Gnumoon's Stuff

Into the Woods

We have been doing some hiking this week, with Pooks in the Kelty backpack, and she loves her view from the top. She also loves to do some hair-pulling and head-smacking, followed by peals of giggles.
This picture may look like the deep jungle, but in fact it is our back yard. We prefer our neighbors to be furry, slithering, or otherwise non-human. They are less likely to whine about our noise level that way.

Since it's finally nice out and we live in a gorgeous place, we haven't been spending much time indoors these days. Which is great- great for exercise and learning, but also for introducing me to a whole new batch of mom worries I'd not previously considered.
The "what-ifs"  of the Great Outdoors. (Those of you who have visited us probably laugh at that, since we live basically in the middle of nowhere, but the fact is that we have rarely strayed from the yard and deck with Pooks. It was just too much effort and there was too much other fun stuff to do without wearing boots and basting ourselves with Deep Woods OFF.)

What if she gets lost? What if we run across a bear? What if I am out with her and get bitten by a rattlesnake?

Then I say to myself, "No, no. You are being so silly! She wouldn't get lost!"

And then yesterday, some kids were hiking with their parents in the Pisgah forest, near here, and got lost. 6 and 4 years old, slightly out of their parents' eyesight, and GONE. The Amber Alert went out this morning.

Amazingly, they were found safe and alive. They have wandered off-trail, for over a mile, and spent the night (it was cold too - in the 40's), huddled together in the dark woods before they were rescued around noon today.

Was it bad parenting? I'm not the one to say - I know that accidents happen, especially if you think "That will never happen." So how do I react? It has made me start thinking I should move up my "outdoor safely" timeline some. Pooks is a smart kid - if I could turn some tips into a game, it might make her happy enough to learn things. Things that are on my list (some for now for Pooks, some for later. They are good tips for you as well):
- CALL BACK - If you hear mommy call to you, call back.
- HUG A TREE - If you realize you are lost, go to the nearest tree and STAY THERE.
- GET A WHISTLE - I plan to equip Pooks with a lifeguard whistle as soon as I think she won't just blast our eardrums out with it at every opportunity.

and of course it goes without saying (or it should) for parents to keep kids in their sightline at ALL TIMES in the woods. Mostly it's all safe, but there ARE bears and snakes and bug and beasties. Always, always better safe than sorry.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a toddler to go bear hug.

Princess Willowcrown Dirtyfeet photographs her uncle

Despite the overexposed sky and lack of proper fill-flash, this isn't a bad first attempt at photography for a 2-year old.

Potty Training woes

I've been wanting, then not wanting, to write about our Adventures in Potty Training. I do want to write because some of it is hilarious, but I don't want to write about it because, well, it's poop. I've long since alienated any readers I had who were here for non-kid stuff (even had one block me on Twitter, I assume so they could talk shit about me and my damn dirty breeder ways), so I suppose I could just go for it.
For today, I think I'll just post this awesome, awesome video from Japan on the subject:


Oh, and as promised, here is my current song:
Let it Ride - Ryan Adams (This isn't the same song as the BTO one of the same name)
Tennessee's a sister to my brother Carolina, where they gonna bury me?

Octocake: The Revenge

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Here is the finished & assembled octocake, with little baby octocuppies swimming around it. And yes, I finally got the fondant sailor hat to work. It just took some toothpicks and carefully-chosen threatening swears.

The shower was great, the mother-to-be was glowing, and a good time was had.  Unfortunately, today Pooks got sick, so I haven't had a chance to edit any photos or post anything of substance. It's 1:00 am now, so I doubt that any writeup I did at the moment would be meaningful. Maybe tomorrow.

Two Years ago

*note to those who read my blog yet hate kids - might want to skip this one. It's heavy on da schmoopy.

** Last night after I posted that blog, I'd gotten into bed and not five minutes later I heard the awful sounds of vomiting over the monitor, thus beginning an 8-hour shift of crying, not sleeping, and more vomiting. There is nothing worse than seeing your child suffer and not being able to help at all. Doing 3 loads of laundry at 4am is also not fun. She is much improved today.

******

This time 2 years ago (12:14 am) I was in the shower, shaving. I have no idea why I was doing this - some part of me had to have some control perhaps. Amazingly, at that point I still thought I would give a shit about ANYTHING once the time came (which I didn't, the least of all whether or not my legs were prickly). The truth is I was too nervous and scared to sleep, because I had to go to the hospital at 4:00 am to be induced so we could get the Pooks from the Inside to the Outside. (Note to preggos: avoid induction if at all possible. I have many reasons to say this. Trust me when I say pitocin is no friend of yours.)

 I remember sleeping a little bit, then getting up and leaving, saying goodbye to my brothers who had come to stay with us an offer support (they were still awake, playing video games in the living room). We went to Harris Teeter and sat in the car eating donuts and drinking orange juice from little plastic jugs. We sat in the car in the dark in nervous silence and then went on to the hospital. I remember looking up at the sky as we walked into the admissions office, clutching my body pillow and thinking how different the world would be the next time I stepped out into it.

And it was.

Two years. Two years of laughter and tears and happy screeches and sad vomit. Two years of new things. Two years of exhaustion and elation. My little baby isn't a baby anymore, she's a little girl. And the world is so much more exciting and hopeful and scary through her eyes.

I am so proud of her intelligence, of her adventurous spirit, of her sense of humor and timing. I can't take credit for these things, of course, they are just who she is. So maybe "proud" isn't the right word - I am honored to be her mother, her steward, her guide. (I am trying really hard not to screw up in these endeavors, and it is my biggest fear that I will)

My heart almost bursts when she gives me a "runnyhug" (a run-and-hug) and throws those little chubby arms around my neck, proclaiming "I yuv-ooh, mommee!"
I just can't imagine a more simple, perfect love than that.

I could write on and on about this kid and how much our lives were lacking her unbridled joy and enthusiam before two years ago, but I think I'll just end by saying "Happy Birthday, my Pookiebear. I yuv-ooh so much."

ps- Yes, I'm aware that nearly all parents feel this way about their children, and that my child is not *technically* the brightest, funnest kid ever devised. But that's how it's supposed to be - parents love their kids and love to be around them. It's nothing more complicated than that.

pss - My grandmother was concerned about my last post. Not because I confessed to wanting to sex up a pop star when I was a teenager, but because I misspelled "cantaloupe." She pointed out that I'd once also misspelled "avocado" when typing out a salsa recipe. So, to those of you playing the home game, once you get your "proper fruit spellings" homework finished and turned in, you are free run along and be a groupie.
(Note to Grandma: I yuv-ooh lots. I sometimes also misspell "pomegranate." I just thought you should know.)

Atlanta and The Call of Cakethulhu

I've been meaning (as usual) to post about life, but life has managed to keep me from doing so.

The trip to Atlanta was a hoot. We went with some good friends to Buckhead for a few days, and watched some baseball, went to a New Kids on the Block concert (hell yes we did!), were almost drowned at said concert, and then the next day gave our hangovers the finger and went to Six Flags to ride roller coasters all day. The guys opted for more baseball instead of the concert - can't imagine why.
Drowndeded rats over there --->
The monsoon at the NKOTB show was faily amazing. We were all standing in line to get into the venue, minding our own beeswax, when the skies just opened up and pissed down rain for the next, oh, five hours or so. We took refuge under a radio station tent for a while, but then just said the hell with it and went on out, fording the 2-feet deep rivers of water that blocked our entrance to the amphitheater. We sat politely during performances by the Jabbawokeez (who? exactly.) and some kid who wasn't a Jonas brother, but sort of looked like one (full disclosure: I was horrified to discover I actually knew one of his songs enough to sort of sing along to the chorus).

But then the real show started, and let me tell you, it was like Magic Summer Tour all over again, except this time my skin was considerably clearer (and I have more or less given up on that dream of losing my virginity to Jordan Knight on a yacht). Apparently this version was something called the Full Service tour, with some new songs (yawn) to go along with it, but they quickly abandonded that to get back to what we were all there for: Step By Step and Popsicle. Poor Joey. He'll always be 14 to us, singing the ultimate teen bubblegum song. That will be on his tombstone: "Did some other things, but mostly sang Jackson-Five-style on "Popsicle."
K & N were both there to see Joey, and I was really hoping for some hair-pulling and spitting over him, but alas, they are both "grown ups" and simply commented that he was still cute. Bor-ring.
Good times, good times. Remind me to tell you about my t-shirt, because it's a post in itself, girl.

Quick thoughts on Six Flags - perhaps it's because I had just gone to Disney, but SF is ... lacking. And the fact that the bored-looking ride operators all have that "high school dropout who just doesn't give a shit" air about them doesn't help matters. Please, yawning pimply-faced attendant, quit barking into your Blackberry long enough to make sure my harness is locked into position before you push that red button and shoot me into the stratosphere.

It's no Cedar Point, but they do have some decent coasters there - to ride: Superman, Batman: The Ride, and Goliath. To Skip: Mindbender and The Ninja (unless you like to get your teeth shaken out on what was surely the prototype for all steel coasters back in the day). <- Over there is a picture of Harkey feeling up the ninja statue. We're classy like that.

Also, Six Flags is fantastic for people-watching. Let's be nice and just say there is a marked difference in clientele a $100 ticket (Disney) and a $30 ticket (SF) attracts.

Which brings us to today and Cakethuthu.

My hetero lifemate, LAO'D-G (she's a Klingon), is having a baby. And I am co-hosting a shower for her with our high school buddy. This shower is to be on Saturday. The other hostess said, "You like to make those cake, so you do that." No problem. I was going to whip up one with the bear pan, and be done with it. But then that seemed boring, and let's be honest, it has never *quite* worked. So when LAO'D-G mentioned that her nursery theme was ocean creatures, I jumped on it. Of course! I'll make an adorable anthropomorphic octopus like the one in the bedding set!

How does one go about such a thing? I don't know about normal people, but I tend to go the "make it all up and see what happens" route. So here is a little preview of how it's going...
I'll scan the "inspiration sketch" I drew later, so you can see where it started and where it ended.

Basically, it's a 2- layer german chocolate cake, with blue icing (looks like waves, y'know?) and the octopus emerging gleefully from within to welcome the new bairn. The original idea had him holding pacis and rattles and whatnot in each tentacle, but at this point that's out.
I made him out of, what else, rice krispie treat (dyed the same color as he is, which is a bluegreen):

Then, after lubing up my hands generously with Blue Bonnet, I sculpted his arms and head:

And my awesome awesome husband helped me tint 10 freaking pounds of fondant bluegreen. It's much harder than you'd think to do.

The fondant was measured, cut and rolled out, then individually applied to each tentacle. the tentacles were prepped with buttercream icing as glue for the fondant (I have diabetes by osmosis now, btw).

By the end of the first night, the whole thing was terrifying. It looked like Cthulhu. She may have a Klingon name, but LAO'D-G isn't a Lovecraft fan. More cute, less horror.

For cutening purposes, fondant way dyed purple for the application of the suction cups. The cherry is there to show scale. I cut those damn things out with a straw. the suction cups were then applied (again, icing as glue) to the tentacles.


And what says "Baby shower-topus" more than a cute little face carved out of fondant with an exacto knife?

Which was then applied to the waiting, fondanted head. I don't have a cherry here for scale, but it's a little bit smaller than a canteloupe:

So that's where we are, 2 days and 9 hours or so into the project. the cake will be baked Friday so they are nice and fresh, and the whole thing will be assembled at the shower. Nothing like *hoping* it will all go smoothly. Oh well. Even if it looks awful, the cakes will taste good.

And did I mention I'm working on a sailor hat for him too? I think it will look dapper and jaunty, things expectant mothers look for in confectionry.

*****
Current music: Someone mentioned that not only was I not blogging much, but that I'd abandoned my "what's playing" section. Fine, fine ... it's Poker Face, OK? Are you happy? I can't resist a poppy little beat. And I am a sucker for british pop. A good deal of this cake was assembled while dancing around my kitchen to Robbie Williams and Rock DJ. (That video is awesome, but it may be NSFW? He pulls his butt off. Ya Rly.)

Saving the world from evil, one stuffed animal at a time

BlueRidgeBlog was commenting today that the proper application of Lightroom and magic can make the most mediocre photographer look pro. And she's completely right. The following shot is much cooler given a little tappy-tap tap and shake of pixel-dust from the NIK wand:

Girl, don't act like you're not jealous, girl.

Who needs TV?

I am quite happy to report that the aquatic octet are still alive and swimming. We are currently the keepers of: 4 blackskirt tetras ("backsuh tet-RUHH," in Pookiespeak), 2 Cory cats ("CATS? CATS? FISH!"), one curmudgeonly tiger pleco (Pooks has no name for it, it never comes out from under the rocks during the day, and one little blue neon tetra ("Dat CUTE LEETLE TINY FEEESH!").

I want to add more to the school, but I'm so pleased with the little ecosystem we have going now, and I'm afraid any change might cause irreparable damage. Perhaps more neons?

He's all, " 'sup?"

We had a lovely, if tiring, weekend full of all kinds of summery activities. My cousin has come to stay with us for a bit, so she's adjusting to the constant questioning and incessant chatter of the Pooks ... "Hi Rachel! RACHEL ! RACHEL ! RACHEL! HI!" 

Oops, more later - brb.