First I'm Gonna Make it, Then I'm Gonna Break it 'Till it Falls Apart

We didn't accomplish as much this weekend as we had hoped, but we did get a lot done.

We went to both farmers markets, Aaron finally dismantled the last of the greenhouse (now we can take all the aluminum to the recycling center), and I got some sewing time...

I've been wanting to make myself a satchel for quite a while. And I'm completely convinced that had I had a satchel last summer, I wouldn't have had the stupid fucking foot experience.


So this weekend I made myself a satchel. The body and (extra super-duper long over-my-shoulder) handle are linen, with cotton accent.


The inside is lined with a 30's print (big surprise, I'm sure) and pockets (for my wallet and cell phones) matching the outside accent. The linen is lined with some interfacing to give it a little more substance, but keeping the softness and floppability. The bottom has a removable fabric-covered cardboard piece to keep the shape.

I wanted something I could easily throw over my shoulder, so I have both hands free at all times. It's big enough to stow a couple of diapers and wipes as well as two sippy cups and a bottle water.

Because, you know, I have to have my priorities straight.

So, that's what I did this weekend: spent an ass-load of time making myself something for once.

(And this project brought a long a huge discussion of making stuff and selling it and telling Aaron about etsy and hyperventilating into paper bags because who the fuck would buy something I made?!)

Some Boys Take a Beautiful Girl and Hide Her Away From the Rest of the World; I Wanna Be the One to Walk in the Sun

Ah, the weekend is upon us. And we are busy making a list of things to accomplish, such as get more gas for the grill and rototill and garden, garden, garden and laura time to sew and OP farmers market on saturday and KC farmers market on sunday. It's just a lovely list.

Friday Lego Love (aka: birth control)

I have many reasons why I write; some include a diary of sorts so I can remember what this is like, these bittersweet moments of having two very young boys with various medical issues, the mindset of myself (always trying to find the humor in it all, if you haven't figured that out yet), a chronicle of trying to find "me" in this chaos of mommy-ness.

But another reason why I write is to make people think. I know people with children who need more medical help than I could ever wrap my measly little brain around; I know people who think I'm somehow a saint for having to deal with the chronic allergy issues we have here. And I write to be provacative.

So dear anonymous reader who keeps leaving me seemingly horrible comments, thank you.

Words have a power, a control over people. And I'm proud to have reached a point in my writing where I can say something and someone, somewhere gets so upset that they shake their fists in the air, mumble "oh, I never" or have to say something, anything to convey how upset they are.

Knowing I am striking emotion in people -- laugher, disgust, any emotion -- that is an awesome feeling.

Say My Name, Say My Name

"Hey, Mommy. Your name is Laura"

"Yes, Griffin."

"Your name is Laura."

"That's correct.""

::uncomfortable silence::

"Laura."

"Yes, Griffin, but you call me 'Mommy.'"

"But I think I want to start calling you 'Laura.'"

"No, you call me 'Mommy.'"

"Laura."

"Perhaps I should get my name legally changed to 'Mommy,' that way no one can call me Laura or Mom or Mother..."

"OR MOTHERFUCKER. That way no one can call you 'Motherfucker' either!"

We Are the Earth Intruders, Muddy With Twigs and Branches

Oh, farmers market -- how I love thee.

Have I mentioned? Darwin has to sniff every herb he finds.


This is "gold edge lemon thyme" and it? Is awesome. Totally awesome. I'm going to plant it in a really cool blue pot I have out back.

And I purchased some more strawberries from California. Yeah, that's right Lawrence Farmers Market Person -- I bought some more strawberries. Ha.


And I really think I need this clematis. Really. Perhaps I should go back. Really. I think I need it. It's haunting me with its beauty.

Better Stop Dreaming of the Quiet Life - Cos it's the One We'll Never Know

Yesterday afternoon I forced the children to go outside.


Yes, forced.


After 30 minutes of listening to Griffin whine ("but I want to go watch ca-a-a-artoo-oons"), he finally warmed up to being outdoors once I noticed some inch worms.


Griffin is like the Bug Whisperer, I swear. This child loves bugs and bugs love him.


And Darwin loved the inch worms too.


"Come here little dude, get on my finger."

Just a Little More Time is All We're Asking For

Ugh.

::breathing::

Excuse me for a moment... ::breathing:: :: breathing:: ::breathing:: ... okay, thank you.

Damn. This is the first time I've had an opportunity to sit down. Gah.

This weekend was crazy -- lots of walking around town, lots of walk down to the school's playground, lots of walking around Science City, lots of walking around the house pushing a vacuum cleaner and mop. Lots and lots of walking.

Did I mention the walking?

And then this morning we had to Haul Ass to get to the boys' dental appointments by 9 a.m. (and when I say "we" I mean "me, dragging the children along"). Then we had to go grocery shopping and then we had to come home so I could wrap up my pink and green swap stuff to mail out because of course today is the deadline so then we had to Haul Ass the post office and damn ::breathing:: I'm exhausted.

pink and green spring swap teaser (background is my old baby blanket, that is now Griffin's favorite blanket, and yes, he loves the pink so Just Back Off, okay?)

Um... um... I'm sure I have a lot more interesting things to say, I'm just too damn tired to remember them so yeah. Have a nice day.

I'm Sorry Baby, I Didn't Mean to Turn You On

I totally rock.

Of course, you already knew that, didn't ya?

Oh, wait. You're probably waiting for a reason. Well, hmph. ::stomping feet:: Perhaps this will appease you:


I made a zipper pouch.

Fuck yeah, I MADE A ZIPPERED POUCH!


And look! It's lined! And it's pretty! And I turned my sewing machine into my little bitch!

(And people wonder why I titled this site "no appropriate behavior." Ahem.)

Anyway, I've been working on it for weeks (fucking Sears, they don't stock my sewing machine parts and took FOREVER to send me a fucking zipper foot) and look! It's done!

Go me! Go me! Uh-huh! Uh-huh!

Well We Talked About Nothing Which was More Than I Wanted to Know-ow-ow-ow-ow, Now Here We Go

Over the course of the past few months, I have been helping my dad get his new business venture off the ground.

Getting a new business venture off the ground is a complete pain in the ass.

You know what else is a pain in the ass? Not having customers. That, too, is a complete pain in the ass.

Anyway, enough complaining (be glad I didn't mention that my dad calls me countless times a day) (count. less. times. a. day.) (and we bicker, because he wants to do things they way he wants to and I want to do things the way I think we should) (I have a degree in Advertising for cryin' out loud) (he should listen to me) (totally) (all the time) (for I speak the advertising gospel) (I swear) (it's not even 9 a.m. and I've talked to him eight times already today) (somebody, help me) (please)...

My dad's new business is cleaning ducts. Like, the ducts in your home. Do you know how nasty those are? Seriously, we had ours done two years ago and it looks like an animal has crawled in to each and every one of my vents. Dis. gust. ing.

Anyway, my dad came around to choosing this new business mainly due to my boys' health issues (hello, chronic allergies!). Our allergist actually recommends that we have our ducts cleaned every six months, the "average" home should get their ducts clean every two years.

Most duct cleaning services just vacuum the ducts, they don't use any special brushes to gently lift the debris off the sides.

Guess what! My dad's does!

You know what else my dad can do? He can put a camera down your vents and show you what they look like. (It's totally gross, I assure you.)

He also has a special solution that kills pet dander, dust mites, mold, pollen and even helps prevent against spiders.

Regardless if you live in the Kansas City area or not, regardless if you call and use my dad's business or not, getting the duct work cleaned in your home is something that should be done on a regular basis for the general well-being of everyone.

Just think of how much the air in your home gets cycled and recycled and recycled and recycled and look in your vents and think about it and ewwwww... I'm grossing myself out and I haven't had breakfast yet.

ANYWAY, now that I've fully whored out my father's company, you can contact us! Seriously! And if you call, you will talk to me and then you can make fun of my high-pitched squeaky voice free of charge!

::hanging head in shame::

I Never Took the Smile Away From Anybody's Face

The boys and I went to the farmers market this morning.


Farmers market: how I missed you so. ::sigh::


I miss the for thine beautiful flowers...


I miss the for thine beautiful, locally grown, fully ripened fruit and vegetables.

Of course, I had to keep yelling at Darwin, "Stop! Stealing! Strawberries!" "Darwin! Stop! Stealing! Strawberries!" "Seriously! Darwin! Stop! Stealing! Strawberries!"


In his defense, these are Really Good Strawberries.

Ah, farmers market, I missed you so.

Me, I'm Supa Fly (Uh-Huh), Supa Dupa Fly

The awesome and fabulous Jojo came up with a award... The Guilty Blogger Award.

It's a self-rewarding award, perfect for those of us who are complete slackers.

Or as I like to call myself, a complete asshole.

I fit all the criteria -- spending too much time on the computers reading other blogs (ahem), guilty for not responding to comments (EVER -- I'm such an asshole), guilty for lurking when I should be commenting (oh, hell yeah), guilty for sitting around and doing nothing when they should be doing something for the blog (hi, my name is Laura, I'm an ass-sitter) and the biggest one of all... guilty for not posting pictures of swaps in a timely fashion.

So, let's demonstrate what a massive asshole I am, shall we?

First up, a very sweet package from Kirsten.


I received it last week, amiss all the bodily functions going on here. I just thanked her yesterday (asshole!). And the biggest kicker? She made me all those awesome patches because I'm nice.

I? Am an asshole.

Let's look at another example, shall we?

I received a lovely package from Toni a few months ago (a! few! months! ago!)...


A beautiful pin cushion. I think I thanked her via email.

I? Am an asshole.

Or how about that package I received from one of the most talented people in the Universe, Manda...


::sigh:: It's all so lovely. Again, I thanked her over email (that was a huge package too, everything has since been consumed) and never posted my goodies.

I? Am an asshole.

(let's not forget: I have a plethora of assholes around me, stealing my stuff as well) ("My tree, Mommy! My tree!")

I've received other bounties as well, bounties I don't even have pictures of yet (because I'm an asshole). Goodies from Michelle (a strawberry pin cushion and tissue pouch), goodies from Amy (thanks for the apron book, by the way, because I know I haven't thanked you yet; because I'm an asshole), goodies from Lera (who always remembers to send gluten-free treats for the boys), goodies from Tasha (I miss you! Sorry I'm an asshole!) and I'm rather certain that I've left someone out, somewhere...

Because, in case you haven't noticed, I'M AN ASSHOLE.

(That award better come with a trophy. I want a trophy.)

(I'm such an asshole.)

And Baby, Talk Dirty to Me

Last night Aaron came to bed and snuggled up to me. He rested his head on my shoulder and laced his fingers into mine.

I began to think, this is what life is all about, this comfortableness and knowing at the end of the day, ultimately, everything is okay...

And Aaron sighed softly and whispered in my ear, "You're right: you do kinda stink."

Everything Falls Apart Then I Get to Try to Put it Back Together

We are all still alive.

I never got very sick, mainly because I decided fuck that shit and refused to eat. Which, hey! Totally works! Who knew starvation could be a friend? And I totally lost the Easter weight so added bonus!

Of course, now I'm back to being my gluten-free foodie self. (Piggy likes to eat. Swooeee! Swooeee!)

Sunday Lego love

Having sick children is quite an interesting fiasco. I'm use to the atopic dermatitis, the food allergies, the occasional runny nose and sensory issued meltdowns.

But I've never quite willed someone to have solid poop. Or please, for the love of everything good and holy (or demonic and evil -- however you choose), will you please just not puke anymore this hour. Darwin experienced five days of puking and six days of diarrhea. And I experienced the joys of cleaning all that up in the house and the van and Griffin's school and in the driveway and at Whole Foods.

Being stuck in a vortex of disgusting germ-infested bodily fluids is not a fun place to be. And hopefully, I will not be sucked back into it anytime soon.

I'm a Wonder Woman, Let Me Go Get My Rope

Thank you for all well wishes for Darwin. He is finally doing better, keeping gluten-free pretzels and Sprite down. He won't touch the jello though.

And my house is Super Clean. Especially the bathroom. Which is great. Because I'm going to be spending way too much time in there today, despite all my hand washing the past few days. ::sigh::

I'm really tired of all the sickie talk around here, so I'm gonna shut up until I have something better to say.

You Can't, You Won't And You Don't Stop

Darwin's sick.

Not food-allergy sick. Oh no. This is puking-34-times-in-a-single-day sick.


I had really big hopes for today, naively thinking he wouldn't be sick today since he slept through the night.

I was totally wrong.

We haven't been up for two hours yet and the baby has already puked six times.

Oh, wait. Seven. Yes, seven. And now I have more puke to clean.

And I Know I Can’t Tame You...But I Just Keep Trying

Easter was great. I spent two days cooking and gained seven pounds. You really can't beat that.

egg hunt booty; more photos on flickr

Of course, today is a special kind of hell. Darwin woke up at six this morning puking his guts out and now has chronic diarrhea.

Nothing says Happy Spring Time Holidays like food induced illnesses.

You Didn't Have to Make it Like You Did, But You Did, But You Did and I Thank You

This week I have received two parcels in the post (two!).

The first was a surprised package from Sadira at Foolsewoode. She was the first to comment for the magazines, which I had snarkily suggested the person getting them should rub them on their naked body and she totally did it. TOTALLY.


She sent me a painted tote, some awesome tarot card fabric, a chocolate bar ::drool:: and a beautiful handmade card. And I've been carrying that tote around all week. Love it.

And yesterday we received our miniswap package from Malene in Denmark.


She made the boys totes and collage art. She also sent lots of candies, a few toys, lots of pirate paraphernalia and even some legos.

Thank you so much ladies!

There’s Nothin’ Much That We Can Do to Save You From Yourself

Dear CBS,

Rumor has it across the internet that you intend on canceling The Class.

This is, perhaps, the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life (read: a crock of shit).

In a day and age where networks are rushing-rushing-rushing to put any ridiculous Average Joe (read: Blow Joe) onto television in a reality series (read: crappy television), the sitcom is a dying art. Specifically, the sitcom that caters to people that have more than three brain cells.

Let's lay it on the line CBS: I'm a nerd. My husband is a nerd. We are striving (yes, striving) to raise nerdy children.

We are people that like to think. People who enjoy witty banter. People who understand mathlete jokes. And most importantly, people who enjoy the usage of colorful language.



And we aren't the only ones! Have you forgotten that The Class won The Best New Comedy Award for The People's Choice Awards last year? Have you?

Is it really your desire to be known as the dumbass network to outbid all the other networks in order to acquire The Class only to cancel it after one season? A year from now, do you want The Class to be shown on Brilliant But Canceled and have everyone talking about what a utter and complete failure CBS is a network?

Because if you cancel The Class that is exactly what will happen.



Did Benjamin Franklin quit trying to discover electricity after the first try? No, he did not.

Did the music industry drop Nirvana after one album? No, they did not. (And where would we be without Nevermind? That album changed the course of music forever.)



Don't you understand, CBS? The Class totally rocks and you are being indecisive. Over what?

Are you scared of success? Because that's the only logical conclusion for your inability to immediately renew the contract of The Class.

The world needs more laughter. And you can make that happen.

Sincerely,
Laura Capello

P.S. In normal situations, I would also chime with who's dick do I need to suck off to make this happen. Unfortunately, given that I am married and this is Hollywood, I haven't said that due to the fear that someone's actually going to take me up on it. But please note, the sentiment is there and that's how strongly I feel.

What More Can I Say to You

"Mama? Hey, Mama. Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"Darwin."

"Darwin who?"


"Darwin a punk! RRRRRROOOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR!"

Someday You Will Find Me Caught Beneath the Landslide

By Saturday morning, our driveway looked like this...


... and our greenhouse looked like this....


... and just so you know, I saved you from a close-up picture of the dead possum that committed suicide under the greenhouse. Be thankful.

A part of the backyard looked like this...


... and my kitchen was full of these...


... with the recipe posted on my gluten-free recipe site. ::drool::

The past few days have been really hectic and today is shaping up to be another one. ::sigh:: And it really doesn't help that my allergies are in over drive and my eyes are constantly itching and watering and yet are really, really dry. Urgh. Now I'm remembering what I like so much about winter.