Say It Enough, You'll Start to Believe It
|
We are leaving shortly for a weekend long camping trip with friends. Our car is packed to the max, which kind of makes me feel like we’re doing camping wrong, but whatever. We’re not hiking to camp, so BRING ON THE CREATURE COMFORTS!
In lieu of an actual post, I thought I’d leave you with a little Jim Gaffigan for your weekend viewing. You can watch this, then laugh at us. Our sweet “K” has no idea what she’s in for…which makes this oddly even more exciting.
Happy Weekending!
UPDATE: When I set out to write this series of posts, I NEVER imagined it would be as popular as it has become. But in the almost year since I published this series, it’s gotten consistent traffic, and remains my highest trafficked post via Pinterest to date. So…
No, that’s not a typo – The book is a 30 Day Guide, not 31 Day Guide. I condensed the material into readable chapters, and organized it in a way that gives readers a comprehensive guide to writing and publishing in an easily digestible format.
I will be removing the posts from this space in an effort to preserve the integrity of the book, but as soon as the book goes live, I will include the link where you can purchase these posts for your online library.
My hope and desire it that people will be inspired to continue to create, to write, and ultimately, to author the words that float in their heads and hearts. I’m so honored to have you all on this journey with me. I hope that you will benefit in your career as a writer from the tips offered in 30 Days to Becoming an Author. For more information on the book, and for more Pinterest-worthy images to promote it, go to KelliStuart.com.
______________________________________________________________________________________
My sister-in-law, Becke’, frequently shares posts detailing some of her favorite things, so today I am going to follow her lead and share a few of my favorite things with you.
Because I know you’re dying to know about the things I love!
So without further ado:
1.) VIVO Per Lei facial products – Don’t they just sound fancy? A few months ago, I ran into the mall to pick up a couple of things, and as I walked by one of the center kiosks, a man pulled me aside. Now, normally I don’t stop when those people try to sell me things, but when someone with a romantic Italian accent says, “Excuse me? You are very beautiful. Can I show you a product that I think will further enhance your beauty?” IT’S HARD NOT TO STOP!
So I let him give me his pitch and show me his products and I tried to walk away because, as we all know, I have a mild major addiction to skin care products and being in close proximity to products made with Dead Sea Minerals was sending me into a dangerous downward spin of desire! Seeing that I was about to walk away empty handed, the handsome Italian, who also happens to be the owner of the company, handed me the soap and told me to try it for free.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said as he massaged lotion into my hand. I mentioned my book, and told him where it was set, and my friends do you know what happened?! That handsome Italian started speaking to me in Russian. I can’t make this stuff up. I hadn’t heard Russian in months and suddenly an Italian, raised in Germany and Israel, facial-ist to the stars, is speaking Russian to me in the middle of a mall in Tampa, Florida.
Y’all this stuff is amazing! It’s so amazing, I just wrote the word y’all! Do you hear the seriousness inside my voice?!
Thank you to my new Russian speaking Italian friend for introducing it to me. Visit the website to check out his products. They are some of the best I’ve ever tried, and I’ve tried a LOT. All the products are made with Dead Sea Minerals in Israel, which means they’re holy, right? I say right.
2.) My Macbook Air. Penny. I love her, and that is all.
3.) Wyler’s Chicken Noodle Soup starters. Random? Yes. But for a girl who doesn’t love to cook, I adore a meal that I can throw together in less than an hour and that all five people in my house will eat without complaint. Glory!
4.)We bought a Papasan chair from Pier 1 Imports a few weeks ago and it has become the most coveted seat in the house. We fight over it daily. In fact, I think it might have some magical powers, because my children all want to sit in it and read. My children who do not like to read. Magic, indeed.
5.) I bit the bullet and bought the Insanity program a couple of weeks ago. Now, confession – I do not love the workouts. They make me think, and sometimes say out loud, bad words. Plus, Shaun T keeps telling me to find my core and I want to scream at the TV, “I can’t! It disappeared when the third baby was born!”
These workouts are hard in an I-want-to-punch-someone-in-the-face sort of way. But I do love that after only a week, I already feel stronger and like I’m getting results. So this one is less love and more love-hate, but it still counts.
6.) Rain. It’s been raining for three straight days now, and while I’m getting slightly annoyed by all the falling water, I must say the sound of it hitting the window is lovely. It makes me want to curl up in the magic Papasan and read a good book.
Okay that’s all! Now I’m off to clean the house read a book in the Papasan. If you have any favorite things you think I should know about, please share in the comments. Particularly if it pertains to skin care products. That’s right – I just asked you to fuel my addiction.
Boom!
Happy Wednesday, y’all!
I’m bored with blogging.
Gasp!
I know! It’s like I just insulted my dearest friend and her mom in one fell swoop! I feel like I should buy the internet an “I’m So Sorry” bouquet of daisies and an Edible Arrangement to make up for what is clearly apathy and a bit of laziness on my part.
I think this is just a temporary lull in the old blogging Mojo. I sense that it will return to me at some point and that when it does you all will roar in delighted laughter and the internet will forgive my indiscretion and will sweetly ask me if I enjoyed my little jaunts away from the the glimmering screen.
To be clear, I’m not leaving the internet. I like her too much to walk away completely. But there are other delights calling me and I feel like I need to answer. I miss writing, and by writing I mean the art of getting lost in a story. It’s a funny thing, writing a novel. It’s like the longest, most mentally exhausting labor in the history of ever, and then when it’s all over, you look at this little creation in your hands and think, “Man. When can I do this again?!”
There are other issues that make blogging more of a challenge these days than they did in the days of yore. (Because the internet moves and changes and matures so quickly, it’s very easy to refer to two years ago as “Yore.” You understand.)
First, the kids are older and I just feel kind of squicky sharing all their secrets now. I mean, they’ve provided me with a truck load of stories lately. There’ve been some real humdingers, to be sure. But somehow it feels like those stories should be theirs to tell, not mine.
Well, okay. That’s not entirely true. Some of these moments I’m just saving up to share with their prom dates, at their wedding rehearsal dinners, or any other occasion when it feels appropriate to dig into my cache of awesome and give away these treasured stories that I hold. I just don’t want to tell the whole world every little thing any more.
I’m also (lean in close, now, so I can whisper this in your ear) kind of enjoying my long quiet days. When the kids get on the bus in the morning, I know they think I head into the house and weep softly, but I don’t. I put a little music in the iPod, grab the dog and shimmy my way through the neighborhood for a walk. I come back and enjoy a long shower without fear of someone walking in to tell me how deeply they’ve been offended by a protesting sibling. And when those two things are finished?
I sit at my computer and think, “Huh. I have all this time. I bet I could start making a little more money now.”
So I’ve been brainstorming ideas, writing, editing, querying agents and publishers, and talking with friends who are in need of a writer and have the funds to hire. Then I scoot over to my little corner of the web and dust her off a little, wishing I could give her more of myself.
That’s where I am. I’m here, but my brain is a few other places and my brain has never been very good at doing two things at once. I do have an upcoming project that I’m taking part in, though. I can’t give you all the details yet because…well, because I don’t have them. But I have a little teaser, a photo to show you something big, something HUGE, that we can all do together.
Check out ‘dem apples!
We’re going to be a part of this one big thing together, my friends, and this is a good thing. This is the sort of thing that makes the internet happy and makes me never, ever want to leave blogging ever because our words and actions are going to change the world.
This one big thing is something we can all be a part of. We can help make huge improvements to this amazing ministry from the comfort of our own homes, while still wearing our slippers! Glory!
So I’m not leaving. I’m staying. I’m just confessing that I know I’ve been a little stale, but the internet is quick to forgive and you all are so very patient while I work out the kinks of this new phase of life.
So hang with me just a little while longer? And if anyone would like to send me an Edible Arrangement, I’d happily accept it…on behalf of the internet, of course.
Peace out.
We are logging in the hours in ye old minivan right now. We’re giving her hawtness quite the workout driving her from here to there and back…twice. In the past week we have put roughly 32 hours in driving from Florida to Missouri to Arkansas with several stops in between. My kids are becoming quite the little road trippers.
Although Landon’s left eye does start twitching any time we mention getting in the car right now. I’m sure that’s merely a coincidence.
That much time in the car provides ample opportunity for memory making, both in conversation and in action. Right now the kids are obsessed – OBSESSED – with Teen Beach Movie so this means we hear the music a lot.
Lee’s eye starts twitching whenever the opening bars of Cruisin’ for a Bruisin’ start playing. So strange…
It’s the conversations that have given me the most delight, though. Two in particular are back and forth dialogues that I never, ever want to forget. And so, for posterity, and because I know you all want to laugh with me, I give you:
Tia: “Hey daddy?”
Lee: “Yes?”
“Tia: “I feel sorry for my friend from school, you know why?”
Lee: “Why?”
Tia: “Her parents were fighting and fighting so they separated and now she has to sometimes see her mommy and sometimes see her daddy. Isn’t that sad?”
Lee: “That is sad. I’m sorry that happened.”
Tia: “Will that ever happen to you and mommy?”
Lee: “No, baby. Your mommy and I work really, really hard on loving one another and making sure that we will always remain together as a family.”
Tia: “But sometimes you go away on trips. What if you don’t come back?”
Lee: “Well, sometimes I have to go away for a short time, but those are just business trips and you know what?”
Tia: “What?”
Lee: “When I’m away all I can think about is how much I want to be back with my family. I pray for you all while I’m gone that God would protect you and that He will protect me so I can get back to you. But I love your mom very much. She is the person I want to be with more than anyone else in the world so I don’t want you to worry about us ever separating okay?”
Tia: “Daddy?”
Lee: “Yes, baby?”
Tia: “That sign back there had underpants on it.”
Poignancy is completely lost on children.
********************************************************
Yesterday after church, we drove through Lee’s hometown.
Lee: “I had a girlfriend that lived on that street in high school.”
Sloan: “You had a girlfriend? Was she nice?”
Lee: “Yeah, she was a nice girl.”
Sloan: “Why did you break up with her?”
Lee: “Oh, you know. I just knew she wasn’t the girl I would spend forever with so there wasn’t any point in continuing the relationship.”
Sloan: “So you broke up with her and prayed that God would bring you your forever girl, and then you met mom, right?”
Lee: “Well, pretty much. I met mom a little while after that.”
Sloan: “Did mom have an afro back then?”
Lee: “She did. She did. She had an afro and she was also Korean.”
Sloan: “Oh…huh.”
You guys, if my kids don’t end up in counseling before age 30 it will be a miracle.
Happy Monday, all! May it be full of awesome and just enough random to keep you laughing. Oh and incidentally, my favorite part of road trips is when I look back and see this:
They’re just so CUTE when they sleep!
*wink*
We made it to San Juan de la Maguana last night around 10:00. It was quite the adventure. The Internet is spotty and I’m only able to get online on my phone so updates may be tough.
This is a beautiful country. We’re excited to be here and serve. Here we go!
Friends, we need to have a serious heart to heart.
If you were sitting in front of me, I’d hand you a steaming cup of chai, the cinnamon and spice wafting through the room as gentle, peaceful music played softly in the corner. We’d sit down, you and I, and we’d smile peacefully at one another. Then I’d tell you I have something to say, and the atmosphere would be so serene that you would hear my encouragement without any need to put up defenses. You’d see that I am genuinely concerned for your well-being, and that I am only looking out for what’s best for you.
So imagine that scene. I’ll give you a minute to pull the image together in your mind.
Ready? Okay, here it is.
It’s time we all acknowledged that leggings as pants are a bad idea.
I spent most of my day yesterday hopping from one plane to another, and I sat for some time in the Atlanta airport, one of the busiest airports in the world, and friends I was flabbergasted. I’ve watched as this “leggings as pants” style has slowly infiltrated our culture and I’ve been bemused. Most of the time I witnessed said fashion horror on twiggy teens who technically could pull it off. I’ve smiled because I know that someday their future children will pull out photo albums and see pictures of their “Emo” parents all decked out in leggings, a t-shirt and converse, and they will roll laughing. (They just might LOL...)
But what I saw in the airport took this fashion oddity to a whole new level. Women, all ages and sizes, strolled through the airport with nothing but black cotton leggings painted on their legs. Some wore longer t-shirts over the leggings, but most did not. It was like they started getting dressed and half way through the process they just…gave up.
Ladies, leggings are super cute. I have a couple pairs of them. They are darling…underneath a kicky skirt or a sassy little dress. They are an accessory – they are not the main item of clothing. They’re an undergarment. Honestly, I saw only one person yesterday who really, truly rocked the leggings. She was 2. That is the only time in life that leggings as pants are acceptable (and really encouraged because diaper bottom through leggings? Adorable.)
Every era has a style they regret. You know it’s true. The ’80’s have an entire closet full of unfortunate fashions. I’m simply here to be a voice of reason for us all. I’m trying to spare you the unfortunate embarrassment of pictures that forever plague you. Pictures of you in leggings…worn as pants. You may disagree, but if you take my advice, even reluctantly, you will someday thank me….as will everyone else in the world.
Let’s unite together as one and fight this unfortunate trend. We will raise our fists together, a sign of solidarity, as we boldly proclaim LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS!
Who’s with me? Let’s spread the word – #LeggingsAreNotPants
For more on unfortunate airport wear, and for advice on how to avoid poor clothing choices, visit my friend Nicole’s recent post. I let out a hearty “Amen” or four when I read it.
Between end of the year craziness (Yes, we’re still in school because apparently Florida hates children) and a tropical depression that has settled on top of us (it’s like a cruel joke to have to get up and out to school on a day when it’s dark and steadily raining – I think Mother Nature is mad at Florida…probably for hating kids), I just don’t have any decent blog posts in me.
But I have pictures and I have an old blog post that still makes me laugh…and cringe. Pictures first:
Remember when Landon looked like this?
Yesterday I went to his end of the year preschool program where they had those babies in caps and gowns and I almost died from the cute. This is my Landon now:
At one point the preschool director got up and started talking about how we only have 13 years left with these kids at home and how quickly that time will go and I briefly envisioned throwing a shoe at her, but I refrained because that would be inappropriate.
But for real.
To make this post just a little more random and to not tie it together at all, I’m going to leave you with a post that I originally published in October 2010. I wrote this after a rather unfortunate incident that occurred upon cleaning out my minivan.
______________________________________
Saturday night found Lee and I in the minivan, kids in tow, heading out to the mattress store to purchase two new mattresses. Never mind that the kids desperately needed them. Never mind that Tia’s mattress was so cheap that is was literally falling apart and becoming a potential hazard. Never mind that both mattresses had been peed on so many times they could be deemed a health code violation. Never mind any of those things. The fact is simply this:
I went out on Saturday evening to buy mattresses and thought it was fun.
Hi, my name is Kelli and I am a bona fide minivan mom.
Ah, but we haven’t even got to the best part of the story. What? Surely you know there would be more to this story than the fact that I had a hoot buying twin mattresses on a Saturday night, right? A hoot!
It was the incident that occurred when we returned home that sent my world aspinnin’. It started simple. We came home so Lee could drop the kids and I off and return to the mattress store to pick up our most exciting purchases. We had to remove the car seats and fold down the back seats and clean up a bit. And it was during this event that I began to question my entire identity.
The title of my blog is Minivans Are Hot. With the operative word being Hot. I know, I know…Minivan and Hot together in a sentence is an oxymoron. And most days I would beg to differ and would launch into a diatribe about how it’s sexy to be a mom and how minivan moms have it goin’ on and I would work my hardest to convince you that I was right. Until Saturday night…
What I found in the back seat of my minivan was anything but Hot. Let’s start with what I found under the seat, shall we? It was sticky…it was brown…it had flecks of leaves and dirt stuck to it. What was that?!
From there I removed the kids car seats to find enough dried, crumbled food to feed a small pack of wild baboons. It was sealed into the lining of the seat fabric and had to be scraped out with my fingernail. *heave* Don’t even get me started on what I found in their seats.
But the piece de resitance came when I crawled into the way back and looked inside the cup holder. It is here that I gasped, looked at my husband and exclaimed, “Gross! This is why minivans are NOT. HOT.” Then I clutched my chest with the gravity of my statement and fell in dramatic Disney Princess fashion onto the seat, the back of my hand against my forehead…
No I didn’t. That last part didn’t happen – mostly because I wouldn’t want to lay on those seats for $100. Maybe for $1000, though.
In the cup holder sat dried, crusted, molded bread. It appears my children are stock piling food in the back seat of our minivan in the event that a giant meteor should come crashing down to earth and we need to seek shelter inside the car for a significant amount of time. It also appears that they have eaten portions of a sandwich and then shoved the remaining portion in the cup holder and have, every day for who knows how long, been looking at this rotting sandwich and ignoring it.
It’s like I’m raising little cave people!
I promptly dug out the rot and marched to the trash can. My husband, sensing my impending melt down went dashing for the Shop Vac in the basement. Being the super hero that he is, he spent the next half hour sucking the muck out of our minivan while I went inside and lectured my children on the importance of throwing away rotten food. I also tried to talk myself out of changing my blog title from Minivans Are Hot to Minivans Are A Place Where Horrors grow Beneathe the Seats and in the Cupholders While You Yourself Obliviously Drive From Here to There Thinking You Are Looking Fine When Really You Are Controlling a Moving Science Experiment.
But in typical Hero fashion, my man came inside just as I was certain that my entire online identity was going to have to be realtered and yelled “Ta-Da!” I walked outside to see the seats clean (hey look! The fabric’s grey…) The cup holders clean…er. They still have a sticky substance that I can only assume will need to be chisled out at some point (probably just before we decide to sell the car). And it smelled much more pleasant too. It was actually quite nice in there.
I smiled at him and jumped into his arms. Small birds flitted about our heads as he spun me around and when we kissed little animated hearts floated up into the dusky sky.
Alright…that last part didn’t happen either. Sometimes I wish I lived in a cartoon.
Despite the cleanliness of my car, however, I couldn’t shake the fact that I had outwardly acknowledged the un-hotness of my minivan. And so I’m here to retrain my mind. And if any of you are having a hard time believeing that Minivans Are Hot like I am, then why don’t you join in with me as we repeat the mantra over and over.
Minivans are hot, minivans are hot, minivans are hot, minivans are not, minivans are not…
NONONONONO!!!!
Let’s try again.
Minivans are hot, minivans are hot, minivans are hot…
Do you believe it?
For years (and by years I seriously mean Y-E-A-R-S) I’ve dropped subtle and not so subtle hints at my longing for a Mac laptop. I’ve casually slipped it into conversation.
“Hey, Babe, dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Checked out the new MacBook Air’s lately? Nice, huh?”
It was subtle, simple – understated.
I’ve passed by the Apple store in the mall and sighed longingly, not saying a word. Just sighing. I mean, I could have been thinking anything really, but I secretly hoped the true message would be interpreted correctly.
I’ve held up checks I receive in the mail and proudly declared that “this here $35.00 is going straight into my I-need-a-Mac fund. Now let’s see here, if I pull in $35.00/month, it should take me this long to save all I need. I am on my way, baby!”
I’ve watched one PC die to motherboard failure after just a year and a half and I calmly took over the other PC, which runs loudly and heatedly the second you open her as if she’s screaming for retirement. She was pushing two and a half years, which as we all know is 94 in PC years. I was waiting impatiently for her to kick the bucket so we would be without excuse given that a computer is necessary for me to work and all.
Lee took the kids out birthday shopping on Saturday. As I have with every other birthday and Christmas for the last four years, I held out a tiny, secret hope that they’d come home with the coveted Mac. But we were headed out to a dinner party that night and the Apple store is a solid 30 minutes drive from the house and by the time they left I knew they wouldn’t have time to drive to Apple and back home.
So I waited patiently for the shirt I was certain they’d buy me and I continued to scheme ways I could gather the funds needed to buy myself a new computer that didn’t sputter and hack each time I fired it up.
They walked in about an hour later, the kids all grins. Sloan held something behind his back and offered up some cock and bull story about all the stores being closed and no present for me and I played along, but inside I was all C’mon, just let me see my new t-shirt.
And then they pulled out a box that said MAC on the side and I had a small heart attack and dug myself out of the chair with a loud “THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN A T-SHIRT!”
Everyone, meet my new computer. Her name is Penelope, but you can call her Penny for short. She very hipster. I feel like I should stock up on trendy glasses now and only drink Venti non-fat, extra-hot, extra-foam, no whip Starbucks lattes. I briefly considered tossing my yoga pants because I fear they would offend Penny, but then I decided, nah. Penny is a progressive and completely modern hipster. She’s totally jive with the yoga pants, but I should probably pair them with a trendy head wrap and a scarf…and possibly a ring on my thumb and pointer finger. I’ll probably throw on a pair of skinny jeans now and then, though. I don’t want to embarrass Penny or anything.
Ah, Penny just giggled. I made her laugh…
Now, if Penny could kindly explain all her little gadgety functionability to me, it would be greatly appreciated. There are a couple of buttons I’m afraid to push because, you know, WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?! (I think one of them might control China. I’m not certain, but it seems entirely plausible.)
So I’m off to play around, push buttons (sorry China) and see if I can’t figure this thing out a bit. In the meantime, tell me – do you have a Mac? What is your favorite thing about it? What is the one thing you think I should know as I start to figure this all out?
I am 34 years old. I can only say that for six more days. If anyone tries to say I’m 35 before next Tuesday I will kick him in the shins. Last week Lee said something about how my 36th birthday was coming up. I beat him for it.
The same day my mom sent me a text and said, “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to do a big spa trip when you turn 40 and I turn 65?” There were a few things wrong with that text – first, I AM ONLY 34! Can we not discuss 40 yet?
Also, I will only be 38 when she turns 65! *throws hands up in exasperation*
So, yeah. I’m about to officially be in my mid-thirties. An argument could probably be made for the fact that 34 is technically already the mid-thirties, but that’s not a conversation any of us need to have at this point. Because I don’t want to talk about it.
Crystal clear?
Now I can say there are some perks to aging, one of them being the benefit of laughing at pictures of yourself in years past. Enough time has gone by now for old pictures of me to be wildly hysterical, mainly because I grew up in the ’80’s and, you know…it was the ’80’s. So to commemorate me getting old(er), here are a few pictures from ages past and bygone styles.
You’re welcome.
1985: The partial mullet.
1986: The Very Loud Button-Down
1987: Denim on Denim and feathered bangs.
1988: Units belt, High tops with layered socks, Esprit Bag, Side Ponytail. I was ROCKING 5th grade.
1989: I discovered the crimping iron. Oh yes I did…
I blame this photo on a number of things: My parents, Jazz Dance and the ’80’s.
1991-ish with remnants of the ’80’s clinging on.
1992: The year of the Coolats (sp?), AKA 7th Grade, AKA The year I grew into my nose…
1995: Calming down a bit in the fashion department. Thankfully for all of us I couldn’t find any pictures from 9th grade, which was a particularly tragic year of fashion for me. Think Sun-In meets short shorts meets way too much make up.
I’m also missing several pictures that document those years when I fondly (read: obsessively) wore over-sized flannel shirts. I also had a deep love for overalls my senior year of high school, but then we all did. Don’t act like you didn’t wear them, too…
1999: Rocking the short overalls and a hottie on my arm.
And, of course, there were about 6 years there when I wore babies. I actually miss those years…
My current fashion of choice is yoga pants. I’m kind of kidding and kind of serious. I really love yoga pants. But I don’t want to get completely lost in the hole of my mid-thirties so I try to lose the yoga pants whenever possible and upgrade to something super fashionable…like a skort. And if I’m feeling particularly ambitious, I might even put on a pair of skinny jeans.
But then I spend the day feeling like I’m slowly suffocating to death.
My kids are going to have a field day making fun of me some day…
Here’s to many more years of fashion, both good and bad.
|
Recent Comments