I Actually Have A Bed

I am 32 and my husband is 37.
We have been married 11 1/2 years.

And for the entire time we've been frat-boy-ing it on a mattress on the ground.

We were way to cool and hipster to spend money on a bed.

My parents felt bad for us and even offered to buy us a bedroom set.
We declined because we couldn't find anything we liked that wasn't obscenely expensive.

I guess I understand why they didn't want to buy us a Restoration Hardware bedroom set.
It's because they don't love me $8000 dollars worth.

I don't really care all that much about furniture. You've seen my house. It looks like 2 college kids got married and kept their dorm room stuff for 11 1/2 years.

We don't mind waiting a while until we save enough money to get something we love. 

Any furniture we get has to be exactly what we want and well built so it will last throughout abuse it will take. Especially a bed. 


Our home is very brown.
Typical Utah house.
 Which is warm and cozy, but not my style.

I like clean lines, and white everything.
I love things bright and fresh. Not cozy.

I'm not cozy and I don't want anyone getting too comfortable in my house.

I wanted more white in the bedroom even though it's not a pure virginal space.
So Jared got his fancy craft-man pants on made an amazing white wall for me.

It goes with the bookcase he made for our front room.
I looks like the workshop and all the money we spent on tools is actually paying off.
Plus, Jared loves building stuff and I love him building stuff. win. 

I really liked a couple of beds from Pottery Barn.

Jared said he could make me one.

And he did.

By the way, how attractive is it when men build things with their hands? Very attractive.
I even put out.

Jear-Bear is awesome. Look how beautiful it turned out.

It's so clean and simple.
It's also a special luxury to sleep in a real bed. I felt so classy.

It only cost us around $600 for materials.

To be honest, I mostly wanted a canopy bed so I could fulfill my childhood dream of a huge bed-tent.

It was everything I hoped for and more.

Dreams do come true.


Also, my kids are not naked in this pic, I have a "no nakeds" policy on all bedding.
They were just in their undies.

As we speak, Husband is working on painting the kitchen cabinets white, and I just peed my pants with excitement thinking about it!!! (To be fair, after 2 kids, I pee my pants over everything.)

Memory Tables, Cat B-holes, and Phallic Squash

I've been pretty bummed since Grandma Annette died.
She was really one of my very bestest friends ever in the entire universe.

I know everyone dies. I know we all experience loss. I'm aware that Grandma Annette was old and had an incredible life.

But I just miss her.



I'm not a sad, emotional type of person. Usually, I laugh at everything, swear, make nasty jokes, and have a bad attitude about life. I am normally really good at ignoring my feelings.

I guess people can tell when you are sad and not yourself.

I've received comments and emails from you guys which is so kind. People I've never met offering me words of comfort renews my faith in mankind.

My sis-in-law, Stephanie, brought me bright flowers and sugar cookies. It was so thoughtful and nice that I almost cried on my doorstep like a little baby.

My mom brought me candy I like and a children's book that is so sweet and poignant that I can barely get passed the second page without tears.

 

My friend Gayle immediately texted me  from California - where the funeral was - and offered to organize the food for the funeral. She literally would have done anything we needed her to. She is awesome and has a equally awesome daughter named Lizzy.
Gayle even lent me white tablecloths


for the memory table (that's probably not the correct term, but it's the tables in the reception area at a funeral where you put a guestbook and a ton of pictures.)

It was so nice of her to trust me with anything white.


Then a few days ago I found a huge phallic squash placed on my doormat.

If the giver of this was trying to make me feel better by giving me penis shaped food it totally worked.
If the giver was simply sharing their harvest it still made me laugh because I'm a 10 year old boy who laughs at wiener stuff.

My "I look hotter than you in a bikini" friend, Christie, sent me a card all the way from Florida.
The envelope was deceiving and didn't prepare me for what was inside.


Look at what her innocent little boy drew on the envelope.

I opened it up and found myself staring into this:

A cartoon cat's butt-hole.
What is wrong with her?

I always knew Christie was a good artist, but this could be her best drawing yet.

 A seriously heartwarming note was written inside.

It's nice to have friends that just get you.


P.S. My kitten lays on it's back when I hold him.

(BTW, Christie, you should draw and post it on your blog. Do what I say.)

Bachelorette Party: Part I

Last Saturday I wove a tapestry of classiness that blanketed almost all of Utah.

My little sis Sara is getting married so I knew I had to throw her a Super Classy Bachelorette Party.

It's not often I crawl/creep out of my cave and actively socialize, so Sara felt my really awkward love for her. 

Sara and all her friends are recently returned Mormon missionaries and I wanted to keep the party slightly appropriate. 
I'm wayyyyy too classy to be putting penis memorabilia everywhere like usual bachelorette parties.
Instead I made my own party decorations with the word "Sex" placed randomly throughout my house.  

Even the prizes for winning my messed up games were beautifully crafted with just the word "Sex", as demonstrated here by Sis-in-law Erika.

 The decorations actually turned out really cute, but I'm too dumb to take more pictures. The food table looked awesome too but out of hate/principle I wasn't about to take a pinterest/instagram-esque picture of it.

All the party games I found online were either really lame or extra nasty.
I was forced to think of some on my own.

My favorite game was called:

What's In Yo' Mouth?

The Bride-to-be is blindfolded and then tries to guess what you put in her mouth. Every item is edible and reminiscent of male body parts. 

Sara's friend Kama is also getting married soon so I made her play too. Mostly because I didn't think Sara would actually play by herself.

Kama is a super-cute, super-returned missionary and super-good at getting things in her mouth. She was totally down to play.

Sis-in-Law Stephanie helped me prepare while we were laughing so hard I almost did pee my pants. 

We didn't anticipate how dirty we would feel shoving penis shaped things into other girls mouth's. For real though. I repented at church the next day and scheduled a confession.

The first item was a peeled cucumber. 
Sara was nervous and didn't trust us, and Stephanie was too timid about forcing it in.

Luckily my aggressive sister Rachel grabbed the cucumber, hit Sara in the face with it and jammed it in her mouth. 

I felt like I had just witnessed a classic example of date rape.

 Since I know a bunch of people are going to steal this awesome game for their next party, we also used:

• Limp carrots

• Room temperature, uncooked Hot Dogs

• Peanuts (hahaha! get it?)

• Long, hard lollipops

• Raw potatoes 

• Vienna sausages

• Whole mushrooms (courtesy of my gross brother Matthew)

• Peeled Banana

The best part was the final item.... white goopy cookie icing.

Neither girl appreciated my idea.

I would also like to add that my bladder control is completely ruined by giving birth to 2 kids. I almost peed my pants all night because we were laughing so hard. 
Half the time I had to hold my crotch and sit on the ground so I wouldn't wet myself.


I did not expect to party to be that funny or I would have worn my Depends underpants or a super-long maxi pad.

Part two soon! And by that I mean as soon as I stop being too lazy to type words.

Art-ing

Everyone who knows me knows that basically, I suck at life. My few redeeming qualities include: man harassment,  the uncanny ability to go for days without a shower, making elf babies, wasting time and ART.

I am a little good at drawing crap. It gets my creative juices flowing:

It sucks to be good at art since it's super hard to find jobs/income to do it.
Why can't I be good at something that pays a lot of money? Astronaughting, engineering, or CEO'ing?

It's because I spent  my high school and college years drawing instead of taking notes.
My Binders were awesome, but I should have put more time into CEO'ing.
I know that I would CEO super hard.

My sis Fachel recently moved into her an apartment and needed some stuff to hang up. I told her to buy the canvas and supplies and I would paint it. Also, I told her not to worry because if she didn't like it we could regift it to someone we hate.

I had an awesome idea to paint her some huge angel wings.

Step One: buy supplies
Step Two: paint the base color all ever the board:

Step Three: paint angel wings:

See how easy it is!!!

My sis-in-law got married and wanted one of those trendy tree sign-in guest book things so I art-ed this up for her:

All the wedding guests use stamp ink and make fingerprint "leaves", or something pinteresty like that.

I also got creative with makeup:

A skillfully cultivated living Father's Day card:

And a stimulating sidewalk chalk paint creation:

Jared was pleased with my message I wrote to him and was glad that our kids can't read.

Baby Sara Returns

My baby sister Sara went on a Mormon mission to Kansas for 18 months.

Surprisingly, she didn't get sent home early for behavior infractions.
She worked hard, served others, and grew her questionable pixie haircut out to a more acceptable length.

Mormon missionary homecomings are quite the spectacle.

Everyone gathers at the airport to see the returning missionary. Balloons, signs, and  "welcome home" banners are made since Mormons love crafting and glitter.

Since Baby Sara went to Kansas, the only logical thing to do was to make Wizard of Oz costumes for all the nieces and nephews to wear to the airport.
My mom sewed her butt off.

Aiden and Cryin Ryan were lollipop kids while Brooke was Glenda the good witch:

Little Jackson, also a lollipop kid:

New baby Noah as the scarecrow:

Laura as Dorothy and T-bag as the Tin Man.

 

Baby Sara saw Ryan's hair and I knew in my heart that she appreciated my hairstyling skills:

I don't have a pic of the lion or a pic of all the kids together cause I'm not that smart.

Of course I made the best homecoming poster ever:

Inappropriate on all levels.

Rock Tit Craft

My new house is bare.


I'm no decorating genius, I save my genius for drawing dirty pictures and cleaning up kid poop.
My usual plan for decorating go like this:

1. Look at my empty house and feel like a failure of a Mormon mom.
2. Obsess over Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware catalogs.
3. Remember I am cheap.
4. Throw away said catalogs.
5. Switch obsession to cute DIY blogs.
6. Become excited about possibilities.
7. Drive to store.
8. Remember I suck at this.
9. Buy tons of candy.
10. Go home to bare house and eat all of previously bought candy.


Our house has 4 bedrooms on the main level, but I make the boys share a room. I could totally let them have their own rooms but then when I put their laundry away I would have to go to 2 different rooms, and that is not going to happen.

I needed to do something for the boy's room though.

I saw these awesome metal letters and bought them. I tried to hand them up but they were too small for the room and looked stupid.

I reached deep inside my Mormon girl self and came up with a crafty-pants idea.
I nailed fabric to painting canvas, and nailed the letters over that.

I went to hang them up and realized my kid's initials spell "RT", which is a universal acronym for "Rock Tit".

You know, when you get cold and your nips stick out everywhere? That's Rock Tit. Embarrassing.

I have to rearrange their entire room so the initials would not remind me of people's nips standing at attention.

It's still pretty bare, but better than nothing! (Which is also what I say to myself when I let my kids run around in their undies.)

amen.

Rock Party

Ryan turns 4 years old at the end of April.

This is a HUGE deal because this will be the first time I might throw Ryan a REAL birthday party.

I am not a believer in throwing b-day parties for my babies or toddlers. My children are not well-behaved anyway, so billing them as the center of attention is not on my priority list.

But turning 4?!?!? Four is different.
I fully expect Cryin Ryan to morph into a well-behaved gentleman on his 4th birthday.
I don't think that's unreasonable.

4 year olds are angels, right?!


We have had several serious discussions regarding said birthday.
 He has thought a lot about this, and has Martha-Sterwartically come up with a theme:

A ROCK BIRTHDAY

Rock and Roll you ask??? Oh no. Something much more sophisticated.

Just ROCKS:

Ryan almost hyperventilated with excitement when my favorite brother Jake showed up at our house with a rock.

It was Gypsum so it was all sparkly and awesome when they broke it open. But still...... It did not warrant the sheer excitement Ryan exhibited towards it.


So far, Cryin' Ryan has had the following requests for his elegant Rock party:

1. "Maaaaammmm!! I want a decorate our house wif rocks from our outside!"
2. "Maaammm! You make me a cake wif rocks and my rock cake be grey?"
3. "MAMM! We have many rocks for my friends and we all have rock fight wif eachother?!?!?!?!

 My Sweet/Mature Ryan,

1. Yes.
2. Yes.
3.  and YES!!!!!

Nothing warms my heart more than a bunch of children throwing rocks at each other..... I just hope our homeowner's insurance policy feels the same way.


P.S. Ryan just told me after WEEKS of asking for a Rock Party, that now he wants a lame Ninja Turtle and Insect party.
This is especially annoying news since I had already made his rock balloon decorations:

What a waste.