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