Time to start the Garden Plan

The snow is slowly melting and the seed catalogues are coming in piles. There’s a gnawing at the back of my brain that I’m already behind. It’s time to start planning the spring and fall veggie garden, but I’m not sure I’m ready for all of that.

I tend to be overwhelmed looking at the catalogues from Baker’s Creek, Gurney’s, Michigan Bulb and more. And, while Biceps’ nose is stuck in a book as he continues his college studies, mine is stuck in every book relating to natural child birth.

He suggested I take a year off from gardening.

The thought rolls around in my tiny brain as I picture a spring and summer with no weeding, no sliced up hands from me hastily picking okra without gloves on, no fisticuffs with tiny rabbits.

It’s tempting. But, then I look at this….

…and this…

…and this…

…and the smell of this heavenly dirt right in my own backyard.

I remember the fresh salads, the baked zucchini and the cherry tomatoes I ate like candy all summer long. I long for the peppers to grill, the carrots to roast and the okra to slice up and devour in one sitting.

I throw all of the oldest catalogues in the recycling bin and retrieve the sticky notes, pens and highlighters that will soon be flying as I plan the 2014 garden.

It’s time to get down to business. It’s time to put on my big girl underwear. How do you plan your garden?

I loathe baby showers…

I have been subjected to (tortured at) many a shower. Whether it’s a bridal or baby, it’s all the same to me. You are cornered in a room full of people you don’t know, eating on tiny plates and talking about the only thing you have in common-the host.

 

Men don’t realize this, but as a woman, you are subjected to all sorts of horrors–disguised in pink and yellow decor, along with mandated group responses of “oohs and ahhs” for the 10th time over a pair of tiny socks. AND-you must play games like “sniff the diaper”, and pretend you are having a great time.

All I want to do is pile my plate really high with more food, take off my high heels and laugh (snort) with someone that thinks Nacho Libre is one of the best cinematic presentations ever.

However, I’m usually wedged in between Aunt Ethel and Grandma Betty and the last movie they viewed at the “movie house” involved Robert Redford’s first starring role. So, I sit back and relax and carefully dip my celery stick into the unnamed dip. And I try to go unnoticed as I pick that horrible celery stringy thing from my teeth.

So, that’s why I did this.

This is our baby shower invitation. And it has received mixed reviews. (As do most things that I put out there for the world to see.)

I will promise you this-there will be no games at our baby shower. There will be no sniffing of diapers. No clothes pins. No pacifier exchange. No frou-frou decor.

But, there will be food-and lots of it-on giant plates. There will also be men present at our Co-Ed shower. There will be no belly measuring, no guessing of the baby names, and no forced oohing and ahhing.

Is that wrong?

Baby & Nursery Preparedness on a Budget

Apparently, there is a lot to do to prepare for the birth of your first. Little did I know the path we were on when we first found out we were with child.

Here are a few things I never saw coming and to be honest, slightly blindsided me:

1. I would have to buy stretchy pants-like really insane, elastic stretchy pants.
2. I would be using cocoa butter religiously (and the smell always makes me want cookies) on my ever increasing belly.
3. People would touch my stomach. These are people I don’t know and people I do know and people I wish I didn’t know.
4. I would develop a strange brown “racing stripe” down the center of my stomach.
5. I would actually find baby clothes with tiny animals on them-cute.

However, these are minor things to adjust to compared to preparing a nursery for this tiny lad/lass. I’ve always thought, “Give the kid a dresser drawer to sleep in, some milk to drink and a clean diaper. Call it done.”

But….

…then I start to imagine what kind of a sweet setup I could give to the wee little one, without spending all of their college tuition on a silly room they’ll never remember. (HAH! Like we’re paying for your college! Get a job! Cut your hair!).

With my imaginings, I lay awake at night and plot my grandiose nursery plan. The next morning, I start creating things out of almost nothings. Here’s the beginning of the wall decor for the nursery. I will share a tutorial on this as soon as it’s finished and I make sure the project is actually doable.

The mobile to hang over the crib came after much deliberation between Biceps and I. We settled on a concept-with which I will share soon. All I needed was some stuffing, some felt, some more paper mache know-how, and a few coat hangers.

PS-Is that felt? Well, it is now!

Something you must know about me-I hate curtains. Number one: the cats love to destroy them. Number two: they are stinking expensive. Number three: there are never any store-bought curtains that Biceps and I can agree on.

However, when the dollar spent is low enough, Biceps will like almost anything. Enter cheap, heavy duty drop cloths and a little Rebekah-whimsy. This too will be a tutorial I will share-as soon as it’s done. Patience, grasshopper.

And lastly, I must introduce some sort of wooden feature into this baby’s room. Why? Because it brings warmth, it reminds one of nature and of God’s creation…and it’s also inexpensive.

So, maybe this kid will get more than a dresser drawer to sleep in-but they aren’t going to be spoiled, that’s for sure. We all have to make sacrifices, kiddo. And, if I have to wear stretchy pants that sag down to my knees by the end of the day, you can pretend to like your room. Deal?

My Lil’ Helpers-Cute Overload.

Often, when I’m in the middle of a project, I have two great helpers right by my side. They don’t offer tools, advice or lend a hand. And I realize that I have a problem.

They mesmerize me with their cuteness. Take this pose by Maxwell. I call it the “Supercat”.

He excels at this pose. With dangling feet mid-air, he encompasses both the regality of a superhero along with the fuzzy laissez-faire attitude one expects from a cat.

As if to further solidify his laissez-faire attitude, when caught photographing my Supercat subject, I am greeted with this obviously smug face. “What? Are you adoring me again? Oh, go on.”

Then, there is this white beauty who quietly watches me from the other side of the room. She knows she’s pretty, she expects treats for any good deed she performs and she will deceptively steal twine as you are trying to wrap a present.

However, she gets away with it because of these. I’m not kidding. These adorable little mittens get her out of all sorts of trouble. I think I’ve spanked her a total of 5 times in her life-and felt guilty every time.

If I can’t even discipline these lil’ helpers, I think I have no hope for disciplining my pre-destined “Supercute” children. I hope Biceps is stronger than I am.