nannying has gotten the best of me this week. i've become this mean yelling person. but seriously, they just keep hitting each other. all the time. shouting is the only thing that has any kind of effect. bribing doesn't even work, they can't do the whole delayed-gratification thing. and then today, a miracle happened. 

they actually wanted to go outside and play.

so we went to the playground and played. and collected rocks. we saw a bottle rocket launch in the nearby field. and sat in the grass and ate our snacks. another small miracle happened and the younger boy and girl voluntarily shared their snacks without being asked to. and then we came home and decorated our rocks. 

granted, they still whined about really, really ridiculous things ("but i wanted the rock that CassiDee took!" "DeLayne told me how she made this color and when i tried it, it didn't work! make her go to time out!") and were constantly slapping each other, but today i finally got them to do something that i thought was (at least in my mind) a central part of childhood.

and tomorrow we're going to the aquarium. and then i have two glorious weeks off.

The kiddos' creativity mainly comes in the form of supporting various sports teams

Listening to: "The Way I Am", Ingrid Michaelson. (I have no idea why, but babysitting always makes me think of her music). 

{chicago}

Back from Chicago! (after perhaps the worst string of flight delays EVER occurring in a two day time period). But my actual time there was great. We only had one day, so we jam packed it. Our big plan was to hit up the East 57th Street bookstores near the University of Chicago in the morning (My friend's an English major and I'm a nerd, so that would have actually been super fun for us). 

However, what we didn't know was that there is no public transportation that drops you off at U of C. You would think the several thousand undergrads would warrant a Metra stop. Oh no. We wander out into the middle of South Chicago, which even at ten in the morning is probably the sketchiest place I've ever been. Six blocks in we chickened out and, fearful for our wallets and safety, hightailed it back to the mag mile. When we checked the map at the El station, we realized we were about eighteen blocks of gang-infested back alleys (okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but it was bad) away from anywhere we wanted to be. 

We decided to just focus on our other fun plans. Mainly, the Taste of Chicago festival. 

Hundreds of booths from great city restaurants spread out over Grant Park; you buy some of these little guys:

and go to town. Kate & I decided to split everything so we could try more. And did we try more.

ravioli, deep dish, potstickers, tamales & sweet potatoes galore.
After which we hung around Chicago (very carefully NOT taking the El this time), shopped in nearby Naperville, got dinner (although HOW we possibly ate again astounds me), went to Bridesmaids (even better the second time), crashed a dinner party, went to church and brunch the next morning and then it was time to head back. All in all, a very short but very worth it weekend.

Listening to: "Chicago", by Sufjan Stevens (it seemed appropriate).

{the nice side of the Internet}

Sometimes the world isn't an awful place full of car accidents and heartache and unhelpful Mac technicians and natural disasters and mean eBay customers.

Sometimes its a nice place. Full of celebrations for my mommy finishing her accounting class and my littlies voluntarily sharing and amazing friendships and fabulous take-charge insurance agents.

And sometimes all it takes is something little to tip the balance to good. Today it was this.

I ordered a ring on etsy.com and one day later it arrived, express mail, in cute packaging and with a handwritten note thanking me for my order.

People who are kind to strangers make my day. 

Jonsi's "Go" is the perfect chill CD. If you haven't listened to "Boy Lillokoi", do so. Here.

And then once you're as obsessed with it as I am, go watch this time lapse of his concert and freak out that he has no upcoming shows.

http://jonsi.com/concerts

{on adulthood}

This whole having-a-job-business has some definite downsides. 

I do not like getting up at 6:30 everyday. For some perspective: the last semester my earliest class (and that was only three days a week) was at 9:15. I usually rolled out of bed at 8:55.

I do not like having to go to bed at 10:30 in order to get up at 6:30.

I do not like having approximately two hours to do anything non-job related.

I do not like the bit of nannying that involves being a mom with no actual mom clout. 

I do not like having to deal with the pettiness, squabbling, and utter lack of compassion that defines fourth grade siblings.

But it also has some upsides.

I like having something to do each day (especially now that my car is sitting sadly in a body shop somewhere).

I like having cash flow.

I like that sometimes my job involves fun stuff like playing hide-and-seek, having pillow fights, and going to the pool. 

{guacamole}

Let me just preface this: I have no shame in saying something I make is good. Because (especially with something like this) it's alllll in the ingredients. So when people say its scrumptious, I agree and grab another chip-ful. This guacamole is wonderful.

 {ingredients}

     3 Haas avocados

2 tomatoes

1 half of an onion

1 garlic clove

and a little bit of salt and lime

mix it all together and enjoy

h a p p y f a t h e r ' s d a y

here's to my dad. to the brilliant, incredibly driven, hardworking father who raised me to be the person I am today. Who spent countless hours playing my favorite games.

Who taught me to love reading and made up silly stories for bathtime. Who tried to teach us "farm life" even out in the suburbs.

Who worked very long hours but never made us feel like he didn't care. Who always had time to explain something to his not-very-tech-savvy daughter. Who passed down his love of music. Who made us stick to very strict itineraries on family vacations but always let us stop for ice cream.

 happy father's day, dad. thanks for everything.

naturally, children of the nineties were the original hipsters.

working on my father's day present sent me through dozens of albums of old family photos. a common theme emerged: my sister and I saying things like "oh, that's cute!" or "where did that go?", sometimes about my mom's clothes but more often than not about our own. which brings me to my point: if you were born in the late eighties or early nineties, being a hipster is simply a throwback to your childhood. (Hipster characteristics drawn largely from the blog www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.com)

Being into vintage stuff (buttons, in this case).

Being up on current issues (extra points for reading foreign newspapers).

Ironic shades.

Taking posed-to-look-candid shots of someone looking off into the sunset.

Playing obscure instruments. ("It's a Cool Whip drum kit, you probably haven't heard of it.")

Ugly sweaters.

Styled-to-look-thrift-shop outfits.

Fixed gear bicycles. 

and finally....

Planking.

Pancakeapalooza

{From top left: chocolate with chocolate chip, banana nut, cinnamon walnut,
blueberry, blueberry-oatmeal-wheatgerm-nut, and banana}

Normally, I don't like making things from mixes unless I'm in a hurry. However, I had a revelation: all that it takes to make 'special' pancakes is whatever the ingredient is. Some pancake mix, some milk, couple eggs, and {what have you}. It's like pancake improv.
Naturally, I assumed the kiddos I nanny for would love homemade pancakes. My offer was met with blank stares and "Uh....we just want the frozen ones."
Well, I will enjoy delicious pancakes. And so will my family.

A Little Bit of Bleach Goes A Long Way; or How to Salvage Laundry Mistakes

Normally, I love doing laundry. Other than cooking, its my favorite household-y thing to do. Unfortunately now that my job's started I have neither the time or inclination to start doing chores after I get home from work. But with the dirty clothes pile threatening an avalanche that could potentially overtake my entire room, last night I finally threw everything in the wash, dumped in some kind of cleaner, set the timer to...something and called it a day. 

Well, that mystery cleaner wasn't fabric softener, it was bleach.

Most of the casualties were old t-shirts or things that were already white and could stand some deep cleaning anyhow. But my absolute favorite, super soft, sky blue J.Crew vneck was in there...and it came out with a huge white spot. 

I was more upset about this than I should have been. But after I decided I wasn't going to throw it away, I came up with a semi-acceptable rescue plan: spill bleach over ALL of it and make it look intentional. 

And it actually looks okay now. Kind of like cloud print tissue paper. So, if for some reason you do something equally stupid and ruin a favorite article of clothing, soak a rag in bleach and then drip it in an interesting pattern on the aforementioned garment and see what happens. 

Running Nowhere

Disclaimer: I am not a runner. People always say that and add the "I mean, my marathon time is awful!" or "I only ran twelve miles yesterday!" I actually am not a good runner. The most I've ever run is two miles. But I started jogging in the fall and spring of last year because winter is so miserable that it makes staying inside and not exercising seem like a crime when the weather clears up. And so my short little running life has been quite pleasant. Until I got back to Georgia.

Several problems:
-Its 95 degrees outside.
-Lack of college friends who force me to run.
-Very tiring and time consuming summer job.

But I knew all of this going in. So, to compensate, I drank water, ate some protein a few hours before;

wore my lucky running top;

I should explain the top. My mom ran track in college, and this was her jersey. She gave me a bunch of her old tshirts to sleep in when I was about six. Most of them (including this one) fell apart, but I refused to throw this one away. Its really, really ratty and has been pieced back together many times:

but wearing it reminds me that even if I don't have a runner's stamina, experience, or endurance, at least I have a runner's genes.

So I put on my shoes, waited till the temperature dropped to the eighties, got my iPod set to good running music (Mumford today) and headed out. I hadn't even gotten halfway through my loop when my ribs started aching liked they'd cracked in half. Not just like a normal stitch in your side. Even walking jostled whatever it was. And so I walked the rest of the way, and then died at the top of the hill before my house:

Maybe I'll put exercise on hold until I'm back in a cooler climate.

Typography

My sister recently bought and restored this typewriter:

 Its incredible. Vintage 1920's Underwood. So much fun to type on.

So, Wheaton people, if you send me letters, care packages, post cards from exotic locales, there's an excellent chance you will receive a badly typewritten letter back!

Apple Pies and Unpacking

Greetings from Michigan! So, so much fun to see friends and do silly things. 

Robinette's Apple Haus & Winery

I was inspired to make an apple pie for Memorial Day, partly because apple pie seems so American and patriotic and also because my mom told me she needed a pie crust used up. Usually, I make my own (its actually pretty easy), but for this I just made the top.

Apple Pie (or Tart, depending on how you do the crust)
{ingredients} 
-5 or 6 apples, I usually use a mix of Granny Smith, Gala, and Michigan
-1/2 cup sugar
-1 tbs lemon juice
-1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
-pinch of ginger, nutmeg & allspice
-pie crust**
{directions}
heat oven to 350 F
cut apples (peeled and cored) into small pieces. coat with sugar, lemon juice, and spices. let sit 15 min. then do (a) or (b). not both!

(a) for a pie, place filling in crust in pie pan. if you're using two doughs (one base and one top) then make knife slits in the top (to relieve pressure and to look fancy). 

(b) if you're using one, then you're making a tart. fold the filling in the center of the dough and wrap the dough around it--it won't cover it completely. place on a baking sheet.

brush the top with cream. bake for an hour, give or take, checking on it regularly to make sure nothing has exploded.

Finished product!
(I need a better camera)

**Pie Crust
I got this recipe off of a show on Food Network and it was very snappily called "Pate Sucree", which I'm assuming is French for "pie crust". I was only there for a week, so I never delved into baking terms. Anyhow.
{ingredients}
1 1/4 cups flour
1 tbs sugar
1/8 tsp salt
7 tbs butter (i usually use less though)
3 tbs water
{directions}

Mix flour, sugar, salt. Add in small bits of chopped butter with a mixer (or by hand, if you have time to kill and a masochistic streak). Once the butter is incorporated, add water a tablespoon at a time until a dough forms. And you'll know when it forms. You're just mixing along and all of a sudden you have this giant dough ball.
Roll it out on a floured surface (this is a great time to get some use out of your rolling pin!) and then wrap in plastic and stick it in the fridge for about twenty minutes.