No, I didn’t get taken away with Jesus in the rapture. Sorry to disappoint. From what I can tell no one else did either though so I’m still in good company here on earth.
So… what’s going on?
Welllll. A lot and nothing. At the same time. You know. Stuff. And things. The sad fact is I haven’t blogged worth a damn in a month so get ready to be absolutely OVERLOADED with images of my children. And me. And stuff. And things. Oh and food porn. YES. Food. Porn.
Off we go.
I tend to lose track of what I’ve told you between here and instagram, where I am a certified photo whore, and facebook, where I occasionally stop in to to post a video or photo or to complain about exhaustion or attempt to be witty for 30 seconds. Generally failing by the way. SO if you’re inclined, and have an iphone, follow me on IG… I’m jonie (the ‘E’ is for Edelman. That’s my last name. And it’s means NOBLEMAN in German. Which I am not. Though I am in fact German) or alternatively if you like, add me on facebook… Go click over there —-> (if you can’t see my little photo and mini bio with social media links then click up there on the header to go back to the homepage where those things will magically appear because I haven’t gotten this problem fixed with the page yet AND then go add me on facebook and IG. Annnd breath.)
And you can see awesome stuff like me posting a video of Ella dancing to MC Hammer’s Can’t Touch This. Yeah. That happened.
Annnnyway. The garden is planted:
It hasn’t been doing as well as I’d hoped because, well basically, we live on dirt that has no life left in it. It’s dead dirt if there is such a thing as dirt that is dead. I suspect given the location of our house that once some tree probably grew here. Walnut. Or Peach. Or cotton (not a tree just a bush). Or corn. Or any combination of all of those things. In any event, the soil is devoid of nutrient and hard like a rock. I meant to plant a nice crop of peas in the winter that I could till in to enrich the soil but alas, as is so often my
excuse reason these days, I was exhausted.
I wasn’t too exhausted to bake these:
It seems that no matter how exhausted I am I can find time to whip up a flippin cupcake. Oh how lucky for me.
IN OTHER news… The cherry tree never lets me down. See:
Oh well except for the fact the the birds pecked every GODFORSAKENMOTHERFLIPPIN cherry. And then, when they had what the could reach before the dog chased them off, the ants found the cherries and ate the rest. So in the end I ate 5 cherries. They were delicious though, those 5 little beauties.
Also my roses didn’t seem to mind the shit soil:
So yay. Only downside there is they only bloom once. WHHHHY? Why can’t they bloom all summer? David Austen MUST know that would absolutely MAKE MY LIFE.
Oh AND someone, praise the little baby Jesus in the manger, got TEETH. FINALLY. TWO OF THEM.
Soooo of course everyone is sleeping peacefully through the night now.
Yeah. No. Still not sleeping.
Cest la vie.
He turned 13. God. Help. Me. Oh and apparently he taught himself to play the trombone in 60 seconds. Though to be fair, he already knew how to play the trumpet. So there’s that. See:
He’s the ubercool kid in the Spy sunglasses. With the hair. Oh the hair. Also he’s taller than me now. And yesterday we were talking about divorce and families (as that is happening to a couple of families we know recently) and how it gets easier with time and he said (AND I QUOTE) “MOM, divorce is a weight I carry upon my shoulders. Constantly. It’s like an EMOTIONAL BACKPACK. It’s a BACKPACK of EMOTION. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
Uh yeah. I hear you dude. Annnnnd the Oscar goes to…..
He. Is. Awesome.
So anyway he wanted chocolate cake for his birthday. With Chocolate frosting. With chocolate on top. Was I exhausted? Did I bake it?
For his birthday we got him the coolest guitar EVAH. Cause oh yeah, he plays that too.
You may notice the strings are missing. Yes, it IS difficult to play a guitar with no strings, thank you for recognizing. They are missing BECAUSE 4 days after we bought him said guitar, it fell out of the back of my MONSTER Sequoia and broke in two pieces like a 90 year old hip (actually to be fair those usually break in more than two pieces. Poor fragile elderly ladies. God love em). SO yeah. Bummer. Like bad. We are fixing it now. Thank GOD my husband is a musical GENIUS. Phew.
Anyway that kid… He looks a little like me.
Just a little EXACTLY LIKE ME. Poor kid.
She thinks she looks just like her dad.
Uh huh. Sure.
Oh also I made some stuff:
That’s a necklace.
Is a pillowcase. Which will soon be available in my etsy shop. Where there is now absolutely not one SINGLE thing.
Yes. Hens. For eggs. I needed one more thing to do.
Oh and one last thing. This happened.
That, my friends, is Stef. You may know her as Stef from Hear Me Roar but I know her just as Stef, the girl who was one year behind me in school. And now, I’m so pleased to say (ahem some 20 + years later) I also know her as friend.
Until next month, or you know, the next time i bake something, thanks for coming along.
xo ~ j
as we know it?
Maybe you’ve seen the billboards. The rapture is apparently tomorrow. I mean the Rapture is tomorrow but it seems we’ve got until October until the actual end of the world. This would SEEM like good news for those of us who aren’t exactly *ahem* shall we say prepared for the apocalypse, allowing us 5 more months, but the bad news is the good people get to zoom right to heaven, do not pass go do not collect $200. See ya wouldn’t wanna be ya.
Well this simply cannot be. I was worried for a minute because Oprah’s show ended which might as well designate the beginning of the end of world. But I’ve decided this can’t be possible. And yes, I’ve complied a list of reasons:
1. I have nothing to wear. Or can you wear jeans for Jesus?
2. I don’t have enough strong booze in the house and I’m assuming the stores will probably sell out pretty quick. Also I think we’re almost out of ice cream.
3. Grey’s Anatomy is still on the air. That show has to end before Jesus comes back.
4. I’ve never been to Hawaii.
5. I’ve never been to Paris.
6. I’ve never made a really good loaf of sourdough bread.
7. I don’t have any cookies baked for Jesus when he gets here. Do you think he likes chocolate chips?
8. My husband and I still haven’t had a proper honeymoon. Or does our bedroom count?
9. Is the electricity going to go out? Because I’ve only got 3 candles and they’re all scented. So if I am forced to use them simultaneously my house is going to smell like appleblossomgreenteajasmine. That sounds bad.
10. Who’s going to feed the cat? Oh wait…. I’ve got until October. Phew.
Anyway I’m going to go ahead and stick with the Mayan calendar. It gives me 580 more days to get that booze. And some suitable khakis.
I’ve been a tornado of activity this morning. Up early and showered and kids all to school. Then to the super walmart with Ella for shopping. Then back home and everything unloaded and put away. But not until I cleaned both fridge and freezer. Then kitchen cleaned. House vacuumed. Garden watered. And now I sit.
Without further adieu I bring to you Things I Luuurve Thursday.
These are City Flats from Gap.
I think it’s Gap now. Peyton and I had a debate this morning about whether it’s Gap or The Gap or what. I still say The Gap and I always will cause I’m old school like that. Screw them changing their name anyway. What the heck. Who do they think they are The Guy Formerly Known as Prince (or is he Prince again?)?
Anyway, most of the things I wear are a mish mosh of clothes from target (cause hello CHEAP) or Old Navy (again with the cheap), occasionally THE (bold and italicized) Gap and F21 (even though I’m clearly WAAAAAY past the F21 age). J. Jill when I’m feeling old lady cool. And J. Crew when I’m feeling young hipster cool. And then there are The Shoes… I have a lot of shoes. A LOT.
These are The Shoes…
Also that is my closet (well, half of it).
Each of those boxes contains one pair of shoes (and more than a few contain two). Also there is a row you can’t see so a quick multiplication table reveals I have at least 35 pair of shoes. 36 if you count those flip flops. And 40 something if you factor in the doubles up boxes. That’s just in the closet. Also the 5 pair in the organizer by the door. And I’m only slighty ashamed to admit that that number was once more than double that. NOW before you accuse me of being a shoe hoe (which I totally am) let me say many of those shoes are several years old. It’s not like I buy a pair of shoes a week or anything (usually). Also I’m severely lacking in the boot department if anyone would like to make a recommendation.
I love The Shoes.
Let me tell you why I love The Shoes. Because The Shoes never betray you. When you have PMS. When you gain 20 pounds or lose 40 pounds (right). When the seasons change. The Shoes will always be there for you. Trusty and faithful. And the best part about The Shoes is you can put a pair of snazzy heels away for 6 months and then WOW it’s like CHRISTMAS when you get them out again. Hello lover.
So you can understand why I’d love these puppies. First of all… They. Are. Adorable. Also, quite comfy. ANNND… Incredibly functional. The mushroom color (though I also have pink and will soon buy black) really goes with almost ANYTHING. Black. Brow. Grey. Bring. It. On. These shoes can handle it. Also no laces. So quick off and on which is pretty vital considering I’m usually putting my shoes on with one hand while perching a baby on one hip and a purse on my shoulder and hollering at other children to get in the car and holding a bottle of water and a teething toy and trying to keep the baby from pulling my hair until I’m bald and and.
That was a long winded way of me saying you’d better go buy some of these. Like right now. OH ANNND when you go to buy them (cause you really should) enter this little code GAPGETNOW and get 30% off! Dudes forreals. That makes these shoes the best $27.97 (plus tax and S+H) you’ll ever spend. Swear. To. Maude. Oh AND if you happen to have a Gap credit card (or old navy or BR card) and you can wait until Saturday you can enter GAPCARD and get 40% off. No lie. I just gave you a super secret coupon code. That’s how I am. I love you.
Also: THE GAP doesn’t know who I am. At. All. They don’t know how I love these shoes. Though maybe I’ll write them and tell them how I LOVE THESE SHOES. Cause yeah. I do.
My friend Liz published THIS blog post this morning. Please read it. I’ll wait. See you in 10 minutes.
Back? Ok good.
I’m gonna be honest. That kinda gave me a headache. It’s a whole bunch of sad but true information.
And I couldn’t agree more with Liz. She hit the ol’ nail on the proverbial head with that one. Cause yeah you know what NO ONE IS PERFECT. No one. Nope, not you. You over there… NO. Not you either. You may be doing better than me on some things. I may be doing better that you on some things but NO ONE is perfect. Let go of that notion and free yourself from the prison that is your own expectation.
You. Are. Not. Perfect.
And what do I have to say in response to Liz?
I don’t use paper towels (or toilet paper, or tampons). I’m awesome?
I like white flour. A lot. (even though I have wheat to make bread. Have you ever had a whole wheat cookie? Yeah. No)
I use cloth diapers. Yay!
I buy doritos. Boo.
I breastfeed and attachment parent. Sweet.
I let Ella cry while I finished sewing a seam on a pillowcase. I suck?
I like high heels. Sexy.
I like ballet flats. Comfy.
I like Birkenstocks. Functional?
I make cake from scratch. Yum.
It’s still cake. Oops.
I like whole food. Yes.
I like cookies. And yes.
I buy almond butter. So yummy.
I buy Jif peanut butter. Yeah. Also yummy.
I make pie from scratch. It has apples in it. Apples are FRUIT. Fruit is good for you. Therefore pie is good for you.
It also has crisco in it. Oh. Never mind.
I drink water in reusable water bottles. Always. Saving the earth. One evian at a time.
I drink diet soda. In styrofoam. Or plastic. I’m probably going to have a stroke.
I don’t go to church and I probably don’t pray to your god. Also I don’t feel like I need saving. Thank you.
I still think spirituality is important. And I want you to worship however you want to. I’ll fight for that right for you. Forreals.
I am pro choice. Yes. I am.
I love babies. Yes. I do.
I’m liberal. Surprised?
If you’re aren’t liberal I (probably) still love you. No lie.
Now I’m going to go have some chocolate. You should too.
Yes you teething. I’m talking to you. You are an asshole.
lady who feels like hell because she hasn’t slept in a hundred thousand days.
OK seriously. SERIOUSLY. I feel bad for my little sweet baby girl because she hurts. I know she hurts. But FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I need some sleep. Like immediately. Like three weeks ago. Bad.
See we went from not sleeping well at home to not sleeping well in Arizona to being sick from going to Arizona to teething and thus not sleeping well at home again and here we are. One of us is sleep deprived and the other one isn’t.
Can you tell which is which?
No? Oh good. Then the faking it is working.The faking and the lip gloss. And the huge necklace detracting attention from my wrinkles and bags.
And to be frank I’m not even sure it’s teething that’s keeping her awake. I mean last night I put her to bed (after like a sad sad excuse for an afternoon nap) at 8 pm. And at 8:15. Up. Back down. Back up. Down. Up. Down. Up. I need an elevator on my stairs. Finally I gave up and put her in the bed with me. I think it was 10 pm. Cause we go to bed with the kids now. :-/ I could go to sleep at 7 but for the sake of sitting with my husband alone I don’t. I just fall asleep on the couch instead. I can’t imagine what he must think. Anyway to bed we went, with the baby, and my sweet husband said to me, “Are you going to be able to sleep with her attached to you (because yeah. That.)?” And I said, “Yeah. I could sleep through a tornado right now.” Furreals. And I don’t want to be petty but this whole thing is kinda interfering with, ahem, YOU KNOW. Adult time.
Anyway, I’m not sure it’s as much the teething as it is that she just wants to be attached to me. Like constantly. Maybe she is in pain or maybe she just wants her momma. Whatever it is, sleeping (or not sleeping) in one position with a human being on you waking up you every 15 minutes is taking it’s toll on my decrepit body. Or it’s making me decrepit. One of those.
I can’t recall being this tired in a long long long time. Maybe it’s because I’m old. Or MAYBE it’s because there is a baby on me ALL NIGHT LONG. And I love her. Good lord how I love this child. But man. MAN. Did I mention I was tired?
I keep reminding myself, “SELF this phase only lasts a short time in the grand scheme of things. And soon you’ll wish she was snuggled with you in your bed.” And it is and I know this because I have three other children and they are 15, almost 13 and 11 and none of them breastfeed all night anymore. I’m pretty sure. Though to be fair, I wouldn’t know if they were. Cause I’m that tired.
In the meantime I’m holding my baby close and holding out hope for the day I will sleep again. I think I will.