Pictures also by Kai.

Newspaper pom-poms made on a rainy day.

And Beach House. Also good for rainy days and/or grumpy days.

A couple of weeks ago, Raya took the most incredible family photos of us. I want to keep the rest of the set under wraps until we gift them to grandparents, but I can’t help posting this outtake. Because it makes me smile.

Dax is dramatically telling us he wants more gumdrops (bribery food) and Ryan is trying to get Kai to stop shooting pretend missiles out of his hand. What tickles me is that we were supposed to be playing with the kids, and trying to make them laugh for the camera.

Over the next few weeks, I am participating in the online Poppy Talk Handmade Market along with dozens of artists, crafters, and designers. Make sure to check it out — it’s a great way to get some Christmas shopping done in one place for one-of-kind items by independent artists.

In other news, I am hurting to do some Christmas crafting but must tackle an amazing load of freelance work right now. A blessing, really, but life suddenly got exponentially busier. Paper chains, advent calendars, and pipe-cleaner garlands, I will get to you I will.

And lastly, Dax ate his very first (vegan) cupcake a couple weeks ago. Poor child of mine. Never knew what he was missing, and it showed when he went for seconds and thirds. He is his mother’s son.

Kai’s mood as of late has been feisty. Just like his artwork. Very feisty. Yet festive.

I kiss his cheeks and smoosh his toes to my face probably ten times a day. It usually ends with him slapping or kicking me in the face.

Isn’t it funny how prep for a craft usually takes much longer than the actual craft itself? Even if Kai prefers to smear paint everywhere and inevitably takes off to play with cars or Star Wars Legos, I still enjoy myself.

In case you try this: 1) Acrylic paint works much better than tempera, and 2) You get a better print if you lightly dab the paint onto the potato using your fingertip instead of dipping it into the paint. Happy printing!

This morning, as Kai was walking — correction, running — around the house, a fridge magnet, that was for some reason on the ground, got stuck to his foot. He exclaimed to me “Mom, I’m made out of metal!” I love his funny observations and his innocent view on how the world works. It’s moments like these that lighten up my otherwise stressful and harried life.

This week in particular has been particularly trying, and if it were made into a movie, I’d title it Damages. Kai’s proficiency in the use of scissors has been evident in the drapes, the living room sofa, and Ryan’s keyboard cover. When asked as to the location of the offending scissors, Kai explained that a magician used his magic wand to make them disappear. Amusing.

Sweet little Dax is our indoor hurricane. Aside from his usual hobby of pulling things out of drawers and knocking down all the books, he broke two of my terra cotta pots (soil, everywhere), and is fond of picking away at the wall paint that Kai had previously punched a hole into with my craft hammer. You may be wondering where am I during all this destruction. Maybe the bathroom. Maybe putting clothes away. But it’s very likely I was at the washing machine, throwing in yet another load of soaked bedding, as bed-wetting has been a recent problem with Kai. Between the destruction, the bickering, the rapid-fire questioning (Kai), the teething and subsequent crying (Dax), I am just beat at the end of the day.

Anyways, I didn’t mean for this to be such a long-winded “woe is me” post. But it feels therapeutic to complain a little bit instead of trying to keep my game-face on all the time. I love my boys dearly and I love that they’re still little enough to cuddle and kiss and are easily tickled. But I look forward to the day I can order them to scrub the shower and wash their own dishes.

This evening, the kids didn’t mind too much being dragged around numerous thrift stores, picking up some Holga film, and searching up and down Main Street for my friend Angela because I had forgotten my phone at home. An Auto Trader mag kept Dax busy most of the time. Cars? Boy? Yes, that makes sense.

And the uber-hipster mega-chain has landed in downtown Ventura, following on the heels of American Apparel, which makes me think Anthropologie won’t be too far behind. And as much as I love these stores, especially Urban O, contrived coolness and all, it’s very sad to see all the little boutiques and antique shops slowly going out of business. Such is the evolution of quaint Southern California downtowns.

My kids must have found out that I’m easily scared, because they collaborated on this little photo shoot and left the images for me to find on my camera.

Over the course of my lifetime, I’ve been scarred by those who I trust most. Everyone from my mom, who claimed that as a child, ghost fingers would grab at her and try to pull her under the bed in the middle of the night, to my best cousin, who swore that bloody Mary visited her in the bathroom numerous times. Even aunts and uncles would tell me stories about legless demons they saw floating around in the Philippines, and also about their supernatural experiences with Ouija boards. Oh, almost forgot about The Hand. Sometimes when I got into trouble, my family thought it’d be funny to tell me that The Hand was going to come out of the dresser and get me. See? You’d be scarred, too. Unless, all families did this?

But now that I’m seasoned and matured, I believed I had left all those fears behind. I do hide behind my hands during some intense scenes during Lost, but with it and all the rest of my silly childhood memories, I can laugh it off and rationalize that it’s not real and to just calm down already. But I forgot that I have two boys. Therefore, I can expect a lifetime of them scaring the _____ out of me.

A friend of mine recently shared a tip from Dr. Sear’s The Discipline Book that uses a ticket reward system for young children, as an alternative to a star chart. Our method differs a little from Dr. Sears’ in that we use the tickets in conjunction with 1-2-3 Magic, and Kai’s ultimate goal is to have three tickets at dinnertime, but I think it’s working. Score 1 for mom! (Or -1 for that awful run-on sentence.)

I designed these with our objective of three in mind, but if you’re interested in downloading what Kai dubbed ‘Happy Tickets’ click here for the PDF file.

I’m just the pixel-pusher that puts the two together.

We visited the LA Renegade Craft Fair, and went through as *slowly* as the boys allowed. In other words, Dax’s mini tantrums and signature back-arching move kept us from staying at one booth longer than two minutes. Kai did just fine. Which is great, since he better get used to being dragged around places that involve the words ‘handmade,’ ‘arts,’ and ‘crafts.’ Many more years of that to come, kids. (But I will buy you ice cream, promise.)

Artists that I liked:

Illustrator Caitlin Kuhwald

Wood block prints by Tugboat Printshop
(Saw the three individual, hand-carved wood blocks used
for the three-color crab print above. It was really amazing.)

Berkeley Illustration

I am suprised at how many of my friends LOVE the June gloom characteristic of this part of Cali. But me, it puts me in such a weird state. I lose all sense of motivation and just want to rot on the couch while popping bon bons and watching soaps. Not possible with two boys, BTW. And I’ve sworn of off soaps since my Passions kick in college. Ew!

But today was sunny and all sorts of oceany breezy. “Just like San Luis!” Ryan and I would observe, and nod in agreement (if you’ve ever lived in San Luis Obispo, you would forever use the climate there as a measure of perfect weather and act as if you’re an expert on what is a suitable ratio of clouds to blue sky to ocean breeze).

We played in LA, going for a train ride in Griffith Park and stopping in Beverly Hills for Sprinkles cupcakes. Finally. I can join the club and never have to hear “What?! You’ve never had Sprinkles?” Now I get to do that to people. Because it’s good. The frosting is a little much for me, but the cupcake as a whole. I approve.

So now that I’ve tried Sprinkles, where to next?

Further showing off some handmade goods, since I’ve nothing better to do this fine Sunday afternoon. I ought to be sleeping with the rest of the household, but Ryan’s beastly snores have caused me to flee the bedroom into the comforting arms of my second lover, the computer.

Another stab-bound card, this time for Father’s Day. A last minute idea inspired by my three-year-old’s persistent, “go get ‘em!” attitude. If I continue to use Kai’s soundbites as greeting card material, my next one will read “I’m going to kill you!” In all-caps. Blazing red. Superimposed on top of a photograph of someone to be revered and respected, like the Pope. (And there was some dispute today on whether he said “kill” or “shoot.” It was indeed “kill.” And it was said very loud during a very quiet sacrament meeting.)

I think I sound grumpy, so I should attempt a nap again, or bake some cookies.

And nail polish color of the week is purple.

{Headband pic by sis-in-law Anna}

Tripping over toys is made OK by hot pink toenails.

{Pic by Anna}

2 years and another child later, Ryan is still the biggest goofball dad.

{Kai Bug, 06}

{Dax Bear, 09}

And two years later, I still get freaked out when dad jumps over the babies.