surprise visitors.

after i put finn down for a nap this afternoon, i found myself in our warm and sunny kitchen folding laundry and reminiscing about the past two years we've had here in our home, and how quickly the time has gone by.  as i was shaking out a sheet, there was a little rap at the door.  i was surprised, because i wasn't expecting anyone, but when i glanced over i saw a big white beard and immediately thought it was our friend larry who painted the kitchen for us.  i smiled and headed to the door, but then i realized it wasn't larry at all. 

it was santa!
actually, it really was santa!  and it wasn't.
standing on our front porch was a fellow named kevin, who grew up as a little boy in this house (one of many little boys actually), and eventually became the executor of the estate after his parents passed away.  he is the man we bought the house from.  he also so closely resembles santa claus that he dons the red suit throughout the holiday season professionally.

we haven't seen kevin or his wife since we bought the house almost two years ago, so i was really happy when they stopped by.  we have done so much work, and i was really anxious to see what he thought.  they were also just as anxious to see what we had done, and i could barely keep up as kevin rushed from room to room with eyes twinkling.

i don't know why, but it was so very important to me to have their approval.  i think because the house is so very special, and because it was so very special to them.  a family was born and raised here.  a family lived in these walls for 60 years before we did.  an entire lifetime of memories were made.  when we work on this house, we try to do justice to those memories.  it has always been important to me to honor them.

kevin and his wife noticed so many things that warmed my heart.  how the rooms looked brighter and bigger because of the way i'd hung the curtains.  how the way i'd placed the furniture away from the walls made the family room more inviting.  how the thrifted decor we work so hard to collect and choose specifically works so well in the space.  they were so happy with what we had done.  he said the newly painted back room looked like a wyeth painting.  i could have died right then and there. 

they were also so happy with little things we hadn't changed.  things we knew had stories behind it or were full of character. 
like left the razor hole in the bathroom wall:

 ("my dad put his old razors in there! they're probably still there!"). 

and not replaced a broken glass in one of the bedroom cabinets:

 ("i punched that out when i was drunk one night and my dad wore me out!"). 

they loved hearing that billy still uses the stone fire pit outside to grill on, just like they did.  and that we host big christmas gatherings with music and laughter, just like the ones they had for so many years before us.

each of the seven family members that grew up here were or are still career musicians.  most of them have been professionally recorded.  lefty, the oldest brother, in his late 70's, plays and sings in nursing homes for $30 a week.  he just can't imagine doing anything other than music, and he never has.  he is the kind of musician i respect the most. 

kevin and his wife just played a sold out concert a few weeks ago in kennett square.  music was such a big part of their childhood here and their lives in general, so the fact that the house is still riddled with pianos, guitars, drum sets and amps made kevin positively giddy.  he stopped to sit in the music room and play one of billy's guitars and sing for a few minutes.  i know that his father passed away a few feet from where he was playing, in that very room.  seeing him there humming a tune with a smile on his face and memories flooding over him made me feel honored.  and it made me feel proud. 

we are so blessed to be able to carry on a tradition of music and family behind these walls.

due date.

this day last year was my due date.

little did i know that my baby wouldn't show up until twelve whole days later, and he wouldn't come easy.  those twelve days were some of the longest and most physically uncomfortable of my entire life.  but the days that came after have been some of the very best.

finn wilde, you were worth the wait.

ch ch ch changes! part two.

we are also turning and facing the strange in the kitchen.

billy painted the majority of the kitchen, and then the guys who did the back rooms for us finished painting it.  yay!

i can't show you complete before and afters of the kitchen yet either, because it's not done. we still have to do the floors and there is nothing re-hung on the walls.  it's just simply been patched up and painted.  which makes a huge difference in and of itself, but it's looking a little stark right now.  here's a sneak preview though.

before.
pancakes anyone?

 

during.

we also bought new counter tops for the kitchen, but ran into a ton of trouble upon trying to remove the old ones.  trouble as in, we could not remove them at all without the kitchen walls crumbling around us.

in a last ditch effort we decided to peel all of the weird yellow counter top stuff off of the counter tops to see what was underneath them.  we were kind of surprised to find semi-cool old 50's plywood that was in semi-good condition.  except for a few random spots where it looked like someone had dumped a gallon of melted caramel. we scraped it all off (60 year old glue ain't goin' easy) and have sanded some of the plywood.  it actually looks okay.  we are considering leaving just the plywood counters and sanding and oiling them, and returning the wood butcher block counter tops we bought at ikea.  we will then call our counters "authentic" and "rustic", not "cheap" or "half finished".  please take note.

we have not finished sanding or oiling the counters, because, let's face it people, this amount of work on our one day off a week together while trying to keep a one year old from eating lead based paint chips is pretty daunting.  we're going in spurts.  so yet again, here is just a sneak peek for you until i can happily show you a finished product.

before.
yes, i missed the memo on child proofing.

before.
billy is either hiding from me, taking a nap,
or trying to get out the counter tops.

during.
this counter has not been sanded or oiled,
i just wiped it off with a sponge.  not too bad, eh?

stay tuned!  i can't WAIT to get this thing finished!

ch ch ch changes!

turn and face the strange!
ch ch ch...
okay, so here's what's happening.

exciting things!

professional people came and painted the back hallway, back room, and back half bathroom!

you have never seen pictures of these rooms before because they were horror film worthy.
i think originally it was the stable, (no shit) which was then connected to the kitchen at some point in the 50's.

we never ever use the back room and it kind of became a catch all for things i didn't want in my way in the kitchen... like snow boots, weird canned goods and assorted sodas mumpeg gave me, red solo cups, dog food, etc.  i was kind of okay with pretending that room just wasn't there, but the one problem is that the half bath that is off of that room is the only bathroom on the entire first floor.  so when people come over, they almost always end up wandering back there to pee. 

i know all of you who have ever peed in the back bathroom were scared for your lives and thought something was literally going to catch you with your pants down.  the large rat holes chewed in the plaster walls probably just confirmed your fear.  thank you for hiding your looks of horror and being polite.

we decided since we were  going to try and tackle the kitchen (more on that later) that we should try and tackle the back rooms at the same time.  get it all done in one shot, and then have a bathroom that people could use outside of a game of truth or dare.  so some awesome dudes came over to paint for us.

of course these awesome dudes were in for no easy job.  turns out the crumbling walls were covered in oil based lead paint and alabaster... an old white wash they used in the 30's that was cheaper than paint.  alabaster apparently sucks all of the moisture out of regular paint and causes it to immediately crumble off the wall.  perfect!  so they had to scrape everything off, then paint everything with oil based primer, patch the walls with some kind of plaster, and then paint it with regular paint.  it was a process.  a smelly, dusty process.

we are still in the middle of this renovation, so i can't post complete before and afters yet, but here is a sneak peek of the back room.

"before."
it's okay. you can come out from under the bed now.

"during."
i can't wait to show you more! stay tuned!

a HUGE milestone.

but it's not for who you think!

today was a big big day for the infamous tucker murphy, our (sometimes) beloved pooch.

a quick tucker background-

the first year billy and i moved to pa, we decided we wanted to adopt a boxer.
i tracked down a local boxer rescue group and filled out an application.
we asked specifically for a purebred female, preferably brindle, and under six months.

we got tucker.

basically he is the polar opposite of everything i requested.

but when we found out he'd been sitting in a crate for the past eight months waiting for a family, we couldn't say no.  he was an absolute disaster, found as a stray, and he has been wreaking havoc in our lives for the past four years.  he makes us laugh, he makes us cry, he makes me proud, and (more often than not) he makes me want to punch him in the face.  he makes me a better person.

i have always wanted to take tucker to this big off leash dog park about a mile from our house, but we never have.  mostly because once tucker gets off the leash he doesn't typically like to return to the leash, and also because he's kind of a punk.  we go to this park a lot lately because they have great swings and a tot lot, but tucker always waits in the car while finn and i play.

but for some reason today was different.  we went to the tot lot and left tucker in the car as usual, but i was feeling brave and decided after we had our fill of the swings that we were going to get tucker and attempt the off leash park. 

it's a huuuuge park with wide open spaces, a wooded area, a creek, and lots of opportunities for disaster to strike.  it was packed full of dogs.  we were parked at the other end of the parking lot, so i flung finn on my hip and kept tucker right at my other side as we trekked over.  i tried to think positively and talk reassuringly to tucker.  none of us had any idea what to expect. 

once we got to the gate, i just let him go.
it was scary, and it was glorious.
he was suddenly well mannered and wonderful!  he galloped in, and immediately ran up to a huge male german shepherd.  i stiffened.  but tucker practically shook his hand like a politician and then strode off to say hello to a yellow lab.  it was unreal!  there was no barking or dominance issues like we've had in the past.  he played for about 45 minutes, and he absolutely loved it. 

although tucker seemed to get along swimmingly with everyone at the park, i think i managed to drive everyone bonkers.  mostly because i ran around like a lunatic stage mom screaming "tucker! look at you! you're doing it! you're playing so well!  you're doing such a good job! you're so nice! look how happy you are! look how happy he is! he's doing it! we're doing it! i'm doing it!!!! he's playing! he's running! he's saying hi! tuck you're saying hi! that was so nice! you're being so nice! tucker i'm so proud of you! finn we are so proud of tucker aren't we so proud of tucker we're so proud of tucker!!!!"

finn loved being outside too, and he laughed every time tucker played with another dog.  i was so happy that everything was going so well, and i even managed to get tucker back ON the leash without too much trouble.  mission accomplished.

i have to say i am feeling pretty proud of myself for attempting this expedition solo and succeeding, but i am even more proud of tucker.  i am sure he will do something ridiculous in the near future to exasperate me entirely, but right now i am reveling in this one wonderful afternoon in which he surprised me in a good way.

way to go, tuck!

(he's that little white fleck at 3 o'clock)

the best stain remover of all time ever holy crap it's magic!

while wasting my time acquiring invaluable domestic skills on pinterest the other day, i noticed my friend jacquelynn had pinned a stain removing pic.  it promised to be a magic solution for getting out yellow armpit stains on old t-shirts, but also many other types of stains.  of course i thought, eww, i'm not going to pin that, and went about looking for something more applicable to my daily life, like high end runway shows.

then, this morning, finn busted his lip open.  real good.  for the first time ever.  i was making coffee and he was crawling around on the kitchen floor with his toys, and the next thing i knew he got an arm tangled and face planted.  i actually heard a crunch.  i thought for sure he had broken his nose.  he did one of those breath holding cries where he didn't make any noise for like 30 seconds because he was so freaked out.  i picked him up and all i saw was a mouthful of blood.  i immediately thought "oh crap, he's going to need stitches." and then the next thing i thought, as he buried his little bloody drooly tear covered face into my shoulder, was "oh crap, i'm never going to get this stain out of my sweater."  yep. mother of the year award over here, people.

i mentally chalked the sweater up for lost, and moved on to first aid.  turns out lips just bleed a lot, and finn did not need stitches.  i got the bleeding to stop really quickly with a cold wash cloth and then he calmed down.  he sported a fat lip for the rest of the day, but he survived.

my sweet little tough guy.

then this afternoon a little light bulb went off in my head, and i thought... pinterest stain remover!  i'm going to try it in real life!

i am semi new to pinterest and have not tried too many things in real life, but my sister-in-law jen is like the queen of pinterest and uses everything in real life (yeah she totally made that paint chip calendar and it's adorable).  she is my pinterest hero so i thought i would pick up the torch and try to carry on the murphy pinterest phenomenon.

so, here's how it all went down.

first up, here's the original link i used.  she breaks it down nicely.

here's my abbreviated version:
1 part dawn original dish liquid (the blue kind)
2 parts hydrogen peroxide
a little shake of baking soda for good measure

having high hopes, i made a big batch in an old spray bottle and sprayed the magic stain remover on my sweater and finn's little superhero t-shirt.  

it pretty much came out of finn's t-shirt right before my eyes. *gasp!* but my sweater seemed a little bit more troublesome, so i took some pictures for before and afters.  here they are now!

before

immediately after spraying stain remover

i waited a few minutes (i'm very impatient, maybe two minutes)
and then scrubbed it in a bit with a sponge. 
the outcome looked dismal.

i laundered it in cold water with a load of towels that was
already going.  then i took it out and SHAZAM!
no more bloody boo boo stain.

i don't know about you guys, but this is basically a really lame domestic blog post that confirms my membership in the frumpy mom club changing my life.

i will probably spend the entire day tomorrow trying to get old stains out of everything possible.  like old grease stains out of cute yoga pants that could be sexy but the grease stain just makes them look tired? YES! billy's white v necks that he refuses to throw out and i sometimes use to dust the furniture? YES! that questionable spot on the carpet upstairs that came out of one end of tucker but i'm not sure which? YES!!! YES!!! YESSS!!!!!!!

*spins around the kitchen clutching magic stain removing spray and laughs uncontrollably*

there will be no survivors!

all stains will be destroyed!

*wipes tears from face and attempts to appear composed*

seriously though.
you're welcome.
(jen! high five!)

weeknight dinners.

i try to make dinner every night, but realistically i end up making dinner about four nights a week.  the other three nights we normally eat left overs or get carry out sushi or something.  i consider myself an average cook.  kind of a church supper/casserole cook.  i don't normally attempt anything expensive or time consuming. 

over the past couple of weeks i've been snapping pictures of the things i've made for dinner.  i found that it was motivating.  ooh look i made pretty dinner! 

we normally eat pretty late around here... around 7:45.  after the little one is tucked in and sound asleep is when i get cooking.  that way billy and i have some uninterrupted time to catch up with each other. sitting down to dinner together every night is really important to each of us. 

here are some of the meals i made recently, some with recipes.  i hope they might come in handy for you!  i am always on the prowl for good week night dinners, so please post your favorite recipes if you wanna!

 apple and chicken sausage from trader joe's, butter lettuce, and sweet potato and quinoa cakes.  the cakes turned out really delicious.  you can get the recipe here.

 ribeye, baked potato with crimini mushrooms, roasted brussel sprouts.

i do not eat beef or pork, but billy does! so sometimes i make him a steak.  this makes him very happy.  i always make my steaks in a cast iron skillet with lots of butter.  also, a long time ago i read this tutorial and how to make the best baked potato, and i've been making them this way ever since.  they always turn out perfect.

salmon cakes, cous cous, and green beans.  

i loosely used ina garten's salmon cake recipe.  and by loosely i mean i used canned salmon and i didn't have half of the required ingredients.  they still turned out awesome (even though they look a little charred in this picture... i swear they weren't!)

 lemon chicken, sweet carrots, rice and peas.

i think the best way to make carrots delicious is to dump a bunch of honey or even karo syrup on them.  you could probably make mulch delicious that way, too. 

 chicken, vegetable and potato soup.

this was a fridge dump.  normally when everything in the fridge is starting to go bad i make it into a soup. 

 ribeye for billy and flounder for me, mashed potatoes and braised asparagus.

i love broiling the heck out of asparagus so it's really crispy and crunchy. yum!

 ravioli with caramelized fennel.

i used this real simple recipe.  but i added crimini mushrooms and parmesan cheese and toasted pine nuts.  it was tasty.

pan fried tilapia, braised asparagus, beans and rice (zatarains what!)

welp, that's all folks.  maybe i'll post some more dinners in the future.  you should, too.  all of the culinary blogs are a little out of my league.  i need normal people dinner inspiration!

pussy willow= friends forever.

this guest blog is by my dear friend, kara.
kara is hilarious and has a little book review blog.  i refer to it constantly and basically read everything she tells me to.  you probably should to.

i can't tell you too much about how kara and i know each other, because she does that in her blog.  but i can tell you that we met at extremely awkward and innocent times in our lives.
times when i was mostly obsessed with color coordinating my braces rubber bands with the holidays and pretending i lived in colonial times. doesn't everyone go through that phase? no?

i can also tell you that kara's blog contains one of the most embarrassing stories of my childhood.  it will leave you cracking up laughing, and probably no one will ever look at me the same way.  it's worth it. 

although the jury is still out on whether or not i actually grew out of my awkward phase, kara clearly did:

yeah, she's kind of a babe.

thanks, kara!


I have been trying to think of something clever to write here on Meg’s blog for a while… And I am coming up blank in many ways. 

So here I am about to tell you the most amazing story of how Meg and I know each other and have known each other for something close to twenty years.  I kid you not. 

I grew up in a cute little neighborhood full of people that, in my kid mind, were ancient (looking back now I think they were all my parents age or just a bit older… now look at who’s the old person?!).  This gave me very few neighbors to run down the street to play with.  There were a few of course; my closest in age friend though was a boy that lived down the street that was so accident prone he spent a majority of his time in the hospital.  I think the year I met Meg, he had been hit by a car twice (while riding his bike down the street outside his own house, by the SAME OLD MAN BOTH TIMES!!!) and was in the hospital the week of Thanksgiving, leaving me with time to kill, or stalk.  Both work in this situation since I think I spied a blond little girl playing at a neighbors one day and went up and introduced myself and started hanging around her constantly…

Meg, on the other hand lived in Maryland and came to visit her Aunt and Uncle who lived down the street from me.  (Who, oddly enough, I referred to as Aunt Becky and Uncle Joel as well even though they were just family friends.)  The only time I saw Meg was at Thanksgiving when her whole family got together.  The Gurley’s house would be packed full of their family, and very very busy, yet my sister and I found a way to sneak in and hang out with Megan and Mandy every chance we got.  And vice versa.  We played all sorts of games, imagined tons of scenarios and even thumbed through a Victoria Secret catalog that we found and were fascinated by.  I think at one point we “practiced” drama by standing on a couch yelling, “I am melting!” like the witch from Wizard of Oz and criticized each other on how we acted… and played school and runaways and house and even played “vet” on their dog Willy one too many times.  Man, good times. (was Willy your dog Meg or your cousins?)

It was always a sad day when the holidays came to an end and Meg’s family drove away.  But we vowed to be best of friends always, so we established a way to stay in touch.  We became pen pals, and wrote to each other constantly.  I actually have a box in storage at my parents house, chock full of letters saved from Meg. I really need to find those and some of the awesome pictures I am sure I have as well…

The best part of this story? The funny part, you ask? It’s that we established code names for each other based on a plant we found together while walking the neighborhood.  It was a PussyWillow bud. (although now that I look it up…it might have been a different plant, we just didn’t know any better.) 

For at least a year I referred to Meg as Pussy Isaac. 
And she called me Willow Johnson. 
(pretty cool name for me but I bet you didn’t read that first one without giggling.) 

We even addressed our envelopes with these names.  Ah childhood innocence!  My mom finally caught on and put a stop to it with a firm explanation of what some people use the word, “pussy” for. 
Oh. 
My. 
Gosh. 
Are you kidding me?! (I can’t stop laughing while writing this!) In shock and horror, I quickly changed Meg's code name to Puffy (That’s a terrible nickname! What was I thinking?! I am so sorry Meg!!!) and had to explain to her why I'd made the subtle change to her nickname.  

The part that makes me laugh so hard is; can you imagine the postal workers handling our letters?!  If it was me, I would have died laughing every time.  Here comes these letters covered in stickers and elementary school aged handwriting, either addressed to or from a Pussy Isaac!!!  It’s just too much.
 
This one’s for you, Dearest Pussy Isaac… You have been such a fun friend.  I am so glad we still know each other and can play pen pals via facebook and blogging now!  I adore this blog of yours and someday soon I may write you a blog that doesn’t involve the word Pussy.

la la la love day.

ours was pretty low key, as we are all getting over colds. 
but we like to keep valentine's day pretty low key anyway.

i tried desperately to get a picture of finn sitting or standing nicely with a very cute quilted heart pillow that i found at the antique store, and some blocks i arranged to say "be mine".

i literally drew blood trying to get this picture.
(i stubbed my toe on a nail sticking out of the floor boards while i was lunging forward to stop his hand from destroying everything.)

must destroy.

finn obviously doesn't understand that blocks are not for playing with, they are only for photography props, and chairs are not for chewing on or climbing, they are only to rest your elbow lightly against whilst your fist is placed ever so gently under your perfectly tilted chin.
is this concept so hard to grasp?
clearly he's behind.

billy and i both vowed no valentine's day gifts, only handmade cards. 
but then we both forgot to make handmade cards.
so we decided to just open a nice bottle of wine we'd been saving, and i made eggplant parm for dinner. 

does this necklace hide my mom frump?

you is pretty and i eat you.

billy was devastated.

everything was delicious, and billy did the dishes while i kept drinking wine. 

in other words, our valentine's day was perfect.

hope yours was too! <3

Eccentric by Association.

I thought long and hard on how to introduce this guest blog by the incomparable Lindsay Taylor Mousseau, because really she needs no introduction.  She is one of the loveliest people I have ever met, and have the privilege of calling a best friend, and a sister from another mister.

Lindsay is the real life equivalent of Penny Lane from the movie Almost Famous. (OF course you remember that character by Kate Hudson.)  Not only is she a muse, a lover and appreciator of all things art and music, but she is also a true creative talent herself.  She is a wonderful writer and I have no doubt I will see her published one day.

It's just a shame she's so unfortunate looking. ;)

Lindsay gave us a little glimpse into her world of music and art with this post, and what a beautiful world it is.  Thanks, LT!
Purple! Your aura is purple!


About six months ago, my husband played a gig at a local downtown bar called The Calico Room.  It’s a sweet little spot just far enough away from downtown’s locus of chaos to be sufferable.  Plus they support original music, which is always a good sign.  (By the way, my husband’s band is called Great Zeus’ Beard.  You can check them out here!) And did I mention this bar is co-owned by none other than Meg’s brother-in-law…the one and only Tripp Murphy?  I didn’t?  Well, it is. 

So we’re at the bar and the first thing we notice upon entry is the gorgeously idyllic, almost too beautiful art hung on every available wall.  The images depicted were of a young girl or boy with long skinny limbs and perfect fairy-like features in the style of Tim Burton.  These lithe figures cavorted through a fantasy land of always-twilight.  They floated in tea cups or top hats or umbrellas, held aloft by clusters of colorful balloons.  Or they pranced atop delicate flowers, surrounded by crooked buildings and secret doorways in trees.  Painted in the soft, muted cotton-candy hues of sunset, these frescoes were something out of a dream.

Of course, I had to have one.  The pieces weren’t wildly expensive (ranging from the basic 2’x2’ for around $400, to the oddly-shaped panoramic ones at upwards of $1,000), but for the average Joe they weren’t cheap either.  Despite this, we were more than eager to shell out the dough (purchased on a credit card, adding to our already substantial new house/wedding debt).  It’s a rare thing when you come across something that speaks to you on such a visceral level, and we had found a piece that we just couldn’t live without.  And then there was Tripp, ever the salesman, telling us how quickly they were selling.  We didn’t want to risk showing up in a few weeks to discover they were all gone.  So we made our purchase, and we have never regretted that decision.     

I can’t tell you why Steve wanted the particular piece we chose, but I can tell you why I wanted it.  It spoke to me because it contained both a boy and a girl.  The boy, all dark hair and mysterious glamour, reminded me of Steve.  Bedecked in a finely tailored suit and top hat, the boy himself was riding in a giant top hat and suspended mid-air by balloons.  And I like to imagine myself as the girl in the picture, with her fair hair pulled into low pig tails.  She’s standing delicately in a tea cup, lit from behind by the glowing doorway from whence she came, a secret doorway positioned in the crown of a tree.  This girl is holding fast to the end of a rope and looking wistfully, admiringly up towards the boy in the top-hat.  The boy, in turn, is pulling his end of the rope, pulling her to him, so that they can float around in this beautiful surreal world together.

The piece is titled, “Come Fly With Me,” and was painted by the brilliantly talented Gabriel Lehman.  It’s hanging in my hallway, and it’s all I can do not to swat at people’s hands when they admiringly touch the unique plaster texture.

I love things that are beautiful and creative.  Speaking of which…

Meg and I have a beautiful girlfriend named Patty Stanley who is a creative soul, and over the past few years has dabbled in most everything artistic, from playing guitar and drums to writing poetry and children’s books.  For her day job, she’s a hair stylist, which is artistic in its own right.  But lately her newest creative outlet has been art.  Art art.  Paint and canvas art.  She’s only been at it for a year now, but already she is showing an immense amount of potential.  I’m not the only one who thinks so, because she currently has her work on display up at a posh little restaurant in downtown Wilmington called Deluxe. 

You guys know about Deluxe, right?  Stellar food, trendy atmosphere, the best looking hostesses you’ve ever seen (Meg and Patty have both previously held this title), fantastic local art on the walls, and occasionally even musicians play during brunch.  It’s kind of the place to be. 

So just last month, on Friday the 13th, Patty had her art opening at Deluxe.  I’ve got one of those boring day jobs that pretty much sucks the energy out of my soul, so most nights I can’t fathom dragging my exhausted butt down to a bar to hang out with people who only woke up six hours prior…people without real jobs, without kids, without mortgages.  Ya know, kids living the dream (until they’re not anymore).  But really, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t show up to Patty’s art opening???  Not a good one, and it was a Friday night, so I didn’t really have an excuse. 

But here’s where it gets good.  Not only did I get to go and revel in Patty’s awesomeness, I discovered that the brilliant Gabriel Lehman would also be unveiling some new art at Deluxe.  I finally got to meet the man behind the paint brush, and let me tell you, it was…weird.

Artistic types, as a rule, are always a little bit mad.  It has to be a prerequisite or something.  Patty probably seems normal to the casual viewer but she’s been known to be afflicted with dark, twisted mood swings where she’ll lock herself in a dimly-lit room and swig on gallon jugs of wine while solemnly cutting off pieces of her hair.  I’m sure Meg, who lived with her for a while, can attest to that.  

But Gabriel was on a completely different level.  He looked like a character out of one of his paintings, top hat and all, and he thought everything was b.e.a.u.t.i.f.u.l.  My dress was b.e.a.u.t.i.f.u.l.  My friend’s plain black scarf was b.e.a.u.t.i.f.u.l.  He even told me he had met my husband Steve a few weeks before and that he thought Steve was b.e.a.u.t.i.f.u.l.  Gabriel had plenty of interesting things to say, but would get only halfway through them and then, with a cock of his head to the side, he’d go off onto an entirely different tangent, and then that too would trail off into silence.  It was so strange…I felt compelled to sit at a table with him the entire night and soak up the madness. 

There’s a movie just released on DVD called Midnight In Paris with Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams that I’ve recently been appreciating in a whole new way.  In the film, Owen’s character is visiting in France.  He romanticizes the French culture and lives his life lost in nostalgia for the so-called Golden Age: the roaring 20’s.  He finds himself so immersed in this yearning for a better time that on his midnight strolls through the City of Light, he time warps back to the 20s and gets to meet and become friends with such artistic icons as Cole Porter, Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, and Salvador Dali.  It was enlightening to see how bizarrely Picasso, and especially Dali, were portrayed.  They were eccentric, bordering on insane.  Just the way artists should be.

After meeting Gabriel, it makes me wonder if all the musicians and artists that I’ve met and become friends with over the years might someday be revered and remembered as icons of their generation.  God, I hope so.  Cause that makes me cool by association. Or maybe that just makes me a groupie.  Either way, I’m honored to be a part of their lives.

To check out more of Gabriel’s work, go here.

To see what creativeness Patty’s been up to, go here.

the other side of infertility.

the road to pregnancy is not always an easy one, and if you yourself haven't struggled with infertility, you probably know someone close to you that has.  i can't imagine the darkness that comes with struggling to conceive.  but have you ever wondered what it's like to be on the opposite end of the spectrum?  to be someone who got pregnant easily or even accidentally when someone in your family could not?  it's a tale that's not often told, but, i have learned, can surprisingly be just as lonely.

allow me to introduce you to whitney, my first guest blogger!  a recent but dear friend and soon to be family member!  whitney is engaged to our good friend john, who billy grew up with and considers a brother.  they are also expecting their first baby this summer!  (we couldn't be more excited for them!)  whitney is sweet, funny, has a killer sense of style, and gives one hell of a hair cut!

oh yeah, she's kind of a looker, too.

i was pleasantly surprised when whitney sent me this guest blog.  it is deeply personal, and i am so glad that she put her story out there for us to read.  i hope you find her honesty and bravery as refreshing as i do.

I have been meaning to write a guest blog for sometime now, so here it goes.

At first I wanted to write something humorous...

Like about my client (a local, self-employed escort) who asked me if California was up north.

Or about the lady who replied "I ain't no lesbian!" after I offered her my umbrella at the grocery store.  

But I keep going back to a topic that is a bit closer to my heart. 

So I apologize for the serious tone, but I think it's time for me to write about this and be at peace with it all (a strong attempt at least).

I am just reaching 17 weeks in my pregnancy, and no, I am not married. 

And yes, we got engaged after we found out about the baby (although he assures me he had been planning his proposal since August). 

And yes, we are having an intimate wedding ceremony before the baby is born for our own personal reasons, and no, no one has pressured us into making that decision. 

And yes, we have just been dating for a smidge over a year, and I am completely aware that to so many, that is considered rushing...

For me however, after my first date with John, I texted my sister saying, "I just went on a date with the man I'm going to marry".  She laughed at me (to be fair I was joking....but serious), but I just knew this was something special.

Everything happened so fast and I've never been HAPPIER.  Seriously, ever. We have an adorable house, two amazing dogs, we both have great jobs/careers, wonderful friends and family, we're planning a few beautiful wedding celebrations, and we get to look forward to a little bundle of  joy this summer.  Sounds like everything is peachy keen right? 

It is. 

Except for this one thing... I miss my sister. A lot.

My sister is not deceased, she is not across the world on some religious expedition, she isn't in the military or in prison, or on a quest somewhere trying to solve world peace .  She lives in Kansas City, and she has a hard working husband and two BEAUTIFUL twin babies (they are turning two on Earth day this year). 

But, she has decided that she can no longer have me in her life.  

So here's the quick background story......

My sister tried for a very long time to get pregnant, she couldn't. Finally, she tried IVF and was blessed with beautiful twins! These would be my parents' first grandchildren and my brothers and I's first niece and nephew.  We were all so overwhelmed with joy, not only for our growing family, but a joyful sense of relief for my sister and brother-in-law.  If anyone deserved these babies, they did. Two healthy and beautiful babies! 

When I found out we were going to be expecting our first, my sister had just gone through another treatment (not quite as extensive as her original IVF, but along the same lines). 

It didn't work.  

She was devastated. 

In turn, I was scared to tell her my news.  After my engagement I tried calling her many times, but she had a hard time being happy for me because of her devastation so she never returned my calls.  We began telling our family and friends of the baby news but asking them to please not share anything online (i.e. Facebook), because Ashley didn't know yet.  

Finally, I realized she had no intentions of calling me back, so I asked my mother if she would please tell her my news.  My mother attempted to, but she couldn't bring herself to do it, she was afraid of the whole, "shooting the messenger" thing.  I didn't blame her, but I began feeling horrible that John couldn't shout it from the rooftops like we both wanted to so badly, and decided I wasn't going to hide my exciting news any longer.  Everyone was free to know and we were happy to celebrate however we wanted (lets face it, facebook is the center of communication for family and friends that don't live in the same states)!!  

I continued to have this nervous feeling in my new baby gut about my sister.  Wondering what was going on with her, how she was reacting, if she would call me, when i could call her for pregnancy advice, and so on. 

Finally, I got a text..."How is life?".  

I was so excited.  This is it, she's back! But after a couple small talk texts, she let me know in a few words that I could no longer be a part of her life.  

And that was it. 

John and I have both been blocked from her facebook (where I go to see my niece and nephew) and are not invited to skype.  I still sneak on to her blog almost daily to see if there are any new pics of the kids, while also trying to keep up with her life.  It's been a whirlwind of emotions for John, my family, and I. 

Anyway, the point of writing this blog is because I have been able to speak to a lot of friends and family about the situation, but have been too emotional to talk about how it actually makes me feel (except to John, lucky guy).  I have searched the web like crazy trying to find some information on anyone out there that may also be in this situation, but all I can find are views from people who are in my sister's shoes.  

So this is what it's like for a person to be rejected by a sibling with infertility:

First, I felt guilty.  

I wondered how it could be so easy for me to get pregnant when it is so difficult for her? I'm not even married yet, do I deserve to be as happy as someone who is already married and trying for their third?

Second, I felt sorry for her.  

I have finally accepted that it is okay to be elated for our future, even though she is upset. I haven't rubbed it in her face.  She is going through a sad and confusing time, but I can still be hopeful that she will come around.

Third, I began feeling angry.  

How can she be making me feel this way? This is supposed to be a special time for John and I, a time we will never get back again, a time she has already experienced! Can't she just be supportive for me the way I was for her all these years? She already has two, healthy, beautiful, smart babies that aren't even two years old yet!  Why does she need to rush into more? She's still in her 20s! Why can't she just be a big sister? Why can't she be happy with what she is already blessed with? Why isn't anyone in my family telling her how wrong this is? How upsetting it is for me? Why have we tip toed around her emotions all these years just to lead up to this point? Why do we repeatedly let her get away with this kind of behavior?

Then, I began thinking about the future, and it made me sad. 

My sister will miss my wedding, my baby shower, the birth of my baby, its first steps, first words....all those life changing events that people look forward to, she will be missing by choice. 

It devastates me. 

Then, I thought, what if she comes around? Am I just supposed to pretend that everything is okay? That I'm happy to have her back in OUR lives now? 

How will we explain to our baby that Aunt Ashley would probably really love her/him if she were more stable? 

Will my child not get to know its cousins because of her instability? 

What does she tell my niece and nephew when they ask why they don't get to see Aunt Whitney anymore? Do they know how much I love them and always have? Do they know that I miss them and wish I could see them every day? 

How will my niece and nephew feel when  they see how depressed it made their mommy to not have more children? Will they feel insecurities of not being good enough for her? 

I could really go on and on....but I think you get the picture.

All in all, I am deeply hurt and saddened. 

Saddened to read her blog everyday and see how she goes on with her life like I never existed, saddened that I can't celebrate a new life with her, saddened that it has created difficulty for my family, for John, and for myself.  But, I realized that I have done nothing wrong. This is her issue, and there is nothing that I can do to fix it. 

However, it is my right, just as it is for infertile women, to talk about this rollercoaster of emotions and how unfair it is to me too.  

We have a lot to look forward to, and everyday, through all the difficult times, John and I's life together keeps getting better and better.  We have had so much amazing support and love from family and great friends, it has been so rewarding and we appreciate it more than words can express.  

No matter what, we are so blessed to be exactly where we are right now.  

February 23rd is right around the corner, the date we find out what we are having. When I think about how excited I am for that day, the sadness melts away. 

John thinks it's a girl. 

I kind of hope he's right. :)

macaroni and cheese and cut up hot dogs.

when i was little, i existed almost entirely on macaroni and cheese and cut up hot dogs.

and by little i mean until i was 19.

my other main sources of nutrition were mini eggo waffles and fruit snacks.
i don't remember eating anything else.
i was convinced any other food was poison.
to the point that i gagged on pizza, wouldn't come to the dinner table when everyone else was having grilled cheese and tomato soup because it grossed me out, and picked fish sticks apart until i found a gray piece which would inevitably send me into tears and panic.  and we won't even talk about anything healthy.

i tried an orange for the first time when i was 21.

in other words, i was painfully picky.

but have no fear, moms of picky eaters, nowadays i eat (and like!) almost everything.
but macaroni and cheese and cut up hot dogs still hold a very dear place in my heart.

although i ate them often, we always had macaroni and cheese and cut up hot dogs on sunday afternoons after church.  it was a tradition. 
my favorite part about it was that my dad cooked the hot dogs. 
it was, and is still, the only thing i have ever seen him even attempt to cook. 
but damn, can he cook a hot dog. 
i'm sure it has something to do with frying them in butter in a cast iron skillet that made them so delicious.  (i think paula deen built an entire career out of those two things alone.)
but probably mostly just because it was my dad that made them. <3

sunday afternoons i still get the macaroni and cheese and cut up hot dogs itch.
we do it a little bit differently around here now... in other words, i feebly attempt to make it more healthy, (but still do that paula deen trick...)
"look over there!" *dumps five tablespoons of butter into a frying pan* "oh i thought i saw a bird."

it is my chicken noodle soup.  my fried chicken and mashed potatoes.  my comfort food.
(it's a little redneck.)
(i left out the part about always having it with kool-aid while dad watched "the race")
but that's okay.
now that i'm a nutritionally educated grown up, i'll fix something green for dinner.
fried pickles anyone?
just kidding :) 

the kitchen- during.

here are some "before" pictures of our kitchen:

these pictures are specifically edited in instagram to hide dust, dirt, and imperfections.
in other words, our kitchen isn't really that cute.

billy and i are trying to work on redoing the kitchen.  it desperately needs it.
we are still saving up for new floors... lowe's came out and measured and gave us a quote that made our knees buckle... so in the meantime we are trying to make improvements ourselves.

a few weekends ago mom and dad came up to help out with the little guy so billy and i could paint the cabinets.  it was a lot of hard work, and after we were finished, it didn't look all that much different form afar.  shucks.  but up close, huge improvements.

here is a picture of what a nervous breakdown looks like.  or, what my kitchen looked like while we were painting the cabinets and simultaneously installing a new dishwasher that we picked up on accident.

hear that noise?
it's me wheezing and scratching my hives.

in order to escape the madness, i took over the task of cleaning up our cabinet hardware.
our cabinets were installed in the 1950's. 
that gives them a lot of character. (nice way of saying they're strugglin'.)
the cabinet door hardware had about three layers of paint, rust, and i think skin deposits on them. yum!

billy gets major props for getting all of the hardware off!

i originally thought that everything was black, but then i got to scraping and discovered that it was originally metal.

must not think about the mess in the kitchen, must not think about the mess in the kitchen..

see all that stuff that looks like dirt? it's just lead based paint don't worry!

here is a before picture:

like my manicure?

and here is a picture after i got them cleaned up for painting:

 

it took a long time to do everything and my hands hurt.

but it was really fulfilling.  i don't think they make  homes nowadays with cupboard door handles that can last for as long as these have... over 60 years and counting.  they're american made, and really gorgeous once i got to know them.

there are lots of times when i curse our old house and the amount of work that it takes to do little things around here.  but it is always rewarding to see the beauty in our home after we peel back the layers of dirt and time.  

our kitchen is still a work in progress, but we did get the cupboards repainted and put back together!  here's a sneak peek:

stay tuned :)

11 months.

finn is eleven months old on friday.
it's the last "month" birthday, and then we're moving on to years.
wowza.

i was looking back at some old videos on my camera this morning, and although part of me feels like the time flew, the other part of me can't believe i had such a teeny tiny baby such a short while ago.  (i guess the lack of sleep along the way kind of erases your memory.)

now the tiny infant grunts and flails are replaced by "mamas" and "dadas", crawling and giggling, hooting and hollering. 
things are messier. 
busier. 
and we couldn't be happier.

we are so proud of this little boy.

finn wilde, you are sweet.

you are funny.

you are thoughtful.

you are silly.

you are joyful.

you are playful.

you've got a real sweet dimple.

and a little who nose.

and a big 'ole lumpy bald head.

you are good natured.

you are inquisitive.

you are precious.

you are adventurous.

you are loved.

thanks for our favorite 11 months ever, sweet baby.