Nostalgia Lane

The homecoming dance is this weekend, and I made these hair flowers for a girl to wear in her smashing updo. I love the Sunday following a dance. The girls always parade their fancy gowns up and down the church hallways, and I always whisper to my homegurl, "Don't they look radiant?"

I'm liking the current vintage trend. I see girls around here totting their grandma's purses and wearing new-to-them cardigans or cocktail rings they've purchased from local thrift shops. I like old fashion turned new. It's resourceful thinking at its best.

P.S. I made these flowers out of fabric remnants.

Feeling Autumn

Today I let autumn in through my front door. Arizona's blasting infernal heat has eased a bit, and that's why I bought bread bowls shaped like pumpkins for tonight's dinner. I'm piling all the leftover chicken into a pot, adding butter, broth, and a teensy little prayer, in hopes of disguising the traces of last night's Chicken Clump Delight.

I also thought about what I should be for Halloween. I've always dreamed of dressing up like Sleeping Beauty's Maleficent. She's so divinely evil, and her purple eye shadow and coiling horns are so glamorously scary. My homies might say that I don't really need a costume to dress up like a witch. They'd never say that about me, right?

Hot Pink Pencil Box

The kids in Mrs. Harnish's kindergarten class have a way of keeping you from going astray. Chase will welcome you with a hug, his arms tightly wound around your thighs. He'll say, "Your legs feel kinda of wiggly-jiggly, huh?" And then a veil of guilt will fall across your heart as you think, "I should have skipped eating that fun-sized Kit-Kat for breakfast."

And then, while your reading a story to Mrs. Harnish's kids, the story about Mr. Wormy and his gargantuan apple, Grant will sneeze a sneeze so large, it will spray spittle-spattle all over your face. You'll gracefully wipe away the spatter, promising yourself a stop at Walgreen's for a flu shot--you've earned it.

While you're explaining to Miranda how to connect the dots, she'll plug her noise while telling you that mints are the best way to cure a serious case of bad breath. She may also remind you to brush more often.

Then Abigail and Shirley will tap you on your shoulder and say, "Little boys should never bring their crayons to school in a hot pink pencil box. Pink is for girls and pretty princesses, not for little boys."

They'll point to the hot pink pencil box sitting atop your very own son's desk. You'll walk over to where he is sitting and whisper into his ear, "Is your pencil box hot pink?"

"Yes. You told me it was the color of cinnamon red, but the girls always say it's hot pink. They tell me this everyday."

You'll tell your little son that he's a stud and to not sweat those gals. What do they know, anyway?

But on the way home from Mrs. Harnish's class, you'll stop off at Walgreen's to buy an electric blue pencil box and a fresh set of crayons. You'll get your flu shot, and just before you check out, you'll buy a 3-pack of chocolates wrapped in gold foil. Instead of eating all three, you'll just eat one, because who wants to continue growing a set of wiggly-jiggly thighs?

Hair Flair Extraordinaire, Part II: Louise Plummer

I've been blog-stalking Louise Plummer for a good six months. I found her blog while searching for famous BYU professors, which, of course, she is. Louise has written award-winning YA novels and has been published in many magazines. She and her husband Tom are currently working as faculty advisors for one of BYU's Study Abroad programs.

Louise's witty and humorous observations about life inspire me to think more positively about my own life. But I mostly admire her ability to glam-up a Jean Kate hair accessory. Just look at this gorgeous lady. She's proof that you're never too old to add flair to your hair, and you're never too old to go to prom, either.

That's why tonight you may catch Louise dancing in the kitchen with her dear, sweet Tom, having her very own prom. (I sent her the above pictured hair accessories to make up for the fact that she never went to her high school prom.)

You can soak up more about this post on Louise's personal blog: Five Crows. And, on every blessed Thursday, she posts more of her hilarity on another one of my favorite blogs: The Apron Stage.

Hair Flair Extraordinaire

Jean Kate (My own little business)

Lou and Lee

House of Telsa

True Birds

Tarina Tarantino

Forever 21

Riverside, California is home to the largest Forever 21 store on this planet, and I was lucky to have shopped there this past weekend. I gathered a basket full of hair flair, because nothing completes an outfit better than the right hair accessory. I'm listing a few of my favorite hair flair haunts for your reading pleasure and inspiration.

Maybe you're like mi madre and find inspiration in almost anything you see. Maybe you'll come up with something extraordinary. If you do, I'd love to have your link.

Crazy Day

You may be having one of "those" days. The kind of day when you know there isn't enough time to get done what you need to get done--a totally crazy, out-of-your-mind kind of day. That's why I'm sending you some good luck love, along with a kiss and a hug and a teensy little prayer. I've obviously had my fair share of "those" kind of days.

P.S. If you're curious about this picture, mi Amor took it because I HATED how unhealthy, my then, new hair color made my hair. I put a bunch of Bumble and Bumble in my hair, in hopes of restoring my bleach fried ends, hence, the silly face and spiky hair. Bad hair can ruin your day (or the next six months), so I hope you're having a good hair day too.

Treats on the Seat

Sometimes school is boring. I know because I volunteer in my homies' classes, and I nearly die of boredom every time I'm there. I think the fear of performing poorly on standardized tests has forced schools to adopt curriculum that will ensure testing success. This drill-like and repetitious way of teaching is tedious and dull, to say the least.

That's why I'm understanding when my kids complain, "I don't want to go to school today. It's so hard to listen for that long." I tell them, "I feel your pain. I could hardly sit through grading papers without grabbing the bathroom pass for a little powder room break. But your job is to do your best, no matter what. Look forward to the good parts of school--library, recess, lunch, art, music, and coming home to your dear, sweet madre." (The sweet part happens five times out of ten.) They usually agree to do this and move on.

But sometimes they really dread going, and their complaints become endless. That's when I cut them off and say, "When I pick you up from school, there will be a treat on the seat, waiting just for you."

This small incentive (bribe) makes them move past the dread and helps them to focus on the positive parts of the day. It also gets them off my back, and I think that's why I really give them the treats.

Sabbath Day Scorp.

Before

Let's just say that my La Tiny days came in handy on this blessed Sabbath Day. That's right, scorp. You're messin' with the wrong chica.

After

P.S. OK. I admit that mi Amor actually killed it, and I was only the photographer, but we look tough, don't we? My National Geographic photography and his bowhunting skills, there's no denying that we make a great team.

P.P.S I had one of these crawling up my lily white leg just a few days ago. I blamed it on Carolyn.

Sabotage: Don't Stop Believing

Here's my confession: I love sabotaging my homgurl's iVideo sessions. I'm not always granted the opportunity to cast myself into her productions, but yesterday, I was in the right place, at the right time. Don't stop believing in your dreams.

P.S. If you're not using Sprayway to clean your counter tops, you're missing out on some good, clean fun. I can't get enough of the stuff. Thanks to Costco, I have a year supply.

P.P.S Someone here is a screen hog. It's not me or my homgurl's friend. (You may think it's me, though.)

Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle

I missed the patience line in heaven (and a few other lines), so I have to work REALLY hard at keeping a lid on it. I tell my homies all the time, "It's kind of exciting having a mom like me; you never know what you're going to get: happy, sad, funny, yelling, dancing, flipping-out." They always say it's way fun, "It's like having a different mom everyday."

I'm not proud of that; really, I'm not. But a few years back I crossed my heart and promised to be the same mom before bed each night: happy mom. Sometimes I pretend to be a waitress. I drape a red cloth napkin over my arm and say, "Here's the water you ordered, Sir." They giggle and ask for another drink. I tell them, "We don't allow bed wetters in our restaurant, so we'd better not risk it."

Then we do "A Tickle and a Kiss." That's when I tickle them head to toe.

"Oops, I think you missed my little toe, Mom. And don't forget to skate figure eights around our eyes. That's the best part."

When they're satisfied with their tickle, I lean over and plant a wet one on each forehead. Sometimes I go crazy, kissing every inch of each face. "That's enough! That's too many kisses--gross," they say.

Then I settle underneath the doorway and read.

"Can we have a whole chapter tonight?" they ask.

"We'll see."

I read until their breathing becomes synced with the ceiling fan whirring above our heads. They often drift into dreamland before I've finished two pages. I continue sitting, still reading. I know I can stop, but I read on. The story holds me still in time, quiet, secure, constant.

I finish a chapter, bunny ear the page, and lay the book next to the door. I tuck in their blankets, leaving their feet naked--the way they like it. I pass out another round of kisses and whisper, "Goodnight."

The REAL reason for this post was to say how much I LOVE the book pictured above. My kids can't wait to read it again tonight.