Couch Questions

I am in love with the chair below.

It is so comfortable. It doesn't have a matching couch, which Ben thinks is a problem. Just sit in it, I told him. You'll just want to buy 4 chairs. Screw the couch.

My brother Ben is moving to our town (we're so excited), and Ben told him he could have our couch and recliner for his new apartment. I am so excited because we have had this couch/chair combo for 5 years, and it is so so comfortable and durable, I haven't even thought about replacing it. But now that I am thinking about it, I am really excited because OMG! Shopping! For stuff to sit on! I love sitting.

We liked this couch even though it reclines (our current stuff reclines, but it is ugly as hell). Until we noticed that it had hydraulics. Can you say severed finger??

What color is this chair?

Seriously. What the hell color is this? Because I like it, if it is the color I think it is. But if it is the color Bn thinks it is, I don't like it.


Now I have some questions for you. Leather or cloth? Which is better and why? What do you look for in a couch? How long do you expect to keep your furniture?

We've secured a babysitter to make some more furniture store rounds and actually buy a couch and love seat or giant chair this weekend (because the kids were good seat-testers but only for a few hours, and Ben apparently needs 64 hours to purchase a piece of furniture), but we just don't know what we're looking for. We thought leather because it is so durable and easy to care for, but we only found really ugly leather stuff (like our current couch, which is ugly as sin but heavenly for loafing). Can cloth survive kids and adults who like to snack on it a lot?

Our week in pictures 5-27-5-31

We had a really excellent end of May-- so much fun I haven't even had time to blog about it or take pictures of it for my family picture blog.

Here's what we've done since we last talked. We:

Enjoyed our last end-of-the-year preschool picnic

Tested out a new cooler in preparation for a picnic where we served chilled baby

Woke up a little grumpy from a car nap on the way to a state park

Loaded up the worst ever stroller for hikes (and the next day almost bought a BOB Dualie at REI)

Showed overwhelming excitement for communing with nature

Climbed on the rocks

Waded in this beautiful lake that was as clear as a glass of water

Covered ourselves in sunscreen for the pool

Dressed Harry up like Joe Dirt

Accessorized a daddy-selected outfit with a potty seat hat

Wrapped Jack up like the little treasure he is

Ate a massive hot dog at brat fest

Wore a hat that looked like a mullet

Discovered the wonder of funnel cake

Frolicked in the sprinkler, refusing to stop even when their lips turned blue





And finally, watched some quality TV

My perfect summer

Oh, you guys, I am no longer scared of summer vacay.

I'll admit, we had a rocky start because we had to cancel our Memorial Day weekend trip to a conference in Minneapolis because Jack was under the weather-- fever, cough, terrible, terrible diaper rash. He probably would have been just fine in retrospect, but we weren't sure, and we didn't want to travel 5 hours to hang with a sick kid in an unfamiliar city. Still, we hemmed and hawed and packed anyway (even though he spiked a fever the afternoon before we were scheduled to leave), and Harry lost his shit a little because he was so excited about the hotel-- the kid loves hotels. So, yeah. A little rocky. (And he is coughing while I type this. So is Harry. Awesome sauce).

But then we did the best thing ever. We joined a pool. *Cue angels singing*

All of my childhood summers of spending all day splashing and sunning and snacking poolside came rushing back the moment we swiped our cards at the front desk and emerged from the locker room into the bright chaos of the pool deck. The boys and I played poolside for 3 hours, and it was bliss.

Now my days have structure, and unstructured days were what was freaking me the freak out:

Morning: Play at a park or at the zoo or in the yard before peak sun rays. Go to the gym. Come home for lunch and naps.
Afternoon: Snack. At 3:00, go to the pool. Have another snack. Come home at 6 to do dinner, bed, and bath.
Evening: Drink wine with husband (but not on the deck because oh my holy hell, we went out there last night, but our cocktail hour was called abruptly on account of BATS. Eeeeeeeeeew.)

Notice nowhere in this plan is sit around the house and scream at each other with the TV on. (Unless it rains. But I even have tricks up my sleeve for the rain: The library. Barnes and Noble. Cooking class. Pump it Up. Little Gym day camps (for H) Indoor swimming at the Y.)

We may mix the mornings up with some swim lessons for Harry in the late summer (we are enrolled already in early summer lessons somewhere else) and trips to some teeny little beaches in our town. And for a few weeks, I'll be spending my mornings teaching summer school, but I'll be home by 1-- plenty of time to swim the day away.

I am anxious about getting too much sun, so we are going to avoid going outside between 11-ish and 3-ish, and we're using lots of sunscreen (with lots of trepidation). I also have the kids in super long swim trunks and rash guards (which? I would like to find long-sleeved-- anyone seen them anywhere?), and I am wearing the most ridiculous large hats and sunglasses. And the dreaded mom-kini. I even bought a 1-piece for the first time in literally my entire life. I'll have a post up about my suburban makeover at AKoP soonish. My sunxiety is funny, considering I spent the first 20 years of my life tanning with baby oil and watching my skin turn the color of lattes. Now I worry about chemicals in sunscreens and watch my moles like it's my job.

Even Ben is stoked about the pool, mostly because it means I will leave him the crap alone in the tantrum filled afternoon, will feed the kids at the pool snack bar (grilled cheese! pizza! ice cream!) a couple days a week, and just generally lay off him if he needs to work late. Also, he wants to play in a tennis league and take advantage of the wifi to work from pool part of the summer. Other than that, he's not a huge fan. While the kids and I played yesterday, he drank beer and watered his grass seed and bushes. He also trimmed the grass between his hostas with scissors because the lawn guys avoid our plants altogether, which is good, but the grass around them is crazy long. Actually Ben had the best afternoon ever because this is the first summer we've lived here (and this is the 4th summer in this place) that we have realized we have a faucet outside and can actually use a hose without having to hook it up to the deep sink in the laundry room and leave the garage door and the door to our house open. We're idiots about stuff like that. Now we can use our sprinklers and baby pool. Duh. So Ben bought a hose and a hose storage thing and hose accessories and had the most fun ever watering his stuff. Whatever makes him happy, right?

zOMG-- Thursday so soon?

Seriously, how awesome is the Hipstamatic iPhone app? It makes all my pictures look cool.








This week has FLOWN by for me precisely because I have spent the whole time trying to savor some significant moments. Harry had his last days of school this week-- his MWF class at the school he's attended for 2 years and his TR class at the odd little school he went to this year. Not only am I sad about the end of my alone time with Jack (and I am really sad about that. I get alone time with Harry everyday while jack naps, but the only time I ever got t hang out with just Jack was when Harry was at school), I am totally freaked out that they don't have school again until September 7th. That's a long time from now.

I don't know if I have mentioned recently how much I love my job. I love my job. Every second I spend at work is a delightful one. I love what I do, and I am still excited about my research, and my office could use a coat of paint, a new bookshelf and a couch, but I love it, too. I. Love. My. Job. BUT, I don't have a ton of summer childcare because our beloved sitter is leaving soon, and this causes me lots and lots of stress. it is one thing to balance work and life with good, reliable help, but it is impossible to keep all those balls in the air without lots of dedicated childcare. I have some time to prep fro fall while I teach this summer and before Jamie leaves. But I know there will be last-minute stuff I need to do in August when I have no sitter, and I am already stressed about it in May (which, now that I type that, seems stupid).

My goals for this summer are to have fun with my kids. Join a pool. Lose 4 pounds. Write an essay. Revise another essay. Download more iPad apps.

How about you? Tell me your vacay plans!

So hard to be me

My massage therapist wore a fanny pack of massage oil that she accessed several times throughout my session (that's what she called it-- my session. As in "You will feel so sore from your session." Yikes). I could tell she was about to lube up her hands by the zip and the sploosh sound her fanny pack made. Dreamy.

She was not the type of therapist I was looking for. Me. A mom who left her kids home with their nanny and read essays in a coffee shop for a couple of hours before showing up for my massage because you know, I've just been so stressed lately. This woman was not interested in my new-age, mindfulness discussion of my tension and anxiety. She demanded to know where my pain was.

Well, you know, I said, my left shoulder is sore from carrying my bag and my toddler, And I tend to store tension in my neck and upper back-- she cut me off and told me to make sure I took off my earrings because she didn't want to accidentally rip my earlobes off. Um. Okay.

When I was facedown (braless, in case you're wondering), she asked me if I usually felt sore the next day when I got massages. No, I told her. Hmph, she growled cracking her knuckles.

In retrospect, I should have declined the face massage.

I'm definitely going to see her again, though. I guess I like a scary massage. Who knew.

The Environmental Working Group put out their summer sunscreen guide, which is absolutely fucking horrifying. Apparently, there is no real evidence that sunscreen prevents skin cancer, but there is evidence that the most common chemical ingredient in sunscreen causes tumors to grow faster. Great.

We already use the 2 screens that get the highest marks, and I like them a lot.

We use Badger all over and California Baby stick for squirmy little faces, ears, and necks. Both are SPF 30 (and the EWG says that higher SPFs may just be bullshit ) and both are physical blockers, not chemical blockers. This means they contain nano particles of minerals like zinc, which may be safe but may also fucking kill you. The jury is still out. Still, the EWG says take your chances with the nano particles.

The best thing to do, though, is to wear lots of clothes; wear a hat, and avoid the sun during peak hours (10-4). When you don't feel like living like a vampire, use a safe(r) sunscreen and reapply. (But don't get too little sun, or you risk a nasty case of vitamin D deficiency. Crap).

Here's chatty Jack from earlier today. Lucky for him, pasty is in.

Interview with a Jackpire from sarah on Vimeo.

Summery Saturday

Harry faced and solved his first sartorial conundrum yesterday. He was wearing an orange shirt and a red hat, and he didn't know which flip-flops to wear-- red or orange.

I think he made a good choice. You would not believe the ring around the tub that remained after he took a bath last night. Or maybe you would. Look at those filthy piggies.

Not only does Harry refuse to listen or follow even the most basic of directions (at least not until he has been asked at least 6 times with increasing agitation on my part and received multiple-- and totally lame and ineffectual-- threats pertaining to the demise of his toys), when he sees that I am starting to get upset and raise my voice, he says, "Waaah, waaah, waaah." (as in "here comes the wambulance"). Totally deadpan. It makes me see red. Red. So, I downloaded a bunch of flashes and lenses for the Hipstamatic app, thinking maybe I could capture his lippiness and my feelings about it. This is close but not quite. I'll try again. (Hey, it's better than giving in to my desire to throttle him, right?)

We had another preschool birthday party yesterday, and Jack was so, so, so happy to be invited. When we finally got there 25 minutes late, he clapped and said "Oooooh," as we approached the party.

We had a grumpy time of it getting ready to go, mainly because I was running about, oh, 25 minutes behind schedule and Jack was too excited to nap, so he fell apart over every little tiny injustice-- and Harry made sure that justice was scarce. They boys acted like I was torturing them when I put the gate up outside their door and asked them to please play in there with the door open while I folded a few loads of laundry and threw a giant hat over my terrible hair. Yes-- it's really hard to be in a huge room with 400,000 toys for 20 minutes. Someone should call the authorities. And I thought someone might-- there was so much brother-on-brother violence and calls of "Mommy! I want to come out!" and some not-so-cooing replies from me. Picture. Perfect.
At the party, Harry was offered a popsicle or a rice krispie treat. He chose both. That's my kid.

After the party, Harry and Jack were covered with popsicle and playground filth, but I still had an hour to kill before their much anticipated breakfast-for-dinner at a greasy diner, and I ws reluctant to take their grimy selves back home. The solution? Another playground!

We lucked out and ran into Harry's old friend from preschool last year, and the boys played for a happy, super hero-filled hour

No-nap Jack was frantically tired, but he held it together kind of.

Then we ate breakfast for dinner and both boys were asleep by 7:15. Aaaaaaaaaaah.

I was supposed to get a massage today but I spent that time untangling my iPhone earbuds from my steering column. I'm achy.

Jack was saying cheese in this picture, which I found more adorable than when Harry first started saying cheese because Jack has been such a man of few words. He talks a lot now, though, and very clearly. He strings together phrases and sentences, and while he is not at all the talker Harry was at this age, he is well within normal range for a 2 year old. Phew!

I let Harry have a piece of gum the other day for the first time because I made him run into Target with me on the way to a birthday party (so I could pick up clips for my wretched hair), and he was agitated about being late to the party. I gave him a stick of Juicy Fruit to stop up his whine hole, and he LITERALLY could not walk and chew gum at the same time. He was concentrating so hard on not swallowing it. Then I almost fell down laughing my ass off.

These pictures have nothing to do with gum, but they're cool. While Jack played completely unattended behind me, I took about fifty bajillion pictures of Harry jumping off this thing and got exactly 2 good ones:



I'm trying this new thing where I don't drink caffeine except for a single cup of half caf in the morning. I bought a bunch of decaf pods for my Kuerig, and I drink them all day. Most of my love of coffee is the taste and holding a hot mug. This drastic change in caffeine consumption has had a wonderful effect on my mood and my patience level. That is to say, I am in a good mood and am patient. It's pretty nice.


Oh my god. This kid. When did he get so big?

And so tidy? He spent most of the time at DQ mopping up spills with his clutch of spitty napkins


I'm done prepping my summer class! Yay! Now it's time to turn my attention to fall before our babysitter leaves town for good. Yikes! Did I mention we're not signed up for camp at all? So once my class is over and Jamie moves to Colorado, it's just me and my kids. For days on end. That patience I was just bragging about? Gonna need it.