Which one do I focus on?

A few nights ago, there was a bug in our bedroom. I have no idea what kind of bug it was, but I know it was stuck in the large trash bag full of stuff that needed to be transferred to the attic but was currently sitting next to our dresser. I also know that it could fly. Every once in a while, I would hear the little vibration of its wings beating against the plastic, just trying to find an escape route that would allow it to viciously attack me.

Gulp.

Dallin was asleep. I didn't want to wake him up, but I also didn't want to (a) not be able to sleep because of the occasional wing flutters, and/or (b) give the bug enough time to free himself (or herself) from the bag and relocate herself (or himself) to my face. The following conversation ensued.

K: Dallin? ... Dallin? .... Dallin?
D: Hm?
K: Oh good, you're up.
D: Hm.
K: Will you do me a favor?
D: Hm?
K: Will you take that bag into the extra room?
D: ...
K: There's a bug in there. I can hear it. It's trying to get out. I can't sleep!
D: (Flips over to go back to sleep)
K: Please?
D: ...
K: ...
B (for Bug): Flutter flutter buzz buzz flutter flutter
K: Did you hear that?
D: No.
K: Please?
D: (gets up and walks over to the bag) Can it fly?
K: Yeah, I'm pretty sure. That's why I'm worried about it.
D: (pokes and shakes the bag, then picks it up and moves it, then comes back to bed)
K: Thank you.
D: No problem.

Contrast that awesomeness to what I just experienced, not 15 minutes ago.

Yesterday, I brought home two Sprinkles cupcakes from my shopping trip in Scottsdale. We ate devoured the red velvet cupcake of deliciousness last night, leaving the peanut butter chip cupcake of deliciousness for today. I decided I wanted my share, so I cut it in half and set it on a plate, at which point, Dallin came into the kitchen. I turned around for a second, and when I turned back to my cupcake, there was a chunk missing from it.

D: Mm...that's good!
K: Oh - do you want your half now?
D: No, I want your half now. I'll take my half later.

I guess I should focus on his "get out of bed at midnight to move a trapped bug" quality rather than his cupcake snatching tendencies.

But I think I'll take a bite of "his half" of the cupcake anyway.

Pore War

Ever since I started worrying about my skin, I've had issues with my pores.

They suck. Enough said.

After many negotiations and treaty attempts, I am officially declaring war on my pores. NO MORE, I say!

So, I'm looking for advice on how to clear/shrink pores. I'll take anything from simple home remedies to product recommendations. If it's worked for you or someone you know or someone you've heard of, I'm probably willing to try it.

Ready...go!

(Cyber fist-bump of thanks)

Why I Love Flag Day

When I was little, I remember making a conscious effort to use the green crayon fairly often.

Green was not my favorite color. Pink was my favorite color.

But I felt bad for liking pink and not green. I figured green crayons probably didn't get used very often, and that made me sad. I pitied the green crayon. So I tried to use it more than I was naturally inclined to.

To me, Flag Day is the green crayon of holidays. It kind of seems like it should be a big deal, since flags and grass are everywhere. But it sort of just gets forgotten amongst all the other "major" holidays that steal all the attention and leave us with pink trees.

You get what I'm saying? Me neither.

Anyway, sometime in my adolescence, I decided that I was going to love Flag Day.

So, come June 14, I celebrate the good old Stars and Stripes.

And so does my offspring. Observe:



She loves Flag Day too!

We didn't do anything super special to celebrate this super special day. Maybe because it was on a Monday. Maybe because it was on a particularly busy Monday. I don't know. But the lack of outward expression was made up for by the surplus of inward devotion and pride we felt for our grand old flag! I even sang some patriotic songs to Maddy in the car. You'd better believe it. (Fun fact: I love patriotic music.)

Did you celebrate Flag Day? I forgive you, if you didn't. Just don't forget next year! Maybe we'll have a Flag Day party next year. Now that sounds incredibly awesome.

p.s. Flag Day also marked Maddy's 7 month birthday. Whoa. She's getting more mobile everyday, and I'm just waiting for a tooth or two to break through. I'll be sure to keep you posted, since I know you care SO MUCH about my baby's teeth.

p.p.s. If you don't actually care SO MUCH about my baby's teeth, that's okay. Just don't forget about Flag Day next year, and we'll still be friends.

How to open a present with your mouth

Hello, class.

Today we're going to talk about opening presents...with our mouths.

Sometimes, people that really love us, like Grandmas, give us presents for no real reason other than our astounding ability to be the most adorable things on the face of the earth.

When this happens, we get the chance to open those presents. A fun, original way to do this is with your mouth.

Let's try it.

I like to make sure I get sufficient time with the ribbon. Someone went through all the trouble to curl it, so I figure the least I can do is focus on it and ignore the rest of the present for a good 5 minutes or so.





Once Mama decides she's taken enough pictures of you playing with the ribbon, she'll take it away. Bummer.

But don't let it deter you for too long. Go for the present next!







You might find you have some trouble actually getting the paper off this way. Don't worry, Mama will always help you.



So, there you have it. I guess Mom really ends up doing all the work. But before Mom figures out that you can't actually effectively open a present with your mouth, make sure you get as much time as possible gumming your present. She'll think it's cute, anyway.

Come back next time to learn how to perfectly time your need to pee so it happens right when Mama takes the diaper off. Now that's a hoot. No pictures, though.

Ciao!

Necessities

What does a 7 month old baby girl need, other than diapers, a few onesies, a place to sleep, and her mother's chest?

I'm glad you asked.


She needs this hat:

and these sandals:

It's just so obvious to me.

Guess we're going to Old Navy later today.

Oh So Crafty

I follow a fair number of craft blogs. For your convenience, I have defined "craft blog" below.

Craft blog (n): Your chance to show Katie how creative she is not, and what she cannot do.

I am not a crafty individual. This stems mostly from my lack of sewing skills. Which stems from my lack of a sewing machine. Which stems from my lack of sewing skills. Which obviously makes perfect sense.

But yeah, I can't sew. I also can't decide if I ever really want/need to learn how to sew, when there are sew many (haha) other sewing wizards out there.

Sew is a weird word. Sew sew sew.

ANYWAY my point is, most of the posts posted by these crafting blogs I follow tend to require some sewing. So I read them, sigh a non-sewer's sigh, and move on.

But of course, when I see a craft that requires naught but a hot glue gun, Modge Podge, and spray paint, I'm all over it.

And so began my journey to create these boxes. They're from Make It and Love It.
Cute, right? The basic idea is this: cardboard box; spray paint; Modge Podge fabric of choice onto front of box.

So simple. And so needed. I've seriously needed storage boxes for the shelf in my laundry room for a long time. That thing was clutter central. It was the perfect spot to just throw something that didn't really have a home. I so should have taken a before picture of this shelf. But I think my subconscious self, terrified of utter embarrassment, stopped me. So...

YAY!

I ended up changing things up a bit from the original design. I bought cardboard boxes instead of assembling my own. I tried making one on my own and did not love it very much, the poor thing. Buying new, clean packing boxes was pretty cheap and infinitely easier, and I could still pretty them up like I wanted to.

I also ended up changing the spray paint step. I spray painted two of my boxes before I realized it was a five-coats-necessary pain in the tush. For the other two, I slathered on some of the extra semi-gloss we had from painting the house. SO much easier.

And, obviously, I nixed the cut-out handles. EASE is the name of my game.


So, there you have it. Now all the stuff that was thrown onto our shelf is thrown into sort of categorized boxes.

We'll see what I come up with next. If anything.