Oh, Pumpkin

In my imagination, I'm a Pinterest Mom. I have these ideas about how a project or outing is going to go...

... And then I start the project or go on the outing with my kids. And like I've said many a'time, there's nothing that ruins ideal parenting like having actual children.

Over the last year or so, I've embraced the chaos of actual parenting (more or less), and I'm doing my best to find the joy in all of it. 

...But then I hear the Pinterest Mom's voice in my head. We'll call her Fiona, and she's as real as Verne (the grumpy old man who lives in my head). Fiona also blogs more regularly than, well, Yours Truly.

"You know what would be beautiful," she says into my ear, sipping a chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc out of a Villeroy & Bach crystal wineglass, "Family photos in the school pumpkin patch. You can get everyone to dress in a color theme. You have a remote shutter for your camera, so you can be in the pictures, too!"

"Ooooh," I say, drinking some (perfectly respectable) boxed Chardonnay out of a Ball jar with ice cubes in it, "Fiona, you are a genius."

So the night before, here's how Fiona's night went:

Fiona: Genevieve, here's your Halloween tutu, matching tights, and a Halloween shirt. 

Genevieve: Okay, Mommy! You're the best!

Here's how it actually went:

Me: Please pick a Halloween shirt and tights. And here's your Halloween tutu. 

Genevieve: I'm going to wear this skirt and these pants. 

Me: But we're going to take pictures. 

Genevieve: It's my choice. 

[Lesson learned: If I want to get a certain look, I will pick the clothes and inform her that it's a day where her clothes aren't her choice.]

And, not to wax too philosophical, but do I want our pictures to look perfect, or reflect what our lives actually look like? (The answer is both.)

I did put on makeup, and Genevieve and I added glitter on our eyes and cheeks (because it's fun), and eventually, the family went to the pumpkin patch at Genevieve's school. 

Her school is super fun, and it's a safe place to get messy. And the pumpkin patch has a couple of tables of crafts, play dough, and a DIY face paint station.

(There's a table to have it done as well, but if you're Genevieve, either way is just as fun.)

So within mere minutes of our arrived, Genevieve  went from this:

... To this:

(I positively adore the mustache.)

Rex, at a kingly ten weeks old (I told you that Fiona blogs more frequently than I do), was extremely cooperative and wore the ADORABLE pumpkin hat cheerfully while he slept. (The hat was actually a baby shower gift from Genevieve's baby shower. Not knit by me, sadly.)

The lighting was excellent, the pumpkins plentiful, and Genevieve was cheerfully playing with a classmate, so I took some pictures. 

(I also relinquished control of the camera to Andrew so that there were a few pictures of me as well. I may be a control freak, but I'm learning.)

Genevieve played, I chatted, and Andrew compared our little pumpkin to other little pumpkins.

I did *try* to get the family all in one place at the same time, but alas, it was my family that came along to the pumpkin patch, and not Fiona's, so you'll just have to imagine my beautiful family in the pictures with me.

Notice that we have a COLOR THEME!

My handsome guys

Maybe one day, Fiona's ideas will work for me again. But, until then, I'll be here with a stylish splotch of spitup on my shoulder.

And Genevieve will be in her "mooo-stache."

Smug cometh before the fall

Two weeks ago, I was telling Andrew how much I loved my iPod. It was a 2006, 5th generation video iPod (with a color screen!), it had 80G of memory, and I loved it. I also smugly declared that I had no need or desire to get a new, fancy iPod touch- unless they come out with one that has the same amount of memory as this one. (I have a lot of music. A LOT of music.)

Given that flash memory isn't quite there yet, I had been more than content with my precious iPod. Also, I told Andrew, since I take *exceedingly* good care of my stuff, I wasn't planning on replacing this iPod until the hard drive fails. Verne and I were in agreement on that one. We were smug as could be, and Verne may have thrown in a "Kids these days!" just for good measure.

The very next day, in a feat of spectacular klutziness, I managed to do a *spectacular* job dropping my iPod. I don't think I could have *thrown* it harder than it managed to drop.

No big; I've dropped it before. A few times. When I fired it up the next day, I noticed this:

Doesn't that make you sad just looking at it?

Hm. I could still *mostly* see what I was selecting, but over the next few days the screen got worse. And worse.

Still, Verne and I were intent not to replace this iPod. ("Kids these days", see above.)

With drama worthy of Sarah Bernhardt, I put my hand to my forehead and told Andrew that I would soldier on with a cracked screen.

Andrew, earning his nomination for Husband of the Year, kidnapped my ailing iPod and now, check it out:

Yes, I do have 694 podcasts episodes to listen to.

All better. Apparently, Andrew took my old iPod to go live on a farm**. Probably with LukeWarm, our old oven. Apparently, at the farm, Andrew found this little iPod who happened to need a home. You see, he's an older model, and nobody seemed to want him.

Andrew took him by his sync cable, and let the new iPod know that he'd have a long, happy life with me.

Provided that I don't drop him, that is.




** The "farm" is the Apple Repair/Replacement program, in case you're curious. Or you happened to destroy your screen, too.

Tomfoolery and foolishness

The year is 2011. I have been working primarily in tech since 2000, and I am just now, today, figuring out how to use a feed reader to read my blogs.

I think my main issue was that I thought a feed reader is unnecessary. I had a folder in my bookmarks for blogs, would open them all up in tabs, and check my blogs daily that way. Verne, the 90-year-old man who lives in my head, thought that feed readers were fancy and pretentious.

Verne is the voice in my head that uses words like "foolishness", "tomfoolery", and "nonsense". Verne comes out - mostly - when there is something that offends my good sense. Like paying $4 for a hand-poured cup of coffee (which takes 15 minutes). Verne thinks that for $4, that cup of coffee should vacuum my car while I drink it. (He thinks other things along those lines, but the car vacuuming was the most polite, if you get my meaning.)

Don't even get Verne started on pre-chopped vegetables at the grocery store, or yoga clothes that cost more than work clothes. He is gruff and completely unapologetic about his opinions.

Verne doesn't like taking pictures with cell phones at dinner.

Verne is also the first to admit when something is a Really Good Idea. Like the green plastic doohickeys at Starbucks, that keep your coffee from spilling out of the drinking hole while you drive. He's also a big fan of the Cricket loom, cooking on a gas range, and TiVo. (He LOVES the TiVo. He's 90 years old and he doesn't have time for commercials. Nonsense and foolishness.)

I read the directions on how to use Google Reader, and Verne and I agree that it's genius. It's clean, easy to use, and best of all? A Really Good Idea.

Goodbye, bookmarks. Hello, Google Reader!