Question: What do valentines and a blatant marketing ploy have in common?

Remember when I shamelessly stole these from Alyssa last year?



Yep, you guessed it. I'm stealing them again. And the entire time I am making them, I cannot help but wonder at the genius that is Alyssa.

Seriously. These are the bomb.

For the creatively challenged (like me), I thought I would include step-by-step instructions should you decide to steal the idea yourself.

(But if you do and decide to blog about it - please link back to Alyssa. She is the creator of these babies and it's only fair that we fully credit her for them.)


Step One: Take a photo of your child holding their hand out in a fist. Do not worry excessively what the child is wearing or looks like. After all, these photos are going to be handed to a bunch of sticky-fingered kids on Valentine's Day. Add your valentine's day message in photoshop or other similar program.

I ordered mine as press printed cards from the printhouse that I use because I wanted them to be a little better quality than just a 4x6 print. Then I rounded the corners with a punch. (Yes, Marta. I am totally stealing the rounded corner idea from you, my friend.)



Once you have the pictures back, these are the only supplies you will need:



Step Two: Take the x-acto knife and cut a rounded slit above and below your child's hand in the picture.



Step Three: Insert lolly-pop of your choice carefully into the slits. Swear under your breath if you accidentally rip a couple. Be glad you ordered a few extras.



Step Four: Secure lolly on the back with a small piece of tape.



Step Five: Admire your handiwork and, for the billionth time, thank god for Alyssa and her creative genius.


**And for you St. Louis peeps, I've got an offer for you.

Or a shameless marketing ploy.

Whatever you want to call it.

Call me this week and I will come take pictures of your kids for free, add the lettering of your choice, and order the press printed cards for you at MY COST (which, let me tell you, is about what you'll pay for the crappy princess/transformer cards at Target). The only thing I ask is that you let me put my logo and website on the back of the cards in small print.

You know. Getting my business out there and all that?

Plus you can brag to your friends how you had your kids' valentines done by a professional photographer. And be sure to pretend that you have a chef and a live-in masseuse, too, while you're at it. Just so they'll be impressed.

We have to act fast, though. We need to have this done before Friday to give the printer enough time to get the cards shipped and back in our hot little hands.

For the rest of you - happy crafting!

Note to self

When deciding to re-read a certain shameful teen vampire series that rhymes with Mylight, it is wise to not start book four at nine-thirty in the evening.

For, you see, three-fifteen in the a.m. will roll around before you know it, and you will have found yourself unable to put the book down due to the freak show that rhymes with Fenesmee.

And when that six o'clock alarm starts chirping, and you have to drag your exhausted self out of bed, your eyelids unable to support their own weight, you will realize that it was most definitely not worth it.

(Except for the parts about that wild and delicious honeymoon with someone whose name rhymes with Bedward. Mmmm....)

There. That is all.

Repeating history

I cut my teeth and learned to walk to the soundtrack from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and Cary Grant movies.

I roller skated a lot.

But, sadly, I didn't play with dolls much.

I learned how to fight from my four brothers, though none of us was ever really good at it. I climbed a lot of trees. I became a master of hopscotch.

I learned about gardens from my grandma as I ate fresh, crisp peas on desert rose plates in her kitchen. I also learned the joy of butter.

I bathed in an ocean of familial love at noisy family parties. I played Red Rover and Easter Egg with many, many cousins.

I cried and laughed through the awkward pains of junior high. I got a lot of perms and hated my body.

I sang Air Supply songs at the top of my lungs while driving with friends in high school. I went to dances in Jessica McClintock dresses. I was very unsure of myself.

But I pretended otherwise.

I went to college and learned how to stand on my own two feet. I dated a lot of boys. None of whom were quite right.

I met a handsome man one night quite by accident and felt my heart skip a beat. My soul recognized him right away.

And so I said yes. Naturally.

We blinked and became parents of three. I got very little sleep and changed a lot of diapers. I put on Disney movies and took desperate naps on the couch. I went to the park and pushed little diapered bottoms on the swings.

I moved a lot, and made many new friends. I logged hundreds of miles behind a jogging stroller.

I made peanut butter sandwiches and wiped sticky fingerprints off the wall.

I cried when the school bus came for the first time. For about a minute and a half.

I blinked again and found them all in school. When the bus came that day, I cried for about an hour and a half.

Now I find myself pleasantly surprised that the story is repeating itself for them.

With musicals, cousins, desert rose plates, tree climbing, butter, hopscotch, and endless love.

Something tells me that this story will have a happy ending for them, too.

another lesson in humility

My kids leave soggy, wet towels on the floor in their room after a shower.

My kids ignore me for hours, and choose the exact minute I pick up the phone to desperately need all of my attention.

My kids leave a trail of crumbs behind them everywhere they go.

My kids eat way too many pancakes, covered in way too much syrup.

My kids (especially that middle one) track mud obliviously through my just-mopped kitchen.

My kids climb trees and scrape their knees. And then proceed to use no less than 19 bandaids to make it all better.

My kids fight and tease each other.

My kids get their feelings hurt by other kids at school.

My kids somehow always find and consume my stash of the good (and expensive) protein bars.

My kids jump on the trampoline until they are breathless. Then they get up and do it again.

My kids ride bikes in the wintertime with red cheeks and knitted caps.

My kids sometimes make their beds.

My kids love to read.

My kids cannot fall asleep unless they hug and kiss me goodnight.

My kids run hard, play hard, and laugh hard.

My kids do a lot. Some of it gets on my nerves.

My kids have full bellies and rich lives.

Today I was reminded of this as I sat once again in the waiting room at Children's Hospital where McKay goes twice a year for his asthma check up. I sat next to a mama who held a toddler on her lap. The beautiful boy was bald, though not like a newborn - from chemo. She had bags under her eyes and wore her tremendous worry on her sleeve like a thousand-pound anvil. She smiled and thanked me when I handed her something she dropped. My heart ached for this scared little mama and her sick baby. I felt guilty, as I looked over at my robust, healthy boy - totally absorbed in his book and oblivious to the sorrows surrounding us.

Today, once again, my heart is full of gratitude for all the many things my kids can do.

And it aches terribly for the mamas whose kids cannot.

Then and now

Do any of you remember this?



That was my babies in August of 2006. Here are some tidbits about our lives during that time:
  • We lived less than a mile from the beach in sunny, perfect, warm San Diego
  • The Husband did not ever get on a plane, and frequently came home for lunch
  • McKay and Chase were both in elementary school, and Hannah had just started preschool
  • We were both renting and owning a home at the same time (it wasn't pretty)
  • I had a blog that a few people liked to read
  • Hannah's best friend was Sleeping Beauty (and she was sure to remind us of that daily)
  • I had very little time to myself
  • I made lots of cookie dough
  • I drank lots of diet coke
  • The Husband hated his job and was professionally very miserable
  • My kids went to bed at six o'clock every night
  • Chase spent every waking minute hunting lizards
  • I pushed Hannah in the stroller daily on our walk to pick the boys up from school
Here they are, three years later in August of 2009:


And here are some ways our life has changed in the past three years:
  • We no longer live less than a mile from the beach
  • My three kids are in school all day long
  • The Husband is very happy now at his job
  • We are thankfully owning just one home
  • McKay is in his first year of middle school, and Chase and Hannah are both in elementary school
  • Hannah's best friend is no longer Sleeping Beauty
  • Chase spends every waking minute hunting frogs
  • I am now a small business owner
  • The Husband is once again a frequent flier and is never home for lunch (or breakfast, or dinner, come to think of it)
  • My kids still go to bed some days at six o'clock
  • I still make way too much cookie dough
  • I still drink lots of diet coke
  • I have a blog, and a few people like to read it
  • I no longer own or operate a stroller
  • And I have oodles of time to myself
While I'd probably sell my soul to live a mile from the beach again, I wouldn't trade where we are for the world.

Life is good. And it just keeps getting better.

Giving you the best of my brain power

It is not often that I have an idea so profound, so succinct, that it changes my life forever.

I know. Some of you are shocked speechless. You thought I was spewing forth genius all the live long day.

Shut up.

But I figure if Al Gore can invent the internet, I, too, can have a few contributions to my name.

And so it is that I feel compelled to document these things here. You know, as proof that my brain actually once contained some useful cells. And one day when I'm shuffling down a linoleum hallway in some nursing home, toothless and diaper-clad, it will be said that I wasn't always that way.

Idea #1: Treadmill DVR (probably my biggest stroke of genius)



About eight years ago, I decided to stick a DVR in front of my treadmill. I boldly committed myself to taping my shows ONLY on that DVR.

What that commitment meant was this: If I wanted to watch my shows, I had to exercise.

I fully credit that move for helping me to maintain my weight. I would probably be sending in my tape for the Biggest Loser today were it not for that commitment. I hold myself to it, and do not watch my shows on any other TV or DVR. I find that I enjoy my shows so much, it hardly feels like exercise. An hour goes by before I know it and my evenings are freed up to spend time with a husband who cannot stand watching any TV.

And since I just so happen to be slightly fond of the TV, it means I run six days a week. And have done so for eight years.

Idea #2:

The split-end saver



I have been doing this one for so long, I hardly know when it began. Every day after I finish styling my hair, I rub some lotion onto my hands. When the lotion is almost all the way rubbed in, I run my fingers through the ends of my hair. It makes the driest part of my hair soft, and has helped to keep split ends in check. I don't have so much lotion that my hair gets greasy, but just enough to moisturize the dry ends.

I swear by this beauty secret, and will do it until the day I die. Or until I'm diaper-clad in that nursing home. I figure by then, split ends will be the least of my worries, right?

Idea #3:

The dish soap dilemma



When we moved into this house three years ago, I found myself constantly annoyed with the dish soap. Since we use a dishwasher religiously, I don't find myself washing dishes all that often. But when I do, it's a pain to reach under the cupboard and bring the soap out. Plus, then you have to put it away again.

And that's like eight seconds of my life, people.

What's that? You say I could just leave it out all the time?

Um, have you met me? I don't like the ugly things to be left out.

So, I bought an olive oil bottle and filled it with dish soap. It's pretty enough that I don't mind it being out on the counter all the time, and yet provides me the easy access I was longing for, too.


Idea #4: Job charts


I wrote extensively about these puppies in the past. Click over for the full story.

Bottom line: We're still using them today.

Idea #5

World's Best Water Bottle



While I definitely didn't come up with this idea myself, the discovery of this water bottle has changed my life, as well as the lives of several friends I know.

What's the biggest problem we have with water bottles? The condensation that leaves ugly water marks all over the place and soaks your hands every time you take a drink.

This water bottle is genius. There is an inner bottle that is not exposed to any outside air, thus eliminating the pesky condensation. It's nicely marked to help you keep track of the volume you consume, and they offer a lovely pink shade that promotes breast cancer awareness.

(I feel like an infomercial here.)

At first, I could only find them online, but lately I've even seen them in the aisles at Target. Pick up a few today. Your dehydrated body will thank you.

Idea #6

BEST. SNACK. EVER.



I created this snack one day after craving chocolate and peanut butter together, but finding myself in the unfortunate predicament of trying to eat healthy.

You know. That one day. When I tried healthy eating.

It has become my go-to afternoon snack, and I've even gotten the Husband addicted to them. It's simply this: a chocolate rice cake, a dab of peanut butter, and a half a banana. Two hundred calories of bliss.

Yes, I realize that rice cakes went out of style after we all got over the low-fat diets in the 90s, but this snack is fantastic. It's sweet, salty, crunchy, and filling. I combine it with a good 24 ounces from my special water bottle, and the three o'clock munchies are no longer a problem.

Idea #7:

My favorite photos on the wall


While I can only take credit for the idea of the wall, the Husband was the mastermind behind the planning and placement of the arrangement you see here.

But I LOVE my photo wall. It's the first thing you see when you walk through our front door, and it is my favorite room in the whole house. The light in there is spectacular, and the furniture is just right. When I'm going to curl up with a good book and a blanket, this is the room I go to.

In fact, it's where I'm typing right now. Best thing we ever put up on our walls. Ever.


I guess that's it. It appears that I have only had seven good ideas in my lifetime. But considering the brain power I'm sporting, I'd say that's not too shabby.

Not too shabby at all.