So, it's been almost a year since I last posted ... man, can I tell you how crazy 2012 was for my family?
Without going into too many details, I'll just say it's been quite a learning experience. I wasn't sure that I'd come back to this blog, but I kept it up, just in case.
So for any of you who are still here, thank you. How's the year been?
For anyone new who finds me, hello! So glad you're here :)
I'll be back soon with new things. Fun things.
Or I'll take another year off ... ha. Probably not.
Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts
Monday, December 17, 2012
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Harry Potter: Nerd Alert
I decided that my almost 5-year-old son was ready for the magic of Harry Potter. He'd seen parts of the movie before and has asked for it for Christmas. Being a book NERD, I told him we needed to start with the books.
I don't care what you do when you're on your own, but while you're in MY house, you will always start with the BOOKS.
New rule.
It's been a looong time since I've read the first book. So I just sort of assumed he'd be ready. I mean, I knew it might be a little over his head, but doable. Right?
Not so much. I mean, there's just a lot of background, you know? Talking about Mr. Dursley's job at the drill company. How he and his wife loathe "weirdos." Just fluff that's not usually in age-appropriate books for him.
Whenever I read books to him, I have him lie down and close his eyes so he can imagine it. I do this for three reasons -- I want him to use his mind to see what I'm reading, to make sure he really focuses AND to make sure he relaxes and hopefully drifts easily to dreamland.
The first chapter is 17 pages, y'all. At page 10 he started to really droop. Page 11, I suspected and page 12 confirmed that he had fallen fast asleep, tucked in with thoughts of a tabby cat and old Professor Dumbledore.
Here's where the nerd alert comes in -- I started to cry while reading the book. I know, I know.
But I was really invested in those books! And starting over, reading about the day James and Lily died and Harry became an orphan -- and reading about all these people who have no idea what's coming next.
And, yes, I realize it's a book. Fake.
But still.
Apparently there's still a part of me that's sad Dumbledore died. Because when he showed up, bah. It was over for me.
My kiddo might be a little young right now. We might have to put it back on the shelf. But I hope when he's ready, that it impacts him as much as it did (does) me. Good books move you when you're reading them.
Great books move you when you think about them, even 10+ years later.
I don't care what you do when you're on your own, but while you're in MY house, you will always start with the BOOKS.
New rule.
It's been a looong time since I've read the first book. So I just sort of assumed he'd be ready. I mean, I knew it might be a little over his head, but doable. Right?
Not so much. I mean, there's just a lot of background, you know? Talking about Mr. Dursley's job at the drill company. How he and his wife loathe "weirdos." Just fluff that's not usually in age-appropriate books for him.
Whenever I read books to him, I have him lie down and close his eyes so he can imagine it. I do this for three reasons -- I want him to use his mind to see what I'm reading, to make sure he really focuses AND to make sure he relaxes and hopefully drifts easily to dreamland.
The first chapter is 17 pages, y'all. At page 10 he started to really droop. Page 11, I suspected and page 12 confirmed that he had fallen fast asleep, tucked in with thoughts of a tabby cat and old Professor Dumbledore.
Here's where the nerd alert comes in -- I started to cry while reading the book. I know, I know.
But I was really invested in those books! And starting over, reading about the day James and Lily died and Harry became an orphan -- and reading about all these people who have no idea what's coming next.
And, yes, I realize it's a book. Fake.
But still.
Apparently there's still a part of me that's sad Dumbledore died. Because when he showed up, bah. It was over for me.
My kiddo might be a little young right now. We might have to put it back on the shelf. But I hope when he's ready, that it impacts him as much as it did (does) me. Good books move you when you're reading them.
Great books move you when you think about them, even 10+ years later.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
MIA: One SD Card Reader
I have posts. Oh, I have posts.
Posts about quick, yummy pizza. Some about really messy children. Superheroes. Pumpkin Whoopie Pies.
But I can't find my card reader.
So ... these posts must wait.
Sigh.
Posts about quick, yummy pizza. Some about really messy children. Superheroes. Pumpkin Whoopie Pies.
But I can't find my card reader.
So ... these posts must wait.
Sigh.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Of Late
Sorry for the lack of posts ... it's been unusually stormy around here.
On Sunday, I got bit by a spider on my left temple, which has caused a whole round of problems, but I think it's finally looking up. Let me tell you -- spider bites on your face are not fun.
The hardest part, though, happened last Friday, when my husband's aunt passed away after a 4-year battle with breast cancer. We've had family in town and had her funeral Thursday.
My son is really, really torn up. It was hard enough explaining cancer to a 4 year old, but then to tell him she died ...
He thought we were going to see her at the funeral and was crushed when it was just to say goodbye. He spent the rest of the evening glued to the TV at his great-grandmother's house watching the video of Lori run on loop. He fell asleep with her picture.
I'll be back with new posts, soon. Keep our family in your thoughts. She left her mom, husband, three girls, two sisters and a brother who all really miss her.
And one little boy who tells me every night he hopes she comes to see him in his dreams.
On Sunday, I got bit by a spider on my left temple, which has caused a whole round of problems, but I think it's finally looking up. Let me tell you -- spider bites on your face are not fun.
The hardest part, though, happened last Friday, when my husband's aunt passed away after a 4-year battle with breast cancer. We've had family in town and had her funeral Thursday.
 |
| For Lori |
My son is really, really torn up. It was hard enough explaining cancer to a 4 year old, but then to tell him she died ...
He thought we were going to see her at the funeral and was crushed when it was just to say goodbye. He spent the rest of the evening glued to the TV at his great-grandmother's house watching the video of Lori run on loop. He fell asleep with her picture.
I'll be back with new posts, soon. Keep our family in your thoughts. She left her mom, husband, three girls, two sisters and a brother who all really miss her.
And one little boy who tells me every night he hopes she comes to see him in his dreams.
Monday, September 26, 2011
A to Z of Me
A. Age: 29
B. Bed size: Queen. If we ever move to a new house, a King would be lovely.C. Chore that you hate: Who likes to scrub a toilet? Not this girl.
D. Dogs: I appreciate their existence.
E. Essential start to your day: Talk radio. I can't listen to music in the morning.
F. Favorite color: Cerulean, as a crayon. Golden yellow as a flower. Orange as a sunset.
G. Gold or Silver: Gold is growing on me.
H. Height: 5'5" ish
I. Instruments you play: Does three chords on the guitar count?
J. Job title: Catalog Marketing Manager
K. Kids: Two rascals.
L. Live: Oklahoma.
M. Mother’s name: Brenda
N. Nicknames: Careg, Kiddo.
O. Overnight hospital stays: Just when I had my kiddos.
P. Pet peeves: Loud smacking.
Q. Quote from a movie: Please don't be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it's my least favorite quality. It doesn't lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you--amazing things will happen
R. Right or left handed: Right
S. Siblings: Half sister (19), half brother (38)
U. Underwear: I also appreciate its existence.
V. Vegetable you hate: I like veggies. But raw cabbage is yuck.
W. What makes you run late: The kids, usually. But I hate being late.
X. X-Rays you’ve had: Leg (knee), ankle
Y. Yummy food that you make: Baked goods, soups ... I'm a pretty good cook.
Z. Zoo animal: Giraffes and monkeys.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Follow the Turtle!
It's been a busy week -- so sorry about the lack of posts! But BIG NEWS!
Guys, I'm so excited because tomorrow (THURSDAY!) I'm doing a guest post on A Turtle's Life for Me! Come by and check out one of my favorite blogs!
Thanks for having me, Natalie!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Blue September
He let us out of class early, so I got to walk home from my 8 a.m. physics lab after only 45 minutes.
It was one of those mornings where things just felt right -- lucky. The day started off so well. In the scorching hot Texas summer that was finally coming to an end, I was praying for a morning like that. It was so blue. So crisp. The walk back to my dorm from class took less than five minutes. That's what I loved most about that class -- it may have started earlier than I wanted, but it was RIGHTNEXT to my dorm, so it allowed me to wake up late, get there quick and get home in no time.
Five minutes. That's all it took to get back to my building. But the memory of that morning is so strong. The sky was bluer than I'd ever remember seeing it. It was the kind of morning that made you feel good about not just the day, but about your life. It's easy to be optimistic in the face of a morning so light, cheerful, peaceful. It was so peaceful.
I would have remembered that morning ten years later even if it hadn't been THAT morning.
But it was.
Leaving the beautiful sky behind me, I walked into my dorm, took an elevator to my floor and headed toward my room. Five minutes later, I had my key at the lock of my door when the girl who lived across from me stopped me and asked if I'd heard about New York.
No, I said. Quickly, and with more of a gossipy tone than with the weight of the event in her voice, she told me a plane crashed into the World Trade Center. I rushed inside, turned on CNN and saw the smoke.
And that was it. Just like that, my childhood ended. Everything became before and after.
There were phone calls to my military ex-boyfriend's grandfather to see what he, a Navy veteran himself, thought would happen. "War," he said, simply.
There was the call to my dad to tell him the news. He'd been driving all morning and hadn't heard.
There was the feeling that this was all just a movie I was watching on screen. Some summer blockbuster even Hollywood wasn't jaded enough to write.
There was the moment when the next plane crashed -- something I missed because I was on the phone with someone, anyone, to talk to about this so I didn't have to share it alone in my room. Because I couldn't leave, for fear I'd miss them telling me who did it.
Like knowing the name would have made it better, somehow.
Now we know and now he's dead and it's not better. I feel like it gets worse each year because there are so many new people who don't know. Who weren't there. Who don't remember. Who won't ever GET IT.
How do I tell my kids when they're older? How do I steel myself for the time when it's just learning and history to them? Like Pearl Harbor was to me. That will never affect me the way it did the people who were there.
If I can't accurately explain to them the horror of 8:46 a.m., how can I explain just how perfect that September morning was at 8:45?
It was just so blue.
It was one of those mornings where things just felt right -- lucky. The day started off so well. In the scorching hot Texas summer that was finally coming to an end, I was praying for a morning like that. It was so blue. So crisp. The walk back to my dorm from class took less than five minutes. That's what I loved most about that class -- it may have started earlier than I wanted, but it was RIGHTNEXT to my dorm, so it allowed me to wake up late, get there quick and get home in no time.
Five minutes. That's all it took to get back to my building. But the memory of that morning is so strong. The sky was bluer than I'd ever remember seeing it. It was the kind of morning that made you feel good about not just the day, but about your life. It's easy to be optimistic in the face of a morning so light, cheerful, peaceful. It was so peaceful.
I would have remembered that morning ten years later even if it hadn't been THAT morning.
But it was.
Leaving the beautiful sky behind me, I walked into my dorm, took an elevator to my floor and headed toward my room. Five minutes later, I had my key at the lock of my door when the girl who lived across from me stopped me and asked if I'd heard about New York.
No, I said. Quickly, and with more of a gossipy tone than with the weight of the event in her voice, she told me a plane crashed into the World Trade Center. I rushed inside, turned on CNN and saw the smoke.
And that was it. Just like that, my childhood ended. Everything became before and after.
There were phone calls to my military ex-boyfriend's grandfather to see what he, a Navy veteran himself, thought would happen. "War," he said, simply.
There was the call to my dad to tell him the news. He'd been driving all morning and hadn't heard.
There was the feeling that this was all just a movie I was watching on screen. Some summer blockbuster even Hollywood wasn't jaded enough to write.
There was the moment when the next plane crashed -- something I missed because I was on the phone with someone, anyone, to talk to about this so I didn't have to share it alone in my room. Because I couldn't leave, for fear I'd miss them telling me who did it.
Like knowing the name would have made it better, somehow.
Now we know and now he's dead and it's not better. I feel like it gets worse each year because there are so many new people who don't know. Who weren't there. Who don't remember. Who won't ever GET IT.
How do I tell my kids when they're older? How do I steel myself for the time when it's just learning and history to them? Like Pearl Harbor was to me. That will never affect me the way it did the people who were there.
If I can't accurately explain to them the horror of 8:46 a.m., how can I explain just how perfect that September morning was at 8:45?
It was just so blue.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Rectangle Shirt
Another Pinterest find!
Who's addicted to Pinterest? Me. You? It's awesome. Not on it? Want an invite? I will be your pusher. You just let me know.
This is my version. Now, please note, I didn't shop for fabric for this. YES, this looks like a curtain. That's because it was made from old curtain fabric. I felt very Sound of Music.
I'm not in LOVE with it, but I do like it. It's the first thing like this that I've made for ME. I think I'll wear it with a cardigan to work this week.
Excited!
Who's addicted to Pinterest? Me. You? It's awesome. Not on it? Want an invite? I will be your pusher. You just let me know.
This is my version. Now, please note, I didn't shop for fabric for this. YES, this looks like a curtain. That's because it was made from old curtain fabric. I felt very Sound of Music.
I'm not in LOVE with it, but I do like it. It's the first thing like this that I've made for ME. I think I'll wear it with a cardigan to work this week.
Excited!
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
And Runnin', Runnin'
I started the couch to 5K program last Friday and so far, it's been pretty good!
I actually ran at 6 on the treadmill (10-min mile), which, if you know anything about me, is RIDICULOUS. Of course, that was last week. I ran Friday and Saturday, then Zumba on Sunday. I took an off day yesterday then ran again today between 4.8-5 because my asthma wanted to kill me. I was not as quick-footed as last week.
The plan for this week:
Wednesday - Zumba
Thursday - Run
Friday - Bike
Saturday - Run
Sunday - Zumba
Saturday is also the little lady's THIRD birthday party! I'm doing a sweets-themed bash and am making gumdrops, banana/nilla sandwiches, melon skewers, chocolate and peppermint meringue drops and rainbow cupcakes. I was going to have a cookie bar for the kids to decorate their own treats, but there are only 8 kiddos coming, so I'm just going to let them sprinkle their own cupcakes.
Big week coming up!
I actually ran at 6 on the treadmill (10-min mile), which, if you know anything about me, is RIDICULOUS. Of course, that was last week. I ran Friday and Saturday, then Zumba on Sunday. I took an off day yesterday then ran again today between 4.8-5 because my asthma wanted to kill me. I was not as quick-footed as last week.
The plan for this week:
Wednesday - Zumba
Thursday - Run
Friday - Bike
Saturday - Run
Sunday - Zumba
Saturday is also the little lady's THIRD birthday party! I'm doing a sweets-themed bash and am making gumdrops, banana/nilla sandwiches, melon skewers, chocolate and peppermint meringue drops and rainbow cupcakes. I was going to have a cookie bar for the kids to decorate their own treats, but there are only 8 kiddos coming, so I'm just going to let them sprinkle their own cupcakes.
Big week coming up!
Friday, July 22, 2011
Dance Moms!
Have you seen this?
It's my new favorite obsession.
A long time ago, I used to dance. I had a horrible director (meaning that at 17 I thought I knew everything and she was harsh, rude, catty, mean-spirited and also excellent at making winning dance teams) who called me -- a size 5 at the time -- too fat to dance after I had knee surgery.
So I quit dancing. I do and don't regret it at the same time. I sort of wish that I'd stuck it out and thought that shoot, screw her. Her opinion doesn't define me. I'm my OWN WOMAN. But I was also still a girl who was desperately seeking a mother figure and this woman, as awful as she was, was one of the closest of those I had. So for her to call me fat? OUT. I'm out.
But this show is fantastic for me to watch. Because now as a mom, I identify with the mothers on the show (in that we've both raised children, not because I'm psychotic). It's been nice to "come back" to dancing via this show, having grown up and accepted that sometimes you need really brash personalities to bring out the best. The director on this show is HORRIBLE and very much reminds me of my director. Terrible personality; excellent coach.
I was talking to the hubs last night about the show and said that if our daughter truly wants to dance, and to be the best dancer, I'd be open to the idea of letting someone so gruff and awful coach her if she were capable of helping our girl realize her dreams. And only if Ella were OK with it. But if she's not that into dance and is getting her feelings hurt by a woman who says she could, "Hide you under my skirt because you're too fat to dance and everyone will believe me when I said it's just because you didn't make the dance," then ... you know what? Quit. You can quit for that.
I did.
It's my new favorite obsession.
A long time ago, I used to dance. I had a horrible director (meaning that at 17 I thought I knew everything and she was harsh, rude, catty, mean-spirited and also excellent at making winning dance teams) who called me -- a size 5 at the time -- too fat to dance after I had knee surgery.
So I quit dancing. I do and don't regret it at the same time. I sort of wish that I'd stuck it out and thought that shoot, screw her. Her opinion doesn't define me. I'm my OWN WOMAN. But I was also still a girl who was desperately seeking a mother figure and this woman, as awful as she was, was one of the closest of those I had. So for her to call me fat? OUT. I'm out.
But this show is fantastic for me to watch. Because now as a mom, I identify with the mothers on the show (in that we've both raised children, not because I'm psychotic). It's been nice to "come back" to dancing via this show, having grown up and accepted that sometimes you need really brash personalities to bring out the best. The director on this show is HORRIBLE and very much reminds me of my director. Terrible personality; excellent coach.
I was talking to the hubs last night about the show and said that if our daughter truly wants to dance, and to be the best dancer, I'd be open to the idea of letting someone so gruff and awful coach her if she were capable of helping our girl realize her dreams. And only if Ella were OK with it. But if she's not that into dance and is getting her feelings hurt by a woman who says she could, "Hide you under my skirt because you're too fat to dance and everyone will believe me when I said it's just because you didn't make the dance," then ... you know what? Quit. You can quit for that.
I did.
 |
| Debbie Downer out! |
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Refashionin' it up
So this is a refashion that I did a few months back. I LOVE it. Unfortunately, it shrunk a bit in the wash (might have been dry clean only ... I don't follow "rules" as often as I should when it comes to laundry. Call me wild.) ... so I need to update it with something at the bottom. But still, LOVE.
Here's what it looked like when I thrifted it ($3, what, what?):
So, sure. It was a little to the left of hideous. But I adored the buttons and the lacy collar could be utilized better. The shoulder pads, obviously, had to go, but the dress had POCKETS. I mean. Come on. How do you pass up casual pockets?
Alright, so here's my dirty secret. I don't know how to work my sewing machine. I got one for our wedding and it's been collecting dust. I learned to use a sewing machine in 6th grade home ec, but man, that's been a while. I've gotten good at sewing by hand.
So, for this dress I used hem tape and my two hands.
Here's the after:
Not bad, right? I took off the collar and used the gorgeous lace as pocket details, removed the shoulder pads and made the neckline v-shaped. I also shortened the dress quite a bit, which really helped the overall look.
I'm so happy with this dress. I was able to keep the parts of it that I loved (look at the buttons!), and make it age-appropriate. Love.
Here's what it looked like when I thrifted it ($3, what, what?):
 |
| Jealous of the sexy? Kindly ignore the dust under the couch. It's clean now. |
Alright, so here's my dirty secret. I don't know how to work my sewing machine. I got one for our wedding and it's been collecting dust. I learned to use a sewing machine in 6th grade home ec, but man, that's been a while. I've gotten good at sewing by hand.
So, for this dress I used hem tape and my two hands.
Here's the after:
 |
| Look! A white crayon! |
I'm so happy with this dress. I was able to keep the parts of it that I loved (look at the buttons!), and make it age-appropriate. Love.
In the beginning ...
You know, I read all of these blogs about people's lives, hobbies, loves ... and it makes me happy. I love seeing how creative people are, how they spend their lives. Maybe it's the same thing in me that drew me toward journalism. I'm constantly curious about people.
I'm sure you'll get to know me as the posts pile up, so I'm not going to laboriously detail me and my family in this first post. But if you stick around, I'd be honored to get to know you, and for you to know me.
Caressa
I'm sure you'll get to know me as the posts pile up, so I'm not going to laboriously detail me and my family in this first post. But if you stick around, I'd be honored to get to know you, and for you to know me.
Caressa
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