Holy Sexism Flashbacks Batman

Today I was at school to pick up my daughter, who is in kindergarten. She is on the cheer leading team at her school. The team includes kids from kindergarten through senior year of high school. My daughter LOVES it. She loves hanging out with the older girls, she loves dancing, she generally loves being super amazing and yelling. "GO COUGARS!" a lot, and spelling all the letters in the cheers wrong, because she's in kindergarten, which is hilarious.

I got there a little bit early so I could try to learn some of the cheers (and what some of the words are supposed to be, turns out t-t-c-c-k-k is supposed to be a-t-t-a-c-k), and she had asked me to. I watched the girls (and one boy!) dance and clap and yell. They were all wearing shorts and t-shirts, some with tank tops, and I saw one girl wearing a leotard. I remember thinking that was a good idea. It's 100 degrees Fahrenheit out here in Phoenix. I thought, what a good idea, my girl has one left over from dance, and it would be easy to just pack one thing for her to change into instead of shorts and a t-shirt (less things to get lost).

After practice was over the kids scattered to various sides of the courtyard to get their backpacks, and as I was collecting my 3 littles, I overheard a woman shaming the 6 year old in the leotard. She was explaining to her that the leotard was immodest, and that she shouldn't be wearing it to school, because it was essentially just a bathing suit and girls shouldn't wear things like that to school. First of all, the girl is 6, so probably not involved in the choosing of her after school outfit, or if she was, it was certainly approved by her parents, because they probably put it her her bag. Second of all it's not like it was a string bikini, it was obviously a dance or gymnastics leotard with a very fluttery pink skirt. The girl just looked confused. This was a PARENT, mind you, talking to a CHILD that was not hers.  I thought it might be a coach or a teacher but after looking up every faculty member it looks like this woman has just appointed herself modesty coach and is critiquing everything people are wearing (which makes me think my daughter coming home saying she couldn't wear her tank top anymore because her nipple might show might not have come from another girl, but actually this crazy lady policing our kinders.).

Now let's just examine the ridiculousness of this. Tomorrow, all 40 of these girls will be cheer leading, and turning flips and cartwheels in skirts that come down to mid thigh, and skin tight v neck shirts, in front of a whole stadium of people, with what can only be called underpants underneath, their only saving grace that they are the same color as the cheer uniform. Somehow this is okay, but that poor little girls leotard is not?

This whole incident reminds me of the time I was reading at church when I was 13. I was wearing a long suede skirt that my aunt had given me, with a white, loose fitting white blouse that tucked into it. There skirt was ankle length and slit up to my knee (so I could WALK), but not mid-thigh. I was probably wearing flats, because I had to climb stairs, and I can still barely walk in heels. I had spent 5 or 10 minutes before mass in the back with the priest, my parents had driven me to church, and there was no question about my outfit being appropriate. After doing the readings during mass, an older woman waited until I was separated from my family and  approached me in the lobby of the church, she grabbed me by my upper arm and leaned in to whisper in my ear that I was a hussy and the reason that men cheated on their wives. I'm not sure what was going on in that woman's life, but I was all of 13 years old, a very young and sheltered 13, and certainly not in anyway TRYING to get her husband to cheat on her with anyone. I was horrified and as soon as I got into the car with my family I burst into tears. That woman BULLIED me. At least I was 13, not 6.

You bet your ass that mother who told that 6 year old not to wear her leotard again wouldn't have the guts to say that to that kids mom.

I am so tired, as a woman, for being in charge of what other people think based on what I wear. Here's a good article about not playing into the narrative that men can't control themselves. My husband certainly can, and I know he's amazing, but not because he can't keep his hands off random women in leotards. There are good guys out there, and that means the sleazy ones should be held to a higher standard.

https://weareezer.com/2017/06/26/i-dont-accommodate-uncontrolled-men/

This article specifically addresses what I'm desperate for my daughter NOT to pick up from her Christian school:

http://pinkskyserendipity.com/the-day-i-learned-men-cannot-control-themselves/#sthash.TcTYM4x6.dpbs


And just to re-emphasize the ridiculousness of the shit we, as women, are asked to accept regularly
Sarah Silverman posted this on twitter 2 years ago, It made a lot of guys angry, because they're not just wandering around thinking about raping us all the time... but isn't that sort of what we've been taught? Boys will be boys har har har.

The Theft of Memory

 

The Theft of Memory immediately draws you in. Jonathan Kozol writes of losing both of his parents over a period of many years. His father is a specialist in brain disorders with an impressive career, and he is an award winning writer and teacher.

The Theft of Memory meanders through the stories of both men's lives, mirroring the tricky way the brain tends to remember things. The book does not follow a chronological order, but instead touches on different events as they are remembered. He examines different aspects of his father's life as it relates to him, his mother, and his father's care givers at the end of his father's life. He does a wonderful job of showing the joy is father still experiences in life even as the memory of who he was is fading.

Jonathan addresses the difficulty in finding excellent medial care, and how hard it is to make the decisions facing many people caring for aging parents. Should a parent go into an assisted living facility? Is now the time to sign a DNR (do not resuscitate)? Can a parent be cared for at home?  What happens when the money runs out?

This is a story about the complicated relationship between parents and children, and how no matter how long and full a life is, the difficulty in letting go. I would recommend this book to anyone with aging parents.

The Measure of a Mountain

I just finished reading The Measure of a Mountain: Beauty and Terror on Mount Ranier by Bruce Barcott.

It was recommended by the library for my interest in something else. I was really drawn into it. The book was super packed with tons of information about bugs that can only live at freezing temperatures and mountain climbing accidents, and plane crashes, and feelings.

I read all the time, and I can honestly say this is the first book I have really wanted to recommend to everyone that I've come across in a long while. It reminded me of Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, except with mountain climbing, so better (Sorry Annie, you're thread worm was pretty cool, but it's no match for altitude sickness at the top of Everest).

So you should read it. For the funs. Don't buy it, though. Get it from the library for free:)

Wow, this day

Late last night I got a text from a friend, letting me know that she was heading to the Children's Museum with her kid this morning and wondering if I wanted to join her. We were going to head to the library, but I thought for once it would be nice to be one of those moms that actually meets other moms and enjoys herself...you know, visiting with other moms. 

I don't know why I thought that would work. First, my children are overtired. Super overtired. Their grandparents were headed out of town for the week, so that meant they wanted to spend every spare moment with the kids before they left. Good in theory, as I got some time to work around the house. Bad for bedtime routines and basically any sort of routines, which wreaks havoc on my kids' sleep schedule.I am "blessed" with children that wake up at 5:30 am no matter what time they go to sleep. They also seem to sleep worse the less sleep they get, so, they were up about 15 times in the night for various reasons, and still awake at 5:30 am. 

I considered aborting the museum mission at 4:30 am while I was nursing the youngest and Stinko was yelling for oatmeal from the kitchen. Ever optimistic, I arose with a smile, and after 2 cups of coffee was feeling like I could pull it off. 

It took 2 hours to get my 4 year old to put on her shoes.

I had to change the 2 year old's shirt twice because he kept going outside and playing with the hose.

The baby was good, but by the time we finally got all loaded up, he screamed the whole way because he was hungry again.

While at the museum, my kids flat out refused to play with my friend's kids, and instead insisted on playing with all of the things we already have at home. They played with Play dough for 45 minutes! They made things out of pipe cleaners. Stinko clocked Chompy upside the head with a golf ball. 

We spent an hour in the bathroom washing our hands. I exchanged maybe 3 words with my friend aver the sound of my infant screaming his head off.

I suddenly realized that I needed to get them out of there as soon as possible to avoid any injuries, Chompy laid down on the ground and kicked and screamed. She threw such an epic fit that another mom THAT I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW handed her baby off to her husband and offered to help me get my kids to the car. I truly appreciated it, and should have taken her up on it, but I was too embarrassed.

We made it home and had a quick lunch, and I believed, mistakenly, that they would take naps easily because they are so very very tired. While I was nursing Doomibear, Stinko managed to find a bottle of blue nail  polish. He painted himself, he painted the carpet. He climbed into my bed to "snuggle" and painted the king sized sheet with the nail polish on his leg. Now Chompy has been yelling at me for 10 minute to open her door. It's shut because she just got in trouble for trying to take every blanket out of the linen closet and put it on her bed. It's 110 degrees here. She doesn't need any more blankets. 

It's only 2 pm. I'm going to go on a road trip to Ohio with these kids in a week??? I'm exhausted already.

So's Doomi:

So...I haven't blogged in a while.
Why not, you ask? I got discouraged, I got busy, I picked up more hours at the hospital lab.

I had a baby!
That last one was the hardest one. Lots of people are really good at being pregnant. I am actually really bad at being pregnant. Good at rock climbing, check. Good at running super long distances, check. Good with animals, check. pregnancy is my kryptonite

Lot's of people glow. They spend their time exercising vigorously: going on hikes, jogging, dead lifting. I'm pretty sure the only exercise I did was run to the bathroom in time to throw up. I basically spent my time sleeping for 12 hours a day and puking for the other 12. I sucked at pregnancy the first time, and I sucked at it the third time, too. In fact, if it's possible, I think I get worse at pregnancy every time.

And if that wasn't enough, I can't even manage to push the baby out at the end. My first baby: 24 hours of labor, no progress, c-section. Second baby: 36 hours of labor, head stuck in the birth canal, c-section. Third baby: I didn't even try. C-section.

Luckily I get a cute little magic fat baby at the end. Another little werebear-doomicorn hybrid
AKA a doomibear to eat all my food and make me poor.

But I'm back at it! I got to exercise my smarts so I don't lose my mind!
Also, Phoenix is still rad. It's hot, and rad. HOTRAD.

We're also going on a road trip with toddler, which I am going to intensely blog about. In order to save my sanity.

I'm a Superfresh Candypants Sugarblossom

So I'm going to be lazy today, because I just worked the overnight shift, and I gotta be up at 4 am to work the 12 hour day shift tomorrow. Sick people, they need their blood, you know?

But this, this is a beautiful thing. You should go to this website, you should read all of the captions to the pictures, and you should laugh and laugh.

How to Be a Ladyperson During the Holidays

Marginalia

I do this all of the time, much to the chagrin of some of my snobbier reading friends. At least I'm in good company.

http://simplicity.laserfiche.com/content/scribbled-margins-capturing-knowledge-marginalia

Caterpillars that look like bird poop and an osmetarium

We walked out of the house to explore our new neighborhood last Tuesday and I noticed a pile of what appeared to be a giant pile of bird poop on our little lemon tree. I check on it pretty closely, since we're trying to figure out the best place to plant it in our yard, and I'm watching to see if it's getting enough light water, etc.

I was puzzled as to why a bird would get under our eves to somehow manage to poop on our tree, so I leaned over to look up to see if there was a bird's nest above it, or somewhere convenient to perch, and there wasn't. I leaned in and blew on the pile to assess it's wetness for cleaning purposes and out popped the caterpillar's osmeterium, a red fleshy organ apparently only possessed by swallowtail caterpillars. At least I didn't try to flick it off the lemon tree. Now we check on him every day! He grows really fast, we're waiting for him to turn into a chrysalis and then a butterfly!

Here he is with his osmeterium!

And here is 5 days later!

Finally, here's my amazing family feeding the animals on the farm on 15th avenue carrots the day after Thanksgiving!

Melted Computer

So, No post for a while, but not because I've been overly busy, or no more busy than usual. Certainly not for lack of interesting things to post.

We recently melted our computer. Due to a combination of bad choices and, well, just more bad choices, we first drowned our computer in the bathtub and then melted it inside the oven.

More later, my phone is also broken.

Being Ugly

In the United States we live in a society which values the way women  look entirely too much. I'm actually really hard on myself, and I need to remember the amazing things my body has done.

My body has done wonderful things. It took me to the bottom of the Grand Canyon (and back, which was in doubt for a few miles there). It's run two marathons. It's recovered from 3 concussions. It's grown two marvelous people inside of it. I've put it through two very long labors only to be subjected to two C-sections and it's recovered beautifully. It dances, albeit not very well. It sings. It manages to get up every morning.

I'm so hard on it for not looking like it did 10 years ago, for not being flat where it should be and for being flat where it shouldn't be,  but I should appreciate it for all of the things it still does for me, and for all the experience it's gained thus far. My aches should remind me of all of the things my body has stretched for, my wrinkles the wisdom gained with every new experience.

Here's an interview that Dustin Hoffman did about an epiphany  he had while filming Tootsie.  I think that a lot of men think this way about women, which is unfortunate. I know all of the Mom's I know are doing their best to raise little humans who value women as people first and women second. We also need to start being nicer to ourselves.

Here's why we should be worried about the Ebola Virus

We do have a decent healthcare system in the United States, but if Ebola begins to spread, the health care system will very quickly be overrun.

We don't actually have the resources at 95% of hospitals to deal with an outbreak.

Doctors in the United States are not familiar with Ebola, which is understandable, because they never see it. The symptoms of this disease are very similar to influenza, especially in the beginning phases.

I've been following this outbreak in Africa, and it seemed as though authorities were strangely silent about it in the beginning. I don't think it's some sort of conspiracy, I just think people are in denial about what this disease can do.

We simply don't know enough about it, and the hospitals have no experience dealing with a disease so easily spread and so very deadly.

This disease spreads through contact with bodily fluids, yes, but it doesn't require close contact. It requires exposure to soiled garments, vomit, saliva, breast milk, sweat. Think of all the things you touch every day that have been touched by other people. Duncan did not have to lie about being in contact with an Ebola victim. Honestly, the disease in Africa is spreading so quickly that he could have ridden in a cab someone else had ridden in. He may have used a public restroom immediately after someone infected and shedding the virus.

Our hospital systems will quickly become overwhelmed if there is an outbreak in this country. There really needs to be a global effort to contain and eradicate this virus at it's source. It's not going to stop moving, and it's too hard to isolate everyone in this global society.

This virus kills as many people as the bubonic plague did. We came up with  antibiotics to treat it, finally, but it killed 50-80%  of the people who were infected, just like Ebola.

I don't think we need to be pointing fingers and blaming the Dallas Hospital, I think they did the best they could, but I also think the people at the top of these organizations don't realize how hard it is to get supplies, or the pressure placed upon the staff to do their jobs even when situations aren't ideal. there were a lot of mistakes made, but we need to stop making them. At least now it seems as though the government has a clear plan going forward.

I don't think we should panic, but I also don't think we should stick our heads in the sand.
We really need to focus a bit more on containing this outbreak than on terrorist sects right now. This has the potential to kill so many more of us, just as indiscriminately.

We Should Totally be worried about Ebola

I'm a medical technologist, I've been working in hospitals since I graduated from college 15 years ago. WE SHOULD ABSOLUTELY BE WORRIED ABOUT EBOLA.

Nicolas Cage in Left Behind

The newest version of Left Behind came out in theaters on October 3. So, I've been waiting for this movie to come out since I saw a trailer for it 8 months ago on Reddit. I first thought it was a joke, then determined it was real and desperately wanted to see it.

 The Rapture is a mostly American evangelical Christian belief that Christian believers will be raptured at the end times. From the Latin root raptus, meaning to be carried away.

The history of it is pretty interesting. There's no real definite support for it in the bible. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of stuff about the end times, and some passages about the believers meeting
Jesus in the air, and some other stuff about tribulation...but essentially some different dudes over time have interpreted all these passages to death and decided on their own interpretations. It's a belief that became popular in the late 1700s, early 1800s based on some different guys interpretations of what the bible says. I mean, this is extrapolation of the vaguest kind. Times, times, and half a time (Daniel 7:25) is interpreted as 3 and 1/2 years...um...

If anyone is interested in reading more about what the rapture is, they can check out Wikipedia, which I feel gives a pretty good explanation. It also gives some links to some amazing people, like some guy named Increase Mather, and his son, Cotton. It's no surprise these guys were involved with the Salem witch trials.

There are  also a lot of Christian websites those interested can immerse themselves in, and plenty of people who will spew hate at you for questioning their beliefs in the end times, as well. Anyways, I'm Catholic, so I don't get raptured. I pretty much wind up straight in hell.

 But man oh man, The rapture is the stuff of Hollywood horror. Kids disappearing from their parents, teenager waking up to find their whole families gone. Then, what happens next? Torture for the next seven years.

As a story premise this is BRILLIANT. My husband was terrified when he was a child that everyone he knew would be raptured and he would be left alone. He used to wake up in the middle of the night and check to make sure everyone else was still in bed.

Unfortunately the Christians have yet to use the story gold that history has handed to them. Unable to stop beating the audience to death with their evangelical  message, the story crashes and burns. Sometimes less is more guys. I may not have accepted Jesus into my heart in quite the way you have but I'm not a moron.

I can only assume that editing choices and directing were also dictated by the need to be nice instead of actually telling someone that the choices made were perhaps not the best.

A movie based on the rapture should be like a zombie flick, not really about the zombies, but about what the people do in response to the zombies. How do they react when placed in this confusing/terrifying situation.

Instead we get a nice Muslim man, who isn't saved because he's Muslim (nice isn't enough to get you saved), a dwarf with a lot of issues about being short, and a busy business man who also isn't saved, because he had no time for Jesus or family, oh, yep, and a drug addict, and lots of mom's missing their kids.

My companions giving their best Nic Cage impersonations

There is an HBO show called the leftovers that just came out this year based on the rapture that I'm told might get it right. Looking forward to watching it.

I

Sometimes People are Just Nice

Last Sunday, with my kids in the car, I ran out of gas. I used to run out of gas a lot when I was younger, something about wanting the universe to conform to my needs of buying more cigarettes and not gas, and trying to will my car to continue running on nothing.

It's been a good 10 years I would say, since I ran out of gas. I was on my way to the grocery store to overbuy snacks and things for my kids because we had a new babysitter coming on Monday (and it totally makes me nervous, so I want to make things super easy so the newbie never wants to kill himself throughout the day) and to get money out of the ATM. Luckily I decided to drive up 7th Street instead of getting immediately on the highway. I knew we were relatively low on fuel, but the little orange light had yet to come on, so I thought we were safe, at least until after I had gotten a coffee.

Well, now I know the little orange light is broken.

 We managed to coast to a stop halfway into an empty parking lot. I then managed to push the car by myself all the way into the parking lot, but it was still sitting in the middle of the lane, and no amount of coaxing (or cursing) could get it to move one more inch.

Stinko was screaming his head off, and up stepped my first angel of the day, out on a Sunday morning walking his boxer with his girlfriend, he took a minute to help me shove the car into a parking spot. Hooray! The gas station was only a block and a half away, and I had Eli's little front carrier, so I decided further help was unnecessary. I

 did drastically underestimate the amount of time it would take me to walk a block in a half with a two-year-old, especially when the terrain is riddled with fresh rain puddles. My second angel of the day was the homeless guy who offered to pump the gas into the can so I wouldn't have to lean over with Stinko's legs dangling into the fresh gas stream.

 Finally, a mom of two saw me walking back down the street, Stinko strapped to my front, with Chompy in hand, eating a Spongebob ice cream and still jumping in puddles, and took the time to stop and give us a bottle of water and a couple of pairs of sunglasses, because hey, it gets hot out here in AZ. All of these little acts of kindness helped me weather the storm in good spirits. I know I complain a lot, but sometimes people are so darn nice.

Motherhood Crisis

Yesterday I had a Mom crisis. I took my kids to the Children's Museum of Phoenix. We usually go on Tuesdays, it's right next door and both of the kids really like it. It had cooled off a little bit, meaning it was only 93 degrees instead of 110, and I though they would enjoy getting outside to play on the climbing stuff and the giant colored worm-tube thing they have, especially since lately Chompy is getting really brave about what she can and can't do.

no pants were worn in this picture.

Unfortunately, although Chompy is very interested in climbing, she is not so interested in wearing pants. Sometimes, it's worth the effort to wrangle her into shorts, or pants of some type, and sometimes it's not. She's a pretty headstrong gal, and she can really fight you. I'd already fought with her about toothbrushing, barrettes, biting her brother, throwing things at the cat, and pooping in the bathtub yesterday, so I decided if she didn't want to wear pants, she didn't have to.

I didn't think anyone would care, but as usual I was wrong. We said hi to about 6 different employees on the way in before we made it up to the 2nd floor and outside. I pushed my stroller into the corner and lifted Chompy out and she immediately made a bee-line for the stairs leading down to the play area.

That's when one of the "playologists" (they really call them that, okay? I didn't make it up) approached and asked if my child had pants. I said yes, I have some in my diaper bag, but she doesn't feel like wearing them today! I expected a laugh or an understanding nod, but instead got a rather snooty, "We usually like for children to wear pants." Well, me too, lady, me too, but it just wasn't happening this morning. I just said, "Oh well, I'll try and re-pants the girl later."

Now I can understand if my kid was freezing to death, but it's 95 degrees. I would also understand if she wasn't wearing a diaper because, hello, hygiene. She was wearing a diaper, and pants really served no practical purpose, so aside from it being socially unacceptable, there really was no problem. I'm not a big fan of rules for the sake of rules, or doing something just so it looks a certain way.

I was feeling pretty self righteous about it, too. What right does that lady have to tell me my child has to wear pants if she doesn't want to? There's a whole holiday devoted to not wearing pants. Chompy's just a hipster in the making.

Then it happened. Chompy was playing with a little boy named Max who was about two. They seemed to be having a great time. I was excited because she made a friend and seemed to be having fun. Chompy and Stinko actually have a lot of cousins they get to play with, they just live really far away, and they LOVE other kids. The mom kept trying to get Max to stop playing with Chompy, though. I thought to myself, my gosh, what if it's because my daughter isn't wearing pants. I'm raising a child who won't be able to make any friends because she's too weird and I didn't bother to teach her that she needs to wear pants in public.

The mom finally managed to collect her son and put his shoes back on, which took about twenty minutes, and they disappeared inside. I felt guilty. It started to get too hot to play outside. I wrestled my child into her shoes and up the stairs. After she was worn out, I managed to get her pants on her before she got back into the stroller.

Then I realized that that other mom was also the mother of a two year old, and probably had to fight her own battles, and probably didn't even notice. She was probably thinking, "For God's sake I'm about to pee my pants and it's going to take me twenty minutes to get his shoes on!" I like to think so, anyway.

 Plus, Chompy made friends with another kid wearing a diaper and a Batman cape. The day was a win.

Week 9: Robot Battles!

This idea was pulled from the interwebs about 3 years ago. It was the second  year I was married and my husband and I actually did this one night with dinner guests and it was easy and super fun. I got the idea originally from Red Ted Art.

I modified it for grandparent camp this year a bit, by making it a robot battle. I will say the kids under 3 weren't very interested, but buddy the kids from 3 until 9 were completely into it. The best thing is that the robots were made out of all craft materials and recycled things that Grandmother and Grandpap had on hand. The motors are 1.5-3V hobby motors that cost between 1-2 dollars.

Materials:

Hot glue gun and hot glue

1.5-3v craft motor

1 AA battery

electrical tape or soldering iron

anything you can think of to make a cool robot

We probably should have used the double sided foam they used on Red Ted Art. The vibrations tended to wiggle loose the hot glue pretty quickly, but it worked okay without it.

1. Hot glue the battery to the motor and attach the wires, one to each end of the motor. Make sure the motor spins.

2. Attach  something to unbalance the spinning end of the motor. Each of the kids chose something different. Some used plastic beads, some bits of wire. The point is to unbalance the motor enough so that it vibrates.

3. As soon as you verify that it wiggles, let the creativity begin! The only important part is to make sure the motors end can spin. We attached at least one end of the wire with electrical tape so it could be un-attached to stop the vibrations. Building our robots.

The kids really loved seeing how each of the robots moved, and building something that moved on it's own. Modifications went on and on, and we didn't even get through the battles completely, but I don't think anyone cared.

\

The battle circle. Whoever pushed the other robot entirely out of the circle first won! This was great because it's entirely random, so the littler kids had just as much of a chance of winning as the older kids.

The kids chose so many different materials to build their robots. This one is made out of a toilet paper tube with yarn and pipe cleaners attached.

Pipe cleaners and toothpicks!

The bead attached to the front of this motor is what causes it to vibrate.

This project was fun at our dinner party and fun for the kids. Two AA batteries wired together will allow the motors to spin faster...a 9v battery will burn out the motor pretty quickly, though.

This project was a blast!

Flood in the Desert

So I only work one day a week...okay I should rephrase that to I work one day a week at my easy job and 6 days a week at my hard at home job. We had a massive thunderstorm in the middle of the night. I left 20 minutes early for my shift, knowing that Phoenicians are terrified of wet roads. Seems as though in this case their fears were justified.

This is the I-10 headed west at 43rd Avenue. They closed the highway just in front of me. I watched the police rescue a couple from a baby Toyota.

Week 8: Big Kid Wall Art

When my husband and I rented a house in Baltimore, we really wanted to put some art on the walls that we did ourselves, and we looked into buying canvases. Holy Toledo that stuff is expensive!

For a canvas that is only 2 by 4 feet it costs almost 40 bucks, and that's before you buy anything else, plus, we wanted something bigger.

So, my amazing husband found something better.
Hollow core doors from Home depot. He bought three for 20 bucks a piece. They are super light and easy to hang with a wire and a couple of nails.

They are awesome.
One we used to make our own giant chalkboard to hang on our wall,  and one I painted with Chompy when she was about 8 months old. It's hanging in our living room now above our couch. It looks sort of like an abstract map of the world.

So the other day when Chompy and Stinko were restless, and it was 114 degrees, we decided to break out the last board and give it a go.

Chompy painting when she was Stinko's age now. Home made finger paints.

So in the above picture, notice the chaos is contained. I actually had to coax Chompy onto the board and dip her hands in the paint. She ate some, she crawled through it a couple of times. She enjoyed it. Notice how clean the floor is.

I grossly underestimated the chaos that doing this with two children, one of whom is a human tornado.

It started out pretty well. I had the sense to roll up the carpet at least. I am using washable paints. Stinko is not interested in eating the paint, so that's a plus.

Stinko belly flopped into the paint immediately. Chompy is wearing her painting shirt. 

The painting shirt was useless.

I threw the kids directly into the bathtub, which I had to fill and empty twice.

The hand print on the chair is due to Chompy deciding she needed a paintbrush halfway through and climbing up on the table to get one. Luckily the paint is washable. I am, however, still finding paint to wash, and we painted two weeks ago. 

The art looks fabulous on the wall, though! When we get the other one hung it will look even better!

Simply beautiful! 8 foot by two foot wall art for 25 bucks! Win!

Welcome Diner Film Contest

Super proud of my Phoenix family! My brother-in-law and sister-in-law and their theater group Howl Theatre participated in a film competition for the Welcome Diner downtown and they WON!

We went to watch the screening last week but it was too hip for us, they didn't start the movies until way too late and Chompy refused the sleeping.

You can watch the video here through the link or down below on the blog!

Soupe: Welcome Diner Winner!