litter of bullies.

Well who's laughing now, huh? I get complimented on Harlan's name often and he's the only one I have come across who is under the age of thirty. When I was pregnant Joe and I decided on two things together about the name, 1) that it would be Clyde, because Joe wasn't sure about Harlan but we both liked Clyde, and 2) that we would keep the name quiet until the baby was born. Thing #2 was a fantastic piece of advice given to me by my old friend Lindsay from when she was pregnant with her daughter seven years ago. She told me that everyone has an opinion and that most people are underwhelmed by whatever name you tell them. Sooo true. I have so many friends with babies now who had miserable results from telling their families the chosen names prior the the birth. One friend even had her mother in law burst into tears at the suggestion of the name Lulu. The MIL told her that the name should really be a family decision (since when?) and that she would die if she had a granddaughter named Lulu. They ended up giving Lulu a different first name but they all call her Lulu. Oy.

So how did Clyde become Harlan you ask? When I was in labor it was rough. The major contractions lasted 36 hours and there was back labor involved. After the first 12 hours at home I decided I could not handle any more "natural" childbirth and begged to be given anything to take the pain away. The anesthesia lasted for a while, but had to be re-administered over the next day and then taken away during the final hours of pushing so that I would be able to feel what I was doing as I pushed out the ten and a half pound baby-man. Needless to say Joe told me during this time that I could name the baby whatever I wanted.

When I called my grandmother and told her Harlan was born and that his name was Harlan her response was (imagine this being said in a Boston accent), "Well don't you just think people will call him Harry? It's so much easier to understand." To this day I like to call Harlan Handsome Harry as a nickname.

Not much crafting going on right now- lots of preparing to move: Looking at houses online, figuring out plans on how to deal with everything from getting a TX teaching certificate to a bio fueled car to what to keep and what to sell and give away. Plus I can't breathe out of my nose. Clairitin and Sudafed don't do squat. If anyone has any suggestions I'm begging you to put me out of my mouth-breathing misery.

By the way, for the meme I'm tagging Anastasia, Bitter Betty, Angelina, Veronica, and Ruth.

Berries, teeth, diapers, kitten, skirts

The strawberries are here! I'm not talking about the giant tasteless supermarket variety of berries that are flown in from 3,000 miles away (picked last week). I'm talking about the tiny, dark, super sweet kind that were picked early in the morning and brought to the farmer's market. The real kind:


Also really good right now is the Superbuzzy fabric that arrived earlier after I stalked their site for days waiting for the new stock. Everything I got is so lovely that I can barely stand to part with it, but I have big plans for sales. Harlan likes it so much he won't even let me photograph it:


The only thing I need to actually do is make everything. Other than that I have to sell it. Both concepts are simple in nature, but Harlan was up every hour or so for the last three nights moaning and groaning with a fever, and now I'm exhausted. The daytimes are not much better and the culprit appears to be some new teeth making their way in. I spent Tuesday evening on the sewing machine zig-zagging away on the microterry diaper inserts that I needed to make rectangular in shape so that they would fit into the G-diaper linings. Did I mention the diaper system I ended up finding? A woman from the neighborhood whom I know told me about her ingenious cloth diapering system that does not use any horrid bulky pre folds. She puts terrycloth diaper inserts or doublers into the linings of her G-diaper covers. She also wraps a bio-degradable liner around the inserts so that if poop should occur the only labor involved on her part is sliding the liner into the toilet. This system is still a bit bulkier than disposables, but I do prefer it to shelling out money and going to Target every week for disposables. Also, it's the strangest thing, but there is no odor from the diaper can with the cloth diapers.

Last weekend we went to a wonderful birthday party for one year old Hayden. I made this Japanese kitty for her and I hope she doesn't mind the lopsided eyes. I want to enlarge the pattern and make some more to sell. On the business front I have been working on some embroideries (like the cowgirl kitty in the previous post) to make into small quilted wall hangings or pillows. I am still not sure which way to go with this because I don't have an idea of what people might rather buy. I do know that my appliques are on hold right now because I am just enjoying making small quantities of items that I can work on when I feel like it. It's not that the appliques are not fun to make, but I am easily sidetracked and due to feeling generally overwhelmed these days I am reluctant to invest time in larger plans.

I got this book from Amazon and I can't believe it took me this long to find it. The book explains how to custom make any basic skirt pattern for your specific measurements. There is a super easy to understand formula and diagram for how to create the pattern on paper or directly on fabric. Even someone who has never sewn on a machine before could figure out to make their own skirts. I'm afraid I may be even more sidetracked than usual when it comes to craftiness...

Poopee Pot

Tonight I bring you a post with no photos, only text.
Why? Because I have to admit that I am overwhelmed with sweating the small stuff this week.

We returned from a lovely (albeit cold and rainy) trip to Fresno on Monday evening. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday doing my usual routine with Harlan involving making the rounds at the neighborhood playgrounds, meeting up with friends, and sitting on the floor of my living room while the gorilla from that 70's Samsonite luggage commercial shrieks and throws objects as large as his entire body at me if I pick up the phone or walk towards the computer. When he napped, I crashed hard. Nothing was sewn, stitched, knitted, or baked. No crumbs were removed from highchair trays or kitchen counters, no shriveled up grapes were pulled out from under the sofa. Mail was not sorted and phone calls were not returned. I napped on the couch and watched an episode of Desperate Housewives, and I don't mention this to be ironic or in any way poetic, it's just what happened. I took the advice of Richard Dreyfus' character in one of my favorite movies What About Bob, "Give yourself permission to take a vacation from your problems." I turned on the Tivo and ate some See's candy and did not feel guilty or unproductive. I did yoga and washed my hair, and trudged through the crumbs on the floor nestled among baby gorilla's wreckage while he slept.

Then today all hell broke loose, the small stuff happened and I sweated it big time. First of all, the cloth diapers that I carefully researched and selected arrived. The unbleached prefolds required being laundered prior to use. Three times for maximum absorbency. No problem. I loaded up 42 of the 100 I ordered and took them along with Harlan to the laundromat. I washed and dried them twice and brought them home, only to discover that they are so enormous that even if I wore them I could barely fit a pair of maternity pants over them. WTF? I ordered the toddler size based on the weight chart provided on the website. No way is a 30 pound baby going to wear these suckers. I berated myself for having wasted $100 on something I can only resell for half that price, and thought that this was the worst part of my day when the mail arrived, and in it was a big old letter from my crazy landlord.

Was it a new lease? Nope. It's a letter stating that we have been throwing out our trash in ripped up bags that he has to clean up, and that he is charging us $50 for the service. If anyone reading this blog happens to recall, my landlord rarely puts our trash out for the sanitation service to collect. At one point I went out and bought giant lawn and leaf bags and collected all the rat-eaten trash myself and put it out on the curb. I sent him a letter complaining about it and charging him for the trash bags, and his response was to call me and curse me out and threaten to throw me out. It gets better though! Enclosed with the letter are color photos of the garbage cans filled with bags of garbage that have clearly been eaten by rats. The bags appear to be shredded with a cheese grater, they are mere pieces of plastic entwined with trash swimming in a can that has clearly been ignored for at least a month. At the bottom of the letter the landlord demands that I cease putting out my garbage in this condition, or else he will "take further action". While this is clearly hilarious and insane, it just pushed me over the edge a bit and I turned and looked at my four foot pile of newly laundered, useless, $100 Chinese pre-fold diapers and wondered how I ever gave up cigarettes. Calgon take me away!

But fear not dear readers, I won't leave you on such a bleak note. My husband Joe has a co-worker at the school he teaches at who goes to grad school at night at City College, which has a very diverse and international student body. When the professor read the attendance for the first time she prefaced one of the names with, "I'm sure I'm mispronouncing this, but, Poopee Pot?" An Indonesian student replied, "Yes, I am Poopee Pot, that is correct". The class tried to stifle their laughter and the professor asked Poopee if he had a knick name that he preferred (Poop? Pee? Pot?) "Yes, my friends call me Pizza Man." I do have a very scatalogical sense of humor so I apologize if you're not with me here, but Poopee Pot has become the answer to about 50% of the questions around here ever since Joe brought that story home (i.e. "What should we eat for dinner?" "Who is hosting the democratic debate tonight?" Answer: Poopee Pot?) This is how I overcome sweating the small stuff. Poop jokes always do it for me.