When I saw this handmade vintage wool “daisy” afghan on Etsy for $20, I had four thoughts.

1. That would make the coolest photography prop–the three different shades look great in B&W, too
2. The yarn alone would cost far more than $20
3. Even if I learned how to make something like that, I’d never finish
4. Some poor woman is rolling over in her grave because her ungrateful decendents clearly have no clue how long it took her to make that blanket

The only way I could keep Baby Tad contained this morning was to put him in his little wagon. Perhaps I’ve forgotten what the girls were like at this age, but I am seriously worn out from chasing the little guy around the house, trying to keep him from hurting himself.

His favorite hangouts are under the computer desk where he can chew on electrical cords of all shapes and sizes and in the corner of the kitchen where he can dine on little bugs that have escaped the constant sweeping and mopping I seem to be doing (mostly because Vivi’s potty training has been derailed in a big way).

Right now, he’s up in his crib, awake after a very brief nap, vocalizing his loneliness; but I don’t have my wits about me enough to go get him and start the rat race again.

~~~DEEP BREATH~~~

Ok. Ok.  Here I come little buddy . . . 

I’ve been eyeing the darling camera strap slip covers sold on Etsy but couldn’t bring myself to pay for something that I should be able to easily make.  With the help of my genius mother (who, despite being 1,000 miles away, always seems to be able to explain things in such a way that even I, her “blonde” daughter, can understand), I whipped this little beauty up tonight using a variety of scraps.

I even created a handy dandy pattern and posted it HERE.

I hadn’t intended to write a blog entry this afternoon.  In fact, I just went into the craft room to try and make a swanky slipcover for my camera strap.  But as I sat down at the sewing machine, I was suddenly overcome with a sense of gratitude and love for my sister, Lisa.  I’m the engine, she’s the caboose, as far as siblings go.  But even though there are eight years between us, we have so much in common.

(Lisa, Mom, Lori, Heidi–day of my wedding)

I am incredibly grateful that Lisa chose to relocate from UT to TX, and even though life hasn’t been smooth sailing since her arrival, she’s a survivor. Some of the happiest times in our family are when Aunt Lisa comes to visit. She is so good to take the girls outside and blow bubbles, kick the soccer ball, or play catch. The last time she was here, she and Ariana sat at the piano for a good long time and sang songs from Wicked at the top of their lungs. In addition to her kind heart, Lisa has been blessed with uncanny musical abilities. She can pretty much sit down and sight-read any piece of music.  AMAZING!

We all love you so much, Lisa, and can’t wait to see you again.

Humble pie was the appetizer on the menu tonight.

Feeling overwhelmed, tired, and ill, I was definitely not winning the Mrs. Congeniality award as I fixed dinner. And as is often the case, my two daughters took the brunt of my foul mood. 

So, as we sat down to dinner, I apologized for my grumpiness.

Trying to help me feel better, sweet Guppy said, “It’s okay mom.  I’m sure that any mother of three young children who doesn’t get enough sleep and whose husband is gone almost all the time is grumpy like you.”

And then the kicker. . . “In fact, I’m sure that some day, I’ll be just like you when I’m a mom.”

Oh, no. Not that.

Tomorrow, I’m determined to be the kind of mom I want my grandchildren to have.

“I did have a mother,” said the baby bird. “I know I did. I have to find her. I will. I WILL!”

“There she is!” he said. “There is my mother!” He crawled right up to it. “Mother, Mother! Here I am, Mother!” he said as he latched on and started to nurse.

I am NOT your Mother! I am a . . . 

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Needless to say, as part of our baby proofing efforts, we’ve started removing the plastic tip from the doorstops throughout the house.

Any guesses?

I honestly didn’t know what she was saying until she asked: “Are mocharecitals dangerous?”

Over the last few months, I’ve become increasingly alarmed at the number of disposable diapers my two wee ones contribute to local landfills.  And so the fact that Vivi went all day today without a potty accident should be a happy day for both Mother Lori AND Mother Earth, right???

But even as I was congratulating myself on the positive impact Vivi’s training will have on the environment, I stumbled across an article that made me laugh so hard I almost had a potty accident of my own: “American Taste for Soft Toilet Roll Worse than Driving Hummers.” The article claims that “The tenderness of the delicate American buttock is causing more environmental devastation than the country’s love of gas-guzzling cars, fast food or McMansions.”  At fault, they say, is “the US public’s insistence on extra-soft, quilted and multi-ply products when they use the bathroom.”

While environmentalists may poo-poo this mother’s hard-earned victory with their rash assertions that the soft toilet paper used by the now four potty proficient members of my family is akin to “ecological destruction,” I simply refuse to make my own reusable “family wipes” from fabric scraps, like those sold here http://living.wallypop.net/wipes.html.

For heaven’s sake, laundry day is bad enough as it is.

 What will they think of next???

My reward for having to clean up a blow out of monumental proportions.

Priceless.

Today, three-year-old Vivi asked if Baby Tad had teeth yet.  I explained that he didn’t have them yet, but when does get teeth, he’ll get them on the bottom first.

With shock on her face and horror in her voice, she asked, “do I have teeth on MY BOTTOM???”