Do you want her autograph?

Well friends,
There's much to be smiling about today at the Flegal house. The incessant cough that has plagued my daughter's slumber has subsided. Henry's health has remained strong and intact amidst the constant outbursts of phlegm produced by his big sister and yours truly. Likewise, Andrew's immune system has once again proven to be solid and steadfast.

Thank the heavens above for healthy bodies and answered prayers.

(A very sick girl, forces a smile per my request)

Last week, the only outings Eliza took was to the Doctor's office. After three consistent days of fever and an increasingly ugly cough, Dr. Martial Arts/Lawyer/Pediatrician finally put her on an antibiotic. As her fever dissipated, her cough intensified. Night after night, I watched helplessly as her little body was racked by the cough. In my bed, I'd cringe for the hour or so it took her to fall back asleep; the stress culminating as the long minutes passed. I hated the feeling of not being able to ease her ailment. I could offer her water, tylenol (when needed) and rub her back.

During one rough patch, I sat on her bed and offered to say a prayer. After we said, "Amen." Eliza looked at me and said with a smile,

"Mom. You look so silly right now!" I'm glad her spirits were up!

Feeling there had to be more I could do for her, I spent the following morning scouring the Internet for tried and true home remedies that are safe for three yearolds. I reached out to my facebook friends for tips (a teaspoon of honey was a popular suggestion) and spent some quality time with my friend, Mr. Google. With his help, I found a random oddity that seemed promising. The proven suggestion involved rubbing Eliza's feet with vicks vapor rub and then putting a pair of cotton socks on them before bed time. And you know what?

IT WORKED!!!

She slept through the night. Mommy slept through the night. WE ALL SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT! Call me crazy. I figured we had nothing to lose by trying. There wasn't a health risk, so why not? Go ahead and google it. The results may surprise you. Keep in mind, I am not a doctor. Each cough is different, which is why I was skeptical despite the raving reviews I read.

I understand that kids (and unfortunately Moms) get sick... but OH the timing. While most families are falling into the "back to school" routine, we're getting ready for our summer vacation! The thought of gearing up for a trip out west as I myself am recovering from a random bout of pneumonia seemed overwhelming. Seeing Eliza's progress, I am feeling optimistic. I have to say "Thank you" to the family members who have kept us in their prayers. With that being said...

Dear Utah,

I hope you can handle the amount of cuteness that is headed your way!!

Three cheers for Eliza!! Lately I've noticed an array of letters on her coloring pages. Her personal favorites seemed to be letters: H, I, and O.

I spent a few minutes yesterday teaching her the order of the letters in her name. To my surprise, after completing a work of art this morning, I noticed that she, on her own accord, wrote her name! Each letter was in the correct order. Shock me, shock me, shock me!!
This girl is ready for pre-school. Unfortunately, she had to miss her first two days of class due to her illness. I look forward to immersing ourselves into that new part of her life when we return home.

We'll be participating in a co-op pre-school format. Every five weeks, I'll host the pre-school class at my home for the two days that week. I'll rotate as the Teacher and serve as the Lead Mom's helper. There will be some weeks when Henry and I have the time off. I am really looking forward to working with the other Mom's involved. They are super dedicated and share the same level of enthusiasm as me. I hope I can keep up with their creativity! Eliza will love it.

My plate is full as I mentally work on checking off my "To-do" list. Flying with two kids isn't my favorite activity, but I no longer dread the task. Fearing that our coughs may accompany us on our journey, I'm readying a home-made t-shirt that will read:It's true. We don't have it.

MOM!! Can you even stand the excitement?!
Henry can't. Neither can Eliza!

17 again

Last Monday, we quietly celebrated five wonderful years of marriage.

August 17, 2009
Five year wedding anniversary

After taking Eliza and Henry to the Doctor's office, Andrew surprised me with an arrangement of flowers. Dinner was taken care of through the kindness of a friend. I'm confident that it tasted better than anything I could have come up with. Michelle really out did herself with her homemade peach cobbler.

With a clean home, a red box rental and an early bed time for the kids, I have to say that our evening was well spent. We laughed (and I coughed) our way through the movie, 17 again. In keeping with the theme, I've dusted off a few images of Andrew and me that were taken when I was 17 and he was 18. With the exception of this one:

First time we met: August 11, 1998
Neighborhood pool
Ali (age 14) center in blue swim suit
Andrew (age 15) lower right corner, goggles, possibly mute (so I thought) The weekend we fell in love
Memorial Day weekend 2001
Hiking in Southern Utah
Ali age 17, white tank top
Andrew age 18, yellow hat
He's petrified that I'm sitting so close to him. Enlarge photo if you don't believe me.
His hair was a work in progress.
Lake Powell, October 2001My man can still rock the flannel look.
He had a hobby of making bird traps... always lets them go.
We currently have a bird trap in our back yard. March 2002, Senior prom.
I had mono.
My Mom made my dress.
Andrew had his mission call to Frankfurt Germany.

The remaining photos were taken days before he left on his mission: May 2002
And they said I wouldn't wait!

(Eliza's still feeling sick)

Pretty sure, these two are happy things worked out! What's that phrase again? All because two people fell in love.

pneumonia is highly romantic

After five days of consistent yuck, I hauled myself to the local urgent care center yesterday. Twice. Neglecting to take note of the facility's hours, I arrived at 10:30 a.m. and sadly discovered that they didn't open until 1:00 p.m.

I was tested for the flu and swine flu - both tests came back negative (meaning I don't have those illnesses). I have to ask... has anyone else had the unfortunate experience of being tested for the flu? It was a cringe worthy moment that I'd like to avoid experiencing again. For those who don't know, they take a long testing swab and stick up your nose until they reach your brain. Yes, I'm exaggerating. I don't know what the destination was but it stung horribly. I'm looking to commiserate with someone.

The doctor concluded that an acute case of bronchitis has shifted into the early stages of pneumonia. A couple hours later, I made my way to the pharmacy and picked up a z-pack, inhaler, cough suppressant and mucinex. Being sick is expensive! That inhaler is the best thing that ever happened to me. Today was the first morning I woke up feeling an improvement. That's the good news. The bad news is, both of my kids are fevered and coughing.

Andrew, the love of my life, has graciously volunteered to take them to the Doctor's office for me this afternoon. I hope that they're on an antibiotic before their illnesses escalate into something fierce.

Today is our five year wedding anniversary!! It's sad that I won't be able to kiss my husband on our anniversary, right? Although our weekend was not spent wining and dining or dancing and romancing, these unfortunate circumstances validated for the zillionth time that we're a great team. I feel as though Andrew was tailor made for me in every way. I love him. I look back at the years we've spent as man and wife and feel intense gratitude.
It's been hard.
It's been easy.
It's been fun.
It's been challenging.
It's been the best.
It's been scary.
It's been rewarding.
It's been hilarious.

It's been worth it.

Andrew, I love you so much. Thank you for taking me to the temple five years ago and allowing me to be yours forever.

The Power of a Nurturer

I'd been looking forward to this weekend for a long time. The anticipation was high, the discussion of what to do, where to go was frequent and in an effort to help each other out, Andrew and I both made it our business to find the baby sitter. We unknowingly had two young ladies scheduled to come over and watch our kids. Apologetically, we contacted one of them to let them know their services wouldn't be needed after all.

This was the weekend that we'd celebrate our five years of marriage (august 17). We don't splurge on ourselves often, but we felt that we definitely owed it to ourselves to go out on a date. Ask my Mom. I was really, really excited about it. And then, life happened.

I got sick. Like... way sick. For the last four days I've been battling fever, aches, chills and an incessant cough. My innards ache each time I cough. Sleep has been difficult to come by. But despite the physical ailments, it's the fact that my full-time job doesn't offer or provide "sick days" that stresses me out the most. The task of making Oatmeal for my kids in the morning seems daunting.

Telling myself that calling Andrew home is my last ditch effort, I know I can make it on my own until nap time. After nap time passes, a few hours remain until he pulls in the drive way. He might as well work the full day.

I've put off a trip to the Doctors. My thought process is as follows: "Tomorrow I will feel better" or that I'd prefer to see the money I'd spend on a co-pay stay put in our bank account. If it was one of the kids who were sick, absolutely, we'd be at the Doctors; but Mom can tough it out.

Speaking of a "Mom" - I really missed mine this week. Wednesday evening, I gave into a surge of pity as I crawled into bed. Wishing I had the option of calling family to come bail out my kids for the day, I lamented the distance between us. I wanted to see for myself the look of concern on her face and feel the touch of her chin as she lovingly places it on my forehead to see if I'm fevered. Memories of her coming downstairs with a refill of cherry 7-up, her small hand rubbing my aching back and her unfailing knowledge of when I can take my next dose of medicine, filled me.

I was taught how to nurture by the most supreme source. At 25, I long for that source of comfort during difficult days. Grateful for the regular phone calls to check on me, I know that I can fully express my complaints and fears without being judged. I can count on encouraging words and sound advice. When writing openly and publicly, I feel limited at times because I know of several individuals who are dealing with difficulties that I can not fathom. But that supreme nurturer who knows and loves me validates that it's okay to feel frustrated, concerned and fed-up. It's okay to label this moment as being, "hard."

In thinking of what it means to nurture, I've mentally been making a list as I've felt the Lord send tender mercy's my way these last few days. The greatest came in the form of a loving three year old little girl.

Finding me in my room, curled up and on the verge of tears, Eliza climbs into my bed.

"Mom, I am here to sing you a song. It will make you happy." She then proceeds to sing me the ABC's. Telling me that she "loves me so much" and that I have "pretty lips" she pulls my covers up to my chin, strokes my cheek and asks for a hug.

"Goodnight" she says as she closes my bedroom door. "Sweet dreams!" It's 5:00 pm. A few minutes later she returns to my room. With excitement she brings me a doll and a Thomas the train whistle. Without saying a word, she gently tucks them in with me. As she again, expresses her concern and love for me, I silently offer a prayer of gratitude. She has shown a tremendous out pouring of love these last few days. Her ability to nurture is innate.

Waking up to Henry's sweet call for his, "Mama," momentarily takes me away from my grief as I open his door. His smile... oh man, you'd think that right there could cure anything.

Andrew's been great to take the kids out each night for some fresh air. Trips to the park and stops at the store (forget the two week rule!) to pick up cough drops, etc have been regular. Right now, he is with Eliza at a birthday party. Laughing as he left, he felt a little awkward as he imagined that he'd be the only Dad parent there. He was still happy to take her.

Four days into this illness, I've concluded that it's about time we sacrifice our date night money so that I can go and see a Doctor. Maybe I'll do that this afternoon. I've done my best to tough it out, but if there's an anti-biotic that can speed up the recovery process, let me at it!!

Again, I realize that I'm not the only Mom who gets sick. This illness isn't chronic. My kids, so far, have been okay. I have friends who offer to watch my kids. I have a cute mother in law who likewise wishes she could be her to lend a hand. I have a husband willing to pick up my slack and be Mr. Mom for the weekend and I have access to a phone that connects me to my Mom. I have a lot of reasons to be thankful. Speaking of things to be grateful for:

Eliza and her binki have called it quits!! Not a single tear was shed. It's a miracle and Andrew was the miracle worker. That story to come later.

**AN ADDENDUM: Does anyone have any recommendations for a cough suppressant? After making a sticky discovery in my hair this morning, I've concluded that falling asleep with a cough drop in your mouth isn't the safest of ideas. Thanks.

Videos and the Chicken Pox

Because I'm in the business of making and preserving our family's memories; today's post will feature recent videos that capture Henry's verbal expansion, Eliza's desire to be in the lime light and my husband's perfectly chiseled jaw line.

While I'm confident that Andrew's jaw line isn't going anywhere anytime soon; I'm certain that cherished pieces of Eliza + Henry's mannerisms will continue to melt away with maturity.

Alright then, Henry's up first. It is my hope that his deep reverence and appreciation for food will remain intact. With each bite, Henry's quick to offer up a sound of praise and satisfaction.


"Mmmm (pause) Mmm!!" His enthusiastic approval is MUSIC to my heart (and super hilarious).

Last week, he surprised the family as he confidently identified the color of one of Eliza's otter pops. Since then, I've stepped up my, "What color is this?" questioning. He'll cooperate when asked to repeat a word but generally that person, object or color has to be somewhere in sight.

Disregard the monkey you hear chattering in the background of this video.

Andrew was filming Eliza while the monkey in the background was under the impression that we were encouraging her to smile for a photo.

In the video that follows, I realize that this set up looks somewhat staged as we happily sing around the table and color our, "I am a child of God" pictures. All we're lacking is a camp fire, the lyrics of, "Kumbayah" and a little bit of swaying action as we grasp hands.

You're probably gagging a little. But please allow me to give us credit for our consistency of making family night a priority. The lesson and activities are simple, but I can finally say that they are regular. Usually, when blessed with a good idea, I wind up disregarding the 'life enhancing change" because of laziness, distraction or some other ailment.

Henry proves how adorable learning phonics can be.
Andrew's jaw line doesn't look to bad either...

Eliza needs to know that it's her enthusiasm that has kept me motivated in planning these "small and simple" lessons.

Henry's been sick. The above expression captures his mood well. And yes, I realize that he'd benefit from the use of a comb!

He had a reaction from his chicken pox vaccine. 1 out of 25 children who receive the vaccine will in fact develop the rash. Although his case was deemed as mild, he was still rather miserable (comparable to a bad cold). He wasn't bed ridden, he never fevered and appeared to have plenty of energy to play each day (see our 'lake beach' trip and sprinklers adventure).

I thought he was coming down with a cold when I noticed his lethargy and runny nose. When I saw the spots, I knew something more was going on. Before the spots showed up, he was exposed to non-vaccinated children. The risk they catch the disease is slim, I've been assured.

This experience hasn't altered my pro-vaccine status. But certainly, I was upset that a vaccine made my baby sick. I'm not trying to stir up the debate, but if the research I've done proves true, then it's clear that had Henry come in contact with the varicella virus the "old fashioned" way, he would have been horribly ill. His 'mild' case would have been full fledged and ugly.

He's on the mend, and his faint spots were gone within two - three days. They were primarily located on his upper thighs; his face, arms and trunk were spot free. Looking at my daughter, I have to say I'm grateful that she will be spared the harshness of the illness as she is protected because of her own vaccine.

The end.

Beat the Heat

The box sits empty in the pantry. Silently, it mocks us. The freezer looks barren and bland; as her eyes long for the colorful appeal of an otter pop. Despite having drained the last two herself, Eliza begs for another.

"Mom!?" With an expression of empathy, I shake my head before she finishes her plea.

"Can I please have a Popsicle?" Her incessant pleading nearly pushes me past my limits. Quick. I need a diversion to get us through until next Tuesday's (Day 14) trip to the store.

The solution... a batch of homemade cookies.

After enjoying a few cookies out of the oven, I put the rest in a freezer lock bag. We're living on rations :) I almost caved for a box of otter pops. You would think my determination to avoid the store would waver for a box of diapers, chocolate or a stick of deodorant.

I would have felt silly had I made that special trip for otter pops! What would have merited a quick trip for you?

Our addiction to otter pops is seasonal. Andrew, the Father of our home, is also the Father of the problem. He loves them! Henry and I will casually share a pop on occasion, but for Eliza and Andrew, a pile of pops = a pile of happiness. They've been known to watch a lightening storm in the late evening together on the front porch. With Eliza on one knee and a pile of otter pops on his other, they bond.

It's hot in the South. We're utilizing our community pool regularly but felt the need to change things up a bit this weekend. The credit for our weekend's success goes to Andrew. Friday night, he had the idea of setting up the slip and slide.
With two neighbor friends (not pictured), Eliza and Henry cooled off with the help of our sprinkler. Daddy enjoyed spraying off our little grass monsters before I transported them to the bath tub. Despite his best efforts, there was plenty of grass swimming with them in the tub.

Saturday morning we made a return visit to the "Lake Beach" (as Eliza calls it). Calling up the family in our Ward, I asked if it would be okay if we came out for the morning."Call as many people as you can think of. Make it a potluck" She said. Her enthusiasm squashed the awkwardness one might feel from inviting yourself over. Truly, their property is amazing and they are thrilled to see others enjoy it. In fact, she had forgotten that another family from our ward was planning to come over for a birthday party. We considered ourselves the welcoming party when the familiar faces started to arrive! Did i mention that the happy news of the Blaser's return? Despite having spent a week delving into various water activities, they accepted our invite to go to the lake. We stuck around longer than planned to visit with the newly arrived party goers (all of whom were friends from Church). After a final swim, we knew it was time to take the kids home for a nap. While backing out of their driveway, Henry fell asleep. Eliza wasn't far behind him.

Sunday afternoon passed by s. l. o. w. l. y. Yesterday was a bit painful, actually. It was hot and the afternoon felt long. The thought of going for a walk made my make-up melt. The desire to jump in the car and head over to Grandma's house always intensifies on Sunday and yesterday was no exception.

Andrew saved the day (again) when he pulled out a massive sized moving box and transformed it into a house for the kids. He made a swinging door and cut out a window. The kids will be enjoying his creation for days. His creativity continued with the impromptu development of a home made "slush" (crystal lite, blended ice, a smidge of sugar).
Eliza went bananas when he presented her with the iced treat. Her mouth is still dyed red. She devoured her glass to the point that her teeth were chattering. Wrapping herself in a blanket she demanded that I warm her up.

Still, I'm feeling in "need" of a vacation. More accurately, the desire I have to see family is at an all time high. I can't wait for Eliza and Henry to become re-acquainted with their cousins. I'm trying to tell myself to enjoy the anticipation because I know that once we're in Utah, the time will pass by too quickly! Thankful for having a good weekend, my attention now shifts to Tuesday's shopping trip (exciting, right?).

Lean on me

Monday morning I called Michelle to see what her plans were for the day. I'm kind of stalkerish like that. Correct me if I'm wrong (Michelle), but I'm pretty sure she likes the attention. At least that's what I'd always assumed; until I made the sad realization that she hadn't called me back.

Tuesday morning, I called again to let her know that we were headed to story time.

(At story time, Eliza holds Henry's hand as he makes the transition from Mommy's lap to the floor)

Thinking that maybe a day a part was all she needed before wanting to see my beaming face again; I invited her, via her answering machine, to meet us there. I confess that a part of my motivation for seeing her was a little shallow.

It was the first time I'd gone "curly" with the new cut and I was feeling that it was (excuse the pride) a smashing success because it had taken less than a minute to achieve the look I was going for. Having retired my Pippy Long Stocking Mom look, I was feeling better about myself.

I was looking for a friend to praise my efforts. That's what happens when you no longer live next door to your Mom. However, I won't deny allegations of having e-mailed my Mom pictures of my hair cut followed by a phone call to hear desired praise (it always sounds best coming from her!). But that's beside the point.

Isn't it true that if you have a new hair cut and you're in the process of adjusting to it, you might benefit from a little positive reinforcement? Especially if the first thing your daughter tells you after styling your hair that morning is,

"Mom! Your hair looks silly!"

Wondering where a Mom of three small children had been spending her mornings after Tuesday's call went unanswered; I decided I'd be extra annoying and call her cell phone. After the beep, I left her a message.

"Hi Michelle." (pause)

"Are you trying to break up with me?"

"I hope no one's in the hospital?"

"Okay. Call me. Bye."

I'm totally the attention deprived, obsessive girlfriend. I can't fall back on the excuse of getting our kids together for the sake of Eliza's mental health as her imaginary friends haven't been over to play in awhile. Maybe it's because Eliza had been a little over bearing? Hoping you can feel the sarcasm, I have to say that I can't imagine who she would have adopted that trait from!?

Maybe Dora, Diego, Boots & Alicia couldn't handle that much personality.

Despite their absence, the kids and I had a great time at the library. Eliza and Henry really are the best, most loving, always forgiving, incredibly fun, imaginative and humorous friends I have. They're high maintenance, yes, but I feel so LUCKY to be able to spend my days with them.

Coming home, my caller ID happily informed me that I had missed call from Michelle's cell phone. Her vacation, that I thought was next week... is actually this week. Awesome. She does like me. She likes me so much, in fact, that she had been thinking about picking up Eliza a Disney princess dress that she had seen on clearance while out on a shopping excursion.

Considering she has three young boys; it's sweet that it was Eliza's face that came to mind when she saw the lovely frocks. The news cheered me, despite the fact that my social calendar would be bleak for the remainder of the week.

Determined to enjoy ourselves, the kids and I left the house early the next day to spend the morning at Monkey Joes (half price on Wednesday). Henry fully grasped the wonderland that is Monkey Joes. Henry struggled to maintain balance on his feet. That didn't phase his good mood. He'd lay motionless on the floor of the bounce house laughing hysterically from a previous wipe out as he happily awaited Mom's rescue.

I also had the privilege of toting his tiny 20 pound bum up the stairs of the massive inflatable slide. Each time I'd scale the stairs, I vowed that would be our last trip up before taking a break. However, after hearing his squeals of laughter on the way down, I'd soon make the repeat trip.As for today, the presence of a cloudy sky has temporarily squashed my plans of taking the kids swimming. It looks as though I'll be giving my home additional attention. The laundry room is a blast. I can't wait to spend time in there.

Eliza just leaned over and asked,

"Hey Mom, what's that smell?"

It looks like a shower just made the agenda as well. The good news it tomorrow's Friday and the responsibility for entertaining the family shifts over to my manchilada. And don't think that he's off the hook because he has to prepare a 20 minute talk for Church on Sunday. :)

Promising myself to never blog this late at night again

I had "plans" to blog about a lame discovery that I made last night that involved syrup and stainless steel appliances; but as I just mentioned... the idea was (and still is) lame.

To be honest, it's way too late to be writing. I should have heeded the call of a loving husband and followed him to bed at a decent hour but I, unfortunately, became enveloped in a prime time special that documented the lives of children who suffer from O.C.D.

A part of me was completely mystified as I listened to the unique details of their disorder; while the part of me that hates touching Popsicle sticks completely empathized. In no way am I belittling their situation or elevating my strange mannerisms to their level, but I've definitely experienced moments of anxiety where I felt that my worry would consume me. These poor people can't escape their fear and are asked to confront it as they struggle to cope. I ache for them.

I'm a worrier by nature. Parenthood has only exacerbated that particular trait. Last night, despite the fact that I was tired, I struggled to fall asleep as I worried for the millionth time over our upcoming trip to Lake Powell. I'm beyond ready to spend time with family. I know that Eliza and Henry will be thrilled to interact with the Taylor-tot cousins, grandparents, etc...But I can't seem to smother the anxiety of the "What-if' scenarios.

This is an understandable parental worry, not an irrational one, right? It depends on who you ask, I suppose. I don't have much Lake Powell experience. The last time I went to Lake Powell was when Andrew and I were dating. I was a senior in high school and boy was I smitten. He didn't know I'd been given the green light from the musical director (who nearly owned my soul that year) to miss practice. I tagged along with his brother Mike and made my way to the Lake a day behind him. Andrew pulled up to the marina and stared in disbelief as I quickly made my way into his waiting arms. The surprise was ridiculously romantic.

The greatest fear I had back then was allowing Andrew to see my face without make-up. His sister (Hi Katie!) would call me out the second I put mascara on. You might have called me shallow; you might have called me insecure... I'd have called it both.

"YOU DON'T BRING MASCARA TO LAKE POWELL" or "MAKE UP IS NOT ALLOWED AT THE LAKE" She'd say in front of everyone; trying to cement the rule into my brain.

I remember hiding in my tent with my little hand held mirror; shaking with guilt as I applied it. Accidentally, I'd smudge the wand onto my cheek. Whispering the Mormon version of an expletive, I tried to rub off the waterproof mark with my saliva...

Oh wait. That's weird. Did I just side track again?

Not feeling that I've evolved much since then, I am now responsible for the well being of two children. I take my job of keeping them out of harm's way seriously. Still, that didn't prevent Henry from slipping in the tub and chipping his front tooth last night. His gum bled for a long while after his fall. I felt terrible as I re-wiped the dried blood off his chin this morning. I tried to focus on the gratitude I felt that his teeth were still in tact.

My point is, that no matter how vigilant a person you are, accidents happen. Bad things happen to awesome people every day. You know that. I'm not saying anything you already don't know. I hope you don't feel patronized. It's so late. I'm sorry.

I'm learning that my attitude totally reflects the influences I allow in. I recognize at this late hour, that it's up to me to spend time in good places, with good people , reading things that uplift and inspire rather than things that spread fear and angst because I'm easily affected. The good news is that I'm easily affected by what's good. I'm moved and compelled to act on things that are right when I'm spending time in the right places.

I commit to doing a better job so that my husband feels that he married someone slightly normal and that the children are in the presence of a Mom who radiates something other than fear and concern. They know I love and adore them, that I'm sure of.

As for Lake Powell, I suppose it's about feeling prepared. If you have any advice (other than to sleep at a hotel - that option is unfortunately OUT) please share. And ladies, does your make-up bag make the trip with you?

Oh No I Didn't

Here I sit, ripping my (short) hair out.

Finally committed to simplifying the look of my blog, I began transferring my 72 person blog roll into a different gadget smadget thing.

I went to save the massive list and was told to wait. In disbelief I discovered that an 'error' (oops says blogger) occurred and BOOM! All my work (and links!) were gone. Bear with me as I try and piece this blog back together.

Leave your name and blog address if your family's blog doesn't reappear.

*An addendum:

False alarm. My list reappeared. *phew* The new blog roll list displays the 25 most recently updated blogs that we check. If you don't see your name then you better update that awesome blog of yours!

About that hair cut

The before:

(This picture belongs in a frame. I am so in love with this girl)

The After(s)
Henry and I assumed this position for the duration of "signing time" this afternoon. He took his precious time waking up from his nap.I didn't mind being his support system.

Friday night the Blaser's had us over for a 'camp fire' (as Eliza would say). Michelle made pizza, placed it in a cast iron thinger (description courtesy of Andrew) and then popped it in the fire to bake. The kids enjoyed the play ground as I talked "hair makeovers" with my lady friends.
For someone who is as emotionally high strung as me, I thought I'd feel more of a shock as I watched my hair fall to the ground. Clearly, this cut was over due. I felt pure excitement. My hair is incredibly thick and the weight of it often left me with a headache (hence the braids). The heat and humidity made the blanket of hair incredibly burdensome. Thus, my decision to bid farewell to my long thick locks was rather easy.

How often do you make it to a hair salon? The last time I had a trim was February (awful, I know!). Is that, like, totally disgusting?

I lost five pounds!

(not a dead dog just a pile of my hair)

Well at least it feels like I did!