Yes, we are going to stop the car today. We need this. I need this.

I’ve figured it out. I’ve decided that Darren doesn’t actually go out of town. I would bet the farm that he is just sitting at the fancy hotel down the street, living like a king, ordering room service and lounging by the pool. I swear he does this just to prove a point. Well, a couple points…Point number one, I appreciate everything my husband does for me. Point number two, I can do things…turns out I CAN take out the trash. Worst realization ever.

Chaos always ensues while Darren is out of town. Some days I might as well just fall flat on my face straight out of bed, cut out the middleman, save myself some time.

It’s time for me to accept this => This is going to be hard. Suck it up buttercup.



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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



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.


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.


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?

Looking Forward and Backward

I have 2 days to have my resolutions done. So, of course, I’m procrastinating – It’s my thing.

One of my resolutions is to start writing again. So here I am, trying to combine the 3: resolutions, procrastinating and writing.

Celebrating the New Year is one of my favorite traditions. I love the idea of starting fresh and new – getting a mulligan if you will. It is a breath of fresh air, one I certainly need and enjoy.

I’ll go ahead and be honest here, I never make it to midnight. Well, I’m sure its midnight somewhere, but never here.
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I Like Clean Windows and I Cannot Lie

I think Darren inherited his amazing cleaning abilities from his grandmother. Man, that woman knew clean. I have never seen a more beautiful sliding glass door track in my life. She even had this beautiful doily in her fridge for her orange juice.  A doily.  Genius.   Yup, you heard me.  I’m pro-doily. Say it with me, doily.  Doileeeeee.

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Worry Leads to Pretty Doors, It’s Like a Thing.

I worry. It’s what I do.  I’m like – really REALLY good at it.  I worry that the mole on Emily’s arm looks different.  I worry that Darren is too busy.  I worry that Maddie’s eye prescription has changed since we checked a couple weeks ago. I worry that Jack-Jack is going to grow up.

I worry that there are mercury vapors in the air. I worry about world hunger & people dying.

I know, I know. My dad was always the first to smack me upside the head.

I’ve found that one of the ways I can keep the worries out of my head AND an added bonus of keeping them from turning into anxieties, is to have projects. Lots and lots of projects.

Darren can usually tell worries are on high alert when he comes home to a newly decorated bathroom.  Poor guy.

I’m pretty lucky that over here in New House Land, I have projects coming out of my whozits. One of the projects I am working on now is the entry from the garage.  I don’t like how neglected this area is and I would like to turn this into a welcoming, warm and functioning space.



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Mulligan? Is that a Michigan soccer team?

I don’t know sports. Like REALLY don’t know sports.


One of the first dates Darren took me on was an evening of Putt-Putt. There was this kid in front of us…he was maybe 10 years old and kept saying ‘I hit that outta here like Larry Walker’ and would then look at me, as if he was looking for a ‘wow’ or a ‘good job, Buddy’. Anyway, by like the 10th time he tells me his phrase ‘blah blah blah…Larry Walker..blah blah blah’ I finally say to the kiddo, ‘I’m sorry Buddy, I don’t know golf.’ This kid (and Darren) look at me like I had a second nose, his jaw drops to the floor and he doesn’t speak to me again. My 10 year old entourage was gone. Darren had to explain to me that Larry Walker was baseball and the goal in golf WAS NOT to hit the ball like that. Oh.

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The Ants are INSIDE the house?!?

I love nature. Really I do. Nature is amazing and gives me a plethora of inspiration. My soul just feels content when I can hear the ocean or the wind in the trees. My entire body decompresses the second my feet touch a warm sandy beach. Nature is a muse unlike any other.


But the second that nature enters my home my stress level rises just the teensiest bit.


Our first story starts with the adorableness that is Darren and my first apartment. I was a huge fan of the buy 10 get 1 free deals at the grocery store and he was a huge fan of leaving open soda cans on any flat surface he could find. Darren had tossed a kitchen towel towards the sink and it knocked over a full can of soda all over the counter and the floor. As I was cleaning it up I noticed these little black specks. They made me wonder when was the last time I had used pepper and how in the world did I get pepper way over here. Until the pepper moved.


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You are a Rock Star

I can’t believe it was only 4 years ago. It had to have been 5. A sweet dear friend of mine did something incredibly kind and I was having quite an evening of insomnia trying to figure out some way to reciprocate the kindness. Boy oh boy do I enjoy being extravagant with thank yous. It fills my heart. Being able to oooh and ahhh over someone and let them know how stinkin’ amazing they are, it’s my jam. Dude, I should just carry confetti in my pocket and just throw it in the air whenever I want to say thank you to you. Ohhhh, and a band, I can have a band follow you….and churros. Brilliant, I’ll get a guy with his churro cart to follow you for the day. Oh yeah, this is like the best idea in the history of ever. I’m totally calling my churro guy.


The tricky part of this particular situation is that I was on a beans and rice budget and was struggling to make ends meet. There was no way Darren was going to be cool with me going all sorts of exorbitant the way I would like. He’s Lame. Yup, capital L. Churro guy and I BOTH roll our eyes at him.

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A Goose What?

I was first introduced to the world of Goose Eggs when Maddie was 2. She was running on the couch and tripped. Her forehead met the corner of the windowsill, like hard. Dude. Her forehead just popped right out. I proceeded to freak out. I was yelling at Darren to call 911, my poor baby had cracked her scull open and this is obviously what a brain bleed looks like. More screaming at Darren ‘This is not a drill, call 911’.

I’m sure in Darren’s version of this story I was calling him all the sweet terms of endearment in my vocabulary, but I will deny it.

Darren casually walked over and snorted.

Fuming people, I.AM.FUMING. Why the frickin’ frick isn’t Flight for Life already here?!?!

‘Sarah, it’s just a Goose Egg’

A what? I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing. Shut it Schroeder, I’ll call 911 myself.

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I Like Big Cabinets and I Cannot Lie

I just love love love the history behind family china. Heck, I think I love the history behind all china. Please don’t tell anyone that if I had to pick between laundry & a documentary about presidential china patterns, I would totally pick the latter.

I enjoy setting a beautiful table and my heart skips a beat when it gets to be pretty and sentimental to boot.

My grandfather shipped me my grandmothers set about a year after Darren and I were married. Man, it’s beautiful. It is this perfectly creamy gold with gold stars everywhere, it’s unlike any china pattern I have ever seen & I adore it. We kept it in the crawl space since we didn’t have any other storage options and every holiday Darren would schlep downstairs and grab ‘the china box’. We then inherited Darren’s grandmothers’ sets, 3 generations of china and I am so honored to be able to showcase these sets every holiday.

Every holiday it became a little trickier to find everything. Darren would laugh every time I would say ‘I’m missing a box’. Laugh, curse, grimace…tomato/potato.

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Darn Tootin’, I Needed to Buy it….

After mom passed away it took me a while to get back into reading. I couldn’t sit, or focus for any length of time. When I was handed the book The Happiness Project, I knew I had my reading bug back. My next book was by Jenny Lawson. It was exactly what I needed. Maybe SHE was exactly what I needed.

*spoiler alert* she has a new book and I am excited to get my hands on it as soon as I can.

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