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.