Is it Bedtime Yet?

*Disclaimer: The portions of this blog post depicting my husband's obvious lapse in judgement were shared with permission...and a laugh.*

It started last night.

I reminded my husband that it was his turn to get up and feed the baby in the middle of the night. His response was that I should do it since he has to get up and go to work in the morning (he gets up at an ungodly (sarcasm) 7:50 am) and I can stay home and take a nap if I'm tired.

Sleep did not balm the wound on that one, so I woke up in a fowl mood.

Then I got to deal with the insurance some more, who refuse to cover any of the medical expenses (in upwards of $200,000, ya know, pocket change) stemming from my son's NICU stay and life flight. They tell me to deal with the hospital about it. The hospital tells me to deal with them. I think that after they both tell me this, they meet up for Dr. Pepper in a Sonic parking lot and laugh at me.

I went to my son's parent/teacher conference this morning, making special care not to wear yoga pants. After that, I took my three little darlings to the park to play until they were tired enough to take a nap spend some quality time together, and after an hour (which I personally find to be a very reasonable allotment of time since I didn't get to bring a friend to gossip with while the kids played) I said we had to go home. If only it had been that easy. My three year old responded with taking off her left shoe and throwing it at me, and then standing by the playground screaming bloody murder while I tried to play the "fine, I'm leaving" game with her and load the other two into the car. The game didn't work, as she has a head as thick as a ball of solid steel. Someone walked up to her and probably thought she was seriously distraught, because my daughter is an incredible actress, and bent over with the body language of "Where is your mommy, little girl?" I could see it all very clearly from where I was putting the stroller back into my trunk (maybe 20 feet away) and thought, "Oh, crap." That's when Ellie punched her and ran away screaming. Ellie has a solid right hook...excellent follow through. She was still screaming when I got to her (no tears, just wails of horror) and I picked her up, tossed her over my shoulder and mouthed an "I'm sorry" as we walked to the car. I tried to act normal and in control while quietly whispering threats into her ear. Then I wondered how many people were watching me and wondering if I was kidnapping the small human currently screaming like a banshee and only wearing one shoe.

So, we came home. Where I instructed my kids to clean up their room and was subsequently called "the hugest meanest butt hole" by my six year old. Then, when I found that my daughter had escaped and was not in fact in her room cleaning, she came out of my room wearing a heavy application of my lipstick but acting nonchalant as if she was just going for an afternoon stroll. Refer to the previous about her acting abilities. When I went into my room to assess the damages I was lucky not to find any remnants of the makeover. I did, however, find gum in the carpet and a broken curtain rod. Occupational hazard.

While fixing the curtain rod, I heard someone yell, "IS THAT POOP?" I walked in to find Ellie waving her hand in front of her nose and denying any involvement in the aforementioned matter. Landon says he saw Ellie do it. Ellie scoffs at that. Let's just say that my daughter blamed her dad. The accused has not confirmed nor denied the allegations.

The rest of the afternoon has gone by in a blur. I vaguely remember getting baby throw up in my hair and answering the door for a neighbor who will probably go home and say bad things about me in concerned tone to her husband. I said bad things about her to myself when she left. In all fairness it was mostly because she's skinny and tan and I'm 6 weeks post baby, so it angered me greatly. I may or may not have seen red fire. It wasn't her fault. But I blame her and I'm not ashamed.

I would go ahead and call the day a parenting failure. However, I diligently remembered to refill my birth control and not for nothing, but pretty sure the pharmacist knew exactly why I was getting it filled due to the two older kids hitting each other behind me. I also typed the last few sentences of this with one hand so I could hold in a binkie for my youngest with the other hand. On that note, I'm going to go now. Pray for me.

So, hubby, when do I get my nap?

Back and on the Upswing

Oh. Migoodness.

I've been gone for a long time, right?!

Well, really, I've been here. As in here, in my house. Mostly on the couch or in my bed, and mostly not wearing any makeup and living in pajamas (I'll explain in a moment...) But I've been gone away from here. As in, here on my blog.

BUT......

Well, truth be told, I've had a lot going on in the ol' personal life. Long story short? I'm pregnant. Yeah, I was surprised, too. And, though I'm thrilled and beyond blessed and so grateful---pregnancy makes me very, violently, horrifically, unbelievably ill. At least for the first several months. On top of that, there was a death in my family. We lost my grandpa to leukemia recently, which has been hard and sad for my family.

So, I took a few months off from blogging, gift basket and gift bouquet creating, personal shopping, makeup, styling photo shoots, styling in general, and, to put it frankly, any sort of moving or becoming vertical (except to throw up...TMI? Sorry...) and focused on my family and my fetus.

Now that things seem to be on the upswing, I'm anxious and excited to get back into my work, but first I want to quickly say thank you to all of the friends and family who have been really supportive of me and my husband and kids while we dealt with my illness and the loss of my awesome Grandpa Tug.

But things are getting much more functional, for lack of a better word, around these parts and I've been having a fun time doing some personal shopping and filling some gift basket and bouquet orders. I even wore mascara today. I told you...things are looking up!

I'm excited to incorporate some maternity concepts into my Wardrobe Wednesdays and Thursday Threads (and everything else, really) but FEAR NOT, this has not become a pregnancy blog! Just as my life bends and twists with the changes in the air, so will my blog. But one thing stays the same--we are always searching. Though the last few months I've been mostly searching for anti-nausea ideas and ways to keep down fluids without incorporating the dreaded IV Therapy and all that nonsense, the fact remains the same. This has always been a place where I go to search and discover. Be it clothes, trends, fashion, music, ideas, anecdotes, love and laughter or, if we're being real, a lot of my general annoyances with society and life, there is always more to find and ALWAYS more to learn.

So happy to be back into the swing of it, back building gift baskets, back in the shops and boutiques and back at my computer desk. I've missed it, that's for sure.

I'd love to hear any suggestions for posts or reviews so don't be afraid to hit up the comments!
Adios for now!!

Today

Today, I shamelessly skipped church and cried cramps.
I wore flannel and sipped Dr. Pepper and read. Like, I read. A book.

Today, the only thing I wore on my face was Cetephil and Carmex.
I watched makeup tutorials on YouTube and planned out my outfits for a week. These two things shouldn't up my endorphins as much as they do. But alas, I'm unashamed.

Today, I painted my nails. Oh, and before that I used cuticle oil. On my cuticles. So now my cuticles are in excellent shape and my nails are shiny. And colorful.

Today, I ate those chocolate Cadbury things in copious amounts. I snuggled under animal print blankets and read blog posts on my iPad. For hours.

I watched New Girl and laughed with my kids and husband.

And drank a lot of Dr. Pepper.

And friends, I'm calling it productive.

-L

My Weekend in Snapshots

I went to school on a snowy Saturday morning, and obviously with an empty tank of gas.

I did laundry and other domestic things...#wefinallyhavecleantowels

It snowed.

A lot.

So I drank warm things.

And wore warm things.

And then we wrapped a birthday gift for Uncle Josh and made him a birthday card that we subsequently forgot to attach to the gift.

Then the kitchen actually got cleaned.

And Landon's room went from this, to this:

Which is something of a miracle.

Ellie's room stayed like this.

We had our weekly Sunday morning breakfast.

And went to church.

We picked our candy out of the Santa calendar.

And tore a paper off our our Christmas countdown chain.

We drove to Grandma and Grandpa's house for Sunday dinner.

Then we came home to make apple cinnamon cupcakes.

 They wrestled around on floor.

 And I sat down and read a book.

And now the house is quiet. And finals are approaching. And instead of sleeping, I'll be studying. 

And I think I need a weekend from my weekend.

-L

Where I've Been

I was recently asked where I've been.

I don't really know. I mean, I'm a working mom. I'm a student. I'm doing the best I can, really. And blogging, for me, is something I do just for me. I love to write and I love the things I write about. But this blog isn't something that I do because I have to. So sometimes I live my life for a few weeks and go without writing. And that's okay. I'm still here. And if there are certain things you want to hear about, leave me a comment about it and I'll get on it.

Sometimes we just live, ya know? We get up and go to work. We get home and realize we'd better find something for dinner. We bathe the babies and read stories and sing songs and say prayers. We finally have a quiet house and we start laundry and we do dishes and we sit down with a text book. We think about how someone ought to mop the floor but it's past midnight already so we go to bed and we do it all over again the next day. And somehow in there we try to date our spouse or go to the grocery store. We try to stop and play a game on the floor with the babies or teach them that they need to clean their room. We remind the little one not to pee pee in her panties and we tell the older one what a good big brother he his. We try to pack the preschool back pack or remember to wash the sheets..or if we're really crazy we try to stop and put gas in the car.

That's where I've been.

But now, can we talk about how much I love this song by Bette--which is the name for the one man band that is Bethany Joy Lenz. Check it out here, and it's also available on iTunes. It's a great mix of jazz, old soul, and I can taste country in it too. And her voice is great.

I also love her cover of We Belong when she was with the band Everly. And who can forget her and Tyler Hiltons cover of Stars Go Blue? One Tree Hill, anyone?! #dontyoujudgeme

I have some Birchbox and Wardrobe Wednesday love coming your way soon. So just sit tight and we'll be back to business soon.

-L

Tired

I haven't written in a while.

Why?

Because, I am exhausted.

I'm emotionally drained.
And physically drained.
And all of the other kinds of drained that I'm too tired to list.

Choices drain me.
Lack of choices drain me.
People drain me.
Lack of people drain me.

But do you want to know what doesn't drain me?

Pumpkin muffins.

Yeah, pumpkin muffins.
Pumpkin muffins don't let you down or wear you out or keep you awake at night.
They're just there. And they make everything better because they mean that Fall is coming and the colors will change and I'll get to wear those Fall-esque clothes....which is what real happiness is about, right?

Unless, of course, I have to bake those pumpkin muffins myself. In that case...

...I'm too tired.

-L

Letting the Colors Change

Hey all!!
I'm currently blogging in the car (so forgive me my grammatical shortcomings) cherry coke and fashion magazines in tow. We spent the weekend in Vegas, and the getaway was much needed. We got dressed up and hit the town last night but mostly we just let the kids swim and hung out with the family. We left Friday afternoon and will be back by bedtime tonight (Sunday) but the quick trip was worth it.

Life has been crazy the last few weeks (thus, my lack of blogging) and the Hall family just needed to get out of town. There is something about physically removing yourself from your surroundings that provides clarity. Often, I've realized that most of my problems can be solved if I just momentarily remove myself from the situation. It's as if I'm allowed to briefly see my own problems from an priceless outside perspective.

This quick little getaway was not only an opportunity for self reflection but it also sort of marks the summer ending. Things will change. Within the next few weeks, the temperatures will start to drop a little bit at a time. Soon, the leaves will change and my beautiful Utah mountains will glaze over with auburn and honey colored trees. Nature will look dead, but it's not. It's beginning the process of starting over. It's allowing the natural cycle of things to take course. And I think there is a lesson in that. Often, we (*cough*....er.....I...) try so hard to be in control and chart the course of how things go.

But sometimes the healing comes from just letting go and allowing the colors to just change.

It's time for me to stop fighting so hard and just let my colors change.

The Little Things

Each night, before bed, I sit with Landon and we talk for a minute. I ask him what the best and worst parts of his day were, and then I tuck him in for the night.

Tonight, my Landon said to me, "The best part of my day was winning my race with Grandpa!"

It's the little things.

That's all I'm saying, people.

-L

Living for Today

I have been reminded lately how short life can be. We live our lives with a "tomorrow attitude" and a "yesterday perspective". We spend our days planning what we will need to have, need to do and need to accomplish in our tomorrows instead of what and who we need to think about today. We worry about who has hurt or offended us yesterday instead of who we should forgive and love today. We are all just people. We are not invincible. We are not bulletproof. We have absolutely no guarantee for tomorrow, and I can't help but think that at the end of my life, I probably won't look back and think, "I wish I would have done more laundry. I wish I wouldn't have forgiven that person. I wish I never would have got back in touch with that friend. I wish I would have read less stories to my kids and I wish I would have spent more time at work."

Nah.

I don't think that's what I'll be thinking about.

We are human, and yes, part of having a good today is planning on tomorrow. We should save our money. We should sweep the floor. We should study for that test, and we should have those goals. Sure, too much living in the moment can be a dangerous mindset when important things are disregarded in the name of "living for today". But! Sometimes, you're halfway through folding a basket of laundry and you have to just ignore the rest, because there are babies who want you to read them stories. 

And life is too short to wish I'd finished that basket of laundry instead.

So I left it.

And I read stories.

I wish the things that reminded me of this weren't so tragic, but they are sometimes. And I've been reminded to worry less about yesterday, obsess less about tomorrow, and actually live for today a little bit more.

That doesn't involve laundry. It involves bedtime stories. 

-L 

It's Just Not That Kind of Blog

I was recently an eavesdropper to a conversation about the typical "mommy blogs". You know, those stay at home moms. The ones who have time to bake all day, always have a clean house, make crafts and actually own a sewing machine.

The conversation went on to say that these moms are "fake". That they probably have husbands who don't care about them or compliment them enough, so they go to the internet and create a faux identity and make us feel bad about ourselves for not being that perfect mommy.

The concept was brought up that these blogs are the cause of our guilt induced and self destructive ideas about our inadequacies as mothers because they force us to compare our worst to someone else's very best, most photographable moments.

Um...

What?!

No.

I'm just throwing this out there: It seems to me that a lot of things go around the internet, blogs, facebook, instagram, twitter, etc. showing the perfection of another person's life. But diminishing another person's light, or saying that there is no way that they're "that good, that way, that crafty, that pretty, or that perfect"...that, my friends, is judgemental. That's exactly what you're irritated with those mommies for being so arrogant as to be.

How dare they put makeup on before they take a picture?

How dare they do the dishes before they show the refinished kitchen table?

How dare they wipe off the Kool-Aid moustache before posting a picture of the kids?

I can't help but think that you might have judged them had they had a bare face, a dirty kitchen, or a messy kiddo??

I think it's less about judging and comparing others' best to our worst, and more about judging ourselves.

I love those blogs.

I love seeing those chocolate chip cookies she just freshly baked before her adoring children came home from school. Am I going to bake them? Hell, no. I don't have time for that. I'm going to send my husband to the grocery store to buy me a bag of them.

I love reading the tutorial about how she recovered her dining room chairs. Am I going to recover my dining room chairs? Please. I live in a 4plex. I don't have a dining room. But the colors are pretty!!

Just because I love those blogs doesn't mean I have to be them. I can be me, and be real without it. Is this one of those blogs? Ha. No. But someone showing you their best doesn't make them any less flawed, and it certainly doesn't make them any less real.

And just in case you don't take me seriously, this is what is real in my life. Because though I have respect for and love reading those blogs or seeing those pictures on facebook, this just isn't that kind of blog.

Real:
Walking into your bathroom to see that your daughter has decided she needed a makeover. You've suddenly hit pan on three eye shadows that you've yet to even use yet. Odd how that happens.

You ignore the mounds of laundry all around you needing to be folded because your new title is Jungle Gym. And that's better than Laundry Folder, any day.



-L

Five Irrational Fears

Inspired by a hilarious blogger (and my friend) that you can find here, and her most recent hilarious blog post, I decided it's high time for me to discuss some of my irrational fears.

Jena hit the nail on the head in her post when she asked if she was alone in her irrational fears. I submit, she is not! We all have "normal person" phobias. You know, like spiders or snakes or heights, etc. But what about the ridiculous ones? Nobody cares if you're scared of spiders, sister. Get in line. But here are some not quite so rational phobias I have:

1. Tupperware.

Yes, I'm petrified of opening Tupperware that housed leftovers for any amount of time. I don't care if the food hasn't gone bad, I don't care if the food is all gone and it just needs to be washed. I literally go weak at the knees at the thought of prying open the plastic lid and the inevitable wave of "food smell" that will find me.  I have been known to throw away many-a-Tupperware as an alternative to having to open it, scrape out whatever it was on the inside, and put it in the dishwasher. Not.worth.it.

2. Dumpsters

Any time I have to walk out to a dumpster (like the one outside of my apartment complex, the big one outside of my office building, etc.), walk past a dumpster, or be in it's vicinity whatsoever, I stop short of the enclosing fence and reach deep down to find courage. There are four things that haunt me in their very idea that I associate with dumpsters. Dead bodies, cats, mice, and dead mice. Obviously, the latter is the most terrifying.

3. Chalkboards

Sure, they're not that big of a deal in theory. But I literally cannot concentrate on anything going on when I'm in the vicinity of someone writing on a chalkboard. I'm petrified by the idea that the person writing is going to do that awful thing where the chalk skips and then their fingers hit the board. Ohmyword. I'm done talking about this. It's upsetting.

4. Wings

(I tried to insert a picture of a moth, and I literally could not. It upset me too much.)

Specifically: moths, birds, butterflies and dragonflies.
I will cry. I will sob. I will hyperventilate.
If there is a moth in my house at night, I do not sleep until it's found and destroyed. My philosophy? Kill that thing so that it can't have babies. And a note to my husband: You cannot just smash it against the wall and go about your nightly business. A moth carcass is the last thing I wish to find when I turn on the bathroom light in the morning. Happy wife, happy life. Kill the thing with wings, and hide the evidence.

5. The Taste of Medicine/Vitamins

I'm scared to death that when I take my vitamins or any kind of medicine, that I will taste the pill itself before I drink the water and swallow it. This is especially true for vitamins. They are vile. They are horrible. I'm not even being dramatic here, they're putrid. And in my anxiety and rush to hurry and shove the pill in my mouth, grab the water, and swallow before I taste the powdery outside horrible-ness, I often either spill water everywhere or miss completely and end up not only tasting gagging on the wretched taste of vitamins, but I end up having to start over entirely, and clean up a mess.


Tell me some of your irrational fears! Are Jena and I alone in our acceptance of unrealistic/unreasonable worries?

-L

Stella

I walked into my room today, and I saw the same thing I see every time I walk in there.

But it was kind of different today.

Everyone, meet Stella.

When I first asked for a guitar, I was about 15 years old. I think that my parents probably thought it was a phase or that I wouldn't stick with it, but they bought it for me anyway. She's no Gibson, but I love her, and I wouldn't trade my guitar for the world. She's pulled me through a lot over the years.

That being said, Stella and I have drifted apart a bit the last few months. I've looked up at the wall and seen my guitar, and I've thought about playing, but I've been in a funk, and it hasn't felt right. It hasn't felt the same.

But tonight, feeling inspired for the first time in a while, specifically by a particular song, I dusted her off (literally...she had a layer of dust...) and we hung out for a few hours. Like I said, she's been on the wall for a few months now, so the after a tuning session (or four) that one particular song turned into several.

So now, with fresh callouses and a clearer head, I can't help but think that I'm pretty grateful for that song, and the subsequent followers. I'm glad she's quick to forgive and pick back up where we left off. Maybe Stella and I sent a little light tonight.

1. Beam Me Up- Pink
2. Falls on Me- Fuel
3. Learning to Breathe- Switchfoot
4. From Where You Are- Lifehouse
5. Please Remember Me- Tim McGraw
6. In a Little While- U2
7. Words I Couldn't Say- Leighton Meester
8. World Spins Madly On- The Weepies
...

-L

Worse for the Wear

Brought on by a conversation with some coworkers (read:friends), I have been thinking a lot about how extraordinary our children are. Weather they are our own, our nieces and nephews, our cousins or our best friends' babies, they are ours. I have always felt that it takes a village...

And, subsequently, I've been thinking about how scary it is that the world chips away at their innocence a little bit at a time, until...well...they end up like us.

Sure, it's not so bad to be like us. We're funny, right? We're well rounded. We're good, we're kind, we're honest. Well, we should be. We try to be.

But we're also jaded. And selfish. And unforgiving. We're harsh, untrusting and self indulgent.

But our kids! Our kids are innocent. They think of others. Their worlds are simple:
Be nice.
Say sorry.
Move on.

As adults, it somehow seems that whatever and whomever we try every day to become, is what our children already are. And the world slowly but surely riddles them down into...us.

And we watch it. We see them slowly start to be unkind. Or talk back. The eyes begin to roll. The requests get ignored. Feet are stomped and doors are slammed. We've all had that moment where we overhear our sweet, innocent baby say something that horrifies us.

And then they spend the rest of their lives, just as we are, trying to be the way they started out.

Sometimes, I wish I could freeze time; capture their simple innocence and bottle it so I could force feed it to them for the rest of their lives.

But then I realized, that within the rough edges and jaded years of adulthood, we also have a gift. We give up our innocent views, but we gain experience. We walk away from our days of childhood in order to be a part of the early years of our own babies.

And ironically, though we lose our starry eyed innocence, we gain perspective and experience.

And sometimes, I think that the goal is less to be perfect, and more to just avoid being worse for the wear.

Here's to that, everybody. Happy Friday!

-L

Quirks

I've probably started, rolled my eyes at, and subsequently deleted about fourteen posts thus far.

I'm about this close to scrapping the idea of posting tonight, and resolving to sitting in bed with a cherry coke and watching make-up tutorials on YouTube.

Pathetic? Yes. Don't you dare judge me.

And that thought it what finally gave me the idea I needed for my post tonight.

We've all (alright, except for my dad) seen the Sex and the City episode where Carrie talks about how sometimes, she just wants to do her own thing, and have her own routines, without feeling judged or having someone think that she's weird or crazy. So she does them alone, and it's fine. She gets her stack of saltine crackers and eats them with jam, one by one while she stands at the counter.

We all have our quirky things that we do just because we do them, and we know that they're probably kind of weird and awkward. Thus, we're quiet about them.

Well, no more! At least not for this girl!

Here is a list of the few quirky things I do that you probably wouldn't know if you didn't live with me or know me really well.

1. As I already stated, I'm obsessed with YouTube makeup tutorials. Either I love yelling at the computer screen, admittedly sometimes with a mouth full of ice cream or cereal, telling the girl (or boy, if you're into that thing...no judgement) that she's doing it ALL WRONG, or I sit there memorized at the sheer genius of some random girl in her bedroom who got lucky with a good Mac 224 brush and some decent lighting. Does that make me a loser? A little bit. Am I owning it? You betcha. Ya'll know you do it, too.

2. I totally drink milk straight out of the carton. Almost.every.time. Judge away!!

3. I love reality TV. There is a special place in my heart for Celebrity Rehab and LA Ink.

4. I have a crush on Craig Ferguson, even though he's probably old enough to be my grandpa. Also, he's hysterical, and I watch him and laugh so hard that I literally have tears rolling down my face.

5.I eat all over the house. In bed, in the bathtub, on the couch, at the table, on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, on the living room floor dead center with the TV like a 5 year old, outside, in the car... You name it. But I always usually take my dishes to the sink.

There ya have it. We're all quirky and weird. Now, I'm off to watch music videos on YouTube. Yet another quirky obsession that I'll waste hours doing. Tonight will be filled with the Bush edition of Guitar Sessions.
Never.gets.old.

-L

Lessons I Learned the Hard Way

Hey ya'll. So, it's occurred to me that I'm a bit hard headed.

I know, I know. It's really surprising to everyone because I come across as such a timid, "go with the flow" personality.

But, in reality, I'm actually quite "Type-A". Some may choose to go as far as to say, perhaps, stubborn. Others may or may not even choose to refer to me as "high maintenance" (yes, I'm making air quotes with each of these sets of quotation marks), however I would never be that dramatic or go that far. To each their own.

But regardless, this ailment of mine causes me to take a tougher road from time to time. I've been quoted to say that I like to learn my lessons the hard way.

Boys and girls, buckle up. I am going to share with you some of these very intimate, very personal lessons that I have learned the hard way.

1. Do not, under any circumstances, watch a documentary about Jack the Ripper in the middle of the night when you can't fall asleep.

2. All pancake mixes are not created equal. Krusteaz, no. Hungry Jack, yeah, I'll pass. Generic brand, you're joking. I am a Bisquick girl. I will stand by that.

3. Never, I repeat, NEVER attempt an at-home bikini wax. Some serious procedures require professionals. Respect the art.

4. If your 18 month old finds the play-doh bucket and is unsupervised for even a small amount of minutes, you will end up with much less play-doh than you began with, and an 18 month old with play-doh breath. Calm down, that crap is made for children. It's non-toxic. Unless you have a gluten-free child, in which case, you've got a problem. I learned, whilst scouring all information on play-doh, that it does in fact, contain wheat.

5. If you are obsessive compulsive like me, don't have a melt down when your husband opens a new bag of frozen tortellini before the previous bag has been consumed. This will result in a fight that will end with you looking like a maniac, and your husband laughing at your ridiculous outburst.

6. If you do, in fact, choose not to head my warning about the frozen tortellini and you have a massive blow up about it, I'd recommend not bringing up the frozen waffles, bedazzled tweezers, or half-eaten boxes of cereal.

7. Never assume that it's been long enough to admit to your parents about your poor life choices and think that they'll find it as amusing as you and your friends do.

8. Sometimes, we give our babies bottles of milk, or worse, formula. Sometimes, said bottles fall behind cribs, get stuck between car seats, or wind up shoved under a couch. Sometimes, we find them a number of days weeks later. Do not, under any circumstances, open up said bottles to try to wash them. Just throw them away, and consider it a loss. Trust me, it's not worth opening. Ever.

9. Always check your phone and make sure you aren't butt-dialing anyone before you start talkin' crap on people. Or, just maybe don't talk crap. Meh. Or just check your phone first.

and lastly

10. Always, always smell the lunch meat before you make a sandwich.

And as an honorable mention, I'd like to throw in that taking an Ambien is a BAD idea. You will humiliate yourself. Repeatedly. 

-L

Imperfect

We all have weaknesses. We do, like it or not. We are human. It's just a part of the package.

I have many weaknesses. Maybe more than my fair share.

I'm quick to anger.

I have way too many pairs of shoes.

I can eat an entire batch of those cinnamon rolls that pop out of the can.
I'm not sorry.

I never drink enough water.

And it's hard for us, especially women I think, to accept our weaknesses and imperfections. It's even harder for us to not only just accept them, but accept that it's okay to be imperfect.

We often spend so much time worrying about what we need to do better. We worry about what we're doing wrong, what we may be neglecting, how we look, how we think we ought to look better, skinnier, prettier, etc.

We talk down to ourselves. We think that if we aren't as pretty as someone in a magazine, then we just aren't pretty at all. We think that if we aren't as skinny as someone else, then we must be fat. We think that if we aren't as smart as someone we read about, then we are stupid. If we aren't as inventive as that other person, we're dull. If we can't paint or write or sing or dance like that other girl, we're worthless. If we aren't the best, then we are nothing.

All that negative self-talk or self-gossip gets me thinking. Why does someone else's accomplishments diminish our light? Why, if a friend of mine is a beautiful, smart, happy person, does that make me less pretty, more stupid or unhappy?

It doesn't. It shouldn't.

I've been thinking a lot lately about this problem. I see it so often. I feel it more than I ought to. I worry about it in terms of my children.

I guess what it boils down to for me is not being afraid. We shouldn't be afraid to celebrate others. Complimenting a friend's talent doesn't dim mine. Being proud of myself, or happy for an accomplishment doesn't put down those around me.

We're kind of all in this together, right? Life is hard enough, especially for girls, and we should have one another's backs just a little more often. Less back biting. Less gossip. Less jealousy. Less competition.

There is nothing that I can do to make myself perfect. I'll never look perfect. I'll never sound perfect. I'll never be a genius. I'll never be able to accomplish everything. But I am pretty, I am smart, I am accomplished. And thinking that of myself doesn't mean I think less of anyone else. Knowing those things doesn't make me arrogant.

IT IS OKAY TO LIKE YOURSELF. IT IS OKAY TO BE CONFIDENT.

All I can do is just be better tomorrow than I was today, and feel good about being a little bit better today than I was yesterday. That's kind of a motto that I've lived by for a long time now.

I find beauty in weakness, because weakness and imperfections are human. Humanity is something that I think is perfectly imperfect.

Maybe, just maybe, recognizing and accepting our imperfections, loving other people in spite of theirs, and not worrying that celebrating another's light will be the cause of dimming our own, can help turn our weaknesses into strengths.

Just maybe.

-L

Musings and Cravings

Can we talk, for half a second, about the chaos that is summer semester?

Great, thanks.

Good chat.

Can we also talk about my huge pet peeve with turning on the bathtub and realizing, quite suddenly, that the tab was pulled for the shower? Oh, thanks for that nice little wake up call. The children awaking to four letter words wish to thank you, also.

My chaotic school schedule is the culprit for my lack of depth in some of my recent blog posts. But I hope you are all entering and enjoying the giveaways as there are several more in the pipe!! Also, I've got some great secret weapons coming your way and a review or two!

For now, can I just tell you I am sincerely craving a Five Guys double bacon cheeseburger and fries? With fry sauce. And a dr pepper with a straw. The real deal. Not diet. I'm goin' big in my fantasy feast and I'm not even sorry.

And I would polish off that sucker with a cupcake. Or two.

Ooooh! Or a margarita pizza! (Did I spell that right, Italian lovers?)

By the way, a NYX and ELF orders were TOTALLY made today. Expect a full report.

I'm gonna go do some damage to a box of cereal.

-L

The Dandilion Perspective

Since the weather is getting warmer, the kids and I are spending more time playing outside, going on walks, and loving the sunshine.

Recently, Landon has entered a phase where he likes to bring me "flowers". These flowers are also known as dandelions.

Dandelions aren't a flower. They're a weed.

But, I try to graciously receive yellow bud after yellow bud and thank him over and over, as if each one is even more lovelier than the one before it.

Because to my son, they are.

And quite frankly, if Landon were to walk up to me with a bouquet of roses, I don't know that I'd appreciate it as much as his little fingers carefully picking out the perfect dandelion for his mamma. He walks over, with dirt under his fingernails from playing outside, grass stains on the knees of his jeans, and the perfectly plucked dandelion held gently between his little fingers. He watches the flower as he runs toward me, careful to protect it. Because it's important to him to give it to me.

And I treasure them.

Because it's not really about the flower.

To my boy, that is the prettiest thing he can find, and when he sees them, he thinks of me. My son, in his humble and noble effort to be kind, gave it to me with the purpose of making me happy.

Sometimes, our "best" doesn't look quite as beautiful as the next person's "best". Sometimes, we offer up our "dandelions" while it seems that the people around us are carrying bouquets of roses.

Sometimes, we see a dandelion and we think: Average. Lacking creativity. One among too many to be important. A nuisance. 
But someone else might see that dandelion and think: Lovely. Bright. Endearing. Brings happiness. Worthy of protecting. Something to treasure. Meaningful.

Who's to say who is right?

One day, he'll stop picking them for me. And I will miss it. But I will remember what that dandelion signifies to me.

That I might not always look, be or amount to what I want to. I might feel average, lacking, one among too many to be important, or a nuisance. 
But I can still choose to be lovely, bright, endearing, happy, be worthy of protecting, treasured. I can still choose to mean something. 

And for the rest of my life, whenever I see a dandelion, I'll think of them as less of a nuisance. I'll reminder that to someone, maybe even someone as kind, funny, sweet and gentle as my son, they're the prettiest flower in the world.

A Big Confession

I'll get back on track with Sunday Secret Weapons next week, but for this week, I have a different kind of secret to share with you.

Now, this isn't necessarily easy for me to admit. Not really because I'm ashamed, but more because it's very different than anything I've previously stood for. And I know that it will be a shock to a lot of you, especially those of you who know me well.

I fully understand going into this that I will have supporters and I will have people who feel betrayed and shocked. But the fact of the matter is, I'm an adult and I have the beautiful gift of making my own decisions. You have the beautiful gift of accepting my decisions and loving me anyway, or choosing to be hurt and shocked by my vast change of heart. I hope for the former.

This is a step in a direction that is very different than who I've always been known to be. This particular change in my life is something that I've, to put it frankly, always stood up against. To have a change of heart, I understand, will be troubling for some. Hopefully though, those closest to me will know that I, as a person, have not changed. But this is a choice I have made that I feel will be best for me.

This is not something that I choose to do all the time. Some of the time, I will revert back to my previous ways of functioning, and my actions will look and be the same as they always were. But for the majority of the time, I have chosen to make and accept a big change in my life.

This decision is simple, but changes a lot of things.

I have decided to start drinking Diet Coke. I will also choose to drink Cherry Coke Zero. My time with Dr. Pepper will now be short and minimal. Diet Dr. Pepper is an option that I am open to, but have yet to explore.

There. I said it.

Please, if you chose to judge me for my change of heart, do so quietly. Support is what I need right now, not criticism.

Thanks for listening.

-L

5 Things that Actually Matter

I usually try to keep things light on my blog. Lots of my posts are geared towards clothes or jewelry or the "latest" this and that (or food, but that's a different issue entirely).

I love fashion. I can talk shoes and bags with the best of them. I have a crush on braids and beach waves lately, and I love to talk about nail polish. I love fashion magazines, and men like Steve Madden, Michael Kors, Vince Camuto and Stuart Weitzman have my heart. And I'd consider selling my soul for Chanel earrings.

But honestly?

That crap doesn't mean a thing.

In light of a lot of recent tragedies around the country, a few broken hearts close to home, and the innocence lost in the eyes of not only my children, but so many others around the world because of senseless acts of hate, I think it's time to make another list.

This list will be different than my usual lists.

It's time to talk about what really matters.

1. People
This is my family:

My children are the greatest blessing in my life. I worry about them incessantly.
This is my handsome Landon-boy:

Landon is good and kind. Those are traits I admire in him so much. I want to keep him safe and also teach him to be strong. I want him to understand what strength there is in being gentle towards his mommy and sister, and also how to protect and watch over people smaller than him.
When we walk across the street, he holds my hand and tells me "Watch for cars mom. I'll protect you." When we are walking through snow, he tells me, "Walk in my footprints, mommy." He is full of "I love you"'s and "You're the best, mom!" When I ask him to do his chores, he responds with, "You got it, mom!"

This is my beautiful Ellie-girl:

She is strong and lovely, all at once. I hold her and she touches my earrings so softly and says, "Oooh, pretty mamma." She is smart! She's 18 months old, but she knows that as soon as pajamas go on, it's time to brush "teef". I want to teach her the difference between confidence and arrogance. I want to teach her that she is beautiful, and it's okay to know you're beautiful. I want her to know that pretending to be dumb for attention is never pretty, that grace is more than just the way you move, but it is a part of character. I want to teach her that being a woman is an honor. That it's okay to dress up, wear gorgeous clothes, have fun with her makeup and get bit by the shopping bug every once in a while--but that she ought to feel just as beautiful in her pajamas with a clean face. Because she's pretty because of who she is, not what she wears. That stuff...? That's just for fun.

Aside from just my children, children in general are growing up too quickly. A nine year old can buy a padded bra, for hell's sake. There are groups that teach, from the time they're big enough to hold a gun, how to kill. Let's slow it down, yes? They'll never get those times back where it's okay to be just a kid. I have big issues with adults who allow children to be around and deal with adult issues. Sure, sometimes it can't be avoided. But when it can, let's remember: children are not tools. Children are not pawns. Children are not adults. Children are children. It's very simple.

And I'm blessed, because my friends are many. Some of my very best friends in the world are my family. Some I rarely see. Some I work with every day. But my friends are important to me. I know that if I can show my kids how to be good friends, they'll make good choices when it comes to picking their friends...

2. Honesty
It's so hard to tell the truth sometimes. Trust me, I know. But one thing I have learned is that the truth always comes out. Own it. Accept it. Learn from it. Be better for it. You can run from the truth, yes. But the truth will always catch up with you, and outrun you. You will never win, and you will never beat it. Just.Tell.The.Truth.

The hard part of this comes in when you're not sure what is your place to tell, and what isn't. I understand what a personal moral compass is, and that sometimes, when you know things, telling others about them in the name of honesty is really just stirring the pot and gossiping with a mask of integrity on. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not play that game.


3. Kindness
I want to teach my children to be kind. I want to learn to walk that fine, almost invisible line between strength and unkindness. We live in a world where it's hard to be considered strong or independent without being considered rude. I will own that I am often at fault for this. I say what I think, and I have stuck my foot in my mouth more times than I care to count.
But I also have an issue, when people mistake kindness for a lack of strength. Just because someone doesn't always have the heart to talk back, doesn't mean that they don't have a brain. Just a thought.


4. Tolerance
Tolerance matters. My children are going to encounter people around them, all the time, who are different. They live differently. They talk differently. They look differently. They believe differently. Being able to tolerate them for that makes you a good person. But I believe that being able to love them for that makes you a great person.


5. Learning
I'm not talking about just in school, although I know that my education and my degree will benefit me and get me places. But I'm talking about culture, and art, and books, and music, and other kinds of people, and other kinds of beliefs, and other kids of everything. The only things I plan on taking with me when I die are my family and what's in my brain. I want my children to be able to recognize a painting, reference a novel, understand a song, etc.-not just because it's famous or beautiful or interesting, but because God gave someone the talent to do that, and appreciating what someone else is good at won't take away from the talents that we have. As a society, there seems to be a hesitance to appreciate what others can do, for fear of lessening our own value. And art, literature, music-those aren't the only things by which to measure levels of learning. I want my kids to be able to change a tire, take care of a garden (I may or may not watch from the sidelines. Kidding. Okay, not kidding.), know how to properly scrub a bathtub, load the dishwasher, and learn what manners are...

All of the "things" that I love are just little things that make me happy. I look down at bright pink fingernail polish, and I smile. I buy new shoes, and I have fun and feel confident the next day. You get my point. But when it comes down to basics, that stuff is just for fun.

So when I post, and talk, and rave about how much I love something that is, well, trivial. Remember this: I know the difference. And I pray that my children will, too.

-L