living the GOOD life

Oh, let me tell you about MY day. LET. ME. TELL. YOU.

Where do I start? Where oh where?

We could start with the fact that my grandpa died last night, but if you read my blog you would already know that, and besides I don't think talking about him seems appropriate given what is going to be the tone of this post.

So let's start with the women at the U.S. Airways check in desk. The three women who were doing a crossword puzzle as I tried to check in. MAYBE if they were doing their jobs instead, they would have heard me when I said I was going to Salt Lake. And that my name is KASI.

But no.

Next let's talk about me. Airhead that I am, when I booked my flight last night I booked it for Thursday. On accident. Because I meant to book it for Wednesday. And thought that I had. Which is how I ended up at the airport this morning at 7:30 am. In my defense, MY GRANDPA JUST DIED. But we're not going to talk about that.

Of course they had no record of my reservation, because there was no reservation. But neither of us knew that. So they heard GOOD! and  8:50 FLIGHT TO CHARLOTTE! And apparently, someone named SUSAN Michelle Good (what are the chances? Really. I'd like to know) was on the same flight I thought I was supposed to be on! And so those crossword doing women thought two out of three was good enough, and gave me the boarding pass.

Back to me. I never looked at the boarding pass. I assumed (when you assume, you make a WHAT out of you and me?) they knew how to do their job. That when I told them my name and destination, and they looked at MY DRIVERS LICENSE they would have caught any mistakes. Just like I assumed that the nice old man (who called me pretty, by the way) who checked my license and boarding pass at the security check point knew what he was doing too.

And so I get on the first of three planes for the day. Heading to Charlotte, North Carolina. It was a pleasant enough flight, until we landed and I looked at my boarding pass for the next flight.

It said SUSAN.

And she was going to PROVIDENCE, RI.

I pointed out the errors to the lady at the gate. After figuring out what happened, she said I better not tell anyone how easy it is to get around the system. She directed me to the help desk, where they told me I could pay $1,300 and still fly out today.

And so I played the Grandpa card. I didn't want to do it (just like I didn't want to mention him in this post) but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. Which may or may not have included crying. Just a little.

And so they put me on the next flight to Phoenix, which would connect to SLC. HALLELUJAH.

EXCEPT.

The flight was delayed.

Over an hour.

And was re-routed north, which caused the three hour flight to be over five.

I had to sit in the middle of two very overweight men.

One who smelled and yelled at another passenger. The other was incredibly nice, though. So I am grateful for that.

But I missed my connection.

And so here I sit in the Phoenix airport, waiting for my flight to Salt Lake. I should get there approximately 18 hours after I left my house this morning. 

Awesome, awesome day.

Goodbye

I will always remember your huge hands.

Your amazing french toast.

How we named Jacob Ellis after you.

How you loved to brag about your educational achievements.

How you loved to brag about everything.

How you gave us money to help us move to Indiana.

How you tried so hard to be gruff.

How much you loved me.

How much I loved you.

On appearance

My body and I have a long, rocky history together. As a child, starting around 8 or 9 (or at least, that is when I started to notice it), I was what you might call chubby. At twelve I went through puberty and slimmed up, but my size four body was still big for a sixth grader. Junior high and high school brought numerous occasions to loathe my body and employ all sorts of unhealthy practices to change it.

I have never been, nor will I ever be, a person who is naturally thin. The times in my life when I have been thin have been the result of hard work. But even then, I have never been a size two and think it would be physically impossible for my body to achieve that size.   

As I get older, it gets harder. The biggest shock to me came after Jake was born and it wasn't nearly as easy to drop the pregnancy pounds as it was with Daniel and Emily. Then before I had a chance to blink, along came Ben and the task of getting back to my pre-pregnancy weight seemed insurmountable. Add to my age my increasingly busy schedule that allows little time for the gym or a beauty routine, and to me it seemed like a lost cause.

I've watched several friends from high school become more and more attractive as the years pass. Some of them have slimmed down. Others have realized that the grunge look really doesn't work for them, and have learned how to apply makeup and style their hair. Some of them have enough money for a fancy wardrobe and highlighted hair, and others just bloomed late.

I am not one of those people.

I would rather spend my money on almost anything else than on makeup, teeth whiteners, hair highlights or expensive shoes. When I have a choice of whether to go to the gym or spend an evening with Kevin, I always choose Kevin. And most days, when asking myself if it is worth it to get all done up when only my kids are going to see me, I answer no. 

I know some people who have made their appearance their hobby. They spend their discretionary money and time on perfecting how they look and what they wear. I have no desire to be one of those people. But at the same time, I feel that it is probably time to give it a little more attention.

Kevin would probably be grateful.

I am curious of your thoughts.

How important is it?

And why?

The Three Wisemen...and their cow...

Every year, Kevin's family does a nativity.

This year, we were too far away to participate. So everyone took pictures of different scenes, and Kevin made them into a movie.

We were given the assignment of the Three Wisemen and some sort of animal. Obviously, Emily makes a perfect cow. 

Besides the blue towel on Jake's head that says "Tommy Hilfiger" on it, oh and the Buzz Lightyear robe, I think the costumes are pretty darn authentic.

Squishy Baby

That's what I call Ben. I love to squeeze him and squish his cheeks. I love to hold him as tight as I can, saying "squishy baby" over and over.

It makes him laugh.

I just want to gobble him all up.

But, very slowly (or quickly, depending on how you look at it) he is transitioning from baby to toddler.

It amazes me that he is the same age Jake was when he was born. Or Daniel when Emmy was born.

 

I only have a precious few more months with this baby. Soon he will be replaced with a toddler. Soon his gibberish will change to words. He will start wanting to be with the big kids. He will maybe need me a little less, want me to hold him a little less.

I will miss that squishy little belly. It is oh so fun to munch on.

More Projects...

The new valance in the kitchen. It matches the pillows on the couches in the living room. I love the fabric!

This is the first wreath I made with leftover ornaments. I was trying to make the back flat, and it didn't work so well. So if any of you are planning to make one, just follow the instructions on the link I posted. I made a second one that way, and it worked much better. I would post a picture, but I already gave it away :)

Two new pairs of jammies for Emily. Super easy and cheap.

The kids bathroom vanity. I am trying out paint treatments to figure out what I want in my kitchen. This one is OUT for the kitchen, but I like it in here. The distressing will hide all the nicks they put in it. Now I need a new counter top though :)

 

Master bath vanity. I like this one better than the kids, but I still don't want as much glaze in my kitchen. Just in the crevices, I think. And once again, now I need new counter tops :)

 

And even though I am not one hundred percent happy with the results, anything is better than the old orange oak!

And that's all for now. I have been feeling like I need to be doing something every minute lately, so there will probably be more soon!! And eventually I will get started on the kitchen!

PROJECTS!!!

First up, we have my wonderful, fabulous, thoughtful Christmas gift from my husband.

I have wanted a shoot sac for a long time now. I love how it makes it so easy to switch lenses during a shoot. My current camera bag doesn't even fit all my lenses, so it was really quite useless.

Enter Kevin. He did a little research, and for $150 less than the shoot sac, I have a wonderful camera bag that fits my needs perfectly!

One side is made from a plain neoprene laptop cover. We sewed pockets for three lenses. They just slide right in and out.

 

The other bag is also a laptop case, but it has room for more lenses, and it has a couple of pockets with room for extra batteries, my external flash, memory cards, etc. Both bags snap together and can either be carried as one, or I can unsnap them and just take the bag with the lenses.

 

It took about an hour of sewing, and wa-la!!

Isn't it wonderful? 

More projects to come, but I'm gonna be honest. This is my favorite one :)

This is what's been going on around here...

I think I need to start a new category. Let me tell you why. I have pretty much given up scrapbooking. Which means I don't print out pictures anymore. Which means my only documentation of our lives is this blog, which I print yearly into a book. WHICH MEANS that sometimes I post things that no one really cares about, but which I want to remember and want included in that book. THIS is one of those posts :)

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I forgot to take pictures on Thanksgiving. We had a couple of friends over, and after the kids went to bed, we watched Flight of the Concords for three hours. So I would call it a success, even though I managed to screw up three of the four food items I was in charge of.

This is our gratitude banner. We started this tradition last year, and I think we will keep it going. We all write what we are thankful for on these paper pendants. My favorite is the one that Kevin wrote that says "My Beautiful Wife." Yeah, I like this tradition.

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Jake turned three on the 28th. And a cuter three year old, I never did see (except Daniel and Emily, of course.) When I ask him to smile for a picture, he now makes this face:

He has been mad all week, because he didn't want a party, or presents or cake. He would cry when we would tell him his birthday was coming up.

He got this little bike. It took him a few days, but now he can cruise all over the kitchen on this little thing. He LOVES it.

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In other news, we got our Christmas decorations up. Ben has only broken one so far, but that is only because I recycled all of our glass ornaments into these. I knew after the first day that the glass balls just weren't going to work for us this year.

 

Daniel helped put up the big tree, and Emily tried to help decorate, but that would have required a longer attention span than 2.5 seconds. So the kid tree decorating fell to Jake. And he took his job VERY seriously.

 

He spent almost an hour decorating that tiny little tree. I must say, the bottom third looks gorgeous.

I would post after pictures, but really, it just looks the same as last year. So if you really want to see, go here. 

Freddy the Elf showed up as well. He does such a great job keeping my kids in line.

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Yesterday, Kevin went in for a muscle biopsy. Because once you hit thirty, everything starts falling apart.

To quote a friend, "it looks like a fuzzy pink football."

The doctors made it sound like a very simple procedure. One which wouldn't require time off work. Which maybe it wouldn't if he had a desk job, but a job that requires running around all day? I don't think so.

Apparently it didn't warrant any sort of bandage either, so he was left to bleed all over his pants. My opinion of the medical care here in Indiana just keeps getting higher and higher. 

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And last but not least, I had to document this because it may be the last and only time that the playroom will EVER be clean again. EVER.

 

  

And I wanted to show you the new banner I made. I love it. It may be my favorite thing about the room.

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And pretty much, that's it. Except I do have lots of projects to share with you. Just as soon as I take pictures of them. So...eventually I will get to posting them.

Happy Birthday Jakey

Three years, Jakey Cake.

 

Jake, at three you:

Want to wear your Superman T-shirt and mesh Nike shorts every. single. day.

Think you're a dad. You love to play house, and that carries through the rest of the day.

Have FINALLY decided to be potty trained.

Love super heroes, cars, and clothes. Weirdo.

Are getting a bike for your birthday (shh!)

Love to tell me and dad that you love us.

Insist that you're turning four and a half. 

Still love your blankie and stuffed dog.

Are tiny! Poor thing, even Ben can bully you these days.

Absolutely ADORABLE.

I love you buddy!

to the fullest

Today I was actually listening to a radio station in the car. Not a children book on CD. Not Primary Songs. A rare treat.

While flipping through stations, I stopped on this song, "You're gonna miss this." I really liked the chorus:

You're gonna miss this

You're gonna want this back

You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast

These Are Some Good Times

So take a good look around

You may not know it now

But you're gonna miss this

You're gonna miss this

I thought about that a lot as I drove home. About how when I just had Daniel and Emily, I told everyone I never wanted them to grow up. I wanted them to stay little, to never stop wanting to spend every minute with me, to never stop loving my hugs and kisses and lullabies.

As we added more kids, and life became more crazy, I somehow lost that. I started looking forward to the days when they would all be in school and I could actually get things done during the day.

Realizing how my thinking has changed makes me sad. I don't want to look back five years from now and realize I spent the wonderful baby and toddler years waiting for the next phase to start.

I took this photo of Benson today. He was ecstatic to be outside, to be running, to be jumping. He was excited in a way that only a toddler can be.

I looked back towards the house and saw Jake leaning against the front glass door sans pants and underwear. I told him to get dressed, and he came out with his jeans on backwards. And I couldn't stop laughing, the way only a two-almost-three-year-old can make me laugh.

I know that one day I am going to miss this stage in my life. So my goal is to not one day regret that I didn't enjoy it to the fullest.