GIVEAWAY -CONTEST WINNER!!!

CONTEST WINNER ANNOUNCED - Tamra, please contact me and we can discuss your custom shirt!!

It's been a long time since I've had any contests! In celebration of my new group membership into Wisterialane, I've got a little giveaway going on. I am giving away one personalized tee, valued at $30. If your name is chosen, a tee will be customized with your child's name and will feature one special appliqued design (which we will plan out together!).

To get one entry, write a little comment here. Want two entries? Mention my blog on your blog (and then send me your link).

Example of a previously sold personalized shirt:


So, don't you want one? Enter the contest by posting a comment in this thread. Tell me what YOU would like to see appliqued on the shirt. And if you don't win the contest, you can find these and other appliqued shirts in my Etsy store (link on the left).

Exactly the same

This weekend I went to a child's birthday party and another one of the moms came up to me. She recognized me from elementary school! "You haven't changed at all! You look exactly the same!"

I suppose at 35 I should be thankful that someone I played hopscotch at recess with when we were 6 still recognizes me, but I'm not completely sold on the idea. I mean, do I really want to look the same as I did in the late 70s when I had an affinity for plaid bell-bottomed pants and pigtails? Do I still look the same as I did in the 80s when I was rockin' blue mascara and hot pink leggings? And in jr. high, when I was perming my hair and trying to rat out sky-high bangs?

I've been feeling a little melancholy lately after joining the Facebook ranks. While my high school pals have moved across the country, are happily married with children and living the life of the stay-at-home-mom, I still feel stuck in the same place I've been since I was born. Perhaps it's showing on the outside too?

I stared at this other woman, trying to place her and was unable to see what she looked like as a kindergartener, middle-schooler, high-schooler. How was this woman able to look at me and see me exactly the same as when we were 5? Has my face changed so little over the years? If I look the same, perhaps it's time to mix things up a bit. I don't really look the same after all, I certainly don't wear blue mascara anymore and I haven't permed my hair since I was 16. I think I'll just take "you look the same" as a compliment to my good skincare routine!

Little old me at 4 years old:

Putting it together

My son LOVES Legos. And he's good at creating things with his imagination, like this supercool transporter that features Lego-Man, Indiana Jones and a few Star Wars Stormtroopers. Check out the nifty propeller too!



I have no creativity when it comes to Legos. I can make a building, a nice square little box but that's about where it ends. But I can cut out a pattern, sew the pieces of it together and create something that was once just a square of fabric, so I guess I'm not too bad off!

Male Bonding

We have a very nice neighbor, a young man who has custody of his daughter on the weekends. Since his daughter is the same age as my son, he brings her over to play on Sunday afternoons. The kids are still at an age where "playing" consists of chasing each other around the yard, not-so-patiently taking turns on the swing and my son tattling on his friend, always the "self-appointed cop".

My neighbor is great with his daughter, very engaging and interactive with her. When they visit, he plays soccer with my son, pushes them both on the swing and chases them around the tree in our front yard. Yesterday my heart actually ached inside after seeing my neighbor and son together because it was so obvious that my son is yearning for some male bonding. If my neighbor did something with my daughter, like spin her in the air, lift her into the tree, tickle her or push her on the swing, my son asked him to do the same. And my neighbor very nicely complied as he does every week. He knows that my son's father isn't really in the picture much and that my son is craving some male bonding and rough-housing.

When my neighbor got ready to leave, my son called out to him, "bye, love you!" And my neighbor smiled and said, "love you too, buddy!" *oh, my heart*