tuesday's true confession: apparently ants live in texas too!

I've never reposted before, but I am today because it's Tuesday . . . and it's been far too long since I've confessed anything.  And there is an incredible sense of irony in the fact, that this is my very first Tuesday's True Confession and I can pretty much confess the EXACT SAME THING that I did in my very first Tuesday's True Confession in my old state.  Let's just say that I woke up this morning to about 100 little ants coming through a crack in the caulking of our back door.  I opened said door to find a GIANT ant hole as high as the threshold of our back door that is the cozy home to probably a thousand ants.  My three year old and I spent the entire morning waging battle with the ants.  Now, she just walks around the house with her eyes darting across the floor looking for ants.   Picture me trying to explain to her that when the ants are outside in their home, she should leave them alone and not stomp on them . . . but when they are in our home, we stomp, squish, spray and basically annihilate them.   

Poor kid is damaged for life!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm grossed out.  You will be too, but please don't judge me.  I found an ant.  Not outside in the grass or on the sidewalk, but in . . . my . . . kitchen!  And not just on the floor, but in . . . a . . . cabinet!  And we all know that there is NEVER just ONE ant.  I confess (This technically isn't my true confession for today.) that I am not a person who cleans the house everyday, but please believe me . . . our house is clean.  Not spic-and-span-so-you-can-eat-off-the-floor clean, but at least I'm-not-going-to-find-an-ant-crawling-in-a-cabinet-at-11:30-at-night clean.  So, like I said, please don't judge me.  

As a result, I did something that I have wanted to do and needed to do for a long time.  I took everything out of the cabinets, scrubbed everything in serious scrubbing fashion and put everything back in a neat and orderly way. 

BEFORE

DURING

AFTER

I started doing this at 11:30 PM, so it was a late night.  I just couldn't go to bed wondering if there were more of those little pests running around in there.  Thankfully (I think), I didn't find anymore, but now every time I walk into the kitchen or open a cabinet I'm expecting to find an ant.  HELP!  I don't want to use toxic pesticides just for peace of mind, but does anyone know of a toxic-free way to keep these little critters away? 

Here's my true confession . . . I'm a hypocrite.  You see, whenever I find a spider or other crawly little bug in the house, I gently scoop it up and put it outside where it belongs.  I know, weird.  I'm fully aware that this is completely bizarre behavior, but I just can't bring myself to kill them.  I even have my girls trained now to come get mommy when they find a spider so we can rescue it and put it outside.  But there is something in me . . . something deep down inside of me that cannot muster up the same compassion for ants.  I'll just say it . . . I HATE ANTS - not outside-type ants, but any ant found in my house is definitely in danger and should fear for its life. 

I guess I should thank that little ant because it helped me mark a to-do off my list that I've been putting off.  At least my cupboards are cleaned, and now I can do what I like to do and . . .

confess on!

tuesday's true confession: quick and dirty style

I confess I can't remember the last time a looked through my blog reader.

Cue guilt!

I've been absent . . . no commenting of your amazing blogs . . . very few responses to comments left on this blog.

Guilt increasing!

I miss you, and I can't wait to be back reading, commenting and responding in a few weeks when the move and our nomad lifestyle is over. 

In the meantime . . . stay indoors and . . .

CRAFT ON . . . because I can't!

tuesday's true confession: i can't wear half of my wardrobe

I found a curious thing inside my closet while I was sorting, organizing and purging tonight in preparation for what I simply refer to as M-DAY now. 

I found about half a closet of clothes that I haven't worn for almost a year. 

Do you want to know why I haven't worn these clothes for almost a year?

Guess.

No, it's not because they don't fit.

No, it's not because they are out of style.  (Well, they might be out of style, but that doesn't bother me.  I'm not known for my sense of style.)

No, it's not because they are too big.  (Although, I wouldn't mind if this was the reason.)

One last guess . . . no?

Okay, the reason that I have a half closet full of clothes I haven't worn in a year is because these clothes all require this . . .  

Yes, I confess tonight before all of you that I am so lazy and I despise ironing so much that I have half a closet of clothing (that I love) that has gone unworn because it requires ironing.  Sad, isn't it! 

And guess what else . . . I managed to justify not ironing even one article tonight or tomorrow or at any point in the next three weeks because . . . hey, why iron something that's just going to get all wrinkly in the move? 

I wonder what my excuse will be once we are all unpacked and settled in at the new house?!

Mental note to self . . . do not buy anymore clothing that requires turning on the iron. 

Are there any confession hidden in your closet?

Confess on!

tuesday's true confession:

Well, by now most of you know that we are moving.  In less than a month we will be Iowans at heart but Texans by location.  That's right . . . we are moving from Iowa to Texas!  Aaaack! 

Every move is different. 

I've lived in Iowa, South Dakota, China, England, Iowa, Michigan and Iowa.  (Yep, Iowa seems to always lure me back . . . she's a crafty state!)  I've done all these moves by myself.  (Well, truth be told that for the stateside moves I had help with the packing, driving, unpacking, but ultimately it was my choice, my risk, my life.)  These moves were all filled with adventure, excitement, giddy anticipation . . . lots of positive feelings. 

This time I've discovered that moving a family is different.  It's no longer just me!  Now I'm responsible to and for others.  And I confess that kind of sucks. 

My oldest has burst into tears almost every night for the last week as I tuck her into bed and pray for our move.  Tonight she finally said, "I don't want you to pray that out loud anymore.  I want you to pray about that place in your mind only.  I don't like hearing it in my face."  She said this through sobs and tears and gasping breathes.  It was horrible . . . I feel horrible. 

I tell her that she is brave . . . that this is an adventure . . . that we are doing it together.  I tell her that she will find a friend or two or maybe even three . . . that we can write and send pictures to our friends and they will send them to us . . . that home is where we are together.  I tell her . . .

What on earth do I tell her?!?!    

Have you moved with kids?  Any advice?  How do I help her grieve and feel her feelings but also see this as an adventure?  How?

By the way . . . you are going to hear a lot about this whole moving gig the next month or so because it is basically consuming my every waking moment . . . so thanks in advance for putting up with me, giving me advice, passing on your own stories, keeping me sane (or as sane as I can be). 

Confess on!

tuesday's true confession: i wish is was tuesday!

Is it Tuesday? 

I wish.

Because if it was Tuesday, that would mean that I have an extra day to get the following done:
~finishing touches on the felt food
~wrap felt food
~finishing touches on pretend and play restaurant set
~wrap restaurant set
~two super hero capes
~wrap two super hero capes
~two crayon rolls  (Woohoo!  I don't need to wrap them because they are stocking stuffers.)
~appliques for Christmas jammie shirts
~wrap Christmas jammies
~make parent and grandparent gifts
~wrap parent and grandparent gifts
~wrap friend presents for kids' Christmas party
~menu planning
~grocery shopping
~meal prep
~Christmas goodie making
~clean up massive disaster area . . . a.k.a. craft room/dining room
~sweep/mop floors
~vacuum
~clean bathroom
~get guest room ready
~and about 100 other things that I will realize I need to do between now and Saturday

Like the rest of you, I've been so busy lately . . . so busy, in fact, that I forgot that I have a blog.  It completely slipped my mind . . . I'm not joking . . . I wish that I was joking . . . but I'm not. 

This is me . . . looking all relaxed and blissful a few weeks ago when we put up our tree.  I miss that lady.  I hope she comes back soon!  I think my husband does too!

So happy Wednesday, but I confess that I wish that is was Tuesday.

Craft on!

tuesday's true confess: taking deep breaths

It's official . . .

I did everything within my power to prevent it.

I've been working diligently all year to keep it at bay.

I've planned and cut and poked myself and glued and so much more all in an effort to rise above it.

But it's happened . . .

Yep, I confess that the pre-Christmas panic has set in!

Last night as I sat in a pile of wrapping paper, tissue, bows, ribbon and scrapbook paper, I realized that I was in the same place that I was in last year at this time . . . in Panicland . . . and not just as a tourist visiting Panicland but more like the mayor of Panicland. 

Apparently, working on Christmas gifts all year long doesn't actually help suppress the panic.  So that's good to know.   

It won't all get done.
The finishing touches on the felt food won't get completed.
The pillow buddy eyes won't get finished.
The jammie shirts won't get appliques on them.
The Velcro won't get ironed on.
The present won't get wrapped.

Except it will . . . all of it will get done . . . just as it does every year . . . after I remember to breathe . . . deep breaths . . . and not make such a big deal out of it all. 

It will all get done, and if it doesn't my kids won't every know.

Feeling better already!  How about you?

Craft on and carry on!

tuesday's true confession: i quit

Okay . . . not really!

But I'm watching listening to the latest episode of Survivor on CBS(dot)com, so I caught the quit-er bug.  But now that twelve (plus) days of traditions is officially over (sadness), I'm getting back into my posting schedule.  I have to confess that I'm struggling to craft, take pictures, post stuff . . . and pretty much anything else related to blogging.

You see, I'm an all-or-nothing type of person.  If you are one or you live with one, you know what I mean. 

For an all-or-nothing person like myself, it's kind of a challenge to get back into the swing of things after a break from a typical schedule. 

This is exactly why I make myself exercise EVERY SINGLE DAY with the exception of about two to three weeks off after giving birth to my little munchkins . . . because I'm pretty sure that birthing a 9 1/2 pound baby is worth three weeks off in the exercise department.  And every day during that little break, I was telling myself that on such-and-such a day I would be exercising NO MATTER WHAT.  I'm the type of person who after taking one day off from anything (like exercise) pretty much says to herself . . . 

"Hey, I didn't do it yesterday so I that means that I should never do it again . . . EVER . . . for the rest of my entire life . . . EVER."  

This is the reason why I shave my legs EVERY DAY. 

Here are some examples of what could happen for a person like me:

• "Hey, I didn't eat very well today, so I guess I will just eat chocolate and cheesecake for the rest of my life."
• "Wow, I didn't get to sleep by 10:30 tonight, so I guess I should stay up until midnight forever."
• "Yikes, I didn't floss last night before bed.  Well, I think I'll stop brushing too.  That will save me a lot of time."
• "Uh oh, I didn't work on a craft this week, so I will NEVER turn on my sewing machine again."

I know . . . trust me . . . I know that it's completely illogical. 

And I suppose that typing up these last few posts is a step in the right direction . . . a step back on the blogging track. 

But what about you? 

How did you keep yourself motivated?  What do you do to get yourself back into a schedule of any kind after a break?  I definitely need some tips . . . and maybe a little kick in the . . . I think you know where I'm going with that.

Confess on! 

   

tuesday's true confession: i steal from my children

Yikes!

If you follow twelve crafts on Facebook, you've already had a sneak peak into my confession today.  (And by the way, if you don't "like" twelve crafts on Facebook, you can . . . if you want to.  All you have to do is push that little button in the FB box on the sidebar.  Don't you love my shameless promotion?!)

Back to the topic at hand . . . I confess that late at night after the girls are tucked into bed (and talking to themselves non-stop in their beds), I sneak over to THE cabinet in the kitchen, open it quietly and take one . . . okay, two . . . alright, three pieces of candy from their stash.  

I can't help myself.  I'm a sucker (interesting choice of words) for Milk Duds and Whoppers.  I can't resist them.  I tell myself that they are little . . . I mean, who can stop after three Whoppers? 

Seriously, who? 

That's not even close to enough to satisfy my sweet tooth.

I'm going to have to stop soon, or they are going to start to notice.

Maybe I'll just have to go buy my own stash! 

Please . . . tell me I'm not the only one who steals from her children!

Confess on!

    

tuesday's true confession: i voted

I voted today. 

I'm not going to tell you who or what I voted for because that's not the point. 

The point is that I confess that our political system baffles me.  Well, it's not the system that baffles me so much as it is the people involved in the system.  I think the general idea of a multi-party democratic system is wonderful, but somewhere along the way we all began polluting the system. 

We began calling those who don't agree with our political beliefs names . . . horrible names.  We began drawing lines in the sand that set sister against brother and friend and against friend.  We began talking . . . sometimes shouting . . . so much at the other side that we stopped listening.  We began condoning political ads that are embarrassing to our country rather than informative and helpful additions to political campaigns.  

So I confess that I don't get it . . . I don't get why we can't just all get along and work together in the effort to make this country a better place . . .

. . . so I voted today . . .

and I hope that the people I voted for can put aside labels and partisan politics so that my children can have a future filled with promise.

What about you . . . did you vote today?

Confess on!

This post is sponsored by Arise Shine Designs.  Visit Arise Shine Designs for beautiful Scripture-inspired jewelry:

tuesday's true confession: will i ever hang those pictures?

Alright . . . here's the deal . . . this week I've seen this:

and this:

and this:

And every time I see amazing creations like these, I think to myself:

I want to make something like that.

or

What cool photo wall collage can I come up with?

or

I need to do some decor crafts.

Here's the deal . . . I won't and I can't. 

As we established last Friday, I confess that I do not have an eye for pretty when it comes to decorating. 

I've tried . . . I've tried very hard to take my quirky, eclectic style and showcase it in a room, but it usually turns out hideous and clown-like.  (I really don't want to raise my children in a circus-like atmosphere because personally I think clowns are kind of freaky . . . not funny!)

I read some great bloggers who have some amazingly decorated homes, and the only way I will ever get a home to look like that is if Stephanie Lynn herself comes and lives with me . . . hmm . . . now that's I good idea.  I wonder if she would do that . . . maybe if I asked really nice and said "pretty please."   
   
So I confess that my creating and crafting skills are pretty much limited to stuff for my kids.  I can't think of cool things like world map balls, painted family trees and recycled sunburst mirrors.  I want to . . . I totally envy those that can, but it's not going to happen.  I don't know what colors look good together or what furniture to put where.  In fact . . . wait for it . . . I still have pictures leaning up against the wall where I THINK I MIGHT hang them some day . . . and we've lived in our house for SEVEN years.  Now, that's embarrassing!

The sooner I learn to accept that and embrace the fact that I'm a one-trick pony when it comes to the crafting world, the better off I'll be. 

So . . . I'm over it (I'm not really) . . . I give up (I don't really) . . . I'm sticking with kids' stuff (I probably won't). 

How about you . . . what's your crafting niche?  Kid's stuff? Decor? Sewing?Quilting? Scrapbooking?  Do you find yourself looking at the crafting skills of others and wishing you had those skills?

Confess on!

This post is sponsored by an inspirational new sponsor, Arise Shine Designs.  Look for a spotlight post on Arise Shine Designs including a great giveaway in the weeks to come, and visit Arise Shine Designs for beautiful Scripture-inspired jewelry:

tuesday's true confession: i feel like chewbacca

I had a confession all lined up for today.  Then this morning . . . I didn't do something that I pretty much always do . . . shave my legs. 

I know . . . I know . . . this is a family-friendly blog.  So I hope you don't find that too shocking or too much information.  ;) 

I confess that I just didn't feel like shaving!  And I confess that I liked NOT doing it!  I've shaved pretty much everyday since I turned 12 when I was finally allowed to put razor to leg.  (Okay, there were probably a few days toward the end of my pregnancies when I couldn't reach my legs let alone shave them, but other than that I'm a daily shaver.)  But today I'm contemplating throwing out my razor and embracing the hairy leg . . . okay, not really.  The stubble is already getting to me.  In fact, I'm feeling a little like Chewbacca - you know, that hairy, growling giant from Star Wars, so I'll be back at it tomorrow.  But for one lone day it was nice to shave (pun intended) a few minutes off my shower time.

I think if there is one thing that I would love to give up in my morning routine, this is it! 

How about you?  What's the one thing you would LOVE to give up doing every morning?

I realize that this confession may be way more information than most of you bargained for when you signed up to follow my blog, but in the name of keepin' it real . . . this is me . . . unshaven legs and all.

I hope you will come back tomorrow for a more appropriate crafting-related post. 

Confess on!

tuesday's true confession: do olives have legs, antenna and yellow stripes?

**Here's a disclaimer . . .

if you are easily grossed out or eating, you might want to move on to another blog.**

Yesterday was supposed to be my very own mini-utopia day . . . filled with a drive to the nearest city (45 minutes away) by myself (I love going away by myself even if it's just a 45 minute drive), a few errands for work and personal stuff, and a delightful solo lunch at my favorite me-restaurant . . . Panera.  I love(d) Panera . . . soup, salad, warm bread.  What could be better on a beautiful fall day? 

After I ran my errands, I sat down at a little booth in a secluded corner of Panera, turned on my computer in order to do a little work, and waited for my Classic Greek salad and whole grain baguette to arrive.  The first bite was delicious . . . the next bite was delicious.  I was expecting the entire salad to be just as delicious . . . that is until I looked down at the bite of lettuce on my fork and saw what I thought was a black olive.  

Do black olives have legs and antenna and yellow stripes? 

Uhm . . . the answer to that is a big resounding "NO!". 

What does have legs, antenna and yellow stripes? 

A giant, olive-sized beetle does!

*source - This isn't the actual beetle in question, but I can only scan through images of beetles for so long.

Aaaaack!!!!!  

I tried to remain calm, but truth be told, the couple of bites that I had already swallowed were tough to keep down.  I politely got the attention of the assistant manager who was walking by at the moment.  I showed him the beetle on my fork. 

He said, "Gross!  Can I make you another Greek salad?"
I said, "No, I'm pretty sure I don't want this salad anymore."
He said, "Can I make you a different salad?"
I said, "No, I'm pretty sure I don't want any salad anymore."
He said, "Okay."

Then he grabbed my bowl, fork and beetle and walked away.

That's it!  No, "Hey can I get you your money back?" or "Wow!  I'm so sorry!  Let me get my manager."  Nothing!  Just, "Okay."

This isn't the first time I've encounter a bug in my food.  Five years ago as I dug into a cup of frozen yogurt sprinkled with chocolate chips at TCBY, I was surprised to find a fly among the chocolate chips.  When I was eight, I found a fly on top my piece of French Silk pie in a cafe.  Both of these times the staff were apologetic and did their level best to make the situation right. 

But this assistant manager at Panera only gave me a "gross" and an "okay".  Does that seem a bit odd to anyone else? 

So my true confession is that I don't like beetles or bugs or insects of any kind in my food.  I know . . . shocking, right?!  But my other true confession is that as much as I'm still totally grossed out and also a little miffed, I'm frustrated because Panera has been one of my favorite places to grab a quick bite for years and years.  And now because of one assistant manager, my opinion of Panera is tainted.  I know I shouldn't let one bad experience reflect poorly on an entire company.  I know that . . . really I do.  But as I ate dinner last night, I was flicking through my food expecting to find a bug.  As I ate breakfast this morning, I examined every bite to make sure a gnat or fly or . . . beetle wasn't in it.  Really . . . I'm not an overly dramatic person. 

Is that weird?  Should I just be able to let it go?  Have you ever found a bug/insect in your food at a restaurant?  What did you do?  How did you get over it?

Confess on!    

tuesday's true confession part 2: crafting with the stars

This post is so chocked full of confessions I don't even know where to begin . . .

First I confess that I watched one season of Dancing with the Stars.  I was sucked in because Shawn Johnson was a contestant, and she is from my hometown.  She's probably 15 years younger than I am, so I really don't know her from Eve (or Adam).  However, for some reason I liked to watch her dance. 

But that was the one and only season I watched, so I'm ashamed to confess that when I heard about Sew Dang Cute's Crafting with the Stars competition, I thought to myself, "Hmm . . . that a catchy name. I wonder where she came up with that."  Duh . . . I wish I could say that it didn't take me a day or two to figure out the connection between Crafting with the Stars and Dancing with the Stars. 

So . . . I confess that I'm slow, but even though I'm slow I'm putting this pretend and play mommy (or daddy) set in Sew Dang Cute's Crafting with the Stars.

So here's a recap:

Doll Bassinet Carrier - Part 1 & Part 2

Little Mommy (or Daddy) Diaper Bag

Roll-Up Changing Pad

Doll Diapers

Doll Diaper Wipes

I also confess that I'm pretty sure this set isn't even half as cool as the majority of the projects linked up so far.  Go check them out and throw your own into the mix!


 Craft on!

tuesday's true confession: i'm a gal of contradictions

Let me just say right up front that I totally get the irony and hypocrisy that overshadows what I am about to confess. 

But I'm going to confess it anyway . . . at risk of revealing that I'm a gal of contradictions. 

So last night we went to the grocery store . . . such a "fun" family outing.  As I was walking through the chip/cracker aisle picking out pretzels for my girls, I found this:

Yep, that's right . . . holiday pretzels.  Imagine my surprise when I returned home to check the calendar and find out that is is still the first week of October.  We haven't even celebrated Halloween (or All Saints or Fall Harvest Festival or whatever you celebrate) or Thanksgiving, and the grocery stores are already carrying Christmas-themed items. 

I confess that I find this annoying.  Yep, the gal that's been creating Christmas gifts for nine months finds Christmas-themed items in the grocery store in October annoying. 

Hey . . . I told you this was going to seem hypocritical.

Let me at least try to defend myself.  

You see . . . I've been creating and crafting gifts because I'm trying to reduce my family's focus on the commercial aspects of the holidays.  I'm hoping that by giving gifts that have been labored over and loved on that my girls won't be so focused on the latest and greatest must-have gifts that are being sold on every store shelf only to be forgotten about a few months later in the bottom of the toy chest. 

At the same time, I don't want my girls focusing on Christmas so soon when there are other things to be enjoyed and holidays to be celebrated.  One of the things that I love so much about Christmas is Advent . . . the season of waiting and preparing that starts four weeks before Christmas Day.  At our house we do a lot of things to prepare ourselves . . . to learn to wait patiently for the celebration of what Christmas means in our particular faith tradition. 

So while I may have been focusing on Christmas by making homemade/handmade gifts, I don't want to actually start celebrating yet . . . I want to wait patiently, and I want my girls to learn to wait patiently.  It's hard to get them to learn that patient waiting when they see this bag of Rold Gold pretzels sitting on the grocery store shelf.  All of the sudden I'm fielding questions like:
   "Mommy, is it Christmas?"  
   "Are we getting our tree soon?" 
   "When are we going to open presents?"

(I also confess I actually bought the bag of pretzels that I'm so annoyed by .  . . and yes, I get the hypocrisy of that too.  I'm full of hypocrisy I guess.  However, I did think of an un-Christmas related food craft that I'm going to use them for in the near future.)

So . . . I guess now I'm just waiting for the Christmas decorations and ornaments to show up in stores near me, so that I can start avoiding them until the last week of November.  Ugh! 

So are you rolling your eyes at me yet?

Confess on!    

tuesday's true confession: my crafting to blogging ratio

Hmmm . . . so let's get right to the point today . . .

I'm pretty sure that my crafting to blogging about crafting ratio right now is 1:100.  That might be a slight over-exaggeration.

But whatever the actual ratio . . . I confess that lately I've spent more time blogging about crafting than actually crafting.

And in an effort to get my crafting mojo back, I've made a commitment to spend tonight crafting . . . not blogging about crafting.

What's your crafting to blogging about crafting ratio? 

So that's that.

Confess on!

tuesday's true confession: my love of the fun house mirror

When I was younger, we lived near an amusement park called Adventureland. 

I loved going to Adventureland . . . going on rides, playing games, eating cotton candy.  But one of my favorite things was the fun house. 

There was something fascinating about standing in front of each of those mirrors. 

One made me look about 3 feet tall and 3 feet wide. 

One made me look like I had a shrunken head and a ginormous body.  (My husband recently told me that ginormous is not actually a word.  I said, "How can it not be a word . . . I've been saying it forever?"  He claimed that just because I say it doesn't make it an actual word.  I'm pretty sure he's wrong about that.)   

One made me look about seven feet tall and as thin as a pencil. 

And there was one that made me look like me, but just a bit better version of me . . . you know a few inches taller and a few inches thinner.  The me I secretly (well, not so secretly now) wished that I was.  I stood in the front of that particular mirror much longer than the others.  I loved that fun house mirror!

Today I'm confessing that I feel like my blog is a little like that last mirror.

I'm just a bit sweeter, wittier, more creative on my blog than I am in real life.  My blog makes me "look" like me . . . just a bit better version of me.

Every time someone writes me an e-mail saying something like . . .
   
    "You are so sweet."
    "What an amazing idea! You are so creative!"
    "You always seem to make me laugh."

. . . I think, "Yep, the fun house mirror at work again," and I feel a bit guilty that some of you actually believe I'm that better version of me you "see" on this blog.

But I think the real confession is that I kind of like the me I am on this blog, and I kind of enjoy being a bit sweeter, wittier, and more creative than the me I am in real life.  So maybe . . . just maybe . . . this blog has actually inspired me to be that person in real life. 

How about you?  What has your blog inspired you to do or be in real life?

Confess on!

tuesday's true confession: the spirit is willing; the body is weak

On June 14, I celebrated the fact that twelve crafts reached 120 followers.

Today is September 14 and I'm approaching 700 by GFC and over 1000 total through GFC and feedreaders and e-mail subscriptions.  I'm still not sure how that happened.  

I'm surprised.

And I'm overwhelmingly thankful.

I'm thankful that I started this blog so a few random friends and family members could help keep me accountable for working towards my goal of making all my Christmas gifts . . . I'm thankful because something else happened . . .

I made new friends . . . bloggy friends . . . an amazing group of people that I proudly and thankfully add to the list of friends that I see face-to-face throughout the week.

Some of these friends are very much like me.  Some of these friends are very different from me.  But whether they are like me or different from me, they are indeed friends . . . you are friends.

And you became friends because you left a short comment on a post . . .

. . . and I replied . . .

. . . and you replied to my reply . . .

and I replied to your reply to my reply . . .

and before I knew it, we were discussing children, faith, family, calling . . . life.

Amazing friendships started because of a few replies.

And that's why I am kind of sad to be writing this confession today . . . because I know I might miss making a new friend through a simple reply.  

But I have to confess that I can no longer reply to every comment anymore.  Not because I don't want to . . . I do . . . I really do . . . but I can physically no longer do it.  The spirit is willing, but the body is weak . . . literally.  As I type this, I have my wrists and forearms wrapped in flexible ice packs.  This is pretty much the only thing that lets me type without discomfort, and so I've come to realize that I need to reduce the time I spend typing on the computer . . . which means I just can't reply to comments like I really want to.

I realize that your tendency will probably be to stop commenting, but I hope you won't.  I love your comments!  They make me smile . . . sometimes laugh.  They keep be inspired . . . sometimes when I don't feel very inspired.  They keep me committed . . . sometimes when I feel like quiting.

I will read and cherish every single comment left . . . 

but I will only respond by e-mail to comments that contain questions.

And I will ALWAYS respond to e-mails sent directly to my e-mail address.  

I'm guessing that most of you will understand.  I'm guessing that most of you, like me, have found yourselves in situations where you really wanted to do something but just physcially couldn't anymore.  Thank you for understanding!
 
And please . . . please . . . please don't hesitate to e-mail.  I do love starting new friendships!

Confess on!   

tuesday's true confession

My eyes are watering.
My nose is running.
My chest is full of gunk.
My throat is raw.
My head is pounding.

Yep . . . I'm sick.  I hate being sick.  (And I never use the "h" word.  It's a strong word reserved only for rare moments.)

While I could leave my confession at that, being sick has given me the opportunity to learn something about myself that I'm going to confess to you today.  I think I've known it for a long time, but a moment of drug induced clarity (Is it possible for Sudafed to bring clarity?) has made it impossible to avoid. 

By nature, I'm a skeptical person.  I won't go into how I came to be this way, but I am slow to believe anything unless I've experienced it, seen it or researched it.  My skepticism drives my husband nuts because whenever he tells me something, I usually say something like:

"Are you sure?"
"Did someone tell you that or did you see it for yourself?"
"Hmm . . . that sounds fishy.  I'm going to have to look into that."
"I don't know if I believe that."

My point is that in the midst of my complete skepticism about almost anything, today I watched the infomercial channel (Did I mention that I was in a drug induced state?) for about an hour.  I only let myself watch two infomercials - one about a hair care product and one about make up.  I watched and I was mesmerized. 

Maybe, just maybe if I had that hair care system, my hair could look like silk and flutter in the wind like butterfly wings.  And maybe, just maybe I could spend only 5 minutes on my make-up every day and have flawless, younger looking skin too. 

Yep, in the midst of all my skepticism, I confess that I believed that I too can look like the models/actresses in their very early 20s featured on these shows if I could just get my hands on those magical products. 

Thankfully, when I picked up the phone to dial, I remembered that I'm skeptical about ordering things over the phone and giving my personal billing information to a stranger.  Unbridled, drug induced weakness barely avoided . . . thank goodness.

Hopefully, I feel better tomorrow . . . I'm not sure I'll be able to resist another infomercial.  

How about you?  Are you a skeptic?  Have you ever purchased something from an infomercial?  ;)

Confess on! 

tuesday's true confession: are you teetering on the edge?

Okay, I was totally blown away by the response to last week's confession.  Can you believe that there are more bed-leavers than bed-makers?  I honestly thought that I was a lone sheep wandering in the wilderness of messy beds.  I also have to admit that I felt a little inspired by those who do make their beds, and so . . . wait for it . . . I made my bed and my daughters' beds once last week!  (Oh how I wish I would have taken a picture of such a rare moment in history!)  Let's not focus on the fact that I made the beds because we had a window inspector go through the house last week, and I felt somehow obligated to make it look like we are bed-makers.  Let's focus on the fact that I MADE THE BEDS!  (On a side note, why do I care what a complete stranger thinks about my messy beds?  Hmmm . . . I'm going to have to spend sometime contemplating that one.) 

Now, on to a different topic . . . this week's confession . . . I'm slightly obsessed with blogging - reading, writing, crafting so I can then blog about the crafting.  There I said it.  I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one.  I'm guessing one or two of you reading this right now are teetering with me on the edge of obsession.

It started innocently enough . . . I wanted to start a little blog for friends and family to read in order to keep myself accountable to my homemade Christmas goal.  I thought maybe ten - at most - of my closest friends and family would read along and keep my feet to the fire.  But then I got sucked in.  I started reading and following other blogs.  I started posting on my own blog almost daily.  Then . . . people I didn't even know started reading my blog, and I started referring to my bloggy friends in conversations with my husband.  

--Here's how those conversations go . . . Me: Well, a friend of mine said . . .   Husband: Is this a real friend or someone you met through your blog?  Me:  Uhm . . . someone I met through my blog.  Husband:  That doesn't count.  Me:  Sure it does . . . bloggy people can be friends too.  Husband: sigh--   

My point is that I'm in too deep.  And my ever so patient husband finally said this the other day, "If you are going to spend so much time doing this, could you at least support our family with it?" 

And I said, "I don't know . . . can you support our family by watching football?"  Okay, I didn't really say that because, truth be told, he spends way less time watching football than I do crafting and blogging . . . like I said, he's a pretty patient guy.

But he did have a point . . . I could at least try to use the thing I love to buy a yard of fabric so that I can do more of the thing I love.  So I'm starting . . . I'm starting to venture into the sponsorship and etsy gig . . . I'm starting VERY slowly . . . snails' pace slow.  Maybe by Christmas I'll be able to buy a yard of fabric AND a roll of shiny ribbon.  I can always dream, right?!  

Yep . . . I'm definitely obsessed.  What about you?

Confess on!

tuesday's true confession: six-year-old sheet logic

Time for Tuesday's True Confession, and I'm having trouble choosing what to confess. 

I could confess that this beautiful baby

is starting kindergarten in two days, and I am feeling a bit achy inside.

I could confess that I'm having serious hair issues that make me feel ugly.

I could confess someone - a person that I don't even know - did something that made me doubt myself today and that made me angry.

But instead of all that serious baggage, I'm going to confess this:

I don't make my bed . . . AND . . . I don't make my five year old make her bed either.  I know . . . shocking, isn't it?  I just tucked her into bed for the night.  The covers were all bunched up at the bottom of the bed, and it didn't bother me one bit! 

When I was growing up, my mom used to force me to make my bed every morning.  This chore totally confused me, and I had very logical little-kid reasons for why it was silly to make my bed:

1)  I'm just going to get back in it when it was time for bed again.
2)  Making a bed wasted valuable time I could have used for a variety of other things.
3)  . . .

Okay, I only had two reasons, but I was six so give me a break.

I also said things like, "I will never force my kids to make their beds." 

There's something you should know about me . . . when I say I am or I am not going to do something, I pretty much stick to that just to prove a point.  I'm stubborn . . . but that's for a different confession. 

I'm now thirty-three, and I feel the exact same way about making beds as I did when I was six.  I don't do it, and I don't make my kids do it.  And I probably never will.  There I said it!

What about you?  Are you a bed-maker or a bed-leaver?

Confess on!