Peace Out, Homeslices.

I'll be India until the end of the month, so no blogging nuggets for you. Pray for my intestines. Thank you!

I Am A MacGyver-Quadropus.

Creative multi-tasking. This is not a concept born of the dot com era or from the minds of men in striped shirts who sit behind desks, trying to maximize profit because time = money.

No. Creative multi-tasking is an innate quality of the highly effective housewife and mom. Don't picture a woman mopping the floor and talking on the phone at the same time. Multi-tasking has come a long way since 1950. In fact, this post may or may not be written in the comfort of my bathroom. Despite scientist husband's horrifying lectures about the prevalence of fecal matter on ... pretty much everything, the bathroom remains at the top of my list of safe havens. This is solely because it's the only room in the house with a lock on the door.

Being a mom is a little like being a 20-something chaperone at a college kegger (hang in there, this is going somewhere): I spend a good chunk of time with a little person who has a compromised vocabulary and limited balance. He also drools and finds it funny to spit for no reason other than it feels good to do so. He repeats unintelligible phrases in the hopes that I'll understand and/or find it funny after the tenth time. Or, he makes things like this:

Chicken-head Barbie. 

Then there's the physical effect the party has on me. I've accidently touched poop a few times in my career and have woken up with strange bruises and scrapes of which I have no memory of because I was too busy to notice.

There is purple Magic Marker coloured in my armpit at this exact moment in time. I didn't put it there. Ten years ago, I might have second guessed that.

So, in the insanity of raising kids, you learn creative ways to use whatever limbs you have to get "normal" things done. I Bruce Lee'd (new verb, kids) the shopping cart out of the corral at Walmart yesterday. I can't give you the secret details, but carrying a 30lb person and an oversized purse while trying to dislodge a cart (with "much help" from the greeter) is no small feat. I may have ripped my pants, but I owned it. I totally MacGyver-Quadropused that. Minus the mullet.

Don't get me wrong. Everything you read about how rewarding it is to raise kids is absolutely true. If anything, I should thank them for helping me to grow those extra, freakish limbs and connecting neurons that would otherwise be wasting away in the bottoms of cheap bottles of Merlot. Plus, I get the satisfaction of knowing that I'm covertly shaping their little minds into becoming Springsteen fanatics. Win/win.

Let's Get This (Curtain) Party Started!

Oh, the things that excite me these days!

Life's been a crazy hectic mess lately as our next travel date quickly approaches, so most house-related projects have sort of been shelved for the moment. But I couldn't just ignore the yards of cute fabric sitting on a dining room chair, waiting to become curtain panels. I hunted so long for the perfect fabric, only to let it collect dust since its arrival. Humph.

I figured that I may as well start to measure, cut and pin before we take off and maybe even install the ceiling-mounted drapery rod. It will mean less work when I get back and maybe I will feel that I've at least accomplished something in the curtain department. But then, something miraculous happened: the curtains are now finished! How the heck did that happen?!

Let's see. This is dining room window before I got started:

I ended up purchasing 6 yards of Premier Prints 'Chipper' (in the storm/slub colour way):

And purchased a set of black drapery rod rings for $3 at Liquidation World (or LW, as they now want to be called). Because of that steal, I felt that I could pay full price for the ceiling-mounted hardware I love from Canadian Tire's Debbie Travis collection - which is really only $15 anyway.

Apparently, you need to drill two 1/8" holes into your ceiling for each bracket. It scared me. I used the same hardware for my daughter's room last summer, but forgot how big of a hole was required!

But it's necessary in order to accommodate the metal anchors used for ceiling-mounted brackets, so off I went and did that .... And ate a ton of falling drywall dust and chunks. Yum. I totally wore sunglasses to protect my eyes because I'm an amateur and don't have those fancy shmancy safety glasses.

Those bolts are going to keep things super secure overhead. 

When discussing sewing with my mom (she had agreed to help me sew - it's on the blog, Ma, so no backing out), we decided that a 1 and 1/2" seam allowance on the panels would be good.

It doesn't show in the picture, but the rough edge was later folded under and everything was pressed with an iron. The original plan was for my mom to show me how to sew, using her trusty 50+ year old Singer machine. But the truth is, Mom sewed everything. And I appreciated that so much because her sewing lesson confused the bejesus out of me. I ended up organizing her sewing box as payback. No worries.

Still wrinkled, but otherwise just right.

The view from the kitchen

Now, if only the new light fixture from Joss & Main would show up ...

Bunny Tails, A Cute Easter Treat

My mom recently put a Pinterest pin in action and I couldn't wait to post about it. When she showed me the treats she was going to give the kids for Easter, I thought they were so freakin' cute, but I had no clue that they were homemade! They look so amazing and neatly done - something I'd expect to see for sale at a gourmet sweets store.

I know, right? Mom downloaded the free printable topper templates from The Idea Room. The cute treats are simply marshmallows coated in a little honey and rolled in shredded coconut. Oh boy - sugar overload! Despite that, I can't wait to see the kids open their treats.

Happy Easter!

Kid-isms

Kids say funny things sometimes. Other times, it's funny to us, but not really to them. In fact, you just might be the crazy one who doesn't "get" their sense of humour. Yes, I know they made a couple of shows about this. But, my favourite conversations with kids are the head-scratchers. You know, the "wtf" moments that make you wonder how your actions or genes may have contributed to the making of these weird little people.

Here's a small sample of my niece's true colours. We'll call her "Emily" and she was talking with her mom (my admittedly weird, but lovable and hilarious older sister) ...

Emily:  "I want to go on Canada's Got Talent."
My sister: "Oh ya?  What's your talent?"
Emily:  "Probably dancing. With nunchucks."

Of course.