Flag Football

I have issues with competitive sports. Maybe it's the peace lover in me. Or maybe it's the idea of someone losing and the feelings of sadness that accompany that bothers me.

When my son approached me with the idea of him participating on a flag football team, I wanted to raise my self righteous nose and say, "Why on earth? Football is for meatheads." In fact, I think I did just that. But he persisted and after some discussion on what it means to be a part of a team and to keep focus on doing his best, we consented.

I want to say that the experience, this go around, was completely different from past sporting experiences, but I can't fully say that. As I observed at games, there were still the looks of disappointment on coaches' faces, on boys' faces, and on parents' faces. It physically hurts me to see that. I know I'm a bleeding heart. It's true.

But all was not lost, there was a positive aspect that occurred for me. It was this...our son did not complain one time. No, not once. He did not complain about practice. He did not complain that he dropped the ball possibly every time he touched it. He did not complain that he only pulled one flag the entire season. He did arrive at every game with determination to try his best. He was an example to me on how to play sports and not let sports play him.

So maybe, just maybe, the problem doesn't lie with competitive sports, but with MY attitude on playing the game.

It's true, lessons can be learned everyday and I'm thankful to my son for teaching me this one.

The huddle.

The arms in the air.

The team.

Sunshine and Happiness

There is a direct correlation between sunshine and happiness. I'm positive about that. Add a picnic and a blondie, little 4 year old dressed in her favorite cupcake jammies AND her stuffed dog to the equation and the Happiness Percentages are through the roof!

One Happy Girl.

And the Carrot Stands Alone

Early in the Fall I was ambitious. When it came to my garden box that is. I had a plan. A plan that involved garden grown vegetables into the winter. I prepared the soil weeks in advance. I aerated, I fertilized and then I planted. I had picture perfect tiny rows planted with carrots, lettuce, and broccoli. I waited for the little shoots to emerge from the soil and when they did, there were shouts of joy and satisfaction. The plan was in action.

And then it wasn't. One morning I discovered something horrific. All my tender shoots were missing! Nowhere to be seen. I carefully looked over my tiny rows looking for clues. Nothing was out of place. No sign of insects, no sign of critter tracks. Nothing, nada. I was stumped.

Every day for the next two weeks I came out to see new sprouts emerging and then the very next day they would be gone. And then one day, in my frustration as I was looking towards the Heavens asking, "why oh why" I noticed a very small nest perched high on a second story window ledge and my mystery was solved. Those little chickadees had dined on or perhaps constructed their nest with my winter dreams. Drats.

I quit visiting my little garden box after that. My window of planting had since passed. I gave up hopes for the Fall planting season and began plans for the Spring...which includes netting. Take that.

During my time for contempt against feathered fowl, one of my children announced there was a lone carrot plant growing tall and proud. "Oh it's only a weed", I grumbled. And then curiosity got the better of me and I took a stroll to check things out. Low and Behold, sure enough, there all alone standing tall and beautiful was a carrot stock. Only one. We watched as the weeks went by. Unbelieving that the birds had not attacked. We waited and waited and then it was harvest time. Up came a carrot, big and strong. And with it, our determination to overcome all odds. Sounds dramatic, but a lot can be learned from that one carrot. Life's lessons are best learned like this.

From the carrot that stood alone.

Guardian of the carrot. Job well done.

Love Is In the Air


Happy Valentine's Day!


Decision on Dyson

My Hoover had its last hoorah last week.
It was a fine and dandy vacuum that kept my carpets clean for almost 7 years. A few months ago its wheel compartment gave out on me. My ever-so-handy Beloved husband ordered new wheels and we were back in action. That only lasted for a short time before a piece gave way that held the rotating brush. After a thorough examination from my very own Jack of All Trades, it was deemed that it would cost more for new parts than the vacuum cost originally. A new vacuum would be purchased...but which one?

We are not hasty in the purchasing department around here (well, some of us (not me) aren't). I took on the task of researching vacuums. Which one was best suited for me? Which one had the bang for the buck? Which one could endure the use I'd put it through? Which one, which one, which one? It became a stress in my life. I started having vacuum nightmares. There were so many choices, so many features, so many prices. How does one decide?

I'll tell you how. I went to Costco where the choices are limited and I picked one of two Dyson machines...the one that was half the price as the other. And that's it. No more decisions, no more nightmares.

The DC 14 was the choice for me. The yellow one in the middle. It passed its initial run through and I look forward to our many years together.


Why not get a little workout while practicing your spelling words?

Spell punching bag...

p (punch) u (punch) n (punch) c (punch)...you get the idea (punch).

Valentine Cards

Last year, my sister turned me on to these adorable homemade valentine cards.

I also saw the idea from this blog and knew I had to try my hand at such cuteness!
Here's the supplies I used.

Easy right?

Here's how Kate's turned out.

I had to add a disclaimer to the bottom of Seth's before he relented. Next year, I'll make it up to him.

A Post To Dye For

This is how my hair days have been going.

Coloring my hair can sometimes give it the boost I need.

I have had good luck with this brand and color.

What helps your hair?