Halu-Halo

And he tells me that I'm the gullible one

We have quite a few running jokes here in this house.  And the butt of most of these jokes is me.  Hubby says that I should be lucky to know that I can bind the family in humor, even if I'm the subject of it.  Sure, babe, thanks a lot.

My family especially consistently discusses my infomercial habits; that I am the queen of gullible.  That even while vacationing with my parents one summer, after watching Billy Mays for a couple of hours on a Sunday morning, I bought so much Orange Glo that they used it for a couple of years in their home.  Or how I ordered this horrible makeup on autodelivery from QVC, and that they weren't even my colors, but boy - were they a deal!  

And don't get me started on the Home Party Planning stuff.  

I can go on and on.

But I digress.  

This post is not about me.

Because look what the cat dragged in.  

Yes, it's this.  Yes, my Hubby brought it home.  

My kids jumped up for joy.  I literally said, "O.M.G" while I rolled my eyes into the back of my head.

Really?

It sucked by the way.  I almost killed myself by hitting my forehead.

It's even worse than this, which he brought home a couple of months ago.

I really should pass my tiara over to him, don't you think?

 

TGIF!  

 

I like snow.

I know.  Saying I like snow is like uttering blasphemy, with the way the Northeast is being slammed by storms.  We were finally dealt an honest to goodness storm here in Northern Virginia earlier this week, bringing down trees and knocking out electricity to thousands of folks.  Hundreds of cars abandoned from accidents, and commute horror stories abound, to include one from Hubby, who took almost 3 hours to travel 10 miles.

But I do.  I still like snow.  This point of view, of course, comes from someone who likes to take the opportunity to reset, re-prioritize and to take a breath during the winter, and especially, when it snows.

It's the cold on the tip of my nose that wakes my senses.  The reflection of the bright white.  The care I am forced to take when I walk.  When it is cold, and when it is snowing, my actions are purposeful, and I appreciate it.

I become selective as to what my agenda is for the day, and where I need to go, and I get to catch up with all of those things I neglect when it is warm outside: planning out my projects, my next class, my long term goals.  I pull away from over-scheduling and 1 on 1 time with each child is often and consecutive.  

Hubby and I dream of retiring in a log cabin home in upstate New York.  I see myself quilting or reading or knitting and looking out the window and seeing the snow come down, and watching my children and future grandchildren playing in it, making snowmen, pulling each other on their sleds.  

To think I was born on an island!  And raised in California.  But after our years in Germany and even our harsh winters in upstate New York, I was converted to the cold.  

I hope that you all are staying warm and safe this week!

Detoxing

from this:

If you celebrate Halloween, how did it fare?  

I would say that my kids cleared about a standard pillowcase's worth of combined candy.  

Don't believe me?

That's a lot of candy.

Which made for such great temptations.

It took the whole week for me to resist.  I was very much like those zombies in this new show I've tuned into, milling mindlessly around the candy.  Negotiating with it, pleading for it to just jump into my mouth so I don't have to bear the guilt of opening it.  Sometimes growling it at, wishing it wasn't so bad for me.  

I am glad to say that I resisted many moments.

But some, well, I won't divulge too much.  Except that it was dayum good.  Not just darn good, but dayum.

How's that for grammar!

 

But really, I was pooped.  I realize that in all the buildup of an event, much is left to the wayside.  Those oh so important things like laundry.  The sorting of endless pieces of paper the find their way into the house.  Much needed quilting, some knitting.  And reading!  Yes, but laundry would have to take the cake.  I still haven't reconciled that that is something I will have to do. forever.  I've made peace with the dishes - but the laundry?  Anyhoo...

We always very much need a holiday from our holidays here at the Halu*Halo residence. 

But I'm above water now.

Blank Canvas

When I unpacked our linens a couple of months ago, I had the arduous decision to donate a couple several sets of window and shower curtains.  I still had the lace curtains I used in Germany, the not so stylish ones I used in South Carolina, the super duper inexpensive sets I used in New York, the handmade ones from our first time through here in VA and the most recent and beloved ones from Texas.  Curtains are, without a doubt, one of the best ways to change up a room.  

Unfortunately, most of the time, they cannot be reused in a different home.  Window sizes, amazingly, vary! Who knew that windows come in so many sizes!  And in the rare occassion that I have found myself in a home with similar sized windows, just as we have now, our family tastes have changed.

I am starting to find the same issue with my wallhangings.

Now that we have painted almost every surface of our house, changed a few furnishings and settled our spirits in our home, some of my quilts don't work where I think it will work.  This quilt doesn't fit the green of our living room, and this wallhanging doesn't have it's own niche to call its home.  And while I am glad the kids quilts still feel right on their walls (because they generally choose the same color scheme for their paint color), I am struggling to find a fit for  my eyelet love.

It's obviously not the end of the world, but my home and the family is the start of my world, and currently is a blank canvas.

 

So I am starting with the kitchen!!  The big beautiful brown is screaming at me, and this palette from my scraps screamed back at me too.

Scraps and remnants are amazing creatures.  And this is why I never ever throw fabric away that's more than than a 2 inch square.  

The curtains can go, but my scraps will not!  

Let the games begin!

Conundrum(s) Solved

Yes!  Take that, supposed easiest pattern on Earth!

 

...and the armholes were easy! ....and it is a perfect match with the flower clip I made!  Most of all, R loves it, and that's what matters the most. 

And after a couple or so weeks of having stark spackled walls, we went from a what-were-we-thinking-horrendous-salmon color (seen here on the left), to sampling several others,

to finding a perfect dark khaki

 

It's actually named differently, but this is the best way for me to describe it.  We love it, and are relieved to make our place feel less like a construction zone.  I have always thought that it takes about 6 months to really get unpacked and to start to personalize, and we're right on time.    

It's been a wonderful, productive day.  :)

One hour dress? Suuure!

I had an hour to kill this morning while waiting for our handyman (this would be another long story), and it just so happened that Baby J was sound asleep.  I had always wanted to make a pillow case dress, and decided that it would be a perfect time to try my hand at making a dress for my sweet little one.  Probably the most simple dress known to man, the pillowcase dress takes approximately less than an hour to make. 

But the pillowcase dress had never met a girl like me...a girl who is quite stubborn at doing things the easy way.  

I looked at these directions, and barely skimmed at what was written.  I looked at the pictures and dove headlong into cutting and pressing, only to find out that I  had totally misjudged the sizing.  Baby J would have looked like a flowered caterpillar had I tried to even fit her in it.  

Frustrated, I purchased a pattern to get the proper fabric dimensions I should be working with.  Surely that was all I needed, right?  

Suuure!

I again dove in, and I cut and sewed, and came out with a dress only large enough to fit my older daughter's baby dolls.  

Cursing, I looked at the chart I was working with...and I found that I made a dress sized for a baby doll.

At that point, our awesome handyman had come and gone...he even had time to chat it up with my children (he is a family friend) about these crazy rubber bands...and two hours had passed.

And Baby J was up and crying.

I yelled at my sewing space.  "Work with me!" I pleaded.  My boys looked up from their books, and  after probably seeing me with thread in my hair and fabric all over the floor, decided that Mommy needed to work this problem out on her own.  These are good children, I tell you.

But finally, after nursing, and after the third hour, I had a proper fitting dress, cute enough for my patient babe.  I know you see those strings on the ties...I had to whip that up super fast because I. wanted. to. be. done. already.  I do promise to redo them when I have finally mustered enough nerve to get onto making my older daughter a semi matching dress.

Yes, I won't let this thing conquer me.  Because I can sew dangit!  Just not clothing.  Yet.

The lesson - read and follow directions. 

Delirious now...

 1.  Deliriously frustrated -  The cabinets are finally up...finally. (They are beautiful!)  There was a plumbing issue.  (Isn't there always one?)  Surely this is another HGTV lesson I neglected to understand, that inevitably other issues pop up that bring you both beyond the timeline and budget.   

 

 2.  Deliriously excited - Countertops are coming on Friday and I get to pick wall colors.  I can't contain myself.  It is really getting here, the end of the road of this major renovation!  I am proud of myself that even in the midst of babymoon I haven't had an emotional breakdown thrown a serious tantrum.

3.  Deliriously confused - Baby J has gone from the two time a night nurser to an all night sleeper, which invariably had converted her to an all day nurser.  I am not sure what I like better.  I realize that I value my time to do the dishes (see #1) as much as I do sleep.  Did I just write that?  (shhhhh).  I am living in perpetual jet lag.

4.  Deliriously confusing to other people - My favorite statement lately is "you know what I mean," and I rely on Hubby to read my mind.  Thank goodness that for the most part, he does.  But I feel sorry for anyone that have had to hold a conversation with me.  I can only imagine the little doses of Filipinoisms that I've thrown out there.  If you were subjected to that lately, don't tell me about it, promise?  

5.  Deliriously amazed - Sometimes I am overwhelmed with those Hallmark-commercial-type crying sessions.  I've got 4 wonderful children!  An awesome husband!  Shelter, food, fabric, yarn, clutter, and boxes to unpack...a reliable job!  We get to see the world and I get to stay home with my babies.  I am a blessed woman.  

Hopefully, sometime after the countertops are installed (and I have a sink) but before Baby J decides to wean, I will be a little more coherent.  :)

I need my roots touched up...

...from this whole remodeling thing.  HGTV makes it look all so easy, but what it doesn't show is how displaced a family of 6 can be when the hearth of the home is literally pulled by its seams so that something prettier can be installed.

(these are pretty maple cabinets waiting for their spot. we decided to say goodbye to our white builder grade cabinets)

 

It's not as if we have a large kitchen...I call my space a German kitchen because it's quite petite.  But I learned how to cook in Germany and have become quite efficient despite the size, and with our large eat in area it is still the hearth of the home and ends up being where everyone congregates.  I love this space.

Now that it's all in pieces, I'm a little discombobulated!  The kitchen is the first thing I unpack after a move, and the last thing to pack up before we close up shop.  It's like losing my favorite pair of earrings, or missing my size eight knitting needles.  These are "needs", not "wants."

I know, you must think that by the way I am talking is that we are doing this DIY, but we aren't...we solicited professional help...and still I have grown 8 gray hairs since the beginning of this process.  My postpartum hormones have run amok with all of the noise and the thoughts of not knowing where I am going to make my coffee. Our family, after all, survives on coffee and the pot and cups and sugar etc are like monuments in our kitchen - cherished, revered, and IN place.  

Oh well, I guess it's paper plates and plastic cups for us, and the more than occasional washing of pots and pans in the bathtub, because there is no way I will want to eat out or order in every meal until everything is put back together.  

Breathe.

Deja Vu

 "Was I sleeping? Had I slept?"  (Fight Club, 1999)

 

A few days ago, while nursing Baby on our bed, I looked out the window and gasped.  For a microsecond I lost my sense of time and was transported back to 2005, and instead of Baby in my arms it was R who was happily being fed while I lost myself daydreaming of the trees outside.

"It feels like I've been here before!" I yelled out to Hubby after I had regained my composure.  He was unpacking a box in one of the other bedrooms.

"Um, it's because you have!" he answered with his usual sarcasm.

I giggled in realization.

Indeed, he was right.

How many times had we driven such a long distance to a new home with Hubby taking the lead in his small sedan?  But this time, the road was familiar and comforting, bringing us back to a home we knew well once before.  What a rarity!  And I welcomed it with open arms. 

 

Because moving is hard enough, isn't it?  The unpacking, the inventory, the redecorating, the negotiating of space...the adjustment of the children, the friend-dating, the reestablishing of one's identity...all of this is so much easier when you are familiar with your physical location.  

And what a beautiful area it is.  Hello four seasons, the rich colors of fall, and the crisp winter.  Hallelujah for the tree-lined streets, and the birds that invade our backyard.  And thank goodness for the sidewalks that encourage folks to walk and enjoy the weather and the outdoors.  

Bring it, Virginia!  We're so glad to be back home!

No longer having sticker shock

We came.....

and less than 2 years later, it is time to leave...and it is definitely now official with the arrival of these stickers.

 

It seems that with this move, we have been graced with red stickers.  In the last 6 moves, we have had green, blue, white, black, and different hues of these colors.  Hubby and I have in the past tried to remember which color belonged with what move, and we have laughed at our nomadic life.  Who else can talk about these little stickers with such fondness (or disdain?), but a military family?

These stickers, and moving, have become such a part of our being that I have stopped removing them if they are not easily seen.  My children's crib still display four of these stickers, and I refuse to remove them...they are like patches on a uniform, or stickers on a suitcase, or on a car bumper.  

My dresser had a few right next to one another, and I even wondered if this was a small game that the packers played with one another...did they talk about how many stickers certain families had?  Do they, too, try to guess where these families have been?

...such importance attached to those tiny little things...

So here we go again, our everyday existence in boxes, our most important material commodities reduced to numbered stickers.  We've done it 6 times before, and with this 7th time it has proved itself to be a part of a ritual within myself that I thought I would never, really, get used to.  

But as the paper and tape flew in the air and the boxes were being packed I felt a sense of normalcy.  And acceptance.  

That the friends I have made will always remain in my heart.

That the things I have in these boxes do not define my life.

That the Family Hubby and I have grown will flourish wherever we go.

And thus is the story of this Military Life.