Just the Two of Us

Since Baby Brother was born I've been trying to give Miss Soph as much one on one as I can. Sometimes it's just a weeknight trip to Target, but this weekend we got out for a hike at the county park down the road from us. It was magical, not only because it was like 50 degrees (in February, in Minnesota?), but also because she let me take a thousand pictures of her.

She recently discovered this little blog (while Googling herself... um yes...). So let me just give her a shout out since she will no doubt be reading this:

Hi Sophie! Thank you for the super fun day and for letting me take all those pictures! Cute, huh?

Love you! Best kid!

xoxo

Where the Magic Happens

Working on photos and editing new listings for the upcoming re-opening of my shop.

I thought you might like to take a peek at my high end, state of the art, ultra modern, professional photography studio. This is a blogspot exclusive people...

Yes, that's a toilet, and yes it's just our upstairs bathroom. And yes, those are Christmas decorations, and yes it's the end of February (it's on my to-do list, ok? Don't judge).

I know diddly-doo-jack about photography, but for some reason the lighting up there just works for what I need. I brought the big round tin barrel in from the hallway for my new collections.

Cute, huh? If I do say so.

Introducing: Sweet Baby Charlie

Here's our sweet little Charlie Boy. He was born on December 21, and he is the sweetest thing ever. Ever. It's a daily challenge not to devour him. We are all obsessed with him,

and we think he kind of likes us too.

Dear Allen

Hi Allen, you don't know me, but I have your old phone number. I keep telling your friends you've changed your number, but they- especially Jim and Jack- keep calling me/you. The first phone call I got was a pre-recorded message letting you know that your flight to Honolulu had been rescheduled. I've received countless calls since then- especially from Jim and Jack- and SORRY but I always listen to the message. I always hope to catch something saucy that you might be up to, but you seem like a pretty good guy. And you seem like you have quite a fancy little life. I've received a call from your driver, from one of your pals asking you how you played at Bel Air Country Club, and there's always lots of business talk with very high numbers.  One time a friend called to see if you had any advice he could pass on to his grandson on the soccer field. Sweet.
Each time I actually answer a call a for you, your associates are always courteous and apologetic, and I let them know to change their contact info. The other night I had a message from your buddy (I swear it was Jim or Jack... their voices are interchangeable to me, and I've told them both to change their contacts) who was rubbing the score of the football game in your face.
Not to worry, it's not a huge inconvenience. I just wish you were more entertaining.
Just thought I'd let you know.
Give your wife Cathy my best.

Sincerely,
Jami Klehr

So Long Thong...

One day last week, I found myself easily irritated. I was grumpy and I think I was actually frowning. It was a beautiful day and I couldn't find a thing to complain about.
Then I realized that my undies were literally in a bunch, and I was making me crabby. For real!
So Big Pregnant Lady found herself some big undies and is smiling again.
Big Pregant Lady's husband was folding a load of laundry (helping out, ya know...) and was completely genuine when he asked me how I liked my new boxer-briefs. He wasn't smiling.

PS I urge you to excercise caution when doing a google image search for "granny panties"...

Why do we keep putting her on a pedestal? You know her, that woman everybody seems to want to be like. That woman people pretend to admire and try to emulate. She's considered successful, powerful, and proud to be a huge bitch. I don't like her, I don't admire her, and I don't ever want to be like her.

"She does what she wants and she says what she wants and she doesn't care what anybody thinks."
Wouldn't we all love to do and say what we want? I just think that part of being a mature adult is to think about how your actions and words affect the feelings of others. 2 year-olds do and say what they want, a grown woman should be able to put a little more thought into her actions. And I do care what other people think. I care what my family thinks of me, what my husband thinks of me, what my daughter thinks of me, what my friends think of me. I care if someone I just met gets the impression that I am a good person. I don't care if you like my house or my car or my clothes. I don't care if you like my taste in music or my cooking. But I do care what you think of ME.

"She doesn't care what she has to do, she gets what she wants."
Hey! I'm all about getting what I want! Aren't we all (especially those 2 year-olds)? But really, you don't care what you have to do? Call me Little Miss Sunshine and Daisies, but if I have to destroy someone else to get where I'm going, I don't want to end up there. I must be totally crazy to think that if you WORK HARD AND BE NICE you will get to the place you need to be.
 
"She doesn't put up with shit."
Sounds kinda wimpy to me. What, does she wave her fingers at anybody who disagrees with her, offends her, or isn't worth her time? I choose to admire and strive to be a person with tolerance, empathy, compassion... but again, Sunshine and Daisies... I know.

I'm not talking about any one woman in particular. But we've all encountered her. And we've all thought that maybe we should do what she does. Uh-huh, yeah, well I'm over it. She wants you to see strength when you look at her, but all I see is weakness, and nobody wants to be weak.
Phew. That's been bugging me. Thank you for your time.
If you need me I'll be knitting baby hats, making gingerbread, playing with kittens, and frolicking through the meadow.
Wink.

Bag Lady

I need another bag like I need a hole in my head.
I don't mean handbag, like a purse, I mean like tote bags. I have a ba-jillion, I love them, and I use them everyday. So with Mr. Baby about to arrive I get to justify another bag purchase... a diaper bag!
Do a search for diaper bag and you're going to find all kinds of scary specimens covered in giraffes and ducks (sorry, it's just not my thing). There are also some extraordinary beauties made from those lovely designer fabrics by Amy B and Anna M. H... really I love them, but my husband protests because goodness gracious, he might have to walk into a room carrying the bag, and he'd prefer if it wasn't covered in dahlia blooms and sparrows. So I thought I'd share a few duck-free, gender neutral, non-diapery looking diaper bags I found while sifting through Etsy listings.

Stockholm Diaper Bag by Ika Bags in... yes, Paris. How fab I know. I initially decided I couldn't justify this one, but after peeking at the shop again this morning, I might be revisiting the idea. Price is totally reasonable ($60), but shipping is steep from France. However, when people compliment your diaper bag (because they will) you can flick your hair back and say in a deep, sassy voice "Why thank you it's from Paris." And then your friends will roll their eyes at you. Love it.

Love this shop! And love the Margot Tote!
Nikolette Bags from Portland has a great variety of style and color combos. Their shop announcement states that they are in the process of adding new designs, so I'm kinda waiting to see what else they come up with. It may not be French, but if you ask me, American-handmade is just as shmancy.

Project Bag in Olive. This shop, Bayan Hippo (Turkiye, Europe) has bags that I swear were created from the inside of my brain while I sleep at night. I love every listing in this shop. Clean, classic, simple, good colors, functional design, and so beyond reasonably priced. I creep on the shop regularly just to get some jollies. LOVE.

So I've got some decision making to do. I'm that annoying buyer who feels the need to see absolutely every option available, then stew and simmer for a good 3 months before making a purchase. The great thing about all 3 of these bags is that when the diaper days are over they can go straight into circulation in my tote bag stash. Woo!