How Mamma Mia Helped Me Make One of the Best Decisions Of My Life

Hello All!

Sorry about the delay. I was busy all day yesterday doing... nothing.  I'm not even kidding.  I sat down in the morning to do some email stuff, update my blogs and the next thing I knew it was like 5pm and my house was a wreck and nothing had been packed or cleaned.

So I threw together some crackers, cheese and meats and the whole family ate it while watching a Christmas movie in the living room. :-D  It was super fun, actually.

Today I have been more productive and have cleaned the kitchen, run the dishwasher, picked up the living room and had a visit with a friend.  Man, I'm really going to miss my friends up here when we move back. =(

Anyway, this story is about me.  And Mamma Mia.  And Romeo.   So let's begin, shall we?

Years ago when I was just a wee lass of about 20 or so, I caught the eye of Josh.  I had no idea, though.  I was oblivious.  I was friends with his sisters, but never noticed the skinny-as-a-bean-pole-uber-responsible-boy/man that was Joshua.  He was going to school to get his transfer degree and working a full-time graveyard shift.  He was also in charge of the Children's Activities at church.

As I told him later, I just saw him "stoically marching around conducting his business."  And it was true.  I didn't see anything else in him at all.

Fast forward 3 years.  The boy still likes me.  I am still completely oblivious (even though he *insists* I gave him "signs" that I liked him... like talking to him.)  I am spearheading a trip with 4 other people; we're headed to Norway to work on a huge remodeling project on the main conference center there.  I am totally involved and can't wait to go on my trip. Then, I get an email.

It's from Josh.  I'm at work, and as I read it, I'm whispering, "No, Josh, no.  Don't do this!!"  Because he's basically telling me he likes me and that he just wanted me to know before I leave on my trip.  He's afraid I'm going to get married while I'm working over there. (???)  But the reason I am so torn up is because I know I have to tell him I'm not interested. Like, at all.  And what girl wants to do that!?  So I immediately try to call my best friend.  For like, 45 minutes, I'm redialing but can't get through to her.  And I can't do this on my own!

I finally get through to her and we both agree that the only thing to do is nip this in the bud.  Make it VERY clear I am not interested in a relationship, I am going on my trip and that's that.  Don't wait around, buddy.  Sayonara.  But I don't want to hurt his feelings.  So that night we (my friend and I) write what I *THOUGHT* was a very nice, but very clear email.  Thanks, but no thanks.  Don't take it personally.

I later found out that it basically was a knife in his heart, he went to the movies alone and then got drunk at home for the only time in his life.  **We're still working on our communicating skills** :-D

But then, you know, I started watching him.  Noticing him.  And you know what?  He doesn't stoically march around ALL the time.  He's actually got a very big heart.  He's responsible.  He drives a sweet Jetta.  He dotes on his mom.  And, if you can look past his clogs and hair part, he's actually kinda cute.  So for 3 months I watch him and without even knowing it he starts to make his way into my heart.  I truly respect this man.  He is a true, honest, upstanding, dependable person.

Then he pulls out the big guns.  White t-shirt, jeans, and a neon orange construction vest.  I wish I was kidding, but I'm not.  I took one look at him in that outfit and I *knew*.  My heart changed.  I turned to say something to my friend who was sitting next to me, and she saw my eyes and knew.

But the thing was, I was supposed to be going on this trip for a year.  And I knew it wouldn't be even remotely the same if I was in a relationship, as opposed to going absolutely unattached.  What to do???

Enter MAMMA MIA!!  Annie (that's my friend who was stuck to my hip from age 10-24, and is now my sister-in-law.  Yeah, she married Josh's brother.) and I had tickets to see a production of Mamma Mia. We bought a program and sat down and were chatting.  See?  Here's my program:


 So we're sitting there discussing my dilemma and I'm telling her, "I just wish God would give me a sign!  Should I go to Norway and have this wonderful year long experience, which I had led from the very beginning?  I got all our visa paperwork, drove us to the lawyers to make sure it was correct, corresponded with the leaders in Norway.  Should I do that and finish what I started?

Or should I get to know this guy, whom I've come to deeply admire and respect?  So I was saying, "I wish God would just give me a SIGN!!!!"  And then I see this in my program:

It says, "Get to know me".  And there's a picture of a man with a silly hair part and cloggish shoes.  Now, if that isn't a sign I don't know what is!!!

You should have seen how big my eyes were and Annie and I just burst out laughing.  And then we thoroughly enjoyed every single second of the musical, and it remains one of my most favorite shows ever to this date.  The new one with Meryl Streep is just FABULOUS!!!!

So anyway, we go home and I write an email back to Josh, asking if he's still interested in getting to know me.  He was and ten days later we were engaged.  I kid you not.  Ten days, people.  Not a lot of time to go from unsure, getting your sign in a magazine and then being betrothed to each other.  I wouldn't necessarily recommend it. ;-)

It's worked out beautifully for me, though.  I love Josh with all of my heart.  He has been my rock these past 6.5 years and has stood faithfully by my side in sickness and health.  He has stepped up to help me when I couldn't do it myself.  He has supported me, encouraged me, and his love has never wavered, even when I went psychocrazy after having Owen.

I sure lucked out.  He is a gem and I surely don't deserve him.  But I am so incredibly thankful he's mine.  The man is a romantic and not afraid to show it.  He draws me bubble baths with candles.  He brings me flowers.  He makes me Mimosas.  He always says I'm beautiful, even at my heaviest, even when I couldn't manage to shower for days at a time and my hair resembled Einstein's.  Even when he would come home from a long day at work to a house that had deteriorated to a pigsty, and I was crying on the couch and the kids were glassy-eyed from watching tv all day.  He still told me I was beautiful and that he loved me.  And he showed me by his actions that he meant it. And he still does.

So, as you can see, I am eternally indebted to Mamma Mia for helping me make one of the best decisions of my life. :-)

Mamma Mia!

Goodness, it's been far too long since I've posted here!

Life is crazy busy, but I promise I'll be back later (hopefully tonight) with a fun post.

Here's a hint: 

And it plays a key role in the beginning of my relationship with Romeo.

Friday Fess Up

It's FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am so glad it's Friday; this week has dragged on and on and on. I'm ready for a weekend with my hubby at home, a dinner date with friends, and a special church celebration on Sunday.

Some (oh my goodness, I am totally losing it! I just typed "Sum"... whooooo boy. This is particularly weird because math has ALWAYS been my absolute worst subject.) Annnnd now I've completely lost my train of thought and can't remember what I was going to say.

Let's just continue on and pretend we didn't see that little bit of dementia, mmmmmkay?

I confess:

I don't sit straight on the chair at the dinner table. I sit at a 90* angle to the table. Yes, sideways. I have no idea why I do this, but I do it every single meal. I put my feet on the foot rest of the chair next to me and turn my torso towards the table. Like this woman, only my torso/head/face/mouth would be facing the table. And Josh almost never faces the opposite way from me when we're sitting together. And he sure as heck doesn't resemble Kevin Bacon. And I may be pale, but my legs don't disappear totally into my shoes like that.

I always use a knife while eating. I can't eat anything without a knife to cut and scoop my food onto my fork. Spent one too many months in Europe, I guess.

I don't drink while eating meals, usually. The only exceptions are if we eat out and the waitperson brings me water or if I have coffee with my breakfast on weekends. Most of the rest of the time I set a cup for myself, but never actually use it. So my glass is neither half full, nor half empty. It's just plain empty.

Due to a severe lack of drinking liquids, I only use the bathroom once or twice a day. Hardly ever more than that. I'd make an effort to down those liquids if I had a plush toilet like this one. I'd go in there just to look at it. Gold and Diamonds, anyone?

I don't know what's more disturbing... the fact that I googled "toilets" or the fact that several wedding dresses came up. Please tell me what this has to do with toilets??? Do you think they are made out of toilet paper?

I do love Mimosas, however. Plus, it's fun to say. Mimosa. Raise your hand if you just whispered "mimosa" out loud at your computer. ;-)

I wear perfume almost every single day. If I forget to put it on, I feel naked; sort of like how some women feel without make-up. I wear YSL's La Parisienne and I just love it. (THANKS, MOM!)

Each week I clip 60 nails besides my own. Grimy fingernails is a pet peeve of mine, and although my children have been known to have dirt under their nails I try to keep it in check. As a side note, may I just advise you never to google "fingernail clippings". Otherwise, you might come upon such frightening items as this... hand-shaped jar to... hold your nail clippings? GAG!!!

I don't understand how anyone who bakes/cooks can have long fingernails. It's just not practical; food gets stuck under them and that's not sanitary. IMO (that's "In My Opinion" for you non-cyberspeakers). How can you even chop with those things!?

If you do choose to have long nails, however, there are certain employment opportunities available just for you. Say, butterfly/nail art hand model:

Whilst searching for and finding all these pictures having to do with fingernails, I was attempting to eat some no-bake cookies I made the other day. They have chocolate, peanut butter, oatmeal and... coconut. And coconut is eerily chewy and I wouldn't recommend eating it while viewing disturbing images of fingernails.

I can wiggle my left ear up and down. But only my left one. And only up and down. Interestingly enough, when I googled "left ear" TONS of images of the *right* ear came up. Huh.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE candy canes. And avocados. But not together.

I don't like ham. I can eat one piece, once a year but that's about it. I gotta admit even this picture made my stomach heave up into my throat. Bleh.

When I was young I got my ears pierced and I remember one specific trip to Disneyland (we lived close at the time) where someone (clearly I'm an ungrateful wretch, cuz I can't remember who) bought me my Favorite. Earrings. Ever. They were dangly! And Donald Duck! Suuuuuch exquisite taste in fine jewelry I have.

I am up for the Worst Mother of the Week award, and I'm pretty sure I'll win by a landslide. I forgot or was otherwise late to get Kate from the bus TWICE this week. Both times the poor dear was pounding on the door, in the pouring rain. The second time a saintly fellow mother named Crystal walked home with her and waited until I got there. HOWEVER, I would like to state for the record, that it is only partially my fault. The bus was 7 minutes early, otherwise I would have been there. The second time. The first time I just plain ol' forgot.
This is pretty much what she looked like. Minus the huge harp.

And, ironically, this is what comes up if you google "orphan on door stoop":

Double Huh. Somebody's taking the Pollyanna spirit to the next level.

I have a weak (or maybe it's super strong?) conscience. One time when I was probably in junior high or maybe early high school a group of friends and I went to the movies. We watched our show and snuck into another one. I felt soooo bad, that afterward I told my friends I was going to the bathroom but I really went back and paid for all of us for the second movie. I'm pretty sure the guy working the cashier thought I was the biggest moron ever.

I've had a pet pig, pet goat, pet turtles and even a pet cow. That we bottle fed. Then hand fed. Then killed and ate. All the meat from him was lovingly labeled "BB". That stood for "Black Bull". We were real creative with names. And I always pretended to be bothered that we were eating him, but in reality he was kinda mean so I didn't mind too much.

Although google was kind enough to also bring this up when I typed in "black bull":

Whoah. That just looks... painful.

Let's move onto something prettier, shall we?
I really love orchids but since I have a black thumb I can not manage to keep them alive. =(

And last, but certainly not least, I am OBSESSED with my sister's blog. I stalk it. Refresh the page multiple times a day waiting for a new post. Which is not a very productive way to spend my time, nor is it fruitful since she has shoddy internet at her apartment. In any case, I read it and enjoy every single word. Go check it out. Aaaaannndddd.... GO! (You can click the link down there and it'll take you straight there! Yippee!)

Joyous In Hope...

P.S. I don't know WHAT is up with the wonky spacing today. In my draft mode it all looks fine and dandy, spaced nice and even, everything just so. But as soon as I hit publish something goes funky and it ends up ugly and misshapen and disfigured... okay, I may be getting a little over-dramatic but it BUGS me!

Courtesy of Kate

I didn't know there'd be another installment of Courtesy of Kate, but lo and behold, there is!  She provides me with more material than I thought. ;-)

This time, I'd like to invite you to the bustling but cozy restaurant they opened.  (Side Note: I can NOT for the LIFE of me EVER spell restaurant the correct way.  NEVER EVER.  I also can never spell deodorant correctly.  OH! I just spelled it right! Without using spell check! Go me!!)

Ahem.  Back to the restaurant.

May I introduce, without further ado... Baze Bee Restaurant AKA Busy Bee.  She came up with the business name all on her own.

Look how happy the customer is! (And don't ask me who, what, where, why or how she decided to begin drawing bazoomas on her girl people.  I honestly don't know. And sometimes she makes them VERY well endowed.)


May I present, The Menu:

 

I'm told this says the following:

Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich

Spaghetti and Meatballs

Taco

Meat and Cheese Sandwich

Ice Cream

I ordered the spaghetti and meatballs:

 

Which came with a glass of ice water (garnished with a wedge of lemon!)

Although, I must admit the taco and the meat sandwich (with a side of pickle) also looked delicious.

 

And you can't forget dessert!  Ice cream, YUM.

And here is the chef herself, hard at work.

 

Someone ordered the meat sandwich with a pickle, and it's just waiting to be sent out with the waiter.  

I don't know where she comes up with this stuff!  I was minding my own business, reading The Happiness Project (another post entirely) and then this lovely lady and her handsome waiter brought me this fabulous meal!

Ahhhh, I'm so lucky to have a live-in chef.  Now I just need to work on getting a maid and personal trainer.

The time I cried in an elementary school gymnasium

Yesterday Kate had an assembly at school. I was under the impression she'd actually be singing in the concert part. I was wrong. She sat on the floor with the rest of the school and watched a handful of kiddos do the singing. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We show up a little early to get a seat. It was an assembly honoring Veterans and I saw a few men in uniform; both old and young. I smiled on the inside. Uniforms do that to me.

We go inside, the boys and I, find a seat (no bleachers... we found a bench) and sat down waiting for it to start. It takes a while for all the kiddos from the school to file in and find their seats (on the floor) so the music teacher has us all singing to pass the time. "God Bless America". Cue tears. Seriously, as soon as I opened my mouth to start singing, the tears sprang out of my eyes and ran down my face. And then we sang it again. And again. And again. It took longer than she thought for everyone to get seated. By the last rendition I was able to sing without blubbering, frantically wiping the waterfall of tears from my eyes.

Then, the Vets came in. Cue sobbing. They were announced, walked down the aisle with the child from school they were related to, and were just the cutest thing EVER. Several old men, many using canes and walkers, proudly marching down that aisle in their uniforms. I couldn't help myself. I was so proud of them, my heart was bursting. There was even a WWII vet there! There were also some younger men there, fathers and uncles of students.

And then, mayhem entered. In the form of my boys. Who were seriously acting like they had never been in a public place, let alone knew the value of remaining still and silent to honor these brave men. They were bouncing, whining, kicking, squirming. So I had to leave. Pack them up, throwing Owen over one hip and taking Christian's hand in a death grip. They screamed bloody murder all down the hall, and I'm sure everyone in the gym could hear them.

Good Lord, I about died. I thought for sure I'd have an aneurysm and die of embarrassment and frustration on the spot. I so wanted to stay and see the rest of the assembly but two little people totally prevented me from it. The kicker? They started screaming and yelling that they wanted to go back. After they'd just made it seem like I was forcing them to sit on sharp nails while shoving bamboo sticks under their fingernails. Um, no thanks. I'd rather not have a repeat performance.

So we came home and I took many deep breaths, contemplated a drink, decided against it and just made them lunch and put them to bed. I was so happy with myself! I hadn't maimed them in any way! :-P

So I'm sitting on the couch just settling in to watching Food Inc on Netflix when I hear someone knock on the door. Now, let me tell you another little story from a few days ago. I was sitting in the living room reading, and heard someone knock on the door. I wasn't expecting anyone and we have a very prominent No Soliciting sign, so I peeked out the window to see if there was a car in the driveway. There wasn't and I didn't see anyone at the door. (We don't have a peephole). So I went back to my reading. A few minutes later someone was rapping LOUDLY again. I looked out the window and NO ONE WAS THERE. I sat there, stumped, trying to figure out what was going on when the rapping started again. Um, yeah. It was a woodpecker. Pecking on the wood of the house right outside the window. :-P Totally fooled me!

Anyway, getting back to my original story... so I heard the knocking and thought to myself, "Self. Don't be fooled. It's just that dingdang bird again." So I ignored it and went on watching my show. But it continued. And got louder. So I peeked out the window and caught a glimpse of pink. My heart dropped.

My poor, sweet daughter was standing at the door, in the rain, waiting to be let in!!! Oh deary me! I forgot she had half day school, didn't meet her at the bus stop, she had to walk home, alone, in the rain and then her own mother wouldn't let her in! GAH! GUILT!!!!!!

I opened the door and scooped her into my arms, hugging and kissing her (and crying again) and told her I was sooooooo sorry. She didn't seem to be bothered by it at all. She just was like, "It's ok, mom. Just don't forget again." And then has proceeded to remind me 18 times that she has EARLY RELEASE all week, and she'd really appreciate it if I could meet her at the bus stop. Duly noted.

So yeah. That was yesterday. To top it off, my husband worked late (really late... like didn't get home til who knows when and was gone again at 5a.m. this morning) and we had a HUGE windstorm. HUGE. Branches were falling off trees, the power kept going out and I was terrified one of the many giant trees in our yard was going to come crashing down on the house and smash us all.

But we were lucky. Besides flickering lights and a couple blackouts and the thumping of tree branches hitting the house, we survived. Not very rested, but we're all alive and kicking. :-D

Just Packing and Cleaning and Purging and Drinking...

That's a little ditty I wrote to the tune of "Wishing and Hoping", which will forever remind me of My Best Friend's Wedding. Ah, good times. =)  That movie actually has a really great soundtrack.  Lots of upbeat feel good music.

Anyhoo, the title says it all.  The packing, cleaning, and purging have begun, which leads me to a little bit of drinking. ;-)  In all truth, I'm a total lightweight.  Like, seriously.  No joke, I get a wee bit tipsy off of a... wine cooler.  Yup, a bottle of Fuzzy Navel and I'm giggling like a school girl, stumbling about.  It's true.  My friends and family can attest to this fact.  So in all reality, I don't drink that much.  I'm sort of on a Mimosa kick.  Orange juice and champagne (or spumante).  Yum. 

I got a bunch of boxes from Tammy, as I mentioned before, and we started the packing this past weekend.  We realized that last weekend and the coming weekend are the only free weekends we have til we move!! :-O  Can you even believe it!? I can't.  The weekend after Thanksgiving the youth group from back home is coming up to meet with the youth group here, so Josh will be gone doing that.  HOPEFULLY I'll be visiting with my super good friend Jen and her kiddos (including baby Macy!!) Otherwise I'll try to pack and parent. Not sure how successful I'll be at that little bit of multi-tasking. ;-)

Then, the first weekend of December I'll be in Arizona seeing Dr. Ray (and my mom and sis are both coming too!! WOOT!!) and the next weekend WE MOVE.  25 days, people.  That's how many days til we pack up the big ol' moving truck and head south.  I am setting up playdates left and right up here, determined to use the last of the time I have here.

I packed up all the CD's except Christmas music, so that is what I'm listening to as I pack and clean.  I just love Christmas music, and although I usually wait til after Thanksgiving to break it out, this year is different.  Everything seems a bit more rushed this year.  What with the move and my MIL's tumor, it seems best to make use of every single day.  Who cares that Thanksgiving hasn't come yet, I can still enjoy Christmas music!  Especially if it helps me with the dreaded packing.  And cleaning.  And purging.

It actually feels really good to get rid of stuff.  I don't do so well with clutter.

So that's what I'm up to.  Not super exciting, but it's gotta be done. 

If you have any helpful packing hints or suggestions, I'm all ears!

Friday Fess Up

*I have a crooked bottom. When I wear pants and skirts that have a seam down the front and back... well, they don't line up. If the front seam is in line with my belly button the back seam is off. Consequently, my skirts tend to shift sideways. My pants would too, except my legs prevent the shift from happening.

*I don't know how to fold fitted sheets. I just roll them, tuck them, and cram them in my linen closet.

*I love Warm Vanilla Sugar scented lotion/bubble bath from B&BW. I could eat my own arm after applying it.

*I have a site bookmarked that counts down the days til Christmas. There are 42 days left, in case you're wondering.

*I had a really disturbing dream the other night that I had 5 babies at once and they were all "little people". Basically they came out grown, but since they were "little people" they were still small. And this is just one in a line of many dreams I've had over the last week involving me, pregnancy, and a baby that has something wrong with it.

*To this day I still love the names we chose for our kiddos, and what they mean.

*I love the smell of a new box of Crayola crayons.

*I hope Starbuck's brings back their Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate. Then again, I am trying to not gain 700 pounds this holiday season. Hmmm. Conundrum!

*Owen says "acci-didn't" instead of accident. And I don't correct him because I think it's cute.

*Kate told a whopper of a tale the other day. Something about a HUUUUUUUGE man named Eli, who ate too much. One time he shoved 5 desserts into his mouth at once. Then he choked and died. True story. Her music teacher told her so.

*Christian was trying to count to 100. He got to 30 something and then I heard him mumble, "Am I dead yet?"

*I have made potato soup at least once a week for the past 4 weeks. It's super delicious and when I told Mr. Romeo that was what was on the menu he told me I "rocked his socks".

*I met Tammy from Tammy's Recipes yesterday. She is super warm and welcoming and her children are straight up GORGEOUS. I couldn't stop staring at them. Her little girl is named Ruth, to boot!

*Tammy gave me 45-50 boxes to jump start my packing process. I love it and hate it all at once.

*I can't even begin to describe how happy I am that we will be in our own cozy home for Christmas.

*The Almond Joy, Moose Munch and Sea Salt chocolates I got for my birthday are almost entirely gone. The Almond Joy actually didn't survive the drive home. The Moose Munch met it's demise while we watched Psych (since the Almond Joy was long gone) and the salted chocolate is withering daily.

*If I had limited counter space and had to choose between a microwave or my Kitchen Aid to reside there, I'd choose the Kitchen Aid in a heartbeat. I'm actually 99% sure I'm going to get rid of our microwave when we move. Or at least put it in the garage. Apparently it can kill up to 95% of the nutrition of food cooked in it.

*I learned that last tidbit from my FIL, who had asked if their head-level microwave could have contributed to his wife's brain tumor. (Not guilty, was the verdict.)

*I really only use my microwave to soften butter for baking. Well, and for re-heating food. But that's what the oven is for.

*I haven't written so many words about a microwave in my life, ever.

*Body Shoppe used to carry (maybe they still do... the one here went out of business) a shampoo called Cornflower. I used it on our honeymoon and ever since we've been on the hunt to find it again with no success.

*I just looked online and it's no longer available. Boo.

*I think that's enough confessions for one day. Amen.

Courtesy of Kate

Today's post comes to you courtesy of my 5 year old, Kate.  She's the tomboy who refuses to wear jeans. ;-) 

I was going through her backpack and folder of homework/school papers and lo and behold I found a bunch of fun stuff.

First of all, her notebook.  Every child is sent home with your typical Mead folder.  Nothing fancy, just a heavy paper folder to keep all the schoolwork in one place.

We've had approximately 30 days of school so far, and Kate has totally destroyed her folder. I mean, it's ripped, torn, sagging... basically it looks like she put it in the washing machine and then dried it in a hot oven.  Destroyed, I tell ya. 

The teacher must've noticed too, and she sent her home with a heavy duty plastic binder.  I'm not sure if she replaced all the student's folders, or if Kate is the sole recipient of the Indestructible Binder.  In any case, I laughed.

But look at these gems that I found inside the Indestructible Binder.  Priceless!!

First of all, we have a list of names of students who received some award or another.  I was so distracted by the things people name their children that the honor they were being bestowed was totally lost on me. Go ahead and read through it.  I'll wait.

Son? Really?  You couldn't come up with anything other than Son???
Eldar and Owne... Now, I'm hoping really badly that is a typo and it was supposed to say Owen.
Felila? Mtoo Wah??? Day?? Again, people.  Get a little creative, will ya?  Maybe not as creative as Kalacious, but still.  Obviously, Kate attends school with a rich blend of ethnicities (I just made that word up).

A big, fat hen.  Obviously Kate shares my body dysmorphic tendencies. (Another made up word by yours truly.) If this is a big, fat hen I don't even want to THINK about what I am.

Kate's favorite fruit or vegetable.  I never knew she was such a fan of.... lemons? I'm assuming that's what it is.  And since we have lemons so frequently in our home (about once every 10 years) it's easy to understand how that particular fruit is her favorite.

The answer to everything is ne, no, no.  Remember that.

And finally, Kate without the "K" is just... ate.

Go ahead, Make. My. Day.

Today is a stressed out, heavy day for me, so I'm going to post some things that make my day to lighten my mood. :)

~We're moving home in 36 days.

~I have the most fantastic, amazing, loving, caring, kind, helpful, romantic, hansdsome and best-smelling husband in the whole entire world. I am one very lucky girl.

~I have 3 beautiful, healthy children.

~I am surrounded by amazing friends and family.

~Starbucks is now selling eggnog lattes, my favorite.

~My birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas are on the very near horizon.

~I'm getting some knee high argyle socks for my birthday.  Don't ask me how I know.

~Almond Joy

~Funny Bumper Stickers

~Tea. And scones.

~Arthur's Perfect Christmas.  I have an unhealthy addiction to this movie. Yes, I'm almost 32.

 

 

~600 thread count sheets

~Tropical Vacations

 

~The Serenity Prayer

 

Have a wonderful day!