Made by Me Monday

Today was project day. And that means that all 'normal' duties and chores get postponed and all possible time is applied toward a project. (Read: House becomes insanely messy because small toddling girl is permitted to get into anything and everything because Mommy just wants to be able to finish something substantial by the end of the day.)

Got the picture?

Thought so.

I won't show you pictures of what my daughter accomplished today but I will show you pictures of what I accomplished!



Do you know what they are?



Um. Personalized travel bags?

Ya know... to throw all the small bits and bobs in when you're traveling around the world.



Now I can just throw H's small socks and baseball hat and toddler undies in his zipper bag and I don't have to dig through 50 pounds of other various clothing and miscellaneous paraphernalia while I'm trying to dress him in the morning in a tiny hotel room. I just reach for his easily-spotted bag, unzip it, and pull out the needed item.

I'm so smart.

But ask me in a few months how they actually worked out.

I take that back. Don't ask me. Cause you don't really care. And I'm okay with that.

Really, I am.



Don't tell Mike that his doesn't exactly scream 'I'M A MANLY TRAVEL BAG.'

But don't judge him, we ain't got no JoAnn fabrics here people. But we do have my friend Lucy, who is really generous with her super cute fabrics! Thanks Lucy!



Mine seems to be the largest.

This is probably a good thing.



Here are the other two things I made.



This is cause my daughter has strong feelings about her drinks.

When she wants 'em... she wants 'em.

And when she's done... she's really done and she wants the cup/bottle away from her. Like... far out of sight, and she'll throw them with great gusto if she decides they are no longer worthy to be in her presence. She's a passionate girl. I wouldn't get on her wrong side if I were you.

So this way, if she suddenly goes from happily guzzling her bottle as we're strolling her through an airport to feeling like that darn bottle is now her arch enemy and must be cast out of sight to the diseased floor... theeeeeeen the handy dandy strap I sewed today will rescue it from being lost forever because Mom and Dad were trying to find the correct gate or chasing big brother down the people mover or doing how-many-carry-ons-are-we-currently-carrying math or straining their eyes to spot a Starbucks or wondering "Huh, where's that guy from?" or trying to do exchange rate math in their heads or tying shoes or rubbing sleep from their eyes or doing time-zone math and didn't happen to see baby sister toss the bottle from the stroller.



Good idea, huh?

Finally!!

Yesterday, it became official...

MY GIRLIE IS WALKING!!

Please humor me and at least pretend to look at this very long sequence of photos.

Well, even if you don't want to humor me, I'll never know, will I? Whether or not you look... I can list three ladies who are certain to gush over each one.

1. Grandma
2. Grammi
3. My forty-seven year old self. (That's how old I'll be when my girlie uses her walkin' legs to march in her High School Graduation Ceremony... Waaaaahhhh!!)

Aanyway, here we go.



Standing up without holding onto anything... She JUST started doing this too!



She's gettin' ready...



Here she comes!



She's so stinkin' happy with herself.



Weeeeeeee!



She's a bit teeter tottery...



Whoops!



Take 2.



Here we go.



Focus.



Uh oh...



Nice save girly!



Gettin' closer.



Looking so big!



Yaaaaaaay!

She sure did take her time learning but now she's on her feet just three days shy of her 15 month mark.

I'm so proud of my big girl. Life just got a bit more fun, if that was even possible...

But wait.

I thought I was done with this post, posted it and continued to edit pics but I CAN'T HELP IT...

I have to post more.

It's not physically possible to stop myself right now.

She is just TOO. STINKIN'. CUTE. It's her own excitment in this sequence that really gets me. She is so proud of herself! And her tongue. It's her sweet little tongue o' determination that also gets me...















Okay. Aren't you glad I posted more? Uh huh. Sure you are.

Now this is the end.

For real this time.

After I tell you, that is, how much I love my daughter.

I love her more than life itself.

The end.

Or is it just the beginning...

Tissue Fun

We don't buy paper towels here but I do put a box of tissues in one of my kitchen drawers to serve kinda the same purpose. Sorta. Kinda.

Recently, N figured out that she can reach those tissues.



Reach



and pull



and 'blow'



and toss.



Reach



and pull



and blow



and toss.

My my her nose is runny, wouldn't you say?



Then she spontaneously crumbled into a ball on the floor



to throw a fit fit for a two year old, not for my lil' one year old... Can you see her face? Just look at her...

Don't ask me why she's threw a fit. I am her mother, not a psychic. There was honest-to-goodness not a good reason that I could identify.

Also, don't ask me about her outfit. I am her mother, not a fashion designer and I have no comment.

Playmate Today

H had a playmate this morning. We did many fun things together (and Mama still got some of her own stuff done too!)



Stickers masterpieces. Nice.



Followed by an outing to feed the tortoise at the Guest House.



A trip to the ducaan (store) to buy snacks. This was followed by much running, jumping and skipping up and down this brick ramp. Who knew the ducaan could be SO much fun?

(not me)

(until now)

(and now I know)



Scratch 'n sniff painting! Big hit. Got that idea here.



Sandbox. Always fun.



Play-dough creations.



And a lunch little boys dream of...

Exhibit A,B and C (Mess, Glorious Mess -The Sequel)

So I came home from my solo afternoon at the hotel a couple days ago feeling cool and refreshed. It was while I was there that I had been doing a lot of writing and spent time reflecting on my current season of life. I was just chuckling away at all my recent faux pas and how crazy and fun life is these days. During that time I wrote the post previous to this one, called Mess, Glorious Mess. Did you read it? If you didn't, read it before you continue reading this post. K?

*waiting*

Okay, read it? Good.

I had no idea that my evening would be dripping in the irony of what I had spent my afternoon writing about.

Let me share with you how the remainder of that day went.

I came home and thought "Aaaaaahhh! I have to feed my family. What shall we eat? It's almost dinner time." Then I grabbed a bag of zucchini/lentil/rice soup from the freezer and threw it in a pan on the stove on low.

Dinner crisis averted. It'll just thaw and heat up while I do some things around the house.

Well, 'some things around the house' turned into an hour running errands. It was only when I was one block from returning home that the thought of the soup resurfaced in my swirling, dysfunctional cranium (see previous post, if you ignored me last time I told you to read it first).

As soon as I walked in the stairway I knew I was too late. Much much too late.

Now, exhibit A.



Indeed. Zucchini/lentil/rice soup had been transformed into charred zucchini/lentil/rice loaf.

Oops.

So typical these days. So ironic in light of my earlier writing endeavors.

I threw the stuff out to further stink up the stairwell and went with plan B for dinner, which at this point I can't recall. But no matter.

While I was cooking unknown Plan B dinner I also wanted to clean some vegetables that I had just purchased. To do that I first have to fill a big bowl with filtered water. So I put the bowl on a stool under the water filter, opened the tap on the filter and waited for it to fill.

It, of course, wasn't filling fast enough so I naturally began to multi-task in the kitchen. Then all thoughts of filling the bowl with filtered water snuck from the forefront of my mind to somewhere in the back... you know, where all the toys and laundry (and burnt dinners) and stuff is swirling around.

It only popped to the front again when filtered water was not only filling the bowl but also making a good sized puddle in the center of my kitchen floor.

Oops.

So typical these days. So ironic in light of my earlier writing endeavors.

That was Exhibit B. No picture though. Sorry.

But it does not end there folks. Oh no it doesn't.

As I'm now trying to finish cooking unknown Plan B dinner and trying to not step and slip in the giant filtered water puddle in the middle of my kitchen... my boy H came wandering into the kitchen.

He wanted me to see that he had put on one of my sandals. He looked silly with one of my gold strappy sandals on.

But wait, weren't those the shoes I had on?

I glance down.














No. Way.

Yes. Way.

Oops.

So typical these days. So ironic in light of my earlier writing endeavors.

To the fancy hotel. To the fruit stand. To the vegetable stand. To the supermarket.

Two entirely mis-matched shoes. Like, not even close.

And that, my friends, is Exhibit C.

And it's had me laughing ever since. And crying. But not I've-lost-my-mind-crying, but laughing-so-hard-I-have-tears-running-down-my-face (and the faces of my Mom and Sister on the other side of Skype) kind of crying.

Now you have proof. I told you I was a mess. A happy mess, yes... but such a mess, glorious mess...

Mess, Glorious Mess

Lately, things are a mess. My house is a mess. Generally I am a die-hard 'everything has a place, everything in it's place' kinda gal. Order and organization makes the world go round, right? It brings joy to my heart. If you’ve been a reader long, you know this about me. But lately, it just hasn’t been happening.

It’s pajamas in a pile on the floor all day long and a steady line of dirty diapers leading the way from the changing table to the dirty diaper bucket in the bathroom, which, ironically (and to my husband's great distress) has a teetering tower of seven diapers on top of the lid and none actually IN the bucket. There are books everywhere, adult and child versions, including two kids books on a stool by the toilet cause my boy likes to read while he, ya know, takes care of business. There are crumbs from last night’s dinner still under the kitchen table that are now feeding twelve colonies of ants from the four corners of the earth. A now spoiled bottle sits on the bookshelf and there may or may not be three cups of half drank coffee sitting in various places around the house. If someone could please bottle them into tiny capsules and force them down my throat then I might be able to take care of some of this mess.

Mess. Glorious mess.

And besides the visible mess in my house, my brains are also a mess. Now I’m not talking about the emotional-wreck kind of mess (although I’ve been there too, believe you me), but recently it’s more of a failure to properly straighten and organize my brain in the same way that I can’t keep my home straightened and organized. Stuff just gets tossed about in my brain (like in the house) and it quickly becomes impossible to locate the bit of needed information when necessary.

And this isn’t affecting just me.

Just ask my husband. This messy house thing is a source of great distress for him who can hardly function if everything isn’t in it’s place. I'm trying, I really am, but frankly I can’t keep up. And he loves me even when he comes home to see that another toy and laundry hurricane has made us victims in our very own home, yet again. God bless him.

Mess. Glorious mess.

You could also ask my dear friend L about my recent exhibition of great brain disorder. She gets regular perplexed looks from me each time she asks "How was that thing yesterday?" That's when I blank stare in her direction. "What was yesterday?" I have to ask because my brain fingers are snatching about in my head cavity but can’t seem to grasp any floating item of relevant information amongst the swirling bits about toys and laundry. Then she tells me whatever it was I did yesterday. "Oh yeah!! That's right... so and so was great, thanks for asking" I respond once she has refreshed my memory. Then upon parting, she often says, "See ya tomorrow!" At which point I once again get a perplexed look on my face and have to ask "Now, what's happening tomorrow?" She graciously tells me what we have planned for tomorrow, I tell her thanks for reminding me, I’m really looking forward to it and I'm not normally like this. Then we bid adios. However, I realize that the more time this scenario repeats itself... the more I am becoming a liar with my statement. Maybe this brain disorganization is the new me. Lord have mercy.

Mess, glorious mess.

In order to make myself feel better, I have concluded that my disorganized house and my non-functioning cranium are normal because my dear little tweedle dee and tweedle dum are ages three and one. (Are you nodding your head in agreement? Cause I need a little affirmation here, people). I find myself functioning in the urgent for the first time in my life. And not just the the-baby-has-climbed-on-top-of-the-plant-table-and-is-looking-very-proud-of-her-teetering-little-self kind of run over and get her real quick urgent. But the urgent like planning my Sunday School lesson the hour before we leave to go to church and thinking about what we should eat for dinner at like, dinner time. This goes against everything in my body and soul and about gives me a heart attack, but I can’t seem to locate and apply an ounce of fore-thought to some of these things ahead of time, let alone make early preparations. So things get done at the last minute. And that makes me want to grab a paper bag in my fist and breathe into it like they do in the movies... if I could just remember where it was I put those paper bags...

Mess, glorious mess.

But do you know what? I'm enjoying this season of life. I'm content. I'm happy... so happy with where I'm at right now. I surprise myself and find myself actually embracing all this mess. Internal and external.

I know, is this me talking? Really? It's so incredibly unlike me and so different from our usual way of functioning that I fear that my husband might secretly regret the holy union we made seven years ago once he sees that I have combined the words 'embrace' and 'mess' in this post.

;)

The thing is... all the the disorder and chaos reminds me that life is happening. Busy, challenging, happy, glorious life is happening. And I am so thankful for that. So I embrace it. All of it.

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Read the sequel to this post here
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Redemption V - The Burj

I was on a roll yesterday by posting two coupon redemptions in two days... and here comes the third in a row and the final installment. What does that make me now?

It makes me finished with my Christmas coupons, that's what it makes me. Boo. They were so fun. I don't want them to be over. It was the gift that just kept on giving. Until it stopped giving. And now I'm sad.

But let's not dwell on the negative. Let me tell you about the wonderful time I had here today.



The Burj Hotel was the site of my final gift outing. This one was to be enjoyed aaaaaloooone. I took off after the kids went down for a nap and had three glorious hours high in this building where the air was cool and the view was amazing.



I took a glance back toward home on the other side of the Nile and thought that H would be sad if he knew I came to "Da egg pwace" without him. (Hotel looks like a big egg). Kinda hazy/dusty today, huh?



Not in here, my friends! This is where I settled in.

The elevator must be a space warp or something cause this place just doesn't feel like the country I live in...



Isn't it stunning?

Okay. Wait. Don't answer that question. My perspective is skewed, I know. While this place is nice, I realize it's probably not so different from many fancy hotels in the U.S.

But whatever... we're NOT in the U.S. and I want to focus on my current perspective... which is that this place is soooooooo nice.



I partook of this fruit tart (oooohhhh, aaaaaaah)



and this foamy delicious hot chocolate.

And no, I didn't have to share.

With anyone.

Hallelujah and Amen.