The {Not-So-Secret} Life of Jennifer Nicole

Goodbye, Jennifer Nicole.

2015-08-13T17:13:00.001-07:00

First off, I want to say that I've been blogging for years (like, before it was cool) and I've had several different blogs, with several different names, and subjects in that time, too. I started all of them with the best of intentions, but sadly, they all fizzled out.

Personally, I blame it on being an Aries, and the belief that we have tendency to go after new things with a ton of excitement, only to lose interest in them before we ever complete them. I can also blame it on a professionally diagnosed case of ADD. So, there you go, I have astrology and medicine on my side.

Anywho...

I've given this blog, a wannabe DIY blog, almost 4 years and (at least) 2 name changes, and it worked pretty well for me.

However, a few months ago, I started to grow out of the whole "paint-every-piece-of-furniture-that-I-own" phase and, at the same time, I also started to figure out that I do not have the talent, patience, or budget to continue to do project after project.

{Plus, it's also a little hard to fit a table saw into this apartment.}

As I slowly began to realize all of this, I began to contemplate what I should do with the blog, itself. I didn't want to stop blogging completely because I do love to write,
~~especially about myself,~~ but the whole DIY thing just wasn't working anymore.

As I thought about all of this, I went back to my blog and wound up on the stats page. I started noticing what posts had the most views and the most comments, meaning that they were also the posts that people enjoyed reading the most. I also noticed that most of these were the posts that I had enjoyed writing the most.

There were other things that these posts had in common, as well.

They were all about events and experiences that I'd had. Many of them were the posts where I had opened up and shared some of the details of my life, showing my vulnerabilities and imperfections. All of them, written from my heart.

Some were funny. Some were anything but funny.

They weren't written to impress people or just because I needed something to post.

They weren't written for anybody else, but me.

It was at that moment that I knew exactly what direction I wanted to take my blog in and what I wanted to write about.

I wanted to write about things that were a part of my life in some way, whatever way that might be. They could be experiences, observations, thoughts, hobbies, opinions...whatever. I just wanted to write for the fun of it, with no guidelines or boundaries to care about. I didn't want to have to stick to a subject. I wanted a blog that portrayed my personality. Basically, I wanted some type of diary of who I was, and what my life was like, and if people found it interesting enough to read, that would make it even better.

I also knew that I wanted whoever it was that read it, to not only be entertained, but to also feel like there was someone out there that they could relate to. In my own past, as a stay-at-home mom who is a
~~huge hermit~~ little bit of an introvert, it was the blogs that I read that made me feel less alone and more like a human. There were actually several different blogs that I read on a regular basis, but the blogs that I loved the most, though, were the ones where I felt like the blogger was authentic. The subject didn't matter as much as the bloggers authenticity and their willingness to show their own vulnerability.

This is not a difficult concept. In fact, a lot of successful blogs are built on it, which is also probably part of the reason for their, most likely, unintended success. Unfortunately, it was impossible for me to build all of my previous, and most recent, blogs on that concept when I was too busy hiding who I really was.

Those days are over, though.

So, I decided that it's time to grow up, put my big girl panties on, and blog about what I wanted to blog about, not what I thought people want me to blog about. I wanted to blog about me and my life, not a life that I created because I didn't think people could handle the real one. I wanted to blog as myself with my true personality, not as a person with a made up personality that I thought people would like more.

With all of that in mind, I began the process of "revamping" my blog a few weeks ago. First, I decided on a new name and then created a new domain based off of that name. Then, I switched from Blogger to self-hosted Wordpress. I also added a new design theme in order to give the blog the "fresh start" that I think it deserves. It's still very much a work in progress, and I still need to migrate my posts over there, but eventually it will be finished.

(I hope)

In the meantime, I really hope you'll join me over there, even with all of the "construction" still going on, and I want to make sure to let you know that you don't have to be a single mom, or even a mom at all, in order to feel as though you can relate to what I have to say on it. You also don't have to have Adult ADD, be a cosmetic junkie, or be in a relationship with someone, and you definitely don't have to be a Lesbian! In fact, you don't even have to be a woman (although my demographics say that 90% of you are) to be able to relate to what I have to say.

You just have to be human.

That's it.

Hopefully, if you do decide to follow me over there, you'll find that to be the case.

If not, then you just wasted several precious moments of your life reading this, and you will never again get that precious time back.

Bummer.

P.S. - I almost forgot, the new blog is located at:

www.thelmomdiaries.com.

Hope to see you over there.

Jen

What You're Telling My Kids When You Condemn Marriage Equality

2015-07-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

Before I get to the point of this post, I apologize in advance for the following reasons:

1. This is not the positive, feel good post that I had planned on writing
(I'll do that ~~in another 6 months~~ next time.)
2. It's an emotional and angry post that will likely be offensive to some of you.
3. I'm going to swear. A lot. If you don't like it, just pretend I'm saying fetch, crud, or darn, or even golly gee cheese whiz.
4. I'm pretty sure there will be several grammatical errors because I'm posting while upset and my editing skills become even more sub-par when I'm in this state.

Anyway, do you want to know what has me so upset that I had to begin this post with an apology?

What has me so upset that I am still shaking even though it happened this morning?

What has me so upset that I am on the verge of tears, and feel like I could break down and cry at any moment (which is not something that happens too often to me)?

And, most importantly, what has me so upset that I am contemplating the purchase of a punching bag instead of the new Urban Decay Naked Smoky Palette debuting in 6 days, 3 hours, 12 minutes, and 24 seconds according to the count down calendar...(Yes, it's THAT serious!)?

Do you want to know, just, what is it that has me so damn upset?

I'll give you a hint.

What is something that seems to piss every single person off at one time or another, yet, we still can't get enough of it?

Facebook, of course.

Well, specifically, it's a link that someone posted on Facebook to an article written in response to the passage of marriage equality that has me so upset.

(surprise!)

I read the article this morning, less than a week after the Supreme Court made its decision regarding marriage equality, and unless you live on Mars, you have probably noticed that the shit storm on Facebook that occurred as a result of that decision has remained pretty steady since then.

For the most part, I've been quiet (for me, anyway). I've "shared" a couple pictures that I thought were funny. I've commented on a few posts, but I haven't really come out full-force on the issue. This is mostly because I've been pretty ~~damn opinionated and loud~~ vocal in the past and so it's not necessarily a secret what my opinion on the matter is. I've seen quite a few posts and comments in support of the decision (Good hell, there sure are a lot of rainbow filtered profile pictures out there!) and I've seen quite a few posts and comments in disagreement with the decision. I've also seen posts from some people, pleading for everyone to stop this shit and get back to what's really important on Facebook, YouTube videos of cats.

For the first few days, I tried really hard not to read any of the negative articles I saw being shared because I didn't want to get upset about the same arguments that we've been having for years regarding marriage equality, that include hypothetical goat marriages and poor Adam and Steve.

I have to say, I was doing pretty good at avoiding the negative and focusing on the positive.

...and then this morning happened.

For the second day in a row, I read an article that included statements regarding the validity of LGBT families and the so-called harm done to children who have gay or lesbian parents and it infuriated me, much more than it has ever done in the past. In fact, I could feel my face getting hot and my hands starting to shake as I finished reading it and it wasn't because I was being attacked because of my sexual orientation.

It was because my children were being attacked because of my sexual orientation.

More accurately, they were being bullied.

Bullied? Yes, bullied.

(It may seem over-dramatic to use that term, but if you read the definition below that describes what bullying is, you'll see what I mean.)

Bullying is often defined as unwanted or aggressive behavior towards a person. It must also be repetitive and include an imbalance of power.

I think we can apply all of these to the current situation. The fact is, that children of lesbian and gay parents are experiencing unwanted and aggressive behavior targeted towards them and their families on a daily basis from the media, as well as from people (often, adults) in their communities. Do you think they want to hear their parents, who they love, being talked about in a derogatory way, just because of who they are, or that they like being told that their family does not deserve the same rights as other families? That seems pretty unwanted and aggressive to me. This behavior towards LGBT families is nothing new, we've seen it over and over, so it also fits the 2nd criteria, which is that it is repetitive. The last criteria, the requirement of the presence of an imbalance of power in this situation is also painfully obvious. We are talking about the power of adults vs. children, and the power of religion and the media versus the power of a child. It's pretty easy to see who has the majority of the power in this situation.

Simply stated, my children, and others like them, ARE being bullied by those who want to assert their religious authority and/or political power over them and their family, who say things that are hurtful and often not true, and who continue to repeat themselves over and over in order to keep the power in their favor.

The people that wrote the articles I read, along with the more recognized Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Ted Cruz, and many others who are publicly condemning marriage equality and claiming that our families are less than equal to any other family, and that our children are somehow being harmed because of our sexual orientation as parents, are actually the ones doing the harm.

They are acting as bullies, and, whether they realize it or not, they are bullying children and profiting from it.

They are doing so by publicly declaring a lack of acceptance and tolerance for gay and lesbian parents and their children, through the use of statements that support what I mentioned above. This can be considered the same as if they were to declare intolerance for the children directly, because when you condemn a parent to a child, you are saying to that child that something is wrong with them, too. (I learned this well-supported concept in divorce and child custody 101.)

Quite frankly, it's disgusting to me, not as a gay parent, but as a parent, period.

In my opinion, it should bother all parents, regardless of who they are.

Telling a child (either directly or indirectly) that their parents and families do not deserve the same considerations and rights as other parents and families, or that they are somehow being robbed or harmed because they have a gay parent, or parents, is much more harmful to them than having a gay parent ever could be.

My children are not being harmed by their mom being a lesbian. They are being harmed by the words and insults used to describe their mom by other people. They are being harmed by people saying that their mom shouldn't be allowed to have the same rights as other moms. They are being harmed by the people that are saying that June 26th, 2015 was the darkest day in American history because their mom now has the right to marry the person that she loves, no matter the gender.

(side-note: Really?? That's the darkest day? I think 9/11 was a tad worse.You know, because a FEW THOUSAND people died tragically, at the hands of terrorists. If not 9/11, what about Pearl Harbor, or any other event that has ended with mass casualties? As far as I know, nobody has died because of a gay wedding, but plenty of people have died because of hate that has been justified due to religious beliefs.)

Now, I'm not asking for people who disagree with the fact that I have been given the equal right to marry who I love, to stand up and cheer about something they don't believe is right ( just like I don't think I should have to stand up and cheer for Crocs). I'm not asking for anyone to change their opinion on what they consider to be marriage. I'm not asking to get married in anyone's religious temple, and I'm not asking anyone's pastor to perform a wedding ceremony as a religious figure (In fact, I strongly support you and your church's right to not do so).

What I'm asking for, is that people think of my children and their feelings, before saying that our family is "wrong" or "against God's plan", or otherwise condemning us, while using religion as justification.

Before saying that I am causing psychological harm to them just because of the gender I am attracted to.

Before making a derogatory comment in front of their 9 year old, who sits across from my son in school, after finding out that his mom has a female partner.

Before claiming that they are any less happier, or that they will have any more problems, than their peers who have straight parents, just because their mom is gay.

My sexual orientation does not make my children, or their feelings, any different than your children and their feelings. They feel the same emotions as your children do, and my heart breaks just as much when I see them hurt and upset, as your heart does when your children are hurt and upset.

My children are not any less, or any more, valid than your children.

Please remember that before you say something that might be hurtful to them, or other children in families like ours.

February 4th

2015-01-29T19:18:00.001-08:00

Today my divorce was made final by the state of Utah after many months, if not years, of my marriage already being over.

In a few more days, on February 4th, another finality will occur, as I leave this home for the last time, never again calling it "my home", except when speaking in past tense.

It "is" my home will become it "was" my home.

My home, that I watched being built over a period of 9 months and that was supposed to be the place where we could finally settle down and where our kids could finally memorize our address.

My home, where I agonized for weeks over what cabinets I wanted and what counter tops I thought would look best with them.

Should I go for the wood flooring or the more durable laminate flooring that looks just as good and would allow me to get the quartz counter tops I wanted?

{The counter tops won.}

My home where paint colors were chosen. Carpet was decided on. A bigger front porch was added as well as french doors off the dining room so we wouldn't have to go through the garage to let the dog into the backyard like the original floor plan called for.

My home, where I fought for two extra feet to be added on to the kitchen area so there would be space for a drop zone for coats and backpacks.

My home, will no longer exist as of February 4th.

A part of me feels like I should be grieving at the loss of this home that I spent so many months watching, as it was constructed.

Grieving at the loss of my life, as I knew it.

However...

A much bigger part of me recognizes that this home was all part of a facade.

A facade that I lived in for over 34 years and that was much bigger than 2,400 square feet.

A facade where I played the part of a housewife while at the same time doing my damnedest to hide my "terrible" secret, desperately trying to smile on the outside, while feeling as if I were drowning in an abyss on the inside.

This bigger part of me also recognizes how much better my life has gotten since making the decision to tear down that facade, which included a doomed marriage and friendships that dissolved as a result of its demise. In truth, these things, much like the smile on my face all of those years that I was completely miserable, actually never really existed.

(Actually, the person that said "I do" over 15 years ago, who built a home based on distraction, and friendships based on a lie, never really existed either.)

As I type this, I am sitting at the kitchen table, looking at everything I still need to pack, and thinking about how funny it is that my worst fear for so many years was that the facade that I had carefully created would crumble all around me and that my life, as I knew it, would fall apart as a result.
Well, the facade finally did crumble all around me.

And my life, as I knew it, did fall apart.

But in a plot twist, I ended up being the one who held the sledgehammer that caused it.

And on February 4th, I will remove the last of the debris created by the destruction of that facade when I walk out the door of this home and pick up my keys for my new one.

An honest one.

Our Family "Chaos Minimizing" Command Center

2015-01-10T16:46:00.001-08:00

A few months ago (yes, I said months), as I was getting ready to go back to school for the semester, I decided I needed to a better way to manage our busy schedules, organize those endless classroom letters, and display those fabulous report cards that my genius kids are always getting because they take after me, of course!

Once again, enter Pinterest and about a thousand examples of these leave-it-to-beaver organization centers, referred to by moms much more organized than myself as "Command Centers".

After days of pinning about a zillion of these so-called "command centers", I began planning my own version of one, which, let's face it, is really more of a "chaos-minimizing center" rather than a "command center". I knew I wanted to include a few things for sure: a monthly calendar (duh), a weekly calendar, some sort of sorting system for mail and homework, some place to write notes to each other, like "Hey mom, I'm -$16.00 on my lunch account because you keep forgetting to write the check and they said that if you don't give me one tomorrow, they will be sending me out to forage in the dumpster."

Anyway, once I had gathered all of my supplies, I began working on my "chaos-minimizing center".

.
I started with the monthly calendar first:

I knew a couple things before I started making the calendar. The first was that I wanted it to be magnetic, but that I also wanted to be able to write directly on it like a dry erase board. I also wanted it to be fairly large to accommodate my rather large handwriting (and my failing eyesight). A 12X12 size like I was seeing all over Pinterest would not do.

I decided on a size of 24X36, mostly because the sheet metal was already cut to that size and I didn't want to risk serious bodily harm by cutting it to fit a certain size.

Now, the sheet metal was not perfect. It did have some slight scratches and discoloration on it, which I take as being fairly normal because so did all of the other sheets. However, since I was planning on antiquing it to give it a rustic feel, I wasn't really worried.

After I got it home and spent even more time on Pinterest in search of an antiquing method to use, I found one that called for using a 50/50 vinegar-water solution and tried it.

which didn't work out too well...

After staining my hands a nice orange color when I picked the sheet up, I decided that it would be better to just cover the sheet in fabric and found a remnant of a neutral color fabric for really cheap at the fabric store

After covering the sheet with the fabric, I made the grid for the calendar next. I started by doing some ~~not-so-~~quick math in my head in order to figure out the size squares that I needed. Then I used a level and ruler to help me draw the lines straight.

After I was finally finished tracing the grid in pencil, I used washi tape to complete it.

The next step was labeling the days of the week, which I did using these chalkboard style labels I found at Michael's:

(obvious hint: use a permanent chalk marker for labels that you plan on being permanent wait for it to dry. I used regular chalk markers first and they smeared badly when I was trying to slide the calendar into the frame)

Next, I made the magnets that I would use for the numbers for the date. I used bottle caps that I found in the scrapbook section of the craft store where all of the embellishments are, round label stickers to write the dates on, and stuck them to the inside of the bottle caps. I used round magnets I found at Walmart on the backs (the strip ones weren't strong enough because of the fabric).

The original frame I bought was a cheap poster frame, and no where near strong enough to hold the sheet metal. In fact, it pretty much broke apart as soon as I lifted it up (I tend not to think of things like this ahead of time). I ended up having to take that one back and get one that was much more sturdy (and, unfortunately, much more expensive) so it would hold the weight of the sheet metal:

Here's how the calendar looks today:

(Okay, so it's actually how it looked back in November, but you get the idea.):

The weekly calendar that I posted about here sits below it and makes it easier to write the details of our week, rather than crowding up the monthly calendar with them. It also makes it easier for Diva and Destructo to know what's going on for the week as far, as what parent has them what day, since their dad's work schedule is unpredictable and his days with them change from week to week.

The next part of the command center involved a bulletin board on the adjoining wall where important notes and reminders could be hung, as well as a place where other papers and homework could be stored somewhat safely, instead of ending up on the counter top for more time than I'd like to admit collecting stains from various food and beverage items.

The file organizer is from TJ Maxx and has a bin dedicated to each child. I like that it also has a shelf on the top where I can store items that we frequently use and that are needed often for homework.

Aside from the file folders used to organize homework and chore charts (which I have yet to make, let alone use), I made each kid a binder to store the work they wanted to save and were most proud of during the year, along with their report cards and school pictures. I figured this is a much more organized way to store this type of stuff, rather than throwing everything into a plastic bin like I usually do.

I also decided that the kids should each have their own magnet/dry erase board to to hang other things up that they felt were important or to write notes to remind me of things like this:

The magnet boards can be found at Walmart or Target and I found the rustic steel letters of each of their first initials at Michael's above each of them to add a little bit of decorative touch.

On the opposite wall of the calendar, I hung a mail organizer and another dry erase/magnet board that I found at Office Depot to write reminders for myself on (which I still manage to forget). I also hung something else that I find to be rather special next to the mail organizer...

The recessed area next to the mail organizer wall was planned to eventually be a built-in with a coat rack and bench, but since I'm not going to be here much longer, I just hung some hooks on the wall for backpacks and coats and put a shoe organizer on the floor below them.

I put the bench that I refinished a long time ago on the wall opposite of the coat rack, under the calendar, so someone could sit while taking off their shoes if they wanted to. The basket below the bench is supposed to keep hats, gloves, scarves, and other miscellaneous things nicely organized as well.

Too bad, it hasn't worked quite that well in practice:

Anybody need a toddler size life jacket in January?

However, despite the apparent difficulties my children have with walking two feet to hang their backpacks up, I'm still really happy with the final product, which only took over 2 months to complete (and probably wouldn't have ever been finished if I hadn't had the help of my awesome girlfriend who hung everything up for me!)

It certainly isn't Pinterest perfect, but it works pretty well for us

...at least in theory.

Life Since the Closet and What's Next:"Coming Out" Pt. 4

2014-11-13T11:57:00.000-08:00

Coco Chanel had it right.

I've experienced a lot of beauty in the past three months, more than I ever thought I would in my life.

I've experienced the beauty in others (especially in those who commented or sent me a message on Facebook after I posted the link to my coming out post, as well as the many others who sent me a text or gave me a call after they read that first post.)

I've experienced the beauty of motherhood and how wonderful it is when you are happy and fully present for your children.

I've experienced the beauty of being in love with an amazing person who has stayed right by my side through everything these past few months and provides me with continual support.

I've experienced the beauty in myself as I continue to grow as a person, a whole person, rather than the shell that I once was.

Finally, I've experienced the beauty in understanding what those who have taken this journey before me meant when they said that it would be better once I finally decided to live my life honestly and without

However, that's just the beginning of what has happened since I hit "publish" on that first post while holding my breath, with my heart pounding.

(If you're new and not exactly sure what you've wandered into, you might want to read my previous posts, you can begin with part 1 here and then move on to part 2 and part 3 from there.)

Quite a few other things have happened since coming out as well, some of which were unexpected. One of those unexpected things was that I actually had to, and still do have to, "convince" people of my sexuality. I've heard the following phrase more times than I can count:

"...But, YOU don't look like a Lesbian!"

Mmmkay....First of all, what the hell does a Lesbian look like? I know I'm new to the scene, but I don't recall getting a memo about what I needed to look like when I was born and if it was, in fact, sent out then I'm not the only one that didn't get it because I know a lot of Lesbians that are feminine.We are not unicorns. We do exist. Yes, some women who identify as a Lesbian are more masculine than what we typically see in the general population, and some are, let's face it, really masculine. However, that's doesn't mean we all are. I like makeup, the color pink, girly glittery crap, and I'm a Lesbian. I'm not any less of a Lesbian than anyone who "looks like one" thank you very much. Yes, I realize that some people say it thinking that it's a compliment, but to me and many others it's really more of an insult because it implies that we are not "real" lesbians just because we might not own any flannel.

As far as the other things that have happened as a result of me coming out, I have to say that I've been pleasantly surprised for the most part.

Those who I thought would judge me because of their religious beliefs were actually some of the most accepting people, which was surprising and also a good lesson for me on the importance of not assuming what others think.

Most of my friendships have stayed the same or have improved since I came out and I have made even more friends as a result.

Oh, and while we are one the subject of relationships, I want to address something that I said in an earlier post, which is that my family was less than thrilled when I came out to them. I think I need to clarify what their responses actually were especially because my sister was a wee-bit pissed off after she read that part of my post because it made her feel as though I was calling her homophobic when she isn't. Her reaction was less than ideal mostly because she was concerned about how everything would affect the kids and I can understand that. However, for the record, she's been pretty supportive since then and I really don't think she gives a crap about her sister being a total lez.

My dad's reaction was actually kind of humorous. After I emailed him to tell him that I was gay (because I was too chicken shit to do it in person), his return email said, "What a coincidence, I like women too." and that was it. That's my dad for you. Brief and to the point.

So, the only reason why I said that their reaction was less than ideal is because I wanted them to assure me that they still loved me no matter what and wanted me to be happy. I can admit though, that my expectation was probably too high, not because they don't love me or want me to be happy, but because we, as a family, tend to avoid sharing our feelings.

While their responses were less than ideal, they were still not as bad as what I expected. On the contrary, my brother's was much worse than I expected. It was actually quite devastating and probably the worst response that I've gotten from anyone thus far (and that includes my father-in-law who hated me anyway).

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of thinking that he would be the most accepting and understanding given that he has many friends that are gay and is pretty supportive of the community. It turns out that I was very wrong. He was not at all accepting or understanding. Instead of , "You're still my sister and I love you." It was, "You're a "selfish fucking bitch" (which is actually a direct quote and something that he said several times throughout our conversation). He didn't stop there, though. He said many more really hurtful things, including that he believed that I wasn't really gay and that I just wanted attention.

In summary, he yelled while I cried and then we hung up and I cried some more.

According to him, his reaction was based off of his concern for my husband and children, rather than the fact that I was gay but even if that is the case, a simple "I have some concerns about some things I want to talk to you about later, but for now just know I still love you and you're still my sister." would have sufficed.

While I'm thinking about it, here's a little advice for those of you who will experience a friend or family member coming out to you. Please do me a favor and keep your reaction simple and sweet. The greatest fear that most people have is that they will not be believed or that they will no longer be loved, or both. Please just tell them that you still love them and then, for the love of all things that are holy, WAIT to talk to them about any other concerns you have. Choose your words carefully because they can't be taken back. I will NEVER forget my brother's reaction and the words he said to me and I don't think he will ever comprehend how painful it was for me to hear them. His reaction forever changed our relationship, and not in a positive way.

It pretty much ruined it, actually.

Okie-dokie. Now that I've clarified all of that, we can move on to the other things that have happened since my coming out post.

The first of them is that my marriage is now over. After a couple months of negotiation and many pages of paperwork, I officially filed for divorce on October 29th. It should be final at the end of January as long as things don't change (In Utah, there is a mandatory 90 day waiting period until a decree is granted).

As far as my relationship with my soon to be ex-husband and I, things are pretty up and down. He has a lot of anger towards me that tends to seep out sporadically, sometimes in a pretty vengeful manner. His anger is understandable, but the way he handles it is not always justified. I'm hopeful that this will eventually pass and that we will be able to become friends one day, but until then I'm just trying to roll with things and understand that he's acting the way he is because he's hurt, not because he's an asshole (although sometimes it really feels like he's being quite asshole-ish).

In the end though, I think we can both admit that our marriage wasn't a happy one and that we had many problems aside from me being gay. I think that even though he might not see it now, the fact of the matter is that he was miserable as well. I couldn't make him happy and he couldn't make me happy. We gave it a good try, 15 years to be exact. However, it just wasn't meant to be.

Our current living situation is a little different than most. We have chosen to do what is called, "nesting" for the time being. "Nesting" is a type of custody arrangement where the children stay in the family home and the parents switch off living in the home according to when their scheduled time is to be with the children. In our case, I stay at the home 5 days a week and then stay somewhere else for 2 days a week when it's his turn to be with the kids and vice versa. It's not easy and I don't know how long it will last before we eventually decide it's too much for both of us, but that's how it is for now, at least. I do have to say that I think there are some positive aspects of it. First, it has helped us see how hard it is for the kids to switch off at each parents house so when the time comes we can understand what they are going through a little more. Second, I think it's made things a little easier on the kids and is a good way to make the transition as smooth as possible. Last, we are able to communicate more with each other about our time with them and let the other one know any concerns that we have when we make the switch.

(I have to say that the one thing about our divorce that is nice is that we are in agreement that we need to do everything possible to put the kids first. We've had a few hiccups, of course, but we really are both committed to doing what's best for them, which is part of the reason why we chose the "nesting" arrangement for now.)

Speaking of the kids, I'm loving being a mom more than I think I ever have before. I was a pretty good mom before I came out, but I'm a much better one now. I actually do things with my kids and truly enjoy the time I have with them. Sadly, this hasn't always been the case. In fact, if you told me 6 months ago that I would be taking my kids to public places, let alone crowded public places, I would have laughed in your face. Just the thought of doing something like that gave me severe anxiety, enough that I would usually make up excuse to get out of it, or even just flat out refuse to do whatever required me leaving my house. Luckily, things are very different now. I still get anxious, of course, but it's gotten a lot better. I even went ice skating with Destructo a few weeks ago. Ice skating! That's a HUGE difference, people! Huge!

That brings me to my final update, which is about my relationship with M and how awesome it is. I can't express to you how much that woman means to me and how much I love her. She helped me find courage I didn't know I had and has held my hand every step of the way these last few months. My kids absolutely adore her and I love watching her with them. She's just...well, she's just fucking amaze-balls, is what she is!! I enjoy every minute that we are together and miss her every minute that we aren't. I'm one lucky-ducky for sure.

(Okay, I know what you're probably thinking because I've been asked so many times and the answer is no, we are not u-hauling it (google it if you don't know what it is), or getting married any time soon just because marriage equality happened in Utah. We both know we have a good thing going and don't want to jeopardize that by doing something we aren't ready for. We love each other and that's all that matters for now. )

On a final note, I want to say that I truly cannot believe how much of a difference coming out has made in my life, most of it being positive. Living as my true self has made life much more fun than it was when I was living a lie. Life is just better when you accept yourself as is and stop trying to be someone you aren't. It's not perfect of course, and there are some days when things are actually pretty tough for me, but the difference is that I can handle the tough stuff now, rather than just retreating to my room, which I nicknamed, "the cave" because I was in it so often before. I'm actually living my life now, which is a great place to be in.

It only took about 20 years for me to start (I'm a slow learner).

So that's it! The final post of my coming out story is now finished. If you made it through all of them, congratulations. If they helped you in any way, whether that be in developing a better understanding for what life can be like for those of us who are fabulous enough to be gay or regarding something in your own life, then it makes it that much more worthwhile.

Love those dimples!

P.S. It really did get better.

Why I (FINALLY) Removed The Closet Door:"Coming Out" Pt. 3

2014-09-24T11:05:00.001-07:00

If you've read part 1 and part 2 of this post you are now aware of the fact that I am a Lesbian.

If not, Surprise! I'm a Lesbian!

For Reelz, Y'all.

Anywho...

Now that you know, and have hopefully absorbed it and accepted it, I wanted to explain why I decided to come out this way, on the internet, rather than just come out privately to family and friends.

Before I do that, however, I want to let you know that it was both an easy and a difficult decision. I actually went back and forth about it for quite a while before I began writing that first post more than a month ago.

Originally, I dismissed the idea of posting my story. I didn't really want to make a big deal out of the fact that I chose to finally disclose the fact that I am a Lesbian, because when it comes down to it, it's really not that big of a deal, or it shouldn't be at least.

You see, being a Lesbian is just one part of what makes me, me and I felt as though making it "official" might be sending a message that I didn't really want to send, which is that being Gay is something that I'm confessing to, as if it is wrong or something that should be kept a secret when it most certainly is not wrong, nor should it have to be kept a secret. I wouldn't write a blog post about the fact that I have some weird red freckle on my right boob, so why should I feel it necessary to come out and talk about something else about me that just happens to be a part of my DNA, like my natural hair color, or that weird red freckle?

Then, something happened to me personally that reminded me of why I did need to post my story.

Homophobia

It happened in the waiting room of my gynecologists office when I was sitting with M who I made come with me because I am a big baby and hadn't been to one in about 8 years (Disclaimer: Don't do this! It is very bad to not get your vag checked out on a regular basis!).

Anyway, as M and I sat there and waited for my appointment (which took a really long time because my doctor had to go deliver a baby) I started noticing something peculiar happening. It was something that I may not even have noticed if it hadn't been for the fact that I had been to so many OB appointments with my husband when I was pregnant with my two kids.

We were getting stared at.

A lot.

Not cutesy little stares like the ones I would get when my husband sat in the waiting room with me all those years ago when I was pregnant with Diva and Destructo, whether I was showing or not (you know, the kind where someone looks at the cute couple, breaks out into a little half-smile, probably thinking it's cute that the boyfriend/husband chose to come along?). No, these stares were not like those kind at all. Some were actually the same kinds of stares that I see when people are fascinated by the tigers at the zoo.

Umkay, so some of these people were probably just curious. I get that. It doesn't bother me if someone does a little bit of a double take when they see M and I out in public together, because we are damn good lookin'. How can they not be jealous of our cuteness?

Okay, because of that and also because the truth of the matter is that "we" are not the norm, so I can see how people may notice us more than they would a straight couple. It's not like I never do the same thing. For example, on the rare occasion that I go to Walmart, I often myself staring at the interesting fashion choices made by some of the other shoppers.

Before moving on with the rest of my story, though, I do want to make it clear that we were not making some sort of Lesbian scene out of ourselves by making out, or even holding hands. We were simply leaning into each other while we talked and we only really touched when I momentarily took my feet out of my flip flops and put them on her ankle because they were freakin' freezing and I needed to warm them up (because I'm polite like that). I didn't think it was a big deal. I've seen straight couples do a hell of a lot more than that without a second look from anyone. I guess it was enough to offend a couple of people though, because their particular stares were definitely not curious. Some were even downright rude.

Who would have thought my cute little frozen feet could be so offensive?

Anyway, at one point, an older woman sat down across from us, looked over at both of us, and immediately looked annoyed. I figured she was probably just in a bad mood and didn't think anything of it, but then I noticed the expression on her face had changed into one of disgust. Then, after a few minutes had passed, she stood up, still staring at us, gave a huge pissed off sigh and walked around the corner to another section of the waiting room and sat down there. When we walked by her on our way to the examination room a few minutes later I caught her eye again and she gave us the same look that she had before.

Later, I asked M if she had noticed it and she said she had. I asked her if she thought it was because the woman had realized we were a couple and if that had happened to her before and she told me, pretty nonchalantly, that things like that were a pretty common occurrence. I was not only shocked but I was also pissed. In part because it's one thing to know that hate like that exists towards others, but it's another to actually experience it yourself.

Unfortunately, what happened in the doctors office that day, hasn't been the only time we've experienced homophobia as a couple, either (aside from the fact that we can't even hold hands or hug each other in public without being stared at like we just did a triple back flip off the high dive).

We actually experienced it again when we went up to Sundance resort last month because M somehow convinced me to risk certain death and ride some rickety chairlift to the top of some mountain, which the resort opens up specifically for people to ride every full moon during the summer and fall. It actually ended up being pretty fun (except for the few times I thought I might fall to my death).

Apparently, though, some jerks don't understand that the point of the ride is not to be a dick by yelling out slurs (which I won't even repeat) at people that you don't even know for sure are Gay.

Unfortunately, we happened to end up on the lift right in front of some people who must have missed that memo and they did their best to ruin my perfectly executed anxiety attack as we crept up the mountain. Luckily, we were able to laugh at how ridiculous Douche Lord's homophobia was and didn't let it end up ruining the ride for us.

Later, while M and I were talking about the major douche lord on the chair lift and his douche bag friends who joined in, she told me she has learned to tune things like that out over the years and that it doesn't really bother her most of the time. It was then that I realized that I was going to have to learn to not let experiences like this bother me, which is not something that is easy for me to do, but I am slowly getting better at it (even though it's definitely not right for anyone, regardless of who they are, to have to deal with crap like that).

Now, I'm sure that some of you might be wondering why I would risk experiencing even more homophobia by coming out, especially on the internet where everyone can see this post. Well, I do have an answer and it's quite a simple one. It's actually because I feel like it's a way for me to show others what the consequences are when they decide act out of fear.

Yes, fear.

(Do you hear me, douche lord and friends?).

That might seem weird of me to say, but think about it for a second. We, as individuals and as a society, generally fear what we do not know. Therefore, I personally feel that by coming out and showing those who know me, as well as those who don't, that I'm a real person with real feelings, that it might help some people get over their own fear, which might even end up softening some hearts a little towards me and the LGBTQ community in general. I guess I feel this way because I've experienced it for myself on several occasions when I've gotten to know people, who I prematurely judged before getting to know them.

Okay, moving on to the other reasons why I ended up making the decision that I did:

M

When I first realized that I was definitely a Lesbian, I made one very important promise to myself, and that was that if I ever found myself in a relationship with another woman, I would not hide her, or our relationship. I knew that it would be completely disrespectful and unfair to do that to a person that I loved.

I have to say that I really didn't think this would ever happen in a million years due to the fact that I was determined to stay closeted for my entire life and the fact that I didn't feel that I would ever meet someone who would love and accept me for who I really am.

However, as soon as I realized that I was in love and that I was entering into a relationship, it became clear to me that I needed to begin preparing myself to "come out" and I began to do so little by little. I did so partially because I wanted to be able to share my life with M and keeping our relationship hidden wasn't the way to do that. It would be like forcing her back into the closet, which just isn't right.

Besides she's claustrophobic so she'd probably resist, anyway.

My children

Yes, despite what some might think, I really was thinking of my children when I decided to take the closet door off. This is partially because I knew that I was a complete hypocrite. Not only that, but I was lying to them every single day. As a mother, I am continually teaching them about the importance of being honest and being true to themselves and here I was, doing the complete opposite of that.

I think this was definitely part of the reason why it became so hard to look at myself in the mirror each day and to feel like I was doing a decent job as a mother, as well as part of the reason why I struggled so much with anxiety and depression.

If you’ve ever struggled with depression as a parent, you understand that it can be extremely difficult to give your children what they need from you, especially emotionally, when you are depressed, which does negatively affect your relationship with them despite your best effort to not let it do so.

I knew this was the case with me, but it really hit me when Destructo started telling everyone that all I did was spend time in my room and sleep all day (which was only partially true, but still not right). I realized then that I had to do whatever I could in order to get healthy for my children so that I could be the mom I wanted to be. This meant that I had to somehow find true happiness, which is something that I really didn't believe was possible to do. However, I had to at least try, and the only thing I hadn't tried all of these years was living honestly, so I decided to give that a try and tell my children my secret. I ended up telling Diva first and Destructo a few days later.

It was scary, but they both handled the news really well. To tell you the truth though, I was actually a lot more nervous about how others, including their friends and peers, would handle it.

Quite frankly, it was scary as hell to think that my kids may be treated differently or teased because of my sexuality. In the end though, I realized that being honest with my children was more important. They needed a mom that they could trust and who was fully present for them, and I really wasn’t that mom until the moment I made the decision to come out.

Before I wrote the actual blog post though, I wanted to make sure that it was something that Diva would be okay with, considering half my Facebook friends are other parents and dancers at the dance studio she takes at, meaning that she sees most of them on a regular basis. Outing myself was outing her in a sense and I needed to make sure she understood what that meant and what the repercussions might be for her and our family.

I ended up approaching her the night before I hit "publish" as she was getting ready for bed. We talked about it for quite a while and I explained that I was hesitant about publishing the post because I was still unsure of what the impact would be and how it might affect her. She surprised me a little with her response by saying that it was my decision and she was okay with whatever I decided no matter what came out of it. She also said that she thought it would be a good thing for me to share my story, especially if it helped others and that if anyone had a problem with it, she'd just "tell them to go to hell."

Isn't she just super awesome?

Other LGBTQ individuals

They say that the single important thing an LGBTQ person can do is to come out of the closet. Not only is it considered important for our own health, but it's also important for the sake of other LGBTQ individuals, and the community as a whole.

One of the reasons given for this, is that it is generally thought that the more people who decide to come out of the closet and live openly, the more tolerant society will become because it's much harder for those who know and love us to justify inequality and discrimination once they are aware that someone they love is negatively impacted by it.

It also gives the community more voices, therefore more power, to change and enact legislation to provide protection and equal rights for LGBTQ individuals and families. This is very important to me because, as most of you know, I am a Social Justice nut. It's why I chose to major in Social Work and it's why I'm considering a career in Social Justice related work. I have always been passionate about equality and human rights for others. There have been many times when I felt like a hypocrite for not being open about my sexuality while I was arguing for rights for my fellow LGBTQ friends.

I remember one day as I argued about discrimination with someone, a thought hit me that ended up being yet another reason why I felt that I needed to come out.

What kind of message was I truly sending to others like me by staying closeted?

My answer to that went something like this:

"Hey everyone! I know I am fighting for your rights and defending our community and all, but I'm actually too good to join you in truth, so I'll just sit in my closet and pretend to be someone I'm not even though I'm telling you that you should feel safe living openly."

Convincing, right?

Not really.

What I find to be most important about coming out though, besides the benefits to our health from living honestly as well as making a political statement in support of human rights, is that it gives others who are too afraid to come out of the closet hope and support so that they can one day be ready to do so if they desire.

I believe that if I had known there was someone just like me who could understand what I was going through and who I could talk to when I first realized who I was, that I would have saved myself and my family much heartbreak by finding my courage much earlier.

(I probably would have done a lot less stupid things too, which would have been nice and saved me some of the money that I spent on therapy.)

So, It is because of what I experienced that I really wanted to use this blog to help others see that they are not alone in their journey. I wanted to be able help others out there who are struggling like I did for all those years, because sometimes we just need one person to tell us that we are okay and that we are not alone in all of this (I happen to have a thick skull, so I needed several more than that, I guess). Anyway, I know how deeply painful it is to feel all alone in the world because I felt that way for most of my life. It's not a pretty place to be in and it can create a lot of problems for a person. LGBTQ individuals, especially teenagers, are at a higher risk for self-harm, substance abuse, and suicide.

Suicide.

I just want to let that word sink in for a little bit.

Can you imagine wanting to die simply because you feel as though you are not worth anything or that you are somehow defective because of who you are? That everyone would be better off without having you in their lives? I can, which is why I felt it so important to take the risk of coming out. If I can help just one person by being able to identify with them and give them hope through this blog, then this whole thing is worth it in itself, aside from all of the positive impact that it's had in my life.

While I don't pretend to think that these blog posts actually have the power to end up saving a life or to help someone make the decision to come out just by reading them, I am hopeful that I might have the privilege of being at least one voice out of the many a person might need to help them as they travel along their own path to self-acceptance.

Although I can say that once you begin to get there, it really is a beautiful thing.

{Side note: I want to make it clear that individuals who identify as LGBTQ must be allowed to come out in their own time. It is not fair to ever force one out of the closet. There are many reasons why individuals stay closeted. In my own state, we do not have protection from housing and employment discrimination, which is a huge problem for many of us. I also live in a fairly conservative state, where there is a lot of homophobia present, another reason why someone might want to stay closeted. It is NEVER okay to try to force someone out of the closet, or "out" them to ANYONE without their permission. When I first told my husband 5 years ago that I was a Lesbian, he ended up venting to a friend and "outing" me. When we decided to get back together, it created a lot of awkwardness, which my husband did apologize for. If you know or love someone who is currently in the closet, please respect them and their choice. Instead, give them all of the love and support that you can. Let them know that they are okay and that they are loved. Give them time to find their own courage. Okie Dokie?}

Myself

This is definitely the single most important reason for my decision and, like I said above, I feel that it should be the case for all LGBTQ individuals who make the decision to come out.

It took me over 20 years, from the time I realized that I was a Lesbian as a young teenager until the time I finally came to terms with it and realized that I was sick and tired of pretending to be someone I wasn't and that I really wasn't living my life. I was living someone else's life and that it had made me miserable for far too long.

Every single thing in my life had suffered in some way or another because of my secret.

I had told myself far too many times that superficial crap would make me happy and it never worked.

I had told myself far too many times that if I could "just be better" I would be happy and that hadn't worked either.

The reality finally hit me that I really didn't have much to lose by coming out besides people who wouldn't be able to accept me for who I was, and for the first time I realized that I didn't need those people in my life to make me happy. I had to make myself happy.

So I decided to take the chance.

The chance that I spent so many years refusing to take.

The chance that I never thought I would take.

The chance that would hopefully end in me finding the true happiness that I had never been able to find before.

However, I did not get to this place of happiness alone. There were many voices and events that enabled me to get there.

There were the voices of celebrities like Ellen Page, Portia DeRossi, and, of course, Ellen DeGeneres, as well as others who had shared their personal experiences and how their lives had changed for the better after coming out, the voice and support of my best friend who continually told me that she just wanted me to be happy, the voice of my long-time therapist who helped me explore what good could come out of living my truth, rather than what bad could happen, and the voice of another therapist who once said to me, "You can never experience true happiness when you are not living authentically."

There was one voice in particular, though, that truly helped me find the courage that had been waiting so many years to be found, and that voice belonged to M.

I can't really say why it was her voice that ended up finally getting through to me, but I can at least say that I realized soon after I met M that I actually liked myself whenever I was with her, which was a completely new feeling that I hadn't ever felt before. I wasn't even sure why I felt that way at first, but I eventually came to the conclusion that it was because she was somehow able to make me feel safe for the first time in my life, and in that safety, I was finally able to find me.

The true me.

The me that I had spent so many years looking for.

The me that I had almost given up on.

And once I realized that I finally found this me that had been lost so long ago, I was able to take a deep breath and start writing.

Go here to read part 4!

Weekly Schedule Display

2014-09-21T12:05:00.001-07:00

Believe it or not, I've been working on a couple projects. The first little project is finished and has been for a couple weeks now, I just need to find the time to write the post! It's coming though, I promise!

{"Yeah, yeah...we all know how flaky you are, Jen..."}

Anywho, the second project, a family "command center" is actually still in progress (getting organized sure requires a lot of organization). However, I thought I would give you a peek of the one part that I've actually finished, which is the weekly schedule board. I got the idea from Pinterest of course (along with all the other ideas that I'm stealing for my own command center). I thought it would be the perfect addition considering our schedules can be so crazy, especially with our...ahem...current living situation, which is a little more complicated than others and pretty much deserves its own post.

Anyway, here it is!

I just bought a collage frame, that had 8 individual frames in it for each day. The extra one in the upper left-hand corner is perfect for adding notes about the week's events. I used regular scrapbook paper for the backgrounds to add a little pizzazz. It's easy to change out with the seasons or holidays if you like that sort of thing, which obviously I do considering it's obviously got a bit of Halloween spirit goin' on!

So much cuter than a boring old white dry-erase board, don't you think?

(PS: it's also a great way to keep the kids less confused about which parent has them on what day, which is something we are just getting used to in our house.)

I can't wait to see it up on the wall with the rest of the command center (if I ever get around to finishing it.)

Removing the Closet Door: "Coming Out" Pt. 2

2014-08-13T17:26:00.004-07:00

If I had only known...

In my last post, I shared a big secret that I'd been keeping for approximately 20 years. If you haven't read it, you can go here to do so. It was pretty much the most important post that I've ever written and I still don't fully know the effects of it. Whatever they are though, I'm glad that I finally had the courage to do it.

I'm sure that those of you who read it probably have a lot of questions, especially those of you who are friends and family members of mine. I will attempt to address some of them in this particular post.

First, I want to say that I was born this way. I did not choose to be a Lesbian. I think it's very important that I say this because, eventually, if we repeat it enough, us Gays (and our allies) might get it through some of your straight heads that we are human beings just like everyone else, we can't change our "gayness" any more than a straight person can't change their "straightness". We can hide it, just like you can hide it (which is, of course, what I did for waayyy too long.), but that can make for a pretty difficult life. Mmmkay?

All right. Moving on...

I don't remember much of my early childhood, which I guess isn't very common. I do remember being 8 and realizing that I was different than others, even though I didn't know how I was different than them. I just never quite felt like I fit in. When I was in 5th grade, I remember trying to hold my friend's hand and her getting really embarrassed because, as she put it, "girls weren't supposed to do that anymore" as she let go.

It wasn't until I was 13 or 14 though, that I knew for sure that I was Gay, when a little light bulb went off in my head after I got a crush on one of my female teachers at school. It was around that time that I also realized that I had never really noticed boys in the same way that I noticed girls, and I never really had the same feelings for them that other girls seemed to have. I was pretty ambivalent, actually. The only thing I did know was that I could never, ever tell anyone about what I'd discovered about myself. I saw how much kids made fun of other kids who they just suspected were Gay and I was NOT going to be one of those kids!

It was then that I started my acting career. I played the straight, boy crazy, teenage girl and made sure that everyone "knew" that I liked boys and not girls. In order to "prove" this, I even became a little promiscuous with a couple of them, even though I remember laying there during sex feeling absolutely nothing, aside from some chafing.

I did have one boyfriend in high school, who I didn't sleep with, probably because he was also Gay (He ended up coming out a few months after we broke up). We were still really good friends, though and we even went to our Senior Ball together. The day of the dance, we went to an amusement park with a group of other kids. While we were there, I finally got up the guts to tell him my little secret. I knew of all people he would understand and be there for me.

I remember getting really shaky as I brought it up to him.

I think it went kinda like this:

"Hey, Matt?...Ummm....How did you realize that you liked guys?...Ummm....because....I ....think. Well, I think I might like girls."

He replied with a little smile, while he grabbed my hand and winked at me. "Oh, don't worry! Everybody has a little Gay in them. You're just fine."

(Matt, you and I need to have a serious talk...)

Well, that was a relief! I wasn't a Lesbian after all, I was just like everybody else! Phew!

Only I was. I just didn't want to be. Deep down, I knew this.

I was already so insecure about so many other things. Being Gay was just one more thing about me that was "wrong" and I just couldn't deal with it. I had grown up in a Mormon community where little girls were supposed to grow up, find a man, get married, and have babies and even though I stopped going to church when I was 16, I had spent years in Sunday school being taught that it was the right thing to do.

So that's what I did.

I met a wonderful guy, and as weird as it seems, I did really fall in love with him. He was kind and loving and he treated me well. Nobody else had ever made me feel special like he did. He really was an amazing guy. I don't think I consciously tried to forget who I really was, but I think I let my desire for being "normal", which to me, meant getting married and living happily ever after, take over.

He asked me to marry him when I was still 18. We married when I was 19 and by 20, I was a mom. I became a mom again at 26 with our second child.

Looking back, I realize now that I never had time to really figure out who I was and come to terms with it. I was too busy trying to do everything possible to cover it up, and making sure my life moved forward at 90 miles an hour was my way of doing that.

Every once in a while, I would realize that my attraction to women wasn't just a curiosity, but the thought of giving up a life that I had purposely and carefully manufactured was too terrifying, so I continued to pretend to be someone I wasn't, which ended up causing a lot of pain in my life. However, I would never regret getting married or having my children. Without them, I would have been even more lost. Yes, living a manufactured life was extremely difficult and painful, but it also taught me a lot of lessons along the way and I really do feel that it was the path that I was meant to take.

Anyway, after 15 years of hiding who I was, I finally told my therapist in 2009. We discussed it for almost a year before I finally had the courage to tell my husband. At first my husband and I were optimistic. We read about other couples like us and how they dealt with what's called a "Mixed Orientation Marriage". Some opened up their marriages and just lived together like roommates. Some remained intimate, but the Gay spouse dated outside the marriage. Some stayed monogamous without any changes. We discussed all of these possibilities and also decided to try counseling, but our counselor was not a good one. She was not helpful in any way and we left our sessions more confused than we were when we went in. Not wanting to put our kids through a divorce, and not wanting to cause more pain for either one of us, we chose to stay monogamous. A few months later though, he told me he just couldn't do it anymore, and we decided to separate in early 2011.

The separation was hard on both of us. We had been together for so many years and now we had to learn to be alone. We moved into the same apartment complex, but into different apartments thinking that it would be best for the kids, but it only made things worse by blurring the lines. He didn't seem to be able to know how to give me my own space and independence and I didn't seem to know how to set those boundaries. I think it also made it harder for the kids because they didn't have a routine and they didn't understand why dad could come over and watch movies with mom one night, but that he would eventually have to go home.

While we were separated, my husband didn't date and I only dated one or two people. After several months of both of us being unhappy, we decided during Christmas break, that we would move back in with each other for our children. I guess we figured that if we weren't any happier apart from each other, we may as well be together for our kids. Besides that, we were still really good friends, so why not give it the old college try?

In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest thing to do...

However, moving back in together did mean that I could continue to keep hiding my secret from everyone I knew, with the exception of my best friend and one other friend that I had told. As far as everyone else was concerned, I was "Holly Housewife" and I wanted to keep it that way. There were times when I would think about telling my dad, or my other family members, but I was always able to stop myself just in time. I guess I just wasn't ready.

Things went pretty well for us after we got back together and we generally got long pretty well, too. We thought we were doing so well, in fact, that last year we decided to build a new home for our family because we wanted to give our children the stability that we felt they needed after moving around so much.

Again, that wasn't the smartest thing to do, but we thought it was the right thing to do.

I started having panic attacks shortly after our money became non-refundable. I knew in my heart that I was making a mistake, but my heart ended up being overridden by my desire to give my children a stable, normal, happy childhood, unlike the one that I had. I mistakenly thought that by being my true self, I would be doing a disservice to them. Let me unequivocally state right now that if you are a parent, you are doing a disservice to your children by NOT being your true self. I know that in my case, I had a harder time being the kind of mom they needed because I was too scared to be myself first, and a mom second.

I did tell my husband about half way through construction that I really didn't think I could promise him any type of future. I knew deep down that I was starting to get tired of being someone who I wasn't. In what he now admits was denial, he took my hand and kissed it and said we would be okay. I repeated myself again and still he assured me it would be okay.

But it wasn't okay, obviously.

Shortly before the house was finished, I approached him again and said that I wanted him to think about living in separate bedrooms. We weren't the happily married couple that we were trying to be and I wasn't the straight Susie Homemaker that I was trying to be. It had become extremely difficult to sleep next to him every night, knowing that I could never give the kind of love that he deserved, more so knowing that I could never give him a part of myself that every person should be able to give to the person they love. Often times, I would lay next to him at night, staring at him while he was sleeping, with tears rolling down my cheeks. I would wish and wish that I could be the wife that he deserved, but I knew that there was no fairy godmother out there to grant that wish.

I knew that this role that I was playing, that I had played for so long, was about to end, but I was terrified of what my life would look like without the security of that role. I had grown so comfortable with living my lies that I couldn't even wrap my head around the idea of living my truth. My lies were predictable and safe. My truth was not.

However, the lies were really becoming to difficult to live with. I often slept until 2 or 3 in the afternoon, just so that I didn't have to face the day. I started to avoid my husband because of the pain I felt when I looked at him. I started to withdraw from my family, my friends, and even my children. It was becoming more and more difficult to say why mommy wasn't feeling well today, when mommy didn't feel well yesterday either. Sometimes I would even wish while I was falling asleep at night, that I wouldn't ever have to wake up again. It was starting to get pretty scary in my head and I was starting to feel myself sink even deeper into depression.

Then one day, as I laid in bed counting the hours away, it hit me. I was going to have to make a choice. I could live as the person that I truly am and always was, or I could live as the person who I wanted everyone to think I was. The latter hadn't been working out for me for quite a long time. So, for the first time in my life, I chose to start working on the former.

One night, as we sat watching T.V., I finally told my husband about everything that I was going through and we started talking. We talked all night long. It was a very deep conversation, maybe the deepest we've ever had, and it opened up the gates for some other really deep conversations between the two of us. It was after several of those conversations that we decided the best thing to do was to start sleeping in separate bedrooms, and prepare for separate lives. We realized that we both needed to be happy one day and that it was never going to happen if we continued to pretend like we were something that we weren't.

A lot has happened since then.

My husband and I have continued to sleep in separate bedrooms and we no longer live as a husband and wife. Basically, we are roommates. Our plan is to try to keep this home for our children if it's at all possible and we are in the process of figuring everything out when it comes to that and other things. At this point, we wouldn't be able to sell it anyway because we are bound by our HOA agreement which states that we cannot sell it for a predetermined amount of time. I think this is probably the part that is hardest for people to understand about our situation, but it is working for us. In our minds, we are separated and will eventually be divorced. The fact that we live in the same house doesn't change that for us. We have separate finances and separate social lives, and yes, separate dating lives.

We sat down with Diva a few weeks ago and I told her the truth with my husband sitting next to me for support. I could not have asked for a better response from her. She has been amazing. She told me right away that I was still her mom and she still loved me no matter what, Gay or straight. She has continued to be supportive. I have to say it makes me pretty proud that I've raised such a loving and accepting child. Her support means everything to me.

I also told my dad, brother, and sister the truth,which is something I never thought I would be able to do. Unfortunately, I don't exactly have an adorable YouTube video to show you with everybody cheering and clapping their hands, but I'm hoping they will come around.

I've also told some more of my friends and have found a lot of support there, so far. However, I'm still well aware that not everyone will be supportive and that not everyone will want to remain in my life.

Speaking of dating...

I'm actually in a relationship with an amazing person, who I will call M. She makes me very happy and I hope I make her happy too. My husband has met her and they get along pretty well, even though I know it's not easy for him. My children have also met her and they both like her. Diva and M love to joke around together and are always sending funny little texts to each other. In fact, M is actually one of the reasons why I decided it was time to come out, though she has never pressured me to do so. I love her and I'm proud to have her in my life. That's not something that should be hidden. The one promise I made to myself during all those years that I was too scared to tell people who I was, was that if I ever did meet someone I would never hide them. I just don't feel like it's right to hide the person that you love.

(Okay, maybe if they're really ugly....)

Anywhooo....You might still be wondering why I, not only made the decision to come out, but why I also decided to share such a personal story with you. Lucky for you, I'm planning on explaining all of this in my next post.

For now, I'm just hoping that this particular post helped you understand even more about me and my journey. Maybe it will help some of you out there who are Gay see that there is one more person in the world who knows what it's like to go through what you are going through. Maybe it will help some of you who are straight, but who have friends or relatives who are Gay, understand a little bit more about what it can be like for us prior to the moment that we tell you that we are Gay.

If you'd like to know more about my journey, you can go move on to part 3 in order to find out why I decided to share my story.

Love,

Jen

It's Time to Remove My Closet Door: "Coming Out" Pt.1

2014-08-13T13:13:00.001-07:00

We all have secrets we keep.

Some are pretty small and innocuous, causing no harm and we may even forget we kept them.

Some of them are quite the opposite though, and these are the secrets that often cause the greatest harm to both the secret keeper and to those who the secret is kept from.

Those of us that carry the burden of these types of secrets eventually learn to live with them as a constant companion, along with the guilt and shame that often accompanies them. They weigh heavily on us, but we still do everything we can to try to protect them. For some reason, we feel that the outcome from sharing these deep, dark secrets will be far worse than the pain that we feel from keeping them. The pain, however, is relentless. It never dissipates and it never goes away no matter how hard we try to ignore it. In fact, the opposite happens. It continues to get worse. We suffer and our relationships suffer. However, we still remain silent. Nothing, we tell ourselves, is worth the cost of sharing our secret, so we lie instead.

We lie to our friends. We lie to our family. Most of all, we lie to ourselves.

We become excellent actors and actresses that continually deliver Oscar winning performances every single minute of every single day.

We manufacture incredible facades that even we can become fooled by.

We do everything possible to make our horrible secret go away.

and still, it refuses to leave.

(In fact, it raises the finger at us.)

I happen to know a lot about secrets like the ones that I am describing, because for the last 20 or so years, I've been carrying the burden of hiding my own deep, dark secret and in doing so, I've watched myself lie to everyone I love, terrified that I would be hated by them if I dared tell them the truth. I've watched my relationships suffer because of these lies, I've watched myself become deeply depressed because of my inability to make my secret go away no matter how hard I wished it to and I've also watched myself do some pretty self-destructive things as a result.

My particular secret nearly killed me.

More than once.

However, none of the actions and consequences above were ever enough to get me stop hiding, so instead I stood and cheered for those who proudly stand up for their rights, while staying silent about how those rights pertained to me. I watched others bravely tell their truth, while hiding mine. I taught my children the importance of not being afraid to be who they are, while being terrified of who I am, and I argued passionately for equality and compassion, while refusing to share my reasons for being so passionate.

Why?

Because, of fear.

Fear of what people would think.

Fear of what people would say.

Fear of what people would do.

Fear of what my life would look like if I were to tell people the truth.

I cannot begin to tell you what a toll it takes on someone who lives in a constant state of fear, but I will tell you as someone who has lived in that state for the majority of my life that it's absolutely exhausting and eventually you realize your either going to die in that state, without ever fully enjoying your life or you're going to have to get tired of living that way and then do something about it.

Luckily, I got tired.

I got tired of being scared.

I got tired of lying.

I got tired of being someone I wasn't.

Most of all, I got tired of keeping a secret that nobody should feel like they have to keep.

So after several years of therapy along with the support of the very few people on this entire earth who knew my secret, I finally decided to stop hiding and masquerading as someone else, and to start living my life instead of the one that I manufactured. I decided that I was going to live as the real me. Not the me that I had created.

The real me is a 34 year old, Stay-At-Home mom of two living somewhere in Salt Lake City, Utah. I'm also a college student majoring in Social Work. I live in a cute little house with a picket fence, and drive a 2005 Honda Pilot with 160,000 miles on it. I recycle religiously and feel terribly guilty when I don't. I spend way too many hours driving kids to and from lessons, helping with last minute school projects, and nagging them to brush their teeth. When I have the time, I like to play with my makeup collection or work on various home decor projects. I love cupcakes, Diet Coke, the color pink, and social documentaries. One of my greatest dreams is to see the Eiffel Tower and if I could live anywhere, it would be on a beach, preferably a tropical one. I enjoy quoting lines from several of my favorite movies, including, Wayne's World, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, Empire Records, and Dumb and Dumber. I wear yoga pants just to make people think that I give a crap about physical fitness and my lucky number is 5. I'm also a lesbian.

There you have it.

My secret, the one that I've been carrying around for the majority of my life, is now no longer a secret, and unless you think yoga pants are something that a person should be ashamed of, you probably guessed correctly by assuming that it is the last sentence in the above paragraph, the one that contained just four little words (Well, five if you count "I'm" as "I am"), as that secret.

I'll let you have a minute to let that sink in, in case you need it.

In the meantime, here's a visual aid for those of you who learn better that way.

I guess this means that I'm officially "out" now.

All it took was 20 plus years of hell and the four cupcakes I ate while writing this post.

{I guess that means that, in addition to being a Lesbian, I'm also procrastinator and a stress eater.}

The important thing though, aside from the fact that I obviously need a cupcake intervention, is that the hell that comes with living a false life is finally over. I no longer have to live with the weight of that huge secret on my shoulders. I no longer have to live with the fear of someone figuring it out, and I no longer have to live with it haunting me no matter how hard I tried to ignore that it existed.

I can finally live a real life now, rather than the one that I created out of fear and I can finally live this real life as who I really am, rather than as a character that I created.

I can live. I mean, really live, which is something that I honestly never thought would happen. It certainly wasn't easy. In fact, my journey to this new place is definitely the hardest one that I have ever taken in my life. As a matter of fact, It took years to get here. Years of living in denial and trying to convince myself that I could live as someone who I wasn't. Years of feeling like a hypocrite because I could accept, love, and fight for the rights of others like me, but just couldn't seem to accept, love, and fight for myself.Years of pretending. Years of lying. and years of fear.

But, I finally did it.

I finally got to a place where I could look at my reflection in the mirror and have one less reason to hate myself.

I finally got to a place where I could look another LGBTQ person like me in the eye and not feel the guilt associated with being a coward and a hypocrite.

I finally got to a place where I can handle the loss of family and friends because they are unable to accept me due to the fact that I'm a Lesbian.

I finally got to a place where I can handle being judged, treated differently, and even hated for who I am (even though it still pisses me off).

I finally got to a place where I can say the words, "I'm Gay" out loud so that others can hear it, instead of just whispering them silently to myself, hoping nobody would ever figure my secret out.

I finally got to a place where I can be me.

And that's a good place to be.

I have to say that it's also a much better place than the one where I was all those years ago when I realized that I wasn't like the other girls I knew who would argue over who was cuter on Saved by the Bell, Zach or Slater, while I sat quietly next to them paying far more attention to Kelly Kapowski, but not really understanding why, and it sure as hell is a much better place than the one that I was in for a couple decades after I realized that I was different than those other girls, but refused to move from because I was too scared of what people would think or say.

So, I think I'll stay here in this groovy little place a while and enjoy it, if you don't mind. Actually, I think I'll stay here even if you do mind, so mind or don't mind. That's completely up to you.

In either case, I'm still the same person I was before you read this post. I haven't changed at all during the time that it has taken you to read it. The only thing that's changed is that you now know about a part of me that you didn't know about before you started reading and now that you know about that part of me, you get to choose what to think about me from here on out. I hope that you will still accept me, but even if you don't, I'll be okay.

I'll live.

I've lived through much worse.

Love,

Jen

P.S. - Obviously, there is much more to the journey that I've taken to get to where I am now, and I'm sure that some of you would like to know more about it, what my current situation is, and why I finally decided to come out. I apologize that I didn't include it in this post, but I will be posting more about it all very soon. I promise.

P.P.S. - Sincere apologies to any of you who feel misled because you were expecting a blog post about my real closet door.

(Update: You can read part 2 by going here )

From Dresser to T.V. Console

2014-06-05T16:26:00.006-07:00

Remember back when I posted my very first furniture project. It was a bedroom set makeover, and the catalyst that sent me from buying new matchy-matchy furniture into finding furniture that just needed a little lovin' and "elbow grease" (which is a term that has always sounded gross and unsanitary to me.) to look pretty again.

Anyway, that bedroom set had a good life after I made it over, but eventually I started making changes. The first change had to do with the mirrors, which I made into part of that Christmas wall gallery. After Christmas was over, I decided to transform them back into mirrors and use them for the mirrors on my makeup vanity and they are now living happily ever after on top of the vanity. I sold the nightstands because they were too low for the new mattress set we bought last year. I did keep the armoire for our bedroom TV and have so far left it alone, but as far as the dresser goes, I ended up deciding not to put it in our new bedroom. The space would have been too crowded between it and my vanity, so we moved it to our basement where it sat untouched for several months until I decided it would make a great TV console. Not a super unique idea, but I wanted something to fit our board games, along with space for the miscellaneous crap I hide when it's time to clean up for company, and I had already sold our existing entertainment armoire so we were using a shoe rack from Ikea as a replacement.

After I decided what I wanted to do with it, I got to work (after much procrastinating). Since I like that "eclecta-cottage" look (a term that I should really trademark...), I decided to chalk paint it and distress it, because what's more awesome than making pieces of furniture look like they have been through a war? I chose the same color as my dining table, Sherwin Williams, "Watery"

Here's some before shots, which you probably remember...

before makeover #1

before makeover #2

The first thing I did, of course, was paint it using the chalk paint. After I did that, I used an orbital sander to distress it so that the previous paint color would show through (Actually, I planned to sand the original paint off and then paint the areas I wanted to distress black, so that color would show through when I distressed it, but I was too lazy.) I had never used an electric sander before, but it turned out to be quite fun, so much fun that I got a little carried away on a few areas...

As you can see, I stayed with the original hardware, which I decided to spray paint flat white, to give it the "lighter-fresher" look that I'm going for in the house. Originally, I didn't think to distress the pulls, but I did drop a few of them so they kind of distressed themselves and it ended up working out.

Then, it was time to make a shelf for the electronics to sit on. At first, I wanted to take just the center drawer out, but the DVD player wouldn't quite fit, so I decided to take the other two top drawers out.Then, I took out the little drawer glide thingy's and sat some spare particle board on top so I could put all of the electronics on those. After the shelf was in, the mister used some weird attachment on his drill that looked like a big circle, cookie cutter, thingy to drill the holes in the back for the cords. He was just about finished when our drill started smoking before meeting it's demise, so he had to punch out the rest of the hole by hand.

probably should have had him drill those holes before I painted it to avoid the extra distressing...

I did plan on adding some whitewashing and a little bit of glaze, but I got too impatient so I didn't. I didn't put a protector on it either, which I may, or may not, regret some day. However, I think it works for now and I'm pretty okay with how it turned out (even though I need to fix it so the ugly cords don't piss me off every time I look at them).

So there you have it.

One Post, Two Little Projects.

2014-05-14T17:29:00.000-07:00

While I've been busy with dance competition season (which, thankfully, is almost over), swimming and gymnastics lessons, trying to get us settled into the new house (I'll post a few pictures, soon.),and working on getting all the paperwork ready for my trip to Africa, I've completely forgotten that I also needed to post about a couple of my recent projects! Don't hold your breath because they aren't all that awesome, but they do include dressing up one of Diva's bookshelves, a second redo of the kitchen table that I refinished quite a while ago, re-purposing my old dresser, and making a totally cool headboard (okay, the last two aren't finished yet, but I am hoping to get the dresser done this week and the headboard done before the year is over).

If you follow me on Instagram, you've probably already seen the pictures, but since I know there are people who still aren't on Instagram (cough, cough...my sister), I'll go ahead and post them here to give you all a little break from all of the posting that I will be doing about my journey to Africa.

Project #1 is hardly worth mentioning and I think we've all seen it a million times on Pinterest so I'm not even going to watermark it, but since it technically does qualify as a restyle, I'll post it anyway.

I simply took Diva's boring white bookcase and added a little shelf paper that I got from Target to the back to give it a little something extra. It was very quick and really easy, though I do advise having a credit card with you to smooth out any bubbles and also that you take a deep breath when the pattern doesn't line up perfectly between the two, or more sections you have to use to cover the back.

I didn't take a "before" picture, but I'm sure you can picture the white back that it used to have.

Project #2 was a quick restyle of the kitchen table that I had previously redone clear back in 2012. When I say quick, I mean it. I literally did it in two days, just a few days before we moved into the new house. I didn't really plan on it until I realized that the extra paint I had left over from painting the dresser (which was also painted in the same time frame) would would also look cute on the kitchen table and because I had already decided that I needed to replace two of the chairs, one due to the Tyrannosaurus Rex incident the week that I finished the table the first time and one because I just couldn't find any chairs that would work with it (Surprisingly enough, it's hard to pull off mismatched chairs!), I figured I may as well give the table a new look, too. So I slapped some paint on there, decided it looked pretty good, and kept going. I also put about five coats of polycrylic on it to try to protect it from the ridiculous amount of wear and tear my family puts on furniture.

Here's what it looked like after the first time I redid it:

and here's what it looks like now:

The ladder back chairs were already white, so I didn't need to do anything to them, but the other two chairs are"new" ones that I found via Facebook. They are actually the very chairs that inspired me to go to Africa. They were originally a dark aqua blue, which didn't look quite right with the table, so I decided to paint them white. Only this time, I had a friend of my sisters paint them because I needed them sprayed to match the other ones, and there was no way I was going to spray in my new garage!

For the table, I used the chalk paint recipe that I always use mixed with Sherwin Williams "Watery", which is a great soft blue from their coastal collection and goes with the whole cottage-like atmosphere that I'm trying to create.

It's Been 5 Months and...It Still Hurts.

2014-05-06T19:46:00.001-07:00

Wow! Has it really been that long since I last posted?

{Don't you love how I say this every time I get back from a break, like it's a surprise or something?}

It's been over 5 months now since we all said goodbye to Harley and it still really hurts. In fact, I still cry almost every day and the last few moments I spent with her, as well as the psychotic breakdown I had after she took her last breath, still play over and over in my mind on a loop.

I still forget that dropped food on the floor won't be quickly whisked away by her, that she'll never again open the bathroom door with her nose while I'm in the middle of peeing, jump on the bed to sleep right next to me during a nap,or protectively growl at men that pass me by while I am running.

It's enough to make me crawl into bed and never want to come back out.

However, I do find myself smiling or even laughing out loud when a funny memory of her decides to pay me a visit.

(like the time she got out of the backyard, trotted down the street, wandered into the backyard of a neighbor and then walked through a door that they had left cracked open before making herself right at home by jumping up on the couch in their living room in order to take a quick snooze. Luckily, they were dog people)

I also find myself dreaming about her occasionally and even though it can be hard to wake up and realize that she isn't at the foot of the bed anymore, it's also strangely comforting.

I guess that's what coping looks like, and maybe it's healthy. However, I'm pretty sure that my weird obsession with posting old photos and videos of her and us on Facebook constantly isn't and I'm also pretty sure that some of my Facebook friends are ready to hit "unfriend" if they see one more depressing post about my dead dog.

Mitch and the kids started begging for another dog, pretty soon after she died. Thus far, I've refused their constant requests for one. Most likely due to the fear of going through this pain, that I was completely unprepared for, again. It also feels wrong to "replace" her so soon. I'm certain there's a specific rule on how long you should wait, but I haven't found it yet. I am also worried that I would compare the new dog to her, or not treat it as well as I treated her.

As hard as I try though, I can't deny that a big part of does actually want a dog again and wouldn't be horribly upset if I found one on the porch someday. I just don't really want that "someday" to be tomorrow. I'm not ready yet.

Saying Goodbye to Harley Part 1 of 4 "Something's wrong..."

2013-12-01T01:57:00.002-08:00

I started writing this on Saturday morning November 16th, as a Facebook status update for my friends and family and soon realized it was way too long (Why do we share so much more on Facebook these days than we do in our "real lives"?). Anyway, considering one of the best ways for me to release my feelings is to write, I thought I would get my feelings out here on the blog before I explode in a very non-productive way. I have to warn you, this is definitely not my usual entry, consisting of my adventures in home decor or makeup or even the funny little life stories that I occasionally have to share....It's actually quite the opposite...It's about real-life shitty stuff that happens to us all sometimes. I'm even breaking my own rule that I put in place when I began blogging, which was to leave these type of shitty things out of it.

I like to make people smile, not cry...

...but, today is just not a day that I give a shit, frankly {side note: I swear A LOT when I'm upset}.
There are tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat and I'm literally in physical pain over the shitty news we received last night. Before I start, though, I have to give my little "social work major" disclaimer and let you know that I realize that there are those out there who won't understand, and that's okay. I also understand that even though I feel like this is one of the darkest and worst days I've experienced in my life, I know that there are worse things that happen to people.

However, I'm going to be selfish right now and pretend I'm the center of the universe.

There are only a handful of times in my life where I've literally felt that I've been hit in the stomach with a brick. Unfortunately, yesterday was one of them.

Harley, our German Shepherd, is almost 10 and she's had arthritis for the last few years, along with constant ear infections and allergies. She's never let this stop her until recently, though. Up until a few weeks ago, she still enjoyed escaping through the front door to jump in the car for rides whenever she had a chance to slip through as we were leaving to go somewhere. She still acted like a puppy whenever family and friends came over, always super excited to see anyone who knew her. She especially loved to jump on my dad when he came over, who was never too thrilled because her claws left holes in his shirts (though I think he secretly did love it). For the most part, she loved playing with other dogs and was never aggressive towards other animals. She loved being with her kids, and was known to hop on the couch and hang out with her "dad" when he was watching T.V., but I contend that her favorite thing to do was to jump up onto the bed to curl up next to me. It's no secret that my room and my bed are my haven, so she'd frequently lay next to me and hang out while I did homework, took ~~my regular~~ the occasional nap or watched T.V. and every morning, she'd patiently sit next to Mitch's side of the bed. The second he was out of bed, she was on the bed in his place. When I was sick, or depressed, there she was, right next to me. She'd even skip meals in order to stay right next to me.

A few weeks ago, however, she stopped jumping up on the bed to lay next to me. It was kind of sudden. One morning as she started to jump up, she couldn't seem to get her back legs up with her. She tried so hard and I could tell she was frustrated, but she just wasn't strong enough. I reasoned it was her arthritis and that we just needed to get a refill of her medication, so we took her to the vet, who also prescribed her some Prednisone...which made her a little bat-shit to tell you the truth. While she was on it, she would pace around the house with anxiety, drink gallons of water, which made her need to go out to pee constantly and was a general spaz (even more so than usual). Not knowing that these were normal side-effects, we took her off of it last week and decided we needed to take her back to the vet and see what other options were there.

We could also tell there was something more to her behavior. She was slower than usual and quieter. She stopped running up to the door to meet us when we got home. She just looked sick. She also hadn't been eating much for a while, which happens when she's on antibiotics because she hates the taste when we mix them into her food, but we knew this was something more. We needed to take her to the vet again.

For some reason, though, I kept forgetting to make the appointment (actually, to tell you the truth, I think I sort of knew something more than the usual was up and was avoiding making the call). Not much changed in the next few days, though, until one night when Mitch was petting her and discovered something that felt like a lump on her neck. Alarmed, he had me check to see if I could feel it and unfortunately, I could. However, I reverted back to my old habit of total denial when things get serious and told him it was just fat, while trying not to show that inside I was really worried. I called the next morning and made the appointment for today.

Turns out, that wasn't fast enough. Thursday night, she suddenly started getting worse and I panicked. I knew something was terribly wrong with her and I kept Mitch up until 2 am, crying while I tried to come up with a logical and completely benign answer. The thought of "the end" really hit me and I mean, really hit me and I remember saying to Mitch that I just had a terrible feeling deep in my gut.

I ended up waking up yesterday (Friday) and decided to skip class. She had started to walk funny, kind of like she was drunk. Her breathing, which we had noticed had gotten heavier and more labored in the last few days, was even louder. Her eyes looked different, too. Then, she did something she had never done before. She walked right into the kitchen wall, completely disoriented.

I panicked and called Mitch who tried to calm me down and told me he would see if he could get off of work a couple of hours early. After I got off the phone with him, I decided to give her her favorite treat. Cheese. I broke apart a slice and threw it up in the air, expecting her to catch it like she always does. It hit her nose and rolled off onto the floor where she had to sniff around to find it. Not believing it, I tried it again (okay, probably 5 times). and each time she missed. I can't remember for sure, because it starts to get blurry, but I think my dad called about then only to hear me have a complete break down over the phone. He did his best to attempt to calm me down and it did work a little.

After I got off the phone with him, I decided to let her out to go to the bathroom. She could barely get off the deck, so I left the door open. A couple of minutes later, I checked on her and she was laying on the grass. She looked comfy, so I decided to let her lay there a while.

I wish I hadn't.

About a half hour later, I became concerned. She hadn't barked her "real bark" in a few days, but I hadn't even heard the little, "Mom, time to let me in" bark. I looked out the door into the backyard and she wasn't there.

I called her. She didn't answer.

I listened for the sound of her tags dangling on her collar. I didn't hear them.

Worried, I put my boots on and walked around the corner of the house.

My eyes scanned the side yard. She wasn't there, either.

My heart dropped.

I knew something was wrong.

I still needed to check the other side yard, though, so I started to turn around to do that, hoping she was over there,

As I turned though, I saw something in window well.

It was Harley. Sitting there at the bottom. Quivering. Staring off into space.

She had fallen a good 4 feet, or so. I could tell she was scared, but she wasn't whimpering or trying to get out and she wasn't moving around. She was eerily silent. I screamed and ran back into the house down into the basement, calling Mitch again. I'm not even sure if he understood me at first, but eventually I choked out the words as I ran to get the ramp we had been using to get her in and out of the car. I was sobbing as I carried it downstairs, knowing that I had absolutely no chance of getting her out on my own seeing as how I outweigh her by about 15 pounds (and I'm a self-proclaimed wussy). I opened the window and tried to comfort her. I could tell she was trying to see me, but her eyes were blood red and "vacant". Mitch said he would leave work as soon as he could and we hung up. I called my dad, hoping he was at home, but he was clear across town and it would take him too long. He said to try my neighbors and to try to calm down. He tried to comfort me some more, but I was so panicked, I think I hung up on him.

"Fuck!" I yelled out loud, realizing that the only neighbors I knew had just moved out of the neighborhood and I was pretty sure the husband was working. Everyone else I knew lived too far, or they were at work.

If there were ever a time I wished I was a Mormon, or not a social recluse, it was now...

I turned my attention back to Harley, stroking her cheek and trying to tell her I was going to get her through this. I tried again to get her to walk down the ramp a few more times. Fat fucking chance. She wasn't going anywhere. Sobbing, I just stroked the side of her check, telling her that I wasn't going to leave her and that dad would be home, soon (I hoped).

My sister called me just then. I guess my dad had called her. Luckily, my brother-in-law (a firefighter) was home and came right over to help me lift her out. I must say, he was definitely my rock in that moment and I will never forget how calm he was. Harley was so nervous by the time that he got there that she dug her heels into the gravel, refusing to come through the window for either of us. Instead we had to go to plan B,which was for both of us to jump into the window well and get her out that way. It was nerve wracking, but we were each able to grab an end and lift her out of the well. After we got her inside Aaron stayed with us for a few more minutes. I don't remember what we talked about but I know it helped me calm down a little. I can definitely see why he is so good at his job...As he was leaving, Diva came home and I knew that she was unprepared for what met her.

She was already having a hard time watching Harley the last few months with her arthritis, panicking whenever she seemed in pain and she probably noticed before we did that things weren't going well. The two are soul mates in a way, and I knew this was going to send her into a panic. I wasn't prepared to tell her what we had just been though and for a second, I even contemplated not telling her. However, Destructo, who didn't quite understand the seriousness of the situation couldn't wait to tell her. After he, not so delicately, shared the news, I tried to explain what was going on more calmly, but being 12, she knew exactly what I was saying. The time with her beloved companion was most likely nearing its end and iIt didn't help that Harley (as if on cue) walked smack into the kitchen wall again as I was trying to explain the situation.

It broke my heart to see Diva's reaction to this before she ran from the room in tears. After giving her a couple of minutes, I found her curled up in my bed, sobbing. Shaking. Unable to move. She told me she needed Emily (her best friend) and we called my friend Jenn (Emily's mom). Her voice mail picked up and as I started to leave a message, my voice cracked, so I had to hang up. Jenn called shortly after and Diva grabbed the phone, asking for Jenn to come get her. She didn't want to stay and watch what was going on. It was too painful.

My heart broke for her and it hurt even more that I had nothing to say to make her feel better. She was too old for me to try to minimize the situation.

Mitch got home shortly after that in order to take her to the vet. I made sure to get some quick pictures before they had to leave...just in case

(Later, I was pissed when I realized that I hadn't thought to get any pictures of me with her.):

Destructo decided she needed a blanket at this point. He had been chasing her with blankets for the past few days telling me that she needed them because she wasn't feeling well.

After I was done taking pictures, I helped Mitch put her in the back of the SUV. While I hugged her and kissed her goodbye, I made him promise to bring her home for at least one more night, but I wasn't sure if that was a promise he would be able to keep. That scene where Jennifer Aniston has to say Goodbye to Marley in the movie Marley and Me came to my mind and I vowed for the 20th time to throw that damn movie away.

After they left, I tried to keep myself busy. I wanted to break down. Curl up on my bed. Cry hysterically. However I knew I couldn't do that, yet. Not in front of the kids,anyway. So, I did something else instead. Something that comes naturally to me. I decided to do some research. I wanted to know what type of news we were in for and I was hoping it was something that could be fixed.

As I began my research, Jenn (who is truly an angel that I can never repay) and Emily came and got Diva for me to spend the night over at their house, which helped a little. I knew her best friend of 8 years or so could help her feel at least a little better and possibly get her mind off of what was going on, which seemed to be what she needed. However, my heart also broke because I knew Harley, if she did come home, would go looking for her, confused that "her girl" wasn't home to snuggle with her. I wanted to tell her to stay, to not run away. I didn't want her to regret not being home when Harley came home (and I had made up my mind that she was),

It was difficult to let her go, but I knew I needed to let her make her own decision. I truly think it's better that we, as parents, try not to take control of these types of situations and determine for our children how they should grieve. Everyone grieves in their own way and taking a time out was Diva's way. I was going to give her that respect.

I will never forget Emily's face as I opened the door though. Emily is almost like my own daughter and watching her face was just as heartbreaking. She was so quiet and I could tell she was very upset. Harley was just like one of her dogs and I could tell that Emily, who is one of the biggest animal lovers I know, knew the seriousness of the situation.

After they left, Destructo got onto the computer to play some games and I continued to do my research on my laptop. I wanted it to be some type of kidney infection, something she ate, Diabetes, Canine Addison's Disease...ANYTHING that could be cured or treated...

Instead, fucking cancer kept showing up in my search results.

While I was trying my best to diagnose my dog on my own with a disease far less serious than cancer, Mitch would occasionally text me while they were waiting for the vet. One said she seemed to be moving a bit better while they were waiting for the vet, which gave me a little hope. There were a couple more before I stopped hearing from him. After several minutes, I texted him to see what was going on, but he never answered.

About an hour later, he sent me an eery text that said, "coming home now". I knew right then that the news wasn't good. If it were good news. He would have called. If it were bad news that could be fixed, he would have called. However, even though I knew the news was going to be bad, it didn't prepare me for what happened after he walked in the door with her hobbling right beside him. His face was all red, and his head was hung low. He looked as if he had been hit in the gut. My voice already cracking, I asked him what the vet said and he quietly answered, "It's cancer.", his voice breaking in the middle of the short sentence.

"What does that mean?" I could feel my voice cracking even more and the pitch had gotten higher as I said it. "How does he know?", "What did he actually say?"

(I tend to use accusatory questioning when I hear news that I do not want to hear.)

Mitch explained what had happened. I tried really hard to listen, but I know I blocked some of it out. He told me the vet bent down and felt her lymph nodes in her neck, then under her arm pits, hers spleen and by her hind legs. After doing so, he looked up at Mitch and said, "You have a very sick dog." He explained that it was Lymphoma, but that we would need to take her to an oncologist to confirm the diagnosis. Because they would run their own blood work, it was pointless for him to do the same, but he said he was confident that it was Lymphoma.

He went on further and explained that her sudden blindness and disorientation was being caused by the cancer that was attacking the blood vessels leading to her eyes, which explained the trip down the window well and the greetings she was exchanging with the walls and chairs..or really, anything that got in her way. He told him that it probably happened during the night, that blindness can be really sudden with cancer. Yesterday she could see. Today she couldn't. The cancer was also the reason why her back legs were failing her so suddenly. He explained that symptoms can appear suddenly, which is why when they examined her a month before for her ears, they didn't feel anything unusual.

Then he dropped the final bomb. We were looking at less than a month, 1-3 months with Prednisone which would temporarily shrink the tumors and take away her pain, while giving her more energy and somewhat of a quality of life. He also gave him some special dog food which was supposed to boost her immune system (although, it did nothing but give her the worst diarrhea ever and make her feel miserable). He did say that depending on the stage, we could have as long as 9-12 months with Chemo, however.

After hearing all this, I said matter of factly..."So..he isn't 100%, then?"

"Well, I guess not but he's been her vet since she was a puppy. We know him, Jen and I trust what he said."

"Doesn't matter, he can't completely confirm it, therefore I do not accept his diagnosis, especially considering he didn't run blood work."

I embraced this small nugget of denial. Without blood to confirm the diagnosis, there could definitely be a more reasonable explanation. Maybe, she figured out how to open the freezer and fridge at night while we were sleeping and was just suffering from alcoholism...Maybe, she had finally gotten one of her mortal enemies, the voles living in our rock wall, and had gotten some sort of infection...There were plenty of other logical, less life-threatening explanations, right?

Maybe this was a bad dream. A mistake.

But, as she cuddled up next to me on the floor, letting me stroke the top of her head, I knew I was wrong. Instead of nudging my arm that it was time to scratch her neck, she just stared at me with those glazed over eyes. She still seemed so terrified and I'm sure she was. She couldn't see her people, had had a really scary fall, and obviously felt like shit. My heart ached, knowing she couldn't tell me any of this. I had never wished for the gift of Dr. Doolittle more in my life. All I could do was pet her and hug her, so that's what I did.

I spent the rest of the weekend next to her, not leaving her side and refusing to leave the house. Mitch and I took turns sleeping on the floor next to her at night, helping her outside to go to the bathroom every few hours during the night and trying to keep her from walking into walls. We guided her to her food bowl and held it for her when we needed to. We did the best we could to keep her calm. The kids pitched in as well, making sure to be gentle with her and also giving her lots of pats and hugs.

When we realized she was getting more nervous at the new sleeping arrangements because they messed up her nightly routine of going from bedroom to bedroom to check on her people throughout the night, we decided to go back to the old sleeping arrangements, which helped her feel a little better....even though, I still didn't sleep, worried she would need out, or that she would get hurt...or that she would die and that one of the kids would find her.

I think I was up every hour, either taking her out to the bathroom, or just sitting down to spend a few minutes having a chat with her while I stroked her cheek and forehead. I told her all of the funny stories I remembered about her from the time she was a puppy and how much we all loved her. I thanked her for everything that she had done for our family and I told her how sorry I was that she was sick. I also told her I was sorry for not being the kind of "mom" she deserved, and yes, I also asked her what her opinions were on going to a faith healer....

My sister also came over that weekend to take pictures of us with our beloved puppy. It was an extremely emotional photo session with it being painfully obvious that Harley was so sick, but I wanted to make sure that we had some sort of record of our last few memories with her. We still weren't sure what was going to happen on Monday. I'm so grateful to my sister for doing so. I can never repay her. She took some great pictures even though she had to work with crappy lighting, an uncooperative 7 year old (Destructo), a blind and confused dog, and a lot of crying.

Here are some of my favorites. (I'll post some more pictures of our life with her from the day we brought her home until the end, soon.)

I admit, she looks a little creepy here because of the blindness.

Okay, okay...She looks a little creepy here, too...

I believe this is when I heard my sister yell, "I quit!" from behind the camera and then turned to see her bawling worse than I was!

She was Taegan's best friend Emily's puppy, too.

She was always by my side, even when I was studying.

...and now for the real tear-jerkers....

Diva and Harley had a very special bond from the day that they picked each other when Harley was just 5 weeks old and Diva was 3. I still remember Diva saying in her sweet little voice,"Mommy, I like this one. I'm naming her Harley. Let's go now." and that was that.

Continue to Part 2

Destructo's "Garage" Bedroom REVEAL!!

2013-11-03T17:34:00.003-08:00

I've been meaning to post Destructo's room reveal for quite a while and finally decided that I better go ahead and stop procrastinating and get it done today, so here you go:

The story of Destructo's bedroom makeover.

If you haven't noticed already this house is infected with the color beige, which I consider to be far too boring so, of course, the first thing I had to do in the room transformation was to turn the yucky beige walls into walls that resembled a garage.

I wanted the "garage"walls to have the "look" of cement with some texture to add interest to them, so I picked up two cans of flat paint, one in light gray and one in dark gray, from Sherwin Williams along with glaze which I had tinted with black. Then I went over to Lowes and picked up some venetian plaster and this little spatula thingy:

I thought it would be a pretty easy thing to do, but there were a few little issues that I had to deal with:

Fail #1: After watching a few "how-to" videos on YouTube, I realized that venetian plaster was going to take way too long and decided to take it back. I did not want to re-experience the P.I.A.of Diva's Polka Dot bedroom EVER AGAIN.

Fail #2: Instead of the venetian plaster, I got this great idea (again,from YouTube) to buy tissue paper to create the texture I wanted, which I planned on putting on the walls and then painting over.

However, once again, I realized that there were some issues that I hadn't taken into consideration.

1.The tissue paper was even messier than I thought it would be (which is usually the case, though).
2. The tissue paper kept ripping all over the place and wouldn't stick to the walls in the way I wanted it to.
3. Studly reminded me that we were still renting and that maybe this was not going to be seen as very cool by our landlord, who had given us permission to paint, but not to go all "Jen-Style" with it.

(Yes, I swore like a sailer during this failed attempt.)

So, after two fails, I decided to go with a 3rd option:

I painted the walls with the lighter flat gray paint and then mixed the tinted black glaze with the darker shade of gray. I couldn't remember the ratio the guy at Sherwin Williams told me to use (Okay, I probably wasn't listening too closely when he told me...) so, I just kind of eye-balled it...because I'm super detail-oriented, like that.

When I applied the glaze, I tried a couple of methods in order to get the textured look. First, I used rags, but the glaze dried too fast on them, making it hard to "blend in" with the wall paint. Then, I decided to use plastic bags, because I've learned from previous experience that paint does not dry very fast on plastic bags. This method worked a lot better (and a lot faster) for me and soon the walls began to look like this:

I noticed after I was finally finished with the walls that the white baseboards were a little too stark against them, so I went ahead and painted those black. I wanted to paint the bedroom side of his door and the closet doors,too, but Studly convinced me that I probably shouldn't ( Dang him and his practical mind!).

I also changed out the outlet covers and found this really cool light switch cover (which was entirely too expensive, but I just couldn't resist):

The next part was constructing the garage door that I had pictured in my mind for the last couple of years for his room, which you can read about here.

After I was finally finished with the painting and the garage door had been assembled, it was time to find a new bed for him. His first bed was one of those Little Tykes toddler size car beds, and he was totally heartbroken when he grew out of it, so I decided to see if I could find him a twin size one and thanks to the magical workings of KSL (what most people here use instead of Craigslist). I found one for pretty cheap and we went and picked it up.

After that, it was time to find some storage solutions for his 92 billion toys. I found a toolbox at Lowes that I really liked that could be used as a toy box:

Then, I remembered the lovely sibling rivalry that exists in this family and realized that there was a strong possibility that one of them could end up locking the other one in the "toy box" and nixed the idea.

Instead, I went with the alternative solution of wire garage style shelving and these bins:

Destructo did already have one of those cubical storage units to use for storage as well, but the problem was that it was the maple color and the bins didn't match the new colors of the room, which didn't really work for me. I was going to sell it and get another unit in a different color, but then Diva asked if she could decorate it with duct tape. Being the cool mom that I am, I threw caution to the wind and told her she could. I figured that it was probably going to end up in disaster, but I wanted to give her the opportunity to express her creative side.

I'll admit, I totally underestimated her:

She used silver duct tape for the insides and front edges, black and red stripes on the sides and then did a checkerboard pattern in black and white on the top. I personally think she did a pretty awesome job!

The next piece of furniture to go in the room was the dresser that I had redone, which you can read about in this post:

After the furniture was in place, it was time to accessorize:

First, we had to make sure this included a picture of his own daddy's car:

Then, we used a bunch of tin Mustang signs from his room in one of our other houses, so I used those along with a couple more and a lamp I found at Hobby Lobby and a metal figurine of the running pony, (which if dropped on your toe, really freakin' hurts!):

...and now, for the best part of the blog post: The Before and After shots!

Goodbye, ugly beige!

Hello, Jr. Mustang fan's little piece of heaven (on a budget)!

The shelf on top of the dresser still needs to be hung...

My favorite part of the room is the poster you see above, though. It may seem like an ordinary poster, but it holds a very special meaning for our family. In fact, I'm actually getting pretty teary as I am writing this part of the post.

As you can see, the poster (which I'm sure Studly would like you to know is in commemoration of the 35th anniversary of the Mustang.) has several signatures sprawled all over it. These signatures, are from all of the members of our Mustang club who were part of the club back then.

However, it is one signature in particular that makes this poster so special:

The signature is our friend John's, who was a founding member of our Mustang club and a great friend, who passed away last year due to cancer. He was a genuinely nice guy, who was also a great husband and father and we feel so lucky to have known him. We miss him and his "signature style" of long-sleeve tee shirt and shorts all of the time and hope he's up there doing some wicked burnouts in some tricked out Mustang as we speak (although it's probably more like 12 in his case).

DIY Makeup Palette Organizer

2013-10-19T23:43:00.000-07:00

One thing that I've learned as I've collected eye shadows over the years is that using individual eyeshadow pots sucks. It seems like you are always wasting time looking for the colors you need and If you're like me and seem to have an issue with putting things away after you use them ~~because you are constantly running late~~, they also end up taking over your vanity. About a year ago, I had finally had enough and transferred most of my individual shadows into empty palettes (The kind I have are called Zpalettes) so I could organize them with my other palettes. However, this also seemed to create a problem with organization. Originally, I just piled them into a basket on my vanity. However, because they are all different sizes, I couldn't keep it organized either without forgetting about some of my smaller ones.

I looked into getting some acrylic organizers, but they can be pretty expensive, so I decided to use stationary organizers to organize them. This also ended up being too expensive though, because I was going to have to buy a few of them in order to get all of my palettes organized.

Instead, I decided to troll around the kitchen and bath organization aisles around Target and found this:

It was just a simple lid rack for the kitchen. It had plenty of spaces for my palettes and it was pretty cheap, too. I took it home, spray painted it with some left over Krylon "Pistachio" (I think that was the color.) and put it to work:

Voila!

Not only does it hold a lot of my larger palettes, but it also keeps my favorite ones within reach and my smaller palettes have a little more space in their basket, too.

The only drawback is that I don't get to experience "Christmas Morning" every time I find a long lost shadow or palette anymore, which is kind of a bummer...

FYI: For anyone who wants to know what palettes these are (from front to back): Urban Decay "Smoked", Lorac "Pro Palette", Urban Decay "Naked", Urban Decay "Naked 2", The Balm "Nude'tude", Cargo "Vintage Escape", Urban Decay "Vice 2", and the black and white zebra one is my Zpalette with my MAC shadows.

Destructo's "Garage" Bedroom Pt 2: The Garage Door

2013-09-06T16:39:00.001-07:00

Before I reveal the entire room, I thought I would give the garage door in Destructo's room its own little post in order to explain the process of how we built it a little better, so here we go:

When I finally figured out that I wanted to make Destructo's garage room look like an actual garage, I knew that in order to make it look like a garage, we would need the one essential thing that all garages have...a garage door.

So, off I went down the aisles of Lowe's again in search of the material I was going to use. As I passed through the back aisle, I took a long look at the service garage and realized that I had just passed the perfect "garage door" material. It was the corrugated metal sheets that were in the roofing section:

Of course, I thought I was pretty much a genius for coming up with this totally unique idea all on my own, until I found a few google images and realized I wasn't the only one.

{Why does this always seem to happen to our best ideas?}

Anyway, aside from the corrugated metal, we also purchased the metal tracks alongside it, in order to keep the sharp edges from sticking out on the sides and then wood "spacers" so it didn't sit directly on the wall, leaving huge gaps and not fitting in the tracks correctly.

We needed 3 sheets in order to make the door work on the wall and each sheet needed to be cut down in order to fit on the wall. For this, we used tin snips...and there was only a little blood shed (corrugated metal can slice like a razor blade.)

Assembling the door was pretty easy. First, we drilled the wood spacers onto the wall:

Then it was time to fit the metal sheets over the spacers and drill them into the spacers:

After we finished with that, we attached the tracks onto the walls, which I had spray painted the same color as Destructo's dresser, and ~~crammed~~ fit the edges of the metal into the tracks.

You can get a better idea of how we assembled it at the bottom of the picture:

It was coming together quite nicely.

But, there was one last thing we needed to do to finish it off, and that was to create the "roller" at the top of the door. We ended up using a 5 inch heating duct, which was already the length that we needed, and 6 inch caps for the ends. I wanted to spray paint that red, too but apparently, that would be too unrealistic (said the guy that has worked in a warehouse for almost 20 years...)

...and here's the car, parked safely in its garage!

Destructo's "Garage" Bedroom Pt. 1: The Dresser

2013-09-04T17:26:00.003-07:00

(This is part one, of my three part post on Destructo's bedroom re-do.)

As some of you know, we have been working on Destructo's bedroom for ~~several~~ a few months now and I am pleased to report that it's finally done! We decided on a car themed bedroom, but not just any car, it needed to be a Mustang car bedroom.

Why would we "customize" his room to be solely Mustang territory, instead of just cars in general? Well, If you don't already know, Studly not only loves cars, but he eats, sleeps and dreams them. He especially loves Ford Mustangs. Fortunately for him, Destructo has inherited some of that same love for cars. Thus, this is the 3rd of three car themed bedrooms, and the 2nd of Mustang themed bedrooms. However, I have to say I love this one the most, which is good because it definitely took the most work!

I'd have to say that one of my favorite pieces in the room is his dresser.

Originally, I wanted to get an actual Craftsman Tool chest, like the one that Studly has in the garage:

However, that was definitely NOT in our budget, so I had to get him this dresser, instead:


Sure, I had already removed a knob, but at least I remembered to get a "before" pic, right?

It was an Ikea "Tarva" Dresser for about $80 and didn't exactly say, "Hey, I totally go with a car themed bedroom!", so I had to fix that.

First, I took off the knobs and puttied the holes then sanded, puttied, and sanded some more.

After I got done with that, ~~it sat for a week~~ I got right to work and spray painted it with some primer and then Rustoleum "Apple Red" in a gloss finish.

The next thing I had to tackle was the "handles". At first I was going to use these handles from Lowes:

However, they were pretty expensive and didn't give the dresser a very authentic look, so I had to look for something else that I could use and I finally found it after walking up and down almost every aisle in search for anything that resembled the "handles" you see on the tool chests. I found it in the flooring section. It was a simple aluminum flooring threshold that fit the profile I needed perfectly. It was also just over $1, which made it even better! I picked up three of them and went on my merry way.

The "thresholds" were about 3 feet in length, so we just cut them to the length of the drawers with some wire cutters and then I spray painted them black. We also wrapped a little duct tape around the ends of them being that they were aluminum and the edges were still sharp enough that I was worried about someone cutting themselves on them. Then, we just screwed them on. It was pretty simple and it gave the "look" that I wanted.

I take such great pictures of shadows.

The dresser was starting to come together, but we still had to do a couple more things to make it look as much like a tool chest as possible. Mainly, we needed that "Craftsman" badge that you see on all of their tool chests, which I found one on eBay for about $8.

After we got the badge on, we only had one final thing to do, and that was to saw off the legs of the dresser and replace them with casters, just like we had done on the ottoman.

...and that was it!

It was probably one of the easiest and cheapest projects I have ever done!

"Move your butt, Harley!" (She likes to photo bomb)

Here are a couple more pictures sans dog butt:

I can't wait to show you the rest of the room, including the coolest wall treatment that I have ever done!

From Desk to Vanity

2013-09-03T09:01:00.000-07:00

Hi, remember me?...

Now, why would anyone give me away??

...that ugly desk that Jen bought from the thrift store for $25 when there was still snow on the ground and said she was going to turn it into something beautiful? Well, she finally did and here is the long awaited blog post all about the excitement, the heart ache, the near mental breakdowns and the sweet, sweet joy of finally getting a project finished after several months.

Originally, I planned to still use it as a desk and refinish it for our office, but then I realized that I had a major problem:

...and that wasn't even half of it.

My makeup, skincare, and hair products had taken over my bathroom, and quite frankly it was getting to be a pain in the ass to move everything constantly to clean the sink. Not only that, but I could never find what I needed. I was constantly looking for primer, or foundation, or anything else related to girly primping.

...and I had always wanted a vanity...

I got to work right away (okay, it was a few months after we unloaded it into the garage.)

One of the first things I had to fix was the veneer that had chipped on the top.

I took a stiff putty knife and shoved it under the veneer and started prying pieces off:

It was actually a great stress reliever, but after a few dozen pieces flew up at me, I remembered that I liked seeing out of my eyes and so I got my safety glass and continued to rip up the veneer:

At this point, I realized that I hadn't really thought ahead about what I would replace the top with, but I decided to worry about that another day and began working on the drawers and the fabulous hardware they came with:

After, I had taken off the hardware and puttied the holes, I primed the entire desk with Kilz Oil-based Primer. Then, I used a homemade chalk paint recipe that I had found online and mixed some gray paint left over from Destructo's room and a pink shade of paint that Lowe's had samples of. I ended up deciding to paint the drawers pink and the rest of the body the light gray. After I did that, I took black acrylic paint and swiped it wherever I felt like:

After that was done, I put another coat of the chalk paint over the drawers and desk and then sanded them down a bit. The drawers didn't look quite how I wanted them to, so I put a coat of the gray paint on them, and then painted them again with the pink paint before sanding them down. I also applied just a little of Valspar antiquing glaze in a few spots on the desk. I was going for a shabby chic look, but I didn't want to be too obvious.

I found some adorable knobs at Hobby Lobby that fit my shabby chic theme and had Studly attach them (He is a little more precise then I am at measuring.). I also replaced the feet because the other ones just didn't do it justice...and they were also ugly.

It was definitely starting to look damn good, if I do say so myself (and I do.)

However, with every project there is a snag and mine was the top of the vanity as I still hadn't figured out what to do with it. I didn't want to put new veneer on it, because the online tutorials looked like there would be too many steps to follow and since I couldn't even finish the YouTube video explanations without falling asleep, I passed. I thought about mod podging scrapbook paper onto the top like I had seen on Pinterest, but I couldn't find a pattern that I liked. Then, I thought about fabric instead, but when I cut the fabric, I kind of destroyed it and so that was out, too. For about a week, I stared at the ugly particle board top, out of ideas (that wouldn't be too much work.)

Then, one day Diva started talking about how she learned how to make stuff out of duct tape in one of her classes at school and asked if she could duct tape a nightstand that we had handed down to her. After seeing the results, a light bulb went off in my brain.

"Duct tape!", I told Studly as I opened the shopping bag that night.
"What the hell for?"
"My vanity top, silly! We are going to duct tape it!"

He looked at me like I lost my mind, but he listened to my idea anyway and helped me duct tape away.

It took a roll and a half of white duct tape to finish it off:

My favorite part is that it kind of looks like wood planks, which is an idea that I had earlier, but had scratched thinking about the work required to seal it and how sucky it would be to clean between the planks

(Remember people, I'm all about convenience.)

A mirror was the next step.

Luckily, I already had one that I had recycled twice before:

The first "recycle" was when I painted my very first piece of furniture, which is what started this whole thing.

The second time, was as part of the Christmas display over my mantel last Christmas, when I took the side mirrors off, removed the glass out of each of them and replaced it with chicken wire, Santa, and a Merry Christmas!

Luckily, I had kept the glass...Just in case I needed it again.

This happened to be the "just in case" project. So, after finding all of the parts to the mirror, I put the glass back in the side mirrors and repainted them to match the dresser. However, there was just one minor setback that happened when I was stapling the backs back on:

Whoopsie!

Not to worry, like most of my other projects, disaster seemed to spur creativity in me and I soon came up with an alternate idea for that side mirror.

Instead of a mirror, it became a necklace rack. All I had to do was put some fabric over the cardboard that was supposed to cushion the glass from breaking (a job it obviously did not do) and then I just used spray adhesive (which smells quite flammable) to attach it before placing those handy little command hooks in random spots all over it:

Well, isn't he funny after midnight?

After everything else was done, I took my trusty hot glue gun and added a little something to the edges of my new vanity.

I think I almost passed out when I saw the finished project. Mostly because I couldn't believe it was finally finished!

Anyway, let's get to the before and afters, shall we?

...and a few more pictures, just for fun and giggles:

The vanity stool is from Target. I had wanted it for several months, but didn't want to spend the original price which I believe was around $100 and even the reduced the price to around $60 was too high. So, when I saw it for under $18, I was like, "SOLD!" I think it's perfect, don't you?


This is the only time that you will be able to see this much surface.	.

(It doesn't exactly say Shabby Chic, but 5 Daytime light bulbs definitely helps you see that zit you need to pop.)

(...and when that zit needs special attention, we have a back up.)

Diet Coke: The Decor that goes with anything.

One more before and after shot?
Well, okay...

Well, that's it for now. I've got to go use this thing to make some magic happen for this face, run some errands, and then do my statistics homework (jealous?).

(Oh, and I also have to finish up taking pictures of my other project that I've been working on....Stay tuned.)

Nailed it, again!

2013-08-24T17:08:00.001-07:00

I am just not good with hair. I don't know why, but for some reason it escapes me. I feel like I have mittens on whenever I try to "style" it, so that's pretty much why it's been the same for the last few years.

....But, I have been trying to change that, so I watched a tutorial on YouTube on "Hot Rollers" and decided to try it today since we are going out tonight.

(yes, I always end up experimenting when it's absolutely NOT the right time...)

Here's the result so far:

...and from the front

My thought? "something seriously went wrong here...."

I've decided it's the rollers fault. They must be faulty

Because, I just ~~hope~~ know that I can't be this stupid...

I have approximately 1 hour to fix this.

Starting NOW...

Oh, and if you are wondering why my face looks so pasty, it's because I just put on my foundation so far and I haven't done any contouring or highlighting and I cannot find my Erase Paste anywhere!!

(I really need to finish the vanity before I lose my entire makeup collection because it's so disorganized.)

Nailed it!!

2013-08-15T21:07:00.001-07:00

A Phone Conversation with My Niece

2013-07-04T22:38:00.001-07:00

My six year old niece and I were talking on the phone today.

Me: Did you go to "Tiny Grandma's" today?

("Tiny Grandma" is the nick name we use for my grandma that Diva gave her when she was in preschool because she is about 4 ft 8 inches tall.)

Niece: Yes

Me: What did you talk about?

Niece: Her funeral. She already has it all planned out and told me all about it.

Yes, my 80-something year old grandmother thinks it's completely normal to talk to your 6 year old great granddaughter about how you would like the family to rent you a casket instead of buying one in order to save money on your funeral, as well as other various requests that you have for when you kick the bucket.

(What's even more interesting about this conversation, is that nobody in my family who reads this will be shocked or bothered by it. They'll just nod their heads in acknowledgement.)

Baby Noah's Crib Reveal

2013-06-29T05:15:00.002-07:00

I'm pretty sure I told you all about Baby Noah's crib, but I'll recap (because, I'm up way too late working on the blog and I don't have time to read back through all of my recent posts to see how much I revealed.

Here we go:

My cute next door neighbor, Emily approached me when she was pregnant, having seen some of my projects, and asked me if I would paint her crib for her. I had two thoughts: 1. I was totally flattered and 2. I was instantly terrified. This is because when I paint my own stuff, I don't have to worry about being perfect, but a crib for someone else that people were actually going to see, that's a different story. However, even though I was extremely nervous, I decided to try it. What was the worse that could happen? Uh....I could destroy a perfectly good piece of furniture that she would end up hating (although, I would never know because she suffers from extreme and genuine sweetness and probably wouldn't say anything). But, with encouragement from Studly, my dad, and Emily (who assured me that she would love whatever I did), I started painting baby Noah's crib (Okay, okay...so it was about two months after she delivered it to my house, but I did start on it eventually...)

I thought spray painting it would be best for the look she wanted, but doing that in the dead of winter in Utah is ill-advised, so I used a chalk paint recipe that I got from Jamielyn over at I heart Naptime. I had used it once before, but it didn't work as well as I wanted it to, so I decided to try it again. I played with the mixture a little and it ended up working a lot better this time. I used regular interior paint from Lowe's in satin. The directions did say to use flat paint, but if you have learned anything by reading this blog, it's that directions are for wussy's....(until I screw something up royally.)

I also used 3 coats of Polycrylic in Gloss in order to seal it. I prefer to use Polycrylic because it doesn't yellow like the other poly (which I am not even going to attempt to finish spelling at this hour.)

*If you don't know what chalk paint is, you are missing out because it's awesome! It gives you more of a rustic look that is really easy to distress, which I personally like, being that my style is all "eclecta-cottage" (I really must trademark that.) Anyway, aside from that there is NO sanding or priming required because it is a really thick consistency and dries pretty fast. My hutch was actually a dark walnut color before I painted it white, and I used 2-3 coats (after I used 2-3 coats of another color that I decided against). "Official" chalk paint is known by Annie Sloan, but there are only a couple of stores that sell it in Utah that I know of. However, there are a few recipes that are much cheaper than Annie Sloan, which is hella expensive (although, I still want to try it).*

Anyway, Emily was kind enough to send me a few before pictures from when her second child was born, so you can see the transformation (because,we are all suckers for before and after pics, right?) :

...And here is the work in progress with yours truly playing contortionist...(Sidenote: this was not easy and it wasn't until after I instagrammed the picture that someone commented that they took their crib apart when they painted it, and it was much easier...D'OH!)

The crib was more challenging to paint than I had anticipated because of the bars (Sheesh, those took a while!) and I kept getting little drips here and there which is always the part of furniture painting that is the most "I'm going to throw this paint can through the wall!" frustrating. Some dog hair would also randomly decide to waft in the room and stick to the wet paint, so I did have to sand a few places away and repaint over them.

Obvious Tip: If you have a drip that you don't notice right away, I found that using a butter knife to scrape it off worked really well and made it much easier to fix.

It took me about a week to finish (well, maybe two...okay, probably three once I finally started...) and Destructo had to be temporarily displaced from his room in order for me to paint it (His room has the best light.) but when it was all over I was in love...kinda...Actually, I was really nervous, because even after being really careful and fixing all of the flaws, I was still finding little areas that I thought I should fix, but Emily was so close to having Noah that I knew if I didn't just get it over there and let her be the one to approve it, that he would be sleeping in a dresser drawer until he was 6 months old. I have to be honest though, I totally had that "impending diarrhea feeling" while in the process and even after she took it home. All in all, though, it was a fun and challenging project and I love that Emily loves it, which was SO important to me!

Here are the "after" pics:

I have to say, looking at the pictures, that it is pretty cute and don't you think Baby Noah's bedding is adorable? (Emily made the quilt herself, which I think is totally awesome.)

I am so grateful that Emily trusted me enough to let me do this for her and I really did enjoy the transformation process, even though I sound a little whiny in my post :)

(Oh, and sorry for the quality of the pictures. I had to take them from my iphone and I'm not too good at editing the exposure.)

Until I blog again....

Nasty-Ass Couch Makeover: Cleaning Your Microfiber Furniture (Tutorial)

2013-06-28T22:53:00.001-07:00

One day, I was ~~wasting time that I should have been using to clean my messy house~~ on KSL finding junk to play with and make pretty, while other mommies did normal things like feed and bathe their kids.

That day, I happened to be looking at couches because my current one that was a dark olive green, did not say "cottage" to me and I wanted something more neutral and "lighter". Seeing as how my budget was ~~nonexistent~~ limited, I was totally psyched when I found a couch I liked that was listed for 50 bucks. It was a smaller sectional with a chaise on it, which is what I'd been wanting but ~~seeing as how we no longer have those plastic angels known as credit cards~~ I could not afford to buy new, so of course, like any DIY'er I decided to hit the thrifties! The couch looked a little dirty in the pictures, but not too bad, as in, not nearly as bad as it did when I saw it, even though it was described as having "just a little wear on it". Anyway, even though it was cosmetically "Courtney Love in the 90's", Structurally, it was pretty decent and sturdy. I thought it might make a good upholstery project, even though the only previous experience I had was reupholstering dining chair cushions (We all know, I can be a little delusional). Against any remaining sanity I had left in my brain, I ended up buying the sucker with all sorts of visions of a future Pottery Barn-esque sectional in my living room, down to the $200 throw pillow look-alikes, where everyone who saw it would think it were just as amazing and would also be completely amazed when I said in a snooty little laugh, "Oh, that? Yeah, I upholstered it. It was SOOOO easy!". But, soon after we got it in the basement, reality hit (as in the borrowed library book about reupholstery), so it ended up sitting there for several months, while I occasionally stared at it, wondering what the hell I was thinking.

Before we go any further, let me show you what the gem looked like:

Personally, I believe this qualifies as Nasty-Ass.

(and remember, pictures usually make things look better than they actually are.)

Originally, I had assumed that I would HAVE TO reupholster the couch because there was no way that I was going to get years of nasty grime off those cushions (...and I was quite certain some of the grime resulted from beer pong being played on it, despite a huge framed picture of the Salt Lake Temple hanging on the living room wall of the house where it came from).

However, one day on Pinterest I saw a pin about cleaning a microfiber couch. The method on the pin was the use of rubbing alcohol, but I soon found a few other methods via Google. I decided to try all of these methods on my couch. I mean, it's not like I could have ruined it anymore than it already was.

Disclaimer: Before I get too far into the process that I used, I need to let you know that there are things you need to consider before attempting to clean your microfiber furniture yourself. The first thing is to check the label!!(which I did not do until I had already tried a couple of methods...oops!). Anyway, labels on microfiber contain a code that you can use in order to figure out how to best clean it. There is a W (which my couch was and it means you need to use a type of water based cleaning process), S (which means to use a solvent based cleanser), SW (which means you can use both, and X (which means you should have looked at the code and realized what it was before you bought it, because it's vacuum only and the cheerios your two-year-old just barfed up on it just bought it a ticket to the dump). The labels can be hard to find, but I found mine under one of the cushions (after I had turned the entire couch over thinking it would be on the bottom, of course.)

Now that we have that out of the way, I'll go on: My research on the internet introduced me to 4 primary methods that people use to clean their microfiber furniture. The pin that I found advocated using the rubbing alcohol method. I also used a method calling for dish soap and baking soda (I later found out that the baking soda is really just for odor, not for the dirt and stains, so I didn't even need it and probably should have figured that out before I was vacuuming baking soda off my couch for several hours), another method calling for baby wipes, as well as one that uses that good old Oxyclean. I'll explain below what exactly I used for each method and what the results were:

1. Rubbing alcohol method

(This was the first method I used BEFORE I happened to check the label, which was a "W", meaning that I shouldn't have used this method at all, but luckily there was no harm done, so it's all good.)

The rubbing alcohol method advocates using straight rubbing alcohol and a white or light colored dish sponge so that the color doesn't transfer. I used the "natural" sponges which worked fine.(and I felt more environmentally friendly, too!) I used the spongy side, NOT the rough side (because it might scratch). Afterwards, I used a scrubby brush (I think it was a $2 one for the kitchen dishes) to smooth the microfiber back out. Choose one where the bristles are "softer and fatter". You aren't scrubbing four day old spaghetti sauce off a saucepan, you are merely "grooming" your microfiber...and scratching it, because you chose to use a scrub brush meant for grout, is not grooming it. If you want more details on this method, you can go to Chris and Robin's Nest, which is where the pin was from on Pinterest.

I have to say, a lot of crap came off, as you can see by the pictures below. I also have to say that I was dry-heaving as I was rinsing out the sponges...

While the rubbing alcohol was pretty good, I had way too much ground to cover and too much grime to get off the couch for it to really work well, so I moved on. However, if your couch is more like Chris and Robin's couch, then I think it would work fine, and it definitely kicks ass for spot treatment.

2. Baby wipe method

I did test the baby wipe method because that was another one I had read about and it did work on a surface spot, but not as a whole and even if it did, I probably would have gone through several hundred boxes in order to get the entire couch clean! However, for spot cleaning, I think the baby wipe method would work great.

3. Dish soap Method

This also worked pretty well, and I was prepared to use it again as I figured no matter what I used, it would take a few times before I got all of the grime off. But, when I went downstairs a few days later, there was a little bit of a grayish cast on the couch. Plus, it took FOREVER to dry!

4. Oxyclean

Okay, I have used Oxyclean in the past with okay results. ~~Definitely~~ Probably because I was too impatient to follow directions. However, with the couch, I decided I was going to actually read AND follow them. By doing this, I started seeing results the first time the couch dried and the couch continued to transform every time I cleaned it, which still took 3 or 4 times because it was so stained.

Of course, the easiest and quickest method would have to be the one that I tried very last! I literally just mixed one of those dollar squeezie bottles with what the ratio that the container said to do for upholstery, squirted it on the couch, and then took a dry white cloth and blotted up the nastiness and then rinsed it and watched the water turn black and blacker with each cloth. Definitely appetizing.

A couple of quick tips: 1)Because I had to do several treatments and was far too impatient to wait several days for each treatment to dry fully, I did use a hairdryer to dry the couch faster between cleanings which worked well (You are supposed to use the cool setting, but I used the normal one because it's faster and it was fine.) 2)I did use a spray bottle in the beginning to clean, but decided it was NOT the best thing to use because of the droplets and spray marks that it leaves behind, which can end up staining your couch, a little counter-productive. So, I switched to the squeezie bottle. I also found that it worked best when I saturated an entire cushion versus just the stain, making sure the solution I was using was evenly distributed in order to avoid those same pesky water stains.

Anyway, I ended up using the Oxyclean on the couch itself and the chaise lounge cushion (because it wasn't removable.) However for the cushion covers and the pillow covers, I decided to just take a chance and throw them in the washer with my regular detergent and they turned out awesome! Feeling lucky, I threw them in the dryer, too and it still didn't ruin them!! Although, I do not claim that it is safe for you to do so, so don't come crying to me if you do end up ruining your couch because you used this idiots method for cleaning it.

Here's just one of the pillow covers BEFORE I washed it in the washing machine:

(Admit it, you puked in your mouth a little, didn't you?)

...and here it is AFTER it went through the wash. I was a little worried at how the fabric looked, but once I put the stuffing back in and let it sit for a couple days, it looked as good as new.

So, there you have it! Four methods that I've already tried for you and that you can choose from to clean your nasty couch...Of course, I do claim that my couch was nastier than yours could ever be, which is why I chose the name, "Nasty-Ass" (Although, I do want to offer an apology to those who googled those words, hoping to find a different kind of website).
Anyway, all accidental innuendos aside, I think it ended up looking pretty awesome!!

"Can I be in the picture, mommy?"

I have more pictures, but I think these are graphic enough, even for those who are here accidentally because of Google (and, I'm not in the mood to edit any more pictures at the moment, anyway). I also want to acknowledge that it may look like the cushions are still stained in the pictures, but it really is just the lighting...(and the fact that it's microfiber). Oh, and for my friends out there who can't believe I would buy a couch this dirty and then sit on it, I promise it was disinfected (soaked) with about two cans of Lysol and then cleaned so many times, I would doubt any germ survived on it, and I'll also remind you that the couch you sat on at the furniture store that cost way more than this one, was sat on by many more asses than mine has had on it...some who probably had gas issues, so there!

Update: It's been a couple of months since I finished cleaning the couch and it has held up pretty well. There are a few spots that have shown up on the chaise (which was the most stained because that's where the family of 8 played beer pong on Friday nights), which are probably old stains that have seeped up through the cushion, which happens...or, it may be two children who should NOT be eating in the living room, but considering that wrappers and crumbs magically appear in there, I am suspecting the opposite is occurring.

Why I'm So Glad I Didn't Throw the Ottoman Through the Wall!

2013-02-05T08:09:00.002-08:00

A couple of days ago, I submitted the Restoration Hardware Knock-off Ottoman to one of my favorite blogs, Knock of Decor.

I figured they probably get about 4,362 emails a day, or so from bloggers wanting to submit items, so I thought it would either be a long time to hear back, or that I might not hear back at all. I mean, I love my ottoman (We've come to appreciate each other after all the trauma we went through.), but would Knock Off Decor?

Well, apparently, they did like it! Yesterday, I got an email from Beckie over there letting me know that the ottoman would be featured today and I about did nekkid somersaults across the house! I don't know if I can really explain how excited I am to see it posted over there this morning. I mean, this is a blog that I cruise every day full of awesome creativity from bloggers all over, thinking..."Now, why didn't I think of that?"

So, I'm feeling pretty great in my jammies, with no bra (too much?), and morning hair, right now and I really want to thank Beckie for featuring the ottoman that nearly killed me, as well as my friend Kenz who suggested I submit it after she let me guest post it on her blog. It turns out hard work did pay off in this situation and I think I shall reward myself with a cupcake from Kneaders (a local bakery) in honor of the feature as soon as I drop that slow-poke Diva off at school (Destructo is in Disneyland with Grandpa...I know, right? No fair!).

Then, it's time to work on my next project, Destructo's new bedroom. It's gonna be so sick, or the bomb. or whatever the kids say, these days. I cannot wait to show you how it turns out!

Oh, and if your visiting from over at Knock Off Decor, THANK YOU for dropping by and I hope you'll take a look around and join me here, on Facebook, or those other social networking sites! I love meeting new friends and taking a look at your blogs, too!

Okay, I'm off to put that bra on and brush my hair so I can go check Diva into school, get my cupcake (or two) and then I'll be back later today, or tomorrow to post about that giveaway I promised you!

An Ottoman Inspired by Restoration Hardware

2013-02-02T00:02:00.000-08:00

Well, hello there! I can't believe it's been over a week since my last post! I do have an excuse as I've been feeling a tad worn out and just plain icky for the last week (Currently, my voice sounds like it belongs to a 72 year old smoker from Boca Raton.) but, I'm back today to give you more information about my Restoration Hardware knock off ottoman I posted about over on Interiors by Kenz, yesterday. (By the way, if you haven't checked out Kenz and her blog, you must!! She's totally awesome!).

You've heard a little about the ottoman already, when I explained a slight issue I had when I attempted to do some tufting for the first time (which you'll be happy to know has been resolved...I think so, anyway...). but, now I'll go into more detail regarding the transformation from the "I think I'm southwestern?" ottoman to the new Restoration Hardware-like version.

Here's a little picture comparing the original version to the final version:

You should totally keep reading to hear about my story of how I was able to save the ottoman....and my sanity (well, almost.)

Moving on with the story...

Many of you may already know that reupholstering an ottoman is like a "one" on the DIY easiness scale of 1-10. It really doesn't get much easier than that. Most people can probably do it in an afternoon.

I'm not most people, though...so, it took me a little longer (like a month...and several hundred Diet Cokes.)

If you missed the post regarding the tufting debacle, here is what the ottoman looked like when I got it:

Sexy, isn't it?

As much as I love the pleather look, I wanted something a little more "me" and after recovering my dining room chairs, I figured it was the next step in my journey of re-upholstery that is supposed to end with a reupholstered sectional one day (yeah...I'm that delusional.)

So, I chose a couple yards of fabric that I loved and had gotten super cheap at Home Fabrics. I started by laying the fabric over the foam cushion and started on it by doing the tufting first, which ended up being successful after all (of course, when you read the directions and packaging...things usually do end up turning out better than when you don't).

(I'll be posting a "Jen Style" tutorial regarding the tufting, shortly.)

Remember, it's not pulled tight over the frame, so you can expect wrinkles at this point.

Anywho, after I was done tufting, I began attaching the fabric to the frame, working on the sides first. It was going pretty well and I was all, "This is, like, super duper easy...No worries, here!"

{enter depressing life-time soundtrack here}

...and then I hit the corner and my confidence soon disappeared like a plate of cookies at a PTA meeting.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not make the corners look decent. I tried a bunch of different ways, but they all ended up looking like crap. The main issue was that the frame was 11 inches tall and so you had to actually know how to upholster a corner..and I didn't. Nor did I have the common sense to walk away before getting a tad scissor happy and permanently ruining any chance of decent corners in the future by cutting way too much fabric away.

A small nuclear meltdown occurred soon after I realized the ottoman I pictured in my mind had officially turned into crap. In fact, I barely refrained from doing some major damage to a bedroom wall by turning into the Incredible Hulk and throwing it through one of them.

A couple of days later, I decided to turn to the internet for some inspiration and I fell in love with some great looking ottomans, all of which would work quite well. The problem was that they all required a knowledge of sewing and since I didn't even know what a bobbin was (yes, I'm being serious.) it wasn't an option. I started to wonder if particle board would be good kindling for our fire pit when I saw this on Restoration Hardware's website:

It was love at first sight, not only because I loved the style but also because I knew that I could turn what was left of mine into something similar. The other thing I love about Restoration Hardware furniture is that it is unique. It's definitely a look that's not for everybody, but I seem to have an attraction to that look these days.

After I decided to use the Restoration Hardware as my inspiration, I began deconstructing my current ottoman by taking the existing material off of the top, and then ripping all of the foam off down to the frame. It had been attached with spray adhesive which was remarkably easy to remove without causing too much damage to the foam. (I did save the top foam because it was in fairly decent shape, already had the holes for the tufting...oh, and was free...because foam is ridiculously expensive!)

The first thing I did after taking the foam off the frame was to work on creating the wood planks that made up the base of the Restoration Hardware ottoman. I did this by using cheap fence boards from Lowe's. I made sure they were straight, but other than that I wasn't picky since they were supposed to look rustic, anyway.

(the sides of the frame were approximately 11 inches high and 22 inches in length, so the horizontal pieces were approximately 15 inches in length)

After I cut them to the size I needed and double checked to make sure they fit the frame, I went ahead and took the cushion off in order to start from scratch.

I tested several different combinations of stain and antiquing glaze in order to get that "Restoration Hardware look". My final recipe was a coat of Minwax in "Special Walnut" and then a second coat of Rustoleum "Sunbleached". I added some Valspar Antiquing glaze to darken the corner pieces, just like they were on the inspiration ottoman.

After I was done staining the wood, I attached each piece to the frame with finishing nails. For the corners, I just butted up the edge pieces against each other. I had made one of them about a half inch wider in order to cover the edge of the other one. After, I was done attaching the boards to the frame, I made the wormholes by using a hammer and nail setter in some areas for the bigger ones and then literally just taking finish nails and poking the wood. It was soft enough that it took them pretty well.

Then came the part of adding the burlap and upholstering the cushion. I loved the way the Restoration Hardware ottoman looked, but I wanted something a little more "cottage" looking and so I chose white cotton duck for the cushion and a lighter burlap to go with it. I also bought some cording to wrap the burlap around.

I attached the cording to the frame first using plain old hot glue. They actually sell hot glue specifically for fabric at the craft store and I did try it, but didn't feel that it really made a difference.

After the cording was glued to the frame (for the 3rd time....don't ask...), I laid the burlap over the frame. Originally, I used my staple gun to tuck the burlap under the cording, but it looked really crappy, so ended up pulling the staples out and used thread to sew the burlap to the underside of the cording.

I used steel upholstery tacks that I got from Hobby Lobby to finish up the look. I used a tacking tool in order to set the tacks, before hammering them in and totally recommend it. It has a magnet on the bottom of a bulb-thingy for you to use to set the tack and then you use a mallet or hammer to gently pound it in, rather than trying to hold it with your own fingers, banging them in the process. There is also another tool that can easily take out the tacks when you misplace them, or get a little tack-happy (like I did, and had to rectify it by pulling several out and re-measuring the space between the existing tacks.)

After I was finished with that, I trimmed the burlap to the length I wanted and then applied "anti-fray" to the bottom in order to prevent it from unraveling.

I covered the cushion with the white cotton duck and then tufted it to replicate the look of the cushion on the Restoration hardware ottoman. It was pretty easy because everything was already done for the most part. To attach the fabric to the back of the cushion, I used spray adhesive.

Here's a little bit of detail, you can see where I included the tacks with fabric torn around them on the sides of the ottoman, just like you see on the inspiration piece.

I stripped the existing "feet" of the ottoman with a paint stripper called, Citristrip (which, I totally recommend. It because it doesn't have near the chemicals in it and if you happen to get some on your hands without gloves, they don't dissolve in front of your eyes.). After the Citristrip had dried, I also wiped them down with mineral spirits, let that dry and then stained them just like I did the fence boards. In order to attach the casters to the feet of the ottoman just like the Restoration Hardware one, I drilled through the bottom and attached them on the bottom.

So, there you have it! I'm actually pretty pleased with the way it turned out for the most part and it cost WAY less than the one at Restoration Hardware which has a price tag of $895 (although, it is on sale for $675 right now for those of you who are bargain shoppers).

Just for fun, here's another side-by-side comparison:

I'm hoping all of my hard work paid off....

well....so far...

There's a little additional project that I may be considering to complete the look:

but...I guess we'll just have to wait and see....

Love ya!

Oh, and here's a little break down of my cost in case you are wondering:

(Obviously, I didn't need to worry about the frame or cushion because I already had them, but a sheet of particle board is around $20 and the foam for a cushion is anywhere from $10-30 (which is why I saved the existing cushion.) I already had the antiquing glaze, too (It's about $9 if you need to purchase it.). If you need to buy "feet" they are around $6 a piece for the same style as the ones that I used.)

4 inch wide fence boards (2): $3.00
2 small cans of stain: $10
upholstery tacks: $3
burlap (1 yard): $3
cotton duck fabric (1 yard): $6 (with a 40% off coupon at Hobby Lobby)
tufting button covers: $4 (use the kind with the teeth, if you can find them. I know JoAnn's has them. Hobby Lobby only had the ones with the pushers and those were MUCH harder to use.)
nylon upholstery thread for tufting - $3
upholstery needles: $6
Cording: $2

Grand Total: $40

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