Whatever works.

I love this color combo... maybe I need to redo a room in my house like this... Lil Big Sass named the finished doll Dahnsk... and I think that could be a great name for a line of home goods.... hmmm.

So, I posted on my facebook status that I was back up and running making dolls and to hit me up with a custom order and before I knew it I got 2 orders... and more have come in since. Pretty crazy and encouraging that if I miraculously had the time to put my full focus and attention to getting these out there to the masses, I might, just might have a chance at bringing them to life on a grand scale. That would be amazing because I absolutely love making them. Everything from choosing the fabrics and color combos to sewing up those cute long legs or special horns to giving personality through the face. When I turn them right side out it's such a satisfying moment. And with every one I create I learn something new that I can use to create the next one. How to do a stitch better or handle the shoelace cleaner or even how to secure them better or FASTER! Faster is key because honestly, what I charge for them really doesn't cover the labor of making them but I figure I'll figure that out eventually. Right now, I just want to make them and know that they are going all over to make kids (big and small) smile. It's kinda awesome.

Lil Big Sass (aka LBS) named this one Bodah! Here she is gettin' made atop LBS's layered art.

So one of the coolest things that's happened is that people from my distant past are contacting me to make these guys for them and with each one I make, I take a stroll down memory lane. It's been amazing for me... especially on these incredibly challenging snow and ice days when I'm stuck inside with a screaming baby and rambunctious preschooler. One order came from a friend from my bartending days. Yep. I was a bartender and it was really awesome! It was actually at the bar that was filmed in the movie There's Something About Mary. But of course, that happened like 2 weeks before I started and was the only time anything exciting like that happened there. But still. That was an awesome gig. I only worked on Sundays... and they had an outdoor bar and terrace that opened onto the water. So tipsy post-brunchers would come hang out, not get unruly and tip big. It was in the biggest little (R.I.) and I seriously paid my rent off of my 1 day a week bartending gig. Wow. Those were the days.

I had great conversations. Crazy. But great. And the most interesting people worked and drank there. It was while I was in college and for a couple of years after. I decided to go to bartending school on the weekends literally because I thought if I had to talk about art or worse... DESIGN with one more student I'd blow my brains out. I had to get out and meet non designers. Funny enough, I think that's where I learned how to be happy actually. Ha. In a bar. That's funny. No, but really. I saw a lot there. A lot of sadness. A lot of loneliness. A lot of happiness. A lot of true friendship and undying camaraderie. A lot of people making things work for them. I didn't realize it until recently... maybe even as I'm typing this epiphanies are coming. I saw a lot of what I wanted and didn't want and that helped me move through to attain some goals for myself. But more interesting and poignant is the part about seeing people making things work for them. I think about that a ton now. When I was all naive and in school and in the world is my oyster phase, I looked at some of the longtime bartenders who had other jobs too or were single moms and I wondered why they were still bartending. It seemed like something you do for a while and get on with things... because it's not an easy job. And depending on your shift, it can be downright grueling. Let's just start with standing on your feet for 8 hours or whatever your shift is with wet hands in cold ice and fielding impatient people 3 deep at your bar who are rude a lot of the time. That's intense on it's own but then there's all the other stuff. It can take patience, laughter, humor, intelligence, empathy, energy, consideration, vulnerability, love, guidance, courage, discipline, a fast tongue, thick skin and wit.. among so many other things to get through the night. Drunk people are a lot like babies, toddlers and even preschoolers. Many of them cry. Many of them whine. Many of them act erratic. Many of them scream or push or fight or cast angry and hurtful words your way. Many of them try to outsmart you or worse screw you over without considering the repercussions. They are irrational and raw. Emotions fly with reckless abandon which is really beautiful and treacherous all at the same time. Many times it's heart breaking. Yet other times it's full of joy and a happiness that you don't see when people have their guards up. Sometimes you see all the flaws that make that person superhumanly amazing. I didn't really get it then, except to say that I LOVED that job. I loved that bar. I loved those people. I craved going there and when I wasn't working, I would sometimes just go and hang. It was fun and felt safe to be with friends like that. The only other place I loved as much was in the studio late a night when everyone was busting ass to get their project done and instead of competing with one another, everyone just pitched in to make sure we all made it to the crit with awesome shit in the morning. Whatever it took. Actually a lot of the time I was at the bar I wasn't drinking so it wasn't that. It was an escape but not that kind. I mean I definitely wasn't a drinker at all when I started. I had my bartending flip book behind the bar that I would have to look up drinks in but there was a mirror behind me so I was always worried the customers could see me. In my first week a regular customer ordered a dirty Martini and I proudly served him up a very tart Margarita! He sent it back and I made the same thing... another more seasoned bartender had to fix it and fix me... ha. I'd be a way better bar tender now. At least as far as the quality of my drinks go. I know my way around various liquors by now... then I had no idea where to look on the shelf for Brandy or Scotch or Whiskey or even what they tasted like or why anyone would ever drink that... unless you add Coke of course. These days, I love me a good Whiskey based concoction...well a sip here and there until I'm done with this ridiculous breastfeeding. That is another post altogether, friends.

This is what our bar lineup looks like these days...

Regardless of how well I whipped up a drink (which got way better over time by the way) I was a fan favorite because I liked the vibe. I liked to talk. I liked to shoot the shit and giggle and just have fun. It was so light then for me. But back to the single moms and people who had full time jobs during the week and still came to weekend shifts. Back then, I wondered why. Why would a single mom be a bartender? And now I know. And it's brilliant. Because it afforded her a way to be with her kids in the daytime and still support them. She worked night shifts. I mean really. It was brilliant. She experienced the best part of her kids, and then went to work while they slept. And she was awesome. Now her kids are grown, she's a teacher and she still has bar shifts. I would love for my kids to have her as a teacher. She taught me a ton that she doesn't even realize. And the others who worked fulltime jobs that paid amazing amounts and still came a did a weekend shift. It was for the friendships. A place of belonging and really letting loose and having some fun. It was really a fun place. I miss it a lot. I miss that kind of outlet and that kind of connection.

Just hanging out cozy and casual together... Bodah and Dahnsk shippin' out to make the lil girls giggle.

When I first started at the Hot Club (Yes, the Hot Club and no I didn't take my clothes off),  a bunch of bartenders pooled together and rented a house on Martha's Vineyard for a couple of weeks in the summer. It was basically a rotating door of employees and customers, all friends throughout the whole time and it again was awesome. I hadn't been working there long when they did it and off-handedly offered for me to go. At that time in my life, everything was a why the hell not kind of thing so I figured out how to get to Woods Hole and catch the ferry and gasp... be without my car... and it was really a great time. I had never done anything like tht before. We beached together, cooked together and all the booze were supplied by the bar. With each new car load of people came a trunk full of more booze. Crazy. I drank Mike's Hard Lemonade then. Yum. I was a bit of a lighter drinker.. ha. The next year I was the girlfriend of the manager and I went in on renting the house and again it had a rotating door. That went on for several summers... like 6 years or so. The woman who just ordered dolls was one of the other core house founders. My (obviously) ex-boyfriend's best friend. She has a darling lil munchkin now and another on the way but bought the dolls for a friend across the country with two little girls because she said she thought they'd be something cool and different. I think that's a huge compliment. She sent me a note once she got them saying that they are fantastic and so well made and that I've always done great work. That one sentence made me feel so good. On a day when I really needed it. Someone from long, long ago remembers me as someone who puts time and effort into things and produces things of quality. And that I delivered that again all these years later. That I care.

The details make the difference.

Dahnsk is such a dapper dude...

I dunno... I started this with the intent of talking about the process of making creatures... (look for that in another post!) and I've just been writing as it comes to me. Funny how it's shaped up. I love making these dolls. I'd love these to be my 'bartending' gig that let's me be with my kids and also make a living. I haven't figured it out yet but I'm working on it because it's so clear all of a sudden that we all just do what we can to make it work. It's not perfect or smooth or even fully planned out but somehow it organically comes about and we figure it out so that it works for us. And it probably doesn't look a thing like we pictured it looking. How could we even begin to imagine what reality would look like with small children. There is just no way to fathom it until you are in it... even if you've been around a ton of kids. When they are yours, it's just a completely different ballgame. So I'm just gonna let go of that ever present, action swallowing need to be tied to the way it looks and make shit happen. Today, when I'm in the trenches desperately working to figure out how to balance kids, work, fulfillment, self identity, joy and the need to cover my bills...and not go back to a job I hated but was good at and made a decent living doing, this gives me hope to push on and just keep keepin' on, knowing it's taking me somewhere. Whew. Thank God she ordered those dolls and thank God I remembered that job...it seriously shifted me from trying to do it all and feel miserable when I can't take it all on to being ok with admitting that I need support. And that looks just fine if it works for us all.

Feeling content as I head off to bed...

sad face. happy face.

Homemade window clings with my lil girl. These are her original drawings. Faces. Sad, happy and mouthless.

So, I started this blog all hyped up to just write whatever I feel... or just document the daily happenings of our life with two kids and one sweet old dog. But here we are like 25 days later and this is the first time I've written. There are lots of reasons for this but really, they are just excuses right? I mean that's what the tough love junkies tell me: Everything you say to make up for not doing the thing you want to do or at the very least said you'd do are just stories you tell yourself to make it ok and stay mediocre. To stay safe and not move forward. Why would I want to not move forward? Again, a ton of reasons... fear being the most prominent. Fear of failure. Fear of judgement. Fear of being too vulnerable, too public, too open or opinionated or too cynical or too boastful or too... naive perhaps? And so I spin stories. I mean they are true but they are still stories.

Confusing right? Well, it's true that yesterday I wanted to write but I got up super early because my infant decided that he likes the freedom of his new sleep sack enough that he waves and waves until he wakes up in a screaming fit, wanting who knows what. So I sleepily flop my arm over the side of the bed, re-insert his binky, try not to make eye contact, reposition myself so that I can lazily slop my arm off the bed and rock the bassinet and lull him back to slumber. Only I keep falling asleep and it stops rocking and he wails even louder. Finally, he's just up, screaming and so I resolve that I will be up too. So I get up and stuff a boob in his mouth and that makes him happy... for exactly 3 minutes and 22 seconds. Which is actually quite long for the left side. So I switch to the right and he takes about 5 minutes 7 seconds there. Yay! I totally just lulled him back to sleep... now to pop the binky back in, put him in the bassinet and climb back to bed to get the extra 2.5 hours before we all usually get up to get my pre-schooler prepped for ballet class. Um... nice try. Yeah, now he's just arching his back in my arms, spitting out the binky (I thought the binky solved all problems...) and wailing a sound that is sure to wake up the whole condo complex. Well, everyone that is, except my hubster. He's 3 feet away snoring like a bear. Good times. So, I do what I always do when I am trying to get him to sleep and he's fighting it and I'm getting increasingly flustered. I close my eyes, move my body in a semi fast yet very gentle figure eight and breathe into it. I visualize that my body is actually floating in an infinity pool and the figure eight is the motion of the waves. Even though infinity pools don't have much of a wave happening, just go with me here. It helps that we use a white noise machine set on ocean sounds. This usually calms us both and we get the job done. Yeah, not today. Nope. Not gonna happen. No, today, he's pissed. I have no idea why and I'm shit tired. And impatient. The floating bit isn't really helping anyone today. I basically live my life in fear of this moment. I'm pretty good with what comes my way with kids until sleep is involved. That just unnerves me. To the point that I freak out when the hubs clanks a plate or forgets to turn down the tv during the loud music portion of our after hours marathon of Breaking Bad on Netflix. So much so that he gets seriously irritated with me constantly saying, "shhh" or " quiet it down, will ya?!" To which I say, "I'm the one who has to deal with a baby up all night, so please bear with my craziness". I know I'm walking in fear and it's absurd but man... sleep deprivation is no joke.

But tonight... I change my mind. It's not just my job to soothe this lil guy. I'm losing it. I can't take the screaming and the snoring and I tap hubby on the shoulder, wake him up with, "Your turn. He won't calm down". He slowly gets up and makes his way over to start the swaying. And without a word, I climb into bed. Next thing I know the hubs is heading to the family room to put him in the swing... not really what I would do but I have to let go. And I do. I literally just fall asleep and don't wake back up until my alarm goes off. I head to the family room fully prepared for a grumpy, sleep deprived husband and potentially grumpier infant. They are both blissfully sleeping. Did I mention, blissfully? Awesome. Except that they are in the family room of our tiny apartment and my 3.5 year old is in her room yelling for me to come in and get her up and dressed and I need to fix breakfast asap so that we can get to ballet in time. Can I manage all of this without waking them? I have no idea how long they've been asleep. So I attempt the impossible. And miraculously, the girl manages to stay quiet while eating her breakfast. In fact, I think I may have witnessed empathy just then. Now, getting her dressed for ballet, that's a completely different story... and out of the house on time... needless to say, everyone was awake by the time we left, 7 minutes before class started. Oh and the dog... yes, well, she is old and has taken to not being able to hold her bowels in any way once she eats her brekkies so we have this insane routine:

Can you get sweeter than this face?

1. Fill her bowl with a can of dog food and her meds

2. Open the door to the bedroom where she's fast asleep and let her know... it. is. time.

3. Put her collar and leash on while she devours her food

4. Get bundled up to face this insane cold front and nasty black snow ice

5. Immediately upon her finishing eating, run her down the stairs, I mean run...bust the door open just in time for her to piss all over the sidewalk. And really hope no innocent passer-by happens to be in front of that door when we come crashing through. Then head to one of 3 small patches of grass along the street for her to finish it out, pick it up, drop it off at the trash and head either around the block if she's feeling sprightly or right back upstairs for her to nap. Or pace. Or rush back to lick the last drops out of her bowl. Oh Princess Brandywine Humperdink. We do love you so but you are hard work too.

Ok, now we can leave.

Once at class, I realized that it was parent in the class day. Good thing I'm so on top of that... my phone is full so I can't even get video of the adorableness of the plies and tondeaus... good job mom. But I do snap an amazing pic of her full of the wonder and excitement of a lil big girl just running around a room to music with a scarf trailing behind her. Full on happy face. And every time she came my way, the smile widened. Joy in my heart. Full on joy.

Can't get happier than this face.

Anyway, now it's 10:20am and we head home and then it's time to nurse the babe again... actually past time. So then there was that and then he was having some fun tummy time... until he wasn't. Back to the rocking for naptime. It took a while but he finally went down... the girl on the other hand just wasn't having the sleep thing. This day. Of all days. The one where I was so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open. So we started painting hearts in prep for our handmade valentines we've been working on for weeks. This year is a pop up card. One for each kid in her class. That's at least 20. We are at 4 completed so far. Good thing it's not February yet. We are slow moving. Usually, you can't get her to stop painting. Today I made the mistake of turning on the Disney channel on Pandora so she could listen to some of her new favorite princess songs.. only she didn't get that they were just songs and was totally distracted by the album cover images that pop up with each new song. We had to have extensive discussions on each song. Who is this and what did they say and why did the witch pretend to be her mommy? The witch mommy. Hmmm. Is there an underlying message for me here...?? And so only 3 hearts got painted. And my patience was waning. She was super crabby so we had to make the nap happen. Oh wait, there was lunch prep in there too. And the daily struggle to get her to eat it. And turning off the music. That was another good moment.

Peaceful and beautiful. Sometimes when they are sleeping my heart fills up with so much gratitude for having them near.

Whew, finally she's done with milk and books and in bed... singing. This is the time of day that I have sectioned out to catch up on some things I've neglected like choosing the images to be printed by the photographer that took pics of the baby when he was 20 days old. He is now almost 7 months. Yep. I'm that client. And the rug needs to be replaced. I have the new one. It's been rolled up leaning on the wall in the kitchen for over a week. And the hubs is ready to help with all of it. Even energetic to do it, I'd say. But all I can do is say I need a nap. I fall asleep on the couch for the entire time the kids sleep! What?! OH. NO. But I didn't even write a blog entry. How did I do this?! What is wrong with me?! Why am I still exhausted?!

I wake up and go tend to the girl, then feed the babe again. I check my email on my phone and realize that the woman off the listserve who has some formula from Germany that I want to try for my son's sensitive tummy has replied that she is home all afternoon for me to come pick it up. It is now 5:45 pm. I missed that window. I quickly attempt a response but the infant decides my iphone is better used for teething purposes. I get a few lines out to her admitting that I just plain fell asleep. By 6pm everyone is in full chaos and she responds that they will be there until 7pm if I want to swing by. I do! I'm on my way... oh wait. The Brandywine is pacing and needs to eat and go out. Here we go again. and little sassy pants daughter of mine is asking for popcorn. Dad says, "Oh yeah, I did promise that" I say, "We don't have any popcorn to make" Tantrum ensues.

I say I will go to the store to get some. Sassy pants says she wants to join me. I say not this time. Tantrum ensues.

I make it to pick up this formula at 6:55. I double park and hope for the best. Then off to find popcorn. Back home by 7:45. I walk in the front door and the girl screams, "Mooooommmmmyyyyyyy.... did you get popcorn?!" Pop that, make dinner, fight over her eating it, prep bottle for babe, change him into jammies, sleep sack, nurse him, supplement with a bottle, back to the figure eight position... almost there. In the home stretch, he's drifting off... and here goes the arching back, wailing and general unruliness. Are you F-ing serious? What happened here? I struggle for a while. I close my eyes and float. I sing a soft lullaby. I kiss his forehead, I lightly rub his face and sprinkle fairy dust on his sweet cheeks. Nothing works. He is really, really unhappy. I give up and hand him off to the hubby once again. I'm having a really off day. But this means it's to work negotiating bedtime with the girl. 30 minutes later I give up and decide maybe hubs and I can switch again... but he's almost got the little one to sleep so I have to go back in there... I do. It doesn't go well. She wins and I run out of there declaring that I can't seem to put anyone to sleep and the hubs takes over. I think he thinks I might have a nervous breakdown. Thirty minutes later he emerges and she is asleep. We are at 10pm now. I could write a blog post. I could choose the images. Hell, I could even move the furniture and switch out the rug. But I don't do any of these things. Instead I reach my hand in an open bag of dark chocolate covered acai blueberries, plop down on the couch and settle in to watch the finale of season 4 Breaking Bad. Yep. And it was good. Real good. So good I forgot to do my breast pumping while it was playing and had to stay up later to make that happen. Yay me!

Then I tiptoed into my room, climbed in at the foot of the bed so as not to disturb lil dude. Set my alarm, crossed my fingers everyone was going to stay asleep until the alarm blared and slept like a baby.

Peace out mofos!

That's my story. That's my excuse. Everyone's got something to do so I'm not different. But basically the tough lovers are just saying... yeah, we are all busy. But you can find a way. Or if not, you are getting something out of not doing it. Like writing it all here. Am I hoping for sympathy? Empathy? Connection? Do I want to come off as a hero or martyr...? Dunno. I think I just want to get it out to process it and figure out where I can shift time. And also to just write it down and remember what that day was like. Because it won't always be like this. My kids will grow up. They will feed themselves and go to sleep without me and even drive to get their own popcorn someday. I think that day will be both amazing and sad and so I have to say that even though I am frustrated some days and they don't go how I envision, it's pretty awesome to be here right now. To be needed in this way. To see the smiles on their faces for such little things, the sweetness as they dream, and that they love me enough to show me the worst of them. No filters and games. They believe I can solve whatever is bothering them. That can suck or it can be absolutely amazing. I could have a sad face or I could have a happy face. It's just my choice on how to view it. As simple as that. I get to choose whether to be smiling or frowning. So, it's a hell of a lot more fun to have the happy face. for me. for the kids. for hubby. for sanity.

More window clings. All happy. All good.

beautifully messy

Hello 2014. I'm so happy to meet you and hope we are going to be friends. I've been writing epic emails for years and I'm finally going public. Here's my deal.

I'm just a girl from Kansas living and making things in Brooklyn. Trying to be a creative mom, wife, daughter, friend, entrepreneur and still feel like I've got some sass and my own identity. I love design and color, kids, dogs, whimsy, wit and wonder and try to infuse those into as much of my daily life as possible. That and a lot of sarcasm. Oh and laughter. Lots of laughter rather than tears. That helps. And lists. I LOVE lists. I make lists of lists. It's great. All this while mostly keeping it all together... or at least most things together... ok, I'm happy with just some things together. Ok, not really. I want all things together all the time but that's just unrealistic so I'm trying something new: Letting go of control and needing things to be and look a certain way. I'm just going to enjoy the ride. Being open to success and failure and holding them in the same regard. Being ok with being messy. Out loud. Being openly vulnerable. I hate clutter but I have a ton of it. Visual and mental. There. I said it.

So about this blog. My grandma, Junie Lou (who had 8 kids, yikes!) used the phrase "All Whopper-jawed" to describe when things were off kilter or twisted...somewhat askew in some weird way. As in: when you wake up in the morning and your pajamas are all twisted around and hiked up your leg, the crotch seam of your pants isn't centered on your body yet you've got crazy camel toe and your shirt is so out of whack it's restricting your breathing. You know that situation, right?! Yeah, that's All Whopper-jawed. A little off, a little silly. Kinda sad. Kinda funny. Mildly disturbing if you let it be.

I've come to use this endearing term for just about every situation and phase of my life. I am All Whopper-jawed pretty much indefinitely now that I have 2 kids. Fully infused in the phrase is a heavy dose of love, humor and sarcasm and I think that is the key to an extraordinary life. Not money, not fame but the courage to be real and vulnerable and put it out there. And then laugh at it. Or don't. Just really have that full experience and move on. It's messy and beautiful all at the same time and I work everyday to embrace it. Some days are hilarious. Some are treacherous. Some are truly amazing and others just pass unnoticed. Regardless, they go by really freaking fast. I choose to be present to them all, good and bad. Learn as I go and remember that they happened.

That's the thing with life. It just keeps going until it doesn't. Life with kids is BUSY and FULL ON. And the days get bogged down with getting to this event or making this meal or packing for this trip or this or that or the other... then you look back and say, man I wish I hung out with my mom more or could remember exactly when Tudor took her first step, shoulda written that down. Being present and in that very moment is a huge challenge. Making time for leisure seems like an impossibility. Slowing down is just a gargantuan idea floating out in the "I should do that" clouds. But I should. I need to. So, this year, I will.

It's January 2nd 2014 and this blog is my attempt to capture this year of my life with my kids, husband, friends and family. To slow down and make more moments with all of them. It's a record. Of the things I like and don't like, that are too crazy to dream up but happen, the cute and weird things my 3.5 year old says or amazingly frustrating or enlightening things she does and the next year of completely new things for my 6 month old. It will be all over the place. And that will be ok. Cuz that's me. It's scary but it will all be ok. As Rafiki from the Lion King (one of Tudor's faves) says, "It is time."