What I’m up to:
– It’s my blogoversary! I’ve been blogging for two years as of today and I really want to thank you for all of the love and support you have shown me. I’m so very grateful for all the friendships I have made. You guys have helped me through some rough times and the act of blogging itself has really helped me look at what I want in life for myself, for my daughter, and for my family. I can’t ever reciprocate all the support you’ve given me, but I can and I will say thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
– We’re celebrating Isobel’s birthday soon so I am knee-deep in preparations. This is a great time to have friends that can bake, design invitations, and cook up a mean grilled mixta at a moment’s notice. What’s a mixta? I’m glad you asked because I’ll be posting the recipe later. Mixtas, you want them.
– I feel like kind of a horrible person for dreading all the inevitable new toys a birthday will bring. Especially since as she gets older I will have less and less control over this department. The day someone gives her a Bratz doll is the day I kill it with fire.
– For Christmas my inlaws in law (it’s complicated) gave us an extremely generous gift certificate to a local photographer so we can have some family portraits taken. She knew how badly I wanted a family photo. I take great photos of Isobel and Anthony, but as the photographer I am inevitably left out. Plus, ‘take an unconventional family portrait’ is on my life list. I was excited for these portraits because the photographer was uber-swanky. The experience was a complete let down. The man had the perfect setup for portrait photography: a huge property, built-in sets, a gigantic multi-floor studio, and the best equipment money could buy. And he was as hyped as they come. How can I adequately express my un-recommendation? He took photos of Anthony and I that looked like they came out of an AARP magazine. I took more interesting photos of us with my point-and-shoot as we sat in the posh waiting room. He was so uncharismatic that Isobel is making what Anthony and I call “lemon face” in 90% of the photos. On top of that, he wanted Isobel so rigidly posed that he kept making her do this thing he called “Princess hands.” At the time Isobel had no idea what a princess was, only that they had hands. The next week when we went back for our viewing, Isobel thrashed about in her car seat on the way there screaming, “NO PRINCESS HANDS! NO PRINCESS HANDS!”
– We got Isobel to stop saying “shoom up!”, her version of “shut up,” to people, but she still says it to her toys. That’s fine with me. This is clearly a social issue she needs to practice and get out of her system. Only, she’s too wary of reprecussions to say “shoom up” anymore, so now when she wants to say shut up she shouts SYRUP! at her toys. It’s not uncommon for her to play happily in her room by herself and for me to hear SYRUP SYRUP SYRUP! every once in a while.
– My twitter pal Jamie took the Are You Fucking Kidding Me, Biscuits recipe and ran with it. She turned these biscuits into delicious cinnamon rolls. Scroll down to read her comment and find out how. I can’t wait to try this!
– I had a wonderful time at the preshowing of Hunger Games in SF last week! It took me two days to recover from the lack of sleep, as I am an old lady, but I am so grateful my health was at a point where I could do that. It’s taken me years to get to this point.
Little Big Links:
- My first poppy is blooming!
- This sums up our Sunday.
- Scarf charm close-up.
- A perfect moment.
- So grown up.
- Ready for SF.
- On the train.
- The other one is named Angela.
- I feel like chicken tonight.
- Thrifted egg terrarium for the shop.
- Zorro just won at Hide & Seek.
What’s the story behind Isobel’s Pink Purse?
When Isobel was just a little baby I bought her an I HEART NY purse at a thrift store for thirty cents. We would load it up with fun little toys and treats and we’d pack it along to doctor appointments and restaurants in order to occupy her little hands while we waited. She was fond of that purse in the way she was fond of all of her toys: she liked it, but she liked just about anything you put in front of her with little preference and no bias. That all changed, however, on September 17th of 2011. I went to a large church sale with one of my besties and as we were leaving, I spotted it: The Pink Purse. It had a jaunty bow, a low-res photo of some kittens, questionable rose clip art, and most importantly… glitter. The glitter doesn’t show up very well in photos (especially since a lot of it has been loved off by now) but the roses are covered in it. The purse sat, on this woman’s table, looking pristine and brand new, and it had a sticker on it for two bucks.
It was late in the day and this tacky magnificent purse still hadn’t sold. I walked over to that woman, and with a look that said, Lady, there is no way you are going to find anybody who wants this purse I said, “I’ll give you fifty cents for it.” She hemmed and hawed, CLEARLY wanting to ask more for a pink plastic purse with glitter kittens, but noting the lateness of the hour, she agreed. I brought it home and Isobel and her Pink Purse have been inseparable ever since.
I am not even joking when I says she sleeps with that purse. She tucks it in between her pillow and her headboard. Each morning, the first question she asks me is, “Mama! Where’s my pink purse?!” One time when I picked her up from Ama’s late at night we left it there, and the next morning I had to load both of us up in the car, still wearing our pajamas, and drive across town to pick up the Pink Purse. She doesn’t have a special blanket or doll or lovey. She has the Pink Purse.
One of her favorite pastimes is decorating Pink Purse with stickers. Currently, almost the entire back side of the purse is covered in old sticker glue. The most famous Pink Purse sticker was the sparkly blue bubble she randomly put over one kitten’s eye, making it look like some sort of kitten cyborg from the future. My friend Stefanie said it reminded her of the Terminator, and whenever she looked at it it seemed to be saying, “Come with me if you want to live.” Terminator Kitty stayed intact for several months before the sticker finally fell off.
The kittens on the Pink Purse have names. Isobel named them. The white kitty is named Peaches, our cat who passed away when Isobel was still very young. She remembers him though, and asks to see photos and videos we took of him from time to time. The other cat is Poppy, one of her BFFs and frequent partners in crime.
What’s inside the Pink Purse, you might ask? Her favorite jar of cornstarch, of course. Yes, that is real cornstarch in that jar. She keeps swiping it out of Mama’s pantry and eventually she decorated it and claimed it as her own. After awhile I just let her have it. Also frequently found inside Pink Purse are Ama’s refrigerator magnets, a vast supply of fake food, Easter chickies, Valentines, stickers, four or five pink crayons, dried flowers that were once picked fresh from the yard, photographs and invitations she swiped off the fridge, and a random assortment of other things. If we go anywhere, Pink Purse comes with us.
Do you have a question for me? I’d love to answer it! You can leave your question in the comments, @-reply me on twitter, email it to me at firstname.lastname@example.org or send me a messenger pigeon. Don’t do the last one, though. My cat will eat it.