Kitchen counters. Before/after

Before: Boards were put down to create a work surface.







After: they were finished with a high sheen for a nice wet look. Turned out more "gray granite-y" and less "white with gray veins" then I had wanted. But they are beautiful, and who can argue with that. Who?



Quite the change. Right?

Do you see the dish dryer in the back? That is for baby bottles. Fake grass. Love it. We use it for everything except kid's stuff.

And the charming unfinished wall? It is screaming for some tile. Soon baby, soon.
We have a few projects on the list that rank a higher priority. (closets in the bedroom, perchance...or giant gaping hole in hallway...hum)

And today's post is brought to you by....




Elliot. (super excited to be able to rock some Princess Leia buns.) ( itty bitty little Leia buns)

Ugly lights have to go. Stat.

Dining room light was bad. It had to Go for a few reasons. It was broken, poorly installed, singed the ceiling. Oh so ugly.





Can you see in this terrible and unclear photo that some of the fake candle parts on this brassy masterpiece are tilted, cockeyed, broken and ugly?



If i turn off the light you can almost notice something else. Smoky black marks on the ceiling above each candle. That is safe, right?



Here is the new light (pic tis a week or so out of date)and a quick peek at how the main floor is progressing. Remember what it used to look like?

Here is a pic of move in week.





1) furniture is arranged and we are no longer in boxes. 2) living room wall is still horribly painted. Gag. 3) do you see my folding table/dining table? This has been replaced (happy birthday me). I had a vision of a big, thick, rustic farm table. Pics coming soon.

Let sleeping babies be

Henry's last day in an infant carseat.




Growing up a little more each day.

Preschool blues

First day of preschool for Elliot. We were a little nervous because she is just not a morning person.





I don't know. I think it went pretty well.

Kitchen update.

This is that kitchen about 2 weeks after the move.




Hi sad Henry.

The kitchen is coming along. Izaak framed in one of the doors into the kitchen. This was to create some wall space - in one small kitchen there were three doorways, a funny jut, and a window. No unbroken walls. Hard to plan the layout of a modern, updated kitchen.

Most of the cabinets were found Second Chance. A local reuse home store. Some other cabinets have to be custom made because of some odd dimensions. We canibalized supplies on hand and parts of another cabinet to do this. (did i mention this is on a wee little budget?) I am thankful that Izaak can do stuff like that. No sweat just throwing that together. Right honey?



Yes. I am cooking in this space.
Meals are being generated.



Still working on the kitchen. The next step is countertops, then wall tile. We have the opportunity to get cement countertops nearly at cost. It seems like a good way to go. Stylish but super tenant durable. Anyone have experience with these? Good idea, bad? Let me know what you think.

The real tragedy of today was not getting winded while going so fast on the bike (with kids in the back trailer) trying to get to the store to buy the thing on hold that i swore to Elliot she would have today...getting there 5 minutes before they closed...only to learn that they closed 10 minutes early (bummer moment for a 4 yr old).

Nor did the tragedy occur when my untied shoelace (hurry too much to stop and tie it) caught in the bike chain and my gracious dismount looked like a bike-kristen-pavement sandwich in front of no less than 6 other ladies and 2 sidewalk fixing gentlemen.







No. The real tragedy* occured when we got home and i started to get dressed to go out (finally) to an adult-centered dinner (finally).
I needed bandaids (triage, seriously) for my wounds. Bandaids options: My pick of star wars or toy story themed. My lovely summer dress and heals, a buzz lightyear elbow, and woody on my ankle. Not quite the vision of adultness i had been shooting for. Sad me.



*tragedy in the light hearted sense...clearly. Not meant comparitively to other pressing world matters.

Elliot's lemonade stand.

Elliot has been desperate to have a lemonade stand, ever since we stopped at one earlier this summer.

We obliged and facilitated. With 2 looming and dark caveats.

#1) she had to make and sell her own products with as little adult help as we could get away with. NO store package of cookies or carton of Newman's limeade.

#2) she had to work and hustle her booth. Solo. Mama would not be an employee of the stand.

Hard work. And reward. She was also told that she could decide how to spend the money. If she works to earn, she can decide how to spend. (easy to say because we thought she only make a few dollars to blow on candy and a juice box)

Game on, sister.



She made an easy sugar cookie recipe that I found for her. Mama directed and did oven duty. But little lulu has moves in the kitchen. Colored sugar was the best part.

She spent a week posing with her table and chair to get the feel of free enterprise.

"do I look like a real lemonade stand girl, mom?". A thousand times a day.

She also used cloth napkins to practise picking up cookies with touching with her fingers. Because that is a gross violation of safe food handling.




Oh. And sister hustled. She sang charming ditties. She flagged over cars and blocked in oncoming bikers and runners. She upsold and made package deals for bulk buyers.

She also gave her mean face to cars that raced by without pausing.

She worked in the sun for hours until a gallon of pink lemonade and 2 dozen cookies found new homes.

And the financial rewards? What pittance did she scrounge together for a trip to the candy store? Oh you wonder.

She made more than I made at my first job. Nearly $10 an hour. Candy store plans got scrubbed because there were some Star Wars action figures just calling to her. Luke now has all his buddies...and a Darth Vader to boot.

Yee Haw. Henry is 1.

Cupcakes for breakfast, served with a bib from Grandma. Day is off to a lovely start. Happy birthday, darling boy.



Nothing like a old western theme party to get the creative juices going. Saddles, lassos and chaps. Oh my!



So nice to have a handy hubby around. When I say tepee, he says how big. Perfect. Elliot got a chance to wear her dad's hand-me-down chaps. Henry wears baby Izaak's little ol'vest.
































Asking Izaak to take pictures results in a lot of him...with guests. That's just fine, honey. But none of the cute cake I made. Not a one.






























And way late into the night. The sun itself already asleep for hours. Another son has set for the night.

um.

I really blanked on a post title.  There is a space for one.  But sometimes a post doesn't need one.  Or, doesn't easily have one.  Or, (which is more true) I can't think of anything snappy enough.  Like Henry standing at window  sounds lame.  Even though that is totally what this post is about. 
Yep. 
So here is a good title: Here is Kristen, yet again, showing off her kids and attempting to make you wildly envious. 

I just was wishing that I could make that sound catchier. 

Without further ado.  My amazing son.




walk into bedroom to find the littlest man looking out the window.



This guy is always happy to see his mama

close up on the FATTEST BABY FOOT EVER.  seriously.  They barely make socks to fit those sausages...let alone shoes.

one-handed show off

close up of his cute face (and yummy elbow dimples)

Something exciting must be happening outside.

Hey. Henry.  Say hi to your mother for me.

Ballet continues to thrill us

Caption (from top left clockwise) Elliot and someone else, Elliot and other people, Elliot stretching, Elliot and some other girls.

Also, I learned (the hard way) today that Henry's hit myself on the with a maraca cry is almost identical to his finger stuck in the handle of a Tonka truck cry.  But both of these cries are different than his boxed myself into a corner and don't know how to turn around so I am totally frustrated cry. 

Silly baby boy. 

Lesson in opposites and the ever incredible Inchworm

The Inchworm goes

 



 

Up. Down.

Cutest little play romper, right? A shout out of thanks to my Aunt Pam. I can't believe that it fits him already.

Happy.  Sad. 

It is frustrating when you put in a lot of effort and don't hardly move at all.  You should have heard his sound effects.  The wind up purr, the growl, the howl of frustration. But he tries.  Oh boy, does he try. 

Hello mama.  *Muah*

 

Bye Bye baby. 

Can you picture me sadly waving as his little tush scoots past me?

 

My Girl.  My Boy. 

Do you see that stream of drool off Henry's chin?!?  That is what we are living with.  Crazy wet baby kisses. 



And that folks is your lesson in opposites for today.  Thank you for your rapt attention.  Please stay tuned for all of the other interesting stuff that you could learn here. 

Boise Over and Out

When an army crawling hunter spies a treasure for himself

I think Henry's internal monologue was saying something like:

Oh lookie papa's water bottle just. out. of. my. reach. No wait.  I think I can get it.  And triumph  Yum Yum Yum. 

Suddenly his vision scans to the right

whoosh.  what is this? Knitting basket.  just. out. of .my reach.  No wait.  I think I can get it.  And disaster.  

Hello Tooth.

Do you see it?  Hidden in the darkest dark and wettest wet of caverns.  There is a solitary tooth. 
A bit hard to see in photos because the reflection off of the drool obscures the view.  Oh.  And the tongue.  Serious that tongue is everywhere at the same time.  We have a very Freudian Oral stage happening in Boise.  (riveting, right?)
Close your eyes and think of a slug leaving a slime trail where ever it goes. Do you see it?  That's Henry.  Totally Henry. 
So, betwixt the slime and the tongue, I fought the good fight trying to get a decent photo of The Tooth.  The number of photo close ups of Henry's mouth that I took is a wee bit embarrassing.  I mean if someone were to steal this computer and scroll through the recent photos they would be aghast at my collection of pictures of the lower half of Henry's face.  Seriously.  I need to delete some of these.

Lens on her world

Elliot had some fun with mama's camera the other day.  She was able to capture the couch, the living room, the side of my face, her foot, the couch piled with bills I set out to pay, her guitar and tool box (see the camera strap hanging across the photo, so cute),  my pants (multitasking: nursing Henry, knitting) and a door. 

She was so proud of herself.  As well she should be.  Gorgeous shots, babe. 

In other news, Izaak and I are suffering miserably from The.Worst.Head.Cold.Ever.  The little ones are unscathed from it surprisingly.  But let me tell you.  Being home alone with 2 kids and T.W.H.C.E is ridiculously hard.  Ack.  (Pity party invites are in the mail). 

Elliot was throwing a fit and instead of swooping in to nip it in the bud - I was like yah you go for it, girl.  I hear what your saying, This sucks, yell it out.

I had a fit with her vicariously.  Because - I know I'm the adult here -but I've been wanting to throw a fit all day 'cause my nose and my ears are plugged.  I think I am slowing suffocating.  And a fit would be so refreshing. Maybe, a bad mom moment but my face hurts and this totally sucks. 



What wiggles and drools and is cuteness all over? 

Need a hint?

 

This little guy.  All of 5 months old already.  I don't believe it.  He is playing so happily with his toys....and then suddenly spies his mama taking pictures.

  

Flap flap flap.  The camera cannot keep up with his flapping and waving antics.  

 

 Look out mama, not paying any attention.  Henry grabs at the camera strap and pulls it down...going for a snack attack.