#ninangduties

parties. i heart you. themed parties? i live for you.

🙂

ive always loved planning and gathering people to celebrate, but within the past couple years i’ve stepped up my game a little and started getting excited about themed parties.. and as satisfying as facebook is, i just felt a need to document them more..

the latest was my niece’s 3rd birthday – a yo gabba gabba themed party. as mentioned before, yo gabba gabba was #2 on the list of things that have gotten me motivated .. so i think that alone makes it deserving of it’s own blog post.

preparty sweatshop

my elementary photoshop skills put to use haha

jill & nika rolling fondant

4 hours = 6 gabba lantern hahaha thanks jun!

making dj lance rock chocolate covered marshmallows

nika's finished boombox red velvet cake 🙂

4 hours later ... 70 marshmallow pops done !

dj lance rock & his homies for center pieces

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANIE !!

the birthday girl 🙂

anna made homemade favors - animal crackers decorated like boomboxes !

the spread

dj lance rock dunny & boombox pinata

anna doing her martha stuart thing - homemade coloring books !

 

success!!


yup. personalized banner. hahah

$1 popcorn, pail, and mallows..thas wassup

happy birthday lanie!! we ❤ you 🙂


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oh yes i did.

during this past month, it’s been hard to do anything except eat (ha) so it’s really interesting when i actually have motivation to do anything beyond being w my dad and again ..eating.

the two things that have inspired me to get out of my pajamas this month?

::harry potter & yo gabba gabba::

yea, i said it.

i realized that i have turned to children’s fiction many times in the past few years to indulge in a little escapism. with a life and emotional resume that resembles a harry potter novel, escaping is not only fun but necessary. at 11, trauma stunted my growth as a child with wide eyes, and reading children’s lit helps me reclaim, relive, revel in some of that which was lost.

i am at best obsessed with harnessing the simplicity, magic, and humility of childhood.i am not nor ever will be too old to escape into semi realities that the wildly creative imagine for us to enjoy. these joys keep the elation of innovation alive. they hold naivety in a state of wonder. wide eyed and magicked, i can remain in the fantasies that are threatened by reality. i let them transport me to a simpler time, connecting to the parts of me that were unafraid to dream.

i’m sorry but i dont want to ever lose the idealistic child in me. the little left that will push me to make stories with my reveries. that will keep me awestruck by new worlds because i constantly feel myself unwillingly growing up.

so i will hold on for dear life to the wonder that flickers in me. to the things that connect me to innocence.

don’t judge me…. cuz as dianne says, if you you do, “i’ll magic you..”

harry potter forever !!

malandan crew .. thanks jill for watching all 7 movies in 1 week haha

i'm sorry i told you harry was demonic hahahha

tattoo sisters....now we HAVE to be friends forever haha

with our tattoo artist danny...who probably thought these were the dumbest tattoos ever haha

happy harry potter premiere!!

i made butterbeer flavored - snitch looking - cake balls 🙂

there it is .. my ode to harry, nerdiness, and the beauty of childhood. (yes its blurry and yes imma have to get it redone .. fail haha)

so why not, end with a list.

THE TOP 5 THINGS THAT ARE SURPRISINGLY HELLA HARD WHEN LETTING A FINGER TATTOO HEAL

1. Dealing with my bra.

2. Playing with kids at a water park.

3. Eating crab & shrimp.

4. Texting.

5. Going #2 and using my non dominant hand…hahah .. tmi?

my father the cat.

5th life.

bien-elize rOque

You told me to smile when you cried,

To die if you died,

To live and let life.

 

My walls had already fallen at the sound of your voice trembled,

pleading prayers for my soul.

Worried whispers emitted from my core,

surrounding us as we slept in the rainforest.

 

Could you feel each communal connection made between each stroke of my thumb on your chest, holding back my screams to ask you if it was all a dream?

We were stripped to bare silence,

yet I, still saw you, strong.

Bombs explode onto faces in the image of tears,

And days add their presence onto your countenance

But you remain to be all you’ve been.

 

In 5 rounds of the sun,

My world is destroyed and yet you,

my Father abounding in love,

stay beside me,

making sure life does not abandon us.

Your wise eyes steal glances,

remind me that there’s hope on the other side of the horizon.

Your strong stature sits softly,

still singing me to sleep.

            May tomorrow, be a perfect day.

May it bring fun and laughter along the way.

May God bless you, in a special way and may we see each other again.

May we see each other again.

Because you’ve got me writing encrypted with freedom

And I,

I’m telling sweet colored butterflies to tell my mother

That her family will survive.

My father will bring us home.

We will, come home.

*            *            *

Dad, your love is safe,

And I cannot remember a time when your love did not exist.

It is the miracle that synchronizes family with sacred,

holding us in expectation.

 

Your love wraps us in joy.

Pushing us, reminding us to enjoy

the laughter that sits at the bottom of our symphonies.

 

So here we are.

A family cultivated through chaos,

Fighting for a love that secures my future so long as I keep you my standard.

Because you are proof that your will for survival is more powerful than fear.

That the miracles of your mind can and will move mountains with push pins.

That dreams don’t belong in sleep.

 

You are faith personified.

Your stories linger through my heart as your legacy,

Speaking life through epiphanies

I will sit and listen to everything

Let your strength engulf me

Please teach me how to live successfully.

 

Because you are the dream we’ve all secretly wanted.

You are inspiration, laughter, lover, dreamer, music maker, storyteller, brother, husband, friend, father.

And I hope you know,

with every pale moon/new song

b/c you are,

I am.

mody & me

today, my dad cupped my hands together and kissed them. he examined my fingers and nails and i wondered if he was unsure if it was me or if he’s happy he leaves a legacy through them.

today, my dad hugged me and asked to kiss me more times than my happiness could bear.

today, my dad tapped my kindle when i asked if he wanted me to read to him and i tried to swallow my tears so he could hear the story clearly.

today, my dad asked me where we’re going next and if i grabbed his cane for him. (i said thailand.)

today, i again put on as many of my father’s clothes as i could to use for my pajamas. i resist the urge to wear the tshirt i bought him for father’s day and it sits, staring at me, unused since its giving. maybe he’ll wear it one day. maybe i wear his clothes to give voice to his art. maybe it keeps him close to me.

today, i hang on to every tiny blessing God allows as this illness takes my father.

today

i can feel my insides changing.