True, I'm not a style icon. Certainly not since I had children and don't have the time or energy to put together an outfit that consists of anything more mature than a T-shirt, cuffed up jeans (because they are too long) and goofy sneakers. More often I look like a Pez-chomping high-school boy than a 30-year old mother. But I try. And I spend more time than I should perusing fashion magazines and drooling over the wardrobes of many a celebrity. Maybe I don't dress for my body type, but that's because I don't like blazers and my boobs bust the seams of any button-down top you could give me, and because I have an affinity for large, colorful prints and flowy lines. So with some exceptions, like this 80s trash you keep trying to shove down my throat, I'll buy most of your ideas, in theory if not in pocketbook. But I simply must address a grave concern of mine. Maybe I'm in the minority, but you couldn't get any of these ankle boots on my feet unless it was on my cold, dead body, and good luck even then. I'm sorry, but they are ugly. They don't look good with mini-dresses or cropped pants. Truly, I think I've never seen anything uglier in my whole life. I think I'd wear feathered, sky-high bangs before I'd lace one of those babies up. I mean, I love Little House on the Prairie as much as the next gal, but this ain't the prairie with a long dress to cover them up, and I ain't Half Pint.
Also, what's up with the Oxford booties, hmm? That's really pushing it, you know. I mean, that's a very easy line to cross straight into Hideous Town, Uglyville County U.S.A. I almost like them, especially if they are like these. Very cute, indeed. But tread carefully, my friends. Tread very carefully. And the peep-toe bootie thing? Just stop. Stop it now before you hurt yourself. Or my corneas.
Love,
Kelli
January 07, 2008
Dear Fashion Industry
January 05, 2008
Put Me in the Zoo
It was a perfect day for the zoo. And I mean perfect. Usually I get too hot, it's too crowded, and the animals are hiding. Not so today; you could not have asked for more wonderful weather, it wasn't crowded and the animals were all out and about.
Mommy and Fynn.
Daddy and Ewan.
Ewan and Fynn.
I'm partial to the big cats, and this was the first time I've seen a cheetah this close in person. They are truly breathtaking animals.
Baboons are so ugly and pretty at the same time. This one kept lunging at us in intimidation mode. Reminded me of high school boys trying to get in a fight.
Snuggly warm meerkats.
Leave it to me to be a the zoo and still be uberexcited over a butterfly.Thou Shalt Not
Perhaps I should stop receiving the Anthropologie catalogue. Coveting is a sin. And, oh gosh, does it make me covet.
January 04, 2008
Meep, growing up is hard to do...
Well, after some consideration, I've decided it's time to wean Fynn. And it makes me kinda sad. I love to breastfeed and have that quiet time with him, but he has started expecting it too much throughout the night, and I'm losing sleep. Plus, he won't nurse much during the day, so it's almost kind of pointless. Except, meep. I'm not going to be all precious and say that breastfeeding is "magical" or anything like that, but it's just time I enjoyed with both my babies, and it has really been a success for us. So I'm going to miss it. Very much. Also, his weight has always been kind of low for his height. He's not skinny by any means, but at his doctor's appointment today, I was told he's in the 75th percentile for height, and in the 25th percentile for weight. She really wanted me to get him on whole milk. So we embark on Project Fattening Up Fynn. At least I say it is time to wean, but I know I will totally keep giving in for a while. Because every time I think of it, I don't like it, it doesn't seem like it's time to stop. I feel like he was JUST BORN for crying out loud.
January 03, 2008
It's the New Year, what else am I supposed to do?
So... yeah... resolutions. Mixed feelings about those. On the one hand, as my sister Ashley pointed out, it's not as if you wake up on January 1st a completely different person. Like all those habits that are so hard to break all year magically become less difficult to deal with. Or you wake up with a shiny, brand-new case of will-power and self-discipline. On the other hand, it is a chance for a new beginning. I think we are all always looking for ways to self-improve or a new beginning, and having the calendar date begin with 1/1 just screams "FRESH START! COME AND GET IT, COME ONE COME ALL, FRESH START FOR A BARGAIN!"
So, in the spirit of those conflicting feelings toward ye olde New Year's resolutions, I am trying to steer clear of the cliched stuff (except for weight loss, have to try that one) and gearing toward more random, hopefully helpful stuff. Don't get me wrong, I'm still trying to improve in terms of scripture study and prayer, but those are nothing new. So in that spirit, here is my list of resolutions, in no particular order, hopefully not forgetting anything right now:
1. Lose 30 lbs. in preparation for baby #3. I am so sick of seeing my double $%! chin in pictures.
2. After tucking Ewan in, spend at least 10 minutes of "just being" time with him. Wherein we may talk about anything from the meaning of life to where fleas sleep.
3. Stop being so BUSY! all the time.
4. Stop yelling.
5. Stop being afraid of offending people. Be more upfront with people when I'm upset.
6. Stop getting upset so much.
7. Take kids to park once a week.
8. Be outside more.
9. Choose to be happy.
10. No, I won't be giving up Coke, but perhaps I'll cut out the 20 oz. (Does anyone else hear that crazy, maniacal laughter?)
So there you have it. See you all on the other side.
Forensic Files
Yesterday morning, I had three very specific errands in mind: getting Fynn's hair cut, returning some shoes to Target, and getting Fynn's shoes at the mall. The three places are all within blocks of each other, so I was trying to get it all done at once. I was already on my way when I called for the hair appointment, but they were booked until 12:40. It was only about 10:00, so I had some time to kill. Try as I might, I could not kill enough time, and I needed to go home and get my camera. Since time was going to be limited after I ran back home, I decided to use my little bit of cash from Target to get Sonic for me and Ewan. It would be quick, and Fynn could eat some little tidbits from home.
Now, I'm no shrinking violet. Even though Bryce doesn't always like it when I spend money on takeout, I'm usually pretty "so what?" about it. I think he's learned to accept it, even though he still fusses about it a little. And it's not as if I do it very often, but yesterday was hectic, and I didn't feel like listening to him gripe. (And that's all it is, griping, I don't mean to make it sound like he is a tyrant or mean.) The boys and I ate in a hurry, then scampered off to the hair place, and when I got back, it looked like a poor, innocent little Sonic restaurant had been disemboweled on my kitchen table. So I made sure I removed all traces of our lunch from the kitchen. I was meticulous in the removing of evidence. I put Ewan's kids meal toy away out of sight, threw the straws away deep in the trash with the bags and cup. I checked and double checked to make sure there was nothing that would give me away. I knew he'd find out anyway, but again, avoiding confrontation here.
So that evening, all was well in our little land, we were about to sit down to dinner and Bryce was helping me set the table. All the sudden he says, "A French fry?! Where did this come from?" And he looked at me, grinning. I was caught. In Ewan's chair, there was one single, lonely little yellow French fry, shouting my sin to the world. I mean, how lame! All that cover-up and I was given away by a cold, shriveled potato substitute?
As Bryce and I laughed over the whole thing later, we determined that we could never commit real crime. All the little things to watch out for, all that evidence just waiting to be discovered. I think it's safe to say that I won't ever attempt the perfect murder. I might leave behind a glove or something.
January 02, 2008
Ewanisms
I think I've posted before how Ewan sometimes gets a little paranoid. It hits a lot first thing in the morning. During one recent weekend, we heard Ewan pattering toward our room, just awake, and the subsequent TACK TACK TACK of the dog's claws on the floor running toward him. She's always so ecstatic to see him in the morning. But Ewan was less than thrilled as he picked up the pace very quickly, running from her, screaming to us, "Sugar thinks I'm a lollipop!"
He also lately has taken to saying he's "kidding" or "pretending" a lot. For example, "Ewan, do you want to go play outside?" "No." "Oh, okay." "HA! I'm just kidding!" or "I'm was just pretending I didn't want any ice cream." So today, I don't even remember what it was about, and he had said something like that, but then he looked at me with a crooked smile and said, "I was just kidding about pretending."
Unloading the camera
Happy 1st birthday to Fynn!
A conversation with Grandpa (my dad).
Still life with cake and ice cream.
Birthday cake face.
Really cute in that t-shirt.
Hours of entertainment in a spinning top.
Neat hair and nice shoes make the man....
I took Fynn for new shoes and his first haircut today. It's kind of the birthday thing in our house, first hair cut, first real shoes. I love Converse for the boys, besides being dang cute and hip, also because they aren't so bulky like a lot of kid's shoes. Especially when they are learning to walk, like Fynn, they don't need heavy, hard soled shoes to encumber them. So we chose some cute little Chuck Taylors.
And, yes, he did get the other shoe as well, but he was crawling away wearing it when I took this picture.
Fynn was born with tons of hair, and it grew fast, so I've actually snipped little bits of it four times since he was born. Here's the little ragamuffin before...
...look how long over his ears it grew...
And after... plus a little peek of the shoes.
