I Finished the Sash

I don't know if the bride-to-be will actually wear this sash, but it turned out better than I had thought. I had nightmares over what flowers should go where, and I was nervous that it would turn out looking too homemade--something I barfed up at an R.S. Super Saturday. Do we even do those anymore?

Going to the Temple, and We're Going to Get Married

One of my most favorite young women, in the whole wide world, is getting married in May. Today I've been working on a bridal sash, in hopes of coming up with the most perfect piece for her big day. I will keep you posted on this project and will take better photos so you can get a better look. The sash is only half way done, so we'll have to see...Potential???

Tyler, R.I.P.

Maybe there should be a comma between someone and help me? Maybe not.

For about a week one of my homies toted Tyler the plastic fish around in a glass bowl. Since the bowl was without a lid (How many times must I buy replacement Pyrex?), he would put Tyler in a plastic baggie when we had to go out. He'd slosh him around in water that turned a cloudy, filmy beige by the end of the day. I can't tell you how many times the baggie leaked--in the car, at the basketball game, and during the Pledge at the cub scouts' Blue and Gold banquet.

After about a week of cleaning up after Tyler and moving his lidless bowl around to different places in the kitchen--Tyler's resting place--I told my homie, "I don't like Tyler anymore. He doesn't lower my blood pressure." And he said, "Nothing does." So as I was cleaning the kitchen that night, I murdered Tyler.

When my homie woke up in the morning and found the note and his beloved Tyler, he said, "Tyler's not dead, Mom. See him? He still has one drop of water on him, so he's alive." I smiled and said, "He must be magic."

My homie walked to the water cooler and filled Tyler's bowl, plopping him back into the water just as it neared the brim. He put the bowl back on the counter and gave him some crushed Saltines for fish food.

I let Tyler stay for one more day, then it was over...

Huffing Sharpies

I've spent the last two hours making this poster for tomorrow's primary singing time. I'm the new primary music leader, you know, and I now spend most of my Saturday nights plotting a way to wow the ties off the senior primary boys. There's a herd of them, and they can easily turn Singing Time into Torture the Chorister Time. One of my homies is a member of the boy herd, and he's got my back, most of the time.

The above posters are for the song, "The Books of the New Testament," and it's one of my favorite primary tunes. As some of you may know, its melody is the same as "Praise to the Man," also a personal fave.

I decided to outline all the words to the song with a big, fat black sharpie. I want to make sure the boys in the back can see every word. As I outlined all 190 letters, the ceiling fan above my head swirled and spread the fumes throughout our house. My eyes were watering, and I think I was huffing, so Mi Amor called down from the stairs and said, "Are you about done with that thing? It's ridiculous how much time you spend on this stuff." I told him to simmer down and that I only had 5 letters left to outline.

After I finished tracing my letters, I turned up my boom box and sang along to "The Books of the New Testament" about 200 times. I kept getting stuck on the timing for "first and second Corinthians." I think Mi Amor slammed the door on round 7 of my song practice, but I've got the song down pat now.

Bad Biff and the Worst Lunch

I biffed it bad in step today, a total derriere splat. My fall made a loud noise, and I heard some snickering from behind. I thought to myself, "You should have worn the skirt." But the skirt was in the hamper, and I was out of Febreze .

Today I volunteered in the school cafeteria, and I always like seeing what moms pack in their homies' lunches. Maybe the dad or, heaven forbid, your homies pack the lunches in your house. But in our house, it's me, and I hate packing lunches--HATE IT.

I'm always looking for new ideas, and I thought I'd share my top 3 faves from today.

1. fresh blueberries, a bran muffin, yogurt, and string cheese

2. antipasti salad, a roll (homemade, I even asked if it was), and dried apricots

3. turkey wrap, ants on a log, an already PEELED orange (Is that the nicest or what?)

Worst

1. boiled egg and a small container of tuna

Someone in the 4th grade brought the above mentioned combo, and I have one word: pungent. All of the kids around her were fanning their faces and saying, "What is that smell? Did someone die in your lunch bag?" Surprisingly, the girl wasn't embarrassed. She just smeared the raw tuna on a cracker and munched away. I was proud of her bravery.

P.S.

Someday I want explode off my step like the ladies pictured above.

Cheer Hair Flair

Yesterday I busted out twenty bows for my homegurl's cheer squad. The girls on her team squealed and gushed over the bows as I pulled them out of the bag and passed them out. Their reactions rocketed my self esteem to Mars, but I really just made the bows for that sweet girl of mine.

Tomorrow she turns thirteen, and I'm stealing her away from school today so we can do lunch and shop for some skinny jeans (for her, not me). We gals like getting the party started early and such.

I just got back from step class, and I wore this black tennis skirt mi Amor picked out for me during Christmas break. I told him, "I cant wear that sassy skirt. Only the professional steppers wear that kind of attire." He said, "Get the skirt."

We bought the skirt because deep down I want to have moves like Jane Fonda and my step instructor, Lori. She's the very best teacher in AZ, you know.

Anyhoo...Today, I only tripped once, so I think the skirt has magic in it. The only problem is it's too short, like daisy duke short. So during push-ups, lunges, and over back overs, I was flashing my peaches to all my step ladyfriends. I kept shimmying the skirt down, but up it came, over and over again. I need some biker shorts to wear underneath the skirt, so maybe today we'll shop for skinny jeans and some extra long biker shorts.

P.S. The president of Creamies Inc. called today and said, "Please, please, please ask your Arizona grocers to carry Creamies." They would love to be back in our market. He told me that Walmart carried them but recently discontinued selling them. If you love Creamies, tell the manager at your local grocery store.

No Title

I can't think of a title for this post, so I'm calling it "No Title." Maybe this is a sign you should stop reading now. I'm thinking a bunch of nothing is flowing in between these ears of mine.

I should be practicing piano, then reading my scriptures, then taking a shower. But, no. Instead I'm baking in my sweaty squaller and shoveling Muddy Buddies into my mouth.

I think I'm depressed.

I hate when my kids go back to school after a long break. It's times like this that make me think I should homeschool. But then again, maybe not. Last night while I was packing their lunches (Can you believe I gave them Lunchables? Is that even real meat and cheese in there?), I decided to heart attack their lunch boxes. If I can't homeschool, I can at least leave them little remembrances of our two weeks of Christmas joy we spent together. I've even put a picture up to prove how much fun we had.

In all seriousness though, I miss them when they are gone.

That last picture is a plug for eyelashes. If you want to get them done, and you live in AZ, e-mail me at katysuz@gmail.com, and I will give you the hook-up.