#todayilaughed

Sweet Pea has a new favorite game. 

You haven't lived until you've played rock, paper, scissors, shoe. Shoe has a laser beam. 

Doing homework with Sunshine

Me: draw three things Native Americans used

Sunshine traces her hand. 

Sunshine: they used their hands for digging

Me: what else?

Sunshine draws the American flag. 

I giggle. 

Sunshine: what? They flew the Native American flag. 

Sweet Pea: I gonna spell Grammy. 

O L D. Grammy. 

#mcchauvanism

*steps up on feminist soapbox*

*sets fire to oppressive under garments*

Ehem

Dear McDonald's

I realize that the mere fact I'm choosing to nourish my child with your "food" probably negates the following rant. But nonetheless...

When ordering a Happy Meal, why do you need to know the gender of my child? Instead ask me if my child would like to grow up to be a grotesque slutty Barbie or an engineer. 

Ask me if she'd rather choose a letter and number to figure out her Monster Slut name (the results of which don't even make sense. 4+D=Claw-Elle? Really?)

Or would she rather play with a Hex Bug robot, test her knowledge and exercise her brain a bit with a cryptic message that uses math principles in the decoding process?

I thought by answering "girl" you might follow up with "monster slut or science nerd?" But apparently according to McDonalds, girl=monster slut. Girl doesn't equal boy. No way. No how. Your employee almost seemed offended when I said "she's a girl but wants the hex bug." 

"Oh so your daughter wants the boy's toy?" He replied confused. 

I was just happy she was too busy telling her sister about her favorite part of the Lego Movie to hear that comment. 

For the record McD's, my little girl's uterus doesn't stop her from being the official class bug catcher. She actually really digs science and tries not to let that surplus of X chromosomes get in the way too much. 

Thanks for asking questions though. The one about apples or Gogurt was a good one. She stuck to her gender and chose the apple. Hopefully she doesn't give it to a boy at school and doom her kind for all eternity. 

Sincerely 

Mother of two future Monster Hoochies

#snacktime

As we're lying in bed reading the Oriental Trading Company mag that my child chose as a bedtime story, we come across suckers that look like used Qtips. 

This isn't all that odd since it's the Halloween edition. 

What is odd is when Sunshine casually says "yeah I ate someone's ear wax once. It was gross."

After I composed myself I asked whose earwax she was sampling. She tells me "I don't know his name. I was just hungry."

My daughter ladies and gentlemen. 

#candyland

I suffered a completely unexpected emotional breakdown the week my Sunshine started kindergarten. If you asked her kinder was just kind of crummy. The school was too big, the days were too long, and she missed her mommy and sister during the day.


If you asked me she was missing out on the magic and happiness of what is supposed to be one of the best years of her life. She was having anxiety attacks and being forced into a neat little public school box that I was desperate to free her from. My usually spunky girl was solemn and downtrodden as she marched into the gymnasium. My little ray of Sunshine who used to beg to go to preschool on days she had violent stomach bugs was now vehemently against walking through those kinder doors. There's a very lovely alternative down the road at her old preschool. They love children. They do amazing but age-appropriate things with children. But most of all they understand children.


I was three minutes from the doors of her elementary school to withdraw her when my husband told me to slow my roll. I couldn't just pull her out of public school because of one bad week. I hadn't even given it the old college try. Public school is the answer in his eyes. And he kindly informed me that it was high time our 5-year-old grew up. Really? At 5. Now we've decided they need to "grow up" at 5? I almost barfed up my bagel.


She needs to face adversity, he said. She needs to realize that there are rules in the world. She's not always going to have fun. She's not always going to like her teacher. There are good times and there are bad. She needs to learn this because after all she's 5. She needs to grow up. She needs to learn.


I cried a lot that day. I cried for my child who was feeling scared. I cried for the things I knew she was missing out on. I cried for the jealousy I felt as I saw my friends post pictures of their elated children who were going to the little kinder down the road. I cried for the picture my daughter drew of her first day of school of the blue sad face with tears. I cried and cried.


Once it was time to pick her up from the institution, I had no more tears. Just a desperate feeling of mommy guilt and confusion. I felt torn between what I should do. Between what was best for my child. I wanted her to be happy and enjoy kindergarten, but maybe Hubs was right. Maybe she does need to face a little disappointment. Maybe she needs to learn to play by the rules a little more.


I asked how her day went, but her face said it all. I didn't want to talk about it anymore, and neither did she. We headed home in silence.


When we walked in the door I fixed her a snack and asked if she wanted to read or play a game. She lit up and asked if we could play Candyland. I'm a sucker for some Hasbro, so we grabbed a spot on the rug and shuffled the cards.


We quickly refreshed our memories on the rules. Pretty simple. Draw the card, move the spaces, don't land in the licorice pit and get to King Kandy's Castle.


Sweet Pea wanted to "play" too, but about halfway through the game we realized she was only interested in the orange cards because "Owange is my fave-itt." Sunshine tried to guide her by drawing her cards or moving her pieces for her, but it was futile. She'd skip ahead three green spaces instead of two, and when she drew Grandma Gooey's card she decided she'd rather go back to the Duke of Swirl.


It was funny to see Sunshine get a little frustrated and then finally give an exasperated sigh. She realized that sometimes not everyone plays by the rules, but it's ok. All you can do is worry about yourself. You can try and help them, but if they're not willing to help themselves you have to leave them in the licorice pit and move on.


We were both hanging out in the Gumdrop Mountains when I drew the card leading me directly to Princess Frostine. She's only a hop skip away from King Kandy's Castle, so without a big plunge back to Lord Licorice or the likes, it looked like my victory was sealed.


Sunshine's face was indignant. I could see in her eyes how unfair she felt this situation was. But she surprised me. Instead of an outburst or a cry of injustice, she simply took a deep breath and said "I don't care! That's fine! I might still win."


She didn't win. I spanked her in about two turns. But she held out hope, and I could not have been prouder. It wasn't over until I crossed that sugary bridge. That kid knows perseverance.


I celebrated my victory without rubbing it in, because I wanted to demonstrate sportsmanship. Plus this is the kid that reaaaaalllly really hates to lose. But again, to my surprise, she didn't huff and puff at her loss. Instead she quietly said "Congratulations."


I hugged her and thanked her for being such a great sport. I told her I know it is tough to lose, but it's even tougher to lose gracefully. I was mega impressed.


Then I taught her one more thing. I quickly scooped up the cards, gave them a good shuffle and reset the game pieces. My victory was short-lived, but so was her loss. Just as quick as I won, she took me to the cleaners with a Grandma Gooey Hail Mary draw. That second game may have been the quickest ever played, and she came out on top. After a wicked happy dance she kindly told me that we could play again and maybe I could win next time.


In life she is going to face adversity. She is going to have to learn the rules. She'll see that sometimes other people don't play by the rules. Sometimes other people get all the glory, or they get the promotion, or they win the soccer game. But throwing her into a stressful situation is not the age-appropriate way to teach her to "deal" with these life lessons. She doesn't need to grow up.


She needs Candyland.


She is 5. Candyland taught her all she needs to know right now about life. Worry about your own gingerbread man. Keep hoping for that Princess Frostine, but celebrate those double purple draws too. And when life sticks you in the licorice pit, just keep your head up. There's always next game.

#quirky

My Sunshine has always been...quirky. She's always had a little "extra" that's just really defined what made her HER. She's very bright and bubbly and compassionate. But boy is she EXTRA sometimes. 

I always chalked the quirks up to a combo of my parenting style and her genetics. I'm a bit scatterbrained and love to be spontaneous. Her dad has an ADHD diagnosis that I'm convinced is the reason he's incredibly successful and driven. But that combo convinced me that she was just a little higher maintenance than her peers. 

The day she was born she took 22 hours of pitocin before she decided to come unwillingly down the birth canal. I swear after three hours of pushing she finally loosened her grasp on my trachea or whatever she was clutching to. And at 7:53 pm she came screaming into the world. 

It was a long day for all of us and as I looked down at this tiny creature I felt a wave of euphoria and exhaustion all at once. 

I was ready for a Big Montana and some shut eye. But Sunshine had things to see. She stayed wide-eyed and alert for 4 hours after her birth. It wasn't until I had Sweet Pea that I realized that birth usually tires babies out quite a bit. 

Not my Sunshine. In fact she didn't sleep more than 15 minutes at a time that entire first night. Again I knew nothing of "normal". I only knew Sunshine. I also knew there was something she didn't trust about being placed in that bassinet. She only felt safe in my arms. 

So I did the unthinkable. I pulled her into my hospital bed and we slept. 

Her whole childhood was filled with breaking my "rules" that I set before motherhood. Bed sharing was a huge no no. Weak parenting I said. 

Breast feeding past a year? Ew! If they're old enough to ask for it they're too old to get it right? ...too bad newborns ask for it in such a whiny voice. I wasn't able to take it away when she could use the King's English. She needed it. I was her lovey. I was her coping mechanism. 

Just a few months before her second birthday I gave in to social pressures and took away her security booby. It was time to grow up. At 2. Because that makes sense. 

I got pregs with Sweet Pea a few seconds after I weaned Sunshine. It was a year of potty training and cry it out and sleep by yourself and quit throwing tantrums. It was pure hell. But I had to do this. Because. Because...well because I was "suppose to."

I don't know who THEY are but I listened to THEY a lot in those years.

They say kids need to sleep alone. They say they need to nurse for exactly 365 days. They say to put your foot down. You're the authority. They say "because I said so." Explaining yourself to a toddler is futile. They say they can't be reasoned with. 

Well they were wrong. 

My Sunshine started kindergarten last week. I thought I'd tap dance down the halls to freedom. But something wasn't right. 

I knew it weeks before but I tried to push it out of my mind. That is until I stumbled upon an article about sensory processing disorders. Damn you Dr. Google. She fit the description perfectly. 

The tantrums, the naked obsessions, the sock aversions. They were all "normal kid" stuff. Until you paired them with everything else. 

She got her diagnosis the week before kindergarten. I still can't bring myself to call it a disorder. It's just different. Not wrong. She's a sensory seeker. It explains why she hugs way too tight and barrels into her friends giggling even as they plead for her to stop. It's often misdiagnosed as ADHD.

I start thinking about Hubs. I'm certain he was misdiagnosed and wrongly drugged. But when you know better you do better. SPD doesn't need drugs. 

We are just beginning occupational therapy to give Sunshine the sensory input she needs. We call it Super Hero Training Camp since they're there to find her super powers (like supersonic hearing) and fine tune them. I'm not even close to bummed about the diagnosis. It means she IS normal. In fact most gifted children have some sort of sensory processing issues. So the kid I thought was just average is actually probably quite gifted. I'm afraid if sounding like that high and mighty "gifted" mother. But it's a bright spot in a shady path, so I'll own it. 

The first week of school was rough. Lots and lots of tears. But by Friday I'd figured out how to hold myself together. 

I've met with teachers and counselors and principals who all tell me what a bright, compassionate, amazingly wonderful child I have. And they're more than happy to do whatever it takes to have a successful year with my spunky girl. 

We've got a long road. And there will be days that my Sunshine comes home on yellow instead of purple. But we've had a long talk about what that means. Her self worth will not be defined by a clothespin or a color chart. It will be determined by her and her alone. 

And we will also celebrate her. Because no great innovator in history ever fit nearly into the little box. They were hell raisers. They were different. And that's what made them great. 

So I will celebrate my girl. Because quirks and  all she is my Sunshine. My only Sunshine. We see some clear skies, and some are gray. But I hope it's so clear, how much I love her. And how I'd never wish those little quirks away. 

#dancingdownthehall

Welp I did it. I made it out of the building before I started bawling like an idiot. At first my husband was startled. 

"What are you doing?" He asked half laughing. 

"She's gone!" I wailed. My baby was gone. Kindergarten had her now. 

I was always the mom who figured I'd be dancing down the halls when my kid went to kinder. All that freedom. I could just taste it. 

But the grass was not greener on the other side of the playground. 

The day I once thought would be filled with peace and Starbucks was in fact filled with deafening silence and a k-cup. 

I'd intended to run home, grab the library books and pick up a decadent cup of coffee with Sweet Pea before hitting the town. Instead I cried so long in my driveway letting Sweet Pea drown out my wails with a Strawberry Shortcake DVD that my car battery died. 

I trudged unwillingly into my empty house. 

The first hour was bad. It didn't feel right to be in the playroom with Sweet Pea. We were missing our director. I didn't know what to play or do without The Boss dictating my every move. 

But Sweet Pea did. She toddled over to the little piano and began to pick out a tune. She belted out Jingle Bells and Happy Birthday like it was her job. I never noticed what a good singing voice she has. 

The day got better when my good pal brought me lunch. Her youngest started kinder, so chocolate martinis seemed appropriate. We wallowed in Godiva and misery, soaking our sorrows up with greasy chicken quesadillas. 

Just one more hour and she'd be home. 

Sweet Pea was so talkative. I never knew she had such a funny sense of humor. For a 2-year-old this kid has jokes. I think this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship I've never had the chance at. 

I wonder if Sunshine liked her lunch. 

The day was a blur. It flew by and crept slowly all at the same time. It's like when you get bad news or a relative dies. You just survive hour by hour. 

I waited anxiously in the hall watching each class march past. Kids eagerly greeted parents and I could actually hear each mother sigh relief once she caught sight of her young. Back from the jungle. 

Then I spotted my girl. Line leader thankyouverymuch. Marching like a good duckling right behind her teacher. 

She spotted me. I waved and grinned like a fool. Her teacher gave her the signal. She bounded toward me arms wide, smile beaming!!!....

Right into her sister's embrace. They hugged silently for at least 3 minutes before I, the woman who gave her life, even got a hello. 

But I did get my hello...and the tightest squeeze there ever was.

We survived our first day. And that is when I danced down the hall. 

#buildabear

Winning at parenting is when your two-year-old tells you "I yuv dis yidda bear. We get him at build a bear"

But you know in your heart you got it for a dollar at Dollar General. 

#sunshinesays

Sunshine: I'm in love with Cole. I'm going to marry him. But today I asked kaylen if he picks up all his toys and takes care of them and doesn't rip them. And he said yes. So I'm in love with Kaylen too! Ugghhh it's so hard to decide who to marry. 

Me: yeah it's tough. Get your education and worry about your Ph.D. Not your Mrs. 

Sweet Pea: I'm a dog but I'm Ariel. Look at my big tail! I poop out of it. But I like my big poop tail. 

Sunshine: mommy how much is 5 cents?

Me: well a nickel is 5 cents

Sunshine: a nipple??! Who gets paid in nipples!? Nipples! Nipples! 5 cents a nipple!

Me: ...well actually...ok nevermind

Me: omigosh did you fart!?

Hubs: bwahahaaaaa

Me: dude no. That's sick!! Staaaahhhppppppp 

Sunshine: (from the backseat) I like the smell! I like farts...

Hubs: high five! That's my girl! 

Me: pull over. I'm out

#naked

Exactly one week shy of my 30th birthday I published my very first book. For nearly a decade I've been writing a column called Naked Salsa for Our Town magazine, and I'm so excited to announce that Naked Salsa the book is now available on Amazon! My mom always said it takes 10 years of hard work to reach a big goal, and in this case she was dead on.

To celebrate I'd like to announce my first giveaway! Just download the Kindle version of Naked Salsa, and leave a review on Amazon. I'll put all those names (even those who leave scathing reviews) in a generator and select one lucky reader to receive an autographed paperback copy. (Scathing reviewers are welcome to use it in their bathrooms or birdcages as they see fit.)

If you can't wait for an autographed copy, click the Buy It Now link to the right --->

 
Mobile users might have to view the full web version. 


I want to thank everyone who has helped get this project off the ground, especially P.C. Zick and Albert Isaac, who were not only my editors but also my inspiration to put this thing together.


And I'd like to thank all of you! A book without readers is like a burger without bacon. It exists, but what's the point?


So thank you my bacon bits.

#noobs

I just wanted to say a quick hello to any newbies joining our preschool adventures from Scary Mommy! So happy to have you on board.

Just to catch you up I'm a totally rad fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants mother of two wonderfully adorable little monsters. I started this blog to document some of the hilarious...yeah we'll use the word hilarious...things that my girls do and say. My theory on parenting is that if you can't laugh you'll drink. Sometimes you drink so you can laugh, and that's okay too.


I recently embarked on a side job cooking another mama's bun in my oven, so my blogging time will be split between my preschool problems and Her Eggs My Basket. Being a surrogate mother should provide plenty of preschool blog fodder, especially since I'm not even pregnant yet and my sweet Sunshine likes to jiggle my belly and ask if that baby is done hatching.


So thanks for joining, and I hope you enjoy commiserating in our preschool problems.

#literature

Oh the feels! My child. Flesh of my flesh. She came to me today and asked me to help her write a story.

I'd gone to Target and picked by far the best thing they've ever carried in their dollar section: a pack of blank books. It's just a writer's dream. Yes I could staple my own pieces of printer paper together, but it's not the same. These pages were specifically born to be books! And now my dear Sunshine wanted to fill the pages with her own ideas. *bliss*

She sat down and got to work on some illustrations. Apparently there is a pressing need for a book about My Little Ponies, and she was just the girl to fill that void. She crafted some seriously impressive ponies while her sister stood next to her and softly sang songs about her butt. Optimum creative conditions here.

After a quick lunch break she was ready to get to writing. I started to try and hand write the story, but she's just too fast for me. I grabbed my laptop instead and this is word for word what she came up with:


The Mongoose Scares the Spirits
By Sunshine

Once upon a time in a deep scary castle there was three spirits and three of their pets. A mongoose, a dog and a monkey. They all lived in a spooky castle together. Then one thing changed. They all wanted to make their owner scared. Then Blythe came in with the Biscuit twins, and the Biscuit twins are mean, but then she became friends with them. They changed because Blythe helped them.

They saw the spooky castle and started to run away, but the Biscuit twins realized this was their old house when they were babies. They never knew what it looked like, but it looked awful. So they moved. They became friends with Clyde, and then Clyde said okay let’s be friends. They started to have a sleepover. Then they liked the sleepover and decided to go to Clyde’s house for a sleepover.

The End.

It may not be J.K. Rowling, but it was original and off the cuff. I have to at least give her props for that.

I'm the mega nerd that wrote a children's book for my kids starring them as the main characters. And recently I used them as a test audience for a book I wrote for my future surrogate baby.

My little Sunshine is so bright, so I know that she's going to do great things. I'm dying for her to follow her passion for science and math because those are the areas I really feel I am lacking. I want her so badly to follow in her daddy's footsteps and become a great scientist or an engineer.

But I can't say I didn't love it when she looked up at me in the middle of working on her book and said, "Mommy I want to be a writer just like you."

#surprise

Sunshine is all about surprises lately. My mom always did super fun spontaneous stuff with us and I totally delight in it as well. 

So tonight I overheard Sunshine plotting with Sweet Pea tonight to plan a surprise wedding for me and The Hubs. Precious.

 

I sneak around the corner and ask her what's up. 

"Oh nothing! Just planning a wedding for...Daddy!"

Oh really? For Daddy huh?

"Yeah he met a nice girl down the block. And he's going to marry her. Sorry but he's marrying someone else."

Oh. Bummer. Uhm what's her name?

"Oh umm her name is Fleaona. It's hard to pronounce so I'm just going to call her Mom."

Ouch. Soooo I guess I'm not going to be your mom anymore?

Then she gets a little sad. "Well no but I will really miss you. Fleaona is nice but yeah I will miss you."

Yeah well she sounds trashy. So what am I supposed to do with my life?

"You can marry somebody or not marry somebody. You can just craft or something. Maybe you could just be my grandma." 

And that's how my surprise vow renewal turned me into a divorced crafty grandmother ladies and gentlemen. 

True story. 

Sunshine Says...

I decided to dedicate an entire page of this blog to things that Sunshine and Sweet Pea say. Simply because these two are never-ending fountains of wisdom and inappropriateness.


Check it out.

#sweetdreams

This morning my little Sunshine sat up in bed, rubbed her sleepy eyes and sighed. I know all this because it was my bed she snuggled into at 3 a.m. I asked why she came and got in Mommy's bed last night and she said because she had a dream and wanted to make sure Daddy was back.
"What was your dream about," I asked as she romped around with her sister on the bed. And this was her reply:

In my dream I dreamed there was snow in a grocery store. And angel stuff. I made snowballs and Mimi and PawPaw and you and my sister were there. And Daddy. And I got my ear in the mailbox (WTF?!) and I got snow in my ear (Yowza). But I was OK. My Daddy was somewhere else in the grocery store looking for cake (good man). And I drank Coke. It was at Sam's. (Of course it was)

As the day progressed I noticed that my little darling was being such an angel! Her behavior was so top notch I thought about filing a missing person's report. On our way home from her opthamologist appointment I was singing her praises for such stellar behavior, to which she replied "Well that's what happens when I drink Coke in the night."

Well if that's all it takes is imaginary soft drinks...I've been barking up the wrong tree all along.

#squirrelmilk

So you know that moment when you're about to breast feed a baby squirrel? Well that was me yesterday.
It all started when Hubs found a nest in the nook in our roof. He went to spray insulation in the attic that had been torn out to make said nest, and while he's spraying a baby squirrel jumps through the foam. The poor bugger is covered in this hardening goop so Hubs traps him in a pillowcase. He got as much goop off as possible but Skitters ran off into the backyard with a shell of insulation on his tail and paws. Who knows what will become of him.

So here I am bawling in the laundry room over this little squirrel who might not survive when what do I see out the window but another baby squirrel. Just laying there trembling. Well I'm already in a state because of Skitters, so hubs goes out to check on this one to see if he's hurt. Well little Chipper runs away to our ac unit barking at anyone who dares come near him. Oh and crying desperately for his mama.

Hubs has perspective. These are rodents who have the potential to set our house on fire by chewing wires etc. But all I see is a scared baby whose mama is probably worried sick, and I'm crushed. 

I start trying to research how old these fuzz buckets are, and I decide they're about 8 weeks. They still need mama but will be evicted soon. Still I am concerned. 

My natural instinct is to feed and warm him, but what can baby squirrels eat? Well I note that first and foremost they still take mama's milk. We dont keep cow's milk in the house because of Sweet Pea's sensitivity. She's still taking her mama's milk too. 

So here we are friends. I'm a grown woman searching the house for my breast pump to play wet nurse to a baby squirrel.  

There comes a point in every marriage where your loyalties are tested. And yesterday was that day. It's no secret that I'm a bit of a lactivist. I try to normalize breastfeeding by just doing it whenever and wherever my kid needs it. Not really to make a statement other than "look its a boob. It's working. And it's not porn. And you don't have to stuff dollars in my bra (you can just set them on the bench)." 

And with all his faults and for all the times hubs acts like a real meat head, he has always been a huge supporter of the way I nourish our babies. He's the one who put the bumper sticker on my car that says "if my breast feeding offends you feel free to put a blanket over your head."

So rather than having me committed for trying to save a baby squirrel with human boob juice, he went on about his business trying to find little Chipper's mama. 

I never found my pump, but he found Mama. And the next day I put Chipper's little bed of towels near mama's favorite tree and she found him. 

I was telling this story to a friend and she was dying at the absurdity. But while I see the humor, I don't really see all the crazy? Isn't that what we as mothers should do? Help each other? There's so much judgment and competition between mothers now. Formula vs. breast milk. Natural birth vs. c-section. Rodent vs. human. We're all just mothers. We want to do the best WE can for our kids. Not what other moms can. But the best WE can as their mom.  We want our kids to be strong and smart and the fastest kid on the soccer team. We want them to walk the earliest and talk before they turn 1 and read before they are 3 and color a picture of a bear like nobody's business. 

But above all, as mothers we all want our children to feel happy, healthy and safe. 

So that's what I did. I tried to keep another mother's baby safe. I didn't hand her a pamphlet about the benefits of human breast milk. Her squirrel milk is probably fine. I didn't judge her choice of bedding. Insulation is soft, so clearly those squirrel pups are just SIDS waiting to happen. Especially because I can only assume she *gasp* co-sleeps with them. 

But I passed no judgment on that mama. Instead I looked out for her most precious gift. I had her back in her time of need. Maybe if we all committed to breast feeding a squirrel, the world might be a safer and more loving place. Bring back a sense of community to this harsh world. 

Yeah I'll just be waiting in my room for the straight jacket. I'm about a size 5....Ok a 7. Don't judge me. 

#Estatesaletreasures

Hubs left town and a lot of things happened. I didn't do laundry four days in a row, we won't talk about the large chili tots, and I got possessed by the Pinterest Devil.
It all started when I bought Sunshine a new piggy bank that digitally displays your total savings. She was itching to lower that total, and I'd seen signs around the neighborhood for an estate sale just around the corner. I must have remembered my ambition potion that morning because I thought I would take the jogging stroller and go for a run to the sale.

Despite Sunshine's inspirational fashion choice, Sweet Pea's face pretty much sums up the trip. I quickly realized why I don't see many runners in our neighborhood. I braved a smooth incline with some breathlessness and pride, but as soon as I came upon what I can only describe as a 90 degree stairway to heaven, I turned my winded butt around and went to get the van.

We piled in and drove around the corner, and in my defense even the Mazda had some trouble with the hill. 

There's something about walking around a person's house and saying "ooh I'll take that" that is kind of dirty and wrong but soooo delicious. And Sunshine is no help with self control since she wanted everything she saw as well. For instance, I found my dream dining table and put in a bid on that sucker. But what really grabbed us was a box in the corner filled to the brim with random craft supplies.

Yes reader, I do have a giant walk in closet jammed with Rubbermaid bins full of craft supplies. But who on earth can pass up an entire gallon Ziploc of wine corks!? Who I ask you?
Not to mention I had something to prove since I was just did the walk of shame home from the unclimbable mountain. And that's when the holy Pinterest spirit engulfed me and $28 later I entered into a weekend of DIY bliss.
My findings:
6 brand new picture frames
1 Gallon of wine corks
1 Gallon of colored popsicle sticks
1 Bag wooden dowels
1 stack of multicolored scrapbook borders
4 Stackable shelf organizers

Sunny's loot:
1 Max Liquidator water blaster
1 beaded American flag necklace
1 purple floral hammer
1 brand new school grade recorder
1 planter box for her pizza garden sproutlets
1 bag of river rocks
1 bag of paint brushes

I'll put our projects in a separate posts, but suffice it to say my husband came home to a pile of dirty dishes and a wall full of art. Surprise honey! I'm Martha Frikkin Stewart...sorta. Like prison Martha... But less clean.