A really long, sad, and totally pointless story of a pair of jeans

There are very few things that I'm passionate about and oddly enough, a good pair of jeans is one of them.  So is procrastination, which is another reason for the sudden resurrection of a blog that's been neglected for almost a year.  There's a whole lot to do around here and I needed a good reason to sit at the computer. Besides, this story is too long for a FB status. 

It all started 3 months ago, while on vacation, when I reluctantly followed my husband into his favorite store at the outlet mall in Lincoln City, The Levi Store.  Now, for a chubbified, wide hipped lady like myself, Levi's have never really been my thing.  Or so I thought.  Once in the store, I couldn't help but run my hands along the racks of denim, whilst day dreaming of the day that I could in fact take a pair of Levi's off the shelf and actually wear them.  This seemed like a semi-realistic goal at the time since I was nearing the third week of  a pretty diligent and effective feeling exercise routine.  I got a little cocky at this point and thought, what the heck, I should just try on  a pair and see how close I am to my "one size smaller" goal (I don't dream big around here).  So, after perusing the racks and shelves, I noticed a section advertising the "Curve ID" styles and grabbed a pair expecting a good laugh.  I joined my kids and my husband in the largest dressing room they had and managed to quickly try them on while yelling at Carson to stop climbing under the door.  To my surprise, the fit was amazing.  I stared in shock as I realized that these were the best jeans I had tried on in years.  Seriously, years.  Like more than 10.  And then the laugh came as I glanced at the price tag.  Now, to some people $70 for a pair of jeans is probably normal but to a mom of three, on vacation, I just couldn't justify it.  I hadn't paid that much for jeans since before I was married, which is probably why I hadn't found a pair I loved in that long.  Jason agreed that they were a pretty excellent pair of jeans which started the panic and dread as I realized they weren't coming home with me. It was the beginning of summer, mid vacation, I was still hoping to be 'one size smaller' by the time the weather cooled enough to wear jeans and they were $70.  No matter what Jason said, I couldn't do it.  We left the store.

We went back a few days later.  I tried them on again.  Still in love.  At this point, I decided my best move was to note the style, size, etc. of the miracle made of denim, and move on.  I stole the tag off the pair and asked the ladies at the register to write down all the info I would need in case we suddenly fell into a large pool of money any time in the future, I even asked what stores might carry them locally, just in case.  I subscribed to emails through Levis.com and hoped for a killer sale.  Which brings us to today.  Jean weather is upon us and I'm loving it.  Knee high socks, a pair of boots, jeans and a sweater are my comfort clothes.  And in my inbox?  An email advertising 30% of Levi's, online only.  Now, I'm no where near having $70 for a pair of jeans but I enjoy torturing myself and I'm in currently a practicing procrastinator, so I decided to check out the selection on line just to see.  I was overwhelmed with all the style choices.  I couldn't remember exactly what pair it was that I loved.  Was it the slight curve or bold curve?  Were they actually a number? Maybe 512's or  518's?  Everything sounded vaguely familiar so I went in search of the stolen tag and hand written information and found nothing.  I have nothing.  Which won't surprise anyone that knows me since I loose 3-4 debit cards a year, and may or may not be currently missing my driver's license.  I'm so depressed.  I have no information on the pair of jeans I can't afford to buy and probably don't even fit into anymore since the exercising ended the same week vacation started.  And I'm depressed. 

I think the only thing that can cure me is showering, getting a sitter, and driving to the mall, to search through stores I never shop in, to search for a pair of jeans that I remember very little about and can't afford right now (that the ladies said may not be available in any stores here), just to see if I can find them again.  Then I'd top of the frustration of  moneyless shopping, and depression of maybe finding them, maybe not, with an over priced, over fattening treat of some sort, just to make myself feel better. 

Just because I love good jeans that much.  Anyone want to go with me?

Our First October

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays to decorate for, thanks to my mom.  I remember as a kid coming home from school and finding our house transformed by simple Halloween decorations.  Anyone remember the jack-o-lanterns with the black fuzzy faces?  And the witches that were hinged with brads?  I have a really cruddy memory when it comes to my childhood but I remember the vignettes she created on the end tables and the things she stuck on the huge, funky 1970's mirror that hung in the dining room (like the fuzzy faced pumpkins). 

I love bringing the colors of the seasons inside.  It's a fun way for me to try out a lot of color combinations through out the year since I have a problem with loving too many styles/colors to ever permanently settle on just one.  Just another reason the white walls will stay for a bit longer.  I've been putting off posting these since I had some projects to complete and some other area's of the house I wanted to photograph but I figured since there's only a couple more days left in October, I better just post what I have!

(I just tried out the new photo viewer in Blogger when you click to enlarge a photo while reading, pretty snazzy.  You should try it if you haven't, just don't pay too much attention to all the out of focus pictures.)

And if you're still with me, here's the front porch...

The Closed Door

 I wrote this a few days after my Grandma Goude passed away last October.

As I stand at my kitchen sink, I look across the driveway to Grandma's house. I've looked out that window for almost 7 years. I watched her porch light come on every night and turn off every morning.  I watched her tend her yard, hang up holiday decorations, and come and go with her friends.  I knew when she had appointments and when she went out of town.

We talked to each other daily, whether it was a phone call to borrow something, to send the kids back and forth or to update each other on sometimes very small and random things.  We called each other when something interesting was on the news, or when the sound of sirens seemed a little too close to home.  She called around to find me when the weather and the roads were getting bad, or when she thought I was out later than I should have been.  

She came over when I heard scary noises, when I had a spider that needed to be killed, or when one of the kids was asleep and I needed to go somewhere. Our summers were spent outside watching the birds, the kids, and the neighbors. Her yard was a constant spot of entertainment for everyone.  She bought sprinklers for them to run through, popsicles for them to eat, and never minded her grass being littered with their toys.  

She told stories of her life, she always loved to compare how things were when she was a young wife, or a mother.  She loved to tell me when she thought modern day medicine was wrong. 

Her home was an extension of our home to my kids.  She was a daily part of their lives.  Any time she noticed us leaving she would come out on her porch to tell them goodbye and she would greet them when we came home.  She would tell Spencer goodbye in the morning before school and never turned him away when he went straight from the car to her house when he got home.  Spencer learned his phone number early after calling me to ask "Mom, can I stay for dinner?  Grandma said I could,"  or "Mom, can I come to grandma's on Friday night to watch a show?"  or "Mom, grandma said I can go with her, can I?"  Most days she would walk over at least once, just to see what we were up to.  I could always tell it was her from the long, quiet pause after the door open and shut, as she walked down the hall, often tisking at the amount of laundry piled up.  She would stop on her way in or out and knock on the kitchen window to surprise the kids or to blow more kisses.  Being as short as she was, she barely cleared the bottom of the window!  

During her visits she would sing them songs, or tell me the funny things they had said or done at her house.  She would watch them play or read to them as they climbed all over her lap.  She almost always left with one of them in tow.   Over the years of being her neighbor, countless meals were shared.  Most were at her house but a fair share were at mine.  She would come over teach me how to cook something new and would entertain the kids as I finished dinner.  I was a better cook because she lived next door and I loved making things that she was impressed by.  This last spring when she hadn't been feeling well, I invited her over as often as I could for dinner.  During those last few weeks of her feeling well enough to come over she taught me how to make her meatloaf.  One night I tried a new recipe, cauliflower mashed potatoes, and she was so impressed.   She had become such a big part of our routine that Sophie would get upset when someone sat in "Grandma's chair."

My children learned a lot from Grandma.  They all learned their animal noises, silly songs and nursery rhymes from her countless hours of reading and singing to them.  Spencer learned to chew on the inside of his lip just like she did, and Sophie learned about make-up, particularly 'lips'.  She taught them to smash bugs and watch for the birds going to bed.  She taught Spencer about jet streams and always made me laugh when she told me she thought that more than one jet stream in the air at a time meant that the skies above the Tri-Cities were being heavily monitored.  She celebrated their achievements like they were the first kids to ever accomplish such things.  She coddled them when they cried, rescued them from their mean mom, and spoiled them rotten. 

I learned that she was afraid of nothing- strangers, expired food, skunks, the dark, confrontation, spiders- There was only one thing she seemed to to be afraid of- Leaving us.

Grandma was never one to bite her tongue.  She had strong opinions and was not afraid to let you know it.  I was a better housekeeper, cook, and mother, just to avoid her comments and criticism!  She was convinced that I never fed my children and that I was always on the phone.  I learned to laugh it off, after I called and complained to Rachael or my mom.  In the end though, I knew she worried about me, watched out for me, and loved me.

Now as I stand at my kitchen window, I realize that the light is always on and the door is always closed.  I miss seeing her check her thermometer, take out her garbage, or sit on the porch waiting for her friends to pick her up.  I miss hearing the sound of the red Geo pull in and out of the driveway.  I miss seeing her sitting in the afternoons in her chair, silently inviting my children over for a visit. 

I miss seeing her open door.

Molly

It all started when we got home last Wednesday and found a note on our front door that said, "Put your healer in your backyard.  Both gates were open.  Laurie, Dr. Doo"  (there's a local company that scoops the poop for you called Dr. Doo).

Sure enough, when we went to the back door, there was a pup there, who didn't belong to us.  

He was extremely timid and cowered most of the time he was here in the corner.  He didn't seem to mind the kids petting him but was super skittish.  We talked about keeping him if we couldn't find his owners but he wasn't really my kind of dog (for one he had a docked tail and even Spencer agreed that he wanted a dog with a tail).  However, Jason and Spencer have been wanting a dog for so long that it was like Christmas morning for them.  When we got up  the next morning, we realized that Dr. Doo had not securely shut the gates and Charlie, as my kids had named him, had escaped sometime during the night.  Left with a bag of food and a box of dog treats, Jason (without me knowing) started scouring the internet for local dogs to adopt.  Thursday night he came home and showed me what he determined to be the prettiest dog.  She was pretty but I made the mistake of scrolling further down the page and found a dog I was instantly drawn to...

Molly was described as a 3.5 year old super happy yellow lab/rottweiler mix who was house, crate, and leashed trained.  She sounded perfect to me.  Her family was moving and couldn't take her with them.

By Friday we had an appointment to meet her on Tuesday (through Out West Pet Rescue in Prosser).  On Tuesday, we brought her home.

My desire to get a dog was never as strong as Jason and Spencer's simply because I didn't want a puppy and I didn't think there was much of a chance we'd ever find a young, already trained dog.  Three days later and I can't believe how lucky we are.

She's adjusting quicker than I thought she would, especially after finding out that she came from a 6 acre farm where she had 11 other dogs for companions.  She's a little high maintenance in her eating habits (she's not liking her dog food and has been wanting table scraps) but after talking to her previous owner's this morning, I think we'll get it figured out in a day or two.

We're loving her a ton and patiently waiting for her to love her new home.

Per Your Request

I've had some requests lately for pictures from my last two celebrations.  I'm too lazy to edit them and make them all pretty and glowy and I'm probably going to be too lazy to really document anything about them.  But hey, most of you just look at pictures anyways.  One day, when I'm not too lazy to edit them and make them all pretty and glowy, I'm going to start a new blog that will feature all my knock-off ideas. One that will have tagged pictures and be Googleable.  But it will have to wait for a day when I'm feeling a tad more confident and ambitious than I am now....

So, without further ado, here's more pictures than you could ever hope to be forced to look at.  Sorry for making them individual, it's just easier for the two people who may want to re-post them.


I've intentionally omitted all pictures with people in them since this is not a post intended for journaling.  So if you were at either celebration, please don't fret over not making the cut. 


Mickey Mouse Birthday Party...

 Cupcakes made by Rachael...

 Cake made by Mallary...

 Photos taken by Lisa...

Vintage Birthday (some pictures are a little cut off due to size, please excuse them)...

 There's a lot I would change about this gathering if I could.  Like adding lemon slices to the vases...

 Cake by Mallary (sorry about the crappy lighting, the settings on my camera were wonky and I'm too lazy to edit)...

 I would have blown up the balloons more so they didn't have the stupid dark spot on the bottom...

I wish I would have taken pictures with the plates on the table and I wish I would have added doilies underneath them (they were clear plastic plates)...

 I hung these up at the last minute and by myself so I didn't notice the wonky spacing until I looked at the pictures...dang it...

 Best. Cake. Ever.  My mouth is watering remembering the goodness...

It was fun to try out new ideas with both parties.  There's a lot of things I loved enough to do again and some definite tweaking or adding before I throw another party.  I'm also going to start expanding my guest list now that I have a better feel for how many people I can comfortably accommodate.  I will accept monetary bribery to be added to the guest list.

Fulfilling a Saying

I recently became addicted to Pinterest.  I recently read a saying on Pinterest, "Good mothers have sticky floors, dirty ovens, and happy children."  I lived this today.  But in all honesty, for it to be completely accurate, it would need to say "dirty houses" not just ovens.

Thanks again to Pinterest for the activity idea.  The girls worked on their road map...

 while the boys put together $1 wooden vehicle kits from Michaels...

 I wish I remember what was being said here between the two girls, especially with the looks I caught on Sophie's face...

 Not sure what the deal is with Aubrey's E.T. finger...

 It was cool to see what kinds of areas each group of kids wanted drawn.  The girls wanted the ocean/beach, the beach house, tree's, a park and lots of roads.

 I'm super sad I didn't get better pictures of the boys' map.  They were very specific in the details of theirs.  First was the ocean/beach, then an airport, followed by a police station, fire station, a market "by the beach so when people were at the beach they could go buy stuff", a fruit stand, a helicopter pad, a park with a swing, a space station/launching pad, a hospital and palm trees.  Lots of palm trees.  They later had me add an island.

 The best part was when Colton painted a shark, complete with bloodied mouth, followed by a piranha.  That's Spencer's boat in the water, I never got pictures of Trenton helicopter or Colton's airplane. 

He also painted a dead guy (black stick figure with red blood) right outside the Fire Station.  Classic boy stuff.

Random Things I want to Remember about Today:

*The three extra kids didn't want to stay until they knew exactly what the project was.  Once I told them, they didn't hesitate to stay while Rachael went to the store.
*The boys did awesome putting together the vehicles by themselves.  Except Colton.  His was even a little tricky for me.
*Nothing gets them excited more than getting to use the glue gun.
*They were very impressed with my ability to draw a house that looked "just like our beach house!"
*That the first things they all wanted were oceans, beaches, and beach houses on their maps.
*That they were almost devastated by my lack of paints.  I need to replenish them soon.
*Their amazement over the fact that I could mix paint colors, especially when they needed brown.
*Colton's obsession with palm tree's with coconuts.  It was the first thing he painted.
*The boys' pre-planning meeting while I drew the girls' map.
*How much the girls, or really just Aubrey, played with their maps when they were dry.
*Sophie wanting to take it with her to my moms, after she made Jason close his eyes and taped it to the wall for him to look at.
*The teamwork and conversations and the fact that they're finally old enough to actually finish big projects.

I love that today I had sticky floors, a dirty house, and creative and happy children.