Utter and Complete Randomness....try to keep up.

My life is a jumbled mess most days. These last few weeks have been no exception. As a tribute to my mixed up world, here is a slew of unrelated thoughts:

First, a bit of humor brought to you by my 2-year-old. This weekend I braved it alone with the girls while dad took a much deserved vacay to Wichita to hang with his friends and do man things. At the end of night one, I was putting Addison in her jammies so that we could all pile into my bed and watch the movies we had just picked up from the Red Box (1st time doing so....it is an amazing contraption...but I digress). I get her pants on and as she is standing there shirtless, she points to one of her miniature mosquito bites and says "I have one boobie" then points to the other and declares "And I have anudder boobie." She then looks up at my quizzically and asks, "You have boobies momma?" to which I answer in the affirmative. My darling daughter then stares at me for a moment before retorting, "No momma, you have coconuts." Ummm, excuse me? I sat there with my mouth agape momentarily before deciding I could not argue her logic.....but perhaps a grapefruit might be a better descriptor....

Second bit on my mind. Last night I dreamt of saving a goose. Yep, you heard me correctly. I could have dreamt of marrying Brad Pitt (had to edit this. as proof of my current state of craziness, I originally wrote Tom Cruise. I HATE Tom Cruise) or losing 50 lbs and becoming a supermodel or winning the super-duper jackpot. But no, I spent a good portion of the night dreaming about my plan to save a goose that had laid an egg underneath my house. I forgot to mention that in this dream I lived in a house raised up on cinderblocks. C-laas-E. My life really needs to get more interesting. At this point, even my dreams are lame.

Speaking of houses, my time as of late has been consumed in attempting to get our house in market shape. My dad's best friend just happens to be our realtor. His general opinion is that my life is a chaotic mess. Generally he would be correct. However, when he bet my dad $1 that we would not have the house ready for market by next Monday, I was determined to get that dollar in my dad's pocket. Saturday and Sunday I spent the majority of the day cleaning all the unnecessary furniture, clothes, toys and junk out of my children's rooms. From Rileigh's room alone, I took out 2 garbage bags of items to donate, 1 bag of clothes to get rid of, 2 bags of trash and filled 2 Rubbermaids with items to move to the new house. If anyone, I repeat, anyone sends a toy in my child's direction between now and the end of May, you will get it. And be very scared of the yet to be determined "it." Sunday night I had the grand plan to attack all of the cobwebs hanging from the rafters in our basement. There were several things wrong with this. I am allergic to feathers. My plan involved using a feather duster. My assumption that because the duster was on a long stick it wouldn't bother me was totally wrong. Also, the copious amounts of dust flying in my face as I stood straight under the rafters I was attacking served only to exacerbate the situation. Eventually I learned to move to the side (....and only how many years of school did it take me to get this smart....). The biggest problem of them all? I had no idea that cobwebs were actually abandoned spiderwebs. Serious. I thought they were just things that happened in unused spaces when dust collected in a corner. EWWWW. I hate spiders almost as much as I hate sleeping bags. I have a completely irrational fear that makes me run out of rooms shrieking and stomping all around when I see a spider, no matter the size. For the duration of the night, I swear there were tiny spiders crawling all over me that had jumped on my when I went to rid my basement of what I thought were innocent dust collections. Never again. Never, ever again. If someone wants to buy my house, they can buy it cobwebs and all.

In other more exciting news, I have a grand total of 14 days of school left to attend. Don't kid yourself, that spreads over 3 1/2 weeks, but no one actually counts the days they don't have to be at school. Yahoo!

The tale of why any of my future televisions will be LCDs...

Sometimes my husband has brilliant ideas. Most days he doesn't. I am undecided on the latest.

Earlier in the week, Justin came home and told me that someone at his work had a large (and by large, I mean larger than our dink) television that they were no longer using. No longer using because it sat in front of a treadmill, which was the real thing they were no longer using. Anyway, he told Justin that he could have the TV if Justin could come and pick it up. The opportunity for a large(r) television in the midst of March Madness almost made Justin's head spin. That night after work, he set off to pick up the TV under the guise that I would help him unload it from his car and bring it inside.

Problem #1 arose prior to the television even being brought in from the car. The thing was large. And by large, I mean, baby got back. Its rear stuck out so far, it was too long to fit in our armoire. Justin measured the depth of the tv, then the depth of the armoire, then the depth of the tv, then the depth of the armoire....then, as if it would magically make either the tv shorter or the armoire longer, he measured them both again. We decide to move the armoire in the corner and bring up an old coffee table from the basement to set the TV on. I pouted a bit because I am not a fan of televisions sitting out loud and proud in the middle of a room. But I gave in when it looked as though it would be our only option.

Problem #2 arose in getting the television out of the car. Holy. Moly. Heaviest thing I have ever had to lift in my life. I made it from the back of the car to the door of the garage before I demanded it set it down. This was a major mistake. Setting it down meant I had to pick it back up. Justin grabbed his side and told me to let him know when I was ready to lift my side. Little did he know that I was lifting. In fact, I was lifting so hard that I thought my insides were going to become outsides. It was not coming even an inch off the ground. Eventually, by some miracle, we got the television off the ground, through the garage door and about a foot into the house before I needed a beak again. Justin told me to rest it on my hip. His brilliant advice lead to a 7 x 2 inch dark purple bruise on my leg. That is not an estimate. I measured it.

Problem #3 arose when we finally got the TV to its resting place on top of the coffee table. Um, how do I put this delicately. It looked about as attractive as a couch on a front porch. Whiskey Tango at its finest. Justin then devised a plan to cut a hole in the back of the armoire...which would not be visible because the armoire was now in the corner. This was an example of when my husband has a great idea. (I am serious too, no sarcasm this time). Although this created a solution for the television, we were now faced with a large blank wall were the armoire used to be housed.

Enter Problem #4. This was my favorite problem. Solving this problem meant that I had to shop for solutions:

I am loving my problem-solving skills! We already had the chairs and the "H" but I found the remainder of it yesterday. Rileigh and I were bargain shoppers. We hit the sales at Hobby Lobby and Home Goods, even bringing in coupons. I think this is my new favorite part of the house....and right before we put it on the market....

Home Sweet Home.

Guess who has news? Hmmmm? Give up? That’s right ITS ME! Oops...don’t tell Justin I said me...I meant WE!

In a three-day whirlwind, we bought a house. In Dodge City. We are officially becoming Kansans again. Did I mention I have never actually seen the house? Minor details, right?

A few weeks ago, Addison and I traveled the long hike back to Dodge City to look at potential future houses. We looked at a lot of houses. We looked at a lot of houses I really loved. I would have had to love them a lot, because if we bought one of those houses, the house would be all we had. No furniture, no lights allowed on, no air conditioner, no food. Just the house. So needless to say, we didn’t put in offers on the many we saw...though it took some restraint on my part. That and my dad said "no way" and yes, like a good little girl, I still listen to everything my dad says.
About a week and a half ago, my realtor sent me a listing for a house that had just come on the market that day. It was actually in our price range and it was in a neighborhood in which we would be delighted to live. I arranged for my dad to see it the next afternoon. That was helpful. My dad has absolutely zero opinions on things. And if I could pick a number below zero, that would probably be more accurate. I am on the phone with my dad as he is walking through it. "Well, I am in a kitchen now. And now I am walking into a living room. Oh, and here is the master bedroom" Thanks for the descriptors, Dad. He did say he really liked the neighborhood and any positive descriptor from my dad necessitates action. So, I called my mom and my sister-in-law and sent them to view the house that evening. My sister-in-law is creative genius. She can take a house and make it a home in cheap, creative and beautiful ways. So when she called me after going through the house and said "You had better buy this." I was completely sold (figuratively and literally I suppose). We called the realtor that night and she worked overtime getting our contract together. We submitted our offer on a Saturday, just 2 days after I had gotten the initial email.

Saturday night I was at Rileigh’s variety show. I could hear my phone buzzing in my purse, but we had just gotten a lecture from the principal at the beginning of the show about getting out of our seats during the middle of an act. I have been out of grade school for a while now, but I still fear the wrath of principals, so I was not about to get out of my seat to answer the call. During intermission, I snuck out to check with my realtor, who confirmed that our offer had been accepted. I yelled out in celebration and did a little dance in the hallway. I was then given the stink-eye from the Stepford Wives, but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have to see them next year. Did another little dance just to spite them.
So here is the house, have a look-see:

If you want to see the inside in all its 60's glory, follow the link: http://DODGECITY.fnismls.com/publink/default.aspx?GUID=dd882ae0-02af-43f9-ab61-3669d4de8306&Report=Yes

We will have some renovations to do, but that is okay. Part of making a house a home is making it your own. I think remodeling to fit the needs and taste of our family will do just that. I have spent the last couple of weeks dreaming up inspiration for the house. That has been really fun, especially knowing that my inlaws can make it all happen. Really anything I can dream up, they can make happen. "Babe, I don’t really like that wall there, could we move it over there?" BOOM! It happens. "I could really use an outlet on this wall" Another BOOM, and we have an outlet. Its like magic. I have never met such fantastic, handy people.

Here is the current kitchen/eat in area inspiration photos. I have been DYING for a banquette. It will happen:

Love the colors too....I have been really digging colored cabinetry and how CUTE is that little red table?!?

First we have to figure out what to do with the stove:

yep, that is no joke...that is our stove.

And just because it is so adorable, here is the inspiration for Addison's bedroom. Big steps for Addison when we move, she will have a big girl bed!

I cannot wait to get my hands on the house. Someone asked me yesterday when I might be able to actually see our new house. I suppose that just may be when I bring my boxes through the front door! Oh man.....

holla from chi-town

I am temporarily coming to you from my spring break blog, shared with 6 other interns.
Its the story.....of 7 stranger....picked to travel to Chicago....

The Real World, Immigration.

Check it out: http://awindyspringbreak.blogspot.com/

So about those birthday

My original plan for the last post was to recount some of my favorite birthday gatherings, but I simply got swept away in telling you all about what I did for this birthday. Apparently I did a lot because that was a long post. However, I had already gathered my thoughts regarding my parties of the past....and no one likes wasted thoughts, so I am delighted to offer 2 posts in the span of two days.

And in no certain order--my favorite birthday parties:

1. I really can't remember the exact number, but I think it must have been when I was in Kindergarten. I had about 8 girls and we went to a hair salon and all had our hair done. I am not talking cute child hair. I am talking va-va-voom sex kitten hair. I loved it. Afterwards we came back to my house and our mothers did our make-up and we got dressed in old prom and cocktail dresses. I thought I was the snazziest little things this side of the Mississipi. And damn it, I didn't just think it, I was. We then had a tea party, complete with cookie and juice. The party did go down hill from there thanks to Abby trying to steal my spotlight, my protest of such and some snarky comments from a party-crash (that ultimately took me about 8 years to forgive)....but I wont get into that. Now you see why I love birthdays? Mine were totally cool from the get-go.

2. In grade school my parents used to make me invite my whole grade to my birthday parties. Bonus to that concept is you have find a place big enough to house all of those houligans. IN about 3rd or 4th grade, my parents rented out the Sheridan for my party. For those of you non-SwK-ers, it is a facility with a gym/basketball courts and an indoor pool. I was the coolest kid in grade school.

For some reason I am drawing a blank for the parties occurring during my middle and high school years. Not sure why that is about middle school....but for high school I am sure there is a reason for my non-memory...mainly a red-colored liquid with a tiger on the label.

College birthdays, on the other hand, are burnt into my memory. Maybe because they were not that long ago, but I think it was because they were so fun.

3. My 21st birthday was great fun. Unlike a lot of people, I actually remember mine. I had a lot of family in town to celebrate. I know I have mentioned this before, but I have the best family. See, look:

Jessi made me a great shot book. We started out the night at the boys' house at 1000 Leavenworth. You know its going to be a good night when you say "We started out at 1000 Leavenworth..." Debbie bought me a bunch of mini liquor bottles. That Debbie, she always has the perfect gifts. We then hit up all the bars in Aggieville. I completed more than 21 of my requisite shots (sounds crazy now...) and came home, wherein I kicked Cole's door clean of the hinges because I thought he was locked in. Turns out he was just sleeping.

4. For my 22nd birthday, I hosted an 80's party. I. LOVED. THAT. PARTY. I made a cd mixer of 80s music as the invitations. Jess and I splatter painted a large piece of fabric and covered my living room furniture. We decked ourselves out in 80s garb, complete with terrible hair and awesomely bad make-up. My cousins Kalli and Katie joined in on the action and my friends from high school showed up in the most hilarious (aka hideous) old prom dresses I had ever seen. Here is one:

The party was so spectacular that an impromptu dance party/contest broke out in my living room. Yep, it was that cool.

I have had some pretty kick-ass birthdays, this year being no exception. Hmm....what should I plan for next year.....

Happy birthday to.....ME

I adore birthdays. And not just my birthday. I don't discriminate. It is equal opportunities birthdays around here. I will like yours too. But it just so happened to be mine last week and I like it best.

Overall number 26 was a pretty fantastic one. My dad and becky came up the weekend before. My dad started the trip out wonderfully by leaving his wallet and phone at home. Luckily he just got a new car and it comes with a telephone number (kids and their gadgets these days...). I can call it and be broadcast over the car speakers like voice of God. Pretty powerful stuff. Any way. Becky has never been to St Louis, so we did the tourist thing Saturday, which was fun...because even though I have lived here 3 years, I still consider myself a tourist. We rode the egg of death up to the top of the arch and back. Becky is terrified of heights. And apparently a masochist. But it was fun. For my birthday Becky took me to get new makeup. I had a 40+ year old woman with purple, green and yellow sparkly eye shadow do my eyes. It was a scary process, but I didnt care because I was being pampered. And even if it looked like I had been punched in the eye after I got finished, it was totally worth it because, like I said, I was being pampered. THEN I got to pick out new make-up (squeeeeeeeel!) and my dad and becky took us out for my birthday dinner at Mosaic....a trendy tapas restaurant. Oh. My. Lord. Delish. And super uber trendy. Pretty sure my cool points increased the moment I walked in the door. After a great weekend, I was so sad to see them leave Sunday morning. I swear, the clock moved double time that weekend. Uncool.

My actual birthday day was pretty uneventful. Well actually it was full of events, just not ones I wanted to do (i.e. finishing Rileigh's science fair project....7-year-old +glue gun = bad). But Justin redeemed the day by bringing home Chipotle. Quick word of wisdom. A burrito the size of a newborn baby makes any day the best day. Justin had already given me my present about 3 weeks prior (new video camera....holla!)

The weekend following my birthday, Abby flew in for a girls weekend. I took her to my school, ate a chili dog and made her fold my laundry. She said she is going to come back every weekend. That night we went out for sushi followed by a comedy club. Sitting at dinner, I felt a tap on my shoulder, followed by a "hey." I had a momentary panic attack trying to rack my brains as to who in the world I would actually know in St Louis. Not only know, but someone who could recognize me from behind. That was a total of no one, so I was prepared to turn around and have an awkward "i have no idea who you are" conversation and was shocked to turn around and see Jessi standing there. WTF. How did she even get here? Turns out those two concocted a plan to surprise me....which is impossible because I am Nancy Drew and I find out everything. Serious. They totally got me. So we stuffed ourselves with sushi and all headed to the comedy club. I love those things. People are so much funnier in person. The next day after a delish breakfast prepared by my loving hubs, we shopped til we dropped...and I mean that literally, not figuratively.

That evening we went to....wait for it......wait for it.....ROLLER DERBY. Yep, I am serious. It was....interesting. Jessi said that you could group the crowd into 3 categories: People who belonged in porns, People who look like they could be on Beetlejuice, and normal folks. I am hoping for the latter category, but I think the jury is still out. After roller derby, we rallied and headed to a local bar, where I realized kids these days are skank-tastic and old men are creepy. Sunday I had to drop off both at the airport. I had an amazing weekend and was bummed to see them go. Have I mentioned that I have the best family ever?

So to recap #26 entailed using the voice of God, riding in an egg , letting miss mardi gras have her way with my eyes and eating small plates of goodness--followed by unprecedented surprise, raw fish, no tabasco on cupcakes, a million miles at the mall, women on wheels and creeping people at a bar. YAHOO! it was a success! Thanks to all for making my bday so special!

The misadventures of miss addie

Sunday we busied ourselves with Super Bowl preparations. In the kitchen, I was working like a well oiled machine, whipping up some killer dishes. Justin was completing his standard floor cleaning duties. Addison sweetly asked her dad to let her go outside. Everyone knows that with one bat of Addie's lashes, Dad is putty in her hand. Our backyard is fenced and secure, so Justin bundled her up and let her roam around solo. There I was, elbows-deep (well, not really) in mozzarella, alfredo and cream cheese when it happened--Justin screams at me--

"SHE'S GOT A SQUIRREL!"

On motherly instinct, I barrel out the door, full speed, ready to fight to the death with a rabid squirrel that may or may not be clawing my toddler's eyes out. I don't stop to ponder how in the world a two-year-old blessed with my genes could be fast enough to trap a squirrel. I just charge ahead at Addison, flailing my arms and screaming "Drop the Squirrel! DROP the squirrel." Addison turns to me, wide-eyed. She has the squirrel tucked up under her arm, like a stuffed animal she might lug around the house. Upon seeing her mother come at her like a freight train, she whips the squirrel out from under her arm and chucks its lifeless body to the side. That's right, folks. My daughter was toting around a squirrel carcass.

I rush her inside. Luckily she was wearing gloves and her overstuffed coat. Justin strips her and attempts to sanitize, in case any squirrel germs somehow leaked through her layers of clothing.

The rest of the day I am checking for symptoms of the bubonic plague. When I pick her up from the sitter's yesterday, her sitter comments on how strangely she was behaving. I tell her my plague theory and we brainstorm about possible other problems that said squirrel could have transfered to my daughter. She convinces me that its all in my head and Addie is just probably tired.

Later that night, our sitter calls. "Do you think Addie might have licked the squirrel?" Oh, shit. What do I do now? I wonder what will happen when the doctor reads 'Reason for Visit: My child may or may not have licked a squirrel carcass...." Yep, thats going to go well.