Seeking: Couple friends for...NO! Not for THAT.

I've noticed, since our move, that time is flying. Not just flying, but whizzing. Not just whizzing, but giving us a RAGING WIND BURN ON OUR FACES. I'm not sure if it's all the pregnancy-related doctors' appointments, the fact that Oldest is now in middle school or the bureaucratic detritus (if you're reading this, anyone who works for the State of Maine Department of Health and Human Services, please please PLEASE just ease up a tiny, motherfreaking bit on the paperwork, will ya?) that comes with an out-of-state move, but holy old hell, are we ever busy. I used to go days without needing to leave the house; suddenly, I've got only minutes between one obligation and the next. And all of this having to be presentable in public - combined with the fact that I only have three pairs of pants that fit me - is, naturally, creating a super fun! amount of laundry.

But this should all ease up come late January, right? As soon as we bring another kid into the mix?

Hee hee. HAR HAR. Snort.

Speaking of time-induced wind burn, you might recall that my friend Emily and I are both pregnant, and due three weeks apart - in fact, she is due next month. (Which really freaks ME out, because it means I am due next month plus three more weeks.) Her baby shower was held at the end of October, in Buffalo, and unfortunately I wasn't able to attend. I did, however, want to make sure her present from me was there - which meant having to get my poop in a group pretty damn fast, since I'm not really known for, uh, "planning ahead" or "budgeting my time." Instead, I like to think (and say) that I work well under pressure.

See the REALLY pretty one at the top of the pile, wrapped in brown postal paper? Yup, that's mine. I wish you could see the bubble wrap and packing tape, because they really made the whole thing come together. Well, those and the postal employee who misspelled "fragile" on the front - she definitely had a hand in the magic, too.

Emily's gift was a two-parter; the elephants above were matted to fit an 8x10 tabletop frame and were made to match her nursery bedding (click here to see if you think I did a good job). I also made her this, matted in an 11x17 wall frame:


Back in January Emily and her husband, Sean, dubbed 2009 "the year of hope," and it turns out there may be something to this "power of positive thinking" business. After three failed IVF cycles, they headed into a frozen cycle this past spring and found out in late April that one of their "snowbabies" had thawed and settled in quite nicely; the baby is due on Christmas Eve! (Emily happens to like the name Hope for a girl, which would be especially handy for me, but unfortunately it's a no-go for Sean. Upside: gift for first birthday is IN THE BAG.)

While I don't think I really need to explain the second half of the gift any further, I would like to gently point out that the, um, "font" I used here is slightly different than the one I normally use. Observe:


My regular "font" (which Stewart has dubbed "Amanda").

And now, "Amanda Italic," which I like to think is a bit more traditional-looking:

Just wanted to make sure you're all aware of the plentiful options here at Piecemeal People. (You're very welcome.)

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Thinking about Emily and Sean, I can't help but think about couple friends. And thinking about couple friends, I can't help but think about the fact that we don't have any. Well, we DID, in Maryland...but here in Maine we spend a lot of time in my parents' basement, working on a serious case of rickets and crying into our laundry piles.

OK. So it's not THAT bad. But at the same time, one of the hardest parts of this move has been the community we left behind - our close friends, yes, but also just the comfortable, familiar feeling of chatting with the neighbors, or going to an event at the girls' school and knowing we'd run into lots of people we knew, that there'd always be someone to talk to. It took us a lonnnnng time to build that sense of community, and I know it will take awhile here as well.

And finding couple friends is so damn HARD, anyway. I mean, finding the right combination of four people, where the wives like each other and the husbands like each other and no one's wife thinks anyone's husband is an a-hole and no one's husband thinks anyone's wife is a pain in the ass and no one wants to sleep with anyone else (except the married couples, hopefully) AND everyone equally enjoys a rousing game of Pictionary? Let's face facts: it's a rare jewel.

Which led Stewart and I, one evening, to what I thought (at first) was one hell of an idea: some sort of matchmaking website for couples! I mean, I really think the stigma associated with sites like match.com and eharmony.com is fading fast; more and more people are getting together this way and I remember reading somewhere, recently, that 20% of couples these days meet online - which makes it the most popular method.

So why not couples, too? There could be separate questionnaires for both partners (with questions like "who is the greatest clutch hitter of all time?" for the men and "what's your policy on gossip?" or "chocolate: milk, dark or white?" for the women) as well as one they can fill out together - this one would cover the really important issues like favorite board games, restaurants, and parenting philosophies (after all, you need friends who won't stop taking your calls after you tell them about the time you "jokingly" put your kids in the trunk of the car when you left the mall). Then I think there should probably be some sort of "sense of humor" test, and only those couples with compatible scores would be recommended to one another because, come on - is there anything (socially) worse than hanging out with people who don't laugh at the same things you do? I don't think so.

Just one little snafu I'm still trying to sort out - how to keep this site from attracting the attention of sex pervs (married sex pervs, but sex pervs nonetheless). This whole thing has the potential to go in the WRONG direction, big time. We don't need anyone thinking that "Scattergories" is a euphemism for "disgusting things to do on a Saturday night that you wouldn't tell anyone, EVER."

RTT: The joys of little boys

Normally I like to do this on Tuesday morning, but...well, I just didn't. And it's still Tuesday. So while I am failing to meet my own internal deadlines, I'm not actually failing. An important distinction for perfectionists* such as myself to keep in mind.

(*You know, I'm not even sure I can claim this particular character trait anymore. I think I definitely used to be a perfectionist, but let's face facts - once you've had kids, you let a lot of things slide.)



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I think it would be far more interesting if, rather than the typical and ubiquitous "belly pics," pregnant women were to post monthly videos of themselves in bed at night, flailing like beetles as they try to flip from one side of their bodies onto the other. I know that my own personal videos of this nature would sure as SH*T be entertaining, and we might even learn something from one another - a few insider tricks and tips, perhaps. Pointers for negotiating The Flip while simultaneously suffering excruciating sciatic nerve pain, massaging a debilitating leg cramp or repositioning a Snoogle would, of course, be appreciated immensely. They would also earn you bonus points in the sure-to-follow video game version. (Just think what THAT would do for bedrest boredom.)

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We spent last Saturday visiting my cousin, Abby, whose son Jack is three months younger than Nolan. I wasn't sure what to expect of the playdate, you know, sharing-and-just-generally-not trying-to-kill-one-another-wise, but was stunned by their pleasant attitudes, harmonious side-by-side play and, dare I say, impeccable (for two three-year-old boys) manners with one another. Later, when we got together with more family for dinner, I made a point of mentioning how impressed I was by this behavior - twice.

And then I looked from the kitchen into the living room and saw Jack, face-down and defenseless on the sofa, with my "precious angel" of a son sitting on his back and pushing Jack's face further down into the cushions, teeth gritted in rage because "he took my drink."

So much for manners. And for, you know, not having to worry that he might be a sociopath.

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I recently bought two pairs of maternity jeans. They were expensive. Thoughts of purposefully gaining weight after the baby is born so I can get some more use out of them have actually crossed my mind.

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At my most recent prenatal checkup, my OB/GYN determined that our little bundle of love is hanging out upside down - legs down, head up by my ribs. (Well, technically I suppose he's right-side up, but when it comes to labor and delivery you really want them getting a pretty serious case of head rush in there.) She said that we would give it time, but if necessary she could try to "turn him around" manually.

Um, OW. C'mon kid - somersaults are fun!
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Pregnancy ticker, day 181: "Your baby's lungs are now capable of breathing air!" Too bad this doesn't mean he's actually ready to come out, since he's taken quite the liking to his Michael Flatley, "Lord of the Bladder" routine in there.

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I still check on Nolan every night before I go to bed. He'll be four next month. Stewart teases me mercilessly about this, wondering if I'll be doing this when he's a teenager. I mean, I'm not interested in walking in on anything gross when he's 14 years old, but right now I can't help myself and just can't imagine not going in there. I just don't know how I'm ever going to put an end to it. And now we're having another baby, who will eventually be sharing a room with Nolan, and of course I'll have to check on the baby, and Nolan will be lying right there, so I might as well check on him, too...

Yeah. It's going to be awhile.

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It's too late to share this advice for use in during 2009's fair season, but I'd like to share a helpful hint, perhaps for 2010, that occurred to me when we went to the Cumberland County Fair about a month ago. Approximately six months ahead of time (so March or April, I guess) get yourself good and pregnant. That way, anyone who might normally be tempted to comment on the amount of fair food you've managed to consume in the span of one evening will have no socially acceptable excuse for doing so. At least not one that doesn't result in them getting slapped across the face with your fried dough.

(I'm just kidding. If you really did that, all the powdered sugar and cinnamon would come right off and at that point, it wouldn't even be worth eating.)

It'll take FIVE minutes, tops.

Despite a complete lack of networking, writing and heck - even reading lately, I've somehow got quite a lot in the works here at Piecemeal People. And by "quite a lot," I mean that I have at least five finished projects that could be posted here - if I weren't so steadfast when it comes to my rule about customers and gift-recipients seeing their orders in person before seeing them online. As I might have mentioned a time or two, Piecemeal People items make! great!! gifts!!! and I don't want to ruin anyone's surprise.

(I also have a frequent-customer-who-shall-remain-nameless who is really dragging a-s-s, for lack of a better spelled-out word, when it comes to mailing out a few presents she ordered from me. Like, three months ago. Now, normally I wouldn't use phrases like "dragging a-s-s" to describe my dear, dear customers, but this particular customer and I are on "phrases like dragging a-s-s" terms.)

(You know who you are, a-s-s dragger.)

End result: I am at a bit of a loss for photos. Seriously - I got nothin'. Well, I always have pictures of the kids, who are pretty cute, but let's be honest - they're not really drumming up any new business. So here's what I'm thinking: I'm thinking it would be just wonderful if any customers or gift-recipients currently reading this post - and feeling what I'm certain is a palpable tug on their heartstrings - would (finish reading this, leave me a nice long comment full of praise and adoration and then) go get their cameras, take pictures of their Piecemeal People orders or gifts and send them to me.* On Aunt Bonnie's coffee table? Over Ruby's crib? Grouped together on Max's wall? The carriage and initials in Katie and Cara's room? The family portrait I made for Carys? Molly and Nick's initials? Carson's monogram? Gianna's triptych? The troublesome tractor? Lilah's name?

I would love to see how these pieces look in their new homes and would really, REALLY love to be able to post Piecemeal People-related photos more frequently. I know it means getting up, and I know it's just one more freaking thing to do, but look at it this way - you'll be off the hook when it comes to buying me something for Christmas.

(*As I write this I realize I am setting myself up for contest-like levels of rejection. What can I say? I'm fearless. And also desperate. And also maybe I just never learn.)

As you can see, I already got the ball rolling with a photo of the cherries I made for my mother for Christmas last year, which is now sitting on a shelf in her dining room, and the family portrait I made back in college, which hangs on the wall at the bottom of the stairs to the family room. And I timed myself, and it took me 22 minutes to take both pictures, load them onto the computer, edit them ever-so-slightly (for optimal viewing pleasure) and load them into this blog post.

OK, so that's kind of a long time. But it won't take you as long if you're just e-mailing them. C'mon...pleeeeeease? And don't do that thing where you don't send me a picture because you assume someone else will do it instead. Assume NO ONE else will do it and my happiness rests squarely on YOUR shoulders. K? Good.