Birthday Gift Part OhMyGoshWooHOO

OHMYGOSH OHMYGOSH OHMYGOSH.... Look what I got for my birthday!


I have this knack for guessing my birthday presents. It's not because I ask for anything in particular - I don't. In fact, when people ask what I want for my birthday, my brain flies out the back of my head and I can't think of a single thing. It's actually something I inherited - my grandfather always guesses his gifts. You could wrap a tie in a shoebox and he'd say, "Oh, you got me a tie!" before even touching the bow.

My darling husband has gotten verrrry good at paying attention to what I like these past few years and has gotten me some sa-weet gifts. I couldn't be happier. Let's just say we've come a long way from the Christmas I got him a cappucino machine and he got me an Adam Sandler movie.

It started two years ago when on Christmas morning he made me close my eyes and then wheeled in my new road bike. THAT was awesome. I adore that bike.

Last year he got me my kick-*ss digital camera. My camera rocks.

Today, when the box containing my birthday gift arrived, I just had a hunch... I hadn't had any hunches before that, but even though the box was somewhat large and unmarked, I scrunched my forehead in that knowing way and said, "I know what you got me."

That prompted Rob to begin lying; at which, thankfully, he's quite poor. He said, "I'm not really sure you're going to like it" in an attempt to throw me off, which then led to a series of guesses on my part. If he wasn't sure I'd like it, I mused, it must be something HE wants.

"A Pink Floyd CD?" I ventured... Pink Floyd makes me want to carve out the insides of my eyelids with a butter knife.

"The first five seasons of Spongebob Squarepants?" I tried again... I'd like to squeeze Spongebob Squarepants until his beady little eyes explode.

"How about 'The Best of Screamo'?" I laughed... I don't mind Screamo when my son's band is playing it, but that's all on account of a mother's love for her son, not a true appreciation for the style of music. (Sorry Brady.)

Long story short - I guessed right. But that doesn't mean I wasn't totally, completely surprised. I even danced a little jig in the kitchen, to which Brady said, surprised, "Wow - she's never done THAT before."

This sweet new lens allows me to zoom in further than ever. It means instead of zooming this close...

I can zoom THIS close.

Those pictures were taken from the same spot, using different lenses.

Instead of only zooming in this close....

I can zoom in THIS close....

I can also stand in the safety of the garage and shoot pictures of my lovely niece who was way out in the yard.

Or stand far out of the way of the kids shooting hoops and still capture this shot of my adorable nephew Armando who was giving me his pie-faced grin from afar.
Jonathan nabbed the following cool shot of a branch outside our front window. He was standing in the middle of our living room.

So far I am madly in love with this new telephoto lens. So far there's only one minor problem with being able to capture photos from far away... especially when unbeknownst to the subject....

EGADS!

I should've added under-eye cream to my birthday list.

Birthday Gift Part I

It's funny how our idea of what makes a great birthday present evolves over the years. As soon as we were old enough to begin wanting things, we sat with the JC Penney catalog or the double-phone-book-sized Sears catalog, pen in hand, and circled things - even things we hadn't wanted before gazing upon them in the colored pages of those books. Somehow everything looked more desirable with the prospect of actually getting them looming ahead.

As we grew older, birthdays meant fun times. Themed parties. Group trips to places like Chuck E Cheese or Great America or Shakey's. Slumber Parties. Slumber parties where somehow - and who knows how - it got leaked that there were a pile of pajama'd grrls gathered in a tent in a cornfield and boys showed up.

Later birthday celebrations meant pizza joints, dances in the round barn, movie nights where no movies were actually watched. (Sorry Mom.)

And later yet, bars and pubs. And house parties.

And if you're lucky enough to have a birthday on St. Patrick's Day, like me, there is no shortage of partiers and revelers to join you in your celebration. I have dozens and dozens of pictures taken over the years of me with who-knows-who, people who were more than willing to down a green beer, tip their cap, and jump into the fray of my birthday celebration. It all seemed like a good idea at the time.

These days, life is simpler. Quieter. And quite a bit more sober. And I'm happy as a pig in mud.

My first birthday gift of the day - well, besides Rob's sweet 'Happy Birthday' nuzzle first thing - was Brady picking up the house. And my second was Jonathan's invitation to do yoga.

As kids we don't necessarily get the whole "I don't need a present" thing. We roll our eyes when our parents say things like, "All I want is to spend time with you."

But then we grow up. And it's true. Just like all those other things our parents warned us about such as "you don't just marry the boy, you marry the family" (from Dad) and "sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do" (from Mom).

I couldn't think of a better way to spend my birthday morning than doing yoga with my two favorite kids in the whole wide world.

When I suggested taking a photo, Jonathan eagerly obliged and showed off his backbend.

Incidentally, when we did three backbends in a row using Rodney Yee's video, we could barely do them. We were laughing too hard as Brady moaned, "Oh my Gah! I'm dying! I can't do this! Oh my Gah!" over and over.
Here we were still laughing as I tried to get into a half-moon pose without tipping over in time for the camera to flash...

Success!

And now we're off for Birthday Gift Part II.

A few moments ago I had a sudden craving and yelled, "Let's go get french fries!"

Disconnected Internet, Disconnected Thoughts

Ever since Brady tried to swap the operating system in my computer for the operating system in his computer, the wireless network adapter isn't working properly.

By the way, anyone speak Greek? Because that's what the above sentence is to me.

If I have to translate it to layman's terms it would sound something like this:

"Brady! WAH! My computer won't stay connected to the internet! Fix it! What do you mean you can't fix it? I'm going to burst a blood vessel now. Please call the paramedics. Amen."

It also means I'm having trouble uploading pictures to my blog and ya'll know, if there are no pictures, I have nothing to say.

You did know that, didn't you?

That's Jonathan's explanation for why I didn't blog much last month. My photos all suddenly disappeared from Picasa and I was forlorn, lost, and twitchy. It made my muse crawl into the fetal position, suck her thumb, stick her blankie up her nostril and refuse to come out until the photos were found.

Which they were. It had something to do with the whole operating system swap-o-rama-gone-bad. Brady.

And so, with no photos to keep me focused, I can only post random, disconnected thoughts on my blog today....

Rob had a fever last night. It's weird when adults get fevers. Rather than seem especially sick, he got loopy and silly.

We ventured out to Monroe, WI today to meet up with a new-to-us homeschooling group, thanks to an invitation from Jodi of Sunflower Hill Farm who introduced herself to me at the InHome Conference and who was, incidentally, just featured in the Wisconsin State Journal. Thanks Jodi - We had fun!

Usually I have to boot Jonathan out of my bed so I can go to sleep. The last two nights I had to boot Brady out. He hasn't done that in approximately 7.6 years.

There is a pair of naaaasty looking socks on my staircase. I refuse to touch them. Which means they'll be there for a long, long time.

It's 10pm and I should be in bed before I turn into a pumpkin.

But instead of sleeping, I'll end up watching Iron Chef America on the Food Network. Which gets my heart-rate up. Seriously. I get sooo nervous. I'm a dork like that.

Today I was asked to serve on the planning committees for TWO conferences. I'm going to feel badly about letting one of them down. Eenie Meenie Miny Mo.

Jonathan is upset with me tonight because I wouldn't do yoga with him. It's part of his new, "I want to get stronger and more fit" plan, which he announced tonight. This from a kid who has worked out every day since January 1st.

I only said no because I'd just gotten home from a 2-hour stint at the gym, was already showered, and had a full stomach. I promised we'd do it tomorrow morning. OM-baby-OM.

I decided today that I jive with country folks better than city folks. City folks are cool, hip, urban, and intellectual. Country folks talk about things like growing horseradish and suckling pigs and have kids who run around barefoot with dirty toes. I'm intimidated by city folks. Country folks are kin. City folks make me realize just how unhip I am. Country folks make me relax and feel like expanding my garden by 2.5 acres.

I sometimes make sweeping generalizations I later regret.

Tomorrow is my birthday.

To cool Rob's feverish head, I placed a cold, wet washcloth on his forehead. Which immediately prompted his famous Ferris Bueller impersonation. The part where he's faking-sick for his mom.

My mom is making Boston Cream Pie for my birthday.

I like inchworms. Even though they send a shiver up my spine.

You Should Hire Me

I can't believe I just said that.

I have the most difficult time putting myself out there. I know that's hard to believe, what with my posting unflattering pictures of myself on my blog, having a facebook page, and telling you more than you ever wanted to know about life in these here cornfields, but it's true.

I am an idea grrrl. But I'm not a follow-through-on-my-ideas kind of grrrl. I have a vision. In fact, I have several visions. I have new visions all the time. But I don't necessarily do anything about it.

At a recent workshop on raising entrepreneurial children, the presenter said, "Entrepreneurs go past the idea stage. They not only have a vision, they act on their visions."

Well, shucks.

I've come up with all sorts of ideas, grand schemes, life plans. Some are huge and somewhat unrealistic - living in a cooperative community, opening a creative playspace museum for children - but others are smallish and entirely conceivable should I just get to work - hosting round-table discussions in my home, hosting 'Fridays in the Field' field trips for homeschoolers, speaking on unschooling.

(I even name my fictional adventures. Those round-table discussions in my home? "Cornfield Conversations" How fun is that?)

I just have trouble believing in my own 'credentials.' In true codependent form, I am my own worst critic. But where most successful people simply adapt their strategy when they fail, rather than quit or get derailed, I talk myself out of things before I ever get started.

It's not always true. There are plenty of things I do and accomplish. What I get hung up on, though, are those things that involve really putting myself out there, really marketing myself. I can do the occasional class for homeschoolers, tutor the occasional student, direct the occasional play, arrange the occasional PR for an event; but tossing my name into the hat for new things - big new things - intimidates me.

*****
I like entering through the back door. I like it when my debut occurs organically, by happenstance, or accidentally. Once I'm in, once I've accomplished something, once I've established I can do a thing, then I'm comfortable. In the end I even find myself more brazen then ever, buoyed by my own dumb luck. Next thing you know, I go from saying I'll serve cookies at an event to running the operation the following year. I love that.

And that's how it happened that I'm speaking at next year's

Unschoolers Winter Waterpark Gathering in Ohio.

Before attending this year's event, I waited until the last minute to submit a proposal for a roundtable discussion. Naturally, the slots were filled. But it so happened that I know Debra through our blogs, and when she heard I was coming she invited me to join her panel and share my story for their "Redesigning Education" workshop. It went very well and I enjoyed it very much.

Later that evening, the UWWG organizer, Carol Reinhard said she heard good things about our talk and yesterday, I got my official invitation to speak at next year's event!

And it all happened without my having to put myself out there; without having to say, "Hire me: I'm a speaker."

*****
I'm still irritated with myself, though. I'd like to get over my insecurities, get past my fears, and take more initiative to do some of the big things I long to do. Perhaps that means I need to pick the brains of those who do these things. Perhaps that means I need to brush up on marketing skills. Perhaps that means I need to commit myself to my vision on a regular basis. Perhaps that means doing for myself what I urge others to do - treat myself gently and believe in my own gifts. And if definitely means I need to quit prioritizing sweeping the floor over writing another article to submit to homeschooling magazines.

I sold another small article this week. Occasionally I submit freelance articles to a middle-man organization called Constant Content. It's a site that sells your content to buyers seeking articles for their publications, newsletters, and blogs. Constant Content gets a cut, of course, and you don't get a byline (essentially, you're a ghostwriter) but it's been a good way to get my feet wet; see if I'm publishable. Today I received notice that I sold usage rights to an article I wrote some time ago; one that I thought was destined to languish on the site forever. A fun surprise!

These small accomplishments revive my enthusiasm for big dreams and visions. Maybe I really am a writer. Maybe I really can be a speaker.

Today, I grabbed my notebook and gathered all the workshop ideas I've been jotting down for many months. They were scattered and disconnected ideas, penned while I was driving and had an "aha" moment, or inspired by the words of another speaker, or revealed as I answered the questions of a new and worried unschooler. I compiled the ideas into workshops. I even wrote the descriptions.

Too many times I'd think,"I want to speak too" only to have that thought followed by, "But on what topic?" Unschooling is an obvious choice, sure, but even that needed to be fleshed out a bit.

Now I am one giant step closer to putting myself out there. Have topics - will speak.

Sharing this with you on my blog is giant step #2.

I'll work on the other obstacles another day.

A Different Perspective - in Photos

I realize in trying to relay my conflicted feelings about the other day - the 3rd anniversary of my father's death and the day my soon-to-be step-brother welcomed his first child into the world - I rambled on and possibly didn't make a whole lot of sense. Adding to my sense of confusion was life swirling around me in strange ways: the dog needing to go in and out, in and out, in and freaking out already; Jonathan calling from his friend's house and asking me to bring a Q-tip when I picked him up because his ear felt funny; my brother texting about an old acquaintance who died (much too young as well) but about whom no one seems to have the details. There's definitely a sense of unrest in the air.

So I'm going to let my nephew Armando explain it. In pictures.

When one first considers the symbolism of a new baby being born - the granddaughter of my mom's new fiance - on the 3rd anniversary of my father's death, one might at first think,


"I don't want to talk about it."

Or, one might even think,
"This is a stupid day and you can't make me think about it."

Upon further reflection, however, the significance of the events may begin to sink in, causing one to think,
"WHOA."
"That IS pretty crazy."

"Some things stop, other things begin."

"And in the end, all there is is love."

Thanks Armando.

Something to Ponder

Sometimes, the whole "circle of life" thing has many layers.

Yesterday was the 3rd anniversary of my father's death.

But as often happens with the whole circle of life thing, yesterday, my mom's fiance's son Ryan and his wife Marina had their first child - a girl.

Here's me with Marina, my soon-to-be step-sister-in-law. Or something like that. Marina lives in Denver, where she is right now nestling in with her new wee one. Nothing like a new baby in springtime, is there?

Now I know it's a stretch to connect the new baby with the passing of my father. But I can't help pondering the cosmic symbolism here. I'm all for marking an otherwise deeply sad day with something hopeful and promising like a newborn life. This event hits home not only the obvious circle of life with death and birth but also, for our evolving family, the circle of life as it applies to the old-life death and new-life birth; namely, my mom's upcoming marriage to Gordy and the mingling of two very large local families as a result.

Yesterday I spent most of my time ignoring the fact that it was the 3rd anniversary of my father's death. If you ask my kids they'll tell you I'm not much for big lead-ups to big happy celebrations, much less sad ones. In a departure from what many practice, I almost find it irreverent, in some ways, to make a big hoohah about my dad's passing. I remember and grieve and shake my fists at the sky every single day. I don't reserve my honors and tributes and "why in the hell did you have to go and die, Dad?" for the anniversary. I'd rather that day pass by somewhat unrecognized, not wanting to give any more finality and credence to what's occurred than is necessary.

And so it was rather conflicting yesterday to chat about my new paint colors with my mom, whose blood-shot eyes gave her away, and Gordy, who was eagerly awaiting the update from Denver, while we avoided the topic of my father's passing. It was conflicting to temper my grief about just how much I hate the date 3/11 which will forever be marked with horror and trauma, with just how genuinely happy - and even relieved - I was to hear that a new baby was born into the family. Even if calling them 'family' has taken a while to digest and process.

I like them well enough. In fact I like them all very, very much. It's just all... surreal. You know?

And so my range of emotions tottered back and forth throughout the day and night. Jonathan couldn't sleep a wink all night long. I didn't suggest there may be that cosmic connection to explain his unrest. Brady's agitation came earlier in the month, when he had sudden memories of his final hours with my dad just days before he died. Rob just nodded quietly when I brought up the significance of yesterday's date and said, "I know. I've been thinking about him all day."

I'm happy to have something else - something amazing - mark March 11th from now on. Now when my stomach turns at the thought of that date, it will be followed by a softening... and a celebration.

Our congratulations to the entire Dirksen clan! Now please come visit so I can hold that baby.

In Our House

In our house, we don't bring the movie to the couch.



We bring the couch to the movie.

Photo Phrenzy

Whenever we travel, there is always the requisite loopy photo session. This usually occurs mid-trip, when emotions are high, people are getting tired, and we decide to catch the descension from excited-high to exhausted-low. At the InHome Conference, the loopy photo session took place late Friday night. Brady had my camera and Jillian, below, had hers. They snapped so many photos I felt like I was being stalked by the paparazzi.






Here is the lovely Jillian.


We rarely see Jillian anymore so it was fun to hang out with her.
There are about six dozen more photos of Jillian just like these.




Other friends were there too, but their parents aren't cool with their photos going on my blog.
Here's Brady....




Who played along for a while...
And then grew a little crazed....
Jonathan and his friend Colin checked in from the Family Dance from time to time.
And therefore got their picture taken. 62 times.


And even the adults were targeted. Rob's always game for silliness. But in case he wants to kill me for that photo, here's a better one:


Not that he'd kill me. I mean, who'd wash his socks, butter his toast, and greet him at the door after work with his slippers and dinner ready?


No really, who? Because he'd probably really like that.

Another notable detail - these pictures must be close-up shots of faces. No posing, no background filler. Just raw, in-your-face photography.

Which is why mine have all been edited to black-and-white. :-)

Waiting for Cirque

We saw a Cirque du Soleil show last weekend, Saltimbanco. It was amazing. Here we are waiting for the show to begin. A glimpse of our life.




One word: captivating

Fake It 'Til You Make It

When I offered to do publicity for our state-wide homeschooling conference, no one knew my marketing and PR experience entailed nothing more than participation in a few grass-roots, fake-it-'til-you-make-it projects.

Homeschoolers are a resourceful lot, though. Resourceful and, often, somewhat broke. We tend to live by a motto of "if you want it, make it happen" - which means things like forming an art group in your living room because the nearest studio is 45 minutes away; enticing speakers to come to your cornfield by offering free lodging and food; and going through 4, 5, sometimes 6 pilates teachers who only last 6 weeks each because they think travelling to our cornfields is, like, heading for a land of no return and good grief how can you stand it? There's no Starbucks down the block?

Or maybe my opinion is slightly skewed by my location.

Regardless, as I sat in on a session titled "Raising Entrepreneurial Children" at the
InHome Conference, listening to the presenter talk about creating arbitrary limitations in order to 'teach' our children to be creative and resourceful (more on that another time), I couldn't help but think how we unschoolers are raising entrepreneurial children (should they choose to be) by the very nature of our philosophy; and homeschoolers in general by the way homeschoolers tend to live their lives.

As we facilitate our children's interests and passions, we become many things: director, producer, financier, and chauffeur; brainstormer, map reader, liaison, and advisor; secretary, sales staff, lobbyist, and marketer. Just to name a few.

Most of us don't have credentialed experience in those areas, so we just learn by doing. We learn by our mistakes, we learn by asking others, and we learn by Google (thank youuuu Google). We may never become entirely proficient at some - or even any - of these skills, but for us, success is measured by doing something at least well enough to achieve our goal.

Sometimes that means learning something alongside our children so we are their partner in the process. Sometimes that means bartering - doing what we know best - for services or supplies - to get what "they" know best - when we can't afford something. And sometimes that means getting a job as a fitness instructor, proving you're able and reliable, and garnering enough faith that the club will co-finance your certification so you can teach pilates your own d*mn self, thank you very much.

If you want it, make it happen.

And so it is with the publicity for this conference. I have no degree in marketing or advertising. My experience is limited to what I've learned by working with others. I used Google several times for assistance in crafting a press release that will capture attention (i.e. define the goal of your marketing: to get more attendees? spread awareness? announce an event? What is the 'draw' - why should they give space for your news? Ah - good considerations), and I faked it until I made it.

Receiving emails from homeschooling groups large and small, thanking me for finding them and deeming them worthy of attention ("How did you find us? We're just a tiny little group! No one ever thinks to let us know of these things!"), was rewarding in itself. And when The Daily Herald, suburban Chicago's largest daily, contacted me to do a story, I was pretty darn excited. This is the work of a publicist, so I won't over-celebrate this. But for someone who's shooting from the hip and hoping for the best, it's a pretty fun feather in my cap.

Today's story in The Daily Herald.

And now, I'm due in my first class - Tai Chi.

I wonder if the my fellow cornfield residents would like a tai chi class? Hmmm....

My Oscar Speech

Don't you ever wish the Oscar winners would get up there do something different than simply listing all the people they want to thank? I get why they have to do that, especially since it takes more than one actor to pull off a big movie. In fact it's quite likely the actor does the *least* amount of work. And then gets all the glory. So I 'spose it's only fitting - and appropriate - that all those behind-the-scenes folks get a shout-out. It's the least the actors can do.

There, I just completely turned around my own thinking. Welcome to the circular ramblings of my mind.

For MY Oscar speech, then, it's only fitting that I thank those who've made this special occasion possible. To Rob, my rock (no, seriously, he is) (see "circular ramblings" above, add "can't make a decision" and, um, ya) - without you I'd be nothing but a schmoopy-whoopy mess. To Brady and Jonathan, my beloved children, who inspire me on a daily basis and give me fodder for the musings on this blog. To my dog, Duchess, for pooping on my rug. Er - wait.

And fo sho I'd like to thank Madeline - a new-ish unschooling friend - whose fiery spirit inspired me the moment I met her. Thank you for your kind words about my blog, Madeline!
Madeline gave me this:

As per her instructions, here are 6 Things that Make Me Happy:

1. Chocolate

2. Springtime

3. Fires in the woodstove

4. Avocados

5. Unschooling

6. Travel

And now to share the wealth... I'm passing this award on to Ginger. Ginger is another new-ish unschooling friend. We only met briefly at the Live and Learn Conference - doing mendhi. :) But here's the thing about Ginger - we connected on Facebook and she sends me the nicest messages. Something about her... she has this beautiful spirit about her, and it infuses everyone she meets with a feel-good vibe. Go have a read - see for yourself.

That's Why She's the Duchess

The only other estrogen-heavy beings in my house are the dog, Duchess, and the cat, who goes by several names - Kitty, Fluffpot, Miracle, and Minnie - depending upon who's doing the calling.

While the cat is rather sweet (and a little pesky), she's not as lady-like as my dog.

With a name like Duchess, one feels it's prudent to sit with legs crossed at all times.

Even when politely begging to be let out to gnash small rodents to bits.

Life in the Cornfields

I'm not going to start out by saying, "I'm ba-a-a-ck!" or "Sorry it's been so long since I've posted" or even "Dude, I've missed you!" (Even though I have.) (And the dude thing? I have teenagers.) (Male teenagers).

Have you ever seen a blog post that read "I'm Ba-a-a-ck"? It's a funny thing. You see, when I'm reading a blog, I don't pay any attention to the dates. If I read 6 posts in a row, I have no idea if they were written over 6 days' time or 6 months' time, unless of course there are chronological references built into them. So the "I'm Ba-a-a-ck" thing, while obviously a shout-out to the blog's regular readers, only serves to take up valuable time and space.

Kinda like that last paragraph.

I just wanted you to know that I respect your time. And space. If we were close enough that it'd matter.

What's new in the cornfields....

We attended the Unschoolers Winter Waterpark Gathering in Ohio - five days of unschooling and waterpark fun. I met up with unschooling friends old and new and we had ourselves a grand old time. I even got asked by Debra (thanks Debra!) to speak on her panel for the workshop "Redefining Education." And even though it makes me sweat in that funny nervous sort of way, speaking is fun and a great way to meet people. Here I am right before the workshop - barefoot and mendhi'd to the hilt.

(I love a conference where I can speak barefoot and mendhi'd to the hilt.)

I'd show more pictures of UWWG, but you know - the whole swimsuit thing. I have a rather deep aversion to parading around in my swimsuit. Public pools? Urgh. Public waterparks? *shiver* But I managed. By keeping my camera in its case at all times.

The day after returning from the conference I left for Madison, WI to catch up with my women's circle - some of my favorite women in the whole wide world - who were mid-retreat. We collaged and walked and cooked and ate and laughed and cried and it was oh-so-good, as always, to be together. Here are the retreaters, minus 3 who were unable to come.

*wistful sigh*

The boys have been busy as well. Jonathan has turned into quite the fitness fanatic. He and his dad vowed to exercise every day during the month of January, inspired by the Iron Gym Jonathan got for Christmas from his grandma. And they did. Every day. I know! He's also neck-deep in football books, another passion. Oh and GeoChallenge. GeoChallenge! Have you played GeoChallenge on Facebook? Jonathan got a FB page for the sole purpose of playing that game. He absolutely *kills* at it. For reference - my score is around 3300. His score upwards of 46,000.

The booger.

He now studies maps in his spare time.

Brady's been busy with his new rock band which means every weekend my house is filled with long-legged, big-haired, especially-hungry teenaged boys.... and their gear.

Strange sounds erupt from my basement (they play screamo) and sleeping bags cover all available floor space. It's been a ton of fun.

I'm buying lots of bacon.

Brady is also polishing his recording skills...

and since he's teaching two workshops on video game creation at the InHome Conference this weekend, he practiced on our local homeschooling group.

Other big news... Rob bought into his agency so he's now a business owner! He's part-owner, which so far equals more responsibility as well as more debt. But that's ok - we love debt! It's the American way, isn't it?
He bought me pink roses for Valentine's Day.

I love pink roses.

I've been painting. If we're friends on Facebook (and if not, why not?) you may already know that I fired myself from ever picking out paint colors ever again. Ever. I was so sure I liked my color choices, but then I got to painting and realized I hated the blue. Hated it. Loathed it. It looked like I'd spread toothpaste on my walls. (Crest Regular, if you need specifics like my mom and sister did.) But the crazy thing? I kept painting. I wasn't sure about it, I was liking it less and less, and yet there I went - paint paint paint, brush brush brush, roll roll roll - across three walls and into the bathroom sink area, all the while my heart pounding harder and harder.

Really, I'm obviously a half-brick short of a load.

I was hoping it'd grow on me. I was worrying that I'd already spent all that money. And I didn't trust myself to choose another color when I'd screwed up the first choice so fully and royally.

But then I went to Sherwin Williams and laid out my tale of painting-woe to the designer there. And she knew just where I'd gone wrong. The blue looks terrible against my woodwork, said she, and even though I'd already grabbed some replacement possibilities of sage-y greens, she marched straight to the earthy tones, chose two, and said, "These."

Not trusting myself at all by this point, I immediately donned the submissive role and bought samples of those two colors. I took them home. I eagerly slapped them onto my walls.

I hated them.

Redemption is mine!

I returned to the original store the following day, spent a good portion of my day holding up paint samples against a sage green curtain I liked, bought three, brought them home, painted squares on 3 walls, and voila - I like two of the three!

I'm rehired! Getting fired was really hard on the ego.

The purple is good.
And the rest of my walls - including the boys' bathroom downstairs - look like this:

I will resume painting next week. I've waited 12 years to get color on my walls, what's another few days? Besides, I'm tired, it's cold, and the dog pooped on my rug this morning.

And no, I haven't yet painted the boys' bathroom. But seeing as I painted 4 different colors on the bathroom wall - so I could see my new choices on a blank palette - I'd say it's just about to get done. Right on schedule!

Ahem.