Frankenstein cupcakes

Last week I was the crafty mom! The house was so quiet and also so filled with sugary excitement. I never do this kind of stuff.


Happy September, all.  I am procrastinating by writing a quick post about our new home.  We hired movers once more, and loaded in all the furniture and boxes on Sunday night.  Just three days ago.  It’s a wonderfully spacious house.  It has working internet!  I should take some glamour shots with my fancy DSLR just as soon as I unpack the rest of the kitchen items, wash them all, and stock the refrigerator with fresh food!  A homemaker’s work is never done, but I’m really happy to have a home!


Lily takes a selfie!


The kitchen complete with the previous owner’s rather ancient refrigerator.


The above iPhone snapshot is from Monday night.  Sears delivery truck arrives with my new Samsung french-door-counter-depth beauty and the men refuse to hoist this monster of a fridge over the granite counter top.  It was too phat to fit through this walkway you see here.  Claiming they weren’t allowed to lift up above the waist due to minimal (non-existent?) workers’ comp, I told them to shove it over and I’d figure out a solution.  I wasn’t happy.

We hired the movers a second time, to bring the remainder of our things from my parents’ house, and they took the fridge out for us.  The foreman chuckled a little to hear about our “lazy” Sears delivery men.  Thank goodness for professional movers is all I can say!

Tonight I have a bit of a song in my heart and I feel like writing.

There are three reasons for this.

Number One.  It seems that we are nearing the close of escrow on a new house for our family.  In about two weeks, we may have keys and a mortgage!  I haven’t wanted to get excited and start shopping for curtains yet, but we received the last of several inspection reports.  Everything looks okay.  No deal breakers, just a little drainage issue under the crawlspace of the house.  It sounds scary, but I suppose that in a neighborhood on a hill like this one, water flows downhill, and sometimes gets clogged and makes mud.  Apparently this problem has its solutions, and so on we go with buying the property.  Whatdoyaknow?

Number Two.  Lily went without a nap today.  At 2:00, I tried to put her down in her toddler-bed and she got right up, twice, grinning, ready to rejoin the party.  The party was only me and her brother craning our necks over a new iPad game based on the Wild Kratts cartoon from PBS.  The game was something about bathing elephants, and it was a speed game.  Instant fun, and also completely non-violent, which is worth a mention while I still have preschoolers.  Non-violent anything is so unentertaining that it’s entertaining, right?  Anyway!  My daughter was so dog-gone tired by 7:45 having skipped the nap that she laid down cradling her Curious George stuffed animal, looking delirious.  I noticed that she had pulled a band-aid off her sucky thumb.  She sucks her effing thumb all day and night, but yesterday it cracked and bled, requiring bandages, and suddenly the child was not sucking.  I thought, this was the ticket!  Tonight, I pulled her wet digit from her mouth.  Let’s keep this up, honey!  She opened her eyes and immediately squished her face up in that silent, desperate weep.  The I am so tired, I can’t contain my genuine sorrow face.  I suddenly began to apologize and sing her a song.  It was a showtune that sprang from my lips out of sheer LOVE and the desire to comfort my sad baby.  In that moment, I knew that I was also very tired.  That I understood her.  Everything was alright, everything’s fine.  And we want you to sleep well tonight.  I could have sung Old MacDonald, but some nights, that ain’t me.  A little cry never hurt anyone, and a little skipped nap doesn’t destroy.  This last bit of daylight gave me permission to relax a little bit more.  To say goodnight, let’s start again soon.  See you in the morning.

Number Three.  My oldest friend wrote her new “about me” page for her blog.  And in it, she mentions that she has always been a writer.  How simple and true is that?  Sometimes I think that when we create in this world, we are nervous about calling ourselves artist, writer, painter, actress.  As if we have to show some sort of recognition by the experts before holding title.  What we really have to do is live.  And while living, share a little of the journey with words or pictures.  Without fear of internet stalking or future embarrassment, isn’t there a precious time to record the things that we felt and the things that we saw?

Tomorrow life is going to look a little different, certainly.


Monday was our big move day.  Can it be Friday already?

A truck arrived at our house around 9:00am and it took almost six hours for everything to be packed and stacked by the moving company.  It was a hot day.  All the doors were wide open, letting in heat and almost no breeze.  We ordered McDonalds and ate lunch on the floor while the men packed up every square inch of our garage.  I couldn’t wait to get out of there, fidgeting impatiently.  It wasn’t a proper way to say goodbye to my sweet little house.  By the time I signed all the movers documents and hit the road, it was after 3:00pm.  I knew we’d get to the Bay Area after dark, and I loathe driving up the state in the dark.


Every thing and everyone seems to have arrived safe and sound.  We are now living in my parents’ house, (Oh yes, the bedroom I had as a teenager!)…for a little bit.  I wish I could say for only two months, but I cannot be sure.  This was the plan.  The in-between place.  After all, my goal was to be closer to my family.  I know I have been keeping busy for the last 5 days, mostly feeding the kids (SO many sandwiches) and looking online at neighborhoods where we could possibly call home.  The kids still call this place “grandma’s house”, which is what it is, even though we are sleeping in our own beds and watching our own TV.  The dishes aren’t ours.  The back porch is full of boxes.  It was always an odd plan to do it this way, and so, it feels odd.  But it’s going to feel good someday soon.  Our house in Glendale is sold.  I have been looking forward to being a Northern Californian for a few years now.  So, here we are, friend.  Here we are.

Back to Blogging

Each day, we try to build on a good life, making it more full and beautiful. My best friend, Kate, and I are both preparing to move to new cities. I think these days of change need to be chronicled. Don’t you?

Last week I had my birthday dinner at a Thai-fusion place called Summer Canteen.

These super ladies are from my MOPS group.  It ain’t easy to find women to trust, to embrace, and to joke with.  It was cool of them to take a Tuesday night off (from kid duties) and have beers with me!  I was also surrounded by my sister, husband, and two girlfriends from the old place (San Jose).  It feels so encouraging to have love and support on your actual birthday — greeting cards filled mostly with jokes about imbibing wine and vodka.  But also smiles and hugs and well wishes.  AND I got to wear this gorgeous rainbow ikat dress from Madewell.  The dress has pockets!!  Why didn’t I get pictures of the pockets?  It had been languishing in my closet for too too long.  Oh, good clothes, you are worth it.


I’m 33.  This year is going to be a good one!

Tomorrow James comes home from a very long business trip in scenic Delaware.  He’s been gone 11 days, and I think that’s his record for being out of state for work.  It will be good to have Daddy back.  Sleeping alone in our queen bed feels good for one night, but then it’s pretty lame.  I know the kids are starting to feel a little out of whack with all the babysitters and the random gal pal visits from my friends.  And no, they’re not sleeping with me.  My neighbor grinned and asked me if we all slept in one bed when James is out of town.  Negatory.  Maybe I’m odd, but I feel like it would be confusing to them, not to mention my getting kicked in the face by small legs all night long.  I like to snuggle, but…WHY do some families do that?  I’m just too light of a sleeper.  And you should see the bruise on Lily’s forehead from her taking a tumble off my bed when we were playing pretend-restaurant the other morning.

On the 4th, we went to a friend’s BBQ to drink beer, eat, and watch fireworks.  My friend Jen is always surrounded by her family on holidays — her parents, nieces, in-laws, buddies, you name it.  The kids and I felt very welcomed into their circle, which is better than nothing when your silly husband is in awesome Delaware working a 20 hour day.  I didn’t have to worry about the little ones getting bored since Jen’s kids are exactly the same age.  There were toys and a lawn to run amok over.  There was also a bubbly 12 year old girl, who was some other friend’s kiddo, who took it upon herself to “watch” the baby as if she were on duty as a sitter.  She was so into helping her up and down the stairs of the backyard deck and asking her questions.  I loved it.  This girl was so petite and spunky, it reminded me how long ago twelve years old really was.

“Remember that time?” I asked Jen.  “No boobs, but lots of opinions.  It’s like the last stop of your childhood.”  The last stop before puberty.

I took this photo of Lily sitting on the doorstep of our house, just before we headed to the BBQ.  I love the way her hair flips in the back and she has gorgeous fat on the backs of her arms.  In July, you can sit on the front stoop for a little bit and daydream.  But then the hot air gets let in (or does the cool air escape?), along with a few houseflies.  Damn.Image

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