Say It with Style Vinyl Giveaway WINNER (plus ...)

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Hey there, winner! Look out for an e-mail from me telling you how to get your Say It with Style gift card!

(I love making someone's day. I feel like Oprah, minus the ridiculous net worth.)

 Also ... everyone's a winner today, because Jessica is giving all my readers 25% OFF anything in her Etsy store! Suh-WEET. Just enter the code momtheintern at checkout!

I highly suggest you pick up one of these awesome erasable wall calendars because I've definitely put mine to good use.

Thank you for reading my blog! I sure do love y'all!

Clarify.

Since Bubby passed the early Kindergarten screening a few days ago, I've been getting a lot of questions about why I am choosing to put my daughter in school early. To be frank, it's really no one's business. I don't mean to be rude or condescending, but blunt, personal questions ellicit blunt responses. In case you are considering the same for your own child, though, I would like to share Bubby's background and the events leading up to my choice with you.

The decision to put Bubby in Kindergarten early was one I carefully made over a year ago. At that time, I was debating whether or not to enroll her in preschool. I knew if I did, she would be prepared for Kindergarten by the end of it. I also knew she would love preschool and flourish there. I didn't want to hold her back from an experience she was clearly ready for. She has always been ahead of the game -- physically, socially and mentally. She has zero reticence about being apart from us and has never had separation anxiety. She is tall for her age. She potty-trained early. Not to mention, she could actually sound out phonograms and READ before she was 3. I mean, you know you're in for it when your 2-year-old can easily complete a puzzle of the 50 states as well as name each one and its capital.

Bubby's clearly not an average child -- I began to realize this when, at 3 months old, she started imitating letter sounds -- and this fact has presented a dilemma for me. I KNOW the stats regarding older kids and their success. I've read the book Outliers, I've read all the internet articles about it, I've been told probably 100 times by now that I'll be doing my child a great disservice by putting her in Kindergarten early (a month and 11 days early, mind you) and guess what? I'm choosing that path for my child anyway.

As expected, Bubby loved preschool and excelled beyond her teachers' expectations. I know that Kindergarten will provide the same enrichment for her. She is beyond excited to go to school. Heck, she's still talking about how fun the test was and how she wants to take it again. The kid is a sponge who soaks up information like it's going out of style. She loves to learn and she loves to be tested on what she knows. And she really enjoys socializing with other kids. She is a natural at making friends. She's going to be fine.

I understand if you're concerned for my child's well-being. Don't assume these worries haven't crossed my mind. Every parent fears sending their child out into the world alone and I am not an exception. But I have thought this through, I have discussed it with like-minded parents, I've prayed about it and this is the right decision for our family. She will be attending half-day Kindergarten so she can ease into school a little slower (most schools here do not offer half-day). But she's ready, and I'm so excited for the adventures that lie ahead for my sweet, brilliant little girl.

P.S. -- I have disabled comments on this post. If you have questions, you can e-mail me at momtheintern @ gmail dot com.

P.P.S -- Don't forget about the giveaway! It ends on Monday so hurry and enter!)

Random thoughts on a Thursday.

First of all ... have you entered the giveaway yet? Super-cute vinyl and it can be ALLLLLL YOURS if you act now! The odds are looking good. It ends on Monday so hurry!

Now, for some randomness.

1) This pretty little chickadee is going to KINDERGARTEN next month! Actually, in less than two weeks. Crazy! We just found out today after she passed the early entrance exam. She is so excited she can hardly contain herself. I'm pretty darned excited myself.

2) If you're a dude who lives in Arizona and you have a beautiful singing voice and you can also read music, then you need to go here. Right now. We need you. And you'll love it. So really, it's a win-win! (Don't make me call you out, because I'll do it ...)

3) Potty training is going pretty well. Buckwheat is a natural, but he still has about one accident every day. Overall, he enjoys using the potty and is mostly cooperative. On a related note, I never thought I'd be so excited to see human excrement in a plastic green bowl. But this is motherhood. Welcome to the jungle.

Giveaway: Vinyl Home Decor by Say It with Style

You guys. I have a confession. Before this weekend, I was not a real Mormon. I was only a pretend Mormon because ... I did not have any vinyl decor in my house. At all. I've always wanted vinyl sayings/art/signage/SOMETHING in my home because I love the idea behind it and think a lot of them look really nice, but I never found anything that was ... ME. It was either a font I didn't care for, colors that didn't suit me or graphics that were just not chic enough.

But then. THEN. Jessica, my rad friend and owner of Say It with Style vinyl designs approached me last month about doing a giveaway on my blog. I looked at her shop and fell in love with several of her designs and ideas. Here are some that I adore:

So cute, right? And very reasonably priced, I might add!

Jessica was so awesome and told me to pick something from her shop to review. I'm a practical gal so I decided to go with one of her beautiful personalized calendars. The vinyl is applied to the back of the glass on a frame so you can write on it with a dry erase marker. Brilliant!

Here's my finished product:

I KNOW!!! Darling! Can't wait to fill it in with the bajillion and one things I have to do this week.

Let me tell you, this was EASY to apply. I did enlist Dill's help because I didn't want to screw it up (remember, I'm NOT crafty at all) and we managed to get it on flawlessly. The best thing about it: because the design is applied to the back of the glass, I can clean it over and over and the vinyl will never be rubbed off. Such a useful and cute product!

Jessica wants to give away a $30 gift card to the Say It with Style Etsy shop to one of my followers! So yay! Now you can also partake of her vinyl wonders. (And become a real Mormon. If that's your thing. If not, then you'll have a super-stylish home.)

All you have to do is use the Rafflecopter widget below to gain entries. Click on the buttons below and complete the listed tasks to be entered up to five times. The only mandatory requirements are 1) you must follow my blog via Google Friend Connect and 2) you must visit to Say It with Style's Etsy shop and tell me which vinyl design is your favorite (first task on the widget list). You can gain more entries by liking Say It with Style on Facebook and tweeting about the giveaway. 

a Rafflecopter giveaway
 

Please use the widget for your all your entries -- NOT the comment box like you have done in the past. I will only be using the Rafflecopter widget to select the winner, so if you enter incorrectly, your entries will not count. Just be aware of this!

This giveaway will end next Monday, July 30 at 12:01 a.m.

This post was sponsored by Say It with Style. All opinions are 100% mine.

Pics of the past.

Do you ever start going through your pictures folder on your computer and find a bunch of pictures you'd almost forgotten about? I do. All the time. It's so fun to be able to "ooh" and "aah" over cute babies of yore, reminisce about special occasions and laugh hysterically over funny memories.

Here are some I dug out of yester-year. Enjoy!

 

Me a few days before my wedding while we were having our "groomals" done. My mom took it with a disposable camera. Awesome, huh? It's all super-cool-vintage now.

 

I have naturally-massive hair. One day, in 2006, I was getting ready for bed and took my hair out of an updo and this was the result. I was clearly made for the '80's.



Around the same time as the big hair picture, I was working at a print shop on campus and made Dill a Yoda shirt. He's a huge Star Wars nerd. He still has it and wears it to play church basketball sometimes.

By the way, WOW. My husband is handsome.

One time, we thought it would be hi-freaking-larious to put our baby in her Christmas stocking. It was a little snug, but she fit! Dill's cousin Liz took the picture and said, "It's like a tight dress!" Poor Bubby.

Never mind the horrible '90's teal carpet -- the real laugh factor is Bubby's pose. She was learning to walk and had gotten stuck in a precarious place. Of course, I had to snap a picture before saving her life. Mom of the Year, you know.



I can't even ...



A tender moment between my two littles. (One, two , three:) Awwwww!



We like to have fun at our kids' expense. Locals will know this is at Rockin' R Ranch in Mesa.



That face ...

Post your favorite old pictures and link in the comments! I'll probably even post the link on my blog. ;)

A sad story with a happy ending -- THE HAPPY ENDING!

The happy, new me.

Read Part I here
Read Part II here


It was the beginning of June, about a month ago. I was feeling like a corpse when morning came around. Actually, if I were dead, I wouldn't have felt anything which would have been loads better than how I felt. It was more than fatigue, though. My whole body hurt when I woke up. My joints ached, my head throbbed and my throat felt sore, just like the flu. Every day. It took hours before I could function decently, and by then my day was half-way over.

I knew I couldn't go on like this. I had to get answers and I would not accept another prescription of painkillers.

About six months prior, I was out with Dill's mom, picking up marked-down wrapping paper after Christmas. We got to talking as we females are wont to do, and I told her I hadn't been feeling well. She mentioned she had similar issues, only hers sounded much worse. She had been seeing a more holistic doctor -- Dr. Gregory Allen -- who tested her blood and diagnosed her with a few hormone deficiencies. He was treating her with bioidentical hormone replacement therapies. I had only heard of HRT in reference to menopause so I figured it wasn't for me. But for some reason, my brain filed his name away somewhere for a later day.

That day came in June.

I called Dr. Allen's office in a moment of desperation. A receptionist answered and asked why I wanted to be seen. For the record, I hate this part of making appointments. I sighed and said, "I have some really awful shoulder and neck pain and ... I can't get out of bed in the mornings, I'm tired all the time and I feel like crap."

I figured that was enough information to earn myself an appointment, and it was. But he must be a popular doctor because he couldn't see me for a whole MONTH. I reluctantly told the receptionist the date would work and braced myself for a very long and painful wait.

I have to say, Dill's mom is very good at getting her way, and when she was in the office a few days later, she somehow convinced them to schedule me sooner. Much to my surprise, they had a cancellation -- in three days. I owe her big time for that, because if she hadn't brought it up, I'd actually still be waiting to see the doctor until tomorrow. I've got to figure out how to be gutsy like that. My mom is the same way, too. Doesn't take no for an answer.

My new appointment day came -- June 25. The office was very close to my house and brand new. I filled out my paperwork and the nurse called me back shortly. She took my vitals and then asked me yet again why I was being seen. Now, she was a very nice nurse, very friendly and kind, but I was tired of answering this question. Heck, I was just plain TIRED. So I answered again as politely as I could, trying not to leave out any crucial details.

Dr. Allen came in a few minutes later. I could tell right away he was a caring person. He just looked at me differently, like a real person instead of a face associated with a chart. He spoke to me in a warm, kind tone and asked me what was going on.

I started to tell him about my shoulder and neck pain and then quickly added that I was really tired all the time and didn't feel good. He prodded me gently for more information and I started to elaborate on my symptoms. I could feel my throat tightening up the way it always does when I'm about to lose it. It had been so long since I'd talked openly about this.

He asked me, "Are you stressed?" I replied generically with, "What mom isn't stressed?" and faked a smile. But inside, I was on the brink of tears. I'm not gonna cry! NOT GONNA CRY TODAY! I thought boldly. Then, he looked me right in the eyes and asked again, "Jenna ... do you have a lot of stress?" And ... I lost it. Right there in the doctor's office. Full-on ugly cry. I blubbered about how I shouldn't be stressed; I'm young and I have a good life, but I AM stressed! I lamented how I've seen so many doctors and none of them have answers and I just want to feel normal. He said he could help me, and lots of people came into his office feeling the way I did, and why did I think he had a huge box of tissues right there on the counter? That got me to chuckle a little, and I took a tissue and wiped my eyes.

Dr. Allen told me he likes to treat people's ailments naturally, and I just wanted to hug him. He then listened to my heart, looked in my ears, nose and throat and felt around on my belly like all doctors do, and asked, "Have you ever had cysts on your ovaries?" I started to say no but then I remembered, yes, I DID in fact have ovarian cysts, right before I got married!

That seemed to pique his interest. He pressed a little on my ovaries and asked if it hurt. Yes, it DID hurt. Wasn't it supposed to? No. He had me sit up and touched every muscle currently in spasm on my neck, shoulders and back -- he knew EXACTLY where they were. "Tell-tale muscle spasms related to stress," he told me. So, that's why I was hurting so much? Wow.

Dr. Allen, said although he suspected a few things, he couldn't diagnose and treat me until he had my blood drawn. Wow, what a concept! I then realized I never got a blood panel the first time I was treated for depression. Hmmm. He then told me to come back in a week so we could go over the test results and start treatment.

A week later, I came back prepared for a verdict of, "Everything looks normal; I don't know what to tell you." But that couldn't have been further from the truth: my blood tests indicated a severe deficiency of progesterone and a sluggish thyroid. Symptoms of progesterone shortage include inability to sleep, depression, fatigue, pain (including headaches), mental fogginess and low libido.

Well. That explains ... everything.

After teaching me all about the thyroid and sex hormones, how they work and what happens when they're not in balance, drawing diagrams for me and letting me SEE the numbers from my bloodwork, Dr. Allen prescribed a low dosage of thyroid medication and a progesterone bioidentical. I had to drive all the way to Ahwatukee to get that crazy, rare drug but it was SO worth it. That night, I slept better than I ever had in my life. In the morning, I felt refreshed. It was the weirdest feeling, actually wanting to wake up.

It has been almost two weeks since I started my treatment, and I am overjoyed to tell you all I feel GREAT! I am sleeping well. My pain is almost gone. I am still an anxious, excitable person because that's just who I am, but I feel empowered and know I can handle the stresses of life (this is why I'm potty-training a 2-year-old and not even batting an eye about it). My kids aren't driving me crazy and I'm not experiencing my daily 2:30 pm headache anymore. And I'm way more productive than ever. It's amazing!

But here's the thing, and the real reason I love my doctor: He also prescribed to me a low-glycemic diet and exercise -- practices that will keep me feeling well long-term. Yoga has been perfect for me and I do it about five times a week. As for that junk food, I already eat very well, but it's a little easier to avoid the carbs and sweets when your health and well-being are on the line. So these days, I treat myself and the kids with green smoothies. I avoid simple carbs and try to keep my blood sugar stable. I still indulge once in a while (like last night, when my mom made some DEEE-LICIOUS cupcakes) but I'm a lot more careful about what I put into my body.

Now, I want to thank you all for following my story. I have appreciated all the sympathetic comments, even though it breaks my heart to know so many of you are suffering as I did. I do not wish to convert you or make you think you need to see my doctor, take hormones, etc. Everybody is different and what works for me may not work for you. But if you are suffering, please know that you don't have to! You have a right to feel good! There is an effective treatment for you out there and you can find it. Read, talk, ask questions, listen and seek. If something's not working, quit doing it and do something else. Be open-minded.

And most importantly, you do not have to remain silent. If you need help, ask for it. Don't be embarrassed, because all of us struggle with something or another. Don't pretend like life is fine when it's not. Speak. You never know if the person listening can save you.

A sad story with a happy ending -- part II.

(read Part I here)

Pregnant with Bubby, September 2007

I wish I could say the Zoloft and counseling sessions cured me, but they didn't. What DID help, oddly enough, was pregnancy. I would later find out that this wasn't so strange after all, but at the time, it seemed rather ironic. Wasn't I supposed to feel especially crappy during pregnancy? I mean, don't get me wrong -- I had my fair share of crippling morning sickness, pubic symphysis diastasis and faint-inducing anemia. But mentally, I felt totally together. In fact, during my pregnancy with Bubby, I finished a full load of classes, including voice lessons, University Chorale, New Testament and flexibility. I also reported for the Daily News (student-run broadcast) twice a week, shooting, editing and voicing all of my packages. I was Superwoman.

My pregnancy with Smush was equally as productive. Once the morning sickness was over, I felt like I could do anything. Pack and clean an entire apartment? No biggie. Potty-train a 2-year-old? Got it. Run all over town in search of the best deals on paint and flooring for our new home? Done (you should have seen me wheelin' and dealin' with my big ol' belly). All of this while publishing several online articles each week for my freelance writing job.

It just didn't make sense. How could I do so much and not even bat an eye? All these responsibilities would have had me weeping in a corner in the past. I didn't understand it, but I was glad for the extra energy and zeal pregnancy gave me. Both times, I had a LOT to do.

But as you know, pregnancy eventually ends. I was terrified to have my babies. I'd heard horror stories of post-partum depression and even psychosis and I just knew what was in store for me, the "mentally ill" woman. Both times, giving birth was followed by a horrific paranoia of death and dying. If I put my baby to sleep incorrectly, she'll die. If she spits up while lying down, she'll die. If I don't buckle her into her car seat correctly, she'll die. These were my constant thoughts. I couldn't sleep because I feared my baby was suffocating. I didn't want to go anywhere because I worried about car crashes (and it didn't help that I actually did get in a car accident when Bubby was 3 months old). After Buckwheat was born, my irrational panic was worsened by his traumatic delivery, my slow and painful recovery, and the death of two close family members. A black cloud of sorrow and worry loomed over my head for months.

There was one main difference between post-partum Bubby and post-partum Buckwheat: I was only able to nurse Bubby for a month and a half, but I continued to nurse Buckwheat for a whole year. Nursing supposedly can create a sense of euphoria for new mothers and ease post-partum depression. This was true for Buckwheat but not for Bubby -- formula literally saved my sanity with her. But after Buckwheat's birth and the loss of my grandmother and uncle, breastfeeding helped to blow that cloud away. It gave me a purpose. It eased the pain of my grief and brought me back to life. Even with the stress of a nursing infant and an energetic toddler, I soon felt capable of handling my responsibilities again.

When that year was over and Buckwheat decided he'd had enough of breastfeeding (and I'd had enough, too), quite a few physiological changes took place all at once. The first and most noticeable was my acne. You guys all remember that. I'd never really had acne before and suddenly, I was a veritable pizza face. WHY?! I couldn't figure it out. I was doing nothing different from before ... except I wasn't nursing.

The second was my shoulder and neck pain. It started a few months after the acne explosion. I couldn't lift my arms a certain way or I'd experience a shooting pain in my shoulders. Soon, it would even affect me  even while I was sleeping. Before too long, the pain became so intense and constant I was sure I had some serious problems in my back and neck. The pain peaked in April of this year, right about the time of my spring EVMCO performance. My general practitioner put me on a steroid which was supposed to drastically decrease whatever inflammation was causing my pain. It did its job and the pain was gone for about two weeks. Then, it came back in full force.

In May, I had an MRI on my neck. I just knew the test would show some drastic problem -- bone spurs, bulging discs, maybe even a severed something-or-another. But it came back almost completely clean. A slightly pinched nerve and some arthritis, but nothing that would explain what I was feeling. I became hopeless. I stopped trusting my doctors and decided I would have to live with the pain.

In the meantime, I couldn't get out of bed in the mornings. I was having trouble sleeping again. After teaching music lessons, I'd get an immense headache and I couldn't do anything for the rest of the day. I didn't want to go out or do things I used to enjoy. And the worst part? I didn't feel like I loved my kids or my husband anymore. I just wanted to be alone.

I'd had these feelings before and I immediately recognized them as signs of depression. It was back. But this time, something -- God, my instinct, a combination of both -- was telling me I needed different treatment. Zoloft was not the answer and it never really had been. My problem was deeper than that -- it was my hormones. With zero medical training, I knew it. I can't tell you how. I just did.

But what doctor was going to listen to me, validate my feelings and get to the bottom of this no matter what? I had to find one who would. My life depended on it.

A sad story with a happy ending -- part I.

I guess I'll start this series of posts by freely admitting I have depression and anxiety. It is what it is. Lots of people suffer from varying types and degrees of mental disorders. I'm not going to pretend like mine are severe and I'm in any kind of peril. But it is a challenge I have dealt with for about 10 years now. It's something that makes me who I am and something I think we all need to talk about.

I want to tell you this story does have a happy ending. I have finally found a way to cope. I'm feeling well and loving life. However, it was a long, difficult road to get here, and the solution was one I never expected.

Some crucial background information: I am a naturally high-stress person. I always have been, since I was a little girl. One of my elementary school teachers lovingly called me "Crisis Queen" because literally every thing that went wrong, even minor things, sent me into a tizzy of epic proportions. I don't like surprises. I don't like change. I like the events of my life to go according to plan ALWAYS. Deviations from "the plan" make my blood pressure go up, give me a headache and send me into Chicken Little mode. It has been this way for as long as I can remember.

As a teenager, my anxiety and stress only got worse. I had a very full plate of honors and AP classes, musical extracurriculars, church leadership positions and an after-school job as a piano teacher. I always felt like I HAD to perform perfectly in everything I did because the rest of my life depended on it. I had to get perfect grades. I had to look perfect. I had to be a perfect friend and a perfect girlfriend, a perfect teacher and a perfect Mormon, sing perfectly, dance perfectly and never show weakness. EVER. If I could just be the paragon of humanity, I'd be a successful human being. If not, I'd be a complete failure.

As a result of this totally rational (NOT!) thought process, I developed a variety of side effects. I had frequent stomach aches, headaches and serious trouble sleeping. I remember one time, I spent an entire night alternately closing my eyes and opening them to look at my alarm clock. The glowing green numbers taunted me, hour after hour. Eventually, 5 o'clock rolled around and I surrendered, got out of bed and started getting ready for school. I hadn't slept a wink and I was perpetually dead-tired from that point onward.

Thankfully, Dill came into my life before the pressure of college had a chance to break me down. I have no doubt he was meant for me. Dill and I are exact opposites when it comes to stress. He doesn't experience it the way I do. He doesn't freak out. He only lets truly important things bother him and gives no thought to trivialities. Let me just say, it has been a HUGE blessing to be able to share my burdens with him during our relationship. I would be lost without him.

But for our first year, while we were at BYU, I was in super-freak-out mode. My anxiety became worse because my education was no longer free and my classes were exponentially harder than they'd ever been. I was a former A student suddenly getting Cs and even Ds. I was working part time, studying as much as I could and generally struggling to stay afloat. I had a scholarship I was about to lose because of my slipping grades. And of course, I wasn't sleeping at all.

That's when the depression overtook me.

See, when you struggle so long with compounding stress and anxiety, you eventually fall apart. You can't do it anymore. You become so exhausted from the sleepless nights, the headaches and the constant frantic inner dialogue that you just collapse. And I did. I stopped going to class. I called in sick at work more often than I should have. I wasn't making it to church on time because I couldn't wake up in the mornings. I started to fall far behind in my classes and I felt more hopeless every day. I cried. A lot.

Dill didn't know exactly what to do but he knew something was wrong with me. I was clearly depressed and needed to see a doctor. You have to know that for a perfectionist like myself, this realization -- I needed professional help -- felt like the ultimate failure. It rang in my head like an obnoxious bell tower stuck at 12 -- FAILURE ... FAILURE ... FAILURE.

But I knew I could not go on feeling the way I did. I was barely even living at that point. I was at the bottom of the deepest, darkest well and I had to admit I could not get out on my own.

So, in late 2006, I saw a doctor who gave me a psychiatric evaluation and determined I did indeed have depression and anxiety. He prescribed Zoloft, which I began taking right away. It seemed to help with my mental issues, but it gave me a new set of physical side effects to deal with: nausea, insomnia and sexual dysfunction to name a few. It felt like the medication was fixing my brain, but I could tell it was only temporary and I despised the side effects.

Along with the drugs, I started seeing a psychiatric counselor on campus. He talked me through my problems and set me up with the stress management lab, which was awesome. The plan was to treat my apparent chemical imbalance with an antidepressant while giving me tools (counseling and stress management) to overcome my mental hindrances. Once I was ready, I could wean off the Zoloft, fully prepared to take on the world.

I couldn't wait for that day -- the day I would finally feel normal.

Barricaded in the bathroom.

This week, I only have one plan.

Wish us luck.

Smooth operator.

It's that time of year when it's so freaking hot you just want to die, but all kinds of produce are in cheap abundance which is encouraging. We hit up the Superstition Ranch Market (Apache Trail and Meridian) weekly and pick up tons of berries, grapes, spinach, melons, pineapples, you name it -- for next to nothing. I'm serious.

Last week I got a 2.5-pound bag of fresh spinach for $1.50 (I told you ... how cheap is that?!). As I threw it into my cart, I noticed a nearby elderly lady staring at the gargantuan bag. She turned to me and said, "That's a LOT of spinach!" To which I replied, "Yeah ... but it's really good in smoothies! I just throw a big handful in and you can't even taste it. You should try it!" As I walked away, I saw her stick a big ol' bag in her cart, too. Hope she likes her green smoothies!

I make smoothies for myself and the kids once a day. They've become our new mid-morning snack. I've been whipping up the same recipe for the past week so I thought I'd share it here. I don't actually measure the ingredients when I make it; these amounts are a guesstimate. More for a reference. So, if you don't like how it turns out, don't shoot me. You might have to fiddle with it a little to get what you want.

Berry Green Smoothies

Ingredients (add in this order for best blending results):

1 1/2 c. 100% apple juice (no added sweetener)
1 BIG handful of spinach (doesn't really matter how much you put in -- it blends down to almost nothing)
2 small bananas, broken up
1 c. frozen sliced strawberries
1 c. frozen blueberries

Put the lid on and hit the gas! I mean, the "go" button. "Blend." Whatever.

Serves me and my two children ... so, two adults? I dunno.

Now, it's time for ... SMOOTHIE FACES!!!

Check out that green 'stache.

Hit me up with YOUR best smoothie recipes!

Patriotic fashion.

I'm a sucker for themes, and I especially can't resist getting my red, white and blue on for Independence Day.

Dress/Top: Forever 21 Women's Striped Dress

Necklace: gift, jeans: Wet Seal, shoes: Payless

And of course Bubby and Buckwheat wanted to join my picture taking sesh.

I know, it's so dark all the sudden. Kind of vintage? Aka crappy camera?

These are the cutest kids ever, you know.

Hope you have a wonderful Independence Day! Be safe and remember who you are, yadda yadda yadda.

Whatcha lookin' for? Round 4!

We haven't done this in a while, have we?

These are some of the search terms people are typing into Google to arrive at my blog. I try not to judge, but some of them are just plain weird.

1. "Patterns of manatee to paint." Exactly like that. Patterns of manatee. Not manatees. Just one manatee, but many patterns of said manatee. I guess.

And "to paint." Not "to color" or "to trace." Very specific request, I must say.

In any case, here's a cute picture of a manatee to brighten your day:

credit

2. "I got first glasses." I don't know what to make of this query. Do you mean, "I got glasses first?" I'm sorry to burst your bubble but you probably didn't, unless you are a 726-year-old Italian. Perhaps you meant "I got THE first glasses." In that case, wow. Those things are super-vintage. You are the Supreme Hipster of the Universe (and you should probably contact the Smithsonian, too). I bow my bun-clad head to you.

Speaking of which ...

3. "Cute hipster buns." Why, thank you! Oh, wait. You were looking for a different kind of hipster buns. The kind which are usually clad in ironic pants of some sort. Alright, here you go:

credit

Now your butt can be a hipster, too! All for the amazingly low price of $34.99! You're welcome.

4. "Coral chevron bedding." I wish. I still haven't updated my bedroom since this post. Well, actually, I take that back. I bought a cute little burnt orange pillow and this striped blanket from IKEA and threw 'em on my bed. Now it looks a teeny bit cuter.

Anyway, if you want coral chevron bedding, my guess is you're going to have to enlist the help of a professional seamstress which I unfortunately am not. In the meantime, I need new bedding. Really. It's starting to rip and look sad and Buckwheat drew on my comforter with a pen last month. Waah.

5. "Cannot resist twizzlers." I feel your pain. Really, I do. Just remember they're basically lightly-flavored wax and they'll probably block you up for a week if you eat too many.

Did I just go too far? I did.

Alright, what are people looking for on your blogs? You can see your own stats by going into your Dashboard, clicking on the "Stats" tab and then clicking on the link for "Traffic Sources." Scroll down and there they'll be!