Thursday, April 28, 2011

The Birthday Month Confessional [13 of 29]

 It’s my birthday today. Happy, happy birthday to me!

Confession:  I didn't quite make my goal of twenty-nine confessions in the month of April.  I think I posted twelve.  Well, thirteen if you count this one.  And I do.  So, thirteen.  Thirteen is not twenty-nine.  But hey, it’s not zero either.

Want to get me a birthday present?!  Help me reach my Birthday Month Confessional goal. 

While I’m out celebrating turning one year wiser leave your very own confession in the comment section.  It will be like the cheapest birthday present EVER! 

Go on.  Confess, confess!  Pretty please with a cherry on top.  You to Jessica.  Unless you already bought me something.  That's what I thought...confess.

*The Birthday Month Confessional is in honor of my 29th birthday. 
Twenty-nine confessions posted during the month of April.  Hot dang!

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Easter Photo Shoot

Reason #875 that I love my family:  Because they are just as dorky as I am. 

*This post is also being used as my Project 52: Glimpse into Motherhood post.
Because to me motherhood is smiling in front of a cameras self-timer.

Monday, April 25, 2011

All I want for Easter is my bottom left tooth.

Wanna know what tops a visit from the Easter Bunny?
. . . when he’s accompanied by the Tooth Fairy.

Hope everyone had a killer Easter Weekend.
Ours was a goodie.  I will be posting pictures soon.

Right now the toy room and I are playing a very intense game of pertinent, non-pertinent. 
Oh, how I love a toy room purge.

And a birthday month confession {#12}:  Spence and I went the rounds about what the going rate of a tooth is.  Even leaving one amount, then changing our minds and leaving a different.  And I may or may not have engaged in a late night Google Search to see what the Tooth Fairy is leaving other kids.  I didn’t want to be extreme, but I didn’t want to rip my kids off either.  And now I am extremely curious, what does the tooth fairy leave at your house?  Or what did she leave you when you were growing up?

*The Birthday Month Confessional is in honor of my 29th birthday. 
Twenty-nine confessions posted during the month of April.  Groovy.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Oh My Quotable Friday: Puddles

The kids perch themselves in front of the window whenever there is a rainstorm.  And just as soon as there is enough water to cause a stream they demand paper sailboats.  It’s a tradition their dad started a few years back.  Like weather chasers they watch, waiting for the current.

Today we had a paper sailboat rain storm.  First one we’ve had during working hours where Spence hasn’t been around to make the boat. And as it turns out, I haven’t a clue how to make paper sailboats.  So I grabbed a little toy boat out of the tub toys and we set out to sail in the rainstorm.  Not as good as a paper sailboat, but not half bad either.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

The tragedy of the carpet man.

He knocked on the door right as the kids and I were finishing up Operation: Fine! You Don’t Have to Wear a Coat but You at Least Need to Put Shoes On.  He was there to measure for our new carpet {fist bump}.  I showed him were to do the measuring then excused myself to check on the kids who were now outside playing.  Coatless AND shoeless, in case you’re wondering.  He was a friendly gentleman - teased with the kids, told me all about his new carpet measuring thingamajig, complemented me on our teak floor and laughed openly when he came outside just as I was trying to impress Brynlee with a flip on the trampoline.  Oh heaven help me.

As I followed him back upstairs to discuss our current carpet pad situation he pointed to my collage of family photos hanging on the wall, “You have a beautiful family.  You know that, right?”  I thanked him and we continued talking carpet.  It was a conversation with numerous interruptions.  Jace decided he wanted his coat and shoes on after all.  Brynlee asked if she could have some strawberries.  Jace needed to use the potty.  Brynlee decided she wanted her coat and shoes on after all.  Brynlee and Jace had a squabble over the yellow swing and Jace used his teeth as a weapon.  There were tears.  You know. . . the usual interruptions.

As he was getting ready to leave, and with yet another interruption, he made a comment that caught me by surprise. “You are so blessed.  Whatever you do don’t ever do anything to screw this up.”  I’m sure I looked at him strange.  I mean, I had to of; that’s just not a comment you expect to hear from the carpet measuring dude. 

Then he told me his story:  He was raised a good kid.  Served an LDS mission.  Came home.  Met and married the love of his life.  Graduated from college.  Got a good job.  Had two beautiful children.  Life was all he dreamt it should be.

And then he was introduced to cocaine.  He became severely addicted.  Suddenly all he cared about was his next fix.  He lost his job.  His house.  And eventually, his wife and his kids {who were 3 and 5 at the time}.  Then, while high on cocaine, he was involved in a shoot-out with the police and all but lost his right arm.

They were able to fix his arm – to an extent.  It’s stiff, robotic, can’t be raised above shoulder level.  Years later he fought his cocaine addiction, and won.  He’s a recovering cocaine addict – clean for three years.  He was able to find a new job.  A new place to live.  But his family?  His wife?  His kids who are now 15 and 13?  He’s lost them forever.  He will never get back the years he missed out on.  Never, ever.

“Ya’know Kimberlee, he said while moving his bum arm in my direction, his voice cracking, I’d give my right arm.  My left arm.  And both my legs if only I could get it back.  If only I could raise my kids as I should have.  If only I would have treated my wife right.  If only I’d never found cocaine.  That’s years of my children’s life that I will NEVER be able to get back.  Like I said. . . you are so blessed.  You have a beautiful family, you have everything.  Whatever you do DON’T EVER SCREW THIS UP.  Don’t EVER screw this up.”

I thanked him for measuring for carpet, for sharing his story and then sent him on his way.  I ran outside and hugged my kids.  Tightly.  Called Spence and told him I loved him.  Because the carpet man is right, I have everything, indeed.  I’m living my very own fairy tale.  I am so blessed.  I.  HAVE.  EVERYTHING. 

And honestly, so do you.  And whatever you do DON’T EVER SCREW THIS UP.  Just don’t. 

If I do one thing right in this world I hope it to be this - I hope to never, ever screw this up.


*This post is also being used as my Project 52: Glimpse into Motherhood post.
Because to me motherhood is being fully aware that with family you have everything.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

The Birthday Month Confessional [11 of 29]

A play-doh love note for my gang.

Every now and again I get this longing, this dream if you will, to move to the boondocks – a place one block away from nothingness.  A place where nobody knows me, where I have no commitments or obligations, a place so far removed that hustle and bustle do not exist.  A place where all my time, even ever single second of it can be spent with the people I love the absolute most.  A place where ever night is family night.

Do confess:  Where would your dream home be located?

*The Birthday Month Confessional is in honor of my 29th birthday. 
Twenty-nine confessions posted during the month of April.  Word.

P.S.  Happy Birthday Zeb.  How does it feel to be so dang old?

Monday, April 18, 2011

The moral: I turned a door into a picture frame

Okay.  So like a sweet forever ago I recommended my ever so hip and talented friend, Miranda, to be featured in our local At Home Magazine.  They were looking for local bloggers that blog about crafts, art, cooking and the like and since Miranda is a local blogger that blogs about crafts, art, cooking and the like I thought it to be a perfect fit.  And it was.  They featured her.

Anyway, somewhere in the email conversation mix of ‘Oh my goodness I have this awesome friend Miranda that blogs about craft, art, cooking and the like’ the editor of the At Home Magazine {we will call her Rebecca, mainly because that’s her name} asked if I would be interested in taking part in the “At Home Challenge”.

Sidenote:  Whenever I say “At Home Challenge” it is followed by a loud and mysterious don, don, don in my head.  You know, like the sound you would hear on a daytime soap opera when the handsome, albeit married, Michael realizes that the his current love affair is not only the woman once believed to have died in a horrible 4th of July firework accident, but also. . . his sister!  Don, don, don! 

Moving on. 

I replied to Rebecca’s invitation with some sort of “me, you really want me?  Sure, I’d love to.  But, me?  I’m not qualified.” rambling mumble jumble and then I saw something shiny and I forgot about it.  Until I got an email from her a month or two later asking if I was ready to take part in the “At Home Challenge”.  Don, don, don!  A bit about The Challenge: Rebecca comes up with a design slash decorating challenge and then extends it to local business owners, designers, photographers {or in my case, completely unqualified and ever so awkward stay at home moms} to produce some sort of end product in answer to her challenge.  Fun, right?  Our challenge was to find a new and interesting way to display photos.

I happened upon this old door at a local antique shop.  Truly, I happened upon it.  It was buried in the back storage room, covered with vintage dirt and spider webs.  The owner of the shop took me to the back room to show me some merchandise that had yet to be put on the sales floor.  She nodded at the old yellow door, if you want that you can have it.  Sold!  I loaded it into the Swagger Wagon, bought a couple cans of spray paint, some burlap and went to work.

Here’s my final product.  The old yellow door, before:

And my new and interesting way to display photos, the after:

The black blocks {that I edited} on the bottom of the frame spell our last name in burlap.  My main motivation of hanging our last name up there was so I would have hooks to hang our Christmas stockings on come December.

And here is the At Home Magazine article.

P.S.  I would love to share the link to the actual article with ya’ll, but I’m cautious about posting my last name and where I live on my bloggity blog.  If you are interested in reading the article in a print you can actually read, seeing what the other challenge contributors came up with, or reading Miranda's article leave me a note in the comments or email me {kimberleeunedited at gmail dot com} and I’ll send you the link.  Alrighty?  Alrighty.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Oh My Quotable Friday + A Confession

And a confession for your Friday, because I'm still 20 confessions shy of my 29 confessions and it's already April 15th.  Holy crap, April 15th!  Spring is going to be over before it even gets here.

At any rate, my confession:  I joined Facebook!  {Ever heard of it?}  I succumbed to the society of Facebook friends and messages written on walls. . . she says as she hangs her head in shame.  And yes, I do realize that I’m the last person in the whole entire universe to join Facebook, but I am also fairly certain that I was the last person in the whole entire universe to send a text message or take a picture with my cell phone.  In fact I don’t even own a pair of skinny jeans or jeggings.  My phone has never had a ringtone that you would also hear on the radio, I’ve never worn Ugg boots and I don’t have a clue who Bieber is.  I’ve never drank an energy drink or watched The Bachelor and I have to Google any acronym used in internet slang {besides lol, I know that one}.  Obviously I’m a highly fashionable and trendy individual and you should all be jealous of my cutting edge coolness.  Don’t hate.

Anyway, I jumped on the Facebook bandwagon a little over a week ago and I’ve yet to sign back in.  But still, I signed up.  That makes me a tiny bit less lame, right?

Do confess:  Do you Facebook?  Facebook vs. Blog – which do you prefer?

*The Birthday Month Confessional is in honor of my 29th birthday. 
Twenty-nine confessions posted during the month of April.  Woot.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Birthday Month Confessional [6,7,8,9 of 29]

Picture from the shoebox:
Me and Marie as Rockstars way back in the beauty school days
We all have talents.  Right?  Me included.  And I believe I’ve found the one thing that I am totally, completely, 100% incredibly and amazingly good at.

Embarrassing myself in public!  I really have a knack for it.  Oh yes I do.

Take for example the time that I received an email from everybody that was anybody {read: bigwigs} at the insurance company I was working for informing me that I would be receiving a promotion.  I immediately sent the cheesiest of girlfriend love notes to Spencer reporting that I deserved a massive amount of hugs & kisses.  Only to learn that I had hit reply instead of forward.

Or the time that I showed up to work at the Real Estate agency wearing my dress suit, nylons and my fuzzy purple house slippers.

Or what about the time that I engaged in a 15 minute conversation with a man in Fred Meyers only to learn that he wasn’t the man I thought he was.  The man was either drunk or very kind, because he went along with the conversation.

Or the time on a family trip to Canada when we stopped for a bathroom break at McDonalds.  I walked into the restroom, said “Hi” to my little brother, {who was washing his hands, oh my thank goodness and sing praises to the good Lord), and turned to enter the stall before I realized that the door I had entered was not the one with the little girl in a dress plastered to the front of it.

I am one of a kind I tell you.  One.  Of.  A.  Kind.

Do confess:  Have you ever had an embarrassing email mix-up?  What about a bathroom stall mix-up?

*The Birthday Month Confessional is in honor of my 29th birthday. 
Twenty-nine confessions posted during the month of April.  Booyah.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

12 on the 12th [The April Chapter]

01.  Breakfast.  Pancakes, the kid’s new daily request. 
02.  GPS.  After spending last week house hopping: Jami’s & Mom’s, then Jessica’s for a night, and then Jami’s again for a few days, it feels good to be Home Sweet Home.
03.  Preschooler.  Picking Brynlee up from Miss Lori’s.  Tiny kids in huge backpacks make me smile.
04.  Pig.  Artwork by Brynlee.
05.  Ride.  Jace kept saying, “Faster Brynlee, want faster Brynlee?”
06.  Ground Cover.  Raked out the flower beds.  The periwinkle is finally recouping from The Great Paint Fiasco/Stuccoing the house back in 2009.
07.  Ice-Cream.  An afternoon snack.
08.  Buddies.  Oh how I adore them.
09.  A walk.  Our neighbors have Llamas!
10.  3-2-1 Blast Off.  A game that never gets old.
11.  Bag Balm.  Only thing I’ve found to {sorta} help my uuuugly, dry, cracked feet.
12.  Scrubs.  An episode or seven after the kids are in bed.

12 on the 12th inspired by her.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Photo Album: Spence’s April Fools Day Prank

Remember how I told you that Spence played an April Fools joke on his boss at work?  Remember how I told you that they swapped all his oversized office furnishings for pint size replicas?  Here’s the April Fools Day photo proof.

But first a few things:
  • These photos are mainly being posted for my Dad {12 days late} because, I love him.  And because he’s requested.
  • Due to a typo on a presentation during a big departmental meeting, Spence’s boss has been kindly nicknamed “Big Chuck”. 
  • And at 6’8, “Big Chuck” is a fitting nickname.
  • Spence and his co-worker/partner and crime emptied most of “Big Chuck’s” furniture out of his office and replaced it with “Lil’ Chuck” furniture.
  • And a “Lil’ Chuck” nametag.
  • “Big Chuck” usually keeps a HUMONGEOUS! mug on his desk, it was replaced with a Dora sippy cup.
  • They took pictures of Spence’s boss sitting in the tiny “Lil’ Chuck” desk, but I want Spencer to keep his job so I won’t be posting them.

Dear Brynlee: On Your 5th Birthday

Brynneee Boo-

My little girl, you’re five!  I can hardly believe it’s already time for me to write you another birthday letter.  One year older.  It seems a daily occurrence that dad and I comment about how big you’re getting and how fast you and your little brother are growing up on us.  I mean, you’re already five for crying out loud,

Last Thursday we registered you for Kindergarten.  Your feelings were mixed – as were mine.  Excited, nervous, overwhelmed, eager, anxious, thrilled.  You told me you were a little scared because you have to go and that’s a really, r e a l l y, REALLY long time.  But in the same breath you told me that you couldn’t wait to go to Kindergarten to learn to read, and to meet your new teacher, and to find new friends, and to eat lunch at school.  I think with all the mixed emotions, excitement trumps them all.  You are so excited for your new adventure.  And I am so excited for you and your new adventure.  I hope that you love it.  And I think you will.

When you were younger, 1, 2, 3, even at the start of your 4th year, you were such a shy, timid little thing.  If I had to choose one word to describe you in those first few years of life ‘shy’ would be my word.  Eye contact, conversation, social settings, people you didn’t know, even people you did know, scared you.  Not so much anymore, you are more confident in yourself and more comfortable with others.  You make friends easily, you share your opinion, you make eye contact, you stand up for yourself.  And although you would much prefer playing with a close friend to a large group of acquaintances, I would no longer chose shy or timid or reserved as my number one word to describe you.

And even though you’ve always been a bit hesitant in social settings you are fearless, a thrill seeker, adventurous still the same.  You love the ‘big rides’ at Lagoon, you go down the steepest sledding hill crossing your fingers that you will hit the bump, you learned to do flips on the tramp and ride your bike without training wheels the summer after you turned four.  You climb trees, love when dad throws you in the air, and beg to lead the way when hiking.  You jump off things, climb on things, and aren’t scared of new adventures.  A few weeks ago you attended a birthday party at a local gymnastics establishment.  They had a zip line that started at one side of the gym and finally ended in a large pit of foam squares on the other side.  One little boy, probably 9 or 10, held onto the zip line debating if he really wanted to allow his feet to leave the edge.  While he debated, you waited patiently in line.  He finally hung his head and climbed back down the ladder.  Without time for a second thought you took his place, accepted a boost from a nearby adult, grabbed hold of the zip line, and dismounted into the foam cubes.

Today when doing our morning brush and floss I noticed that you had a lose tooth.  The front, bottom one.  I got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, because there’s no way you are old enough to be losing teeth.  You on the other hand were beyond ecstatic.  Since our neighbor girl lost her first tooth at five, you think that losing teeth is the age five rite of passage.  We were at Aunt Jami’s house and you insisted on making a phone call to dad at work to let him know.  And the rest of the day you sang made-up songs about your teeth falling out.  My teeth are fallin’ out, my teeth are fallin’ out, I’m getting so big ‘cause my teeth are fallin’ out.  And then at bedtime tonight you prayed a hopeful prayer “. . . and thank thee that my tooth will fall out tomorrow!”

Tyson is your best little pre-school buddy.  You adore him.  He taught you to whistle, to properly shoot a basketball at McDonalds, and he draws you the cutest little homemade cards – pictures of the two of you hand drawn on a sheet of notebook paper.   And there is never a pre-school day gone by that you don’t remind me how much you like playing with your best friend, Tyson.  Your friendship is sweet.

This year you took pre-school from Miss Lori, and you have enjoyed every minute of it.  You love Farr’s play-doh ice-cream, your new Webkinz, riding your bike, and going to Outer Limits.  You idolize your Aunt Marie.  And your cousins, Brookee and Livvie, are two of your closest friends.  The other day you came home from pre-school frustrated because one of the taller girls in the class said you were way too short to be a five-year-old.  You wear 4T clothes and last week you outgrew your size 8 tennis shoes.  Sun dresses or skirts and leggings are your clothing of choice.  You will not wear tights, even to dance class.  You can’t stand them.  You enjoy reading hour at the library, family home evening and your dance classes.    You are observant and attentive and a very good listener.  You remember things and notice things that I easily over look and you come home from primary or pre-school and retell me the exact lesson or story that you learned in class that day.  You want to do good, to make people happy, and you get the most guilty of conscious if you do something you know is wrong.

You and Jace are constantly wrestling.  At home in the toy room, on the tramp, on the kitchen floor, at the department store, in sacrament meeting.  Not fighting, just wrestling.  And you both are so content rolling around on the floor trying to win a wrestling match.  It makes me laugh.  Your brother adores you and always tries to make you happy.  If his big sister needs some water, he races to the kitchen to get you a drink.  If his big sister needs her stuffed animal, you better believe he is on the hunt to find it.  And in return you protect your little brother.  One of my favorite things is when you tell him “Jace buddy, you are such a handsome little fellow.”

Brynlee, I love you so much.  I take so much pride in raising you and your little brother.  Being a mother fulfills me in a way that nothing else ever could.  I’m so lucky!  And I know it. 



Friday, April 8, 2011

Cowboy up.

our little family spent yesterday evening at the rodeo.
kate and jake joined us.  actually, we joined kate and jake.
they both have hook-ups for dang good rodeo seats.
close enough to get bull snot on your shirt and rodeo rocks kicked into your drink.
and although it smelt like something fierce, it was a good time.
jace fell asleep five minutes into the show.
blaring music, cheering crowd, and the racket of the rodeo didn’t wake him.
so not typical of jace.  the kid was exhausted, obviously.
an hour in he finally woke up.
i had forgotten how much i love a rodeo.  i love a rodeo. 
we should really go more than once a year.
mutton bustin' was our favorite event of the night.
one little cowboy put on a good show.
he wasn’t letting go of that sheep for nothing.  because that’s the cowboy way.
he got drug for half the arena, he still didn’t let go.
he got drug until his boots fell off.  he still didn’t let go.
then his pants followed.  so not kidding.  the little cowboy finished the ride in his underwear.
funniest rodeo moment ever.
the kid was robbed, though.  he deserved first place.  i mean, he finished the ride in his underwear!
note to jami: you need to sign brooke up for mutton bustin'.
and a sidenote: my brother took the first place trophy in mutton bustin' when he was a little chap.
trophy was bigger than he was.  one of his proudest childhood moments i do believe.
brynlee told us she loved the rodeo clown.  except she didn’t think it was a clown. 
a pirate, she called him.  brynlee loved the rodeo pirate.
i think it was because under his cowboy hat he wore a bandanna harley davidson style. 
and she swore that he had an eye patch.
and she also loved that kate bought ice-cream for everyone to share.
we asked jace what his favorite part was and he said ‘the ladies’!
had me laughing for the rest of the night.  he's two.  heaven help us.
we came home smelling like dairy heifer 4-h.
and the kids were so wild. 
neither one of them shut-up from the time we left the rodeo
until 11:00 at night when they finally fell asleep.
they had such a good time.
they played rodeo.  begged and pleaded to go again tomorrow night. 
pretended they were rodeo animals.  and talked about horses and cowboys.
and i labeled rodeo night a success.  because it was.
thanks kate and jake.  you guys are the best.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

The Birthday Month Confessional [2,3,4,5 of 29]

Me and my high school vball team.  I'm #4 in the back.  The chic with the funky bangs!
+ I cannot - for the life of me - swallow a prenatal pill.  In fact, when I’m pregnant just the sight of the pill bottle makes me gag.  Even just the words parental pill makes me queasy.  A pregnant me once decided that maybe the whole can’t take prenatal vitamins without throwing-up phenomenon was all in my head.  So I sat on the side of the bed in our bedroom, had Spencer open the prenatal vitamins in the bathroom where I couldn’t see, deliver me a glass of water and put the pills in my hand.  Yup, definitely not all in my head.  My hand is as far as the pills made it.  We cleaned carpets that very day.  My solution?  Gummy vitamins.
+ My high school volleyball coach joked that I’d inherited my chest from my dad.  Phsaw!  I just needed a few extra years, a freshman twenty {err. . . umm. . . twenty-ish) and a few pregnancies.
+ Sometimes I warm up cheese to melting point and eat it with a spoon.  Pepperjack is my fav.  And warmed up is the best way to eat string cheese, even ask my kids.
+ I like gas station hot dogs.  Especially when it’s covered in relish - the amount of relish that will without a doubt drip down your shirt and onto your jeans {and a little on your chin} while you’re driving in the car.

Do confess:  What is your gas station guilty pleasure?  How are you at taking your vitamins?

*The Birthday Month Confessional is in honor of my 29th birthday. 
Twenty-nine confessions posted during the month of April.  Hip Hip Hooray.
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