pink nostalgia

weatherford: the laundry room

I only know one person who actually likes to do laundry (and it's surprisingly not me).  So I like to help myself out by making the laundry room funner than the average bear.

This was our laundry room when we moved in.

Nice but neutral...ehh. 

After we moved in, J painted the laundry room for me.  It was a very light aqua that I picked.  I never meshed with it once it was on the walls.  I don't have any pics of it because, well, I didn't really like it.  But to change it (again), I had to work up the courage to ask J.

me: So...I've been thinking of painting the laundry room.
him: What, the cabinets?  [He knew this was on my wish list.]
me: Yeah.
him: Oh, okay.  Cool.  I thought you were going to say you wanted to repaint the walls!
me: Well, yes, that too.

Lori asked me what color I was painting, and J mouthed off, "The same color as before!"

left: Behr Teal Ice
right: Behr Jamaica Bay

Really, Wells??

After one week and a lot of ladder work...

SO MUCH BETTER.

White cabinets make me happy.  : )

I really wanted to reuse these knobs from Anthropology.  I bought them for a little dresser that served as a TV stand in the apartment.  Now the dresser is in Alex's room, so I gave him the normal silver, less girly knobs.  The cabinets in the laundry room our whole house don't have hardware, which means that I drilled these babies in myself!  Blam!

And now I can do laundry again.  : )

throwback thursday: a side effect of reading

Sometimes it melts my heart.

J and Alex at J's old house, summer 2013.

J and Alex at our new house, winter 2013.

how to: motorcycle birthday cake

For the last MONTH, I've been asking J what kind of birthday cake he wanted.  Since Alex requested an army tank and Ethen requested a baseball stadium, I thought for sure J would want something outlandish.  Here's what he said:

"White cake with cream cheese icing."

Uhhhhh...

I told that story to the family on Saturday and J joked, "Well, I change hobbies about every week, so it was hard to decide what to ask for!"  I said, "Right!  I was going to make a drum set since he's playing with this new band, but then two days ago he bought a new bike, so then I had to change the cake!"

It IS a cool bike, though.

What were we talking about?  Oh right, cake.

J didn't know I was doing anything special for the cake until he walked into the kitchen an hour before the party when he was supposed to be quarantined outside.

Photo compliments of J.

A few tips that Mom and I discovered while laughing so we don't cry:

- Get your mom to help you!  Take turns saying, "How am I supposed to make a radiator/brake caliper/rear view mirror??"

- Don't use cream cheese icing!  Even at room temperature, it melts and puddles!  If your man requests it, try putting it in the fridge for a few hours before you work with it.  I know fondant is the bakers' choice, but none of us want to eat it.  We prefer taste over professionalism.  Strictly amateur hour up in here.  : )

- Silver bakers' spray paint works really well.  I sprayed the whole bike and wheels after Mom iced the cake with white cream cheese icing and before I added any of the black icing and gel.  But then don't touch it!  It wipes off of your icing really easily.

- Spray silver paint over aluminum foil so that you can't see the excess paint.

- If you're STILL not sure that your motorcyle looks like a motorcycle, label it!

- I would be disappointed in this cake if I wasn't laughing at it.  But J loved it.  He told me that he really appreciated it which was evidenced by his infamous smile.  Ethen even paid me a compliment with, "I can tell it's a motorcycle!"  And everyone loved eating it.  : )  So this tip is: It truly is the thought that counts, so go for it!  But just in case, razzle dazzle them with silver spray paint!

how to: break room cafe mocha

Perfect for Monday morning!

So you're in your oppressive florescently-lit office facing another. whole. day.  Or maybe you're at home knowing you should put on real clothes because it's a weekday, but honestly...why??

You really want need something indulgent to perk you up and get you excited about staring at a computer, answering phones, listening to the kiddos scream all day, or operating a forklift.  Starbucks sounds good, but you can't (or won't) make that happen.

I got this idea partly from a coworker as I watched her squirt liquid creamer into her coffee.  I joked with her that I lost count at eight shots.  She defeatedly replied, "I use ten."

Enter: break room cafe mocha.  Aka pantry mocha.

NOTE: Pecan praline is not included.

Into your 8 oz. styrofoam cup:

- about 1" of coffee

- one packet of hot chocolate

- two packets of sugar

- two shots of liquid creamer

- and fill the rest of your cup up with hot water

And there you go!  A jury-rigged pick-me-up for practically free!

how to: get your girl out of her funk

This post is for men (which is very funny because I can only think of two men who read my blog, and neither one is Jason).

Nevertheless...

So your girlfriend/wife/daughter comes home in a funk.  She's says she's feeling wonky and doesn't know what caused it, but that it's not you.  The fact that she's still talking to you means she's telling the truth (compared to the "I'm fine" answer followed by stonewalling.  In that case, it IS you). 

But what do you do?  How can you help?

1. Hug her.  A really good, sincere hug for at least six seconds, and don't break away until she does, especially if she starts crying.  If she starts crying, it's because she's figured out what's bothering her, and then you have to listen until she's done.  Sorry, but you're in it now!

2. Buy her something small but thoughtful that only she likes, like grape tomatoes, Post-its, or a brand new pack of white flour-sack dishtowels.  It can't be something that you've been saying you need (trash bags) or something that you will also benefit from (ice cream).  It CAN be from the grocery store/Target/Dollar General.  And since it's about her and not about you, don't make a big deal about it.  I mean, don't chuck it at her, but just tell her you saw it and thought of her.

3. Buy her flowers.  Again, it doesn't have to be extravagent.  Grocery store flowers are fine.  For extra points, make up a reason why you picked them (the buds were still closed so they'll last longer, pink goes great with your eyes).  Never buy flowers in lieu of or in conjunction with an apology.  Every time she sees them, she'll think of the reason you had to apologize, which will make her want to shove the flowers down the garbage disposal.

4. Give her an hour or two to soak up some sun.  Suggest the pool, the lake, the backyard.  You don't have to go with her.  In fact, don't go with her.  Set out her headphones, mp3 player, and bottled water while she changes.  Don't text her while she's gone because she's probably thisclose to snoozing.  Rub aloe on her back when she gets home.

5. Ask her about the scrapbooking page she's working on.  If she answers half-heartedly, keep asking relevant questions (I know, but just do your best) until she starts babbling.  Smile to yourself and take your exit when she starts working on a page.  NOTE: If your girl doesn't scrapbook, do not ask her about scrapbooking.  Substitute scrapbooking with her biggest hobby.  The point is to be interested in what she's interested in and to remind her that she has a really fun thing she could be doing (i.e. scrapbooking). 

6. Chocolate.

7. Do yoga with her.  Funks tend to make you want to curl up on the couch with a whole pot of chili and just...sit.  Even if she works out regularly, she probably will not want to exercise to bust through the rut.  But yoga is exercise and will make her feel productive, and it isn't something you have to get pumped up for.  You might be thinking, "But I can't do yoga!"  Perfect!  Yoga is always one bent leg away from uproarious laughter.  Ask her if you're doing it right.  She'll look over and fall out of Warrior III laughing.  Don't get mad that she's laughing at you - your plan is working.  Throw in some commentary to keep her going.  Then continue doing your best it wrong. 

8. Pray with her. It doesn't have to be long or eloquent. Hold her hands. Just thank God for this wonderful woman He put in your life and that it's a privilege to be next to her through ups, downs, and funks. If she starts crying, see #1.

9. Ask her to help you with a problem you're having.  Her funk is likely due to something that she can't quite put her finger on.  So she can't solve her problem, but women are empathetic by nature, so she'll still want to solve yours.  Plus it will bust away some of the feeling of worthlessness that looms through funks.  The problem cannot be about her (as in: How do I get you to stop nagging me?) but it CAN be minor or made up!

10. Retell that story that makes you laugh uncontrollably.  Seeing you gasp for breath laughing will make her laugh.  If it's a story she hasn't heard yet, she'll be glad you're sharing with her.  If it's a story she was there for, she'll be glad to relive it.  Use hand gestures and get out of your chair for re-enactments if possible.

Bonus! 11. Let her pick dinner.  Because her core-funk-desire is to sit on the couch with a whole pot of chili, she does not want to suffer the tedium of cooking dinner (but beware, there ARE a few women who like to cook as an escape).  (Sidebar: She also doesn't want to work in the flowerbeds like y'all had planned.)  So offer to go out, and then agree when she suggests Wing Stop.  You don't get to counter with your first choice.  It doesn't matter what you had for lunch.  If she tries to be polite and refers to the at-home dinner y'all had planned or suggests one of your fave places, insist she gets her first choice.

As women, we know we can be difficult.  We often snicker about it.  But it's frustrating for us when WE don't even know what we need, so we know it's confusing to you.  Any effort is appreciated.  Panicking and leaving her alone is not appreciated.  Even if she says, "Leave me alone," slip a note under the door, text her a joke, or leave some Nutter Butters on the counter.  But she just said...right.  This is one of those times when we don't mean what we say and expect you to read our minds.  : )

Good luck!

violet smoothie

a handful of kale//the rest of the bag of frozen blueberries (about a cup)//two ripe bananas//three heaping tablespoons of quinoa//a 3-count of local honey//a splash of coconut water//healthiest smoothie ever??

the effect of laughter on showers

J had to work late on Monday night because a farmer ran over a power line with his tractor.  Yes. 

So he got home around 9:15.  (J, not the farmer.  I don't know when the farmer got home, but presumably it was shortly thereafter because there's only so far you can go on a tractor.)  

As he (J) heated up his bowl for dinner, we had this snippet:

J: How were the boys?

me: Great.  We had dinner at the table, then just as we were finishing, Alex brought his tic-tac-toe board over and asked who wanted to play.  So I played a game with him, he sat there [pointing], E called winner, and then they played the whole time I was cleaning the kitchen.  Then they ran off and started horsing around in Alex's room.  Oh, and they haven't had showers.  : /

J: Whaaaaa??

me: Babe, I know, but listen.  They were playing so well together!  Ethen was being so engaging, Alex had that big thick belly-laugh.  I couldn't bear to break that up by telling them to shower!

J (smiling): Hmmm.  So I gotta be the bad guy?

me: No...[sigh]...they're playing video games now...together...I can break that up.

J: You got this?

me: Yes...[going to E's room]...Hey Wells boys!  One of you needs to hop in the shower.  Who's got this?

E: I do!

 

At first, I felt like I failed in this parental task because I didn't force the chore immediately after dinner.  But the boys have been bonding sooooo well this summer, usually choosing to play together than separately.  So I let them have their moment.  Isn't making your brother belly-laugh worth postponing a shower for?  I think so. 

indoor salsa golf

It started out months ago - what to do on a Saturday morning when it's raining outside and everyone is a little loopy (and SO TIRED of hearing cartoons).  J grabbed our six salsa bowls and laid them upside down around the main part of the house.  Blam - instant [dry] mini golf.

We share two putters, and Ethen switches between the two depending on which one is "lucky."  There's more cheering than trash-talking and even more of Ethen taking jabs at himself.

Then last Saturday morning, it was gorgeous and sunny and not even too hot yet (read: still in the double digits).  Alex says, "Well, we COOOULD play golf!"  Note: Golf is trumping riding bikes with friends, throwing the football, even playing video games.  SO COOL.

Ethen set up the course.  He had us traversing from carpet to tile to carpet all in one bowl hole.  Each hole was a par 2 with a max score of 6, which just happened to be what Alex shot on the master-to-breakfast-nook hole (ah-hem).

Not to be outdone, Alex set up the next course.  He had us going from one end of the house to the other, around blind corners, and ending in the pantry.

You know it's good when J says, "This is a blog post!" and then Alex sticks his putter in the photo.  : )

grilling summer

//grilled asparagus, grilled steak, grilled sourdough

//grilled zucchini, grilled chicken

//grilled hot dogs with Wellsy sauce, grilled corn on the cob, cauliflower

//grilled ribs

//grilled steak, mac & cheese, coleslaw, salad with Jody's homemade dressing via Mia

//grilled asparagus, grilled Hawaiian bread, grilled T-bones
//grilled barbeque chicken, wild & brown rice, grilled brocolli

//grilled sourdough, grilled pork loin, mashed sweet potatoes

//grilled ribs, grilled peaches, grilled corn on the cob

We've been getting our grill on (as J would say) this summer.  At least once a week, J and I sit on the back porch with a timer, tongs, and a few Redd's.  We talk about tree limbs that could be trimmed, the boys, our weeks, and then J lights the grill, ha.

It's kind of magical.  : )

throwback thursday: brace face

We're in talks for getting braces for Ethen, and of course, part of that talk is cost.  J and I were comparing our expectations to the actual estimate, and I told him how much my braces had cost as a reference.  Then I did the math and said, "But that was 20 years ago."

That was 20 years ago.

That was 20 years ago.

Eeeeeek.

I still remember the day I got my braces on.  It was one of the mornings that we took the 6th grade TAAS test.  I got to Mrs. Bertelli's room late and still finished my test in the allotted time.  That night, my sweet mother made my favorites: steak in California marinade, baked potatoes, and cowboy beans.  I could barely eat any of it.  : (  But I had promised myself that since my parents were making huge efforts for me to have braces (for 3.5 years, no less), I would never complain to them about my teeth hurting.  So instead I said I just wanted to eat teeny tiny bites and swallow without much chewing.  From then on, our "code" was that I was hungry for soup.

How could anything have been TWENTY years ago??

Throwback Thursday Bonus Round!  Every time I think of Mrs. Bertelli (which is less often than you'd expect), I remember when classmate Sonny Lazo matter-of-factly said to her, "Mrs. Bertelli, you're mediocre."  And he didn't even get in trouble since he properly used a vocabulary word.

nothing is perfect & everything is work

This is proving harder to write than I thought.

A few weeks ago, J and I got into a fight, which is rare enough that it still surprises me.  It snowballed so fast because each of us was expecting the other to straighten up, no one did, and by that point, it was easy to imagine future worst-case scenarios and not want any part of that.  

Surely I'm not the only one who gets into snowballs, right?

Needless to say, it was rough.  One thing that helps me is to write it down.

I put off making this page for a few days because I wasn't anxious to relive those sad feelings.  But I still think it's important to scrap the messy bits, and I wanted some kind of acknowledgement.

I scrapped this page on a Saturday morning with sunlight flooding my scrap desk.  The boys were gone, J was outside, and it was just quiet.  No music or Netflix.  I just played and poured out my heart.  : )

The self-portrait was from the day after our meeting of the minds when I was still raw and confused (and crying) but working through the resolution.

My new favorite thing is lots of long threads haphazardly (yet strategically, ha!) tangled.  I did the same thing on this page.

The emotion is heavy, but the page is gorgeous and REAL.  I mean, scrap supplies are pretty cheap therapy, right??

100 happy days: days 81-100

Here are some highlights of my last 20 happy days (ha).

Day 82: Grilled Steak Medallions, my new favorite from Cheesecake Factory.

Day 85: J dressed up for my homecoming.  : )

Day 90: Comparing P90X3 notes with Mom!

Day 91: Watching my cousin Allan in his Crossmen marching band.  He was thrilled to see family after weeks of traveling the country.  His excitement and homesickness was palpable.  Him and J had a lot to chat about being both music lovers and athletes.  It was so fun for me to be in the midst of all of that family enthusiasm.

[Can you find Allan?  Me either!]

Day 93: Surprise by Y - Gordough's!

Day 98: 

The last few days were not happy at all.  Those turned more into a grateful project.  Even so, it was a good exercise to get over myself and apply some perspective.

So did this 100 Happy Days project work??  

It forced me to acknowledge even little happy things, and any time you write something down or say it out loud, it gives it weight which makes it more significant.  So by taking the picture or scribbling the note, I now have a bucket ball memory which I probably would have already forgotten about.  I've noticed that J sits rightnexttome on the couch and that that makes me happy.  There are hundreds of other "happy" moments that I noticed but didn't record, and they all calmed me down a bit.  No need to scramble or panic that everything isn't picture-perfect.  Look at how happy you are sitting on the back porch with the grill going...Look at those smiles you caused...Feel your heart pound as J makes a joke with toothpaste foaming out of his mouth...Listen to that laughter.  You're alright.

You can read the rest of this 100 Happy Days project here.  The mini album is next.

conversation expectations

I'm feeling very parent-y as I'm missing the boys (they are with their mom this week), so I better get all of this typed before this nostalgia passes.

I like to talk a lot.  I like to make conversations out of nothing.  To me, talking a lot means you're interested.  Sure, you might run out of "legit" things to talk about, but if you're enjoying the company, conversing is a way of engaging and enjoying that person.

The Wells boys do not like to talk a lot.  Enter conundrum.

J once asked me, "Why do you care what happened during my day?  I don't even care what happened during my day!"  My answer: "Because I care about you."

So I try to not be disappointed when they answer my questions with one word instead of five paragraphs plus two tangents.  It's not lowering the bar, it's meeting them where they are.

One night, E and I were watching TV in the living room after dinner.  I asked him a few questions and got polite but monotone one-word answers, which I have learned to mean he's worn out from sports.  To confirm:

me: Are you tired?
E: Kind of.
me: Are you tired of me asking you questions?
E: Kind of.
me: Okay.

And then I shut up.  And E stayed in the living room watching TV with me.

This was the best scenario I could have hoped for!  He was responsive, he was honest, and he stayed.  Success.

*written April 25th, 2014.