Who Am I?

Well, inquisitive reader, let me answer. I am a wife, a mom and I have chronic bad hair. I like made uppy words and Unnecessary Capitalization. If you know who the guy in the bottom right picture is, you're probably my best friend. Also, I own several Edward dolls which I write about HERE. No, I don't use drugs. By the way, if your love canned tomatoes, visit my stash HERE.

Friday, November 15, 2013

Keyboard Confessions: the for old times sake edition

Once upon a time, I used to write these inane and random lists.  It was super fun and therapeutic and then life got busy and I lost my blog mojo so I stopped.  Today, I'm picking it back up again.

1.  I prefer to only wear fun socks.  Fun = patterned and wild
2.  I haven't touched up my toenail polish in about two months.  They are pretty manky looking.  However, I wear fun socks so no one knows.
3.  The lady at the post office knows me now, or really she knows my "That's Sew Rad" return address label thingies.  I feel sort of famousy.
4.  Today in homeschool, it's "Home Ec" day, meaning my kids are doing thorough cleaning.  You know what?  Fractions and finding prepositions can wait.  These kids need to learn how to properly vacuum and clean the toilet.  Priorities, people.
5.  We went to the library and checked out huge stacks of books.  My first thought was:  how much cash do I have in my wallet to cover the late fees because inevitably, we will lose track of one or two of these.
6.  My library is run by thuggy women.  Like, they might have shanks in their pockets.  They look like they've spent some time in the slammer.  It is, after all, Durham.
7.  I've given up on giving up Diet Coke.  I just don't care anymore, people.  Probably you don't care to hear my attempts to give up Liquid Nectar either.
8.  I've decided to make peace with dust.  It can come and live in my house, I won't mess with it.  There's just way more important stuff to do.  Also, see #4.
9.  My girls received Rainbow Looms from their favorite person.  That means there are rubber bands ALL OVER THE PLACE.
10.  Also, they've both given me about 14 rainbow loom bracelets.  It kind of make me miss jelly bands.  And Keds.

Peace out.

Friday, June 28, 2013

I've been making stuff that's sew rad!!

Ok, so, mildly cheesy blog title.  Also the name of my new shop!  That's Sew Rad.  After all these months, nay- YEARS of saying I'd open an etsy shop, I've finally done it.

It all started with this guy:

It's a camper toaster cover (hence why there is a toaster in the picture) and it's super swell!  Definitely a conversation piece.  Can be customized for a variety of colors.

There's also these:

iPad sleeves, which are super fun, and continues with the whole camper theme.  As if just carrying an iPad around doesn't make you the envy of passersby, this sleeve is guaranteed to make them EVEN MORE JEALOUS.  And isn't that the point? No?  Hmm.  Also can be customized to a variety of colors.

And for those who aren't keen on making ostentatious gestures such as having large campers resting on their countertops, or carrying them around so that others will be jealous, I've got these:

Camper keychains, which are so sweet.  Perfectly sized, lightweight.  Very fun way to tell the world "THESE ARE MY KEYS."  Twelve different colors to choose from.  Great gift idea, even if it's just a gift for yourself!  To view them, visit my shop!

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Addie

Today is my baby's birthday.  She's not a baby anymore, as she so huffily reminds me.  But, as you parents understand, she's my baby.  And today she is 9.  She's a sassy britches.  She's scary smart.  She's also scary air headed at the same time.  She's stinking hilarious.  She writes stories.  She writes songs.  Soon, she'll be asking for her own blog and wow everyone with her brilliance and wit.  She got it all from her mom, of course.

Anyways, eons ago, I wrote this post when she turned four.  And even though that was five years ago, I can't improve on this story.  It's all for her.  So, without further ado, this is the birth of Addie.

******


It was a quiet night, when suddenly I was awake, gripping my bulging belly. 
“I think I’m in labor!” I cried to Lance.  I glanced at the clock.  A red 3:30 glared at me.  I laboriously made my way out of the bed to the phone and called the hospital. 
“What do I do?”  I asked the nurse.  “I’ve never been in natural labor.”  I listened to her advice and after thanking her, I hung up.  Turning to Lance I repeated what she said. 
“I should take some Tylenol and a bath, but since I hate baths I think I’ll take a shower and then I’m going to do the dishes and vacuum the floor.”  Lance blinked groggily at me. 
“You’re going to what?”
“Shower, dishes, floor.”  I was determined as all psycho nesting mothers are.
So after a shower, I washed the dishes and Lance vaccuumed the floor. We sat and timed my contractions.  They were only 8 minutes apart, but the pain was getting worse.
Lance called his parents around 5:00 a.m.  “You’d better come on, it looks like the baby will be here soon.” 
Lance convinced me to lay down again, assuring me the house was clean enough for company.  I managed to nap between contractions but the pain was so intense that I had to get up on my hands and knees and breathe through the contractions.  My main fear was not getting an epidural. 
I convinced Lance to call a lady in our church to come over and stay with Emma so we could go to the hospital.  The pain was now taking my breath away. That epidural was my prize now.  Sally, a church member, arrived at 7:15 and after showing her Emma’s clothes, breakfast and other pertinent items, we made our way to the car.
I had fancied a Bojangles biscuit before heading to the hospital, but the four times I had to stop my tour of the kitchen with Sally to get on my hands and knees and breathe convinced me to head to the hospital NOW.
We made our way to the delivery ward with me in a wheelchair and my pillow, suitcase and video camera all perched precariously next to my bulging belly contracting all the while.  Passing by the Admitting desk, the clerk took one look at me and said, “Go on, honey.  Daddy can come back down and fill out the paperwork.”  I grunted out a thanks and we were off again. 
We made it up to the tiny labor ward and the two nurses sighed as they saw us.  Apparently, there were four other women in labor and only the two of them.  I glanced at my watch.  7:30 a.m.  Lance went to finish my admittance paperwork while I slowly got undressed and put on the sexy gown the nurse handed me.  I think I asked her at least four times if I could have an epidural now, please.  She called my doctor as the other nurse checked my dilation.  I was now dilated 5 centimeters.  The nurse on the phone said my doctor was on his way, and that the blessed anesthesiologist was also on his way, that he would be here within the hour.  It was now 8:00 and Lance hurriedly rushed into the room.  I will never ever ever forget the expression on his face as the nurses checked me again and said, “We have no time for an epidural because you are at a 10 and you need to push.”
I vaguely remember crying, because the idea of natural labor terrified me.  I had never prepared for that, never wanted that, didn’t take the stupid classes that taught me how to breathe.  This was just all wrong.
The meaner of the two nurses approached me and got right in my face.  She told me that she was going to help me bring this baby into the world and would tell me what to do.  I think I apologized for the way my breath smelled, I can’t quite remember.  But I do know that she was mean and bossy enough to tell me when to breathe and as she was being mean and bossy, the other nurse was getting the room ready for our little girl.  We kept glancing at the door, hoping my doctor was going to be there, but it was just us.  
Suddenly I felt, horror of horrors, that I was going to poop on myself, the fear of all laboring women.  I said, “Um, I think something’s happening…” and suddenly I felt the hot splash of my water breaking.
The next moment, I felt the need to push like never before.  My child’s head shot out and the nurses were shouting to me to NOT push.  I remember asking, “HOW DO YOU NOT PUSH?!”  They said, “Pant like a dog!”  So I panted like a dog.  I do remember glancing up at Lance who had his mouth hanging open and eyes as big as saucers and shouting “DO SOMETHING!”  Poor Lance.
I looked up at that ceiling and panted like a dog.  Occasionally animal sounds came out of my mouth and I just HAD to push, y'all ladies know.  Finally after this went on FOREVER the nurse said, “Ok, you can push.”   And my doctor walked in. 
One push later, a squirming, icky baby emerged, much to my relief. 
It was 8:32 a.m. and Adelyn Morgan Murphy had just breathed for the first time. 
She was a honkin huge baby.  8 lbs 11 ozs.  21 inches long.  All natural, not one bit of drugs, not counting the Tylenol from the dingbat nurse who told me that would help. 
Addie is now four today.  She is the funniest, blondest, wiriest, sweetest, most ornery kid there is.  She can make you laugh, make you pull your hair out, make you sit and cuddle with her and try to mentally burn in the moments when she wraps her arms around your neck and squeezes. 
This morning she got out of bed, padded her way across the room to me and tugged on my shirt.  “Mama, is it my birthday?” she asked in her raspy morning voice.
I scooped her up, squeezed her tight and said “Yes.”
******


Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Is it too late to diet?

We're going on a cruise!!

I've never been on a cruise.

I mean, I know people who've been on cruises.

They say they're fun.

I'm hoping I'll be feeling like this:


But because I know me so well, I'm probably going to be like this:


In any case, we're going a cruise and I'm just now starting to pack.  Also, I probably should have tried on all my clothes before this week.  Oops.  I'm hoping the Bahamians, er, Bahamites, um, Bahamamicians won't point and laugh as I walk by.  Surely I won't be the only white girl walking by looking like a busted open can of biscuits.  

Also, to make things even more complicated, I've begun no-pooing.  Not that poo.  I'm still a big fan of that.  What I mean is only using conditioner when I shower to help my curlz do their thang without...whatever shampoo has to offer.  Or something.  It can't get any worse, people, so why not try this?  Also, I'll let you know when I've come back from the Capitol of Humidity and if I looked like a clown.  

Peace out.



Monday, January 28, 2013

Brussels sprouts...the candy of vegetables

So recently The Hubs and I have been keeping a keen eye on our health.  Because when we dress in the mornings (or, um, mid afternoons in my case) and we see this great big sack of sludge hanging over our jeans, well, it gets a bit depressing.  And whilst we've partaken in just about any and all means of dieting, frankly, we're gluttons and cast the whole endeavor aside so we can enjoy or cake and bacon in peace.  Mmm...cake.  Anyways, we decided to keep a food log and watch calories.  What a drag!  you say.  I know, my sympathetic friends, it is quite the drag.

Thankfully, we've been using an app on our iPrecious called Lose It, which is a place to log any and all food and drink items so you can see at the end of the day what a fatty you are what you've ingested.  It's very handy, this app, very easy to use.  You can search for foods found in grocery stores and most restaurants.  You can even scan in the bar code on the box or bag your food is in and it will log the calories/serving sizes in your phone.  Easy peasy mac and cheesy!  Also, you can log exercise, but, um, I've not used this feature too often.  Ahem.

This past weekend, Hubs really craved red meat so he bought us some good steaks and marinated those bad boys for a whole day.  It was my job to come up with a side item.  However.  As we had dined at Five Guys earlier in the day I only had a select amount left for my calorie availability left.  What was a hungry girl to do?

Enter Brussels sprouts.

Little, dainty, cabbage like veggies.  Can be boiled, roasted, steamed or raw.  But raw is just ick.  Probably there are a billion ways to prepare these guys, but I decided to roast them.

First I washed well.  Peeled the outer layer.  Cut off tough stem section.  Chopped in half.  Placed on foil lined cookie sheet and doused with olive oil.  Sprinkled with salt n peppa.  Placed in 400* oven.  Cooked for 15 minutes.

THEY WERE AMAZEBALLS, PEOPLE.  

My husband was a bit offended as we ate.  We did not rave at his delectable steak with pink oozy juice flooding our plates, speckled with Really Good Meat Seasonings and Such.  Nay.  Instead, we all sang the praises of our Brussels sprouts.  At one point, I raised my arms in a Victory V, in celebration of this tasty masterpiece.

For real, y'all.  They were awesome.

Did I get a picture?  Heck, no. I was too busy stuffing my face.

In the immortal words of Dr. Dre...WE OUT.


P.S.  If you're here visiting from my buddy and pal, Lemonade Makin' Mama- Welcome!  Also, I'd offer you some Brussels sprouts but guess what?  I ATE THEM ALL.


Saturday, January 12, 2013

Oh, I have a blog?

I'm just going to jump into writing this and act like I haven't ignored this blog for like 17 years, k?

It's Saturday and I'm here in the Apple store, waiting on certain persons (read: my husband) to away with me to the food court to eat convenient and fatty foods with our offspring.  To pass the time whilst I wait, howsabout I write you a little bitty list?  You know, for old time's sake.

Keyboard Confessions:  The My Nails are Really Long and it's Hard to Type Edition

1.  It's quite possible that I didn't capitalize something and/or capitilatized something I shouldn't've in that last sentence.  So glad I homeschool.  I want my kids to lurn guud.

2.  I had "the talk" with my daughter last night.  I wonder if it helped and/or didn't help that I laughed for most of it.  I suppose we'll find out in about thirty years when she's in therapy.

3.  But dude.  Her face.  Reacting to what I was saying.  How could I not laugh?

4.  Thankfully, she still thinks it's utterly gross and icky and why on earth would anyone do that ever?

5.  I'm going to keep her away from HBO, MTV and some of ABC Family for as long as I possibly can.

6.  So this summer my high school class will have its 20 year reunion.  Firstly, I shall try var hard not to think about how old that makes me and I'm quite possibly in the middle of my life and the depression sinks me down which is surely why I've lost a half an inch according to the doctor on my last checkup. Secondly, I had a panic attack.

7.  When one has a panic attack, clearly the best idea is to crack open your yearbook and stare obsessively at what you used to look like and pine for the days when you thought you were "fat".

8.  But one bonus- I found a friend whom I have looked around the innernets for years.  Who?  Whom?  Homeschool mom strikes again.  Anyways.  I stalked her and found her and now we are emailing.  It's the little things, people.  Also, I'm quite sure that is what other stalkers say to prod on their stalkery behavior.

9.  Then, I jumped to here on my blog and read just about every post that these fingers have written and tried to read them through the eyes of peeps I went to high school with and I came to these conclusions:

a)  I am drowning in so many colloquials that my 12th grade English teacher would flunk me after reading just three posts.  Alas and that sucks.  Also, Macbeth is rad.  (I wrote that in a paper once.  Yes, I did.)
b)  I talk way too much about having nostril hair problems.  Seriously.  Also, I found itty bitty scissors that help with this affliction.  So.  You fine readers are spared of future nostril hair malady and affliction posts. 
c)  I talk an awful lot about this mystery novel that I am penning.  But really, it just sits here on my computer and I am convinced that all my talk about it keeps me from writing.  It's a theory, people.  Quite as convincing as the lunar landing being a hoax. 
d)  I am way over Twilight and Party in the USA but I bet no one would believe me if I said it.

10.  I recently went to Walmart, aka Fashion Central, and my oldest daughter told me quite plainly that my headband looked terrible and it would be better for me to take it off and I would just blend in with the people around me.

11.  Serious question- have the Hollywood Movie Maker People run out of ideas for movies and that is why we must endure their endless remakes?  Just curious.

12.  If I stand up really tall then my belly kind of sucks in.  I bet you can't guess how I'm standing right now.

13.  I just got a weird look from an Apple worker.  You don't know my life, lady!  Also, I like your intentionally mussy hair.

14.  Man I forgot how hard it was to come up with random thoughts that don't include things like, where's the bathroom and I'm hungry.

15.  This blog is clearly for the Thinking Man.

16.  I suppose it is frivolous that I am proud that my kids know and sing all my indie rock playlist.

17.  Or, am I doing them an important service for when they are adults raising children of their own?  Yes.  That.

18.  My husband is so hairy he makes the sheets have lint balls all over his side.  Guess which side I placed on my bed when I washed and dried the sheets?

19.  I complained.  Then we placed them on the bed upside down.  Yeah there's a tag flapping near my head, but, no lint balls.

20.  Ingenius?  That's why I homeskool.

Have an amazing weekend.
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