Merry Christmas 2012

Season's Greetings

from the Daily’s.

We have had quite a year and would like to

share a bit about it with you.

Drue - This has been a very big year for Dr. N. Drue Daily. As you can see, he graduated from the University of Nebraska–Lincoln with his DMA Composition. In addition to graduating, his Symphony In Three Marches is currently nominated for the Folsom Distinguished Dissertation Award Prize. The University just can’t seem to get enough of him, so he’s a Lecturer of Music in the music department, and he likes it. Good thing too. He just accepted a call to serve as the sunday school president in church and is a huge help to Ashley with the boys as she teaches piano. And in his “spare” time, he is building a small music typesetting business.
Ashley - Ashley is in love with the family’s new Petrof piano and the beautiful music it makes. She is still teaching piano and is very happy with the progress her studio is making. Running the Olathe, Kansas Oz Half-Marathon is becoming a yearly tradition for her and it’s almost time to start training again! All in all, this has been a very blessed year for her.
James - James started taking piano lessons this year and he loves it. He even wrote his first piece of music for the piano: Pancakes. He is in first grade at Humann Elementary and is very much enjoying school, his friends, and he even likes to do his homework. James loves to dress up still and is very into skeletons, Harry Potter, and still a bit into super heroes. He’s also learning how cool Legos are. Drue is happy about that.
Oliver - Oliver turned 3 this year and is such a joy! He loves to help his mommy do just about anything and particularly likes to sit on the counter and help her cook. He’s getting pretty good at cracking an egg. He loves to dance and sing, and play piano with his mom. Oliver is enamored with trains, particularly Thomas the Tank Engine, and is also loving his hot-wheel cars. He’s such a pleasant boy, we all adore him.
May the Lord bless you and keep you in his loving arms this new year,

Drue, Ashley, James, and Oliver

The Daily's

schoolwork

Here are the answers James provided to the questions on his schoolwork. They were instructed to write a sentence or a simile describing each month.

January- New year
February is... Love Day
March is... Same patrics Day
April is.... Easter time
May is.... flowers day
June is.... Beach time
July is.... 4th year to cellebrate Nebraska
August is... James's birth day
September is... about racking leaves
October is.... Halloween
November is... Thank's Giving
December is... Santa Claws's Birthday

I love 1st graders!

to do list

Things I'm trying to get around to doing:
blogging about James' birthday
sending out pictures to all the parents of their children who attended James' birthday party
blogging about James' first day of school- 1st grade edition
fall cleaning- the big one!
figuring out what we need to replace, recycle or refashion in our home
then doing that
trying to come up with some ideas for the craft fair in december
working on testing the recipes in 'the' cookbook
trying to not gain 10 lbs. while testing those recipes
blogging about my birthday (it's on thursday) and the amazing things I have planned for my birthday bash- two words: Tamale Party.

also, I need to potty train Oliver.
But I am dreading that moment. Not out of any true concern for my ability to produce a potty-trained child. No. It is because I hate potty training. I don't even have a pinterest board for it, I hate it so much.

thanks for listing to my list.

6 years

Vital Statistics
Name: James Vaughan Daily
Birthday: August 8
Height: 45.5 inches
Weight: 44 lbs.- ish
Favorite things to do: Ride bikes, run, play on the swings (you learned how to swing yourself just 3 days ago!), make-believe play that you are at various times Spiderman, Batman, Pirates, Angry Birds, astronaut, chef, animals of all kinds, and (very recently) Harry Potter. You like playing with Legos, reading books that have anything to do with skeletons, dinosaurs, Henry and Mudge, Dr.Seuss (you are just now understanding the funny things in his stories, for example: Oliver Boliver Butt sent you into hysterics for a couple of days), and you love going out to our friend's farm to chase chickens. As a matter of fact, you actually caught one last week!
You have no fear! Every time we go to the zoo, you head straight for the bug building and ask to hold every single bug you can! You love to pick up bugs from the sidewalk and just look. You say they tickle you.
You have learned to swim pretty well this year. We're working on learning to swim with our head above water. Keep working on moving your arms!
You LOVE to draw and your coloring is getting so good! When you really focus, your pictures are just beautiful! You are especially good at manipulating letters. We love your drawings and how you collage your walls!
Every little girl at church has a crush on you because you're just so cute! And we all love you very much.

Happy 6th Birthday to my big boy!

On why I do not have pictures nor a story about this summer

For those who are just DYING for an update on my little family, here it is.
It's going to be short.
And sweetness may have no part in my writing.

What we have done in the routine:
YMCA
swim
library
park
zoo
bowling
summer academy

What we have done out of the routine:
DCI in Omaha.
water sports at the lake with good friends.
Fireworks.

So, as you can see, our summer has been VERY tame. I make sure we have something to do every day- it get's us out of the house for most of the day and I am the kind of person to DO things when I spend time with my family.

Mostly, though, this has been a summer of enormously lazy proportions.
The kind of summer you look back on and say:
"What did we do?"
"Nothing."
"Oh yeah! That was awesome."

So, to those long summer days, I've enjoyed you. It's actually starting to get dark around 9 o'clock now.
Soon, the trees will start to turn.
Soon, football will rule the town.
Soon, school will start and for the first time in our entire marriage, I will not send my husband to school.
That will be weird.

Summer days, driftin' away, but- oh! Oh those summer nights...

Kindergarten is closed

Or,
I now have a 1st Grader.

This school year has FLOWN by! James has made such HUGE strides in school- both academically and behaviorally. At the beginning of the year, he was having a hard time using his words to express his feelings, whether positive or negative. Now, he can tell me what he is feeling and why! This is a big deal here!
Also, he has discovered art.  His art teacher told him he was her best art student in the Kindergarten level.
I'm not surprised. It runs in the family. But I'm proud of him! At the beginning of the school year, he was having a very difficult time following instructions. Now, he completes all his assignments on his own! It's amazing!!!
Of course, none of this could happen without his amazing teachers: Mrs. Jill Gable, Mrs. English, and Mrs. McNaught. They have been just wonderful and I love them so much!

 This is at the beginning of the year:

 And this is at the end:

On to first grade!!!
And piano lessons, and swim lessons and soccer and everything else.

Rapunzel Rapunzel, let down thy hair!

I have a friend who is treating her kids to the ultimate DisneyWorld vacation. (maybe I'm a little bit jealous...)
And she needed a dress for her little girl.
Well, I don't have one of those, and she (my friend) doesn't have the skill set to sew a costume dress, so I said I'd do it for her. I have to live vicariously through other mom's of little girls. Not that I don't love my boys- I DO! But sewing for a little girl is SO much fun. And it's pretty.
My friend's little girl wanted a Rapunzel dress, so here it is:

Here's what I learned how to use/do while making this dress:
Fray Check
Heat 'n' Bond
Elastic thread
Eyelets
Lace and trim
lots and lots of hemming
altering a pattern
Satins are a pain to sew with forever and ever, amen.
How to NOT use an iron
How to HIDE iron damage
How to make a little girl's dream dress come true.

I'm available for hire, now:)

Oliver and the Piano

A photo essay

How cute is that?!

as promised

This post is in celebration of the HUGE accomplishment of graduating with a Doctorate of Musical Arts (DMA). And can I just say how cool it is that the pre-fix 'Mr.' is now 'Dr.'?!!
Dr. and Mrs. N. Drue Daily
Dr. Daily
Dr. Drue.
Anyway you say it, I'm so proud of Drue. His dissertation is being nominated for 'Dissertation of the Year', which is a University-wide honor. He has worked so hard -and so have I- to make this work. We have loved our time at the University of Nebraska and will forever be Huskers. Go Big Red!
Of course, the weekend wouldn't have been complete without Grammy, Papa and Jesse. They came all the way out from California and Utah- we couldn't have had a nicer time with them. Ice cream, teppanyaki (James was SO impressed with the "fire chef"), Fajitas, target, park, Omaha zoo, Temple, we did it all.
And we are DONE.

The Dr. is IN.

Someone has a birthday...

Someone turned 3 years old today.
Answers to: Oliver, Bear, Ollie, Cuteness, Baby Olive, Tiny, Ollr (thanks, Elijah:).
Blond hair, Brown eyes. Big Smile.
Shy around strangers.
Loves his mommy.
Crazy about Thomas the Tank Engine, Lightning McQueen, Legos, Train tracks, PUZZLES, and playing Ball.
Can ride a bike, almost.
Is a dog-lover. Seriously.
Draws monsters, and is good at coloring.
Loves to be read to, and snuggled with.
Favorite food? Pistachios.
Least favorite food? Pizza. (Really?! C'mon. Who does that?)
Wrestles with his older brother ALL THE TIME.
Wants to play the piano ALL THE TIME.
And also the drums.
Funny funny funny. Steals everyone's heart.

Happy Birthday sweet boy! We just love you to pieces.

The New Baby

Small story:
We wanted a new piano. We found a few on craigslist that were awful. Then I found this one and heard the hallelujah chorus with a descending shaft of light. One steal of a deal later, the Petrof is mine! I mean, ours. Ours.

Coming attraction: The Dr.

As soon as possible, we present for your reading pleasure, the Dr. Daily show.

The Second Half

This is the second Half-Marathon I've run. I guess that means I can say without a doubt that I am a runner.

But please don't understand that statement to mean in any way that I am a fast runner.

I am not.

But I do it.

It's cheaper than therapy.

So, this is my second big race. I've done a couple 5K's for fun, and a 10K to keep me going, and a 10 miler as a "long run" race. Those are all place holders for the big stuff.

I've run this particular race twice now. I like the course, I like the medal, and this year I LOVED the weather.

Have I ever mentioned that I am extremely competitive?

Or that I will do almost anything for a shirt and a medal?

So, running one of these things gives me everything I need: a goal, something hard to do, and when it's all done, validation.

And free chiropractic adjustment.

And free massage therapy.

And lots of free beer:)

So. You know where I was.

This is me with the nice lady who was just making sure that I had all the required documentation in order to enter the Expo. She really didn't check me in. But she was nice enough to pose with me. 

                                   Do you see how the Tin Man is pointing at me? I planned that.

The witch is faster than me. And you know what? That's okay.

 At the Expo I picked up my shirt, my pacing times, a couple free vials of hand sanitizer, free chap-stick, free bio-freeze samples, and almost purchased a 13.1 sticker for my car, but in the end, decided I didn't like the font, much to my husband's relief.

In Olathe, I stayed in the La Quinta.

My grandmother always mispronounced the name as:

"la kwintuh".

She's from Texas.

Since I last set foot in a "la kwintuh", say, 15 years ago, they have made some improvements.

I actually had a decent night of sleep.

Except for the alarm that didn't work.

And I was paranoid that I wouldn't work.

So, I got 1.5 hours of decent sleep, 4 times in a row.

Maybe not my best night.

But at least I had cute fingernails.

My friend, Sara, brought me a race-package just before I left. She gave me this minty color nail polish and told me she was calling it "Mint Sprint", so whenever I got tired, I could look at my nails and go a little bit farther.

It worked.:)

This is me. 5am. Race morning.

This is me. 6am race morning. Heading out to breakfast, then to the start line. 

Me at the start. It was perfect weather! Sunny, no wind, chilly. Exactly what people who like running in the cold want to run in. I was so happy. But you're having a hard time seeing my face because it was so gosh darn sunny.

I ran a nice, slow, steady pace, just fast enough to beat my time from last year by 2 minutes. I PR'ed!

At around mile 6, I put in the headphones.

Mile 8, I started mouthing along to the songs.

Mile 9 I was singing softly and "rundancing".

Mile 10-ish I was full on singing at the top of my lungs. I'll bet money it sounded like I was shouting. But I was actually just trying to keep on going.

Let me tell you something- people give you two different kinds of looks when you run by them singing at the top of your lungs.

One: Smile and chuckle. I got this 14-year-old-ish boy to break into a huge dimpled smile as I ran by sing/yelling "We Are Young". Proudest moment of mile 11.

And Two: they look around as if trying to find where 'that sound' is coming from. When they look your direction, they get a very confused look and then they whisper bitterly to their friends, with words that express what I can only assume is jealousy. Jealousy that they aren't as awesome as you; you who can run 11-13.1 miles and somehow still have enough breath to sing such sweet sweet songs. 

When you run the final "chute" people are crowded all along the finnish line, shouting encouragement, and the announcer says,"Here's a strong finnish by Ashley Daily, from Lincoln, Nebraska!!!!!" The crowd goes wild because they understand that you are the best thing since... well, since the person who finished 2 seconds earlier.

But still!

It's a thrill.

I fist-pumped.

Me and Wendy, my traveling companion and friend. This was her first. She is AMAZING!!

 After the race, the adjustment, a banana, a massage, a big bottle of water and some pretzels, a final picture and that's it folks!

I am planning on running another in the fall- October-ish. If you'd like to run with me, I'd love to have you.

coming soon: the second half.

I hope to get to this tonight. Stay tuned for pictures form the day before, morning of and right after the race.

New Life Goal

I have a new life goal.
Ready?




I want to play (and win!) the International Piano Competition for Outstanding Amateurs (hosted by the Van Cliburn Foundation).

Side note: I am not eligible to participate until I am 35. Guess that means I better start practicing!

A complete list

I am a list person.

I wake up and write a list of the things I need to do for that day.

Usually, that list starts with the words: Get up.

And then I get to do this immediately: Get up

It sort of makes me feel like I've already accomplished one thing, so maybe I should keep going.

The next thing on that daily list is always: Eat breakfast.

Eat breakfast? Check. 

Eat breakfast.

In order I cross out:

Boys dressed.

D to Bus, J to school, O/A to Y

Some days, like mondays, I add:

Menu

Grocery shopping

And Mondays are the only day I get those two things done. So:

Menu

Grocery shopping

Then the rest of the day varies. Swim lessons, play with friends, go somewhere.

Three days of the week end like this:

Dinner

A teach piano

Boys bed

For some reason, I never EVER cross those out, even though they are always done.

On my refrigerator, I usually have a list of projects that I'm working on:

N's Pillow

M's Bracelet

A's Pillow

O's quilt

A's dress

Those project lists remind me that I have work to do. Lots of it. But instead of being productive, like my lists normally inspire me to be, the project list just sits there, gathering length. 

The reason for this has to lay in the variable proximity of my sewing machine to a suitable work space, the availability of my materials and the organization thereof. Unfortunately, I have to store all my fabric, notions, patterns and other various crafting tools in large, plastic bins. The contents of those buckets get moved and moved and moved so often as I search through the rubble. It certainly does not help the discouraging organization.

I have a HUGE number of untold projects waiting for me to finnish.

I NEED to finnish them. Preferably before I die.

Drue helped me out in a big way, yesterday, inspiring me to DO the things I need to: He found a sewing table for me. 

Correction: he found a used desk that was just sitting outside which is a perfect size for a sewing table for me. 

BIG plus: it was free.

Since I'm talking about lists, here is a list of the things we have acquired for free:

A huge solid oak armoire for our TV, and movies

A TV

another TV

A desk chair

another desk chair

A refrigerator for his office

A microwave

Many many many baby clothes and baby accessories.

A large sewing table

Oh, and my beautiful pair of Old Gringo Boots. 

I feel like the Lord is keeping us well taken care of. Usually, we just have to wait for a bit.

But back to my table.

I now have a sewing table. One that I can LEAVE OUT. I don't have to put EVERYTHING away when I'm done using it. 

On the contrary.

It sits and waits for me!

Fabric has been organized, properly folded, stored. Notions cleaned out and ordered. Cutting mats, rulers, tools, patterns- all have a home. They are still in boxes, don't get me wrong. But now the BOXES have a home. Right next to the sewing table.

This is exciting. I'm sure it will become a HUGE mess, but for now, it's ordered, clean, new. 

Inviting. 

Yes, that's the word.

Cordially your's,

The New Sewing Table.

To Princes

James wrote the following:

Dear Princes
I am Real
You are
Prity
To Princes
From Spider-MaN

I am the princess. I love that boy!

Yoga

I love doing yoga.

I know some people hate it. (lookin' at you, D)

But I love it. Slow. Deliberate.

The line of the pose, the stretch up and out, the inward pause.

And maybe I'll be the "chubby yogi" for my whole life.

At least I'll be happy.

Day light

Those without children may not "get" this, but I hate Day Light Savings.
Well.
I guess that's not entirely true.
I hate it in the spring.
When we loose an hour.
That precious hour.
That one hour that makes or breaks a whole day.

That one I did without this morning.

News flash: I don't do well with only 6 hours of sleep.

Also, I may not wait for fall to get my extra hour back. Is there any way we can strong-arm time BACK to where it was, say, saturday?!

I'm seeing a poster campaign:
LOST!
ONE HOUR OF SLEEP.

If found, please return to me. ASAP.

It could work.

The Thrift Store

Or: Why I bought a rain coat for james 4 years ago because it was a dollar and I knew I'd need it someday.

Have you ever had the experience of finding that AMAZING deal at a thrift store? The item fits perfectly. It's exactly what you need. You find yourself wondering how you have made it thus far through life without that item.

This story is not about that item.

Instead, its a short, but triumphant, mini-yahoo about thrift store shopping for the future.

When we lived in Utah, we had a thrift store, the likes of which I had not seen, and still have found no equivalent. The D-I. And not just any D.I. It was the Sugarhouse D.I.
We went every weekend. And sometimes I'd go in the middle of the week just because.
On one excursion to that promised land, I found a packable rain coat. Now, I happen to know a bit about  hiking and proper equipment for camping- I did work at REI in high school- and it finally paid off! THis was not a name-brand rain coat, but it had all the ingredients. So, I bought it.

Low and behold, it's a child's coat.

Well well. That's not a problem because I have two children. I tried it on J and it was a circus tent on him! I put it away until he could fit into it andI have been hauling that half-a-bag-of-beans sized coat/bag around for 4 years and today- today it finally fits!

Take this lesson to heart: Sometimes it's okay to buy a thing you will need in the future if and only if it's something to grow into, because the other way around is a rare thing:)

NO MORE!

The morning commute

We are so lucky to live here. I absolutely LOVE Lincoln, NE. We have made great family memories here, and even though the weather can turn inclement on a dime, there's not much that we don't like about Lincoln.
One of those things is traffic. There is no traffic. At least, not like the traffic I grew up dealing with. Concord at 6:30-8:30am? HORRIFIC.
Lincoln? None. Nein. Zilch. Zero.
Nada.

So, taking Drue to the bus stop on the way to dropping James off at school is not a problem.

Yesterday morning, we were in the car driving to the bus stop. As we were driving, I was making a mental list of the order of things to be done. And you know how sometimes in your distraction you mumble things aloud? That's what I was doing.
"Mom, what are you doing?", comes from the back seat.
"I'm just talking to myself", I answer.
"Can I talk to myself?", he asks so sweetly and innocently.
"Of course you can."
"Okay. Good morning, James. 
Hi. How are you?
Good! Did you finnish your homework?
Yes! Did you eat your breakfast?
Yes! It was good. Are you ready to go to school?
Yes!
Okay. Let's go!
Mom, I'm all done!"

(At this point I'm struggling to keep my laughter in silent mode so I could listen to this personal little exchange)

He's so sweet. And also quite literal!

Mornings

We have only 2 kinds of mornings in my house: The ones that include me yelling, and the ones that don't.

I'll let you guess how often that second option happens.

Sometimes I'm yelling in a controlled way, more like speaking in large type. This is not the more common way I seem to communicate with my offspring.


Why is it that children do not ever seem to hear what you are saying until it's being said about 40 decibels louder than a jackhammer?

Example:
This morning, James woke up Oliver in some way that really made Oliver mad. MAD, mad.
So, imagine my glee when I was awakened to a shrill, impressively loud shriek being emitted from the floor on my side of the bed. (Why is it never on D's side?! Just answer me that.)
I immediately felt the urge to yell.
But I didn't.
Don't laugh. I honestly struggled with the thought of picking up both of my children by the scruff of their necks, hauling them to their room and depositing them in their beds for the mother of all time-outs.
But I didn't.
Instead, I calmly asked what happened. Score one for personal restraint.

But the fun didn't end there. Oh, no.
It truly seemed that every 5 minutes or so I would say the same phrase: "James, don't touch your brother".
"James, don't touch your brother."
"James! don't touch your brother."
"James. do. not. touch. your. bro-ther."
Jamesdon'ttouchyourbrother!


This can't be unique. I'm not that special.
I may just need a little assurance that
a. I am sane
b. my children are normal. Or as my sister-in-law says: It's age-appropriate crap-behavior.
c. I'm not permanently scarring my kids.


Now, if you'll excuse me, apparently, I need to go play trains. 

me and pinterest

'nuff said.

Story

Here's why I wanted a frying pan for a present from my husband. Really, it could have come from anyone, but since D is the one who will be benefiting from my amazing culinary skills, I think he saw the need and strove to fill it. What a good husband.

Back to why I wanted a frying pan.
And not just any frying pan.
A Lodge Logic 12" cast iron pre-seasoned frying pan.

When I went to visit my parents in January, I did a bit of cooking.
"Bit" may be an understatement.
I did a WHOLE LOT of cooking.
But, why would I want to travel, 'literally' (said like Chris from Parks and Recreation) 1,800 miles in one direction.... to COOK?
Two words: no kids.
It was awesome. I got to cook and no one was fighting/hitting/playing-under-foot/talking incessantly etc...etc...etc...
Have you children? Do you cook? Then you know what I'm saying. It's almost impossible to do what you need to make GOOD food.

But it was wonderful. Sans kiddos I made:
2 full size Texas Sheet Cakes
Chili (Rick Bayless is my hero)
Chicken Tikka Masala (Pioneer Woman is my heroine)
Biscuits/eggs/fried potatoes/ Jimmy Dean Sausage (that I hauled all the way up from the states!- guess what you CAN'T get in Canada?) (Also, my Dad is my Hero)
Carrot Cake (Betty is the woman on this one) with the most amazing Mascarpone/Cream Cheese/Heavy Whipping Cream frosting. The calorie count on the frosting alone has to be over 1,000 calories!!!
3 pans of cinnamon rolls (and again, my Dad is the one to listen to. You were right dad. Don't be stingy with the brown sugar. Nor the butter. Nor the pecans. You know what- just be generous with everything)
And doubled my favorite Julia Child roast chicken recipe, plus sauce and asparagus.

Granted, the asparagus turned out significantly over-done. So, no score on that.
But everything else was, if I say so myself, GOOD.
So, take that naysayers from my youth. I CAN cook.

But while I was making all this food, I was introduced to the cast iron skillet.
Oh. my.
Lovely, easy to cook with, perfectly done everything, great sear, great flavor...
I could go on.
Perhaps I should write a sonnet:

Oh Skillet of my heart you cook so well
You brown and sear the beef, the chicken too
When hot and oil'd thy flavors blend to swell
The hearts of those who eat of food from you.


I could go on. There ARE another 10 lines of rhymed iambic pentameter for this particular work.
Should I publish? Just think of it- a whole tome of sonnets about cookware.
I'm thinking Pulitzer. You're probably thinking "round file".

But since I have returned from my Great White North adventure, I have been jones-ing for a cast iron skillet. It's the pan of choice. I may never have to buy another frying pan. Ever.
All-Clad can eat my shorts.
Cast iron just stole my heart.

Valentine's present

In the immortal words of Flynn Rider:
Frying Pans! Who knew, right?!

Happy V-day to me! Thanks lovey. It's perfect. And it will always fit.

Nap time

No longer exists.

I'm devastated.

No more afternoon naps for me.

I'm going to bed tonight at 9.

Update

I just checked out this website: www.Sproost.com to take their personal style quiz.
They say I'm a 'Cottage Chic' gal. I guess that's true. I like light neutrals, a few fun-color pieces, and cozy spaces. At least, that's what they say I like.

Decorating

I have no personal interior decorating style.

No, no. It's true.

Here's my problem: I like it all.
Southwest? Great colors, patterns, textures.
Mod? Clean lines, bright, spacious.
Victorian? Beautiful attention to detail, woods, and lush fabrics.

Paintings? I love 'em all. Except for the boring ones. You know the kind. The ones you find at Hobby Lobby. ugh.

Photos? Fantastic! Except, again, for the self-indulgent, pointless ones. Paris at midnight overlooking a bridge on the Seine, focused toward the Eiffel Tower? Pu-lease.
Give me Ansel Adams. Or other EXCELLENT work.

What color is my couch? Stone.
How about my furniture? Brown wood. Mismatched too.
What is framed? A family picture. And a quartet of other pictures starring my family.
Well, what colors are your frames? Brown and beige. It's true.

I have no personal style.

I wish I were one of those people who can decorate with eclectic pieces and make it work. My sister is like that- but then, she's always been able to collage well. Do you remember when we had that assignment in the 5th grade to create a collage of ourselves? Your collage was in the shape of a peace sign and you had shoved all the pictures you could onto it and it looked fantastic! Mine was a square, and the pictures were ordered side to side in neat lines and spaces. Bo-ring and dull. And your room was always full of things that were interesting to you- odd signs, vintage suitcases as coffee tables, that TV tray you decoupaged a million pictures of David Duchovny onto- it was all brilliant, always laced with the same color: green.

I need a place to start. A color. An idea. A direction.

I NEED A DIRECTION.

Otherwise, I dread the day when my house turns into a mishmash of half-finnished pinterest projects. Or worse, toll painting. (shudder)

Kissy face

In my family, we kiss.
It's a perfectly normal and appropriate way to say from one person to another, "I love you, respect you and want to show my appreciation for all the wonderful things you are to me".
As children, we would all kiss our parents after each family prayer, my parents would kiss after every meal-time prayer, we children would all kiss our parents hello and goodbye. We still do this.
My Mom is the BEST kisser. She kisses everyone! I love it. Now, to be clear, she's not kissing everyone on the lips, because that's inappropriate. And the Simpson's are all about appropriate-ness. And if you buy that, I have a pig with wings I'd like to sell to you
But in all honesty, we love to kiss.

Yesterday, I realized the power of kissing.

My kindergartener was waiting for me to pick him up from school yesterday. As I drove up to the available spot, he was escorted to the car by the Vice Principal. As a side note, the Principal, the Vice and I are all well-aquainted by now:)
As I'm getting James loaded into the car, the Vice tells me, "I just wanted to let you know we had a little kissing incident today."
"What?!", I said.
 Yelled is more what I did.
"Yes", he explained, "James kissed another little boy on the lips in class today. But we had a little chat about not kissing our friends and I think things are all okay."
Imagine my surprise.

So, in the car, I asked James about it. He said that he did, indeed, kiss another little boy ("his name is Sam, mom") on the lips.
When I asked him WHY he would do such a thing, he said simply, "He was pretending to be Star Of The Week, but he's not, so I kissed him."

What do you say to that?!!!

I chuckled and clarified that he kissed this little boy (poor guy!) in self-defense. How often do you think of kissing as a tool for defense? I can just see the Karate Kid getting his a** kicked just after kissing the Cobra Kai dude for a winning point. Geez.

But would you rather have a kiss or a punch in the face?
Kissing just seems more peaceful.

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