Just spray paint it.

Remember how I said I was spray painting everything in my house?  Well, I want to show you some of what I've transformed.

To start, I spray painted a table (that I'm using as a desk)... the sad news is, I was so nuts with excitement that I forgot to take a before picture.  However, once it was spray painted and I started to set up my desk, I decided I wanted to use a bulletin board that my aunt/cousin-in-law gave me when they were spring cleaning.  The bulletin board had an ivory, distressed frame that just looked weird against the stark white.  And since I already went bonkers with delight after painting my desk/table, the solution was obvious: spray paint!

The cork board couldn't be separated from the frame, so I had to cover the cork.  Here's the before:

And then I got down to business.

Always use a dirty face mask when spray painting.

And after:

 

I love befores-and-afters... let's compare again!

 

 

It just looks so fresh and happy to be alive!  Which is how my desk makes me feel.  Here is the "while I'm setting up" before:

The mirror was already there and it CLEARLY had to go.  I had a blasty blast at Staples, getting my new supplies!  The desk area still needs a lot of work, but here's the temporary after shot:

Woohooo!!  (See the bulletin board??)

Let's compare:

 

Let's just say it: OMG.  I am so happy -- I had no idea how much I missed a little creative spot until I got my cute lil desk.  Just so you know, the base of the table was all black (it's heavy, icky metal), and the tabletop was a fake brown wood (think cafeteria table).  It's just a breath of fresh air, folks.

Oh, and I got spray-paint-happy:

 

Everything needs to be white now, ya know.

More desk shots:

Needs some organizational work, but whatever, it's still cute.

I have been throwing glue and scissors all over the place, and my Etsy shop is just days from opening.  So keep an eye out because you will soooo want to see how awesome I am.  

Psh, Etsy is so cool right now.  Like owls.

The Secret of 1:30

I am pausing my cleaning, living, spray painting everything in my house (not really... but kind of), taking care of a baby with a cold (well, I'm still doing that), and general busyness to let you guys in on a little secret I discovered.  It's the secret of 1:30pm.

You know how sometimes you're rollin' along, you woke up early, you're totally owning the day... and then somewhere down the line you unwittingly roll down a hill, open your eyes, and realize it's 4:30 and -- despite feeling so productive earlier -- you suddenly feel as if you've wasted your day.  And, if not wasted, watched the day simply fly past you.  This has been a rather frequent occurrence in my life, up until recently.  I made a huge discovery.  1:30.  People, it doesn't matter WHAT you do in the morning or the late afternoon, as long as you let 1:30 define your day. You can be chillin' like a villain on Saturday morning, being totally lazy-bones, BUT if at 1:30 you slap on your garden gloves and start showing those weeds who's boss, 4:30 will roll around and you'll find that you've not only weeded the garden, but you've cleaned your entire house and maybe even built an entire house, too.  The same goes for a productive morning -- if you're productive all morning, but let 1:30 turn into 2:30 by scrolling through Pinterest nonsense, you will feel as if you've thrown the whole day out the window.  All you have to do is be aware of 1:30 and let 1:30 define your day.  Try it.  Your life will change.

What happened today with pictures from another day

Last week we did not get sucked up by a tornado.  In fact, there were far fewer tornadoes than the weathermen thought their would be... which made me kind of mad at the weathermen.  But then, I guess, God is the one who controls the weather, so I shouldn't be mad at the weathermen for not being omniscient.  They could at least try to act like they're not, though.

ANYWAY!  Today Caleb and I joined everyone and their hamster at Lowe's, getting spring things like flowers, mulch, and a watering can.  Isn't that fun?  I also got some spray paint to remake an old table that was sitting in one of our sheds -- its destiny is a corner of our home, where I will make it my awesome crafting station for my awesome Etsy shop that is just waiting for its grand opening.

This is Cabe's and my first experience with gardening, so it was really fun and really hubby-wifey of us.  Alice loooves being outside, so she enjoyed it, too!  I took absolutely no pictures of the day.  Pardon me for enjoying the day and not feeling pressured to take pictures for you spoiled blog readers (<--that's a joke, okay).

Since I took zero pictures of our day, here are some moments from Tuesday that I just didn't get around to posting!  We decided to have a random cookout and eat unhealthy [nitrate-free] hotdogs.  Supa fun!

Please, might I try a morsel?

They're pretty cute.

I hope your weekend is being nice to you!

Tornadoes Suck

Oklahoma: May 3, 1999 

Yeah, I said it.  And even though I refrain from using the word "suck" due to its super lameness, I'm using it here because it's the truth.

So, raise your hand if you're one of those weird Oklahomans who LIKES tornadoes!!  Because there are plenty of you guys and, let me tell you something, I don't know why.  Even people who are supposed to be afraid of things -- like English majors -- like them.  There are people here who grow up "watchin' tornadoes on the porch 'til it gets close, then we run inside."  I don't get it.  I never will.  Tornadoes suck HOUSES into the sky, okay?  Houses.  And people.  Why are they, in any way, shape, or form, cool to watch??

I am terrified of tornadoes and it just so happens that we have warnings of TWO nights of tornadoes coming our way.  In the night... in the dark... when you can't see them.  And after we brave one night -- assuming we live through it -- we have one more night ahead.  It's swell, really.

Allow me to say one more time how much I hate tornadoes.  I hate them more than wasps and math.  I would say that they are the scariest natural disaster, but recently Oklahoma experienced a few very mild earthquakes and they scared the pants off of me.  Nobody can warn you of an earthquake and you most certainly can't run from them... but tornadoes take a very strong second in the order of natural disaster fears.

In fact, the largest tornado on record occurred on my eleventh birthday, May 3.  I spent that evening just staring at a TV screen in tears.  I wouldn't put it past me to react the same way, at age 23.  I am the biggest baby when it comes to tornadoes.  The biggest.

So, if I survive the night, I'll see you people later.  Have a great weekend and, if you don't live in Texas or Oklahoma, have a great weekend, completely lacking in tornadoes.

If you'll excuse me, I have a runaway bag to pack before the skies are scheduled to send down their spinning demons.

Oh, Auntie Em.

Scenario:

I'm sitting at the table on my laptop.  Alice is on the floor, facing me, playing with toys. I'm flipping through someone's Facebook pictures, and come across someone's picture in which they are making a really weird face.  Naturally, I mimic the expression, contorting my face.

I hear a laugh from Alice.

Was she seriously laughing at my expression?

I look at her and make the face again.  She laughs.

At 7 months old, my kid has a sense of humor.
Best day.

A Bunch of Alice

Today was a relatively average day, sans Alice's almost continual grunts and whines throughout the day (which I can only assume were induced by teething pains).  But from the following pictures, you'd never know Little Picks had a rough day.

...and then I went outside and took a picture of her through the window.  She was confused, but remained adorable.

P.S.  Look out my new header(courtesy of husband)/layout/everything!!  I love it.  Do you?

When your little baby hugs you back

After taking Caleb to work in our one [working] car, Alice and I head back home.  Her 7-month checkup is this morning, so we'll need the car.  And "we" (meaning "Alice") will need a nap ASAP.  She's been ready for her morning nap for the past half hour, and finally fell asleep in her car seat.  But it's time to go inside -- as I lift the car seat out, she begins to stir and opens her eyes.  I put the car seat back in, unbuckle her, and as I lift her out,  I smell what can only be a poopy diaper.  Not only is it poopy, it's all over her onesie.  We get inside.  She's a little fussy, but still patient as I get her out of her clothes and start to change her diaper.  I'm talking her through it, cheering her along, and telling her how great she's handling it all, when she pees all over the changing pad.  "Oookay," is all you can say in such a situation... so I whip a diaper on her, lay her in the crib, put a new cover on the pad, get out new clothes, change her clothes, and we're ready to nurse.  She's distracted while nursing but between the pauses to gaze at the fan or to smile and chat, she finally eats her fill and I lay her down for her long awaited nap.  After I leave the room, she won't stop whining.  The whining turns to crying, so I go in and hold her upright, thinking she must have a burp that needs to come out.  But instead of arching her back, growling, or looking like an uncomfortable trapped burp makes a baby look, she just looks around the room.  I take her to the rocker and hold her like a newborn, all swaddled in her yellow blanky.

She's completely calm -- no fussing, just looking at me with a slight smile as I hold her.  We rock and I hum some of her favorite lullabies.  As I stare back at her while we rock, I realize that she wasn't crying in her crib because she was needy.  She didn't need a fresh diaper, dry clothes, or several pats on the back to prompt a burp.  I continue humming and watch her sweet eyelids begin to close over her blue eyes.  It's easy to get into a blind mode of helping the needy baby, responding to the needs, and doing the mundane (like peeling a poopy onesie off a little human's back).  Though my baby might be oblivious to the many things I do to help her, she does know that she's being taken care of and she knows how to want the person who gives that to her.  As I continued rocking and watched her breathing change to that sweet, slow and deep rhythm, I just wanted to cover her in kisses.  My little baby cried in her crib simply because she wanted more care and the comfort of that care. She wanted mommy.  It might seem super subtle and silly, but after the months of caring for a very sweet but very needy bundle, the calm baby who just wants her mommy is a neon sign that says, "I love you, too," and it couldn't make me happier.