What’s Your Scent?

I need a scent.

Usually I emit chocolate and dry erase marker but I’m starting to feel that I need something more substantial.

I often pass women who I think smell good but I am not one to stop them and ask what perfume they are wearing.

And then I pass women who have poured the bottle on them and think maybe I could do without.

The problem is that the few times that I have looked for a scent I always walk away discouraged. I don’t like flowery, I don’t like strong, I don’t spicy, and I don’t like woodsy.

I like light, fresh, vanilla, and citrus.

Maybe I should just skip the perfume and rub a vanilla cupcake with citrus frosting on my  body and call it a day.

But then I came across this Ladies Home Journal online quiz, “What’s Your Signature Scent?” and thought maybe this could help me.

The quiz is a simple 10 question quiz that delves into your favorite type of movie, what you find romantic, and what you like to eat.

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Maybe not too scientific but at this point I am ready to try anything.

I answered all 10 questions and found out I am considered a natural woman.

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I didn’t think the description was dead on and plus, I shave my arm pits, something that I believe excludes me from the natural woman category all together.

So I changed up my  answers to a few of the questions.

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Again, not quite the way I would describe myself but I decided to explore the perfumes they had recommended for me.

I started with Escada Island Kiss….

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Beautiful  bottle, let’s read the description…

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Hmm, I was with them until they  got to “a hint of musk.”

What is musk?

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What the F ?

Just because I checked that I like to eat meatball sandwiches and wear lip balm suddenly means I want to smell like a deer?

I don’t even want to smell like “just a hint of musk.”

I went on to read the descriptions of the other perfumes and think I have found the one I am most interested in.

The  L de Lolita Lempicka Eau de Parfum Spray is currently sitting in my amazon shopping cart but first I’m going to through it out to you my friends.

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Anyone have a favorite perfume they would like to recommend?

(Go take the quiz to find out what your scent is?)

Thank You Teachers!

Teaching is one of the hardest jobs out there.

And if you think it’s not, you are probably sending your kids to school fed, clothing them appropriately, providing them with school supplies, and helping them with homework when they get home.

Believe me when I say teachers are doing more than teaching math, science, social studies, and reading.

They are working on behavior skills, teaching to all learners, thinking about and maybe even meeting with their students on the weekend, encouraging those who are struggling, discussing morals and life issues with their kids, advocating for their students, and  helping their students in other countless ways.

Jen Hatmaker’s post on thanking teachers is spot on and I loved it.

Consider writing a note of gratitude, surprising a teacher with a treat, or sending in extra paper and pencils.

Whatever you do, just say thanks to a teacher.

Bangs Gone Wrong

I’m only showing you this so I can get some love.

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I admit it’s a shameless ploy for someone to tell me, “You don’t look that bad.”

It’s been about 4 months since my last haircut so I really was in desperate need of one.

I went to a very reputable salon and had a very nice girl do my hair since my regular hairdresser was not available.

I explained to the girl that I wanted my bangs cut at eyebrow length.

I’m fairly sure that in Hairdressing 101 one of the first lessons is cut the bangs in small increments.

Apparently, my hair dresser missed that day.

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I know, get it out, laugh, I’ll wait.

………

What’s a girl to do besides just pull her hair back with a pin and wait a good 4 to 6 weeks?

Laugh.

And that’s what I’m choosing to do.

And pin my miniscule bangs back because in this case, nothing is better than something.

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I see plenty of hat wearing in my future.

A Dog, A Girl, and a Leash

“Sophie, come here. I need to put your leash on.”

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“Sophie! Come here. We are going for a walk. I want to put your leash on you.”

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“Sophie, come here. 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! Sophie I counted. Come here.”

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“Mom, I’m getting frustrated. I’m trying to put her leash on but she keeps walking away.”

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“Sophie, you need to listen to me right now.”

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 “Sit Sophie sit.”

“SIT SOPHIE SIT!”

“SOOOOOOOPPPPPPHHHIIIEEE SSSSIIITTTT!!!!!!”

Zombie Style

My kids think I am the biggest buzz kill ever.

If they had their way they would watch tv and play video games constantly.

But…insert evil witch cackle…they don’t have their way.

I believe kids need time to be bored.

There, I said it.

B.O.R.E.D.

I think being bored leads to creativity.

If technology is always an option, kids never have to imagine, pretend, and create.

The other day after they had been turned away from the computer I walked downstairs 20 minutes later to find my kids like this…

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And this…

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And this…

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Apparently they were playing “Attack of the Zombie.”

See, creativity at it’s best.

The dog may  have been questioning them, but me?

Nope? Proud momma.

Can’t wait to see what they dream up today.

(Just a little “Happy Birthday” shout out to my little zombie Andrew!)

In Honor of Jayden Lamb

My friend Jess, who recently moved to Michigan, shared a video with me. The video is the  story of Jayden Lamb, a little boy from northeast Michigan.

This past weekend we celebrated my almost 8 year old with a little party. There were a few hitches and things didn’t go quite as planned. I was frustrated and annoyed and quite honestly, had trouble letting it go.

Then I watched this video again and felt foolish. Jayden’s dad can’t celebrate his son’s birthday with him and I’m complaining because a few kids were difficult at my son’s party.

Take a minute and watch.

Now just be thankful.

And when you have a moment, Pay It Forward – Jayden Style!

3rd Graders & Their Future

Inevitably when teaching math to kids the words, “When will I ever have to use this when I get older?” comes up.

And when it came up, I asked my group of 3rd  graders what they want to be when they grow up.

I heard, “Medical Assistant.”

Easy – fractions & decimals for medicines

I heard, “Artist.”

A Little Harder – measurement for the scale of objects in painting

I heard, “Cage Fighter.”

Hard – Money – to know how much to pay your manager

And then I heard, “Vegetarian.”

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“What do you want to be?”

“A vegetarian when I grow up.”

Impossible – “Ah, I guess you need to know how to measure when you are a vegetarian…”

“But what about the dogs?”

“Do you mean you want to be a veterinarian?”

“Yes, that’s what I said, I want to be a vegetarian when I grow up. I want to help dogs and cats.”

Veterinarian – Easy – Must have knowledge of math for temperatures, medicines, and animal weights

I think I just might want to be a 3rd grader when I grow up, they are hilarious.

 

My Phone

Why is it that the only time I lose my phone is roughly 5 minutes after I have put the ringer on silent?

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Ugh.

Excuse me but I must go find my phone.

A Sleepover Party for My 11 Year Old

I have to confess something.

I hate sleepover parties. Really hate them.

I know I should love them as a mom and love that my friends have kids who want to come to their house but alas, I hate them.

My son turned 11 over the weekend and wanted a sleepover party with his friends.

He requested a 24 hour party which I quickly shot down. No way Jose.

We compromised on a 4 pm to 10 am party.

At about 4:30 pm on party day, after the 5 guests had arrived,  my husband and I looked at each other and said, “Only 17 1/2 hours to go!”

In all actuality I think it is the stress of hosting 5, 11 year old boys who want nothing else then to knock each other over for the entire length of the party. Oh, and maybe the kids who only speak at one volume, LOUD, that tends to drive me up the wall too.

For the beginning of the party we took the boys to the park near our house where they played soccer, tag, basketball, and grounders (chase on the playground set, no one touching the ground, with the person who is “it” closing there eyes while they were chasing the others – basically a recipe for disaster.)

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Once it hit 6:30 and no one had broken a bone my husband and I called the party a success.

After pizza and a rousing , “Only 15 hours to go,” it was time for a video game tournament, ping pong, and cake.

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After coercing them into taking showers the boys settled on the couches to watch Goonies.

I remember loving this movie when I was younger.

What I didn’t remember were the drug jokes and curse words throughout the movie. Good chance I could receive a few calls from moms today.

After the movie we tucked the boys in at 11 pm and …wait for it……they feel asleep immediately.

For those of you who have never hosted a sleepover you will not understand what a gift this is. No one had to utter 45 times, “Boy, it’s time to go to bed now.” Derek and I kept saying to each other, “Do you really think they are asleep? Can’t be. Are they planning something?”

At 7 AM my husband and I were awakened by what sounded like a herd of cattle coming downstairs.

We uttered, “Only 3 more hours.”

After a breakfast of pancakes, more video games, and ping pong we heard that wonderful sound we had been waiting for – ding dong! A child pick up 20 minutes early! At 10:05 when the last boy had been picked up Derek and I held are hands up in victory. Although only morning we climbed back into bed and vowed never to host a sleepover again.

We were feeling good and proud of ourselves until Andrew announced, “For my 8th birthday I’m going to have a sleep over too because that was so much fun.”

So now I’m standing firm on our vow.  We are not going to have another sleep over for at least 2 weeks. And for those of you counting, that’s only 236 hours till the next sleep over. Lord help us.

Easter Eggs, I’m Done

I’ve done my part of eating from the fridge and I can do no more.

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So far this week I have eaten 4 egg salad sandwiches, 2 salads with hard boiled eggs in them, and 1 hard boiled egg by itself.

I can’t eat anymore Easter eggs.

My  cholesterol is probably 485.

I’m going to eat something from the pantry.