Family, the Prickly Pear

My spirit animal? Before coffee, perhaps.

Writing hasn't been a priority.
Family has.
Working out has. (Hahahahano. Really.)
If you miss me, mosey on over to instagram. That's where I am. With the phone in my pocket, it's just so handy. Who wants to lug around a big 11-inch laptop. Ugh, the inconvenience. You feel me, right?
So, instagram. Move yo' bootie.
[Not "yo' booty". If you have any of that, please give it back. Don't steal. Except for free samples at Costco. Because, you know, that's not stealing. But don't pull up a chair to have lunch. Apparently, there's a line that can be crossed. I've heard.]

The peace I feel: From scented lotion wafting into my nostrils not unlike smoke did from a cigarette 15 years ago. (Kids, don't smoke. It's unhealthy and it stinks. I quit.)

These chairs: unrelated to this post. But I'm a sucker for a good photo with a post.

From camomile tea which the Marriott With Two Letters In Front provided. Was it LW? And what does that or something else mean? Am I just stubborn enough not to get up and confirm what those letters are? Yes. But tea I shall get.
From quiet kids and a reading lamp and old newspaper and a shower which isn't mine to clean. The latter one of the chief perks a hotel offers. Chief Perk, have you met him? Very nice man.

Mom en Route, Kids en Suite

In the middle of nowhere/ our fertile valley, waiting for the hubs to to be done with work so he can pop his behind into my ride and we can, kids and all, roll into LA.
I might be getting ahead of time a bit here, since this is my view at the moment:

Not that there aren't trees in LA.

And this is what the peace sign sees:

Stinkeye? No. Introvert, headed to social event.

Hashtag: Coffee, Hashtag: Champagneproblem

Coffee first thing! Makes for a good morning by default. Today, yes.

Coffee in cup, now broken. - 2 x 2" - $79

Other days, not so much. Read how I expound this #firstworldproblem on Ravishly.

Rust Removal in the Living Room

 Of course, a DIY section! From me. The world could really benefit from that. Android autocorrect changed DIYs to DIES, but I'm not easily deterred and have always found the definition of auspices to be peculiar, to say it politely.

This is a nice chair. It only cost me $3. It is too rickety to sit on.

(Unless you were born in 1899 and taught proper lady behavior.)

 

The latest DIY I stumbled into (for those I plan and research arduously rarely come to fruition) is three pairs of office chairs, to be turned into dining chairs. Three pairs, not 5 + 1 or 6, but let's get back to that later.

Those chairs, great lines. Feast your eyes.

Depending on where you come from, you can see tired and faded opportunities to plant your hiney (Milton's underground office; "Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta." Anyone?) or classic Italian design (si, si, signorina) ca. 1980s, and that only vaguely reminiscent of the Griswolds' neighbors decor in Christmas Vacation.

But I digress. A DIY section because, as I have initially bashfully come to find, I do know a few things about a few things. I just don't force it on people. But they would be well served to listen to me because sometimes I just have some good ideas. So you see, I have come full circle since I stood in a Tuesday Morning ca. 2006 and saw a pillow that read, 

"Mirror, mirror on the wall
I became my mother after all."

No, I kid. Of course the pillow couldn't read.

All right. So I went to pick up those chairs after some back-and-forth between me and myself. I'm a terrible haggler, so I got the six chairs for $50, also known as the asking price.

I zipped to Jo-Ann right after to get some fabric to relieve the chairs of their faded getup. (By "I zipped" I mean: my gracious brother drove while I tried to keep kids quiet and ascertain my geographical prowess over the navigation system he insisted on following.)

Fabric picked spontaneously, quickly. (Although I hear that is subjective, so ask my brother.) I've been obsessing over Justina Blakeney's genius recently, so my color choices were inspired byThe Jungalow.

Back at the ranch, I took off the seat and back rest with easy-peasy screws. And now, if you will, feast your eyes on this here transformation --> removing rust from chrome.

Turns out aluminum foil and water do magic. 

(Also, it helps if you're sitting on a tree stump.)

Of course you can do the rust removal inside, too, but I'd recommend a towel underneath and a monochromatic setup overall:

Those lines.

I folded the fabric all around, weakly stapling it in strategic and alter invisible locations with my Swingline  (hi again, Milton). Because: kids asleep, staple gun loud and in the garage. Nighttime. TV on. And you don't want to ever, ever jeopardize your enjoyment of binge - watching by working with the appropriate tools. That is, if they're too loud.

Screwed the seat and back on again, et voilà.

After and Before

Now we resolve the three pairs of chairs mystery: I bought three different fabrics. And when can you see the other two, you may ask? When they're done. Tonight, you may ask? That, my friends, depends entirely on the consumption of coffee after 7 p.m.

* Which, update from the next morning, was none. Instead, I fell asleep with kids at 8 p.m.

Meet Gerber, my Assistant.

Folks!

If you'd like to test just how far you can stretch that brain of yours while keeping a pleasant and patient disposition, and if you're lucky enough that the stars line up to provide you that opportunity: take your baby to work with you.
Mosey over to Romper to read how that worked out for me.

THE IMPOSSIBLE STANDARDS - Not Your Favorite Jazz Band

Let me find the funny side here, for therapeutic purposes.
Turns out the frustration I've encountered more frequently since I had kids, well, that frustration is all my fault. Because I set impossible standards for myself. So without further adieu, here those are, numbered in hopes that I'll get a dollar for each and skip ahead on the path to filthy rich.

1. CLICHES. I said, 'without further adieu' up there. Purposely, so I'd have a nice segue. But cliches are to be avoided at all times. I studied language, for Christ's sake.

Chili, homemade. Wholewheat crackers. Standard No. 2.

2. NUTRITIONAL standards: for the kids and me. (Due to repeatedly recalcitrant reactions, the husband has been taken off that list, I'm afraid.)
3. HEALTH. Eat well, so you'll live forever. And don't get sick in the process. A flu? That's unfortunate. You'll get even less done!
4. While you bring the kids to bed, meditate (Inner peace! BE PEACEFUL!). You shouldn't be on your phone. Although it's made you much more patient. But it's really fake patience, isn't it?
5. Be more PATIENT. Now, you are fairly patient. But there is always room for more.
6. PLAY with the kids more, as in: more actively than, "I'll have coffee and read TIME magazine in your room while you play."
7. READ only stuff that will improve your life. Gardening, parenting books and magazines are permissible. Current events, because it's good to:
8. KEEP UP the mind as you did in those college days. What, no time to read newspapers? That's no excuse.
9. Don't watch TV ever when the kids are awake.
10. The older kid can watch max 2 hours per day, of selected shows, but preferably not at all. If he watches, you MUST use that time for things you couldn't otherwise do, i.e. bookkeeping (ACCELERATED PRODUCTIVITY).
11. If you must watch TV, iron or fold laundry while you do it. At least knit or crochet, for we all know that idle hands are the devil's workshop. ( --> CLICHES, --> ACCELERATED PRODUCTIVITY)

A rare evening where all the toys are picked up. In this room.
Standard No. 12.

12. Where would all those knit blankets even go? Doesn't matter, at least you didn't waste your time relaxing. What, the kids will use those blanket in play, so why even bother? Because here's another standard for you: have the HOUSE LOOK NICE at least 80% of the time. (Reality: 10-20% of the time.) (And in case this was in question: "nice" means "magazine-ready," down to the vase with disproportionately large, cut greenery which will start dropping leaves the first day. And pick those up!)
13. GARDEN. No one should be paid to take care of your garden. The husband mows and trims the trees, you do everything else. What, you have no time to water, plant and keep order on half an acre? Well, I don't give a shit.
14. Grow your own VEGETABLES. You're trying to save money for retirement and aforementioned rich-filth status, so you buy pesticide instead of organic. Consequently, you should at least grow your own organic vegetables. All right, I'll give you a break on the asparagus because it takes three years from seed. But what, you didn't even start it this year? That'll add another year!
15. Have the kids in bed like clockwork (--> CLICHES) every night and for nap. Sure, you like to be off early, but that's only part of the reason. If they go to bed late, they should make up for it in naptime the next day. Then you can make up for the time missed getting stuff done last night.
16. Speaking of saving money, you must not ever incur a late fee or pay interest. And you must save for retirement. And avoid frivolous expenses. L'Oréal LUMI because you read a good review, are you shittin' me? Bring that back. $12.
17. If you could spend no more than $100 on CLOTHES for yourself per year, that would be great. Your feet don't grow anymore and you're not of a nomadic tribe, so shoe - wise you really should be all set until death.
18. Death. Life insurance. I can't believe you guys still don't have life insurance, you've GOT to get on that!
19. Speaking of organization, you should photo and upload all important DOCUMENTS sometime.
20. Speaking of, how's that scrapbooking of the family vacations going? And the yearly PHOTObooks? You know, they will be yearly once you start the first and then catch up the last four years.
21. The baby is already asleep on your arm right now, why are you still sitting in the dark? Writing a blog post? Need I remind you of the kitchen, the laundry room, the toys that surely need to be picked up somewhere?

Thank you, that'll be $21.
(Now invest that wisely. Because you're also taking care of your retirement fund.)

Let's look at what I let slip, because it's too low on the priority list:

- organizing photos. I'm making memories. Forgetting memories, sure. But also trying not to heap on more here.
- dusting and mopping. Spot-cleaning, sure. But I can only recommend a) looking to the heavens (so you don't see those spots) and b) aggregate flooring (because it is very forgiving, visually)
- exercising. I carry kids, groceries, pick up toys, clean occasionally. I'm good. You know what I also am? Not the very first to go in a famine.