DIY Make-Up

I'm really not a big do-it-yourself-er.  I'd like to be, but I don't have the combination of the eye, the patience, and the time at this point in my life.  I'm lucky to get something hung straight on the wall (or hung at all, now that I think of a mirror in the guest room that's been resting against the wall for nearly a year).  Maybe someday I'll branch out.  The title of this post is actually deceiving because I didn't really make my own make-up.  But I did use my old make-up containers to make something for Sara. 

Recently she has been very interested in my make-up and other products.  I gave her a powder brush and mirror to carry around with her, but those items were not satisfactory for long.  After telling myself to quit fighting the fact that my two-and-a-half year old daughter is interested in make-up, I came up with a solution that would satisfy her and also keep me from worrying about finding bits of make-up smashed into the carpet, couches, clothing, and so on.

 I cleaned out two of my old make-up containers, using toothpicks to remove the last traces of blush and eye-shadow.  I then used a variety of nail polish colors to paint the make-up trays, and ...viola: make-up! 

Cheap and easy and a happy girl to boot. Love it!

The Basics

Earlier this evening, as we approached the end of an exhausting week, we opted a low-key family movie night.  I made popcorn the old-fashioned way on the stove.  We gathered on the couch and watched "Mary Poppins" (or, if you ask Sara, "Hary Moppins").  To share such simple pleasures -- especially ones that were part of my own childhood -- with my girl just makes my heart happy.  When everything around us moves so quickly, when we're busy with work and life, and when time goes by faster than we'd like it to, it's nice to be able to slow down and enjoy each other.  Sometimes basic is best.

Brittain Family Idol

Second Day Hair

Every stylist who has ever cut my hair has recommended washing every other day.  I was always hesitant to take such advice due to my fears of oily hair and/or being found out and identified as one with an unwashed mane.  However, recently it was brought to my attention that there is a product that offers the potentially perfect solution: dry shampoo, which allows one to cleanse hair without the whole damaging process of washing and blow-drying daily.  Since my hair is getting longer (and therefore can default into pony-tail mode if all else fails), and since my good hairs days are few and far between as it is, I decided I had nothing to lose by trying out Suave's Dry Shampoo.  (And who doesn't love Suave?  I think their most expensive product may hover around $3.)

On two different occasions this past week, I opted go to work with second day hair via the dry shampoo route.  It was so easy to take a quick shower, skip the blow-dry, style, and go (although the "and go" part is usually a little slow around here ...).  One of the days I curled my hair, and the other day I straightened it.  I obviously haven't totally eliminated the damaging heat routine, but I don't see that happening any time soon - or ever.  Anyway, I was very pleased with the way my hair looked and felt with the dry shampoo.  It maintained most of its body, as well as a fresh, clean smell.  My second day hair didn't feel as soft as my first day hair, but since we tend to have "look, don't touch" policies regarding our hair anyway, it really didn't matter.  Whether you're in a hurry or you just stumble across a morning when you don't have the patience or the energy to engage in your whole routine, I would definitely recommend dry shampoo.  Even if you only use it once in a while, I'd consider it a new staple to keep in your beauty arsenal. 

Book Talk

Our book club pick this month was ROOM by Emma Donoghue. Maybe you haven't read it yet, but you've likely heard of it or seen it on a shelf somewhere. Although the story itself has a little bit of a ripped-from-the-headlines feel (think Jaycee Dugard), the focus is not like that of the media frenzy. Told brilliantly from the point of view of five-year-old Jack, this gripping and heart-wrenching story forces the reader inside the head and heart of the desperate victims. The author's ability to portray life in confinement is impressive and completely believeable (enough to make you feel confined yourself as you sit in the open space of your own home and read), as is her depiction of the real world as seen through the eyes of someone who has only ever known it on TV and through stories.  Your emotions will run the gamut as you read this book, and if you are like me, you'll be glad to get to the end.  Love - in this case, between a mother and her child - conquers all. 

I raided my mom's book shelf when we were in MN, and came home

with a new stack of books to read.  Among my selections was a book called blood orange by Drusilla Campbell.  I picked up this book right after I finished ROOM, and found myself reading about another kidnapping case.  This story really investigates the decisions we make, especially when we make them without thinking of those who may be affected, even inadvertently.  It explores the potential conquences of what happens when we give our decisions merit because we consider them to be necessary for work or life, we deem them okay because nobody will ever know the truth, or we dismiss them as simply inconsequential.  I wasn't super impressed with the quality of writing, but the story itself was engaging.  It's worth reading if you find it at the library or for a good price at Half Price Books (or on your mom's book shelf). 

Also from my mom's shelf (but with my aunt's name written inside, so I

guess it came from her), was Evening at the Argentine Club.  I loved this book and read it in about two days (and, thankfully, it had nothing to do with kidnapping).  Instead, EATAC was, yes - a love story, but more than that, it explored what it is like for immigrants to work to maintain their culutre in a place that either doesn't embrace it or is just indifferent to it altogether.  Further, what happens when the younger generation, young adults who have only ever lived in America, break the mold?  When they don't understand the importance of honoring a land they don't know and the purpose of living by ideals that seem outdated and out of touch?  Victoria is the main character in the book, and many of her conversations with her father made me think of the movie, "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" in the sense that regardless of American values, she was expected to abide by what was appropriate in a place her father left many years ago (and also because some parts were pretty darn funny).  I really enjoyed this book; I thought it was well written.  The author was able to very candidly address the topics at hand.   I found myself appreciating the cultural apects of the story, which tended to be very complicated under the surface (like most of life).

 

I'm fully aware that Memories Before and After The Sound of Music by Agathe von Trapp won't appeal to everyone.  But if the movie defined, in a sense, your childhood as it did Melissa's and mine, you may enjoy this historical look back at the makings of the von Trapp family.  Agathe was the oldest daughter (but not the oldest child, as portrayed in the movie) of Captain von Trapp.  Her memoir encompasses her childhood years through her father's death, during her mid-adulthood, after the family had come to America.  There are a number of pictures and drawings, as well as many defined truths about the von Trapp family.  Although Hollywood took much artistic license in the making of the movie, I think people worldwide will always love and cherish it for what it is.  Agathe's story was incredibly interesting, and solidifies for me my desires to travel around parts of Europe.  I've only ever been to England, but my sister has had the opportunity to take a couple of quick escapades through the areas described in the book.  I hope someday we're able to expose Sara to such rich history.  I guess I should start playing the lottery.

"O Day of days when we can read! The reader and the book, either without the other is naught."

Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Movie Review: "The Help"

Let me give you a brief synopsis of my movie-going experiences in recent history.  During the summer of 2008, Steve and I went to see "The Dark Knight".  Loved it then, love it now.  It was a most excellent choice for movie theater viewing.  In July 2009, we went to see that movie with Maya Rudolph and Jim from "The Office".  I can't remember the name of the movie, but Maya was pregnant in it.  I think they were looking for a home, and I know they used the F-word a lot.  We agreed that it wasn't such a great movie.

And that was the last time I saw a movie in the theater.  No joke.

I love going to the movies, but there's every excuse not to go: it's too expensive, there's nothing we really have to see, what we do want to see is out of the theater before we make it there, we might as well just wait for On Demand ... I could go on and on. For the first time in a long time (obviously), there is a movie in the theaters that I feel I just have to see; waiting for On Demand simply won't do. I'm talking, of course, about "The Help". I mentioned this historical fiction treasure in a post in July 2009 after my book club read it, and before it became the sensation it is today. We have all been anxiously awaiting the movie version for quite some time.  I was excited to see Bryce Dallas Howard as nasty Hilly, the author's cameo as a Junior League member, and to determine whether the movie version was true to the very book that still, after two years, continues to top my list.  And I was also excited to finally use the AMC gift card I'd been carrying around in my wallet for a year and a half. 

We ran into a little snag when we arrived at the theater for the 9:35 am show this morning: the power was out.  The initial plan was to begin the movie whenever they could get the power up and running, but after standing around (outside, in the first rain we've had in months) for about thirty minutes, it was announced that the first showing of all movies would be cancelled for the day.  The staff then handed out vouchers and sent us on our way.  We returned for a 5:30 pm showing, free tickets in hand.

It really goes without saying that the movie was excellent; spot-on.  Of course Hollywood can never fully portray every detail that can be written in a book, but this one got pretty darn close.  Emma Stone was a perfect Skeeter; she came across completely natural and genuine.  And although the movie includes a pretty extensive list of big names, Viola Davis (Tony Award winner) absolutely stole the show as Aibileen, one of the help.  The characters were just as I believed they would be after reading the book, and the story was absolutely as engaging and heart-wrenching on the big screen as it was on the pages: Skeeter, arriving home from college and determined to become a writer, is the first in her hometown of Jackson, Mississippi to question the "rules" that govern the lives of the area socialites and, as a result, their help.  During the turbulent 1960s, Skeeter sets out to give the help a voice.  As Aibileen says, "No one never asked me what it's like to be me."  Skeeter asks difficult questions, knowing that the help may not want to answer and that their white employers may not want to hear the answers.  The truth can hurt, but as Skeeter and the help realize, truth may be the only path to freedom.  And a little truth can turn a lot of heads; there's nothing worse than ignorance. 

"The Help" is just an incredible story.  You'll cry through the book, and you'll cry even more as you see it come to life in the theater.  Read the book first (seeing the movie without it would be an injustice), and then head to the theater.  If you time it right, you might just arrive at the theater during a power outage and earn yourself a free ticket.  But since that's pretty unlikely, I can safely say you won't regret your investment in this film.  The story will stay with you long after you've forgotten about your seven dollars.

Thirty-Two Months

I stopped measuring Sara in months a long time ago.  However, in honor of her 32-month mark today (and just to mix it up a bit), I'm going to share a few of her current one-liners that keep us laughing and loving.

When it's time to take a nap: "I can't take a nap.  It's daytime."  Apparently she's figured out that daytime is for being awake.

When it's time for bed: "Oh, I better go see my _________." (Insert mommy or daddy - whichever one didn't just tell her it's time for bed.)

When I'd like just a little privacy in the bathroom: "Mom, do you have poop or potty?"  "Mom, you better hold onto the sides."  "Good job, Mom!  You did it!"

When we ask her why she did something: "Yeah."

When she's trying to make a point: "But I need it/I need to."  As in, "I need to eat a donut for dinner" and "I need to carry around the broom from the garage inside the house."  She uses need very dramatically and convincingly.

When we make a suggestion that is satisfactory to her: "Well, okay!"

When she's tired in the morning: "Let's just stay in bed."  (Amen to that...)

When we least expect it: "Love you, Mommy/Daddy!"

Hadley Pottery

If there is one type of item that I can say my mom really loves to collect, it's dishes.  Growing up, we had multiple sets of dishes over the years, each set unique and beaming with its own personality.  There were holiday dishes, summer dishes, dishes we had just because my mom saw them on sale and liked them ... you get the picture.   In addition to everyday dishes, Mom still has a wide variety of antique and family heirloom dishes - cups, plates, bowls, you-name-it - decorating her kitchen.   

The dishes I always liked best were the Hadley Pottery dishes, which have been collectibles in Mom's family for many, many years.  Although Mom's maiden name is Hadley and the pottery factory is in Louisville, Kentucky where she was born, I don't believe there are any direct links to the family.  Still, I liked the idea that both Mom and Grandma Lou used the dishes over the years.  It always made me feel like we might have long-lost roots to some world famous aristocrat potter.  I was a kid, okay?

 Sometimes we'd hunt for pieces in antique shops.  I remember one time we found a giant stack of the little green bowls.  A couple of years ago, I expressed an interest to Mom in having some of my own Hadley Pottery.  Grandma Lou sent me a box of items she no longer used, and Mom has surprised me on various occassions with items to add to my collection. 

My current goal is to acquire enough Hadley Pottery dishes that I am able to slowly phase out the generic Pfaltzgraff dishes we've had since our wedding.  No offense to Pfaltzgraff; the dishes have been great, and I have no complaints.  It's just that the Hadley Pottery feels so homey and quaint, not so mass-produced, and really sort of priceless.  And it reminds me of my childhood and my family, and especially of two Hadley women who are priceless to me. 

Autopilot

Sara stayed home from school today with Steve.  He was able to work from home while she took it easy, working to recover from her first case of strep throat.  Her temperature was back to normal and the rash had subsided by the time she woke up this morning, thank goodness.  When I got home, I asked her, "Sara, what did you do today?"  She said, "I watched cartoons with Daddy."  You can imagine her reaction tonight when we asked if she is ready to go back to school tomorrow: "No, stay home with Daddy!"

On my way home from work this evening, even though I knew Sara was already at home with Steve, I nearly turned into her school to pick her up.  I had my blinker on, and I had slowed down for the right-hand turn when it dawned on me that I didn't need to make the stop.  It's amazing how routine can train our brains to do things our bodies don't even realize they are doing.  Do you ever do that, where you get somewhere, and while you know logically how you got there, you don't remember stopping, going, turning, etc.?  Autopilot.

This evening since Sara was feeling a little better, I asked her to help me clean the bathrooms.  She got the toilets since that job didn't involve spraying anything that would end up all over the walls and floor.  Plus, the potty is a pretty big part of her life right now.  I told her to scrub and scrub until the water turned blue and had lots of bubbles in it.  She took her job very seriously, even yelling into the toilets, "Go away poop!"  Anyway, when the bathrooms were clean and it was time to wrap up the job, I thanked Sara for her help and told her we were all done.  Oh. My. Word.  You cannot even begin to imagine the tears that ensued.  Sara was devastated that she had to be done cleaning the toilets.  I had no idea the activity would bring her such joy.  I can only hope she feels so strongly about cleaning the toilets when she's a teenager.  Yeah, right.