So You Think You Can Be Martha Stewart

Have you ever felt the need to be crafty?  As in "I just need to make something cute and sweet and fun and I need to do it right now!"  I had one of those moments this week.  And I totally blame Martha Stewart.  I was flipping through one of my Martha Stewart Living magazines (I won a subscription a few months ago, pretty sweet prize if you don't mind being reminded constantly that no one can do it better than Martha can) and saw some sweet and delightful felt flowers.  Felt Flowers?!?!?!   I didn't know felt flowers exisited before Martha told me so.  How did I not know about these little bundles of adorableness?  They are so cute and easy to make!  So add this to the list of crafty goodness I only have time to do when I am on vacation.  Prepare to be hooked on felt!

You will need a sheet of felt in your flower color, a sheet of leaf green felt, matching embroidery floss or heavy duty thread, a needle that can handle felt, good, sharp scissors, a large and small petal template, a leaf template, marker or fabric chalk and glue (I used hot glue).

I found a basic petal template online and drew the outline of the petals on the felt in marker. (This was not the best idea, there was some bleeding from the ink and the petals had to be cut inside the line so the discoloration wouldn't show.  Next time I will use chalk or maybe a lighter marker.)  I cut out the petals.  Next I took five petals and stitched them together with a loose over under stitch.  I knotted both ends, but that probably wasn't necessary.  When I was done, it looked like this (side note- buy felt and thread at the same time, my best guess for matching was not so great, luckily the thread is hidden, but it still irritates me for some reason.

Once I had all the petals facing the same direction I cinched them together to form the flower.  Now, I am pretty sure Martha Stewart can do this with one hand.  I could barely do it with 2.  It might be helpful to have someone pull and hold the strings while you correct petals that try to twist the wrong way.  This one bloom took me a good 15 minutes of wrestling it before it looked right.  Once it was perfect, I tied the ends together in a double knot.

Next I did the the smaller petals.  Always use an odd number of petals for the best results.  For a big flower do 7 large petals, 5 medium petals and 3 small.  This set was done just like the first set only they were alot easier to tie together.  Yay!

Adorable, right?  I ended up making a few flowers this size just because they were easy and cute.

I layered the two sets of petals together to make my flower.  Martha probably sews her flowers together, I used hot glue.  Way faster.  I also hot glued an embellishment to go in the middle and a leaf on the back.  Viola!

I'm not crazy about the button, it's just not the right color.  I'll probably pull it off and switch it for something a little more flashy.  I think it turned out pretty cute though.

Here's some smaller one layer/5 petal flowers-

I think they will look adorable on a headband for a newborn!

Of course, after I took the trouble to figure this out and killed about 2 hours trying to make it all work, I decided to see what the intenet held by way of felt flower patterns and I found this-

http://mrspriss.com/2010/05/18/classic-felt-flowers-tutorial/

Felt flower tutorial for a no-sew felt flower!  Hot glue gunners of the world unite!

And after I have had my fill of doing it the easy way, I am going to attempt felt roses- these are so sweet!

http://www.purlbee.com/rose-barrettes/

So You Think You Can Breastfeed

Yep, I am going personal on this one.  Very personal.  Turn back now if you find lactation TMI.  :)


Where to begin with my breastfeeding story?  I could start at the hospital where, after two days of enthusiasm and determination my lactation consultant said to me in frustration, "just give her a bottle!"  K had a lazy latch.  So lazy she wouldn't even latch onto a bottle, she preferred to let formula just dribble into her mouth.  Strike one against my decision to breastfeed.  I could fast forward 4 weeks when I returned to work full time.  My first week back I was sent to Vegas for a class.  I dutifully brought my pump, but alas, no working outlets in the restrooms.  Strike two.  Maybe I should start the next week, sitting in my doctor's office asking for Reglan (a drug that stimulates milk production) when my supply had dwindled to a mere ounce a day (not an ounce per pump, an ounce total from both sides).  Or a few weeks later when blood work revealed that although I had incredibly high levels of prolactin (the hormone that stimulates milk production), my body was not receiving the message.  What little I was producing had no nutritional value.  Ouch.  Strike three- I was out.  An endocrinologist strongly suggested I give up my goal.  I was 2 months post partum and had not once ever successfully breastfed.  It was a bitter (and expensive!) pill to swallow.  I had an MRI to check my pituitary, more and more bloodwork done.  I still don't have a good reason why my body reacted that way.  I took it hard.  I felt worthless and inadequate.  I had failed at labor (my body doesn't recognize pitocin either) and now I had failed at feeding my child.  I know now that a lot of the depression I had then was just the perfect storm of misery I had been dealt at that time.  Not only had I unexpectedly had a c-section and could not breastfeed, I had to return to work after four weeks, James left for Morocco for a month and we found out he was deploying to Afghanistan 6 weeks after he returned from Morocco.   Because I only had four weeks to recover from surgery, a started having a slew of health problems around that time too (severe abdominal and leg pain from not letting myself heal properly was a big one).  I had a lot of reasons to be depressed.  Breastfeeding should've fallen right off my lists of concerns, but instead I fixated on it.  I hated myself for it.  About 4 months after K was born a friend of mine had her first child.  Not only did breastfeeding come relatively easy to her, it seemed to me that her cups literaly runneth over.  She made milk in spades.  I was jealous.  I was frustrated.  I felt like I was robbing my child of something precious.  I felt I had to defend formula feeding to everyone, whether they wanted me to or not.  I blamed all K's illnesses, all her foul moods, everything, on the fact that I was a bad mom because I couldn't breastfeed.  (Again, I was probably more overdramatic because my whole experience was being colored by the much larger issues I was also dealing with.  But even knowing that, didn't make it any easier to accept.  Even here, two years later, without all the depression hanging over me, I still feel pangs of regret about not breastfeeding, even though I have a perfectly healthy happy child.  I don't know if a steady diet of breast milk would've made K any different than she already is.  Probably not.) 

And so here is where the story would logically come to an end.  I tried, I failed, I am moving on.  But then I never did tell you where my breastfeeding story really began, did I?  Here is where it really starts.  Remember my friend with milk to spare?  She really and truly did have milk to spare.  A few months after her son was born she approached me with what she was sure was sort of an odd offer.  She had pumped and froze a supply of milk so great, her child would never be able to use it all before it expired.  She wanted to know if I wanted it for K.  I remember looking at her face as she offered, I could tell she wasn't sure if it was the sort of thing you could offer to someone.  And I remember thinking, "I should find this so weird that she wants to give me her milk."  But I didn't find it weird.  Even now, just sitting here remembering that moment, tears spring to my eyes.  It was the most incredible present anyone could have offered me in those dark days.  She literally cared so much about me and K that she wanted to share herself with us.  I readily accepted.  If I could give K just one bottle of breastmilk a day on the off chance that there might be some benefit to it, I was going to do it.  Even if it wasn't mine.  And that is what I did for several months after that until the milk ran out.  I still have the little insulated bag my friend would fill with frozen bags of milk for me to take home everyday.  I just like what it means to me now, I guess.

People sometimes ask how K was fed.  Formula or breast, they'll ask.  I think sometimes people, espcially new moms, just want some sort of answer as to which is truly best.  I always say, both.  But then I like to tell them the answer that they are really looking for- you have to do what is best for you and your baby.  Maybe its breastfeeding, maybe its formula, maybe it is a little of both.  Maybe it is something you need to do on your own, maybe it ends up being something you have to ask for help with, or maybe even accept a little help with.  All that matters is that it works for you and the baby. 

So You Think You Can Blog (more than once every couple of months)

I keep telling myself to update this.  People have asked for more couponing blogs, or for me to post instructions on something crafty they have seen.  And I swear that I will, and then I don't.  I am a lazy, lazy blogger.  I am much better at reading blogs (hello all my online friends!) than I am at updating this blog.  I really thought this time I would do it.  I was super motivated.  But there is the job and the kid and the hubby and the dishes and the laundry and about 80 million other excuses not to do it.  I could sit here and say I will be better, but it probably isn't true. 

I am cooking up some couponing blogs and maybe you will see some crafty goodness in a few weeks.  Until then I am going to do something a little more personal.  I hope you like it. 

So You Think You Can Circumvent the Constitution

Not a mommying blog by any stretch, but the overturn of Prop 8 in California does mean something to me as a mother and for what I hope Kaydra's future holds.  Anyone that knows me at least a little bit, knows how I feel about same sex marriage.  Any consenting adult should be allowed to enjoy any right given to any other adult member of that society.  Especially if they are expected to pay taxes and obey the laws and things of that nature.  It is not something I like to debate.  I don't see it as a moral issue, I don't feel that my marriage is cheapened by it (Heidi and Spencer on the other hand totally cheapen the institution- too bad marriage between fame whores can't be legislated out of existence).  Anyways, aside from all that, lets get to the point of the blog.  I hope my daughter grows up in a world where this isn't news.  That marriage or civil unions, or whatever you want to call it, is available to all Americans.  I want her to never quite grasp that there was a time when that wasn't the norm.  I want her to feel comfortable in her skin, embraced for the sum of her- not just for the pieces- gay/straight, female/male, fat/thin, white/non-white, etc.  I don't want her sexuality or even her gender to define her.  I want her to play on playgrounds where the phrase "that's so gay" isn't uttered, where boys and girls play together, regardless if it is basketball or dolls.  I don't want something that is such a small piece of a person be the thing that defines her. 
I sat in my doctor's office yesterday and witnessed racism and misogynism at its best.  A "gentleman" was angry that his wife had been examined by a black doctor and never wanted "that rough black man" ever touching her again (now this doctor just happens to be my doctor, and he has never been anything but professional and very kind).  The secretary offered to make the young woman an appointment with a female doctor.  The man refused again, saying a female doctor could not be as good as the one white doctor in the office.  I don't want this to be something my daughter ever witnesses.  What makes a good doctor?  I would say skill and knowledge.  Neither of these are limited my race or gender.  Yet there are still people that use those things as part of how they judge a person's skill or competence.  At work I constantly have to get a male appraiser to explain taxation stuff I've already explained because, as a woman, much of the general public does not feel I can adaquately grasp something as sophisticated as taxation or appraisal and so I must be explaining it wrong.  I don't want that to be a fact of my daughter's existence.  Prop 8 and measures like it aren't  just about defining marriage.  It's about thinking about people in a new way.  Taking the person as they are without slapping a bunch of limiting labels on them first.  This is what I want for Kaydra.  Now I just need to get the rest of the country on board.  No H8

This is What It Looks Like- Double Coupons

So K-Mart did double coupons this week in the Health and Beauty section and I thought I would tally up my goods-

Gillette Body Wash- .35 x 4 bottles
Rolaids (4 roll pack)- Free x 4 boxes (w/ coupons that did not double)
Tampax Pearl- .49 x 3 boxes
Dentek Floss piks- .49 x 1 pack
Colgate kids toothbrush- $1.50 x 1
Quattro Schick razor- $1.49 x 1
Venus Embrace razor with free fullsize bottle of Olay lotion- $3.50 x 1 (my most expensive item)
Gillette deodorant- .29 x 1
Sunsilk travel size conditioner- Free x 1 bottle (w/ a coupon that did not double)
Pantene travel size shampoo- Free x 1 bottle
Advil PM 20 ct- .49 x 1 bottle
K-Y warming gel- $1.00 x 2 bottles

I plan on going back and snagging a few more body washes for James and see if I can snag some other travel sized stuff for free.  K-Mart was really disappointing this time around.  They have recently raised prices and the Elko K-Mart seems to be priced even higher than other K-Marts.  They also limited you to just 5 coupons a transaction, required a rewards card and reserved the right to lock the card if they felt you used too many coupons over the course of the week of doubling.  In light of box stores making couponing more difficult I have started looking to the internet stores more.  Many are beginning to offer online coupons.  This last week I have visited MedCo and Drugstore.com.  Here is what I have scored so far-

Free
travel sized body scrub from Bain de Luxe
several Ferrekai salon samples
a coffee sample
safety Q-tips
butterfly Band Aids
KY jelly

I also got Nivea body wash for $1.49

So, how is everyone else doing with couponing?  Anyone else find any sweet deals lately?

So You Think You Can Buy A House

Friday, June 25, we were supposed to be closing on this house.  After fighting over repairs and permits and threatening to walk away, jumping through loan hoops and getting the big okay from the underwriter, the keys to this should've been in our hot little hands.  But alas, they are still not.  We have been given a new closing date of July 30th.  Why it is taking 2 months to work out the issues with the city is beyond me.  We drove past it today and saw, not only the zero amount of work they have done in regards to repairs, but they have also shut off the water, letting the grass die.  I just wanted to cry as we drove away.  When I first saw this house, I fell in love.  It was the most perfect little starter home for us.  We were under contract within 24 hours of seeing it.  It seemed like it was just meant to be.  Since then it has been one aggravation after another.  My realtor wants me to believe that none of our problems are that big of a deal and that this sort of stuff is all very normal, but I hardly believe this sort of thing happens everyday.

Problem one- I found unpermitted work.  Not the inspector, not the appraiser, not the listing agent- me.  This could've cost me my loan and my home owners insurance.  And I was asked to look the other way.  When I refused the sellers said they would rather relist it than fix it.  So I turned them into the city, forcing the issue of repair.  They then tried to pin the cost of these repairs on me.  These are the people that did the damage in the first place (they claim they weren't the ones that did it, but I am guessing they were at least privy to it)!  Why should I pay for their mistakes?  And why should anyone else.  These people clearly lack character.

Problem two- the ever changing closing date.  May 27th.  June 25th.   July 30th.  WTF?  I am in closing date limbo!  Can they really keep pushing back the date like this?  Shouldn't this be illegal?  And why isn't my agent angry on my behalf?  When she called to tell me that the new closing was July 30 (now 120 days out from the date we went under contract) she was genuinely surprised that I was upset.  Really?  Would every other home buyer in the world take that news with a smile on their face?  I have a hard time believing that. Maybe if this were a short sale- but this is a regular sale, I am paying pretty much asking price, and all closing costs. 

Problem three- absolutely nothing has been done to the house.  The permit problems were found over a month ago and they still haven't done anything to rectify it.  And I am supposed to feel confident that July 30th will be the last time we circle a date on the calendar and mark it "closing?" 

Maybe it is my fault for not finding the permit issues sooner.  But how would a first time homebuyer know to look for that stuff?  I would've thought that sort of thing would've come up in an inspection or appraisal.  I guess it truly is buyer beware.  Maybe this is my fault for holding on to the house so tight and not being willing to walk away.  But I really felt like this was meant to be our home and I felt a bit conned by the sellers for trying to hide so many flaws.  Even if I did walk away it would've killed me to think of some other buyer taking on so many problems without even knowing it.  I still would've called the city to turn them in- just for the sheer fact that they tried to sell me the big fat lie of "the city doesn't care about unpermitted work..."  Yes they do, that is why you have to get permits for stuff.  Plus, what if my lender had found out months or years down the road that this was kept from them?  They could call in the loan immediately, which would ruin us and cost us the house and all we had invested in it.  Gah!  I just wish I had never laid eyes on that stupid house.  And I hope I never have to meet the sellers.  I am not sure whether we will end up in this house or not at this point.  I am very close to consulting a lawyer, which seems crazy in something so routine as buying a house.  But something about this whole thing isn't ringing true for me.  And I am not a real estate expert, but it seems like it ought to be against some sort of law for sellers to put buyers into a never ending holding pattern of one closing date after another.  I get it now why some people rent forever.  I have ulcers and acne and nightmares over this.  Is this really what it means to be ahome buyer?  And if so, why does anyone bother?  Any insight anyone might have will be appreciated!

So You Think You Can Have Your Marine Back

James returned from Afghani-a-go-go-land on May 29th.  We spent the three day weekend in Salt Lake City, anticipating that he would have to report back to Camp Williams for work on Tuesday.  We were pleasantly surprised to learn that he wouldn't have to report back until today.  So I got my husband for a blissful 5 days before I had to say goodbye to him.  He'll be back for the weekend, be gone next week and then finally be home for good.  It's almost cruel though, the back and forth.  And it is funny that no matter whether it is 7 months or 7 days or even just 7 hours, I still miss him terribly.  Life is just better when I am sharing it with him.  And apparently I've become a sap.  Whatever, I've earned the right to wax sentimental on occassion. 

I am not going to sugar coat or beat around the bush or be vague.  This deployment really beat me up emotionally and I suspect the same holds true for my husband.  I am so grateful that not only did he come home, but he came home relatively unscathed.  It was hard knowing that he was in dangerous situations and it was incredibly hard to trust the Corps to take care of him.  Especially when sometimes their actions indicated that decision making, even simple ones, was beyond their grasp.  It was a lot to ask of the Marines, and it was a lot to ask of their families.  And then March came and it got even harder.  Everytime I see Olsen's face or hear his name, that terrible week he died comes back to me in a rush and I want to just throw up knowing how easily that could've been James.  And I can't even begin to fathom what it was like for James.  The greatest thing about a deployment is putting it behind you, forgetting it even happened.  But when it ends up being one like this one, I suspect it haunts you.  I am so ready to try to shake it off, but I know it will take time. 

There is so much I want to put down into words about what it really felt like to go through this experience, but I just can't seem to articulate it in a way that would do it justice.  I felt types of fear and pain and love and pride that I have never felt before.  Maybe things seemed heightened because I was a mom this time, or because this deployment was a lot more dangerous than the last.  Maybe it was just because I had already done it once before and I just couldn't see myself making it through another one.  I just don't know.  But I do know that this is pretty much over.  It feels like a million pounds have been lifted off of me.  The world is starting to have color again.  I no longer count the hours after news of a casualty, wondering if dress blues will show up at my door, or at the door of a friend.  I no longer feel chained to my phone, wondering if the long periods between calls is merely happenstance or because I am about to learn they are river city- which is no longer just a communication status for me, but almost a state of mind where no news is good news, the happy period just before bad news is given.  Slowly but surely life will return to normal, or whatever we can work out normal to be.