a few faves.

I thought today, since I have still been recovering from Horsecrap day, I would share with you some trivial things that I have been liking lately, and if you try them or already love them, let me know. By the way, hoping the pictures work, since I stole them all off the internet. I guess I should take my own, and scrap about this. Noting for later...

1- Costco Churros. Let's be honest, at a buck a piece, these things are SAHM crack. I Must. Have. One. Everyday. Carbs be damned.

2- Wonder Pets. "The phone. The phone is riiiiiinging!!, This is sewious..." I think this may be the cutest kids show ever. I must admit, I really enjoy watching this, and I am not even on Vicodin anymore...

3- Clean and Clear Deep Action Cream Cleanser. I don't have an acne problem, knock on wood. I got a sample of this stuff, and I ended up loving it. It is minty tingly, and the best part...it removes my waterproof mascara. A one action deal, that is a bonus for me, cause by the time I am ready to crash into bed, I don't even like to wash my face, let alone engage in some complicated four step process that includes an arsenal of various product. I need easy, and the tingly thing, that is an awesome bonus.

4- Chewable Calcium in Caramel and Chocolate. When my doctor told me I need to start supplementing or else I would end up a hunchback, I was happy to find calcium candy. They really are good. Especially dipped in a Churro. Okay, I haven't actually tried that...

5- Burt's Bees Lip Shimmer. I admit, my obsession with these little buggers is getting a little out of hand. I have one in my pocket. Always. I especially love the Cocoa shade. I did have a bad experience sending one through the wash, and dryer...wasn't pretty, but I am still a user. I have been known to turn the Suburban around, drive back home, just to get my Burt's. Try it, you'll see.

6- Borghese Bronzing Powder from, yeah, Costco. I guess I hang out there more that I thought...must be the Churros. Anyway, they gave me a sample of this stuff, and I used it the day I filmed my infamous scrapbooking video segments. For once in my life, I looked less like a nocturnal pasty-faced corpse, and more like a human being. I had color! I looked alive! So, I bought into it, and I like the subtle look of health.

There you go. My testimonial of some of my favorite things right now. I just wanted to point out what did not make the list...like a spouse, or exercise.

happy mothers day.

You know, had I blogged last night, I think I would have blogged a classic entry. A tirade of sorts about how much Mother's Day should be synonymous with "horsecrap"<---or something much less family friendly.

I have always hated Mothers Day.

I hated it as a young child, when it felt like every time I turned around, I had to be nice to my Mom for another WHOLE DAY.... like her birthday, wedding anniversary, Mothers Day...and when was there a "Kids Day" anyway? And my Mom would always tell me that "everyday was kids day" and I would roll my eyes at her.

And then I hated it as a single young adult, when I wanted to be a Mom, but was having a hard time finding someone that was remotely interesting to even date. The daydreams I would have of an idyllic Mother's Day, full of sunshine, and hugs, and smelling of lilacs.

Now I dislike the day for other reasons. For the fact that it is just another day, but somehow I always hold onto the hope that Sam will pitch in and make dinner, or look for the missing church shoes, or even for-go his own Sunday nap, to keep the kids quiet while I crash for a couple of blessed hours.

But no. Most of the time, I have picked my own gift, gotten gifts for my Mom and Mother-in-Law, made dinner(lunch and breakfast), gotten the kids ready for church, cleaned up after the meals, helped the kids make cards for the grandmas...all this while Sam takes in the Golf tournament on television, scratching himself, precious remote in hand.

I was so spitting mad last night, this year he "ran out of time" to take the kids to the Dollar Store to let them choose me a gift. He had to go into work. So I took them over. I waited in the car, and sent them in to choose presents. It is not that I wanted gifts, I just want to teach the kids to give. Not a hard concept, but "he ran out of time!??" Are you kidding me? Walmart started pimping out Mothers Day crap the day after Easter!

So I woke up a little crotchety this morning, expecting the worst.

And guess what folks?

It wasn't a perfect day. The kids argued like normal. Sam never did get me a gift, not even a card. My fat dress felt tight. We were late to church, and had to sit on the hard chairs. But...my attitude was different. For no other reason, then I think that my Heavenly Father wanted me to feel special, to feel like I am a good Mom, I had a good day.

I was grateful. Grateful for five little kids that call me Mom. Grateful for five fun foam picture frames that they made for me in their church classes. Grateful for a husband that picked up the ball today, and made sandwiches for everyone so I didn't have to. Grateful for the simple fact that we are all healthy. And yeah, grateful for the Dollar Store crap that my kids picked out...mostly to see how proud they were of the selections they made. (hair-brush, white-out, some colorful (fugly) hair bows, nail clippers, and Junior Mints)

See, it was all in my attitude. I am glad, that for today, I was able to find that happy place. (And without caffeine, I might add)

I know that some of you who read this probably struggle with Mothers Day too. Maybe because you are missing a child, maybe because you aren't able to have children, or your children are grown and gone, or maybe for the petty, annoying things I mentioned....and for some reason you didn't feel special today.

I want you to know that I think you are pretty wonderful.

That, Mom, everyday WAS Kids Day growing up in your home.

That, Jen, I was thinking of you--

And all of my "CB" friends, that I know at any given moment would let me vent about anything, pull my wandering toddler off of 780 west(with no "where the "H" were YOU judgments), or even vacuum my carpet if I asked.

I am amazed at all the women in my life, how even as impersonal as a computer hooked to the Internet seems, we have become friends.

That we all "get" each other, and strengthen each other, laughing at our stupid mistakes, and knowing that we don't have to pretend to be perfect to be good women and mothers.

Thank you all for your examples to me..and Happy Horsecrap Day!

Remember, tag in the BACK

Swimsuit season is nearly upon us.

This gem was caught on my camera phone, when Mikayla wanted to "dress self."

gotta have a hobby

Have I mentioned before that my father-in-law owns a bowling center?

I married into a semi-professional bowling family. It is inevitable then, that my kids would bowl, and even I would dabble a little in bowling.

For me it is purely recreational, but for them, well....that is a whole 'nother ball of wax.

The first year we were married was hard for me. Sam bowled on a couple of bowling leagues and "had a life" so to speak, outside of our happy little connected-at-the-hip coupledom. When we dated, he would drop bowling league to be with me...and after we married....meh. He begged me to get a hobby of my own...well, not begged, exactly, but said he would be happy to support one. (Thus, scrapbooking...) So, that first year we were married, he informs me that we would be going to Reno, Nevada to participate in "Bowling Nationals." I may have laughed. It sounded so official. Like it was trying to be the Superbowl. And it is! For bowlers, anyway.

I tagged along, and I was amazed really, how serious these bowlers are. Each bowler brings an average of five ball to bowl with. Each ball is for a different and specific lane condition. Are you ASLEEP??! Yeah, I was too. But apparently, if the lanes have been oiled excessively it warrants a ball with a certain shell on it, to perform better in the oily conditions. Then there is a ball for dry (not oiled enough) conditions, and a ball to pick up spares only...I am telling you, there is some sort of science to the whole thing. And these bowlers can carry on whole conversations about the oil PATTERNS on the lanes!? "Yeah, I had a rough time getting anything to carry the last few boards...I mean, it hooked so early..."

There is a whole new world in competitive bowling. Silly me, I thought you just had to aim at the pins, and knock them over...

They are very serious about the Bowling Nationals thing. There is a dress code, and you have to be very quiet, and they have to check the equipment in, to be weighed, and tested. It was an experience to say the least.

Sam and his family go every year. It is their tradition. I haven't been since the first time, but now that I have my own *ahem* hobby, I don't mind him going.

There is some good money to be won, if you bowl well. So far, Sam has done about average each year, basically paying for the trip, with a couple hundred extra. Of course, if you talk to him, he did awesome, and "made" $1200.00! But...realistically, by the time you take out entry fees, gas money, hotel money, food money, and somehow there is always a couple of mandatory golf games, he breaks even. That is where he was this weekend. Bowling his little heart out. (snicker)

I am glad he had fun.

But I am pretty sure that *I* made more $$ this weekend on my hobby what with the scrapbooking assignments and stuff.

hopeful

I am such a sucker for contests.

I entered into the Martha Stewart Scrapbooking contest, the winner gets a whole bunch of great crap from Hewlett-Packard. I was so mentally winning this thing, that I even stopped my search for a point-and-shoot digital camera, because there was one in the prize package. HA! The power of positive thinking, right?

Well apparently Martha didn't think my layout was a "Good Thing." Cause they are announcing the winners all next week, and I haven't been called, so I can safely assume that I am not going to meet Martha, nor get my HP package O' swag.

I am going to share the layout instead, with you all. And if someone wanted to send me a small digital camera, I would accept it.

I have moved on, and I have been working on some stuff for the Krylon Designer Challenge contest. So I have been spray painting the ozone layer away. I have some pretty acceptable projects, and even if I don't win....my nose has been producing technicolor boogers from all the stray paint particles, and THAT my friends, is entertainment enough.

In my neighborhood, they have this walking group, where a bunch of us SAHM's meet, with our strollers spilling over with toddlers....and walk.

"Walk" is apparently a multi-faceted word. What I consider walking, was not what we did today. Maybe it is the fact that I am short and stubby, and the other ladies legs hit me at about my armpits. I had to literally jog to keep up with them on our morning jaunt.

I already feel it in my hind-end. Not a good thing, cause I know tomorrow it is going to feel much worse. That drop-the-soap-in-the-shower-groaning-to-pick-it-back-up worse.

And my toes hurt. I broke out the flip-flops, and I am in the process of growing calluses in my toe-crotch yet again. It's the same thing every spring...

On the business end, I am finishing up a project I was given by assignment from a magazine! It feels good to be back in the saddle, well, it would feel good, if my butt didn't hurt.

here goes nothin'

I have lost all sense of pride.

Yesterday, I posted un-photo-shopped and horrid photos of myself, and today....well, I am linking you to my video nightmare.

Isaac, the videographer, did some miracle editing, cause I distinctly remember myself being way more embarrassing. Let me know what you think...

So, here it is: http://www.scraparatus.com/media/category_view.asp?cID=1
Sorry about the cut and paste, blogger has not been linking things directly for me?!

Anyway, if nothing else, check out the tool.

fine.

Photos by Mikayla age four. This was the best we could do. My camera is heavy for little hands....

spontaneous.

I don't really like my hair.

I haven't known what to do with it since the 80's. I try different things, and then I hang it right back into the ponytail where it belongs. I have donated to Locks of Love. I have had perms. I have straightened it. I have chopped it off into various bobs. And eventually, I always grow it out into a one length mop that hangs down the back of me.

It's healthy. I use Equate product from Walmart on it, and still get away with it. Aside from coloring the gray every once in a while, I am pretty darn low maintenance. The lowest of maintenance, in fact. Lower maintenance than me would be a cave dweller who didn't even own a pair of scissors, and whacked her hair between two stones when it fell in the fire.

When I was a little girl, I would listen to my Mom's Crystal Gayle record, and I would stare at the cover of the album and wish...."Oh, please, let me grow my hair that long....I just want to be able to sit on it (and I would be careful on the toilet,) and have it swish around by my knees..."
Sadly, I have never made it that far.

I get to the point I was at today, and I start browsing those crappy "Cute -N- Sassy Short Hair-cut" magazines at the grocery store. Those low-budget magazines with still frames of porn star looking girls, flaunting various wigs. Does anyone actually buy those?

I don't like to "do" hair, truth be told. I think a five minute hairstyle is about three minutes too long for me to spend in front of a mirror. Round brushes? Really? Can anyone with only two hands really do that?

So here I was, mulling over the options, and wanting change, but not change, ya know? So I put it on the back burner.

Off I go to run some errands, and lo and behold, like a beacon from karma itself...a $6.99 Haircut Sale balloon over at the Super Cuts. So I U-turned the 'Burban around, and Mikayla and I were the "Walk-ins Welcome." We were the only ones in the store, with four eager scissor wielding young ladies, which was either good or bad.

"What can I do for you?"
"I want my hair-cut."
"How would you like it?"
"I don't know."

And she offered some suggestions, and was very nice. And she layered it in some long layers, and she used a razor blade at some point. And then she fluffed it with a towel, and put some junk on it, and there ya go.

Seriously. That was it. And it looked pretty good!

Since the kids, I have developed this weird wave to my hair where it used to be poker straight, and it is such a pain in the butt to blow-dry out, and this chick....this SUPER cuts chick, worked it into something! She scrunched it up, and worked it.

I paid my $6.99, bought some product, and gave her a tip. I was feeling pretty saucy.

I came home just in time to slip in the door before the kids came barging in from school at 3:30.

"Hey Mom" child number one, runs past, doesn't even notice....

"Whoa" child number two notices...trying desperately to put his finger on what was different about me....shirt, no....pants, no...finally registers....."Where is your ponytail?"

Child number three "yeah, did you just get out of the shower or something?"

"It looks like you need a comb"<---child number four.

Happy Birthday Pickle!

Four years ago, right about now, I was recovering from my fourth and final! c-section. It was bittersweet, and I was trying to soak everything up, knowing I would not be experiencing another childbirth.

Mikayla is very loved, which is what you say when you are in denial about your child being spoiled. Not just by Sam and I, but by her doting siblings. In spite of being spoiled she is still a pretty sweet girl.

I love you little pickle. And I get you all to myself for another year before Kindergarten claims you.

Another spring catalog came today!

My youngest kid is turning four this Saturday. So I admit, it's been a while since I had a baby in the house....it is possible that I have forgotten certain things about the younglings as infants, but I am still pretty sure that I wouldn't want my baby spooning with a stuffed animal. Especially one with such a self-satisfied grin as that lion. ((shudder))




And this.....seriously?

perusing the magazines so you don't have to

Let's re-cap.

So, for $44.95 I could have one of these glorified beach balls, that guarantees that I will lose 28-33 pounds with its ergonomic "s" shape that molds to my body...AS SEEN ON T.V.!!

Sweet. Wish it had a drink holder.

The perfect remedy to a crappy day.

It doesn't matter what I have going on, if you ask me to go fly kites....I will always, always say yes.

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.