spirited away

Setting: Bedroom. Luke and I are watching "Rear Window" and folding an enormous pile of clean laundry.


Me: Gosh, they are so dumb. Why do they have to get involved with this guy they think is a murderer? Especially Grace Kelly, sneaking over there like that.

Luke: Well, that's kind of the point. She is supposed to be super straight laced, bordering on square.

Me: Right, I got that, but...

Luke: And he kind of falls in love with her over the course of the movie because she is really straight laced but also really genuine and...

(said at the exact same moment, in unison)

Me: spirited
Luke: blazing hot

(I 100% should have seen it coming.)

speaking of nicknames

Luke calls Alice: Sally, Sal-pal, A, and A-Bay.

Luke calls Clark: C, Billy and Bill.

At least he did.

Until I started singing...

"MY BOY BILL I will see that's named after meee! I will! MY BOY BILL He'll be tall and as tough as a tree!"

in my most dramatic voice every single time he used the name.
And maybe I did some dancing.

The look on Luke's face every time I break into song makes me laugh. And laugh. And laugh.

And sing louder.

That's all. This isn't much of a story.

(He has cut down on using "Bill" as a name for Clark, but I have to say that I have also caught him singing this song when he thought I was in the other room. He probably wouldn't want me to tell you this but he doesn't read my blog so he doesn't really get to pick.)


june bride

Six years ago today I married Luke. I was barely twenty.

We are celebrating by watching "Sandwiches You Will Like" on PBS on our new enormous television. I think I want to make a sandwich tour of the USA now. With Luke. He would drive and I would sing really loud in the passenger seat and he would make up nicknames for all of the sandwiches we ate (he is the best nicknamer ever) and our kids would sit in the backseat and smile and eat maffalettas without flinching or complaining or having to stop to use the bathroom because this is a fantasy.

I love you Luke. And I love my life.

(With or without a sandwich vacation.)


off to fetch my umbrella

At about nine o' clock I was settling in and preparing myself to watch "The Dark Knight" on our new television* drinking a very large caffeinated beverage to stay awake and praying my kids didn't wake up.

And then Alice woke up. And then Clark woke up. And then the thunder got louder. And then our power went out.

Suddenly I wished the caffeine had been wine and that I was in any way sleepy whatsoever because there was nothing to do but go to sleep in our powerless house.

Instead of going to sleep, we sat in the dark living room (I recently threw away our candles because I was doing one of those crazy-lady stuff-purging sessions) and I sang songs to keep Clark from freaking out. I sang "This is the day that the Lord has made" and "One Last Kiss" from Bye Bye Birdie and "Think Happy Thoughts" from Yo Gabba Gabba. He decided he wanted to go to sleep. Praise God. I would like to think he wanted to go to sleep because my singing was soothing rather than bothersome thankyouverymuch.

We also listened to Alice say "uh-oh" over and over as she crawled and bumped around in the dark. Hearing her voice excites me for the future. She is a real girl, MY girl, I can just imagine her talking and whining and singing and being my little comrade. I can't wait to make dinner with her and buy her a prom dress and watch her star as Kim MaCafee in her high school's production of Bye Bye Birdie. (I mean probably. Not that I think like this or would expect this or anything. But I do have tap shoes she can use.)

At one point Clark pointed outside and said "Look mom a puppy dog!" and my heart lept and I was compelled to rescue the cute little puppy making its way across our front sidewalk. Then I felt like Brenda in "Adventures In Babysitting" when I realized it was a rodent, scampering away (from where??) to escape the storm. Also, I think our patio umbrella is now in a neighbors yard. And our neighbors are kind of far away.

We were shockingly well prepared for this situation, sitting around with a battery operated lantern and a battery operated iPod Touch and a battery operated laptop. We are able to play word games and type blog posts in the battery operated light. You know, instead of enjoying the peaceful break from technology and actually hanging out and interacting. Of course if I want to go to the bathroom I carry the battery operated lantern with me Laura Ingalls style. Or Elizabeth Bennett style. In my imagination, here in the dark, I can be both. (Okay, in my imagination I can always be both.)

And oh look! The power just came back on. Time to play word games and type blog posts by electric light. Should I drink caffeine to cancel out the wine that I drank to cancel out the caffeine?

*We are officially people with a big flat screen television in our living room. My hubby was able to purchase one almost entirely (we payed a very VERY small amount-- one Target trip of money-- out of pocket) with Best Buy Reward Zone coupons and credit card rewards. As much as I wanted a new fridge instead (ours is awful and the door doesn't close all the way and it leaks water all over) it is Father's Day weekend not Mother's Day weekend. I resisted a large TV for a long time both because we are dirt poor and also because I wanted to preserve the aesthetics of our tiny living room. But I really like seeing Luke excited about stuff.


You Capture: Emotion


I don't think I have anything to add to this except a good laugh. Go see the rest of the emotions on parade at I Should Be Folding Laundry!


I've been traveling.

Here's the fun thing I mentioned yesterday.

A guest post for Beth on I Should Be Folding Laundry!

I'm very excited about it. It's all about stuff I wish I could buy on etsy, so you know you want to go read it and leave a comment please pretty please with a... strawberry on top.

Here is a preview--

I think I need to put this in my house or maybe have it tattooed somewhere accessible that I can flash at people from time to time.


Hi friends

I have been driving all over the state, picking strawberries, buying stuff at the thrift store, rearranging all of my living room furniture and working on something fun that will be posted elsewhere this week. I'll fill my blog back up with the large volume of content that has backed up in my brain over the next few days.

Right now I am running on three hours of sleep.

So that's all you get. But I really wanted to say hi anyway.


You Capture: Nature

Mr. Star Wars Undies and I found a very hungry caterpillar.

We gave him one nice green leaf (that he had no interest in, sorry Clark) and watched him for awhile and then let him go. "Back to his mommy and daddy," Clark said, "and he will turn into a beautiful butterfly."

Yep. Back to his mommy and daddy. Where he turn into a... into... a moth, according to google images. I have a moth fear. See ya later caterpillar, I hope your mommy and daddy live kind of far away and not in my garage or something.

Go check out Beth's blog, I Should Be Folding Laundry and see the rest of the fun and lovely naturey nature posts.

WJW (it means "wow, just wow" and Luke and I invented it and hope you all will start integrating it into your slang)

I have felt this post coming on for a long time but have never quite known how to say it.

I'm still not sure I do, but I'm going to try the stream of consciousness thing and see if it works.

Here we go.


When I was pregnant with my second baby, I was having an innocent conversation with a friend about how I wanted to have a natural childbirth when someone walked over to us and looked me in the face and said, "When I have a baby I want to have all the drugs because I don't have anything to prove! HA HA!" and people laughed like it was a funny joke and I felt really stupid and also kind of just mad. I went totally silent. I don't think I said a word for 45 minutes.

She didn't mean a thing by it. She didn't mean to hurt my feelings. But she did. And she kind of closed the door on even having a conversation about it.

I don't. . . have anything. . . to prove.

I wanted to shout at her "I'm just trying to live my LIFE, man. I'm just trying to LIVE my life, man." It's real life people.

I don't have all the answers and I am figuring it all out as I go and reserve the right to change my mind but I am doing the best I can and I am thinking hard.

My natural childbirth? My blog? My taste in whatever? It's what I like and what feels right and what I am drawn towards and I take these decisions seriously. This sounds self-important but I swear I am just using myself as an example because no one else gave me permission to blog about them. By "me" I really mean everyone. You are just doing what feels right, right? You, reading this, right now? You are just being you.

If you do things in a completely different way than I do it does not matter to me. I will like you if you are kind and friendly and can laugh and not shut the door on conversation of all kinds because hey! I like to chat! And I like to hear different perspectives. And I will still think your shoes and blog and epidural are wonderful for you and good choices for you and believe it all to be TOTALLY VALID. For you.

Just not for me, today. (Though I did have an epidural with Clark-- who cares?)

But it doesn't mean either of us has anything to prove. So don't pick on me.

It's a miracle that we are all so cool and different. Truly. We all have special talents! And gifts! And designs! I know this is coming off cheesy in a You Are Special Today kind of way (though sadly not in a Today's Special kind of way-- Jeff the mannequin with his dapper hat and vest was one of my first crushes) but gosh darn it people. You are special. Please be yourself in the biggest way possible. Do the best you can and think hard. And don't apologize. And please don't ask me to.

(This is not the way I meant this post to veer. In fact, it ended up being kind of like my facebook meme post but... rereading it... negative? Sheesh. My real point was that I love everyone and let's all be best friends and somehow I made it sound like I am mad at the world. I may blog the other tangent that I had in my head soon.)

(Of course, have you ever noticed that when I hint or claim that I am going to blog about something in particular I never do? I have dozens of half-written posts saved as drafts.)

(Also I just deleted a lot of the funniest parts of this post because they seemed lame but now without them the post seems even lamer and more serious and I am wishing I hadn't hit backspace over and over. Maybe I will just go ahead and put up my You Capture post and then no one will ever read this!)

(Also the title isn't relevant anymore because I deleted the part where I actually used my newly invented catchphrase "WJW" but I am leaving the title as it is anyway because thinking of titles is hard and I am ready to hit publish and go to sleep.)

(Half of this post is now in parenthesis. Sigh.)


the girl, the boy, and the swimming boy WHO CAN FLY

Do you talk to yourself? I do. I was the kid with imaginary friends. Not just any imaginary friends, but super talkative weirdo imaginary friends who did imaginary sign language with me. My thoughts are pretty conversational to this day. No sign language anymore, but probably mostly because I am using my hands to do other stuff. Haha! I'm kidding. Or am I?


I have been doing so much talking in my head lately that I don't have anything leftover to talk about here. So consider me uninspired. Or just sick of hearing myself talk.

Instead I give you a photo of one of my childhood toys. My Calico Critter bunny with the ear bracelet. Can you believe that ear bracelet has survived all of this time? It is a testament to how much I liked the bunny. I'm not the only one with my old toys still lingering around am I? Did anyone else have Calico Critter animals?

This photo is admittedly mostly for Dera, who blogged about Calico Critters today. Do you read her blog? You should. It's hilarious. My feed reader messed up the other day* and for some reason was showing me her posts from like a year ago and I kid you not, I spent like an hour of my afternoon just reading her old posts and laughing.

Okay, on second thought I cannot limit myself to posting just one photo. They all turned out so gosh darn cute.

In Clark's words, a girl, a boy, and a swimming boy.

He was very happy when I lined them up.

And insisted that "the swimming boy" could "fly around and around like a helicopter". Possibly because of the pink vest. Clark believes anyone with a cape can fly. He frequently pretends to be Darth Vader while "flying" (arms behind him tipped upside down) around our house. Also, why is this shirtless bear wearing a pink vest?

Alice thought the swimming boy was delicious. (Sidenote: Look at her fluffy hair. This is why it usually has a clip in it. I trimmed her bangs. It didn't help.)

I can't wait for her to play with these correctly, in my er..... her perfectly fixed up dollhouse that currently resides in my grandparents attic. It will be her favorite toy, I'm sure, especially after I live out my fantasy of being an interior designer and cover the dollhouse walls in vintage wallpaper and find miniature midcentury furniture and awesome light fixtures and rugs somewhere. She will LOVE IT. And if she doesn't I will make her. Haha! I'm kidding. Or am I?

*It was on my birthday, actually. I had to add this little asterik footnote just to mention my birthday one last time. I have kind of an inflated sense of wonder and importance when it comes to my birthday and I'm okay with that.


You Capture: Feel

Yesterday I opened presents that were picked just for me (hello, these earrings are SO ERIN) and felt known.

I felt cute. (Was not wearing a stretched out t-shirt for once.)

I felt very full of sushi. ($40 worth of sushi-- GONE. Luke said, "I think in Japan they have a word for women like you.")And cake. And strawberry homemade (by my mom) ice cream. And beer. And a cupcake. And another cupcake. And some chocolate peanut butter ice cream. And not even a sip of sparkling water. I didn't even think about sparkling water.

(Cake decorated by my ten year old brother Ethan. Love him. Love cake.)

I felt like... the birthday girl. It was pretty much fabulous.

Go check out I Should Be Folding Laundry and see how everyone else was feeling.



Twenty six years ago RIGHT THIS SECOND my poor mom was in labor with me.
Her due date of May 9th...

(pausing so you can re-read her due date and think about it for a second)

...had passed. And passed. And passed. And then on June 2nd, things started happening.

On June 3rd, I exited the womb.

I am a nearly-10-month baby.

Every year on May 9th I start my month long contemplation about all of this. Now that I have been through the waiting game twice, I can fully appreciate it. Oh mom. She was so young (only 22!). I was her first baby. She must have been so excited. So ready for me to comeoutalready at any second. "Breathless with a wild anticipation", as Rodgers and Hammerstein would say. An anticipation that lingered all through May, through heat and changing seasons and yes, maybe just a little too long.

But I did come out and here I am (hi!) and I think I was worth the long wait.
(If I do say so myself and I do because hey, it's my birthday.)

Thank you for putting up with all of my nonsense, Mom-- when I was in the womb clinging to comfort, and in high school when things were uh, turbulent, and 8 hours ago at the pool when I was getting sassy about how we were going to get the kids to the car. I love you.


Yesterday my Facebook status said this:
I just sang a song, very earnestly, to Luke about how my birthday is the second most important holiday of the year. It included much description of how I want to stand on a stage in my new party dress with a flower in my hair singing for everyone amongst the crate paper and confetti. He said none of that will happen. He is squashing my dreams!

Every year it seems I want to do just about the same things on my birthday.

Sushi, Karaoke, a party dress, and to go vintage/thrift store shopping.

Today I bought myself four coffee mugs and a pair of tap shoes at Goodwill. (Yes, TAP shoes. It's my birthday, don't judge.)

1 down, 3 to go.


at least it sparkles

I have been trying to finish a long and probably way too dramatic super heartfelt post for about two days.

Unfortunately, right after I started that mushy gushy post I wore a swimsuit.

It was kind of traumatic.

I am recovering, and trying to stop my out-of-control eating habits.
So I invented a diet!
Are you ready? It's complex.
Every time I want to have a bad snack (my husband buys things like Oreos-- there are BAD snacks in this house) I instead drink a sparkling water.
It fill me up and I temporarily stop thinking about the Oreos and the Bunny Grahams.

All weekend I pretty much just moped around, chugging La Croix and peeing a lot and thinking about when I was pregnant and ate chocolate peanut butter ice cream like there was no tomorrow but then it turned out there was a tomorrow and that tomorrow was today and today I still have 15 pounds to lose and my baby is 9 months old.

Yep. That's what I did all weekend.

Except Sunday when I accidentally went to the Indian lunch buffet and ate my weight in Chicken Tikka Masala. But every other second of the weekend-- moping and dieting.

I am going to the store to buy more sparkling water now.


I am not the only girl in this family who likes to eat. Alice (unlike her mama) is the very cutest kind of chubby. She even makes her (ample) cellulite look good. She is the sparkliest of all.