Seven Years

I wish I could say that I got all crafty and made this anniversary gift for John.  But I didn't. 

I also wish I could say I had waited until our actual anniversary (today) to give it to him.  But, I ordered it back in August, and managed to wait until, well....August. 

(Clearly, I'm the very picture of patience and restraint.)

(By the way, the gift ISN'T the weird old gasoline/oil/I'm not really sure what they heck they used to put in that can.  Nor is it the drinks bin, or the wooden (sadly leaning to one side, and therefore unusable) table.  I hope that narrows things down for you.)

When I saw this sign on etsy, I was minding my own business, looking for fun pallet creations.  (Clearly after a session of stalking pallet ideas on Pinterest.) 

I didn't actually intend to get my husband an old pallet for our seventh anniversary.  But the words resonated with me immediately, and I just KNEW.  Knew he would love it.  Knew he'd much rather have this than a new watch, or some cuff links, or, oh who am I kidding? 
I would never buy him cuff links. 

When I gave it to him, I had all these plans to write a really meaningful letter about why I chose an old piece of wood as our anniversary present.  But since I basically ripped off the shipping materials and ran into his office with it, that plan didn't really happen.  It was more like, "Hey babe, here's your anniversary gift, yes, I know it's August, yes, I know our anniversary is in October, but look how cool this is, and aren't you glad you have it now?!"

Obviously.

If I had managed to not be myself for a minute, exhibit some restraint, and actually write the letter, I would've told him that it represents exactly how I felt on our wedding day. 

But it also represents a lot more than that.

It represents.....

The day we met.

The day he told me he loved me, and knew that I was going to be his wife.

The day he actually asked me to be his wife.

All the days of our honeymoon.

The day he surprised me with a little puppy we named Jackson.

The day we found out I was pregnant.

The day we watched our daughter come into the world.

And then a whole collection of days in between, spent doing nothing at all, spent acting like total goobers, and spent doing some insanely fun things.  But most importantly, just spent together.

It represents the gift of a life full of "best days I can ever remember." And today I am unbelievably thankful.

Happy seventh anniversary, babe!

Disclaimer: It's no secret that I can really get my mush on, particularly when it comes to my husband.  Sorry for that.  Feel free to go throw up now.

Happy Birthday, Little Presh!

Dear Ally Grace,

You're two years old today!  I am literally in awe at how fast the past two years have flown by.  You have transformed from a sweet little baby, to an adventurous, hilarious, talkative, and always entertaining little girl.  Your dad and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you if we tried. 

I want you to know what you were like at this age, so here goes:  You're quite the talker.  Girl, you can really get your word on.  (You probably wish mommy would stop getting her word on, am I right?).  You started talking super early, and have been communicating in sentences for awhile.  Like, actual sentences.  Some of my favorite:

"I like cupcakes."  (Well, so do I.  What a coincidence.  I'm sure it has nothing at all to do with the many cupcakes that were stuffed in my mouth while pregnant. Nothing at all.)

"I like a boy."  (Say WHAT?!?!  After I finished passing out, I mentioned this to your dad.  He was not exactly a fan.)

"Happy birthday for Chase." (Daddy is not so much a fan of this either, and would like to know exactly who is this "Chase" character?)

"Mommy hold you."  (You say this when you want me to pick you up.  Which is coincidentally a LOT more often, now that I have back problems.)

"Baby Rhodes rolled over."  (Yes, at least a month ago.  And we are still talking about it.)

"Gooooo, Dawgs, Sic' em.  WOOF, WOOF, WOOF."  (Okay, this may not actually be a sentence.  But you'd better believe I taught my girl to call the Dawgs. One of life's many important lessons.)

"Cookie, cookie, cookie."  (Girlfriend does a perfect impression of Cookie Monster.)

"La, La, La, Luuuuuuuke.  I am your Faaaather."  (A la Chris Farley, in Tommy Boy.  CLEARLY this was none of my doing.  But it's pretty hilarious all the same.)

You are a social butterfly.  You have NO qualms about waving and talking to people....friends, family, waiters, complete and total strangers, and possibly even just randomly yelling "Hey girl!" to people at the park.  (Even when they're not girls.)  One of your favorite things to say is:  "Hey. Whatcha doin'?  My name's Ally Grace. Nice to meet you."  I love your outgoing nature.  You're already confident, and that's one of my greatest desires for you--to have confidence in who you are in Christ.  I pray that every day for you.

Did I mention that you like to talk?  One of your favorite things to do is to repeat what we say.  Here's a conversation we had just the other day:

Mommy:  (while dropping her keys)  Darn it!

Ally Grace:  Darn it!

Mommy:  No, no, Ally Grace....don't say "darn it." 

Ally Grace, "Mommy say it."

Mommy:  Um........

Why are you already smarter than me, little one?

You are obsessed with your "baby Bible."  It's the first thing you want in the morning, and the last thing you want at night.  You may or may not love it more than you love me. 

(Since it's about Jesus, I'm okay with that.)

I haven't been doing the world's best job with the camera lately, but I've been taking some mental snapshots of moments that I want to make sure I don't ever forget:

You and Daddy, dancing in the bathroom to a Zac Brown Band song.

Hugging me through the slats of your crib, first thing in the morning.

Praying together before bed.  (A typical Ally Grace prayer? "Thank you God for mommy, for daddy, for Jackson.  For Man.  (Her little toy man, not actual mankind or anything).  Thank you God for fun.  Thank you for Dubs.  Thank you for Jesus.  AMEN!!!" (said with great flair)

Trying to teach Jackson how to use an iPhone.  (I'm not entirely sure he enjoyed the process).

Sweetly touching and naming every single part of my face.

Snuggling onto my shoulder at night before bed.

Yelling "GO DADDY!" at the top of your lungs, for no reason at all. 

Telling me you're headed to "Costco" when you're pushing your grocery cart around the house.  (Incidentally, this may mean we do sample runs at Costco a little too often.)

I know I could go on and on.  And on.  (Now, where do you get that talking thing from? Hmmm.  So weird.)

I just want you to read this one day and know, without a doubt, that you are completely and unreservedly loved. 

I promise we'll never stop.

Winner!

Okay, I LOVED reading about all of your favorite items of clothing!  And I realized that I never shared mine......right now, it's a pair of pink cropped jeans.  And before you're all, "Hey Sherri?  The 80's called, and they want their jeans back," I actually purchased them this fall. 

Although, come to think of it, I did totally rock some turquoise Guess jeans back in the 5th grade. 

(Along with a perm, some rompers, and various other fashion atrocities that should never be named again.) 

Anyway, on a more interesting note.....I've drawn a winner for the giveaway!  My friend, (and pregnancy soulmate) Caroline O, won with the following comment:

My favorite current item in my closet would have to be a new-ish pair of not-so-skinny, skinny jeans. They are cut like skinny jeans, so I feel a little sassy when I'm wearing them, but they are actually more of a relaxed fit...so I can eat as many krispy kremes as I want. I know these pants sound too good to be true, but I'm wearing them now and I assure you they are for real. Or I really AM imagining them and THAT'S why the bag boy offered to help me out to my car at Publix today...


Caroline, girl, your comment almost made me fall out of my chair laughing!  Have fun getting your "edit" on. And thanks to everyone for entering the giveaway!

Happy Thursday!

The "Edit" Experience...and a Giveaway!

Do you have one of those friends who always, always, always looks super cute and put together?  You know, the kind of girl that basically every time you see her, you're all, "I want to look just like that!" 

(Which hopefully you yelled in your head, and not out loud while drooling over her boots.)

I have a friend like this, and her name is Lauren.  And fortunately for me, she actually has her own wardrobe consulting and personal shopping business, Edit by Lauren.  (Not to mention, a super fabulous style blog that's on my daily must-read list.)

(Did I mention that she also had twins 9 months ago, and still hasn't succumbed to any kind of "mom uniform?")

(Unless that mom uniform is an adorable dress, cute jewelry, and fun wedges.)

(In which case, sign me up.)


Last week, I had Lauren come "Edit" my closet.  And let me start off by saying, I consider myself a fairly good purger of junk.  (I am also quite good at collecting it, but that's another story.)  So, honestly, I didn't know how much "editing" we would really be able to do.

Well, we did A LOT.  And y'all?  It. Was. Amazing. So amazing, that I knew I had to blog about it.


So, in no specific order, here are the Top Five Reasons to Schedule an Appointment with Edit (As SOON as You Possibly Can.)

1.  Lauren will help you figure out your style goals.  Mine included things like: "I want to quit wearing gym clothes all day, every day."  Or, "Help me figure out how to wear rolled up boyfriend jeans without looking like a total weirdo."

2.  Hanging out with Lauren is like hanging out with a really fun girlfriend. You know, one who has exceptional style, and isn't afraid to say things like, "I'm sure this short-sleeved jacket with the fur collar was awesome when you got it......but, maybe not so much now." 

(Definitely not so much now. Or probably ever.)

3.  She will help you decide what to give away, consign, or have tailored.  It's just like that Tim Gunn show that I used to love, except I like Lauren even better than Tim Gunn.  Which is saying a lot, because Tim Gunn is pretty darn likable.

4.  Lauren helped me pull some new outfits together using the clothes that I had. Did you hear that, ladies? In about 2 seconds flat, I had at least 5 new outfits, using items I already owned.  (Which is when John became a huge fan of the editing experience.)  Long vest that you're not really sure how to wear?  No problem.  You'll have 3 new ways to wear it within seconds.  Literally.

5.  Lauren helped me identify the "holes" in my wardrobe.  For example, having about 437 different kinds of boots, but no solid cardigans apparently isn't the best style strategy.

(Okay, fine.  I lied. I have a few more reasons to add to the list.  But isn't a top EIGHT list even better than a top 5?  Obviously.) 

6.  Edit offers all kinds of fun services--wardrobe consultation, personal shopping, makeup consultation, and even an "edit" your packing experience.  I may or may not need to try them all....especially the packing one, since I am generally known for having the heaviest suitcase in any given traveling situation.

7.  After your wardrobe consultation, you'll receive a Style File, which basically includes your new outfit options, wardrobe needs (along with specific suggestions and links), and some really fun styling tips.  It's like reading an issue of In Style, that's been tailored specifically for you. 

Um, yes, please.

8.  And here's the biggest reason of all:  Lauren is offering one of you a $100 gift certificate to use toward ANY of Edit's services!  Woo hoo!  All you have to do to enter this giveaway is leave a comment telling me about your favorite item of clothing.  Cute, comfy, whatever--what do you love most in your closet? 


Even if it IS a short-sleeved, fur-lined jacket.  I won't tell.

Dumpster Diving and Pinterest

I think Pinterest has become a problem in my life. 

Apparently, it's turned me into a weirdo/creeper who dumpster dives for used shipping pallets, so I can get crafty and make those awesome pallet shelves that everyone keeps pinning.

(Except I won't make them.  I'll totally make John do it, because I have a slight measuring aversion, and am not sure my preferred method of "eyeballing it" will work).

(Plus, I also may not know how to work a saw.  That's what boys are for, right?)

Anyway, so I'm driving home from physical therapy, minding my own business, when I notice that a new store moving into our neighborhood has some sweet shipping pallets propped up against the dumpster.

(My teenage self just rolled her eyes at my mom-tastic usage of the word sweet). 

(Also, I techncally didn't have to dumpster dive.  I'm still a dumpster creeper though.)

I pulled up, and pondered just grabbing them and stuffing them in the car.  Ultimately, I decided it looks (a little) less shady if I actually ask for them first.

I go inside, nicely introduce myself to the store owner as a neighbor, and then kindly ask if I can have the pallets out back.

He's all, "You mean the ones in the dumpster?!"  And I'm like, "well, yes, but technically they're not IN the dumpster, they're just kind of leaning....I'm sure they're clean.....ish."

And he's all "o-KAY, whatever floats your boat, weirdo."

Okay, maybe I made up the weirdo part.  But he totally said it with his eyes.

AG's First Haircut

Looking back, I realized that I forgot to blog about a super momentous occasion in AG's life. 

What's that, you ask?  Oh, just her first haircut.  Where she got LAYERS.  And some hair product to "bring out her curls."  She may as well have gotten highlights, and a makeover.  Since she's practically a teenager and all.

Personally, I suffer from "haircut anxiety."  If you ever had a bad, mushroom head-ish haircut in your youth, you totally get what I'm talking about.  You know.  The kind that may or may not have made you call your parents crying, causing them to drive down to Athens, take you to dinner, and reassure you that "it really doesn't look that bad," and "of course you look just like Rachel from Friends." 

And then, "Wait, we thought you didn't watch that kind of smut?" 

Oops.

So, anyway, we arrived at Pigtails and Crewcuts, at about 11am on a Saturday morning.

Mistake number one. 

It was like a playgroup on steroids, with kids you don't know, and toys that have been touched by half the free world.  I fought the urge to grab some Purell and just squirt it willy-nilly all over the room.

(Okay, no I didn't.  I'm not a germ-freak.  At all.  Which totally could be why we've been to the doctor about 97 times in the past year.)

Anyway......We finally get called, and Ally Grace gets to take her turn in the chair. 

Which was shaped like an airplane.  And was right next to the police car. 

(Which sadly doesn't fit an adult, in case you were wondering.)

The stylist was fabulous, and I have literally never seen someone move so fast.  Cutting toddler hair should probably be an olympic sport, honestly.  And AG was just entranced by some cartoon they had on, barely even noticing that her sweet baby mullet was getting chopped. 

That's some serious "party in the back," my friends.

Oh, baby mullet  We will miss you. 

(NO.)

A little curious George is all it takes.



The finished product.  Mullet-free and proud of it.



They gave us an actual "first haircut" certificate, along with a tiny bag of baby hair.  Which is probably a super sweet and memorable keepsake, that most moms keep forever.  I scanned it so you could see:

(I'm not gonna lie, the bag of hair kinda makes me want to barf.)

(In a sweet, memorable way, of course.)

Lately I've Been.....

.....trying to keep up with my almost 2-year old, who, sadly runs faster than me at the moment.

.....hearing the word "mine."  A lot. 

(John's obviously gotten really possessive with his toys.)

(And seriously, all you experienced parents out there.....how are you not supposed to laugh when your toddler yells "dat's MINE puzzle!")

(It's pretty effective actually.  I've started yelling, "that's MINE brownie!!" when John tries to grab it from me. Works like a charm.)

......having dance parties in our living room every day.  Which, I'm not gonna lie, is totally fun.  And conveniently, a genius way to wear out the little one. 

(Coincidentally, it's yet another way we've convinced our next-door neighbors that we're crazy.)

......contemplating bangs.  Again.  Seriously, why do I do this?  Every fall, I start thinking, hmmmm.....maybe I need some bangs.  And then I obsess over it for a few days, and then I chicken out.  Do any of you have bangs?  Do you love them, or do they make you crazy? 

.......reading my love my kindle.  If you're looking for a good book to read, go read One Day (the movie's coming out with Anne Hathaway.  SO. GOOD.) 

.......staring jealously at the runners on the treadmills at the gym. 

Which may have caused a couple of them to think I'm a total creeper.

Yelling, "THAT'S MINE TREADMILL!" probably didn't help.