Pin It!

So like 12 million other people, I’ve become quite the fan of Pinterest. I think I’m a fairly creative person, but Pinterest usually leaves me wondering, “Why didn’t I think of that?” So after countless repins, and creating my own boards–I’ve actually started to make my own variations of things I’ve seen on there, and I’m going to share one of them with you today.

I wanted to make some sort of centerpiece for my sister’s baby shower and decided to go with a onesie bouquet of sorts. Here’s the materials that I used:

4 smaller sand pails (found at Target for $1 a piece)
12 onesies any colors (6 my sister already had, 6 I bought at a secondhand store for about $1 a piece)
Floral wire
Fake flowers any colors (I bought 6 bouquets with 6-8 flowers in each bouquet at Jo-Ann’s for $9)
Floral foam (bought 4 at Hobby Lobby for $5)
Clear scrapbook stickers any kind (bought 2 at Hobby Lobby for $4)
Mini pinwheels (bought 4 at Hobby Lobby for $4)

Start by decorating your pail. I used baby boy scrapbook stickers and I think they look better having a clear backing, rather than a white backing. The pails could have remained undecorated also–personal preference.

Next, take a onesie, lay it flat and fold the sides in like the photo below. Then simply start rolling. I personally think it’s easier if you start with the snaps and roll up towards the neck. It’s also much easier if your cotton is somewhat thin.

Then, pick one of the ends to be your “bloom.” This may take a few minutes but just experiment with it. Try folding back the onesie, or pull out some of the fabric, and try to make it look like a flower. It will work! Then secure your rolled onesie by wrapping floral wire about 3/4 of the way down (this allows the wire to remain unseen). I also like floral wire better than floral tape because I think it’s easier to work with. I opted to put 3 onesies into a pail, and below is what my rolled onesies look like.

Now, place your floral foam into the bottom of the bucket and use the adhesive patch to make it stick. I like the dome shape that the one below provided. Place your onesies on top of the foam and then begin filling in with the fake flowers.

Once you’ve filled in with your fake flowers, it should look something like this.

I’ve made three of these so far and am pretty pleased with the way they’ve turned out. They only cost about $8 a centerpiece to make which is FAR cheaper than it would have been to do flowers or balloons. I’m slowly, but surely becoming a do-it-myselfer and I’m a big fan. It still bothers me sometimes that I can’t come up with the ideas on my on, but if I can at the very least implement them and put my own spin on it–I’m good with that. Until next time…happy pinning!

A Golden Anniversary

Yesterday my grandparents celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversary, which is quite the accomplishment. I read somewhere that of all the married couples in the world, only about 5% of them even make it to 50 years. Obviously sometimes one of them passes away before the milestone is reached, but in the world we live in now—where over 50% of marriages end in divorce, 50^th wedding anniversaries are becoming less and less common.

They were married in 1962 when a gallon of gas was a quarter and you could buy a new home for $15,000. Grandma was 19, grandpa was 20 and his mom basically had to sign a permission slip stating it was okay for them to be married. Grandpa’s first job was at a dairy where he brought home $50 a week.  Grandma’s first job was at a newspaper and together they built this life that 50 years later everyone is overjoyed to be a part of.

They have three amazing sons, and raised them in such a way that their sons’ families are now filled with the same love and respect that was bestowed upon them growing up. Those sons  have in turn raised their own families—giving grandma and grandpa 11 grandchildren. It’s now to the point where those grandchildren are having children of their own and have blessed grandma and grandpa with three great-grandchildren, with a fourth one on the way.

I can’t imagine what it must be like to be grandma and grandpa. To sit at the party we had for them last night and know that half of the room is there because you created them. To have watched your children grow into such fine men, and watch them raise their children in a way that mimics the way you raised them—I can’t imagine that there is a more proud moment in a person’s life than seeing your own children raise THEIR children to be loving, caring, honest, God-fearing adults.

One time I asked grandma and grandpa separately what it takes to make it work. Grandma’s response was lots and lots of patience. Grandpa’s was to always remember to laugh—and if you knew what a jokester grandpa is—both of their responses make complete and total sense. I suspect that it also takes a whole lot of hard work, a whole lot of love, a whole lot of communication, and a whole lot of truth also.

I don’t know if I’ll make it to a 50^th wedding anniversary or not, and I don’t say that because I don’t intend to make my marriage work—I simply say that because any one of us can leave this world in the blink of an eye. I do know this though. I have one heck of an example of how to get there in my grandparents—and if I can be even half as successful as they’ve been in their marriage and in the raising of their kids—then my life should end up being a pretty damn good one.

8 Years in the Making

Yesterday marked the eight year anniversary of my OWI, or DUI, or DWI—whatever you want to call it. This immediately means two things in my head. 1) Unless I’m mistaken it should no longer be on my record, and 2) I’m old.

In the past eight years I’ve lived in Memphis, Ankeny, Des Moines, and Ames. I’ve been in three relationships, one of which I’m still in. I’ve been to a countless number of weddings, I’ve been to five funerals, and have held my fair share of newborn babies. I’ve had five different jobs, have lived in 10 different residences within those four cities, and have lived with 13 different people.

I claim to be somewhat resistant to change, but those stats up above would indicate otherwise. Maybe I’m not as resistant as originally thought? Here’s what I do know though. In the past eight years, I’ve learned a lot. Some of it’s been bad, some of it’s been good—but all of it has taught me something.

• Putting plastic on your windows in the winter really does lower your energy costs.
• Some people are just mean and will do anything to hold another human being down.
• Nothing good happens after midnight.
• Relationships, and not just romantic ones, require work.
• Any job, crappy or not, is made 100 times better if you work with awesome people.
• I used to take my parents for granted.
• You can wear jeans a good three times before they actually need to be washed.
• We don’t always get what we want, but we always get what we need.
• Roommates can create one hell of a support system.
• There’s no BBQ like Memphis BBQ and the best ribs are at Blues City Café.
• Bartenders on Beale Street are not looking for conventional relationships.
• Having one DUI doesn’t necessarily stop one from driving drunk.
• Iowa has a lot more going for it than pigs and corn.
• Falling out of touch with people is far easier than it should be.
• It’s strangely odd and comforting at the same time to live in the city you went to college in.
• Cable and internet companies are highly technologically advanced scam artists.
• Pets have an uncanny ability to know exactly when you need some company.
• Somewhere in your mid-20’s it becomes unattractive to get sloppy drunk.
• There’s no shame in going to bed at 10pm (or earlier).
• If you don’t respect yourself, you give others no reason to respect you.

All right. So those are just a few random things I’ve learned in my travels. I may be older, but I’m not always wiser. I’ll readily admit to you that there are times I still drive after having too much to drink. I can be quite impatient at times which causes me to get irrationally annoyed. I don’t stand up for myself like I should in any situation, and even if it’s justified I try to avoid confrontation.

I know all of that though—and eight years ago, I probably wouldn’t have admitted any of it. I don’t know if I’m where I’m going to end up. I thought that in Memphis, and I thought that in Ankeny and Des Moines—and I think it now, in Ames. What I do know is that right now, I’m right where I’m supposed to be and I’m good with that. That place is a half hour from my parents and five minutes from my sister. It’s close to a lot of my friends and it’s where my boyfriend is. That place is filled with love and that’s all any of us really need. On top of all of that, I have a clean driving record—what more could a girl ask for?

Starting Over (Week 2)

So I’m a week behind here and my apologies for that. I was going to try and be ambitious and write two blogs this past Friday, but that didn’t pan out so well—and Good Friday trumped my weight loss story.

Next week’s may be a little late too because we’re headed to Chicago today for the White Sox home opener and will be there until Sunday. I’ll see what I can do about making a blog happen, especially since I have big plans to work out at the hotel.

Week 1: April 2-April 6
Hours spent in gym: 3
Weight Lost: -2 pounds
Total Weight Loss to Date: 2 pounds

Yes that’s right. Last week, I actually GAINED two pounds, which is odd considering I did exactly what I’ve been doing and didn’t eat like crap, but here’s the thing. Some exercises I’m doing are starting to get easier, so I guess the gain doesn’t have me real discouraged.

I know from the first time around that losing weight is not easy, and that it absolutely becomes a lifestyle choice. It’s not something you can do half of the time and expect to see results. You either commit to it, or you don’t—I don’t know that there’s any such thing as a half commitment?

I have found that it’s quite possible I hadn’t been eating enough, so I’m really trying to implement snacks throughout the day—especially in the afternoon. I had gotten in the habit of eating my lunch later to break up my day better—but as a result I’d find that by the time I’d eat, I was STARVING, and you’re actually not supposed to let yourself get to that point.

I’ve also learned that sometimes all I actually need is water, and oddly enough I’ve started to not mind water. I’m going to make a pretty silly statement here, but in the past I’ve always had issues drinking water because it doesn’t taste. I try to drink a 20 ounce bottle here at work every hour—I do pretty good in the morning, but as the day goes on I slow down. And if I’m busy at work, it’s like I forget I even have water on my desk—so I need to be better about that.

All in all, I’m okay with what happened last week. I know I need to work harder than I am, and I’m okay with that. It’s been a busy past couple of weeks and after this one, things go back to something that should resemble normalness and then? Well. Then it’s on.

Life in the Fasting Lane

This past weekend I did something I’ve never done before. I went without food for 66 hours. From Thursday night at 6pm until noon on Sunday. Some of you know exactly why—but for those of you who don’t…we fasted for Easter.

People fast for all different reasons, but it seems especially common during Easter. The thought behind it is that Jesus went through an unbelievable amount of pain and suffering to help us, and on some very small level giving up something we’ve come to depend on helps us to not forget that.

It was hard initially, but as the time wore on, it was like my body adapted to not having food. Hunger pains came and went, but on Sunday morning I woke up not hungry one bit. It heightened my awareness of things though, because when you don’t have to worry about relying on food, you direct your attention elsewhere—and during Easter weekend, the focus became the reason for Easter. Jesus.

Throughout the course of the weekend I kept a fasting diary of sorts. Below you can read how things went.

Friday, April 6
8:01am                 Talked to Bill. He asks if I’m hungry yet. I’m not.
10:33am               Sent Bill a text. “Okay. NOW I’m hungry.”
12:37pm               I walk to the post office and hear the Jimmy John’s on the corner summoning me.
12:49pm               I walk to Kum & Go and buy chocolate milk instead.
2:05pm                 Holy crap. I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten in 19 hours.
2:37pm                 I’ve now consumed 104 fluid ounces. I’ve never gone the bathroom this much. Ever.
5:16pm                 We start our trek home. At least we don’t have to stop for snacks.
7:00pm                 Attend the Good Friday service at Prairie Lakes Church.
8:46pm                 Friends have gotten together and are at the bar. Perfect. We stop by.
10:12pm               We arrive at Bill’s mom’s house. Day 1 is in the books.

Saturday, April 7
10:47am               I wake up. Longer I sleep the less I have to worry about hunger apparently.
1:22pm                 We go to a 50^th wedding anniversary where there are HUGE pieces of cake.
1:58pm                 Stop by the grocery store to get things for Easter dinner. I want a piece of pie.
2:32pm                 We watch several episodes of Friday Night Lights which seems to help.
7:04pm                 We watch the Passion of the Christ and I am moved to tears multiple times.
9:32pm                 Couple more episodes of FNL. Day 2 is in the books.

Sunday, April 8
7:16am                 Get up to get ready for church. Strangely, I’m not hungry.
9:00am                 Attend Easter Sunday service at Prairie Lakes Church and am moved to tears.
11:28am               Visit Bill’s grandpa in the nursing home.
12:30pm               Easter Sunday dinner is served—the fast is over.

Bill asked me if I would’ve cried Saturday night and Sunday morning if I hadn’t been fasting—and I don’t know the answer to that, because I’ve never fasted during Easter so I don’t really have a point of reference. I can tell you this though. Sunday morning, in church, I’d never felt Easter like that before. There’s only been one other service I’ve ever cried at, and oddly enough it was the Good Friday service last year.

This past weekend took the focus off of our own needs and allowed us to focus on the bigger things at hand. Namely, how the death and resurrection of one person has now saved all of us and He has asked nothing of us in return except that we allow Him to work in our lives and do our very best to honor Him.

Next year, I invite you to fast with us. It’s not as hard as you might think it to be, although it is a little overwhelming at first. I’m not sure what kind of experience you’ll have with it, but at the very least you’ll get your fair share of water.

The Ultimate Sacrifice

How many of us can really, truly say that in our lives we’ve made sacrifices? And when I say sacrifice I’m not talking about leaving the last piece of cheesecake for someone else. Or guys—letting your gals watch last night’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy even though you wanted to watch coverage of the Master’s.

I’m talking real life, hard to make, sacrifices. The kind that keep you up at night when trying to decide if you’re going to make them or not. The kind that you make for the greater good, the kind that more than likely is going to make things harder in the short term.

Looking back on my life, I can honestly say that I don’t know if I’ve ever been faced with having to make a really huge sacrifice. When I took the job I have now I suppose I sacrificed some financial independence, but taking the job was really a no brainer when put up against how unhappy I had gotten to be at the previous one. I’ve been through some stuff in my life, but in terms of sacrifice—I haven’t had to give up a whole lot.

Today is Good Friday—a day that for Christians symbolizes the ultimate sacrifice. It’s the day that God sent his only son to the cross to die for all of man’s sins. He sent his son to suffer the worst death imaginable, so that the rest of us could live.

I’m not going to go into some long drawn out story about Good Friday because even non-active churchgoers go to church on Easter and know the story of the crucifixion, and the people who aren’t churchgoers at all don’t care to know the story. What I am going to do is ask you to take pause for just a minute and answer this question. Could you have done it? If you had the power to save others by sacrificing the one person you cared about more than anyone else in the world, could you do it?

I honestly don’t know that I could have and I don’t think there’s any shame in admitting that. When you stop and think about who God was saving versus who had to die in order to save them—there’s no way. We as humans are a pretty crappy people, and have been that way ever since the fall in the garden. We’re sinful by nature and the fact that God would choose to send his only son to die so that we might live is something I still can’t fathom.

Thousands of years ago, on this very day, Jesus was crucified. To some, that may not mean anything. But to others, including myself, today set us on a course that would lead us to eternal life. Some of you don’t believe that and that’s absolutely okay—but for those of us that do—remember that. It’s so easy to lose sight of things sometimes. We get so bogged down in our own stuff that it’s easy to forget what had to take place in order for us to be granted salvation.

But today, remember. If you forget every other day of the year, fine—but remember on this day.

Money, Money, Money

I want money, lots and lots of money. I want the pie in the sky. Remember that song? I think the guy was a one hit wonder, but that’s neither here nor there. And it’s not so much that I want lots and lots of money, it’s that I need a little bit more than I have now.

For those of you who don’t know, or don’t remember—about 8 months ago or so I took a new job and in the process took a pretty hefty pay cut. You can read about that whole thing here. So why’d I do it, you ask? My sanity, basically. The job I held previously had sucked the life out of me. Damn near every day I went to that job with a chip on my shoulder and usually nothing happened during the day to knock that chip off—in fact, usually very much the opposite.

So I found a new job, one that I happen to like very much. People always say that you should do what you love and I couldn’t agree more. It seems to me though, that the jobs we’d love to do pay a whole lot less than the jobs we hate to do—so it puts us in a tough spot. There’s a lot to be said about happiness and when you consider the average American will work over 100,000 hours in their lifetime, there’s even more to be said about liking what you do. BUT…how much can you enjoy what you do if you can’t make ends meet? If that’s the case, what do you do? Love your job, but struggle financially? Or sell out and become like millions of other Americans who are completely dissatisfied with their jobs, but are able to pay their bills? Therein lies the rub.

I don’t know the answer to tell you the truth. All I know is that it’s unbelievably frustrating to have to pick and choose which bills are going to get paid late. And God forbid some unexpected expense should occur. I am very well aware that money isn’t everything—I’ve had too little for too long to think anything but that. Those of you who know me, know that I’m not greedy, and I don’t spend frivolously. In fact, what I do have I tend to want to use for other people’s good and not my own.

So this whole thing isn’t me throwing some giant pity party—it’s more just me trying to talk through this whole thing and I thought maybe some of you could relate. Some of you probably can’t, and if that’s the case—more power to you. It’s just that I’m 29 years old, with a college education, and some pretty kick ass work experience—and it’s just frustrating to be in this boat.

Here’s the thing though. I really, truly believe that each and every one of us is exactly where we’re supposed to be for some reason or another. In fact I saw a quote today that said, “I may not have ended up where I intended to go, but I think I’ve ended up where I needed to be.”

I’m blessed. Plain and simple. I have an amazing family. Amazing friends. An amazing boyfriend. A boyfriend who put it all into perspective when he channeled Morgan Freeman’s character from The Shawshank Redemption last night. He said, “You either get busy livin, or you get busy dyin.’” Then he told me, “And at least you’re not in jail.” And in spite of the funk I was determined to be in last night, after I got off the phone, I chuckled a little bit—because he was right (don’t tell him that though). At least I’m not in jail—or in other words, things can always be worse. And you know what? If they should happen to get worse, I’ll still be surrounded by amazingness which is a lot more than some people have.