teeny tiny pajama goodness

i have a confession to make.  i have a pajama problem.  i love of them.  i really love of them.  so much so that my favorite holiday party to host is the "new year's day pajama potluck brunch."  brunch and pajamas and friends?  be still my heart!

most years i get a new pair of pajamas from my mom.  she usually gets herself matching ones and over the years this has morphed into one ridiculous continuous exchange of pajamas.  now that i have a sister in law and nieces the fun has multiplied!  here's a few of us last year in our nick and nora jammies*

*is there any other kind?  we love these!

so, this year the mms threatened to put a full stop to the greatest gift tradition ever.  some savvy shopping on our part yielded matching pjs for the big girls, but not a thing for the littles.  oh, but that same mms is the exact reason why i volunteered to make pjs for the girls...practice!

have you ever made mini-pjs?  they require constant squeals of delight.  they are so darling it hurts.  i have made mms one, and only one, article of clothing thus far and spent more time giggling about it then i did in actual construction.  oh, and that's the other thing, baby clothes take less than 20 minutes to make and itty bitty scraps of fabric.  so, on it's way to those little girls are these ensembles:

do you die?  

once i got on a roll, i whipped up some matching pjs for my other niece and nephew.

monkey pjs complete with knee patches for the boy and ruffles for the girl!

please excuse the fact that my photography is not likely to win any awards.

is everything cuter in miniature?  i think so!  

total cliche: prep to be a stay at home mom apparently means getting my craft on.  good thing i love to sew like buddy the elf likes to smile.**read:  it's my favorite.

how 'bout you?  any cliche worthy christmas gift traditions you want to share?

at 33 weeks a mms is a lot like...

again, mms = man in my stomach.  in a moment of "brilliance" this morning at 5 am*, i came up with moms.  man out of my stomach.  but that only really works if i started with mims, and i can't go changing that now.  because mms has some history with me. when i was a nasty little middle schooler**, we called our math teacher mms. math-teacher because we thought we were so clever and we always thought she looked just a little on the pregnant side.  i am trying to come clean here!  how awful of us!  anyway, it apparently amused me enough to stick and now the moniker is all mine!!!*thanks, bud, for the extra couple hours of sleep!**are nasty and middle schooler redundant?  

thanks, wikipedia, for the illustration

back to the point, there is one, of course.  being 33 weeks pregnant feels a lot like how a lava lamp looks.  i just had my second breakfast, mini butterfinger, thankyouverymuch, and am now experiencing the constant flow of mms.  its a little hard to sit down.  at times he gets a little mangled in my ribs, etc. or sits just so i can hardly breathe at all.  and to be honest, i think it is completely awesome.  i have weird dreams where i can grab his little feet or hands.  they're really weird dreams.  mostly, i can tell you his little butt sits on the top of the right side of the bump and i call him sir squishy mac tooshie bottom.

also, don't think i don't know every joint in town who serves this:

lifeofanarchitect.com, i don't know you but i love this photo.  and strangely, wikipedia is silent on the subject of pellet ice.  just went on my to-do list.

this photo causes me to drool.  yummmmm, pellet ice...mms loves him some pellet ice and has been known to do back flips as i crunch through my fifth or so cup of the day.  greenlife is my current go-to ice provider.  an employee recently watched and complemented me on my ability to create the perfectly filled pellet ice cup.  

do i even need to tell you the total cliche here?!  btw...total cliche: i wrote about pregnancy.  for good measure, here's me and shua when we found out that mms was indeed a man and not a miss.

what's your favorite kind of ice*?  don't pretend like you've never thought about this.  *and where can i get it?

"there's no such thing as bad weather,

there's only bad gear," a wisonsin acquaintance recently said this to me, as a means of illustrating the finer qualities of northern weather.  hmmm...after having read this and this over at a cup of jo, i was fairly convinced we might try to raise the mms to be somewhat more nordic* than his momma.

*a boy i knew in college, who happened to be named bjorn and happened to be from norway, advised i spend increasing increments of time daily braving the ridiculous minnesota winter in just a t-shirt and shorts.  i did not take his advice.

so, when yesterday necessitated a walk, an actual outdoor walk, i wasn't about to let this slow me down:

Wed

• Hi 50°
• Lo 36°

Rain/Snow

i fear no forecast!

thankfully shua left me his raincoat, which despite his fine physique does provide a bit more ease for the mms.  i trudged through the rain, got my outdoor fix and get bragging rights for doing so.  cause really, i only like this advice now because i live so far south that it seems somewhat plausible in the winter.  get back to me this summer...

bt-dubs...total cliche: i walked in the door, hung up my coat and the sun came out.  norts!

how do you feel about the weather?  are you a winter hater or embracer-of-all-seasons?

little victories!

apparently the mms* *man in my stomach thinks that 3 am is the new 8 am.  meaning that every night, i get up in the wee hours of the morn and spend several hours awake before going back to bed.  a t-minus 6 weeks to little man's arrival, you'd think i'd want to talk about all sorts of important things.  if you thought that, you probably don't know me very well.

no, let's talk about those teeny tiny minutia of projects that start to get under your skin until, with or without mms, you are up at 3 am concocting elaborate plans for world domination.  what?!  you don't do this?!  ok, judge me not, but my makeup bag has been driving me batty for weeks.  here's the offender:

(does it look to anyone else like the bag had a little accident?)

she seems innocent enough.  i like that she has a big butt and therefore adequate amount of storage.  and i can pick her up and walk over to the full length mirror to plop down on my hiney to apply my face paint.  that's where the love ends.  victoria's secret...really?  i think a small piece of me dies every time i look at that logo.  and what is with the tiny opening?  i start each makeup app with the ritual unloading and aligning of the goods.

what this lazy efficient girl needed was a way to see and reach everything without feeling like i was reaching into hermoine's magic purse.  pinterest proved less then helpful in my quest for "the solution."  but driving home one day with new lipstick booty to be added to the offending bag of shame, it occurred to me a cup would be the perfect vessel to display the array.  and that's when this happened:

bam!

my current pride and joy.  i have made at least two friends come look at it.  yes, i am that person.  let me introduce you to makeup station 2.0.  this free upgrade was brought to you by the isle of misfit serving dishes. the unloved of my china hutch has now been brought forth to glory!

on the right we have one of mom's tarnished patinated* mint julep cups** holding all things lippy.  *i googled that; who really knows the past tense of patina?! **because mms is not really conducive to the sipping of mint juleps, nor would i take the time to polish these bad boys just for a cocktail.

down front we have face stuff.  to the left we have the all important eye shadows.  and finally, backing up the whole thing is the other patinated julep cup filled to the brim with brushes, mascara, and the essential eyelash curler.

would it be too superlative to say this is everything i dreamed it'd be?!  i don't really care.  it's true.  makeup station 2.0 is pretty.  organized.  functional.  and look who watches over me as i apply my war paint:

thor.  i love him.

so, yes, this is how i am starting my blog.  i should possibly have my head checked.  or get more sleep.

bt-dubs...total cliche: soon-to-be-mom-blogs-on-trivialities.