children, crafty, home, life

Stuff that happened, Part 2

March through today has been pretty much all about Josh.  Good things and bad things and then good things again.  One thing I’ve decided is that I will be blogging less about him because he’s now at the start of that transition into manhood.  I can’t tell you how much I hate that word, manhood.  Not because of the actual word, but because it means my baby is not a baby anymore.  He hasn’t been a baby for a long time.  I rationally know this but he’s my first born and I’m weepy as fuck.  So let’s get on with it then.

All of these hyper sensitive emotions are because my baby son just turned 10 years old.  Double digits.  One decade.  One year closer to being out of the nest.  This should be a happy thing!  I am happy and blessed to have a perfectly healthy 10 year old son!  I am a total ass for being weepy about this and yet, here we are.

I’m super into Ansatsu Kyōshitsu and just binge read the whole series.

The birthday was fun for him but also fun for me to plan and execute.  He made this year a hard theme for me:  Blizzard Entertainment.  Not just one game, but all the games.

Challenge accepted.

First, the quests:

Time to go on an adventure!

Before we go any further, you can download the “LifeCraft” font right here.  I want to use it for everything, but oh well.  He had 10 quests with a total of 3,650 experience points.  One for each day of his life.  I’m not crying.  Not at all.

Magnus Finnegan Chesterfield also turned 2 years old this year. 15.1 lbs.

Since there are no party supplies actually licensed by Blizzard for any of their games I had to make do with my Macgyver-like skills.  Okay, maybe not Macgyver, but solidly mediocre art skills:

Overwatch and Hearthstone painted wrapping paper. Not pictured: Starcraft, WoW, D3, HotS.
Hearth Stones, Apexis Crystals, various mis-colored potions.
My crowning achievement!

Seriously, though, that fucking cake.  I had to get two 10″ pans which was basically two boxed cake mixes (I’m not a from scratch baker, sue me).  The top is actual icing from a company called Edible Prints on Cake.  It’s literally not literally magic.  If I can do it, anyone can do it.

For posterity, here is my 10 year old baby son opening his presents.  Wearing the pajama pants that he wanted his mom to make him.  Because one day he won’t want handmade things from his mom.  Who won’t want family parties anymore one day.  Who won’t want Magic cards and Attack on Titan swords or Star Wars light sabers.

*sigh*

The next big Josh thing to happen was that he quit his Tae Kwon Do school.  He quit about a week before he was to test from 2nd level brown to red belt.  It was only late summer when he joined the newly formed Black Belt Club and we paid out a ton of money for a new uniform, new gear, and a new higher monthly tuition.  His new instructor left (was practically forced out) and a new-new instructor was somehow amazingly ready to go within two weeks.  How convenient.

This entire year so far has been trying to adjust to the new teacher and his new methods but frankly, it just wasn’t going to happen.  There was absolutely no discipline in the class so the other kids literally –yes, literally– would run around and yell and scream and do whatever the hell they wanted to.  No reprimands from the teacher, nothing.  We went to the coordinator and discussed the situation and she told me “I’ve never seen him teach” so she’d have to look into it.

What.

Who hires someone that you’ve never seen teach?  We even showed her video of the stuff that Josh has to put up with to which she responded ‘unacceptable’.

Well no shit, Sherlock

Now, I don’t want to project my emotions or mental lunacy onto my children, but I can honestly say he was becoming depressed over this whole thing.  The boy who used to practice every day and was always so eager to go to class and learn was gone.  He wouldn’t eat, he was moodier than usual, withdrawn, and most importantly, he didn’t want to go anymore.  A total 180°.  He would gladly not go which used to be the ultimate punishment.  I won’t say much more because we’re still dealing with the whole thing but we made it very clear that he was quitting the school, not the sport.  The day we said “if you want to quit, you can quit”, he made a face akin to hearing that he was going to Disney.

We toured a few other schools but I think we’ve found a place that he will fare better at–it’s literally everything we wanted and it’s completely amazeballs.  The Grandmaster used to train the South Korean military, so there’s that.  It may be a couple of months before he can even start but he actually said he didn’t mind since he knew he was going to a much better school.  Could he be any more wonderful?

MY BABY

 

children, crafty, entertainment, health, home, life

Photo Dump: April doesn’t exist

Your Lie In April was so good.

I did *not* let Robin watch this.

I spent all this time away from blogging to watch tear jerking all the good anime on Netflix.  So good.  So good.

And pretty.

I did set up my new 40 gallon breeder.  This is one of the first layouts I had.  It has changed a million times.  I’ll do a separate photo dump dedicated to fish later.

So symmetrical! It doesn’t look like that anymore.

I got a new 20 gallon long thanks to another $1 per gallon sale at Petco.  I wanted it for Zenith, but I gave it to the kids instead.  They wanted painted backgrounds.

Their interests are so similar I can barely tell them apart anymore.

Josh had a birthday.  He is 9.  MY BABY IS 9 YEARS OLD.

We had a theme. It was not laundry.

We celebrate Magnus’ birthday at the same time we celebrate Josh’s.

So dainty! One year and 12 lbs. Dainty, indeed!

My carpal tunnel, or supposed carpal tunnel, is in full swing.

My hands…

I’m cross stitching which is actually not the only thing contributing to the pain.  Writing, typing, carrying heavy things, living, dying–all of these things seem to bring pain equally.  I get to call a neurologist tomorrow for an appointment and maybe a conductivity test for my nerves.

I feel ya, Edith. I feel ya.
home, life

Filler Post: Jake

FACT: I started this blog entry on 8/12 and forgot all about it. So here goes a filler post before a filler post. Fillerpostception.

The fuck is that?

CAT FACTS!

Name: Jake
AKA: Jakey, Jake-Jake, Jake-Face, Toothy, Fluffypants, Jake from State Farm
DOB: c. June 2012
Adopted: June 12,2013
Weight: 14 lbs
Breed: Norwegian Forest Cat mix
Known litter mates: BK

BK has seen some shit.
Likes
chin scratches
ear massage
the bottom left (foot) of the bed
the top level of his cat tree

Preferably alone.

trying to get outside
chittering at birds and squirrels
sleeping on clean laundry
eating foam (foam mats, flip-flop sandals, Nerf darts, etc)
hugs while I’m on the toilet
his green wool and catnip mouse
catnip
coconut oil

DISLIKES
bananas
store bought toys
pulling on his long white ear hair
This one especially.

being picked up unless he asks
plastic bag noises
being in the car
my face in his face
this vine
being closed out of the bedroom because if not this happens all night:

Kids need water, food, and dirt to grow. Oh, and light. In the bathroom down the hall.

Not too terribly much more to say about Jake.  He’s loving and sweet and a lap cat cuddler.  He wants your full attention, regardless of computer, book, child, or food in your hands.  He loves to sneak outside but just huddles on the sidewalk or under the hedges and meows.  He howls like he’s dying but he just wants everyone to know that he killed his toy mouse for the 3,487th time.  This generally happens first thing in the morning, dinner time, and in between the hours of 12-3 AM.  He’s a creature of habit.  He is seriously crazy when it comes to catnip.   I clean his right eye of gunk every day.  The left side never has an issue.  He doesn’t give a shit about the fish tanks but he loves the smell of fish food.  He sneaks licks of coconut oil from the lid of the jar and the ends of my hair.  I use it for my hair and skin, not for cooking.

Celebrity photo
That was a clean blanket. Now it’s a clean blanket with lots and lots of black fur.
I thought he was a pirate stockbroker but I was wrong.

The kids love love love made up stories and Jake has been the protagonist in many a tale.  One thing that never really changes is his primary (cover) profession:  biscuit maker.  Jake has an amazing factory where he makes every kind of biscuit imaginable.  Sometimes he has to go away because he’s needed for his ninja skills.  I think only once did I make Jake the bad guy because ‘Hey, diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle…”  He had to make money, so he played a stolen violin on the street corner for money.  Soon he had enough to pay for a new violin and for whatever the reason was that he needed money in the first place.  He really does lead an interesting life, that one.

Once he had a a terrible stomach illness, probably brought on by eating foam like an asshole.  Diarrhea.  So much diarrhea.   When nictitating tissue is inflamed or doesn’t retract, it’s a huge red flag.  I had to cook him chicken breast and brown rice for a week.  He was a mess.  I was in tears; just so overwhelmed and scared to death that this was going to be another Boris.  He made a full recovery and we threw out all the Nerf darts and hide all the foam floor mats.   Fyi, cat proofing a house is a bigger pain in the ass than baby proofing.

He looks so huge in the dog crate. OH WAIT HE’S HUGE.

The rest of the time, he’s busy just being a cat.  He’s very chatty.  When he wants to be picked up, he doesn’t care if I’m on the toilet, eating dinner, teaching or any combination of the three.  He’s shredded my shoulder on many occasion.  He comes when he’s called, he suffocates me with love and a copious amount of fur.  Love, love, love.

entertainment, health, life

Yesterday was October

I mean, I guess today is October as well.  October, too.  October Two.

I’m not done with my story, but I’m a real slackass if you haven’t noticed.  In the mean time, let me tell you about October first.  October, first.

Autumn is my favorite time of year.  Period.  Winter is a super close second and only gets second place because it comes so late in the year.  Autumn is the time for knitting, football, pumpkin pie everything, Halloween, Thanksgiving and FOOD.  The cooler weather is the herald of hibernation season and it is the time for stews and chilies.  I had decided that October First would hence be known as Chili Day.  Truthfully, I was planning on making chili like, every day before that day but it was so stupid hot.  You can eat chili when it’s in the upper 80s, but why would you want to?  Long story short: Wednesday was the first and I was bound and determined to make some goddamned chili.

And then disaster struck.

Not a catastrophic explosion or anything. I was looking for any reason to use this gif. Sorrynotsorry.

Meat, sausage, onions, and garlic in the pot.  Making good sounds and good smells.  Time for dry ingredients: chili powder, flour, salt, all the other stuff.  Bullshit thing number 1:  I was out of chili powder.  What in the holy hell?  I’ve got 4 lbs of meat cooking on the stove and no chili powder.  I’m the worst.  THE WORST.

BUT

I decide I’m going to mix the rest of the stuff so everything is ready and prepared: 1. go to the store, 2. get chili powder, 3. ?, 4. profit.  Time was ticking because Wednesday is Tae Kwon Do day and chili takes forever if you want it to be chili-y so I was scrambling.  Time to add the salt to the dry mix!  Yay!  Open the mini metal drawbridge on the cardboard can and pour.  Then the real fucking disaster struck:

THAT IS A MOTHERFUCKING STINK BUG. IT FLIES. IT’S A MOTHERFUCKING FLYING STINK BUG.

This. Thing. Was. In. The. Salt.  The can was closed.  THIS THING WAS ALIVE.  Suddenly, salt.  Salt everywhere.  This piece of shit stink bug flew up towards my face and by sheer force of will and screaming did it fall down into the bowl again with the flour and everything else but chili powder.  I had to flush a bowl of flour and bug into the toilet.  I was over 9000% done.  NO chili powder.  The meat was cooled and put in the fridge and I made chili today sans motherfucking flying stink bug and it was delicious.

Today also marked the first trip to the eye doctor in 3 years.  The glasses I have been wearing are at least one year older than that–my prescription wasn’t that different and I wore contacts most of the time so there was no real reason to buy glasses.  I have been meaning to go, and I desperately needed to.  I am near-sighted with astigmatism and I couldn’t see the damn cable guide from the bed.  SRS BSNS.  Also, as I was laying in the dark, I noticed that my right eye’s vision was obscured by a shadow.  Not a floater, not a solid black, but a shadow.  My left eye was fine.  I panicked, looked in the mirror, shined lights in my eyes, used eye drops, sacrificed a goat–the whole nine yards.  I was crying because I was sure I was going blind.

I hate this fucking eye so bad.

The doctor was great, checked everything, not going blind.  Did not have a retinal detachment.  Did not have glaucoma.  Could not confirm if I saw a ghost.  Two out of three ain’t bad. The astigmatism in my right eye was literally double the amount of bad it was last time (I have no idea how they measure it, but it was double) AND I could probably use some reading glasses.  Yay.  She was funny though, “as we become more wise…” instead of “bitch you old”.   Free pair of contacts.  Much like the first shot of heroin is free to try because YOU WILL DEFINITELY NEED MORE.

I have other medical conditions that can screw up my eye-bowls so I always get them dilated whether I want contact lenses or not (I doooo).  It is always hilarious because I always feel like this:

yeaaaaaaaaaaaah

For those of you with eyes that actually work, they put drops in your eyes that sting just a smidge and after about 10 minutes you can’t read a thing.  Too much light going into your eye.  The best part was having my seven year old was read the price tags of the frames and lamenting the cost (why are they over $200?  That’s crazy!) and critiquing every pair I picked up.

Too square.
Too round.
Too big.
Not enough color.
Ugly color.
Too OLD.

I also got to wear the cool sunglasses they give you when your eyes are dilated, and by sunglasses, I mean a strip of curled darkened plastic that wraps around your head.  I looked awesome, as always.  So all in all, a decent day.

I will update and finalize my hospital experience soon.  In the mean time I’m just trying to live this life.

home

Trying New (Old) Things, part 2

It’s been over a year since Boris died.  It has been so difficult, even with Wendy.  Wendy is great.  That wiener has literally healed my heart in only the way an animal can.  I was incredibly lucky to find her.  But now, after all the rest of the last year’s losses and this year’s drama, I just needed something else.

I’ve missed this, so much. (Being Moe, I mean. The cat cuddling, too. I’ve also missed that.)

I am still looking for things, but just this past Tuesday I received a sign from…Facebook:

Magnificent

I brought Wendy and the kids to the vet the next day to meet Jake.

Majestic. Just an amazing animal.

So Jake is the newest member of our family.  He’s still skittish around the two noise machines, but three days later, he is quite comfortable climbing me.  Did I mention that he’s probably a Maine Coon, or at least part?  And he’s chatty as shit?  Our conversations go like this:

Meow.
Jake?
Meow.
Jake?
Meow.
Jake?
Meow.
Jake?
Meow.
Jake?
Meow.
Jake?
Meow.
Jake?
Meow.
Jake?
Meow.
Jake?

I find this pretty freaking hilarious, even at all hours of the night.  Other people might not think so, but I love it.  He’ll fit right in here.

Ignore the string on his tail. Seriously, let’s not discuss how messy my house is.
He’s black, with a very light undercoat. He looks like he’s been dipped in soot.
Observing humans in their natural habitat.

…And he just horked up a hairball.  Oh, gee, how I’ve missed that.

Fair trade though.  He makes me quite happy.

entertainment, home, life

Photo Dump: Brain garbage

1. I’m totally hooked on The Dresden Files.

You will love him, too. Promise.
Since when does a T-Rex not make things better?

 

2.  I should put him in my boyfriend album for Lars and the Real Girl alone.

We all know what Ryan is spending his money on.

 

3.  This is true, but will always be difficult.

Still, majestic as fuck.

 

4. I am stalking furniture from my past.  This actually does not surprise me.

I miss that table. There is a little crack on the decorative lip that you can’t see. 

 

5.   I could watch this all day:

focusfocusfocusfocusfocusfocusfocusfocusfocusfocusfocusfocus

 

6.  He earned them by attending class.  Doesn’t matter, got patches:

Be patient, and you can kick a grown man in the chest so hard he flies through the air..

 

7.  Also, I hope you didn’t need to breathe for the next couple months:

It’s literally like a thin layer of sand on everything. I’m being lung fucked.

 

 

 

 

children, crafty, life

Photo Dump: Blast from the Past Edition, Part 3

So what if Part 2 was two weeks ago?   More random goodness:

WHOA WHOA WHOA

1. I have been inundated with other people’s creativity lately.  I want to make all the things, but I’m lazy and guilty that I’m not working on things that I should.  Having said that, the above picture is definitely in the category of “things I don’t want to make ever”.  I don’t remember where or when I found these, but I had no idea that murderous clowns and luchadores were so popular, even with these Stepford children.

Mah pig!

2.  This is my pig.  Or, at least it was my pig before it was broken into a million pieces by a child.   Every day I’m amazed that he still lives, because this pig was my favorite.  The hat she is modeling was too big for my son when he was born, to give you an idea of how big she was.

I don’t have that Yahoo! name anymore, by the way.

3.  I used to play gin all the time on Yahoo! but shit like this always happened.  So instead of free games,  now I pay to have people talk to me that way and then some.  I am too smrt.

Banana cream pie yogurt was his favorite.

4.  Because why not spoon feed your cat some yogurt?  Spoiled, stupid cat.  He ran away, because he’s the dumbest cat ever.

Wait for it…

5.  This picture scared the crap out of me.  Do you see the eye?  It’s an illusion, but it’s also super creepy.  But Fat Baby don’t give a fuck, so no worries.

Last, but never, ever least:

**LOVE**

6.  Who doesn’t love this gif?  BEST.

crafty

Early Post

Robin woke me up at 3:30 AM and I couldn’t go back to sleep.  I didn’t eat dinner so I decided to eat a ham and cheese and Dorito sandwich.  Don’t judge–there is something immensely satisfying about smushing chips in your sandwich and hearing that crunch.

I am working on the heels of the Mr.’s socks and Boris is sitting with me.  In my head, I thought “I’m knitting with my cat” and then laughed at myself, wondering how I would actually utilize the cat to knit.  The closest thing in my head was using his arms as knitting needles.  I guess you had to be there.  You know, in my head.

If I can do it, he can do it.

He’s not really much help, but he does keep me company.

I love you, giant man sock!

FYI, Boris has never been a jerk when it comes to knitting and yarn.  He will play with yarn if I initiate it, but the cartoonish image of him stealing a ball of yarn and batting it around the room until it’s a jumbled mess has never happened.  That’s too undignified for him.

There you have it.  I’m officially 92 years old and alone, knitting away with my cat at my side.  At least until the kids wake up.