If you give a girl some earrings . . .
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On chipmunks and chachkis


Just when I thought I was going to be oh-so-regular with my blog updates I had an attack of life again.

It started last week when Emma went to Dr. McMeltme (name changed to indicate the hottiness) for her orthodontic check-up. You may recall that Emma has a small jaw and some honkin' permanent teeth. The combination is a job-security-let-me-invest-in-an-Aspen-time-share-dream-come-true for Dr. McMeltme and a pain in the wallet for us. (Oh who am I kidding? Her crooked crowded teeth are a dream come true for me, too. Did I mention his blue eyes? And that little starburst that gleams off his teeth when he smiles? And the wavy hair? Did I mention the wavy hair?)

Anyway . . .

Dr. McMeltme decided that the wait was over. Her permanent teeth were stuck behind baby teeth and one was digging in so hard that she was developing an abscess. He ordered six of her upper baby teeth to be removed, pronto!

From there it was a series of phone calls to our dentist, to the oral surgeon who had a policy of not seeing patients under the age of 10, back to the dentist, back to the surgeon until it was finally determined that the surgeon would waive his "under-10" policy and pull her teeth on Friday.

Emma was a trooper! She was a model patient and only cried a little bit. One of the assistants even slipped me an envelope with her teeth in it, against policy. She was all gauzy and loopy, though. (Emma, not the assistant) I allowed her to lay on the couch and watch Scooby Doo for the rest of the day. (Again, Emma. Not the assistant)

When I looked at the teeth in the envelope though . . . oooh, that was a near-fainting experience. Two of the front ones were obviously close to coming out anyway. They looked like typical baby teeth when they fall out. You know . . . cute and rootless. The second two were more wicked - had roots about a quarter-inch long. The molars, though - oh my gosh! They looked like Monique's teeth from Desperate Housewives! To think about Emma having holes the size of those roots in her mouth . . . ewwwww!

I made her a milkshakeToothless_emma.

The tooth fairy brought her a fortune.

She got to watch a lot of Scooby Doo!

And now she's just an adorable chipmunk with all those missing teeth ----->

So between caring for my chipmunk and being busy as the TCM (Troop Cookie Manager . . .we're very important!) and getting all the logos and instructions and mail merging done for the Kit of the Month club that will launch Friday/Saturday-ish, and watching an insane amount of new TV (still a Romber fan, I must say) I found no time for blogging.

But I did shop for chachkis!

I have this new kitchen, see. And I have this new dining room furniture sitting on a fancy wood floor, but I'm not much of a decorator. And by "not much" I mean "really lousy". I never know what to hang on the walls so I end up hanging nothing. And my chachkis consist primarily of items that I won at Pokeno many, many years ago.

My friend Sharon hired a decorator. I was jealous at first, but then when I saw the finished results I was no longer jealous.

More like INSANELY JEALOUS!!! All of her chachkis are cohesive and interesting. There's a variety of materials and textures. And heights. And don't EVEN get me started on how nice the furniture is arranged or that new light fixture over the kitchen table. I might just have to tear a clump of her hair out at the roots.

Just joking, Sharon.

Sort of.

I mentioned to the other moms at the dog sign (because those of us who walk our kids to school congregate at the sign that says "No dogs allowed on school property. Please pick up your dog's excrement.") (And no, I'm not kidding - could I make that up?) that my friend hired a decorator and the convo went like this:

Becky: It would KILL me to write a check for something like that.

Me: You wouldn't pay a decorator?

Becky: Not even if he was wearing a suit made out of Justin Timberlake!

OK, she didn't say that. It was a line from one of my new favorite shows "Rules of Engagement". Love me some Putty. Kronk's got his new groove on! But I digress . . .

Becky doesn't need a decorator because she's got the chachki gift. She has wooden skis hung criss-crossed on the wall over the piano, for goodness' sake. Who thinks of that?! I'll tell you who - a person gifted in the fine art of chachkis and wall art, that's who.

Do you know how many swags I own? That would be a big fat zero. Live houseplants? Zero again. (I killed a cactus. True story.)

But where there's a will, there's a way. And by "will" I mean Will Williams, famous decorator to the stars, who's coming over on Tuesday! (I made that up.)

But I'm trying. My confidence was boosted by an early success. I created this pleasant grouping for the dead space in the kitchen corner behind the sink:   Sink_chachkis

See the variety of heights and textures? That's good, right? And see how the candle stand mirrors the curly wrought iron of the plate stand? Repetition, good. There's even swirlage on the kiln-fired vase (make sure you pronounce that VAHze when you read it, 'kay?) I'm sure a professional would vomit in my sink, but I'm digging this grouping, especially when the under-cabinet lighting reflects the colors of the mosaic plate.

And so this minor success (and if you think otherwise, please keep it to yourself and revel in your chachki goddessness while laughing behind my back, thank you very much) led me, bewilderingly, to think that I was qualified to arrange fake greenery in a wide-mouthed vasey urn thing that I think looks more like a trash can than a vase, but John digs it.

Top_o_the_cabinet_to_youThis wide-mouthed vasey urn thing that looks more like a trash can is currently on top of a kitchen cabinet, looking rather empty, if I'm being honest. There isn't much clearance, so I thought perhaps if I arranged some hanging greenery it would look better. I had a Michaels coupon, after all.

But I was a bit of a lost puppy in the floral department of Michaels. It's like they just EXPECT you to know what you're looking for! After wandering around aimlessly I finally picked out two clumps of some green stuff that said it was Chinese something. It stuck straight up, which maybe should have been a clue, but I had a grand plan to bend all the stalks over the side of the wide-mouthed vasey urn thing that looks more like a trash can and thought (in my head) that it would look quite lovely.

I even thought to buy one of those styrofoam wafers to hold the stalks. I'm no decorator but I understand the laws of physics. So there's that. I had one of the clumps stuck down tight in the styrofoam wafer, all arranged and bent over the sides of the wide-mouthed vasey urn thing, and back up on the cabinet when Emma walked in.

Me: Hi Emma! What do you think of this?

Emma: It looks like a dead plant. Except that it's not yellow.

Me: Oh. Yeah, I guess with the stalks all folded over it does sort of resemble . . .

Emma: (interjecting as she picks up the other clump from the kitchen counter) Hey! This one looks alive!

So, uh, yeah. I'm not good with greenery.

But I have a big glass turquoise bowl filled with some of those fashionably pointless decorator balls(and no, I'm not talking about Will Williams this time) on my dining room table and it looks FABULOUS! So I'm starting to get a little chachki-fidence. (See what I did there?)

It's very late. Tomorrow, even. I would have finished this post earlier, but I had, like, HOURS of TV to watch tonight. (Technically last night, if I'm being technical) I was somewhat bewildered by the Idol results - I thought Alaina was worse than Amy, and don't even get me started on Antonella. The guy votes were easier to handle because most of them are sort of bad anyway. (eek, sorry)

And did any of you fellow fans quote The Princess Bride during Grey's Anatomy? She was only "mostly dead". Heh. Denny was looking HOT! A shame that he's all dead and all. No real way to bring him back unless maybe each of the main characters, in between hooking up with each of the other main characters, has a near-death experience. I was just glad that Merideth, while visiting the afterlife, didn't meet a kid she tortured in middle school who would proceed to pummel her until I ran screaming from the theater.

Oh wait, that was Flatliners.

I think it's time to sleep!

RKQOTD (Me: Good night, Boo. Let me give you a hug. Hey, you smell good after that shower! Karl: Like Shamu? Me: Uh. OK, sure. Like Shamu. Karl: I said SHAMPOO! Me: My bad.)