It's absolutely disgusting, which means it must be super healthy right?

Last night I was innocently playing around on my computer when my nose was brutally ass raped. I know you're wondering if such a thing is possible, but trust me it is.

Oh Shit! Noooo! Not again! Not more Rotting Sewage Soup!

This is the third time this month that Adam has brewed up this vile concoction. By the time I realized what was happening it was too late to stop it and the stench had already permeated every corner of the house. There was nothing I could do but update my Facebook Status to:

Christine is wondering why adam insists upon torturing me with stinky disgusting soup. 10:45pm

People who were out of smelling range expressed interest:

Pon at 11:45pm February 22
i'm dying to know what he is making you...lol

Christine at 11:48pm February 22
he's not actually making it for me, it's just the fact that he's making it at all that's the problem. It has onions and garlic and spinach and squash and quite possibly some donkey piss and the whole house reeks. I'm 3 rooms and a floor away and my eyes are still watering.

Melanie at 8:29am February 23
LOL!

Kristin at 3:02pm February 23
Why is he making such horrible soap?

Christine at 7:16pm February 23
Not soap, soup. And who knows why Adam does things? He's just weird, hadn't you noticed?

So I asked Adam what the hell was actually in the soup that possesses such a pungency that it curls paint and causes the hairs inside one's nose to shrivel up and die:

Adam: It's not that bad!

Me: Are you insane? Has your proximity to the soup killed your sense of smell entirely?

Adam: Well it's mostly cabbage, then there's zucchini, potatoes, celery, onions, garlic, and whatever else I feel like throwing in.

Me: What about the rancid sheep testicles, cheap cologne, hot tar and cat shit?

Adam: It's not that bad! It's just vegetable soup.

Me: That's not normal vegetable soup! Normal people make soup with carrots and tomatoes and peas and other things that don't smell like vomit.

Adam: Tomatoes tend to overpower the flavour as well as the scent.

Me: Yes! That's it! Tomatoes get rid of stink right? You use tomato juice to wash off skunk spray! For the love of God your soup needs tomatoes!

Because there is no way to post scent on a blog (luckily for you) here's a picture to help you appreciate the nastiness, and I hope you appreciate it because I put my life in danger by going near the bowl and taking the lid off:

Ya, it pretty much smells like that.

And after a day or so it goes completely black and purplish and he continues to eat it.

Now granted, I have the same sense of culinary adventurousness as the average 4 year old and I would happily live on pizza, ice cream, grilled cheese and goldfish crackers, but there's no way this is just me, right?

Kiss The Chef...

Because you're not allowed to spank them these days.

There's more than one way to scramble eggs.

Note how carefully she placed the empty shells in the cup.

Nudity Yes, Hygiene No

"Off? Off? Off? Off? Off? Wet? Wet? Wet? Dirty? Dirty? Off? Off? Wet? Off?"

This is Edenese for: I have spilled a microscopic droplet of water on the sleeve of my sweater and I now feel that it is imperative that we remove all of my clothing, including socks and diaper, please. (but you know, probably without the Please)

She's very insistent about it. She will pull at her clothing in ever-increasing desperation until I give in to the pathetic sight of her standing there with one arm protruding from the neck hole of her shirt and strip her off. Once she's nude she immediately clamps one hand on to each butt cheek and runs off, giggling madly and chanting "Bum! Bum! bumbumbumbummmm!" Once she gets over the joy of being reunited with her naked butt she becomes enthralled with her belly button, then she pinches her nipples and says "Ow" repeatedly, because apparently she's a massochist.

All of this is, of course, highly entertaining. If it were summer time I would let her run free in the yard to her heart's content, but as it's February this nudist phase is somewhat inconvenient. Our house is never really warm. Eden's carefree bum song is usually interspersed with random "Brrr, coooolds!" And then there are the puddles. We have pottys in various locations throughout the house and Eden even consents to sit on one from time to time, but actually peeing or pooping in them is not on her agenda. Instead she lets go wherever she happens to be standing, then very helpfully takes me by the hand, leads me to the mess and gives me my instructions: "Uh oh, clean up? Clean up! Uh oh!"

The potty is not going to waste though, oh no. In fact it's providing amusement for the entire family:







It's OK though, not like it's ever been used.

I Love You..or Not, You Know, Whatever

I swear my baby said 'I love you' so I thought it would be oh so cute to tape it and post the awesome cuteness for all to enjoy on Valentines Day. Unfortunately, Eden always wants to see herself on the camera, which would require her to be behind the camera, which makes it very hard to get a shot of her in front of the camera...So here you go. Happy Valentines Day to all.

Star Light, Star Bright...

Skylar: Look there's the first star! Know what I wished? I wished for Eden to be good and nice. Either good or nice, both are OK.

Me: I wish for YOU to be good and nice. (The kid has been quite the turd lately)

Skylar: (ignoring me) Eden say "Un"

Eden: (the incredible parrot girl)Uh

Skylar: Good! Now say "Deux"

Eden: Duh!

Skylar: Trois?

Eden: Twa!

Skylar: Quatre?

Eden: Catta

Skylar: Cinque?

Eden: Sack

Skylar: Six

Eden: Seece

Skylar: Sept

Eden: Set

Skylar: Huit

Eden: Weet

Skylar: Neuf

Eden: Nuff

Skylar: Dix

Eden: Deece

Skylar: Yay Eden! Good job! Did you hear that Mama? I teached Eden her numbers in French. I think I got an extra surprise with my wish. I wished for her to be good or nice, and my wish made her good AND nice AND smart too! The smart was a surprise on top of my wish!

Aww, I guess I got my wish too. At least for a few minutes.

Breastfeeding Nazis Can Bite My Left Tit.

Girls Gone Child has a post up (technically a link to Momversation but whatever) that is about breastfeeding Nazis who feel compelled to call you out for bottle-feeding your baby. It's worth a watch/read.

http://www.girlsgonechild.net/2009/02/formula-is-not-f-word.html

Judging by the comments left on her post my own breastfeeding journey has not been typical.

While I was pregnant with Skylar (Goober) Adam was studying holistic nutrition and thus he was pretty gung ho on the whole idea of breastfeeding. Exclusive breastfeeding! Extended breastfeeding!! The only responsible thing a sane person could possibly do!!! Which would have worked out perfectly had he possessed mammary glands. Since I was the one blessed with the boobies though, I agreed to six months.

Far from having strangers confront me about bottle feeding my baby, I felt pressured to give up nursing. People seemed to assume that as a teen mother (read: irresponsible whore) I would naturally be inclined to feed my baby formula. For some reason only mature women are expected to breastfeed. Ha! I would show them, dammit. I was going to be a good mom if it killed me! Therein lies the problem: It was killing me.

Physically everything was fine. My milk came in. My baby latched properly. No lack of supply. Emotionally though I was miserable. I know now that I was suffering from post-partum depression, but at the time my desire to prove myself made me refuse to admit anything was wrong. I hated nursing. Instead of warm fuzzy feelings of attachment I was filled with resentment. I saw my baby as a pitiless, life-sucking parasite, feeding off of my freedom. I felt nauseated. My head was filled with the reek of sour milk 24/7. I felt trapped. I felt alone in the world with an 8 pound leech tying me down to the earth and smothering me with it's selfish neediness. Now add to that the guilt of knowing what a heartless bitch I was because what the hell is wrong with someone who hates feeding their baby? And you get a lot of weepy feeding sessions. I was a failure.

Then one day I fed her a bottle. More tears, but these were happy tears. It was a revelation moment for me. Oh my God, I'm feeding my baby! and she's smiling! and she's beautiful and perfect and not a parasitic leech at all! Oh holy Hell why didn't I do this sooner? Have I damaged her forever with all the negativity I've been sending her? Have I missed our chance to bond? There's no way the benefits of breastmilk can have outweighed the horror. I'm not saying everything was magically better from that moment on, but it was my starting point. It was a light at the end of the tunnel and a glimmer of hope that maybe I could do this and things would get better someday.

When I got pregnant with Eden (Mooch) I was under no illusions about breastfeeding. I was willing to try again, but at the first sign of the crazies she was going on formula and that was the end of it. So no one was more surprised than I was when breastfeeding worked. There was milk, there was latching, there was a much nicer breast-pump. There was closeness and bonding and Oh my God THIS is what it's supposed to be like!? (insert some more guilt about missing this with Skylar and long-term emotional damage etc. but mostly all around awesome). I nursed Eden for 13 months. I would have gone on longer, but some surgery and medications for me co-incided with a lack of interest on her part and we both knew that we were done and the experience was over. Yesterday I cleaned out the freezer and found one lone little container of frozen breastmilk. I couldn't bring myself to throw it out. I thought that this was probably my last chance to nourish my child with my own milk and I warmed it up for her. Eden snuggled with me and sucked her bottle and the sweet smell of the milk brought back all of these memories, good and bad, of feeding my babies.

So basically all of this goes back to my personal opinion that no one should judge anyone else for the way they choose to feed their baby. Breast or formula, every woman should do what works for her and her baby and not feel guilty. Babies thrive on love more than milk.

So now I knit!

You may have noticed I haven't posted anything in a while. Why is this? Because I am a freak and when I get a new project in my head I don't let go until I have drained every last ounce of life from it. The project of the moment: Knitting soakers and longies! Oh yes, didn't you know I was 67 years old? Wool diaper covers kick ass, but they are stupidly expensive so I learned to knit. Take that 60$ Llamajamas! Look what I made:

I made this soaker from a decaying old pattern book of my Grandmas. I have no idea what it's called and it kind of sucks because the crotch is too narrow and doesn't cover a diaper completely.This one is from a free on-line pattern simply called Jenny's Soaker. It was easy, but it's not pretty.

These were my first longies. Made from the Tiny Bird Soaker Pants pattern. I liked them so much I made two:

Then I made some more soakers, but I looked at a bunch of free patterns then picked out which parts I liked and simplified the whole thing and came up with my very own EdenSky original soaker pattern. TaDA! I'm totally having visions of opening my own etsy shop now. My dorkiness knows no bounds, but dude I made these!

Why yes, there was a sale on burgundy and teal wool, why do you ask?