Showing posts with label fine art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fine art. Show all posts

Monday, April 1, 2013

Whyyyyyyyy?!






{books we own}


{books we borrow}







My DIY project this week: 

Restoring valuable tomes from the public library to their original state. 

I'm thinking washi tape and glitter glue could be a nice touch...


xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

My Cart is Half Full




{Shopping Before Bean} 
The fox fur could be an exaggeration, but I vaguely remember the styled hair as being a real thing}




{Shopping After Bean}
aka Harry Houdini reincarnated. 
Seriously. 
Our Vegas cart-seat escape show is in the works.
And I'm only 96% sure that's chocolate on my dress.





I used to naively chuckle at the frazzled mothers hustling their offspring through the aisles of...anywhere. 

(basically, any public building with shelves and things to grab off those shelves) 



My Target Retreat bubble of isolation could be popped by so much as the seemingly shrill gurgle of a newborn's coo, and I'd wheel in the opposite direction, 
clicking my judgmental heels towards the fancy-free lanes of life filled with things like, "Fragile," and "Look Don't Touch." 


There were many peaceful, tantrum-free excursions during those years among the land of humans who don't internally combust when they have to put a pair of pink glitter mary-janes back on the shelf. I'll admit that.

But, oh how those years were lonely! 
When I was all by myself, leisurely carting through without a care in the world...
Lonely!

With no one to fling the entire contents of my purse onto the conveyer belt for me. 
Lonely!

Or be the Thelma to my Louise in a Mentos pilfering spree at checkout stands across the state.
Lonely!


Luuuuuuhhhhh-Ohhhhhh-Nnnn-Eeeeee-Leeeeeeey

Funny how something starts sounding unreal the more you say it?

But until you've heard a 16 month old cheer you on as the basket gets filled with "NANAAAAAS" (bananas), "COOOOOKAHHHS" (graham crackers, which he thinks are cookies), and "BASthKKKETBALLS", (oranges/melons/anything round like a basketball), 

well, 

it's just all a bit unreal.


Especially, the love you can have for a toddler wailing in the key of firetruck engine through aisle 8 while you try and calm him down by singing " The Hip Hop Bunny Came Today" from the Easter episode of Dora the Explorer.  



unbelievable. 




Don't worry, I'm laughing at myself too. 



xoxo

{Bon Bon}






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*never go through aisle 8. Or whatever the squeezable fruit puree aisle is in your store.
**or the shoe aisle. Never.Ever. 
***Now I naively chuckle at the mothers of two, three, four, or more kids. 

























Thursday, March 21, 2013

15 Months: The Real Version



At 15 months old, the Bean is officially that perplexing equation of equal parts baby, toddler, and tornado. 

The kind of tornado whose path leaves no bookshelf unbooked or goldfish cracker uncrackered. 
Probably at least an F3 on the storm scale, or whichever one makes you hide in the bathtub with two chocolate bars and a bottle of coconut rum.



I can't imagine (remember)* what it's like to encompass such a vast amount of unbridled natural energy at my disposal each and every day. 
Morning. Afternoon. Evening. 








The smattering of wooden building blocks meeting hardwood floor means, "Awake," or "Hey You Guys Trying To Have Fun Without Me, Well, I'm Still Here, I'll Be Here Allllllllllll Night, Blalguauealughughdufjjfuerur!"



Sometimes, I have to remind myself that his middle name, the "J", stands for "James" not "Julius Caesar."**

Especially during the reigning dictatorship of 6PM-8:00PM.
His onslaught of macaroni and heavy taxation of patience will not defeat us. 
Not this time, Bean Julius!





8 minutes later...




We have made it to bath time. Shells of our former selves. But, alive. {Have you ever scrubbed thirty noodles off of hardwood floor? Enough to make a grown man cry. I've seen it}


And finally, we're in the home stretch! Pajamas. Toothbrush. Book. Mini meltdown because Daniel looked at him funny. Crib. Door closed. This must be what an IronMan competitor feels like when they crawl through the finish line. Sweaty, wobbly, covered in pee. Yup. 



Then, the strangest thing happens several hours later. After the celebratory champagne has been poured. After we've toppled wearily into bed. 




we look.at photos.of.the bean. 

The same Dictator Bean who has ruled from dawn 'til dusk since November 2012.

The same tornado on legs that pelted an entire table of Starbucks' patrons with cheerios because, "Bean Julius, you cannot drink caramel macchiatos," is not in his manifesto.


It's only been about 3 hours,(of blissful peace and freedom to use the bathroom alone for all), since we last saw him, and yet we can hardly wait to hear those wooden blocks crash on the floor tomorrow morning. And the next, and the next, and the next...

He's got my vote for, forever. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}








*Legend has it, I would gleefully leap out of my Daisy Kingdom daybed at 6AM on the dot back in my bright-eyed-bushy-tailed years and yell, "Woman, where are my waffles?" My poor parents. 
Let's take a moment of silence for all of those Saturday mornings I took for granted.

**OR "Joule." But I thought that an obscure physics joke might be too much of a stretch, even for me. 
Plus, growing up, we had a cat named Brutus. So, things are really coming full circle in my life...obscure history joke. 
I'm done.
Seriously though, R.I.P Brutus. 







Monday, June 11, 2012

Baby Banner


 
 10PM-3:59AM
4AM
5AM

5:32 AM
 
5:58 AM


 5:59 AM
6:10 AM
6:15 AM
6:26 AM
 6:30AM HULKSMASHHHHH!!!!


and to think, I used to complain when the sweet and gentle birds chirping outside my window woke me up.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}







Friday, January 6, 2012

Fine Art is Baaaaack


See those three tiny hearts?
took blood.sweat.tears. to draw those darn things.
and they still ended up looking like flying butts.


Here is Baby Bean's official introduction into my {Fine Art} posts.

And in case you're wondering if Daniel can really hold him with one {stick} arm like that...
no. no he cannot.
I was just too lazy to make everything realistically proportional.
This isn't Thomas Kinkade, people.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}



Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Lock it Up






Locked out of the house. Banished to the backyard.
We could survive 15 minutes though, right? Until the munchkins' mama came home. Right?



And then, munchkins' mama realized she didn't have her house key either.
And munchkins' papa was out of town.
And the only available spare key took 2 hours of driving to track down.

A mutiny of grumbling stomachs and peed-on-carseats ensued.

I'm assuming you can tell who did what.



I still love my Thursdays though.


xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Monday, August 1, 2011

This is Married Life










1 Husband running around in his underwear+5 months pregnant Wife+1 ShopVac+372 towels+0.0 hours of sleep=

extra hangers for tshirts

Tshirts that I need to re-wash, because all of them were used to soak up water.

totally worth it.


xoxo

{Bon Bon}





Wednesday, June 29, 2011

I Am Woman




























Ahhh, my summer as a boy...Is this when my love of Legos and Matchbox cars began? Is this how I gained my inner confidence, positive outlook on life, and dry sense of humor? Perhaps.

At least my hair grows fast.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Hi. I'm Awkward.




















Just another ordinary day in my life. I'm gonna make my kids so proud.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Have Mercy






Dear Baby Bean. Please choose more of your father's genes and stuff. You still have time. Thanks! Oh. and love you.

xoxo


{Bon Bon}

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