Ho-Ho-Hose

I'm usually a very private person.

You won't find me sharing personal information with co-workers, acquaintances, or the bank teller (as noted in a recent post).

But for some reason this blog makes me want to share.

And today I'd like to share with you about maternity compression stockings.

Remember that one time when I told you I had to order a pair (or two) of these babies?

Yes, well, they arrived.

They're here, they're here - get the door!!

A disturbing, but true fact?

I was actually really excited to get them.

Don't judge me - I've been in pain.

And they're just like nylons, right?

Wrong.

Allow me to bring you into my world for a moment.

It'll be fun, I promise.

Ok, first I'm going to need you to find a 9 year old girl and steal her tights.

Pink, white, black, whatever she's got. Rip 'em out of her hands and run.

Now...and this is essential.

Throw them in the dryer on the high setting and shrink them so instead of fitting a 9 year old, they'd maybe fit a 5 year old.

Or, if you're super efficient, steal the tights from a 5 year old.

But don't blame me if she cries.

Next, tape a balloon or a beach ball around your midsection so it's nice and tight - preferably pushing on several internal organs, and sure not to move in all the commotion that's about to ensue.

Good, now take your little girl tights, and gather them all up so you can shove your foot into one side.

Start with the left or the right - it's really your choice - it's all going to turn out the same in the end.

Finally got one foot in? Good for you. Try to pull it up past your calf.

At this point, if you're not laying on the bed, out of breath and ready to give up and wrap your legs in saran wrap for the next 8 weeks than you're doing better than me.

If you do manage to pull those tights up past your thighs, over your hips and past that balloon or ball you've adhered to your belly they're not going to stay there.

I'm just saying.

Gravity will take over. And about the time you are walking into work they're going to start trying to escape from your body...traveling south with such speed you'll be sure your pants are about to slip right off you.

But you're still going to have to act like a grown up, pretend you're not walking around with your crotch around your knees and discreetly hike up both pants and tights while acting like you're merely adjusting your waistband.

Good luck with that.

There, now you have walked a mile in my tights...er...hose...er...stockings.

Whatever, at least you can walk a mile.

I'm just going to stay here on the couch in my granny hose, dreaming of the days when I'll be cute again.

When instead of compression hose I can reinstate the fishnets.

Ah, the good old days.

Happy New Year's everyone!

May 2012 be filled with fishnets!!

Reality Check

It's about that time to break forth the rhythm and the rhyme.

Oh, wait, no that's not right.

It's about the time for New Year's Resolutions!!!

This year I'm not going to get all crazy and make 60 resolutions.

Maybe just like 32.

Nah. Nothing like that either.

Originally I was going to jump on the 32 Before 32 bandwagon and make a big list of things I want done before my next birthday.

But guess what?

In 2012 I'm going to have another baby.

My toddler is going to learn to run and say no.

My dog will continue to be neurotic.

And our two really furry cats still haven't mastered sweeping up their own hair - no matter how many times I show them how with the broom and pan.

And did I mention the laundry? More laundry than I can fathom. Where do all these clothes come from? It can't be from me, because I can never find anything I want to wear in my closet.

Dirty laundry fairies.

So, this year I will be realistic instead of optimistic.

Because optimistic gets me a big list of unchecked "to dos" and we all know how I feel about that!

For today, let's look back at my 2011 list and see how I did. That should make for a nice reality check and a good reminder while this year's list needs to be paired down.

And I'll be back in a few days with a SHORT list of resolutions for the big 2-0-1-2.

2011 Resolutions: Reality Check
Fails: Running a 5K, date nights, Beth Moore Bible study, taking a dance/cooking/crafts class, painting my nails, finish a craft project once a month (I got all the way to NOVEMBER without screwing up - so close!), use an Advent calendar for Christmas, volunteering (what's that?).

Successes: Losing the baby weight (and then I added another baby and MORE baby weight), practicing generosity, sending birthday cards (I was MUCH better than I have been - I'm counting that as success), eat more vegetables (mmmm...broccoli), take more pictures, start a new blog (well, hello there!),

*Side Note*
I'm feeling awfully pregnant these days. That'll happen when you're past the 30-week mark. But today I'm having a wardrobe malfunction that isn't making the situation any better.

I'm wearing a cardigan that will not, for any reason, or with any persuasion, stay buttoned.

I've buttoned, and buttoned, and then cursed some choice words while buttoning some more.

And all to no avail.

My belly is just too much for those tiny white buttons and they are crying out in protest.

I guess I don't blame them.

It's probably time to retire this MATERNITY shirt to the "too small" pile.

That pile is getting a bit too big for my taste.

And so is my rear.

Happy Holidays everyone! Have a safe and healthy New Year's!

Let's Pretend

I'd like to say a few things about this week.

1. Bank tellers at Wells Fargo have a special skill for irritating me.

Why must they know what I'm doing with the rest of my day or over the weekend?

Or if I'm using the money I'm withdrawing to go Christmas shopping?

For some reason (call me crazy) I don't think that's any of their business.

Let's maybe stick to impersonal banter - like the rest of the civilized customer service world.

I'd be happy to chat with you about the weather, the upcoming holiday season, or our struggling sports teams.

I will not be giving you my Christmas shopping list or a rundown of my weekend plans.

I'm pretty sure my mom doesn't even know those things, teller-boy.

I miss the days of bank tellers who didn't make eye contact, let alone venture into chatty banter with you.

2. Generic sandwich bags are NOT the same as Ziplocks.

Normally, I love me a good generic brand.

I celebrate with the rest of the discount fairies at saving a penny or two.

But, I have found that the generic bags just don't keep out smells/tastes like those Ziplocks.

Little geniuses that they are.

Today was the last straw.

My yellow cake/fudge buttercream sandwich cookie tasted like garlic bread (since that's what it was packed on top of in my lunch box).

That is truly horrifying and completely unacceptable to me.

Pregnancy tastebuds aside - fudgey, delicious buttercream should NEVER taste like garlic.

NEVER.

Protect yourself and your family and buy retail!

And that's the only time you will hear me say that.

Amen.

3. No one is getting a Leonard Christmas card this year.

It's not going to happen.

I have to have peace about it.

And so should you.

Shout out to all the other working mom's who can't get their act together!!

Woot! Woot!

Seriously, I don't have time.

The dog is misbehaving, the cats are puking, the boy is running, my belly's growing, fa la la la la la la!!!

And just so I feel better, here's a little family picture.

Well, ok, you were going to get a family picture, but blogger is not cooperating and it's 9:45 pm. I've made caramels, fudge, 5 pans of pumpkin bread, and packed up Christmas gifts in the last few hours and I'm tired. I'd like to go to bed now and not watch the picture upload spinning thing circle round and round fruitlessly.

So let's pretend together.

Pretend you saw a really attractive family picture - one where we're all groomed and coordinated, and not what it actually was, which is a picture hastily taken at the Mall of America on Halloween night after a long day. :)

Pretend the picture came to your house in a gold-foil lined envelope, with the greeting, "From our family to yours, Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year!"

'Cause I'd do it up real classy-like if I had time.

And a nanny.

And a house cleaner.

And a personal chef.

THEN, I'd have classy Christmas cards.

Until then, feel free to come back to the blog to view Christmas - Leonard style.

There. Now I feel better.

Christmas cards: Done.

Life is Good

Last week I started a new job and I love it!

The people I work with are friendly, funny, and super laid back.

It's a nice change from where I've been the last month.

And there are some bonus features to where I now work.

Let me round out some of my favorites:

The bathroom smells like a Mister Misty Freeze - cherry flavored, I think. Let me clarify - The WOMEN'S bathroom. I will not vouch for the smell in the men's room!

The sensor in the paper towel dispenser (in said women's bathroom) is malfunctioning, making it so you have to lean all the way into the doorway. So there's a good chance I'm going to get smacked in the face by a swinging door for my good hygiene efforts. This is particularly funny to me since my company produces sensors. Ironic.

On my desk I have approximately 50 paper clips, 14 post it note pads, three tape dispenser refills, two computer screens, one stapler and zero files.

But my social calendar is blowing up. I have two potlucks, one holiday lunch, one holiday dinner, a holiday party and 3 paid holidays coming up! Which probably means my rear is going to be doing some blowing up of it's own. Sigh.

I suppose I could exercise some self control and not eat ALL the goodies offered.

But where's the sport in that?

How can I gloat about the amount of weight I lose after the baby if I don't gain any weight in the first place?

That makes sense, right?

In other exciting baby news I found out today that I get to be fitted for the ever stylish, highly sought after compression hose.

They sound sexy, right? Ow, ow!!

Not only do I have to wear them, but I have to be measured for them.

I'm not even sure that I want to know how big my thighs are, I definitely don't want someone else to measure them and then record that number for others to review and assign a size to.

If those panty hose come and they have a size that begins with an X, I'm ripping that tag out immediately and blocking the memory from my brain.

Just one more thing I'm going to hold over my son's head when he's older.

Right along with the amount of time I end up in labor with him, and my never ending supply of gray hair (which I swear has multiplied since becoming pregnant the first time).

I think his high school graduation party would be a good time to bring up these items...along with the naked baby photos.

I'm really looking forward to it.

Wax On, Wax Off

Oh, if only I were talking about waxing.

You know, as in, I am smooth as a baby's butt kind of waxing?

Listen, even my butt isn't as smooth as a baby's butt, let's just be honest about that one!

But oh, I long for the days of manicures and waxing. Time to myself. Feeling pampered and luxurious (still a word, honey!).

No, my greatest luxury in life right now is a pair of velour maternity sweatpants.

They are the only pants that don't cut off my circulation and make me feel like a bratwurst stuffed inside a hotdog.

Nice imagery, right?

Anyway, as usual I've run away from the point.

And by run, or course I mean, waddle.

Back to the point.

Wax on, wax off.

I'm convinced that I am housing within my being the next Karate Kid.

This eggplant sized human, who cannot even open his eyes yet, somehow manages to reach out and punch me with a force that was never achieved by his older brother - bless his heart!

And when I say he is punching me, I am not exaggerating.

I know, it's hard to believe. What with my propensity for story telling and all.

But it's true.

Today, as I walked down the hallway at work, his assault sent me staggering into a wall, grasping my stomach and exclaiming, "Ouch!"

And maybe that was a tad bit dramatic.

But only a tad.

I miss my anterior placenta.

I didn't think I'd ever type those words, but there they are.

And it's true. I miss it's protection. This posterior nonsense is just plain silliness.

I love this boy - and I love that he's so active.

But I don't need to see his little fist trying to escape through my skin - like a scene from Alien.

Settle down in there Daniel-son or I will send the Sensei after you!

Yo Mama

Yo mama.

She's great, I know.

If she's anything like my mama she's your good friend.

And you talk about everything, right?

No, not right.

Yo mama did not tell you about some things. It's true, I promise.

At least my mama didn't tell me about everything.

And neither did anyone else for that matter.

Like, for instance, why didn't anyone mention that if you color your foot black with Sharpie to hide the fact that you got a run in your pantyhose BEFORE you left the house that it wouldn't come out for three days...and counting?

Now, I love a good Sharpie, but there's a reason why you're not supposed to use it on your skin.

Consider yourself warned.

But you probably don't need that warning.

Because you probably wouldn't do that...on account of the fact that you don't have baby brain...piled on top of mom brain.

Well, good for you. But I do, which means I can't come up with simple words like "cough drops" and "picture frames" when in everyday conversation with co-workers.

You think I'm kidding, but I'm not.

And my mama didn't tell me about that either.

That I would completely lose my brain after having babies.

I'm thinking about getting some Ginko Biloba...or maybe just one of those 5-hour energy drinks.

Don't judge me yet.

I can still perform complicated tasks like concatenating. It's the easy stuff like, you know, conversation...and stuff...that eludes me.

See what I mean?

But again, unless you can not only say concatenating, but you know what it means and you can perform it for me as proof, you are not allowed to make fun of me.

Let's talk about why you can make fun of me.

And you guessed it, yo mama didn't tell you about this either.

So, I have a little human being making eyeballs inside my belly, right?

And he's busy in there. So he's not paying any attention to where his hands and feet are flying...or his disturbingly pointy head and bottom for that matter.

And I have no control over that.

Which means I have no control over...other things.

Let's just say if we are friends...have a little compassion about letting me use the bathroom in every store we walk into. Or pretending that you don't smell that.

Because I'm going to pretend that I didn't do it.

Deal? Good.

I know there were other things I wanted to mention here, but I can't remember right now.

No really, it's true.

And it's 8:30 pm.

Which, at this point in life, is WAY past my 7 pm bedtime.

So if I remember, I'll be back.

Otherwise, I'll just try to post more often.

I said, try, stop laughing.

White Chocolate Marshmallow Cake Bar

You should make these.

Like right now.

They were eat-the-whole-pan delicious.

And I know, coming from me, that doesn't mean a lot.

What with the dessert-whore situation I have going on.

BUT, in all seriousness these were amazing.

And disturbingly easy to make.

And you probably have all the ingredients in your pantry! Bonus!

Here's the link to the recipe.

Just a few notes on how I operate in the kitchen:

I made them with the graham crackers (highly recommend).

I baked them in an 8x8 pan, as the original recipe suggests.

Of course, I used more marshmallows than the recipe called for...because I could...and when have you ever said, "I wish this had less marshmallow."?

I hope those words have never come out of your mouth - for then we shall not be friends.

Ah, but we are friends. And that is why I share this recipe with you.

Because you know you want some!

So, now you have to go make them.

Because you can't have any of mine.

There aren't any left.

I don't apologize.

Happy Baking!

Yep, Yep, Yep

Let's just get it out of the way and move on.

I haven't blogged in a very long time.

Look back at the last blog and the whole explanation is there.

Mom stuff...yadda, yadda, yadda.

Done.

Moving on.

Halloween!!

Ok, we're not big celebrators of Halloween in our house.

We're more fans of Jesus. You know how it goes.

But we have a little one. And what is cuter than dressing your child up in a ridiculously embarrassing costume and parading him out in front of strangers?

I submit there's nothing cuter.

Except maybe kittens in teacups. That's pretty cute.

But I digress. Halloween.

We took Pookie to the MOA for the...*insert dramatic music here*..."World's Largest Indoor Trick-or-Treat Event"!!

Ta da!

Not because he needed candy, or because we were particularly excited about trick-or-treating.

More because we didn't want to deal with the thugs in our neighborhood who don't understand that no lights on at our house means don't knock repeatedly on the door until our dog is about to have a heart attack and our baby is awakened from his early, but necessary 7 pm bedtime.

Yep, yep, yep.

So, we dressed the little one up like a monkey (VERY last minute CLEARANCE costume scored at Menard's on Sunday night!) and headed out to the Mall for some family fun and some dinner.

And we found both. And then some.

We also found lots of mom dressed in inappropriate costumes, toting around their inappropriately dressed children.

Awesome.

In all my stay-at-home-mom, turtle-neck wearing naivety I forgot that SOME women use this holiday to dress like...well...like ladies of the night...eh-hem!

Yep, yep, yep.

I have a few things to say about that ladies.

1. You are someone's mom. I'm not saying you have to pull out the chest-high jeans, but we don't all need to see HOW you made those babies you're carting around!

2. Lingerie is NOT a Halloween costume. It's not, I promise.

3. The only goodies I want my husband and son seeing have the names Milky Way and Snickers printed on them. So unless your backside and chest-ular area are stamped with these logos - put 'em away!
*And side note: Even if they ARE stamped with these logos - WEIRD - I still don't want to see them - and neither do my boys. Wear a coat. And some long pants. And maybe a scarf.

There, I think I've adequately outlined my thoughts on that.

Until next year. :)

Have a great Tuesday everyone. I'll try to get pictures up soon!

Pictures, Costumes, and More

"Somewhere, someone who is busier than you is running."

That's probably true. And, likewise, somewhere (all over) someone who is busier than me is blogging.

But I can't seem to get it done.

Ugh.

Most days I just feel like my day-to-day is just not interesting enough to post about.

Making meals, cleaning bathrooms, doing laundry...endless games of peek-a-boo.

These are things only a mom cares about.

And without beautiful pictures to document each process of my life - it's just words. And even though I love words, sometimes they are just not enough.

Words cannot adequately portray our life - in all it's messy glory.

So, here are just a few images of our life over the past few weeks.







We've been to the zoo, we've celebrated special events with family, took our first family trip to the park, and, as I mentioned before, had many days of "normal" in between.

And even though I don't have great pictures of much of it, I have great memories...and we've had great time together as family.

So, I'm going to have peace about it.

And then I'm going to take more pictures, darn it!

Get your act together, Katie!

Ok, I'm done yelling now. I think. Yeah, I'm done.

I'm off to print out a pattern for Pookie's Halloween costume and finish invitations for a dear friend's baby shower.

Craftiness will ensue!

Victory

I am sitting in between a laundry basket (that is hiding a wet spot from where I cleaned up cat puke on the couch) and a pile of clean laundry.

Both have been sitting here for more than 24 hours.

Not the cat puke.

That was a new surprise.

There are toys scattered on the floor, cat hair everywhere and dust layers on the bench in front of me.

But the dishes are done.

I'm calling that victory.

Oh, and my babe is sleeping...for the first time since 6 am.

I'm claiming victory for that one too.

The chicken has been removed from the freezer and just may be ready in time for dinner...once I figure out what dinner might be.

Victory.

I'm claiming little victories these days. It's easier than feeling defeated by dirty floors, piles of laundry and pancakes for dinner...again.

I'm trying to learn about letting go and accepting the fact that I cannot do everything.

Shocking, I know.

It's a rough lesson. And it's not my favorite. But I'm learning to embrace the chaos, because as the sign says...

"Please excuse the mess...we LIVE here."

And we do.

And we like it that way.

But, even with my new-found calm over the chaos I still wouldn't be heartbroken if our pets showed up bald one day.

I'm just saying.

MN State Fair on a stick!

Yesterday we went to the State Fair.

It was a perfect day of cool weather, delicious food and family fun!

And even though we walked through every building, toured the barns and watched a police dog demonstration, my day can be summed up in one word.

Food.

Oh, glorious MN State Fair food...on a stick.

Let's talk about it.

I enjoyed, shared or partook in each of the following wonders. I'm smiling just thinking about it.

The day started with cheesecurds (at 9 am). It's the right thing to do!

Followed closely by a pronto pup, Sweet Martha's Cookies, a Dino's gyro, deep fried pickles, a chocolate cream puff, and Australian potatoes.

Now, it really did take 4 people and six hours to eat that much food but we did it!

And then I had cereal for dinner...because by that point in the night my stomach had called "Uncle" long ago.

But it was totally worth it and I'd do it again...next year.

Right now I need to go do about 1,000 squats.

Or maybe I'll go make an egg and cheese mcmuffin for breakfast.

Yeah, that's probably what's going to happen.

Happy Wednesday everyone!

It's double coupon day and since Pookie is refusing to take a nap we're headed to the grocery store before 9 am.

Look out Rainbow, here comes the crazy coupon lady!

Extra Wide

I have a bone to pick with a few people.

Well, really just one person.

Or one GROUP of people, really.

Don't worry, it's probably not you.

Unless you work for Gabrielle Rocha shoes or the 6pm.com website.

Disclaimer: I LOVE the 6pm.com website AND

I love my Gabrielle Rocha boots.

HOWEVER...

I was sorely misled and appropriately disappointed the other day with both.

Let's have a story...

Once upon a time there was a princess with tiny feet, a slender waist and less than slender calves...and hips and thighs...but they're not part of the story, so we'll move on.

I have big calves. It's not a secret. It runs in the family. It's irritating but it's true.

Skinny jeans are out of the question, as are most knee high boots.

Those calves of mine will just refuse to be forced into anything smaller than say...a...tube slide sized cylinder.

It's rough.

But I thought I'd found the solution to my problem.

Wide-shaft boots!

Ahhhhhh...the sound of angels singing...

I even chose the EXTRA wide width hoping to be able to wear them over jeans...

And the dream would be realized...

But alas, this was not to be.

When I opened my package and pulled out the boots my heart sank.

I stuck my arm down into the boot and it was barely wide enough for my arm...which, people, let me tell you, is CONSIDERABLY smaller than my leg. Thank goodness!

Hoping against all odds I pulled on the boots anyway.

And miraculously they glided on.

Ok, there wasn't so much gliding as there was tugging, but they were on.

Oh, but there was no room for jeans.

There was barely room for sheer panty hose ladies!

For reals!

So I'm disappointed and still on the hunt for truly WIDE shafted boots.

I will not be thwarted. I will prevail.

You WILL see me in boot over jeans...maybe even with knee socks underneath just for spite!

But until that time, I'll wear my skinny boots with very skinny tights and vow to claim victory over my calves.

I don't make such promises about my thighs...but that's a whole other post.

Lesson Learned

I've picked up a few things over the weekend.

Just a smattering of moments for which I am wiser...or something.

I thought I'd share them with you so you don't have to learn them all on your own.

I'm nice like that.

Let's break it down, list-style.

1. Making spinach dip (from a vegetable packet mix) WITHOUT spinach will create something inedible.

*You may be asking, "Why would I try to do this?" Oh, well, YOU wouldn't. But I did because I accidentally left the spinach out overnight on the counter after washing it. And then, I tried to put it in the fridge, but it was uncovered and I shoved it way in the back...where it froze! And even after it thawed out it was so sad looking I couldn't bring myself to use it. So I improvised. And you know how that goes sometimes. Duh, duh, dun!

Needless to say, we did not have spinach dip with our appetizer night. I threw out the icky dip, sliced up the delicious artisian bread I was going to serve with it and made mini french bread pizzas instead.

Crisis averted.

2. It is impossible to know when to stop eating Sour Patch Kids. Somehow you always go 1, or 2, or 12 too far. And before you know it your tongue is sore, your stomach hurts and the bag is empty.

Just don't turn the bag over and look at the calorie count. You don't want to know.

By the way, the same is true for Doritos - but I learned that lesson years ago! Ha!

3. People who think it's OK to walk their dogs around North Minneapolis without a leash are irritating. Oh, and they just so happen to be breaking the law.

I'm just saying.

3. $3.99 Gladiolas from Cub don't last more than 4 days in my house. Tear.

4. If set near a pile of rocks, a 9 month old will two-fist them into his mouth at a rate of speed which seems impossible for his tiny arms.

It will happen.

5. A mini DQ Nutter Butter Blizzard from DQ and a trip to Michael's ALL BY MYSELF will restore my faith in humanity...and my sanity.

There, now you're informed. I'd say, go ahead and write a few of these down, and keep 'em on the fridge. You know, for reference.

Especially that one about Sour Patch Kids. No foolin'!

Andes Mint Cupcakes

I still haven't found the camera.

I just don't know where it could be.

If you work at Bunker Beach in Coon Rapids, MN and you just happened to have landed on this blog site and you magically found our silver camera (don't ask me the brand name) with lots of pictures of a super cute boy and naughty but adorable pets, could you please email me?

Thanks.

The lack of camera is why I only have this picture of the most magical cupcakes I've ever made.



It doesn't even come close to doing them justice. It's grainy, and lifeless and a little bit blurry.

And these tiny morsels of love were moist and chocolatey and well, just pure heaven.

I know, you can't tell, but they may have changed my life.

Ok, they didn't change my life, but they probably changed my waistline a little bit.

Totally worth it.

Let's talk details.

I started with my favorite chocolate cake recipe.

*side note / note to self* When making said favorite cake recipe make sure that the chocolate mixture is cooled sufficiently before adding the eggs, or you WILL end up with scrambled eggs in your cupcakes. - Just a gentle reminder for myself - pay me no attention. :)

And here's where the fun begins.

I bought two bags of Andes mints. Mostly because I wasn't sure how many candies were in each bag and how big the mints actually were. Clear packaging would have been helpful here.

Anyway, I unwrapped and chopped up probably 8 or so Andes mints, then poured about 1/2 to 3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips into a bowl while I was warming up a cup of heavy cream.

Awww...let's just take a moment for heavy cream....Mmmmm...

Ok, so once my cream was a bubblin' I poured it over my mint chocolate concoction and let it sit until it had time to melt. Then I stirred it all together and set it aside to cool and firm up a bit - right after I licked the whisk - you know, just to make sure it tasted ok.

Um, yeah, it tasted ok.

Once the cuppies were cooled I filled them with the velvety rich ganache and topped them with my top secret fudge butter cream frosting.

And then, because I like to be excessive, I topped each one with an Andes mint slice.

Yep, definitely my favorite cupcake to date.

Yes, even better than the Peanut Butter Oreo.

I know, I know, but it's true.

I do not have a recipe - I'm a dump and pour kind of girl, but if you really must have one I can probably make one up - and get pretty close to the right measurements.

Otherwise, just make it up yourself. They'll probably be beyond yummy.

It's chocolate and mint. How could it be bad?

Just Because

Just because...

...it's been 11 days since I have posted - gasp!

...it's Monday.

...i'm sitting on my couch with my feet on the coffee table because the living room floor has been freshly washed.

...it's the hubby's birthday and we get to go to Benihana for dinner.

...and we have a sitter for Pookie!

...there's so much laundry piled in my room that i'm thinking about just throwing it away and buying all new clothes.

...i've been looking at things online i cannot afford and couldn't justify even if i could afford them.

...i lost our camera.

mom, do you have our camera??

...i made carrot cake cupcakes with cream cheese frosting - then licked the frosting bowl clean.

...and then i made chocolate mint (andes-style) cupcakes and licked both the filling and the frosting bowls clean.

just because...

...i'm not starting a diet tomorrow even after those frosting-faced admissions.

Happy Monday everyone!

I'll be back soon...after I find the camera.

Illegal

I'm pretty sure there are certain things in life that are so addictive, they should just be illegal.

I type that as I sit licking Nutella off my spoon.

I'm putting Nutella on the illegal list.

For reals. It's not ok how yummy that stuff is.

And I know it's touted as a health food, but ladies, hear me on this one.

It's. Not. Good. For. You.

Just two tablespoons (one serving - if you have self control - which I don't) is 200 calories.

And that's not the worst of it.

There are 21 grams of sugar in those two tiny tablespoons!! Oh my goodness, I think I actually just felt another patch of cellulite pop up!

Peanut butter only has 3 grams of sugar for the same serving size. That means Nutella has 7 times more sugar than peanut butter! 7 times!!!

But, will that stop me from eating it? Probably not.

See?

Illegal.

Right up there with crack!

Excuse me a moment, I need to go get some peanut butter.

Ok, I'm back.

Want another one?

Pinterest.

Illegal.

I can literally spend HOURS searching this addicting site, and other sites around the web for inspiring crafts, recipes, home decor and more!

My laundry pile and neglected hardwood floors will tattle on me for this one.

And the worst part is that Pinterest makes me discontent with what I have.

What?! I don't have room for a reading nook, a breakfast nook and a walk in closet in my 1,000 square foot house? What's wrong with me?!?

Blech. I don't like that feeling.

I much prefer being house-proud of the tiny abode God has blessed us with. It's where our family plays and it's ok that I only have two closets in the whole house and neither of them is big enough for me to step into, let alone walk into.

I'm putting it on the list.

Illegal.

But again, that probably won't stop me from pinning again.

Sigh. No self-control.

I'm sure there are other things I could add to this list, but my brain is all a-twitter with sugar and craft projects.

Oooh, Twitter might be another one. If I tweeted. Which I don't.

I don't feel like I have enough thoughts for Twitter.

I'm just not self-centered enough to think people want to read my every waking thought or action.

That's why I have a blog.

That's not self-centered at all.

I hope you're getting the sarcasm here.

Yes? Good.

Enjoy your day everyone.

Oh, and if you live in Minnesota - don't go outside.

You'll melt.

I swear it's true.

I'm in the club

I'm starting a club.

I'm calling it the She-Woman Bug Haters Club and I'm accepting new applicants.

All you need is a can of Raid and a severe dislike for all things in the bug world.

I'll even accept those of you with a hatred for the creepy, crawly, six-legged demons.

That's what they are, let's not sugarcoat it people.

We will go forth, seek out, kill and destroy anything that presents itself with more than four legs.

Ew. Even that description creeps me out!

I know, I'm freaking out a little here, but for good reason.

I was attacked this morning by this:



I'm sorry you had to see that.

But in my defense, I did say this post would have pictures. :)

No, seriously, this mini-me of the scorpion family was lying in wait in my bathroom this morning.

Let me just paint you a little picture.

A mental picture, you don't want images of what I'm about to describe, trust me on this one.

I put Pookie down for a nap and ventured into the bathroom to hop in the shower and get ready for the day. While undressing I happened to glance at the ceiling and what did I see? An earwig!

That's what that nasty little sucker is in the picture above.

I know this because they have been roaming around our house for the last few months and I for one would like them to pack up their little buggy bags and go home!

This is not your home!

My husband even sprayed something around the outside of the house to try to stop them from getting in.

Didn't seem to affect this bathroom stalker's travels.

Maybe he's the Rambo of all the earwigs.

Anyway, back to me...in the buff...scared...and a little ticked off.

And what do you do when you're not wearing any clothes, the shower is already running and you see a bug on the ceiling?

You go get the Swiffer sweeper out of the kitchen closet to kill and destroy.

Of course!

There's just one problem.

When I got back into the bathroom, the earwig was gone.

Yep, sneaky little sucker had moved on me.

Ah, but I'm not so easily fooled.

I climbed up on the toilet, wielding my Swiffer weapon and spied him on top of the vanity.

Now, I made the decision not to climb up onto the vanity stark naked and try to kill this nasty bug at close distance.

I have peace about that decision - you should too.

But this decision had it's consequences. While I was trying to decide how to get to him, he crawled down into the top of the vanity and disappeared.

Awesome.

Now I had nothing left to do but suck it up, act like a grown woman, and take my shower with a rogue bug loose just mere inches from my head.

I can do that, right?

I am a grown up.

Except that I'm not. Not when it comes to bugs.

I am a tiny, shrieking girl.

Nevertheless, I took my shower, all the while keeping my eyes peeled on the ceiling and the shower curtain.

I knew he was waiting to attack!

It wasn't exactly the most relaxing shower I've ever had.

And when I emerged a few minutes later, there he was, perched atop the vanity, his little tail wagging in victory.

Ah, but I had the last laugh.

I grabbed my Swiffer sword and chopped that litter bugger in half!

Wha-cha!

That's the noise you have to make when you kill bugs.

That, or scream, "Die, bugs, die!!"

It completes the circle of life.

Now, who's victorious??

She-Woman Bug Haters Club: 1
Bugs: 0

So, if you'd like to be in the club, just let me know - we'll get t-shirts. It'll be awesome.

No Control

Did you know that we're not in control of our lives?

Seriously, it's true.

It's horrifying!

And I was never more aware of this than on a stormy night when the power went out in our little ghetto home once again.

It does that, once a week or so now.

It's awesome.

This incident was particularly annoying given it's timing.

The power went out about 5:30 pm last night. We got home about 5:45 pm

Stellar.

We put the Pook to bed about 7:30 pm as usual and proceeded to play Battleship until we literally couldn't see our boards anymore and had to give in and go to sleep.

And then the storm set in.

And it was a doozy.

That's right, I said doozy.

The wind howled, the rain poured and the lightning was electric enough to rival the Las Vegas strip!

And Pookie was not happy.

He was up almost once an hour from 9:30 pm until 2:30 pm.

He was crying.

And I was crying.

It was all very bad.

And in the midst of being angry over having no control I found myself praying and thanking God for the protection of our house. We may not have had power but we had a roof over our heads and we were safe.

And while I was praying Pookie calmed down and went to sleep and the storm ceased.

I finally dozed off to sleep only to be awakened when the lights flashed back on all over the house at 2:30 am.

Little did I know that the light in Pookie's room was on too...

Don't worry, he let me know at the early hour of 5:40 am when he called me to come change his dirty diaper.

Another thing I have no control over.

But I guess I don't need to have control.

I just need to know the one who does.

*And on a totally unrelated topic: The next post will have pictures, I promise! We've been landscaping...and getting dipped in the lake! I'll post those soon!

A Total Disaster

Fail.

Epic fail.

This was the theme in my kitchen last night.

I'm going to let you all in on a little secret.

Ok, it's a big secret. It's a real doozie.

WAIT!

You have to promise not to tell ANYONE.

Do you promise?

Ok.

I cannot make macaroni and cheese.

Duh, duh, DUN!

I know! Tragic, right!?

How is it that I can make roux, custard, souffle and even Julia Child's Beef Bourguignon, but simple, every day mac n cheese eludes me?

It's preposterous I tell you!

Now, let me just clarify something.

I can make KRAFT macaroni and cheese with the best of the 80's working moms.

Milk, butter, powdered cheese - perfection in a pan every time.

It's the homemade stuff that starts with a roux and ends in a clumpy, lumpy, sometimes greasy mess that is driving me nuts!

I can cook, really I can.

But every time I make macaroni and cheese it separates. And it doesn't matter what kind of cheese I use.

I've tried every flavor. I've used block cheese and grated it myself instead of the processed bagged stuff.

Nothing works!

I even managed to ruin the America's Test Kitchen's foolproof recipe.

How is that even possible?!

Shame. Pure shame.

But I do not give up.

I am on a mission to find out what I am doing wrong. To make a mac and cheese that I can sing about - and don't think I wouldn't make up a song about that - because I totally would. I can hear the melody now...

Until then I'm open to your suggestions because I'm kind of at a loss. Feel free to comment at will.

Oh, but don't ask other people.

This is supposed to be our secret, ok?

Pinky swear.

Randomness

Pookie is teething. His little gums are swollen, and he's not his happy self.

It breaks my heart.

He's napping...again...and I am watching Miss Potter - a movie about the life of Beatrix Potter (you know, the author of Peter Rabbit).

I'm disappointed.

She's kind of creepy. And it's kind of boring.

Another library find.

Seriously, who is in charge of the DVDs over there??

My afternoon is, however, being redeemed by my sweet/salty snack combination of peanuts, raisins, and chocolate chips.

What is it about that combination that makes you eat an entire bowl when your hips are insisting you only have a handful?!

It's like peanuts and candy corn.

Crack.

I'm addicted.

And I'm looking forward to Sebastian Joe's ice cream with friends tonight. I can't wait to see what seasonal flavors they've come up with to tempt my palate!

Awww....ice cream.

And it's 95 degrees here today.

This will be the perfect end to my day.

Sorry for the randomness. I did warn you in the post title, but I bet you were still a little blindsided.

I'll return soon with normalcy.

Or at the very least I'll try to stay on topic.

Have a great weekend everyone!

I hope you and yours have a safe and happy July 4th!

Oh boy!

Newsboy cap.

Tiny plaid tie.

Check, check...double check!

I love little boy clothes.

I love that my little guy can be dressed like a little man.

I just wish it was easier to find fashionable and unique boy clothing.

Like this guy, how cute is this?


It's at Gap, of course.

And what about this beanie? I may need to "Add to cart."



Oh, and because we live in the frozen tundra...



Awww...fleece. The silk of the Midwest!

Yes, yes, these pieces are adorable.

But it took some real searching to find them!

A simple trip to my local Target supplies me with plenty of t-shirts and cotton shorts...and probably a cargo pant or two. But that's where the fashion bus stops.

Beep, beep, everybody off - next stop, Girls Department!!

Am I the only one who's noticed that the girl's section of stores are CONSIDERABLY larger and more diverse than their boy counterparts?

We moms of boys like fashion too!!

Come on designers, get a little creative.

If you can offer bows and bracelets for girls at reasonable price points, then you can offer suspenders and ties for boys.

I cannot be the only one who feels this way.

Am I right, here??

If I was a more talented seamstress I would create my own line.

Alas, my eyeball-it-and-pray philosophy for crafting doesn't exactly lend itself to making clothing.

That's kind of an exact science.

So I guess I am just going to have to keep my eye out and snatch up whatever hip pieces I can score.

I'm up for the challenge. I've got nothin' but time on my hands people!

And one and two and three and four!

Get those feet right off the floor!

This is my kind of workout routine.

A little rhyming, a little repetition.

A LOT of instruction.

This is NOT what I experienced with the two DVD's I borrowed from the library recently.

Let me first just stop and declare my love for the library system!

LOVE!

A place to check out novels, music, DVDs, magazines, how-to manuals, and cookbooks.

And all for free.

F-R-E-E

That's my kind of place.

All that said, I was not thrilled with my latest treasures from my public library - through no fault of the library.

I mean, if I was the person who chose which DVDs to supply at the library I probably would have been excited to have Biggest Loser and Dancing with the Stars DVDs too.

That is, until I actually tried to workout to said DVDs.

Oh my, people.

Let the giggling begin.

I popped in the Dancing video - ready for some sweat, some pumped up music, and some hip shaking.

I can get down with the best of them.

I'm not scared of professional dancers.

Bring it on.

And then they did.

And I quit.

Less than 5 minutes into the video!

Seriously, it was ridiculous.

Lovely, lovely Lacey, with her bright smile and flowing hair said this to me.

"Okaaaay, we're going to do the Jive."

"Let's start with a triple step. Triple step, triple step, triple step!"

"Now, turn, and triple step, backwards, now forwards."

And again!"

And I just stood there with my mouth open and my feet firmly planted on the ground.

Sheer disbelief.

What??!

Not only do I have no idea what a triple step is, I couldn't follow you at that mach speed if my feet were on fire!

Give a sister a little direction - break it down for me, please!

But she didn't. She just kept dancing.

So I quit. And I popped in the Biggest Loser dvd, sure that I would have more success with my boyfriend, little Bobby Harper.

And then it happened.

The workout began and Bobby was no where to be seen.

That's right.

Even though he is on the cover of the dvd he is not actually IN the dvd.

The contestants are running the show.

And they're not Bobby Harper!

They're not even the other fake trainers that they keep trying to bring into the show.

And even though I finished the workout (all 20 minutes of it), I was not impressed.

So not impressed that I packed up that dvd right back into it's little lying case, sporting Bobby's smiling face, and placed it squarely back in my library bag to be returned immediately.

And then to console myself I popped in my Tracy Anderson workout and reminded myself what it was like to workout to a professional.

A silly, self-absorbed professional, but that is neither here nor there.

Tracy may watch herself in the mirror and take herself a little too seriously, but she makes my legs ache and my butt sore - and that is my jam!

So, thank you Tracy for the AMAZING workout. And thank you Minneapolis Public Library system for ensuring that I don't spend my hard earned money on workout DVDs that don't work out.

Lesson learned.

Alright, I'm really supposed to be sweeping my floor right now. I'd better get to it.

Have a great day everyone - go visit your library!

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Pretzel Cookies

There she is. Pretty isn't she?

That's a chocolate chip cookie, stuffed with peanut butter chips and pretzels and sprinkled with sea salt.

You know, 'cause I like to be excessive.

I found the inspiration for these here at Sugar Cooking and then went a little rogue.

Since the blogger over at Sugar Cooking admittedly wasn't thrilled with her base cookie dough recipe I didn't follow hers. I used my recipe (adapted from the America's Test Kitchen recipe).

Side note: Have you bought The Complete America's Test Kitchen TV Show Cookbook (2001-2011) yet?

It makes my skirt fly up.

I'm just saying.

So anyway, back to the cookies.

I'll post the recipe below so you can join me in sabotaging whatever diet you may be on.

If I'm going down I'm taking you all with me!

And why not when you can enjoy these??



They rocked my world.

And made me forget that I am supposed to be counting calories.

I counted the calories - I counted them all the way up into triple digits.

Totally worth it, if you ask me.

Now, if you ask Rusty, they were too sweet.

Which is silly given the amount of salt that goes into these.

He's the smartest man I know, and I trust him for lots of things - cookie critic is not one of them.

I call them delicious and declare you leave your computer right now and head to the kitchen to whip up a batch.

Bon Apetit!
(oops, too much Julie and Julia last night!)

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Pretzel Cookies
(original base cookie recipe adapted from America's Test Kitchen)

Makes about 18 large cookies

2 cups plus 2 tablespoons unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon table salt
12 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) salted butter, melted and cooled
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup semisweet or milk chocolate chips
3/4 cup peanut butter chips
3/4 cup pretzel pieces

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Pour some pretzels in a large plastic bag and use your hands to gently break them into pieces. Measure 3/4 cup pretzel pieces into a medium bowl. Add chocolate chips and peanut butter chips and set aside.

Whisk flour, baking soda and salt together in a medium bowl; set aside.

Beat the butter and sugars at medium speed until smooth. Add the egg, egg yolk, and vanilla and beat until fully incorporated. Add the dry ingredients and mix on low speed until combined.

Mix in the pretzels and chips.

Divide the dough into 18 portions and roll them between your hands to make balls. Holding one dough ball with your fingers, pull the dough apart into two equal halves. Rotate the halves 90 degrees and, with the jagged surfaces facing up, join the halves together at their base, forming a single ball, being careful not to smooth the dough's uneven surface.

Place the cookies on a baking sheet, spacing them about 2 1/2 inches apart.

Sprinkle cookies with sea salt.

Bake for 16-19 minutes. Cookies should be light golden brown, with soft centers.

Now, and this is important.

Eat one right out of the oven.

It's right here in the recipe - and you follow recipes, right?

You will not regret it. Your mouth will not regret it.

Your hips may regret it, but we're not listening to them today.

And maybe you want to make 19 cookies instead of 18 so that can be your little secret.

I'm just saying.

I won't tell.

Macgyver Crafting

I've been up to no good.

Someone gave me some free time, handed me a can of spray paint, a warmed up hot glue gun, and a whole pile of beautiful fabric.

I have been in heaven.

Disclaimer: Only one out of the three projects I'm about to show you is finished...and turned out the way I originally intended it to.

That's usually how my crafting goes - Macgyver-style.

Let's get real. I don't actually know the technical way to do anything.

I just make stuff up and alter as I go along.

Sometimes it works. Sometimes not so much.

Here's one that worked...the second time.



You'll have to use your imaginary eraser to remove the hanging wire, then use your imaginary husband to hand all of the components on the wall - and then you'll have an idea of what it will look like soon (hopefully tomorrow).

Or you could just wait until I post pictures of the finished project. :)

Initially I wanted to decoupage words and images from our wedding cards onto the "L".

Remember that time when I had lofty goals but less than lofty creative ability??

Thwarted again!

It's ok, I think I actually like how these turned out better with the fabric.

And the "L" has been padded to make it stand out.

I have no tutorial. You wouldn't want to see it anyway.

It would just be a lot of pictures of me grimacing, bubble clouds above my head laced with swear words, and lots of scrap fabric strewn about my dining room table.

Not exactly inspiring stuff.

Just keeping it real.

Moving on.

Next, there is this project...more than a year in the making...and still not finished.



It's toilet paper roll art. Looks good, right?

Not anymore it doesn't!

That picture was the first coat of primer. And it looked great.

And then I tried to spray it with a glossy yellow.

Bad idea. Bad. Idea.

Oh, and did I mention I did it on a windy day? Outside? Under a tree? During the time of year when our neighborhood's cottonwoods are puking cotton all over everything?

No, I didn't mention that?

Oh, well, I did.

And now my beautiful craft is more like crap.

I'm going to try to salvage it. I'm not holding my breath.

Luckily we're a family who believes in using the toilet on a regular basis, so I can probably throw another one together...in another year or so.

Lastly, let's take a peek at my hubby's Father's Day present. Yes, I crafted it.

It's his fault for marrying me.

Ta da!



I booked him and his dad a Summit Brewery Tour! Yeah for FREE beer!

This was super easy. I stole, er, borrowed the Summit logo off their website, fired up my Word document, pasted it in there, wrote some silly text and printed the whole shebang off on my home printer. I made two, one for my hubby, and one for his dad.

Done and done.

And then I may or may not have used two Eggo waffle boxes as gift boxes and wrapped them each in pieces cut from one of my husband's old shirts.

Yep, I'm that girl.

Cheap, cheap, cheap

It's the sound of a wee birdy, and the best word to describe my spending habits.

Cheap.

Some may call themselves thrifty or money conscious.

I don't have such illusions of grandeur.

I am cheap. And proud of it!

It's why I shop at Aldi...for .29 cent peaches.

And why I frequent the thrift stores and Goodwill.

I delight in the hunt and the thrill of finding a good, nay, a GREAT deal.

I found one such deal yesterday.

Wait for it.

I got this for our Pookie...



It's a Leap Frog musical table.

It speaks in two languages (Spanish and English), plays music, teaches the alphabet and numbers 1-10.

It's in PRISTINE condition, all parts working and in order - and SO CLEAN!

I spotted it from across the store, pointed my cart in that direction, told Pookie to "hold on" and made a beeline for it.

Once it was thoroughly inspected, I flipped it over to find the price - anticipating a $9.99 price tag.

Instead I saw $2.42.

I gasped. Stepped back. Regained my composure. Looked again.

$2.42.

I shoved it in my cart and raced around the corner and down the next aisle, half expecting a store clerk to chase me and alert security to my thievery. I may have even been giggling a little bit.

Did I mention it is Leap Frog? That stuff is not cheap!

But wait, it gets better.

Yesterday was Customer Appreciation Day - 25% off everything in the store!

Ahhh!! A chorus of little birdies...cheap, cheap, cheap!

My score?

$1.86.

Done and done.

Oh, and I also found this little number...you know, in case Summer ever shows up and I need a sundress.



$5.99!
*anyone else want to exclaim, "$5.99, are you out of your mind??"?
No? Just me? Ok, we should probably move on then.

That's a $6 dress people. And it even has pockets.

And I am a girl who likes a dress with pockets. I've got lip gloss and change to carry.

So, if you're ever in the mood for a little thrifting...cheap-style. Call me up. We'll shop!

Yep, cheap suits me. And my wallet.

Time

Time is a funny thing.

It's elusive. And fleeting.

If you had asked me two weeks ago about my time you would have heard me mutter something about not having time to talk about time. "Come back and talk to me in two weeks when I'm not working anymore - I'll have plenty of time then," I may have said.

Fast forward two weeks.

I'm not working.

I'm living the dream - oh, how I LOVE the dream!

But somehow, in the dream, I still don't have time to get done all the things that are cluttering up my "To Do" list (and my dining room table!)

Where do my days go?

Well, ok, I know where most of my days go.

They go to the grocery store - with coupons - my days are thrifty and CHEAP!

They go to Target - for all the fascinating items that make my world go round - you know, formula and diapers and toilet paper.

They go to the library - and end up reading books to other people's unsupervised children.

They go to my son's room to play and cuddle while he's still little enough to want me around.

And I love all of these things.

But they take time.

And they don't leave much time for cleaning, crafting, laundry, correspondence, or organization.

And honestly.

I'm ok with that.

Right now, my time is not my own.

My time belongs to a boy with chubby thighs and bright blue eyes.

And if spending my time reading books, singing songs, and teaching the alphabet mean I have dusty floors, unfinished sewing projects, dirty laundry, and late thank you cards - I'll still be smiling.

How could I not when I get to spend my time with them??

Nesting

I love our nest. The little house we call home.

A safe place for mom, dad, baby and fur pets.

In my heart it will forever be the first place we shared together as a family of two.

The door we walked through when we brought home our first born son.

It will be the place D takes his first steps, and says his first word.

It's special. It's unique. It's ours.

It's also a little drab...and a lot dark.

Circle back a few years ago and you'll find a slimmer me. A me with heels...and lipstick.

A me who checked out her rear in the bathroom mirror because it looked good, not to make sure she hadn't sat in baby puke.

A me with an unhealthy obsession with dark colors.

I was one with those colors - we were friends...amigos...pals.

"Paint those walls black," I may have cried at one point.

Ok, maybe not black, but close to it.

Consequently, the walls in our little (LITTLE) home are dark.

Dark blue. Dark green. Dark, dark, dark.

And I'm over it.

I'm older and wiser. That's what the gray hair means, right?

I know what I want.

I want light, airy, fresh, lively...ethereal if you will.

Ok, let's be honest, maybe this is a phase too. But I give in to phases. Call me fickle!

And since I'm far too busy (lazy) to paint our house again...I'm redecorating!

And that calls for INSPIRATION!

Come on, let's get some. You get the Starbucks, I'll surf the web - it'll be a hoot!

I need each and every one of these* in my house right now.

*Ok, that one with the names...those would be OUR names. I don't know who arielle and jacob are. I'm sure they're lovely, but since they've never eaten my meatloaf I'm not puttin' their names on my pillows!

And then there's this backsplash: Little teal perfection!



Romantic bedroom anyone? Yes, please!



And because I need a beautiful place to rest my tush in between batches of cupcakes and pillow making: THE Chair. You know, the one that makes your jaw drop and your heart flutter? This is it!



And finally, a little bit of dreaming. In our next house, I'd like there to be a reading nook (nay, a LIBRARY) that I can fill with Jane Austen novels, childhood favorites and cookbooks.

Here's my inspiration:



Those white chairs would collect cat/dog hair worse than rolls of Scotch tape, but I'm keeping them in my dream.

It's my dream, I can do whatever I want!

So, that's it. My inspiration board of sorts.

I think it's painfully obvious that I'm obsessed with anything yellow or teal right now.

Oh, and you can add gray to that list of obsessions.

It's kind of a problem.

But I'm seeking no help for it - in fact I'm going to continue to feed the addiction by searching "yellow + gray" on pinterest.

Won't you join me??

What is that smell?

It might be me.

I'm just going to say it.

I. Might. Smell.

Not bad, but not good either.

Kind of an, "Hmmmm...did someone just walk a mile on a summer day?"

Don't get all freaked out.

I didn't say RUN a mile on a summer day.

It's not that bad.

Here's what happened.

I bought new deodorant.

I know.

Bad idea.

I should stick to what I know.

I know Secret.

A time or two I may have even been spotted "knowing" Secret Clinical Strength.

And then there was that tryst with Ladies Speed Stick.

But no, this time I deviated from tradition - in the name of adventure.

I went rogue.

And I'm paying for it.

And believe me, this is not a good day to have a malfunctioning deodorant stick.

My house was hit by a tornado.

I have no power.

Which means I have no refrigerator, or coffee maker, or blow dryer, or washer and dryer.

And all that means I ate McDonald's for breakfast, showered without washing my hair and am wearing jeans on a non-sanctioned jeans day!

I NEED deodorant today.

The kind that you can see when you put it on.

None of that clear gel crap.

Ugh.

I am not impressed.

I'm talking to you Tom's deodorant!

If I were to write a letter to the company about their product, it might look something like this.

Dear Tom's,

Thank you for creating a product that is all natural and safe for our environment. I appreciate the care you took in regards to nature. Really, good for you. It's just that it's not really that good for ME. You see, if I wanted to smell like nature, I'd skip the deodorant all together. Me? I'd like to smell like chemicals. Sweet, delicious chemicals. You know...Baby Powder, Lilac, Ocean Breeze. All good! And I've got to say that your Mango scent is very deceiving. It's really only mango in stick form. Once it hits my underarms it's more like mango...that has walked a mile in the hot, hot sun. So, I guess next time I'll stick with my white, chemical-filled anti-perspirant that is bad for nature, but great for me (and anyone who wants to stand next to me).

Sincerely,

Katie
P.S. Yes, it's me you smell

Yep, I'm satisfied with that letter.

And now I feel better.

It's that whole, write-a-letter-to-myself thing.

Works every time.

Dear Katie

Sometimes I like to send emails to myself just so I can type out the things that I desperately want to say out loud.

But can't.

For fear of the consequences.

Usually these missives include several curse words that I would ground my child for uttering, a few sarcastic/snide comments and maybe a violent promise of punching or stabbing with pointy objects for good measure.

Some people journal.

I write myself nasty emails.

It's therapuetic.

And once they're sent I feel better.

And then I go and delete them - never to be revisited again - or worse, seen by anyone else's eyes.

I know, it makes me seem a little bit crazy.

Which I am.

But you already knew that.

And you're still here.

That makes you just a little bit crazy too.

So we're crazy together.

I like it.

And if you find yourself sitting in front of your computer typing a nasty note - go ahead - send it to yourself - I won't tell.

Now move on.

Whatever it is, it's not worth the aggrevation.

Unless someone stole your cupcake.

That means war.

I'm just saying.

$5 Bouquet

Check out these little beauties!



Pretty, eh?

Courtesy of Trader Joe's.

Ah, Joe. I love ya!

And the best part?

They were $5.

For one dozen GORGEOUS roses.

One dozen!

Fab - U - Lous!

Can you tell I'm excited?

Don't think this is my last post on $5 bouquets.

Summer brings out my inner flower child.

Hello Summer!

From Pookie to Pillows

Oh crap!

I've done it again.

It's been too long.

You've left. You're upset.

Chances are great you've moved on to another blog...or two.

I understand. I'd do the same thing. I'm lured by shiny pictures and whitty remarks too!

I promise to step up my bloggy-game.

As of next Friday I'll have all kinds of time on my hands for crafting and baking and blogging and well...everything!

Next Friday is my last day at work - at least for right now.

Bring on summer walks, frosty drinks, days at the beach with Pookie and field trips with grandma!

Can you tell I'm excited?

Hopefully this excitement will translate into more blog posts.

Hopefully. I'm not making any promises.

The lure of a suntan may draw me outside when I should be blogging. :)

Here are a few (very few) pictures of what we've been up to the last few days.

And I'd like to take this time to apologize for the quality. Hurried mom + cell phone camera = AWFUL pictures I should be ashamed to post.

But I'm not ashamed.

Ok, I'm a little ashamed.

Here they are anyway.



This is what Pookie was doing while I was baking 4 dozen cupcakes and 2 dozen cinnamon rolls.

It would be nice if I had pictures of those, wouldn't it??

Priorities people. And right now sleep trumps photography.

How cute is my baby boy crawling??

He's crawling! Ok, it's more of an army crawl - but he gets around!

Proud mama moment over. Moving on.

Let's look at my pillow!



That's right - Amy Butler has stopped by my house.

Well, not Amy herself. But her fabric is there, and that's as close to Amy as I'm going to get.

I'll take it.

I shouldn't even admit that I didn't take a single measurement while making that pillow.

Don't look closely.

I don't mind the little mistakes - it's proof that it's hand made.

Just one question?

Why does my pillow have cellulite?

Do you know what I'm talking about here sewers??

I didn't use a pillow form, I used stuffing. But it's a little uneven.

I stuffed, and stuffed...and then I took out all my aggression on that pillow and I stuffed some more.

Too much?

Too little?

What's the problem?

Either way, it's a little dimpled, and a little chubby - kind of like my thighs - but I love it nonetheless.

I made it and I'm proud.

What did you make?

Dessert Whore

I said it. I typed it. I don't apologize.

It has come to my attention that I am a dessert whore.

Some people like chocolate, some prefer caramel.

Those of you with no imagination drool over vanilla.

And then there's the lemon, lime, strawberry, raspberry people.

Fruit cakes.

But me?

I like it ALL!

Not together, mind you - that would be gross, and weird. And probably fodder for a reality show stunt.

But, some of them together - Yes!

Caramel and chocolate? BFF!

Peanut butter and chocolate AND caramel? Party. In. My. Mouth.

Ooh, and then there's marshmallow. And ginger. And spice. And pumpkin.

Oh, pumpkin.

Butterscotch, coconut, almond, blueberry, and even bacon!

Good, good, good, good, ALL GOOD!

So, dessert whore it is.

I'm ok with it.

I embrace the bake shop slut within - with a cupcake in one hand and a cookie in the other.

Oh my. Now I want a cupcake and a cookie.

Looks like there's going to be some baking going on at my house this weekend.

Happy Mother's Day everyone!

Much love to all the mommas out there!

Grateful

Today I give thanks to my Heavenly Father for

Crafty Goodness

Oh dear little bloggy spot. It has been too long. I have been negligent and distant.

Let's get reacquainted!

Over the past week I have had the immense pleasure to spend five of the last seven days in the exclusive presence of my Pookie. Oh, how I LOVE the days I get to spend with that boy. We are friends. We get each other. We click.

And while at home I have done some crafting, and some cooking. And well, I've just been in heaven!

It's April. Did you know that?

I can't believe it. It was just October, I swear. What happened to Christmas? What happened to winter?

Oh, wait. We're still having winter...

BUT, Easter is upon us, whether the forecast tells us so or not.

And my front door was still sporting my FALL wreath.

Negligent. Ridiculous. Lazy. Cheap.

I was negligent, it was ridiculous and I was too lazy to make something and too cheap to buy something.

But, an awakening has occured.

There is new wreath goodness hanging on my front door!

Want to see??



Ignore the fact that you can see the police training center across the street.

It's not exactly how I thought it was going to look when I stared out, but I like it!

Here's an up close look at the detail.



I'm in love with it. It's shabby, and chic, and a little bit country. It's perfection.

And now I just need a new door. Or maybe just a new color on the existing door.

I feel a new project coming on...

Random, but Informative

It's going to be 70 degrees in Minneapolis today.

A feat as of yet accomplished in the last six months (at least) and I am stuck inside. Blech. Boo. Tear.

BUT, I can rejoice in this little victory - I have been productive.

Dinners have been dined, crafts crafted, and books read.

Let's take a look.

I whipped up this
SO delicious! And easy. And relatively low in calories. Those are TINY toasts people. My tummy thanks me...and so do my hips!

I bought this
Pookie is going to be warm and fashionable. Score!

And this
It's taken me 30 years, but I think I've finally figured out my style. I get it. It's neat.

I'm reading this
Because my beloved is, and statistics say my Pookie will be.

I printed this
Easter brunch is going to be amazing!

I'm listening to this
Don't judge. And don't pretend like you've never...

And tonight...well, tonight is craft night...and I'm making this.
Because living in the 'hood does not mean it's ok to still have your Fall wreath up in April!

And just to be spiteful to my diet I'm eating a snack size 3 Musketeers. Snack size because I want to be spiteful, not pudgy.

Amen.