On Toys and Other Drugs

A friend of Matthew's recently gifted Ceci with this vintage Fisher Price airplane complete with a few passengers.

Isn't that adorable? Matthew says the guy in orange is Gordon, from Sesame Street. I'm not sure if that's the case. I remember Gordon having a mustache, not a goatee, and I'm pretty sure he had arms, and was made of human flesh. Bad jokes aside, it's a very cute gift, no? Unfortunately, Matthew's friend is unaware that giving me my daughter this toy is like giving a drug addict just one little taste of smack.
I say this because I've been fighting a vintage Fisher Price obsession since I birthed my little critter, and that may seem harmless, but in truth it's dangerous because of (A) my tendency towards hoarding, and (B) the potential cost involved.
I think it started when I saw this record player at the antique store I frequent. It had all four records, was fully functioning, and was in beautiful shape for a toy older than I am. It was $30, which isn't terrible, but I ran out of that shop like my hair was on fire. The problem is this- once I have the record player I'll want the TV. Once I have the TV I'll want the little camera. Then the telephone, then the whirly ball push-thing, then the pull- along duck thing. I will become obsessed with collecting all of the Fisher Price toys I remember from my childhood and then I will most likely lock myself in a room to coo lovingly to them while I polish them with moist towelettes. I may or may not consume too much wine while I deplete my bank account on ebay while in pursuit of my new collection.
Soooooo. Now, through no fault of my own, there is a toy in my home acting as a trigger for me. Should I go for it, or do I find a self- help group?

Also- here's that recipe for plum cake Missy. Enjoy.

What Summer?

Wow. It's August 31st and the summer seems to have ended. It's been raining sideways all day and it looks like it may stay this way for the foreseeable future. I guess God 86'd summer. Lame. It's days like this that make me wonder why I moved away from the Homeland (California) to the great dreary Northwest. What was I thinking? 

What seems to happen every autumn is that I become wrapped up in the pleasurable pumpkin carving / leaf changing/ woolly sweater magic just enough to forget that a long, dark, miserable winter is quivering right there on the horizon. But today winter is in my face. It's an aggressive, surly winter that doesn't want to wait for it's moment on stage, dammit. It's ready NOW. 

It also just occurred to me that woolly sweater magic won't be mine this autumn either, not until I get baby X out of my womb and into the world. All I have is one eggplant colored maternity sweater and an old, giant blue hoody to fit over my girth. No way am I going to spend more money on maternity clothes with only 8 weeks to go. Double dammit. 

On a happier note, isn't this the cutest baby mobile ever? Our friend Karie Jane made it for us and she may be the most talented person in the galaxy. She started a site here on blogger but hasn't started posting yet.  If you like this mobile as much as I do then maybe send her an encouraging message and she'll start posting some of her art stuff. Peace out. 

Gaston Delittle

Ninon

I'm developing a tremendous fondness for quirky children's toys. Blame it on the hormones. This fantastic monster bears my Maiden name as well. What's not to like?

This very crafty lady lives in Berlin and makes all her monsters by hand. I'm thinking baby X might need one for her nursery. 

Dreams Really Do Come True

I would not want to imply that happiness is found in the aquisition of long- coveted objects. But sometimes getting what you want just makes for a great day.
Today I came home and found a shoebox on the dining room table with my husband's name on it. It also had a few postcards and a Pez dispenser tied to the top with ribbon. Because I am nosy, I opened this box.
Guess what was inside?

It's true. It's the bird planter that I have been admiring for the last few weeks in the window of an apartment downtown. Some of you may be familiar with my bird planter obsession. The bird planter belonged to this man-

He's the local guy who wears a Mr. Peanut suit when the mood strikes. 

He came into the restaurant where my husband works today, and Matthew told him that I was in love with his bird planter. This very kind man went home, wrapped up the bird planter, and gifted it to my husband. 

What an awesome guy. I can't even remember the last time a total stranger did something so nice for me. All my happy buttons have been pushed. It makes me want to go out and love on a perfect stranger myself. Kindness begets kindness.

Also in the theme of fulfilling obsessions is the stegosaurus gifted to me by Laurilee at our baby shower. 

I've been lusting after this dinosaur for weeks. It's supposed to be a gift for baby X, but I'm so infatuated with it I'm not sure I can let her have it. Maybe if she's a really GOOD baby. Maybe.

Happy Monday.