Hook'd up

Slowly, but surely, the front hall decorating is coming along. All the hooks came and I've got them up. Of course there had to be the usual speed bumps along the way, but that was expected.

I changed my favorite from this (it's color was *exactly* the same as my walls):


To this:

Much better. Due to our walls being old, stupid and made of concrete, hanging them was quite an orchestration of power tools and colorful language. I couldn't get any bolts to go in all the way, so none of the hardware is flush with the hook, but they hold weight and that's what I wanted.



You see, the root idea behind this "Wall 'o' Hooks" began with the conundrum of this awkward entryway. People needed somewhere to put their bags, etc. when they come in. I have a shoe cubby and shelf, but it's got all of our stuff on it. So most guests would just politely stash their shoes or bags on the opposite wall, on the edge of the rug or somewhere. A coat rack would just be in the way. I love that this is wall decoration is both decorative & functional. I'm all about keeping things simple, so I'm always looking for the dual purpose in everything.

Yes, we did have cardboard boxes (with food storage inside) covered with a tablecloth for a side table in college. #1 reason: Because we were poor. But I see no reason to stop that habit (the frugal, penny-pincher) just because we're not eating Ramen noodles every day. (and we still have ramen noodles in the cupboards.)

Oooh, pretty shells!

Or at least we thought they were shells. I booted the kids out the door this morning before 9am. The heat index was 106F and it was only going to get hotter. (p.s. they all stayed outside for a grand total of 12 minutes.) What drew them back to the door (besides their rosy, sweaty faces) was Mairyn prancing back to the house with a handful of these adorable, petite shells. She had washed them off at the hose and wanted to save them. I got out a tiny bottle & let her drop them in.

"Why don't you go find more so you can fill the bottle?" I was hoping this would encourage them back out after the H2O refuel. It worked and they went back for Round 2. For all of 26 seconds. The three-headed monster (Mairyn, Grant & Jacqui) came galloping back inside screaming, "They're alive!! There are snails in the shells!!" Sure enough, they showed me the little bottle with the itty bitty shells climbing up the sides. Eliza poked her towel-swaddled head out of her bedroom long enough to ask if she heard us right; that something was alive. (she had just finished a shower & was "getting ready". For what, I don't know)

That's when Grant suggested I run get my camera because I should take a picture. Ooo-kay, I guess I take a lot of pictures of everything. We thought we'd tip the bottle on it's side and let them crawl out on their own. I got too impatient and just turned it upside down. They all came tumbling out. The kids were afraid the snails might get squooshed, but I reminded them that they had first found these little guys as shells, they know when to pull it all in and retreat.

You're such a cut up!

'Tis the season for haircuts, I guess. Eliza has been bugging me all summer to chop her luscious locks. I'm not even going to lie, I love her hair. She's got amazing hair; a wonderful combination from both sides of the family. Her hair is thick, shiny, manageable, and has perfect highlights & low lights. (all natural) She has donated her hair to Locks of Love twice. Each time a big, thick ponytail of ten and twelve inches long. That's my secret plot to keep her hair so long; she can cut it when it's long enough to donate. I would be such a waste to let all that perfect hair just fall to the floor of the salon. (and because I can't bear to cut it) I keep telling her she needs to wait just two more inches.

I finally caved. It was one small thing I could do for her. She starts sixth grade this year. Yikes. I *remember* sixth grade. It doesn't seem like so long ago that Ryan Whats-his-face was tormenting me on the bus. Or the fact that I was *so*thrilled* to be taking art class, a class that I couldn't believe I was getting a grade for! Eliza has had her own set of worries. I couldn't help her with any of her anxieties or "what-if's"; but I could help by granting the desire to cut her hair.



Now she says she feels '..a bit more ready' for sixth grade.
Sixth grade. Again, Yikes!

Trying out a new "look" for school.

Oh, and here's what happens when I leave Daddy & Grant alone during "Haircut Time". No, it's not a trick of the light, Grant's hair was cut down to the nubs. That is a 'zero' on the clippers. His hair is so freaking blond, he looks like a cancer patient. I cut his hair short in the summer, but never that short. He likes the feel of it; spikey like Daddy's.

That's not a bite...

That's a bite!

But not a spider bite, an insect bite. Either ant or some sort of crawly thing. Let's start at the very beginning (a very good place to start).

6:53 a.m.: Grant comes into my room and props his leg up on the bed by my head. "This itches and hurts, Mommy." Well good morning to you, too, buddy. I take a look at his leg and there's this egg-sized red lump on his shin. Grant is a tough boy. He doesn't really complain (about pain or discomfort) so if he's complaining, he's not crying wolf. I could see that he was walking, so it probably wasn't a broken bone. *whew*

7:09 a.m.: I've gotten him dosed with Benadryl, applied some Cortizone-10, and put an ice pack on it. The Health Unit doesn't open until 8:30 am. We wait and I Google "spider bites" until then.

8:34 a.m.: I call the Health Unit and recount the previous two paragraphs. She recommends going to a local pediatrician. I'm less than thrilled. But take into account my experience, which is Egypt, the Land of Inefficiency. She gives me the contact info and I call the number for the office, make an appointment. The appointment is for 10:30 and they'll also need to start a file on him, so it might take a while. I call Spence and tell him I need back-up.

10:23 a.m.: We arrive at IHB and march into the lobby. Everything is clean, professional and efficient. From opening a file for Grant to us walking back to the car took 35 minutes. We saw a wonderful pediatrician, Dr. Beltagi. I told him what I had already done, he examined Grant and said, "Why did you come in? You've already done everything I would have told you to do." Well pat me on the back call me burped!

11:06 a.m.: Back at home; Grant & Mairyn are playing Super Mario Bros battle on the DSs and all is well. Better safe than sorry.

Grant is an all or nothing kid. When he reacts he REACTS! When he's okay, he's the epitome of mellow yellow. I've just never seen a reaction that leaves a lump the size of a deviled egg! Grant really knows how to react.

YouTube Tuesday: Ramadan

It's that time of week again! One of my favorite channels is GoRemy. He's a genius. His parents are Iraqi and Lebanese; but he was born and raised in Northern Virginia. So he "gets" the culture, but isn't constrained by it. A rare man that, I hope, can have some sort of influence for good. One of his most recent parodies was even featured on all the major news networks. It's title: 'Raise the Debt Ceiling'. Pay close attention to "Sen. Fran Tarpington's" monologue. (1:26 - 1:35) Musical & magical!


"I got a monetary plan and it involves a lotta toner"

And maybe some of his Middle Eastern humor is only funny to me (it's so hilarious because it's true). You've got to listen to the lyrics a couple of times. He crams so much into each verse! This is his video addition for Ramadan.



Also, I think the magic of his vids is the re-watchability (yeah, it is to a word --> urban dictionary) I can't post all of his videos on here, but here's a few I recommend.

Hey there Khalilah
Oh what a day it's been!
The Falafel Song
Why they Fought
Hummus: The Rap
Shamkhwow
Saudis in Audis

Hook me up!

I have to be flexible with what I have. The walls change about every three years, so I can't make a wall grouping specific to that wall. Believe me, I'd love to. I just make sure all of my "decor" goes well together. I do have my "Middle Eastern Stuff" that I group together and can usually find a space.

I'm struggling with the front entryway/foyer. It sounds too ostentatious to call it the 'foyer' (i hear 'foy-yay' in my head whenever I say it) but 'entryway' is too small a word to describe it. It's bigger than the girl's bedroom. Also that monstrosity of Middle Eastern bling, a.k.a. the chandelier, is quite distracting. We walk through it multiple times a day; we cross it to go from the living rooms to the bedrooms, or bedrooms to the kitchen. The bathroom we use the most is also off this area. I'm slowly figuring out how I want it, but I need to get a move on, in just 7 days, we are nearing our 1 year arrival anniversary.

The long awaited hooks came! I didn't get a good picture of them all; little thieves absconded with a couple, in-between me laying them out on the floor, getting my camera, taking the picture, then realizing a few were missing. Oh well, it'll make the reveal all the more exciting.

I traced a paper shape of each hook and am playing with the arrangement. I'm a master at this staging process. I have two huge paper guitars on the wall in the living room, still waiting to be replaced by the real things. It's just that when you have concrete walls, the hanging process is more permanent. No changing your mind or backing down. Also, the whole drilling process isn't the easiest either. I have a cement drill bit, but the problem is the depth of the holes. It's very inconsistent, some can go as deep as I need it, other times I can only make a very shallow hole that won't hold the hardware I need to use. So then the whole arrangement has to be re-done. You can see why it takes me so long to commit to something. I have to have a couple of workable scenarios. Anyways, I'm at the paper shape stage. Let's see if I can get them hung before the end of Ramadan!

Art Ardor

One frustration I have with most art I like is that it is too small. I like big things on the walls; super big and small make good arrangements. Our house has *very* tall ceilings, so that helps feed my taste. But when you get around to putting things up on the walls, you find you don't have as much as you thought. Does that make sense?

Anyway, getting back to the original tangent that began this post, the trouble with art. I like it bigger than I can find it. So when possible, I make it. This is my latest production. I found a poster on pinterest, but I didn't like any of the colors or sizes.
12x24


This was also another "like it but i want it different" poster. It was a free printable, but I still didn't like any of the color combination choices or size. Just a bit bigger.....
12x16


I can come up with my own stuff. I made these paper doll art frames for the girl's room. And the dress is fabric modge podge'd on a canvas board.



I am in the process of making name buntings for all the kids. Once upon a time, I had planned to make one for each of them for Christmas. I made Eliza's in time for her birthday. I made this one for Grant in, like, 5 minutes. Mairyn's is still in the works, and there is *no*way* I am making Jacqueline's out of fabric. Her name is way too long.





So that's my anthology of 'Adventures in Art'. I don't think I'll ever be done. I wonder if I will get to the point when I can just open the boxes, unwrap the decor and throw it up on the wall? I don't know if I want to.

OMD (which is code for: oh, my dates)

So last week I was up and seeing my hubs off to work. I poked my head out the door after he left (to remind him of something that I forget what it was now) and I notice Mbumbo and his crew in my yard. Actually, it was just Mbumbo pushing a wheelbarrow toward the side yard, but he doesn't do any sort of "heavy lifting" alone. I ran back inside and followed him around the house; looking through windows in each room, as he made his way over to the back patio.

In what can only be described as a 'Psycho' moment, I freaked.

They were chopping off my dates. I repeat, They. Were. Taking. My. Dates.

Apparently it had been as clear as mud to them, when I communicated mere weeks earlier that I wanted them. Mine. Anula was not in yet, so it was up to me to rescue any remaining dates. Pep talking myself, I rehearsed a simple, yet clear statement. Out the back door, into the 108F (42C) degree weather (at 7:30 am) I plunged.

Me: Hi. Where are the dates?
Mbumbo: Huh?
Me: (walking around the house to a date tree, then pointing upwards at the now barren branches) Dates. Yellow. Where?
Mbumbo: Flower?
Me: No, date. Yellow, little, up in tree?
Mbumbo: Oh, no here. Sorry.
(now, at this point, asking why would do no good nor clarify the conversation)
Me: (walking over to the wheelbarrow and hefting out a semi-ripe bunch) Dates. I want.
Mbumbo: Oh, oh, yes.

I ran back inside and grabbed an empty book box (I knew I kept those around for a reason). I helped myself to what was left in the wheelbarrow and went back inside. They weren't my first choice, but they'd do. I had had my eye on the tree in the side yard; two bunches of dates that were perfectly yellow, no green ones and no overripe ones. But, que sera sera.

Anula came in later and was just as puzzled, confused and irate as I was. She had told them flat out that we wanted them. Grrr. Oh well. When life hands you mostly ripe dates, what do you do? Make good dates. We washed them, dried them, then set them out in the sun for a few hours every afternoon. We won't leave them out all day because of the dust and wandering cats or birds.



P.S. I spied on them through the slits in my kitchen blinds the rest of the morning and imagined my eyes were laser beams.

Guilt Trippin'

So, I found this list through a friend. "25 Reasons Your Childhood Self Hates You" As if we couldn't find enough things to feel guilty about. The only thing that was wrong was that I was having a hard time agreeing on all points. Does that mean I'm still a child? You be the judge.

1} You like going to bed early

My response: Nope. Still a night owl.

2} You could buy the best Nerf Gun on the market right now and you don't

Even better. I can buy real guns!

3} You enjoy a day at the museum

Sorry, I enjoyed the museum as a kid, too.

4} You have made no effort to go to Disney World

True

5}You can't remember the last time you played any version of tag

Yes, I can. Phone tag with the repairman.

6} You are getting out of shape

Nope. In fact, the hubby & I are doing a super muscle building program this summer. We'll be ripped in a month! :P

7} You have spent money on a tie and dress shoes

Yes...but grown up shoes & dresses are so much more fun! (i think this list was written by Calvin & Hobbes)

8} You go through the check out line and don't buy candy

I buy candy for my kids! Sometimes.

9} You eat your vegetables and you like it

Well, that's a stupid statement. I ate vegetables as a kid. We ate bell pepper slices and V8 as road trip "treats".

10} You listen to NPR

Yeah, I do. My kid self would be bored & disappointed.

11} You haven't talked to your grade school BFF in years

And I probably won't for many more years.

12} You don't have a hit single and you aren't touring the world in luxury

No, I don't have a hit single. I have tens of twentys of hits! On my blog .... And I am touring the world. In luxury? That's all relative, compared to what?

13} You spend most of your free time with a boyfriend/girlfriend

My childhood self would only be disappointed because it's not 'Jim' (man from snowy river), Michael J. Fox, Doogie Howser, M.D., or Patrick Swayze.

14} You smoke everyday

Not applicable. Not attractive then or now.

15} You lie

And kids don't lie?!

16} You know how to buy Popsicles and that they are extremely cheap and yet you don't

True. All I think about is the sugar. :(

17} You can stay out all night every night but choose not to

I can't even stay awake all night!

18} You didn't make sure there was a basketball court and a video game room when choosing a place to live

Um, excuse me, childhood self. Better things have been invented. I have a Wii, PS3, XBox and a flipping huge T.V. 'Nuff said.

19} You haven't played video games long into the night for quite some time

Long into the night? Refer to #17

20} You like coffee and drink it every day

Not coffee. Coke. (the cola type. :)

21} You are not the President, a professional athlete, or the King of the World

Excuse me, sassy child! I am CEO, Head Mistress & presiding authority of my domain. Need I wield more power?

22} You don't watch cartoons anymore

False. They have cartoons for adults now. Case in point, Futurama.

23} You can find enjoyment from classical music

Immune to this one. We'd play "Guess the Sonata" with Mozart, Bach & Vivaldi at our house.

24} You are an atheist

Not applicable! Who asks kid about religion?

25} You have ordered salad off a menu for dinner

Yes. But still, refer to #9.

And look, I have my own children to warp!



All in all, I think I was a normal child. Just call me Abby, Abby Normal.

A belated birthday

Jacqueline's birthday was this past weekend. I can't believe my baby-est baby is 5. It doesn't feel like it was so long ago that she came into this world. That Saturday when I unexpectedly went into labor, water breaking at home and not having an overnight bag packed! And the not-soon-to-be forgotten epic car ride to the hospital, and how Spencer would not run the red lights!! When all was said & done, it was just a little over 2 hours from her deciding to start the show and then make her appearance.

L to R: Jacqueline, 2 1/2 mos; Grant, 2; Mairyn, 4; Eliza, 6.





How did she go from this?



To this?



Happy Birthday, Jacqueline, baby mine!

He's a survivor

Spence just got a couple DVDs of "Survivorman" and all the kids love it. Especially our little man, Grant. He has been running around the house, scavenging odds and ends to add to his nest/camp. Let's back up to the beginning. (a very good place to start)

First thing: The DVDs arrive. We watch the first 2 episodes in one night. The next day, Grant has hijacked every couch throw pillow and piled them all together. Laid out in a ring, are the long, fat pillows from the pillow pit. Then stacked like masonry, the small square couch pillows are evenly distributed around the long pillows. Then, the huge king size snuggly blanket is thrown over it all and carefully smoothed out and tucked in. Then Grant crouches in the middle of it and the whole thing weirdly resembles Big Bird's nest.

Objects he has scavenged: two wood skewers from my kitchen cupboards, a broken stick (don't ask me where he found that), some strips of fabric from my scrap pile, and other things I don't know if I recognize. When I asked him what the sticks and fabric were for, he said (with a "well, duh" look on his face) "To start a fire!" Oo-kay. It does make sense; Les Stroud started a matchless fire the other night with just a string and a stick.

It's really seeping into his imagination, though. He looks at everything now through survivor mentality glasses. "Hmmm, those palm fronds would make a good roof for a shelter!" I think this kid is definitely ready for scouts. Last thing, I was fixing dinner and Grant wanders in, looking for a snack. (of course.) He hops up on the counter (it's allowed here, the cabinets are even high for me) finds a packet of crackers to eat and all the while, muttering under his breath, "One man ... alone ... no food ... no water ... no help for seven days" At least he'll be prepared if the unthinkable should happen?