Posts in Rediculosity
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You guys, I have something to tell you. 

We're moving. Hurrah!!! And also, poopsicles. 

I can't tell you much more than that right now. Because part of the blogging busienss model is to be cagey and dramatic and keep people guessing about what is happening in your life and why you need to be so dark and poetic and say stuff without actually saying stuff.

That and also because Mr. Chef has not officially signed anything. Nor do we have any tickets. Or visas. Or ideas about what we're going to do with our fur children. Who are not invited. Wah. Wha. Also WAHHHHA. (PS totally unsarcastic. I'm, like, legit supersad about this.)

What we know is that it's happening. Allegedly. Sometime. Maybe August? Like right around the time when I'm supposed to be on vacationn? The vacation to replace the one that had to be canceled at the behest of the company because of Important Secret Spy Chefsicle duties? 

Anyway, aside from pooping in my pants, and being insanely excited about the prospect of new vistas, new firends, new foods, and possibly a drinking out of a coconut with a straw while hammocking my heart out, I'm spending my time alternating between having anxiety attacks about what needs to be done before we go and wanting to stick my head in a sandbox full of Xanax and IGNORE IGNORE IGNORE. I'm also making lists. Lists. Lists. Lists. Then ignoring my lists and complaining about just how much there is to do and how I have no idea where to start because there's so much and I need to write it all down and colour code it all and then make spreadsheets and deadlines, and then I freak out because that just seems like so much stuff and so I'd better just drink a beer and watch Breaking Bad.


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Toy Manufactures, This Is A Terrible Product

Dear manufactures of bathtub crayons:

I blame you for this:

Photo 1

And this:

Photo 17

And this:

Photo 10

And this:

Photo 18

And also for crayon on non-paper surfaces varied and sundry, including the dish drainer, plates, the couch, walls manifold and various, floors, windows, cats, novels, and of course, my baby.

I also blame you for a nervous breakdown (mine) and powerful frustration (my child's); mixed messages are difficult to interpret when you are one.

Thank you very much.


Photo 13



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Small Style, Potty Style

We've been rocking the potty training look around here, so high fashion toddler outfits are not really happening. In fact, today I was all, HOLY SMOKERS, everything is in the wash, (PEEEE PEEE) and I have no energy and no photos and it's raining and maybe this week Small Style is not going to happen. BUT, my girl chose this outfit all on her own. White shirt, rockin socks, cute bow, and big girl underwear, the latter she is like totally stoked about, btw. (Aside: let's talk about the fact that my child and I spend about 10 minutes straight yesterday going over her very astute observation that SHE was wearing underwear and I was wearing underwear TOO and let's just pull down our pants one more time to be sure that we are indeed BOTH wearing big girl underwear and doesn't that just blow the mind?!?!?!??!!!! Also, we had to do a lot of admiring ourselves in the mirror with big girl underwear on.)

Basically my kid loves underware, but peeing in the potty, not so much. You can read all about that here. Where you'll also find details about my FIRST EVER GIVEAWAY wherein I gain validation as a grown up big kid blogger. Look at my grown up big kid blogger underpants, everyone!!)

Small Style Potty Style

Anyway, potty training. Here's what is appropriate, fashion-wise: Long sleeved shirt. Loose fitting. You want to be compensating for body heat lost to the bare bottom and bare legs, so keep those arms covered, mamas!. Socks (well, better baby legs, because we did have an incident involving wet footprints all over the hallway but don't tell my husband because he might have a germaphobic break and insist on bathroom slippers for all everywhere). Finally, a bow, because, people, we might be potty training, but we still need to look cute.

{Yes, this shirt was covered in pen marks and random black smudges five minutes after these photos were taken, thanks for asing. Also this outift lasted about 30 minutes total. See above mentioned laudry pile which is slowly smothering me, that is all the end.}

Okay. That's what's going on here. Please expect continued mention of pee-pee and poo-poo and bum-bums and OMG PLEASE SOMEONE COMMIT ME; A MENTAL INSTITUTION SOUNDS PRETTY GOOD RIGHT ABOUT NOW WHERE THERE IS NO PEE ON THE FLOOR AND I DO NOT HAVE TO MAKE DINNER.


Also, everything is peachy.  

The Chef has a day off tomorrow. Praise be.

Stella Wore:

Top & Socks: Polarn O. Pyret

Pants: NONE

Bow: Adorn Me Girl

And remember, if you want to hear more about pee-pee and poo-poo, please do check out my superawesomeexcitingforme giveaway.


Stella says CHEESE and THANKS!


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The Internet Ate My Homework and Other Obnoxious Tales of Blogger Woe

So, you know when you take a week off from your blog and then try to make a triumphant return to regularly scheduled posting with a (half-assed) superawesome links post, and even though it was half-assed, there were a few true gems in with the rough, and then you're like, oh, I'm going to be proactive and do this ahead and then schedule it and stuff, and then you take no notice of the error screen in Chrome when you open your laptop and then aren't really that bothered when you realize that the post hasn't gone up yet, and so you decide to delete all your links (even the gems) and clean up your bookmarks only to discover that your post and those gems are now lost forever to the sands of digital time. Arg. And also, eff you, technology.

So, no links for you, internet. No links for you. And there were some good ones, too. LIke images of levitation. And amazing yellow shoes that I love. And pretty, pretty necklaces. Okay, well, here are the necklaces, but only because I like their creator so much. And also, they're pretty.

But anyway, instead, I offer you a glimpse of what I was up to last week. 


Remember this guy? Well, he was in my house! Eating my carrots! Snuggling my face! And I practically adopted him. Because, CHEEEEEEEKS! OMG.

We were hanging out with him and his Mommy who is really, really wonderful, doing such fun and exciting things like visiting shrines, and playing with mice, and eating noodles, beaching, stroller derbies, and playing wild rumpus time. So, really, no time for blogging. 





And now, my Mum is here. So prepare for further posts void of insight but full of nonsensical ramblings and second-rate photography. And if that's yoru bag, well, why not send us a vote on the ol' Top Baby Blogs. We'd love us some of that.



Click To Vote For Us @ Top Baby Blogs Directory!

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For My Dad

Image credit.

Me: Stella, do you know who is coming to our house? Abio and Abia!

Stella: A-BU-ya!

Me: That's right, Abia!

Stella: A-BEE-ya.

Me: Abia.

Stella: Abia. Abia. Abia. Appy.

Me: I'm happy too. Do you know who else is coming? Nanny!

Stella: Papa?

Me: No, sweetie, Papa is staying at home with the dogs. Just Nanny. 

Stella: Papa?

Me: Nanny. Can you say Nanny?

Stella: Ashi!

Me: Nannnn-NNNNY

Stella: Ahhhh-SHI

Me: Nanny

Stella: Ashi!

Me: Yes, I know you can say ashi. Can you say, "NANNY?"

Stella: Papa? Papa. Papa. PAPA!!!



So, Dad, I guess you'd better find a dog sitter.



Click To Vote For Us @ Top Baby Blogs Directory!

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One Year of Small Style

Fifty-two weeks of stylish babies is quite an accomplishment, yay Morgan!

I joined Small Style on, like, week two. I guess you could say that I'm a Small Style pioneer. But pioneer doesn't sound very stylish. An archetypal Small Stylist? An autochthonous Small Styler? (Oh geezus! Someone take this thesaurus away from me.) Point being that I've been Small Styling for a hella long time, and it has been simply wonderful. I've met some fab Internet friends (and in Japan, where my dearth of real life friends is wide and heavy, this has been a gift) and I've simply adored watching everyone's babies grow up on my screen. Thanks, Morgan. It's been a great year. 

So in honour of this monumental occasion, I think that it's appropriate to give you the first ever DUO Small Style. Two Small Style participants united in one place.


So without further ado, take it away, Jackson and Stella.

Oh haiiiii babies, you giggly things!

Alright. So, truth time: as with most things baby, this photo shoot didn't go as planned. We set the kids up, right before bedtime in front of bright lights and flashy cameras (because BTW Emily is a grown-up photog with big kid toys like studio lights and stuff). There are, consequentially very few shots with both kids looking cute. And so, naturally, because I'm such a great friend, with the exception of the picture above, I selected only the pictures in which my kid looks good. Sorry Jackson. {Blur}.


Hey, hold on a sec, lady, there are shoes that need nomming. So, what the what? Sit down.


Here, let me ton ton ton you back. With all my strength.

HEY! I'm ton ton tonning* you my hardest! You'd better appreciate my efforts, SIR!

Now, before we depart, let's just talk for a moment how Mr. J is about the cutest, and best baby in the history of babies. Adorable, chubby, cheeks! and smiles! and shrieks! and nom nom nom, I eat feet. Oh, and the kid takes naps. I practically adopted him while we were staying at Emily's house. He worked some major magic with his giggles and coos and zzzzzs and went a long way to curing my Baby Number Two fears. 

And StellaBella was all patience, kindness, ton ton tons, and hugs. Toy snatching was minimal. Baby smacking non-existent. Jealousy was indictable. My girl. Seriously. The best. 


Stella Wore:

Sweater: Joe Fresh (I suppose that for this special occasion, I could have busted out something great, but, well, this old stand-by is much loved.)

Top: Baby Gap

Shorts: Baby Gap

Tights: Hippie Fairydust Grocery Store

Shoes: See Kai Run

*Editor's Note: ton ton tonning is the gerund of the verb ton ton ton, a commonly practiced Japanese method of soothing little babies whereby the caregiver pats the baby with the rhythm of a beating heart on the chest. 


Oh, PS. I could totally use a vote or a billion on Top Baby Blogs. The Great Fire Wall prevented me from posting. And thereby soliciting votes. And obviously this is a great tragedy and I must mobalize my interwebular friends to rectify this situation.

Click To Vote For Us @ Top Baby Blogs Directory!

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Stella and I have returned from behind the Wall of Great Fire, back to the land where Gbps are plentiful and speedy and Twitter, Facebook, and blogs flow freely. And while we are both so happy to be back home, not least because we get to see Mr. Chef and the fur boyz, I'm having a major vacation hangover. I had, like, the best time in the history of times in China. And now I'll all like, oh, wait a minute. Real life that's not filled with friends and wine and yum cha, nor does it boast built-in babysitters or Sichuan pepper, vibrant markets, near camera thefts, train rides, pigs penises, insane taxi drivers, or lunch in the clouds. Real is full of dishes, and laundry. It's quiet, boring and clean. Real life can, therefore, shut the front door.


I'll tell you all about everything after a good night's sleep. But in the meantime, let's use pictures to pretend that we're time traveling back in history to a mythical land of free and unencumbered Chinese Internet, and I'll say, ni hao from Beijing.



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I'm behind the Great Fire Wall. And the powers that be have decreed that my random ramblings and pictures of my dissident child are too sensitive for the eyes of decent Chinese people. So, basically....there will be a whole lot of silence going on up in here until I'm back on the other side.


Until then, wish me luck as I descend the length of half the country in a train with my one-year-old, about 100 kg of luggage, and all the goats and chickens.



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