Monday, July 16, 2007
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Friday, July 06, 2007
New Website
My new website just went live. Tell me what you think, if you don't mind. www.christinamallet.com
Friday, June 29, 2007
Blog!
Blog, blog blog blog blog blog blog.
blog?
Blog!
"Blog!"
In other news:
The house is close-ish to being done. After more than two months of remodeling we're on the last stretch, painting and floors.
Fact: The house was built in 1905.
Fact:Apparently it's common to find things in the walls of old homes, like skeletons, which is exactly what we found.
Not really.
However, they (contractor & his people) found a pair of old boots, a lining for a hat, and a tube top sort of bra in the wall. All of which has got to be 100 years old.
There are exactly 2 toilets and 3 pedestal sinks in front of our garage in a large crate, which I'm told weighs 600 lbs.
Why I had them delivered here, when they are for the other house? well, that's beyond me.
I'm shooting a wedding this weekend.
The end.
blog?
Blog!
"Blog!"
In other news:
The house is close-ish to being done. After more than two months of remodeling we're on the last stretch, painting and floors.
Fact: The house was built in 1905.
Fact:Apparently it's common to find things in the walls of old homes, like skeletons, which is exactly what we found.
Not really.
However, they (contractor & his people) found a pair of old boots, a lining for a hat, and a tube top sort of bra in the wall. All of which has got to be 100 years old.
There are exactly 2 toilets and 3 pedestal sinks in front of our garage in a large crate, which I'm told weighs 600 lbs.
Why I had them delivered here, when they are for the other house? well, that's beyond me.
I'm shooting a wedding this weekend.
The end.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Confession
Dear Lord of UrbanHip,
I have a confession. Forgive me, for I have sinned. I have broken the UrbanHip commandment to resist the temptation for all things suburban, no matter how convenient they might be.
Will you forgive me? For I am now the not so proud card holder of the scary gym in the suburbs.
I had to do it. I needed to do it. I needed some me time.
Was the fact that I know one of boyboy's caregivers and one was a nice lady from Ghana, who's actually from Alex's dad's tribe, a sign from you?
This sin is my last. I promise to never cross the line again--cul-de-sacs and mini-vans will never tempt me.
I have a confession. Forgive me, for I have sinned. I have broken the UrbanHip commandment to resist the temptation for all things suburban, no matter how convenient they might be.
Will you forgive me? For I am now the not so proud card holder of the scary gym in the suburbs.
I had to do it. I needed to do it. I needed some me time.
Was the fact that I know one of boyboy's caregivers and one was a nice lady from Ghana, who's actually from Alex's dad's tribe, a sign from you?
This sin is my last. I promise to never cross the line again--cul-de-sacs and mini-vans will never tempt me.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Scary Gym Part II
After BoyBoy's meltdown at The Scary Gym I considered switching to their second location, a much larger and fully equipped location, in Bellevue.
It's so huge it quite possibly requires its own hydroelectric dam. This metropolis in the suburbs is complete with, a spa, salon, a botox spa, and super duper daycare that allows you to leave your BoyBoy and go off-site. This seemed like a glorious option given I get 2-3 hours a week of alone time, when Mrs. Doubtfire comes.
Well, it wasn't meant to be. We went there yesterday to sign on the dotted line but I chickened out and decided to stay urban.
I'm left with 2 conclusions.
1. I'm a really amazing and self-less mom because there is no way in hell I'll leave BoyBoy there.
2. I'm incredibly stubborn when it comes to maintaining my urban cool and giving in to suburban conveniences.
The reasons behind my super self-less momitude:
I suffered a bought of post-traumatic-stress upon entering--I went to daycare from 6 weeks on and hated it (Mom, if you're reading this, don't)--everything about this place reminded me of what I hated as a kid, namely:
no natural light,
feeding assembly lines,
and kids were aimlessly spinning in circles with nothing to do.
And for my "keep it cool, keep it urban" reasoning:
The art is horrendous. Imagine commissioning Thomas Kincade and The Happy Painter to paint scenes of a rainbow of people working out, children engaging story time at the daycare, and for a fantasy art experience, a triptych of a gymnast spinning in outer space, an outer space which happens to include Mt. Rainier. This art, hung like masterpieces (I'm talking huge prints), is everywhere.
The carpet is totally Las Vegas casino.
The parking garage is filled with BMWs, Mercedes and Mini-Vans, all of which freaks me out--it's a rich breeder gym.
Their spa is decorated like a Roman Bath, unfortunately minus the vomitorium, and has the following treatments: The Journey to the Fountain of Youth, The Royal Journey, and the Gentleman's Journey.
So, I'm sticking with the big city version of the scary gym which has natural light, views of the city scape, and a very tiny daycare.
It's so huge it quite possibly requires its own hydroelectric dam. This metropolis in the suburbs is complete with, a spa, salon, a botox spa, and super duper daycare that allows you to leave your BoyBoy and go off-site. This seemed like a glorious option given I get 2-3 hours a week of alone time, when Mrs. Doubtfire comes.
Well, it wasn't meant to be. We went there yesterday to sign on the dotted line but I chickened out and decided to stay urban.
I'm left with 2 conclusions.
1. I'm a really amazing and self-less mom because there is no way in hell I'll leave BoyBoy there.
2. I'm incredibly stubborn when it comes to maintaining my urban cool and giving in to suburban conveniences.
The reasons behind my super self-less momitude:
I suffered a bought of post-traumatic-stress upon entering--I went to daycare from 6 weeks on and hated it (Mom, if you're reading this, don't)--everything about this place reminded me of what I hated as a kid, namely:
no natural light,
feeding assembly lines,
and kids were aimlessly spinning in circles with nothing to do.
And for my "keep it cool, keep it urban" reasoning:
The art is horrendous. Imagine commissioning Thomas Kincade and The Happy Painter to paint scenes of a rainbow of people working out, children engaging story time at the daycare, and for a fantasy art experience, a triptych of a gymnast spinning in outer space, an outer space which happens to include Mt. Rainier. This art, hung like masterpieces (I'm talking huge prints), is everywhere.
The carpet is totally Las Vegas casino.
The parking garage is filled with BMWs, Mercedes and Mini-Vans, all of which freaks me out--it's a rich breeder gym.
Their spa is decorated like a Roman Bath, unfortunately minus the vomitorium, and has the following treatments: The Journey to the Fountain of Youth, The Royal Journey, and the Gentleman's Journey.
So, I'm sticking with the big city version of the scary gym which has natural light, views of the city scape, and a very tiny daycare.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Portraits of Hope at SIFF
If you're lucky enough to be going to The Seattle International Film Festival, consider taking in the documentary Portraits of Hope about Soulumination, the foundation I recently became a shooter for.
Portraits of Hope
USA, 2007,
8 Minute Running Time
US Premiere Genres: Documentary, Social Issues
Monday, June 04, 7:00 PM Egyptian Theatre
Lynette Huffman Johnson’s calling is to capture the sweetest moments at the most difficult times, in very touching portraits of children who are dying and their families.
DIRECTOR: Jon Ward
Producer: Jon Ward
Editor: Jon Ward
Screenwriter: Jon Ward
Cinematographer: Jon Ward
Music: Kyle Grimm
Friday, June 01, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Red Tricycle & Me
Check out a photog write up on me at red-tricycle
If you're a Seattle parent, this site is the uber-duberist for all things hip in the breeding world.
If you're a Seattle parent, this site is the uber-duberist for all things hip in the breeding world.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Weighting
So, there's this rumor going around in the breeding world that nursing your young will make the pounds miraculously drop. Sure, this works in the first few weeks and month post delivery but after that, they fail to tell you that women who were thin prior to conceiving are more likely to hold onto 5, 10, even 20 lbs of baby weight. Exhibit one: Me.
I gained 50-55 lbs with Xander. Mind you he was a hefty fellow, weighing in at 9lbs 3 ounces, but I had... well... let's call is xtra, with a lowercase x.
Many many pounds departed, 35 to be exact, by the time Mr. X was 2 months.
The remainder, well, they've refused to leave.
When I say refuse, I mean it.
Case in point: I've paid for 5 weeks of not so great tasting diet food. Stuck to it for 2 weeks (okay, I cheated a wee wee bit..... occasionally (substituting 3 fruits for an evening glass of wine). What do I have? A new scale, to prove the first one wrong, which it turns out was not lying or faulty. After days and days of no more than 1500 calories, my jeans are the same and well, it's just... uhm... kind of depressing.
This is the point in the story where I Google like mad to prove that there's some reason beyond me to blame.
After numerous oracle searches .... Enter: post-partum weight loss... no weight loss breast feeding... weaning and pregnancy weight loss... I've come to learn that my body is likely revolting and storing stores for the drought or more appropriately, the famine.
I'm probably divulging too much, not only boring but too personal, stuff for the internet but this is a public service announcement: 1. don't believe the hype about nursing weight loss 2. if you were thin before hand and haven't lost a portion of the flub, it will/might/should/god please! fall off when you wean the lad or lass, or, at least that's my excuse.
Meanwhile, a giant box of uneaten, not so edible, diet food is waiting for the day the boy is weaned. Or, that's at least what I'd like to think.
I gained 50-55 lbs with Xander. Mind you he was a hefty fellow, weighing in at 9lbs 3 ounces, but I had... well... let's call is xtra, with a lowercase x.
Many many pounds departed, 35 to be exact, by the time Mr. X was 2 months.
The remainder, well, they've refused to leave.
When I say refuse, I mean it.
Case in point: I've paid for 5 weeks of not so great tasting diet food. Stuck to it for 2 weeks (okay, I cheated a wee wee bit..... occasionally (substituting 3 fruits for an evening glass of wine). What do I have? A new scale, to prove the first one wrong, which it turns out was not lying or faulty. After days and days of no more than 1500 calories, my jeans are the same and well, it's just... uhm... kind of depressing.
This is the point in the story where I Google like mad to prove that there's some reason beyond me to blame.
After numerous oracle searches .... Enter: post-partum weight loss... no weight loss breast feeding... weaning and pregnancy weight loss... I've come to learn that my body is likely revolting and storing stores for the drought or more appropriately, the famine.
I'm probably divulging too much, not only boring but too personal, stuff for the internet but this is a public service announcement: 1. don't believe the hype about nursing weight loss 2. if you were thin before hand and haven't lost a portion of the flub, it will/might/should/god please! fall off when you wean the lad or lass, or, at least that's my excuse.
Meanwhile, a giant box of uneaten, not so edible, diet food is waiting for the day the boy is weaned. Or, that's at least what I'd like to think.
The Walking Boy & Belly Dancing Man
Friday, May 18, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Separation Anxiety
Yesterday, I came to realize the power and safety of 'Mother'.
There was a spot in the day care at The Scary Gym so we went for it. Ms. Doubtfire was sick this week so this was my one chance for alone time. Turns out it wasn't meant to be. See, there's this thing we're experiencing called 'separation anxiety'.
After 40 minutes of catching up on my Hollywood smut mags while attempting to sweat, I saw the daycare lady coming my way. If I was a filmmaker and this was my movie, everything would decelerate as a low and slow "NOOOOOOO" bellowed out of me.
Turns out the boy was having an extended meltdown--he'd been at it since I left.
Daycare lady's words "He won't calm down--you need to come now".
This is the part where I started to realize how being a mother is instinctual and hijacks you on all levels when something isn't right. I wanted push day care lady out of my way in true Momma Bear fashion and run to my boy but managed to maintain my cool with a friendly conversation about the weather.
I got to my guy with out hurting anyone in my path and found him indeed out of sorts. He had been crying so long that he had that gaspy hiccup shudder thing going on, which continued for another hour.
Later on, while reading about separation anxiety, my heart hurt, not just for my boy who was so worried I wasn't coming back, but also for all the little people in this world who don't have somebody. I kept imagining all the kids who don't ever experience separation anxiety or who have a never ending version because they don't have a sense of safety with a parent or caregiver.
There was a spot in the day care at The Scary Gym so we went for it. Ms. Doubtfire was sick this week so this was my one chance for alone time. Turns out it wasn't meant to be. See, there's this thing we're experiencing called 'separation anxiety'.
After 40 minutes of catching up on my Hollywood smut mags while attempting to sweat, I saw the daycare lady coming my way. If I was a filmmaker and this was my movie, everything would decelerate as a low and slow "NOOOOOOO" bellowed out of me.
Turns out the boy was having an extended meltdown--he'd been at it since I left.
Daycare lady's words "He won't calm down--you need to come now".
This is the part where I started to realize how being a mother is instinctual and hijacks you on all levels when something isn't right. I wanted push day care lady out of my way in true Momma Bear fashion and run to my boy but managed to maintain my cool with a friendly conversation about the weather.
I got to my guy with out hurting anyone in my path and found him indeed out of sorts. He had been crying so long that he had that gaspy hiccup shudder thing going on, which continued for another hour.
Later on, while reading about separation anxiety, my heart hurt, not just for my boy who was so worried I wasn't coming back, but also for all the little people in this world who don't have somebody. I kept imagining all the kids who don't ever experience separation anxiety or who have a never ending version because they don't have a sense of safety with a parent or caregiver.
Remodeling Shopping List
2 toilets
1 shower faucet
1 kitchen sink
1 kitchen sink faucet
kitchen cabinets and knobs
9 lighting fixtures
1 window
Shopping of this sort... not fun.
1 shower faucet
1 kitchen sink
1 kitchen sink faucet
kitchen cabinets and knobs
9 lighting fixtures
1 window
Shopping of this sort... not fun.
Monday, May 14, 2007
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