Story Lady Blog has a facebook page (in case ya’ll didn’t know)… you can find it and “like” it

HERE

It’s a hoppin’ place where I post updates about my life which, as you know, is suuuuper ordinary. Like it. I know you’ll love it.

I promised my liking facebookers that if Story Lady’s page ever reached 100 likes, I would post 100 things that make me laugh hard. Because 100 things is a lot to take in one post, I’m going to split this business up into 5 posts composed of 20 hilarious things. I am currently taking hilarious suggestions.
What makes YOU laugh? Let me know. You can use the comments section, my facebook page, my email or text… I’m available so many ways it almost makes me look cheap.
But anyway.

I’m going to categorize here.  I never categorize anything, so I’m not a little impressed with myself here.  The first group of 20 is going to come from Pinterest… things that I keep tucked on their own little pin board so I can reference them easily when a laugh is needed.  The next 20 will be videos.  The 20 after that will be blog posts from ’round the web.  After that I’ll post 20 pictures from my personal archives that make me laugh.  After that?  I’ll post 20 Reader-submitted laughables.  Send me pictures, videos, jokes, what-have-yous from around the web… if they make you laugh, I’d love to share them!

Now.

Please play a drumroll in your mind as I bring you the FIRST group of 20:

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Sunday morning, we had a tragedy.
Blue died.

My husband and I were snuggled up under a big blanket on the couch -we were fighting the same cold and the blanket was on our side.
Our Lacy snuck out of her room, went to the bird cage, quietly lifted the door, took her bird out, and snuck back into her room. She knew that she wasn’t supposed to take her bird in her room, but she did anyway.
A few minutes later, we heard some wailing from her room… Trenton came bolting out.
“Lacy’s bird just DIED!” He announced. Lacy was behind him, a limp blue parakeet in her hands. Tears were rolling down her face.
“What happened?” I asked her.
“She DIED!” Lacy cried out.
“I know, but how? What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Lacy said through her tears, “She just DIED!”
We tried getting a straight answer out of her -she told us Blue was sitting on her finger and suddenly died. Finally we asked Trenton.
“What happened, buddy? Did you see it?”
“Lace sitted on her. I didn’t want her to.”

Sigh.
We never once thought to tell our six year old daughter not to SIT on her bird.
So we all sat in the hallway around the dead bird, and not one of us had a dry eye. Lacy -for the first time -was experiencing the pain of real loss. The rest of us couldn’t do anything about her pain, and that’s why we were crying.
Instead of taking a shower or shaving my legs like I had originally planned, I made a satin-lined felt pouch to put the much-loved birdie in. My husband went to the computer and started googling around to see if there was any way to revive a warm, dead birdie body.
I kept the scraps from the pouch and made Lacy her own little pouch. We pulled Blue’s tail feathers out and put them in it… I told her it is her special pouch to remember Blue. She takes it everywhere we’ll let her.

Sunday night, Lacy stayed up and had a long talk with me.
“She was my own daughter,” she said, again through tears, “And now I’m just so heart broken!”

It’s hard for me to see her hurting so much. I want to go to the city and buy her a new bird.
But.
I don’t want my girl growing up in a world where you sit on a bird, suffocate it, and get a new one in the morning.
I want her to grow up in a world where she experiences things like loss and learns how to deal with them -learns from them…

She scratched words into the headstone.
“I Love Blue”

She has since lined the grave with all sorts of rocks -and she adds to the rock collection whenever she finds a beautiful one.
Rocks are all she has to give -they’re free and available, so she finds the very best, the very prettiest, and she gives them to her own daughter.

I think it’s time for me to step up and help my daughter make a few floral arrangements so she can have a little something else to offer her departed feather friend.
They really did make the best team.

When I was about 7, I had a 12 year old brother and a 3 year old sister.

One afternoon, my mother left us in the care of our 12 year old brother. He read some books to my little sister, and then he took her into the kitchen and made her some goo-goo goggles.
To make goo-goo goggles, you need an empty toilet paper roll, plastic wrap, glue, and two rubber bands.

My brother cut the empty toilet paper roll in half, glued the halves together and secured clear plastic wrap onto the ends of the tubes with rubber bands.

I thought it was SO cool.
I asked him if he could make some for me.
He said if I could find an empty toilet paper roll, he most definitely would.

I sprinted into the kids’ bathroom… the roll was fattly filled. I sprinted into my parent’s bathroom… their roll was only half empty.
I knew I shouldn’t…
but I wanted some of those amazing goo-goo-goggles SO bad.
So I unrolled, and unrolled, and unrolled.
I checked over my shoulder constantly to make sure no one would catch me.

Minutes later, I handed my brother the empty toilet paper roll.
“Where did you find this?” He asked.
I swear he could see into my soul, so I didn’t answer.
“Did you waste the toilet paper on this roll?” He asked.
He knew! He KNEW! Fighting the truth was hopeless.
So I nodded.
He got after me, and I never got my goo-goo goggles. EVER.

Two days ago, I found my son at the table with an empty toilet paper roll. He cut it in half and slipped each half over his hands.
“Buttons!” he cried out.
I don’t know what the heck he meant by it, but hey! Whatever makes you happy, kid.
And he was happy. The “buttons” made him so happy that he longed to share the joy with his most favorite person in the whole wide world… his older sister.
Except… there was no more empty toilet paper rolls.

But there WAS a roll of toilet paper that was half empty.
He knew he shouldn’t…

I handled the situation the best way I knew how, and looking into the wastebasket and seeing a gigantic pile of clean toilet paper really made me laugh.
After all these years, I finally got payment in kind.

Grandma, no wonder you like these kids so much.

My brother and sister-in-law gave us a cookbook as part of our wedding gift from them. It was fancy. I’d never owned a cookbook before, let alone a FANCY one:

For our three month anniversary (month anniversaries are VERY important that first year), I cracked open the cookbook and attempted to make a pasta dish. I was intimidated by the ingredients.
Pesto? What was that?
But I powered through. My husband is a pasta lover and a shrimp lover, and I knew he’d go bonkers for this dish -if I could pull it off.

I went to the store and searched for pesto and wanted to throw up when I saw how much shrimp cost.
But in the end, I pulled the dish off.
My new husband was so impressed with what a good cook I was. We made the dish whenever we could afford it, and after a year or so, we quit bothering with separate plates. We just put two forks in one heaping bowl of goodness. Here’s an old picture from 2005, when I made the dish for our first Valentine’s Day together:

When we were pregnant with Lacy, we moved out of our first home as a married couple. And somewhere in the move, we lost our beloved fancy cook book.
I was devastated. I searched high and low for it!
A few months ago, it resurfaced! I danced. I was big and pregnant, but I danced.

Saturday afternoon, my husband went to the store and came back with shrimp and garlic and pesto and grape tomatoes… he got a thoughtful itch to date me in my own home. My parents were nice enough to take our older two kids for a couple of hours while my husband and I cranked Amos Lee’s Pandora station and cooked our old faithful dish.
We started out with a clean kitchen and commenced to thrash it. Eets for fun.

Cooking is something we really enjoy doing together. We don’t do it very often because he’s usually too tired to cook after coming home from work, and if he isn’t too tired and he DOES decide to cook, I’m more than happy to let him at it. And I go take a bath.
But when we plan it and work together, it’s a lot of fun.

My husband said he’d like to make this a once-a-month thing.
We also have a small (but hopeful!) dream to attend a cooking class together at The Cottage Place.
It’s one of “our” places -we like to eat there on special occasions (read: very rarely because they’re expensive). They were named one of the top 100 restaurants in the USA for 2012 which just validates our good taste, right?
The cooking classes are $50 per person and last for about 2 1/2 hours.
We’ll probably be able to take a class next year when Miss Alice isn’t attached to us. Not that we mind…

For now, we’ll settle with our own signature pasta dish and our own little house.

I didn’t have anything fancy to drink with our fancy dish, so I just put lemon slices in our water. Instant Fancy, right?
And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to eat the leftovers. Cold. Right outta their tupperware. They’re amazing that way.
Cheers to my husband and his thoughtful date idea… and cheers to my husband for finding the Pesto in Safeway. A true hunter.

My house has been pretty dirty lately.

A dirty house is like an eternal ring of madness… you can clean to the best of your ability, but if there’s a part of the main living area that isn’t tidy, everyone acts like a slob -and the mess is never ending.
Example:
If my daughter comes home from school to a dirty living room, she puts her backpack, shoes, and coat on the floor.
If my daughter comes home to a partially dirty living rooms, she puts her backpack, shoes, and coat on the floor.
I nag at her to clean them up.
She sort of listens.
I nag.
I remind.
I threaten.
And then I yell.
There’s contention… and no matter how clean the house is, if there’s contention around it just FEELS dirty.

If my daughter comes home to a clean living room, she’s more inclined to put her things away without being asked. She’s also more inclined to get right on it if she doesn’t put them right away (as in: I only have to remind her once).
No contention.

Adorable as she is, The New One has thrown a wrench in our routine. Trying to keep up with everything is impossible. Right now, it’s also very unnecessary. Still, some semblance of order is required.
We tried having a Family Home Evening lesson on keeping our house in order (how many of THOSE did you have growing up? Fifty or a million?). It helped.
But it still brought on a lot of reminding and nagging and our old friend, Contention.

Then I saw a link one of my friends posted on facebook (thank you, Charlsye!).
It’s an online job chart. It’s free, and it’s revolutionary.

I’ve never been a fan of paying kids to do things that they should be doing anyway. HOWEVER, nothing is getting done. At all. Contention makes SURE of it.

I logged on to the site and immediately created my own account. I added pictures of our family, and each kid has their own PASSWORD… do you have any idea how COOL that makes my little kids feel?

via mormonwiki.com
They earn points with their chores, and they can use their points to either
1) save up some cash that Mom and Dad will pay out later.
2) donate to a charity.
3) spend on a toy or something of the like.

via appscout.pcmag.com

They’re linked up to Amazon, so your child can pick a toy, see how many points it’s worth and then work hard to earn that toy.
My son has dedicated himself to earning a toy bow and arrow set.
My daughter couldn’t care less about the toys and is earning points toward an ice cream cone, a cookie-making session, and a picnic.

One point is equal to one cent.

My kids earn points by brushing their teeth, feeding their animals, combing their hair… again, it doesn’t sit right to me that my kids are essentially getting paid to brush their teeth.
And yet. At least it’s now getting done whereas before? It was not. They’re dedicated to getting their chores done now.
They’re even reminding ME that they have things that need done.

I know that chore charts come and go -one will work for a while and then you have to switch to a new method… but I think this one is here to stay.
And I’ve got clean, groomed kids and fat, happy pets to prove it.

via lifeasamom.com

I don’t know whether to classify my interest in movies as addiction or passion.
I imagine it’s a pretty blurry line for all of us when it comes to our indulgences (chocolate, anyone?).
My baby -my sweet six week old -is a fussy baby. She’s not nearly as fussy as her older sister was, AND the magic of it all is that I can actually get her to STOP fussing simply by holding her. Her sister wasn’t so nice to me. She cried no matter when, no matter when, no matter no matter no matter.
Miss Alice will actually cry REAL TEARS if left alone long enough. You’ve never felt guilt so REAL as when you come up to your fussy baby -who you’ve left to fuss for a while so you can eat or shower or powder your nose -and tears are streaked down her perfect little cheeks.
It’ll tear your heart right out.

Anyway, I don’t mind spending extra time holding her. It gives me a chance to kiss her chubby cheeks and feed her whenever her lips smack and remind her that someday Mommy will need someone to take care of HER when she’s too old to feed herself (speaking of real guilt).
And I’ve been able to watch a few movies. Okay, a lot movies.
I’ve watched most of Catherine Cookson’s movies on Netflix (rather, the movies that were made based on the books she wrote). They’re all historical fiction (which I love) and all end up having some weird plot twist that doesn’t make any sense (which I hate).
I’m all for feel-good predictability when it comes to entertainment.
In one of her movies, the main character is a woman who eventually falls in love with a man who raped and impregnanted her. I call foul. FOUL! Especially because she had a man who was in LOVE with her AND better looking.
I’ve been heavily let down by Downton Abbey for much of the same reasons (historical fiction? YAY! Weird plot twists? NAY!), and I’m not looking forward to the next season at all. Not even a little.
But BBC has not wholly forsaken me.
I absolutely LOVE “Call the Midwife.”

via nytimes.com

You can watch the Christmas Special HERE.
It is so real -so true to life -so wonderful. Every episode I’ve watched has strengthened my faith. It’s not a Christian show, but it is about babies, and where there are babes, there must also be love. And where there is love like that, there is also faith.
Please don’t watch it if the idea of watching a baby being born makes you skittish, squirmish, or sick.
Because there’s a lot a babies being born.
The series is based on a trilogy of books written by Jennifer Worth (who describes her years working as a midwife in 1950’s East End, London).

On Netflix Instant Streaming, you can watch Miss Palfrey at the Claremont.

via dvd.netflix.com

This movie.
I LOVED.
If you only enjoy movies with gripping plots, don’t bother with this one. If you watch movies because you fall in love with the people in them, this one is definitely worth watching! It had me laughing so hard I was snorting. Whoever was in charge of casting the rolls for this movie is a genius. The acting is great, and this is the ONLY movie I’ve ever seen that actually creates chemistry between a young man and an old woman and makes it believable! The two fall in love with each other, but not in a gross way… in a caring way. They never kiss or anything like that -there’s virtually no romance in the movie (except that one scene where the main male character -who played Whickam in the newest version of Pride and Prejudice -and his girl friend take a “nap” together in the afternoon. Don’t worry. It’s a short nap. I went to fast forward it, and it was over before I could even raise the remote).
There’s no romance between them -just thick chemistry. I’m going to watch it again, and BRAVO to Netflix for adding more movies that are worthwhile.

I’m careful with foreign films because they seem to be more… okay with nakedness. I’m not all about that. Watching babies be born? I can do that. Watching naked people do… stuff? Count me out.
Yuck.
Even this onsie I found at Wal-Mart grossed me out a little:

ANYWAY.

I loved this French Film (also found on Netflix):

via loftcinema.com

There was no foreign-film naughtiness. I mean, she DOES get pregnant. But the “stuff” is all implied.
I hope you understand that I have to skirt around the word that starts with “s” and rhymes with “hex” because people will search horrible explicit things and wind up on my site -and then I get horribly explicit spam comments.
So.

The Well Digger’s Daughter is written so well -you just fall in love with the widowed father of five daughters. He’s downright adorable without trying to be.
His second daughter becomes pregnant (out of wedlock, pre WWII) and he does his best to disown her out of duty. But loves her so much… It’s fun to watch it all play out. WELL WORTH a watch if you can stand reading the English subtitles… which I can.
I’m trying to get my husband on board with the idea. He would LOVE the movie. It’s also worked out great that I could just read the subtitles and know exactly what was going on… because I have two young kids and a fussy baby.
Win!

I also started watching “My Strange Addiction” on Netflix, but I had to quit after a few episodes because it just made me feel grimy. I think the point of the show is to make you point fingers at people and judge them for their weird addictions… who wants to waste valuable entertainment time doing THAT? I mean, I’ve yet to meet someone who can watch “Hoarders” for hours on end. Want to know why? It makes you feel grimy.
No one enjoys feeling grimy.
And anyway, you can only watch Hoarders for one hour -tops -before you start scrubbing your own house.

I think I might need to watch Hoarders today…

Lastly, if you need a date night movie and don’t mind inappropriate jokes (and language), definitely check out Pitch Perfect.  It’s one of those chick flicks that men don’t mind (Two Weeks Notice is also on that list, by the way). Don’t tell him I told you, but I actually married a guy who enjoys the occasionally chick flick -so long as it’s got a good dose of humor (The Notebook is NOT on that list.  Sweet Home Alabama, Return to Me, and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days are on that list).

Just please: put the kids to bed first… the language is awful.  And there’s a shower scene with American-style nakedness.

 

Trenton is just as big as his “big” sister, and I know in a few years he’ll come across this picture and say, “What gives? What’s with my little baby bike?”
We’re planning on an upgrade just as soon as we can manage it.
Sorry kid.

It’s so awful it’s cute.

I snagged a picture of us after we went out biking:

In other news, our Alice is becoming master of her own neck… a HUGE step in Babydom:

My husband shaved and was consequently covered in facial kisses.
“I can SEE your FACE!”

My husband loves pink. Secretly. He can’t get enough pinkness when we’re all together. In fact, he takes ALL my pink away from me. See?

SEE?!

I do have one super power that ensures my pink will never be 100% taken from me: milk-making!

My milk puts my baby to sleep. I’m currently in the process of designing a pink onesie with the words “Milk Maid” on the front. She’s my lazy little Milk Maid. She’s also sort of like an Invalid Milk Maid (never fear, I won’t put that on a onesie. It’s cruel).

Those bags under my eyes are no joke.
*yawn*

My son’s talent for making up words is still in full bloom, and I couldn’t be happier. I thought by now he would have outgrown it, but he still dazzles us with gems like:

“Lace! I told you the car would shank off the track!”

and

“There was a hair on my puzzle, but I just tee-tee’ed it.”

To shank means to fall off of.

To tee-tee means to rub between your thumb and forefinger tips.

Hilarious.

My Lacy recently asked me about some of our loved ones who are going through a tough time.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because Heavenly Father sometimes lets uncomfortable things happen to us. It’s a test for us -we have to do the best we can.”

“Or maybe it’s Satan,” she reasoned. And let’s be honest: doesn’t it sometimes feel like our problems come from Satan himself?

“No,” I said, “Heavenly Father can give us problems. He wants to see how we handle them. How do you handle your problems?”

“Play Pollies,” she said.

Ah, if only the world could solve their problems with Polly Pockets!

For birthdays, we have a tradition where we go on an outing as a family to do something fun -the birthday kid gets to pick. Last year, Lacy choose ice skating. This year, she chose bowling. We haven’t been bowling as a family in YEARS -since Trenton was too little to play.

The kids were a crack up. They’d get their ball, hold it on their shoulder:

RUN toward the lane and HEAVE that heavy ball toward the pins.

And then we’d watch the balls roll so slowly down the lane that we could’ve ran to the snack booth and back before they reached the pins.

We played two games and had a great time (thanks to the gutter bumpers).

For the first time since April (or May?) I went to Zumba! You know the saying, “Do one thing everyday that scares you”?

Zumba is that one thing.

I have no rhythm, no cute work out clothes, and no booty to shake. But I go and laugh at myself. I think it’s healthy.

Lastly.

This is pretty much a second Christmas for me.

When Alice was two weeks old, my awesome brother and his awesome wife took some newborn pictures of her!!! I’ve never had newborn pictures done before, and I didn’t have hardly any props or ideas. Thanks goodness Mike and Brittany know their way around the picture business! They did an amazing job -Alice was awake through the first half, and awake babies are harder to photograph than asleep babies. They were so patient with us! I am ecstatic with the results.

Every time I look at them, my heart just swells with love and pride and love and love and LOVE! Alice is so precious.

She has been the newborn I’ve enjoyed the most. It isn’t that she’s always happy or sleeps well because honestly: she’s a bit cranky and she sleeps about three or four hours at a time at night. I get up twice at night every night.

Maybe it’s because I’ve had two babies before, so I’m not as nervous. Or maybe I realize now how fast they grow up. Or maybe I realize how EASY a newborn is compared to little kids who can REASON with you.

Newborns just lie there and coo and poop and make you feel like a million bucks just being near them.

And I will say that Miss Alice is much bigger than her body. I can FEEL her -she has a sort of grown-up presence. I find myself not wanting to share her because I’m selfish. I’ve even been known to protest when my husband wants a turn.

He argues that I get to hang out with her all day.

Psh.

So?

Here’s a small sample of my beautiful babies! My blog is too weak to handle the file size of my pictures, and I’m too short on time to resize all of my favorites. (I just let my facebook followers know about my morning… while kicking this post out, I was also making breakfast and bathing my daughter. My baby was fussing… and my son? was cutting his own hair. I’ve somehow how to get us all dressed and ready for the day so we can head out and get a birth certificate and then my boy and I are scheduled for cavity fillings. And then I’m teaching piano lessons this afternoon. I’m scared of today).

I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since… I don’t know when.
That’s my excuse for forgetting two of my Post-Partum Must-Haves.

I’ll get to them in a second. But first!

The past few days have been the most difficult thus far into the whole “three kids” thing. I was really grouchy because -I was sure -my kids were just being complete handfuls. or the house was just impossible to keep up with. or I was so sleep-deprived…
the list goes on.

I haven’t been taking my Happy Pills -mentioned in my last post-partum post -because I felt like I didn’t really need them. I haven’t experienced any post-partum depression symptoms, so I have just been keeping them on hand for later on should I need them. Yesterday I felt like I should take two, so I took them in the morning. I didn’t feel a change at all.
As I got ready for the day, I was consumed with negative thoughts.

Since having the baby, I haven’t felt pretty -not at all, ever, not even once or a little bit. It doesn’t help that my beauty routine is pretty much non-existent. Even if I did have some time alone to just curl my hair or paint my toes, I’d sleep instead. Seriously.
I thought about this as I threw make-up on my face.
I stared at my baby pouch on my belly.
I thought about how I needed to be reading more with my daughter, spending more one-on-one time with my son who is struggling with the change of a new baby in our home… how I need to be teaching him pre-schoolish stuff at home because I don’t have him enrolled anywhere, how I need to clean the laundry room, vacuum, shampoo the carpets!
feed my family better!
eat less junk!
exercise!
do my calling better… do my visiting teaching, make my bed…
And that’s when it hit: a granite ball was dropped inside my body, and as it settled I heard AND BELIEVED the words:

You’re a terrible person: unattractive and incapable.

I went through the motions of the day, and suddenly -around 2 pm -a switch was flipped, a light turned on… I felt complete peace. The granite ball was shattered into pieces and removed.
I was patient, more loving, softer, kinder… and WHAT A RELIEF it was to realize that the woman I was before 2 pm yesterday WAS NOT ME at all! I had seriously believed that it was! I believed that I Was inherently grouchy and a grand housewifery failure.
But I’m not.
My hormones were just way outta whack -and what a relief that’s what it was! The person I was after 2 -the happier woman -THAT is me.
Being back to myself put me more at ease. I didn’t fuss over the dishes. I didn’t worry about the laundry in the hallway. I taught a piano lesson, I laughed with my kids, I fed my baby, I snuggled my baby, I watched TV with all of my babies, and I relaxed.

This is the FIRST time since I’ve had my baby that I noticed a 180 degree difference in my emotional state because of my pills.
It is NOT in my head.
I shudder to think what state I’d be in without my pills. The simple fact that I have a CURE on hand for out-of-control negative thinking -a granite ball-blasting miracle! -is a gigantic blessing in my life AND the life of my family.
Who suffers when Mom hates herself? Mom does. But so does her family.

My husband has stood by and watched how much my pills have helped, and he’s now suggesting that I buy the gear to start encapsulating placentas for local ladies.
Two short months ago, if you had asked us about placenta pills, we would have gagged and yammied in your face.
But now? We mostly think everyone should at least KNOW about them, have the option of them.
I’m scared to try encapsulation on my own. I could always practice on a roast. (Please tell me that makes you laugh. It makes me laugh.)

I’m mulling the idea of starting up a business… I can’t RIGHT NOW, but when the baby gets a little bigger? I bet I could. And I could make up my own Mother’s Milk Tea and cookies to sell! Wouldn’t that be awesome? It would be awesome.
I’ll keep you updated on what I decide. I still need to do more research (including talking it over with my Midwife Granny) and, of course, pray about it.
Prayer was what brought me to placenta pill popping in the first place.

Thank you for letting me share my experience with you -it was monumental to me.
Moving on with my post-partum list. We left off after #7.
So.

#8) My towel apron!

pattern found HERE
My best friend, Tia, was in town a few months ago. She brought me one of these aprons as a gift, and I am in LOVE! I use it all of the time! It was a life-saver during the sponge bath stage with Alice. I could put the apron on, lay the towel part on the counter (over a few towels stacked underneath for padding) and put my baby on top… when we were done, I could scoop her up and immediately put her close to my warm body. Now that she’s taking baths in her infant tub, I can scoop her right out of the water and hold her close which she LOVES. This gift is the best! It’s so easy to use.
When Tia came, I had to get a picture with her because we were both pregnant at the same time. A while back, I found some pictures on Pinterest and sent them to her, telling her we ought to re-enact them some day (I was 100% kidding).

via betwixtstudio.com
This is OUR version:

It’s pretty much the same.

#9) DoTERRA’s Family Physician Kit.

image via howdoesshe.com

I asked for this for Christmas, and then we got a new entertainment center that took up a huge chunk of our Christmas money… so I told my husband “nevermind about the oils. I can get them later.”
We promised not to get each other gifts.
And my husband completely surprised me with this kit! I could NOT be happier! I have used it pretty much everyday. I put drops of lavender in Miss Alice’s bath, I rub down my Jillian Michaels-induced aches with Deep Blue. I rub Frankincense on the kid’s scrapes and cuts.
And I’m able to help calm Alice’s gas with DigestZen. I rub it on the bottom of her feet. Something I’m eating is upsetting her stomach. I can’t figure out what it is -believe me, I’ve tried and tried -and this oil has come to our rescue. I rub it on the bottom of her feet at night, and while it doesn’t provide immediate relief, it does help her out. I want to keep nursing her because she’s so healthy and gaining weight so fast! I hope her little tummy can mature out of whatever is bothering her soon! Poor kid.
This kit is definitely a must have at our house.
I thanked my husband with a full body massage using lavender and Breath essential oils (diluted in extra virgin olive oil). He slept BETTER than a baby.
Much better than a baby.
Much, much better.

I don’t know if you know this, but babies don’t actually sleep as much as people think they do.

But she’s still adorable. Even, I now know, from the hours of 1:30 am to 3 am.

#1) Jillian Michaels workout DVDs ought to strapped to a five pound bag of epsom salts… like a combo pack. You can not buy one without the other. You will NEED both.

#2) I’m not trying to lose weight because I know from past babies that trying to lose weight while nursing is impossible. For me.

#3) When I work out, I eat much better. I have to work out or I’ll raise a sugar-addicted baby.

#4) My kids named BOTH of the kittens “Fluffy” which just doesn’t sit well with me.

#5) I have a tendency to take matters into my own hands when things don’t sit well with me.

#6) I named our grey kitten with white paws Spats.

#7) I realize that spats are what gansters wear over black shoes. See?

via manhandslizzie.wordpress.com
#8) I like to call the kitten over in my best 1920’s Mafia Boss voice, “Eh, SPATS!”

#9) When I was in high school, I wanted to live in 1920… and marry a mafia boss.

#10) When I was in high school, I once dated a guy and found out through chance that he secretly wanted to BE a mafia boss. I knew then that we were made for each other. What other evidence did I NEED other than the fact that we both wanted to live imaginary lives?!?!

#11) Sometimes I look up my old boyfriends on facebook and rejoice in my marriage. Not just for my sake. I’m 100% sure I would have made any one of my old boyfriends miserable.

#12) Of all the simplest pleasures in life, cooking is one of my favorites. I always forget how much I love it until I don’t do it for a month or two. Right now, I’m squeezing in every bit of cooking that I possibly can. Each finished recipe does my soul good.

#13) Last night while I was busy not cooking but making dinner (from a box that came out of the freezer section), I pulled out some old school cookbooks I keep around and browsed through them. As soon as I can, I’ll be spitting out some awesome old-timey goodies and posting them on my dusty cooking site.

#14) For Christmas, my Aunt Julie C. gave me a reprinted version of a 1904 cookbook (my joy is complete). It includes recipes for every variety of cooked game (squirrel, anyone?) and also has a very to-the-point recipe for calf’s head. You leave the skin on. Who’dda thought? Incidentally, it is the second cookbook I own that includes a recipe for squirrel. You MIGHT be interested to know that cooked squirrel was one of Patsy Cline’s favorite dishes, and she often ate it with Loretta Lynne. I don’t know why I keep tidbits like that locked up in my brain but can’t seem to remember where I put my phone. One of life’s little mysteries…

#15) I’m saving up money to get my blog redesigned. I’d like it to look like a feminine version of THIS site. It’s going to cost a lot.

#16) I wish I made money blogging.

#17) I wish I made money writing.

#18) It isn’t good enough to WISH things -one must DO!

#19) I don’t know how to go about using blogging and/or writing to make money.

#20) Sometimes when I have a low motivation level, I made bread. Making bread is fun for me to do, but it also gives me a gigantic sense of accomplishment, and if my husband calls or asks what I’ve done that day, I can say with a tired sigh, “I made bread.” It sounds fantastic, and he thinks I’m amazing.

#21) I’m baking bread today.