a dear friend of mine decided last week to spend some time on me and used her lovely talents to make me a miniatures box of sweet things. she sent me a mini fairy painting (she makes great fairies):

a mini elven shoe (connor declared "that is not an elf shoe mom, elves are huge.) He's such a Tolkien purist.... (he probably doesn't know who Tolkien is truthfully)

also a mini teacup and saucer and some super cute animal chocolates that my husband wondered if she made herself and I said, "no of course not! she's not crazy!" and then I looked at them and thought maybe she actually had made them and in that case I feel very bad for not taking a picture of them when I said I would but I was just too busy eating them to go get my camera.

I picked up some batiks last week for my newest project that I want to do (add that to the dozens of projects I want to do but haven't started yet. frightening.) but I won't tell you what it is I'll just show as I go along. I like the fabrics a lot, but I'm going to have to replace the darkest one with something just a little lighter... any suggestions on a great batik store online?

wish me energy, motivation, and a happy baby! (he turns 1 next week!!)

that day, 9 years ago, when my first baby crawled over to the bathroom door and started crying because it was shut and I was inside; that wasn't entirely surprising.  I had watched 3 sisters do that to my mom and I really didn't have much of a problem with just leaving the bathroom door open. So I did, and everyone was happy.

the fact that that same baby who is now almost 10 still thinks he can come and knock on the bathroom door and ask me a question or have a full conversation or get me to sign a permission slip when Daddy is just in the other room is beside the point.

the point is, that I am having a bit of a new experience with my newest bathroom door screamer. having the door open is not enough. he has to be on my lap. 

On My Lap. While I Pee. 

and I cannot put him down in order to pull up, zip, and button my pants. not if I don't want him to start screaming bloody murder at me. 

here's the clencher though, and I'm going to need some support on this one. I'm going to need you ladies to come out and say, "I'm here for you Kristen, I've had to do it too."; sometimes he's not happy until not only is he in my lap, but is latched on and having himself a little snack. 

Nursing! NURSING. ON. THE. TOILET. 

I get that I could just let him fuss and cry and scream and I could just watch those huge tears fall down his face and see the bottom lip poke out while I do my business. Except that I cannot. It is like torture. For both of us.  And so, every once in awhile (just a few times, but really, each time I sit there and I think to myself, "really? REALLY?") I find myself in that position.

tell me you have found yourself in it too. 

Con went to his first fencing competition yesterday. (and Laguna Hills is gorgeous! moving there now)

he lost every. single. match. 

and I am so proud of him! so many kids were breaking down and he kept a really good attitude. He was nervous, which made him super-reserved and quiet but he didn't complain and he had a good time, and he learned a lot.  

I love that kid!