Peek into my wonderfully crazy world from my snarky perspective. If you have kids, you can probably relate. If you don’t, heed my warning. Don’t. (Just kidding! I love my kids … I love my kids…)
July 22, 2017: My Children Inspire Me
So what you may ask inspires me? What inspires me to create a unique and crafty shelf or entirely re-do a table top? My children constantly inspire me. However, it’s not my unconditional love for them (although I do love them, I swear) or their beautiful dirt-creased faces that continue to inspire my newest rustic creations. When I look at my house (sometimes I squint so it’s not so painful to look at) and then I look at them (usually leaving a trail of spilled milk and cheerios) I think to myself, “What can’t they reach?” And that my friends is where I draw my inspiration for my next project. I think my style has slowly evolved to one of minimalism. Minimal decor, de-cluttered shelves, purging furniture. But it’s not out of my high sense of fashion, but out of sheer necessity and damage control. No more books displayed, no pictures on shelves (lower than 3 feet or within climbing range), and definitely no more candles. Thanks kids.
July 17, 2017:
One Time We Went to the County Fair One Time
As a country kid growing up the local county fair was THE event. It was our annual, week-long, hot and dusty celebration of everything good and country. Tractor pulls, horse shows, animal barns, questionably stable amusement park rides, and food that you’ll remember for the next week (and not because it was so good). So this year my girls are 2.5 and I thought, this is the year. They’re ready. They love animals, they love rides, and they love fries. I’m going to share my childhood love for the fair with my daughters. Pass down the country legacy to my city kids. What could go wrong? Well, apparently a lot. Even though the bag was packed with gummies, chewy bars, and ice-cold water it wasn’t enough. I should clarify, 50% of my kids had a great time. A very long two hours later I not-so-gracefully carried my wild child, kicking, biting, and screaming out of the fair similar to how you might carry a hog-tied pig. If you were there then you might have confused her for one of the animals, but yes she was all mine. You also might have seen the tantrum getting into the car. That was also mine. In hindsight, it might be better to keep my childhood treasures to myself for a little longer.