Sweet and Swanky Giveaway

Since I'm beginning to have an obsession with fabric--sadly--I want to win these sweet and swanky Moda jelly rolls from V & Co.'s giveaway.

Haven't heard of Moda fabric? Don't try to--you'll be richer if you stay away. FAR away. And I'm not saying that to increase my odds--seriously.

You won't have Moda envy.

You won't dream of what to make with Moda.

Or have nightmares of Moda fabric bursting out of the closet in a massive Moda explosion with little pieces screaming "Sew me! Sew me!"

You will not calculate the value of your children to see which will fetch the bigger price on eBay to buy more Moda fabric.

You will not take out a home equity loan to buy even more Moda.

You won't wonder what brownies would taste like a la Moda.

Okay, so I really haven't done all these things (except the envy one), but consider yourself warned.

Warmth, Trouble, Bone Loss

Brrhh, it's chilly.

Other than the random gargantuan flakes, the snow is actually melting. Wa-hoo!!

My little brother came home from his mission in Panama a few days ago. Where it's warm. Reeaally warm. Where the entire population of Kentucky wishes it was right now. Where I wish I was right now. But I believe I mentioned that already. Just emphasizing.

Because our cheeks are chapped.

The sign the kids (uh, and I) made (let's be realistic, they're not that talented yet).

Waiting at the airport.

Like how the kids abandoned their poster to their other uncle (we have a plethora of uncles) (say uncle)?

And waiting.

And anxiously waiting.

Some of us had to, you know, GO.

There he is!

Of course I have the slow to turn on camera that made me miss his first bit of descent where he came down with his fist in the air--like he'd just had the best experience of his life. He was so excited to go on a mission and he did a good job.

And guess whose batteries were dying and the only pictures are blurry ones?

Mr Destructo barely remembered him.

We brought him a coat and hat and gloves, and when he walked outside, he grimaced. When I asked him how hot it was when he left Panama that morning, he said he didn't know because it was so humid. Hate me, but sometimes I miss a little humidity. Like when my dry skin is cracking.

I have to say I'm a little disappointed he doesn't have more of an accent like my other brother (Simon) did when he got back from Brazil. Everything Simon said had a major uplift at the end. Like, "Do you want a tortIlla?" I was sad when that ended.

Mr Panama, however just talks faster and sometimes spits out phrases that no one understands. They're not English, and I'm thinking they don't sound too much like Spanish. At least not the kind I sort of learned.

I forgot he calls Lex "Shortie". She was so excited to have Mr Panama home. So excited, she lost a tooth.

That's an apple seed on her lip that she was pushing through the hole.

In true Lex fashion, she really lost the tooth somewhere in the carpet. She firmly believes the Tooth Fairy finds the tooth wherever it is, since we have yet to supply a tooth under the pillow for her. Let's home no on unearths a tooth after the Tooth Fairy has supposedly taken it. Or I might save money.

I better do my bi-monthly vacuuming.

And don't be deceived by this little piece of trouble.

He was responsible for this.

Here's what it should look like.

Lovely.

The little Bentwood rocker that my parents gave me when I turned one survived almost 27 years of children, yet couldn't survive my children.

We'll never have anything nice.

I sound like my aunt who had seven children and her daughters were telling us once she said that all the time. This same aunt had a huge stockpile of fabric of which I inherited some--so of course I had to go out and buy more. Apparently I also inherited the sickness that runs in my family along the female line, called, Buy Fabric--Lots and Lots of Fabric With No Immediate Plans For It But Get It Because It's Cute.

It's like Fabricbuyititis.

At this point, my grandma (who's hip and reads my blog and Facebooks) and more likely, my mother (also hip) are shaking their heads in an I-told-you-so sort of way. They knew it was inevitable.

But Mom!

If I don't use this in three years and still don't love it by then, it's gone. No keeping piles of fabric for me! Plus, I've only just begun.

Here's the problem this last fabric store trip (stuff was on sale!). I bought the last four yards of this for huge sofa pillows and whatever else floats my sewing boat.

Oh wait there's another yard I bought last week.

Do stripes go with polka dots?

They do now, says me. Mean Amy, I don't care what you say.

But methinks the piano lamp is not so trendy.

At least it's not BRASS. The horrors.

And I bought a designer remnant to make another huge pillow.

I'm stuck on the pillows.

I promised my husband I'd use the sewing machine more than once a year and pillows are about as exciting as I get for now, but I have been thinking about making quilts. I think. Can't get too ambitious. And could I possibly say 'pillows' one more time?! Ludicrous.

Oh, and as I was leaving the store, I noticed linen on sale and I have a thing for linen and think it would make awesome window treatments and it comes in good colors and I want all of it and I'd have to buy a ton of it for good-looking curtains and I think I better get a job or talk the Money Maker into a hefty home improvement loan that would mostly cover fabric.

And now I need to GO.

Because you were so dying to know.

The Lowlights

Feeling so guilty I don't post more about my kids, which was the original reason I started the blog. But, it was one of those weeks.

You know, the ones.

Well, maybe not quite that bad, but let me recap the highlights, which are really just what I can remember. So sad. Dementia at 27.

What was I writing about? Oh yeah--

1. Made applesauce with my mom. Believe me, this was the tamest thing all week. We didn't have any catastrophic messes of, well, catastrophic proportions. But, my mom makes a mean sauce. It's so thick, we can eat it with a fork. Not kidding.

2. Tried for the third week to potty-train Mr Destructo. Let's just say he's taking his destructiveness to a whole new level. And I'm taking a break from potty-training. Also, I'd like to know, what is so wrong with wearing Sister's leftover Disney Princess Pull-ups? I keep telling him no on will see them! My kids think I'm so stupid. Sometimes I believe them.

3. S-man got hold of some special water. He came toddling up as I was trying to get Sister out the door for school in our mini-blizzard-here's-your-first-taste-of-Winter-you-sucker weather on Monday morning (of course it was on Monday), completely soaked down the front from his hair to his legs. He must have decided he was dirty, and thirsty, or wanting a swim. Yeah. Out of the bucket I was soaking Mr Destructo's poop-stained underwear (there was some Clorox 2 in it--so it was cleanish poop. I hope). If you're worried, he's still alive. I stopped worrying a long time ago with his older brother drinking sprinkler run off water fresh out of the gutter. Yum-O!

We like to live on the edge here.

4. We now have President Ostupida leading us for the nest 4-8 years. Wa-hoo for higher taxes I can. not. wait. Gee, wonder who I voted for? Don't bash me, I just don't want my elementary students learning about sex ed before they even know what sex is. They don't need to know that yet! Let children be CHILDREN, for crying in the cream. Which reminds me that investing in a cow might save us money. I have raised milk winos. Thank-you, Bill Cosby for teaching me about winos. Please don't ask me how to spell "winos" correctly. I don't think it's in the dictionary.

5. Today, when we finally started making a real attempt to clean up our leaves, we didn't make much progress. During our valiant attempt, our neighbor came over to chat and her dog came too and took a crapper in our yard. My daughter informed me of that one, but I forgot to discover the location from her and later stepped in it. In the shoes I work (once a week--I'm so hot-bodied) out in. That I wore in to the house. And picked up with my bare hand because I thought it was wet leaves (there were a couple on it) and mud, until I realized the mud smelled awfully bad for mud smell. Because it wasn't mud. Can I reiterate again? WASN'T MUD. With my bare hand. Wait, it gets better. I cleaned the bulk of the remainder with a paper towel and then got a handy Clorox wipe for the streaks. Oh help me, now I think about it, I think the paper towel with the hunk of doo-doo is in my kitchen garbage can! Still!!! And I'm so confused about my mysterious smell. Anyway, the husband had taken the outside can to the curb already, so after discovering this in my socks with the S-man following my every move, I left it on the step outside the door so it would be obvious, since our back door is completely surrounded by totally ignored, but not forgotten, drifts of leaves (that think they need to live in our house via our shoes. The cleaner ones). Well, apparently it was quite obvious. I got in the house a little ways, waiting for him to take his five minutes to get up one step with his 10-inch legs and when I turned around, guess who was wiping his nose with the doo-doo wipe? Worried again? He's still alive. This was one of the rare moments I was grossed out. We'll find out tomorrow if there are after-effects I'm sure.

Gah, takes Bad Housekeeping to a whole new level. And no, this year Lex will be disappointed in her wish from Santa for a real dog. She has specified. But you see the horrors that potentially await. For the love of cleanliness (which, believeitornot I really DO have), we are not getting a dog. Mr Destructo's underpants are enough.

6. Seems like there was something else I was going to try to be vainly hil-ar-ious about, but that's flown it's coop. I tell you. What wards off dementia? Help, they'll put Depends on me soon and take away my car keys! Who will drive to soccer then? Not that we're playing much soccer at the moment, but we have to do it again in the spring. And gee, I'm so excited to spend another six weeks fruitlessly convincing my daughter to go play. I'm thinking no soccer next season. We're just not athletic. Hello piano lessons.

7. Oh! How could I forget this? My friend who plays a princess in an amusement park specializing in princesses and who has been dating some boy for like, forever, is finally engaged!!!! Finally. I urged her to give the juicy details. And she better show her ring. Actually on her finger. Or I won'tbelive it really happened when I wake up in the morning. Or I'll think it's a product of my dementia.