sorry for the downer

It is funny how God has a way of putting things back into perspective. After feeling sorry for myself for almost 24 hours, I am more focused on all the blessings in my life.

A friend of mine, Jen Gallacher, took her 12 year old son into the Gastroenterologist in December for what they thought was a rountine check-up. They found a large mass in his colon, that turned out to be cancerous. After radiation, and chemotherapy, the cancer spread and progressed...

They released Joey from the hospital as terminal, and Jen and her family are enjoying Joey at home while they still have him here.

Twelve. My oldest is eleven. I can't imagine what she is going through. I don't want to. To think about it, makes me sick inside, and scared for my own kids. No parent should have to outlive their child.

I have racked my brain trying to think of something to do for Jen. Words sound so hollow. I wanted to do something to let her know how often I think of her and her little family. How profoundly this has affected me, and how much the whole thing just breaks my heart. Thankfully, Tania Willis took the initiative to do something.

I am sharing a link to the site she set up, and maybe if you get a second, you can check it out, and be a part of it all. Hug your kids today, tell them you love them.



Edited to add:
Blogger is not showing the link...I will try to get a direct link fixed, but in the mean time, please copy and paste.

http://www.benefitforjen.blogspot.com

because the wound is still fresh...

A couple of weeks ago I was approached by Karen Foster Design to come to the office to film a few short video clips demonstrating their new scrapbooking tool, the Scraparatus.

I ignored the e-mails for a few days, mulling it over. Willing it to go away.

I am really not *that* girl. You know, the whole in front of a camera type. No sir...I am very much the behind the scenes type. I hoped that they would find someone else, and made myself sick thinking about it. Of course, the sickness could have been the starvation, you know, in case I had to do it, after all, the camera adds ten pounds. And please....who likes that thought?

So of course, things progress, and me, being the dummy I am, think to myself, really....how hard can this be? I mean, it's only a few minutes. And then I could stop worrying about it. Just get it over with, and sleep like a baby when it's done.

Today was the day. I needed confidence. I prepared the best that I could. I did the whole shop for new clothes thing, the heavy make-up thing, the manicure thing---for Pete Sake! A manicure! I should have seen the foreshadowing of the event when my three year old told me I had "pretty old lady nails." This wasn't going to work out like I had envisioned.

Well, let me tell you what...

I don't care who you are, when you are plopped under mega-watt lights, all ALONE and have a big fat camera in your face you turn into Video Idiot.

I want you, my friends, to feel what it was like, so you never have to be Video Idiot. Ever. Just say no.

There are helpful cue cards, and suggestions to stuff your brain full with:

"Make sure you say something about the correct positioning of the tool"
"Hold the tool slightly higher..."
The lights sooooo hot...Dry Idea Powder Fresh...stay with me....
"Slow down a little."
"Mention the unique grip."
"Could you squeeze in something about the magnetic handle?"
And I think there was something in there about Etched Edged Dies...?!<---say *that* three times fast!
Heart pounding. Sweating....mouth so dry...so hot....
"Let's try a new angle."
"We are going to go again from the top and pan in closer."
"Catch that part about the felt again."
"Remember.....just be natural, and SMILE!!!"

At this point my SMILE had morphed into a plastic imitation of a smile. A smile that I am sure a mortician would be fired over.

I could feel it. I couldn't change it. I wanted to be witty. I wanted the dialog to flow. I wanted to be just like Ryan Seacrest! I'd like to blame it on the fateful day I gave up caffeine. I wasn't Fun Bobby anymore. I was Video Idiot!

I would mid-sentence lose my thought, and then I would blurt out some freaking motarded thing. Or forget whole points. Or mess up with the tool. And take it again from the top...

At one point I said, and you can quote me:
"So...when you are ready to DIE, you take the tool and....." <----Left the very crucial "CUT" out of die-cut, and another time I said "When you are going to PUNCH something..."<---- Try punching MYSELF, with my fancy Old Lady nails. Ugh.

Let's just say I have a re-newed sense of respect for actresses. Even those crappy ones on infomercials.

The crew was very kind. Very patient. And the camera-man was impressive. He paused me at one point to tell me to powder my face. A Man! Honestly, I was so grateful. I think the only thing worse that a botch video job for all the world to see, would be a botched video job where you were greasy, for all the world to see.

So the worst part of it all, is the knowing. Knowing it is "out there" now. Knowing that I can't take it back, that my grand-kids could run across it one day. Or you. My friends!

So I am begging you. Please don't base the sale of the product on the Video Idiot. The Scraparatus can't help it that I was the dolt pimping it out. Go easy on me, if you ever happen to stumble upon this never-to-be-linked-on-my-blog trainwreck.

I vow to you, that was my first and last production. I am going to stick to the writing and scrapping, thank you very much.

And, in spite of my "sleep like a baby" theory, I am going to spend a few hours (days? months?) re-hashing my blunders and basking in the delights of regret.

got hair?

I have always had a lot of hair, and nothing made me more popular than my hair in the 80's. Give me some pink sponge rollers, a bottle of Aqua Net and a rat-tail comb, and I will instantly grow five, six inches. Of course, in this photo, the hair was swept to the side, courtesy of a banana clip, but it's all miiiine.

This was my Sophomore year. A senior asked me to the prom. One of my first dates. I remember coordinating everything, I had silver pantyhose, and shoes. I really wanted some silver fingerless gloves ala Madonna, and I looked and looked, but could never find them. But... I had turquoise mascara! They sold it at a little dollar store by my house. They also had green and blue, and I think purple mascara. It went on kinda clumpy, and I had to separate my lashes with a safety pin, but MAN! was it worth it for the glam. Heh, heh.

The only thing I remember about the date itself was dinner. All four of us ate at a fancy restaurant up a canyon. We were all young, and un-fancy. I am sure we looked a little like the Clampetts walking in. But we had reservations. Just like adults. The dining area was very dimly lit. It smelled like incense, and there was some type of ethnic music playing. The menu was full of things I had a hard time pronouncing, let alone recognizing in the English language. We ordered. Some time later, they brought our plates out, I wasn't quite sure where the food was. There were some thin strings of vegetables?? And I know I ordered chicken...but....

The girl I doubled with was looking at her plate with the same bewilderment. I think she must have decided that to be safe, she would start with her dinner roll. She picked it up, only to have it glop into her lap. It was mashed potatoes, piped out of a pastry bag, and lightly toasted. I was the only one who saw it happen, and I really had to give her credit for busting that move out, so I gave her the courtesy of not laughing. The rest of the evening went without incident. I do remember all of us singing "Push it" by Salt and Peppa in the car on the way to the dance. 'Cause we were classy like that. Ahhh, the 80's.

Anyway, back to the hair.

I was first lady of the big hair. I don't know if anyone could hold a candle to my big hair. (And please, don't because it would ignite and burst into flame.) I was excited to hear recently that big hair is comin' back. I really think I still have it in me.

I mean, really, when you can master hair that can survive water-skiing.....

tradition

If you have been reading this blog for a while, you will know that I collect weird signs.

My boys went to Moab this weekend with their Dad, which warrants several future blog entries, but I thought it was sweet of my ten year old to make sure a picture was taken of this sign. It's a gem.

Happy Easter, everyone!

random memory

We took a trip to Mexico in 2000. Just Sam and I, along with my mom and dad, but no kids.

Originally we planned on going to Ecuador, where Sam served his LDS mission for two years, but we were flying on stand-by, and the flight filled up. We opted Mexico instead. Since we were planning the Ecuador thing, we packed all of our *needs* for a ten day stay in a back-pack, so we would be free to hop around, and see as much of the Country as we could pack in, in such a short stay. That is how we like to travel, no set itinerary.

It was hard to get everything into a back-pack though. And we had to wash clothes out in the sink with shampoo towards the end of the trip.

So here we were in Mexico, and not the normal Mazatlan or Acapulco. We like the little towns that aren't as well known. Along with the anonymity of the small towns, comes the lack of amenities. We found ourselves staying in 1/2 star hotels.

One of our better hotels had a running water shower. My parents stayed next to us. The rooms were clean, and had wooden slats instead of windows to let the cool(?) night air in. The next morning I woke up, and turned the shower on. The shower faucet was marked with what looked like permanent marker on the tile, a giant letter "C." I turned it all the way on, the opposite direction of the marked "C" for "cold", which should have been "A" for "arctic." The water was frigid! I waited, thinking that maybe everyone in the little complex had used up the supply.....waited, still nothing. We were anxious to get going, so I finally resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to shower in that cold water.

Showering in cold water does nothing more that allow you the bragging right of "Hey, I showered this morning." Because we all know that all cold water does to that tropical humidity grease, is solidify it where it sits. Much like putting fried bacon in the fridge. Not to mention the instant headache you get, when your scalp tries to escape the cold water by shrinking and embedding itself into your skull. So I did the best I could (and in record time!) and got dressed and ready.

We met in my mom and dad's room.

My mom was humming, and putting her makeup on, hair washed and pulled up in a ponytail. "Hey, mom, how'd you like the cold shower?"
"Mine was hot."
What?
Come to find out, in Mexico, "C" is NOT for cold. It is for CALIENTE, spanish for "hot."

I took that cold shower for NADA. (Spanish for "nothing") Estupido!

So I notice this morning, in our new shower, the kind and wise folks at Moen solved the whole language barrier/good hot shower thing.
No "C's".
Just a nice snowflake or sun icon.

I think everyone can get that. And hot showers for all!

a blast from my past

I ran across some old photos yesterday.

This was one that was taken when Sam and I got engaged. We didn't use it, for obvious reasons...it was one of the "extra" poses.

I just wanted to point out some goodies.

The year was 1994. We both drove Geo Storms, his green, mine red. Once we swapped cars, so everyone at my work would think I painted mine....wasn't that silly? (eyeroll)

Hunter green was big. So were florals. We thought we were pretty cool to incorporate both.

In our first apartment we had a big framed photo of another pose, of this same shoot hanging over the couch. The couch was floral, and we had a hunter green striped pillow on the couch. It's alllll in the details, folks.

I believe we were both wearing Girbaud jeans.

Pretty sweet earrings. Wish I still had them, I could probably hurl them at the neighbors barking dog and get some results.

The pose looks pretty natural, no? That dreamy vignette...and what are we looking at? Gazing into our promising future together....five kids, and a guinea pig, and a house in the suburbs of Utah.

Pretty sweet.

YAY!

So, I tried on some of my capri's from last summer, and they nearly drowned me!
Looks like the gym is PAYIN' OFF baby!






































April Fools.
Geez, people. It's Cadbury Mini-Eggs Season. You should have never fallen for that.

i use sarcasm. a lot.

I was not able to share my altered projects just yet, so I dug up an oldie for you. This was created for a magazine call for Paper Crafted Mother's Day presents. And since it is nearing upon Mother's Day, I thought maybe a few of you would like some inspiration.

Sadly, the magazine didn't publish it??!

And to clarify, some of you have e-mailed and expressed concern over my hinting at scrapping in the nude. Concern about stray brads, or embossing gun burns. Please, people.
I barely shower in the nude, and I always, always, take my contacts OUT if I am going to be passing a mirror on the way to the shower.

Scrapping in the nude....well, that's just crazy talk.

I would at least wear a paper-crafted-acid-free-altered something.

more? yes?

I have been up to my eyeballs in projects.

I just finished up ten layouts, with supply lists and instructions for one of my manufacturers. They will be on the Hobby Lobby website. (Don't walk.....RUN!!! heh, heh)

I am now working on six...yes, six ALTERED PROJECTS for another manufacturer. I hate altering things! There. I said it. I don't mind working on them, I just don't know what to do with them when I get them back. They just seem like such a waste to me...I don't care for cutesy, hand-crafted home decor. I did the whole tole painting thing in the early 90's. I guess they make good grandma gifts, eh?

So I am working with some mock-ups. Mock-ups are when the manufacturer does not have the actual material yet, because it is still being manufactured, but they still need display items made using the materials, so the designer gets computer printouts, and has to hand-cut the stickers or in this case, chipboard. It is a pain, but part of the job. I never thought I would appreciate stickers, though, and working with mock-ups makes you do just that.

I am exacto-ing some chipboard, and waiting for mod-podge to dry on another project. I have been hunched over my cutting mat for a while, and I sit up to stretch my back, and hear this faint ripping sound....

It looks like I mod-podged my boob to the counter.

I need to clarify, I was wearing a shirt...I don't often scrap in the nude.

Needless to say, my studio is a pit, there is mod-podge everywhere, and scraps, and empty water bottles, where Mountain Dew cans used to reside. As soon as I find out *if* I can share these projects, I will post them. Until then, I am leaving you with more Reagan and Reese. And maybe I can think of something witty to blog about tomorrow.

meet reagan and reese.

I got to shoot my friend Kathy's newborn twins today. Aren't they cute little turkeys? These were a few of my favorite shots. Off to get some housework done. It stinks in the kitchen. Happy Saturday!

In shape.

Remember when I decided to get back on the whole weight loss campaign....and with the nice weather and all, I took all the kids down to the local high school outdoor track...they played, while I ran.

I was doing pretty good, I mean, I tasted blood, but my lungs weren't on fire, you know. Then my seven year old matched pace with me, and told me he wanted to run with me.

Remember how he lapped me?

Wearing his flip-flops.

Two posts in one day--a record for me.

Drum roll please......

Here is my scraproom!

You can see that it is completely without any wall decoration or theme, but it happens to be clean right now, so I thought I had better snap some photos, and honestly, if I got around to hanging wall knick-knacks and crap, I think it would look gobby and overwhelming.

My favorite parts are the flooring, the slatwall, the antique doorknob I use to hang my Karen Foster apron (which was the inspiration for the wall color) and the Expedit shelves. There is an actual, designated place for all my crap, I love that. That I can clean up in a hurry. Or not clean up at all....cause it does have a door.

So Cute.

I know I have mentioned before just how lucky I am to work with such good people in the scrapbooking industry.

I went to a crop this last Saturday at the Bo Bunny offices. Those girls put in so much effort for the crop, every detail was just perfect. It was a combined meeting/crop, and we were able to give input on the new product that will be coming out. I am especially excited for a particular tool...

They brought in Cafe Rio for dinner (my favorite) and provided snacks and drinks, as well as kits to scrap with. I finished TWO (2!!) 6x6 mini-albums that I am going to be giving for gifts, can't say too much because the recipients of said albums occasionally read the blog. Did I mention Lori, from Bo Bunny even made a fancy-schmancy cupcake tower ala Martha Stewart?! I was impressed!

Everyone who attended the crop was given one of the pictured Egg Jars. I can't even tell you how happy this jar makes me. It is big. Like milk-jug big, and the eggs *were* full of candy, until my field-rat children sniffed out the sugar and emptied them all.

I have the jar sitting in my living room, in my entry way, and sometimes during the day I go in there just to look at it. I think it makes me happy because I never keep frivolous, pretty things for myself. I usually make this stuff, and give it away.

I think of the thoughtfulness of those Bo Bunny girls, about the attention to detail, and going the extra mile...how important it made me feel. And I was thinking about all the opportunities I have in my life to make that kind of impression. About the birthday gifts that I quickly shove in a bag, no tissue, no card. About the school lunches I pack everyday for the kids, how hard would it be to make and tuck in a little note from the ROOM FULL of scraps that I own? The cookies I bake, I could always spare a plateful for a neighbor.

That is my goal for the year. To look for ways to make someone happy. Anyone else want to play?

spoiled.

I would like to know, at what point did kids get so lazy, that they didn't even want to bother with sitting down on the sidewalk to play with sidewalk chalk.

Did you know they have Sidewalk PAINT SPRAYERS now? For that budding graffiti artist. And that rake claw thing? What is that?

When I was growing up, they didn't have sidewalk chalk. We sometimes used regular chalkboard chalk. And then my mom got mad at us and told us it was wasteful, and that she would never buy us chalk for our chalkboard again if we wasted it outside. I think a box of chalk set us back about 25 cents back then.

So I think we used rocks or our own blood.

growing up

Mikayla and I spend a lot of time together. The kids are in school all day, and Sam is gone to work, (or to golf) and it leaves us two. We have some silly rituals we have adopted over the past three years we have been SAHM/SAHT together. We are much like two spinsters living in the same house, each adjusting her own agenda to the other.

One of my favorite rituals is our "Restings."

In the early days, verbally pleading "let's go take a nap" was offensive to a toddler. She didn't neeeeeed a nap. She wasn't tiiiired. But, when I merely suggested, " Hey, let's go take a little rest" that was fine. Rest implies no sleeping involved, hence no time wasted that could be used for other things, like taking the Crayolas to the blank canvas of the entertainment center.

Thus, our "Restings" began.

The first time she readily accept the offer, I was giddy. My sleep-deprived eye twitch had evolved into a full-fledged ocular seizure, that even with the distance from the porch to the mailbox, the mailman thought I was flirting, what with my constant winking. I was ready for a rest. A good old-fashioned three hour coma.

So we chose some books to read. Three. Three is always the number we choose. And the shorter the better. She has her favorites, and when I am really tired, I let her read them to me.

Books chosen, we tucked ourselves into a quilt on my bed. I was so crazy happy from the possibility of uninterrupted sleep, I grabbed her head, and touched her forehead to mine, and spontaneously cackled. Like a mental patient. It came out before I could stop it, like a taco belch.

Mikayla was stunned. I think it was a mix of fear, and curiosity. Who is this lady? Is she going to eat my face? Do I share the same genes? I had to turn it into a game... I laughed again, a silly high-pitched giggle. Then she relaxed, and joined me. Then we laughed a few more times, successfully masking a potentially embarrassing future counseling session.

We read, and after the third story, I told her to close her eyes and rest. And it actually worked! We napped for a couple of glorious hours.

The next day, I suggested another "resting" she picked some books, and settled in. She grabbed my cheeks with her pudgy fingers and said, "Mommy, let's do our laughings."

And so it continued.

Some days, I wait until she falls asleep, and then I quietly sneek away and catch up on housework, listening to the silence. I love the time we spend together, sometimes it is the only time I sit still long enough to enjoy her.

Today, I snuggled next to her with the usual books. I started reading the first familiar book.

"Oh, dang it, Mikayla, we forgot to do our laughings" I said, pulling her face in close to mine.

"Mom. I stopped liking that."

And so it ends.

Dear Mountain Dew-

It pains me to write this, but I feel that we have come to a point in our relationship where I must let go and move on.

The times we have shared are some of my fondest memories: the first tall icy glass in the hospital minutes after giving birth, the time when I laughed so hard you came spewing out of my nose, that all too brief summer when 7-11 re-invented you into a Slurpee...

I will always miss you. Nothing will complement my Chinese food more than you. I am not sure how I will survive my SAHM afternoons without your selfless yet vital shot of caffeine. I know that road-trips, crops, and long holiday parties at the in-laws will never be the same.

But alas, our time must come to an end.

Since our relationship went from being casual friends, to passionately committed partners, I have gained weight. You never minded, and that I will always appreciate. But I need to be with someone who will help me be better, and healthier.

It's not you....it's me.

Well, I guess it's a little you. You see, the final straw was your new hobby. I was patient the first time you crystallized and deposited yourself into my kidneys. I forgave you. But this time....

You know how the saying goes...."Once, shame on you, twice shame on me." Well, Dew, I guess I am tired of being shamed. My kidneys can't take being a rock tumbler.

I am sorry, I really, really am. I hope you understand.


Affectionately Yours,
Shaunte

No photo attached.

Have you ever sat down in say.....longer grass, or thick carpet, or even a plush couch....and then you get up, and look at your a$$-print, and think..."Whoa."

And then you fight the urge to go over and "erase" it with your hands, cause you know you are being irrational...but still....

That's motivation to go to the gym, right there.

Two Words.

Kidney Stones.

I had some two years ago. I had forgotten the misery, until it started up again.

Much like when you forget labor pains, and remember it wasn't so bad....until it all comes back to you in full detail when it is happening again.

I am not going to call this batch the generic title of"Stones". I am quite sure they are crystallized Mountain Dew. For two years I have been tanking the caffeine, blissfully unaware of the growing concentrated masses I was creating.

Now angry and barb-like, they float in my bladder and stick in my kidneys.

Time to become BFF with water. And cranberries.

PSA

Just so you know, eating these....even one or two, will make your breath smell like BUTT for at least two days afterwards.

It's all gooooood now.

So the Macrobid (Nitrofurantin) the doctor put me on was a trip.

The first night I was on it, I was lucky enough to be one of the rare folks who have a bad reaction. Was up all night with a high fever, cold sweaty chills, and nausea. That horrid nausea that whenever Sam would roll over in bed, It caused those stabbing pains and would make me almost hurl...from the slightest movement.

The next morning I was just wiped out, and super wenchy from no sleep. (Sorry family)

So the next night, I was sooooo tired, and gave into a drug-induced sleep early, and dreamt all night of make-out sessions with all the hot guys from Mortal Kombat.

Thank you Macrobid.

Ten Random Things

I feel guilty from the blog neglect, so here are a quick random ten to catch you up on life here in the Wadley Asylum.

1- Without too many gucky details, lets just say that I am drinking a lot of cranberry juice today....
2- Got my order from dollarscrapbooking.net, such awesome deals for a buck?! And they charged actual shipping, kept it cheap.
3- Been jealous of Britney Spears. Seriously. Can you imagine how liberating it would be to shave your hair off?
4- Remember how I am a Cub Scout Master? Been planning our Blue and Gold Banquet, which is Wednesday. I will be glad to have that behind me...
5- Been sloooooowly learning my iMac, typing on it now, in fact. So many things are frusterating, I just need patience. And caffeine.
6- Enjoying my crocuses! Faint glimmer of hope that warmer weather is coming...
7- Recently discovered "My Name is Earl." Sam and I watched season one on DVD, in increments, while sitting in the jetted tub. This could explain #1.
8- Had a couple of things published this week. I get excited every time. That part of this hobby never gets old.
9- Paid off our dentist bill! YAY! Just in time to schedule everyone for another check-up.
10- Cropped friday night AND saturday night with friends. Did I get a lot done? No. But I laughed and ate snacks and drank myself silly on Mountain Dew. Which again, #1 is not looking so surprising.

Seeing double.

I got an e-mail from my baby sister tonight, with photos from her ultrasound....I immediately saw the two sacks in her belly! I am going to be the aunt to TWINS in August. It will be her first (and second), and she and her hubby are both so excited, and up to the challenge I think.

Obviously they learned nothing from tending my kids for me. Guys, you know how this happened don't you? Well? Shay, we had "the talk." Did my kids not scare you off?

So apparently twins run in our family. My Shayne and Shianne will be eight this year. I still remember the day I found out we were expecting a small litter.

The doctor was in the middle of my ultrasound, he was panning around, making organs out of blurry blobs with the traditional running commentary:

Doctor: "....and here are the pancreas, they look great, and you can see the liver...."

Me: nodding, and pretending that I can see what he is pointing at, and pretending that I know what a pancreas is..

Doctor: "...and here is the heart, both chambers look good...."

Me: ...ooooo, I SEE that! excited, cause I really could see it, cause it was beating!

Me: feeling confident from being able to make sense of a gray splotch..."Hey you better check and see if there are two in there"....snicker, snicker

Doctor: Panning over, runs right into another embryo..."Oh yes, there are two", and continues with the same measuring.

Me: thinking the doctor was just being silly, but he was writing the fake measurements down on the chart....??

me<----panic! What? Two?

Sam: "Wow, that looks really real!"

Doctor: "Well, this IS the live production."

Me: !

Doctor: turning with alarm at my chalk white face "Didn't you know you were having twins?"

Us: "No." (!!)

Doctor: snickering now... "Well, congrats, it looks like you dropped two eggs this time!"

Me: mind racing.....where are we going to fit two more car seats, we need another crib, I am going to get huge, do I need to take two prenatal vitamins now, where can we fit two cribs, we are going to have FOUR KIDS IN DIAPERS, I am going to need mental help.....

Sam: Oh yeahhhhh, I can fertilize anything!

And all too soon, they came. Just shy of 36 weeks, healthy and pink, and I could breathe again!

We had some sleepless nights, where Sam and I would each take a baby, and sit in our bed and talk while the babies ate. We laughed a lot, cause things are pretty funny at 3:00 am. Life was a drunken blur, but without the alcohol.

I remember paying through the nose for preemie diapers. Spending a fortune on formula. Searching in vain for socks that would actually stay on those little chicken legs. Trying to go places by myself with a three year old, an eighteen month old, and two newborn infants in bulky car seats.

Things were hard at times, but the good outweighed the bad. I would do it all again. Sometimes, I wish I could do it all again. I would enjoy it more, and hold those little babies more.

On the other hand, I might shoot myself.

So Shay and Rob, I know you sometimes pop in on my blog...I am so thrilled for you! Enjoy every little minute. Such a miracle, and a fleeting one at that.

And if you have need of a sitter, I know a willing and very experienced one...

Grandma Kathy.

I'm Big in Japan.

Okay, not Japan, but the UK at least. And I don't know if *big* is the word, really.

I was honoured to be asked to do a featured project for the British scrapbook magazine "Scrapbook Inspirations" http://www.scrapbookinspirationsmagazine.co.uk/

I have a couple projects, a headshot, and a designer biography. I haven't seen it yet, and they may just recieve the projects and call them "rubbish" and flush them down the loo. Colour me silly....I am still going to claim to be big in the UK.

And my mum will be proud.

Happy V-day to me.

Sam got me the coolest Valentines gift.

It was a 'Love Pearl." I don't know who named it, cause the name is cheesy.

From the box:

"God creates Woman and pearl as well

Pearl is gestated with its matrix clam

which is like the brilliant experience of a woman

True love gestated"

-Made in China (I think something got lost in translation, cause I have no clue what that means)

It was a box, with a necklace. The necklace has a cage pendant, and inside the box with the necklace was this sardine-looking pull-tab can. You open the can, and inside is this clam, floating in some stinky brine. You make a wish, and pry open the pearl (the box included a plastic pry-bar that I found after I used my nails). When you free the pearl from the clam, it slips inside the cage pendant on the necklace. There are different colors of pearls inside of the clams. Kinda the luck of the draw on what you get. There are:

White--for Health

Cream--for Happiness

Peach--For Love

Lavender--for Wisdom

Gold--for Wealth

Non-discriminant Beige--for You Have Been a Jerk to your Husband on your Blog and Don't Deserve this Gift.

I bet you can guess what color I got? No?

We made up.

Sam and I are good now.

Thanks for the support and e-mails, I think more than anything, sometimes a girl needs to just vent, and honestly, I felt a whole lot better simply by typing it all out and sending it off into cyberspace.

He got a lot of ends tied up around the house yesterday, leftover crud from our remodel...installed all the door-knobs, took a load of misc. board and siding remnants that cluttered the yard, picked up the countertops....

I think that maybe, it was all the unfinished-ness that made me crack.

Also, I may be PMSing.

Anyway, for clarification purposes, I still love the guy. I would hate the thoughts of training a new one. Besides, not very many men out there would put up with all of my quirks.

Happy Birthday Brendan!

Nine years ago today, I was in the recovery room at American Fork Hospital just after a scheduled c-section. Still numb, a little queasy, but emotionally overwhelmed and humbled at the perfect 7 pound miracle placed into our lives.

A middle child, of sorts, born just 18 months after his older brother, and followed up 17 months later by a set of twins. Brendan has always been a little ignored, only because he has never been demanding, which makes a mothers heart break, looking back at the irony.

A little accident prone, but an awesome off-the-wall sense of humor. I love this kid! Such a blessing and a joy.

pity party inside

No one in this house does anything without being asked.

Several, several times.

I am curious. Can it be that I am the only one who sees the constant mess? Or smells the dirty laundry? Am I the only one trained in toilet flushing? Am I the only one certified in empty milk jug disposal?

This is not the life I had envisioned for myself. Being a butler, maid, floor scrubber, stuffed animal seamstress, coupon clipper, events coordinator, stain fighter, short order cook, chauffeur, lost treasure finder, referee, hair-dresser, minor ailment diagnostic technician, gift purchasing agent, and general doormat leaves me rather tired.

All the time.

I have long given up on the parasitic vermin that Sam calls "our children".

I guess I am just feeling sorry for myself, cause I am married, and I am supposed to have a 50/50 partner in this whole parenting thing, and man, *someone* is coming up pretty dad-gum short lately. I am pretty safe venting here, since reading this blog would actually require him to care enough about what I was thinking and how I felt to actually google my name.


You want some examples? Oh, okay....let me think for about one nano-second, and give you five off the top of my head:

1) The school the kids go to have a special "Dad's and Doughnuts Day" where the Dads come to school, hang out in the lunchroom reading books with the kids for about 30 minutes. Then they all get a doughnut, and the Dad's are heroes, and the kids talk about that magical afternoon for months afterwards. They *used* to have a "Mom's and Munchies Day" where the Mom's got to come, and work on MATH PROBLEMS (<----yeah, I am shouting here) but due to budgetary issues, we don't even get to do that. Off subject here....
So, needless to day, this week was one of the Dad's and doughnuts days. I posted the flyer on the fridge...and the day of, that particular child mentioned how great it was going to be to have Dad come to school. Guess who gets yelled at?
Me.
"It sure would have been nice to have been told that this was coming up..."
Well.....
It sure would be nice for you to: help with homework, go pick up puke boy from the office, make an appearance at the awards assembly, pull a visual aid book report out of your butt the night before it was due, drag five kids to the store to pick Valentines, put together four gift baskets for teacher appreciation day, oh, and take care of the monthly bulletin board in the foyer of the school. Then, maybe, just maybe you would KNOW when your one measly day was for you to inconvenience yourself and go pig out on a doughnut.


2) Being ornery at the grocery store doesn't make us spend less or need less food. It just makes me mad. At you. I hate it there too. In fact, I hate it worse, cause everything that goes in that cart represents more work for me. Laundry items. Food. Cleaning supplies. More food. I would rather not go to the store at all, but last time I sent you there alone, you came home with Twinkies and a Four-Wheeler magazine. Not a lot there to raise healthy kids on.


3) When I call you at work to tell you the kids are sucking the life out of me, because once again they have used all the blankets and chairs in the house to make a field of M*A*S*H units, do not tell me that I need to spend more time with them, and enjoy their creativity. This being said, while you are AWAY with other ADULTS feasting upon conversation that doesn't include Pokemon.


4) It's a hamper. Use it.


5) And that annoying buzzing sound? It's the dryer. It's where *magically* clean clothes are dispensed. Clothes that need to be folded, and put away.
By me. And me only.
I fear that with my heart condition and my caffeine levels, if anyone else took care of that job I would plain old kill over from the sheer shock.


Don't even get me started on the whole home remodel honey-do list.


Man, it's a good thing Valentines Day is coming up. A day for me to express my unbridled passion and deep appreciation for the man I fell in love with and married...and want to spend the rest of my life with.


I am thinking of a lot of really great gifts....

finding inspiration

Another layout challenge. Me and my scrappin' friend Laura are trying new things! Go us! The challenge this time was to use an advertisement from a magazine to get inspiration. Here is mine:

I like how it turned out, and it was a lot easier to look at something...than to pull a whole design out of my butt. I am thinking I need to try this more often.

And speaking of finding unexpected inspiration, I painted my new studio. I got a package from Karen Foster Design, that contained a very cool new scrap apron: and since Laura hasn't taught me yet how to link all fancy, you get this:

http://www.karenfosterdesign.com/tek9.asp?pg=products&specific=jneqrpose&grp=720

to see the cool apron. I loved the color. It reminds me of swimming pools and white beaches. I took the whole apron to the paint place and had them match it. (Just the blue part;)) It came out being a color named "Sea Turtle." Better than Cat Piss....

We picked up some slat wall today, and as soon as I provide Sam with enough *ahem* "marital motivation" and the slat wall gets installed, I will post some pictures of the studio.

I am off to find food for the children!

this post doesn't deserve a title

I hate vacuuming stairs. <---and is that how you spell vacuuming? Vaccuming...vacuming...it doesn't look right. Makes me hate it even more, cause it's spelled stupid.

new layouts

Before I commence into the Saturday cleaning frenzy, I thought I would post my projects I did last night. Some new Polar Bear Press stuff, which I have about a billion pictures to match with the new colors. Very inspiring....and a layout I did for a monochromatic challenge laid forth my by friend Laura. I had fun with Photoshop, changing the photos to the blue color.

Happy Saturday!

I'm home.

You didn't know I was gone, did you?

Sam won a truck on auction, and we decided to fly out Monday night to pick it up. This, we decided at about 2:00, with the flight leaving at 5:45. So we busted hump, cleaning house, arranging sitters, packing, banking, re-scheduling. Made the flight, landed in Texas at 7:45.

We stayed overnight in a hotel, rented a super-compact car, and drove out to the auction site.

We got the paperwork, and they sent us out to the yard. This auction site buys cars from insurance companies that have been theft-recovered, wrecked, flooded or otherwise damaged. They try to be specific about the "injuries" sustained to the vehicle, but I guess it is always a little bit of a crap-shoot.

Our truck was a theft recovery that was supposed to be drivable. So, we show up at the lot, hand the man our paperwork, and he says "where is your tow-truck."
Ugh. All of a sudden it hits me. We are idiots. The magnitude of our adventure hits us both. We flew to Texas to drive home a vehicle, to Utah, 1100 miles away, and we have no idea what is wrong with it.

It is as if we fed $3000.00 into a vending machine with no buttons, and hope for the best.

We told the gate man it was supposed to be drivable. He nodded at us (good luck, my naive friends) and told us the fork lift would bring the truck to us. Fork lift?

Oh yes, a big fork lift. Scooped up the truck, and literally dumped it in the crunchy gravel at our feet. Then, like the morning fog, he was gone. Everyone was gone. It was me and Sam, and our rental skate and our new truck.

She had no windows on the passenger or drivers side, just some opaque plastic and some thick tape. There was no radio, in fact, there wasn't much of a dashboard. The tail-lights were questionable. But the gauges worked, we think.

Tentatively Sam got in, and as luck would have it, she started....there was hope.

I followed Sam back to the rental car place. About half-way there, he punched his fists through the plastic taping up the windows. That was when he first noticed how bad that truck smelled. I think a whole family, nay, a HERD of tom cats had nested inside the truck. It smelled so strong of cat urine. Sam dubbed her "Cat-Piss."

We really had some guardian angels looking out for us. The rental car agency shared the same building with an auto body shop. I got a recommendation for glass replacement. And the glass boy happened to be coming to the shop for another repair anyway, and loaded our windows on the truck. He came, and took the keys, and Cat-Piss, and took her around to the bay to install the windows. He had been gone for about 45 minutes, when I realized that our truck was gone. We were sitting in an auto body shop, in Texas. Stranded. For all we knew, they painted it a different color, and drove it across the border to sell in Mexico!
"Sam, go check!!!!" <----me panicking!

He went out to look, and lo and behold, they were done! CP had working windows!

Nothing was stopping us now. I sprayed CP out with some industrial deodorizer I found in the auto body bathroom. (It didn't help much.) And off we went. First stop: Gas Station. Sam checks all the fluids. (good-check) Airs up the tires. (good-check) and fills 'er up. Problem. The nozzle is in the hole, but the gas is streaming on the cement. The fuel line had been cut.

Off to the auto parts place, where Sam splices the fuel line. We also bought some Little Tree air fresheners.

CP turns out to be a great vehicle! She runs like a champ! In spite of the little glitches, and the smell, we consider ourselves pretty lucky about the whole deal.

Now, the exciting part.

You know I have the new scrapbook studio. And crucial to my organizing of the joint is an IKEA Expedit shelf unit. Do we have an IKEA by me? No. The closest one is in Arizona. However....as fate would have it, AZ is on the way home from TX. Sort-of. So I Map-Quested our route, and included a stop in Tempe.

And I got it. I HAVE THE EXPEDIT! We loaded it in the back of CP, tarped it over, drove through the blizzards of Flagstaff, the rains of Page, and the canyons of southern Utah.

It is a thing of beauty and worth the nose-bleeds of breathing vanilla-roma cat-urine for 15 hours.

Bad Karma House.

So, this whole remodel thing....wait! Don't leave! I know you are sick of hearing about my house, but really, this is a quick one....and, I will offer up a good crock-pot recipe at the end. Good?

Sam and I have been quite concerned that we may have built our home on an ancient burial ground, and somehow, those souls were okay with us having the modest home of seven months ago, but adding another addition, well....it angered them.

Things have gone wrong. Starting with the snapping of the cable, and the near-death of my husband and dad. That was a big one. And then there have been little things. Many, many little things:

Like the leaking roof that flooded the entire kitchen, twice.
Like our siding not being manufactured in our color any longer.
Like the drywall dragging on and on, the workers feuding with their boss.
Like the drywall supplier leining our house because the installers didn't pay the bill.
Like the electrical, that would blow a fuse everytime we used the microwave.
Like the shower ceiling not ordered, then broken and re-run, and then cut wrong and re-run....that is still not installed.

And more recently, the jetted tub.

We bought it online, it was delivered (while we were out of town, and left in the yard). Anyway, it was installed. A week and a half ago, it was encased in marble. Beautiful swirled white marble with granite black trim.

Two nights ago, Sam decided we were tired of waiting for the plumber, who we have been calling for three weeks to come do the finish plumbing. Sam thinks, "how hard can this be." Off we go to Lowe's to grab a tub fixture. We browse, we read, we price things, and settle on your run-of-the-mill chrome handle/nozzle combo. He brings it home, and attempts to attach it. Nothing matches up. So, we do a little reading online, and figure out that tub fixtures are NOT compatible. Meaning, we have no choice but to purchase the brand of fixture that was roughed in when the tub was installed. I am crapping here, because the brand that our tub happens to be, is the most expensive brand of fixture out there. I REFUSE to pay $350.00 for a farking tap. I would rather rig one out of cardboard and washers. Again, the plumber will not return our calls to verify the brand. Finally we find out the brand that it was roughed in with. Lucky for us, it was a cheaper brand. So, we buy the tap and handles, and Sam goes to work.

He is pretty handy, and I guess it wasn't that hard. I left when he needed to use a hack-saw. That made me a tad nervous. He got it hooked up, and it actually worked!

It was a thing of beauty. The glint of the chrome under the can light, the warm water cascading into the tub, the steam gently rising up...the jets...NOT WORKING?

Yep. Nothing.

Sam checked the electrical panel. Everything was a go. Called the electrician (who answered, btw) he came over and checked everything out.

Come to find out...the GFI breaker needed to be re-set upon installation. Easy enough....except for the fact that it was installed UNDERNEATH THE TUB, that was now caulked into custom marble.

Long(er) story short, we had to cut a hole in the wall to access the GFI outlet. Pushed the button, and the jets sputtered to life.

Once again, victory over the spirits!

In celebration, we have taken 9 baths...and counting...

Oh yeah, since I spend all my time in the jetted tub now, dinner has been crock-pot delights. Or anything that doesn't require the microwave/breaker box.

We all really liked this one...even my picky eater.

Crock-Pot Enchiladas
2lbs ground beef
1 large onion
1 (20 oz) can enchilada sauce
1 (8 oz) can tomato sauce
4-5 c. cheese
1-1 1/2 pkg corn tortillas
1 can green chilies

Brown beef with onion. Add half can of enchilada sauce and can of chilies. Mix well. Spray bottom of slow cooker. Pour enchilada sauce to cover bottom of cooker. Being layering tortillas, meat mixture and cheese until ingredients run out. Pour remaining enchilada sauce, and tomato sauce over the top. Cook on low 3-4 hours. Serve on a pile of shredded lettuce.

TAG!!!
"According to the rules... Each player of this game starts with the "6 Weird Things about Me".(about yourself)...People who get tagged need to write a entry of their own 6 weird things on their own blog, as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says 'you are tagged' in their comments and tell them to read your blog!"

Thanks a lot, Peg. This reminds me of those chain letters. But you forgot to add that if I don't respond to this within 10 hours, my house will burn down, and my left breast will fall off. I can't believe I am even participating, but I have nothing better going on, unless you count unloading the dishwasher.

Six Weird Things About Me

(1) I have a dent in my head. I was playing on some railing, and fell, landing on my head....it left a dent. And it explains a lot of other things too.
(2) I can drink non-carbonated beverages through my nose. Possibly carbonated as well, although I am quite sure that it would sting.
(3) I can't eat blue things. It freaks me out to think of my mouth and teeth stained odd colors.
(4) I am very proficient with my toes. I can pick things up, or turn on the TV. They are like fingers. Totally grosses out...well, pretty much everyone.
(5) I got my first cavity when I was 28.
(6) I always lick my fingers when I open or close the blinds. Maybe subconsciously I think it gives me better "grip" on the blind-wand thingies.

I will be tagging: Laura, Shantay, Debbie, Jennifer, Amy, and Mimi.

Almost finished.

So, the cabinets are all installed as of twenty minutes ago! Makes everything look a little smaller, but like a house....a real house that people can live in. People that no longer have to rifle through cardboard boxes for their underwear. No, there aren't counter-tops yet, but the measuring guy is coming Monday. We like to drag projects out for as long as we possibly can. Keepin' the remodeling spirit alive.

This is a sneak peek of the Maternity line that Karen Foster is releasing at CHA. That is my darling friend Heather, who was 8 1/2 months pregnant here. How would that be? To be that cute when you are pregnant. I certainly wasn't that cute. I think my belly now is bigger than hers was in that photo. I don't know why I 'fessed up to that. I should have just let you all think that it is me in the picture. But Heather reads this blog... Hi Heather! Thanks for letting me use the gorgeous photos.

This is from the Karen Foster Nurse line. I have been up to my eyeballs in paper and stickers. I completed 30+ layouts and cards for CHA. I am almost finished! It has been fun. This time around it has been especially fun, because my good friend Wendy Inman is on the Karen Foster team with me. We have been IMing back and forth while working with the same lines. What a difference it has made to bounce ideas off of each other.

Man! I love the internet! And Wendy. And bacon.

Stop touching my things. (A G-rated post)

Why is it that everything that has any value or importance to me has been chipped, lost or broken by my kids?

I grew up with four sisters, no brothers...which is a whole 'nother post in itself...

My mom loved dolls, still does, and is an avid collector. We grew up getting a doll religiously for Christmas each year. Even as a teenager, and not really wanting the annual vinyl baby, I still got one.

Mom took a porcelain doll-making class. I think she really loved it, and did a good job on the babies. She was meticulous about painting the eye-lashes perfectly, and making the brush strokes curl around the temples like the sleep dampened hair of a real newborn. She made a doll for each of her girls. They were big baby-dolls, and they were sized perfectly to fit the little dresses we each wore on our blessing day. I loved this doll! It was a cherished keepsake.

Did you notice I said "was?"

When I started popping out kids every nine months...which is a whole 'nother post... I put that doll on the highest shelf in my closet, cause I didn't want to risk it being touched.

My daughter, just shy of four, who was training to be a monkey in the circus...scaled my closet shelves, and pulled on the doll. It came crashing down, hitting every shelf in the closet before landing on the floor. I was too stunned to cry. I couldn't even say anything. I knew it was an accident. I think my expression alone must have been devastating, even for a pesky three year old.

"I sorry, Momma! I so sorry!"

I didn't want to tell my mom, but my daughter did, in her guilt. My mom took it well, because I know she understood. She had us, and I am sure that we all did our share of damage to her special things too.

I stuffed the doll, and the broken pieces back up into the top of the closet, and forgot about them.

Then last week, we moved everything out of our room, to move into the new master bedroom. I found the broken baby again. Shianne was there, and saw me pull it down.

"Oh, Mom...I remember when I broke that special doll. I am so sorry!" And then tears...she cried, and chanted, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Four years later, and she still feels so awful about it. I hugged her and told her it was okay. It was just a "thing." And things break. Little girls hearts, however, break too. And I wish I would have been a little more forgiving that day four years ago.

The question still remains...Why me? Why not Sam's stupid bird statue he bought in Ecuador? Why don't the kids break their own things?

I think that next time I get something valuable, that I love, I am going to call all the kids together and let them watch ME stab it with an ice pick, like a crazy lady.

"HA, HAAAAA! I beat you to it!"

An Idea

I have been working with some themed scrapbook lines from Karen Foster for CHA, and by the way, there are some really fun ones this release. But I was thinking of all the themed lines that have not yet been done by a manufacturer, but should be done....


The Stay at Home Mom Line:
Soft heather gray color (think sweat pants), with a subtle collage of the words “Not caring is FUN!” Sticker sheet that includes “What Was I Thinking” “Prozac Rocks” “Pizza Again” and shaped brads including a pony-tail, a mini-van, and diaper-wipes.


The Expletives Line:
Bright, albeit clashing colors. Colorful words, used for any occasion. Chipboard characters that contain a whole lot of @&#% and extra !!!!


The Extended Family Line:
Stickers that include: “My mother-in-law can BITE ME” “My Sister Married a Moron” and “Your Family Parties Suck.” This line should match the expletives line, just for good measure.


The Ex-Spouse Line:
Which apparently would sell out according to the latest threads on 2ps. Stickers would include “You rotten...(insert sticker from Expletives line) “See You in Court” and “eBaying Your Stuff Bought Me Some Nice Jewelry.” Coordinating epoxy brad toppers that say “Got Alimony?”


The Couch Potato Line:
Reminiscent of Cheetos and stale farts. This line would include a patterned paper with a TiVo menu collage, a remote control montage, and a random collage of info-mercial advertisements. Stickers would include “3 Easy Payments of $19.95” “I Heart Mindless Drivel” and “Practicing Selective Hearing.” Epoxy brads toppers with a photo of my husband, and all my boys.


The Weight Gain line:
I can see this one being hot. Especially for those vacation photos that are taken by someone else, without your knowledge when you haven't had the opportunity to suck in, or put a kid in front of you. Stickers would include: “Diets Are For Suckers” “Baby NOT on Board” and “Body by Mountain Dew.” Additional embellishments would include a metal “Wide Load” street sign, and a “Cattle Crossing” icon. I would pre-order this one...

Changes.

Holy Chips.


The carpet is coming tomorrow morning. It is after midnight right now. We are tearing up the old carpet in the hall, getting ready for it to come. Maybe its the paint thinner talking...but I feel giddy!


We told the kids that when they get home from school, we can start the arduous process of situating everyone into their new rooms. They were almost as excited about this, as they were for Christmas. It is a good thing we saved the good Martineli's Sparkling Apple Juice from New Years. Gonna be some celebratin' going on here!


As a side note, our Christmas gift from my parents was a keyless entry for the front door. It has a touch-pad, that you can program a number into, and it locks and unlocks your deadbolt from the keypad. It is pretty stinking cool. There is also a key to it, so if you are like me, and can't remember anything, you can still get in and out.


It is cool, too- because we aren't big "lock the door" people. We live in a great neighborhood. We have a watch-guinea pig that would really *weet, weet* the dickens out of an intruder. And frankly, we have never felt like we had anything worth being robbed for. We have often joked that a thief would walk in, look around, feel so sorry for us, that he would leave his own wallet on the counter.


But recently, with the new addition to the home, I feel more invested. We don't own anything new. But, I would actually be angry if someone broke in. What if they scratched the paint? I would have to re-tape! And if they broke a blind, or mucked up the carpet....


Anyway, the lock...it is the novelty of the neighborhood.


"Hey, Jayden; will you go get the mail?"
"Sure!!" (whoosh, beep, beep, beep-beep, beep, beeeeeep...click)


Because apparently, the long walk from the porch to the mailbox requires the deadbolt to be in place...


Pretty soon, all the neighborhood kids are trying it. And then it dawns on me...


"Hey, guys. Did you tell all the kids what the secret number is?"
"Well, yeah, they wanted to try it out."


So much for the whole security thing.

Wanna see?

The floor is installed in my scrap studio. Notice, I changed it from a "Scrap-room" to a "Scrap Studio."

Ooo-la-la.

*That's* got to make me more productive, yes?

Sam and my Dad have two of the three bathrooms TILED. That's right folks. Tiled. And the other bathroom, the backer board is done, meaning the tile will go quickly. I admit, I thought Sam would procrastinate this bad boy for a few weeks, if not months. Pleasantly surprised...and also, it didn't cost me any *special favors* to expedite the process. If you know what I mean.

Carpet is in, calling to schedule an installation date. Odds and ends need to be wrapped up, but I am thinking we should be living in our new space in a couple weeks, if not sooner. (cue Choir of Angels!)

Already life is more liveable.

Of course, we ran out of money for things like furniture and electronics. But we do have blinds, so no one on the street can see us enjoying our new space sitting on the cardboard boxes the bi-fold doors came in.

My morning conversation

Brendan comes in and flops on my bed:

"Good morning, Brendan. Did you have a good night?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Good. Did you find something to eat?"

He crashed and burned early tht night before, while the rest of us stayed up and played "Apples to Apples Junior" and watched "Angels in the Outfield" so, as a result, Brendan was up and going before the rest of us hit our REM sleep. He hung out by himself, waiting for the rest of us slugs to get up.

"Yeah, I had a Hot Pocket."

For breakfast? Whatever.

"So what else have you been doing?"
"Playing with Legos."
"Can you gather up your laundry for me."
"Yeah."
"What are you planning to do today?"
"I wanted to maybe go to Walmart and get some more legos with my Christmas money."
"You need new church shoes too, remind me..."
"Okay"

Walking out the door...

"Oh yeah, Mom..."
"Yeah."
"I flooded the downstairs bathroom this morning, the toilet clogged, and there wasn't a plunger."
"WHAT??!!"
"I think it is still flooding a little..."

With apologies to my male readers...

I need a new bra.

Truth be told. I only have one right now in working condition. The back-up-bra is in sad, sad shape. I hate bra shopping! You can try on 5,000 of the same size, and they all fit differently. There are the ones that squish you together and make you have a uni-boob, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, the kind that separate and place your girls one under each armpit.

Who picks the design? The fabrics... I mean, what good does that thick heavy lace crap do anyone? It is bulky and never looks good under anything. Detachable straps, and detachable push-up pads. Gel filled, water filled, racer back, shoulder pad added straps. And the ones adorned with cheesy flowers or dainty bows....please. Not one that is actually comfortable. Give me helium filled cups, and massaging straps and you would have yourself a bra.

I am not endowed. Which is fine, being the stomach sleeper that I am, but bra shopping is a nightmare. It seems, that to have the circumference I do, what with the coughcoughbackfatcough that I have, my cup size should be a whole lot larger than it really is. This makes the padded cup either dented in, or horribly sagging. Which leaves me the option of going a size smaller to get the right cup size, and therefore being cinched off....all the time.

No wonder I had gallstones.

Happy New Year!

Thank you to Sophia for the Year End blog challenge. Here is mine:

1. What did you do in 2006 that you had never done before? It's funny how God prepares you for things step by step. I did some travelling with Paperkuts magazine before they went under, and at times I had to make a connection, or grab a shuttle all by myself. I was terrified at first, because I am so handicapped when it comes to directions or bearings. I slowly gained confidence. And now, with Sam working for an airline, and our family getting (stand-by) flight benefits, I am okay being stranded in a strange city with my five kids, because I have the confidence now.
2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions and will you make more for 2007? I usually fail pretty miserably. This year, I only have ONE resolution. And I am not telling, or it will surely jinx me.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Yes, my sister Hollie.
4. Did anyone close to you die? Luckily, no.
5. What countries did you visit? Puerto Rico
6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006? A car that is reliable.
7. What date from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? The day we took our roof off of our house to add another level. It was a day I witnessed a miracle. By all rights, it should have killed my husband and my dad.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? I had a lot of little ones, nothing stands out specifically.
9. What was your biggest struggle? Weight. Balance. Peace. Patience.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Small normal illnesses, stomach bugs and colds. Pulled *something* in my knee while running, that occasionally bothers me still.
11. What was the best thing you bought? My camera lens (Canon 28-135), my iMac, my iPod.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration? I think my daughter, Shianne. She struggled this year with self-esteem issues earlier this year, I really worried about her. With daily praise and extra love, and finding things for her to be *good* at, she really blossomed.
13. Whose behavior appalled you? No one comes to mind here.
14. Where did most of your money go? To the new addition to the house. To vacations. To Pepsi-Cola.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about this year? The UPS man making such fun deliveries from my design teams. That never, never, never gets old.
16. What song will always remind you of 2006? "You had a bad day."--Daniel Powter. They sooo overplayed that sucker on American Idol, and on the radio. And my kids would sing it to me on the days when I was "cracking" it make me laugh in spite of being so mad at them.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you: much happier, nicer or richer? I think I am waaaay better looking. But I guess that wasn't a category.
18. What do you wish you had done more of? Acknowledging kindness. Exercise. Playing with the kids.
19. What do you wish you had done less of? Over-eating, spending time on the computer.
20. Did you fall in love in 2006? On a daily basis. When my kids are good. When my husband is helpful. When the cookies are warm from the oven.
21. What was your favorite TV program? American Idol and "How It's Made."
22. What was the best book you read this year? Gosh, I haven't read a lot this year. And I forget things almost *right after* I read them anyway.
23. What was your greatest musical discovery? Josh Groban. (<---don't judge me)
24. What did you want and get? My iPod, Sam bought it for me, for my birthday.
25. What was your favorite film of the year? Pirates II, Nacho Libre, Cars, good family movies we watch over and over as a family. (Translated: the kids watch, I scrap without guilt.)
26. What did you do on your birthday and how old did you turn? I spend the morning at a scrapbook focus group (lots of fun!) and the afternoon shopping. Ate lunch at Cafe Rio (Pork Salad) and that evening went out with Sam, watched a movie (I forget what it was). I turned um, 34? I never remember.
27. What one thing would have made your year more satisfying? I have the new addition finished.
28. How would you describe your personal fashion statement this year? Total SAHM. Track pants, tee-shirt, running shoes, and pony-tail.
29. What kept you sane? Scrapbooking and caffeine, online friends.
30. What celebrity did you fancy the most? Angelina Jolie (girl crush) [fancy?? Who says that?]
31. What political issue stirred you the most? I am not political.
32. Who did you miss? My grandma's.
33. Who were the best new people you met this year? I met such awesome people travelling. Putting faces to online friends was so cool. If I had to single someone out, it would be my Wendy. (Hi, Wendy!) We went through the whole PK fiasco together, and I can't help but think it was all worth it to get to know her, and call her my friend.
33. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned this year. To go with your gut. If you feel like you should avoid a situation, avoid it. If you feel like you should thank someone, thank them. You can't please everyone and you won't, but if you go to bed at night, and know in your own gut you are a good person, that is what matters the most.