yesterday was penelope's birthday. while we didn't do much specifically for it (i was packing all day, plus her party will be this weekend), we did get a chance to do a few little things. she blew out three candles at breakfast ('when i am three, i blow out three candles. one candle, two candles, and then three candles. like that.'). then, after she pooped in the toilet rather than in her diaper (it's still a work in progress), she got three chocolate chips instead of the regular two. after lunch we ate ice cream with yet another candle in it.
i spent little chunks of the day reflecting on what we've been through and who she is. she is a spitfire. she knows what she wants and she's impossible to convince otherwise. she knows how (and likes) to push your buttons on purpose. she is a total clown and inherently knows what kind of stuff will get a laugh. she is in a stage where she loves to pretend to be a baby. she prefers to color/draw with pens rather than crayons. she hates getting dirty. she loves to read. she speaks jibberish on purpose.
we've been through a lot together - we dealt with my postpartum depression after her birth, which was really hard for both of us, obviously in different ways. there was that one time she was almost strangulated in her crib overnight. but those experiences have really led to the unique relationship i have with her, and i'm so grateful god used those things to help me see her and and know her and appreciate her in ways i don't know that i would otherwise.
one of the more surprising parts about becoming a mom is that i find that their birthdays are less about 'them' than i would have assumed - every birthday that rolls around has me reflecting on their birth stories and their uniquenesses and my experience being their mom. i find i have more to celebrate than just 'another year down,' as it feels when i'm celebrating my own birthdays. i honestly enjoy their birthdays more than my own for that reason. anyone else feel this way about their kids' birthdays?
the tale of the hard-to-get porch swing.
girlfriend had her heart set on getting into the porch swing. the porch swing was all, nuh uh. van voorsts are nothing if not pigheaded persistent.
and then she gave up. porch swing wins.
and then she gave up. porch swing wins.
weekly 'what's up'
top o' the marnin' to ya.
it's friday, and you know what that means: everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend. (tomorrow is saturday and sunday comes afterwaaaaaard; i don't want this weekend to eeeeeeeennnnndd.) also, it means i'm updating you on our week.
likelihood is that, as you read this, i am out garage sale-ing. my first outing of the year! oh my, how i yearned for this day through the long, dreary, bargainless winter. and it's here and i'm thrilled!
okay, but let's back up: on tuesday, some friends offered to take the kids so i could go grocery shopping, and when i went to deposit them, my friends gave me gift cards to panera and starbucks and told me to take time for lunch while i was at it!! are. you. kidding. me?! so i skipped merrily and hands-free-ly along on my errands, then soaked in the pleasure of lunch by myself. no feeding anyone but me. no breaking up fights. no picking up food/silverware/cups off the floor fifteen bajilliondy times throughout the course of the meal. just me and my food and a(n uninterrupted!) call to my mom while i people-watched. that's how i do.
for the life of me, i can't remember what we did on wednesday. i'm skeptical that there even was a wednesday this week, now that i think about it.
oh right, now i remember. our furnace died overnight on tuesday, so we spent wednesday waiting for the furnace repair guy. oh yeah. and then we shelled out seven hundred bucks to fix our furnace, and scheduled an appointment for the repair guy to come back so he can install some other (yet-to-be-paid-for) part that he didn't have on hand.
we also spent some time baking cookies as a way to warm up the kitchen.
thursday was uneventful, other than i ate a bunch of cookies.
womanly arts update: i'm currently not wearing any pants (at least as i write this - if i'm garage sale-ing at this point, i'm most likely wearing pants of some kind) and i'm wrapped up in a tacky minnie mouse fleece blanket and my hair is all wonky and i'm not wearing makeup and my nails are bitten to the quick and unpainted. also i'm eating raw cookie dough, which is girlish but also PMS-y, so it's probably not a great indicator of any significant positive feminine strides. i'm failing miserably at this challenge. i should have named it the 'androgenous hobo-ly arts challenge.' then i could have conquered the challenge, and made myself some kind of androgenous prize ribbon (probs made out of flannel or untanned cowhide) to wear, which would boost my self esteem just enough to overcome the shame and guilt at being the winner of such a challenge and wearing such a ribbon.
pregnancy update: oh, did i fail to mention that they moved my due date back two weeks? i'm all, i was there. based on experiential knowledge and some crude math, i'm pretty sure i can tell you when i'm due.' but they were all, 'the ultrasound says blarblarblar'. so the ultrasound wins and i'm now officially due august 31. which throws a wrench in the whole photo taking project: do you take another 22-week photo, so then you have two, one of which has you looking bigger than in the first 23-week photo but not as big as in the second 23-week photo? so confusing. or do you just plan on taking photos through like week 45 or whatever? (i also tend to go past due.) good gravy, that's depressing.
we decided to go with the latter option and just keep plugging away in order. here's this week's misleadingly-but-chronologically-numbered picture:
whew. one more week of life down. what was up with you?
it's friday, and you know what that means: everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend. (tomorrow is saturday and sunday comes afterwaaaaaard; i don't want this weekend to eeeeeeeennnnndd.) also, it means i'm updating you on our week.
likelihood is that, as you read this, i am out garage sale-ing. my first outing of the year! oh my, how i yearned for this day through the long, dreary, bargainless winter. and it's here and i'm thrilled!
okay, but let's back up: on tuesday, some friends offered to take the kids so i could go grocery shopping, and when i went to deposit them, my friends gave me gift cards to panera and starbucks and told me to take time for lunch while i was at it!! are. you. kidding. me?! so i skipped merrily and hands-free-ly along on my errands, then soaked in the pleasure of lunch by myself. no feeding anyone but me. no breaking up fights. no picking up food/silverware/cups off the floor fifteen bajilliondy times throughout the course of the meal. just me and my food and a(n uninterrupted!) call to my mom while i people-watched. that's how i do.
for the life of me, i can't remember what we did on wednesday. i'm skeptical that there even was a wednesday this week, now that i think about it.
oh right, now i remember. our furnace died overnight on tuesday, so we spent wednesday waiting for the furnace repair guy. oh yeah. and then we shelled out seven hundred bucks to fix our furnace, and scheduled an appointment for the repair guy to come back so he can install some other (yet-to-be-paid-for) part that he didn't have on hand.
we also spent some time baking cookies as a way to warm up the kitchen.
thursday was uneventful, other than i ate a bunch of cookies.
womanly arts update: i'm currently not wearing any pants (at least as i write this - if i'm garage sale-ing at this point, i'm most likely wearing pants of some kind) and i'm wrapped up in a tacky minnie mouse fleece blanket and my hair is all wonky and i'm not wearing makeup and my nails are bitten to the quick and unpainted. also i'm eating raw cookie dough, which is girlish but also PMS-y, so it's probably not a great indicator of any significant positive feminine strides. i'm failing miserably at this challenge. i should have named it the 'androgenous hobo-ly arts challenge.' then i could have conquered the challenge, and made myself some kind of androgenous prize ribbon (probs made out of flannel or untanned cowhide) to wear, which would boost my self esteem just enough to overcome the shame and guilt at being the winner of such a challenge and wearing such a ribbon.
pregnancy update: oh, did i fail to mention that they moved my due date back two weeks? i'm all, i was there. based on experiential knowledge and some crude math, i'm pretty sure i can tell you when i'm due.' but they were all, 'the ultrasound says blarblarblar'. so the ultrasound wins and i'm now officially due august 31. which throws a wrench in the whole photo taking project: do you take another 22-week photo, so then you have two, one of which has you looking bigger than in the first 23-week photo but not as big as in the second 23-week photo? so confusing. or do you just plan on taking photos through like week 45 or whatever? (i also tend to go past due.) good gravy, that's depressing.
we decided to go with the latter option and just keep plugging away in order. here's this week's misleadingly-but-chronologically-numbered picture:
whew. one more week of life down. what was up with you?
how mumford & sons has restored some of my hope in humanity.
errrrrbdy and their mom likes mumford & sons, am i right? i admit i'm no different; i mean, it makes sense, considering i'm a sucker for most things banjo and plus, they're mumford and who doesn't like mumford?! and i'm not even going to lie to you and say something like, 'i loved mumford before they were cool' or whatever. i didn't. before they were cool, i had never heard of them, and then i had still never heard their music until well after they had become popular. i was pretty late jumping on this bandwagon, but once i did, i jumped on it all willy-nilly and without care.
(which leads me to a tangent: don't be a 'i liked _____ before it was popular' person. that guy is an ass. who the crap cares when you started liking it? is this supposed to make me think more highly of you than if you had started liking it six months later than you did? and the even ass-ier guy is the one who stops liking whatever it is as soon as he thinks it's becoming too popular, or looks down on people for only liking that thing 'because everyone else does.' that guy is the walking definition of 'stinky turd.')
anyway. i'm, in fact, encouraged by the very fact that EVERYONE loves mumford. and here's why:
1. it gives me hope that people can still recognize quality. mumford is legit. there are plenty of one-trick ponies out there, cranking out the electronic reruns of songs we've already heard just because that makes for big money and fast fame. or the music is half-decent, but the lyrics are insipid. i mean, in.sip.id. don't get me wrong, i really do love Train as much as the next guy, but they are a prime example of the fact that you can be a band of total lyrical retards and still be insanely popular. even people in comas 'get' Train songs. or take ke$ha. if you ever hear a mumford song about wanting to see some guy's dirty briefs, you'd probably assume that it has some deep and philosophical meaning about the afterlife that you can only pretend to get. ke$ha, on the other hand? you know she's just singing about seeing some guy's dirty briefs. the only thing you may not understand is just how dirty those briefs might be.
2. it gives me hope that people can still recognize talent. katy perry has a cat named Kitty Purry, which in my book should be the foundational principle upon which people respect her. and rightly so: that is some funny stuff, people. but beyond that, there's really no explicable reason that she's famous, other than that pop-radio enthusiasts are idiots. except for when they, out of nowhere, band together and scream, "MORE MUMFORD & SONS." unexpected, really. but a welcome change of pace.
3. they are not famous because they writhe. and that gives me hope that there may someday be less writhing in this world, generally speaking. we little people like to mimic the famous. at least if we're mimicking the guys in mumford & sons, we'll probably just stand there like normal people most of the time, and maybe make a few weird faces when we're getting really intense. i can live with that.
4. they sing (realistically) about death. when we're listening to full albums in the car, atticus likes to play the game, 'he's singing about dying again!' they're not into this whole YOLO culture that acts like dying is for someday and acting like drunk, horny primates is for now.
5. BANJO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ERRRRBDY LOVES BANJO AGAIN! it was a sad day when bob dylan plugged in that electric guitar way back when. i blame him for the individual jackson careers. and jock jams. but i'm feeling that we may be coming full circle, and i'm hoping that maybe the fiddle? steel guitar? mandolin? are soon to follow. in a not-toby-keith kind of way.
so, yes. to sum up, i love this band, not only because they're talented, but because their immense popularity makes me feel like we are not all as stupid about music as i would have assumed.
but seriously, though, on a side note: if i hear 'i will wait for you' one more time on the radio, i WILL light something on fire.
(which leads me to a tangent: don't be a 'i liked _____ before it was popular' person. that guy is an ass. who the crap cares when you started liking it? is this supposed to make me think more highly of you than if you had started liking it six months later than you did? and the even ass-ier guy is the one who stops liking whatever it is as soon as he thinks it's becoming too popular, or looks down on people for only liking that thing 'because everyone else does.' that guy is the walking definition of 'stinky turd.')
anyway. i'm, in fact, encouraged by the very fact that EVERYONE loves mumford. and here's why:
1. it gives me hope that people can still recognize quality. mumford is legit. there are plenty of one-trick ponies out there, cranking out the electronic reruns of songs we've already heard just because that makes for big money and fast fame. or the music is half-decent, but the lyrics are insipid. i mean, in.sip.id. don't get me wrong, i really do love Train as much as the next guy, but they are a prime example of the fact that you can be a band of total lyrical retards and still be insanely popular. even people in comas 'get' Train songs. or take ke$ha. if you ever hear a mumford song about wanting to see some guy's dirty briefs, you'd probably assume that it has some deep and philosophical meaning about the afterlife that you can only pretend to get. ke$ha, on the other hand? you know she's just singing about seeing some guy's dirty briefs. the only thing you may not understand is just how dirty those briefs might be.
2. it gives me hope that people can still recognize talent. katy perry has a cat named Kitty Purry, which in my book should be the foundational principle upon which people respect her. and rightly so: that is some funny stuff, people. but beyond that, there's really no explicable reason that she's famous, other than that pop-radio enthusiasts are idiots. except for when they, out of nowhere, band together and scream, "MORE MUMFORD & SONS." unexpected, really. but a welcome change of pace.
3. they are not famous because they writhe. and that gives me hope that there may someday be less writhing in this world, generally speaking. we little people like to mimic the famous. at least if we're mimicking the guys in mumford & sons, we'll probably just stand there like normal people most of the time, and maybe make a few weird faces when we're getting really intense. i can live with that.
4. they sing (realistically) about death. when we're listening to full albums in the car, atticus likes to play the game, 'he's singing about dying again!' they're not into this whole YOLO culture that acts like dying is for someday and acting like drunk, horny primates is for now.
5. BANJO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ERRRRBDY LOVES BANJO AGAIN! it was a sad day when bob dylan plugged in that electric guitar way back when. i blame him for the individual jackson careers. and jock jams. but i'm feeling that we may be coming full circle, and i'm hoping that maybe the fiddle? steel guitar? mandolin? are soon to follow. in a not-toby-keith kind of way.
so, yes. to sum up, i love this band, not only because they're talented, but because their immense popularity makes me feel like we are not all as stupid about music as i would have assumed.
but seriously, though, on a side note: if i hear 'i will wait for you' one more time on the radio, i WILL light something on fire.
we're having a...
on friday, i had an appointment scheduled with my new midwife. it was the first time we'd hear the heartbeat, so todd got a little time off work and we took the kids so we could all be there to hear the crazy swoosh-swoosh-swoosh. we had no idea that the midwife would be all, 'wanna do your ultrasound, like, rightnow?'
not only did we all get to be there for it, but they also did those crazy 4-D ultrasounds, so we got to see the baby's face, not just the holes in her skull that form the face. (lord love the 2-D ultrasounds, but there are some freaky images that show up.)
so without further ado, meet the newest baby GIRL van voorst, affectionately known to the existing v.v. kids as amelia bedelia.
the kids are still mourning the loss of what could have been a brother. penelope keeps saying she wants five kids now, so she can have a brother. it's hard to get her to see that she already has two. but whatever. we'll cross that bridge when we get there, sisterfriend.
as for me, i couldn't be more thrilled that we're having another girl! so excited for penelope to have a sister (and to get to pull out all those darling pink baby clothes again)!
not only did we all get to be there for it, but they also did those crazy 4-D ultrasounds, so we got to see the baby's face, not just the holes in her skull that form the face. (lord love the 2-D ultrasounds, but there are some freaky images that show up.)
so without further ado, meet the newest baby GIRL van voorst, affectionately known to the existing v.v. kids as amelia bedelia.
the kids are still mourning the loss of what could have been a brother. penelope keeps saying she wants five kids now, so she can have a brother. it's hard to get her to see that she already has two. but whatever. we'll cross that bridge when we get there, sisterfriend.
as for me, i couldn't be more thrilled that we're having another girl! so excited for penelope to have a sister (and to get to pull out all those darling pink baby clothes again)!
just curious.
it's not a surprise to anyone that i'm a weirdo. but get this: when i see or hear something really pretty, my mouth waters. like, not just figuratively. i saw this mint-colored barn the other day and my whole mouth was suddenly filled with saliva. i clearly didn't want to eat the barn. but something in my brain is like, "POSITIVE SENSORY INPUT!" and then tells my spit glands (or whatever, i'm clearly not a body scientist) to go nuts. my fingers start to tingle too, like i want to put whatever the thing is in my pocket.
how unusual is this? let's take a survey: does this (or any other weird sensory response) happen to you?
how unusual is this? let's take a survey: does this (or any other weird sensory response) happen to you?
wutupdate. on the sixes.
i'm noticing more and more that my main concern with these friday posts is to tell you how i'm doing with my "year of the womanly arts" challenge. which is why i'm going to lead off today by telling you that i'm a bit of a failure this week.
i showered twice. i brushed my hair zero times, until it was so tangled it was breaking off in chunks. i'm not kidding you. i bit my nails all stinking week and now they're all ragged and hang-nail-y. my nail polish is all chipped off on my toes.
BUT! there is some good news!
1) i used a pinterest recipe for a sugar scrub and my legs now feel like frosting. in a good way, as weird as that might sound.
2) as it turns out, it wasn't The Perfect Bag that was giving me The Arthritic Shoulder! it was my lumpy, sorry excuse for a pillow. as soon as i switched pillows, my shoulder healed right up and i can now carry my purse as capably and as proudly as any kardashian. (i'm pretty sure that's the only thing i have in common with the kardashians, other than being pregnant and dramatic all the time and also being married to a black guy.)
and as for the rest of the week's updates:
i fell down the stairs. with finneas in-arms. whilst pregnant. i kind of turned my body so i could grab the railing with my free hand, and leaned really far back so i wouldn't fall forward onto finn or my stomach, and i resultingly somehow jammed my femur up in between my shoulder blades. or so it felt. i am now what seems to be a permanent cripple. and one leg is noticeably shorter than the other when i stand. i'm turning into my mother.
penelope got her replacement glasses, and i was surprised at the level of joy i had seeing her wear them again. when she first got glasses, i spent a long time grieving the fact that they covered her pretty face and eyes. this week, when she put them on, i was like, there's my girl! they're just part of her now.
i'm headed to an appointment with my new midwife this morning, and i'll get to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time! hopefully they'll also schedule me for an ultrasound sometime in the near future, so we'll finally know if this kid is a von voorst or a van vaarst. (clearly i'm a moron, judging by my jokes.)
and since i forgot last week, here are the two most recent photos of the Perpetual Baby House That Is Paige Van Voorst:
i look deceptively large in that last one. that shirt is going to the back of the closet as soon as i'm done blogging for the day.
and here's one, for posterity's sake, of one (just one) of my eyes looking drunk:
it's all, need more eye whiskey! NEED MORE EYE WHISKEY! (cheap seats, anyone?)
anyway. that was my week. what was (wut)up with you?
i showered twice. i brushed my hair zero times, until it was so tangled it was breaking off in chunks. i'm not kidding you. i bit my nails all stinking week and now they're all ragged and hang-nail-y. my nail polish is all chipped off on my toes.
BUT! there is some good news!
1) i used a pinterest recipe for a sugar scrub and my legs now feel like frosting. in a good way, as weird as that might sound.
2) as it turns out, it wasn't The Perfect Bag that was giving me The Arthritic Shoulder! it was my lumpy, sorry excuse for a pillow. as soon as i switched pillows, my shoulder healed right up and i can now carry my purse as capably and as proudly as any kardashian. (i'm pretty sure that's the only thing i have in common with the kardashians, other than being pregnant and dramatic all the time and also being married to a black guy.)
and as for the rest of the week's updates:
i fell down the stairs. with finneas in-arms. whilst pregnant. i kind of turned my body so i could grab the railing with my free hand, and leaned really far back so i wouldn't fall forward onto finn or my stomach, and i resultingly somehow jammed my femur up in between my shoulder blades. or so it felt. i am now what seems to be a permanent cripple. and one leg is noticeably shorter than the other when i stand. i'm turning into my mother.
penelope got her replacement glasses, and i was surprised at the level of joy i had seeing her wear them again. when she first got glasses, i spent a long time grieving the fact that they covered her pretty face and eyes. this week, when she put them on, i was like, there's my girl! they're just part of her now.
i'm headed to an appointment with my new midwife this morning, and i'll get to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time! hopefully they'll also schedule me for an ultrasound sometime in the near future, so we'll finally know if this kid is a von voorst or a van vaarst. (clearly i'm a moron, judging by my jokes.)
and since i forgot last week, here are the two most recent photos of the Perpetual Baby House That Is Paige Van Voorst:
i look deceptively large in that last one. that shirt is going to the back of the closet as soon as i'm done blogging for the day.
and here's one, for posterity's sake, of one (just one) of my eyes looking drunk:
it's all, need more eye whiskey! NEED MORE EYE WHISKEY! (cheap seats, anyone?)
anyway. that was my week. what was (wut)up with you?
video vednesday: good job, that was a test.
i'm hoping that we have a guest bathroom in our new house, just so i have an excuse to set out this super funny soap. again with the blur between tacky junk and appropriate decor. but srrrsly, if you don't think this soap is ridiculous and yet somehow profoundly tasteful, maybe you don't need to be a guest in my home. that's for you to sort out on your own. (totes kidding; you don't have to like the soap to stay here. but if i catch you not wearing a cowboy hat and full suit in my shower, you're out of here.)
one cook is too many cooks in the kitchen, if that cook is me.
i've never really liked to cook. i think it started out as a direct result of my complete cluelessness and my tight grocery budget, and was fueled by some early failures (um, have you heard the story of that one time, early in marriage, when i made Jalapeno-Coconut Milk-Pumpkin Soup? can you guess, on a scale of one to sewage, just how disgusting it was? i bet you can.)
then i had kids and my disdain for cooking got stronger. not only was i exhausted by the end of the day, but i would have to figure out how to cook with kids running between my legs and sticking their heads in the oven and generally just being antagonistic toward the whole process. not to mention the scientifically proven fact that a child cannot be within a ten-foot radius of the stove without whining his head off. then, once i got the food on the table, the kids would - without fail - complain about what i made, ask for something different, cry, throw it/spit it out, and/or start gagging. hardly makes the effort seem worth it.
and then there's after-dinner cleanup, which makes me want to die. i'm wondering if that guy that sawed his own arms off at the home depot did it as an excuse to get out of scraping dried eggs off the sides of a pan.
but lately, i feel like the heavens have been parting and the angels have been singing and cooking has generally been on the up and up. and here's why:
1. a strict "stop whining or get out of my kitchen" rule. harsh but effective.
2. pinterest, and recipes i'm actually excited to try. (HUGE motivator!)
3. a slightly-expanded tolerance for new foods on the part of my kids.
4. pinterest-recipe brownies to use as self-medication when things go terribly awry. (this is still real-life, after all.)
what has helped you guys hate cooking less? or am i alone in finding it a scourge? please tell me i'm not alone...
then i had kids and my disdain for cooking got stronger. not only was i exhausted by the end of the day, but i would have to figure out how to cook with kids running between my legs and sticking their heads in the oven and generally just being antagonistic toward the whole process. not to mention the scientifically proven fact that a child cannot be within a ten-foot radius of the stove without whining his head off. then, once i got the food on the table, the kids would - without fail - complain about what i made, ask for something different, cry, throw it/spit it out, and/or start gagging. hardly makes the effort seem worth it.
and then there's after-dinner cleanup, which makes me want to die. i'm wondering if that guy that sawed his own arms off at the home depot did it as an excuse to get out of scraping dried eggs off the sides of a pan.
but lately, i feel like the heavens have been parting and the angels have been singing and cooking has generally been on the up and up. and here's why:
1. a strict "stop whining or get out of my kitchen" rule. harsh but effective.
2. pinterest, and recipes i'm actually excited to try. (HUGE motivator!)
3. a slightly-expanded tolerance for new foods on the part of my kids.
4. pinterest-recipe brownies to use as self-medication when things go terribly awry. (this is still real-life, after all.)
what has helped you guys hate cooking less? or am i alone in finding it a scourge? please tell me i'm not alone...
does this count as writing a guest post? sort of?
a while ago, i sent an email to my friend jenni, in hopes that it would encourage her. in a sweet turn of events, she thought it would be helpful to share with other moms and posted it on her blog. head on over there - i hope you can be encouraged too!
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