fridge (frĭj) noun Informal, short for refrigerator. re·frig·er·a·tor (rĭ-frĭjˈə-rāˌtər) noun 1. An appliance, cabinet, or room for storing food or other substances at a low temperature. 2. A magnetic surface used to display artwork, accomplishments, and photographs especially when pertaining to one's own children.
Follow my paper craft obsession on my blog Papercut Kitchen
My husband isn't the best with picking up around the house but he is the master of knowing when I need some time away from the glorious title of "MAMMA!!!!!!" He not only has the indispensable talent of walking in the door and immediately seeing "frazzled" written across my forehead, he is also one of those blessed men who recognizes the fact that being a mom is a job, a hard one, one that affords few breaks, so he gives me a weekly break. Every Tuesday was my day off. From sun up to sun down I didn't have to do a single mom-related chore I didn't want to do. This usually meant a blissful day of my beloved crack-filled mochas and scrapping with my buddy Kim at our beautiful local scrapbook supply store. That is until the move. I was very reluctant to give up my scrapping day-o'-bliss so I decided I would put Jackson, aka. Lil' Spitfire, into Mother's Day Out on Tuesday and I could try entering the world of scrapping with a 3 year old. Much to my amazement it's going pretty well! He does some work on his scrapbook, which is heavily Thomas and Cars themed, and I actually get some work done on my own scrapbook! So I'm busily training up the next generation of scrappers.
When dropping little brother off at MDO Graham was asked what he was going to do today. His response, expressed in his usual slow and contemplative way: "I'm going--with my good friend Mamma--scrapbooking." Well, just melt my heart with sweetness Mr. Golden Curls! Graham is scrapping pictures he took himself (sooo much fun!). My favorite layout so far: bright blue Thomas paper and a photo of our bright turquoise bathroom and, somehow, Pappa's hand.
Such a literal little man: "Put the page under your chin so I can see it!" "OK, Cheese!"
It has been three weeks now since my husband started living 4 hours away, but I got to hang out with him for most of this past week. On Monday afternoon I drove down to visit feeling giddy, like a school girl visiting her crush, and I had so much fun! It was like a little vacation and I got to get to know this future home of mine a little better and must admit, I'm warming up to it. It's pretty artsy and the downtown is cool, I haven't gotten to venture much past that so I don't have a good feel for the whole town. I had planned on doing a photo documentary of how my husband is living these days because it's so bohemian, and more than a smidge odd. After he was all moved into his apartment, I use the term apartment loosely, we walked back into the ally, I looked around at the beautiful rundowness of it all and said "Jack Kerouac would be proud." Unfortunately in the hustle and bustle of getting kids and dog out of the house and on their way to Grandma's house (yea for Grandma!) and my over excitement to get on the road to see the husband I hadn't seen in two weeks, I forgot my camera, so pictures will have to wait.
I felt inspired visiting this town with it's moderately neglected oldness. We walked up and down the main street, in and out of boutiques full of really cool stuff I will never afford. We had breakfast in the restaurant upstairs from my husband's apartment. It's so closely upstairs that the scootching of wooden chairs on the wooden floor above and the soft rumble of customers' voices was my morning alarm. We visited "The Poet's Loft", a little place about a block away. The first night they had open mic jam session. My husband is a Jack of all Musical Trades so he was up there drumming, singing, and playing guitar. The next night was their poetry slam. I'm not a poetry writer/reader, actually I'm not much into being on display in front of people, I leave that to my husband who on this night read a poem by Mother Theresa and sang a silly ditty.
My husband even got to come home with me for a day or two but now he's gone. Drove off in the cold, dark night in our as of yet topless '68 VW convertible bundled up to twice his size. While he was here he felt a little like a stranger in his own home, having had to live out of a suitcase. As he was leaving I had the feeling that I just have visitation rights to my husband, I guess that makes Hot Springs the evil stepmother. It seems there is still some warming up to be done!
Tonight I was feeling a little frustrated that I can't seem to get much crafting done. Today I managed to make only two cards between feeding, bathing, diapering, and catering to two kids and dealing with two different bedtimes and being a temporary single mom. My youngest is getting in two very nasty second molars and being very clingy with Pappa gone. He's also likely to either not sleep through the night or wake up at 5:30am ready to start his day. I was so focused on getting those silly cards done that every little thing that distracted me was extremely aggitating and I had to work really hard at not snapping at the boys. Now that the house is calm I'm realizing life isn't getting in the way, but I often get in the way of enjoying my life. Besides, I wouldn't want any other life getting in the way of my crafting than the one I have now!