Yeah, I said it.

Wood Sock Sign Tutorial

2014-02-18T01:56:00.001-06:00

Hey y'all. I've been feeling nesty and crafty this week, and I found a few projects to do on Pinterest. Only thing is, I had to look at several wooden sign tutorials to get a thorough overview of the process to do one on my own. So I brought together the tips I gleaned and created my own tutorial. (Hopefully I don't forget anything!)

Here's how I made this sign.

Materials:
-board or boards cut to whatever size you want
-vinyl alphabet stickers (I made mine, but you can buy them on Amazon or at craft stores.)
-ruler
-acrylic craft paint and a bottle of spray paint (I used a satin finish, but matte is great if you can find it)
-paint brushes in various sizes
-paper plate or palette to mix colors (optional)
-nails and a hammer for distressing (optional)
-clothespins
-hot glue and a glue gun
-sawtooth hangers and nails
-sandpaper (a sandpaper block or orbital sander makes life easier!)
-sealer of some sort (I used a matte spray sealer from Walmart)

Step 1: Choose a board for your sign based on the space you plan to put it. You can use any size board you have on hand. Some of the missing sock signs on Pinterest are large squares or rectangles, and some are just single pallet boards. My husband used six small pallet boards for this sign. He cut them to the size I wanted, then attached two boards (vertically) with a staple gun to the four horizontal boards to stabilize them. He then hung a couple sawtooth hangers at the top back.

Step 2: Decide what you want your sign to say and create a layout before painting or applying stickers. For this sign, I used vinyl stickers that I made on my Cricut machine. I had some letters left over from other projects and I made the rest. You can also buy premade alphabet stickers.

Lay your stickers out as you want them to appear on your finished sign. You can get all mathy and measure your board to be precise about placement, but I just eyed the placement of my stickers.

Step 3: Choose your paint colors and get to lettering! My house is decorated in a nature theme, and I chose brown, green, off white and yellow for this sign that I plan to hang in our laundry room. I wanted the words on the sign to be green and off white and the bird to be yellow.

I wanted the top board to say, "Clean, Single". I painted that board green with acrylic craft paint and applied the vinyl stickers after the paint dried. (Acrylic paint doesn't take long to dry if you do thin coats.) The first photo shows my layout after the green paint dried.

This photo shows how the vinyl stickers looked after I placed them on the top board. I decided that the second board would just have "&" and it would be off white, so I painted the area where I planned the symbol to go, let it dry, and stuck the sticker on it.

I painted the rest of the boards green except for the area where I planned the word "Mate" and the vinyl sticker of the bird to go. (*Note: I don't recommend painting the entire sign before the spray paint step. I advise only painting the areas that you plan to put your letters. Either leave the rest of the board/s unpainted, or choose a paint color that contrasts with your chosen spray paint color (light spray paint with dark background acrylic craft paint OR dark spray paint with light background acrylic craft paint.) You'll see why in another step.)

My husband used his Xacto knife set to create a vinyl sticker of a bird, using one of my plastic bird stencils. (Isn't he sweet?) I made the branch with scissors and a strip of scrap vinyl.

Step 4: When all your stickers are in place, it's time to spray paint over the whole thing! (I know! Scary!) Make sure your stickers are firmly pressed down without any lumps or air bubbles so the spray paint doesn't bleed under the stickers. I used an old piece of cardboard to put the sign on in the garage, and I sprayed on two light coats of Rustoleum paint in Espresso with a satin finish (from Walmart). You can also just use newspaper under your sign. Spray paint takes longer to dry than acrylic paint does, so give it some time. It needs to be fully dry before you peel off the stickers.

You guys, I'd never done this before. I was afraid I'd screwed up all that work! But I didn't!!!!

Step 5: After the spray paint is completely dry, peel the vinyl stickers off and reveal the paint underneath. Ta-da!!!! (Totally satisfying.)

Woohoo!!!

Step 6: If you like your sign's intensity as is, skip to Step 7. If you like an "antique" distressed look, grab a sanding block or an orbital sander, some nails and a hammer. Play around with the sander on your sign. Focus more on the edges for an authentically aged look. Sand over the background and your letters. Stop sanding when you like what you see. If you want to distress your sign, lie your nails randomly around the board and hammer their edges here and there. It marks up the board. You don't have to go crazy with it. (But it's free therapy, yo.)

(*Note: See the green showing through the brown where I sanded below? Notice how the sanding looks nicer where the off white is underneath? (Around the "&" and "Mate".) The white paint creates more contrast against the brown spray paint. It looks more authentically aged with that contrast. If I were making another one of these signs, I would leave the background boards unpainted, or if they were stained or dark, I'd dry brush them with a light color acrylic craft paint.)

Step 7: Place your sign back on your cardboard or newspaper and spray two light coats of sealer. This will protect your sign's finish. (For outside signs, you'll want to use something heavy duty, like polyurethane. And you'll want to wait to apply it until all parts of the sign are done.) Let it dry.

Step 8: Paint your clothespins with acrylic craft paint and let dry. Then apply sealer to them as well. Heat up your glue gun and glue clothespins to the bottom of your sign with the grippy part hanging down. Hold in place for 15-20 seconds. (You can measure for precise placement, but again, I just eyed mine.)

I glued the off white clothespins on first. Then decided I needed more.

All done! Now go grab your sock singletons and pin them on.

__________________________________________________

P.S. I think this is my first tutorial, so if I forgot something, let me know!

"The Case of the Missing Tomatoes" - a Tree Guy Narrative

2014-02-01T01:06:00.001-06:00

So fourscore and seven years ago (the last time I posted), I mentioned a pregnancy tantrum story that my husband wrote down in Nature Boy's baby book. Here it go:

The Case of the Missing Tomatoes

By Tree Guy

Early one evening I went to Taco Bell because Danielle wanted a couple Taco Supremes. These were always her favorite because she loves sour cream. I came home with three for me and two for her just like she ordered. I set the bag of tacos on the table and went into the kitchen for drinks.

Next thing I know, Danielle is yelling about how "These aren't Supremes!!! Idiots!!! They can't do anything right!!!!! I....they...AARGHH!!!!!

And off she ran to the bedroom crying all the way.

Well, there I was, standing in the kitchen with two glasses in my hands wondering what just happened. I checked the tacos and found that they had just forgotten the tomatoes. So I added some tomatoes from the fridge and approached the bedroom. After explaining the situation, Danielle simply said, "OK," and came out and ate her tacos.

So there you have it. My shining pregnancy moment with Nature Boy. And he hates tomatoes.

I have no riveting taco picture to add to this post. (Sorry to disappoint.) But I do have a crafty Pinterest-y one.

My husband likes to make his own salsa. It's really, really good. Better than store bought, fo' sho'. He sometimes whips some up for gifts. So it happened that we have 5348953408596356 Mason jars just sitting around. Since I am a lady o' leisure, I spent 534534 hours finding 5456340564064563 things to do with Mason jars on Pinterest. The painted jar above is my first project. It reminds Nature Boy of my grandparents, so I call it a win. Here is the link, in case you like it too. (EASY!) I'm going to do a bigger jar next in antique white to hold the flowers that my husband doesn't bring me nearly enough. (Ahem!) (Not that he reads my blog...)

I also plan to do this project with silver paint and glitter. (Glitter!!!!)

And this one too.

Craft ALL the jars!!!!!!!!

Hi blogosphere. It's me, Pregzilla.

2014-01-22T01:33:00.002-06:00

Happy 2014, y'all! I'm behind the times, I know. Haven't got my bloggin' mojo back, and might not ever. Blame Facebook. There's actual interaction there! It's perfect for attention-whoring.

I'm reporting to you today from about mid-pregnancy. In short, less indigestion, more bitchiness.

Really.

I'm off my mood stabilizer and down to about half the usual dose of my beloved Zoloft. ~~Most~~ some days I see glimmers of the old unmedicated me. It's scary. It makes me think, Maybe I'm not as nice and self-actualized as I like to think I am. Maybe it's all medication!

The crazy's all real though, I assure you.

The good news is, in a few more months, I'll be back among the fully medicated. I am totally believing I'll have another round of Postpartum Euphoria. I had it after having Nature Boy. It was awesome. I was walking through Walmart, whistlin' all the while. Smiling at people in their fuzzy jammie pants. Not turkey necking anyone. Just so happy to be a mom.

Which is in sharp contrast to my typical daily interactions right now.

I posted the following story on Facebook, but I think it deserves a spot here as well.

____________________________________________________

I've had a few cranky days. Ain't gonna lie. I had my first pregnancy-induced food tantrum two days ago. Over pizza. Papa John's to be specific.

I couldn't even eat pizza when I was pregnant with Nature Boy (red sauce!!!!) But with this new one, I want the sauciest pizza I can get.

I spent 30 lovely minutes planning my (frugal online coupon supported) order. Mushrooms. Onions. Extra sauce. Garlic dipping sauce.

I downloaded Papa John's app only to get the pop-up that no store delivers to my address. What? So I called the store and asked the squeaky voiced pubescent boy if they deliver out my way. He said yes. So I tried again with the app. (No pizza for YOU!)

The boy lied. Lied, I say!

45 minutes into my meal planning, I called again and was told by a different Papa John's worker that they only deliver to one block east of my house. And that I couldn't get the awesome online deal if I ordered over the phone for pickup.

I was all, "That's only one more block! I've been trying to order from you guys for 45 minutes! That's it!!! I'm not ordering from you!! Bye!!!"

And I hung up on the poor girl.

Because certainly she has power over Papa John's delivery routes and was purposely withholding pizza from me.

As if that's not bad enough, I then refused to call anywhere else or make any pizza-related decisions for the foreseeable future. I was done!

But I still wanted pizza.

So my husband, who worked all day (his 6th workday in a row) had to take over the rustlin' up of some grub. By then it was almost 7 on a Saturday night and Pizza Hut (who is much more accommodating to us country folk) was on a 75 minute delivery delay.

My guys looked at me fearfully. Could I handle a 75 minute wait? Finally, Nature Boy broke the tension by saying, "Mom, don't hurt me, but you are being really high maintenance! "

My husband busted out laughing, saying, "I totally could not get away with saying that!!!"

To my credit, I didn't frog my son or throw something at my husband. I WAS being high maintenance. So I laughed.

And the pizza, when it finally arrived, was totally worth the wait.

_____________________________________________________

Sadly, this pregnancy food tantrum is not my first. My husband wrote down my previous pregnancy's Pregzilla moment in Nature Boy's baby book. I'll post it here later this week.

When I'm not all up in my hormones, I am actually feeling really grateful. After 10+ years of infertility, I never thought I'd be experiencing this again. It's amazing, really. The creation of new life is always a miracle. But when it happens to someone who has struggled with infertility, it's magnified. Pregnancy is such a normal, everyday occurrence for so many people, it's easy to lose sight of the wonder of it.

I love feeling the baby move. He's kung fu fighting on a daily basis, and I love it. I even love my big ol' belly. Here's my latest belly pic. (Please forgive the less than ladylike pose.)

Mugged Again

2013-11-02T21:02:00.000-05:00

Recently I woke up from 8 weeks of first trimester hibernation feeling decidedly frumpy. I hadn't done my nails in months. I only shaved because I had doctor appointments and I wanted to avoid rumors of Sasquatch sightings in the medical community. And I hadn't had a haircut in 14 weeks. My hair had grown out of its style and was past my shoulders. Tree Guy told me I looked like a hippie. And not the cute kind of hippie.

Like her. Except I pluck my chin hair.

If you've been here awhile, you know all about my haircut issues. About how the secret underground sorority of hairstylists has a vendetta against me. How they've all apparently taken a blood oath to royally screw up my hair every time I dare to place my round rump in their chairs. How they've included Nature Boy in their grudge.

For the past year, Shrinky Dink (my artist/therapist pal) has cut my hair. She isn't actually a hairstylist. Which is probably why she does such a good job. She's not bound by the pact!

Anyhoo, I woke up yesterday thinking, I must get my groove back! I need to see some semblance of myself when I look in the mirror!

But Shrinky Dink's out of town.

So I stupidly went to a chain salon for a haircut last night. And not just any chain salon. The fancy one. Inside Walmart. Yeah. Because hey, it was 8PM and I needed groceries anyway.

You know how you walk into a salon you've never been to before and immediately eye the stylist with the best hair in the place, hoping she'll be the one cutting your hair? And instead you get a 15 year old with a buzz cut?

I should've run when the stylist I got suggested an asymmetrical cut. I let her know then and there that I'm totally OCD about symmetry and if I had an asymmetrical haircut, I'd walk with my head leaning to the longer side because it would just feel that weird.

I told her I wanted an inverted bob that falls right at shoulder length at its longest part. And that's what she gave me.

On one side.

I asked her twice to check for evenness. She did. But when I got home, I realized my hair looked something like this (without the awesome color and styling).

WTF hairstylists?! Is it really that hard to listen to what a client wants and give her that? Most 6-year-olds can cut a straight line!

So I brought my groceries in and busted out the scissors. I spent an hour trimming the hair on my right side to line up more evenly with the left side. It's not easy cutting your own hair when it's curly. WHICH IS WHY CURLY-HAIRED PEOPLE GO TO PROFESSIONALS!

Now you might be thinking to yourself, Danielle, it's your fault for going to a cheap Walmart salon! I'll give you that. But I have to add that I've gone to fancy salons and paid a lot more for shitty haircuts too. It doesn't seem to matter where I go or how much I pay. Hence my vendetta theory.

Since Shrinky Dink is a therapist, she understands OCD neuroses, and she's willing (for the 4334345th time) to fix a hairstylist's mistake when she gets back in town.

Until then, I'll be the one walking with her head slightly tilted to the right.

Not exactly an immaculate conception, but still pretty darn miraculous

2013-10-30T21:08:00.001-05:00

Since all 3 people who read my blog are also my Facebook friends, this will probably not be a surprise to anyone. (Note: I have more than 3 Facebook friends. It's just that the other 100-odd friends don't read my blog. F$%kers.) (Just kidding!) (Kinda.)

Anyhoo. My old ass is PREGNANT, y'all! Knocked up. PG. With child. Bun in the oven. Preggers. Expecting. Harboring a fugitive.

Here's the proof. (I wanted to be really, really sure.)

^^^^I peed on those.^^^^

I am nearing 40, which doesn't exactly put me in line for the Guinness Book of World Records for Oldest Pregnant Chick, but still. How is it possible to have chin hairs AND be gestating? (This person aside.)

I've written before that I've been infertile for a decade, thanks to Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. (Which I can also thank for those chin hairs.) When I was diagnosed, the endocrinologist said, "If you want to have another baby, you are going to require fertility treatments." We didn't want to go down that road for financial reasons, but also because my husband was afraid we'd end up with 5 babies at once. We flirted with adopting, but finally accepted our small family size.

A year ago I started taking Metformin. Not for diabetes, but for hormonal balance so I could have normal "cycles". My primary care doctor told me that I could get pregnant while on Metformin, but I didn't believe her. Ten years of infertility and 4723655 negative pregnancy tests will do that to a person.

But it's true! I'm about 12 weeks along now, and I've seen and heard my baby's heartbeat and had 3 ultrasounds! This fancy, newfangled OB/GYN I see has ultrasound machines in every exam room. Woohoo!

This pregnancy has been different. For one, I haven't thrown up once. But I've been nauseous! And I'm gassy. (Ain't gonna lie.) I've been really, really tired. Even more than a middle-aged mom with autoimmunity can expect.

My guys had different reactions to the news. My husband was like, "It ain't mine." *

*Just kidding. He WAS, however, all, "You're NOT pregnant!" I like to think that his reaction was more about the aforementioned history of 4723655 negative pregnancy tests rather than a reflection of his feelings about being a middle-aged babydaddy. Though his second reaction was, "I am going to be 58 when this child graduates high school..."

Our son was all, "Ahhh! What!? Nuh ugh!!!!" for about 10 minutes. He's been perfectly fine being an only child, so that didn't surprise me.

What did surprise me was that after the initial shock, he was like, "Huh. This might be pretty cool." And he's been such a help to me. Doing dishes. Letting me nap any old time. Bringing me food when I'm too lazy/tired/arthritic to get it myself.

I've found out since that a few of my friends from high school are expecting new babies too. It's great to share this with other ~~old~~ young-at-heart gals. And I have local friends who've just given birth too. So I'm in good company. Next challenge: Finding plus size maternity clothes. (Wish me luck!)

Wanna see a pic of the little one? (Is it weird to share an ultrasound picture on a blog?)

LOOK HOW CUTE!!!!!!

Summer Wrap

2013-08-23T20:53:00.000-05:00

Whew! It's been a busy summer, y'all!

It was all-Godspell-all-the-time for awhile there. Here's a video of my solo. (That's Nature Boy in the polka dots!)

I can't believe it's already Back to School time for the neighborhood kids. Why, back in my day, we didn't start school until after Labor Day.

Long live summer!

That said, I'm totally being a follower and starting our homeschool year now too. Our homeschooling style has shifted a lot over the 7 years we've been doing this. We started out doing unit studies, switched to a 3Rs, Ruth Beechick-y approach, got all hippie and unschooled for a few years, and now we've settled into plain ol' "relaxed homeschooling".

Which I define as: not enough formal school work to look or feel like actual school, but enough formal school work so I don't have panic attacks and go prematurely grey.

Finding your groove in homeschooling is like getting past that annoying period in your 20s when you're all, Who am I? What am I supposed to be doing with my life? It's a relief, really. I'm fairly certain that I spent more time agonizing over learning styles, teaching methods, and what other people might think about our choices than I did actually homeschooling for the first 5 years or so. For real.

Now that that's over (knock on wood), I can confidently say that I am:

Woohoo.

In other news, I'm still fat.

BUT, I've gone to a couple PiYo classes (pilates and yoga combo), and I really enjoyed them. Even though I sweat like a man and I'm too arthritic for a yoga mat, so I use our gel mat from the kitchen. (Yeah, all the young skinny girls wanna be like me!) Usually I work out at home, alone, after everyone else has gone to bed. Not because I'm ashamed or anything. It's just, that's my time to Netflix binge, and exercising without being entertained by TV is just weird.

As we wrap up summertime, I'm going to take a minute to review the highlights.

Ren Faire!

We got a pet mouse. (Read: the snake didn't want him.)

He's actually a really friendly little guy. Hand-tame and everthang.

Berry pickin'!

Ripley's Believe It or Not Odditorium!

Did some more crafty stuff.

Nature Boy grew an awesome garden.

And he started a wire wrapped jewelry business!
If you'd like to buy one of his necklaces, send me an email at yeahisaiditblog{at}gmail.com. You can choose your stone from several options, and the price is $15 shipped.
(The pendants below have already sold.)
We're considering a family Etsy shop, but for now, we're set up to take Paypal.

That's all I got! I hope you've enjoyed your summer. Please leave a comment sharing one of your favorite activities of the summer, or tell me something you're looking forward to this fall.

I Made Deez

2013-06-05T21:48:00.000-05:00

In keeping with my long history of slacker-blogging, the following is a post consisting of a bunch of pictures of stuff I made recently. I was in an artsy mood there for a few weeks. Crafting, combined with 8 (LONG) weeks of practices for the musical, Godspell, has me creativity-challenged right now. Soooo, hopefully you enjoy looking at photos of crap I made!

With the Crapper decorating the wall in our main bathroom, we obviously needed something for the master bath. So I made this.

Then I busted out my new Cricut machine and made this wall art.

The Cricut machine came with some glass etching goo, so I made some etched initial vases with vinyl stencils I made on the Cricut.

Everyone needs some giant 'staches for tooling around town.

Then I was all inspired to paint cartoonized portraits of my family!

Including the dogs!

And Tree Guy (grudgingly) hung them up in a display for me!

Then I made one for my mom.

Then I made some more signs to decorate our walls.

And then I got into doing initial art, a la Pinterest. I used fancy linen samples that Nature Boy rescued from a dumpster for me (woohoo!), regular acrylic paint and plastic stencils.

And now I am exhausted! ;p

P.S. Whatsay I open an Etsy shop? And make custom cartoonized portraits of people and pets? Folks could send me a picture via email, and I could paint a small portrait for them for $15 shipped. Would you buy one? Do you think there'd be a demand for it? What about framed initial art? Custom birthday raps? (Just kidding on that last one.) (Kind of.)

P.S.S. Happy summer, y'all! I can't wait to go swimming. To show off my curves in my skirted granny swimsuit with the big floral print. And a wide-brimmed gardening hat. Hell, yeah!

The Crapper: a Love Story

2013-05-25T16:51:00.002-05:00

So I finally bought a potty sign from my friend Erin at Oh Honestly, Erin. (I know. I've pimped her blog before. But the girl is totally pimp-worthy.) And she also has an Etsy store!

Potty humor is big in our house, so I knew "the Crapper" would fit right in. I wanted him to feel at home with his new family, so as soon as he arrived in the mail, I took him on several excursions.

But first, he had some bonding time with his new dad, Tree Guy.

Crapper in the sky with diamond.

The Crapper with a log.

The Crapper with my dog.

The Crapper with some cake.

The Crapper with a snake.

The Crapper with our Tank.

The Crapper with some drank.

The Crapper with a hat.

The Crapper with the cat.

So there you have it. Adopting the Crapper into our family inspired my own creativity. (Thanks, Erin!) I've been in a painting/stenciling/Mod Podging frenzy since bringing the Crapper home. (A crappy crafting post is coming soon!)

Have a great weekend, y'all!

Dude, Where's My Youth?

2013-04-11T16:56:00.001-05:00

Tonight will be our second practice for Godspell. The first practice was a meet-n-greet and a sing through of the musical score. Godspell has some awesome songs!!! We gone be breakin' it down up in that performing arts center! I like the cast too. Lots of music folks and theater peeps, which makes for interesting conversation. (Kind of like going to gay karaoke. Which I was totally going to do with the fam tomorrow night, but then my gay karaoke-going friend Byn, who invited us, flaked out because she's got to do something boring instead. Something about going to the screening of her daughter's new movie, To the Wonder. Lame.) Just kidding, Byn!!!!!! Here. I'll post a hot picture of you and your husband to show how sorry I am.) (I totally stole this off Facebook.)

Anyhoo, back to Godspell. When you audition for a part, there's usually a form to fill out with all your info. On this form, there's a place to write which part you'd like to audition for. It had been so long since I'd done musical theater, that when I auditioned for Oliver!: The Musical last fall, I filled in that section with "Wherever I fit the best!" Professional, eh? Seriously, I was just grateful to get a role in Oliver. My audition skills were rusty, I was nervous, I'm chubby and arthritic now, so my dancing skills are lacking, etc.

I felt so lucky to get a part with a solo! Relearning all that musical theater stuff was humbling for me. It'd been 20 years! It was Theater Bootcamp. But I loved it. I totally caught the musical theater bug again.

So this time, I chose a more challenging audition song (Feeling Good) and I was more prepared and confident at the audition. I done good, if I do say so myself. (Shameless.)

I even (canyoubelieve) listed the role I wanted on my information sheet. I really, really like the song, Turn Back, O Man, so I wrote that I wanted to audition for the role of Sonia. A saucy, sassy bluesy flirt.

I didn't get the role of Sonia. It went to a saucy, sassy, bluesy, 20-something young lady. I was cast as Peggy, an adulterous earth mother type. Which makes sense, since most of the cast is 20-something, and at one point, Sonia tells Jesus, "Come here Jesus! I got somethin' to show ya!" Our Jesus is a young college student, so a middle aged Sonia hitting on a 20-something Jesus would be totally inappropriate. (Whereas a 20-something Sonia hitting on a 20-something Jesus makes total sense. Am I right?)

I'm not bitter. The casting is excellent for our show. And I am definitely more the earth mother type than the hooker type. Lesson learned: Don't choose a role to audition for just because you like the solo.

You're never too old to learn something new, folks!

I just want to say that I am so proud of Nature Boy. There are 11 principal (main) roles in our show, and he got one! Even though the rest of us are adults. He is that good, y'all! Not sure if we'll be able to video any practices for this show, but if so, I'll post them here.

Love you guys! Thanks for sticking with me.

The Blogging Blahs

2013-04-06T23:02:00.000-05:00

Don't you hate it when bloggers just stop writing and never tell you why and you go through their old posts looking for a possible reason that they stopped writing, but there isn't one, so you think that maybe the blogger died or went off-grid or got stuck in a tornado and is now in Oz?

Me too, people.

I wonder if the Blogging Blahs is an official diagnosis. It should be. As a long-time blog reader, I've seen it happen to many a blogger. One month you're all up in her business, conversatin' in the comments section of her blog, making passive aggressive cartoons about her ex (or maybe that's just me), and looking forward to her next post. The next month she's just gone. Totally leaves you hanging. And you're all, "I bet her asshole ex has her tied up with duct tape in his storage shed. The lack of wifi is the only thing that would keep her from posting!" And you're surprised to discover that you really miss her. Her riffs and rants had become a part of your life. Like a really dysfunctional daily newspaper.

So I won't do that to you.

I have the Blogging Blahs. I admit it. I remain in awe of the awesome, witty bloggers who can do it every day (like my homie Erin at Oh Honestly, Erin). Heck, I'm even in awe of people who can post weekly at this point. I seem to be fresh outta blog inspiration. Or maybe I'm just really tired. Maybe it's because I'm anemic or maybe it's due to my vitamin D deficiency. Crohn's disease affects nutrient absorption, but I don't seem to get the one upside to that (weight loss!). Maybe it's this %&#*ing neverending fibromyalgia/arthritis flare. Maybe it's that I'm really loving my life right now (except for the above-mentioned %&#*ing fibromyalgia/arthritis flare) and I'm more into living it than documenting it. Maybe it's all of that.

I just haven't been feeling very fluent or funny lately. Plus, that %&#*ing fibromyalgia/arthritis flare is affecting my right thumb. So typing hurts. &^%&*%&^!!!!

Tired, cranky me isn't really much fun. So, when you think about it, by not blogging, I'm actually being kind. I'm being a humanitarian. (You're totally welcome.)

I'm not depressed though. I don't want y'all to think that. Despite my health problems, I've been going to parties and inviting friends over and I just painted Nature Boy's bathroom. And I've been baking!

Poo Piles

(I was aiming for the "signature swirl" from that DC Cupcakes show here, but I ended up with Poo Piles.)

After the Poo Pile Debacle of 2013, I broke down and bought a cake decorating set with tips and bags and whatnot. The results were so much better!

Oh yeah, aaaaaand Nature Boy and I just got cast in a local production of Godspell! Woohoo! We both got principal roles, which was a happy surprise for both of us. Don't know if you know much about Godspell, but here's a character list if you're interested. I am playing Peggy and Nature Boy is playing Herb. We'll be practicing for the next 3 months and the show will be in June. We are really excited!

I guess I just want y'all to know that I will be in and out as far as blogging goes. Which is nothing new, really. But I won't disappear from the blogosphere without telling you first.

Inconsistently yours,
Danielle

P.S. Today is my husband's birthday!

Monster Cookie Recipe (For Real)

2013-03-19T22:27:00.001-05:00

Tree Guy's dad is one of 10 kids. His parents were/are masters of cooking for a crowd. Tree Guy remembers going to his grandparents' house in the summer as a kid and getting one of those jumbo ice cream buckets full of Monster Cookies. It's just one of many happy memories he has of his North Dakotan grandparents. I've tried to duplicate some of his grandma's results and failed every time. (Although I have her bread machine now, and I've figured out how to get the loaves just right. Thanks, Grandma!) The recipe below is a definite win. Even for me.

MONSTER COOKIES (Wheat-Free!)
Brought to you by Tree Guy's Norwegian/German grandparents

Ingredients

1/4 lb shortening
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
3 eggs
3/4 lb peanut butter
4 1/2 cups oats
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
chocolate chips, M&Ms, peanuts, shredded coconut, raisins, etc.

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix wet and dry ingredients. Roll into balls and press down onto cookie sheet lined with foil. [Below is a picture showing you what the cookies look like if you press them down as instructed (because you are a rule follower and probably have a whole gold star sticker collection) and if you don't (because you're a rebel and anyway, this recipe is not the boss of you). I recommend pressing them down. They're less crumbly.]

Bake until lightly brown, about 12 minutes.

To make into a cookie "cake", plop cookie dough onto a round pizza pan lined with foil, and press dough down into a circular shape, about a half inch in thickness. Bake until lightly brown, about 14 minutes.

Monster Cookies and Humble Pie

2013-03-19T21:45:00.004-05:00

So, four score and seven years ago I promised you guys the recipe for Monster Cookies. And then I totally failed to deliver. Sorry! I'll post the recipe right after I post this blog post, I swear!

I've been failing to deliver on le olde blog for a while now, and all I can say in my defense is that it's a side effect of my overall shift to less computer time and more real life time. I'm such a slacker that I didn't even participate in the yearly blog meme in January about my word of the year. (Last year it was balance. This year it's present.)

Most of my computer time is spent on Facebook. There's a lot of interaction there. I like having virtual conversations. Maybe even more than I like having real conversations, because I can just step away from the computer when ~~people get on my nerves~~ I have some important work to do. I cherish my Facebook friends. I'm a word girl, but I'm also a bit of an attention whore, so I'm drawn to the instant feedback on Facebook. In summary, I believe that in a Facebook/Blog smackdown, Facebook would totally kick Blog's ass.

And speaking of ass-kicking, my current fibromyalgia flare is kicking mine. It's been going on for 6 ~~years~~ weeks! Enough already! I've got an audition for Godspell in less than two weeks. I can't be walking into the audition room like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

And this is a rock opera (whatever than means). I'm assuming some dancing will be called for. Not that I have any dancing skills to speak of, but my right thumb is affected by the fibro, so I can't even manage jazz hands right now! Nature Boy is auditioning too, by the way. We're all about the opportunity to do a musical together. It doesn't happen very often.

Cripply and all, I still managed to throw my second swap last Sunday. The first swap was about spice cake and swapping clothes and accessories. Nine friends showed up. It was a great time! This time I asked my friends to bring a variety of stuff. Household stuff. Garden stuff. Kid stuff. Books. Since the swap was on St. Paddy's Day, I had Celtic music in the background, green (vanilla) and yellow (lemon) cupcakes, and leprechaun turds (jelly beans). Only one friend got pinched for not wearing green. She pinched me back though, and then flashed me her green undies. The same friends came to this swap as last time (minus two Ren Faire-in-training folks and one Cuban Homeskool Mafia slacker who didn't even RSVP...). I donated all the left over stuff the next day.

Ahh. Friends+cupcakes+decluttering=good times.

Unfortunately, I forgot to take pictures! Again. But here's a poster I made for the old guess-how-many-are-in-this-jar-and-win-a-prize game.

[Editor's Note: I totally misspelled the word "leprechaun". Fock!]

Also, my mom purposely tore down the towel rack in the guest bathroom in a fit of rage because I didn't have her and Nature's Boy's favorite TP on hand (Charmin Sensitive). Tree Guy repaired the wall, but my crazy fibro thumb made fixing the paint in there before the swap a no-go, so I also hung up this poster.

I have a slight hostess rant to inject here. I invited 40-odd people to each of my two swaps via Facebook Events, and the vast majority didn't RSVP. That's annoying, y'all. I don't mind a "no" at all, but for the love of all that is proper and southern, at least respond to the invite! Of course it's possible that these friends don't check their Facebook notifications, and I hear a few gave up Facebook for Lent, but I see my Facebook Event invite experience as a microcosm of society at large. Of the disappearance of social graces in general. (Not really, y'all. Actually, I'm just bitter about people not responding to MY invites. I don't really have a position on other people's invites. :D )

What do you think? Am I right to be planning a large-scale cupcake bombing of the no-RSVPing people's houses? Or is it ridiculous to expect an RSVP to an e-vite in the first place? 21st century problems!

I bet you guys would totally come to a swap party at my house, wouldn't you?!

Whew. And THAT, dear readers, is what the inside of a bipolar mind sounds like. Similar to the ADD mind, but with more--feeling.

Up next, MONSTER COOKIES!

Hey 13. How YOU doin'?

2013-03-06T02:11:00.000-06:00

Nature Boy just got back from a fabulous week-long vacation. What a way to celebrate a milestone birthday! First, he visited my uncle in New Orleans. My uncle lives right on the French Quarter, so they were perfectly positioned for some N'awlins fun.

^^My Uncle Craig^^

Uncle Craig told me New Orleans would be a culture shock to Nature Boy, and I was all, "He'll be fine. He used to take hip hop dance up on the north side of town."

But it totally was a culture shock.

The first thing that happened was a New Orleans looting of his checked baggage. He was pissed! I know this because he texted me in all caps with lots of exclamation points, "THEY STOLE MY STUFF!!!!!!"

Welcome to New Orleans, buddy.

The next thing that happened was that their car was swamped by people wanting day labor. We live in such a homogeneous suburban/rural area that my freaked out son immediately called me and said, "There are a bunch of Mexican guys surrounding our car!!!" Like they were getting car jacked or something.

As it happens, my uncle did, in fact, need a day laborer, so it all worked out.

The next bit of culture shock was all good though. The FOOD, y'all. He loved it all. Except the beet gumbo. But only because it was too spicy. He also loved all of my uncle's tropical plants. I call him Nature Boy for a reason!

^^Uncle Craig's tropical courtyard^^

(An aside: My son excitedly brought home 3 or 4 of these plants. "These are from Costa Rica!" he exclaimed. Only thing is, we are in a different growing zone than New Orleans. Those plants have to be indoor plants here, so Nature Boy brought them inside. A couple days later, I discovered that they had a bunch of slugs on them! Ahhhhh!

See, I'm all about nature from a distance. I have a rule that no pests are allowed in the house. No roaches or mice or ticks or fleas or worms or lice. I will turn into an OCD ninja if I even suspect an invasion. So the plants are now in quarantine in the garage.)

The next couple days of his New Orleans trip were all about sightseeing. They went to the awesome aquarium there, and a fascinatingly multicultural flea market where Nature Boy got yelled at by a Chinese guy for asking for a lower price on a jade carving and told by a Russian woman that he needs a haircut.

Then they checked out a couple voodoo shops. At first I was cool with it. I was all, "Hey, it's part of the culture of the area. He's learning. It's social studies!" But then other people around me were freaking me out by going, "You have to be careful around that stuff. It's real."

^^Place to avoid if you have OCD. Or if your mom does.^^

Then they drove down to Houston to visit my cousin, who is a fishing guide in Galveston. Tree Guy met them there and they all enjoyed a manly few days of fishing.

On the way back, my guys visited Tree Guy's parents and brother, Uncle Jake.

^^Wrestling action shot.^^

^^Tree Guy's mom.^^

Then, my guys were HOME! Woohoo!!!! It was time to get our birthday partyin' on! And that we did.

^^Gettin' Rooty Tooty Fresh 'n' Fruity with it at IHOP with a pal.^^

^^Monster Cookie "Cake" and a fab new 'do, courtesy of Mom.^^

^^Tree Guy chomping on a slice of Monster Cookie. It's his family's recipe.^^

^^LOVE these cute plates from Walmart.^^

Happy birthday, Nature Boy! I love you!
______________________________________________________

P.S. Stay tuned for the Monster Cookie recipe!

A long overdue update

2013-03-03T16:11:00.000-06:00

I haven't been online much lately, y'all. Still dealing with a sucky autoimmune/fibromyalgia flare, so I'm not as YAHOO! as usual. More like, meh.

My super-awesome dog, Raven, has been taking it easy with me. She's still Speedy Gonzales at 11.5 years old, but it seems that her last game of backyard tag with Tank resulted in a torn ACL for her. Poor girl. She was also diagnosed with arthritis in both hips, and with cataracts in both eyes. She'd probably agree with Meemaw's oft-repeated lament: "It's hell to get old."

Our vet recommended that we try 4-6 weeks of restricted movement and rest for her, with omega-3s and joint supplements and a couple weeks of Rimadyl to see if her leg will heal on its own. We're 3 weeks in, and she is showing some improvement. She's a lady o' leisure now, as you can see.

Oh, and Shrinky Dink found my first "official" grey hair. Wasn't it, er, white of her to point it out?

In other--completely unrelated--news, I am now the mother of a TEENAGER!!!!!!!!

How do you feel about that?, you ask. Well, a little bit like this:

TIME GOES BY TOO FAST, PEOPLE! I absolutely can not imagine my kid driving in a few years. And I definitely can't imagine allowing him to ride around in a car driven by one of my friends' hooligan kids! He only has 5 more years of homeschooling until he graduates! And then who will I be? I "tease" my husband that I plan to deal with Empty Nest Syndrome by relying on pets. Bring on the pets!!!!! (He laughs, fearfully.)

I also feel like this:

I'm so happy that my son still hugs me and holds my hand. That he says I understand him. That instead of recoiling from my middle-aged momishness, he just explains to his friends, "My mom is crazy."

Whatever works, kid.

Yeah, but how do you feel about the Terrible Teens!?, you persist.

I'm happily in denial. I figure, since I was a sweet, placid, rule-following teen myself, Nature Boy's teendom will go smoothly.

That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

Stay tuned for a birthday-related bruhaha post coming up!

Back to your regularly scheduled programming: 5 Things I Love

2013-02-01T15:43:00.003-06:00

I don't know about y'all, but I'm in need of some positivity right now. Making the decision to leave my homeschool group after 7 years and answering all of the questions about my reasons has me a bit down.

So, I bring you:

#1. Dogs.

They're sweet, friendly, and loyal. They make me feel safer. I can't imagine not sharing my life with a dog. These two are especially awesome.

#2. Babies.

They're all adorable. Big-headed, big-eyed, sweet-smelling, wrinkly, chubby little gnomes. This one is my all time favorite.

#3. Beady Earrings.

Some women feel incomplete without mascara or lipstick. I've gotta have my earrings. Tree Guy makes almost all of mine! (Isn't that sweet?) He's even tolerant(ish) of my OCD need for symmetry! Here's a sampling of my Tree Guy-made earrings.

#4. Simple Shoes.

These sneakers are a cushiony, adorable, and eco-friendly alternative to Converse. (The soles are made of recycled tires!) And bonus, they are wide enough for my cave girl feet! I love them!

Urgent Update: MAN!!!! I just discovered that this line of shoes has been discontinued! Dang it! Sorry Tree Guy, but I need to stock up now.... (Cha-ching!)

P.S. I love you, honey.

#5. Books.

Who doesn't love books, right? I usually have 3 or 4 going, all left open at random places around the house. I'm currently reading the last book in an awesome fantasy series, The Wheel of Time.

What do you love?

Spanked by the Bible Belt

2013-01-29T18:12:00.000-06:00

This is our 7th year of homeschooling. It's also our 7th year as members of a non-denominational Christian homeschool support group. And by Christian, I mean Protestant. And by Protestant, I mean evangelical.

I've learned a lot as a member of this group. A lot of good things, about homeschooling and parenting and praying for others. Several members of the group were a big support while I was taking care of my grandma.

There is another--not so warm and fuzzy--thing I learned as a result of joining my homeschool group. It is that many evangelical Christians don't consider Catholics to be Christians.

You might be thinking, duh! But it was news to me.

I've lived in 5 states. Attended non-denominational Christian churches as a kid. Went to Baptist church as a teen. Attended college away from home. And have lived in the very buckle of the Bible Belt for 15 years. But I never heard that there are fellow Christians who deny the Christianity of Catholics until I joined this homeschool group.

Worse, my 12 year old son has only had to deal with religious intolerance because we are members of this group. He's never come up against it anywhere else.

So we've decided to leave the group.

I probably should have left the first few times I heard other moms make anti-Catholic comments. They did it craftily though ("but I know YOU'RE a Christian!"), and each time, I assumed they were just ignorant and didn't represent the group as a whole.

But the comments kept coming. Little remarks here and there. Totally different moms. And then Nature Boy's homeschool co-op friends said some things to him. It was increasingly getting on my nerves. Then last month I talked to another Catholic member of the group at a party. I found out she had experienced the same thing I had, and that she and two other Catholic members had already left the homeschool group for that reason.

My eyes were opened.

I have always considered my group to be the best one in town, certainly the best Christian homeschool group. I didn't want to leave the group in an angry huff, so I asked a long-time friend and leader in the group for her perspective.

I was shocked to discover that she felt the same way the other moms did.

I'm grateful that she was honest with me, because now I know why I never fit in. Why I always felt like an outsider in the group. Part of it is just that I am more liberal than most of the group members are--but another part of it is that this is a Christian-only group, and several members don't believe Catholics are Christians.

Making the decision to leave the group was a process. I was pissed at first. Especially on my son's behalf. I worked through that anger, forgave the haters, and moved on.

Now I feel a peace about it. It's the right decision.

There are some Christians who seem to have judgment and prejudice as religious doctrines. As if castigating others somehow makes themselves more holy. I choose not to hang out with people like that. It's the opposite of my experience of Christianity. And if I, a Catholic Christian, feel that way, imagine how non-Christians are experiencing these people's attempts to show them Jesus.

As Tobuscus says, "Fail!"

The Reluctant Unschooler

2013-01-26T17:12:00.000-06:00

This is a post I wrote about a year ago for Christian Unschooling. I didn't publish it to my own blog at that time. I'm doing so now--with an update in the next two paragraphs.

Our homeschool is always changing. My education philosophy can be reduced to two words: whatever works. I believe that's different for every child and every family. I'm learning that it's also different for an individual child and an individual family over time. Our homeschool looks different now than it did a year ago when I wrote the post below. We're still unschooly, in that there's a lot of flexibility and freedom (and fun!) built into our homeschool. But we're not purists. We just do whatever works for whatever we're working on at that particular time. We discuss our options. Try a few things. Discard a few things that don't work. And basically muddle our way through until something clicks. (Or until we give up in frustration and go to the zoo instead...)

I love our life. But it has its anxieties. I'm forever freaking out about math, Nature Boy's nemesis. I worry that some family members think that my son's struggles with writing and math are caused by homeschooling. That if I were a real teacher, he wouldn't still be struggling. In my heart I know that learning disabilities are real. Being at school wouldn't magically solve the challenges that come with them. But I'm also aware that I don't know everything. (Just most things...) And that's where tutors come in! We had great results with a spelling tutor last year and currently, with a math tutor. He's awesome! He's an engineer, but in a very unengineery way, he is able to get all creative with introducing mathematical concepts. He gets how my son learns. It's not formulaic or traditional (duh!), but conceptual and real worldy. (The technical term.) He is excited to work with Nature Boy because we don't follow a traditional curriculum for math. He's not limited to only offering homework help or to one certain way to do math problems, according to what a teacher wants. I think they are both learning from each other.

And now for the original post.

______________________________________________________________

We didn't intend to homeschool.

Our son attended pre-k and kindergarten in public school. I had the typical my baby's going to school all day pangs, but that was the norm, so I dealt with it. Pre-k was fairly smooth, but things started getting bumpy in kindergarten.

One day my little guy came home from school and said, “Mom, would you please homeschool me? School is chaos!” Tears became part of our bedtime routine, crowding out our stories and prayers. I was at a loss. I'd loved school as a child. I couldn't understand what was causing our son so much anxiety.

I started researching homeschooling and began husband negotiations. (He took a little convincing at first.) We agreed to try homeschooling for first grade and then reevaluate. We've never looked back.

Our early homeschooling style was influenced by some of Ruth Beechick's writings. I really liked her simple approach: a relaxed focus on the 3Rs with lots of free time and read-alouds. I followed her guidelines for 1st-3^rdgrade (except for the copy work, as my son has dysgraphia). During this time, I noticed how naturally learning was occurring in other areas.

I also noticed that as time went on, my boy wasn't enjoying learning as much. The more we relied on structured curriculum and worksheets, the more frustrated and learning-averse he became. Once again I was confused. The textbook/workbook method of learning worked for me in school, so why wasn't it working for him? (Apparently I considered myself the Standard of Normal.) :D

I learned about unschooling when my son was in 3rd grade. To be honest, the idea freaked me out! My son experienced public school as chaos, but that's what unschooling sounded like to me. Even so, by this time we'd tried everything else. We'd discovered other learning differences (dyslexia and dyscalculia) and I realized that I was going to have to step outside of my comfort zone and be the homeschool mom my son needed--even if it made me go prematurely gray!

It has taken me a few years to really get comfortable with our nontraditional path. The best advice I've ever been given about homeschooling (and parenting!) is this:

God knows the plans He has for our children. He created them to be perfectly suited for what He is calling them to do in their lives. Our job is to help our kids discover what God's purpose for them is, and to aid them in acquiring the knowledge and skills they need to follow their calling.

If we spend all of our time trying to remediate our children's academic "weaknesses", we won't be helping them to develop their strengths. And their strengths are what God is going to use.

Holy DNS Settings, Batman!

2013-01-17T01:19:00.000-06:00

Techie people, I am in awe of you. You are modern day Einsteins. I have no idea what the hell you do, but I am certain that it is amazing.

I finally decided to spring for a custom domain name for my blog. It's a shorter name, which makes it easier to give people my blog address. Now, instead of the really long and probably forgettable www.yeahisaiditblog.blogspot.com, folks can just type in www.yeahisaiditblog.com. Or for the really lazy/efficient, just yeahisaiditblog.com. Yay!

It's such a simple thing, right? WRONG.

I purchased my domain through Blogger, with the assurance that when you purchase a domain through Blogger (with Google Apps, who partners with GoDaddy or eNom), everything comes configured to work with Google products. It should all work seamlessly, lied Google. Tech-clueless me believed it would be that simple.

And the sneaky Google henchman behind the curtain laughed at my naivete.

For ~~four score and seven years~~ 3 days, I fought valiantly, trying to convince, manipulate, beat, and bribe Blogger to publish to my new domain name. And it was all, No. I don't recognize you or your authority here, ma'am. Be gone.

Then it tried to trick me, Rumpelstiltskin style, by giving me some ridiculously long verification code that wouldn't work in my DNS settings as a CNAME. So, per the recommendation of a techie guy at my domain registry company, I entered the code as a TXT. And that didn't even work!

(Is it me or did I sound like Charlie Brown's teacher in that last paragraph?)

I KNOW!!!!! I've been editing and adding A records and CNAME records and TXT records and slamalamadingdong records for 3 days now, and I still don't know what any of that means.

It's incredibly confusing. It's a language I don't speak. The language of GENIUSES, people. And we can't all be geniuses, you know?

Which is why I am grateful that techies exist.

Especially female techies.

After 4534 emails (which might be a slight exaggeration) and one fruitless telephone conversation with a techie guy from my domain registry company, and at least 4534 tears, I finally got a solution to my problem 15 minutes after my first interaction with a WOMAN.

She had me send her a screen shot. She looked into Google Support Forums. And she went in and fixed that long verification code by removing a period at the end that is not supposed to be there, GOOGLE. Then she changed it from a TXT to a CNAME. (I know. Whatever that is.) And magically, it worked!!!

Hallelujah! (For real.)

Note: I don't think you have to change any of your settings to keep getting notifications about my blog posts. A TECHIE WOMAN is on the case (*cue superhero music*), so it should all work like magic now. If it doesn't, let me know. (And I will revoke her Woman card.)

COMING SOON

I will be adding the Disqus commenting system, so my legions of readers can have a more user-friendly way to leave comments. (Which you will totally do more often, right?) (Because I really, really like getting comments.) (And I will totally reply to them.) (Signed, Comment Ho.)

Hair-Muggification. And a Little Ditty.

2013-01-15T01:15:00.000-06:00

Sorry I lied to you guys about the whole "I'll post a video tomorrow" thing. Sometimes I lie.* It's necessary to balance out all the good I do.

I will post the video of me singing Adele's Make You Feel My Love in a moment. But first I'd like to complain about a couple things. Because that's what I do. I complain.**

The first thing I'd like to complain about is that I was recently hair-mugged for the 3453545th time. If you've been around for a while, you know that this is a recurring theme in my life. For the rest of you, a definition.

Hair-mugged: [haer-mug-d] verb; past tense

1. the act of cutting off way more hair than a person has requested or given permission for (usually perpetrated by a licensed hair stylist)

2. the act of chopping layers into previously layerless hair without the consent of the client (also usually perpetrated by a licensed hair stylist)

[present tense: is hair-mugging; future tense: will hair-mug}

It'd been 10 weeks since I'd last been robbed of hair, so it was time for a trim. The last stylist I went to went renegade and decided to deal with my weird swirly growth pattern by cutting the underneath layer at the back of my neck an inch shorter than the rest of my hair. To "hide it". Because apparently that layer of hair is optional.

And since Miss Scissorhands cut the back of my hair so short overall, the underneath layer ended up only being a half inch long. I was all, "WTH? Who just gets rid of a layer of hair to deal with a swirly growth pattern?" And the really sucky thing is that this stylist cost 3 times more than my usual one.

Her masterplan to ~~ruin my life~~ help me manage my swirly growth pattern only caused another problem. Without that underlayer of hair, my curls fell all weird in back. The left side looked like it was an inch longer than the right side. And I have OCD, so symmetry is essential.

I went back to try to get things evened out a little, hoping that the stylist could trim the longer-looking side a bit so it would all fall evenly when dry. Instead, she gave me a hack job on only the left side of my head. I came home and asked Shrinky Dink to fix it. (She's my best friend, so she wants me to have good hair. And she's an artist, so she's got symmetry skillz.)

I waited 10 long weeks to get some length back. I didn't go back to the expensive hair Nazi (No hair for YOU!). I went to a cheap stylist who, while not particularly creative, has given me decent haircuts in the past. I helpfully detailed all the things I wanted (the sides and front long) and all the things I didn't want (chin-length hair). And she gave me what I asked for--except that she also gave me SIDE LAYERS. I HATE side layers. Side layers are not for curly-haired people. When I have side layers, they wedge up, making me look like a jellyfish. It's not a good look, people.

And now that I've spent so much time complaining about hair-mugging, I don't feel like complaining about the second thing. (You're welcome.)

As a consolation prize for having to read about the Great Hair-Mugging Debacle of 2012/2013, I will just post the video now.

Actually, I just lied again. First I'll do the footnotes. Then I'll post the video.

______________________________________________________________________________

*I actually don't lie. Except about my weight on my drivers license.

**I do complain, however. Frequently. I find that it keeps me from going postal on people. In that way, my complaining is actually a public service. You're welcome, society at large.

Illannoyed

2013-01-10T21:21:00.000-06:00

Shrinky Dink and I just got back from a visit to her dad's in Illinois. Nature Boy likes him some road trips, and he's a fan of nice grandpas, so he came too.

Unlike my son, I am not a particular fan of road trips. Riding in a car is just something I have to do to get where I'm going. Besides, Crohn's disease and long car trips are not great bedfellows. (I won't go into detail.) (You're welcome.)

But I didn't want Shrinky Dink to have to make the 8 hour drive alone, so I agreed to accompany her.

Unfortunately, Nature Boy got sick with a cough and shortness of breath the day before the trip. At night. On New Year's Day.

Which means there was nary a doctor's office open. Since we were supposed to leave on our trip the next morning, I called several urgent care clinics. Only one was open. The receptionist told me to bring my son right in. We's country folk now, so it took us a good 40 minutes to get there. We walked in, and I told the receptionist that we'd called ahead and been told to come in. And the chick had the nerve to say, "I'm sorry. We just filled our last spot, like, 10 minutes ago."

Girl.

I was all, "I called ahead! You told me to come in! We live 45748975685 miles away and this is the only place open!"

And she just said, "We usually refer to the ER down the street."

I stormed out. It was dramatic.

What Miss Nonchalant failed to realize is that it was January 1st of a new year, and medical insurance deductibles start over. Ours is $2000, and it applies to all hospital services, but not to primary care or urgent care.

Her "helpful" referral to the ER meant the difference between a $20 urgent care copay and a $2000 deductible.

So we decided to wait until the next day and go to our primary care doctor. I set my alarm for the (ridiculously early) hour of 8:30AM and got the earliest appointment I could. I didn't want us to get too late a start on our road trip. And wouldn't you know, the appointment took ALL FRICKIN' MORNING! There was some kind of communication snafu between the medical assistant-in-training and our doctor, and we sat in the exam room for an hour before I was like, "Give my kid some medical attention, yo!".

I know. I should have spoken up sooner. But our doctor's office has really good magazines and Cartoon Network, so Nature Boy and I were distracted.

By the time we were done picking up prescriptions at the pharmacy, it was nigh on 2 o'clock. Too late in the day to leave for Illinois.

Plus, Shrinky Dink had discovered that her driver's license was expired and she couldn't find her birth certificate to get it renewed.

Gah!

So we had to postpone the trip another day. Amazingly, there were no flat tires or acts of God on the way to Illinois. And other than being one space heater and a can opener short, there were no major traumas during the trip.

Still, it's good to be home.

Top 10 for 2012

2012-12-29T21:37:00.000-06:00

Like most of America, I have a cold right now. Which is the perfect excuse, in my opinion, to do absolutely nothing. So in place of a real blog post, I am offering my wonderful (Kleenex-clinging) readers a recycled medley of my Top 10 Posts for 2012.

You're welcome!

But first, here is a funny dog picture I found on Pinterest.

#1 Bully Bustin': a guest post

Yep. My most viewed post of 2012 was actually written by my mom. (Where do you think I got my general badassery?) It's about bullying in the workplace.

#2 Sunday Stream of Consciousness

Interestingly, my second most viewed post this year was a hastily written, random one. A little peek into my (unedited) mind, if you will. This happens to be the post where I first came out with my nostril fixation. (Thus explaining the post's popularity. Surely.)

#3 5 Things You Don't Know About Me

I love when bloggers I like post a Things You Don't Know About Me post. Humans are weird. We all have fascinating tidbits that we don't think to share in our daily lives. (Ooh! Leave me a comment below sharing some of yours!)

#4 McDonald's Playplace: a good place to catch some Zs

This one's about an eventful trip to McDonald's with my best friend, Shrinky Dink, and our 4 kids. This chick got on my nerves. I cartoonified it so she shall live in infamy.

#5 My grandparents: a love story

This post is about my love affair with my grandparents. It also has a picture of my naked butt.

#6 Ode to my left nostril

This one is when I fully unfurled my freak flag, sharing the fact that I actually Google my nostrils. It's also when I discovered that my left nostril is famous. (No autographs, please.)

#7 My kid's a genius. And so is yours.

The definition of success for kids is even more limited than it is for grownups. In this post, I proposed a new definition.

#8 Farewell Ol' Henry

After driving our old, paid off cars for 34389653 years, we got a new one. And like siblings, our dogs fought over shotgun.

#9 Farts: a compendium

Ahh, Nature Boy's inaugural post. Who doesn't think farts are funny?! (Besides my mother-in-law.)

#10 Tank says: It wasn't me.

Another dog-centric post, this one is about our adorable (huge)(drooly)(separation anxiety-havin') boxer, Tank. This month marks one year of sharing a life with the Tankster. (We adopted him from Boxer Rescue.) We think he's pretty awesome.

Thanks for a great 2012, y'all!

Elf on the Shelf: A Christmas Story

2012-12-25T23:30:00.000-06:00

Merry Christmas, y'all! I hope you're having a wonderful time with your families and friends. And presents. And pie.

We're having a great holiday here. I'm really grateful. But it's cold, man! It's currently 23 degrees here with a wind chill of 14. And one of the Homeskool Mafia members stole my purple long johns(!), so I'm one cold mama.

Remember yesterday when I told you about my dwarf phobia and mentioned that the whole Elf on the Shelf thing freaks me out as well?

My grandparents had an Elf of the Shelf when I was little. I remember waking up and looking for it each morning on the days before Christmas. I went along with the tradition, I guess, but I was always a little freaked out.

Who, I ask you, came up with the crazy idea to put creepy mini-Chuckies on our childhood shelves and move them around overnight so that kids think they come alive after bedtime? HOW SCARY IS THAT?!

You know, our parents and grandparents will probably claim that they did the Elf on the Shelf thing for our benefit. "It's part of the magic of Christmas," they'd say.

Don't believe 'em.

The real reason our elders tortured us like this is because it was FUN FOR THEM! They were peeved about getting crappy kid-made macaroni necklaces for Christmas, so they exacted their revenge with Elves on Shelves!

The series of photos below came from our amazing realtor, Debbie. She really gets into this thing! And she posts pictures of her little elf family's adventures on Facebook, so the elf-averse are bombarded with creepy elvish scenes on a regular basis this time of year! I asked her for one picture to use for my blog, and she sent me nine. Nine! [Thanks, Debbie (kind of) for the photos!]

Below is how I imagine Elf on the Shelf life to be. [All text (both on the photos and off) was added by me, so don't blame poor (elf-obsessed) Debbie.]

_______________________________________________________

Hi. I'm Jack. And this is my story.

This is me in happier times.

Before the whole leg-eating thing happened, we were flying high in first class to our honeymoon destination, when my new bride, Jingle, made a suggestion that should have given me pause.

I thought she was referring to the bodies of the snowmen that would melting on our front lawn after we returned from our trip, but I was to discover that I was horribly mistaken.

My second clue that something was not right was in my wife's choice of honeymoon activities.

Our wedding night was one I will never forget.

Mainly because I came away from it missing my left leg.

Still, I didn't want to start our marriage on the wrong, er, foot, so I decided to make peace with my "special" bride.

We had a couple of good years. We partied late into the nights and took a lot of vacations. I could tell Jingle was giving our marriage her best shot.

Soon, the two of us became three, and I was as happy as a one-legged elf can be.

Jingle's really getting into the wife and mother thing. She even made us milk and cookies for Christmas this year!

Today is our anniversary, so Jingle prepared us a special lunch! I can't wait!

[Note from the editor: It grieves me to inform you that Jack is unable to complete his story.]

[He drank the Kool-Aid.]

The End.

So I used to have a dwarf phobia...

2012-12-24T01:36:00.000-06:00

True story.

I'm not proud of it. But I used to be afraid of "little people".* They creeped me out. Much like clowns do. And those Elf on the Shelf ~~demons~~ dolls, which are pretty much like dwarven Chuckies as far as I'm concerned. (More on that tomorrow.)

And I realize how shitty a dwarf phobia sounds. Imagine, you say, if some skinny dude came up to you and said, "I used to have a fat chick phobia."

I get it. I really do.

But it doesn't change the fact that I used to freak out (on the inside) when a little person was around. Why? Did I think he or she might magically disappear and reappear somewhere close to me like a tricksy leprechaun? Did I think dwarfism was catching? No. It was totally an involuntary reaction.

I don't know why I developed a dwarf phobia. It's not like I was jumped by a posse of mini-thugs. (Although I did get "freaked on" by a dwarf at a dance club once. He looked a little like this.)

I watched Time Bandits like every other child of the '80s. Could my first experience with little people on the big screen have planted the seed? (And don't get me started on Oompa Loompas.) There was a tiny female dwarf who was popular with the guys in college (if you know what I mean). Maybe that (imagined) visual is what did it. Or maybe it was that episode of The Jerry Springer Show (What? Meemaw and I loved to watch that show together.) when a guy with no legs scooted after another guy for sleeping with his woman. He wasn't a dwarf, but he was little (due to the whole no legs thing). Could that staged spectacle have pushed me over the edge?

No, I'm pretty sure it's when my youngest uncle (only 10 years older than me) sent me a cleverly disguised link to midget porn as a prank.

Yeah.

I am happy to say that I don't have an aversion to little people anymore.

And I owe it all to reality TV.

It all started with a Little People, Big World marathon. I was recovering from lung surgery and living with Nature Boy in a hotel (while Tree Guy was supervising renovation work on our house to make it more lung-friendly). All there was to do was watch TV.

The longer I watched that show, the less averse I felt. The less weird or different they seemed to me. Then I watched some of The Little Couple. They were so cute!

The show that really kicked my phobia's butt was Pit Boss. I love that show!

In fact, don't tell Tree Guy, but I kind of have a crush on Sebastian.

___________________________________________________

*To the best of my knowledge, the medical term for a fear of little people is achondroplasiaphobia. If you do a Google search, you'll also find lollipopguildophobia listed as the name.

I'm pretty sure someone made that one up.

Flo the 'fro had to go, but now I'm down wit' the Clown

2012-12-21T22:05:00.001-06:00

So you know how I posted that Flo the 'fro was going into retirement due to concerns about offending Black folks and the possibility of having to deal with hateful backlash like the White chick over at Before and Afro? (She recently got her (real) hair did, by the way!)

Well, the feedback I've received since that post has consisted of:

1. Disappointment that Flo is no mo'. (It's a public no-go fo' Flo. But will I don her at home? Fo' sho'.)

and

2. Indignance that White folks like Michelle at Before and Afro get attacked for wearing a 'fro, but Black folks can wear straight blond wigs with no backlash. It's a double standard. (Yeah, I said it.)

Howev, my reasons for not wearing Flo out the do' (that stands for "door", all you Whiteys) has more to do with my desire to accurately represent myself. I'm not political. I'm crazy. I want to have fun, and be audacious, and rap crappily in the 'burbs. A costume is part of the fun. When it becomes about politics, it becomes unfun.

Besides, my alter ago, Ms. Crazy Papers, has had the same 'do for years. Every girl needs a change now and then, right?

I really like color, so how about some colorful do-rags?

Does this do-rag make me look phat?

Or perhaps something like this. (I'd merely be emulating my favorite songstress!)

Or, even though clowns creep me out, how about a purple clown wig? (Clowns are pretty much as White as you can get, so I would only be appropriating clown culture.)

Which Caucasian-appropriate look do you like best?

Suburban Gypsy? Frou Frou Diva? Or Purple Clownstress?

Broke Ass Christmas: a rap

2012-12-18T12:13:00.000-06:00

Several of my girlfriends are struggling to afford Christmas presents this year. Money is tight all around. I don't know many people who aren't at least a little worried about finances right now.

I know that the real meaning of Christmas has nothing to do with commercialism, but I also know that it's at least as much fun to give as it is to receive. (So have fun and send me an Ulta giftcard!)

I wrote this rap to commiserate with my fellow broke moms. And to cheer them up!

Merry Broke Ass Christmas, e'rybody!