Thursday, September 17, 2015

The house with the yellow door

I've always wanted to paint my front door red. That was the first thing I promised myself I would do once I owned my own place. I've literally been pinning door painting tutorials for years in anticipation, and finally after being in the new house for six months all my dreams are coming true!

Except... picking a paint color is a difficult task... like pretty much impossible. So I went to the hardware store and picked up a million color sample papers and taped them all over my front door... and decided that red was the color for me.  Definitely red, because as much as I love turquoise it wasn't quite working, and yellow was a little too much. It took weeks to decide, and the papers remained taped and countless innocents were harassed for honest opinions... a winner was picked and that winner was red.

Then I went to the hardware store and saw the most amazing yellow... and bought a pint... and painted both front doors before I could even question my current life decision. You know what? It turned out amazing!

I mean, I wouldn't look super close at the lines if I were you, and it could probably use one more good coat (I feel like every paint job always needs one more coat than I have the patience to give). I would say it is not only good, it is good enough... and isn't that the point of DIY? I figure everyone's DIY is kind of crappy if you look close enough... it's just that some people are photographing it better and have superior lighting.

I added a vinyl sticker to the front door, also a dream fulfilled. So pinterest it hurts. My favorite thing about the new front is getting to tell people things like "We're the third house on the right, the one with the yellow door". I basically have the Mt Rushmore of front doors on our street YOU CAN NOT MISS IT.

My other favorite thing about the front door... it's a nice backdrop for serious cuteness.

Friday, July 10, 2015

4th of July Weekend

To celebrate this fourth this year we spent the weekend at a friend’s lake house. I mean not actually in the house so much as in a camper with Nic’s parents but either way it. Was. Awesome. I seriously could get used to living in nature, and the kids agree, three days spent pretending lake floating qualified as bathing really agreed with us.

I took a ton of pictures, never of all three kids together because that would just be insanity apparently. Actually I completely forgot to photograph one of them whatsoever, so all the cool things Conner did jumping off of boats and docks… not documented. On the plus side of that my middle child can no longer complain that he is always forgotten, I have the pics to prove that is simply not true… at least for this weekend.

Peruse the picture of that awesome middle baby Beau back floating around the pond. Isn’t he awesome? All the little guys got a quick “how to survive in the deeper than you end” training session and the main tool in their belt is the back float. Big shout out to my littlest who waded out too deep within the first 15 minutes of being in the water, thus necessitating the swim lesson.

I’ve saved each kid’s life at least once, if she learns from the first experience she’ll be way ahead of her brothers who I’ve had to rescue multiple times.  Beau seems to be a little less adventurous this year, and it’s about effing time, he mostly took it upon himself to alert us when other children were danger. In a shrill voice that suddenly takes on an accent thicker than Scarlet O’Hara’s he would yell “Mah sistah! Mah sistah, someone halp her! Oh mah goodness she cain’t swem!” Never mind that he was literally a foot from her and had an extra four inches of height she lacked in the shallow water… I guess we’ll have to work on emergency response skills later.

Although I did not get any good pictures of Conner over the weekend he did take like 30 pictures of me, sitting on the deck… apparently suffering from a bad case of Resting Bitch Face. I mean I didn’t even know I suffered from the condition, but I have the photos to prove it now I guess. Did people know this about me? How have I never realized. I’m working on a more pleasant resting face as we speak… maybe something like this…

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

learning to run

Almost exactly a year ago I went shopping with Kohl's cash and picked up a pair of Nike's. My thought was that maybe this time I could start running and things would be different than the last 20 times I tried to start running. I thought maybe with the right shoes on my feet I could wrap my head around a Couch to 5k plan, maybe I could be a runner.

Yeah, I mean I kinda had an excuse to be out of shape, having three kids in four years isn't exactly gentle on the core. Realistically speaking the kids only did half the damaged, I averaged a 15 minute mile in 6th grade so I didn't even have an athletic past to fall back on. I remember having to run a mile every spring as part of our final grade and developing what felt like an allergy to the sport. Pretty much I hated it, it made my teeth hurt, my head ache, and lungs felt like they were on fire and just in general I wanted to die.

So, flash forward all those years and why in the world would I want to get into running? Honestly, because the cool kids were doing it. I watched my friends doing fun 5ks, and eventually going on to do crazier distances. I started thinking maybe that could be me smiling in a sweaty group at the end of a finish line. I feel like half my frantic get healthy spurts stem from some kind of implied peer pressure generated by Facebook and Instagram, but whatever.

Despite the obvious issues I have with stalking the online profiles of friends and acquaintances at least it kind of led to a healthy hobby in the end. I downloaded Couch to 5k on my phone, paid a race entry fee, and got myself a running buddy. You know what, it sucked almost every bit as much as I had expected it to. There were days I actually hated it, there are still days I hate it and question any decision I ever made to start. Sometimes I rationalize quitting, and I do quit for a whole day... or two. For some reason though I come back.

With all my complicated emotions in tow I learned a lot about myself training for that first race. I remember when I ran my first full mile on the treadmill at my work's gym, I threw my arms in the air and cheered like a maniac... and maybe cried a little with pride. That was probably the point at which I became hooked, and definitely the point at which I realized I was a lot stronger than I had ever given myself credit. Over the next several miles of training I learned to be kind, to forgive myself when I sucked and quit halfway through a run because sometimes that whole one foot in front of the other thing just ain't gonna happen. I would pick up the next day and this time do better. Some runs were awesome, I felt like a million bucks after, and some were frustrating and made me hate everything.

I trained and showed up on race day and finished that run with a jubilant display of triumph so intense I peed myself. No really, three kids later my bladder is not what it used to be and I totally did pee myself from dancing around and yelling at the finish. With soggy pants I claimed my participant medal and it was pretty much the best thing ever. I am 100% a fan of participation trophies, especially for myself.

That race was the one that changed everything, and it wasn't just because of the bling. Now I'm looking at a 1/2 marathon training schedule (one that I made myself no less...woopwoop) and prepping for 13.1 miles in September. That may end up being the furthest I go, or maybe not, who knows. I hope if there's anyone out there who's questioning their ability to get running, or walking, or moving whatsoever you stop wondering and just go. Doesn't matter what speed, you're awesome and you can do it, I promise.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

extreme spinning is not for me

This week was a crazy ride. After finishing the first season of Grace and Frankie on Netflix I decided that we have definitely been doing home decor wrong, also I can't wait to be 70. If you haven't seen the show I recommend you check it out, the two characters live in a beach house that obviously cost millions of dollars to decorate. After some googling I found it is a style called "Coastal" I have informed my husband I am changing our decorating theme. I mean our current theme is kind of "mid century mod meets kindergarten classroom and last months birthday decorations" with a whole lot of empty space we hope to someday have enough furniture to fill. I think if I add some deep blues, starfish, and texture we will definitely be pulling. it. off.

Anyway, thinking about decor distracted my mind from all the other things I've been working so hard on lately. I think my brain basically has two directions of focus on any subject 1. completely obsessed and 2. don't give a crap. So if I'm obsessed with decor, that means six weeks into half marathon training I no longer gave a crap about running. Damn it. I've been trying to talk myself back into it... I'm almost there... I think if I just paint a couple walls I can relax and refocus my brain back on running.

I also tried a new spin class this week, because after the Bikram hot yoga fiasco I have for some reason been drawn to extreme fitness classes. I took Spinbata on Monday... and I can still feel it in muscles I didn't know I had.

Let me give you a brief overview. Spinbata is a spin class that seems to focus mostly on the upper body, and that should be your first clue that it is insane. Your legs do not stop moving on that bike for a full hour, unless, like me, your foot accidentally comes flying free of the clip on the pedal and you almost die (but also get a 15 second break while you sort that situation out). While your legs are flying in circles, your arms are doing push ups in all sorts of forms, lots and lots of them. You bend from the front, and from the side, you tap your butt back on the seat, you yell WOOO! when prompted. You watch sweat pool under your bike and wonder if you heard wrong and this class is longer than an hour because surely, surely you have been here for more than 60 minutes!!!!!! 

The last 10 minutes of the class you pick up hand weights and do a series of shoulder exercises that were basically impossible due to the noodle arms I now had attached to my body. It took all my strength not to accidentally punch my coworker next to me off her bike, I was basically pushing weights around with little to no control over where my arms went. I think for the sake of everyone I will stick to my regular spin classes from now on.

I'll finish up the post with some photos, one of which was taken with a selfie stick because that is just how I role and there is no shame in my selfie stick game.

on occasion this rogue mini shopping cart gang roams the local Kroger wreaking havoc on the ankles of innocent shoppers

Oh yeah, it was totally our anniversary on Monday, is it just me or are we getting better looking with age


Tuesday, May 12, 2015

the only pets we have are flushable

You may remember an earlier post about the possibility of a family pet, we really wanted a dog but would settle for a cheetah. Unfortunately for everyone involved Conner seems to be extremely allergic to dogs, and cats, and pretty much anything with fur that licks itself. Which leaves us with only a couple options, and cute and cuddly isn’t one of them.

This is where I  introduce you to our family pets, a little late actually as this is a posthumous introduction for all of them actually. Beau my danger baby received three gold fish for Christmas and a fishy habitat to go with them. He quickly named them Nemo, Goldie, and Orangey. His brother just as quickly renamed the last two Stinky and Doodoo. His mother accidentally killed all of them within the first 24 hours, so we are currently working with body doubles. That's right, literally the day after Christmas and we were already sneaking in replacements. With an air of I-told-you-so that was probably inherited from me Conner told us " you guys thought those fish were dead, but I knew all along they were just sleeping."

Now lets fast forward a couple weeks, Stinky, Doodoo, and Nemo have now funked up the tank to a shade of green so thick I could have bottled it and started hawking my own brand of green smoothies. So we introduce a new friend to the tank, a Plako named Wowo. Who is not so great at keeping the tank clean but super good at playing dead. So good in fact he gets flushed, but springs back to life in the middle of our three second long funeral. He woke up just in time to be sucked out the toilet hole, sent on his way to the "ocean" with the horrified screams of three traumatized children following behind.

In remembrance of Wowo we adopt a new Plako, Wowo Jr. I have now learned they are not the most active fish, and we have not accidentally flushed our new friend. However things aren't going to well for Stinky and Doodoo, who have actually at this point been renamed again and Conner insists we all refer to them as Twindo and Twindo Jr. Both of whom were found stuck to the bottom of the filter this week, not sleeping but actually super dead. I gave the kids the option of a small burial plot in the back yard or quick burial at sea via the porcelain portal to fish heaven. They chose the water option, and like any grieving fish owner would do, Conner performed a quick courtesy flush to make sure his beloved friends had some clean water to make their exit in. The boys sobbed quietly over the toilet together, Conner assured Beau that every time they went to the beach they would remember Twindo and Twindo Jr.

So, it seems we may be in for an interesting summer if every trip to the beach comes with a memorial for our flushed friends. We have two fish left in the tank, however that plays out. Could be by next week the marbles and fake ferns are the only pets left. All I know is, it's definitely a good thing Nic never bought us that Cheetah we begged for.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

When Shit Hits the Fan: A Tale of Friendship

Well, if you want to know what is new in our house these last couple of weeks I would have to say it is Tillie's potty training routine. Now that she has turned two I can finally see the light at the end of the diaper tunnel, my last baby is almost potty trained! I bought her some Sophia the First undies from Target and ever since then it has been game on, I'm happy to report that she manages not to pee on "Phia" like 75% of the time. The other 25% of her underwear clad days she spends peeing in random locations... and occasionally creating horrifying poop predicaments (tales I will regale you with in a few minutes). For now let me drop a little urine wisdom bomb on y'all,

Sometimes we spend so much time searching for someone else's pee, when all you really had to do from the beginning was slow down and look at your feet... you've been standing in it all along.

I'll just let you absorb that for a minute before I go on.....

Now I will tell you a tale of friendship. I'll start it off with a quick warning, never brag about your child's amazing potty training abilities, I promise you the second you say "My little protege has basically potty trained herself" you have put a curse on your head. You will not know the time or date but poop is coming for you, and that poop will not make it into the toilet, free range feces are headed your way.

This literally just happened to me the other day when we were entertaining guests. Adam and Sarah, two parents we met through soccer a few seasons ago, came over to hang out. Thankfully they're awesome and have two kids of their own so they listened to my potty training braggery and still helped me clean up more than a few messes. Then things took a turn for the awful.

Tillie took herself to the bathroom, alone, and was discovered staring into a toilet full of poop. Without even blinking Sarah helped her wipe up her butt and congratulated her on making it to the potty, I walked in a minute later, almost dying from the horrifying smell. Sarah explained that Tillie must have pooped on her own, and helped Tillie pull up her undies... when suddenly we both noticed poop smeared all over Tillie's legs and falling out of the underoos. Purely out of shock and dismay Sarah and I simultaneously start screaming


Tillie had not made it to the toilet, her pants were actually filled to the brim with steaming fresh poo nuggets, and to top it off she was holding a giant HANDFUL of poop as well.  A handful of poop that in a panicked response to our screaming she began shaking all over the place until the brown glob finally flew out of her hand and landed right next to Sarah's foot. Scrambling like wild animals, and cursing like sailors, together we hoisted Tillie into the bathtub to begin the decontamination process... poo was everywhere, EVERYWHERE I tell you. Poo flinging toddlers are seriously like the worst.

So there you have it, a cautionary tale yet a story of friendship as well. I don't think there's any going back from this, once you've done time in the trenches together, scooping poop, tossing toddlers, and sniffing each other to make sure you're both "clean", long term friendship is kind of inevitable.
Tillie: "Shhhh Beau, Beau. I wuv you, no cry.. ok"

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Tillie Boo Boo

So... while we were out in Colorado a few weeks ago Tillie had her second birthday and we were very, very lucky to get to celebrate with our in town family. One of the amazing presents Tillie received was this adorable flamingo dress from my wonderful Aunt Kathi. Now this dress is pretty much to die for, over the top, tutu fabulous... I mean this dress is DA BOMB!!! I've posted a picture below for your verification,

So now that you've seen the awesomeness that is this flamingo dress, I have a confession to make. After seeing Tillie in this dress I felt like I couldn't just keep her undeniable cuteness all to myself anymore... and I signed her up for a fashion show next month. It's a local vendor that is hosting the show to display her clothes and accessories all I have to provide are flip flops... which is the only shoe Tillie doesn't have so I'm gonna get to go shooooping!!!

Alright, seriously though, I'm trying to contain my excitement... and also teach Tillie some tricks... you know there ain't nothin' cuter than small well trained children (slight sarcasm here). Anyway, we've been working all weekend on a little routine that goes like this,

walk down the runway... twirl... throw her arms out and yell "Ta-Da!!"... then blow a kiss.

Totally beyond adorable, and she totally pulls it off about 50% of the time. So based on those statistics I see this fashion show going one of two ways:

1. She does her routine and the crowd goes crazy, chanting "Tillie! Tillie! Tillie!!!" Nickelodeon and Disney get into a heated bidding war over the rights to a show about her cuteness.... we turn them down of course (we're not those kind of people who are going to sell their kid's childhood to the highest bidder ppsssh) Tillie grows up "small town famous" and we all live happily ever after

2. Tillie walks to the end of the runway, twirls violently several times before stumbling to a stop and yelling "TA DAAAAAA!!!!" unfortunately all those twirls give her the balance of a soccer mom three margaritas in (that's me) and she falls sideways off the stage. Luckily she is nothing if not durable and  she hops back up to gruffly yell "KISSIESSSS!!! KISSIESSSS!!" while smacking herself in the mouth and blowing spit everywhere.

I have to say either way I'll be super proud... and I'll write about it here.