A letter to my puppy

A letter to my puppy:

Dear Kaiya,

You made my blood boil this morning.

It took every fiber of my being to refrain from severely injuring you.

You see, these are some of my most favorite shoes.

They are no longer wearable.

You are lucky I was distracted by leaving for the park.

You are more lucky that Dad was gone.

If you weren't so darn cute and cuddly, you might be on Craigslist right now.

Please do not ever eat my shoes again.

Particularly my heels.

Ever. Ever. Ever. Again.

I cannot guarantee the outcome of a repeat offence.

Sincerely,

me.

Give yourself a hug!

My body finally decided to rebel against my habits of the past two weeks.
I guess that watching the Olympics every night and going to bed at 11:30 pm, then waking up at 5:00 am to run is not really the best idea.
Especially combined with ice cream or cookie dough nearly every day.
I've been punished with a sore throat, sneezes, congestion, coughing, and exhaustion.
Serves me right, eh?

Today my dear sweet toddler decided it would be wise to throw my almost brand new smartphone off our balcony.

We live on the third floor.

It landed on concrete.

Screen down.

I almost had a heart attack.

Thankfully, I was smart and had bought a good quality case to protect it.

And protect it it did. Not a scratch or bump.

Phew.

About ten years ago, when I was training at DanceWorks Conservatory, I helped assist some 3-4 year old kids combination classes. After we did a routine, learned a new step, or performed a combination of steps, we would always say "give yourself a hug!" 

Ten years later, I'm reflecting on that seemingly trivial concept of giving yourself a hug. 

Oftentimes I get stuck in a rut of feeling like I'm not quite good enough, especially when it comes to being a wife, mother, and homemaker.

I start to think my family is eating unhealthy because we're not eating 100% organic, because I've made cookies, because we had pizza one night, because sometimes Bubs won't eat anything but chicken nuggets and applesauce, and because we don't always have oodles of veggies with every meal.

I sometimes start to feel inadequate as a mother because I'm not sure how to play with my toddler, because I don't do pinterest worthy activities all day long (or ever), because I'm not always reading to him, because I'm not teaching him the ABC's, because I let him watch Cars while I cook dinner.

I sometimes begin to feel uncreative because my apartment is lacking cutesy decor, because my bedroom has no color scheme or really no decor at all, because Bub's room doesn't have a thing on the walls,  and because sometimes the floor is consumed by cars, toys, and all things toddler.

Do you ever feel like this???
I'm gonna guess you do.
And it sucks.

So for right now, I want you to stop and think about what is really most important:

Happiness. Joy. Family. God.

not the perfectionism of all things Pinterest.

I want to encourage you, and myself, to stop those feelings of negativity, and just 

give yourself a hug. 

Pat yourself on the back.

Strut your stuff.

Proclaim your magnificence.

Chances are, you're not giving yourself enough credit for the things you're doing.

To the wife who feels like a crummy cook: at least you're cooking! Even one home cooked meal a week is better than nothing, and it really is okay if it's not organic.
To the couple who loves to bake cookies: what a great time to bond and enjoy a yummy treat!
To the mother of the screaming children at the grocery store: don't be embarrassed, many of us have been in your shoes and understand how you feel.
To the woman who gets tired of cooking and is stressed out: pizza for dinner has magical healing powers!
To the mother of a picky eater: if at first you don't succeed, try try again. Someday he'll realize the value of good food.
To the wife who feels like she can't keep up with life: it's okay to take a break and do something for you.
To the mother who feels like a mean mom for disciplining her kids: thank you for teaching them boundaries and limits.
To the woman who feels inadequate, unconfident, and unloved: guess again, you always have the love of God, and chances are, your family loves you too.

It's okay if your house isn't always spotless.
It's okay if you don't shop organic.
It's okay if you don't wear the latest trends.
It's okay if your child isn't perfect.
It's okay if you eat out for a meal.
It's okay if you don't have the cutest home.
It's okay if your kids are a little crazy.
It's okay if you're not the fastest, strongest, best, compared to everyone else.
It's okay if your life is not a Pinterest perfect story.

Please, for one moment, think about all the good you are doing, all the happiness you are bringing, and all the love you are feeling around you. 

Consider your accomplishments. 

Focus on your successes. 

Revel in the joy that is living, breathing, loving, and belonging to a family. 

And by all means, GIVE YOURSELF A HUG!!!

Emergency Haircut

For some unknown reason, I've been drowning in a blogging funk.
Perhaps it was the mere craziness of moving while attempting to stay afloat in many other responsibilities.
When everything calmed down, I wanted to blog, but I couldn't think of anything good to write about.

Moving? Don't want to beat a dead horse.
The heat? Too cliche.
Olympics? I couldn't share anything you didn't already know.
My curtain drama? Perhaps, but I feel I've been complaining a lot lately and need something more lighthearted.

Lucky for me, the perfect blogging story took place last night. In our living room. While watching the Olympics.

Rewind to several hours earlier in the day when a conversation took place:
me: I really need my hair trimmed. Would you rather me pay $20 to get it cut, or just have you do it?
him: Fine. I'll do it.

My dear friends: husbands in Chiropractic school are meant to be Chiropractors. Not hairdressers.

After I gave him (what I believe to be), a very nice haircut, it was my turn. Of course he forgot the conversation we had earlier, or maybe he purposefully put it out of his mind, and with some serious prodding he finally took up the shears.

Red flag #1: "I have no idea how to do this".
Red Flag #2: "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you have layers. How am I supposed to cut that?"
Red Flag #3: "So, is there supposed to be like a 1 inch or less difference between the layers?"
Red Flag #4: *hack, hack, hack, hack* silence. "how's it coming, babe?" "uhhh...."
Red Flag #5: "So remember the first time you cut my hair? And it wasn't very good? Well, this is the first time I'm cutting your hair, so it might not be very good..."


After what seemed like an eternity, I, thankfully, reached back to feel how much had been cut off. I'm not entirely sure whether I gasped or screamed, but I quickly urged him to stop. He was more than content to do so.

source

For the protection of myself and my husband, I did not take a picture. 

Just imagine 3 distinct layers. In three straight lines. An inch above each other. No blending.
Lucky for me, our downstairs neighbor is LDS, has a hubby in Chiro school, and is also a hairdresser.
She got a late night phone call:

"So, uh, I wanted to save some money so I had my hubby cut my hair and uh, can you fix it?"
"How bad is it?"
"Well, I won't wear it down until it's fixed..."
"Ooh. Yeah, that's kinda bad. Come on down and I'll fix it." 


At 9:30 pm, I got an emergency hair cut.
His parting words as I headed downstairs: "tell her it's not my fault!"
I think he felt bad. Maybe a little embarrassed. But I was most definitely not mad. In fact, I was giggling pretty hard. So was my friend who fixed it.
I also felt much better after she told me stories of many other wives doing the exact same thing.

Moral of the story with my hair?: 

Always get it done professionally. 

Instead of trimming off about 1/2-1 inch like I had planned, it's now about 5 inches, or more, shorter.


And just a little reminder to myself: when messing with my hair, in my experience, trying to save a buck by doing it at home typically results in an emergency trip to the salon to get it fixed, which then becomes more expensive than had I gone to the salon in the first place.

I know because my hair has been bright yellow-orange before.

Dear hairdressers: 

I promise I will never cut or color my hair at home again. 

But it all worked out in the end, because now I have a super cute haircut that I absolutely love! Now, to just get it colored...

Kinda gives an idea of what it looks like.

I hate self portraits.

8 Things I've been thinking about this week

12 days since my last post.

Why yes, I did fall off the face of the Earth.

I landed amid a week long mess of moving apartments.
Remind me that I never want to move again.
Then remind me that I have to wait until after our school-is-over-move-to-a-new-state move.

8 Things I've been thinking about this week:

1. How it really really sucks when I try so dang hard to save money but then it ends up being more expensive in the end because something fell through. That happened to me twice in the past 5 days. Urgghh!!

2. How those last two odds and ends boxes of moving in are so annoying! Can't live with them, can't live without them. Perhaps into storage they go?

3. How I have mopped my kitchen floor 4 times in 7 days. One of which was hands and knees Cinderella style. Why are my feet are still getting black??

4. How 65 degrees feels like arctic after 7 days of 105 degrees.

5. How much I really, really, love our new apartment!!

6. How I have figured out the "Perfect Cookie Dough." It really is quite perfect and I really am quite proud of it.

7. I'm also proud that I ran 7.5 miles this morning. A new PR for me in distance. Wahoo! Can I go eat more of my perfect cookie dough now?

8. How I really need to write a more eloquent, detailed, and funny, entry (or two) about our moving adventures and other silly things going on in my life. For now, I need to catch up on sleep and think about something other than cleaning!!!!

p.s. my mom is in town and it's awesome. :-)

My Disaster of a Life.

Last week I had a most wonderful and desirable vacation trip sans kid and dog to the beautiful island of St. Lucia.


HA! ...in my dreams.
And then there was a tornado and we had to take shelter and I had to carry my child out of the zip tent-like room, where he was getting soaking wet from rain, into the shelter room while he was still sleeping in his pack n' play. Then right before the storm hit, the mom of the daughter I was babysitting came home and said we needed to leave. Right then. During the storm.

Oy.

In a weird way it might be kind of like my life lately.
I must admit, while I may seem perfectly happy and hunky dory on the outside, on my inside there is a seriously turbulent storm going on.
Today is not the day for details of that.
Just know that home to me does not seem like home much at all anymore. Except for the house.
I'm not talking about my current home-home with my hubby and our baby and his puppy.

Moving on.

Literally, moving.
This is what my life has been for about 2 weeks now:

We're moving.
Can you tell?
I hope so. Because if I was really this messy I'd probably die and never come back.

Why yes, there are two pairs of heels on the ground because I can never decide what to wear to church until the last possible second before walking out the door.

Anyone who knows me should know that I really hate living in a messy home.

For more than 2 days.

It drives me crazy. Psycho. Insane.

 

And when my kitchen looks like this?

Chicken nuggets,  pasta, cold cereal, and whatever else takes 2 minutes and 2 dishes or less to prepare.

Unless it includes chocolate.

If you've never played Puerto Rico, I highly recommend it.
Better yet, come over, but not today, and we'll teach you how to play.
But beware, you will probably lose to Mr. Man because he is Puerto Rico extraordinaire.

I really hope your house looks like this when you move.
Please just nod your head and agree that it does.
It will make me feel better.

Knick Knacks.
Junk.
Clutter.
This shelf is a prime example of reason #428 Why I hate moving: the knick knacks that don't fit into any other category so they just sit there and clutter your counters and floors until you finally toss them all in a box to figure out later.


An old phone case, a lint roller, some glasses cleaner, sunscreen, and glow sticks? Seriously.
Can't I just throw it all away?

Instead of bravely attacking the filth, I am cowering in the corner of a clean table with my laptop, some ice cream, and a cup of water.

And just in case you didn't get the full effect of our lack of food, 

Exhibit A:

Anyone have a recipe with soy sauce, apple juice, sour cream, and olives? 

Nobody?

You may also be thinking "man, she really needs to clean her fridge!" 

Well, it's true. I really do need to clean my fridge.

And my oven.

And my dishwasher.

And my microwave.

And my sink.

And my counters.

And my bathrooms.

And my whole apartment actually.

Would you like to help?

Instead of buckling down and getting to work, I decided to have a nice, big, bowl of this:

I feel better now.

And see this?
My pre-lunch snack.
A from-scratch, fudgy, chocolately brownie, chock-full of chopped oreos, layered with peanut butter then a marshmallow fluff/peanut butter icing.
Rich, heavenly, chocolate in your mouth.

And finally, because of those sinful indulgences, I've been doing lots, and lots of this:

One day Mr. Man unexpectedly surprised me with some sweet running shorts.

But since I can't pay full price for anything, we shopped around later that day and found these "on sale" (mis-marked and price honored). 

Amen. Hallelujah. I love running shorts.

I logged 17.9 miles last week, 6.5 of which were while out of town, I'm proud of myself.

Now if I can just learn how to eat like a runner, we might start making progress...

Please enjoy your Monday, everyone. 

And be completely, utterly, unmistakably, proud of me for pictating and blogging my disaster of a life. 

I think I need a nap.

Apartment Dwelling

There are a few major perks to living in a big apartment complex.

1. Anything that breaks is only a phone call away from being fixed, and you don't have to foot the bill.
2. There is usually free access to a nice gym, pool, tennis courts, basketball courts, etc.
3. There's lots of people which is good for: people watching, feeling un-alone, and noise.

Okay, so maybe that last one is not a major perk.
But for me sometimes it is.

You see, I really enjoy people watching. I enjoy creating a life story or background on someone. Have you ever sat in a restaurant and narrated other diner's conversations? It's actually quite fun, and entertaining. Especially when one girl shows up with about 16 guys. That really happened once.

In honor of us moving to a new, big, apartment complex in less than 10 days (should I start packing yet?), here are some of the unique characters that dwell in our cul-de-sac.

Short, awkward, grey-haired Grandma. This lady really is quite nice. But also rather awkward. Mostly because her huge dog tried to eat my puppy and bite my baby one afternoon yet Grandma is still convinced he wouldn't hurt a flee. She wears bermuda shorts or capris with black ballet flats and round, wire, glasses. She drives a baby blue Hyundai and got upset when the Frat Boys were picking someone up and blocked her parking space for two minutes.

Frat Boys. I'm not entirely sure how many occupy one apartment. Sometimes I see one, sometimes I see three or four. They're not overly loud, except when they have a window open at lunch time and belch deeper than the ocean. It was only a little gross. They can often be seen hanging out by their car, drinking beer, and skateboarding around. At least one or two of them have girlfriends that enter, or exit, the apartment at random times, most recently seen exiting at 7 am dressed in his clothes. Hmm.

The Hispanic Couple. I haven't actually really talked to these folks, but we've shared a wave or a brief "hello" in passing. They seem like nice people. However, they have a dog that is quite literally taller than their waist. They are both pretty short. The dog is beautiful, but also very strong and somewhat scary. Both them and us are a little wary of their dog eating our puppy, so we keep our distance when out for a walk.

The Interesting Kid. We had only been living here for a short time when a random kid, maybe 12-14 years old, struck up a conversation with me:
"Do you have internet?"
yes.
"Can I come use it?"
Why?
"To check my email."
You're going to have to ask your parents.
"Well, my mom isn't home, and my dad grounded me..."
Then I'm sorry, you can't use it.


Or something like that. It was pretty awkward, very odd, and a little bit hilarious. He can be seen riding his scooter around the cul-de-sac or on his bike in the neighborhood. I haven't talked to him since.

The Couple Next Door. I really actually like these people! The live directly across from our door and have a small, wiry, dog that I can't remember the breed of. For the longest time we weren't sure if they were married, dating, roommates, or siblings. We don't know their names or their relationship status, but we now assume they're dating. She is really nice and very friendly. He likes shooting guns and works as a security officer somewhere. I think.

and our favorites:

The Car Salesman and Pharm Rep. To be honest, we have no idea what their actual occupations are, but based on their appearances, this is who they are to us. He is so friendly and very nice. He always strikes up a brief conversation in passing and he drives a beautiful suburban *drool*. She is always, always, always, dressed to the nine's, and usually not skanky. But also not modest. Neither of us had seen someone pull it off so well, but she seems to, which is why she's a Pharm Rep. Also, I've never talked to her. They used to have a dog, but she was put to sleep from old age and a tumor in her brain that made her blind.

As you can see, Mr. Man and I are SO, super outgoing and overly friendly and gracious to anyone we don't know!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hahaha, we're really not.
In reality, we are very friendly and very nice people, but I think we're also both shy when it comes to meeting new people and striking up conversations. Weird, right?

Right. But you don't have to agree with me.

Bubs is the most friendly and outgoing of all of us! He never fails to wave and say "hi!" to anyone and everyone, including empty cars. He also has been known to run up to complete strangers and hug their leg.

I can't wait to see what our new place brings us!
Hopefully less dog poop, less smokers, and better grass.

A lesson in dipping chocolate.

This year on the Fourth of July, hubby and I spent a few minutes chatting about our past Fourth's. I know you're just dying to read a recap, so here ya go! You can thank me later.

1st: We were in Twin Falls at the Dodds annual 4th of July BBQ bash. We spent the morning at a pancake breakfast and kid's parade, the afternoon playing on a giant bouncy house water slide, and the evening grilling burgers with extended family. After which we, of course, lit off an abundance of fireworks. It was the perfect way for me to be welcomed into a new family.

2nd: We invited as many of the Dodds in Utah over to our "conjoined" house, I'll spare the details, and once again fired up the grill and fireworks. Hubby played grill master for the first time and loved it. I played hostess and chef with all other side dishes. We had a wonderful time and even saw the Stadium of Fire fireworks show while parked under an overpass on University Ave. We flipped a U-ee the second it was over and beat all traffic home. Another fabulous fourth. 

3rd: This time we were in a new town. Thankfully, St. Louis is party capital Midwest, at least in my opinion. I coerced my parents into coming for a visit, so we grilled it up with them, then hauled the crew to the Arch to visit Fair St. Louis. So awesome!! We saw the last half hour of the air show, walked around to all the booths, enjoyed a free concert from Montgomery Gentry, and saw the most spectacular fireworks show I've ever seen, all under the Arch. It was glorious and thrilling. I also saw more people crowded and smushed together than I've ever seen in my life. Seriously, walls of people. It was insane. So was traffic. I try to forget that part. 

This year was our 4th Fourth together and we stayed a little more low key, but still had a great time. 

The morning dawned bright and early at a whopping 8:30 am, the latest we've slept in since....well, probably since we had a baby. It was lovely. Then I whipped up an amazing breakfast of french toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs. Bubs and I took a leisurely walk around the oven neighborhood, and within minutes we were hot and sweaty in the balmy 99 degrees. During his nap time I threw together a lovely masterpiece of dessert. And this is where your free lesson in dipping chocolates comes in:

Do NOT add water-based food coloring to melted chocolate!!!!!!!

Why?

Because your beautifully smooth, creamy, nice and melty, chocolate will turn to a stiff frosting right before your eyes. 

I must admit, once I got over the horror of what was occurring, it was a little cool to see the consistency change so fast. 

In the end, I ended up with cake bites that were not so lusciously dipped and smooth, but rather more of a unique, sorta gloppy, almost frosted looking cake bite. I was only slightly disappointed.

Oh yeah, and gel food coloring is just as much water based as liquid. 

So, now that I learned the hard way, I know if I want pretty, colorful, cake bites, I have to splurge on the pre-colored dipping chocolate.

My life is complicated.

Here's my creation!

After I finished the cake bite disaster flag, I moved on to my next endeavor: pie.
Now, I have absolutely no idea where my sudden desire to be cutesy and festive came from, but evidently, I had a strong desire for such.
A quick search of google images prompted me to make a star on my pie.

My other pie was really cute too, for no apparent reason, but it was not patriotic so it didn't make the cut. Or maybe I didn't take a picture. Who knows. Use your imagination.

I must say, this fruity pie was quite spectacular. I found my all time favorite pie recipe from Our Best Bites, and I haven't looked back since. Especially because it is just so darn versatile. I mean, the same base for a vanilla cream fruit pie as for a chocolate peanut butter banana? Mmmm.

Have you ever tried putting a 2 year old and an 18 month old together for a photo shoot?

Don't.

You won't have any luck. 

I can almost guarantee it.

They had no desire to look at me when I called their names.

Or clucked.

Or chirped.

Or danced around like a crazy woman.

My awesome friend made this creation with fruit. It was so fun to have such festive food!

My child + water = endless fun and happiness

Especially when a hose is involved.

Except for the poor onlookers, (sorry!)

Oh yeah, this is also the only picture I got all day where he was actually looking at me and holding still. 

They most definitely enjoyed spraying each other and waving the water everywhere.

These kiddos really love playing together.
They're pretty awesome with each other's names too.
All day Bubs was saying "Na-nuh?" and when we arrived he knew exactly who "Na-nuh" was!
She also used to call him "Buh-lake" and it was about the cutest thing ever.

We enjoyed BBQing and playing water balloon games with some good friends. It was our first Fourth without family, but when you make good enough friends, they sure feel like family! 

It was also the hottest, driest, most fireworks-less Fourth I've seen, but I was happy to watch the Macy's day display on TV. I know in the future we will be in a position where hubby won't have to study, baby won't have to sleep, and fireworks will be legal (and not banned due to drought!), so we can have even more fun!

For this year, we still had an amazing day!

If you just read this entire post, please, give yourself a hug and go find something more productive to do. 

teehee, Happy Summer everyone!