Wordless Wednesday

May I present to you, the gift my amazing husband came home with on Friday night. After 12 years of declaring himself anti-cat, he decided to surprise me. 

Meet Bella

She was very skittish and scared of the world on Friday night (of course).  We explained to the boys that it would take a few days for her to settle in a little and let them hold her. 

Not so. She woke on Saturday morning with some attitude and some (virtual) balls! Girl's not scared of anything. :)  She's almost 8 weeks old, she's mostly toilet trained (just the one accident - in Joel's office. It's like she's trying to get me into trouble).  She is cheeky though.  How do we stop her from attacking hands and feet.  We know she's just trying to play, but I don't want her thinking it's ok for her to bite every single person who visits us with hands. Most of them have them, you see.  I don't want to be mean to her, but I'd like to discourage this behaviour. (She has plenty of toys, which she loves, as well as a scratching post/'fort', as one of the boys described it).


Either way. Am in love. Almost as much as Alexander is.  Not quite though. I don't think anyone ever loved anything more.

Have a good hump day.


Linking up with Trish for Wordless Wednesday.

*Quick note about Joel.  Doctor feels it is probably not a complex migraine after all. He thinks Joel's had a small bleed on the brain. I'd have preferred a migraine, clearly.  He has an neurologist appointment at lunch time, and an MRI. We'll see. 

The election is only a week away.

I can't believe there's only a week or so before the election. I've been following this for the past year and a half, with yet another super-long primary season. But here we are, the home stretch. Romney and Obama are left with just the final sprint home.

It's been an unusually close election campaign - I've been surprised to see Romney not only close in the polls, but at times leading. I confess, I'm not entirely sure which way Americans will vote on Tuesday. And I'm particularly nervous about it.

I'd always thought of Hollywood being primarily Liberal - staunchly supporting a democratic candidate. Barack Obama has seemed particularly close to a lot of celebrities, with many endorsements coming his way.

But while Hollywood endorsements often make news, they aren't necessarily representative of what the rest of the country is thinking. And in this election, there are a lot of important issues at stake. So it's nice to finally find an election video that cuts through all of the political double talk and reminds us all of what's really at stake.

Joss Whedon for Mitt Romney.

What else can we do?

Hard

We're all struggling a bit. Koko (Dad's wife) is staying with us.  She has dementia. While we're doing really well, she and I for the most part, it is still exhausting. She cannot remember conversations literally a minute after she's had them. So for 7 days now (today is Day 8) I have had to care for her in a way that's more intense than caring for either of my children.  She needs help showering, brushing her teeth, taking her medications. Convincing her to do these things, as well as eating, drinking and changing her clothes are things that I have to be thinking about a lot.  

I don't mind. She's family, and you simply do this for family. But I'm tired.  I've been in a particularly bad period, as far as pain goes. And normally I would rest up while the boys are in school and kindy. But right now, unless Koko is asleep, it's not possible.  And it's not really possible while she is asleep, because she doesn't sleep well. It's extremely erratic, and she frequently wakes very upset and confused about where she is.

The boys aren't doing so well.  Sam's behaviour has taken a turn for the worse. His attitude is incredibly upsetting at the moment. And he is literally losing his voice because for the past 2-3 days he has either raged or cried himself hoarse. 

Alexander (9) has started wetting the bed at night. For the first time since he was 3. It's just been a couple of nights, but it's not normal at all. (This will probably be deleted in a couple of days, for his sake). He has developed a new 'twitch', for want of a better word. He's started walking in circles, very quickly and on his toes. I don't know why, or what purpose it serves him. But it's only been in the past few days. He doesn't seem to be able to stop. Every time we are still (usually when we're out, and we stop walking for a minute or two) he starts up. 

Dad isn't healing well at all. He's struggling with a lot of pain, and a surgeon who won't believe him when he says that Endone (Oxycodone) simply isn't the drug for him.  It's not working. He doesn't want more of it, or something stronger (which is what the Doctor seems to think), he wants to try something different. He wants to attempt perhaps some Panadeine Forte and some Nurofen or something. But they have said no every day.  So I went in last night and sat down with the nurse in charge and told them how unhappy I was.  His state of mind is deteriorating, he's become extremely depressed and frustrated. He feels he's not being listened to.  The Doctor lectured him and said "You should have been out of here days ago", but his physiotherapist told him that if they can't get on top of the pain, his muscles simply won't respond.  (He had a complete knee reconstruction, with a rod also placed down his leg). It seems that the muscles around his knee had atrophied, and they weren't allowing the knee to bed post surgery (the surgery was on Monday morning last week). So he wasn't able to get even a 5% bend in his knee. They've had him on a machine (about 10 hours a day, starting at 5.30 am. He stops for lunch/bathroom/dinner, a rest in the afternoon etc, then gets back on.  He is on it until about 9pm at night). It raises his leg by a certain degree every second or two - up and down.  He has progressed at this point up to about 65%. But he's been at 65% for 2 days - the pain won't let it go further at all. 

So, needless to say, the past week or so has been a little stressful for me, and to be honest, I don't do stress all that well.  I thought we were doing ok though until last night. 

Joel developed a headache while we were in at the hospital last night. He had been 'off' all day. I couldn't put my finger on it, and he couldn't see it, but his mood was strange all day. He was irritable and withdrawn and could 'smell' something that noone else could smell all day.  We went in to the hospital at about 3.30/4.00 and had dinner with Dad in the restaurant. By about 6.30 Joel had a headache. By 7.30 when we left, his face was tingling. 

Joel's been having migraines for years now, since he was about 16 (co-incidentally, about the same time I started getting mine). He's had complex migraines a few times in the past 3 years though. The first one terrified us, we thought he was having a stroke. 

By 7.30, we knew he had a migraine and that it was going to be fairly bad. By the time we got home at 8.30, his face was tingling, his lip was numb and his hand was starting to have some paralysis. Around 9 though, it took a turn for the terrifying.  

Have you seen this video? It went viral a year or two ago.  A reporter had what appeared to be a stroke on television.

It started innocently enough.  He tried to say he wanted to go to work today, rather than stay home. He got the words "Work" and "Home" mixed up.  I called his boss and explained what had happened. He has seen Joel have one before (the first one happened in the office) and knew immediately that Joel should stay home. Joel went to say "It's not that bad". What came out was "I up not zip pool". He didn't even notice he'd done it. I mentioned it to him, and he was confused. But for the next 10 minutes or so, he sounded remarkably like the woman in the clip. 

He was terrified. Quietly, though I was certain we were still dealing with a migraine - the reality was horrifying to watch and I struggled not to cry. He couldn't help it. He was sobbing, so incredibly frightened. It was only half an hour from the first mistaken word to him speaking ok again (though still with a slur) but it was horrible.  He refused the ambulance I called out to the house. He went to sleep.  I stayed up until 1am.  I woke him a few times (whenever he stirred) and asked him questions that required more than a yes/no answer.  He answered them all fine, so eventually I went to sleep. 

He woke this morning with the headache and the numbness and tingling in his face. His speech is fine, but his hand is very weak again.  He's at the doctor as we speak.  I'm relieved of course, that the aphasia is gone, but I'm hoping they do a scan.  I still think it was a migraine, but I will feel better when we confirm it (or rule out a stroke).  I've heard him many times this morning whisper to himself "you're ok, it's just a migraine. It's just a migraine". My heart breaks for him. 

So, I'm not sure how much blogging I'll get done this week.  I'll try to get it done at nights, when everyone is asleep.  I'm doing this now because Koko is having a lay down.  I want to blog tomorrow about the beautiful gift that Joel bought me on Friday night. My Facebook friends already know (because I screamed it to everyone all night, photos and all). It'll be a happy post, and I can't wait to show you all. But for now, I'm tired. I have a shocking headache of my own, slightly masked by the drugs, but only just. I'm going to lie down and take advantage of the quiet until I hear from Joel. 

Have a good week.

Keeping it real

And then there are days like this. When I hate my body. When I wake up at 6 and my first thought, my first awareness is of the unbearable stabbing pain in my left hip. I breathe in slowly, try to breathe it out. The movement hurts my neck and shoulder.

It is 6.01 and I hate the world. My recent positivity is out the window. I'm angry, suddenly. With everyone and every thing. I'm angry that today, despite needing it desperately, I won't get to rest. I won't get to lie down and read away the pain. I won't get to head to Pinterest to escape into a world of yellows and pinks and turquoise. Of kittens and smiles and inspiring words.

No. I will have to walk Samuel to daycare. It's but a block away but right now it feels impossible. Right now when I cannot feel my left hand at all. When my shoulder throbs and my hip radiates a pain through not just it's own bones, but my lower back and my leg too. Today that walk will hurt, a lot.

And it always hurts, the walk. I take it anyway because I figure it can only be good. Moving my body even just the little bit it takes to walk a block and back has to be good. Not for any cardiovascular health - heaven knows I'm not walking far enough or fast enough for that. But surely moving is better than not?
And what would it matter if it wasn't? I have no other way to get him there.

~~~~

It's been an hour since I started this. I'm such an idiot. Some perspective has been gained. Because yes, I'm in pain.  A lot today, in fact. It's a particularly bad day, and I imagine that by tonight, I'll be back to the mood I woke up in.

But both of my children are safely and happily at school and daycare. Both have smiles on their faces. Both are healthy today. I'm here, I'm dressed in my new Paris shirt. I have my first new accessory - a chunky blue and green (talk about colour blocking!) bangle on. It feels weird. But it's nice. I feel like I made an effort.  I look pretty today, and as ridiculous as it sounds, it helps a bit.

Koko and I are going to have a quiet day. I may not be able to take the drugs and sleep. But I can read. I bought her a new book yesterday that she wanted to read and she's looking forward to reading it.

It'll be fine. I don't feel in love with my body. There's no question it lets me down. But hell, I've let it down too.  Not anymore though. Now I am caring for it.  Last night, I was so tired, so sad and so sore that I wanted to comfort eat.  Twice last night, I even poured the muesli into the bowl.  I had to make myself walk away. It was possibly the hardest I've ever had to 'work' to resist the urge to binge. (I was, however rewarded with a perfect 3.5 BGL when waking today).

source

Joel thinks it doesn't count as binging or comfort eating if it's my muesli. It's healthy and the bowl is tiny. But I feel as though it's more the principle.  It's about the fact that I wanted to eat my feelings away. Eat to distract myself from the pain. Not because I was hungry or needed fuel. But because I was tired and sad and that makes me crave carbs (my blog just tried to correct this to crabs. I assure you, I do not crave crabs).

He thinks I should let myself have it. I feel like that's a habit I need to break.  What about you? Do you think it counts if the 'binge' food is healthy? Honest question here. I'm not fishing for compliments, or "good for you"s. I'm curious about whether you think I'm being extreme or if you think that no matter the food - comfort eating is comfort eating.

This post really veered off track. But then, so do I.  My brain - it's very disordered of late. We worry a little. My short term memory has become a huge problem. I'm no longer forgetting just conversations or appointments. I'm forgetting people. A post for another time, perhaps.



* Funny side note. I googled images of Comfort Eating. Laughed out loud when a picture of Glow came up. :)

2012 I Heart My Body

So. This is the first time I've ever joined in on one of these. I've never so much as considered it. I mean, me? The fat girl?

It's sad though, isn't it? That at no time have I ever, ever looked at another woman and thought "Oh, she's so fat". "How could she take a photo of herself?". Never. I love seeing blogs with photos of smiling women and their beautiful families.  Yet I'm so incredibly hard on myself. Since the Prednisone (which I was on for 9 months and have been off for a year), I've not allowed one single photo of myself to be taken. Not one. That's almost 2 years.

2 years of my children's life with no photographic evidence that I existed. That I was a part of it.  That this year, the past 4 months, more than any other time of their entire life - I have been with them. I mean completely engaged - going out with them every single time Joel goes out. Not staying home on the weekends and sleeping while they all go and have adventures. I'm always with them now, joining in.  They've stopped being surprised that I'm coming. They've even stopped asking if I'm coming. We just all know I am.

And this year, for the first time in my life, I've taken notice of my body. I don't mean what size I am. I don't mean whether my stomach is too big (it is) or whether my face is pretty (it can be) or what size I am. But what keeps me alive. My heart has been beating for more than 37 years. They have never failed me. My lungs, they work for me every moment of every day.

And for 25 of those 37 (tomorrow) years, I've not taken care of this body of mine. In fact I've unwittingly abused it. I've hated it. I'm not a drinker. I've never smoked a cigarette or picked up an illicit drug in my life.

But every day for the past 2 and a half decades, I've failed to recognise the wonder of my body. And I've failed to treat it the way it deserves. I don't nourish it with the best, most healthful foods I can. I ate lazy, cheap chemical-laden, processed food. I ate the food I craved, not the food that would nourish me and my body.


I didn't take the time to relax my body. No candles to soothe my senses. No foot massages to take care of my feet. No make up to make myself feel happier. Nothing. My body was nothing but my betrayer. The cause of all of my ills, all of my pain.

And I'm not saying there's no pain. Of course there is. But that doesn't mean it doesn't deserve better. So for the past 3-4 months, I've been giving better. I've been demanding (and accepting) better from myself.

I eat only the most nutritious, beautiful food. Fresh fruits and vegetables. Lean cuts of meat. The best whole grains. Water and tea. No more white food. No more coffee. No more take away food that provides instant-gratification and nothing more.

I take the time each day to put on make up. I am buying new, colourful clothes to adorn this body. Appreciating it's changing shape. Cute shoes. Pretty colours. Soft, feminine scents on my body - my favourite perfumes. Body lotions, manicures, cute jewellery. Things that have colour, that may even draw attention. So that I stop hiding myself and this body.

This may not sound like it was the point of this challenge. Perhaps it was supposed to be about overlooking our faults and finding parts of our body we love. My eyes. My smile. My hands.

The body that loves this man and created and carried these children.

But mostly it's about valuing my body enough to treat it with some tenderness, some pampering, some love. To show my children that I'm worthy of time to myself, time to pamper myself. To remind myself that this is the only body I get. This is the life I have. What am I waiting for? The perfect number on a scale?


My life - the life I imagined having?It's here, now. Grab it, appreciate it. The man I adore, the children that fill my home with laughter. A home, filling up with our things, our pictures. Books, music, friends. Filled as ever, with  love.

So do I love my body? Hell yeah. I love it enough to start treating it with love. Treating myself with love.

The truth is, I don't have a photo. Not a recent one. And ironically, the last 3 days in a row, when I've gotten myself dressed in the morning, lotioned, made up and in my new-but-already-too-big clothes? I've wanted to take photos. I've felt good. I've felt pretty. 

The irony of still not having found the phone cable since the move. It's in the only room of the home not yet unpacked - Joel's office. But when I find it, I'm going to make a special effort to take more photos that have me in them. It's my 2013 resolution.  (That, and learning French).

Transmission Interrupted

There is something very wrong with my computer at the moment.  Or, more specifically - my internet.  Something happened yesterday afternoon, and we can't seem to work out what is going on.  Not even Joel, who has never not been able to troubleshoot and fix anything computer related in our home, can work out what's going on.

I can get some pages just fine. Mostly, pages I don't go to very often. But pages I go to all of the time - Facebook, HuffPo, Twitter, my email - nada. They seem to be loading as though they were on mobile devices. I can sometimes get Sky News, but I can't get Courier Mail, CNN, ABC. I can sometimes get Pinterest. But only about one try out of every 3.

No pictures. Most of the pages won't load. I can't seem to comment on any posts, though I can see most of them. I seem to be able to post here, so that's good. But I'm not able to get notifications of comments (so I might not see them right away).

Almost all of my bookmarks are not working.

We've deleted cookies. We've cleared history. I can't think of anything I could have downloaded, although it's possible. I've received an inordinate amount of junk mail in the past 3 days (I'm never, ever, ever filling out an online survey again). We've reset the modem. We've done a bazillion restarts. We've cleared all saved log-in details etc. We've done everything the computer suggests we do. We've run virus scans. Nothing.

Yesterday morning, all was fine. By mid-afternoon, it was like this. I can't tell you how frustrating I'm finding it. The computer is kind of my life-line. I am doing better at leaving the house at times, but it's still my social life. My connection to other people is 99% online. Without it, I'm feeling a bit bereft right now. 

So. I don't know how long this will take to fix beause at this point we have no earthly idea what is left to try. If anyone else has an idea, I would love to hear it.

This is what FB looks like to me right now - 

My email won't load at all. Most pages I load (anything Ifollow a link to, rather than direct searches) gets me this:

My apologies if I don't get to comments today. Or facebook. I'm not ignoring you - I can't see you. And if I can, my computer won't load comment forms, so I can't reply.


Send Help. Seriously, I'm desperate. 

Congratulations. You're obese!

No really. This was part of a conversation I had yesterday with a nurse. What's more? It was great news. 

source

The first time the words 'morbidly obese' came into my radar, I was 25. I had just been diagnosed with diabetes. My GP called me, said that my blood work had come back and that I needed to be admitted to hospital immediately. He asked me to call by the surgery and pick up the paperwork. That he had called the hospital ahead of time and they were expecting me. 

Joel raced home from work and we headed for the hospital.  I opened up the letter of referral from my doctor. I scanned down to history. 

The first words. Morbidly Obese. Diagnosed 1999.

I felt literally as though I'd been punched in the stomach. The air expelled and I closed the letter. Tears pricked at my eyes and I felt nauseas. I stuffed the letter quickly back into the envelope and into my bag. I sat in the car, my head turned to the window and let the tears fall. Joel tried for most of the trip in to find out what was wrong. 

Eventually I handed him the letter. He looked at me in shock. 'There's no way", he said. "You're overweight, sure. You have weight to lose. But you're not obese. And you're definitely not morbidly obese. I don't know why he's written that, but I don't want you to worry. We've seen obese, and you're not it".

I wanted so badly to believe him. Here's the thing. You know those pictures of obese people? I didn't look like them.  I mean, I really, really didn't. I looked overweight, absolutely. But looking at me, I looked about 25 kgs LESS than what I really was. For some reason, the way I carried the weight made it look so much less.  (In fact, when I spoke to my family and some friends when I came out of hospital, they all said the same thing. Including my father - who doesn't hold back the truth when asked for it).

 But it was true.  Technically, my BMI was over 35. I have since been down - down to probably 30 (which is not in fact, morbidly obese) and up to 42 - which absolutely is. At no time, however have those two terrible words been edited on my medical files. They have preceded me, like a scarlet letter, to every single doctor I've seen in 12 years. They have been so clearly, disdainfully visible in the eyes of every single specialist I have seen, every single nurse in a hospital, entered into every medical chart that has borne my name. 

The reason for my shock (and utter humiliation) at that letter, 12 long years ago? At no time, ever had those words been uttered to me by a medical professional. Or anyone else, for that matter. At no time in my life had any doctor ever, ever so much as mentioned my weight to me. I knew they were thinking it. But I can swear that up to that point, at 25 years of age - they had never chosen to discuss my weight issues. So to see that I had been officially diagnosed with (in my mind) the worst thing I could imagine at the time (oh, how stupidly naive I was) without so much as a word - I felt betrayed  I felt like I was the source of some huge joke that all Doctors were having at my expense.

It's not as though I didn't know I was fat. Hell, I'd felt fat at 11 - probably close to 5 or 6 years before I really was actually overweight.  It's amazing what a couple of insensitive, throw-away words from someone can do. My entire self from that moment on was 'the fat girl'. 

It's never gone away. No matter my weight, no matter the glaringly obvious facts in front of me, I've always felt like the biggest person in any room I've ever been in.

O

So for 12 years now - morbidly obese has been a boulder I've carried with me. Scarlet letters emblazoned for everyone to see. 

I had my first meeting with the nurse at my Doctors' surgery. We were having an hour-long session to set up a Chronic Illness care plan. Believe it or not, despite having diabetes, no GP has ever referred me to a diabetes educator (though I've seen them when pregnant). No GP has ever suggested I see a dietician or an exercise physiologist. Finally, after asking my last GP for a long time, I approached my new one and asked myself. It was a 10 week weight to get in to the nurse, but yesterday my appointment came.

She had read my file ahead of time. She had Stephen's notes on my recent weight loss. So the moment I walked in the door "I'm so happy to meet you. Stephen says you're doing an amazing job". 

And you know what? I believed her. Because I had a conversation with my doctor on Friday night that changed my life, in a way. We were talking about a few things, tweaking medications. Adding some, taking some away. In there, I'd weighed myself and he had entered the numbers into the computer. Not a word though.  I remember leaving the appointment feeling deflated, but understanding that it was the end of a very long day and we'd been rushed.

I was signing out with the receptionist when he came to the waiting room and asked if he could have a word.  Has a doctor ever called you aside in a waiting room? You can't imagine how many eyes suddenly are curiously assessing you!  It's somewhat akin to being called to the Principal's office. :)

He took me into a corner of the waiting room and said this. ""I just couldn't let you go without this. The weight loss thing? You're doing an amazing job. I'm so, so proud of you. I can't tell you enough how well you're doing. It's an amazing thing to see. To see you doing it, the way you're doing it? Well, I couldn't let you leave without telling you".

You've no idea what that meant to me. In my life, I've never had a Doctor speak that way to me. I've never, ever had a word of encouragement from a medical professional (well - midwives. But in my opinion, they're in a golden class of their own). Him taking the time to make sure I knew he was happy with my progress - it was surreal. And so, so appreciated. 

And then I followed it up with this nurse appointment. She weighed me, checked my height and meausurements (which were hugely different, I've lost far more inches than the 16kgs I've lost since August).  And we're chatting away and she suddenly turns to me and says "You're obese!". I looked back, deadpan and said 'Really?! You're kidding? I'm not fat!". Fortunately she had worked out my sense of humour and laughed with me. "No. I mean you've gone from Morbidly Obese to just Obese now. Your BMI has dropped down".

I won't lie. My BMI is still frighteningly high (far higher than I 'look"). But it's down. My records have been altered to reflect it.

And that, my friends feels like a very big deal. 

(I tried to find some photos in the post, as I so often do. I like breaking things up. But you know what? Type in 'losing weight', 'weight loss' etc and all there are are pictures of super-fit, very slim people - or very large stomachs, love handles being pinched to accentuate the fat. Or very twee quotes or sayings. I don't want that. I want to do this. But not to be skinny. Not to be  hotter. Just to be healthier. And I'm at the beginning of this, but I've no intention of beating myself up anymore though. So, no 'motivating' pics. To be honest, I don't find them motivating at all).


Apparently...I blog on Tuesdays. :)

The Battle Cry.

It's been a rough week for some in the blogosphere. For me personally, and for others. And I think it's time we addressed the elephant in the room. Time we named and shamed the real culprit in stirring unrest in the blogosphere.

The Captcha

Ok. I know that lots of bloggers have Captcha on their comments systems. And while I hate them, I understand. Spam is annoying. Canned and otherwise. (See what I did there? No. Fair enough. It wasn't really that funny). 

I guess I struggle with them because of my eyes. And I've tried the audio ones. Some are great. But the ones I tried tonight (I've been on a blog commenting spree) had SO much background noise added to them (WHY?) that I couldn't make out the letters or numbers at all.

This is kind of what they look like to me.

But do you know what I really, really, really hate about them?
THIS.

Google's passive-aggressive wiggly red lines underneath the world. "We're sorry. We're sorry you're an idiot and you can't spell.  But 'erlsals' isn't in fact spelled right. Might not even be a word, dummy".


I know it's spelled wrong. It's not my word. It's YOURS, douche bag. And while I'm at it, why do you NEVER let me type 'blog', 'blogger', 'blogging' without the same little red bastards? Every time, no matter what website I'm on, there you are. Judging me.

Know what I think it is? I think it's Google's way of trying to keep us bloggers down. First they don't recognise the word blog. Then they try to stop us commenting.

We can't let it go on. I say we revolt!  Who's with me?

What do you mean I'm overthinking it? Because that really doesn't sound like something I'd do.

Another dose of pretty.

Sorry guys. It's been a bit of a crap day (nerve pain) and tonight I need to settle back and have some  visual 'therapy'.

I've just finished The Grapes of Wrath (fiiinally.  Started the book in September! But moved house, had the flu and went away for a week - so it's been really sporadic).  It's an amazing book. Brilliantly written.

But am I allowed to say that it's oh, so depressing?  I mean, of course, I knew that that's what I was in for.  I knew enough about the premise of the book and the circumstances of the time to know that I wasn't reading a lovely Maeve Binchy with soft-focus edges and a violin-swelling happy ending.  Still. I have to admit, while I'm in awe of how well Steinbeck puts me in the moment, I'd rather be elsewhere now that all is said and done.

Definitely reading something happy and girly next. In the meantime - these beautiful things cheered me up tonight. (Well those and snuggles with my Sam, talking to Alexander about the book he devoured before bed last night and watching a funny new TV show with Joel..)..

Some more Pinterest pictures that are inspiring me as I think about getting to decorate this home.


I've started drinking a lot more tea again, and find myself wanting a pretty set like this to make it more of a ritual, a moment in my day that I look forward to.

                                                                              Source: etsy.com via Melissa on Pinterest

I may have almost convinced Joel to think about this.... (he was talking today about getting set up to do some of the projects I've bookmarked. There are some amazing blogs with step-by-step instructions and I think we're both feeling inspired).

                                                                       Source: maryelizabethinspire.tumblr.com via Melissa on Pinterest

I love this table. I still hold out hope we could find something that we could work with....

                                                                              Source: countryliving.com via Melissa on Pinterest

It even has the "M" for Mitchell! (Not the green walls. Just the idea).

                                                                Source: mathewsfamilyhappenings.blogspot.com via Melissa on Pinterest

Time to let the perfume's and trinkets out instead of hiding them from little hands.

                                                                               Source: kikareichert.com.br via Melissa on Pinterest

                                                                                   Source: sterlingstyle.net via Melissa on Pinterest

I want to put something like this near my bookshelf (we're finally getting another 2!).

                                                                                Source: startupchamp.com via Melissa on Pinterest

We got some white wooden picture frames.  I'm hoping to steal away a couple of them and get some beautiful yellow wallpaper or scrapping paper to do this.

                                                                                               Source: ritzybee.typepad.com via Melissa on Pinterest

Lots of cushions - we used to have a lot of cushions in our living room and the master bedroom. But one too many things broke from pillow fights (what's a super-hero-pirate to do?), so I stopped having them out.

Source: mymunchkinhome.com.au via Melissa on Pinterest

                                                                                                      Source: decor8blog.com via Marianne on Pinterest

                       

I ADORE this idea! Stop the clock when your babies are born. A moment in time, changed forever. Sweet idea

                                                                                  Source: lizmyers.uppercaseliving.net via Melissa on Pinterest

I like this mirror:

                                                                                              Source: blog.wayfair.com via Maxine on Pinterest

Ordering this for my laundry (which is also going to get a little bit of a makeover).

                                                                                  Source: ebay.com via Melissa on Pinterest

Not sure how much I'll be on tomorrow. If I follow through with my plans, I may be sneaking myself into a cab, and off to a movie and then the hairdressers. A bit of a 'me' day.

Hope you all have a great one. xxxx