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Unfinished Business
I’m what might be referred to as a “sporadic” blogger. I’m in my first year of homeschooling and spending the bulk of my time figuring out how to do it successfully without hurting anyone. That has left me with less time for blogging than I’d like. Sometimes, something will happen and I’ll have a post all written in my head but I get busy with field trips, reading aloud and carry-the-one. Before I know it, too much time has passed and the post has gone stale. Still, there are some things that one or two of you might be wondering about. This post is for you.
GW loves her chef hat and apron. You know how they say, “The clothes make the man”? In this case, the clothes are making the chef. She is becoming quite the little baker, even learning to make some things without much help from me. [Can I get a whoot-whoot!?]
If you’d like to sew a chef hat, you can find the free pattern on You Can Make This.
Next item of business, some of you have asked about my meat baby ovarian cyst. (Mr. Frantic has politely asked me to stop making him vomit by using that little term of endearment.)
I’m happy to say the crazy-making pills, aka: birth control, worked. On my second pelvic ultrasound, the technician saw this image:
Good-bye Mea- um, Cystie.
Hmm… this is oddly cathartic. What other bits of unfinished business can I tidy up? How about 100 Stories About Me? I have decided to discontinue this feature. Every single post on this site is a story about me. This post here will be number 236. I don’t think I need to say more.
Did I just say I didn’t need to say more? Then why am I still here?
I do need to say more. A lot more. Just not about that.
One of the things that I need to/want to/promised I would say more about is how Mr. Frantic and I met and fell in love. I could just say:
We met at a church dance and were married six months later.
But where’s the fun in that?
You wouldn’t get to hear about the way he stole me from his friend. Or about the way he asked me, ever so sweetly, if I would be his girlfriend and then proposed only three weeks later. And what in tarnation the family dog running around the neighborhood (while wearing pair of my underwear!) had to do with any of this.
That is a story the internet needs to hear, my friends. And it will, Valentine’s week. I commit to you, dear readers (hi Mom!) that I will tell all between February 11-13th.
I’ll try to make it worth the wait.
Whew…I feel so much better. Like a great weigh has been lifted. If I left anything out, just drop a question in the comments. I’ll answer it right away soon sometime.
Attention All Bloggers
Earlier this week, I posted a review of Skin MD Natural on my review blog. (Did you know I had one of those? Well, I do.) The company contacted me this morning and offered to send a free bottle to anyone else willing to blog what they think of it.
If you are interested, leave me a comment and I’ll put you in touch with them.
Take that, 70’s cat poster!
[Heidi would like to mention that she found this bizarre cat photo randomly floating on the internet, but could not find out who {whom?} to credit it to. If it belongs to you, contact Heidi and she will give you credit for the easy your part. But the snappy caption is all hers.]
Guess what? I’m glad it’s Monday.
Wanna know why? Monday means that last week is officially over.
The Week of Despair.
[Heidi would now like to tell her mother to put down the phone. She was not really in despair. That was merely a melodramatic middle-child talking. Seriously. Put. It. Down. Putitdown! She's fine.]
Last week, I felt like I had too much on my plate, but no appetite.
Last week, I wanted to run away from home.
Or just unplug my phone.
And eat chocolate.
Under my covers.
Alone.
Last week, um, well…last week doesn’t matter, because it’s Monday! Holla!
It is now This Week!
And This Week could turn out to be anything.
Even The Super Fantastic Week of Hearts, Rainbows, and Unicorns I’ve been waiting for my whole middle-child life.
It could happen. Anything could.
And that’s why I love Mondays.
[Heidi would like to refer to herself in third-person for the third time because sometimes she is OCD like that. Here is a photo that she deserves all the credit for. Except for the creation of the cute little nub on the dog's hind end. If you are responsible for that, contact Heidi so she can give you credit. Thank you.]
*****
Sincerely ‘Fro Me to You sponsored by We are THAT Family
Skin MD Natural
Once, a few years ago my family was rushing through Penn Station in New York trying to make our train back to Maryland. My bag, filled with a portable DVD player and other paraphernalia designed to keep GW quiet happy on the train, weighed way more than I could comfortably manage. The strap was cutting painfully into my shoulder and even in our rush, I had to stop and redistribute the weight. Mr. Frantic was way ahead of me and I told GW to ask him to wait.
Her little five year old voice rang out loud and clear with a “Daddy! Mommy has issues!”
Issues? Who me?
Actually, I’d have to agree. But only when it comes to my skin.
My face is the lovely combination of oily with dry patches. Finding a good moisturizer has been difficult. I’ve run the gamut from drug store brands to expensive ($75 per oz.) salon finds. If it heals the dry patches, it usually causes more oil. If it keeps the oil in check, the dry patches grow.
Last month, I got a bottle of Skin MD in the mail to review. Given my history, my expectations were very low.
The press kit that came with it explained that Skin MD is a Shielding Lotion. Apparently, this means that Skin MD forms a protective barrier on the skin to keep out the moisture robbing bad stuff.
Their website declares:
A Shielding Lotion is far more effective as a dry skin treatment than conventional moisturizing lotions or protective creams. If you suffer from dry skin, you know that just using a moisturizing lotion doesn’t solve the problem. A shielding lotion does much more than just treat dry skin – it’s a new kind of skin care product that makes a real difference to all skin types.
Skin MD Natural™ is promptly absorbed, without the slightest hint of any greasy or oily feeling or residue, transforming the outer layer of skin into a hydrating invisible shield.
I’ve been using it for about a month now, mainly on my face. I like it. I like it a lot.
I currently have no dry patches or oil slicks. And even when I went sledding with GW during the Arctic Blast 2008, I didn’t get any wind burn. The few times I have bothered to put it on my wintry arms and legs, it felt soothing.
Here’s what I don’t particularly care for: the packaging. Sort of cheesy.
And the smell. It is “unscented”. Which really means that it has a scent, just not a good one. It smells like, well, unscented sunblock.
However, neither issue is a big one. I’ll definitely buy this product.
Speaking of buying, Skin MD is available for purchase either on their website on amazon for $18 (plus shipping) for a 4oz. bottle. But for you west coasters, I just saw it at Fred Meyer in the pharmacy department for the strange price of $10.37. Guess where I’ll be getting mine?
Take that skin issues!
An Oregon Snowman
This specimen of a typical Oregon snowman was found on our walk to the park. Normally quite shy and docile, I can only assume his angry look is caused by our camera.
Wordless Wednesday sponsored by 5 Minutes for Mom
[Whispering] PS: I know this is Wordless Wednesday, but I hope you won’t mind a few more. Ever so long ago, Julie from the adorable From Inmates to Playdates graciously gave me this award:
Do me a favor and thank her for me, would you?
View from the Bottom Bunk
I remember sharing bunk beds with my older brother. Our beds were able to covert from two separate beds to a single bunk bed by means of holes drilled in the head and foot boards. When stacked, one on top of the other, wooden dowels were placed in the holes to hold the two beds together. Those half-inch pegs were the only things keeping the top bunk from toppling off and crushing the life from anyone unfortunate enough to be in its path. Miraculously they held, though we did our best to break them.
The top bunk belonged to my brother, by rights of seniority. I jealously coveted both his ability to touch the ceiling with his toes and the satisfying boom his leap from bed made when he hit the floor each morning.
Our radio sat firmly on the window ledge were we both could reach it, though he was the self-designated only one allowed to change the station. A job he took upon himself and performed with reckless abandon – turning the dial from Magic107 to Z100. And back.
We had no ladder. The slats on the bottom head board provided enough of a boost to enable small bodies to haul themselves up top. There was no safety railing either. My brother kept rolling out of his bed onto the floor, but didn’t so much as get a bruise. However, my mom – as all moms will, worried about him someday injuring himself with this nocturnal free-falling. She decided to put a stop to it by placing a chair next to the bed. Looking back she is unable to explain why she thought this to be a good idea. The next time he fell out of bed, he hit the chair and broke his clavicle. He never rolled out again, so perhaps we could count the chair-plan as a success.
My spot on the bottom was not totally without perks, and not without its own perils. I could tuck a sheet into the top mattress, letting it hang down and turn my bed into a private island. Or a tent in the jungle. Or a curtain on a stage.
And, at night, when my jealousy over my brother’s lofty perch hit a peak, I could brace my feet on his mattress and heave, bumping him several feet, or miles, or even a few inches into the air. Lucky for me the lone brave two-by-four that braced up his mattress was strong enough to withstand all that my eight year old legs could dish out.
Take that, top-bunk!
Girl Wonder had been asking for bunk beds, but in this current economy, we just couldn’t justify buying one for our only child. Then last week, a friend from church offered us a bunk bed her children have outgrown and we jumped at the chance.
It is red, which does not go with her room at all – but I plan to spray paint it in the backyard this spring. A friend and I set it up on Thursday while Mr. Frantic was at work and GW has been on the top bunk ever since. We even did our history lesson up there on Friday.
I hope she remembers her bunk bed as fondly as I remember mine.
Even without the obnoxious older brother.
Try This at Home
If you stopped by earlier in the week you must have noticed that my blog was a mess.
The posts were all gone. All that could be seen were titles. And, I’ll be the first to admit, my titles are not all that creative.
You see, without getting too technical (because I don’t understand it myself), I tried to update my plug-ins. (If you are thinking air-freshener, just go ahead and skip to the next paragraph.) All I did was hit the auto-update button and WHAM: blog is now a series of crappy titles. Unfortunately, my blog guru was back-logged and it took some time to get things back on track.
Lesson learned: There are some things I am just not equipped to do myself.
Lucky for me, this does not include home improvement projects. I am fairly handy with a hammer, drill, and paintbrush.
Check out the before and afters of my latest project:
Isn’t it amazing what $10 worth of paint some sandpaper will do?
I went with a distressed finish to get a jump start on what will eventually happen on its own.
Next up, the entryway.
Hint: The spindles are already gone.
Once upon a time there was a Heidi…
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