To the craft gods,

To the craft gods in the sky that like to sit on their clouds and mock us unsuspecting little humans that cannot complete a craft if our lives depended on it. I would like to announce that while you were up there being fed grapes and artisan breads, I went to Walmart. I was on a mission and nobody would deter me! I marched right to the aisle that I have been a virgin to for quite some time. I took a deep breath and shoved my cart down the aisle like I knew just what I was looking for. I grabbed a paint brush, paint, and a small bottle of "modge podge." I felt empowered. I felt that this was the day- the day that I would actually finish a project on my own. I shook my fist at the sky and could almost hear you mocking me. I knew that you thought I would fail as I had every time before. I had lost battle after battle but yesterday was different. I had strapped on my armor for battle and was not going to return empty handed. When I got home, I quickly put the little ones down for a nap so nothing would distract me. It is hard for a warrior to fight a good fight with a toddler tugging at her leg. I set it up and, by the looks of it, you would have guessed I had done it 100 times before. But you knew I hadn't, didn't you? You knew the insecurity I was feeling as I started to stroke the wood with the paint color that I was still questioning. You chuckled as I tried to put on the vinyl letters and it started to pull away in all the wrong places. I could almost hear you roar with laughter as I huffed in frustration when the my blocks were sticking together and I had to go back and do touch up paint. BUT- all of your mocking and laughter was in vain.

That's right succas! I did it! I completed my projects. And they are even presentable enough to placed on some cute little shelf made by one of your crafty servants. So go eat rocks. I proved you wrong. I am no Hercules that is striving to join you in the craft paradise where the acrylic paint flows like wine and scrapbook paper adorns the fruited trees. I simply set out to prove you wrong. I set out to prove to myself that I could finish a craft project within the walls of my own home all by myself. Mission accomplished. I think this calls for a celebration dance around the island with Tylie in tow!

Note to self:

Dear Self,

You really need to understand that you are not a crafty person. You were not born with the innate ability to create darling little items to delicately place on the mantle. Please stop trying! Leave it to others who's natural calling in life is to create. It is your calling to support them in their talents and purchase their overpriced painted 2x4's for a ridiculous price. Every year when "Super Saturday" comes around you make the same mistake. You grab the pen nestled so neatly on that clipboard and start signing up as if you were simply placing an order at a fast food window. You ALWAYS forget that you have to actually do something to get the product that is pictured on the page. It never fails that when you show up on the morning of the activity, you are inevitably overwhelmed when the reality of what you signed up for hits you. Beads of sweat start to pour down your face when they place the stack of raw lumber in front of you, hand you a paint brush, smile sympathetically at you (because they know your crafting ability) and shake their head as they walk away. Your friends can't help but laugh as you sit there with paint from your head to your toenails and fresh splots of "modge podge" on your brand new pants. You know that your husband is expecting you home within about an hour but there you sit, four hours later, with only one project done and three to go! You cringe everytime your cell phone starts to sing because you know there is a baby at home waiting for you but the option of taking your things home and finishing there simply does not exist for you. You do not own one bottle of paint and the only tools or sandpaper around are the ones resting in Jake's large tool box in the garage. You begin to feel like a real fool when you look around and realize you are the only one left at the table surrounded by cute little finished blocks waiting to dry so they can be taken home and set next to all the other adorable frames that your friends have on their shelves. You look at your own unfinished blocks and wonder to yourself how it is possible that you could botch up something that was precut, prestamped, and vinyl lettering. You know that you will eventually give up, make up some excuse that your husband will kill you if you don't hurry home, and then slump out of the cultural hall with and armload of unfinished wood that will be set on a sad shelf of unfinished projects to laugh about at a later date. Why do you do this to yourself? Why can't you just go and eat and socialize while the rest of the talented women do what they are best at? This can't be good for your self esteem. So next year, when that cute little clipboards ends up in your lap, leave the pen alone and pass it on! It will save at tree, save others for feeling sorry for you, save you money, and save yourself a whole lot of shelf room because that spot designated for unfinished projects is just about filled!

Stinking Pigs!!!

I swore off bacon, banned all ham from my fridge, and turned my nose up as I passed the pork chops in the grocery store. I have stayed away from farms and we purposefully avoided the pig barn at the state fair. Even with all my precautions my own poor little pigs got the swine flu this week. It started out with a small sore throat and blew into a raging fever last weekend. I was sitting in the germ infested instacare early saturday morning fully equipped with face masks only to have my worst fear realized. How is it possible that I avoided it when I was out of the home working with the general public but now that I am home more than ever- we got it? I will tell you how- stinking Thanksgiving Point and their cutesy little fair Cornbelly's. As much as I want to blame it on those grimy little sty living creatures we saw, I have a feeling that it was all the other little pigs running around coughing on everything and kindly leaving the germs to attack their next victim. I really want to get on a soap box and lecture on how stupid parents should not take their kids out (especially to a place that is crawling with immuno-deficient toddlers) if they are sick. BUT- I have to admit that I did not know that Tylie was getting sick and I am afraid that I passed it on to one of our cute neighbors. I have been so paranoid that poor Tylie has not left the house since Saturday until just yesterday I let her out for a walk. And now my little Mason has it. I am watching him closely but it seems to be a very mild case. So- I think that now since I have traveled this road and realized that I am not going to be losing my children any time soon, I will allow bacon back in the house. But if I hear of one more pig causing an uproar, I am going to issue and extermination order on all snot nosed, slop eating mongers!

Good intentions

I was having one of my catch up chats with my sister the other night when some how the conversation turned to being grateful. As I talked to her I realized how truly terrible I am at letting those around me know how grateful I am for what they do for me. My sister is nothing short of amazing when it comes to remembering those in her life. She remembers every event from birthdays to weddings and you are almost guaranteed to get a card in the mail so you know that she is thinking of you. I am just waiting for the day when I get a card from her celebrating the day my first baby tooth came in. She is just that good. She is impeccable when it comes to Christmas cards and her birthday gifts are rarely a day late. (This is really saying something since she lives in Vegas and probably has the best excuse out of all of us to forget.) If you have met her in the grocery store or ran into her at a gas station- you will probably get a Christmas card from her. Everytime I get one of these special little envelopes in the mail, I quietly wish that I could be more like her. I often think about people in my life and wonder how they are doing but I never take that next step to find out. I hear of stories about people getting a little note and how much it means to them. I know that this is true because it really does mean a lot when britt and rick take the time to write a little message and send it off. I have all the best intentions in the world but rarely follow through on those thoughts.And you know what they say about good intentions and the road to hell. It is a talent that I long for. I am on a quest right now to try to become a better person, a nicer person, a more thoughtful person. I am trying desperately to find the good in all people but the more I do this, the more I realize how truly insignificant I am. I start to look at my neighbors and I see these beautiful talented women. I look down the street and recognize that I am surrounded with amazing people. They are buisness women, pastry chefs, professional photographers, crafty extrodinaires, food storage gurus,singers, dancers, and pagent queens. I swear that you cannot live in my neighborhood until you have passed the bar of greatness that comes with our subdivision. Maybe it is in the HOA and I missed that part when I signed my loan docs. Please do not think that I am fishing for compliments by writing all of this. I do not expect to look on here tomorrow and find a slew of comments trying to buoy me and and convince me that I have talents. I know that I have a lot of talents. I am really good at dancing around the island with Tylie while primary songs play in the backround. I am awesome and making a huge pot of soup for Jake so he can eat until he is sick. I make really good breadsticks and I can master about any puzzle that you put in front of me. But I like to reognize others for the talents I wished I had and strive to be better in hopes that one day I will affect someone the way that others have affected me. I do wish I could be a pastry chef, a crafty genius, or a master photographer. I will just continue to enjoy from others what I cannot do myself. And whenever I get another card in the mail and the guilt begins to set in again, I will grab a breadstick, get out my 2000 piece puzzle, and go to work until I begin to feel good about myself again.

Mason's modeling agent has asked us to work on his "distant" look. I think that he has got it down.

Tylie has been patiently waiting for the fall for one reason alone- so she could go "appleing". My parents as well as my grandparents have these beautiful apple trees that were loaded with apples. It has been hard to explain to Tylie that we had to wait for the first frost because she wanted me to pin point a time and I could not. The waiting finally came to and end last weekend as she was able to pluck those juicy little treasures off the tree. Since then we have had apple pie, apple roasted pork roast, carmel apples, apple sundaes, and peanut butter and apple sandwiches. I am about "appled" out and I still have about 2 boxes full to the brim. I am planning a trip around the neighborhood to alleviate my pressure of trying to use them before they go bad. I had big plans to dry them and put them in food storage but I don't have a dehydrator and the oven way is too time consuming. If anyone has any suggestions of what to do with them, I would LOVE to hear it. Otherwise- I will probably show up at your door with apples and if you don't take them, I will sneak out at night and leave a burning bag of rotten apples on your doorstep, ring the door bell, and then stand back and snicker at you as you stomp it out. Thank you grandma and grandpa for allowing Tylie to live out her summer dream. We love the apples and we love to spend time with you.

Our loss

Last weekend we spent all day Saturday at Jake's parent's house doing some organizing and cleaning in preparation for winter to come. I was in the house cleaning some old bottling jars when my nephew, Levi, came in and delivered some devastating news. He had found the body of a bird on the sidewalk and we all needed to hold a ceremony before he laid him in his final resting place- the flower bed. With long faces and somber hearts we joined the procession.

Levi took a moment to say a few words before we all quietly bowed our heads for one last moment of silence.

Then the time came to give the bird the respect he deserved. The kids all took turns digging a part of the hole and Emma gently laid the bird down.

As Levi was putting the final scoops of dirt in the hole, Luke looked at me with a very solemn face and said "Man, I am going to miss that bird!"

And that was that. It was back to playing "hide and seek" and I don't think the bird was mentioned again for the rest of the day. This is a cute little story that I couldn't help but put it on here. I almost feel guilty joking about it though because I found out a few days ago that one of my friends that I haven't talked to in years took his own life last month. It has been quite an eye opener as I have looked back and evaluated my own life. I can only thank my Father in Heaven for all the blessings that are continuously poured out upon me. My heart breaks whenever I hear something like this happening. I struggle to understand how someone can feel so low and that their self-worth can be completely wiped out. It makes me realize how much of a grasp Satan has on this world. My whole life I have been taught how much my Heavenly Father and my Savior love me. I have felt that love in very poignant moments of my life and could never mistake it for anything else. It is a feeling that everyone on this earth should experience. I hope that my friend has felt that love now. If nothing else- I hope he finds self-worth and a knowledge of what our Savior did for him. I hope he learns that he was included in that Plan of Happiness and our Savior is extending his arms out to him out of pure love. I pray that he can find that validation that he wasn't able to find while he was on this earth.

Mason's First Birthday!

My little baby boy turned one! Here are some pics from that fun weekend!