March Madness!

I know you probably clicked on this post thinking that I'd be jabbering on about my love for all things basketball; what with the tall guys, orange balls, and impossibly boring details to the game. Instead, you have to read about me waxing poetic about this, The Month of Birthdays, as it's known in our house.

March is the month where a full 3/5ths of our family gets another year older (if you're including the dog, which we had to this year, the proportion leaps to an astounding 2/3rds) in just two weeks. Insanity. The weeks go a little something like this:

1. Mmm...cake!
2. Mmmm...leftover cake
3. Fresh cake!
4. Uh....lots of leftover cake
5. Birthday party cupcakes (God, I hope I don't have to bring any of these home)
6. A cupcake is really pretty close to a pancake, it totally counts as breakfast 
7. Really? one more cake
8. Who the hell wants to eat cake?

But this year the birthdays had me all misty and doe-eyed. I'm not sure if it was the specific ages the boys were turning (5 and 3), or if it's knowing that we're all done having kids and there will be no babies to fill the crib once these kids grow up. And it's amazing how fast they are growing.

I don't know how we went from this...

..all the way to this.

But, God, how I love these little boys. Enough to bake cakes and cupcakes until I want to scream.





Come to think of it...there's not a whole lot I won't do for them.

My Baby is SOOOOO....

There's a lot of things that could complete this sentence. My baby is soooo cute. My baby is soooo happy. My baby is soooo goofy. But, what I was going to say is my baby is sooooo fat. She can't help it, though.

It's glandular

I love her to pieces, but it's like trying to put a onesie on a monkey the way she rolls around and grabs on to me. Forget trying to cram her into a cute pair of skinny jeans (note to self: check into jegging material). So, in an interest to save time, money, and seams, I've started to make my little Petunia some leggings. With four way stretch so she can breathe. I came up with this little polka dot number and tossed a skirt with a similar color scheme over top.

It's hard to tell, but the top and leggings are ruched.

Here she is modeling her new outfit.

Look at that booty!

Solidarity!

I had a happy little post planned for today about a darling scarf that I made for my mom. But then Walker had to go and prove how underhanded and truly awful he is, and I needed to make a statement.

I'd like to teach my almost 5-year-old some choice words about Governor Walker, but that would be inappropriate. So, instead, we're protesting Walker and his anti-union ways with a little statement made with fabric paint and homemade stencils. I learned all of the necessary skills to complete this project in elementary school. Thanks teachers of Wisconsin!

Ability to spell

Color choice

 Coloring within the lines

Helping one another



The paints bled a little bit, but I don't care. I'm still putting it on Thing 1. He can show his solidarity to his teacher; I'm sure she'll appreciate it.

Seersucker: Not Just for Babies and Homosexuals

The other day I was discussing an adorable pair of seersucker pants from the store Crazy8 with my mother. The conversation went something like this:
"Ooooh. Those seersucker pants are cute. I think I'll make some for the boys," I said.
Mom responded, "Really? Seersucker? That seems...gay."
Me, "Gay, like as in you think they're lame? Or gay, like as in you think the boys will look like homosexuals?"
"Gay, like in homosexual," Mom said.

Fast forward to a conversation with my bestie at JoAnn's:
"Oh, and I need to get some seersucker to make some pants for the boys," I told her.
"Seersucker? That's a baby fabric. You can make something for the baby, but not the boys."

Another conversation, this one with my manfriend:
"My mom thinks the boys will look gay in seersucker."
His answer, "Pretty much everything homemade for boys looks gay."

Well, all you naysayers, behold my badass seersucker pants. I've only made a pair for Thing 1 so far, but if someone's got the potential to look like a gay baby in pants, it's him.

He didn't want to model his new pants; he just wanted to play Tony Hawk.

Stand up or you'll never play Tony Hawk again.

Show me your butt.

He thought that was pretty hilarious that I said, "butt."

Things fell apart pretty quickly after that.

OMG, my stairs are awe inspiring.

I just wrote the longest post in my entire blog history and blogger ate it. That's just par for the course in today's project world.

So...the stairs in my house were awful. They were made so by the Previous Home Owners (hereby referred to as the PHO). The PHOs did lots of things that were horrendous such as decorating the backyard with bowling balls, decorating the dining room and kitchen with six different types of wallpaper, PAINTING and then GLUING carpeting to the stairs.

Our project began many, many moons ago..

Yuck.

And pretty much sat that way for ages. But, Thing 3 was born and threatened to crawl, so we had to make a move. Plus the Grandmas were getting nervous with all that up and down the stairs and no hand rail. And, to be fair, Thing 2 did go tip over tail over the side of the stairs. He survived.

Hard at work

The stair remodel was horrible. The actual treads were easy peasy. Sand, stain, revarnish. We did have to live through a scary period where the treads weren't nailed down and some of them were missing entirely. The risers were a little more difficult. But the spindles, handrails, and newel post...holy smokes! That was something else. There was so much sanding...I'm pretty sure my kids huffed lead based paint at some point, but I'm counting on my extremely high IQ to counterbalance the damage.

So, we're not 100% there; the walls still need to be repainted (especially after Thing 2's bloody nose, creepy finger trailing up the wall incident), but we're good to go re: Thing 3 crawling.

Somebody should contact Bob Villa.

Money poor...

...but talent rich?

I wasn't sure where to go with this post, but my husband and I have been doing a lot of home updates that are somewhat aesthetic, somewhat costly, and mostly necessary (depending on who you ask). A recent update included sanding and resurfacing the dining room table. We are mostly able to save on the costly part because We are so handy. See how the "We" is capitalized? My husband may or may not have been a carpenter for the last 13 years or so, but I am a really good supervisor!

The table is a hand-me-down of a hand-me-down. I'm pretty sure my parents received it in lieu of a payment many, many moons ago. Back when flint stones were needed to light fires. Anyhoo, any finish that the top table surface might have at one point had was worn to the bone and after every meal (or "washable" marker mishap) I was forced to scrub, scrub, scrub the table. Well, begone table elbow! Welcome my New To Me Table.

Et voila!