Amber Dusick

woodmouse toys in Simply Handmade magazine

So six months ago, a magazine, Simply Handmade by Northridge Publishing, contacted me about showing one of my wooden items in their magazine.  The magazine world as you probably know works about a half year (or more) ahead of schedule.  I sent the requested info and then forgot all about it.  

Until today when a box arrived in the mail!

Now here is the deal, I was expecting another tiny image on a page as part of a collage of other work (like in the two other zines my wooden work has been in) so imagine my shock when I flipped through and found an entire two page spread devoted to it!  I had no idea.  

In addition to an incredible feature, they sent me a box of crafty goodies.  Oh, yes please!  

So Simply Handmade is a new publication that focuses on handmade projects and includes how-to instructions for them.  Tons of inspiring crafty projects in there.  I can't wait to spend more time pouring through it.  

And for all you fellow crafters reading, you can submit your own work for consideration, I believe they are accepting work for Jan/Feb 2012 right now and here are the themes they want to focus on.    

new crappy pictures at www.crappypictures.com

(UPDATE - I broke the site!  But I fixed it again.  Links should work now.  Sorry for the mess.  Gee, that was stressful.)

Yeah.  So I moved them.  All the future Illustrated with Crappy Pictures posts will live at Crappy Pictures.  So subscribe over there if you are wanting to see more of those.  I'd love it if you came and joined me in my new spot!  In fact, I just posted a new one about eating in restaurants with kids.  I won't be posting them over here.  I may mention them, but I won't post them in full here.

Full post at: what it is like to eat in a nice restaurant...illustrated with Crappy Pictures™

I started wringing my hands over here, knowing all the new subscribers (hi!) want to see the illustrated posts primarily.  But this is my random, crazy space!  I get to do what I want here and have no idea what I'm doing.  So I decided the best thing to do rather than annoy people with stuff they don't want to read would be to move them to a dedicated spot.  

I want this space to remain the narcissistic "me catchall" it has been all along.  Crafting, cooking, parenting, wooden toy making and all that random stuff.  

So we're back to normal over here.  

Head to the new spot: Crappy Pictures and come and say hi!            

I got dressed again!

I haven't done a "fashionesque" post for a bit now.  You probably don't want to hear me rant (again) about how yoga pants are the sweatpants of my generation but it is true.  A lazy habit I'm (still) trying to break.  Sigh.    

So when I do bother to get dressed, it is like a celebration!  Get out the camera, I'm wearing an outfit! 

Although, other than the shirt by MaryInk there is really nothing interesting going on here.  This is my default "I have to actually leave the house" outfit right now.  Do you have one of those?

My new hair thing is doing a twisty thing instead of a braid.  Watch out, I'm getting adventurous!  I'm still secretly coveting the bright orange bob though.  

I did snip my bangs a little.  Just to see. 

Baby steps, baby steps.

The sad thing is that I used to be downright fashionable.  Unique.  A risk taker even.  A trendsetter maybe.  And now?  Well, let's just say I never in all my self-centered teen years thought I'd grow up to be so darn...normal.  Mom-like.  And dare I say it?  I don't want to say it!  Ouch, it is so hard to admit. Okay, I'll say it.  

Boring.

They say that Einstein wore the same thing everyday (although I've also heard that this was exaggerated) but rather than fact check, I'm going to believe it.  Yeah.  Let's go with that.  We are all so busy being brilliant that we can't be bothered anymore.  Right?  Are you with me?                   

------------

What is your default outfit?  Come on, you totally have one.  Right?            

why my husband deserves Father's Day...illustrated with Crappy Pictures™

INTRO: Here is installment #3 in my "real life parenting" series.  These posts will continue here at Crappy Pictures.  And you can "like" the whole series on Facebook here.  I draw crappy pictures because I don't have actual photos of these experiences. Here goes...

------------------------------------------------------

My husband totally deserves to celebrate Father's Day.  It isn't because he loves his kids though. It isn't because he keeps a job to help feed them or because he'll protect them if a lion walks through our front door. Nope. Those things are all part of the dad job description.  The bare minimum.  Nobody gets a day named after them for doing the bare minimum.    

He deserves to celebrate Father's Day because...

He pushes one kid while the other is on his back.  Up hills.  

 

He carries my flowery diaper bag.  In public.  As a bonus, it is hilarious to watch the way he carries it. Always at arm's length.  It needs to be as far away from his person as possible yet still holding it.

 

He has a poor sense of smell. Let me explain why this is great. I can smell a poopy diaper from across the house.  He never has any idea. This means I can innocently ask him to change a diaper and then nonchalantly warn, "Oh, he may have pooped, not sure."  

I'm fairly certain I've just ruined this scheme for myself.

 

He is always, always, always willing to pick up stuff on the way home from work.  With no complaints.

 

He accepts that he will be assaulted when he walks through the front door.

 

And sometimes the assault is of a different kind.  The chocolate or ice cream variety.  And he heads back out.  Even at 11:30PM.   

 

Better yet, he doesn't even roll his eyes when I read a another parenting book and announce that everything we have been doing is wrong and now we are doing it like this.  On a biweekly basis.  

 

But mostly, he deserves to celebrate Father's Day because when the kids are crazy he looks at me with that expression that simultaneously says, "What have we done?!" and also "Aren't we lucky?"

And only the very best dads understand that this is what parenting is all about.   

 

PS - I'm closing the comments over here.  Please comment on this post at Crappy PIctures instead!

my kids can draw crappy pictures too! on the kitchen floor.

Can you see this?  No probably not.  See, this is why I've resorted to drawing crappy pictures.  The real thing just isn't as clear.  Or funny.  But this stuff is real I tell you!  I'm not making this up.    

Here, I will translate:

Yes indeed.  Those white squares on the kitchen floor are the PERFECT canvas for his artistic genius. This happened under Papa's watch, not mine.  Being the wonderful husband that he is (he totally knew I would want this documented) he kindly took a photo first before cleaning it up.  

Did you know that dry erase markers wipe off linoleum floors quite nicely?  

Did you know that they don't wipe off from livingroom walls AT ALL?  

I'll spare you the real photo because it was dark and it sucks.  But this is precisely what the wall looks like:

And so we'll have to repaint the wall.  Which we will do just as soon as...  Never.  Or perhaps if we someday sell our house the new owners will take care of it.  

Full disclosure: this story isn't the point of this post.  The point of this post is to tell you that after several people pestered me, I started a Parenting.  Illustrated with Crappy Pictures page on Facebook to keep it all in one place and seperate than this blog which is more of a mish mosh of stuff.  So, uh, "like it" if you do that sort of thing.

I felt bad just writing a post talking about the facebook thing and saying "Hey, like my stuff!" so I was quite pleased when my little one ruined the wall and kitchen floor.  Blog fodder!  I can work with this!  

What have your little ones drawn on lately?    

Wait!  I'm moving these posts over to Crappy Pictures, and closing comments here, so head over there! 

 

did everyone leave? can I come out now?

So my blog had a party over the weekend.  Like a HUGE surprise party.  I'm not sure who invited who, but pretty soon everyone was inviting everyone and droves of people showed up and I hid in the closet. This many in one day:

And then they just kept coming.

I had to take a snapshot of the # to believe it.  Now I'm certain I'm breaking a law of blogging ettiquette by sharing that number.  However, since this blog is entirely for my own fun then I don't need to care about ettiquette.  As long as I don't have to write thank you notes we're good.  And yes, I understand that is "pageviews" not people.  It is entirely possible that just one person (me most likely) viewed my blog 102416 times so this could all be lies.        

Anyway, for a day or two I was all "holy shit, I feel famous!" from the closet I was nervously hiding in but I'm pretty sure everybody is gone now.  We're back to just us, my usual handful of loyal readers so I can come out of hiding.  (phew, love you guys for sticking around to clean up the party mess)  If you are new here and decided to stay I hope you aren't too dissappointed. I'm not actually very funny.

At home, I've let this go to my head.  "I'll draw a cartoon!" is how I (attempt to) threaten my husband now.  As in, he teases me by saying he needs a nap and I retort with, "I'm gonna draw a cartoon at you!!!"  Or I'll ask him to take the trash out and I'll warn, "If you don't, I'll draw a cartoon!!!"  This doesn't actually work.  Given that he himself shared the link I have no angle here.  By the way, my husband is awesome. (I totally put that there for his sake but it is also true.)  

To celebrate my 15 minutes of fame I made cookies.

And ate them all in one day so then I made brownies.  The same night.  And ate them all so fast that I forgot to take a picture.  Then I made banana bread because we had bananas that were going brown so I just had to.  You know, to not be wasteful.  I think it is safe to say I couldn't actually handle being famous.  Some people turn to drugs but I think I'd have a serious baked goods addiction on my hands.  

So I have no idea how to end this post.  I had to write something or my nerves would take over and I'd never write anything here again.  Which is precisely where I'm at with drawing crappy pictures.  But I'll give it a go. Eventually.  Maybe when I get a little more sleep.

 

-------------

PS  - thanks for all the lovely (and funny!) comments about my crappy illustration posts.  Seriously, it was so much fun reading them all.  Wait, we agreed there'd be no thank you notes!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

what it is like to (not) sleep at night - illustrated with crappy pictures™

INTRO: Here is installment #2 in my "real life parenting" series.  (This series will be continued over on Crappy Pictures so head over there for more!)  I draw crappy pictures because I don't have actual photos of these experiences.  Here goes...

------------------------------------------------------

I've always been jealous of my husband's ability to fall asleep and stay asleep. It isn't his fault that he is a deep sleeper.  But I can't help it.  It totally pisses me off.  

We climb in bed at 9:00PM...

By 9:03 my husband is completely asleep.

I'm nursing my youngest and haven't even begun to think about sleeping yet.  I lay there motionless, pretending to be calm and relaxed so he'll fall asleep. Anyway, I'm cold since the blankets aren't on my top half.

So I pretend to be sleeping but really I'm going over the "to do" list or re-winding conversations from earlier.  Or having pretend conversations that might happen in the future.  On a good night the baby settles pretty fast.

Finally, around 10:00PM he is asleep.  Success!  He rolls over and my body is my own for the first time all day.  I can pull up the blankets a little.  I close my eyes for real.  Start to relax and let go...

Until I hear a noise.  

Becoming a mama has given me heightened spidey senses.  A tiny noise a mile away wakes me up like a mama bear, ready to protect her young.

My husband did not inherit this quality with parenthood.

Wide-eyed, I strain my ears to hear.  This particular noise is one I'm all too familiar with.

Enter 4.5 year old.  I thought he was asleep by now.  He has no concept of being quiet while people are sleeping, so he barges in loudly asking for random shit.  I have to jump out of bed and rush him out of the room so he doesn't wake the baby.  This attempt is successful about 50% of the time.  Lets assume it was successful tonight.

So now I'm in the hallway, hearing my 4.5 year old's demands and bargaining with him.  Water, bathroom or covers on or off, etc.  I have no real power here, I'll agree to anything to get him back in bed quietly.  When he has exhausted all the standard stuff, he finishes by needing to tell me something very important, like "I saw a rock today on the ground and it had dirt on it and I forgot to tell you! " and I steer him back to his room.

By the time I head back to my bed, the baby has turned into a starfish.  Legs and arms stretched out, taking up my whole side of the bed.

I slide next to and under him being careful not to wake him.  I can't move.  I'm scared to breathe.  This is a very delicate situation.  I have to move him.  I have to risk it.

The first attempt to move him just makes it worse.  He swings both arms and legs on top of me.  He is stirring now so I can't move a muscle.  I'm like a statue while I listen to his breathing to hear when he is in a deep sleep again to move him.   

Finally, it is midnight and I've successfully moved him.  I haven't heard my 4.5 year old in a while so he must be asleep too.  I fall asleep for the first time!

Until I'm woken by a foot in my eye.  I try to ignore it.  A foot in the eye is a sign that he is starting to move into a lighter sleep.  This means he'll wake up completly to nurse soon.  

So we're nursing again.  I'm half asleep but not mostly just feel like a zombie. My mind wanders to weird stuff.  I close my eyes and see flashes of people and places like a dream except I'm awake.   

Finally he settles again and rolls away.  It is 2:30AM and I can finally get some real sleep!  It is very unlikely that either kid is going to wake me up again. Sweet sleeping bliss.

Until the two cats come in at 5:00AM and announce that they are hungry.  They continue make this announcement every 15 minutes or so.  I ignore them.  But they know.  They know I'm their target. They know I'm awake no matter how hard I pretend.  They finally settle on my feet so that they will be alerted the moment I stir.  I get a few more minutes of sleep.     

Only to be woken at 7:00AM for a new day.  My 4.5 year old skips into our room and gleefully sings, "Morning!  It's morning time!"  Which wakes up the baby who replies with "Mownin!"  Then they start jumping on our bed.  

Even this doesn't wake up my husband.  He is sound asleep. Sometimes I look at his chest rising and falling with his breath to confirm that he is alive before unleashing the kids on him.  

"Go see Papa" I grumble. 

They have to poke his head and repeat "Papa!" over and over and he finally wakes up.

And what is the first thing out of his mouth?  The one and only thing I DON'T want him to say?

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

 

I'm closing comments over here as this post is moving here on Crappy Pictures.  Head over there to comment.  I appreciate your comments!  New posts will all live over there.         
 
 

what does "fulfilled" look like?

Let me backtrack a moment to January.  Remember when it seemed like all the cool kids were picking their "word of the year" to focus on as an intention?  People picked things like balance or space or whatever.  I thought about it and couldn't figure out the perfect one.

At least not right away.  I didn't pick one until March, when Pamela Susan contacted me about sending me her "A Wish For You" necklace. The front has a dandelion and the back is where she stamps your wish word.  Just one word and not just for a year but for the rest of my life.  What was my wish?

Fulfilled.

But what the hell does that mean?  Feeling "fulfilled" probably looks very different from person to person I imagine. For me it usually involves chaos. This is me, right now as I'm typing:

My craft room is a total wreck, there are piles of trash and boxes everywhere. Random toys are piled everywhere that I still haven't put away on the shelves.  I haven't had a shower in several days.  My hair is just tied into a knot.  I have zero makeup on.  I wore this shirt yesterday.   I haven't eaten breakfast yet and it is past noon.   

Did you notice my glasses?  Oh yeah, they are taped together with green duct tape thanks to an unfortunate mishap with my 20 month old being "helpful" last week.  And I can't get new ones for a few more weeks. 

This morning, my husband took the boys to the park for me to have a little time to work on my websites. He'll be home any moment and "work time" will be over and it will be back to focusing on the kids and he'll leave for work.  I have trouble with this pressure of "work NOW...okay...STOP and be a mom" and feeling like I'm on a timer.  Knowing that I have only about 15 minutes of time left it is impossible to be productive or start a project that I won't want to stop.  So I'm writing here instead.

This all sounds like I'm complaining.  But I'm not.  This what being "fulfilled" looks like to me.  I've come to terms with it.  Every time I think I need to quit and just focus on just one thing because it would make my life easier and my hair cleaner I can. not. do. it.  I can't let anything go.  

I need to have it all.  I need to be a wife, mama, artist, crafter, gardener, decorator, homemaker, writer and have a career.  And free time to write on this blog and do other frivilous things just for me. It is total chaos and it involves days without showers, busted glasses and just general imperfectness.  

But I'm fulfilled.  And that is perfect. 

What does "fulfilled" look like to you?   

Shop Update: New Work...

The sun came out so I was able to photograph everything!  Below is all the new stuff, more classic stuff (robots, cell phones, babywearing mamas) are also in the shop.  

Watermelon child, strawberry child, pink wildflower and violet child.  I love seeing them as a group like this.  Like little pairs of best friends chatting.  Notice how the fruits hang with the fruits and the flowers stick to the flowers?  Such is life.  

Two little yellowbell flower children.  I love "bell" style flowers, they look so whimsical.  

Rainbow fairies.  I like to pretend they paint the rainbows in the sky. Refraction of the sun's light?  Nah. The fairies.  

This little boy carrying his just picked flower is so sweet.  He looks so earnest and innocent.  Reminds me of my own boys, the flowers in my yard don't stand a chance because they love to pick a tiny handful for me each day.

The little girl version too.  Something about these remind me of my own childhood summers, running around picking flowers like it was the most amazing thing in the whole world.  Because it was.    

See the rest in the shop.

Updates are few and far between in these parts lately.  Last one was three months ago and the next will probably be the same, just in time for autumn.  I'm really comfortable with how I've slooooooowed woodmouse down.  I'm not allowing myself to feel pressure to make, make, make although it has been hard telling people "no" when they ask about customs or when I'll have more of this or that.  I feel like I have finally found a balance with this.  After only four years!

brothers more often than not

My two boys...

After 20 months, I can finally say they get along more often than not.   

They enjoy playing with each other more often than not.

They cooperate and share with each other more often than not.

They make each other (and me) laugh more often than not.

And I'm relishing being a mama to them more often than not.  

It is about damn time!

I'm sure it won't always be rainbows and kittens but for now I'll enjoy how easy it has been lately.  How much fun it has been lately.  I knew this would happen eventually as my youngest became more verbal and could keep up with my eldest.  Finally.  They laugh and play and just...wow.  Now I get why people say that having "two is easier than one" as I thought that was one of those lies people tell to continue our species.  There might be some truth to it.    

In totally unrelated news, a shop update soon as the sun peeked out for just enough time to take some photos...