July...in Pictures

Well, now that it's the last day of July, I'm feeling the need to document what we've been up to this month.

(I mean, besides watching episodes of the Bachelorette and Bachelor Pad.  There's been a lot of that going on too.)

As usual, I prefer to tell my stories using the infamous iPhone dump.  Why, you ask?  Because I'm basically too forgetful at this point to remember what I did yesterday, and if it wasn't for the iPhone, I'm pretty sure I'd have no idea what's been going on around here, and hey, does anyone else feel like the iPhone is slowly replacing their brain?

Just me?

Bueller?

(Apparently Mama needs to do some crosswords over here).

Anyway, without further ado, I present:  Sherri's July Phone Dump!

(You're right, I totally just wanted to say the word "dump.")

(I mean, I did say "holy crap" on national television during our Elbow Room reveal, which is obviously so ladylike. "Phone dump" fits right in, now doesn't it?)

Let's start off with a little 4th of July fun, shall we?

Due to the general pasty-ness and awkward leg angles, this picture should never actually have been allowed to see the light of day. But my girl looks happy, and that's a good enough reason to embarrass myself, right?

Future love connection? We're up for it!
In about 30 years, of course.

Our girl's gettin' fresh, y'all!
From the expression on Caleb's face,  I'd say he's not really feeling it.

True friends tell you when you've got something in your teeth.
True husbands take pictures of you digging it out.
Thanks, babe.

July 5th was the 9th anniversary of our very first date!
We celebrated by visiting Atlanta's Food Truck Park and stuffing our faces.
(Similar to how I stuffed my face with fried chicken on our first date, actually.)

So. Funny story here. 
All day on the 5th, I wondered if John would remember our little anniversary. 
(Which I figured was probably pretty likely, based on the annoying helpful reminders I threw out during the few days before.)
Well, he didn't mention it at all, and near the end of the day, I may or may not have implied that I couldn't believe he would forget something like that.

(You know, by telling him, "I can't believe you would forget something like that!")

Then, I headed upstairs to read, as is my nightly pre-bedtime ritual, and when I opened my kindle, this is what I found tucked inside.

Aw, snap.

Yes, my foot is delicious, thanks for asking.

Slinky arm bangles are so fetch.
(No, Regina George, I'll never stop trying to make "fetch" happen.)

Y'all.  I have a serious cowboy boot problem.  As in, I feel the need to wear them constantly.
I actually wore them with shorts the other night, and was secretly feeling very Footloose-y....until I looked in a mirror and remembered that I don't have Juliane Hough's legs.

Sigh.

I love my people.

Dressed up for church on Sunday. What a little lady, right? 
Well, then this little lady goes and tells her teachers, "I prayed to Jesus and asked him to help me poo poo on the potty, and he DID!"

Well, the potty talk apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I guess.

This picture was actually in a COLORING book that AG got at school.
My friend Kristin has a huge roach phobia...it is SO bad, that she can't even hear or say the word "cockroach," and instead calls them "CRs."

Understandably, I had to text her a picture immediately:

Because I am so nice. Obviously.

Silly faces+ Instagram= good times had by all.

Hey! You know what John really needs?
Some blue t-shirts, of course.

Happy (almost) my favorite month of the year!

(It has NOTHING AT ALL to do with having an August birthday, I promise.)

(But while we're on the subject, husband, please feel free to follow my Pinterest board entitled "Birthday Wish List.")

Just kidding!  I don't actually have a Pinterest board for that.

Yet.

Elbow Room THIS Saturday!

So.  Our episode of Elbow Room airs this Saturday at 1pm.  And y'all?

I am freaking the heck out over here.  

(Not in the good way.)

My thoughts have been less "yay, I can't wait to be on TV!" and more "what the heck was I thinking, and pleasepleaseplease don't let them make us look like the goobers that I know we are."

A few of my friends have asked me if we're having a viewing party.  Um, probably not.  Unless people want to "view" me hiding behind a pillow out of embarrassment. 

The one thing I AM excited about is for everyone to see the amazing job that the Elbow Room team did in giving us our own office spaces.  And now that it's so close, I can share a few things I learned during filming....list style. WOOT!

(Gross.  Apparently the goober-ish-ness begins now.)

(Okay, who am I kidding? It began a long time ago.)

1.  This guy is JUST as nice as he seems on TV....maybe even nicer. And I may or may not have had a stalker moment the first time we met, where I was all, "HiChip,wowIcan'tbelieveyou'rereallyhere, IlovedyouonDesignedtoSellandCurbAppealandheyweren'tyouonarecentepisodeofDesignStar?"

Which earned me a muttered "simmer down psycho" from John, along with a swift elbow to the ribs.

(I also noticed that Chip took a few big steps away from me, but I am sure that was a total coincidence.)

By the last day of filming, I think I had convinced Chip that I wasn't (too) crazy.

2.  It's just unfair that there is so much talent AND beauty on this design team....seriously, these girls were amazing and fun to work with--we loved every minute, and I seriously missed them when they were gone.

3.  I believe I may already have mentioned this, but if, hypothetically of course, you are prone to nervous sweating, thin silky shirts are not your friend.  NOT. AT. ALL.

Ahem.

4.  When I get nervous, I also tend to say things that I would NEVER actually say in real life. For example, during one interview, I was explaining why our current office setup wasn't ideal for John, who is on the phone most of his work day.  I'm all, "it's loud, we have constant toddler visits, Jackson freaks out when the postman rings the doorbell...."

Wait, the what? The POSTMAN? Did I suddenly age 50 years and start going by "Nana?"

Apparently, I did.

5.  I didn't get a picture of the whole crew, but they were all awesome and hilarious.  Plus, they put up with my previously mentioned nervous-sweating habit, along with my need to pee approximately 147 times an hour, from all the coffee I was nervously drinking.

Clearly, I was a nervous delight.

This is Brenton, the director.  At least I think that was his official title, although I would like to title him The Guy Who Tried to Steal Jackson From Us On A Daily Basis.

No seriously, we loved Brenton. And he was amazing, and talented, and Brenton, you can send me that fifty bucks now for saying such nice things about you on the blog.

6.  If you leave the Elbow Room team alone at your house for 5 days, while you go on vacation, you may receive a video text like this one:

Well, that's one way to accomplish an office makeover.

Stitch Fix

I did something a little bit rash.

(Don't act like you're surprised.)

Recently, I heard about a personal styling company called Stitch Fix on a blog that I stalk, and was all, personal styling?  For $20? Trying on clothes without a toddler climbing the walls of a dressing room, digging in my purse, and waving around the tampons she found there as we leave?

Why yes.  Yes, please.

Basically, Stitch Fix is an online personal styling service, that will send you 5 items per "fix," based on your personal style, "wardrobe holes," looks you want to try, etc. You pay $20 for your fix, and that money is then applied to any items you decide to keep.  

(If you don't keep anything, you're out $20.  But at least you have a fun story to tell, right?)

They kindly send you a prepaid envelope for any items you're returning, and you just drop it in the mail within 3 days of receiving your fix.  For those of us who may or may not be slightly lazy, averse to dressing room lighting, or disinclined to practice toddler-wrangling while trying on clothes, this is seriously a PERFECT solution.

The first step was to go online and sign up.  Which I did, oh probably, I don't know,  about five seconds after hearing about it.  Within a day, I received an email questionnaire to fill out...you know, questions like what's your style? what's your size? And, oh yeah, btw, if you lie and say you're a two when you're really a 6, nothing we send you will fit.

(I mean, who would ever want to lie about their size?  I mean, that's crazy talk, right?)

(Ahem.)

Anyway, after you fill out the survey, indicating your price range, desired style, any special items you want to request, etc, you just schedule your fix for whenever you want!  And then, on a glorious, sun-shiny day (or a humid, 104 degree day), you will receive THIS:

Who doesn't love and adore getting a package in the mail?
Especially when it's filled with fun goodies selected especially for you.

This silky blue tank was my first item in the box.
Although I am completely obsessed with the styling cards they attach to every piece, I wasn't so much obsessed with the color of the top, particularly on my pasty white skin.

2nd item: Silky yellow blouse with a cut-out in the back.
Actually loved this one, but again, color was definitely not cute with my sadly pale complexion. 

3rd item was a cute oversized sweater-type thing. Somehow forgot to get a picture of that one. But since, A) I would literally probably melt within moments of stepping outside, and B) it was an unfortunate (on me) shade of oatmeal, I decided to send that one back too. 

Ouch.  0 for 3 at this point, so I moved on to......

Items 4 and 5: Cute chunky turquoise necklace, and a striped kimono-sleeved cardigan.
I was HIGHLY obsessed with both of these pieces, thus, they are the only ones you're actually going to see on my body.

I styled the cardigan the way that they showed in the style cards, with jeggings, a long white slouchy t-shirt, and some booties (can't really see them all that well in the photo.)   

I decided my messy closet wasn't the best backdrop for a photo, so I headed downstairs to take a photo in the only other full-length mirror we own.  

(Did I mention that those darn booties actually nearly killed me on my way down the stairs?  I'm thinking I'll be styling the outfit without them next time.)

(Incidentally, they also showed this cardigan with a cute maxi dress and gladiator sandals...LOVE.)

 Ultimately, I decided to only keep the cardigan.  I was literally twitching as I put the chunky necklace in the return envelope, BUT I do own something similar and at $40, it just wasn't worth it in the end.

I think the cardigan was $68, but since I had already paid $20 for my "fix," I only owed them $48.  And you can specify price ranges before they send you anything, so if your budget is less $200 per top, and more $20 per top, you let them know and they stay within your range.  Win-win.

It was really fun, and I'm already planning to do it again soon.  If you're interested at all, go check out their website and sign up.  You can do it once and not be obligated again, since you don't have to sign up for a monthly subscription.

Sorry to get all infomercial-y, but I tend to get excited about things that I think are fun, and subsequently decide everyone I know should try it immediately.

So.  Try it.  Immediately.

Happy Wednesday!  

Adulthood

Adulthood kind of sneaks up on you.  One minute, you're in college, dancing all night and inhaling Waffle House at 4am, and the next, you and your friends are discussing which bib works best for capturing stray food and baby drool.  I thought it might be fun to share some of the other highly embarrassing statements I've caught myself making...you know, the ones that would pretty much make College Sherri roll over in her grave.

(Because College Sherri is no longer with us.)

(I didn't really like her that much anyway, what with her ability to eat fast food constantly and never gain weight. She's dead to me.)

1.  "I'm so excited to watch my newest episode of HGTV's Design Star!"

(College Sherri feels confused right now, because she doesn't even know what HGTV stands for.  No sweetie, it's not a new fraternity on campus, m-kay?)

2.  "I got the most awesome swim dress from Amazon.com the other day!"

(Swim what?  Is Adult Sherri for real right now?  Sadly, yes. And please put down the sausage biscuits, College Sherri.  They WILL catch up with you.)

3.  "I really hope I get those dining room chairs I wanted for Christmas this year!"

(Excuse me, Adult Sherri? Dining room CHAIRS for Christmas?  Why don't you just ask for some mom jeans instead?)

4. That sewing class I signed up for is gonna be awesome!

(Again, allow me to determine if you are, in fact, for real right now, Adult Sherri?)

(Adult Sherri really has nothing to say for herself.)

I hate to admit it, but based on some of these statements (okay fine. All of these statements), I'm pretty sure I'm about two minutes away from a minivan, a perm, and ironing my jeans.

(HELP. ME.)

Even though Adult Sherri feels pretty lame at the moment, I know my life is ultimately a lot more satisfying than College Sherri's.  Not only do I know about waxing my eyebrows, I also own a flatiron, have an iPhone, and am proficient in "working the TiVo."

But most of all, I have them:

And they will trump your skinny, sausage biscuit-eating days every time, College Sherri.

#winning

Dear Peachtree

Dear Peachtree,

We had fun the other day, didn't we?  Granted, it wasn't my best showing, but hey-that's probably what you get when you don't train for a 10k, and instead decide to run the day before it happens.  Also known as, "overestimating your athletic capabilities."

I was rash, and decided earlier in the week that I wanted to subject myself to the torture run the race.  Fortunately, and only hypothetically, of course, a sweet friend had an extra race number, and allowed me to take it off her hands.

For the record, you knew me the other day as Melissa.

Again, only hypothetically.

You know what I love about you, Peachtree?  The fact that for SIX SOLID MILES I had to bob and weave my way through the other 60,000 crazy people that thought it would be a good idea to NOT sleep in and instead run for an hour in the Georgia heat.  Delightful.

I also really enjoyed how, about mile 4, I started to feel minor symptoms of what was probably a heat stroke coming on, which sent me desperately (and vainly) in search of some Gatorade. Let me just tell you, I seriously would've paid $100 for a bottle of Gatorade, or just ANY primary colored liquid masquerading as a sports drink, at that point.

On the other hand, the beer that got sprayed in my face by some random nut job kind spectator was totally refreshing. Or NOT.

But, we did it, didn't we?  And by "we," I actually mean "me," because clearly you did nothing except make me almost die out there, while having only some Justin Bieber to get me through.

NO. SHAME.

Your friend,
Sherri "Why Did I Do This Again?" Dickens

I mean, Melissa.