If I Ever See Another Roll of Deco Mesh it Will be Too Soon…

Well, it took me a year, but I finally finished it. Yes, you heard that right – a whole year. Whoever decided that inventing Deco Mesh was a good idea is a mean, mean person and is laughing all the way to the bank.
It was about this time last year when I was looking for a project to keep my mind and my heart busy. I was having such a hard time with my father’s passing and it was quite easy to buy things to start projects yet the actual doing of anything, let alone finishing anything wasn’t happening.
I can only give myself a free pass for so long.
So there it was, bags and piles of pink Deco Mesh, mocking me. Stupid Deco Mesh. Bring it on.
I put my big girl panties on, rolled up my sleeves, called in some reinforcements and got it done. I’m not gonna lie, I really do love it. It reminds me of a 90’s spiral perm on crack. I watched a bazillion videos and it took forever and it was a pain in the keister. I’ll tell you this though…If you want to strain your marriage a bit…leave piles Deco Mesh around for 2 weeks. That will do the trick. It is guaranteed to piss off just about the kindest of husbands.

almost done

almost done

There are a couple of things I learned from this project:
1. I can ask for help:
Man. I think this will always be hard for me. I’m horrible at asking for help, I feel people judge me as being weak. But strangely I am honored when people ask me to help them. It is so odd. But working on this project with a friend was tons of fun. She kept me focused and we bounced ideas off of each other. AND THEN when Darren started getting frustrated that his dining room table was MIA, he started helping too. Don’t tell him, but it was fun throwing Deco Mesh at each other.

Thanks for helping Babe

Thanks for helping Babe

2. Just because I can – doesn’t mean I should:
Every.Stinkin’.Time. You’d think I’d learn. Just because I CAN do something myself, doesn’t mean I should. Yes, I CAN change my own tire, in sub-freezing temperatures, in the middle of the night, with 3 screaming kiddos in the car, on the side of the highway. Should I? No. No I shouldn’t. I should just call the triple-a. That’s what it’s for. Same goes for Deco Mesh. That’s why God invented Etsy.
3. It isn’t always pretty when you get close, I mean really close:
Seriously. Don’t look too closely at this wreath. It looks fabulous from far away (just like me). But then the closer you get, the more you see of all the frays and imperfections. And boy-oh-boy does this thing have imperfections (just like me).
4. But….I have developed a love/hate relationship with Deco Mesh:
Dude. Not 2 minutes after I finished saying ‘I never want to see Deco Mesh ever again’ was I scrolling the Craft Store sale ad and saw that Deco Mesh was on sale *Yahtzee* I started envisioning a beautiful St. Patrick’s Day wreath. I need to go to the Craft Store, don’t I? Ugh. There is something seriously wrong with me. Don’t tell Darren.

 

Couldn't be happier

Couldn’t be happier

 

 

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I Heart Latin

I’ve noticed that learning a foreign language isn’t a high school requirement over here. Interesting since many colleges do require two years of foreign language credit, but I’ll save that rant for a different day. I normally don’t like to do ‘shoulda’s’ but if I could do it all over again, I would have picked Latin instead of French. I know, I know…’But Sar, Latin is a dead language’. Oh, I hear you. But I really think it helps with all the Romance languages – Italian, Spanish, French (what are the other 4 romance languages, I always forget…)

 
Although English is not one of the romance languages, I’d like to believe that learning Latin would have helped me along the way.

 
For example…

 
Long long time ago, I saw a sign in my doctor’s office that mentioned a new service they were offering ‘Complementary Medicine’.

 
Hot Damn. Sign me up. Free health care. It’s finally happened.

 
Little did I know that after an afternoon of guided imagery, aromatherapy, shiatsu, and acupuncture I would still be getting a bill. There was nothing complimentary about it.
Turns out it wasn’t Latin I needed to learn, I was just a dumb ass and didn’t know the difference between complementary and complimentary.

 
Stupid English.

 
Ok, that was a bad example. Hilarious, but bad example.

 
Well, at least learning Latin will help me with my spells at Hogwarts. Expecto Patronum!

 
Maybe I can turn learning Latin into a spellcasting type thing around here. Think anyone will change out the laundry if I just yell ‘Mutatio Lauandi!’?

I Can Have Grace AND be a Neanderthal at the Same Time, Right?

There are a few modern conveniences I only notice when they are gone. Most recently this list consists of closed captioning and my microwave.

 
It’s feeling like 1918 instead of 2018 around here and I don’t seem to be handling it very well.

 
I started using closed captioning when Maddie was learning to read. It also helped me feel less guilty whenever I was letting the kiddos watch something that wasn’t educational. Hey, at least they were learning how to read, right? I’m also able to keep the noise down to a minimum. It’s a beautiful thing.

 
Well, something wonky happened to the TV, I probably sat on the remote, who knows what happened and my precious closed captioning was gone.

 
Dude.

 
I couldn’t understand a word anyone was saying. I was the most ancient old lady in the history of ancient old ladies. Please hold while I call the Smithsonian, historical moment here people.

 
The good news is that the girls couldn’t understand anyone either and that made me feel a little bit better, but pausing the TV every 2 seconds to say ‘wait, what’ gets old. Quick.

 
I need to send the inventor of closed captioning a thank you card. She’s a good egg. Well, it’s a bunch of eggs…Julia Child, Bill Kastner, and the Texas Instruments peeps.

 
Let’s move on to my microwave story before you decide I’m a whack-a-mole, shall we?

 
When we moved into this house a few months ago the microwave seemed to want to be my nemesis. It was loud, obnoxious, and appeared to have a mind of its own. For my birthday last month, we splurged and got a new microwave. Let call her Princess, shall we? Well, Princess decided to stop working 17 days ago.

 
Great.

 
So here I stand, with a cup of cold coffee in one hand and a bag of microwave popcorn in the other, completely dumbfounded.

 
Do you have any idea how long it takes to defrost something in the fridge, or actually BAKE a potato?

 
How in the world am I supposed to soften a rock of brown sugar? WTF universe?

 
I like SERIOUSLY have to wait for butter to soften on the counter. Like a Neanderthal.

 
I can feel my great-grandmother rolling her eyes at me.

 
This entire process is teaching us all patience and grace. If one more microwave helpdesk guy asks me if ‘I’m sure’ I pushed the start button or asks me if I’m using the timer instead of the microwave I might just lose it.

 
*breathe Sar*

 
I’m trying to remind myself of this video. It’s one of my favorites and I hope you have a few minutes to watch it. It reminds me that every thing, every day, and every one is a gift. But here on day 17 of our battle with the microwave peeps it’s difficult to remember. I’m trying.

 
People pay extra for iced coffee, right?