Tiny Human Blog: The other blog

I've started writing a little more about tiny human things. They are not for the faint of heart (the tiny humans, or the blog topics).

If you want to check it out- its located here: http://oklahomama.blogspot.com/.

I'll probably write on both blogs occasionally, so if you're missing me it may behoove you to drop by over there and see what incredibly embarrassing story I'm sharing next!

Tiny Human Blog: I'm Baaaaaaaaack

Did you miss me? I know, I know. It has been a looooong time since my last post. Long time. Like almost 6 months of a long time.

Allow me to address your questions in order:

Yes! We had the tiny human. She is fantastic and perfect and all the wonderful things. She is 4.5 months old and just a little ball of miracle.

We are doing well! Lots to learn (which changes every day by the way) but we are getting the hang of it. She likes to change the game just as we start to get a handle on things- but that's how we know she's our kid.

Nope... probably not. I probably won't post super regularly. I might... but I might not. I'm enjoying a little more freedom in my life than in the past. Having the shop closed down has allowed me to really engage as a parent and I like that flexibility. I'll post sometimes. Maybe more than sometimes. We will see!

How's that book coming? I am currently waiting on an agent who has requested my full manuscript. I'm trying hard not to geek out about it, but this agent is pretty cool. As in, we would be friends if she didn't live 7 states away cool. I'm working hard not to obsess... though I may be stalking her twitter feed with the ferocity of a very hungry caterpillar.

Why'd you come back? If I'm not planning to post constantly... then what am I doing teasing you with the occasional drive by? I don't know. I was missing writing something other than novel number 2, and as I learn more/drown daily in this new parent stuff, I thought maybe writing about it could help other learners/drowners in the baby world.

So... this is going to be a baby blog now? Make up your MIND woman. I know- this blog has definitely run the gambit of topics. Remember when we started and I was planning my wedding? And totally photo stalking my family (which is why I deactivated the old blog, btw). And then came the Etsy shop, and lots of travel... and then I started talking more business and writing, and then started posting about the tiny human. I really don't know what the blog will be about. I do have some tiny human info that I'm anxious to share with any mamas out there, but I hope to have info about writing to share (cross your fingers, everyone) and just general life and things. Then again... I could also go underground for another 6 months if I see my shadow... so... it may not be an issue.

Who Will I Be Now?

Something about nearing the end of pregnancy is filling my head with increasingly random thoughts. Some of these are what you would expect- wonderments about baby girl's hair color, and whether or not our birthday class instructor actually meant it when she said we should all start toting around puppy pee pads at 34 weeks, to protect whatever vehicle or chair we are sitting in... just in case. Other thoughts, however, are of a more abstract variety.

I recently closed down the Etsy shop in preparation for baby Brown's arrival. I wasn't sure how to feel about it- other than confused. That shop has been my bread and butter, my hobby and my passion for the last 4 years, and stepping back felt completely bizarre. Necessary, but bizarre. Suddenly, I am no longer, "the artist, owner of B is for Brown, purveyor of funky wedding paper goods." I'm just me.

I thought I would be hard pressed to fill my time, but I was quite incorrect about that. There are plenty of last minute things to tackle, lists to make, meals to freeze, a puppy to walk and (ahem) never ending manuscript edits to complete, queries to write and blogs to read, searching for advice for new writers. While these tasks are very distracting and fruitful, they don't leave me with much in the way of a moniker on a personal level. At least, not the way that being a business owner did.

You see, I'm stuck in the land of in-betweens. I'm not a designer (or at least not an active one), but I'm also not fully a mom yet (or at least the kind with a kid on the outside). I'm not a writer (or at least not the published kind), but that's what I want to be. I am... Not at all sure how to decide what I am. Or who I'll be tomorrow. Or in (excuse me while I completely panic) 37 days when this kid is due to come out and change absolutely everything.

Who will I be now?

That thought is either terrifying or completely liberating. Probably both.

 Who will I be now?

Ps- You made it through a very wordy post. Here's a belly photo for your trouble:

Cheesy Metaphor

There are certain things in life that only come with experience. We learn, personality traits are tempered, our field of vision expands to include a more complete picture... all of these things require time.

I sort of hate that.

Its not that I doubt the validity of the idea that we grow wiser as we get older, but I don't like the idea of passively waiting for a wiser version of myself to emerge. She will, I'm sure, and will likely not do things like impulse buying sparkly black heels even though she only ever wears flats. But what am I to do with myself in the meantime?

I've been thinking about this as it relates to writing. I'm a young writer. All of my skills in that regard need tweaking and perfecting and polishing; and some need downright maturing. I'm like a cheese. I'm good now, but I might be better later. I don't want to rush out into the world incomplete and packaged in a flat plastic that is impossible to remove, but I don't want to wait around to become a tasty gouda, and miss my cheddar years.

Is anyone else confused by where I just took this metaphor? Too cheesy?

I know so little of what there is to know in the world. I've glimpsed the corner of writing, seen the beginnings of marriage, seen the briefest sliver of the design world. I feel like I know less about myself and my world that I did ten years ago, but I'll chalk that up to the intoxicating knowledge that accompanies teenager-dom.

I have no doubt that if I continue to practice the art of writing, that I will improve. Armed with this knowledge, it is severely tempting to save up all of my 'good ideas' for when the wiser, hopefully more ravishing, version of myself appears through the ethereal fog of my future. I don't want to waste a gouda idea (haha! That wasn't even intentional) on a cheddar set of skills.

Its very easy for me to be wrapped up in what I don't know. In how little experience I have, or, how much more experience everyone else seems to have. Every time I visit a writing blog, I learn something new about the writing process or publishing process that is absolutely daunting. I see all of the fancy cheese at the table, and I start to wonder if cheddar will be enough. Maybe I should wait until I'm a little more rounded, a little more seasoned, to really dig in and take my shot.

And then I think... naw.

I've always liked cheddar the best anyway. I don't wear high heels, half of my wardrobe is flannel, I jump into things with both feet, and that's how I learn. Give me a cheddar life. And later on, maybe I'll mature into one of those cheeses that come in the wax that I'm never sure if I'm supposed to eat or not. But in the meantime, I'll celebrate my cheddar-hood.

Flash Fiction Challenge: Random Flickr Photo Challenge

I've never done a flash fiction challenge before. But this year I'm not just embracing writing, I'm giving it a full body tackle, so I've decided to do some of the scary things. Like this. The challenge was to write 1,000 words based on a random photo generated by the handy dandy link provided.

The challenge was the brain child of Chuck Wendig, who provides excellent mental exercises that stretch all the best mind muscles.

My photo, by the lovely and talented Joe Branco (no, I don't know him, but I'm sure he is)

https://www.flickr.com/photos/joebranco/24010620650/

My 954 words:

Bird Watching

He stares at me with his beady eye and cocks his head to the side. He looks smug. Like he’s just told himself a joke and I don’t get to know the punch line. I play nice, because I’ve seen the Hitchcock movie, and I’d rather not come down on the wrong side of the line, in the event that a feathery revolution takes place.

“Hello,” I tell him, peering past my computer screen. He doesn’t respond. Thank goodness.

Instead, he rolls his neck and surveys me with the other eye, claws still poking through the window screen. He chirps once and flies away, off to poke his beak into someone else’s business. Finally. Now I can get some work done.

When he arrives the following day, I do a quick Google search and try to determine what he might eat. Apparently, his diet consists of fruits, nuts, frogs, small birds, eggs and insects. And acorns, which the screen tells me is his favorite. I survey my pantry, which has two potatoes that are growing legs and probably plotting an escape, one small bin of oatmeal, and three half eaten boxes of cereal. No acorns.

I eventually decide that dried cranberries are the best I can do, so I squeak open the front door and litter the stoop with the crimson wrinkly berries. I don’t much like them, but in comparison to caterpillars they might not be half bad.

He isn’t amused.

The day after my peace offering, he announces his presence by ramming his beak full force into the glass of my window. I slosh coffee down my front, and run to the window to make sure he isn’t bleeding a halo onto the cement. He sits in a low tree branch and glares at me.

           

“It’s not my fault,” I remind him. “I didn’t put the window there.” He doesn’t respond, though I half expect to receive a literal ‘flipping of the bird.’ He flaps away, leaving the cranberries untouched.

Halfway through my third cup of coffee, or really, second since I’m wearing the better part of my first, he reappears in a dizzying haze of feathers. He throws himself against the window at full speed, and when his super-bird powers don’t kick in, he contents himself to peck at the window instead. Apparently he believes the adage about slow and steady… and has decided that if he must disassemble my window one molecule at a time, he is contented to do so.

After three days of his determined attention, I’ve decided that he must think that his reflection is a lovely ladybird, and be attempting to woo her. I’m not 100% sure which part of the eternal pecking would appeal to a ladybird, but I also don’t like to eat acorns. So what do I know about bird love.

I turn to the Internet, and spend an hour parsing methods of convincing birds to leave you alone. I call my husband over lunch and beg his opinion.

            

“It says to put mesh over the windows,” I tell him as I finally throw away my many-legged potatoes. “Or soap. Putting soap on the windows makes the reflection go away. Do you think I should try that?”

           

“I think you should move the bird house,” he tells me. “And if that doesn’t work… I’ll see what I can do.”

           

“You can’t hurt him,” I plead. “It isn’t his fault. He’s in love.” My husband doesn’t argue. Because he’s been married to me for long enough to know a lost cause when he sees one.

           

I return to the Internet. And see a man who calls himself “herekittykitty19” has taped a photo of his cat to his window to scare the birds away. “Works like a charm,” he claims.

I don’t have a cat. I have a dog that thinks it’s a cat, and who can’t even scare the turtles out of the yard.

“I’m more cat that you are,” I tell her as she drapes herself across my feet. Speaking of…

One hour later, every window in my house is plastered in photos of me. Making a snarling cat face, with one ‘paw’ in the air. Because cats are sassy. and I have a diagnosable plethora of self esteem.

When my husband comes home, he finds me in the kitchen. Cooking, but not the potatoes with the legs.

“What did you do today?” he asks, leaning against the counter in front of the only drawer that I need to get anything out of.

“Just worked,” I tell him.

“And the photos are…” he fishes. 

“To keep the bird away!” I answer enthusiastically.

“Of course they are,” he nods before leaving the room, probably to lie down and reexamine his life priorities.

The photos work spectacularly for the first couple of days. The bird stays away. I can work in peace. The postman seemed a little startled, but he got used to them by the third time he came by. All is right with the world.

Until the bird decided that he wasn’t scare of sassy-cat faces made by annoyed looking women. And decided he ought to just peck around it. I leave the photos up anyway, because apathy is real and I didn’t want to have tape marks on my windows.

On the fifth day, I decide this is what slipping into insanity must feel like.

On the seventh day, I debate buying a bird trap.

On the twelfth day, I debate making a bird trap.

On the fifteenth day, I debate wearing noise canceling headphones for the rest of my life.

And then, on the twentieth day, I finally take the birdhouse down. And sneakily put it next to the neighbor’s house.

2016, Year of the...

I can't believe that its 2016. I don't know why, but something about just looking at the number 2016 sends me into a spiral of panic. Its 2016. It has been 10 years since high school. Its 2016. We're now closer to 2020 than we are to 2010. 2-0-1-6. If I could type those numbers as capitals, I would. Its 2016.

If I think about it too much, I start hyperventilating a little bit, which either has to do with the new year, or the fact that I have neglected to dust since early December. Probably both.

Its 2016.

That's ten years since I graduated high school. And moved to Oklahoma. Little did I know that I wouldn't ever manage to quite escape Oklahoma.

Nine years since I first dated the smartest.

Eight years since I changed my major from English Ed to Graphic Design, despite numerous people informing me that I didn't have the appropriate artistic talent to do so.

Seven years since realizing that I couldn't hack it in the corporate design world. I wasn't good at marketing products. I was good at making people happy.

Six years since I graduated college. And entered the work force while living in a dingy apartment under a guy who had one man raves every night for six months.

Five years since I made the first design that I would sell in the shop. In the midst of planning our wedding, I designed our vows. They would be the bedrock for the shop when it opened.

Four years and four months(ish) since the smartest and I said "I do".
Four years and three months since I opened the shop, at the urging of the people who know me best.

Four years since I quit my job to design full time. How lucky am I? Infinitely lucky.

Three years (well, a little over three years) since the puppy came home with us.

Two years since I listed my first product that would top Google Image search and Pinterest search results.

One year since I decided to give writing a rest

And 6 months since I decided that writing had been rested enough, and I decided to conquer one of the pieces of my bucket list.

Its 2016.

And I've gotta tell you guys... I might be a little panicked when I see those numbers on the calendar that hangs by my desk. But this year feels like it's going to be a good one. Provided that I remember to dust this week, and stop hyperventilating.

There Has Been a Disturbance...

That tremor in the air that you just felt? That was the blog slowly creaking its way back to life after more than a year of silence. The occasion? The opportunity for a really fantastic Star Wars pun. And a little hankering in the back of my mind that it might be fun to blog again.

I make you no promises.

Firstly, I should probably address why the blogging stopped in the first place. To put a not-too-sharp point on it... I stopped blogging because I felt like it. Life was hectic, I had a plate full of other things to attend to, and I frankly just needed a break. I think that stepping back from things when necessary is one of the harder adult-lessons that I'm learning. Well, that one, and garage door maintenance. Which I didn't even know was a thing until recently.

Life isn't really any less hectic at present, but I have been writing lately. A lot. And the more I write, the more I want to write. Ergo... I may be dropping by here, periodically, when I have something to say. Or nothing to say, and just want to test the bounds of your attention span.

Either way, I'll be back. And if you didn't read that in the Terminator voice... please commence self flagellation. Because you've gotta add a little terminator in your life.

The Learning Curve

You guys want to see something humorous? I was organizing some files the other day, and came across some of the early illustrations I did when I was just opening the shop (3 years ago- can you believe it?!). I thought it would be fun to see how my illustrations have progressed in the last couple of years, so I give you "Then and Now: The Illustrated Version".

Ps. Sorry for the radio silence. There's a good reason. Which I will share with you next week. And no, that reason is not a mini-smartest/artist. Just in case you were wondering.

B is for Bon Voyage: The Oregon Coast (part 2)

The artist clan spent Thursday taking Portland by storm. And by storm I actually mean by lightrail. We spent the day poking around bookstores and topped the day off with a visit to one of my top 10 favorite stores... IKEA! In case you were wondering... I AM the annoying person in the family who routinely shrieks "Stop! We have to take a photo" while the rest of the artist clan very sweetly humors me. Fortunately for the smartest... we had very little available suitcase space. Which limited my purchases to some moose shaped cookie cutters, some measuring spoons and a couple of cutting boards.

 

The smartest and I have been blessed with an exceedingly large family. In addition to having many members, all of whom we are inordinately fond of, it spreads across the country in every direction. Said spread-out-ness sometimes means that we don't get to see everyone as often as we would like, but it makes the moments we do have that much more precious. Mama artist was sweet enough to supply me with a couple photos of the artist clan that assembled to dig their toes in the last week:

 

Painting and Chocolates

I'm (still) having an existential crisis. So instead of making important notations regarding life, I am reading young adult fiction, trying my hand at painting bears, and eating chocolates.

Though the painting isn't done… the box of chocolates certainly is. Score one for the artist and her now tight-fitting jeans. Don't pretend like you aren't extremely impressed.

Ghosts of Februarys Past

Sometimes I use my blog to stalk myself. There is something sort of enjoyable but simultaneously humiliating about being able to discover exactly what I was doing/saying/eating/creating in the past- sort of like when I read poems that I wrote when I was in high school (the best friend knows what I'm talking about- it was bad ya'll). So, I thought it would be fun to take a little peek into the past, and here's what I found:

In 2013, I was in full Valentines day swing, posting about Valentines day:
http://lovebisforbrown.blogspot.com/2013/02/heartsy-things.html

In 2012, I was between a weekend in which the smartest and I shopped for running shoes (who's not sorry that the weekend wrap-ups ceased shortly there after): http://www.thesmartestandhisartist.blogspot.com/2012/02/weekend-wrap-up_12.html
and my favorite blog post of all time- the pink jeans post (located here)

In 2011, I was making printable coffee sleeves. And making (what I still think are very funny but are actually probably lame) Star Wars references: http://www.thesmartestandhisartist.blogspot.com/2011/02/feature-friday-bean-me-up-scotty.html

So there you have it. A complete history of the last 3 years of my blog-hood. I feel both informed, and a smidge violated. What were you up to today last year?

Variations of "Bach"

That's right- I'm feeling a little punny today as I start my Wednesday with a cupboard full of coffee.

One of my favorite things about my job is how different each bride is. I love getting to infuse the different personalities into invitations and programs and see where the designs end up. Here are 3 examples of the same invitation package that have been customized for 3 different amazing brides.

Printable Table Numbers

Whilst I was traipsing around the coast- a design project that I did for Intimate Weddings.com went live. We did a series of floral printable table numbers, which was SUPER fun. They printed an example and snapped some photos- and the numbers look absolutely gorgeous! Check it out here.

I DO exist. Mostly.

Sorry about the radio silence you guys. I've been twirling around away from the office for a bit- and promise to do a recap of our adventures soon. It involves things that glow in the dark and pirates. And lots of ocean water. In the meantime... here's a little peek at where I've been the last couple weeks:

New Intimate Wedding Post

While in the process of writing this post... I fell in love with Vancouver. It is so gorgeous there, I can't even handle it. Consider it officially added to my "must see" list. 

Check out the post here. 

Photo here. 

5 most excellent things

Today's inspiration brought to you by: my utter inability to stay focused without my morning coffee.

Princess Comforter 

Signature Necklaces 

Gorgeous Accordion Invitation 

Easy Summer Craft 

"Pie" Cupcakes 

We Walk in Fields of Gold (spraypaint)

After last week's big wall reveal, I thought it was high time for me to give you the lowdown on some of my little golden projects. Apparently, in the artist household, all you really need to decorate your walls is a can of gold spray paint and anything that will stay still long enough for me to catch it.

Here it is- the lamest easiest tutorial ever:

1). Find some stuff (I used plastic animals and some fake-o flowers from the dollar store)
2). Hot glue it to a canvas (I actually sprayed the animals first, then glued them, but did the glue then spray method on the flowers)
3). Spray. In a ventilated area. Several Coats.

Go forth, faithful readers, and spraypaint your world. Then report back to me so I can see all of your spraypainty goodness.

New Blogging Gig: Intimate Weddings

Hey guys! Did I tell you that I'm doing a touch of blogging for the very talented Intimate Weddings website? I have a couple posts up at the moment, if you're morning my lack of posting this week (because, you know, your world definitely revolves around my writing) drop by the get your fix!

10 Ways to Make your Wedding Fun

$2,500 at Home Wedding 

Welcome!

Hey Guys!
Thanks for making the trip to the new blog! It being a brand new year and all, I decided this would be the perfect time to make a new bloggy home for myself. From now on, the adventures of the smartest and the artist will be catalogued here... along with business adventures, puppy disasters and the occasional successful DIY project. The old blog can be accessed at any time via the "archives" tab at the top of the page.

Why a new blog?
I switched over for a couple of reasons. Reason 1: I ran out of photos space, due to my propensity to over-document the children in my extended family. Though there are ways to get around running out of photo space... it seemed much easier to start from scratch. Reason 2: I have 5 email accounts, all of which are linked together and funneled into one location. Unfortunately, my old blog was set up under a different email address, which led to a good deal of signing in and out, and missing messages that came in during blog editing.


Love, 

Ps: A reward for your tracking me down on this fine Monday: a puppy that smiles