Gifted and Talented: The Video

If this ballet gig doesn't pan out, I think the Big Ballerina has a future in the dog training world. Cesar Millan....watch your back.

Buster = 13 weeks old
Big Ballerina = 12 years old

goldilocks and her new shorts...this pair is just right.

It's no secret. It's actually pretty much the norm these days. But now that the Big Ballerina is getting close to moving out of kids' size clothing, it is becoming hit or miss. And it's always a miss. When you find a great deal. On a cute pair of shorts. That aren't too childish. Or worse yet. Trampy.

You know what I'm talking about. The adjustable waistband. That little strip of elastic sewn into the waistband that allows your kid to wear pants. Or shorts in this case. That are actually long enough.

That little piece of elastic is the first thing I check for. If it's missing, I pass it by. Until I happened upon this pair.

Not too childish. Not too short. Not too blingy. No rhinestones. No peace signs. No tie-dye. Just a nice soft, basic white denim. And less than $10. Perfect. Except for one thing.

No adjustable waistband. *crap*

I bought them anyway. Maybe. Just maybe. They would fit my 12 year old ruler. Yeah right. As always, they fell to the floor. But this time, instead of returning them, I decided to fight back.

I found this tutorial that taught me the secret. BUTTON HOLE ELASTIC! Who knew?

I hopped in my car. Made a quick trip to Joann's. Picked up a small package of this magic elastic. Unfortunately, they only had black, but nobody sees inside anyway. Raced back home. And went to town following this tutorial.

Twenty minutes later I was done. Not because I'm a great seamstress. As you can see from this photo. But because this is EASY people! Do NOT be afraid. Seriously. It's EASY!

But the Big Ballerina thinks I'm pretty darn impressive. "Hey Mom, you can take over for Miss Shonda as Wardrobe Mistress (at her ballet studio) when Brianna graduates now."

"ummm...not quite, BB. But at least I don't have to look at you digging your size 6X shorts out of your butt anymore. Here, have a sammich."

Shorts - Paper, Denim & Cloth reg. $38 

$9.99 at Marshall's

Now if I can just figure out how to make bikinis for skinny tweens that actually fit, THEN I'd finally make my fortune.

All she wants to do is dance...

I am all baa-llet'ed out.

It's been a whirlwind of performance after performance for the Big Ballerina.

I think it was even getting old for BB and her Peep.

But they are being trained to be true professionals. The show must go on, you know. So they put on their biggest smiles.

And danced with all their hearts...

and feet.

Next weekend it's on to recitals. Where this little one...

Will also get her turn in the spotlight.

day 150: brace face

I am still plugging along on my Project 365. Today was day ONE HUNDRED FIFTY! My little ticker on the site that keeps me motivated tells me I am currently 40% complete. I can hardly believe it. I am so, so happy I've made it this far. I love looking back on each month to see what was going on. I get such a kick out of viewing the little thumbnails and remembering certain events. If you've ever considered doing a Project 365, I highly recommend the site I'm using. Super easy to use. And lots of nice people.

Today's photo will definitely be fun to look back on. Especially in, oh...about 20-24 months. When these little brackets and wires have completed their duty. And are finally removed. It will be so much fun to see the before and after.

And speaking of before and after's, I'm currently working on a project that is actually turning out really well. If I do say so myself. And I'm doing it without the help of my partner in crime. As he is still in other parts of the world. Fighting pirates. Or some other such nonsense. Leaving me to "carry on" with our projects as a solo act. When I am clearly much better as a duet. But give me a few more days. And I'll be back to reveal my latest creation.

Mother's Day

It was another year of BSD being away on Mother's Day. And the ballerinas stepping up to the plate. They served me breakfast in bed. And for the first year ever my toast was actually toasted! *woot*

I spent the afternoon helping at the Big Ballerina's ballet performance at a retirement home. I got a little choked up walking into the building. Thinking how sweet it is for these girls to do this. And how much BB loves dancing for this audience. Made me think of my mom. So I told BB these were all her grandmas today. It made my heart swell when the girls were done. And they rushed out of the dressing room. "To socialize" with the audience.

In the evening we ate sushi on the beach. And BB danced.

 This time....

For her real grandma.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Old Wood, New Art, Happy Campers

I really should be working on my photo class project. But I don't want to go there. Too many missing pieces. And only two weeks of class left. Gives me a pit in my stomach. Need a photo of the Big Ballerina but the girl is never home when the sun is up. And trying to shoot without any source of natural light is worthless. 


Case in point.

Ack. 

So instead I'll share our latest house project. The painting is all done. Larry has moved out. The new bedroom carpet is installed. And most everything is back in place. There is still a long list of things I want to make happen. But it all takes time. And money. So we progress at a snail's pace.

The Big Ballerina's bedroom really needed something on the walls. Something fun. Something large. Something beachy. Nothing I found in the stores appealed to me. And if it did. The price tag sent me running.

Luckily, BSD still has some free time. And some power tools. And some of those old pickets we used this summer to make our fish sticks with.

And earlier this week he turned a few of the pickets into a new piece of art for BB's bedroom.

I love it! BSD loves it. BB loves it. And most importantly, sock monkey loves it too. Oh, and the best part? The whole project cost about $10 for paint and hanging hardware.


Now I'm dreaming of some trim around the window. A cute rug next to the bed. And a fun chandelier to hang in the corner over her nightstand. BSD's not on board with the chandelier idea just yet. What do you think?

tickled (not) pink...

Just a sneak peek at the Big Ballerina's bedroom. It's all painted out. I even channeled my inner Martha this weekend. And sewed a duvet cover for her bed. 

I haven't done that in years. But I got tired of trying to find "the perfect one" in stores and online. So I went back to Macy's where I bought her sheets. Grabbed a set of Martha's sheets in the perfect blue.

On clearance. With an extra 30% off. *woot*

Took the flat sheets from both sets. Cut them to size. Finished the bottom edges. And sewed them together. (Leaving an opening at the bottom, of course.)

An hour and $15 later. Her bed was made. And LB was asking me to do the same for her room.

I decided to use different sheets for each side of the cover so she'd have options. And so she could actually make her bed herself. Just pull the duvet up. Fold over the top. Done. Instant coordinated look.

There are still a bunch of changes to make in her room. But tonight she actually chose to go up to her room to read.

And LB couldn't resist ambushing her.

Murphy's Law...

Murphy Brown. Murphy's Law. Whatever it is. The universe is determined to undermine my good intentions.

I promise I won't talk about paint for the rest of the year. But just as I'm moving forward on a set course, I find things like this in my mailbox.

Yes, Coastal Living magazine smacks me in the face with "Fresh Paint Ideas for every room!" and "Have fun with color! The best ways to brighten your home and your life."

I shouldn't read it. Right? I should just ignore it. Information overload. I must resist. But my design ADHD wants nothing more than to devour this issue. Crap!

And the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. The Big Ballerina had to write an acrostic poem for English this week. With five extra bonus points if she could make it tell a story and rhyme. She was not thrilled with the assignment. I told her, "Write about something you know. It will make it much easier." Here is her poem...

Behind the door is green and yellow paint.
Every time I see it, it makes me want to faint.
Do I paint it purple or blue?
Red and orange are good colors too.
Over and over we paint a swatch.
Onto the walls and then we watch.
My poor bedroom! It's becoming a botch.

She was stumped on the last line so she googled, "words that rhyme with watch." And then she asks me, "What does botch mean?" Ba-bam! 105 on her homework assignment.

Off to grab a Diet Coke and read my new Coastal Living magazine. Happy Friday!

Ten on Ten: December 2011 - FAIL

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Can't pull it together to post my Ten on Ten tonight. Hate to miss my favorite day of the month. But my eyes are sinking fast.

Side Note: Finally got the nerve to sneak my camera on stage with me as I volunteered tonight. Pulled it out during intermission while they warmed up. Snapped about three shots. Turned around. And there sat the professional photographer. Staring right at me. Needless to say, I covered my name tag with my camera. And hightailed it out of there. Luckily, he had moved to the other side of the stage when I returned.

Pasta Angel Ornaments (aka...a crappy gift to give your friends)....

MERDE! That's what the ballerinas are supposed to say to each other for luck before a performance. Have you ever heard that word? I have. Plenty of times growing up. As the daughter of a French-speaking mother, that's what she always muttered under her breath when I'd walk back through the door telling her I just missed the bus.

So imagine the looks on our faces when my mom and I sat down in the theater for the Big Ballerina's first "real show" and saw the word printed in the Playbill. We were convinced these people were clueless. Why on earth would graceful ballerinas tell each other to take a crap?!?

Well...six years later, we have finally been told the story behind the strange expression. Here you go...

Never say “break a leg” for good luck to a dancer. It is always “merde”. For you French aficionados, it really does mean “poop.” The origin of “merde” has a colorful history. In the early days of ballet, companies would use live animals in their performances. When one of the animals would have an accident on stage, one would yell “merde” from the side stage to let the dancers know to watch out so they wouldn’t slip. No injury or slippage, good luck for the dancer! Additionally, those attending public ballets or theatre performances would arrive in horse coaches. When an event was successful, the carriages would have a traffic jam with horses waiting and, in turn, creating by-product. Obviously, the quantity of the by-product was proportional to the carriages that had visited the theatre, and was an indirect measure of the economic success of the evening. It was then related to “merde” meaning have a good theatre performance.

Along with the expression, the ballerinas exchange "Merde" gifts for luck. This year BB is dancing as a Big Angel and a China Ribbon dancer in the Nutcracker. To represent her part, BB made macaroni angels to give out as gifts.

I have been making these macaroni angels for over 15 years whenever I need a small gift for a large number of people. Or if we need a fundraiser around Christmas time. They are easy and cheap to make. And, um....adorable! And now that the ballerinas are both proficient with a glue gun, I was able to turn them loose with the supplies as I sat eating a box of candy cane Joe-Joe's. With milk. Yes, I've learned a little something about the benefits of child labor from reading Oliver Twist along with BB this semester. 

And after 15 years, I discovered an easier way of making these that I will share here with you in case you need a "crappy" gift of your own to pass along this holiday season. Instead of spray painting the pasta, get a couple of bottles of the small white acrylic paint at Michael's. Pour about 1/3 of the bottle into a cup. Add a little water to thin it out a bit.

Then just roll your pasta pieces around in the cup with a paint brush until they are covered. And stand them up to dry.

It's basically a paint and glue project. Easy peasy. Here's what you'll need:

bow tie pasta (wings)
rigatoni pasta (body)
elbow macaroni (arms...duh!)
wooden balls (heads) (they come in a pkg of about 30 at Michael's. I think they're about 3/4")
Spanish moss (hair)
small spool of very thin gauge wire (halos)
spools of thin ribbon (hangers)
white Folk Art type acrylic paint
black Sharpie (for drawing face)
blush (for giving them those glowing angelic cheeks)
hot glue gun
hot glue sticks

MERDE!

My cup is full...

I had a birthday. On Monday. Shhhh. I didn't turn a year older. I just had some cake. And got a few really fabulous gifts.

Don't you just love when someone knows you so well that they can pick out the absolute most perfect gift? That's the kind of birthday this was.

My friend, Anne has this killer screen porch. Perfect spot for relaxing after a day at the beach. This summer she added a hand painted wooden sign that reads...

When the sky turns pink, it's time for a drink.

It was love at first sight. So guess what I got for my birthday this year? My own version of that sign. But with a different sentiment. That I adore. And looks oh, so pretty in my kitchen. Thank you, Anne!

BSD wasn't here to celebrate. So I took the liberty of buying my own gift this year. I was going to splurge on a new lens. With his blessing. But instead I decided to buy a pair of shoes. For a lot less. That mean a lot more.

A pair of Tom's for me. And a pair for a child in need. I am happy. If you've ever considered a pair of these, I highly recommend them. They are crazy comfortable. The winter answer to flip flops.

And then, the best present of the day? A special gift made by the Big Ballerina. She didn't have BSD to take her shopping so she had to think outside the box. Not only am I touched to my core by her thoughtfulness and effort, I am also incredibly impressed with her creativity. I think she may be onto something here.

For those of you who don't know, I have a major Diet Coke addiction. Diet Coke from a fountain. With just the right amount of ice. No bottles or cans, please. So for my birthday I received my very own, specially decorated Super Big Gulp. Along with a matching card that read...

"May all your cups be filled with 2/3 ice and Diet Coke."

Now.that.is.love.

A Haunting We Will Go...

Tonight's the night. They are so excited. They've been planning it for months.  They even learned the Monster Mash and Thriller in class. Crossing our fingers it doesn't rain on their zombie parade.

Happy Halloween!

Back in the Saddle Again...

Summer's over. I can't believe it! The first day of school went off without a hitch.

The Little Ballerina came home with two tickets for good behavior. She needs five to buy some stickers from the Treasure Chest. Hopefully she'll earn the rest before the end of the year.

The Big Ballerina survived her very first day of middle school. She found her way around the campus to each of her classes. She figured out the combination on her new locker. And she only cried for 10 minutes when I questioned her about the directions on her Pre-Algebra pretest tonight. Because she wasn't supposed to have ANY help. She's still mourning the break-up with her Safety Patrol belt.

As for me, my eyes are crossed. And I'm in the beginning stages of carpal tunnel from the five pound packets of papers the ballerinas each brought home for me to complete tonight. I'm already tired of making lunches. And once carpool driving starts, ironing their clothes will get kicked to the curb too. It's all about survival at that point.

Meet the brood...

I graduated from the University of Vermont. With a Bachelor of Science. From the school of agriculture. I was even inducted into Alpha Zeta. The agricultural honor society. Yet during my four years there. I never sowed a single seed. Nor handled an actual animal. Unless you count a hairy frat boy or two. After a night of quarters. Heck, I didn't even have a plant in my dorm room.

I wasn't a crunchy granola. I didn't wear Birkenstocks. Or live in Slade Hall. With the clove-smoking vegetarians. But I did attend of a few of their monthly pot lucks. Because my parents took off to Europe. And forgot to load money on my meal card.

I was basically a city girl. At a country school. But UVM was my school of choice. Because of the easy access to some great skiing.

Maybe it's karma. Maybe it's the residual fumes from Slade Hall. Maybe it's this damn fear of cancer. That prompted their adoption.

But we've had them about a month now. It's about time I introduced you all. So without further ado. Meet our newest family members.

Henrietta

Dixie

 and Lola

Also known as ...

Nugget, Patty and Fingers.

Yes. We have a sick sense of humor.

Ohana means nobody gets left behind...

I've mentioned before that BSD was born in Hawaii. Of two haoles. Whom I'm not sure can even swim. Yet in his mind. This is BSD's family.

When we were dating. And relatively young. And living on the North Shore. BSD never missed a paddleboard race. He'd see that race posted on the bulletin board at Foodland and he was always the first one to turn in his registration form. The opportunity to paddle among pro surfers. To get a t-shirt with an "official" Da Hui logo. Not one of the "fake" ones you could buy in a surf shop. Gave him such a major woody.

To his credit, these races were pretty hard core. Paddling from Sunset Beach to Waimea Bay. While laying face down on a massive surfboard. For four miles. Often in some pretty choppy seas. Was not an easy task. BSD definitely earned those t-shirts. And wore them proudly.

Now remember, we were dating at the time. Which means you do things you wouldn't normally do. Just to impress your date. See where this is going?

Yes. I did. I signed up to paddle in one of these races with BSD. Me. The non-surfing, non-ocean swimming girl from New York. We drove down to Waikiki and BSD rented me the longest surfboard he could find. He was such a sport. He stayed by my side the entire time. Even as every last entrant paddled by us. I know he was chomping at the bit to get on with the race. Yet he patiently paddled beside me. Cheering me on.

After many grueling hours. OK, maybe about one mile into the course. Water safety rode up on his jet ski. Told us I was drifting too far out to sea. Then towed me to within yards of the finish line.

I paddled the last few lengths to the finish. Ran the 100 yards up the beach through the chute. Got my tshirt. And sat. Waiting for BSD to paddle the rest of the course. Poor BSD. I'm pretty sure he came in dead last. But he didn't care. He still got his tshirt. And he wore it proudly.

I never wore mine. Never felt worthy. We still have it. It's packed up in a box in the attic. Along with BSD's other race tshirts that he has since retired. So...ballerinas. When we're gone. And you're going through our old things. Keep your eye out for that box of tshirts. They meant a lot to your dear old dad.

Fast forward...15 years? BSD now sponsers his own version of Da Hui's North Shore paddleboard race. On August 21st, the third annual race will take place here in Virginia Beach. Some people will paddle the traditional prone style. Some will stand up and actually use a paddle. And this year there will even be a few kayaks. There will be handmade trophies. A custom made surfboard raffled off. And tshirts. Of course.

The Big Ballerina will be paddling a special new board.

Styled after a traditional prone paddleboard.

Complete with a fancy water bottle and chin rest.

A board made especially for her.

By her dear old dad.

As for me. We're not dating anymore. 

I think I may finally sit this one out.

Crossing the finish line in 2009.

 But I think I'll get BSD a pair of those "black shorts."

So he can continue to live out his fantasy. I think he can wear them proudly.