My name is Stephanie and I am addicted to string lights.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Cat doll, made for my cousin's 3-year-old daughter. Scrap fabric, some from an embroidered shirt that had to be retired. I was looking on Etsy for handmade fabric dolls and found some great ones, but I just couldn't fight the feeling that I could make one myself. Even though it's been a long, long time since I made anything like this.
Paw detail. Same fabric that made up the permanent "dress"
She knew right away that it was a cat (she likes cats). I was glad of that; I was worried it looked a little like a pig.
The face is my least favorite part, but I'm out of practice and didn't want to take on more than I could handle by trying to embroider or paint the face, so I just used buttons. It is what it is. The ears are the corners from the shirt collar. I do think that was pretty clever of me :)
Friday, December 23, 2011
I was almost afraid to follow this link because I did a fair portion of my (moderate) holiday shopping on Amazon and I didn't want to learn that it was causing bad working or living conditions for the people behind the scenes. But on balance, I think the situation is pretty win-win.
Welcome to Amazon Town
The Williamses migrated from their home in Hurricane, Utah, to take the two-month warehouse gig...
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Text convo with my husband...
Dan: What you want for dinner?
Steph: You ;)
Dan: I don't know. Tacos.
Steph: I meant I want YOU dumbass.
Dan: Well be more clear.
Ah, the subtleties of texting. You [wink] is NOT the same as You [question mark].
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
My parents have moved in part-time with my grandparents to be there at night in case anything happens with Grandpa. He's had a rough couple of months. My mom and I text back and forth about when they are heading home, when they are going back, whether I need to get their mail or feed the cat (that used to be mine). The whole crew went out to dinner last night and he is so very frail looking, but still living. Still bruised from his fall a month and a half ago. Still giving each of the kids $5 every time he sees them. Still eating and sleeping (sometimes) and waking.
The husband of one of my coworkers just died. He was maybe 50 years old. I am so heartbroken for her and her family, their kids and grandkid.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
I went down the road apiece to the closest town that has a mall. I didn't go into the mall itself, mind you, just around the outskirts of it. I had ordered something online for my mother that arrived chipped and I panicked and set out on a mission to find a replacement gift... and inadvertently remind myself why I do the lion's share of my Christmas shopping online to begin with. I was debating whether I liked anything well enough to wait the gawd awful line in Cost Plus World Market when I heard a couple arguing about whether some piece of junk would be better for the dinette or the dining room and I decided I'd rather kill myself.
So I may just take some paint to the chip and call it good.
This sign is hanging in the hallway at Austin's school. While I appreciate the [intended] sentiment, I'm fairly sure that because bully is crossed out, that means no bully. So NO 'no bully' means bullies are encouraged, right? Or worse yet, all the kids are required to be bullies (as in no kids who are NOT bullies). The fuck?
Yes, I realize I'm being overly analytical. Can't help it.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
It was not my baby. It was my baby's baby. One of my biggest fears in this life of mine is that my intellectually disabled daughter will become pregnant. The thought of it terrifies me. I had her too young and it was hard. Like -- HARD, man. It's fucking hard to have a baby before you have your shit together. But if the young mother in question were mentally retarded? Shit.
Maybe I wouldn't be so concerned if she wasn't so freaking interested in sex, but she is. (Interested, that is, not doing it.)
I already have plans to put her on the pill the minute her cycle starts. And my OB/Gyn is behind me 100% on that. But it could still happen. I have had the hypothetical conversation with myself -- if she were to become pregnant, would I? Could I? Force her to terminate? I don't think I could.
But this dream. The baby was a miniature version of Whoopi Goldberg. Don't ask me why Whoopi. I have no idea. But the love that filled my heart in this dream for this baby was overwhelming and continued to overwhelm after I woke up.
But I still don't want her to get pregnant.
Austin met Santa on Friday and was SO EXCITED!!! When Santa asked him what he wanted he shrugged and said a present. Hilarious considering the many things he has asked me for and then breaks down crying if I tell him you just have to wait and see. (He knows where his bread is buttered.)
Maya was too cool for it all and would NOT get in the picture.
She did take a picture with Santa Jack Skellington though. Ain't nobody too cool for Jack, just ask any emo kid.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
I had been trying to get my mom to start texting. It is so damned convenient when you just want to let someone know something quickly, but don't want to interrupt them. She was resisting though. She had it in her head that the only reason you would text a person is to avoid actually talking to them. I tried to explain to her that that wasn't really the case; it's not a great way to have an actual conversation anyway. But if you want to let your spouse (or kids or whoever) know that you already took out the trash, or picked up the mail, or let out the dog... or just to say 'I love you,' it's great.
For some reason last night she started texting me out of the blue. Er, rather, TEXTING ME. It took me forever to get through Target because I had to keep stopping to look at my phone. After a few back-and-forths, she told me that I may have created a "momster." I know she meant to type monster but I thought that was the most awesome play on words ever. I hoped that she had just coined a new phrase, but alas, I googled it and it's already a thing. Damn it.
Updated to include:
Kidding! I want her to text. AND NOT BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO HER.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Grandpa's on his way home tonight (home like his house, not back to meet his maker... the one I don't believe in anyway). This dying business is tricky, you see. It doesn't happen as quickly sometimes as you think maybe your body wants it to, even if your spirit doesn't really want it at all. He says he's going to die soon. "Not much longer now," he told me tonight in the hospital. But he's a stubborn old SOB. And strong. He's weaker now than he's ever been in his life, but considering how strong he was at his strongest, well, it's all relative. He feels as bad as he's ever felt, but considering he used to be as able bodied as a horse, well, you know. It sucks. He hurts. But he's not going anywhere tonight. Probably not this month. He may well make it to his 93rd birthday in January. Beyond that? Who knows? Not me.
Austin: Mom, you're not sad, are you?
Mama: Why do you say that, bud?
Austin: You can't be sad, you're just so beautiful*.
Mama's just worried about Great Grandpa.
*I'm a bit off my game today. First, it occured to me sometime after the conversation above that Austin may have said useful where I heard/typed beautiful. He has recently rediscovered Thomas, and the highest compliment an engine can be paid is that they are a really useful engine. So it was still sweet of him. I think.
Second, I set out to make myself some green tea. After it steeped, the color seemed darker than usual, but I didn't think too much of it. But it didn't taste right either. I had to go confirm that I had in fact made black tea by digging in the trash can for my tea bag.
After being home just a few days, Grandpa's back in the hospital. He told the ambulance guys that he thought he was dying. His pulse and blood pressure are good though, so we don't really know what's going on right now.
Today I'm sure that there is no god. Why does an old man have to suffer and be in pain all the time? He's been a good man. A good father. Not perfect, no, but no one is. There is no god and Nature is a heartless bitch.
Friday, December 2, 2011
The two above are from spring 1998. Dig the faux wood panelling and rust colored shag. Good Lord, that house was dark before we painted and replaced the carpet.
This is one of the few photos of myself that I actually like. I don't know why; it's really not that flattering. This is either 1997 or somewhere around 2000. I am guessing based on my hair length.
There have been some crazy winds in Southern California the last couple-few days. Our power was out for a bit yesterday but we didn't have any damage here. This afternoon I discovered that the wind delivered unto us some of the biggest tumbleweeds I've ever seen. Dan said we should make a snowman out of them. Er, a tumbleweedman, as it were.