Wednesday, December 16, 2009

My Favorite Christmas Movie

Several years back I had a spell of insomnia, during which time I became hooked on "Turner Classic Movies". It is when I first fell in love with the name Olivia (after Olivia DeHavalind), and where my crush on Jimmy Stewart was carved in stone. It is also the first time I saw "Christmas in Connecticut".

Every year I just HAVE to watch this one at least once. It's not so much a Christmas Story as a romance that happens at Christmas. I could poke all kinds of holes in the plot, but by golly, I love it.

Barbara Stanwick is divine, and she and Dennis Morgan have the greatest chemistry. It makes me all sentimental and romantic. (Jared and I first started "dating" around Christmas time and it makes me all twittery to think about it...)

Every time I see it I vow that in the next life I too will wear gowns, mink coats, and silk blouses with high waisted trousers. My nose will never need powder, or my lipstick touching up. Instead, I will be ready at a moments notice for a romantic sleigh ride in the snow with my dashing leading man. All while being a wildly independent woman of the world, naturally.

So if you're looking for a video to keep you awake as you wrap up your gifts, get this one. (But whatever you do, be sure you do NOT get the awful Dyan Cannon, Kristofer Kross remake, mmmK?)

Monday, December 14, 2009

Dear Santa, I need hired help.

I can think of 50 different reasons people would hire a surrogate.

I don't mind being pregnant, at least not enough to hire a surrogate, but could I hire a maid and a cook while I am? (A chauffer would be nice while I'm at it...)


Thursday, December 10, 2009

Calm-pound Words

The other day Olivia and I were unloading the dishwasher together.

"Mommy, I know what a compound word is."

"Really? That's great. What are some compound words?"

She proceeded to list a few, some compound, but mostly just 2 syllable words. So together we talked about how a compound word is two words put together to make a new word. That for a word to be a compound word, both parts have to be a word all by themselves.

She lit up.

"I know! 'Compound' is a compound word!" she said.

"Really?" I said. "I know 'pound' is a word, but what about 'com'?"

"You know, how when we're being noisy you always tell us to 'com' down?"

I laughed and told her she was right.

All that schoolin' is really paying off.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009


It's 11:55 pm, and zero degrees outside. (Not sure about the wind chill). I would really love to go to sleep. But I can't. I'm twitchy. Not just in my legs, but in my hands tonight too. So, I'm standing at my desk, doing a midnight version of the hokey pokey while I surf the internet, hoping to get it all out so I can go back to bed.

Isn't being pregnant AWESOME? Twitchy is almost as fun as gestational diabetes (which came back just in time for the holidays...)

**I just chose this picture because E likes to be featured....

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Happy Birthday! (Don't worry, different kid)

We love you Olivia!
You keep your Mommy organized, and you paralyze your Father's will with a smile, what would we do without you?
Happy Birthday!

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Happy Birthday!

We love this kid!
Spencer, you are a joy to have in our home!
Happy Birthday!

Thanksgiving Weekend

Given my gestational state, we opted to use all of Jared's "Marriott Gold" status and camp out at a hotel this Thanksgiving with our friends the Minnicks. We also had a fantastic dinner at Maggiano's with no dishes and enough leftovers for 2 days. Excellent.
Father and Son
The "Crabtree Curse" AKA sugar addict
Spencer, John and Natalie, (baby Nila), Tiffany
The cute kiddos...
Ahh, beds you don't have to make...
Even Susie was kickin' it
What's a hotel without a pool?
Splish Splash
She was havin' a blast...
FYI, the candy is already off this sucker...

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Sticky Rice and Housekeeping tips that would Mortify my mother

In the 12 plus years since we've had children, I have learned a thing or two that can only be learned by experience in regards to keeping house.

Today, we'll talk about rice.

First off, if you try to sweep the kitchen floor after a meal that includes rice, all you end up doing is smearing half the rice all over the floor, and sticking the other half of it to your broom.

So what has this taught me? It's best to wait to sweep until breakfast the next morning when the rice is now hard and crunchy on your floor. It sweeps up much easier. Heck, you can even vacuum it.

Yes, I know that would disgust Martha Stewart. But I do think she could respect my next discovery in regards to rice. Rice Krispies to be exact.

If you ever happen to run out of super glue, but you have some Rice Krispies in your cupboard, take comfort. You see, all you have to do is wet a dozen or so pieces of cereal in milk, sit them on the surface requiring adhesion, and let them dry for about an hour. I have never actually had to do this, but I know it will work because if I let a bowl of Rice Krispies sit on the counter for an hour before someone gets around to rinsing them out, it pretty much takes a chisel to pry those suckers off the bowl.

I guess that's where the term "Sticky Rice" must come from, right?

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

3 years and counting...

(What children who aren't watching TV may end up doing instead...)

This August marked our 3rd year of no cable TV. No TV antenna. I read the book "Unplug the plug-in drug" and in desperation to help improve the quality of our home life and my children's education and general well being, we pulled the plug. That's not to say we don't use the television. We have DVD and VHS machines. We subscribe to Netflix. We have the internet. We subscribe to the Wall Street Journal. But WE choose what comes into our home.

This was not our first attempt. But it was the first time it stuck. It was brutal at first. What do you do with all the quiet? The kids thought they would die. So did I. They were so "there" all the time, demanding my attention. (It was very cold turkey the first 2 weeks, no screens period.)

But eventually, something happened. They went outside. They played with the massive collection of Legos I had almost given to Goodwill. They brought out their toys. And played with them. I had more time to read. To put them to bed. To go to bed myself. Before we knew it, it was normal to not have background noise all the time. I stopped feeling like I needed to yell all the time so they'd hear me.

We have some good friends who have never had cable, and I used to marvel at them. They would always say, "I don't know how people have time to watch TV", and I now know exactly what they mean.

I of course waste plenty of time on the internet. There are days I'm desperate to just sit down and "veg out" in front of a screen. But the thankfully, it usually proves to be too cumbersome to make it come to pass, so I am far more likely to spend time doing something I actually care about, rather than procrastinate it.

I really enjoy reading headlines and thinking about what they mean, rather than having somebody else tell me what to think. Baseball games are a lot more fun to listen to than watch on TV. I love my kids not knowing "what they're missing" at the movies, in fashion, in Hollywood. I love not knowing who certain celebrities are, or what movies are coming out. That's not to say I wouldn't love "Dancing with the Stars", and I especially miss the Olympics and the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. But the trade off for a less clutttered mind is worth it. I am pop culture illiterate, and that's okay with me. I love the silence. I can't stand the noise of TV.

We still haven't reached my utopia of endless book reading, gardening, or model building, but we're closer than we ever had any chance of being that way to begin with. At least we can get homework done, read a book, or just play Uno.

I hope no one interprets this as a self-righteous lecture, I really don't feel that way at all. But if you're looking for some peace in your life, I highly recommend giving it a try!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

I am pregnant. Hear me Roar.

This morning I woke up mean.
No particular reason.
I knew something was amiss, but wasn't fully cognizant of my temperament until about 5 minutes before loading everyone in the car for school.
It dawned on me that everything I had said all morning, regardless of intent, came out more like snarl than an instruction or question.
Yes, Jared's been out of town, but he's not usually part of my morning routine anyhow. I had plenty of sleep. When I started crying on the way home thinking of what an unpleasant mother I am, it hit me.
I'm a walking horomone today. I feel tired to my core. I want to cry just thinking how tired I feel. As Susie had gotten up extra early, she went down for her nap early as well and I joined her. I had angry dreams for 2 1/2 hours. (All I remember really is throwing a bunch of dishes at my husband because HE wasn't "mad enough" about something I thought he should be madder about) I woke up still feeling crabby. And tired.
And so I've decided. Even though I must venture out in public to buy sustenance for my family today, I am to speak to NO ONE. I am not to try to redeem coupons, and I definitely cannot go to WalMart (as previously planned). It's all about survival. (For anyone in my path. Kind of like Edward in TWILIGHT)
I will post photos of my earlier triumphs this week. Apparently, all my expended energy to vacuum everything in sight and clean out cupboards/closets you previously could not OPEN, has caught up with me. I need to remind myself why I feel like this, and to console myself that if the kids toy room has looked this bad for this long, it can wait for another day...

This closet was formerly practically impossible to open. 2 bags of trash and one bag to Goodwill later...I could move in.

We'll see how long the "under the sink" magic lasts, but isn't it pretty?

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

It's the little things really

I'm in love.
With my new vacuum.
Ours died a couple of weeks ago, I declared to my hubby that the time had come to INVEST in a vacuum. (As opposed to the $150 model we keep buying every 18 mos...X the last 15 do the math)
I did my due diligence. Even borrowing some from friends to try out. But today, confused by the mire of internet reviews, I actually stepped into a vacuum shop and came out with true love for $100 less than I was thinking I had to spend.
I spent the afternoon vacuuming. Again. Even after scouring our carpets yesterday with 2 different, expensive, models, this thing sucked up everything that was left and makes my carpets look gorgeous. Glory be, it does hardwood as well, no special adjustments necessary.
I'm so inspired I may actually clean something besides my floors.
It weighs 8 pounds. Has a 5 year warranty, lifetime belt, and free yearly tune up.
Who knew I'd finally reach this point in my life? A vacuum making me so content. (Especially because it's light enough for the kids to do all by themselves!)

Monday, November 2, 2009


Jack was a classic. Dream job costume. Spencer? A "smartie" pants.
Illustrating the differences between male and female, "scary guy" and "flower fairy"
Susannah the fierce lion, with her fairy friend.
The ultimate power couple...

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Blindness of our Minds

Have you ever wanted something so badly that you were completely blinded by what you were actually doing? You know, the times when you used noble words like "committed", "faithful", "true", "loyal", "right"? Those times when your opinion of yourself and your actions is justified, and even noble. You reinforce your justification of your chosen course by telling yourself that your actions, though "not understood" by people whom you would normally respect, are higher and nobler than they can possibly understand. Our superior understanding of the situation, and more importantly, our intentions gird up and fortify our objective. Hence, we proceed to move forward, blinded by WHAT WE WANT, not seeing the potentially devastating consequences.

I have a LOT of examples of this in my life. I was convinced I wanted to marry a certain young man for whom I'd wasted 2 years "waiting" while he served a mission. Never mind that any logically thinking person could see once he got home and we were together what a stupid match it would be. No. I WANTED IT. There was no reason a girl like me and boy like him couldn't have what we wanted.

Then there was the time I WANTED to have a picture perfect, Martha- Stewart- Envy- Inducing- Cookie -Exchange, and dadgum if I wasn't going to MAKE it happen. I spent hours scouring the internet, coming up with all the right details, including "The Rules". (Any self respecting cookie exchange surely has rules to keep it from falling into the flotsam of a Homemaking Meeting Potluck) So naturally, when a girl I visit taught* called 2 hours before the party to tell me her cookie press had broken, and would it be okay if she came with (gasp) no cookies, I TOLD HER "NO".

So how is it that at this stage in my life I can look to these examples and identify them as times when my mind was "blinded"? What finally "snapped me out of it"?

Sometimes, someone else makes the choice for us. Missionary? HE broke up with ME. (Unthinkable, I know) In that case, reality slapped me hard across the face and gave me no choice but to take it. It was not easy, or painless.

The cookie party? Stupidly, all I got immediately was a twinge of guilt.

It was quickly buried under a mountain of justification. "If she had only planned further ahead she could have avoided this." "It's not my fault her cookie press broke." "It's not fair that everyone else made 4 dozen cookies and has to share them with her, who brought none." "I clearly stated the rules before the party." I even had to somehow bury the fact that there were probably more than 6 dozen cookies leftover and that everyone felt they had more than they would ever use. I managed to not even pack some up and take them to her with an apology. No, I just brushed it under the rug. I sought approval of my atrocious behavior from trusted friend. She gently tried to tell me I probably should have told her to come anyway, but I even managed to eliminate that guilt by telling myself that trusted friend didn't hold the same "standards of excellence" I was seeking for the evening.

I am afraid to report that the incident didn't strike me with it's proper horror until a much later time, when I felt snubbed from a group for not being able to contribute "properly". ("She brings a bag of chips to a potluck where everyone else brought something that took all morning to make? Let's not tell her about our next one...")

So how do we wake ourselves up to the blindness we live in TODAY? How do we avoid creating such misery for ourselves, and people we claim to care about?

I keep coming back to the idea that at the moment I find myself justifying ANY behavior, I am putting the blinders on. If my action was in course with what I knew to be right, or good, or true, I would not need to justify it for any reason. I never have to justify being kind. I never feel I have to justify being generous, or loving, or charitable. In fact, I am rewarded by feeling good. I don't have time to bother coming up with reasons why what I was doing instead WAS good.

What do you think? How have you been woken up to your "blind times"? Is there something blinding you now? Do you know what it is? How do you get out of it?

*In the Mormon Church women are assigned to each other (2 to 1) to look after and care for each other. As a "Visiting teacher" you are to visit or contact the person you visit teach at least once a month to see if she has any needs you can help with, and be a friend in general.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Only for Women who have been Pregnant....

I have this recurring symptom of pregnancy that I can't recall ever having anyone else claim to be able to relate to. Having begun its onset MUCH earlier than usual, I thought I would take an informal survey of my friends to see if anyone else has had this that I just haven't run into yet.

(This just doesn't sound like it's going anywhere good, does it?)

I call it "the wishbone effect". That is, I feel like my legs are the two sides of a wishbone, and my pelvis where they meet. The uncomfortable part is, I feel like someone is trying to break the wishbone. This usually happens while walking around (naturally). I have heard some people say towards the later months they feel like their joints are "wobbly" or "loose", but this is actually painful. Like, my face involuntarily grimaces kind of pain. I've had this before, but never this early.


Monday, October 5, 2009


My doorbell just rang while I was fixing dinner.

6th grade neighbor, whom recently pitched me Happenings books, pizzas, cookie dough, and chocolates wanted to know if I wanted to buy raffle tickets for the homecoming football game.

I said, "No, thank you.'

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Aren't there child labor laws?

Warning: This post contains a gripe

Today is September 30. The first day of school here was September 8. By my calculation, that means school has been in session for 22 days.

I have had children in my neighborhood ring my doorbell for THREE different fundraisers for the SAME SCHOOL. The first knock came, I kid you not, within 30 minutes of the bus dropping them off the FIRST DAY. That means that on the first day of school, they found time for an assembly to make salespeople out of them. Priorities I suppose. (That does not count the overlap from the 8 children in the neighborhood, all selling 3 different things, for a total of 24 solicitations in 22 days)

Not only do I NOT need, or want, overpriced Happenings Books (that contain coupons for places at least 2 counties away), disgusting cookie dough (I know, I've tried it the last 2 years), or frozen (cardboard) pizzas.

On top of all this, 2 years ago a bond was passed that increased our property taxes to help fund the schools. The irony of course is, that my children do not even ATTEND these schools. (Never mind that the district still gets the $14,000 in funds for the transportation they do not provide us ...) I remember the first year we were here our children did attend this school. I also remember one of them in TEARS because I wouldn't let them go door to door to sell, and hence, they could not win the limo ride to McDonalds for being the top salesperson.

My children (thankfully) attend charter schools that manage to produce outstanding test results with a fraction of the funds that the other local schools provide. Better yet, they have never pimped my children to PAY for any of it. Are there fundraisers? Yes. But guess what? I get clothing they can wear to school for the money! I have bid on items I actually WANTED at auctions in order to raise money for the PLAYGROUND our state funds will not afford us!

If my memory serves me, before Christmas I will also receive solicitations for "Butter Braids" ($12.00 a pop) and wrapping paper. I'm going to JUST SAY NO!!!

I am so glad I am able to send my children to a school where the education is the priority. I think all anyone else is doing is training a door to door sales force. Heaven knows with the education they get at school, that's all they'll be able to do.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

My Next Life will be a Musical

I am the youngest of five children. My parents had a 17 year age difference, which means my father was a teenager of the Great Depression (not kidding), and my mother was a teenager in the 50's. One of the results of this, was they both loved to watch old Musicals, and I, not having much choice in the matter, watched lots of them with them.

We lived in a small town and I was convinced that outside of our small town, it was perfectly normal for people to burst into song and dance spontaneously. How delightful! I couldn't wait until I could move someplace where this was daily life. But when I hit second grade, I decided I could wait no longer. I, seven year old Tiffany Crabtree, decided it was time to bring the joy of Musicals to life at Paradise Elementary School.

It was a rainy day, which meant we had indoor recess in Mrs. Dimas' second grade classroom. I remember a popular toy was a set of paper dolls. Naturally, a squabble broke out between a couple of girls over who got the dolls, and I decided what we needed was a song. Preferably one that would end with all of us dancing on top of our desks.

So, the heroine that I was, stood on top of my desk and with all the earnestness of my heart started singing (to some made up melody) "Don't fight..." I was a bit stunned to find that no more words came out of my mouth. There was no music starting. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to sing next. Nobody else was joining me. Instead they all just stared. I got down from the desk, my first pangs of harsh reality creeping into my little heart. Was my life never going to be a musical? What a dread and dreary thought.

To compensate I majored in Music Dance Theater in college. It helped ease the pain. When the movie "Enchanted" came out, I knew I was not alone in my hope of a better world. (In fact, I will turn on the Central Park scene in that movie whenever I am feeling blue. Whistling a happy tune just doesn't work if you can't whistle)

But last night, I definitively decided that whether my non-singing, non-dancing husband likes it or not, I am living my next life in a Musical. With the kids. So there.

We took all of them ('cept Susie of course) to Mary Poppins. Delightful. Inspiring. Magical. And my kids thought so too. The only thing better than loving something so much, is to see your kids love it too.

If you get a chance to catch the tour in your town, DONT' MISS IT! It's super-cali-blah, blah, -yeah, you know.

PS I am in no way ashamed or embarrased by that story. It just confirms that I'm onto something...

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

More pics

State Fair Fun

For the Grandfolks in Portland, here are some recent pics!

Monday, August 31, 2009

A Clarification

For some odd reason, it has now come up 3 times this week that some folks still are not quite clear on the name of our fifth child. (That would be the feminine child born last May)
To help with clearing things up, please refer to this post

If my husband couldn't be a dentist, this is the least he could do...

Yeah. That's right. I just got back from taking the kids to the dentist. I think we will have to cancel Christmas and next summer's vacation.
Unless my husband can talk Edy's into fluoride ice cream on a toothbrush popsicle stick...

(I apologize the photo is so small, but the resolution prohibited making it any larger...)

Sunday, August 23, 2009

A Bun the oven.

Yes folks, I'm pregnant.

13 weeks along, due February 24th.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

The Feng Shui Way

I just finished a delightful little book I picked up on Feng Shui. By "delightful little book", I mean the size of the book, it's design color, it's font, etc. All of these elements, quite delightful, and I dare say, very feng shui.

But you've got to be kidding me. What I basically learned was: if your house is immaculate, clutter free, and on a noise-free street, you will be at peace.

Are they kidding?

I suppose the reason my house will truly never be feng shui is because I refuse to ring a bell everytime I enter a room.

Yeah, that's it.

Friday, July 10, 2009

A Joyful Noise

On Monday this week we had company arrive from Chicago. Jack and Spencer's friends Jovan and Nikola (brothers of corresponding ages to J and S) arrived for 3 days. Jared left town the day they arrived. What was I thinking?

Don't get me wrong, the boys had oodles of fun.

Do you know HOW MUCH noise accompanies"oodles of fun"?

I'm taking the rest of the week off...

Tuesday, July 7, 2009


Michael Jackson is STILL DEAD?!!! Gotta run...I have to watch the media say this for at least 3 more days....Too busy to write.

Ps. I'm too distraught to add a picture...

Friday, June 26, 2009

There's No Place Like Home!

Today was the last day of my Orton-Gillingham class. It was fantastic, inspiring, and very, very hard. I am so much smarter than I was 2 weeks ago. In more ways than one.

I remember when I was young my mother used to always say, "I'm so glad I can be a stay at home mom, there's nothing in the world I would rather do." Of course, in my mind, that translated to, "There is no way I'm smart enough to ever do anything but cook and clean." I regret to admit I always felt a little disappointed that she never aspired to more. (I was a child of the feminist generation after all) But now I know for myself, I feel the same way.

As great as this class was, and as happy as I am that there are dedicated and professional people who go into the world and do this important thing for others, I am SOOOO happy to come back home and give it to my son. I miss being home. I miss having order that is in my charge. I miss my kids.

I am so glad I can be a stay at home mom. There's nothing in the world I would rather do.

Thanks mom. I finally get it.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

An American Institution

**Note** This post is being written in a effort to avoid working on the talk I'm supposed to give in sacrament meeting tomorrow, as well as the sunday school lesson I haven't even looked at. And, am I supposed to buy my husband something too? Do I need to make him breakfast in bed? I better go to the store...

This week our "neighborhood" is having a Garage Sale. A very ambitious neighbor looking for some extra cash organized the whole sha-bang. I have, on principle, sworn off ever participating in one. I don't mind buying something from a garage sale. But I really, really despise the idea of putting one on.

I remember when I was about 10 my mother spent no less than TWO MONTHS "organizing" hers. She didn't sleep the entire night before because she was up pricing. Our entire family life was on hold for the precious $200 she would garner for her efforts. Then, when the hoopla was done, she got to spend another day hauling it 45 minutes away to the Salvation Army. Capitalism at its finest.

So when my perky neighbor invited me to participate, my first response was NO WAY. Then the (very weak) frugal voice in the back of my head said, "You do have a basement full of stuff you don't need. Why not earn a little cash? It could be Christmas money!" etc., etc., etc. Then the reality that I would not be home the entire week prior to prepare sank in, so with a twinge of self inflicted guilt, I opted out.

I. am. so. glad.

For 3 days now, I have watched my neighbors sit on lawn chairs in their driveways from 8 AM to 4 PM. It has been hot and humid, but that's my observation as I get in and out of my air conditioned car. From speaking with them, they have each averaged about $100. Now, $100 is $100. But this is where the principal of "opportunity cost" applies.

I personally cannot see CHARGING my neighbors children to buy JUNK that I will then have to throw out. And maybe I've been a Mormon for too long, but it seems to me, if I've got a bin full of perfectly nice baby clothes I'll never use again, I'd just as soon GIVE them to neighbor with a new baby, rather than ask her to BUY them from me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not too proud to buy garage sale clothes. I have, and do. I'm also not opposed to making money. But I really believe in the whole "Karma" thing when it comes to giving things away.

I'd much rather just pack up my excess and send it out the door with a prayer that it will be a blessing to whomever is able to buy it. Just think of all the handicapped veterans that will be employed sorting and tagging it for me! Just think of the thrill of the thrift shop patron at the bargain! Have I lost out on $100, possibly, much more? Yes.

But I have spent the last 3 days doing much more satisfying things.

I just love the American way.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Pardon me if my brain explodes.

Whew! What a week! I have spent the last 5 days, and will spend 5 more next week, taking a college class to obtain level 1 Orton-Gillingham certification. ("ya broke 'ur what?!") I know. What it really means, is that I will finally have official credentials to be Spencer's tutor, and whomever else I happen to tutor. (O-G, as it is called, is a "Multi-sensory, systematic, explicit approach to remediating reading difficulties")

It has been fun, tiring, and a great opportunity to flex my mental muscles. I'm glad I've already been studying this for a year and half. I've come home with a big headache each day, 3 hours of homework, and dreams about the complexities of short vowel articulation.
I'm ready for the weekend!

(Jared of course, is just happy I'm home to catch up on the laundry. But he seriously has been very supportive.)

Ever feel like your brain is going to explode?

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Date Night...interuppted

Friday night.
Jack and Spencer at friends.
Most favorite sitter hired.
Star Trek tickets in hand.
Phone call.
Ethan and Olivia decide to test 911.
It works.
Sitter in tears.
Date night over.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

There's no such thing as a free lunch

I was just reading this and thinking.
If KFC can't provide enough chicken dinners for each person in the country to eat one meal, how can the government provide lifelong healthcare for free? Doesn't it seem logical that it too, would have to be rationed?

Friday, April 17, 2009

Seeing Red. (Or Pink?)

I believe I have officially encountered my first genuine Mother/Daughter impasse.

Olivia wants her room pink. Not just one wall either. ALL of them. She has (solid) pink curtains, bedspread, and chair. Even with white walls there is already healthy does of pink in there.

Now, I will never be accused of being a decorator. Heaven knows my house could use some professional help. (I've still got a large stack of framed pictures, waiting to be hung, leaning against my bedroom wall. We moved in 18 mos. ago) This being said, it is the deepest, secret yearning of my heart to have my house (or at least one room in it) be just truly, deeply, beautiful. I would also settle for one that looks finished.

I am probably closer to getting the girls room to have a shot goal at that than any other in the house. But we are at a cross roads.

I am normally a very, "whatever" type of mom when it comes to this sort of thing. If my ego was truly tied up in my decor, I would have some. But I have seen too many hideously pink bedrooms to hand this one over. I can't stand walking into a bottle of pepto-bismol. I may not know much about decorating, but I do know, more is NOT better when it comes to pink. The budget doesn't allow for a change of bedding, curtains, and chair to offset the rest.

So, I am looking for advice. Tips on why I should change my mind and go with it, how to "do" all pink (the decorator way), or a lecture on how not giving in on this one will permanently damage my child. Even a pep talk telling me to forget her wants and just go with mine, she'll get over it. (hint- that's the one I'll like the best)

I really am thinking I should have just done it all for her. BEFORE she got an opinion.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Living the Dream

For anyone who has ever questioned whether there really are glorious gifts within us all, check this out! Made my day. Reawakened sensitivity to how I judge others. (Let's hope it sticks)

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Happy Easter!

I have eaten way. too. much. It's been awesome. Hope your day was as happy as ours!