Burning Bottle Bottoms

My girlfriends and I burned the bottoms off of glass bottles last weekend. We saw a picture of them on Pinterest with pillar candles inside. It’s quite pretty actually. We had a good time and were pretty mesmerized by the fire, or possibly the fumes from the acetone. We learned that some bottles are just too thick to be cut. Pelligrino sparkling water glass bottles were the ones that cut best. (Good marketing angle there.) We also learned that you have to use a cheap cotton yarn, nothing fancier than that or it won’t work.

What you need:

Glass bottle

Cotton yarn

Lighter or matches

Acetone nail polish remover

Sink full of ice-cold water

Here is the YouTube video that taught me how to do it. It’s pretty simple to follow. Have fun! YouTube Video Link

Life Gave Me You

I’ve been to a few mommy boards online and there’s always the “Blended Family” group. I check them out from time to time. Looking to see how other mom’s handle being step-moms and vice-versa, their partner being a step-parent to their own child. A lot of mom’s are like me, they feel lucky to have their step-children in their life. It’s an experience that has its challenges of course, but it’s always rewarding. I like to post my “two cents” on there from time to time to try and guide the moms who struggle with or don’t enjoy being a step-mom. Most of these step-moms who struggle are the ones who don’t know the other side of the coin, having your partner be a step-parent to your own child.

It is a beautiful thing when you find someone to share your life with; a person that will stand by you every day. It is even more beautiful when they accept your child as one of their own children. My daughter adores my husband. When he tells her they are going to engage in something one on one she glows. She gets this joy on her face because he wants to spend time with her.

It was never difficult to find a spot for Isaiah to snuggle up into my heart. We met on a beach in April of 2009 when he was newly two years old. I had a bag of green grapes and he instantly walked up to me to ask for some. We shared grapes and he toddler talked with me.

Beads are a Girl’s Best Friend

Last night I let Halle stay up to make a necklace using her bead kit. It was a birthday gift from her friend Max. She surprised me with her concentration and skill in necklace creation. She made a pattern and both sides were symmetrical. It was fun. I promised her that she could wear it to school the next day. When we finished she said, “Mommy, do you think this should be a project I do with my Nani (her super fun auntie) or with you?” I replied that it’s up to her. She surprised me again when she said that she wanted to do it with me “It will be our project.” It warmed my heart because although I’m her mom and she loves me, I know that I’m normally known as the fun police. Her Nani is the equivalent of all things fun in her world.

This morning she made me a necklace as well and I promised to wear it to work. I kept my word and wore it proudly. My mom picked her up from school and Halle told her “Grandma, I still have my necklace. I didn’t take it off. Every time I look at it I always remember my mommy”.

Oh how my heart melts when she says such sweet things. Children are so pure and honest.

Procrastination - My Super Power

pro·cras·ti·na·tion [proh-kras-tuh-ney-shuhn, pruh‐]  n.
The act or habit of procrastinating, or putting off or delaying, especially something requiring immediate attention.

Why do I procrastinate? I have told myself “I won’t procrastinate next time” but then of course I do. I can trace back to my elementary school days. I’d wait until the last minute to do a project and my mom would be so mad at me. She’d ask why I always wait until the last minute. Then we’d begin work and hurriedly put something together. I know this will drive me crazy when Halle does it to me. I'll ask her the same thing. "Why did you wait until the last minute?!"

Now at 26 years old and my second bout of college I ask myself again, why do I procrastinate?

Can You be Zero?

Yesterday evening, we went to visit my nephew Mason at home. He’s been out of the hospital for one whole day at this point and my son Isaiah hadn’t met him yet. I assumed that he wouldn’t really be interested in an infant but I took him anyway because he should meet his new cousin.

At first he was a little apprehensive. I offered to sit by him with the baby and he said no and instead sat further away from me. After some time he did come close to me and even asked to hold him. It was precious.

The highlight of the evening was when Isaiah asked me how old he is. Here is a rough re-cap of that conversation in which others also tried to chime in and help me.

I: “How old is he?”

“Three days old”

I: “No. How old is he?”

“He’s three days old”

I: “I know that but how old is he?”

(What?) “He is three days old. Remember when your dad dropped you off at school in the morning three days ago? That’s the day he was born. So he’s three days old.”

I: “No. I know that but how old is he?”

This goes back and forth a few more times and others in the house try to help him understand the concept of age in days.

I: “Ok, I’m four. So is he zero?” as he holds his hand up in the air in a fist.

Everyone in the room looks at each other, “yes he’s zero”. LOL