ATTACK OF THE KILLER MOMOS

Lately, I have been furiously sewing sock monkeys.  My daughter chose a pink Paul Frank sock monkey to be her favorite buddy shortly after she got him for her first birthday.  She named him ‘Momo’, her word for monkey.  Her little brother’s bedtime buddy is a red version of his older sisters.   There is a deflated blue momo that kind of floats around the house, standing in for any momo that is lost at the time.  We call them all “Momo”.

I have sewed this faded pink monkey back together too many times, it is obvious that his time is running out.  As a former girl scout, I believe in always being prepared and I took the time to educate myself  on the art of momo creation.  Here is the LINK to the instructions I liked best.  The author is funny and forgiving.  I highly recommend you make a sock monkey, and that you use these directions.  I was amazed with how simple it was, I was even able to tweak the pattern to get a replica of momo.  I knocked out a decent  momo in a day.  My mothers old socks became the momo who lives on my bed.  My honey and I like to leave him in funny poses and places for each other to find.  Oh that momo, we say.

That’s when it happened.  We got momo fever.  The kids and I.  They were so amazed to see this momo come to life!  I'm pretty sure they thought I was god for that day, since I was able to create a momo seemingly out of thin air.  So I started digging around my sock drawer and… nothing.  I don’t deserve to be called a pack rat anymore, not with the paltry selection of boring socks in my sock drawer.  Geez, what happened to all my mismatched socks!  I BOUGHT socks soley for the purpose of creating more momos.  These dudes take me hours to make.  I like to make them long and skinny, like the original pink momo that was the inspiration for them all.  I want each to be perfect.  And for what?  For who?  Besides the novelty of finding my 3 year old up at midnight, having a tea party with a gaggle of faceless sock monkeys, what's the purpose?

Maybe I am doing something good.  Momos make my kids REALLY happy.  I have to admit they make me happy too.  They’re just so goofy.  Maybe other kids need momos in their lives too.  I enjoy making them, although they do take way too long to make.  I’ve fantasized about sending hundreds of momos to hospitals, handing them out to the homeless dudes holding up signs at shopping center exits, to anyone who looked like they needed a friend.  I could send momos to starving children in third world countries, to spoiled rich kids who need a simple toy to keep them grounded.  Unfortunately I currently have a day job (mother) and even if I didn’t I don’t think I could make enough momos to heal the world.  Momos are good, but they arent THAT good.  I mean, I've never seen a momo working to cure AIDS or create clean drinking water.

Next best thing, I suppose, momos are now for sale.  I'll be at the craft fair at the Elks Lodge in Sacramento tomorrow.  I just found out about it, gosh good think I just keep 10 or so momos on hand.  You know, just in case.  I wish there was a huge demand for custom momos.  I am a freakin momo master.  I guess what ever doesn't sell will get to attend a few more tea parties with my daughter and the OG momo.

Guess what everyones getting for Christmas?

Mommy Blog, Be Damned!

This is my craft blog.  Its my serious, big girl, little jellyfish blog.  What is all this mommy shit doing on here?  Oh, that’s right.  I have kids.   Wonderful and frustrating kids.  Wonderful on the mommy side, frustrating on the craft side.  Kids and crafts mix very well, but kids and mamas and crafts… not so well.  All I want to do is make my own pipe cleaner puppet but Maddy will want me to break out the glitter.  Then the paint.  When we do art together, I'm on clean up detail.  AND THAT’S FINE.  But after hours, or when I manage to sneak away to *gasp* embroider a tea towel or maybe sew a sock monkey or two (just who do I think I am!) I am lost in the non-mama part of me.  I leave little pockets of grown up craft projects hidden around the house.  Shoe boxes are my best friends, they are the perfect size.  One is a sock monkey kit, and it contains a few momos in various stages of creation.  If I have 10 minutes, I can attatch an arm.  Another box is for jewelry.  If I don’t take a few minutes out of the day for my artistic self, I am not a fun person to be around.  And if I literally only have a few minutes, its nice to be able to just pull a box down from behind some books on the bookself and slip away to craft land with out having to set up or really think at all.  But then I go back to reality and my day job, which is ‘Mama’.  I suppose its only natural that I am blurring the lines on this blog.  Mommy and craft.  Its not a crafty mama blog.  Though I like the term ‘crafty mama’.

So this is the birth of my ‘mommy blog’.  I hate the term.  I’ve heard it before.  But my kids say funny shit sometimes and I want to share it with the world.  Maddy asked me yesterday if my ‘tummy’ was getting big because there was a baby inside me.  I seriously heard that "dun dun DUN!!!" from horror movies.  She could have jinxed me!  Then she clarified and asked if it was the milk inside my ‘tummies’ that was making them bigger, you know, for the new baby.  OH, that’s right, she calls boobs ‘tummies’.  After I said no, no babies, we have a nice family and my ‘tummies’ are full of milk for Charlie, not any new additions to our family, she still seemed skeptical.  She then asked if my ‘tummies’ were full of coffee.  “Coffee or milk, mama”.  She asked, multiple times.  Thankfully we were in the car and she soon fell asleep.  Shes a funny one.

So from now on I pledge to keep my craft life and mommy life separate, at least on the this blog.  Mostly separate anyways.  Just don’t call it a mommy blog.

You can read more about my hilariously confused children by subscribing to my new blog, the link is under, well... links.