where not to put metamucil

Don't think like that. This isn't that kind of blog.

So. In my first attempt at new homemaking, I decided to start with the pantry. Not a bad idea. It's one of the most-used areas of the house after the refrigerator, and it isn't organized in a way that really promotes organization. I made a pretty good go of it. Old food went down the disposal, other items found their way to the recycling or garbage. Down to the very last thing, the huge canister of Metamucil.

I have this pharmacist friend who insisted that I start taking it daily, but 3 years later and the darn thing was just standing sentry in the back of the pantry. I knew just the thing to do with it. I brought the 2+ lbs. of powdered mess over to the garbage disposal, dumped it in, ran some water, and took Ace outside to play with a neighbor girl while the water worked it's magic.

And this is what I returned to (if you have a queasy stomach, perhaps don't look too closely):

That is a 2-inch layer of almost solid---way more solid than old jello---Metamucil.

I tried the disposal, and it died. Yikes. So I started scraping it out. 2 hours later, I was still trying to scrape and dump. Check this pretty little thing:

I know, gross right? Thankfully, it smelled like orange popsicles. But I tried everything. Pouring hot water down (turns out this is not a good idea---it can thicken substances and cause more resistance against the blades). Trying to move the blades with a spoon -- probably not the smartest idea. Finally, I called Mom Hawk and she said, among other things, see what you can find on the web.

Good idea. Why didn't I think of that? I'd already looked to see how much a replacement cost (around $60) so I knew I had to fix this myself rather than call in professional help. Good. That means I can fix it myself. And after all, I'm a homemaker now. No better time like this moment.

I found a great site, but shux, I can't find it in my history so I can't post it here. If I do, I'll update this post. The guy was great. I learned two major things about disposals. First, there is a red button that acts as a safety switch, so when I heard mine die I was really hearing the switch power it off to save the motor. Second, if you have a hex wrench, you can turn the blades. I had no idea. None. So I found the right hex wrench and twisted the blades back and forth from this little hole in the bottom of the disposal. Soon I could feel them loosen. The next time I tried to run it, it worked!!! Everything drained right down and that nasty goo was finally out of sight.

So raise a pint to the first almost-slight-catastrophe remedied. I am one event closer to understanding our home and helping it coexist peacefully with humans.

Hope your week is off to a great start!

icj,
~j

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guess whose bracket won?

For those of you who follow college basketball you know that for most brackets, the guessing is over. Pretty much no one picked UConn vs. Butler.

BUT

I did pick UConn. Which means that in my bracket, someone one. Who one?

This gal.

This one's for you, Cormac. Mommy will never let Daddy forget it. UConn, be still my heart.

icj,
~j

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fire, mud, and hay

I was going to do this:

Got talked into this by a fireman friend:

Scoured too many photos of marines scaling their walls and returned to this:

Get ready. This new mama is gonna make her sonny boy proud. Or very embarrassed. Either way, there's free beer at the end.

Have you guys ever done anything like this? Am I going to die?

Happy Monday

icj,

~j

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aw, shucks

Someone stole Hawk's new iphone from off his desk this week. Not cool.


So here are a couple of phone pics to make us feel better. Most of these could never be stolen so easily...

eclectic home office design by london rossana

eclectic hall design by new york interior designer Marie Burgos Design

The last three are all off gettyimages.com

So, here's to the end of the world when I will finally learn the $*#@'s name. And I will still be angry at him.

icj

~j

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quick laugh

Oh, please check these out if you need a laugh...


special eyes


happy family

floutist of the north

icj,
~j

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I spilled beer on my Mac, and reason I am so SMRT #1

For those of you in Reader (or some variation), did you pop over because that title is so ludicrous? I mean, she couldn't be that foolish, could she?


Oh friends, I assure, it's true and I am. In honor of this event and in homage to the plethora of past events that will forever be unsung, we're starting a new segment called, reason I am so SMRT. For those of you who enjoy a little Simpson time now and then, this title may be familiar.

And while we're at it, let's enjoy a moment with the man who introduced the word, plethora, to my vocabulary.





How did it happen you might ask. Well, I was advised by sonny-boy's pediatrician to partake of one lovely beverage per day to aid in the increase of my supply. And in the first month, Cormac would sleep on me once a day, ensuring a good nap. I would hunker down and read or watch a show. One of these times, I managed to pour some out an my Mac keyboard, but the worst thing is, I don't remember doing it! The next time I booted up, it didn't boot. So I told Hawk, made an appointment with the Genius Bar, and didn't think about it.  Until he called me from oh Genius land. To say they found beer in it. Smelled so strong that one guy almost got in trouble for drinking on the job. 


Doesn't that just sound terrible? My wife was nursing our newborn and must have spilled her beer on it. And then, we heard the happy news: it was done-for.


Since then, we were able to replace it through insurance and even transport the hard drive with its hundreds of photos from the last year.  Thank goodness. Just too bad it wasn'y before I lost all my pride.


Happy Monday!


icj,
~j

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i wish

I wish I was little bit taller,
I wish I was a baller
I wish I had a girl who looked good
I would call her
I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat
and a '64 Impala


If you know the above, I applaud you. If you noticed that "Impala" just doesn't rhyme with "her," I applaud you with my feet.


So we have a few posts in the hopper:
Books to read when preparing for that whole labor & delivery thing
Nursery update
Pumpkin cookie recipe
Hawk's weekly letter
and something else I can't remember


But while I try to finish my job AND organize it in such a way that all my cover/substitutes can glide right in and take over if need be, I'm just not finishing those posts.


So I leave you with this. I wish I could take Hawk here:

found at mfamb

He's never been out of North America, and I would love to take him here. I did a little research and found that the castle is known as Eileen Donan castle, and you can book it here.

And if you go to MFAMB's post for today, you may squirm, but you may also laugh. Just a thought.

etsy friday tomorrow!!!

icj,

~j

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woodnote photo shoot

It is just that time of year--busy busy busy. To think that at this time last year we were spending all our extra hours working on the house, Mom Hawk was here probably 15 hours a week (or more?) on various projects, and we were still trying to pick out red for the dining room. Now, we can't imagine how "un-us" that red would have become.


In celebration of the first year of our marriage, we decided to do a professional photo shoot. No, we're really not that narcissistic (I swear!), we just love looking at photos of our family members, and now with a baby on the way, we saw this as a great way to create memories our children and children's children can appreciate. When others have heard the idea, they love it!


So, the back story: we spent a number of months reviewing local photographers. After the wedding, this was the only wedding-like-thing that I was still rather obsessed with. And when we attended the Katie&Miles, we were so impressed by their photographers that I began to follow them (online---I'm not a stalker!). After months of scheduling and rescheduling, we finally worked in a date with the young couple of Woodnote Photography: Jayden & Caroline.

They were WAY too much fun, so flexible and accommodating, and gave us more time than we deserved (almost 4 hours!). Caroline is now blonde, and the same quirky attitude exuding from the photo above? All over them in real life. We had such a good time that when we left, Hawk and I said to each other, "We could hang out with them again." Cheers to a budding new friendship!

(It certainly helps that Jayden is a master mandolin player. No one understands Hawk properly who doesn't understand the allure of the mandolin. And no, he's holding a banjo in the photo above.)

Without further ado, here were our favorites of the favorites from the day...

All the stair shots were taken at Lake Park Bistro, a Bartolotta Restaurant and (I think) a part of Frederick Olmsted Law's Milwaukee project. He's the same guy who did Chicago's World's Fairh in 1892 and New York's Central Park. It's much more beautiful in spring and mid-summer, but it still makes a great photo here.

They shot this shot when we were really laughing. I had no idea I throw my body backwards like that.

I love this one. Hawk looks so serious. This is the look he gives me when he's really listening.

I think Caroline was making us laugh here--without trying (or maybe they're just that good!). We talked like crazy throughout the day, and they just kept shooting. We loved how there is a mix of focused shots with those taken when we weren't "trying".

Hawk's smile here is the best. Totally natural. Totally him.

And this is the one I picture our kids loving someday when we're too old to remember the story behind it.

Hawk's youngest sister, Lindsay, gave us Ace this plush, cozy rabbit. We couldn't resist bringing it in for a few shots, though they took the second shot with my hand on my belly in the event that future viewers were perplexed by its relevance.

We went down to the walking bridge under an iron railroad bridge above Milwaukee River (and near the infamous Lakefront Brewery). The wood is so beautiful both on the floor boards and railings.

And since this was no longer just an anniversary shoot but also a 6-month-pregnant shoot, we couldn't forget Ace!

We also picked up a few balloons. The wind was blowing so hard that most of them shoot straight north.

This one is particularly sweet visually:

Love this picture. Love it. Except for one thing. Pregnancy "grows a girl" in interesting places. Let's just say this is the "where's Waldo" picture of my new twins---they're just doing whatever they please. 

When I showed that one to Dad Hawk, he laughed so hard he teared up.
End the balloon segment on an even note (hee hee):

Then, we had a little baby-balloon fun...

And with the light fading, Caroline & Jayden took some crazy shots. I have no idea how they did this...

And, let's face it, I'm whipped...

Thank you for taking a look at the shoot. We hope you enjoyed it. And remember to check out Woodnote Photography for more. Even their background music is spectacular!

icj,

~j

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a baby's bump

I've always been reticent to look at pregnant women's bellies or to show my own, but I've heard enough requests for an update. And I must confess, I really love being pregnant. I had no idea it could be this good. Granted, I've had a relatively easy pregnancy---few bouts of nausea, the typical mono-like symptoms in the first trimester, and an energetic, feeling great second trimester. I walk the mile to and from work almost every day, and even squeeze in a 3+ miler with my friend, Colleen, when we get the chance. I'm still in most of my original clothes thanks to stretchy shirts and Stacy's Bellyband. 


But before we show you the photos, let me entertain you with the dreams Hawk and I had last night. 


Hawk's dream: Wanting to protect me & Ace (the baby's nickname) from going into premature labor, he trains me in combat and self-defence. In particular, he "trains" me to defend my body against punches (we think this might be the subconscious effect of a verbal altercation I endured from a volunteer through work this past weekend). But for some reason, he keeps punching me. Not that I'm not blocking well. He's just 15 inches taller and much more mighty.


So I go into premature labor.


The baby, who turns out to be a boy, comes out a year old and talking. Apparently, he is also highly unattractive. Lovely.


Jen's dream: Yet another one of my I-have-powers-and-skills-that-save-at-least-one-person-and-often-an-entire-civilization dreams. Except that in this one, my power comes from unborn Ace. In particular, I can fly downhill. Not uphill. Downhill. And when I do, I sprout turquoise and deep blue feathers.


Halfway through the dream, Ace decides that flying downhill is not as fun as breathing underwater. I am told, somehow, that this is my next task. My dream commences with the two of us swimming underwater---in a run-down indoor half-Olympic-sized pool. 


I then wake and try desperately to get back to the flying dream, which was way more fun, whatever Ace thinks.


Lastly, I've been laughing to myself all morning because after Hawk put in his retainers last night, I was teasing him about something and he said, "schltop," instead of stop. You know, the wet, back-of-the-tongue sort of stop you get from the nerdy kid in the coming-of-age teenage 80's drama.


Alright, on to the photos. Here's the little kiddo at 13 weeks:

And here he or she is at just shy of 26 weeks (we're now 27.5 weeks, as a point of reference). Note, this is not a maternity shirt. Hence, we did not realize until after the photo was taken and the dinner party completed that I was sporting a little undergarment peek-a-boo. Sorry Ace. You're mother's a floozy.

I am also noticing that my cheeks have indeed grown. Hawk will be pleased (he hopes Ace comes out with doughy, pudgy cheeks). I say, it could be worse!

Happy Wednesday, everybody!

icj,

~j

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the first baby class : a new SNL sketch

Let's just say that SNL came to Milwaukee last night.


We've been looking forward to our first childbirth and parenting class for almost two months now. It's a six-week course through the hospital where our physician is located and where we'll deliver, and we've heard a number of good things about it.


All day yesterday, I skipped around in anticipation. After all, this was to be our second "official" activity relating to pregnancy after baby registeries; we've done the home study, the daily babycenter.com updates, the book we receive through our physician's office, but now we were going to receive specialized learning. Meet other young couples going through the same thing. Perhaps make life-long friends, as we are so often reminded can arise from such classes.


And in walked Rose*. The substitute. Not that we have anything against substitute teachers. Some subs were better than the regular teachers in high school. 


But this is different. She was kind and obviously loved her work. She was also 60, unintentionally rude and inappropriate, and downright uncomfortable in some of the actions and words she chose. 


Our first activity was to list, as a group, the questions we hoped would be answered in the class. A number of couples didn't offer a question, so we offered one each. Hawk asked about the different birthing techniques, and I asked about the degree of control and preference the mother has in the delivery room. We really put ourselves out there right away, knowing instinctively that this was not going to go well.


Going through the questions one-by-one---and note, we hadn't yet heard what we were going to cover at this first session, nor what the overall plan was for the course---when she finally got to Hawk's. She said,


"No one else will really be interested in this one." Strike one.
"We're not really going to get into it." Strike two. Good to know our contribution was acknowledged.
"These are rather old-fashioned. No one really worries about methods anymore. I'm sure none of you have thought about them." Strike three. Swinging.


Yup. After asking for our questions, she threw away the adage "there are no stupid questions" and basically called our question stupid. Not to mention that all my contemporaries have mentioned a method. Not to mention that my labor-and-delivery nurse mother and my sister, who works for the same hospital we were standing in, discussed and used a method in their deliveries.


A wee bit later, she hits my question. Shut down again. Mentions a "birth plan," the same language our modern babycenter.com uses, and discusses why that phrase is out of date. Note, this is right after she told us that there are studies done to show how "new technologies are connecting people and knowledge" in "really fast ways." Yup. I wonder what she would think of this whole world wide web thing. Forget facebook.


Hawk leaned over to me and whispered, "This is brutal." Man giggle. "This can't be happening."


It got better. 


Every. Single. Time. She spoke about a woman's anatomy, she...oh, how can I possibly say this appropriately? She took a firm hold of the genuine anatomy closest to her. So often, I had to start looking away. My mother raised me to be a rather modest Catholic, and Catholics are more modest than prudish, and this just sent awkward coursing down my spine. That's really how bad it was.


More man giggles and comments from Hawk. Now joined by very cool-looking couple to my immediate left. I sighed. I think: "Maybe we found a friend?"


Sure enough, as soon as their was a slight break, the couple turned to us and introduced themselves, and we immediately began a mutual tirade expanding on the question, "What did we spend $80 on?!?"


The rest of the evening, she promised us that we'd be leaving early and mentioned, repeatedly, how we probably don't want to know the details she's giving. Yup. That's exactly why we paid money for this voluntary course. Because we hate knowledge and all have expendable income to throw away on things like hospital courses rather than fashion, fast cars, and fast technology. Shoot me in the kneecap.


Finally, I'll give you the only thing as awkward as the firm holding described above. Whenever she wanted to refer to labor, she would pretend to experience a contraction. Acted out for a full 1-3 minutes. Now, I don't want to watch anyone else go through a contraction, and the only reason I'm fine with Hawk seeing me experience one is because it's for our baby. I have watched movie sex scenes with my mother-in-law, but this felt like a total invasion of privacy. Awkward and awkward and awkward. And uncomfortable. Plus, she's 60!


By the time we got to the practice meditation, she had lost me completely. Hawk tried. He really did. When she asked us to moan aloud (oh yes, she did), he came through with bells on. A big, loud, "Hhhaaaaaaaaaaa," as she requested. And of course, every man around us started laughing as silently as they could. And I'm laughing. And our new couple-friends are laughing. And there's not practicing of meditation and comfort going on.


Suffice it to say that when we finally got to our car after not leaving class early, we were dumbstruck. It was just surreal. Even my mother, the labor-and-delivery nurse, couldn't believe what we experienced.


devote: I've heard a number of women dissatisfied about their husbands taking no part in their home, in their pregnancy and preparation. Also, I've been spending a bit of time learning more about proper housekeeping (more on that later) and what truly "makes a home." As much as all the sanding, flooding, maintenance, etc. has given us insight into our marriage formation, having Hawk take the initiative in last night's class, making a fool of himself for the sake of learning, and cracking me up at regular intervals showed me how devoted he is to our marriage and child. Not that I really needed to be reminded. But I know we have something above the norm, and I'll fight to the death to have a lifetime like this.


*(name changed to protect the innocent)


Hope this was worth missing a Housewalking day! It was for me:)


icj,
~j

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