Mellon in Oz

I think most moms would agree with this statement: "I want to look stylish and put together, but I don't want to have to think too hard about it." Right? Now, I'm not talking high-fashion, land-in-the-pages-of-Vogue stylish. No, what I'm talking about is looking stylish enough to feel confident that no one is whispering about my lack of fashion sense as I chase my kids all over the playground. The solution I have found is this:

A neutral base. I tend to lean toward the grey spectrum, but I thought I'd switch it up a bit for this post and go with navy blue instead. I am a wild child. So this outfit is pretty simple: tank, short-sleeved cardi-type shirt, jeans and flats. Perfectly presentable. This is where you start--or even where you end if it's been one of those days where you were lucky to even get to brush your hair. But, maybe you don't want to be quite so plain jane. Maybe you want to add a little personality all the while keeping in mind that caveat of not having to expend too much brain power to get there. This is where the statement accessory comes in. It's all a matter of how far you want to take it:

Maybe you just want a small pop of color like these red flats and a dainty gold charm necklace. Or are you feeling a bit bolder? Click your heels three times...

Simply throwing a cap on my head makes the look feel like it has more depth. But perhaps you're not really a hat person.  Try this then:

A solid color scarf and heels--ideal for walking down the yellow brick road. Too warm for a scarf?

Try a brightly colored necklace instead. I could go on and on, but I think you can see how the statement accessory can liven up your daily uniform. Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't warn you that the statement accessory works best as a single entity. Things can get messy when you try to make all of them play together. Then you end up with an ensemble that even the most brainless of us would know to avoid:

I think I better get to clicking those heels again.

Dream Weaver

So it's probably no big surprise that at times I can be a bit--um--anxious. If I didn't already know this about myself, I would have found it out when I googled "dreaming about not attending class all semester" as apparently these types of dreams are quite common manifestations of the angst that can lurk in the depths of one's pysche. It would seem that I am more emo than I knew as I find myself having this dream quite often. Of course, my version doesn't exactly follow the normal pattern, but that really isn't a big shock either, now is it?

My dream always involves an elective math class for veterinary school. In the dream, I go to the class and then decide that I'd rather take an english class instead. But I forget to withdrawal from the first class, so I end up with an F on my transcript. I always wake up sure that I really do have a marred Ohio State University transcript sitting in the filing cabinet downstairs. For those first few minutes of consciousness, I am really and truly freaked out. This puzzles me for a few reasons:

1. I was only in vet school for one quarter before I admitted to myself that I really didn't want to be a veterinarian--so why is that the setting for this dream? Is it because I feel like I've let down all those classmates who voted me Most Likely to Succeed since my definition of success found me being an elementary school teacher turned stay-at-home mom? I guess it makes sense in a way because even though my time there was brief, it was a major turning point in my life. So maybe the dream has me returning again and again to that moment like it's the crossroads montage scene in a coming of age movie?
2. Why Math vs. English? Is this representing some internal struggle that I've had because I thought being smart meant I had to go the math/science route, despite the fact that I actually enjoyed writing and reading more? Am I subconsciously regretting that I never pursued writing as a career? Does my subconscious think that I'm not measuring up to my potential now that I've thrown away my math/science brain? Or am I neurotically reading too much into the dream by looking for an answer to a riddle that was never posed?
3. Why do I care so much about an F in the dream? In real life, I skipped at least half of my lectures. The night before my canine anatomy final found me at home watching 7th Heaven reruns instead of in the lab studying with all of my peers. Clearly, I wasn't engaged in my studies, yet I still managed a 3.21 GPA.  Am I feeling guilty knowing that I could have had the 4.0 if I would have put forth just a bit of effort? Do I feel like maybe I should have gotten an F or two as that would probably have been the fairest representation of the grade I deserved based on the amount of work I did? And what does it matter anyway? I withdrew from the program 3 weeks later. And that was 10 years ago. Why is this still floating around in my brain? Which brings me to my final question...
4. What kinds of anxiety dreams do people who have been home schooled have?

If anyone out there has any sort of insight into any of the above, please share them with me. It appears I'm in need of a little psychoanalysis.

Sickies Suck

I knew something was wrong when not even Brownie Bites could get the littlest to smile. Sure enough, a visit to the doctor on Monday found us with a diagnosis of strep throat--again.

Awfully pathetic looking, isn't she?

Mellon Was Here

I bet a few of you were wondering if I was actually at the lake last weekend since there seemed to be no photographic evidence to that effect. Well, yes I was there. You'll recall of course that Drew never, ever voluntarily picks up a camera to take a picture of me. I've tried everything from sly suggestion to all out temper tantrum throwing to get him to change his ways, but the message just hasn't gotten through. However, you might also recall that David--my go to photo man--was there. So I do have a few pictures--not one of them is in any way, shape or form flattering though. Not that I've ever let such a thing stop me before, so why start now?

Doing what I do best at the lake: nothing at all.

This would be my "terrified Chase and/or Nate will fall overboard and Andy will run them over face". Scary--on so many levels.

 This is me appearing more relaxed, yet I'm not really as you'll note by how tightly I've got a hold of Amaya's life vest. The other arm is wrapped around to grip the gate--just in case that sucker decided to spontaneously open on its own. What? It could happen. I know, I know. I'll look into taking some sort of anti-anxiety medication before the next boating trip. 

Also...what is the deal with those shiny legs? Stupid sunscreen. This is what I get for trying to be healthy. Never again.

Crafting with Mellon

Ok, so the title is a smidge misleading. There is no crafting involved unless you consider stabbing a candle crafting. So I have these candles, right?

And they're nice enough. But one day I found myself getting fidgety after having been kept on hold by the doctor's office for 10 minutes. So, I did what any other completely sane person would do in that predicament: I repeatedly stabbed one of the candles with a flower pin that was lying next to it. Turned out that I kind of liked how the pin looked stuck in the candle. Even wax cylinders deserve a little bling don't you think?

I'm kind of excited about this discovery because I love pins--especially vintage ones--but I hardly ever actually wear them. So, now I'll just go bedazzle all of my candles with them instead. I think this very involved, complicated technique would also work for those misfit earrings that you just can't bear to toss. Oh and here's where the candles are right now:

As you can see, I'm still playing around with this mantle. I got my 4, which I love, but I'm not sure about the candles there.  I'm thinking I might scoot the L4 toward the middle and maybe have the clock overlap it a bit. Like a collage. A Mellon Collage. That would totally be considered crafting right? So now you know the secret of my patented decorating method: keep trying things until you eventually find the composition that works. It's an art form really.

Character Analysis

I thought some of you out there might appreciate a little bio-type rundown of a few of the main players in our weekend at the lake. Let's start with Drew's older brother David--or Uncle David as he's called over and over and over and over...

You see, he's the outdoorsy one. The one willing to traipse down to the lake with all three kids to do fun stuff like throwing a hook into the water in the hopes of catching a real, live fish. And when that baby's caught, he's the one who will kneel there and hold the slimy, scaly thing while the children ooh and ahh.

 Of course, as soon as the fish is released back into the water, the chorus of "Uncle David do it again" starts. I wonder if he's considered earplugs?

Up next, we have Danielle who is married to David. Aww aren't they just the sweetest couple you've ever seen?

Being married to Uncle David gives her the title of Aunt Danielle. Everyone loves AD. For reals. This is because she is the definition of southern helpfulness. Take for instance the bunting she hung on the decks for me: (I think I need to get a few more for next year)

 Or the table she helped me set:

Plus, she loves to laugh and is always willing to partake in my crazy schemes. Like the time I wanted to send sangria home with my brother to give to my mother. I couldn't find a thermos, so...

  I put it in a baby bottle. Which I thought was rather ingenious. But that's neither here nor there. The point here is that even if she thought it was the craziest, most ridiculous idea she'd ever heard, Danielle played along.

Andy's younger brother is Adam. (Did anyone notice my intentional name switch to further the alliteration? Drew-David; Andy-Adam. Anyone??) Or Uncle Madman as I like to call him. He gets this name because he's the one who will run around the house with the kids acting like a crazy lunatic. The kids of course LOVE THIS. He is a good sport. You have to be to give a thumbs up after emerging from Cap'n Andy's Maiden Voyage. I sat that first boat ride out this year for much the same reason that I sat the first boat ride out last year. 

Our final character sketch of the day is of Jenn who belongs to Adam. Awww another adorable couple. So sweet it makes my teeth hurt. Or maybe it's that last piece of birthday zucchini bread I ate a minute ago. No matter.

Jenn is the musically gifted one. She's the Aunt who will happily sing songs about shoulders, knees, toes and ummm something about burping? Oh no wait it went top, middle middle, bottom...no that's not right either. Obviously, I am no danger to her role as the melodic member.

I also found out just that weekend that sista has mad veggie chopping skills. She makes a garnish tray that could make Martha weep tears of joy. I think Jenn's vying for that southern helpfulness title--but you know Danielle might have a thing or two to say about being usurped. I think that's what they're discussing here actually.

I just hope it never escalates past bubbles and into water balloons. No wait, I think that would be kind of fun actually. Someone remind me to pack those next year...

Perfecting the Pout

She may be not quite two yet, but my daughter has already learned how to use her sad eyes and pouty mouth to manipulate others into doing her bidding. I mean have you ever seen such perfect execution in someone so young?


She works the pout better than her Mama even.

Let's just hope she's a better at driving than her mother too.

Weeeeee!

That's all natural too--no gel required. He gets it from his father's side. No really he does. Here's proof:

Brother Devotion

See this girl.

The one in the adorable Hanna Andersson yard sale dress? Well she worships her brother. Truly.



She prances after him and follows him wherever he goes.

If he slides, she slides.

If he drinks,

she drinks.

Most of the time, Chase is a model big brother letting her tag along after him with nary a complaint. But sometimes, he'd rather just be alone. And when that happens, well it really isn't very pretty.

Jiggle This

When Mom was here making me go thrifting (yes it's her fault), I bought a still shrink-wrapped 80's set of alphabet cutters for JELL-O. I had planned on tucking them away to pull out on a rainy day, but Chase spied them as soon as I walked in the door. As you know, the kid is a bit letter obsessed. So for the past two weeks he's been begging me to make JELL-O so he can cut out a C for Chase. That child is relentless when it comes to begging for something he wants. I thought I was stubborn, but I've got nothing on that one.

They had a great time and were chugging away cutting out letters until Andy reminded them that they could eat their creations. After that, there was no convincing Amaya to stop shoving the wiggly little letters in her mouth. Good thing I got sugar free, right?

If you plan on doing a similar activity, might I suggest you not choose the red variety of JELL-O. My fingers were pink for 2 days. No joke.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

Remember last week when I mentioned that I was on the prowl for a lamp for Amaya's room? Well, lo and behold but what should I find the very next time I hit up the thrift store:

I love the little lamp on the left with it's beribboned shade and flower pull, but I wasn't sure if it would be tall enough for the spot that I envisioned it in. So, I bought the one on the right too--planning to switch the shades if it were the one that made the cut. One lamp was $5 and one was $6 though I can't for the life of me remember which was which.

 I ended up liking the first lamp just fine. So now I have to find a home for the other one. I think I might locate it a new shade and put it in the guest bedroom. That will be a project for another day I think.

And of course the final test:

  Yep, she works all right.

Most. Fun. Ever.

What could be better than starting the evening by eating ice cream with sprinkles and gummi bears?

Why ending it by getting completely drenched in the town center fountains of course.

Anyone see a drowned rat running around here anywhere?

Here's the story, of a lovely lady

It would seem that my daughter has channeled a new hair style icon.

Who's going to be the one to tell her that the 70s are over? Not that it would faze her at all--she'll just 'keep on, keep on, keep on doing it right'--well her version of right anyway.

Design on a Dime

Well 25 dimes actually. Still a bargain though I think. It all started when my mom was here a couple of weekends ago. We hit the thrift stores where I found this lovely for $1.50: 

I loved the crocheted butterfly, and I've been looking for things to put on Amaya's dresser now that all of the bottles, bibs and burp clothes have moved on. But that frame. Ick. I originally intended to paint it, but well, you know I'm awfully lazy about stuff like that.

So when I came across this for $1.00 while out yesterday, how could I resist?








Putting them together gave me this:

And here it is in place in her room. 

I want to find a lamp to stand behind it, but I need one that won't break if she pulls it down on to the floor. So that's next on my list. Oh and that doll? Patricia brought it back from Brazil for Amaya. I have the greatest friends, don't I?

They tooka his blood Drew, they tooka his blood!

Chase had to have blood drawn yesterday so that we could see if he's still allergic to nuts and peas. Poor little guy had to give up 4 tubes--4! I'm grateful it was Drew that got to take him for that little adventure.  If you couldn't tell from the picture, let me just inform you now that he was not at all happy about the ordeal.

He insisted on trading his short-short sleeved shirt for one that would cover his band aid which is why he's shirtless in these pictures. I guess he thought if he couldn't see the evidence, it would be like it never happened? The above two pictures were taken right after he returned home. Please note the way he's holding his right arm as that pose will become important in subsequent shots.

This picture was taken about an hour later:

And this one after his nap which was about 5 hours after his blood was taken:

Finally, this one was taken after dinner--a full 8 hours after he was stuck:

Does that boy know how to milk an injury or what? Frankly, I don't know where he learned such a thing.