Carter and the Black Kid.

My kid hates all the baby gates.  Hates 'em.
Let's say Carter didn't have all these gates around the house.
Where does he think he's going to go?
He's always staring out the back door, or the front window, and you can see that he is contemplating his great escape.
Sometimes I wonder.  If I just opened all the gates, and the back door, where would he go?  Would he bravely set off into the world (and get hit by a car or eaten by a coyote, surely) or would he make it to the sidewalk and decide that he doesn't really want to go out there without mommy's guidance?
I would surely hope for the latter.
But how much do our babies really think they need us?  How much are they really aware of?  Are they even aware of how much they depend on us to survive?  Who do they even think we are, when they're still babies?  I guess they know we're important.  But why do they think we ended up together, in this house with all the gates?  What in the world are the babies thinking?

We were at the wal mart supercenter last night.  Carter normally doesn't pay much attention to other people, but bigger kids?  Oh, he loves big kids.  There was a black kid behind us in line, he was probably 6 or something.  Carter just looked at him and laughed and laughed and laughed.  What the hell was he thinking?  I don't think he'd ever seen a black kid before, so he was probably a little taken aback by that, surely.  But what else?  Was he all like 'dude!  How did you get out of that shopping cart?  Why are you letting them keep that hat on your head?  How did you unbuckle yourself?'
This black kid loved Carter too.  They just laughed at each other the entire 7 minutes that we stood in that check out line at wal mart.  Then, when they walked past us in the parking lot, Carter gave him a big smile and a wave.  He loved that black kid.
Apparently, when I saw a black guy for the first time, he was at our house and I ran under the kitchen table and hid from him for god knows how long.  But eventually I grew to love him very much.  I don't remember any of this.

On second thought, I am probably (or most definitely) over-estimating his abilities to think real, rational thoughts.  I've seen him play, after all.
When I pull this, the drawer opens.
When I push the drawer, it closes.
Open.
Close.
Open.
Close.
Open.
Close.
FUNNEST GAME EVER!!!

And then he discovered the dropping shit on the floor game.
Wow, this toy is cool and everything, but what will happen when I drop it?
Oh, mommy picks it up.
Drop.
Drop.
Drop again.
HAHAHAHAHA!  FUN!
Oh, sad face, mommy's not giving the toy back anymore...

And it's even more fun with food.
Mmmmm, timbits!
(throws timbit)
(mommy replaces timbit)
(throws again)
WHAT A FUN GAME!
.....
what, no more timbits?
I'll just start crying, then.

Total Physical Exhaustion.

I bought new shoes today.  And 2 new tops, one of which I've had my eye on for weeks and was lucky to snag at the Vintage boutique that I love.  That was today.  Carter came alone and we spent the afternoon together.  Strangers made him cry, the wind made his boogers crusty and his Tombly Boo fell in the mud.  But he had a really good time, and I'm glad we spent the day together!
Now, I have started a new job at a bar in Stoney Creek.  This was my second week there, and I am making peanuts.  No money at all.  It's pitiful.  But I love my boss and the people that come into the bar all the time and I get to wear whatever I want! (I am a really big fan of not having to wear what employers tell me to wear.  Big fan.)  Anyway.  Yesterday I worked for 13 hours straight and got dicked around by drunken assholes who didn't want to pay me, and I had an anxiety attack in front of my boss, her boyfriend, and the seedy clientele who, very shortly after, left abruptly and without tipping me.  Yesterday was a horrible, horrible day.  So I know I haven't been around much the last little while, but I need to relax right now.  Just for a while.  And then I will be back.

Wellies!!!

I bought my Wellingtons a couple of years ago and have just been waiting for them to be cool.  And they are!  Especially Hunter wellies.  So if you still haven't gotten yourself a pair of rain boots, now is the time - they are still trendy and you can buy them almost anywhere.  Factory Shoe outlets have a bunch of them for a really good price.  And if you still don't think that rain boots can be awesome, just look at how Kate Moss rocks the wellies:

Winter Boots.

shopping for winter boots right before Christmas is a nightmare.
Not only do you just not want to spend that money on an ugly pair of shoes but it's a purchase that takes hours.  And a million different places.
I don't spend a crap ton of money on shoes unless I genuinely love wearing them.
And when was the last time you saw a nice pair of winter boots?  They always have that ugly rubber toe.  Always.
So after about 2 hours at Mapleview last night, we headed over to Factory Shoe (why pay full price for shoes?) and I bought my first pair of Tims.

They're just like this, but they are in that classic Timberland yellowy orange colour.  They are gangsta, and I can't wait to rock them in the snow later today.

Bras.

My bras get deeee-stroyed in the washing machine and the dryer.  I know it.  Their lives are cut short by months and months because I am too lazy to hand wash my delicates like any intelligent person would.
Maybe it's because I believe in a world where hand washing doesn't exist.  It's as archaic as the horse-drawn carriage.  I mean, really, we can send robots to mars to bring back dirt but we still have to hand wash our bras?  
Women need to start putting their feet down.  Bras are expensive and I don't want to have to buy them all the time!  And I refuse to buy the cheap ones because the wire always pops out and pokes you under the armpit constantly.  I swear to you - no joke - I have a scar from a bra that did that to me.  
I always have good intentions.  I will hand wash for the first couple of weeks.  But then... I don't want to do it.  I hate it.  It's stupid and I don't have the time.  And it's stupid.  Why should I hand wash my bras?
We need to insist on more durable under-things.  Maybe replace those stupid clips with a button and a hole.  That would work just fine for me.  That way the clippy things don't bend or hurt... and you can always sew a button back on.  And wireless bras make my boobs jiggle like crazy.  They aren't supportive.  Maybe we could figure something else out?  Why can't we improve the bra?  Why?
If I were decent with a needle and thread or sewing machine I would make it my personal mission to re-invent the brassiere.  But as it is, I'm stuck with the fucking things and tonight Mike and I are going to the mall to buy more.  


And I will just have to suck it up and hand wash them.  

mum jams: live high - jason mraz

the hunt for beautiful

I'm back in my love affair with my tumblr once again. I neglected it for months. I don't know why. But I am back and I am dedicating it solely to beautiful pictures that inspire me. And beautiful words.

I recently decided that I would begin a hunt for beauty in the every day. In colours, books, a mess. I am on high alert now. I smell my books and crack the spine and it feels amazing. I dig through my huge pile of make up and feel like Marie Antoinette. I eat two bite brownies and try to remember to request them as my last meal if I am ever on death row. Strawberries. Big chunky cocktail rings. Carter's pacifiers, in all colours, all over the kitchen counter.

I used to be like this. When I was feeling my most artistic and painting every day, painting lovely things like little girls in the rain. I would drink wine in the morning with poetry anthologies all over my bed, highlighting the most profound prose.

This is why women shop all the time. They need to turn the joy of mall lighting, the smell of starbucks and the make up displays at Sephora into something tangible. It does not work, though. Because outside of that magical shop with it's magical colours and displays, a shirt is just a shirt, shoes get worn and dirty, jeans don't fit as well after you wash them, you feel like you need to start over again.

This is why I am hunting for beauty. This is why I am hooked on Tumblr once more. I want to keep a collection of beautiful things that will inspire me when I need it. Whenever I find the time to myself to paint again, I have this anthology of loveliness to draw from. I highly recommend finding beauty in ordinary places.

A Moleskine notebook. The smell of cotton scented candles. The feeling of the pages in Vogue magazine. The sound of your own deep breaths. Baby oil on your elbows. A dress hanging on the back of the door. There is beauty in everything, and there is inspiration all over. Every nerve ending in my body is feeling it. When you let it in, it kicks shopping's fucking ass.

mum jams: I'll be Seeing you - Michael Buble