Burgh Baby

She's Not Wrong

burghbaby — Fri, 24 May 2013 02:07:18 +0000

I've been throwing around broken promises like confetti lately, so by the time Sunday rolled around, it was time for The Alexis Show. Whatever she wanted all day long. All of it. No matter how insane it sounded.

Her list: Phipps, library, and the zoo. Oh, and a picnic lunch.

The amazing part is that it was all accomplished. Part of the magic became possible when she made her own picnic lunch and then ended up eating it in the car because she was too hungry to wait, but the other part was just a matter of her making good decisions.

She decided to check out 8 books at the library and not read a single one while we were there. That made it a very efficient stop.

Then, there was Phipps, where the efficiency came to a screeching halt. Because ... butterflies.

We have a Phipps membership because the best way to survive a miserable winter is to spend part of it staring at pretty flowers. The month or so when the butterflies are there is just a bonus.

My plan for the butterfly room was to use my longest lens to get as many butterfly photos as possible before Alexis turned into a pumpkin and demanded that we move on. She does that a lot at Phipps--she wants to explore every inch of it at mach speed. She meanders around as fast as she can, somewhat like something out of a Family Circus cartoon.

The best laid plans are often ruined, though.

Ruined in a good way, that is. Rather than getting a ton of photos thanks to preparation, I was caught on my heels and trying to take a totally different type of photo because Alexis discovered that a Phipps employee was standing guard over the newly hatching butterflies and was letting kids hold them.

Which, of course, turned into Alexis holding a butterfly. Or three.

She pretty much thought it was the greatest thing ever. I dare you to disagree with her. Be warned: she'll cut you.

As we were walking out of the butterfly room, Alexis had a question. "How can you tell if a butterfly is a boy or girl?" she asked.

My mind went places that it shouldn't have, but my mouth was wise enough to cover for my immaturity. "I don't know," I said. "Maybe you should ask the woman by the chrysalises."

Alexis darted back to ask her. It was explained to her that most of the butterflies at Phipps are boys because the don't want a bunch of eggs all over the place and because boys have brighter colors.

"Why do the boys have brighter colors?" she asked.

Of course, the answer was so that they can have better luck attracting a mate.

Alexis pondered that little bit of trivia for a bit. She pondered and she pondered and she pondered. Then she said, "Momma, it's a good thing human boys don't have to be pretty to find a mate because they would all be in BIG trouble. They don't even know how to wear clothes that match!"

So there's that.

A Fairy Garden Buying Guide

burghbaby — Thu, 23 May 2013 01:29:02 +0000

It seems that somewhere along the line, I became a Fairy Garden hipster. I can tell you for an absolute fact that there were only a handful of photos of them online back when I first posted about ours, but now there are hundreds. And hundreds. And hundreds.

Get off my fairy garden lawn, you whippersnappers.

Or ... join in on the fun. Whichever you prefer.

The thing is that I've been asked a bunch of times for a list of places to find fairy garden supplies. Rather than continuing to answer each person individually, I figured it was time to put together a handy dandy list.

If you do make a fairy garden (or have already), please to be sharing a photo? Just email it to me or share a link to a photo or blog post with it in the comments and I'll add it to my fairy garden Pinterest board.

Fairy Garden Furniture/Accessories/Houses

Fairy Garden Kits: The lazy way to go is to buy a fairy garden kit from Alexis. She's restocking her store this weekend (seriously -- she's WAY excited about this whole thing now that she only owes me $150 for cheerleading), but there are a few kits left right now.

Pat Catan's: There is a decent selection of items at Pat Catan's. Check the seasonal aisle, the dollhouse aisle, and the miniatures aisle.

Michael's: The only thing they have is the unfinished birdhouses that can be decorated to be fairy houses, but they have the best ones for the price (under $10). Note: When decorating, look for the paint that says it's good for outdoor use. It will hold up better. Sealing the finished product is a really good idea as well.

Plow and Hearth: The only thing they really have is a furniture kit. It's expensive, but better quality than any of the things I've found elsewhere.

Target: They also have a fairy garden kit. I've seen it in a few stores and it's available online.

Hobby Lobby: They have a few things that work in the dollhouse section, and there are a few fairy garden specific items in the seasonal/gardening aisle.

Amazon: Pretty much everything is available on Amazon at a great price. Here are a few of my favorite things. Just click the images to view them on Amazon.

Vine bench:

Garden tools:

Bird bath:

Patio table and chairs:

Arbor:

Wheelbarrow:

Birdhouse that would make a great fairy house:

And a bird feeder that makes a perfect fairy house:

Locally, I've found various items at two garden centers -- Reilly's Summer Seat Farm and Brenckle's.

Fairy Garden Trees/Shrubs

Anything that is super small and super slow-growing will work. Think bonsai. Locally, I've found Bedner's to be the best source, but there are some online stores that have a pretty solid selection.

Two Green Thumbs

Miniforest.com

Ascus Nursery

Fairy Garden Plants

The key to the plants is to think small. Walk through any garden center and you are bound to find things like alyssum, lobelia, etc. If you seek out the part of a garden center where they keep the "Stepables," you're guaranteed to find some good things. Some of my favorite plants for fairy gardens are:

Irish Moss (Lowe's and Home Depot usually have this) (perennial)

Sea Thrift (perennial)

Erodium Charm Alpine Geranium (perennial)

Dwarf Mondo Grass (perennial)

Rockcress (perennial)

Dianthus (annual)

Wooly Thyme (perennial)

Rosemary (Herb -- different varieties can be used in different ways. Some are perfect for training into a tree, others are dwarf and make good shrubs, others can be trained to go over an arbor.)

When all else fails, go to a really good garden center and ask for help. An employee will be able to show you some things that will do well and stay relatively small. Keep in mind, nearly every plant that is a perfect miniature will spread. You'll have to thin it out once per year or more. For example, I started with two little tiny pots of Irish Moss. I now have three fully stocked fairy gardens just from dividing the Irish Moss every spring.

Holler if you have any questions, and make sure you share your fairy gardens!

The Special People Need to be Reminded to Shut Up

burghbaby — Wed, 22 May 2013 03:15:06 +0000

They were there to see Mary. I know that because they said so. "Is Mary in this one?" "Is Mary coming up soon?" "Does Mary dance soon?" and on and on.

And on and on.

AND ON AND ON.

The nonstop chatter moved from Mary to retirement to walking dogs and back again. It meandered down a path of mayoral election debates followed by a pro Tea Party rant. There was talk of appropriate attire for walking the dog, how great Netflix is, and plenty of words that would make anyone look around and ask, "Did I seriously just hear that?"

You know how sometimes you stumble upon a Facebook update and you're like, "Why the hell did you put those words where others could see them?" THAT. EXACTLY THAT. All those things that make you flinch were said.

Every last one of them.

Out loud.

DURING the dance recital.

It's really very fortunate that the fates lined Alexis' performances up towards the end of the nearly four-hour long recital. The first half wasn't the time for paying attention because CLEARLY it wasn't the time for paying attention. They said so. With all of their words that were about everything and nothing, the two older women who were seated behind us at the recital made it well known that the show wasn't for watching. Rather, the loud music was a nuisance that they had to raise their voices to cover. They chatted and chatted and chatted.

I glared.

The didn't flinch.

I glared again.

Nothing.

I threw more dirty looks over my shoulder than would seem possible, but they just kept on talking.

Frustration mounted. I couldn't understand how they weren't shutting up and began to consider ways to force it to happen. One of the women had a cane, so I thought about ways it could be used to put an end to the talking. Then I considered how we all seem to think teens are so very rude these days, but no. NO. It's the older generation that thinks it's OK to go to a dance recital and talk loudly through the entire thing.

Only, they didn't.

Because at the intermission, I said something. I don't really know what exactly I said because I was flustered and annoyed and trying very hard not to say things that rhyme with duck as I told them to shut up.

Which, really? Why is it that *I* felt bad about even considering asking them to stop talking? Why do we do that? I can't possibly be the only person who falters doing something reasonable in the wake of something so very rude.

But, hey. I said something and the talking stopped. Apparently there are people who have to be told specifically that their behavior is rude. Once you tell them, they stop it.

Just like that.

Thank goodness. If it had gone on much longer, that cane would have been in big trouble.

Tappa, Tappa, Tappa

burghbaby — Tue, 21 May 2013 01:44:24 +0000

As the curtain parted and the lights dimmed, I realized that this one was different. There were no words that came from her or anyone else, I just knew.

An early performance by one of the graduating seniors laid it all on the line -- this is her. Alexis. Not yet, but it will be. There is still time for her to choose a different path and completely change her mind, but right now, at this moment, my bones are telling me this really is Her Thing.

Dance.

I think maybe she's going to stick with it. I think maybe she accidentally/on purpose stumbled on to Her Thing so very early in life.

The evolution of her love for dance was a long one, but there was a turning point. Clearly. She's no longer the kid who seemingly struggles to learn the choreography all year long and then suddenly pulls it out at the end. Now she's the kid who is placed front and center because she can nail that choreography. When I look through the photos from the recital this past weekend, I see the girls flanking Alexis watching her. Impersonating her. Following her.

She just stands there executing choreography and smiling.

We'll see what the future holds for certain, but for now, I'm pretty sure it holds many hours of rehearsals and sequins and tutus and expensive shoes and 4-hour long dance recitals. But, more than anything, it holds smiles.

Because, man, she loves to dance.

When Strawberry Rhubarb Sauce Meets My Friend the Mojito

burghbaby — Mon, 20 May 2013 02:23:15 +0000

Rhubarb. Strawberry. We've discussed this before -- I can't get enough. It's not possible.

I've done the Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp thing. Frequently.

The Easy Strawberry Crumb Bars are full of win. Frequently.

I had forgotten about the Rhubarb Chocolate Chip Banana Bread, but I plan to fix that. Frequently.

And you can never go wrong with Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. Just eat it frequently. That's the trick.

Then I went and thought of a way I could put strawberry and rhubarb in ALL OF THE THINGS. I made a Strawberry Rhubarb Sauce.

If you think the only thing I did with it was to pour it over a little vanilla ice cream, you are wrong. I have found about a dozen ways to make use of that Strawberry Rhubarb Sauce. The best one (and this is TOTALLY related to hockey playoffs and overtime and GAAAAH!) might just be this one.

Say hello to my little friend, the Strawberry Rhubarb Mojito. I don't drink often, but when I do, I go for the gold.

I mean, really.

Yes. Yes, indeed.

Strawberry Rhubarb Sauce

1/2 cup chopped rhubarb
1/2 cup sliced strawberries
1/3 cup water
1/3 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons lime juice

1. Combine all of the fun stuff in a small saucepan. Boil on medium heat until the rhubarb is soft.

2. Either throw it all in a blender or use a immersion blender to puree it all.

3. Store in the refrigerator. Pour it on pancakes, waffles, ice cream, pound cake, strawberry shortcake, cupcakes, French toast, plain yogurt, cottage cheese, oatmeal, or ... make a little drink with it.

Strawberry Rhubarb Mojito

1 oz white rum
2 oz Strawberry Rhubarb Sauce (less if you like your mojitos a little tart, more if you like them sweet)
6-8 mint leaves
1/2 cup club soda
Ice

1. Put the mint in your glass and squish it. Seriously, smash it with a spoon, a fork, whatever. Use up all of your playoff hockey angst and thoroughly bruise that mint.

2. Add the rest of the stuff. Stir.

3. Be happy.

Just Dance

burghbaby — Sun, 19 May 2013 02:33:49 +0000

Back and Still Sleepy

burghbaby — Sat, 18 May 2013 01:53:40 +0000

When last I told you about my baby bird stalking, it was Friday. Not much was happening. That trend continued on Saturday.

Seriously. These are the most sleep-prone baby birds I've ever seen. They never once looked up on Sunday.

I'm pretty sure I could reach in and grab one of them and they wouldn't care. AT ALL.

Monday was another snooze-filled day.

And then I went out of town for a few days. I missed three whole days of baby bird life, which is like a year in bird time. I think. I don't actually know anything about bird calendars and the such.

Anyway.

Today I finally was home during daylight hours, so I took a gander at the three little birds who are 10 days old and the one who is 11 days old (not that I could tell you which one is older, I just know that one is.).

THEY WERE AWAKE! And still didn't care that I was there.

By the way, the one with its mouth open doesn't actually have its mouth open.

I had noticed it before, but now I'm absolutely certain -- it's beak isn't properly formed. It's missing a chunk, which makes it look like it's constantly talking.

My money says they all fly away sometime this weekend.

Kudos to You, Sir

burghbaby — Fri, 17 May 2013 03:37:02 +0000

I have spent the greater part of this week in Miami for work. By the way, all of you thinking "must be nice" right now clearly haven't travelled for work because OMG IT IS SO NOT AS FUN AS IT SOUNDS.

Not even a little bit.

I'll put it this way -- I will have logged well over 60 hours worked and less than 15 hours of sleep in four days, all while the hooligans in my house have continued to trash the place and create even more work for me to do when I get home. That's just the tip of the GAH! iceberg.

Anyway.

I had a really great view of a parking lot all this week, and an even better view of humanity while spending too much time in various airports. That's where the best and worst in humanity comes out, you know. But, I'm grumpy this week, so I only noticed the worst.

Like the woman behind me in line at security earlier today.

If her words are to be trusted, she got in line at security less than 20 minutes before her flight was scheduled to depart. I'm no math genius, but that sounds like a VERY BAD PROBLEM to me. That means her flight was already boarding before she ever set foot in the airport and that's really no way to travel, unless you enjoy stress and missing your flight.

Which she clearly didn't.

The woman, a retiree who was living in Miami and on her way north to visit her son, was freaking the heck out. Her husband was hiding his face the entire time and pretending not to know her because she was telling absolutely everyone who would listen, "Our flight leaves in 20 minutes. Can we go in front of you?"

Proving that there is kindness in this world (and people who will extend kindness when it's not necessarily deserved), a lot of people let her move ahead of them. That's how she wound up behind me.

Me.

The person who had headphones on and was doing her darndest to avoid making eye contact with any humans, most especially any humans who had very obviously undergone plastic surgery and were looking to tell their life story so they could turn their lack of planning into someone else's emergency.

Me.

After hearing her life story (again because her voice carried over Adam Levine's as he sang in my ear), I let her go. I really, really, really, really, REALLY didn't want to because GET TO THE AIRPORT ON TIME LIKE I DID, PLEASE.

(I told you I was grumpy. It happens.)

(The grumpy is absolutely related to the fact that TSA smashed my box of cupcakes that I was very carefully guarding. Delicious, fantastical cupcakes that now look like a box of smashed icing.)

(This is just another sentence in parenthesis because I'm going for the world record with this post.)

ANYWAY.

I let her go.

And I didn't even laugh a little when it turned out that she had broken all sorts of rules when packing her carry on. She was pulled aside for extra screening and had to completely empty her bag, all the while the people who had let her pass went on to the rest of the airport well before she did.

But her husband did laugh. And I kind of loved him for it.

"I told you we needed to leave for the airport earlier," I heard him say.

They missed their flight. I know that because I had a chance to tell the man that he was sort of my hero when they ended up rescheduled on my flight. He was sitting right next to me on the plane, pretending not to notice the "I hate you for being right" daggers his wife's eyes were shooting at him.

Stomach Full of Caterpillars

burghbaby — Thu, 16 May 2013 03:46:00 +0000

I find it odd, but I'm the one who will eat cream of mushroom soup straight out of the can, so who am I to judge? Still, it's a little unusual, I think, that Alexis loves to read history books. She will happily read for hours about former presidents and historical figures and on and on and on.

I consider most of it a snoozefest, but whatever. If she's happy, so be it. She can keep on reading her books about history.

Alexis has read historical book after historical book, including several books about the civil rights movement. She found Rosa Parks to be incredibly interesting. She told me all about what she knew of Martin Luther King, Jr. She even reported reading about separate water fountains and the like.

She said it made her "heart hurt." Her words. Not mine.

But, it was the men in the white gowns and masks that got her. One night she was reading a new book about the civil rights movement and she came to a page about the terrible people who wore those white gowns and she FREAKED OUT.

"Why are they dressed so scary?" she asked. That question was followed by dozens of others. None of the answers came easily, but I tried to navigate them using only facts. I want her to make up her own mind about what is acceptable and what is horrible.

Horrible won out. Hands down. I know that because Alexis started to have nightmares about the Ku Klux Klan.

Nightmares led to sleepless nights led to conversations about all sorts of fun stuff at all hours of the night. It was enough to make me consider banning books about history. I didn't, but I considered it.

Then she found a book about World War II. When Alexis started asking questions about Hitler, I wished I had banned those books. She went on and on, trying her hardest to find an answer to her very simple question.

"Why?"

She wanted to know why someone would do so many horrible things to people and she wanted to know why other people let it happen and WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY.

She's still going on about it. Given that there is no good answer to that question, all we can do is discuss how it makes her feel and look for ways to make sure it never happens again.

"Momma, it makes me feel like I ate a bunch of caterpillars for breakfast. It's icky."

And with that statement, the 7-year old managed to sum up her feelings on inequality better than I ever could.

Caterpillars, indeed.

Again, Please

burghbaby — Tue, 14 May 2013 23:00:37 +0000