Lannis: Productive Procrastination

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Ever heard of that term? It’s one of my favourites, mostly because it shows up a lot in my household.

In a nutshell, it’s when you have something to do, but instead of doing that Thing That Really Needs To Be Done, you’re busy doing Other Things That Need To Be Done. Sure, you feel very productive, but did the first, most pressing Thing ever get finished?

If the answer is “no, but look at all the other Things I got done! It’s ah-mazing!” you’ve been productively procrastinating, my friend.

And I’m a pro.

Lately, I have a Big Project. Well, two (two and a half?) that should be done. But since they’re for me (as in, I’m not being paid -- nor will I ever if I don’t get off my tuchus and finish them -- but I might be in the future if I manage to complete them well), I keep setting them aside.

Many reasons. Mostly focus. If I can’t properly focus there’s no reason to tackle the Big Project(s), because they won’t be completed properly (and thereby will never be paid for them).

(I’m also really skilled at procrastination justification, if you can’t tell.)

Anyhow, focus will come eventually for the Big Project(s).

Right now it’s the little things I’m having difficultly completing.

Namely, my costume for the Wheel of Time costume contest at JordanCon. (I know, right? Why am I procrastinating?! It’s lunacy, I tell you! Lunacy!)

Want to know what I’ve gotten done in the last month since I stopped working on my costume (read: stopped before I sewed on the last six necessary snaps)?

• e-filed our taxes (our refund has already arrived!).
• cleaned our house top to bottom numerous times (I’m usually a rather lazy housekeeper).
• cleaned Hamster’s cage so often the little guy’s been shell-shocked.
• read four books and wrote two reviews.
• filled out paperwork to renew one boy’s passport, including dragging said child to have the requisite passport photo taken).
• washed and line-dried all sheets and bedding in the house (both winter and summer).
• reorganized and purged storage caches and all closets in house.
• reorganized and purged garage.
• reorganized and purged bookshelves.
• reorganized and purged under two bathroom sinks and the laundry room sink.
• created giant pile of stuff to go to Goodwill thanks to all the purging. Blech. (Go on, laugh, it’s a vomit joke.)
• repotted two plants and shuffled locations of three others.
• wiped down patio furniture
• washed all windows and screens in the house
• cleaned and vacuumed three vehicles (only two are ours -- how’s that for reaching?)
• began editing home movie clips from 2010 (yes, I’m that psycho who makes home movies -- rest assured, only our children are subjected to them).
• purged obsolete files off the laptop (necessary to free space for Final Cut Express to work efficiently -- as well as long overdue).
• washed all winter clothing (and almost put it away. Damn you, March, for remembering you’re March.)
• began weeding yard (until March remembered it’s March.)
• clipped claws and all winter-coat mats off the cats (because clearly I’m getting desperate).

My mother would call this puttering.

I call it “getting shit done because I’m avoiding other shit.”

Or productive procrastination, if I’m in polite company.

Basically I’m getting to all the crap that has built up over the winter, and yes, I realize I probably would have gotten around to most (if not all) of it eventually over the year. And yes, a lot of it overlaps with the regular running of the household (cleaning, laundry, administration, etc.).

What shocks me is that I’ve managed to tackle much of it in only a couple of weeks, and with many of those days jam-packed with other activities (family get-togethers; children’s birthday parties; seeing friends; day care; attending author readings; trekking back and forth to school; appointments in general; life, life, LIFE).

But I suppose I need to get around to finishing that costume. Eventually.

Especially since I just preregistered for the costume contest.

No backing out now...

Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]

I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.

If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned

<< Food Waste Friday: Oh No You Didn't

Some Sympathy For An Incredibly First World Problem >>

This time last year: Come, Spring. No, Wait.

Food Waste Friday: Oh No You Didn't

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(Courtesy of Kristen at The Frugal Girl)

Oh, yes I did.

I actually used up all the leftovers in my fridge this week. Now, that's not to say that I didn't waste any food, because that would be a complete and utter fiction, but - unlike last week - what food that did get wasted was pretty minor (and cheap) compared to what did not.

For this, I am proud.

So what perfectly good food (er, previously perfectly good, anyway) did get thrown away to the faint sound of dollars being flushed down the garbage disposal that I do not have?

That would be a whole cucumber, a small amount of strawberries that got forgotten in the fridge, a teeny-tiny bit of cheese (smoked gouda, yuck), and a whole avocado. Boo. But on the other hand, none of it was Root Beer Pulled Pork, unlike this tragic week.

I also had two wizzled tomatoes, some dilled goat cheese, some cooked noodles, and some basil that were all well on their way to the trash can...until I put my cape on and rescued them by throwing them in a pan with some butter, onion, and garlic.

Wish I'd got the hang of that sooner.

So here's my fridge this morning. And, yes, that's a bowl of rib drippings with congealed fat on top.

You're welcome.

Perfect Granola: What I Want To Eat At My Funeral

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That's right. I've done it.

I may not have run naked through the house shouting "Eureka!", but I have cracked the granola secret, and I'm here to tell you about it.

First, let me preface this by reminding you that I am incredibly picky when it comes to granola. I can imagine exactly what I want it to taste and feel like, and I'm never, ever satisfied. Until now, that is.

Molly Wizenberg's recipes haven't always been good to me (see: Dutch Babies and Meatballs, Failures In), but this one is customizable in a way that even I can't screw up, and believe me, I've tried. I've made it with blackstrap molasses, burnt it, added too many pumpkin seeds to it, and generally tried my best to make it inedible, but this granola just won't take "crap" for an adjective.

I think the recipe as I've rewritten it is just about as perfect as it can be, and I can't think of a better thing to have around to snack on and save me from an ill-advised trip to the grocery store for A Little Something. This is a snack that is sweet with a touch of salt, crisp, nutty, and delicious. It is perfect.

But the most perfect thing about this Perfect Granola is actually this: if you don't like pumpkin seeds, don't use them. If almonds make you gag, and the thought of delicious, delicious pecans is enough to make you overcome your inner miser, replace them. If you don't like molasses, use maple syrup - uh, you might not believe it, but the original calls for maple syrup. And it didn't sound appealing to me. Thus the molasses.

Yes, the world just exploded. But I still have some granola, so I'll be fine.

The Perfect Granola
(adapted from Molly Wizenberg's Olive Oil and Maple Granola)


4 cups old fashioned rolled oats
1 cup chopped almonds
1 1/4 cups raw sunflower seeds
1/4 cup raw pumpkin seeds
1/4 cup chopped pecans
1/3 cup ground flax
1 tsp kosher salt
1/2 cup sunflower oil
3/4 fancy molasses

Preheat oven to 250 degrees. Mix all the ingredients together and spread on two parchment lined cookie sheets. Bake for one hour, mixing well after every 20 minutes. Let cool, break up, and store in an airtight container for up to two weeks (I hear. This is only theory to me.)

You're welcome.

(I tried doing a cost breakdown but was stymied by my own laziness. Maybe later. It's not cheap, that's all I know.)

Budgeting: The Hardest Thing

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The hardest thing about budgeting isn't living on a budget. It's not being mindful of what I spend, or cutting back on things that I enjoy. It's not working on the spreadsheet, it's not finding creative ways to make more money, and it's definitely not talking about it.

The hardest thing about budgeting is tracking my expletive-expletive-something-something spending.

I've tried Quicken. (Blurgh.)

I've tried Mint.

I've tried cash only.

None of these things have worked for me for very long, and I'm not sure how I'm going to set up a system that works for both me and Seth, is free, and doesn't involve training a computer to understand me.

Ideas? Because as much as I enjoy working on the spreadsheet, it doesn't help me a whole lot if there's no connection to reality.t

Lannis: A Thousand Words...

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So I realized the other day that Sandi and I have a horrible habit of, well, rarely being in the same room together, but when we do we wait until the end of a visit filled with our wacky sense of humour and possibly hysterical laughter to visually document the fact we managed to get together...

Which means we generally look a shambles. I swear we both clean up good, but for whatever reason we can’t prove it.

So here’s a few shots I have from our last three visits, spanning the last four years (yes, it’s that sad).

And yes, we look like fools. I’m not apologizing to Sandi — she has ultimate veto on posting, it’s her show after all, and if I never see this published I know why, ha! — and I doubt this is the first time someone reading this has stumbled upon our little corner of the Interwebs, but if so, yes, we’re weird. Yes, we’re really this unapologetic about it — it’s just the way we roll.

I submit to you, the evidence...

Back in August 2009 —

Clearly we have issues keeping it together long enough to focus a camera...

Okay. That’s better. Marginally. Depends on how high (or low) your standards happen to be.

Last summer, July 2011 —

And here we are again... blurry... (I sense a pattern.)

Okay. Better again, but we look like we’re stuck to each other.

And January 2012, our most recent shenanigans, I’ll confess there were FIVE photos taken (possibly more, but I deleted them), and these three were the most respectable hilarious.

We look. Like. Fools.

Clearly we cannot take a decent photo together to save our lives. That’s okay, because frankly, if the zombie apocalypse hits, I’m fairly sure I’m cannon fodder...

So I’m looking forward to going to visit Little Miss Bean... and maybe Sandi and I will break our goofy streak?

Erm... who’m I kidding?

Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]

I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.

If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.

Food Waste Friday: Two Surprises

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Surprise One: I'm actually participating, and have am not only posting, but am posting twice in one day.

Before. Stuffed to the brim. Gross.

 Surprise Two: The wasting wasn't as bad as I thought, although I could have Not Wasted almost all of this (as well as the carrot and ginger soup that I threw out before I remembered to take a picture).

The leftover quinoa at the top was supposed to be turned into quinoa cakes, the carrot soup was meant to be redeemed of it's dreadful over-saltiness by having some leftover cauliflower added to it, and the noodles and shepherd's pie were - let's face it - meant to be eaten.

The turkey and dumpling soup was left out for four hours or so by accident, and even I'm not brave enough to chance it, although clearly the best course of action after discovering this oversight is to put it back in the fridge to rot some more.

Mmm-hmmmm.

After. Less full. Not gross. Enough food to bode well for the grocery budget tomorrow.

And now we're ready to shop (<-- ten points if you can say it with a Russian accent and fan yourself with cash at the same time. Thirty if you know - and love - the commercial I'm referring to.)

WilliamB: Why I Don't Make Yogurt

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This is a deliberate riff on The FrugalGirl’s penchant for making yogurt and her philosophy that You Don’tHave To Make Yogurt.

Here’s a chart that will warm the cockles of The Mrs’ financial heart:

annual consumption, quarts	24
	cost per quart	annual cost	annual saving over most expensive option
Stonyfield Organic	3.50	84.00	0.00
Dannon commercial	2.00	48.00	36.00
homemade from Happy Milk	1.75	42.00	42.00
minimum amount I'd pay not to make yogurt			50.00

Outside Is My Friend

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Hey, remember last year?

Remember how I was writing a series of posts about my Backyard DIY project, and how we were being so frugal and fixing it up ourselves, planting a garden, and making it a great space for our family to spend our time outside?

Remember the tomatoes, and the resulting post that is - bar none - My Favourite Post Of All Time (today)?

Remember how I went back to work, and got pregnant, and the Backyard DIY tag fell by the wayside, never to be heard from again?

Here's what you missed:

Our tomato harvest languished on the vine until the snows came, which is why this year we've broken out the seed starter (the same one as last year, since we're obviously such frugal gardeners <-- perfect spot for sarcasm font) and started seeds for three tomato plants and no more.

NO MORE, I tell you.

This is also why the kids and I have spent the last week of great weather (in Muskoka, anyway) in our front yard.

(Hey, breaking news: I've actually managed to get a post scheduled for tomorrow and the next day, which these days is like me posting every three hours it's so extreme. Also, one is by WilliamB, who's not making yoghurt, and one is by Lannis who I'm seeing on Monday (MONDAY!), and who is about to scare you with our scary - and slightly blurry - mug shots. Forewarned is forearmed.)

What I've Been Doing

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Hanging laundry on the line in March, and getting inordinately excited about it.

Cleaning out my daughter's coat, because no day can be called a success without a pocket full of sand to show for it.

Sitting back while Miss chooses her own clothes. That, or else a blind man lives in her closet and passes her things to wear, which would Not. Be. Creepy. At. All.

I've been doing other things, like cleaning and cooking and organizing and even - gasp! - reading. But most of those things don't make for good pictures.

Unlike these:

Lannis: TAG! Over-sharing ahoy!

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Since Sandi so wonderfully set up that tag list of over-sharing, I figured I’d compile my own eleven items and give you lovely folks another chance to fall victim be involved...

To quote The Mrs:

There are rules to this game. I'm not following them. I'm sorry. (I told you: I'm lazy, and I cheat.)

Here are the rules I'm only partially following:

You must post the rules. (Check!) - Post eleven fun facts about yourself on the blog post - Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you've tagged - Tag eleven people and link them on your post - Let them know you've tagged them!

And re: cheating at tag? Yeah, I wasn’t even tagged so how’s that for busting in and taking over? Ha! HA!

But I’ll actually use some of Jane’s original questions (I’ll put them in square brackets)... mostly because my brain has trouble functioning without direction... but some of her questions I really have no answers to — and no offense, Jane, I’m too lazy to bother thinking about it concretely to decide on an answer (and I have a tendency to digress as it is)...

Eleven things about me you may or may not care about:

ONE [Your best holiday ever.] Christmas is always my favourite, but until the boys were old enough to light up about the magic of it all, there’d been a handful of rather dull ones (yes, growing up sucks). Basically I like the “good food” time of year... it starts with Thanksgiving (in Canada that means October), and runs right up until the holiday leftovers have all been consumed sometime in January...

TWO [A skill that you don't have but wish you did.] Photographic memory. Yes, I consider this an envious skill. My memory is the shits... and I use that term in the negative.

THREE [Best decision you've made.] To not care anymore. Very freeing. I probably piss off more people this way, but I don’t care! See how that works?! Bwahaha!

FOUR [Scariest thing you've done in the past 12 months.] Follow doctors’ orders.

FIVE [Your favourite blog right now.] Even though Sandi said I could write a post about sex — yes, she DID! I have visual proof! —

I am still not posting my actual favourite blog. It’s a Tumblr that involves zombies, feminism, proper tie-tying techniques, sex, eloquence, books, profanity, and all-around awesomely intelligent geekery. It possibly includes a screen name that makes some women want to hyperventilate because they hate a certain word that much (it’s just language, people, chill — the only power it has is what you give it).

Also? Possibly one of those descriptive statements is false. Or not. Heh.

My runner-up current favourite blog, which probably is still pushing the boundaries of propriety, but is oh-so-endearing, and is written by a woman who clearly cherishes her husband and family, is I Will Never Say No in 2012. Mrs Yes’ New Year’s resolution for 2012 is to — yep — never say no to her hubby’s advances. Here’s her first post, which includes a list of hypotheses for her personal social experiment.

SIX [Favourite quote that sums you up.] Risk being unliked. - Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird.

And now for random items to round out the list...

SEVEN I consider myself more spiritual than religious, but if I hear a siren, I automatically send a prayer to God that the people who need help are okay. I have taught my children to do the same.

EIGHT I believe that there are friends that come and go in our lives for a purpose: we learn something from them, and them from us, and what it is we learn may be unknown to either parties.

NINE I use a lot of profanity and I have a dirty mind. Seriously. Sandi has me set to PG for the blog. If there are no kids around, I can rival drunken sailors and I won’t even notice. I blame the mini-career in bartending.

TEN If it’s crafty, I’ve probably tried it. And I tend to have a lot of innate skill in areas where it’s nigh impossible to make a living. (No, there was no intentional sexual innuendo there. Yes, I really do have a degree in Creative Writing.)

ELEVEN The night I met my husband, I told my mom (partially in jest) that I was going out to the bar to pick up. Our first date was the next day. Something something if-you-set-your-mind-to-do-something something. Next month we’ll have been together twelve years.

And now, because I’m even lazier than Sandi, I’m just going to cut and paste the end of her previous tag post here, and hope she remembers to add in the linky widget (let’s see if she’s proof reading my ramblings, yes?)

From our Mrs:
And now for some rule breaking. Instead of tagging people whose blogs I already know about, what I'd really like to know is all about you folks; you patient, long-suffering readers who have stayed through morning sickness, laziness, and even poems to Terry Pratchett.

If you blog, I'd love to visit. I've added a linky widget and would be overjoyed (happy, anyway, if we want to avoid overstating things) if you'd let us all know who you are. As for you that aren't into oversharing on the internet, but want to make an exception just this once (because you looooovvve me), then maybe give us a little snippet of eleven things about you in the comments. Or seven. Or twenty. Whatever.

Ed: I DO proofread. Silly goose. But the linky stays on the original post. GO THERE.

Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]

I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.

If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.

<< With Love, From Barfville

With Love, From Barfville

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So my house is literally covered - dripping, really - in vomit. (Except not literally, because obviously.)

Monday night, Miss woke up crying and then BLEEEAARGH! All over her nighty-gown, blankets, pillow, and all 613 (5) stuffed animals she Must Sleep With.

Last night, Seth was barfing too much to enjoy our semi-regular, put the kids to bed and indulge in beer and good cheese date, then Junior decided to wake up barfing just as I got myself and the baby into bed. So that was another middle of the night tubby, another middle of night load of laundry, and another middle of the night bout of sighing, moaning, and generally feeling sorry for myself.

As for the baby, she's barfing with such gusto that I think she's doing it on purpose just to mess with me. It's to the point where if I even hear a wee intestinal gurgle I jump (and possibly yell a little in fear.)

She's in my head.

I'm at the point where I wish I was the one with the barfing problem. Except not.

Still Here. Just Reconfiguring.

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I haven't left the house since Bean was born, except for an excursion to my parents house for my Dad's birthday.

It's been awesome. Seth has been my Getter Of Groceries (which probably explains why we've stuck relatively close to the budget), and I haven't turned on the computer for days. I'm even typing this on his phone from - you got it - the couch.

I don't plan on being this much of a Luddite for long, but just like when I was pregnant, the irresistible lure of the couch is proving hard to ignore at naptime and after the older kids are in bed. It might have something to do with my insatiable infant daughter, whose goal seems to be to gain a pound a week, but who has yet to master Not Falling Asleep While Eating, resulting in hour long feeding for twenty minutes worth of milk and run on sentences.

I've got a few posts planned for the next few days, including some budgeting navel gazing, more experiments in search of the perfect granola recipe, more guest posts from WilliamB and Lannis, and a guilt ridden hate letter to daycare.

Fascinated, aren't you?

In completely different news, I still want to get to know you reader folks, so if you haven't already (and we both know you haven't) head back to Thursday's post and introduce yourself.

Because one thing this phone can do is run Google Reader, and I have a lot of couch time to fill.

Cheating At Tag

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Dear Jane has tagged me (er, a month ago) in a go-round of questions you may or may not want me to answer.

There are rules to this game. I'm not following them. I'm sorry. (I told you: I'm lazy, and I cheat.)

Here are the rules I'm only partially following:

You must post the rules. (Check!) - Post eleven fun facts about yourself on the blog post - Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you've tagged - Tag eleven people and link them on your post - Let them know you've tagged them! 

Eleven things about me you may or may not care about:

ONE I used to keep a notebook with every book I ever read in it. I started when I was nine years old, and kept at it for fourteen years until one day I stopped. With no reason.

TWO I heartily dislike my cell phone and wish it would die. I never, ever turn it on unless I need to call my husband and that's usually when I find out that the battery died a week ago.

THREE My husband's name is Seth. We got married ten and a half years ago. He's pretty awesome.

FOUR I don't care about cake. I'll usually have a piece at my birthday or someone else's, and I'll enjoy it, but don't ask me to eat the leftovers. Now, pie on the other hand...

FIVE I have a really bad habit of not brushing my teeth at night unless Seth makes me. Yes, I disgust myself.

SIX I'd rather stuff more garbage into the bag than change it. And by "more stuff", I mean a whole other bag's worth.

SEVEN I worked at McDonald's for four years in high school and university. Technically, I was fired, because after my second year of university I never called to tell them that I found another job that didn't involve slippery shoes and evil-smelling clothes.

EIGHT I spent every summer from 9 to 19 living at a Bible camp that my parents ran. I loved it, and if I had a time machine I'd go back to 1997 to visit.

NINE The first two years of university were spent pursuing a degree in Creative Writing. Hold on, let me type that for you again, just in case you missed it: a DEGREE in CREATIVE WRITING. (Don't laugh unless you want Leslie to cut you.) Consequently, my four year history degree was squished into my last two years.

TEN I wish I was eating peanut brittle right now.

ELEVEN I have a hard time finishing lists, and often feel like my last few entries are lame.

Now you know everything you need to know about me, including the picture of myself I like the most. You're welcome.

And now for some rule breaking. Instead of tagging people whose blogs I already know about, what I'd really like to know is all about you folks; you patient, long-suffering readers who have stayed through morning sickness, laziness, and even poems to Terry Pratchett.

If you blog, I'd love to visit. I've added a linky widget and would be overjoyed (happy, anyway, if we want to avoid overstating things) if you'd let us all know who you are. As for you that aren't into oversharing on the internet, but want to make an exception just this once (because you looooovvve me), then maybe give us a little snippet of eleven things about you in the comments. Or seven. Or twenty. Whatever.

<< Nothing But Granola Goodness

This time last year: Suggestion-less, I'll Call It Artisan Bread

Nothing But Granola Goodness

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It's been a while since I've sung the praises of Molly Wizenberg, so here's a little ditty:

I made her latest granola recipe - with only two minor substitutions - and It. Is. Great. I meant it as an oatmeal alternative at breakfast time, but have instead been eating it by the handful whenever I can. And I haven't been sharing.

Granola doesn't even place on a list of my top 1500 foods, yet somehow this recipe has transcended all other foods for me in the past three days.

Seriously. It makes about seven cups of goodness, and the only reason I have about a half cup left is because I only just made more and didn't want to suffer a moment that I didn't have any in the house.

It might be the molasses (one of my substitutions), it might be the crispy, light crunch, or it might be that small taste of salt against the sweet.

Whatever. It's good. Enough trying to figure out why.

I've tweaked the recipe again this second time, because it calls for one and a quarter cups of pecans, and while pecans call sweetly to my soul (they're definitely in my top 1500), they are expensive enough to string on a chain and wear as jewelry, so if this pecan free batch that I just made is still drool-worthy without them, my cheap little soul will be smiling all the way to Bulk Barn.

If I ever perfect my version of the recipe, I'll post it for you, and I might even - a la Jeanie at The Tasty Cheapskate - do up a little cost breakdown for you.

Because nothing tastes better than this granola, except possibly this granola but cheaper.

<< The Cloth Diaper Saga: Or, Back In The Saddle Again

This time last year: Gooooal! The Sequel

The Cloth Diaper Saga: Or, Back In Saddle Again

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If you missed it (intentionally or otherwise) the succinct version of my flirtation with cloth diapers goes a little like this: (uh, if you missed it intentionally, I know of a few great blogs that should have something more entertaining up today.)

• I started thinking about the cost of disposable diapers around Junior's first birthday, and went looking for advice at BlogHer.
• I ordered a cloth diaper rental package, and he took quite a few different kinds of (expensive) cloth diapers for a spin. 
• I (tried to) calculate the cost difference of disposables vs. cloth, and - with much navel gazing - we made the switch - to the cheapest option: prefolds paired with Thirsties Duo Wraps.
• I spent some time banging my head against the brick wall of daycare obstinancy, when we all found out that cloth diapers have germs...twice.
• I got discouraged by the bags of poop and (sort of) gave up on cloth. For a while.

And now, here we are. Back in cloth diaper land. I can't lie (I can, you know. I just won't), I'll miss the convenience of cloth diapers, especially now that Junior's poop bears absolutely zero resemblance to baby poop.

We had some stink issues to deal with, as well as a problem with diaper rash, so this happened, and I felt like a washer woman from 1912. It was heady stuff, believe me.

I used a few drops of Dawn and boiled the crap out of those diapers. Quite literally, of course. I think they're clean, now, but if anyone has any suggestions for keeping them so, I'd be more than willing to follow your every word of advice.

What I won't miss (at all) is the cost of buying disposables every two weeks or so to the tune of $19.99, or $0.17 per diaper even for the cheapest of the cheapo brands. (As in: insert Tab A into Slot B.)

Little Miss Bean is going to be in disposables for a little while longer - mostly thanks to Shopper's Drug Mart and their five dollar diaper sale, but I plan to order about $140 worth of diaper supplies for her in the next few days, and get her started in cloth during the daytime as soon as her little belly button is all finished being gruesome and vile.

I'm keeping her in disposables overnight, though, because I'm just not up to origami in the middle of the night. Once she endears herself to her mother by sleeping through the night, it will be cloth then, too, but for now: I choose sanity. And trying to avoid putting the diaper on her head at four in the morning, in the dark.

I have another question to ask those of you who are cloth diapering gurus: wipe solution.

I know. Not a question. Let me rephrase: In the past, I used a few drops of baby soap and water for the wipes. I think this may have contributed to the stinks. Now I'm experimenting with using baby oil (about a tablespoon or so), a few drops of essential oil (grapefruit right now, but I also have tea tree and calendula)), and water, all mixed up in a one cup peri bottle (Thank you, midwives. Again.). Is this a good idea?

If not, send help.

Lots.

Preferably from Pampers.

<< I'm The Mother Of Three. THREE, I Tell You!

This time last year: Project Grocery: Satisfactorily Un-Extreme

I'm The Mother Of Three. THREE, I Tell You!

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And there are a lot of "Thank you"s to pass around. Fitting, for a girl born during the Oscars.

The birth story is short: I woke up at six in the morning with contractions, our A.M. Sarah hung around with us for a few hours in the morning because we weren't sure if my water had broken or not (it hadn't), my parents picked up Miss and Junior, we walked uptown to rent Zombieland, we ate wings for lunch and after Sarah came back we ate sushi for supper, we left for the hospital around eight thirty at night, it hurt a lot and then it was over and we had a baby at 12:14 Monday morning.

That's Sarah and Dianne. They look chipper and totally alert. The best I can say about us is that we look awake. Barely.

Sarah made me The Best Toast In The World, Diane was generally calm and sweet (and brought candles and rose petals for the tub. Seriously.), and Natalie did the paperwork. These women rock my baby world, and I'd like to take a completely serious moment to tell them that I love them sincerely and owe them more than I can ever repay with bread, boter koek, or even maple candy. Bless their dear hearts.

By four in the morning, we were home and in bed, and overjoyed in a sleepy way to be so.

In the intervening week, we've spent a lot of time trying to get all three (THREE!) of our children in one picture, with no luck. Ungrateful wretches that they are, they Will Not Pose. Or, if the two oldest sit still long enough, the youngest will be puking. It is a fact of nature I did not know existed until now.

The best we have been able to accomplish is this:

I've spent some time re-learning how to breastfeed, since in my I've Already Had Two Kids And Now Know Everything Possible There Is To Know About Raising Children (Under Four), I forgot how to do it in a way that doesn't leave wounds. We're good now, although my little girl has a disturbing (to me) tendency to fall asleep - multiple times - during meals. I just don't understand her.

Fortunately, this has not stopped her from gaining Two. Whole. Ounces, and during his regular check up today, Junior assured me that her heart sounds great.

I would be remiss if I did not also profusely thank Leslie, WilliamB, and Jane for their guest posts that allowed me to be plugged into only my newest daughter's mouth and not the internet all week. Bless you, too.

<< Lannis: Blackmail The Fourth

This time last year: Hand To Mouth

Lannis: Blackmail The Fourth

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Recently Mr Lannis and I went over my blackmail file of silly things our kids say, and well, really enjoyed the insanity I’ve managed to document.

In fact, we enjoyed it so much that he suggested I post more blackmail to share with you all.

And I’m happy to oblige.

In that regard, this post is brought to you by snippets of dialogue that actually happen in my household... been keeping this list for a while, because, well, let’s face it: I’m writing baby books that will hold a record amount of blackmail material (for previous posts, see here, here, and here).

(Seriously, I’m running at 13 pages of unintentional humour that’ll one day be printed out and added to their keepsake bins. They’ll thank me. Eventually. After they’re married and have managed to repress it all and/or have children of their own and can appreciate the sentiment...)

For the ease of reading, since this list began (literally) over a year ago, and up until this point I’ve been referring to my boys by their age, I figure for the Blackmail posts I’ll use their initials, R and L, for clarity purposes.

R is our current 6 year old (y/o), and L our 4.5 year old Casanova. Hopefully you’ll get a chuckle from at least one of these... enjoy!


September 2010

[After I’ve spent a day painting the powder room a nice dramatic chocolate colour.]
Me: What’d you think, Kiddo? Look good?
R [almost 5 y/o]: Yes, Mommy, poo brown walls make sense in a bathroom.

January 2011

[Chickadees and nuthatches are in the backyard.]
Boys: Mommy, Mommy, can we feed the birds?
Me: Well, see, that’s the thing about nature, boys. If we feed the birds, we’re really just feeding the cats.
R [5 y/o]: Shakespeare’s big enough. Can’t he stop eating now?

R [5 y/o; shows me pic in book]: Mommy, this is a picture of a mean girl.
Me: How do you know she’s a mean girl?
R: Because she’s delivering cookies that will electrocute you.
Me: Yep. I suppose she would qualify as pretty mean.

R [5 y/o]: Mommy, you’re a good Mommy! [D’aww!]
L [3.5 y/o]: Nope, she’s a long Mommy. [Stretches hands wide.] Lookit how looooooong she is! [Sigh.]

February 2011

L [3.5 y/o; finally making a decision about breakfast]: Mommy, I want toast with French on it.

[L crying; 3.5 y/o]
Me: Would you like to cuddle for a second?
L: No. I want to cuddle for one hundred seconds!

R [5 y/o]: Hey Mommy, lookit my guy! [Shows me toy.]
Me: Oh! It’s a little seal. Very nice.
R: No, it’s an evil seal that flies.
Me: Of course, how could I be mistaken? [Insert eye roll here.]
R: I don’t know. It’s soooooo obvious.

March 2011

L [3.5 y/o]: When hedgehog hits the ceiling, hedgehog gets hurt.
Me [eyeing hedgehog Beanie Baby]: Yes. So maybe we shouldn’t throw the hedgehog at the ceiling?
L: Then how will he kiss the ceiling?!
Me: That’s a good question.
L: Yes. Yes, it IS a good question... [Walks off mumbling to himself.]

L [3.5 y/o; looking at a Sesame Street activity book with a picture of The Count** on the cover]: Mommy, this at-tivity book has a grampire on it.
Me: You mean a vampire. Yes, it does.
L: No, Mommy. Papa does his voice. It’s a grampire.

Me [to L, almost 4 y/o, and WON’T SHUT UP!]: You are a very cute chatterbox.
L: Mommy, you are a very cute eyebrow.

April 2011

2011’s first lesson from Mother Nature:
R [5 y/o; playing in the backyard]: Mommy! We found a bird! It was sleeping, so we put it in a cup in the playhouse so it won’t be disturbed.
L [Almost 4]: Yeah! She’s sleeping! And soft!
Me: GET IN THE HOUSE AND WASH YOUR HANDS WITH SOAP! NO, LONGER THAN THAT! MORE SOAP! SHAKESPEARE! CLEAN UP YOUR MESSES!

R [5 y/o]: Sometimes, when people have fat bellies, they pop out a baby. That’s where babies come from.
L [almost 4 y/o]: Is Mommy going to have a baby?
R: No. No, that’s also why she doesn’t like birds.
L: Yes, she really wasn’t happy to see that dead bird...

And because I have to leave off with a geeky reference...

L [almost 4 y/o]: The Easter Bunny bringed us stickers from Star Wars the Vampire Strikes Back!

Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]

I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.

If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.

<< Guest Post: Jane's Blueberry And Cream Cheese Muffins

This time last year: Cheapskatery...Errrrr...Frugality

Guest Post: Jane's Blueberry And Cream Cheese Muffins

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 Continuing along in the twin themes of "things about food that other people write" and "friends who are kind enough to write things for me so I can spend some time not writing", it's my pleasure to introduce you to Jane. If you've been around here for any length of time, you'll know her from the comments section (just like WilliamB). 

You should also get to know her from her blog {AdventuresinDinner}, where she is delicious and funny...erm, her food is delicious and she is funny. And stylish.

* * *

Hey there, I'm Jane from {AdventuresinDinner} and it's an honour to step into the Mrs' shoes. I know everyone reading this thinks that she is just the bomb too and are so happy to see the appearance of baby bean.

Apparently I've got a real thing for blueberry muffins this winter since this is my third time round.  I think these are my total favourite though so I've saved the recipe for the Mrs.

Blueberry and Cream Cheese Muffins

Cream together: 1 1/2 cups sugar, 10 T. butter, 1/2 cup cream cheese and 2 eggs.

Add 1/2 tsp. baking soda, 1/2 tsp baking powder and 2 cups flour.
At the same time add: 1 cup sourcream and 1 1/2 tsp. vanilla.

Fold in 3 cups of frozen blueberries.

Top the batter with a mixture of: 1 cup walnuts, 1/3 cup sugar and 1 tsp. cinnamon.

Bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes or until a knife comes out cleanly.

Have a nice warm muffin and toast the Mrs. and her lovely family with a cup of your favourite beverage.

<< Guest Post: How To Organize Your Pantry With WilliamB

Lannis: Blackmail The Fourth >>

This time last year: The Wednesday Bookshelf: Mostly For Me, Really

Guest Post: How To Organize Your Pantry With WilliamB

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I don’t think my guest posting skills have gotten any better in the half hour since I wrote my first guest post.

(Ed: I disagree, and - like I said yesterday - I'm so excited to peep at WilliamB's pantry shelves. Aren't you?)

* * *

Arrange for visibility.
Put taller things behind shorter things. Unless you have many of one item, stagger your columns.

Like this:
x x x x x
 x x x x x

Not like this:
x x x x x
x x x x x

Go vertical.
Stack similar items on top of each other. Use a riser, shelf or stair-step to lift the things in back over the things in front. Use some tall skinny containers.

Store like with like.
What exactly is “like” depends on you. It could be all screws together, or all drywall fasteners together, or all baking flours together but cornstarch with the Asian ingredients. It could be shape, by taste, by being used together.

Use the right shape of container.
Rectilinear is more efficient than circular. Lids that stick out over the container use up space for no good purpose.

Use the right type of container.
By which I mean boxes/bins/cans. Bins are easier to stack and organize than bags. Bins are unlikely to break and spill. Bins can be easily be labeled. Bins don’t slump over each other or slither off the shelf. Many different containers can be put into a bin, that bin can then be pulled out all at once. A pile of shoe boxes is easy to work with, a pile of shoes is not.

Label.
Let me repeat that – label. Let me try again: label your stuff!! Name and maybe date should do it. If you store your spices upright in a drawer, write the type of spice on the lid. If you store 13 types of hot sauce in a fridge door shelf, write the type on top. If you don’t do this you’ll spend half your life lifting jars up and putting them back again. I can’t speak for you but that’s not how I want to spend my life. Doing this also helps you when you get to surveying, below. Sometimes a pix is better than words. The classic examples are shoes and kids’ storage bins but I’m sure there are others.

Variety costs.
It’s harder to organize many different kinds of things than just a few kinds of things. So if you have lots of different things, look them over and decide if you really need that many. For example I own dozens of TellFresh storage containers but only 5 different sizes of them.

Spend some money. (Maybe.)
If you have some money to spend, getting the right containers and labels really pays off. After many long years I found TellFresh (available at the Container Store, a company that does not, alas, pay me each time I sing their praises). They come in many shapes and sizes: tall short, fat thin, round square rectangle. The lids don’t stick out over the edges. Some lids fit more than one container. The containers are stackable. They’re dishwasher, microwave, fridge, and freezer safe. For simplicity and storage efficiency, get as few sizes as you can manage. I use five, from 1c. to half gallon.

The other thing that’s worth spending some money one is labels. I use rewritable labels on my reusable containers. The Container Store (again) has a kit of 3 sizes of label, Sharpie, and eraser. These labels are dishwasher, microwave, fridge, and freezer safe. Mine have survived years of use, washing, and freezing. (And still the Container Store doesn’t pay me to shill.)

Survey.
Every now and then look over what you have. I don’t mean a glancing look, I mean a thorough investigation. Pull it out, touch it, draw it (photography doesn’t work it), whatever it takes to really perceive what you have.

<< Guest Post: WilliamB's Freezer

Guest Post: Jane's Blueberry And Cream Cheese Muffins >>

This time last year: Mrs: One, Evil Fridge: Zero, Inklings Paperie: Seventy-Two