I’ve got a lovely bunch of cocnuts, originally uploaded by shellgreenier.

But it think it’s upside down. :( oh oh.

Spending a lot of time in the garden recently. I’ve started dividing the plants, taking clippings to start and planting more seeds. It’s been super rainy and everything but the tomatoes are loving it. The tomatoes are hating it, in fact, they think they are in hell. I think I am losing them. I don’t know what else to do for them. Poor things

I started selling pieces of my garden off on etsy. Check out the links to the left for more. I’m also open to trading for things I don’t have yet, so let me know if you are interested.

I turned on the television today for my daughter. The station comes in to two anchor people talking about Tim Russert. In their all too annoying break from journalistic integrity, the segment is entitled something like “What can we learn?” and they go on about what was done wrong bothin the life of Russert and in the aftermath of his heart attack. I turn the channel to Do Do (Dora) and sit down at the computer slightly annoyed. I, recent graduate of my third certification in CPR and First Aid as of Saturday, know what went wrong. He was mortal, we all are.

I had this happy idea that if you preform CPR long enough/sincerely enough/prayed hard enough/carried the right talismen/wore the right shoes somehow the person would magically snap out of it, jump up, shake your hand and walk away. But, for some reason the statement “keep going until medical help arrives or until the person regains consciousness” didn’t seem right after the sixth thime I heard it in ten minutes, so I asked the wrong question…

“How often does a person regain consciousness during CPR?” It wasn’t answered. Instead I got “The chance of a person walking out of the ER two days later is 5%, this chance is increased to 50-60% with the use of an AED. With children, the prognosis is less than that.” So with that, my happy fantasy of the eighty year old jumping up and skipping away down the street was shattered. But then the perspective…

“If you are performing CPR on someone, they were dead the moment their heart stopped, all you are doing is everyting in your power to bring them back.” CPR isn’t about sustaining life, it’s about playing God. Truth is, Russert was dead when he hit the floor, no amount of CPR or AED would have changed that unless the fates deemed it, and an AED is only useful if his heart was in some sort of weird arythmia (V. fib), so if it stopped completely the unit wouldn’t have shocked him anyway. Most CPR done by paramedics is just for show, to give the family a sense of hope. It makes sense.

 Not all the press is exploiting this the way Channel 3 has, NBC released these photos of the cast of Meet the Press breaking into tears during a taping…these intimate photos they probably had no right in releasing if they had any part of a soul. Might as well make one last ditch effort to capitalize off the man, right?

Simplemom.net tells me I should narrow down my daily blog intake to a healthy amount, citing 75 as a bit much (then what is 104?). They say it will help me with my time management. Yeah… I just don’t see that happening anytime soon. I admit, my Bloglines runneth over, but what if I miss a day of Dooce or DaddyTypes? What if one clever Bossy-ism slips past my screen? What if I miss a Crafty Crow suggestion of some wonderful art project in all of their slightly super saturated photojournalistic glory? You know, the ones you try with your child that leave you frustrated to tears with a wailing eight month old on one hip and a toddler, a chair and two walls covered in paint, chalk, marker and a pint of sand. The fun ones.

I love blogs like House on Hill Road, Sycamore Stirrings and Sugar City Journal, they sit in a folder I reserve for particularly guilt-driven days when I want nothing more than to see smiling children in perfectly primed, coordinated, freshly bleached whites. I close my eyes and pretend for a minute that it is my house (the same with my “House Fodder” folder, not so much parent based…minus ohdeedoh…but equally as gluttonous).

I’m your normal stay at home mom of two (thing one: 29 months, thing two: 8 months). We practice frugal living, urban homesteading, freegan tactics and at times deep, deep denial to make it through. Life isn’t nearly as perfect as a lot of SAHMs make it out to be. I have visions of sugar plums and that 1950’s house wife dancing through my head in the wee hours of the morning before I get woke up by the co-sleeping, attachment parented baby wiggling a diaper butt in my face and the toddler beginning her repetitive chant of “malk, malk, maaaaaalk” that starts my day.

I think I’m 25, but I still feel 19 (until nap time) and I swear college was just a few weeks ago. Where did the time go? How did I get…established? I left my career as an Art Director in a Publishing House to marry my husband and become a mommy, a job I wouldn’t trade for the world: because there are way too many people on the world and its hard enough trying to convince my husband of adding a third, let alone a couple billion. But it suits me, at times the walls close in and I need a good cup of tea to get me through (or coffee if the walls are really, really close). But all my credentials and all the talent in the world wouldn’t make me a better mother than my sense of humor, my survival gear and a garden hose (think about that one for a bit).

Travel back with me, will you, to 2003-ish. Sitting in the publishing house talking to one of the reps about a Jam festival she was heading to that weekend. I think names like OAR and such were passed around. Ah, Bonaroo, the giant music festival in the west. How you tempted me for years and yet I still never made it to you Elysian-esque Fields.

 I wake up this morning to this…article about Metallica and Chris Rock opening this year’s festival. WTF? I’m not a big “WTF” person, but this deserves a big, giant expletive.

In a bit in his set about Prozac and other medications, Rock chastised the crowd, who he said was likely on “performance-enhancing drugs.”

“You all should be ashamed of yourselves for taking antidepressants to see a comedian,” joked Rock. “I am an antidepressant!”

Yeah….about that antidepressant. Sad face. David says “there’s always Coachella, but with a line up being led by Prince, I think I’ll pass.

252776-R1-00-2, originally uploaded by foampeanut87.

I’m in love…I just happen to be in it. I never find a photo I like of myself, let alone fall in love with. Thanks laur.

- i like grass.

252776-R1-10-12, originally uploaded by foampeanut87.

These are a few of my favorite things…

Apparently embedding hates me. Check the video out here.

Via Cute Overload