I Suck at Blogging

Apparently, I am a terrible blogger.  I suspected this might be the case in the beginning, but so many of my equally busy friends did it so well, I thought it would just come naturally to me.  Fun, witty posts, roughly 3 times a week that people would enjoy.  Nope.  Nada.  I'm averaging 3 per month.  So, I must be a truly horrific blogger.

However, I will soldier on.  I can do this.  I don't have to have something funny and focused to say every time I write.  And this is supposed to be an outlet for me, not for other people, hence the limited list of people allowed to see it.  And if you're the one who gave this link away to Drew or Kyle, you owe me lunch.

So...odds and ends around casa de Lowe.

• I'm almost done with my Christmas shopping.  Miracle of miracles.  I have my mom, my pets, and my grandparents left.  And for those, it's just a matter of going to get them.  I already know what I'm getting.  It's a serious Christmas miracle.  I hate Christmas shopping.
  
• Alli just told me Rob Pattinson was her boyfriend.  Two thoughts:  Maybe time to delete pictures of him out of my phone AND I wanted to fight with her about it.  I almost said "No, that's Mama's boyfriend."  Then I realized I was arguing with a 5 year old about a celebrity.  I need counseling.  Here's the pic she liked.  

• Alli's birthday party was this weekend at Fayetteville Athletic Club.  We had 7-8 kiddos there along with their siblings.  We had some great grown-up friends too - thanks for coming, Nicole, Kerri, and Lindsey!  Our good friend Deena who works at Ricks made the cake and it was wonderful!  At the bottom are cookies Deena made for Alli to take to her class on her birthday.  I can't believe my little princess is 5!!
  

 

At the rate I'm going, I'll write again next month.  Or year.

A Scrooge No More

Until earlier this week, I had always been a Scrooge about Christmas.  Oh sure, I loved it when I was little just like the rest of you.  But for some reason, I have always preferred Thanksgiving as an adult.  I just don't like redecorating my house, shopping with crowds, spending lots of money on other people, and stressing about what to get everyone.  But some time at the beginning of this week, all of that changed.  I committed to Christmas!  Ryan showed up at our house with two 3 foot light up reindeer, Alli's eyes lit up, and that was the end of it.  We added peppermints and plan to light the whole house tomorrow.

So this weekend, I spent a  LOT of time in the frou frou Little Rock decor stores my mother and I adore - such as Silks-A-Bloom, Phoenix Interiors, Austin's, Claybourne's, and Pazzazz.  And I was bombarded with the over-the-top Christmas decorations that  I love, envy, and assumed I could never afford.  Until...I noticed they were selling everything you needed to make all of it.  And it wasn't that expensive.  So I bought some large ornaments, about $5 each, some swag, and 10 yards of the floral decor mesh and thought I'd give it a try.  Below is the end result, hanging on my mom's door.

Pretty awesome, huh?  The wreath itself was half off at Hobby Lobby.  I wound the decor mesh through it, added the ornaments, made the bow, and voila!  They sell these wreaths for $250-300, and I made this one for just under $100.  Not half bad!  So of course I went back and spent another hundred, because one is never enough, and made this little beauty:

I don't think that one is quite done, but it's close.  It will hang on the window behind the reindeer.  And I still have enough leftover to do garland over our fireplace!  I am so excited to get back home and finish decorating!  More pics to come, I hope, if the fireplace turns out as well as the wreaths!

The Hizzle Dizzle

Drumroll, please!  The master bathroom is officially painted!  Oh, sure, I have a touchup or two to do on the ceiling.  And yes, I need to order new artwork.  Just three pieces though.  And I eternally question what one is to do with a tiny frosted window next to a toilet.  But maybe, just maybe, by the end of this week, I will declare it officially done.

Aren't you proud of me?  Just a few days after I griped about myself, I semi-finished a project!  And I made Ryan patch the wall where he put a hole in it hanging new cabinets in our laundry room, so as soon as he sands that, I can paint it too.  AND I painted over the stripes of sample paint in the living room and the guest bedroom.  I have a love-hate relationship with our living room color.  It's a spectacular teal with red and gold accents.

So I go back and forth with repainting this room a more toned down version of the teal about every other month or so, but then realize that I love it as is as soon as I try to pick out a new color.  Also, I regularly toy with changing up our master bedroom.  I find it to be a bit masculine and dark for me.

So I think that will be the next project - a complete overhaul.  I don't even know what I am considering in that room.  Sometimes, I think baby blue and deep purple, and others I think a more green and blue scheme.  I think I'll have to wait for that right inspiration to hit me.  Also, we're planning to darken the guest bedroom as soon as I find the right green.  The last green I tested turned a putrid puke color in the sunlight, so back to the drawing board.  Here it is right now (that's Ginger on the bed, it's her favorite spot):

I think that's the room that looks the most incomplete.  It needs curtains, another lamp, and some more wall art.  And could probably use a bigger nicer bed, but who wants to spend money on a guest bed?  So we'll probably darken the whole thing, once I find the right green, get some curtains, and call it a day.

So those are my current musings on my house.  By the time I get it just about perfect, I think it will probably be time to move again.  Oh well...that's the fun, right?

Unfinished Projects

I am officially one of those people.  Yes, I have unfinished projects.  It horrifies me to even type it, but it's true.  I used to scoff at people whose remodeling, repair, and small project list went unchecked for months on end.  I was so smug.  How could they stand half-painted rooms, missing moldings, and art propped up against the wall for more than ten minutes?  Once I started on a project, I obsessed until the project was done.  I threw myself in wholeheartedly, despite the toll it took on my sleep, job performance, family life, or, most importantly, TV watching. 

But here I sit, in a living room that has a few teal stripes on it (considering a new LR color for some reason), a few unpainted moldings (untouched since Ryan finished the hardwood floors a few months ago).  My master bedroom only has one coat of paint on the ceiling.  It's been like that since Ryan got home from Iraq.  Ryan got home from Iraq 11 months ago.  And last week, I got a wild hair and repainted the master bathroom.  But I've only done one coat.  It covered relatively well, thanks to the new Behr Ultra paint with primer in it.  So I'm trying to convince myself that a slight bit of hot pink shining through an othwewise sage green wall will be all the rage any day now.

Why can I not finished projects these days?  I am going to blame part of this on my husband.  Mostly, because I don't want to accept the responsibility and because he doesn't read my blog much.  But he is not a project person.  He would much rather watch DVR'd Jeopardy and play Farmville than spend an hour painting a bathroom.  I don't blame him much, but I do wish he would step up and take charge of at least some of the unfinished projects.  You can't tell me he's sad to see the pink bathroom go.  He should at least stick the paint brush in my hand when I say "I think I am going to go reread Twilight again."  I had no trouble finishing projects when he wasn't here, and it wasn't for lack of things to do, was it?

Okay, okay.  Clearly this is not all his fault.  I generally take on more than I can handle and then take a few weeks off.  Or months.  I think the root cause of this situation is football season.  By Thanksgiving, I will have seen the Hogs play in 9 games this year.  That is a lot.  So here's hoping, after the holidays I get my rear in gear.  Or that pink/green streaked bathrooms get popular.

I can check one thing off my unfinished project list, for another few weeks anyway:  Blog updated.

The Halloween Costume Conundrum

So in case you haven't figured this out yet, I'm a girly girl.  I live by the three Ps (pink, ponies, princesses), love make-up and shoes, and would still play dress up if it weren't weird.  Of course someone like me would give birth to a low-maintenance daughter.  My little princess likes to look pretty, but she doesn't like to work at it. And she holds fast to the belief that Halloween costumes are supposed to be scary.

So for the past 2 months I've been all dreamy about the prospect of dressing her up as the Little Mermaid, my very favorite princess in the whole world.  With her red hair and general gorgeousness, my little four year old would make an absolutely perfect Ariel.  Time to go Halloween costume shopping.  And what does she tell me she wants to be?  A ghost.  No lie.  I begged.  I pleaded.  I threatened.  Nothing would change her mind.  I decide to be an adult and let her be a ghost.  We go to Wal-Mart, buy the $8 white bed sheet, I cut holes in it, and voila:

A ghost.  And a pretty cute one.  She was extremely proud.  I had hopes that letting her wear it around the house would wear her down and convince her to wear something else in public, but no luck.  Until today.  We had 3 Halloween carnivals to attend this afternoon:  school, church, and neighboring church that has their carnival in the Gardens.  First Halloween carnival:  We do the ghost thing, people smile patronizingly, I blush and say awkward things like "it's what she wanted!" and gaze longingly at all of the little girls dressed up like princesses.

And then Heaven smiles on me.  While decorating a goodie bag with stamps, she totally ruins the sheet - there are markers, stamps, and paint all over it.  She gets pretty upset and asks if we can go to the store and get her a new costume!  Joy!!  Of course we can.  Visions of princesses dance in my head.  The whole way there she thinks she is going to be a skeleton.  I cringe.  I beg.  I threaten.  I go in prepared to be an adult again.  Until we get there and she spies...

A Hannah Montana costume!  Oh happy day!!  Of COURSE we buy the costume, the wig, and the microphone and I do a little cartwheel in the parking lot.  Hannah Montana is definitely a Disney princess.  My baby looks adorable, and I didn't even twist her arm.  And no matter how different we can be, here's one thing we can both agree on:  ponies are the best!

 

Skinny jeans...ugh

So I made a huge purchase today.  Yes, it's true.  I bought a pair of skinny jeans.  Shoot me.  Yesterday I hit a boot sale and I bought 4 pairs.  I woke up this morning and realized that I could not wear boot cut jeans with these adorable boots.  So what did I do after work today?  I went to buy skinny jeans.  This is another trend I have been resisting for some time now.  As you can probably tell already, I am not into trends.  I just now got one of those weird long cardigans that doesn't button.  What's up with that?  But I think I like it.  Anyway, skinny jeans.

Buying skinny jeans should be some sort of torture method.  Seriously.  First of all, you have to ask for them.  They don't just set them out.  I think that's specifically so you have to ask the tiny Mason's salesgirl, "Excuse me ma'am, do you have any skinny jeans?"  She looks you up and down, mentally muttering something about "fatty jeans" but asks you for your size.  You give a generous answer - maybe a size lower than you think you are.  She frowns and says something about them running small.  Ugh, ok.  Bring me a damn 29.  You think the worst part is over once you have the jeans alone in the dressing room.  Oh no, the fun is only beginning.

Once you do the jeans dance (you know, the dance you do every time you have to put your jeans on), you realize you have fat calves.  Fat calves?  When did your calves get fat?  Can they even get fat?  How do you target tone your calves?  Did the birthday cake you ate this weekend go straight to your calves?  Impossible, you think.  But there you are, face to face with the reality that you are one of those people who has fat calves.  You don't even know yourself anymore.  The thighs you saw coming, but the calves?  Timidly you ask the salesgirl about this condition.  She gives you a knowing smile and says, "Mine are like that too."  Okay, so maybe your calves are fine.  Maybe it's the style.  Like a corset, but for your lower legs.  You can deal with that.  Until you notice how short skinny jeans make you look.  No, that whole "make you look longer and leaner" thing is a a myth.  You look 4'11. 

But hey, you tell yourself, it's what all of the twenty-somethings are wearing.  And dammit, you are twenty-something too.  And even being someone's mom, wife, and looking distinctly like a pear with toothpicks coming out of the end isn't going to stop you from being en vogue.  So you take a deep breath and head to the checkout with them, vowing to yourself you will never be seen in these Godforsaken skinny jeans without boots covering your big fat calves.

The First Post

Okay, so I gave in. All of my friends and co-workers have been blogging for months now. And I have resisted. I was hoping the blog trend would blow over without me getting too involved in it - you know, like cowboy boots, Twitter, and Desperate Housewives. But it appears blogging is here to stay. So grudingly, I have added one more thing to my to do list. As if I don't have enough to do. Now I feel the need to write about it.

I guess the best way to start is to write a bit about myself and my family. I live in gorgeous Fayetteville, Arkansas with my husband and our daughter. I have an Industrial Engineering degree from the University of Arkansas, and I work in transportation logisitics. My husband Ryan is a two time war veteran who is still working on his degree in human resources - I am so proud of him. We have 2 rescue cats, Lola and Ginger, and one boxer dog, Cash. Our house is like a zoo, and I am always trying to convince Ryan that we need one more animal (but no more kids, for now. So don't ask. I hate that question.) I love clothes, shoes, cooking (sometimes), strawberry margaritas, roller coasters, the Dallas Cowboys, music, fall, cleaning, the Razorbacks, and decorating (and redecorating) my house. I do not like beer, bows on babies, dirt/dust, blood, stress, or orange-flavored things. Other than orange rolls from the Crumpet, those are the best.

Okay, I have to go. I'm watching the Twilight movie for like the eighth time this weekend. Don't judge me. I forgot to mention I am currently madly in love with Edward Cullen.