tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759640148996919892024-02-19T08:42:51.449-06:00Folded But Not Put AwaySweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-13210537246347439322012-08-27T19:00:00.001-05:002012-08-27T19:00:30.646-05:00Dress CodeIts our week to clean our church building and tonight I told the girls to get shoes on so we could head to the church to clean. Rob told the girls to get in the car and Charlotte said "I need my dress." Rob asked why she needed her dress and she replied "to go to the turch (church)." Too cute! We explained to her that this time she didn't need to wear a dress to church but we love the way that little girl thinks. SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-11522948845271025892011-10-12T21:48:00.000-05:002011-10-12T21:48:00.306-05:00Asparagus HuntersAwhile back the women of my church had an activity centered around gardening. One woman mentioned that she had planted some asparagus and noted that it takes years to produce. It got me thinking about my days as an asparagus hunter. It was long ago when I was just a child. My grandpa was the master hunter and he reveled in teaching me the skills. There were thirteen of us grandkids and the hunts were not too often (I'm guessing this has something to do with the "years to produce" thing) and he would usually invite a couple of us to join him. Now this asparagus wasn't stuff he'd planted. It was wild, growing free in many secret places throughout our little town that were only known to the master hunter. He made us feel like secret sleuths, creeping through the brush to get to a point where he'd reach forward, and like magic, part some weeds and reveal the hidden treasure - a small patch of asparagus - that we were allowed to hold onto while he cut them off close to the ground. At the time I didn't even like asparagus- but the acquiring of it, now that was something I loved.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-29184807646555419942011-10-09T21:40:00.000-05:002011-10-09T21:40:45.163-05:00A little something I made<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0xcGwWM7jhpFcFQA7au5_U_lF4Q3GCGsRAlD3Jq2eXyfpkDfHSkUxPc_2gWdHya8GN8MOmqlXZWU8F1GhbyC77G1SFM33Ilo1WaQpobsyTvAae_gGD-eTQyZsKn6EQkB0YeiXj-ZLrg/s1600/IMG_0161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0xcGwWM7jhpFcFQA7au5_U_lF4Q3GCGsRAlD3Jq2eXyfpkDfHSkUxPc_2gWdHya8GN8MOmqlXZWU8F1GhbyC77G1SFM33Ilo1WaQpobsyTvAae_gGD-eTQyZsKn6EQkB0YeiXj-ZLrg/s400/IMG_0161.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMZZaLFbJEqTXzsDc8QeLIPjaoqKgEiNG_4KeOSmW_fAwIPM2vc59E6SIyYpFSdPkmyBdyvCdF4uAdL3EPUzbpb2Yzu8DvnuNQBcMYpLW_dHJNluqAslb8MN9AiN2puMXyt6kfcfDmj0/s1600/IMG_0162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMZZaLFbJEqTXzsDc8QeLIPjaoqKgEiNG_4KeOSmW_fAwIPM2vc59E6SIyYpFSdPkmyBdyvCdF4uAdL3EPUzbpb2Yzu8DvnuNQBcMYpLW_dHJNluqAslb8MN9AiN2puMXyt6kfcfDmj0/s320/IMG_0162.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
Whipped up this Anthropologie knock-off apron for a friend of mine this week. I love it. Now I wanna make myself one. I used<a href="http://sewingin-nomansland.blogspot.com/2010/12/eight-day-of-christmas-8-maids-milking.html"> this </a>pattern for it.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-68370032406695808242011-06-07T21:41:00.000-05:002011-10-09T21:42:16.498-05:00White Rock Centennial Half Marathon<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
In December I told a friend of mine that I needed to get motivated to start working out again. I mentioned something about signing up for a race. She emailed me the next day with a race she wanted me to run with her. I did the 5k. I loved it and in the midst of getting ready for it I started running with a couple of girls that go to our church, and after the 5k, one of the girls suggested we sign up for a half marathon. We did. So we had to keep running. And then a couple more joined us and it turned into 7 cool women who drug their butts out of bed at 6 am every morning to run together. It has been an absolute blast and I have gone from someone who hated running to someone who is completely loving it. I nursed an injury for the last few weeks of training for the half but with the help of some physical therapy, some Aleve, and the race-day adrenalin, I made it through the 13.1 miles without stopping. And you know what? My husband did it too which just made it that much more fun. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQwYZXUC3oyd5fVFpXmqy6TyUsb1T3fa9elPFBKXihJZI0LCF-sIjfBPr4iw_Qo9OBJ59543qXOgk2M6qb0wzXaH_mYLkmjerxdhxWEDb7JIh718O_XaYuJ3Wz1iSN8JIpOFk4r53HQw/s1600/IMG_9196.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQwYZXUC3oyd5fVFpXmqy6TyUsb1T3fa9elPFBKXihJZI0LCF-sIjfBPr4iw_Qo9OBJ59543qXOgk2M6qb0wzXaH_mYLkmjerxdhxWEDb7JIh718O_XaYuJ3Wz1iSN8JIpOFk4r53HQw/s320/IMG_9196.JPG" /></a><br />
The shirts I made for the seven of us who trained together.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwuBe830eKrYJbFzpc1Jza3tGkg-6Wuyzl7-lwyvJGDv2VNPVOaV2bc8VdzX5z7GnnYJZ9eFqCPb9g8rGmfT7cSbdIdEX2G4rEfFM0cVRXNlRfQ7Zm-PE7_h3PPS0Z-AaVQDgcTe1qoM/s1600/IMG_9198.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwuBe830eKrYJbFzpc1Jza3tGkg-6Wuyzl7-lwyvJGDv2VNPVOaV2bc8VdzX5z7GnnYJZ9eFqCPb9g8rGmfT7cSbdIdEX2G4rEfFM0cVRXNlRfQ7Zm-PE7_h3PPS0Z-AaVQDgcTe1qoM/s320/IMG_9198.JPG" /></a><br />
Yes, that's a minivan</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbNZayovkxCqrAvop1bYXAmLq48GlVlI8mIb3d8_Mv4lDNVQLA7lokHeD5gwymMDVWW6OcmR_lOo7QqW5GciNMHEhyphenhyphen9EfW0iKS2UAyz9kLVrPeWLcLWCdAEb_YwRJ13vVcRkWJyYMTM3w/s1600/IMG_9199.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbNZayovkxCqrAvop1bYXAmLq48GlVlI8mIb3d8_Mv4lDNVQLA7lokHeD5gwymMDVWW6OcmR_lOo7QqW5GciNMHEhyphenhyphen9EfW0iKS2UAyz9kLVrPeWLcLWCdAEb_YwRJ13vVcRkWJyYMTM3w/s320/IMG_9199.JPG" /></a><br />
The night before the race. Our carb-loaded dinner.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSrnw6VVVck025vwEmvVMxwfJXxlhpO1M7_ijOUI-cygdFM4WGxca5mCzI8hWWo2GlVJLpo3AOvBxnDKy8VuLtAs7znIfNJ_xVyM_Yq6u1Txxkqiw3ZmaG6ftGsA2no2IbfZaoIyN6Moc/s1600/group+girls.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSrnw6VVVck025vwEmvVMxwfJXxlhpO1M7_ijOUI-cygdFM4WGxca5mCzI8hWWo2GlVJLpo3AOvBxnDKy8VuLtAs7znIfNJ_xVyM_Yq6u1Txxkqiw3ZmaG6ftGsA2no2IbfZaoIyN6Moc/s320/group+girls.JPG" /></a><br />
Here we are before the race. Me, Cheri, Sarah, Ginger, Kim & Casi.<br />
(One of the girls got injured and was unable to run)</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxBl1onc_Mirh6BLyi7IPtndHvZ-6WqPRFc8ZcLlJelwZ_GZ9KCYOjtuewekIn2nxW3egRXRXTswfIjXBZtBBt_yOdlnZXHWZ7rYAEeV_ErgHHcnK5aGnbEv6T3oKkkWLDUIFB_XsiqY/s1600/rob+and+abby.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxBl1onc_Mirh6BLyi7IPtndHvZ-6WqPRFc8ZcLlJelwZ_GZ9KCYOjtuewekIn2nxW3egRXRXTswfIjXBZtBBt_yOdlnZXHWZ7rYAEeV_ErgHHcnK5aGnbEv6T3oKkkWLDUIFB_XsiqY/s320/rob+and+abby.JPG" /></a><br />
Me and the hubs</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7-3LSKUSiz06lbkOBM2eY0Lx5CMO6-wuLoSEdIGpgf3D4o51A0VMYJNTrq3WgKe0BMbRNEOAhfOFEiwhDSrGG0IwEXNxUrKNUK4AO0Tx3HN-vD9D8YipF2O23kg2bpepq2wMxreBzJ8/s1600/me+and+medal.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7-3LSKUSiz06lbkOBM2eY0Lx5CMO6-wuLoSEdIGpgf3D4o51A0VMYJNTrq3WgKe0BMbRNEOAhfOFEiwhDSrGG0IwEXNxUrKNUK4AO0Tx3HN-vD9D8YipF2O23kg2bpepq2wMxreBzJ8/s320/me+and+medal.JPG" /></a><br />
Me all sweaty and gross with my finishers medal.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTLiHEdOCIf7BY9eduQkA7QKBH4C0cl471JKmOfQCs_ng2ZQIRgUOpBBAoPymAv4Z2KPbz2yWZiBZRwJzrw3xfuIpz9bi_l5Qma6y4S5w5bQXU1mFd6P9m-zQmWpqBtEponWUFZWY7l8/s1600/group+girls+2.JPG"></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;">
<a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div>
SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-47072030134212604002011-04-04T21:17:00.000-05:002011-10-09T21:44:03.968-05:00Not an old dog but I can learn new tricksSo I'm taking this online sewing class right now. (I know, how do you take a sewing class online? Videos people, videos.) Its a 5 week course on learning the basics of sewing kids clothes. I've done quite a lot of sewing over the last 3 years but I was mostly making it up as I went along (sorry to those of you who received handmade gifts during that time, but its true) and I recently realized that I haven't really done a lot of sewing for my own family. So I decided it was high time I learned what the heck I was doing and took a class. I'm really loving it. The blog style class is a little hard to follow occasionally (like when the teacher loses her voice and has to post pictures instead of videos) and sometimes I want to <strike>throw those stupid half-made pants out the window </strike> take a break but overall it has really been good for me. I've developed a lot more confidence in my ability and learned some pretty cool tricks/techniques along the way, I've fallen in love with sewing again (I just turned a pile of nothin into the cutest little dress/skirt/pants/pinafore, etc.) and my little Pumpkin is honored and thrilled to sport her made-by-mama duds. In fact, she frequently tries to sneak them out of the hamper so she can wear them <strike>six</strike> 2 days in a row. She even tried to convince me today that it was, indeed, okay to wear a pinafore to your ballet class. (She's possibly obsessed with the pinafore because a certain hippo in a certain library book is made to wear one throughout the story.) I now find myself itching to finish up my chores at night (or skip them all together) so that I can head upstairs to create some little something. I've even been making things not required by the class. Last night it was a quick nightgown fashioned from one of daddy's old t-shirts and tonight it was a tiny utility apron constructed of some very flowery fabric in hopes of making tomorrows task of bathroom cleaning a little more exciting for the helper. We'll see how it goes. As for me, I'm already thinking ahead to the next thing. Perhaps my "sewing projects" bin may one day get emptied after all.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-50699675158500021542011-03-15T19:17:00.001-05:002011-03-17T08:19:12.863-05:00A birthday giftMy baby girl Charlotte turned one in January and for the last few weeks I've been feeling a little blue about the fact that she's not a baby anymore. A few months ago she started sleeping in her own bed (as opposed to in my bed spinning and kicking me all night) and sleeping through the night. I've just been a little lonesome for all those tiny baby things like rocking her to sleep, snuggling her all night and having the alone time with her while I feed her. Today is my birthday and this morning in the wee hours I heard her cry. She does that occasionally but usually goes right back to sleep. She didn't. She kept crying. I told hubs to go get her and just bring her to me. He handed her to me and immediately she snuggled up right next to me, nuzzled her sweet little face into my neck and collapsed into sleep. And there she stayed for the rest of the night, nestled in close to the mommy who was missing just that. There was no spinning, I did not get kicked. What I got was a sweet few hours of a birthday gift where I was reminded that though she may no longer be a baby, she will always be my baby. So happy birthday to me. What a perfect present. Thank you sweet C.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-34774123516874288072011-02-22T21:51:00.001-06:002012-07-30T23:32:25.097-05:00Can anyone keep up?With a toddler and a 3 year old? Or do you all have it under control and I'm the only one that always feels 10 steps behind? And how can I be steps behind when one of them is barely taking steps? This is a reminder to myself in a sense because I think its so easy to forget the craziness that is life with children under 5. Mind you, I know from watching that the craziness continues, it just shifts and changes forms as they grow. But please tell me how I am supposed to get this new house completely unpacked and organized when I have to clean up all the tupperware she pulled out of the cupboard for the third time today (I know they make child locks), and sweep up the food she threw on the floor to tell me she was finished eating each and every meal. I sometimes think about how quickly I could get things done if I didn't have these two rag-muffins at my feet all day. But what fun would that be? No, instead I find myself spending the majority of my time merely "maintaining" the chaos that is our day to day. And every now and again the stars all align and something incredible happens. Perhaps there happens to be number one's favorite show on at the exact same time that number two has collapsed into a nap and I am able to take one teeny tiny step beyond just holding it together. I might actually get those pictures printed to put into the empty frames or I may put those empty frames up on that empty wall that has long been waiting for them or I may find a place to store all those things that are for now being stored on the kitchen counter (which I might mention is probably still sticky from the PB&J we had for lunch). If I'm being really looked out for, that toddler will get herself into an extra deep sleep and that three year old will amuse herself with barbies long after her show has finished and I could possibly have a minute or two to clear a path through that room that will one day be the crafting room of my dreams but is currently a place to put stuff and stack stuff and store stuff that you forgot that you had because, well, its buried somewhere in a pile of stuff. Is today a day the stars will align? We'll see. But even if it doesn't, when all is said and done I'd gladly take a hundred days of "maintaining" over one day without my messy munchkins.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-56525488702899064402011-01-06T16:58:00.000-06:002011-01-06T16:58:08.102-06:00Not "so cool"The other day my 3 year old asked me why her dad asked me to marry him. In earshot of my husband I told her it was because he loved me and thought I was so cool. To hubs' amusement she replied "but you're not so cool mom." With dramatic, shocked expression on my face I asked for an explanation. I got "you're not so cool because you don't do fancy tricks like daddy." She then turned to hubs and said "show her your fancy tricks daddy." Hubs looked back and forth from her to me trying to decide exactly what she was referring to and not wanting to disappoint because, after all, his parental coolness was on the line. Said 3 year old then stood on one leg to provide us an example of what she deemed a "fancy trick." In the end, a 3 second hand stand was enough to reinsert myself into the "so cool" category.........for now. Phew!SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-19431009036774726382010-11-02T18:26:00.000-05:002010-11-02T18:26:23.305-05:00I votedI voted today. Isn't that cool? Isn't it great to live in a time when voting is not a privilege only awarded to those of a certain gender, race, land-owning group? I for one am grateful for the opportunity and for all those who fought to give me that right. Regardless of the outcome, I've had my say.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-23438433147318862522010-08-27T04:21:00.003-05:002010-08-27T05:02:28.871-05:00She's stressing out?Being a parent is hard. I know it's such an overused joke to talk about the lack of instruction manual but really, where is mine? Do you ever feel like you're totally screwing up your oldest child because they are your guinea pig for learning this parenting stuff? I do. I'm afraid I'm raising an uptight little one who won't be able to think for herself because we do all the thinking for her. And while I am constantly changing little things about my parenting as I see what I think will be better for her, the best changes usually come after I am praying for inspiration because I've done something horribly wrong. I just pray that she won't suffer for my well-intentioned, yet apparently poor choices. I was just woken up by a sweet little 3 year old voice saying "mommy? mommy?" I, of course assumed (you know what that does) that she was telling me she couldn't sleep or something equally unimportant so I just said "go get on the air mattress" (which we keep set up in our room because every night she ends up there for one of a myriad of reasons) This was followed by an almost apologetic voice stating "but I need a new pull-up because I peed mine all over me." I sat up and she was holding out a diaper to me (meant to fit her 7 month old sister) that was apparently all she could find in the basket in the dark. So as I got up and took her hand to lead her to get a new pull-up, I realize that she is not wearing the pajama top that she wore to bed. Almost as if she can read my thoughts, she sweetly starts telling me "and I peed all over my pajamas and I got a pajama top but I couldn't find the bottoms but I found the Christmas striped bottoms and it's okay to wear Christmas stuff right now." When I get upstairs to her room I realize that just as she has said, her pull-up has leaked through to her sheet but what surprises me is that the blankets on top of the sheet are not wet. Upon further explanation from her I see that she took off the wet blanket and then laid two blankets on top of the pee spot ("so the pee pee wouldn't get on my legs") and I also notice that Christmas striped pajama bottoms at the foot of the bed that she was talking about. So basically, my 3 year old (who is scared of the dark and hates being upstairs by herself but tolerates it to go to sleep) got up and on her own tried to clean up her wet bed, replace her own pull-up and put on new jammies and only came to me for help in desperation when she couldn't get the diaper she'd found on all by herself. And she says to me as I am removing the wet sheet "I peed my pull-up and then it was stressing me out." Why does this make me wanna cry? Maybe because I'm afraid that she was scared to come get me for help because I haven't always responded so well to being woken up in the past, or that I've possibly reacted too harsh over things that are an accident, but a pain to deal with nonetheless, and so she was attempting to deal with it herself (in complete darkness I might add). It's common to hear the little saying "you've got to pick your battles" when talking about parenting. I'm really feeling that now as I sit here and replay in my head the past few days, weeks and years with her. I think it's easy to expect our kids to be little adults and forget that they have yet to learn all the tools/lessons to act as such. I find myself saying to my 3 year old "why would you do that?" and on the days I'm thinking clearly, I hear my own self answer in my head and say "because I'm three mom and because three year olds are supposed to wonder how much toilet paper they need to wrap around their hand to make the roll not break off when they run through the house with it trailing behind them." Sometimes I wish I had a pause button so that when life got crazy and I found myself feeling overwhelmed, I could press pause and think about what a good response would be to a certain situation instead of just responding in the moment to the situation coupled with the stress I'm feeling. Oh how I love my children and I hope they know that despite my blunders. The good thing about feeling upset over something like this is that it does give me renewed energy to try harder to be a better, calmer, more patient and understanding parent and to figure out different ways to do things that may be a better fit for my kids. I just hope I'm not ruining my daughter while I learn.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-87587147284681893992010-06-06T00:47:00.003-05:002010-06-06T01:17:33.756-05:00Mommy said I'm not beautifulMy oldest daughter turns 3 next month. And as many girls her age she is obsessed with all things princess, and girly. She would prefer to be dressed in a princess dress 24 hours a day and always wants to pretend she is going to the ball. And of course by nature of the dress that is worn, marriage is a big thing on her mind these days as well. She's always talking about wanting to get married and about how I should share daddy so she can marry him, etc. Last week we went to a birthday party at build-a-bear for one of her friends and when it came time to choose an outfit for her bear, nobody was surprised when my little Pumpkin headed straight for the wedding dress with matching veil. So today in the car her dad was surprised when he said "Do you wanna get married?" and her answer was no. I was in a store at the time and not present for the conversation where she told her dad that she didn't want to get married because she wasn't beautiful. He asked her why she thought she wasn't beautiful and she told him that I said she wasn't beautiful because she had bumps on her face. Here is the actual conversation I had with her:<br /><br />Me: Sweetie help me remember when we get home to put some lotion on your face.<br />Her: Mommy why do I need lotion?<br />Me: Because your cheeks are dried out<br />Her: No they aren't<br />Me: Yeah they are. When your cheeks get dried out they get little bumps on them. Can you feel them? (I put her finger up to her cheek)<br />Her: Oh I feel them<br />Me: When the bumps come that means your cheeks need some lotion so help me remember and we'll put some on when we get home.<br />Her: Okay<br /><br />So imagine my surprise when my husband related to me her interpretation of that conversation. Apparently what she heard was "honey you aren't beautiful because you have bumps on your face." It broke my heart to think that I had made her feel not beautiful. I of course did my best to clarify to her that she would always be beautiful to me. When we returned home she immediately asked for some lotion for her face. As I was putting it on I talked to her about what really makes people beautiful: being kind, sharing their toys, helping others. We've talked about that before and we'll talk about it again because I really believe it.<br /><br />I have been thinking about this all day. I remember really loving when Dove came out with their definition of beauty campaign and all the advertising about true beauty and their emphasis that there is not one kind of beauty. That's what I want her to get. I'm just so surprised at how the most subtle things can send specific messages to our children and that at less than 3 years old I am already stressing over this with her. Oh how I wish I could raise her in a bubble of praise and support and love and not have to let her out to get influenced and beaten down by the world. What's a mother to do? Can I skip the teenage years?SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-58296641235522840052010-04-05T16:14:00.000-05:002010-04-05T16:14:00.375-05:00I ought to mentionIf the renewed urge to post on this blog is going to continue, I ought to mention one small thing.........something to do with being up several times a night, spending a lot of money on diapers, and glaring back at the women who think I'm using a recalled sling. Yeah, I've got another pumpkin in my house. Born in January, nicknamed PolkaDot and probably the reason behind me taking another vacation from posting if that happens.....not that that's going to happen. Anyway, just thought you should know. Oh yeah, one more thing. She's pretty cute.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-80706850933707242262010-04-04T16:00:00.006-05:002010-04-04T16:14:24.738-05:00Don't judge a book by its cover<div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDkgDqVf83hHXgPohYVhvyEtpxuKX6A2e7AQ7R0M_xBFbbKIX0N5EVz56qa_AtSCF11aCs3ifpF4VFBhEWVfscWPEGoBK6sZFO8yARFsMxOcMEL1M9B1Cyfu7mtxw0W4_KqLwB60FEyM/s1600/047.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456391435115988194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDkgDqVf83hHXgPohYVhvyEtpxuKX6A2e7AQ7R0M_xBFbbKIX0N5EVz56qa_AtSCF11aCs3ifpF4VFBhEWVfscWPEGoBK6sZFO8yARFsMxOcMEL1M9B1Cyfu7mtxw0W4_KqLwB60FEyM/s200/047.JPG" /></a> I picked this up the other day at the Salvation Army. (I love that place, half price clothing on Wednesdays makes my heart happy because this OCD mother doesn't care when her toddler completely ruins a $3.50 outfit. Okay, I still care but I care less which is good for Pumpkin. Wow - tangent.) You can imagine hubs face when he pulled it out of the car. He asked how much I paid for it. I'm not sure it would have mattered what I said, I could have said that they gave it to me and he still would have thought it was a waste of space taken up in our garage. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpk1RiQCRwwcdCav-lgnuI18WNkEMvOf8PoL4-amRnHFJ3N6yRY-3XBLDTR_t7pv1AJK1SS7Zd1wyi-_91M2F04poL3Qi3cQIgkzLA5XduVA7iNfgNaP_aK9cIatYbWL1rVjrBncQ2zQY/s1600/048.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456392310209154834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpk1RiQCRwwcdCav-lgnuI18WNkEMvOf8PoL4-amRnHFJ3N6yRY-3XBLDTR_t7pv1AJK1SS7Zd1wyi-_91M2F04poL3Qi3cQIgkzLA5XduVA7iNfgNaP_aK9cIatYbWL1rVjrBncQ2zQY/s200/048.JPG" /></a><br /><div>But I'm hopeful that I can make it look great. I've been searching <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.craigslist.org">Craigslist</a> for months and months trying to find something to put in my dining room to store all Pumpkins craft stuff and some other stuff of my own and this thing is perfect. Well it's perfect minus the bright red doors and psychedelic tape squares. Can't wait to post pictures of the finished product. Here's a hint..........2 colors or less.<br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-43050452457034552482010-03-27T16:56:00.003-05:002010-03-27T17:11:35.610-05:00Motherhood: Enter at your own risk!Although birthing two children and taking care of them on a daily basis is enough proof that I am, in fact a mother, sometimes you have those experiences that make you really stop and realize. I had two of them this week.<br /><br />I took my 2 1/2 year old to the ER and ended up spending a week sifting through her stool. Sifting may not be the right word here. More like smashing I guess. You know when you are trying to get those lumps out of the brownie batter so you smash it up against the side of the bowl? Yeah, this experience was similar except that the aroma wasn't quite as sweet and the lumps weren't made of flour. Oh yeah, and I was looking for a dime.....that she had swallowed. TMI? Yeah I thought so but sometimes the truth is poopy.<br /><br />The other thing that made me really remember that I am a mother? Well when I took her to the ER, I was driving this:<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.goodlife.com.ng/uploads/Adeola-Lawal_39_2008ToyotaSienna.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 203px;" src="http://www.goodlife.com.ng/uploads/Adeola-Lawal_39_2008ToyotaSienna.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Some of you may know it as the "Swaggerwagon." To me it's a minivan, the kind of car I swore as a teenager that I would never drive. But I'm eating my words. And you know what? They taste great! This thing is awesome. I'll totally trade any cool points I may have earned from sporting some cool SUV for all the convenience that comes with this baby. I realize that this confession makes me an even bigger dork than what I would have been just driving the above but deep down there's a dork in all of us and I've just decided to let mine shine. And it's shining a beautiful red, with seating for 8, and a DVD player, and this really cool cupholder/table thing that moves out of the way when you need to buckle your todderl, and and and...okay I'll stop now. But just for the record, I'm a mom.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-60096780128590241122009-06-25T19:36:00.003-05:002009-06-25T19:46:27.078-05:00Random Things That I LoveI was thinking the other day about some of the odd things that I get a kick out of and then I figured we probably all have them. So since I am thinking about it, I thought I'd share them with you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I love the smell of Scotch tape </span>(talking about it makes me want a sniff right now)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />I love exclamation points</span> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (My old boss was an English professor and told me that people did not know the real use of an exclamation point and that a person should use maybe a total of three in their entire lifetime. I say you don't know my life, it's very exciting!)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I love Crazy Core Skittles</span></span> (I eat handfuls of them daily. It keeps me skinny. :)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br />I love closed captioning/subtitles</span> (I make my husband watch every movie/television show with them on. I'm addicted. You'd be surprised at the things you miss without them.)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I love houses that smell good. </span>(Like mine - it smells like Black Raspberry Vanilla - yum!)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I love free babysitting</span> (Enough said - who doesn't?)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I love making handmade gifts for other people</span> (well, people that I like at least!)<br /><br />What are some random things that you love?SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-75931019728299615842009-05-31T21:41:00.003-05:002009-05-31T21:55:04.623-05:00My balanced dietSo a friend of mine recently told me that she was missing my posts on here. Which is funny because I didn't realize anyone actually read the posts on here. Besides me, of course. But since I've been enlightened I thought maybe I'd put a little Sunday goodness on here. This is for your Marie. Unless of course you're disappointed by the content and don't at all enjoy reading it and in that case, it's just a random post and the next awesome one is for you.<br /><br />I guess I haven't been blogging on here because there hasn't been a lot that's "blog-worthy" going on with me. Although, I think I may have a new Laundry Chronicles edition for this w<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQS7w54Jyr9fc_AeNiDpakDhlAXnn2DXQavvHBMh9iW1OvQd18iuPwVvR4mpF7_f7IZS59TtNj8IkvbXsRlmKiYWxg6vDUgUmsR-uaXPCDx3Bi5djqAuL_DW-dk-KibnBAJBGA5bM2bEY/s1600-h/photo(10).jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 203px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQS7w54Jyr9fc_AeNiDpakDhlAXnn2DXQavvHBMh9iW1OvQd18iuPwVvR4mpF7_f7IZS59TtNj8IkvbXsRlmKiYWxg6vDUgUmsR-uaXPCDx3Bi5djqAuL_DW-dk-KibnBAJBGA5bM2bEY/s200/photo(10).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342186311111561266" border="0" /></a>eek. Right now I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to get myself to stop eating these little bad boys. I had one when I made them, one as a pre-dinner snack, one as a post-dinner treat (a compensation if you will for eating all those vegetables in my salad), another one to reward myself for putting Pumpkin to bed successfully (sometimes I wonder why I don't weigh 300 lbs), and two more because................................hmmmmm when you run out of reasons maybe it's time to stop eating them. Although if you can come up with 4 reasons, maybe you're in trouble to begin with. And yet here I am, wondering how I could justify one more. Although it's just now occurring to me that I need to back away, back far away. Because there's only two left. <br /><br />If I don't stop soon, what will I eat for breakfast?SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-9824140129048997782009-04-28T18:45:00.001-05:002009-04-28T18:45:56.901-05:00I'm just sayin...................If you're going to buy a 10-pack of Baby Ruth's and you don't want to eat all of them, you probably shouldn't hide them in a secret place that only you know about. I'm just sayin..........SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-75978635608475895842009-04-03T14:12:00.002-05:002009-04-03T14:17:28.805-05:00The words of a childOut of the blue words from the 2 year old I am babysitting today:<br /><br />2yrold: My mom says we don't eat diarrhea<br />me: What?<br />2yrold: We don't eat diarrhea, we don't eat poop and we don't drink pee.<br />me: Okay. What do we eat?<br />2yrold: Food.<br />me: (being facetious) What about boogers? Do we eat those?<br />2yrold: No.......but just a taste.<br />me: Just a taste?<br />2yrold: Yeah cuz boogers is tasty.<br /><br />And now you know.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-63859552540596518192009-03-09T14:46:00.000-05:002009-03-09T14:47:15.746-05:00Proof is in the Pudding PicturesI have been a blog slacker, I admit it. The last time I posted was, well I can't even remember with looking it up. But, in my defense, I haven't been just sitting around twiddling my thumbs. I have been BUSY. And I have pictures to prove it. So hopefully I'll be forgiven for not being around for awhile. Here's the story. A friend of mine is having twin baby girls and my friend Tracey and I decided to make her some cute hooded towels and one thing turned to another and pretty soon it was way more than hooded towels (though we did those too). It was a good thing I didn't get into it by myself because I seriously couldn't have done all that sewing without Tracey around to chase after Ava quite a bit. So without further ado, here ya go:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQOI9XvkNqMZab-KfKpQu7dUyGcANgEYyRyDCjtrcl39HhI7X2mlI6xsksC3vLZ7r5So3kLJXHGb8Xb098HmlEu6YEDRukx222qS4s0tmiHQBgsM1NwkPR5XJRFIsS8rKCFMmcObeAJOo/s1600-h/IMG_4494.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQOI9XvkNqMZab-KfKpQu7dUyGcANgEYyRyDCjtrcl39HhI7X2mlI6xsksC3vLZ7r5So3kLJXHGb8Xb098HmlEu6YEDRukx222qS4s0tmiHQBgsM1NwkPR5XJRFIsS8rKCFMmcObeAJOo/s320/IMG_4494.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311272858972757426" border="0" /></a> The Booties...............why is everything cuter when it's tiny and in pairs?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKBhzLuSEWGvyjnhxVkOM4Asu8SbQWSjN-CbVquoSUOyXrj_OcUUBNNd2PfRTAQLQf7vI_AEHlfMKoazMEW3nNm2x3Exw16ICQ4riQEotrZwr27pfjA2_Z805odscRIk1UzM2ynze-MBY/s1600-h/IMG_4493.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKBhzLuSEWGvyjnhxVkOM4Asu8SbQWSjN-CbVquoSUOyXrj_OcUUBNNd2PfRTAQLQf7vI_AEHlfMKoazMEW3nNm2x3Exw16ICQ4riQEotrZwr27pfjA2_Z805odscRIk1UzM2ynze-MBY/s320/IMG_4493.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311272820166536418" border="0" /></a> I posted these before but had to include them again as part of the whole package. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNd1MUf52M8GgXSh6bhNBe0phz7pprdujSKMSp39_G_Ijtm53vNTLQ7cOpsau34BuGRURK26WRr9JLXvawLc-ki_SYE3GAtl9gVZkCdvKDrN39AILBrkmokdSTYrSnpGP0EGc1ZogqZzW/s1600-h/IMG_4491.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNd1MUf52M8GgXSh6bhNBe0phz7pprdujSKMSp39_G_Ijtm53vNTLQ7cOpsau34BuGRURK26WRr9JLXvawLc-ki_SYE3GAtl9gVZkCdvKDrN39AILBrkmokdSTYrSnpGP0EGc1ZogqZzW/s320/IMG_4491.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311272768705057282" border="0" /></a> The onesie dress<br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrz90G4JHq1WQaVFYf1_HKhmJNge920gAtPHx592D9ThROFKaPTMuwmSFiE3TAemj8J80RTEdTiR9m4bQnGCa2Ef8vVBMsnaxShepXC105aqPn3ObeHu7UnyH7d-sFHhyphenhyphenetuVeVJ4Xhp9O/s1600-h/IMG_4492.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrz90G4JHq1WQaVFYf1_HKhmJNge920gAtPHx592D9ThROFKaPTMuwmSFiE3TAemj8J80RTEdTiR9m4bQnGCa2Ef8vVBMsnaxShepXC105aqPn3ObeHu7UnyH7d-sFHhyphenhyphenetuVeVJ4Xhp9O/s320/IMG_4492.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311272778288541106" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd0cHxATWWyXQs4EtV_JMa_1eLc9JjqwuuHkZSH0mH2gV4vUm8BsMzBqP-W3pCYo8Ey-b1ea7hEbWSCaORYYDbGSxMS7k6SXGAlTiM7qNaolGC-X0qWK2w0ze3X_Zy_P4wUC0Yp2I7i9md/s1600-h/IMG_4486.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd0cHxATWWyXQs4EtV_JMa_1eLc9JjqwuuHkZSH0mH2gV4vUm8BsMzBqP-W3pCYo8Ey-b1ea7hEbWSCaORYYDbGSxMS7k6SXGAlTiM7qNaolGC-X0qWK2w0ze3X_Zy_P4wUC0Yp2I7i9md/s320/IMG_4486.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311272764400554114" border="0" /></a> And the culprit that started the whole project - the hooded towels! It's hard to tell from this picture but they are very shabby chic.......it even said so on the tag.<br /><br />And then you put it all together and it looks like this:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvxS3Ldh2sebfLz9pH19E6n8bn_zH_1fO_tIWp_1ffyYZHM_LEK1wlhy5G8DGj4iUAifbia4Svb3E8TJ1tH-U6L2f4n0hAm80tttdsOklgx8uL65mZWL6dtjLnRI25Odgl03fwtbJNq_4/s1600-h/IMG_4498.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvxS3Ldh2sebfLz9pH19E6n8bn_zH_1fO_tIWp_1ffyYZHM_LEK1wlhy5G8DGj4iUAifbia4Svb3E8TJ1tH-U6L2f4n0hAm80tttdsOklgx8uL65mZWL6dtjLnRI25Odgl03fwtbJNq_4/s320/IMG_4498.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311274783328050274" border="0" /></a> Or this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DavpQPa7wyUXbOCF4oARgBy87JexZedpe2GfuUvNLbu9EEKMkJZOhz38CGm74Pr4NqpPyLtrvz0BT8_SLg9IJI8HRr-uTr2KIcAVGXJG-qzVA0EKHga1WLk3Lz3lddjCXNaXfGaZ0I82/s1600-h/photo(14).jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DavpQPa7wyUXbOCF4oARgBy87JexZedpe2GfuUvNLbu9EEKMkJZOhz38CGm74Pr4NqpPyLtrvz0BT8_SLg9IJI8HRr-uTr2KIcAVGXJG-qzVA0EKHga1WLk3Lz3lddjCXNaXfGaZ0I82/s320/photo(14).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311274788577478066" border="0" /></a>So now that that's over I should be back with some regularity at least. And at the request of Marie, in the next week or so I will post the instructions for how I make the hooded towels, even though it's nothing fancy.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-74292780642152310752009-02-26T14:38:00.001-06:002009-02-26T14:40:02.817-06:00Girls gotta stick togetherSo, here's a blog you should visit: <span class="chat_info_status" id="chat_info_status_1079899611">annakarli.blogspot.com because she's having a contest with her husband to see whose blog gets more traffic. And you know, us girls gotta stick together (if you're a boy reading this, you can stick with us too). Go Karli!<br /></span>SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-89789030530999155142009-02-23T21:25:00.004-06:002009-02-23T21:39:08.202-06:00Work of Art Wednesday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmG0SMJvy1jZbLkJiJKpmW0-8y14cIUUW4Y3zF0-bk0RGwpqf5UI5rX9RJCTYcnppSN-F2bAcVgM_D9LEJKWd9YauGrqm4bNCpomu3OYPcDQXp6wo2cqWcbCEEnqD4bjhEArKFtbr4fCM/s1600-h/photo(10).jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmG0SMJvy1jZbLkJiJKpmW0-8y14cIUUW4Y3zF0-bk0RGwpqf5UI5rX9RJCTYcnppSN-F2bAcVgM_D9LEJKWd9YauGrqm4bNCpomu3OYPcDQXp6wo2cqWcbCEEnqD4bjhEArKFtbr4fCM/s320/photo(10).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306202830340535474" border="0" /></a>Apparently I need to go back to the grade in elementary school when you learn the days of the week because since I started this "work of art wednesday" I have yet to post my projects on a Wednesday. Hmmm.... sorta says something about the chaos that is my life sometimes. But I really have been a little tornado of craftivity lately which is the reason I haven't posted in a week. So since my project list is still pretty long, I thought I oughta drop in and let you see some of the things I've been working on. I did finally make some of those marble magnets (that the rest of you have been making for 10 years) as well as a couple of hooded towels. And since one of my good friends is soon having twins, these are my most recent project to be added to the "welcome babies" package. The twins are supposed to be identical, thus one bow on the left, one on the right just in case they need a little help telling them apart. Back to the craft room!SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-51720354695178004962009-02-14T08:00:00.002-06:002009-02-13T23:17:06.720-06:00Lucky Lady<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBK7NPN-wJiR-5wVbR38nIgWaPxdc3DIH53H6pE7KbfW4pMSsjZkX66ySTNU0pdbgdEHvWX8L-1j5KfwD_3OreAxjFuMAU1X2Ux5SECDvqjJH4QrMlqM3T3qdVzKMnRHGf-Df7cf9oraw/s1600-h/IMG_3944.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 88px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBK7NPN-wJiR-5wVbR38nIgWaPxdc3DIH53H6pE7KbfW4pMSsjZkX66ySTNU0pdbgdEHvWX8L-1j5KfwD_3OreAxjFuMAU1X2Ux5SECDvqjJH4QrMlqM3T3qdVzKMnRHGf-Df7cf9oraw/s320/IMG_3944.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302514361680878610" border="0" /></a>You know how you know that life is good? I'll tell ya. When you have fresh flowers on your kitchen table for a month because the "welcome home" flowers your hubs gave you went ahead and kept on living clear up until the "happy <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhno3kWlQpMap74KGk9dXXN7i8-hpFzv3gei8o_XqagbnlcJca2E5lQk9zyFIvpc5PhrWSbOKpx0tO5F3-f_FeD893B2cUnkaUfngayhhDXiUmHZlo9V2pXEN59x4JUVPwtTa-1s4tTOcM/s1600-h/IMG_4389_edited-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 99px; height: 120px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhno3kWlQpMap74KGk9dXXN7i8-hpFzv3gei8o_XqagbnlcJca2E5lQk9zyFIvpc5PhrWSbOKpx0tO5F3-f_FeD893B2cUnkaUfngayhhDXiUmHZlo9V2pXEN59x4JUVPwtTa-1s4tTOcM/s320/IMG_4389_edited-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302516129913969362" border="0" /></a>valentines day" flowers from your dad arrived on your doorstep. Bliss I tell ya!SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-61539460231381707182009-02-13T20:46:00.004-06:002009-02-13T20:57:17.271-06:00San Francisco Summary<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.norcalbuffs.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/san-francisco.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 155px;" src="http://www.norcalbuffs.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/san-francisco.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The rest of the trip went a little something like this: puking baby, Chinese New Year parade, puking mommy, food poisoning, Alcatraz, Golden Gate Bridge, Fisherman's wharf, H&M, puking baby, dinner with a fabulous friend, home. All in all a good trip, San Francisco is a beautiful place......even if you are seeing it mostly from the window of a hotel room. Hey, at least we were on the 29th floor!SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-33465628696160585862009-02-07T12:45:00.003-06:002009-02-07T12:55:53.740-06:00San Francisco: Day 1Flight delayed an hour<br />Uber cranky flight attendant<br />Arrive in San Francisco<br />Dinner with hubs and Pumpkin<br />Bathtime and Bedtime<br />Dreaming that Pumpkin is screaming "mommy"<br />Realize it's not a dream<br />Spend the next 3 hours changing multiple pairs of pajamas and cleaning up vomit.<br />Apologize continuously to the housekeeping staff for having to request a 3rd set of sheets<br />Secretly grateful that I'm not the one that has to do all the laundry from this<br />Back to bed at 4 am<br /><br />Looking forward to Day 2.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1375964014899691989.post-39529903810307395992009-02-04T18:36:00.005-06:002009-02-04T18:53:57.315-06:00Work of Art Wednesday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTE9EK2RCs1OJymyg5J6ONGxOxLY2mAb0YwxqBraWFi6f3nY5W6VApwsQMlPBJxKYOrcon3eYLHfSYMTm4M0oVlN_uA57agNviQB-8cFb28TpjhUWnrWVb26F8bobgOl1eMtVIPnZWdk/s1600-h/IMG_4066.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTE9EK2RCs1OJymyg5J6ONGxOxLY2mAb0YwxqBraWFi6f3nY5W6VApwsQMlPBJxKYOrcon3eYLHfSYMTm4M0oVlN_uA57agNviQB-8cFb28TpjhUWnrWVb26F8bobgOl1eMtVIPnZWdk/s320/IMG_4066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299107940972155042" border="0" /></a>I didn't mean for these Wednesday posts to be the only ones that I do but it seems that life has gotten the best of me the past week. Anyway, as previously mentioned, these "works of art" are not always going to be some elaborate craft project. This week, in fact, it is these delicious cinnamon rolls made using a white cake mix (and a few other ingredients). I've been making cinnamon rolls for quite a few years now but have not found a recipe that I love. The dough is either too dry, or not sweet enough or a slew of other things. These ones are pretty incredible. The dough is just a little sweet because of the cake mix and pretty moist as well. Nuke them in the microwave for a few seconds and they are pretty fantastic the next day also. You can find the recipe <a href="http://www.recipezaar.com/Cake-Mix-Cinnamon-Rolls-49091">here</a>. I didn't do the thing she calls for at the end where you dip the rolls in butter and then sugar. I just can't imagine loving unfrosted cinnamon rolls. So I topped mine with some cream cheese icing (powdered sugar, milk, cream cheese, vanilla) and they turned out so yum.<br /><br />So next time your sweet tooth is calling (which is daily for me), give these a try! Feel free to link in the comments to any of your own current "works of art" for the week. By the way, sorry the picture makes it look like a cake. I had frosted them before I thought to snap a photo.SweetAbbshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17180258976574414572noreply@blogger.com2