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Wednesday, 1 October 2014

A Bit of a Change

Hey. Hey you guys. Thanks for the all support. Yesterday was a whopper of a day and this morning I have to head to the doctor to get my clean bill of health. I am looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. I need to not wear stretchy pants for a day or two. I feel better this morning but only because I have to feel better in order to get through the next few days. The Husband will be going to the daycare tomorrow and we will see what they say to him. I'm still a little shakey mad but at least I am surrounded by my Halloween decorations and that is my happy place. The Kid has been fine with the place turning into the depths of Hell. He got really excited to see the fake crows again. His favourite big plastic one is his buddy. This morning I caught him babbling to it and trying to get it to eat. Heart melted.

Anyway, so, I have a little secret. I've been doing something for the past 6 days. Something I never thought I would or could do. Something that would make most people who know me go "WAIT UP! What?!?"


So here's my secret... Wait for it.. For the past 6 days I have been.... I have been... Oh God... I have been a... vegan.

Yeah... I know. Let that sink in. Now, before you call me some hippie hispter hipperiffic hip person, let me stop you for a second. I have literally been the most anti-vegan person ever. I'd meet a vegan and then I'd be all like "BAHAHAHAHA! ARE YOU CRAZY?!?! YOU MUST BE CRAZY!" and then in front of them would melt cheese on bacon and chortle to myself for another hour. "Vegan! Bahahahaha!" Well, I guess now, I need to eat some crow. Well, crowfurkey. You know, the tofu crow because I can't eat meat... or eggs,,, or cheese...or milk... WHAT HAVE I DONE?!

I know what I have done. I have made a decision in a moment of weakness. I also listened to my office buddy on the merits of veganism (you will pay, buddy) and then I watched a Youtube video of Jenna Marbles who has an amazing figure and does a 6:1 vegan plan. And after some careful research (Googled: attractive celebrities who are vegans) I decided that I too would give it a whirl. I plan to do the 6:1 which pretty much means that 6 days of the week I will eat vegan and then 1 day of the week, I will eat a vegan, sauteed in butter and topped with cheese.

Yes. I will do this. Why? Because I think this will rein in my eating, make me make better life choices that don't involve mac and cheese and yes, because I am a complete masochist. I'm proud that I have made it to day 6. Ok yes I had some chips (vegan approved chips) because the Husband ate a pizza and that made me angry. And I bought a vegan cake yesterday because mommy needed loving. But shut up.

So on Sunday, I will eat a lot of cheese, maybe have some ribs and definitely consider bacon as a main course. Go ahead, judge me but you will see in a week or two I will be a hemp wearing smug person... Or I will end up doing this below at 3 in the morning.


Tuesday, 30 September 2014

Are You Kidding Me?!?!

I haven't posted in a while. I have been battling a nasty sinus infection. Sinus infections also mean antibiotics. Now, it has been a couple of years since I have been on them, I have forgotten that they give me the... well... the worst digestion ever. The doctor prescribed me a couple of things and one thing was stuff to line my stomach. And I bought it, and then I looked at it and put it in the back of the cabinet and said to myself "Well, I bought shashlik off the street in Moscow and my stomach is just fine and I will be damned if I... ugh" and then had to run to the toilet. Ugh. Rough week. But the silver lining was that the Kid was doing really well at the new daycare. As most of you know, we have lived an epic year in terms of finding a place for the Kid, as well as coming to terms with the fact that our child is special needs.

In May, at the old daycare, we shifted to half days. Then, in June, we went down to 3 half days a week. And then in July, we had no daycare at all. We started at the new place on September 3rd and were amazed at the amazingness of the place. Full support, competent employess and it was just downstairs! Up until yesterday I was seeing the light and feeling hopeful that we could finally get back to "normal life". Meaning... both the Husband and I could go to work, and then come home at a normal time. Yeah, fml.


Yesterday I picked the Kid up at 11:45 and they informed me that he had had a huge freak out. I asked what had happened and they said that they tried to take a walk around the park (our park) and he was not up for it and lost his mind. Now, internally I thought "Why?!?! Why?!?!?" We have spent 4 weeks getting him into your establishment and now you want to take him for a walk?!? Your playground is HUGE! WHY?!?! But I murmured "He's very tired" and they nodded and I took him home. I had a pit in my stomach.

So this morning I took him again. He was well rested. He ran in, the happiest I have seen him in a year and I said my good byes. Sidenote: they told The Husband last week that if The Kid does not eat lunch in front of them, he can't stay so the plan was that I would come at lunch time and somehow foie gras him. Anyway, I left him there, praying he would be chill with the walk around the park and headed home. I may or may not have sat in the kitchen with binoculars, monitoring the exodus. It seemed to go well and then I headed there at 11:45. He was running around the yard, happy as a clam and then the fuckery started.

I was asked about my pregnancy. I was asked about the birth. I was asked if we had at-home support to take care of him. At which point I was all like "Say what?!"


She then tried to inform me that our son was special needs at which point I wanted to be like "Yeah. duh. That's why we are here. Why we were placed here. At the specialty daycare." I wasn't sure where the conversation was going and then she said "Well. He can only stay until noon from now on." At this point my bottom lip started to quiver and I tried to keep it together. Is this real life? Or Hell? Or is this some weird universe joke. I responded with "But. But. We both work full time." and she said "Well, I'm sorry... but your son comes first."

I... I don't even know what to say or think at this point. I am cried out. I drank a lot of wine. I will leave you all with this. My son has always come first. The insinuation that because I work, I am a bad mother.. I can't. I just can't. And so I am going to cry a little more. And just ask for some good thoughts that maybe one day I can look back at this and laugh. Because at this point... it's fucking bleak.

Thursday, 25 September 2014

Visiting the Doctor in Vienna

Well, what a week? I'm officially home due to a sinus infection. On Tuesday afternoon I had some pain in my upper back and just assumed that I had pulled some muscles in excitement when I discovered that Martha Stewart has a calendar that details her plans for the month. If I follow her calendar, I too can be her. I just need to find an easy way to the Hamptons and perhaps buy some real estate so that I can plant daffodil bulbs in anticipation for a 2015 Spring.


Yeah, ahem. Anyway. On Tuesday evening, I headed to a friend's place where I made some curry and we watched So I Married an Axe Murderer. I tell ya (In a Canadian accent), that film is still amahzing. And maybe it's my age, or the illness, but I was finding Mike Myers incredibly attractive. Maybe personality truly does count?

I started to feel worse during the night and by Wednesday, I was having problems breathing and I was not happy. When I get sick, one of two things can happen. I can turn into a bumbling, pathetic cabbage patch doll with body issues or a raging bitch.
What the what? Oh Internet, you're awesome.

I chose "bitch" for Wednesday. I think I yelled at the Husband for trying to fold a fitted sheet in the morning. "YOU CAN'T DO IT! OH SURE! THERE'S A VIDEO! BUT UNTIL I WATCH IT AIN'T NOBODY IN THIS HOUSE GONNA FOLD A FITTED SHEET! OH! AND BY THE WAY! WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU BROUGHT ME FLOWERS?" followed by wheezing and getting under the covers and whimpering "I'm siiiiiiick" The Husband backed out slowly of the bedroom and took the Kid to daycare.

At noon, the Kid came back and we played the game "Let Mommy lie on the floor while you watch Dora". The Nanny came at 1:30 and I was able to slip into the bedroom where I spent 3 hours of bliss asleep. I started to feel a little better in the evening and thought I would be back at work the next day. Wasn't going to happen as I awoke in the middle of the night with a pounding headache and face pain. Luckily I got some suggestions for a GP and on Thursday morning I headed to one in the First District because yes I am a snob but I am a very very nice person. After waiting about an hour, I was called in and I kept my heart contained within my chest cavity because I literally have the greatest fear of doctors. This doc was incredibly sweet. Noted my pastiness, my clamminess, checked my ears and my throat, made me hold my head down and then whip it back up (very Footloose) and then said "Yes, you have the sinus infection. Stay home for week, take antibiotics. Oh, and your neck is fat, make an appointment for an ultrasound" Z'Ok, Doc. You're nice and all. Will just grab that prescription there and my fat neck and I will be on our merry way. Great, childhood complex rising.

I decided to stop at the pharmacy on the Graben. Yes, I know. I'm a snob. So sue me for liking to buy my drugs at pretty places. I brought out my prescription and the very nice pharmacist typed it up and informed me that my drugs would be coming up shortly. Wait. What? Was this some weird Alicia Silverstone chew-the-drug-first-pass-to-customer new age crap? Coming up? What do you MEAN?!? Oh, there's a hole on the counter. Here come the drugs up through the hole. I'll just pay my bill but not before I exclaimrd out loud "THAT IS LIKE THE COOLEST THING EVER! I want that for everything in my home!" and then I realized I was being an idiot and left quickly.

I got home, took my drugs and picked up the Kid. We once again played "Let mommy lie on the floor while you watch Dora" and then the Nanny came again and I got to sleep in the bedroom once more. I'm still feeling like crap but at least I know what I am dealing with... a fat neck complex. Hopefully next week I can get my neck scanned and it will just show fat and not some baby neck Gremlin who's made it his home.

So, it's time to head back to bed. I woke up too early because I thought I had to impress my Fitbit but I'm all like "Not today Fitbit, not today". Happy weekend.


Tuesday, 23 September 2014

Le Weekend Passe

So I have started taking French again. It is daunting to be using my brain besides for work or all things that glitter. Tres strange to be a student again. And actually a little exciting. I hope that in a few months the Husband will be all like "You have worked so hard! Let's go to FRANCE and I will buy you something French, like... Chanel" and I will be like "Oh oui, oui, oui!" and then we would open some champagne and talk about Les Americans and smokes our Gitaines. Oui! Sacre Bleu.
Let's go to Le McDonalds mon petit chou!
This past weekend was busy. We hosted our friend's memorial and the total count of visitors came out to 49. Incroyable! Oh, 49 and a dog. I made finger food because then I could forgo the cutlery. The menu was: cucumber sandwiches, pigs in a blanket, toasted gnocchi, hummus with crackers, mini pizzas, honey garlic meatballs and cupcakes. The decor was comprised mainly of red roses because they were Christian's favourite flower. Even a couple of days later, our apartment is fragrant. And not in the toddler fragrant way it usually is.

Sunday was spent cleaning up and recycling. As I mentioned on Facebook, every time I recycle bottles, I like to call it Mommy's Shame and want to yell at people passing by "I DIDN'T DRINK ALL OF THIS! I SWEAR!"
We call this "going green" in our house.

On Sunday I also realized that whatever critical thinking I used to possess has flown out the window. Be it the exhaustion from failed sleep training or the one too many glasses of champagne... but guys, I be dumb. So dumb. Before I continue, just a quick thank you to Drano and to my friend Debra. Both saved my marriage on Sunday. You guys are the best. Yes, Drano is what you think it is. Now a close personal family friend. Judge me for befriending a chemical.
Bffs for eva!

The first gaffe was when I was cleaning up from the party. I decided to flush some meatballs down the toilet since there was still some sauce and garbage bags in this country are porous. I flushed a couple of times and thought "Bye!" About twenty minutes later, as I rounded up more champagne glasses, the Husband yelled out "DEAR! What did you DO?!?!" Yes, I clogged the total with Ikea's best. As I ran back to the toilet in fear, I tried to think of ways to turn this around onto him. One brilliant idea was to say "Well, if you would get off your ass and help me clean the kitchen, this wouldn't have happened!" but luckily I remembered the bottle of Drano tucked away in our bathroom. I grabbed it and ran back to the toilet yelling "I HAVE DRANO! I HAVE DRANO!" I poured a pint into the toilet bowl and informed the Husband that there would be no plumbing for the next couple of hours. He was not amused and I crossed my fingers that I had not destroyed century old pipes.

After the two hours, the Husband flushed and to my greatest relief, there were no more issues. Thank you, Jeebus. But I wasn't done bringing down the old property value of our beautiful rental. Oh no, I still had some stupidity in me.

Halloween is a-coming and this year the party will truly be A Very Martha Halloween. Since I am not taping stuff to the walls, I have to re-haul my normal decorating and come up with a different way to make this place spooktacular. I'm starting by making our normally white living room into a grey and black living room. This requires dark sheets. I don't have dark sheets yet, rather, I have tons and tons of white sheets. So this lead me to the decision to dye ALL THE THINGS! I picked up some fabric dye last week; one flamingo pink sachet and one black one. I used the pink dye to dye a couple of blankets for the living room. Would be a good idea to actually read the instructions. Cheap Ikea blankets do not dye very well. At least they are a little pink. Then I decided to try and dye a large cotton day sheet black... in the tub. In the old tub. I filled up the tub with some warm water, dropped in the dye and then threw in the blanket. Smug that I was saving money by not buying a black blanket. The instructions said to let it soak for about 20 minutes but I like to live dangerously and decided to leave it in there for 2 hours. I left it for 3 hours because I got distracted by comments on an etiquette blog. Oh heart.

I walked into the bathroom and looked at my beautifully dyed blanket and felt smug. Oh so smug.

I turned on some cold water and started to rinse the dye out. I also noticed that the tub seemed to have turned purple. Not the water... the actual tub. I grabbed a little cillit bang and sprayed down the sides. I started to scrub gently, hoping the colour would come out with a couple of wipes. It did not. So applied a little more pressure. Nope. So I started to rub furiously. Nada. Then the panic set in. I ran and got some toilet cleaner and dumped that into the tub. Then some more cillit bang. And for all I know, I just created a dirty bomb. Nothing was working and I knew that if the Husband would see this, he would literally divorce me. I texted my friend Debra after 20 minutes of dry heaving and getting high off homemade vaporized LSD.

"Do you have bleach?"
She responded with "Yes, I am frightened that you ask." Ah. She knows me so well. An hour later she came by with her tools; Ajax, Magic Eraser and bleach. She shook her head at me when she saw the carnage and I tried to keep the Husband out. Obviously he did think it was odd when the two of us went into the bathroom immediately and started whispering. Our typical modus operandi is to head to the kitchen to get wine. I tried to keep the Husband out by promising him he would get to second base later but he pushed his way past. Luckily Debra had success in getting off the dye in one place so he didn't have to consider pushing me down the steps and making it look like an accident. SHE IS A LIFE SAVER! After a couple of minutes, most of the colour was off and I thanked her by opening up wine and not giving into my building panic attack. Hallelujah!

So there you have it, Sunday was the day that I almost destroyed our apartment. I decided to quit after the tub incident. Dying will now take place in a bucket. Lesson learned.



Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Sleep Training

We have been lucky. We have been oh so lucky. The Kid, since birth, has been a decent sleeper. Up until about a month ago, he used to beg us to go to bed. We were so smug. We were the McSmuggersons. And boy, have the mighty have fallen. For the past month, the Kid has decided that sleeping is for morons and has fought his bedtime tooth and nail. For at least 4 weeks, when we have put him to bed, without fail, 20 minutes later we here the pitter patter of toddler feet heading our way. We would bring him back calmly for the first 6 times, but by the 7th time, we were getting angry and desperate. Last week I started reading to him in bed and it was wonderful a few times, but the little bugger would forcibly keep himself awake and reading out loud for an hour straight is ever loving exhausting.

If this was our only problem, I would have accepted it and would have prayed that this phase would pass. But, not only is he fighting going to bed, he is now coming into our bed at 4 a.m. every morning. It was adorable the first week or two. Now, not so much. Especially because toddlers have some need to breakdance while sleeping and they also enjoy kicking you in the head.

These past 4 weeks were starting to wear on us and the crowning glory was when the Husband told me last week that the neighbour downstairs had complained. Now, I didn't realize that someone lived downstairs all the time. I never saw the lights on consistently and just assumed that it was a Vienna part-timer. I was wrong. The Husband told me she seemed very nice and was trying to be understanding. Because she didn't do the traditional Viennese call the cops on us move, I decided to be proactive and make her some cupcakes on Saturday. I rang her bell with my tray of artificially coloured cupcakes and introduced myself.

"Hi! I am Raphael's mom. We live upstairs. I brought these to apologize for all the noise" she eyed me warily. "I made you CUPCAKES!" I proclaimed.
All natural... all natural neon food colouring
"Thank you, but I don't really eat sweets. I'll take one, however. Is that strawberry glaze?" she asked.
"Nope! Just some good old fashioned food colouring. So anyway..." I answered in falsetto. She motioned for me to come in and I realized that the Husband had been napping so if he woke up and I wasn't home, he would have had no idea I had been kidnapped and kept in a box downstairs. Stupid, Tova. Stupid.

I walked in and she pointed to the kitchen and told me to sit down. Being nervous and trying to think of ways to say "special needs" in German, I kept blabbering. "So anyway, I am sorry about all the noise. Our son, he is a little developmentally delayed and is having a hard time adjusting to all the changes."

"Oh yes, I noticed that he was mentally disabled." she replied. Now, at this point I did the full bodied twitch but swallowed my rage and kept listening "There a lots of special schools for children like him." That was a line crossed. I took a breath.

"Well, he is three and a half and just a little delayed. We're not thinking of special schools just yet. So anyway, I just came to aplogize and to let you know that we are starting sleep training tonight and hopefully in a few days, he won't be waking you up in the middle of the night." She thanked me and was very nice and then I left with my full tray of cupcakes. Luckily I could pass them on to a good home since I am watching the calories and can't be trusted around things with frosting.

Thinking I had nipped that problem in the bud, I spent the rest of the day with the Kid and decided to wait another night for sleep training as him coughing up a lung was probably not conducive to a new regime.
You call that a cough, I'll show you a cough
Sunday morning I took a little early morning walk and as I neared our apartment, the downstairs neighbour opened her window and greeted me. Crap. She asked me if I took a lot of morning walks and suggested we do it together and I kept thinking how incredibly stupid I was for doing a nice thing. When I got home, I told the Husband and he yelled "YOU HAD TO GO AND MAKE CUPCAKES! YOU JUST HAD TO DO IT!" The Husband, although a major fan of Melrose Place, does not want to be friends with people in our building. At.all.
If Heather Locklear lived downstairs, I believe the Husband would be making cupcakes... a lot.

On Sunday I went to a lovely birthday party for a friend's daughter. In the evening. I re-read the e-mail I had gotten from my therapist about sleep training and made the Husband read it as well. Essentially, this training should take three nights. In a nutshell, you, without saying a word, calmly take your child back to his or her bed over and over again and wait until they fall asleep. This is different from our normal "GO TO SLEEP! GOOOOOOOOOOO TOOOOOOOOOOO SLEEP!" I was open to this new method. I hunkered down and started reading The Tao of Martha. After about 45 minutes, my throat started to seize and I decided that was enough for the night and told the Kid it was bedtime.

I walked out and turned off his light and one minute later, he came out. I took him by the hand and brought him back to bed. One minute later; repeat. This happened about 30 times over the next hour and then I finally placed him in bed and pointed angrily at his pillow. I turned into that closet monkey from the Family Guy.

The Kid couldn't see my rage but he sensed it and his head hit the pillow. I sat down on the floor and stared at him. After an hour he fell asleep and I was done.
I surrender!
I felt spent but was happy it had finally worked (2 hours, 2 MOTHER LOVING HOURS!) The Husband missed the fun because he was on the sofa asleep. He does not require sleep training. I woke him up with a kick and we headed to bed. I prayed we would get a good night's sleep. At 3 in the morning, it happened. The Kid tried to crawl into bed and I got up and lead him back to bed. This went on repeat for 45 minutes and I was in tears. So I decided to take my rage out on the Husband and yelled at him "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HELP ME!" He took over for another 45 minutes and broke the cardinal rule of not talking to the Kid. So I angrily kicked off the covers and yelled "DON'T TALK TO HIM!" and then it was downhill from there.

"WHY IS IT CALLED SLEEP TRAINING IF HE ISN'T SLEEPING?!?!?" he yelled.
"WHY ARE YOU ASKING THIS AT 3 IN THE MORNING! YOU READ THE E-MAIL! YOU UNDERSTOOD THE RULES!" I yelled back.
"IT DOESN'T WORK! IT ISN'T WORKING!" he roared.
"IT WILL WORK! YOU READ THE E-MAIL! I TOLD THE THERAPIST TO KEEP IT SHORT YOU ILLITERATE JERK!"
"OH? I'M THE JERK? I'M THE JERK?'

It wasn't pretty, ladies and gentlemen. It wasn't pretty. Lest you think we screamed in front of the Kid like this, I can assure you that these were angry whispers. Very very angry whispers outside the Kid's door. We are very mean to each other at 3 in the morning. I might have said something about visiting a lawyer. Might have. Perhaps. At least we could both smile the next morning when I pointed out that the Kid made it through the night without sleeping in our bed. Needless to say, we are fine again. For now. Never forget.
Sleep training; 2014. We will rebuild.
What is it about toddlers. Why are they angelic one minute and satan's little boy the next? Look at this beautiful face!

Sleep training? "Hi Mommy!"

So last night was night two and it went a LOT better than the first night. The Husband put him to bed and he fell asleep within minutes. Well, they both did. Then, yes, he did wake up at three but I put him back to bed and laid down on the ground beside him. I am currently awaiting an email from my therapist confirming that this is a mistake. He slept until 5 and then I gave him some milk and then I headed out for my walk and the Husband took over. Tonight will be night 3 and I just hope he makes it through the night. I am a zombie. I am at the end. Please keep us in your prayers or just send me a referral for a decent divorce lawyer to keep on file. Maybe send one to the Husband as well. Fair's fair.


Operation Tubetop 12 Week Challenge - Week 3


Wassup! Oh man, am I happy to be heading to work today. It has been the House of Sick over here. The Kid has a bad cold (it is starting to clear up now) and now the Husband has man flu. Luckily he (the Husband) segregated himself yesterday and stayed for the afternoon at his parents' place. The Nanny, like an angel, arrived yesterday afternoon at our place so I was able to head out and take a breath and buy moss (Halloween, it a-coming). I also met a friend in the evening for a trip to Ikea. Little sidenote: Ikea shopping with another female is how the Ikea experience should go down. There is aahing and oohing and no "I will cut you, you bastard if you do not let me buy this totally impractical lamp". Ahem. Anyway. As promised, here are my stats after 2 weeks. It's not a huge loss but I am still really happy. I am getting a lot of walking in and being very careful with my caloric intake. I have also noticed that my stomach has settled these past couple of weeks and I am in a much better mood. Win win.

So here comes week 3 and I am ready! Here is my plan for the upcoming week; exercise-wise:

Monday: I didn't get a morning walk in because of sleep training (stay tuned) but managed over 20,000 steps.
Tuesday: Morning walk and an extra mini walk after work
Wednesday: Morning walk and home yoga for 30 minutes
Thursday: Morning walk x 2 and pilates
Friday: Step machine
Saturday: Morning walk
Sunday: (hopefully) Bikram and then family walk in the afternoon

Week 3, here we go! Let's do this!



Tuesday, 9 September 2014

A Crafty Weekend


Finally finally I got a whole weekend at home. It has been 9 weeks since we have had an only family weekend and it was so needed. I hate flaking on plans but I realized that after this summer, family weekends are a priority. I also got a lot of crafting done which was fantastic! Usually I have to wait until the Kid is in bed until I can get my papier mache on and since, for the past month or so, he hasn't been instantly falling asleep, our nights have pretty much been nightmarific. In the past, the Kid would happily go to bed but for some unknown reason, he has bucked this awesome trend and now gets out of his bed at least 20 times in the course of an hour or two. This has been driving us batshit crazy. On Sunday I set up his big boy bed and he was ecstatic. We put him to bed at 8 and I decided to give reading a try.
Kind of looks like where the cast of MTV's Underaged and Engaged stars would spend their wedding night.

As I wrote on Facebook, for the first time in over a year, I was able to actually read a book to him. I read Peter Rabbit and at the end of the book, the Kid demanded an encore. I read the book 4 times and hid my tears of joy. Then I told him it was time for bed and turned off his light. I was in a happy place for about 10 minutes. Then a low-rent version of Benny Hill happened and the Husband and I spent 2 hours chasing the Kid back to bed. He finally passed out at 10 and then we did too. At 4 in the morning, he came into our bed and we spent an hour trying to get him to go back to sleep. We were not zen at.all. Last night I decided that we had to nip this spiel in the bud and I decided to read again. But this time (and yes, you can judge me as a mother, but not openly) I hid my Kindle in one of his books and read a novel out loud. No, it was not 50 Shades of Gray but rather The Tao of Martha by Jen Lancaster. Lulled by my grating voice, he fell asleep within 30 minutes. It was pretty awesome. The Husband is on bedtime duty tonight, he might be bringing in a Sports Illustrated. We are bad people.
This is a perfectly good book for bedtime reading for a toddler. Please don't judge me.

So, back to the crafting. It was great! The Kid hung out at the dining room table playing with fake leaves while I painted and glued and created. The Husband, meanwhile, put together some Ikea furniture. There was a lot of swearing in the background. But I stayed in the moment and felt all sorts of feels. Especially when the Husband stabbed himself in the thigh with a screwdriver. I kid you not, there is a hole in his jeans. I didn't laugh... out loud.

The first thing I did was make my Fall wreath. I took a styrofoam wreath, got some glue, and glued on dozens of fake leaves. Then I tied on a Fall berry twig thing with some orange ribbon and voila. Apologies for the craptastic picture.

And then I headed to the shop for some more foliage and stumbled upon a white ceramic pumpkin. Yes! Our living room is white, silver and pink and I was struggling with the colour theme for a Fall centerpiece. #firstworldproblems. But this pumpkin saved the day. I decided to paint the remaining fake leaves in silver paint and add pink and silver glitter.


And then I artfully placed it on a silver platter and I am smitten with my Fall centerpiece. Come, let us adore it.

It was a great weekend and I feel like it was the great start to the Fall season. I still have so much to do the next few weeks but I feel much more relaxed knowing that I can craft during the day and the only casualty will be glitter in the Kid's diaper in a day or two.