Contact Paper is my Friend

You wouldn’t think that when I’m in the middle of it. The stuff is so sticky. It never sticks where I want it to. It wrinkles and it goes on crooked and then there’s the cat hair and finger prints, it’s just a big mess. BUT when I’ve finally managed to finish my project, it’s a thing of beauty.

My project was this: I was tired of Baby Bug displaying her artistic talents on the cupboard wall beside her high chair. Sure, I could move the chair (and I will when she gets big enough to kick herself off of it) but it fits there and it’s out of the way next to the wall. However, being close to the wall also provides lots of surface area for Baby Bug smear stuff on. I was tired of scrubbing the butternut squash, the bananas, the rice cereal and pureed carrots off the wall. It feels like all I do all day long is scrub up after the baby. Scrub scrub scrub. Every surface has to be cleaned. It’s a lot of work. So I schemed up an idea that would turn my laborious scrubbing into a simple wipe. Contact paper! A coat of high gloss paint would do the trick too but I’m not up for painting these days.

So I stuck some pictures of her favorite people and a favorite toy between two pieces of contact paper and taped it up on the wall beside Baby Bug’s high chair. Presto: sticky swipe problem solved. As an added benefit we also have a fun game to play during our hour long “feeding the baby” sessions. While I try and dodge her swiping hands and sneak spoon fulls of food into her mouth, she can point out where her Daddy is or where Pounce is..

She’s learning too. I say, “Where is Daddy?” and sometimes I swear she bats at the picture of Toby. Sometimes she just bats at the whole thing… but at least it’s easy to wipe off. She loves it, I love it. It’s great. I just wish I could contact paper her too.

Moving past the train wreck post…

Oooh look pretty colors! Vintage flour sack fabric! Yay! I love old prints like this. I was taking pictures of my collection for one of my sister-in-laws (I have many, the one who lives up in Oregon) who might make Baby Bug a quilt for Christmas and I thought, “Hey, these pictures are kinda neat. Maybe I’ll post them on my blog.”

No time is better than the present to move some attention off my “blogging while under the influence of pms” post. Ugh. I hate admitting I was pms-ing. (As if you all are going to pull out your handy dandy notebook and log in what day it is so you can watch me flip out again twenty-four days from now…) I didn’t even know I was pms-ing. I kinda stopped keeping track of my cycle days sixteen months ago. I guess I better get back in the habit of it. I hate being blind-sided by crazy emotions. I hate being embarrassed of my blog posts. But at the same time I’m glad I blogged about it.

You guys have a lot of good advice and reading a bunch of comments from nice concerned readers sure beats medication or a trip to the shrink. I learned a lot from yesterday’s post. I learned that I need to acknowledge that I have trouble managing my anger. Crazy, but I didn’t really realize that before. Looking up that page on anger was very helpful. But the most important thing I learned is that it is possible to manage your anger for the sake of your kids. This gives me hope. Thank you Internet.

So that’s that.

What do you think of all the pretty flour sack fabric swatches? I know some people won’t like them. It’s weird how tastes change from generation to generation. My mom and I have complete opposite tastes in colors and combinations. I, however, LOVE these colors and combos. I just want to collect more and more. Maybe make a quilt entirely out of old flour sacks. Now that would be cool.

I bought these one yard pieces at an estate sale for 25 cents each. I thought it was a total deal and the lady who sold them to me thought she was making a killing. Funny how that works. What’s that saying about somebody’s junk is someone else’s treasure?

Which is just another way of saying I should lighten up about my mom and all her junk. I’m going to take your advice, internet, and next time I visit I’m not going to lift a finger to help out around the house. (That was the third thing I learned from you guys.)

Peace out.