Archive for September, 2011

September 30, 2011

9.29.365: My tiny world

I love reflections. They make everything look more interesting and fun.

That’s probably why I like photography so much too. It makes everything in life look so much more important and note-worthy. Even silly things, like the marble you found in the living room carpet while vacuuming.

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September 30, 2011

9.28.365: Shoes

I’ve never known a kid to get so excited about the prospect of going outside.

Just putting on his shoes makes him downright giddy.

September 26, 2011

9.26.365: A helpful tutorial

September 25, 2011

9.25.365: Porch Soccer

Because when Uncle Justin is around these kinds of things make sense.

It doesn’t occur to anyone that playing on the concrete THREE FEET away would be easier, make more sense and cause less of a ruckus until after the game is done.

September 24, 2011

9.23.365: This is Two

Two does not sit still. Two climbs all over you when you’re trying to sleep. Two jumps on the bed and then laughs when you say “No jumping on the bed!” Two thinks the world is made of magic and sunshine.

Two is probably the best age ever.


I have no idea how he got here so fast. Happy Birthday, Bubba!

September 24, 2011

9.22.365: Not done yet.

I love Children’s Hospital. Real, honest, Love. Capital L. I truly believe they saved Bright’s arm.

But, I can still say that no matter how great I think they are, I’m tired of seeing them. I’m tired of waiting rooms and doctor’s offices. I’m tired of chicken nugget dinners. I’m tired of driving two hours each way in a sketchy car with no air conditioning. I’d like to be done now, pretty please.

Instead we’re stepping up the appointments again because her scar is getting too thick. They want to watch it closely so they can intervene before it starts to restrict her movements.

I’m grateful for doctors that care. I really am. I’d still like to be done. It’s okay to feel a little bit sorry for ourselves, isn’t it?

September 24, 2011

9.21.365: The Gathering

Every night in summer, these guys gather around my windows and doors. The light from the house attracts every bug in the forest and these froggies like to catch them for dinner. I think it’s a lovely symbiotic relationship we have.

I really hate bugs and I really like frogs. This works for me.

September 24, 2011

9.20.365: Oops, I did it again.

Note to self: Stop going to the school. You are out of time and yet when ever you show up there you somehow end up volunteering for something else.

September 19, 2011

9.19.365: A Pimped Out Crib

I hate gardening.

Really. Hate.

But it’s one of those things that people who own homes, who are also pretending to be responsible adults, have to do. So, I do. However there is one amazing aspect to gardening. You find things like this tucked amongst the rocks in your planter. (Wait- is it a planter if it has no plants, just weeds? I’m going to assume yes.) I can imagine the moth that emerged from this blinged out cocoon. He was all, “Later, broz. This place was cool, but I gotta fly yo.” And then he threw a West Side Planter sign and took off.

My head is a very strange place.

September 18, 2011

9.18.365: Laundry is eternal.

I’m re-doing my laundry room. I’m not 100% sure why, except that it is in my hallway and has no doors so every time I walk to my bedroom I’m confronted with the horror that is my current space.

My budget is $20. Think I can make it happen? Today I made a home for my laundry soap for free. That’s a good start.  It was free because I had the old Ikea bin in the attic, the paint in a drawer and I bought the vinyl a million years ago from somewhere online. I didn’t measure anything or have a clue what I was going to do before I started doing it because I’m a complete bad ass.

Also, I’m lazy.

So if it seems off-kilter to you, just ignore it.
Home for soap

Why a home for laundry soap? Because even laundry soap needs a place to belong.

…and possibly because the laundry bottles are ugly and make me go a little crazy when I see them thrown on top of the dryer. I swear I don’t have OCD…