Mothers and Muffins

Dear Brynlee-

Thanks for inviting me to attend Mothers and Muffins with your preschool class today. It was the highlight of my day. I love you. I love the way your nose wrinkles when you smile. And the way you say definitely. I love to listen to you tell stories, and to hear you sing primary songs. And, I love the flower that you planted for me and how proud you were to give it to me. And, I love that you told your preschool class that you loved your mommy because, "she lets me cook with her."

I'm so lucky to be your mother.
Love you.
Mom

a (fifteenth) confession

Today the “Days since Last Injury While Giving a Haircut” sign had to been changed back to zero. I managed to snip the bottom part of my left pointer finger while cutting Spence’s hair. It hurt. It hurts. It has its very own pulse.

I charged him double for the haircut. And rightfully so.

The last time I suffered major injury while giving a haircut was seven years ago. I was angle cutting Jami’s hair to frame her face. I clipped the lower back section of my middle left finger. It hurt then too. It scarred. And now it turns a lovely shade of blue when my hands get cold.

But on a less painful note, on this lovely Wednesday evening, a beautiful bouquet of yellow spring flowers to you. From Brynlee.

The "Look at Me" Projects: Nightstand.

We've done a bazillion* projects lately.

House projects. Yard projects. All sorts of other projects.

I've posted about a grand total of ZERO of them.

Which means absolutely nothing.

Except for,

directly related to my lack of posting...

I've taken a grand total of ZERO before pictures.

And a grand total of ZERO after pictures.

I say we remedy that.

Wouldn't you agree?

I'll start posting a few of them on the blog.

We will make it into a series.

We'll title it "look at me, look at me".**

For obvious reasons.

And I'll start today.

*This number is an estimate. I have a tendency to round up.

**The me in "look at me, look at me" refers to the Spencer and me, me.

Not me, by myself, me.

Because are you kidding!

Like I could do a bazillion projects by myself.

*****

I bought this nightstand at the Goodwill.
For $6.00.

It's solid, and heavy.

And had good structure.

But it was ugly.

No before picture.
Because I didn't take any.
But you already knew that.

And we already talked about it.

I'm remedy-ing it.

But here's the after picture.
Primed, painted and antiqued the thing.
I like the end result.
Do you?

I got those chairs at the thrift store too.

Painted and reupholstered them.

They were $5.00 each.

The end.

In which I realize I’m getting old. And lame(er)!

Me, Breah and Amaris

And our girls: Brynlee, Reagen & Mya

at Reagen's baby blessing

Breah texted me yesterday.

Breah: I saw Clint {last name is being omitted to protect the innocent} at church today in passing, so crazy! I wonder if he lives here now or was visiting someone.
Me: My mind went blank 4 a bit. I had 2 ask Spence who Clint was. Did he recognize u?
Breah: Did he marry that one girl from our appts? He smiled but I am not sure he recognized me. It took me a minute for it to click when I saw him.
Me: Nope. He married a girl he met in Boise. Did he have any kids?
Breah: Not with him...but he was going into sunday school when I came out of sacrament for a min. Small world!

{5-10 minute break between texts. Giving Spence and I plenty of time for a good discussion.}

Me: I didn't date Clint, did I? Spence is insisting that I did.
Breah: No you didn't date him that I knew of {HA! Told ya Spence. And just for the record, Breah's always right about EVERYTHING} but maybe what happened at Perkins stayed at Perkins lol! {Clint and I were co-workers. Along with Spencer. And a good portion of my other college friends.}
Me: Haha...good ole Perkins. I went on a few dates with him. But I never "dated" him. Spence says that counts as dating. SO DOESN'T!!
Breah: That's funny! Tell Spence you didn't date him cuz you never had a DTR and really cuz you were waiting for him to come along :) {no way am I telling Spence that...it would go straight to his head}
Me: Don't think any less of me if I had to google what a DTR was. I'm 28 now, ya know...I'm so not hip anymore! 

{The term anymore is used loosely. As in, I was never really that hip at 27. Or at 25. Or during my college years (when I wasn't dating Clint!) Or pretty much EVER!}

{Although one time, in sixth grade, my mom let me buy this little tightly fitting bodysuit beauty. Oh, she was fabulous. When I wore that...I FELT HIP.}

{I got it from Shop-ko! So again, NOT hip!}

I'm happy to report that even at the ripe old age of 28 I still know how to "google"! And to text.  And to blog.

And to gossip. Obviously.

P.S. I NEVER "dated" Clint!

P.S.S. Thank you, thank you for all your birthday wishes.

I really like you guys.

P.S.S.S.S.  Happy Birthday to you Gretta. 
Welcome to the hi,were28andlame club. 
Did you know what a DTR was?  Love ya.