SPAZ Break

So it’s supposed to be “Spring Break” this week but it’s actually been the busiest week in about 27.

What do I do to PRETEND like I’m on a break?

Here are 7 ways that I tend to entertain myself and have a mock-cation… Oh, HERE, let me SPAZ count them for you in this video !!!(don’t forget to un-mute that … you don’t want to miss the annoying tone)

Here’s the video (watch at your own risk):

ME BEING A SPAZ AND COUNTING TO 7

#1- VINE. Period.  NOTE- is both addicting and ridiculous (as seen in the video above) hello,  VINE App you’re a real treasure. On a side note, I act like this 80% of the time in my life (you can get validation from anyone  that has lived with me). Yes, with complete sobriety (in case there was question).

#2- PINTEREST… somehow you’re the one place that I can get lost in home facials, crocheted hats and how it is humanly possible to turn a large old t-shirt into a sweet scarf.

#3- Laughing… lots and lots of laughing. I can achieve this by A. listening to my son’s weird comments, B. watching my husband do his amazing dance moves or C. doing  things that make me laugh at myself (made up songs, strange faces in the mirror, rad dance moves, you name it!) I’m good at cracking up at any or all of these.

#4- Eating fancy lunchespizza

Okay, they’re not really “fancy” and I eat them at home… but I take more than 15 minutes to make them and they’re not PB&J…  I eat them while watching re-runs on the “E Network” of women who live in New York and wear Jimmy Choo heels (wow, this one makes me sound kinda sad but I don’t care… it’s what I do).

#5- Watching movies made for girlies. These typically do NOT include either super heroes or robots. This week? What To Expect When You’re Expecting and Pretty In Pink. Unfortunately I viewed these while doing work… yes, multitasking at its very best (or worst). I really just wanted to watch these movies while laying horizontally, eating chocolate things. I’ll take what I can get.

#6- Baths and Home Made Facials facial

I am known to create the most enormous bubble mountain in a tub of really hot water…it’s a talent. I surround the bath with tea lights and then smother my face in a mixture of Greek yogurt, honey, lemon and brown sugar.  I sit in the sudsy hot water until the muck on my face dries like a rock… it’s satisfying and also presents a glow (either that, or my face is flushed from my body temperature as I’ve  inappropriately boiled myself in ridiculously hot water for over 20 minutes).

#7- Pictures of Far Off Places. I have a desktop series of photos from Ireland that cycle through in front of me as I read curricula and letters about student teacher objectives. This situation satisfies both my urge to be in Dublin, clinking glasses of Guinness with the locals AND the fact that St. Patrick’s Day is this month… I try to be efficient in all things.

So… I leave you with this Irish blessing…

May The Road
Rise Up To Meet You

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields
and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand

Now, go… go have your own mock-cation… how will you spend YOURS?

“Comedy is Simply a Funny Way of Being Serious”

“Comedy is Simply a Funny Way of Being Serious” Peter Ustinov

WARNING… what you are about to read is the “real” deal… it’s not filled with humorous quips … it’s a little different… this is me… this is me right now.

There are times in life when I feel as though I’m running on full speed… lighter than air shoes on my feet… wings on my shoulders.

There are other times when I feel as though I’m stopped in the mud…  cement blocks on my ankles… bricks on my back.

I fall down in the dirt and get a little roughed up.There is a good reason why something like this might happen.

You see, this recent time of skinning knees was to figure out why…. why, I question… often… QUESTIONS, QUESTIONS, worry, QUESTIONS, doubt, QUESTIONS, fear, QUESTIONS… like this…

QUESTION: What happens if I have to lose control? What happens if this doesn’t get done? Who will I upset?

QUESTION: What happens if I get sick and don’t know what it is? What if it’s serious and I don’t catch it in time? What if it means death?

QUESTION: What happens if the year’s plan changes? How do I know if I’m making the right choices? What if I don’t do this correctly?

This week… I feel like I’m getting some answers….

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ANSWER: Let go. He’s got it. He loves you unconditionally.

ANSWER: You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.

ANSWER: He makes the plans. Listen and be still. He’s still here.

I’m a hypochondriac. I obsess about the unknowns. Why? Because I’ve been damaged by the unknowns. If you’ve ever had to rely on the weakness of others and the unknowns have come to knock you down with a hard blow or two, you understand what this means. I’ve spent more time on WebMD than in a classroom for a BA.

Because of fear and worry, I’ve spent a lot of my time collecting all of the pieces of “stuff” that I think I will need to survive or that I can carry with me in order to avoid surprises or hurts or unexpected pains.

What I’ve got is a pocket. A dirty pebble, lint filled, bit o’ leaves, mushed bugs, snack cracker crumble pocket of stuff that needs to be emptied. Washed out. Cleaned. You know? A place that’s in me and filled with… JUNK!?

God and I are celebrating our 15th anniversary (this is when I broke down and decided to be with Him)… we’ve had a lot to learn about one another. Do I trust Him? Sometimes… when it’s easy. I mean, really… do I really TRUST? No… or I wouldn’t be so worried and find it necessary to carry a load with me at all times (just in case).

I realized this just recently when I ran real fast down a hill, tripped on myself and was left with skinned knees, a bruised elbow and a dirty little pebble that rolled out from my pocket… to sit right in front of me.

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Wow, it’s tough. No, really… c’mon on. Love that you can’t see coming at you with puckered lips? Love that doesn’t wrap two solid manly arms around you for a tight squeeze? Love that doesn’t slide a ring on your finger in front of your friends and family?

Don’t be fooled. It’s real. It’s real because I need to know that out there… or right here, He is here. Something else besides me.

How do I know? Gosh… I really have no idea… I guess it all comes from the looks back. When I look back, I see it… it’s like a magic ink trick with a lemon and some sunlight… I can’t see it right away… but when the light hits it… it’s clear as day… just takes a while to show up. There’s been some real love there.

What I am I trying to say here? I forgot. No, I didn’t… I am saying that I’m FINALLY tired of figuring it out. QUESTIONS. I don’t need to know what’s going to happen. Today? Tomorrow? This Month?  By the end of the year?! Heck, I would’ve never imagined the things that have taken place over the past 15!

I’m starting to realize (for really real kinda realize) that if it’s gonna happen… it’s gonna happen… why am I worried about it? Why all the questions? It’s time to let go. To TRUST. With full abandonment. I won’t throw the cliche “Let go and Let God” at you… although it’s fitting.

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If you’re reading this and you don’t believe in God…that’s okay.

If you’re reading this and you are like, “Um, she’s a real weirdo”… that’s okay too. I AM weird. You have no idea… here… look…

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(yes, I can become a bride, a superhero and lift an 80 year old woman with no problem. BOOM.)

I do ask a lot of questions. Probably, maybe always will… I’m just hoping they get a bit simpler… “Did you wash your hands? Can you pass the salt?… “

Oh… here’s one for YOU…

“Have you checked your pockets?”

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When the Going Gets Tough… I Take a Mental Vacation

I have no sense of “normal” when it comes to blogging. Some days I shoot for “a blog a day” and then when reality strikes, I’m lucky to make “a blog a week”. When things get REALLY interesting? Sayonara blogo.

Do you ever have a week where you can’t help but laugh? And suddenly it’s a cry? Then a stomach ache? Then a great desire for complete solitude and few Snow Patrol songs?

Let’s just say this past week?… it made the cut.

When this sort of thing happens, I take a mental vacation.

If I were to put my mental state into a seven step recovery program, it would go like this:

STEP ONE: Put a big fat kabosh on Facebook

Honestly, who really cares if someone is going to a concert, dressing their kids up in weird outfits or doesn’t like the current state of their living condition? If you want REAL entertainment or status updates, read the wall of a college bathroom.

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STEP TWO: Indulge in reality TV shows

I suppose I get gratification in the fact that I never dated a man who was simultaneously dating 8 other women while being videotaped in swimming suits worn on foreign territory.

OR maybe it’s the joy I get from realizing that my ability to hoard copious amounts of recyclable objects for the sake of educational “projects” hasn’t landed me a spot on TLC. 

OR maybe it’s the fact that I can eat a T-Bone steak while watching people do jumping jacks for Jillian Michaels. 

STEP THREE: Do something out of the ordinary

For me, this happened through a Thai cooking class that I registered for at college. The odd part? It wasn’t actually  a “cooking” class but an educational blurb on Thai Culture. The best part was the endearing Thai instructor asking what I ate for dinner last night, only to mistake my reply  “I didn’t eat last night, I just came here” for the phrase, “I didn’t cheat last night, I just drank beer”… what’s not to like there, eh?

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PS. I ate Thai snacks while watching a documentary on the history of rice and coconut. Win win.

STEP FOUR: Zone out to various things on the internet

I recommend YouTube web series episodes, health websites to make sure that your insides aren’t going to fall out because you ate cheese that sat in your purse for 24 hours or browsing rental options on Netflix only to realize that you wouldn’t make it through an entire movie without falling asleep.

STEP FIVE: Look at family photos

Be prepared that you might suddenly realize that the length of time that gaps laughing with loved ones to the current day is obnoxiously long…  that you haven’t seen your family in weeks or months because somehow the days have flown by, filled with all kinds of “stuff”. You WILL get sad (unless of course you dislike your family, in which this time is a cause for celebration… you can move straight through to “joy week”).

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STEP SIX: I laminate things

I create things and I laminate them. Something about your ideas being sealed up in a thermal pouch, will give you comfort.

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STEP SEVEN: Eat, Drink and Be Married (if the latter is non applicable, you will find satisfaction in the eating & drinking portion, alone)

Baked Items, Buttered Items, Alcoholic Items, Chocolate Dairy Items… all beneficial to accomplish this step. Oh… and it’s really nice to enjoy these things with your spouse who lovingly kneads the knots out of your shoulder blades as you house a family of stress there.

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I plan on this week being a whole lot better.

I plan for this week to include massive amounts of productivity with a few stops into the world of Social Networking.

PERHAPS… instead of devouring hunks of red meat, I’ll do some jumping jacks of my very own…

JUST MAYBE, I will actually see my tribe (aka my big ol’ family) and laugh (this generally includes weird songs, strange dance moves and poop jokes).

OVERALL… I will rejoice in the mere fact that mercy and grace just happen to renew themselves on a regular basis... Happy Monday.

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Reality Bites

If you read a post called, “I’ll wash my hair with snow”, just a few short days ago, you may recall the anticipatory plan of creating a “Little Chef”?! False. Here’s what REALLY happened over the course of our 48 Hour Snow-Day

It began with muffin making, thanks to Joy the Baker… they were the Maple Syrup Pancake Muffins and wow… do this. We added Blueberries to ours (since the original plan was just good ol’ Blueberry Muffins)… boy am I glad we got fancy (as you will see in the Before & After, below).

Let’s NOTE: I did this by myself, while my child played with Legos. He was NOT interested in a culinary experience at this point and then said, “Sorry mom, I’m just not much of a sweet tooth… can I have something warm and like, chips?”. Um.

blueberry maple syrup pancake muffins  blueberry maple syrup pancake muffin gone

So then, THIS happened… and I’ll just say that all things “Super Mom” (you know, direct involvement 24-7 with themes and high fives), went straight out the front door. I was all consumed with this book:

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But…one must take intermittent breaks to ensure that a child doesn’t end up on Dr. Phil or the likes of Judge Judy, someday. So, we did this…

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Created a Spiderman & “Hulkwing” (my child’s super hero name) coloring book, thanks to Auntie & Uncle!!! So fun! And of course I participated in this because it involved coloring. I. LOVE. COLORING (Yes, I’m five).

Then some of this…

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Built a Super Mario level out of blocks (I did a lot of observing with my nose deep in the book while tossing out the occasional, “oh, yeah? Wow… yeah…” for good measure (we’re being honest, right?!)

Then the good stuff that causes me to be true to my original word… We DID cook… I taught the tot to make soup. I come from a very “soupy” gang.

My mom always made soup in large quantities while we were growing up (we would complain of smelling like meat and broth, going to school. You know, those kids that have that veggie soup BO but ours did not involve the lack of bath). So THAT combined with my father, who would walk blocks to his “Soupy Grandma’s” house to fill his little “bucket” with soup, equals the inevitable adoration for large pots of broth and veggies.

Since I’m fairly certain that my blood stream contains stock, it’s only right that we continue this legacy and teach a small child to take roasted chicken carcasses to the point of noodle-y soup goodness. This. Must. Be. Done:

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I will say that the combination of tiny hands chopping, the need to watch a pot boil and Face-In-Bowl, has me singing like Julie Andrews wrapped in a floral curtain… they ARE my favorite things.

Also, because it was technically “Art Day” at school, we found it necessary to connect with our Renaissance selves and make art. We painted. WE- yes, I stopped for this too… I’m not a complete turd. Well, debatable indeed…

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And then, because I will ALWAYS stop reading a book, working, playing or basically ANYTHING to consume good food (priorities, people. I ALWAYS find time to eat), this Greek, messy, goodness on a plate was devoured:

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There was also time built in for some popcorn… because I REALLY enjoy Popcorn and had just read an article about Cooking Popcorn with Coconut Oil (Coconut Oil is another semi-obsession of late)

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we paired it with a living room picnic and Rango.

So, the 2 Day Snow-a-thon was both productive and semi-vacation-esque. And in this Snow-day extravaganza, you can include the Quiet Times (a one and a half hour “split” of family members where we all go off to our own places for sanity and quiet so we don’t end up like psycho Jack Nicholsons), the occasional shout of frustration (by any one of us at any given time) or the glass o’ cocktail that was consumed in the evening hours after a difficult day of coloring, eating and reading.

Did we go outside? No.

Did we cook our little hearts out? Not really.

Did we enjoy being inside our warm house, completely away from normal routines with the ability to steal smooches or hugs at any given moment? Absolutely.

You see, I learned in the first 48 hours that my child was born, that the days never go like you may plan and the best part is that it just doesn’t matter.

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B-I-N-G-E

First- This is SPOILER FREE (I despise spoilers)!!

Now… (feel free to sing along, you know the tune… B-I-N-G-O… channel your inner Kindergartener)… “There was a lady that had a problem, and “BINGE” was its name-e (it ends in e).” Enough of that,  I have a confession. I have a problem…. I….  binge. Seriously, grossly, binge. Yep. That’s it. Binge (you’d think I’d be a lot thinner).

Yes, sometimes it’s brownies and/or popcorn… wait, I’m getting off track… this is NOT my problem. It’s not food. It’s entertainment. Not like, “I need Liza Minnelli and Elton John on my doorstep” type of entertainment.

Here’s the reality… convenience is the enemy. Okay, exaggeration… it’s not an enemy per say… but I’m getting real fat, quick! Cause I’m doing all of this binging and NOT purging! I just find out about more “things” and am always ready to consume ….  it is media overdrive. BUT that’s not my only problem… I get into something and then I gotta see it through until the bitter end!

Exhibit A- I put in a “request” at our local library for a book that I’d heard my professor talk about, “Gone Girl”. “Get it”, she said… “it’s got some vulgarity in it but it’s REALLY good”. So… I thought, “I’ll try it” (as if I have ANY time to do recreational reading these days).

Fast forward 6 weeks.

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I go to the library and conveniently pick my book up off the shelf. I did not need a card catalog (yes, they had those once). It went more like this… I sat in our class, heard the title rattled off by the Professor, entered it in a search on my phone’s local library app, requested it and BAM 6 weeks later… BINGE.

Now, this is not like a “wow… this is a good book, I’ll read it before I go to bed at night” type of binge… This is like a “I’m cramming 400 pages at a time in my face and LOVING IT”, binge. Could. Not. Stop. Reading. 1 1/2 snow days, no nails and a bunch o’ rapid heart beat later. “Gone Girl”- Gone. Done. Bam.

Exhibit B- TV Shows. One day of Flu and I watched every episode of Portlandia Season 1 AND 2. Rapid fire, Netflix. Convenience at its very best. (and we’re not even going to discuss the fact that I need to have pancakes and mimosa spit-takes with Carrie Brownstein and Fred Armisen- save it).

Exhibit C- More TV Shows. One conversation with someone about a show called, “Nashville” and I use the convenience of Hulu to shove my face full of hours of this show to catch up on Season 1 and then, when I don’t see them air originally because of college (yes, I am actually an educated person and still doing all of this), I watch them later on the computer (convenience nightmare). WOW. Really?

With fist in the air, I want to shout… “Curse you, technology! Curse you! You have made me into a mad woman!”

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but I don’t because I’m looking on ABC.com for the most recent airing of the Bachelor because after it’s mentioned in just one podcast (yet another “thing”),  I think… “that would be funny to watch one of those”… 5 episodes later. BINGE CITY, USA. UGH!!!!!

(It may or may not be in my best interest to say that I’ve done this with “Brothers & Sisters“, “Battlestar Gallactica” (and don’t even get me started on how good this show is), “Lost“, “The Walking Dead“, “Parks & Recreation“, “Parenthood“… the list goes on but I’m getting  really embarrassed… or excited… can’t decide).

I’m not kidding. Is there Tech Anonymous? Over Watching/Reading Recovery Groups? HELP a sista out!

or don’t because I need to finish watching this… I’ll be with you after these 18 episodes and no sleep

 

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I’ll Wash My Hair With Snow

NO… I won’t do that (maybe) but I can hear the voice of Rosemary Clooney, now. And here’s a rockin’ mix-up for those of you that may have adoration for the 1954 classic, “White Christmas” like I do (and mom, I’m talking to you) .

But really, folks, if you live in the ‘Lou, you’re FULLY aware that we have operation Lockdown Snowdown, today. It’s NUTS. If you’re from a northern state (like our family members in Michigan), you may just guffaw at the fact that we’ve shut down over 765 schools/businesses with nothing but dirt on the ground. “Yep, it’s a comin’!” And nope, I am NOT complaining that it’s an official “Snowday”.

What does a snowday mean for this lady? It means breakfast in more than 15 minutes- no gathering books, bags, lunches, shoes and outdoor gear in a mad shuffle while chugging a cup of coffee and cramming an English Muffin down my throat. It means an hour of reading Gone Girl (because that’s the guaranteed span of time available while the boy is in “quiet time”) and it also means that I have to be wildly creative (as to not go insane) for the other 11 hours of the day.

How have we gotten through this before? Super Hero Day, Shrek Day, Beach Day… you get it… “themes” are key, here.

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So what is on the plate for THIS particuar day? In honor of my giving up motivation for Lent, we will do nothing. Okay, that’s not gonna happen… I have a six year old, c’mon.

Eh Hem… in honor of this snowday, we will be having a “Little Chef” day.

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We’re going to cook our pants off (stay tuned for a post in the future?!).

Yes, I’ve already got the gear ready to make a man-chef out of my little boy. Have I mentioned that a man in the kitchen is like having The Lumineers play at your birthday party? Awesome. And… since I’m officially in charge of molding the young man that dwells in my presence (because of my housing him in the womb for 9 months of my life), it’s my motherly “duty” to have him twirling knives and chopping kale by age 10.

So weather your day is filled with ice or sun, enjoy it. Make it a “theme” day… even if your theme is “Sit in office chair and reheat leftovers day”, embrace it.

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35 is the new 65

35 becomes 65 when you don’t consider the process of “aging”. I refuse to believe that any of my muscles can and will hurt if I do strange things to them, or that my bones aren’t strong, or that sometimes it’s just not in my best interest to contort my body to fit tiny crevasses. What am I even talking about?

A trip to St. Lou’s City Museum City Museum aka best place ever .

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*WARNING… The videos you are about to see (if you choose to click on them), loop… be prepared… it’s like a wreck, you can’t stop. Won’t stop, watching.

First, it’s awesome. Period. Love this place. I love it’s character, design, whimsical nature and the fact that you can shoot your body down a 10 story twisty slide 10 Story Slide Video Made While Waiting, make a clay sculpture, climb through mosaics, swing (awkwardly) from a rope Awkward Rope Swinging Video and play in a pit of bounce balls all in one morning.

What’s the problem with THAT you might say?

It begins with the climb up the 10 stories to get to the top of the twisty slide, the military shimmy that is required to get through numerous small passages, so you don’t lose your child, and then there’s the awkward rope swing experience which requires both upper body strength and coordination (which one may argue my abilities in either of the two areas). You can choose to do none of these… but… why?

Truth? I couldn’t get my body to rise out of bed with pizazz this morning but I inched my way into an upright position to mosey toward the coffee maker for false energies. I sipped my cup of Jo thinking about the moments I spent with my boy and brother yesterday. Yes, I had to pop some Aspirin and walk a bit slower today but it was all worth it.

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I hope I never remember my age and always play like I’ve lost my mind completely.

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The Orange One

There are moments when I channel my inner Hulk and get mad power.

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I become like one of those news stories where a woman randomly lifts a car to save her child’s life… (or something like that with less heroism).

Let’s be very “real” here and say that when I get my mind on something, I make it happen.

For instance one time, in passing, I had been told that there was a possibility that I could move from the main floor of my parent’s house, into the basement of that house. Now, as a young adult, this was like someone saying, “you can move from the Bronx to the Upper East Side”… I was all over it. Like, big time on it.I waited until I was the only one at home and suddenly became One Girl and No Truck. I moved an entire office upstairs and my bedroom downstairs. It was amazing. I have no idea how this happened. I mean… a bed, a desk, a dresser, the whole thing! Up and down a flight of basement stairs. NARROW basement stairs. I was a woman… on… a… mission. Boom. That happened.

NOTE: These things typically happen as a result of watching a show on HGTV or TLC. Within a span of 30 minutes, I can have a living room transformed from Sanford and Son straight to Cosby. No lie. Ask my husband of “limited change” if this is indeed a reality and he will confirm this.

You see, one thing I’ve learned, however, is that my enjoyment of instant gratification, through interior changes, can be the epitome of someone else’s demise.

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Another example…

When I was 20 something, I felt that the stone fireplace in the basement of which I was dwelling, needed a change. Now, I need to probably mention that:

A. The home we (my parents, brothers and I) were living in was- a RENTAL

B. I was NOT the one writing checks for the rental and

C. Not everyone likes the look of a painted fireplace…

In fact, it is VERY probably (because of proof and raised voices) that someone(s) would NOT want you to paint a fireplace orange in a home that is being rented. Do we see where this is headed?

Now, I REALLY brought this to a new level of “exciting” by playing a little game called,  “While You Were Out” (TLC show from 2002). I painted the entire stone fireplace (with primer, main coat and gloss) orange while my family was in (DRUMROLL) Chicago for the weekend (insert sound byte of crashing instruments). NOT a stellar move.

The fireplace looked great, yes, but… how was I going to casually mention that I had skipped over the part of getting permission and somehow whirled my way into the body of Laurie Hickson-Smith!?

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*here is me with something orange… if I find a pic of the actual fireplace, I’ll add it to the post.

Here is what WAS a good idea… I let them know with a good 261 miles between us. They were in Chicago and I would be sticking in St. Louis. This was a good move. I’m fairly certain that I could still here the tone of my father’s voice bouncing off the Arch… but… who’s to say?

Now… we can just skip ahead past the years of multiple references of my making a bad choice and head straight to the point where the choice was made to move OUT of the rental. You know, the process of moving out of a rental house is very interesting. The owner typically requests things like, “we want the walls back to neutral colors, the home cleaned, hardware replaced and…. you know, like a stone fireplace that has suddenly been thrown up on in Rust colored paint, back to “normal”.”

Do you know how ABNORMAL the process of getting a fireplace back to it’s natural born condition after it’s been primed, painted and glossed IS? Here’s the cliff-note on that abnormal endeavor… paint remover, drill brush, 103 degree St. Louis summer, minimal lighting and a girl that quickly realized that Benjamin Moore’s Tangerine Dream was the center of a doggone nightmare.

The 3 step moral of the story is this…

1. You should NOT paint until you have both a mortgage and a moderate amount of wisdom.

2. You should NOT paint anything that requires a metal brush and 20 hours of removal.

3. You should ALWAYS have over 200 miles between your “I did something awesome” and the recipient’s choice words and brow sweat.

Period.

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Love Will Keep Us Together

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Yes, this is the calendar day of recognizing love and affection. I’ll be honest, I’m not truly one for “Hallmark” holidays but I get it. AND… 5 years ago, I would tell you that the surprise bundle of flowers or the night out to dinner (sans child) is what I would appreciate most. Not this year, my friend, not… this… year.

You see, last night I looked at a “to-do” list of 13 line items (work, college, room mothering, etc…) while having no idea how to pull it all off. SUDDENLY a man (chime in super hero theme song), greeted me to save the day. This man had worked all day, then did the dishes, then helped our child with a project for school, then baked the rest of the chocolate chip cookies (the ones that I left “mid-bake” because I got side-tracked), then went to the grocery to pick up goods for the classroom valentine’s day party, then did the laundry, then gave our kiddo a bath and grand finaled it by gathering all of the garbage to go out. THEN, he even managed to get a workout in before calling it a night. Wow. Passion. Love. Yes…

SIDE NOTE: I’m most impressed by the workout because I usually give that up after the dishes and trip to the grocery store. That’s just me.

Ladies and gentleman… there is not greater love than a man that will come along side you to wipe the tears from your overwhelmed face and then shampoo a kid’s head and scrape crust off of multiple pots and pans. No… greater…  love.

You can take your dark chocolates housed in a heart-shaped box, take your bottle of champagne or long stem red roses and hang on to them, I’ve traded mine in for a hot date with a real man. A man that is my Rockstar… seriously, he’s the Lenny Kravitz of married life.

It’s the unconditional, messy, “I got your back” love that keeps us together.

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Okay, THAT and a bottle of wine (I AM a lady… let’s not be irrational).

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Next Friday is Haiwaiian Shirt Day…

“So you know, go ahead and wear a Haiwaiin Shirt and Jeans…” (for those of you that have never watched Office Space from 1999, you may not jive and I highly recommend that you get in the “know” but be prepared for a few vulgar phrases)

Haiwaiin shirts scream vacations (or a tacky themed workday) and that’s EXACTLY what I’ve got on my mind, today. I don’t know if it’s the coconut oil I got in the mail (yes, I’m trying some DIY facials) or the fact that it’s been snowy lately but I’m ready to scream a little Belinda Carlisle at the Midwest.

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Why do I like vacations? For a few reasons that may not be obvious….

One. I like snacks. Car snacks, drink treats, grazing, munching. You can’t do this at home and feel guiltless. On vacation, however, it’s part of the gig. Traveling in a car and not wanting to stop? SNACK IT. Sitting in the kitchen and waiting for everyone to head to the beach? SNACK IT. Taking a few things to the beach for the day? SNACK IT. Sitting on the deck with a beverage and no dinner? SNACK IT. See?! The snack tucks its tiny face right in there so discreetly and deliciously. SNACK… IT. Boom.

Two. Beverages. At home, you wouldn’t open a beverage that contains hops until after 7 or 8pm when your child(ren) sleep and it’s time to unwind. Vacation? Beverage at 4pm. It’s the quintessential early Happy Hour moment. You’re on vacation. Wine with lunch? Vacation. And maybe it’s not even something boozy that you’re rolling with. Maybe you have coffee at 8pm because you can stay up and play cards like a spaz without worry. Vacation.

Three. (because we can’t just talk food and drink). Family. Now, for some, the thought of this may scare you and cause you to plan your own, “me party” while isolating your family 5,000 feet away on their own remote island. I for one, LOVE my family. Like… if I could be with any group of people for extended periods of time? Family. And not just my local tribe, the whole dang crew. From all over. On vacation, we play. We laugh. We dress like Spiderman to humor a six year old. Family, rocks.

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Four. Tech break. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy technology and happen to overdose on it more as the days go by. Twitter. Facebook. Instagram. Tumblr. Podcasts. Pandora. I’d go on but I’m feeling  antsy as I sit here typing and not listening to Joy the Baker while looking at pictures of people’s babies and reading tweets of sketchy government action. Sometimes, we need a break. Me. Family. Nature. Yo Momma.

Okay, now that we’re all salivating for a beer, a large pickle and some meat products on the deck of a breezy vacation home…

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close your eyes and pretend that you’re there…away. Snack. Beverage. Family (or whatever you need, here).  I’m going to watch this video that my youngest hipster brother made last year. Vacation. Boom.

We Went Up North

 

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