Goodbye 23!

    It's the day before my birthday!!! Today is the last day that I will ever be 23 years old. Never again will be so young!
    This leap day would have actually been my birthday had my mother had a different doctor. She went to the doctor, but he sent her home. He told her he did not deliver babies on Leap Day. So, March 1st it is! (My birthday was actually supposed to be sometime in April... but I was in a hurry.) 

     Today is my In-law's 32nd anniversary! My dinner buddies are busy tonight, seeing as they're celebrating. Prince Charming has my Truck and is currently at work... so I was left to search through the cabinets to see what treasures they would hold.
     I found nothing.
   
     Now, to clarify, "nothing" means that there weren't any quick meals like Hamburger Helper. I would have to use what I had and my imagination to think up a meal.
    I found: frozen chicken drummetts, noodles, rice, mushroom soup, gravy mix, and seasonings. I called my mother and narrowed down the list. I threw the chicken into my crock pot. I added water, salt and pepper, a teeny-tiny bit of garlic, and chopped up some of my green onions. (Oh, and some butter.) I turned the sucker on high and waited... and waited... and waited...

     Looks pretty gross, doesn't it?

     I waited from 1:30 until 7:45... then I txted my sister and asked how you can tell if chicken is done when you cook it in the crock pot. From her answers, I figured it would be okay to chance it. I slopped my noodles in and waited again.

     This is what it turned out like:

     Okay... so the picture turned out sideways... and I'm too stinking lazy to figure out how to flip it currently. Either way, it looked alright.

     Then I ate it.

     SUCCESS!!! For a chicken noodle soup that consists of whatever was in my cabinets and my imagination - it was pretty decent. I was very surprised - and very happy!

   

Pictures for tonight:

We've been Best Friends for a long time. Over 15 years now... We're a lot taller. Our sense of fashion has grown also.



This is how I spent most of my time: reading. That book? One of the Babysitter Club books.



A better group of friends a girl couldn't ask for. If the walls of that Nursery could talk, they could tell you most of my life story.

The little boy that stole my heart so long ago. For a little while there, I was his "Girlfriend." (Or that's what he told people for a while.) He would sit in my lap in church. (One particular time he REFUSED to go to nursery because I wasn't going back there with him.) He liked to take my hair and pull it around my face so as to give me a "beard"... he would just laugh and laugh... Then he started school and found people cooler than me. He's way too old now... :'( no matter how old he gets, he will always be my little Spiderman.

Elvis and Mary Kay aren't the only ones driving pink cars. The two of us girls are really going places! (Well, figuratively... in this picture we were on some sort of electric track at Carowinds... )

     Here's to my last day as a 23 year old!

Awkward-ness

Happy Tuesday! Only one more day until my birthday!

I'm not feeling really great tonight. I wasn't going to write... but I wanted to put the pictures up at the very least.

So, have a laugh on (at) me - and have a great Tuesday night!



(Welcome to the years of the ridiculously long hair!)

Christmas time! Notice the scrawny legs and knobby knees. (... and the horrid bangs...)

This outfit was one of my own creation. It was a snowflake turtleneck sweater and a Hawaiian dress... 



We painted our hands and feet during GA's one night. We were learning about Yemen weddings. I find this picture particularly funny because of the long spaghetti-like hair, the long spaghetti-like arms, the long spaghetti-like legs. (Those horrid bangs...) I look so incredibly awkward...

P.S. the spots you can barely see on my legs and arms? Bug bites. My Mom used to have to hide me in pictures because I stayed "eat up."



This is a picture of me and my Bestie... there was a huge height difference for years! I like this one because it showcases how I used to dress so well.... High waisted, skinny legged, high-water black jeans... with white socks, Walmart tennis shoes, and a t-shirt. I thought I was stylin'.

This picture really needs no caption...

(Here's a short one anyway.)

My bangs had become rather long, so daddy chopped them off right before church. Those front teeth I was missing? They finally grew in... can someone say "Chicklets?"



Manic Monday

     For Monday, I was planning on making a list of things that make me happy. Today was so busy that I didn't have time to take any pictures of any of the things that make me happy. Sad day for you poor people who read this.

  Random thought of the day:
  I saw a woman today; she had the most sour expression on her face. She didn't really smile - and she didn't really laugh. It makes people uncomfortable. I felt uncomfortable. I don't want to be like that. I hope that I don't ever grow to look that way. I hope she finds something to make her smile.

     Today's post has to deal with learning to be happy with who you are. In case you haven't noticed from all of my pictures recently, my hair is brown. Not just any brown - really, really dark brown. All my life, people have told me it was black. It is not black, but I've grown to accept the fact that no one can tell that it isn't black - unless I stand next to someone with black hair.
     I never liked my hair. I wanted pretty blonde hair. The kind with big curls - and NO BANGS. (As you can see, I sported the 'bangs' look for many years. In fact, I had bangs until college. These bangs were NOT of my choosing.) I used to be so jealous of all of the girls with pretty blonde hair - or the ones who could dye their hair that color and it look pretty. Unfortunately, as much as I have always wished for, and dreamed of this perfect blonde hair... it has never happened. There is nothing I can do about this dark hair of mine. I could dye it, but I'd look crazy for sure. The rest of me is too dark and I'd have these horrid black-ish roots two days after I dyed it. That would not be attractive.
    I didn't like my freckles, either. 
    I didn't have blue eyes. (People said I would have never made it in Nazi Germany.)
    I wasn't tall enough to be a model.
    ... or short enough to be classified as "fun sized" 
    I wasn't "curvy" enough.
    I wasn't skinny enough.
    My name was too girly.
    My feet were horrendously too big.
    My teeth aren't straight.
    I wasn't funny enough.
    I was too quiet.
    When I talked, I was too loud.
   
    I could keep this list going.
    ... but why?

    For years I felt that I had a lot in common with the poor little ugly duckling. I still feel as if I do, and that many people feel the same way. Does this mean I turned into someone more beautiful than my peers? Absolutely not.
    I just have learned over the years how to be comfortable in my own skin. I've learned to laugh at myself. That one of the most unattractive things is trying to be someone you're not. (It's worse when you take yourself too seriously.) God didn't give me long blonde hair. For some reason, He wanted me to have super dark brown hair. (Maybe it's super important... Wonder Woman had black hair... hmmm...) I've discovered that if anyone knows what in the world is going on, it would be God. Plus, even though by the world's standard, I may not be what they're looking for (Hey, that could change though. What was cool 20 years ago kids laugh at now... but give it 10 more years and it will come back in style. Who knows? I might be all the rage tomorrow.) but He thinks I'm beautiful.
    And He's not the only one. Before anyone had really ever thought about me, He had stitched together a little blonde haired, blue eyed boy - who would think my hair was beautiful - and so was the rest of me. A boy who would think my freckles were cute, I was the perfect height for kissing, who thought I talked just enough, who would laugh when I made corny jokes, and who would think that the only thing wrong with my name was the last part - which was the ONLY thing he was more than happy to help change.
  

     Life would be boring if we were all the same. Those little "mistakes" we have make us interesting. They make us who we are. We shouldn't try to hide those things! And we shouldn't try to hide because of those things! Those things are the very things that people fall in love with. I do not know anyone who is perfect, but I do have the most interesting friends and family a girl could ever ask for. A more beautiful set of people I have never seen - and I wouldn't change them a bit!
 
    I just wish I had really understood all of this when I was younger.

   As cliche as it sounds, beauty really does come from within. After the first few minutes, we like people for more than their outsides.

   Be more than your outsides, people.

     I actually remember this picture being taken. We were walking through Opryland(??) and I saw this little thingy. It had colored stars on it. There was this pink star... I REALLY wanted to touch those stars... so I stopped walking with my parents and went to touch the stars. Totally forgot about things like "getting lost." When I looked back up, I didn't see my parents right away. Apparently, this is the face you make when your thoughts are going from "Oh dookey. I think I lost my folks." to "Oh, there they are."

         Me and my old friend Marianne in Mrs. Mary's class at church. You can't see them (obviously...) but "Little Alan" and Abby were sitting across the table. I remember trying to think up what in the world I was going to paint. A house and a rainbow were the winners...

     Let the awkward-ness BEGIN! (This one isn't that bad, though.) Luckily, every child goes through an awkward stage... though this one is fixing to become pretty funny...

     I can't wait until tomorrow. I'm already laughing. I can't wait until you can laugh at these with me.

Sometimes The Creek Rises...

     things don't always go as planned...  and people forget to do things like... updating their blogs. Sorry about that folks. I'm also sorry that this blog isn't going to be the awesomeness that I had previously promised.

     I had a fun trip, but I cannot explain the joy that hit me when I pulled into my driveway. Other than seeing Prince Charming, seeing this little white house with the two little kitties sitting on the porch, after a leaving for a little while, makes me so incredibly happy.
  
    There is nothing quite like walking into a clean house after you've been gone...
  
    Then... I let my bags hit the floor.

    Yes, I dropped them in front of my table by the door. I left them there and stumbled my way to the bedroom where I lay passed out for the next 4 1/2 hours. (Long drives will wear a body out!) When I woke up, I ignored the bags and went out to eat with Prince Charming. I ignored them when we came home. I ignored them first thing this morning. I ignored them when we got home from church, and I'm ignoring them now. (And I wonder how my house gets in such disarray so quickly.) The weekends are my time with Prince Charming though, so it doesn't bother me. I refuse to worry about little things when I'm spending time with him.
    


Now... on to the pictures.

     This was an outfit of my own choosing. My Mother says that she hated it - but I loved it. Apparently over the years I have had certain items of clothing that I have fallen in love with. This outfit was apparently one of them. Through the years, there also was a pair of purple light-up sneakers (which I got caught pulling out of the trashcan after Ma had made me throw them out...), a night shirt that had a polar bear in a bathtub on it (that I hid under my mattress - currently still in my trunk - because Ma threatened to throw it away as soon as she saw it again), and some "popcorn" pants. (They were incredibly ugly - but EXTREMELY comfortable.)  

     Me and my Momma...

     I would like to point out how dirty my sister's feet are in this picture. It makes me laugh every time.

 Keep it cheesin', people.

My Momma Makes Me Model...

This post comes kind of early. I wont be able to update again until tomorrow night because I'll be out of town. (I'm actually supposed to have gotten on the road 25 minutes ago...)

These are pictures Momma took of me...

I'm going to guess this was one of those outfits on my own creation... (I was pimping the ugg boots WAY before Hollywood.)

Occasionally, Ma would use me to play dress up and take my picture.  This one (and the next) is an example of some of those times. :)

Don't know what's up with those pants or the flowers...

This one was actually taken at church... I think... But I had to throw it in there. It's one of those were I'm actually cute... shortly thereafter I stopped being cute. You'll see what I mean soon.

Peace and Pictures, People! My butt needs to get on the road!

(I promise - Lord willing and the creek don't rise - pictures and a REAL blog tomorrow night.)



24 years and counting...

     My birthday is coming up in EXACTLY 1 week.
   
     I love birthdays! (You only get so many, you know... and you never know exactly how many you'll get!)  Many people get annoyed with me when it's birthday season. (Yes, I said season... I drag this out!) I get ridiculously happy about it being my birthday. During this time of year, reminding me that my birthday is coming up will instantly change any mood of mine into "insanely happy." and there's a good chance I may start singing my "Birthday Song." So I guess I can understand why they would be annoyed... but I figure I'll just ignore them and go on being happy.

     This year, I had an idea. I would put up a new (old) picture of me every day on facebook until my birthday! Not only do I find this hilarious, but it also gives me a chance to look through my "picture books." Be warned... there is a LOT of bad hair and strange facial expressions fixing to happen over the next week.

     Here's today's pictures:

First Christmas...

I still make this face. (I had really cool toys. This was before I had to share Christmas with the redhead. LOL She knows I love her.)

Apparently Mickey was tasty?...

     Notice the slippers in the first picture... oddly, those must have stayed around for a while, I remember them.

    
... I would write more about today and how it was such a lovely day...( AND HOW MY HOUSE WAS CLEAN!) but I really need to finish making some things and getting ready for the weekend. Plus, I'm amazingly tired.

    Peace, love, and old pictures...

Motivation... or rather, the lack of...

     Wednesday. (Yes, I just mentally said that 'wed-nes-day.')
     Oh Wednesday...

     I want to be completely honest on this blog about my relationship with laundry. I know that I'm not alone in my struggles with it. I know that I'm not the only woman who struggles with clutter. It's just very hard to type about the struggle I have with it - and I have yet to overcome my fear of showing the world a picture of that relationship. I really, really, really want people to think of me as organized. I really, really, really want people to think of me as a fabulous, grown up, and organized housekeeper. (There are a few people that I'm desperately praying don't read this blog because I know what they'd be thinking.) But THOSE people are exactly the people who motivate me to fight the battles and try to better myself. Those people either don't have a clue, don't have a house of their own; they're faking it, or maybe they are perfect (and probably crazy) housekeepers and are just shamelessly mean.

     Let's face it. I've learned how women work. (I've always been surrounded by them.) Your house is an extension of who you are... Any time there is an opportunity to show off your house, you must show it in it's very best light. There is a dear woman in my life that they say used to super clean for three days before company came (almost killed herself with bleach one time...) and when company arrived, everything was perfect and she then used the line that EVERY woman uses after she busts her butt cleaning her dear little home. "Come on in! Now, please don't look at this messy house... I'm so sorry it's a mess... it's a wreck, I just haven't had time to get around to cleaning it."

     Or some variation of that...

     There is a fantastically large chance that you (If you're a woman, generally) have said some form of that line too. Especially, if your house is spotless. It sure makes the other women guests think you're an amazing housekeeper; they're green with envy... usually picturing the disasters they call home. Shamed... and it makes you secretly happy.

     Most often, the situation is a "quicky-clean" this means throwing haphazardly everything (aka junk - everyone has it...) into spare rooms and locking the doors. Hiding clothes in the dryer, behind the shower curtain (of the bathroom the guests wont use - unless you have a great shower curtain, know the visitor is male - or has a strong, large bladder.) IF said company decides to try to snoop around, you throw yourself in front of the forbidden areas as if you're protecting the president from a bullet... they're not getting through to those spots unless they kill you first.

     Very occasionally, you will happen upon a woman whose home is a complete wreck, and in which case the above lines are said with much more shame... generally with the speaker looking around at the mess being spoke of, eyes are averted, head down, hurrying through conversation; trying to rush the guests back out of the door. (Depending on the woman, there may be some sort of underlying threat in her voice or her words which really says: "If you tell ANYONE about this... I will hunt you down and you WILL regret ever speaking those words, you gossiping hussy.")




     Let's put it this way... even though I have organized all of my closets... you should see what my laundry room floor and living room love seat look like... well, you can't really see what they look like.

     They're buried.

     Under a lot of clothes.

Boring old 'Fat Tuesday.'

     Around 7 o'clock last night I started thinking... and an idea was born. I've been busy nursing this idea all day. Thus, I haven't really put much thought into a blog today. My mind is completely preoccupied at the moment.
  
     Sadly, I have to keep snatching myself back to reality because I have a friend coming to visit Thursday afternoon, a party to throw Thursday night. (Which means a house to have sparkling clean by Wednesday night.) A couple of cakes to bake; shopping to do and bills to write out. A dress fitting friday afternoon, another party to throw Friday night, and a couple of meet-ups Saturday.

     Oh my...

P.S. I HATE JUNK. Why do I have SO MUCH of it?!?!

"Things that make me happy" Monday

     It's Monday. (In case you haven't noticed.)

     Monday's are famously seen in a negative light. Poor Monday. So, instead of looking at all the negatives - I figured I'd show a few little things that make me happy.

First up:

     I got the inspiration for this on pinterest a few weeks back. I figured I would give it a try. It's not as nice as the one on there... but hey, it's not bad for someone not very crafty!

Next:

     I love flowers and houseplants. They make any room instantly more friendly and give it that cozy, charming feeling. I made this centerpiece for my dining room table a couple weeks back. All it took was a few dollar store flowers and a yard sale basket. Yea-uh!

     I drove up about eight months ago and my Kitty brought this little one home. (I'm pretty sure it's a she. Her names include "little kitty" "lil' one" and "midget") She's hasn't grown much at all. She's amazingly tiny. She started off super shy - but she always greeted me every morning when I opened the front door. If I didn't she would head over to the windows and peek in and see if I was OK. (She also likes to check on me if I don't get out of the car fast enough when I get home.) She went missing about a week and a half ago. (I didn't know how attached I had become to that tiny black face waiting on me every morning ... until it wasn't there.) I found her in the woods. I couldn't reach her, but I called her and she followed me back to the house. (She's very obedient.) She had gotten into a bit of an accident and messed up one of her back legs. We've been nursing her back to health and the shyness has been slowly melting away. :)

     Meet Kitty. Kitty showed up in the woods last summer as a tiny little kitten during a BBQ we were having with some friends. The guys went and played halo and the girls went to try and catch this little fellow. He evaded us until everyone left. Me and Prince Charming went out to the back porch to sit on the swing and talk and kitty just came on up, pushed the screen door open with his tiny little head and walked right in. He hasn't left since - and I'm so very, very glad. God knew I needed a little buddy. He's the perfect cat. He likes when me and Prince Charming go outside to sit. He just barges right in. Who knew we could love one little kitty so much? Even P.C. will admit that he is the coolest cat around. (An explanation of Kitty's name: I didn't know at the time that Kitty was a boy - I thought he was a girl for the longest time... so I named him Kitty. One day though, Kitty turned around and there was NO mistaking that he was a boy. Unfortunately, the name had already stuck.)

Now for some little things from the weekend that keep me smiling...

     In church yesterday, we talked about the disciple John and how he was "The one whom Jesus loves." He is an example of each and every one of us. No matter where we start out, or what our past looks like - we're still loved. ALWAYS. No matter how anyone else wants to label us, the only label Jesus has for us is "The one that I love."

     Finally, we headed out to eat with the in-laws and bug the other night. She got so excited when we got to the restaurant because it was RIGHT beside the water tower! So Prince Charming took her to touch the water tower - she was SO excited! They skipped all the way back to the restaurant.

     Here's to kitty cats, little decorations, being loved, water towers, and skipping for joy over the little things in life.

     Peace, love, and all that good stuff.
     Happy Monday!

Clutter, clutter everywhere!

     I've been in the process of spring cleaning this week. It's not the most fun process, BUT... it is necessary if you want to have a nice, pretty, clean house.
    
     Pinterest has inspired me to give my home a little more personality... but in order to do that, I must clean it first. Not that my house is ever horrible....(Well... okay, sometimes it is horrible - but not ALL of the time.) I just happen to have been struggling with a lifelong battle with clutter. Especially paper clutter - and that's the absolute worst kind.

     There is a story that my parents have told many times about me when I was about 3 years old. Apparently, my Daddy had made me a beautiful toy box. I loved to play in it, but refused to put my toys inside of it. (Apparently, I liked them on display... where I could easily find and access them - smart kid, I was.) One day, when my parents were tired of all of my mess, Daddy told me that if I did not put my toys away he would take them all to the dump. Later, when he went to go somewhere, I ran through the house yelling "Daddy wait!" I handed him one of my toys and told him to take that to the dump too.
     Apparently, things didn't get easier for me when I got older, either. I remember many times when I was put on a timer and told if I didn't clean my room in that time period, my behind would be in some serious trouble. (My parents figured out I had to be put on a time crunch; I can be easily distracted.) Therefore, I became an expert at "speed cleaning." Speed cleaning was awesome, especially during college. My suitemate Katie told me once that I amazed her. When she would go to bed at 1am the night before roomchecks, my room would be a disaster. (I have laundry issues - lots of clothes and never enough space. Granted, part of my problem is the fact that I'm often too lazy to hang them up or put them away.) Mysteriously, when she woke up the next morning, my room would be immaculate and beautifully clean. I LOVE being such an amazing speed cleaner.

     BUT I don't WANT to have to speed clean. I WANT to always have things neat, organized, and clean. Apparently, it's a learning process. I've heard many other people with my problem joke that it's kind of like AA, but for messy people. haha.

     (Random, but just to make something clear: I may be messy, but please don't think I'm disgusting. I do NOT leave food lying around and there are NEVER bugs in my house. Nothing disgusts me more than a cockroach.)

     I have learned that speed cleaning often does not eliminate clutter - it only confines it in a inconspicuous and nice looking space. Believe me, clutter breeds, multiplies, and grows and grows... and before you know it, it looks like the clutter monster family has thrown up all over your living space. Therefore, it is necessary to "clean out" at least a couple of times a year. It's difficult to throw a lot of things away. I'm very sentimental about things so it's extra difficult for me, and Prince Charming also has a lot of junk he likes to hold on to - but I know I must do it anyway or we'll end up on that TV show 'hoarders.' (My Grandma B could have been on that show... it's scary how quickly those little piles can add up...) So, it's best to re-evaluate, toss, and move on!

     (Note: often this process is quite scary. It often gets worse before it gets better. Often this creates feelings of frustration, anger, sadness, fear and hopelessness - but keep plugging away. It will get better - but it wont if you stop.)

     I've started a nice little yard sale pile... I figure if I'm going to have to say "ta-ta" to my stuff, I should at least get a couple bucks for it! :)

Fried Chicken and the Man Cave

     In case you didn't pick up on it from my first blog... I'll just go ahead and say it bluntly: I cannot cook. I can bake, but cooking is a BIG lesson in progress.

      I used to be so entirely terrible at cooking that I was only allowed to do 3 things involved in meal preparation: Make tea, make rice, and set the table. (I currently only remember how to do 2 of those 3 things.) I ended up being the butt of many family jokes because of the few times that I did attempt to make dinner. Even when I was quite young, I remember people telling me "Beth, you're just going to have to find a rich man or one that knows how to cook and clean." Fortunately, God has a sense of humor and blessed me with a man pickier than any 3 year old I know and who doesn't really care about my housekeeping skills.

     Tonight I cleaned out and organized Prince Charming's man cave - and color coordinated his closet - hip, hip, hooray! I was hungry from all of that work - but I didn't want to go out to eat. So... I decided I'd try my hand at some fried chicken. (I've fried chicken before, it's just not something people will be clamoring for currently. It'll keep you alive, though.) Since my other recipes weren't working out the best I figured I would try a new one.

     So, first off... I thawed and washed my chicken strips. (I learned the hard way that the thawing part is particularly important.) I whipped up an egg and milk wash for the chicken to soak in for a few minutes. Added some salt and pepper before I floured them up, then stuck them in the pan and watched them fry, fry fry!

     Afterwards, I tried something I had seen on TV this afternoon. I put them on a paper toweled plate like usual, and then stuck my cake plate lid over the top. It's supposed to make it tender from "steaming"...

     So,this would be the finished product. You can't tell but some of them turned out a little more "browned" than they were intended to be. (I forgot about the last few because I was making stuffing.)

     I said my blessing a dug in! (It's always best to pray before any meal I cook - especially if it's chicken.) We'll find out what Prince Charming thinks of it tomorrow. (Best part is: he's super honest.) My personal thoughts of my chicken?
   
      ..... It was "okay."

Once upon a time...

     Okay, so first of all... I am not Cinderella. Though, we do have a few things in common. We both have a fantastic fairy tale love story. We both have an extremely handsome and loving Prince Charming. We both have a lot of animal friends, and we both do A LOT of housework. (She's better at it than I am, though.) I chose Cinderella because of these things - and because I feel that I understand her. I always feel like a princess when it comes to the story of my life. Though... when it comes to my house... it's more like the before-the-ball Cinderella.
    
     Every woman that I know, wants to be the Proverbs 31 wife. I was no exception. The only problem is... people forget to tell you (or maybe you're so far off in dream land that you just don't hear them... who knows?) that you do not wake up the day after your wedding day magically transformed into the perfect wife. (We just celebrated our 1 year anniversary - you don't wake up transformed into the perfect wife the morning after that one either.) If you're like me, your husband loves you so much, he doesn't see this reality. Whether the blindness is by choice or because he just doesn't notice - either way, it's love.(I'm pretty sure that it's by choice, because let's face it, the mounds of clothes that never seem to make it into the closet, dresser, or the washing machine every day are kind of hard to miss.
    
     So... this is my blog. This is my journey to becoming the "perfect" wife. (I'm blessed because my husband already thinks I am.) You know, the one who keeps her house clean ALL of the time.( Mine only seems to be clean when no one wants to visit.) Who is thrifty, and brings in a little money. Who manages to look pretty even when she's cleaning. Who can cook amazing, healthy, fantastic tasting meals (that even her super picky husband will eat!) and to whom laundry is a dear friend - not her worst enemy and the bane of her existence.

Disclaimer: No worries folks, I'm not going to be one of those crazy obsessive women. This is just a record of a real life "Happily Ever After," for a real life Cinderella.

P.S. In case you're one of those negative, downer people... Please keep your pie-hole shut, your fingers away from your keyboard, and your comments away from my blog. No one is making you read my blog. Thanks. :)