Highlights from Colorado

Casa Bonita, table for one . . .

This was the restaurant I fondly remember visiting as a child. And it STILL exists. So, on a whim last night I decided to go there to celebrate finishing my 7 day project in only 5 days. While it was EXACTLY as I remember it, Casa Bonita is not a place to go and eat by yourself. I did get cool souvenirs for the kids.
.

This reminded me of my nephew, Kyle, who calls his man part his "yank'. I laughed out loud every time I drove back to my hotel.

.
. . . and the teasers . . .
My new murals. You'll have to click the business card link on the side bar to see the rest of the photos. (But maybe not until Sunday night because I'm probably heading to bed right now.)
.


I'm happy to be home with my family again. And I'm super happy that Brent's mom is here and we (B and myself) are leaving on a cruise Monday morning. I need a little time to recover from a week of 14 hour work days before I jump right back into being a Super Mom Wannabe again.

Camp-a-palooza!

Today was our Girl's Camp Fundraiser. It was such a success!! We made tons of money -- plenty to pay everyone's way to camp -- and we all had a fantastic time. It hardly felt like work at all. I set up a bunch of assembly lines. We bagged the meat. The girls added marinade ingredients. Twenty lasagnas fit into my new freezer. A hundred pounds of chicken fit into my old refrigerator. Unbelievable. The girls had 115 meals assembled and ready to be picked up in 45 minutes. Fantastic. After five years as camp director, I finally feel like I'm figuring things out. Which only means I won't get to do it again next year. Or maybe I've sentenced myself to life in Girl's Camp. Hmmm . . . there are worser fates.

And now, as I bask in the glow of triumph, I am frantically packing for my trip to Colorado in the morning. I'll be back next Saturday with new mural photos!

Basic Math. . .

-Four little words-

Bent rack and pinion.

-plus four more_

Two thousand dollar repair.

-equal three-

One fun week.

Thanks goodness I've been doing a lot of painting lately.

One Talented Young Photographer!

Here are some photos Riley took at the Phoenix Zoo on Tuesday. He took them all by himself (except for the one of the boys in our group) and I didn't crop or edit them in any way. Pretty good, don't you think? He was snapping pictures all day and I wasn't paying attention to what they looked like. When we got home and I put them on the computer I was really impressed. How did he get it to focus on the animal and not the chain-link fence in front?! I can't even do that with my new camera yet. All he wants for his birthday is a camera of his very own. I think he needs one.

So Clever.

A conversation between my two boys, overheard while driving yesterday:

Dylan: (quietly singing a new U2 song)
Riley: STOP! It's like you're turning into Uncle Ryan or something.
D: Yeah, because he just likes songs.
Ri: No. He likes U2.
D: (pausing just long enough . . . ) Aw, c'mon Riley. He likes you, too.

Har, har, har. I wondered for a moment if his quick-witted response was intentional. I wondered until D said, "Get it?! 'U2' sounds like 'you, too'. Get it?!" Clever little son-of-a-gun. Riley just rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath.

A Little Something We Whipped Up for Easter.

Unless you're reading this blog for the first time, you of course understand that by "we" I mean "me" and by "whipped up" I mean spent just a couple spare hours Thursday afternoon before frantically running off to the next project on my never ending to-do list. She does look lovely though, doesn't she? Thanks for teaching me to sew all those years ago, mom.

(I want a top just like that to wear with jeans and ballet flats. Ooh! And maybe I could snag that cute peony hair clip from her, too. I can't wait until we wear the same size in anything other than shoes and hair clips. Yeah, I know I'm dreaming . . .)

Easter "Egg"stravaganza

We get such a kick out of ourselves. Enjoy!

Rust"egg" polka dots.

(Get it? Rustic? Ha ha.)

Kobe Bry"egg"nt -- obviously on injured reserve

for a massive head "egg"che.

A Pter"egg"dactyl egg.

Fruits and V"egg"etables. Watermelon to be exact.

This one's from Canada. Cool, "eh"gg.

Ch"egg"ken Little.

The Steve Nash. From the Phoen"egg"s Suns, of course.

"Egg"stremely stickered.

Just monk"egg"ing around.

No lame pun here. The outfit speaks for itself. Oh dear.

The 80's: A Universally Unflattering Decade

. . . or maybe we're all just older and fatter now. This was Chris and Greg's joint birthday party Friday night. And, for the record, the girls LIKE, TOTALLY kicked the boys' butts in the costume department. Like, for sure. I didn't know if I could still do the big bangs thing, but it was just like riding a bike. You never really lose those highly-refined skills. I DID forget to buy blue eyeshadow, though. I was like, totally bummed. Good, good times.

A Realization.

People don't notice teeth. They just don't, unless they're reeeeely bad. The teeth I mean, not the people. My friends here all noticed because I told them to specifically (thanks guys!!), but no one at the gym did when I went to work on Friday. Weird. I got lots of "Ooh. I love your hair"s and "You look really nice today"s, but not one shout out on the teeth. I thought maybe they were just being polite by withholding the back-handed compliment. (Gee, your teeth look so nice. NOW.) Except that the same thing happened when I finally got my braces off. I thought it was odd then, too. Tuesday after I left the dentist's office I walked around smiling all day thinking, "Hee hee. Everyone is looking at pretty teeth." Now I realize that NO ONE was looking at my teeth. For the first time in forever no one is looking and I just couldn't be any happier!

Now, forgive me for the awkward segue. Friday was my last day "at work". I chuckle a little as I write that because I feel like I'll still be constantly working. Anyway . . . I donned my Mountainside red for the last time and I am COMPLETELY at peace about it. I'm so excited to get my kids off to school tomorrow without frantically running around trying to get myself ready, too. I'm excited about being able to work out first thing in the morning, every morning. I'm really excited about not having to worry if one of my kids is going to wake up sick and what we will do if they do. Ahhhhhhhh. With only 3 kids, a husband, a $2500 fundraiser, a mural project to design, an Easter dress to sew, a house to spring clean before Brent's mom comes, Girl's Camp, and my responsibilities as Young Women's Secretary on my plate I feel positively care free!

Or How About This?

Obviously in color -- painted by yours truly. Robin's Egg Blue, Apple Green, and Barn Red, etc. I think this is the way I'm going to go, unless you all think it's too cutesy. But cute is kind of what I do, so . . . You know the drill. Be honest.

Opinions . . .

Hate it? I thought this might be a fun combination of the two ideas. I don't know. I'm pretty Photoshop challenged. I also like the idea Cynthia suggested of paining Suburban graffiti on a wall or something and taking a picture of that. Now to find the time . . .

The Rx for What's Ailing Me . . .

This morning was a rather trying morning with one of my children. After 45 minutes of weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth I got said child dropped off at school (twenty minutes late). As I was pulling out of the school parking lot muttering previously suppressed obscenities under my breath, I had a vision. Like a heavens-parting, choirs-of-angels vision.  My kids' school is directly across the street from a beautiful park with green grass and a lake. I was all dressed to go to the gym (luckily) so I pulled in the parking lot, got out of my car and started walking. Fast. And hard. With a scowl on my face, I'm sure. It was just me out there. Just me and a bunch of older gentlemen fishing. I walked and walked. Gradually more people began to show up on the walking trail, not one of them screaming at me or clawing at my hands. Then again . . . I wasn't trying to brush their hair. Eventually I found myself smiling and saying good morning. It felt good. Good morning, lady with a knee brace. Good morning, grandpa pushing the adorable little girl on the swing. Good morning, Indian man with impeccable manners. Good morning, middle schooler. Run along now. Don't be late. And good morning to you, pleasant Asian lady on the bike. And then I realized . . . I wasn't angry or hurt or stressed out any more. It was a miracle. Six laps around the park. 40 minutes of fresh air and sunshine. Three miles. Sane mommy.

To the Makers of Sensodyne Toothpaste:

Bless you.