Change

What is the formula for perceiving change?

My children grow a little bit every day, but I don't notice it. Then one day I  stumble backwards upon realizing that I can no longer yank Lily's size twelve month bloomers over her diapered butt.

When I diet I am losing a bit of weight each day, but nobody sees it. Then one glorious day people look at me and really see me and say things like, "Wow, are you working out?", "Is that a mirror in your pocket? Because I can really see myself in your pants?", and "Have you lost weight?"

It's more likely that people are noticing my increasing fatness, but I chose (dangit!) to go the positive route and focus on ancient history and my memories of weight loss.

One day I looked in the mirror and realized I was middle-aged. When did that happen?

What is the secret formula?

X amount of change = Y where Y= it becoming apparent to the naked eye?

I want to take the mystery out of it so I can pad myself properly in anticipation of the big moment.

A whale of a greeting

Does Motherhood Make Us Bossy?

I've never been bossy.

I can distinctly remember several times when, as a girl, my Mom took one playmate or another aside and lectured her about bossing me around. Nobody's Mom ever took me aside and gave me the bossy girl lecture. In retrospect my Mom has mentioned quite a few times that she wishes she'd let me handle my own problems more often as a child, but that's another issue. (There are many, many issues.)

I've always been a sidekick, an appendage.

Until I became a Mother.

I don't know what did it. It could have been the complete exhaustion. Or the full arms. Or the ever-present current of panic and drama tinged with love and responsibility. All the forces of nature came at me in just the right quantities and suddenly I was *gasp* asking for help. (Can you believe that? I know, it's so unlike me.)

I was pointing, pleading, prodding. Phrases like "Honey, can you grab me a towel?" were reverberating off of my lips in such an inexcusably smooth manner that I began to wonder what sort of monster I'd have turned out to be had I birthed my first child at a sensibly young age.

The other day when my stepson Brian was over I asked my husband if he wouldn't be more comfortable in a pair of shorts and held them up for his consideration. He retaliated with, "You're not the boss of me, Devil Woman!" and a sideways conspiratorial grin at Brian.

Have I taken things too far?

I don't want to become like Kate Gosselin who publicly berated her imbecilic husband Jon (Why not John? But that's another issue.) on a routine basis. I refuse to give in to the temptation to martyr myself, and then lash out at my husband for not anticipating and undertaking what I needed him to be doing at the exact second and in the manner I thought best.

I say "Please?" a lot. And "Would you mind...", "Since you're over there, do you think you can...". I wince. I overcompensate.

Men have no clue what help we want and need. Yes, to us it seems flagrantly obvious, but to our guys it would be insulting for them to insinuate us to that we don't have things perfectly in hand. Or they've attempted to anticipate our needs and crashed and burned so many times that they're afraid to even try anymore. Or perhaps they're just as exhausted as we are. Or feeling lazy that day.

Should any Dads be reading this, please know that we won't be insulted, and we think it's refreshingly cute when you try to help but miss the mark. We catalog. We remember. We appreciate. We understand . We love.

And we know that you do too. ♥

Mud soup

Last week was surreal.

When I set up a Wordpress blog I enter a trance that numbs my brain. Since accidentally deleting my old Wordpress blog twice, I've developed a healthy respect for Wordpress and its potential for inflicting cruelties. Hence, when I am in a Wordpress trance the world and its inhabitants dance around me as though in another dimension. It's frightening, actually, as I am a Mother and my children deserve and demand my undivided attention. Not to mention my Facebook friends. ;-)

But it's over. It's well and truly over.

I've missed writing. I haven't been able to think creatively as the Wordpress trance shifts my brain into left gear, and blocks off access to right gear, which is where I want and need to be.

My trusty and merciful Kodak camera helped me to capture some of the nuttiness dancing around me last week. Naturally, I couldn't wait to share it with you. :-D

_____



Joe has taken to clearing off the middle shelf of our pantry and climbing in. He shouts, "I'm safe! I'm safe!", which of course has me in a panic, wondering when and where and if he hasn't felt safe. Please note the Joe's O's. I found those at Trader Joe's. You should have seen me running around the store like an idiot grabbing every item labeled "Joe's". I was in a froth. I thought, "What a wonderful coincidence. Joe is going to love these." It wasn't until in the checkout like that I realized the connection between Trader Joe's and "Joe's".

_____



Lily 1.5 seconds before putting the smack down on her unsuspecting and doting brother. Joe was in "I'm the baby" mode. Apparently Lily wanted to be the baby that day. "Get out of my playpen, cretin!"

_____



Here is Miss Lilypie modeling a top I crocheted for her. I started this project about six months ago. After finally getting around to completing it last week, I was dismayed to discover that it barely fits her! Sigh. I'm going to have to get creative and turn it into a dress, kulats or Hammer Pants.

_____



While I was slithering around Lily on my belly trying to get a shot of her new top Joe was busying himself by littering the contents of her green laundry tub about the room. He finally had enough of the Lily photo snapping and put the tub over both of us. Yes, that's my big, fat freakazoid lip. Joe has a look of "Mission accomplished!"

_____



Lily admiring her precious little reflection in the mirror while I wonder if I'm going to be able to put the last two buttons on her top, or if that will render it uncomfortably tight.

_____



Joe and Lily amusing themselves in Lily's shoe and hat drawers. I was amazed and pleased to discover that the purple hat, a gift from Lily's Grandma, still fits her.

_____



I walked out front one day to find Grandma and Joe and Lily making mud soup. I was instantly transported back to the era of my youth. Oh, how I loved all things mud! I got a little carried away and brought out a massive bag of crutons to add to the soup which turned out to be a less than inspired decision ant-wise.
_____



Mmm... you know you want some!

_____



I made this hat a while back just to see if I could crochet a spiral pattern. I was trying it on Lily when Joe suddenly developed an interest in it. He walked around the house like that for about half an hour, inspiring me to videotape him. I'll refrain from publishing said video in to help stave off future teasing from guyville.

_____



All's well that ends watermelon. :)

Converting Blogger Blog to Custom Domain

Image by Nick Lawes via Flickr

Unless any of you can give me a compelling reason not to, I've decided to bite the bullet and combine my blogs. The idea is to convert Happymaking (http://happy-making.blogspot.com) into my custom domain (http://heatherkephart.com).

My blog will still be called "Happymaking". It will simply live at a new address that bears my name. The posts that currently exist at Textual Medium will (better!) remain. From what I understand there will be a re-direct, and I can transfer my RSS feeds so the move should have little impact.

Is this a really bad idea? Please tell me if it is. I don't want to alienate my beloved readers, or screw up my feeds and followers. I just don't have the time to run two blogs right now. Thank you. :)

Converting Blogger Blog to Custom Domain

[caption id="attachment_486" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Image Source: Nick Lawes, Flicker"][/caption]

Unless any of you can give me a compelling reason not to, I've decided to bite the bullet and combine my blogs. The idea is to convert Happymaking (http://happy-making.blogspot.com) into my custom domain (http://heatherkephart.com).

My blog will still be called "Happymaking". It will simply live at a new address that bears my name. The posts that currently exist at Textual Medium will (better!) remain. From what I understand there will be a re-direct, and I can transfer my RSS feeds so the move should have little impact.

Is this a really bad idea? Please tell me if it is. I don't want to alienate my beloved readers, or screw up my feeds and followers. I just don't have the time to run two blogs right now. Thank you. :)

Sunday morning brain freeze

Image by quinn.anya via Flickr

I can't write anymore.

Don't you hate it when you wake up before your brain does?

Brump Brump Brump Brump.

Perhaps I will look at some Avon stuff. I am almost out of bubble bath for the kids.

Brump Brump Brump. 

Maybe I should crochet some granny squares and sew them into the shape of underwear and market them as granny panties. But with all those holes they would hardly be practical. Or stretchy. Nobody wants to see a woman with granny panties around her ankles by the water cooler at work.

*Suckles pinky finger*

Or I could eat.

Oh no, I hear Dennis in the other room firmly asking Joe to, "Give me that!" I wonder what he's got? Sharpie? Disposable razor? Blow torch? Hmmm...

*Inspects fingernails*

I really need to clip them. Why do fingernails grow at different paces? The nail on my ring finger is shorter than the nail on my middle finger. I wonder if it's designed that way for a reason?

*Stretches and almost locks up back*

I want that Touch N Brush. That's a good idea. But it's $19.99 and I can expect to wait 2-6 weeks for delivery. Two to SIX weeks? Quite a spread. What's that all about? I wish I could say, "Your dinner will be ready in two to six hours."

*Picks at lip*

Perhaps I will hang some pictures today. I keep putting it off because I can't locate a laser picture hanging helper device like ever. Where do they go? We only have like fifty of them.

*Publishes post*