Empty

As most folks know, my daughter, Macey, left to go live with her biological dad. She left Sunday morning. I am so sad.

There is an empty in this house that is hard to explain. It sounds insane to say that a house that went from six people to five people feels empty, but it does. There is no one belting out Adele at the top of her lungs. There is less eye rolling. There are no side ponytails. There is one fewer smile, one fewer set of sparklelicious eyes, and one fewer plates at the dinner table. Ugh.

I won't bore y'all with my sad, but I wanted to at least address it. I wanted to tell people why I might not blog for a little while. Or who knows? I might find that the blogging is what helps me get through it all. It's hard to tell. Either way, I just had to say it out loud. She's gone. I'm sad. There ya go.

And by the way, if you're reading this, thank you. Whether you left a comment or emailed or sent a little bit of cosmic love in my direction, it's helped me feel not quite so empty... not quite so alone. I love y'all. Just so you know.

Edited to add:

I know that some of you can't see my comments box. Apparently, there's some sort of Blogger snafu. I'll try to get it up and running soon, though!

Edited to add again:

I *think* I've got the comments box up and running. *crossing my fingers*

"What kind of mother ARE you?!"

Apparently, letting my daughter go live with her biological father is very, very controversial. At first, I thought I was just imagining things. I thought maybe I was reading too much into people's reactions. But, it seemed that when I would explain to folks that Macey has her mind made up and that I'm letting her give living with him a try, people would look HORRIFIED. Surely that was all in my head. Right? And then, it became clear to me last night (after a particularly unhelpful comment) that people actually ARE judging me for letting her go. It's not just in my head. It's real.

Okay, people. Here's the dealio:

Macey is just like me in many ways. Our hair is very similar (minus the tween side pony tail.) We're both bossy. She has my technicolor hazel eyes. We're both very sensitive. But most of all, we are both incredibly head strong. And when we make a decision, that's it. Decision made. And for better or worse, we live with the consequences.

Several months ago, Macey decided that she wanted to live with her biological dad. Truth be told, I think she is under the impression that it will be heaven there. Marshmallows and unicorns and glitter and no chores. HOORAY!!! Of course, I know that's not true, but she's still insistent that she will be happier there. And in those several months, I have tried EVERYTHING to change her mind (short of tying her down to the bed and administering Chinese water torture until she submits.) She's not havin' it. She's going to Illinois. And if I don't let her go, she will proceed to make the lives of everyone around her completely miserable until I comply. And she'll never forgive me as long as she lives. No. Really. She will forever hold it against me that I didn't trust her judgment and let her at least give this a shot.

As I see it, my job is to teach her to be a person. I give her tons of every day lessons on how to avoid all the bad stuff and find more good in her life. We've talked about the super slippery slope drugs can be. We've talked about how to prevent her wavy hair from going crazy frizzy. We've talked about how a boy should and should NOT treat a girl. We've talked about makeup, the best way to get a chocolate stain out of your shirt, and why it's important to follow her heart.

With all this teaching that is going on, I have to force myself to let her make mistakes. Some big, some small. I let her leave the house even though I totally hate her hairstyle and worry she's going to be made fun of for it. I let her get a C on a test because she didn't study as much as she should have (but then had a long discussion about our expectations for her grades.) And I'm letting her go to Illinois even though I think it's a huge mistake. It's a mistake that she has to learn for herself. And as long as this mistake isn't dangerous and won't completely ruin her life forever, I'm going to have to let her make it no matter how hard it is for me to stand by and watch. I have to have faith that she will figure it out and be better for it in the end. And God willing, she'll come back to us... to me.

I'm getting a lot of, "Well, sometimes you have to give a kid tough love because you know better than they do." And, "Who cares if she wants to be in Illinois? You're the parent here. PARENT HER no matter how tough it is."

And my response?

Screw you and your judgmental ways. I'm not a monster. I'm not a lax parent who doesn't really care about her daughter. I'm letting her go BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER. While she's in Illinois, she will be safe. She will be loved. She will absolutely be okay. There is no reason on the planet earth for me to stop her from going, except for my own selfish wishes to have her here with me instead. And what am I teaching her if I put her happiness last on the list and put my own at the very top?

So. She's going. And I can't stop crying. And my heart is breaking. And in almost 72 hours, she will get in that car and leave me. So, for now, I want all those naysayers to leave me the heck alone and remember that I'm losing my daughter here. Be kind to me because this is one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. I didn't take this lightly. Far from it. So if you can't be supportive, go jump in a lake.

"What kind of mother ARE you?!"

The good kind.

Me? No way, Jose!

Here are some things that I should NOT be admitting on the internets. But, I'm terribly sleep deprived at the moment, and apparently my common sense is missing in action. My defenses are down, y'all! And, if you mention these things to me in the future, I will completely deny any/all knowledge of them. Got it? Good.

- Ella belted out Jar of Hearts while we were riding in the car last night. She knew most of the words. OH GOD. My preschooler knows the words to the most angst-y romance song I've heard in a while. What's next? Alanis Morissette's You Outta Know? Well, at least it's not Cee Lo Green's F*** You. *sigh*

PS. If you click on Cee Lo Green's song, please be prepared for VERY naughty, not safe for work words. But, I'm pretty sure you knew that already.

PSS. By the way, this angsty music thing is Macey's fault. It's totally on her "must sing at the top of my lungs while I'm getting ready for school" playlist. Hmph.

- I just chugged a cup of full fat chocolate milk. And then, I poured myself some coffee and put some in there, too. And then, I ate two chocolate fudge Pop Tarts. What?

- I've watched Barbie and a Mermaid Tale twice so far this morning. And it's only 9:30 am.

- I don't remember exactly when I washed my hair last. In my defense, curly hair = dry hair, so it's not quite as bad as you'd think. But still.

- I think I might play hooky from work today and go shopping. *sssshhhhhhhh* Don't tell the boss! And don't tell my husband, either! He may not appreciate the damage to our bank account.

Off I go to remedy the hair situation I have going on. Have a good Tuesday, y'all!

Brief thoughts

My brain seems to constantly hum with thought. I can't help it. I can't turn it off. So, today, I will record it without judgment.

Here are my thoughts in the last 20 minutes:

- I wonder what it would be like to be thin. I haven't been that way since about 1993.

- Are thin people happier? Or are they really just grouchy because they deny themselves brownies?

- My kids fill me with wonder. I should make their lives more magical somehow. How?

- We should hang more fairy lights.

- We should take more walks in the woods and explore the unknown instead of walking from store to store in the mall and exploring the Gap.

- When did life stop being magical and start becoming ordinary?

- Would my life really be all that different if my parents had been absolutely perfect, no one ever made fun of me as a child, and I actually got my degree from college? Or would I still be pretty much the same person?

- Am I headed in the right direction?

- Will I ever learn that not EVERYONE is going to like me no matter how awesome I am?

- Should I be more girly?

- Will I ever be able to classify myself as an optimist?

- Does God really exist, or am I just an idiot?

- People often say you should never judge another person. But what if that person's just plain mean?

- I need to stop judging myself so much.

- One of these days, I will love myself as fiercely as I love my family and friends. Until then, maybe I should just fake it.

The end.

Friday randomliciousness

This is the part where I ramble on about the little random details of what's up instead of doing a well composed post. I <3 random.

- Macey sang Adele's Rolling in the Deep no less than 6 times this morning. At the top of her lungs. With enthusiasm. And soul. She is GOOD. I know that it annoys the ever-livin' crap out of everyone else in the house, but I LOVE it. LOVE. LOVE. LOVE. I only have 10 more days of listening to her sing until she leaves for her bio dad's house. I won't see her until Christmas. I can do this. Right?

- In case you have no idea who Adele is, here's the video. I adore Adele. I adore her music. I think that girl is probably one of the most talented singers on the radio today. <3



- Ella and I are attending a "getting to know you" type affair at her preschool this morning. I'm NERVOUS. I'm praying for good behavior, less bossy than usual and a teacher that thinks Ella is delightful instead of frustrating. *crossing my fingers*

- We were supposed to have a contractor come by the house yesterday afternoon to give us a quote on finishing our basement. He flaked out on us and was not at all apologetic. He seemed shocked that we didn't want to reschedule. If he's not inclined to make it to our very first meeting for no good reason at all, I seriously doubt that he would be inclined to finish our basement in a decent amount of time. NEXT!

- Carter went to Worlds of Fun yesterday with his school. It's a trip to reward students who have good grades, good behavior, and good citizenship. Thing is, he's normally an extremely cautious sort of kid, so I was worried he wouldn't/couldn't check his fear at the door and ride all the rides. We talked about it before he left, and I gave him three very important pieces of wisdom.

1. None of these rides will cause you harm as long as you follow the rules. It's safer than riding in a car. He will not die no matter how scary the rides look.
2. If he doesn't at least TRY the rides, he will forever regret it. He'll always wonder if that day would have been more fun if he'd just had the guts to get on a roller coaster with his friends. This particular trip is a one time deal. Grab life by the balls, my son.
3. Chicks dig guys who ride roller coasters.

HE DID IT. He rode the rides. He proudly announced that he LOVED the Patriot (apparently the coolest roller coaster in the park.) Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that kid to be a roller coaster lover, but he is. And I'm tickled pink about it.

Thank you God/Universe/Whoever for giving Carter the guts to give himself the gift of a good day, full of taking chances and pushing himself beyond his normal limits. THANK YOU.

Happy Friday, friends! *smooches and love*

Darn it, Proctor & Gamble!

This morning, Ella and I were watching Bubble Guppies. Truly, it's the coolest kids' show around. Anywho. A commercial came on. I'm usually pretty much immune to commericals, but this one made me sit up, take notice and then promptly cry like a baby.


See what I'm talking about? Oh. My. *cue the ugly cry* Darn you, Proctor & Gamble!

Why did that commerical make me sob into my morning coffee? A hundred millions years ago, I worked at HeartSpring in Wichita, KS. HeartSpring serves children with developmental delays/issues. I worked in the residental home with kids that were away from their parents. It was the hardest job I've ever had. These were children that a lot of people had absolutely given up on. Most of them had big issues to overcome and were desperately trying to reach their full potential. It was my job to help them learn to do things like brush their own teeth, get dressed by themselves, and communicate their thoughts/needs/desires. It was my job to push them further than anyone ever thought they could go. And in the end, it was incredible to have a parent visit and see their children do something that the "experts" never thought possible. For some, it was washing their own hands or signing "drink" when they were thirsty. For others, it was learning to make their own bed or setting the table for dinner. No matter what the learned task was, there was nothing better in the whole wide world than watching a parent stare in disbelief when their baby climbed a preverbial mountain. It may have taken months or even years to get there, but the victories were sweet, indeed.

On a regular basis, I wonder what ever happened to the handful of students that I worked with. And then I feel a little guilty for not making it my life's work. I was only there about a year because I quickly became BURNT. OUT. It's the kind of work that is better for saints... or people with endless patience and a thick skin (neither of which I have.) But, I miss my students. And I wonder about them. And I hope that they are still pushing themselves to the limit, defying the collective "they", and making their lives the best they can be. Best of all, children who redefine and challenge the notions of "normal kids" are a good reminder to keep living, keep growing, and keep striving for more than you think you can realistically achieve.

Run on, Molly Hincka. Run on.

Where I live... volume #1

I think a home says a lot about the people who live there. I know that when I'm stressed or upset, my house is usually an absolute TRAINWRECK. When I'm feeling good and positive and happy, my home reflects it. Lucky for me, I've been in the latter category as of late. YAY for that! I figured that taking a few picture might be nice... like an introduction to lil' ol' me.

*Disclaimer: I'm not a professional interior designer (obviously.) The pictures that you're going to see will be REAL pictures with REAL stuff like it REALLY is. I picked up a little, but I didn't do anything over the top like hide every cord in sight or stash my alarm clock. Real rooms, people. With crap under the bed. And my iPod plugged in. This is my real house, not some super styled room from HGTV. *ahem*

My first room? Our master bedroom. *swoon* It's my favorite room in the house. Truly. It is ridiculously me. I love it with every single molecule of my being. Take a look, pretty please. :)

Above, the photo is taken from the doorway. Can you tell that I adore high contrast? I think the curtains are my very favorite part. I <3 damask in a big, bad way. Those curtains aren't for everyone, but they make my heart beat a little bit faster. *Swoony McSwoonerson*

Here's a more direct photo of the curtains. Yes. I love them that much.

Above is a view from the other corner of the room. That doorway goes to our master bathroom. (It makes me feel fancy to have a bathroom separate from the kids. LOVE.)

As I pointed out, our loose change jar is AWESOME. I can actually reach in and get the dang change out of it! And please excuse the "Simplify" sign and didgeridoo leaning up against the dresser. I have no idea where to put them yet. Real, remember?

Even above the fabu curtains, this is my favorite thing in the room: a photo of Rhett when he was a wee little man. Enormous glasses and toothy gapped grins and  bowl haircuts. It's love, I tell you.

This is probably Rhett's favorite thing in the room... his Star Wars Storm Trooper mug.  I  Santa bought it for him for Christmas last year. It gave him huge, huge grins. Unfortunately, though, it's not really suitable for coffee consumption. So, it cuddles up his iPod and other miscellaneous cord crap.

And please don't give me any poo about the fake hydrangeas. I like 'em. A lot. And in my defense, I keep them very well dusted and clean. So be nice.

I bet that all left you ooooh-ing and aaaaaah-ing and thinking, "But Jenny, WHEN OH WHEN will you be posting more pictures of your spectacular house?!?!?!?!"

I say: soon-ish. I have to do some more cleaning first, though. I'm all for keepin' it real, but I'm not sure I can keep it THAT real. :)

Happy Tuesday, folks!



Swimmingly?

I guess I better tell y'all how the whole "herbs for depression and overall craziness" is going. I would love to tell you that it's going swimmingly. But, it would be a lie. And no one likes a liar, liar pants on fire.

Thing is, I'm a full 5 days in, and I've still got a headache. And this morning, the headache turned into a migraine. I finally broke down and took some Excedrin headache stuff (which I'm supposed to avoid because of the liver thing, but I was DESPERATE.) I'm feeling a little better since, but still have the migraine halo of yuck. Not as bad as a migraine, but a halo of headache that lingers. Oh well. Better than a skull crushing.

And because I am in complete denial about the neverending headache, I decided that this weekend would be a PERFECT time to get away with my husband for some adult time. The boys will be with bio mom. The girls and Sir Charles Baconpants will be with my mom and dad. Rhett and I will be free to do crazy things like go to the art museum (without quietly screaming, "DO NOT TOUCH THAT!!!!") And I think we'll be headed to a movie (without quietly screaming, "BE QUIET AND WATCH THE SCREEN!!!!") And we might even have a fancy dinner (without quietly screaming, "NO FARTING AND/OR BURPING AT THE FANCY DINNER TABLE!!!!") I have a feeling that it will be lovely. As long as I remember my Excedrin*. And Rhett remembers not to fart at the dinner table. If those things are in place, we'll be just fine. :)

* This post was NOT sponsored by Excedrin. However, if the Excedrin people would like to work something out, please feel free to convo me. I promise to leave out the part about possible liver damage. Mkay?

Funny girl

Hmmm... how do you follow up crying gynecologists? I have no idea. So, I'm posting a few funnies, complements of Ella Bella Cinderella. There is so much funny lately, I could write an entire blog dedicated to her musings. Kinda like Sh*t My Dad Says , but with a preschooler and a lot less cursing.

Heard just moments ago:

Ella: "Hey, howdy hey, Lego Lady! I found your hairbrush. It was in my toooooooe."

She's talking about this lovely Lego lady:

Apparently, "girl" Lego sets now come with cool pink car parts and hair brushes. Awesome.

And, no, Ella's not wearing clothes. It's not even noon yet, for cripes sake. Have you read this blog before?

*************************

This morning, I came out of the bathroom, looking ROUGH. My hair is insane and my clothes don't match. And what does Ella say to lil' ol' me?

Ella: "Hello, gorgeous!"

I'm totally keeping her. If nothing else, for my self esteem.

*************************

Earlier today, I had to give Charlie, our LOUD and lovable-ish Dorkie, a little kennel time out for being incredibly naughty. Ella's take on it?

Ella: "That Charlie! He's got some serious issues. I think you need to take away his Playstation time."

Y'all, she's only 3. And the things that come out of her mouth. Oh. My. She needs a tv show. Or a blog. Or a book (Think No, David! )

Crap. Better go. Lego Lady just lost her head and it's "an EMERGENCY!"

Smooches and love,
Jenny

Sometimes, there are no words.

Today, I held my gynecologist's hand while she cried.

Thirty minutes before that, I sat in the waiting room with three other women. They were all visibly pregnant. I thought to myself, "Ugh. I hated being pregnant. Good outcomes, but no fun at all." I felt a little sorry for them. They all looked so bored. I remember that boredom... when you feel like you end up spending half of your pregnancy in the doctor's office looking at the same magazines over and over again.

Fast forward ten minutes. We were all separately ushered into our own exam rooms. Before I knew it, I was on the exam table, waiting for the doctor, thinking about how much I hate being at the gynecologist's office. I hate the gowns. I hate feeling so exposed. It's just not a fun visit, ya know? Yuck.

A few minutes after that thought, I heard a woman sobbing, pleading over and over, "NO!" I heard, "It can't be!" I obviously couldn't see her face, but you could tell exactly what was going on. She wasn't going to have a good outcome. Chances are, she wasn't going to have a healthy baby placed in her arms in a few months. My heart broke for her. It was all I could do to just sit there and listen. I wanted to get dressed and go to her. Hold her hand. Somehow comfort her. But, I couldn't. So, I sat there half naked, waiting.

Eventually, my doctor entered the room. She was trying to put on a brave face. And she did... for a few moments. Tears began to stream down her face. She apologized profusely as she dabbed at her eyes. I told her there was no need for apologizes. And then, without thinking, I grabbed her hand and held it for a minute. There was silence. She squeezed my hand back, giving me a knowing glance. It was probably inappropriate, but I couldn't help myself. Can you imagine what it would be like to give people some of the happiest and the saddest news of their entire lives? I can't. And for just a minute, I got to see the grief that comes to a doctor who cares about her patients. It was gut-wrenching. But, at the same time, it was a privilege.

So, if you're of the praying sort, I ask that you say a quick prayer for my doctor and especially for the woman who will probably never meet her baby. May God, or whoever's in charge, help them both heal a little.

*ouch!* and *barf*

Okay, I'm going to be blunt. So far, the herbs suck much butt. They give me a terrible headache (which she warned me about, but should hopefully go away... eventually). Worse, one of the preparations is so nasty and vile tasting that I spent a good long while in the bathroom, with an absolutely terrible case of the barfs. Awesome. But, the super vile stuff is for energy, so I can absolutely kick that crap to the curb. Would I like to have more energy? Of course! Am I willing to swallow something so disgusting that I can't stop throwing up? And do this every darn day? Hells to the NO!

Here's the basic rundown of what I'm taking, minus the super vile:

- Magic, custom made potion (tincture) for hormonal balance and liver support. Apparently, the theory is that my depression is largely due to hormone issues. And my liver is not playing nice AT ALL. And that supposedly makes you feel like poo, too. So, I'm taking that, headache or not. The headache WILL eventually go away. Because I'm going to WILL it to go away. (But it would be nice if the headache made like a tree and leave RIGHT NOW.)

- Magic anxiety stuff (also a tincture.) I took it before bed last night, but the jury is out. I didn't sleep well at all, but I'm pretty sure it was because the bedroom was crazy hot, and my fitful sleep had nothing to do with the herbs.

- Flower essence spritz stuff. Think aromatherapy. It smells nice. I'm not sure it's going to change my life or anything, but I promised to try every recommendation she gave me, no matter how much it made me cock my head to the side and say, "HUH?!"

So, yeah. I'm taking the herbs. Does all this mean that I have to stop shaving my airpits? And start eating granola? And only wear organic cotton tie-dyed clothes? If I thought it would make a big difference, I'd do it. In a heartbeat.

Oh, and TMI warning. Proceed with caution....

Did I mention that today is the day that I'm getting my Mirena IUD ripped out? No? Well, I am. I've had it over a year now, and I'm still having enormous problems with it. So, ripped out it will be. I welcome the idea of not having a period that lasts a FULL THREE WEEKS out of four. So, wish me luck. And those happier periods that the Always maxi pad people are incessantly talking about.

*still crossing my fingers and toes*

Jumping in head first.

A while back, I came out of the anxiety and depression closet. I wrote about it here. I've tried SO. MANY. different kinds of meds. None of them have worked very well. And the side effects. UGH. After a while, I was starting to think that I'd never feel "normal" (whatever the heck that means.)

Shortly after that post, a good friend of mine introduced me to a certified herbalist that she trusts implicitly. Western medicine has largely failed me, so I was willing to try just about anything. Well, one 8-page form, a 2 hour phone call, and a couple of weeks later, I have herbs to take. They arrived today. Oh. My.

I have to admit that I'm really nervous about taking them. Will they make me sick? Will I see any difference? Could they actually... you know... work? I have absolutely no earthly idea. But, today, I'm jumping in head first. For better or worse, I'm trying something that I never thought I would. I'm giving it the good ol' college try. And I'm praying like crazy that this is the thing that makes me feel a little less broken and a heck of lot more whole.

*crossing my fingers and toes*

Best. Weekend. EVER. And I am loved.

Cole's Most Excellent Birthday:

Cole's birthday was Friday. The big 1-1! I can hardly believe how grown up his is these days. Truly. The mind boggles.

He really wanted a Call of Duty birthday cake with Nazi zombies. I was having a hard time with the zombies... and the idea of NAZI zombies. Cripes. So, I went my own way. Call of Duty with bullet holes and blood, dog tags, and a grenade. Luckily, Cole LOVED it. (Thank goodness. Otherwise, I'd be screwed.)

Here's my boy with his cake:

Isn't he a cute kid?! And I'm really pleased with the cake, too. ;) After we cut the cake, he discovered that it was camouflaged inside! *squee* He was stunned. And he told me about a million times that I'm the coolest mom ever. (I gotta drink this up because he probably won't feel that way about me forever. lol)

See the camo-ish inside? (Shhhhh... it's not at all perfect, but Cole didn't notice.)

He was so excited with his presents (a gift card that he can spend anywhere and another for the Playstation Network on downloadable games. AWESOME!) Cole was smiles all around. So happy. And grown up. I'm so proud of the person he's becoming. Truly.

Mother's Day:

I've had good Mother's Days. I've had really bad Mother's Days. But today? Today was probably the best in memory. Truly. I am loved. Loved like crazy.

The day started with sleeping in. So lovely! Then came my favorite kind of donut and super yummy coffee... IN BED. I get up and am greeted by smiles and love and hugs. It doesn't get better than that, my friends. There was a card from my kids. Somehow, some way, they found one to make fun of my cursing. I bet you didn't know that I curse like a sailor.... or maybe a sailor's mother, I guess. *snort*  Each of the kids signed it and WROTE SOMETHING SWEET on the inside. *turning to mush* And to top it off, there was a certificate for CUSTOM CHUCK TAYLOR CONVERSE TENNIS SHOES. Holla! Rhett put these little beauties together for me:

These are so cute they ought to be illegal. Don't ya think? *swoon*

I also got the prettiest plant with gorgeous orange follage. I'll have to take a picture of it tomorrow. Really unique! So cool!

For lunch, we headed to Qdoba because it's my FAVORITE. (Plus, who wants to wait forever and a day to get into a regular sit-down restaurant?!) When we stepped out the front door to leave, I saw this:

In case you can't read it, it says:

"Happy Mother's Day! (with stars) We all love you SO much we can't even imagine how to describe it. We all appreciate all the stuff you do for us. We know that all of us can be stressful sometimes. But, we all LOVE you and never forget it. We LOVE YOU! - Cole (the other's would agree)

*cue the ugly cry* Dear sweet baby Jesus. I could barely hold it together at that point. So. Sweet. I'm not sure that I've ever had a day in which I felt so loved.

I would wish that everyone on the planet get to have just ONE day in their lifetime that was as good as this one was for me.

I am loved. Loved like crazy. And I'll take it.

Smooches and love,

Jenny



I heart a good quote.

I'm knee deep in line code and camouflage 2-tiered cake. But, I had to take a moment to post this:

"Life isn't about finding yourself.
Life is about creating yourself."
- George Bernard Shaw

True that, big George. True that.

Busy is a GOOD thing!

I'm not entirely sure I can write a well composed post. So, I'm going to get all bullet-pointy on y'all and fly by the seat of my virtual pants!

- The paint your own pottery mini-convention was great in so many ways! I got a chance to speak to some studio owners who were really needing some advice on their business websites. Even better, some were downright JAZZED about some of my Facebook/blogging/general social media suggestions. And on top of it, I got to spend time painting pottery, making fused glass and listening to presentations about how to make a business more successful. Granted, the businesses they were referring to were pottery studios; but honestly, business is business. Almost everything still applies no matter what you're selling. Awesome!

I made this owl fused glass project while I was at the mini convention. Isn't it cute?! They were nice enough to fire it in the kiln before I left. So stinkin' cool! I'll probably go back to Salina to visit my cousins at their pottery store (On the Pot) in a week or two to pick up my pottery projects. SO EXCITED to see the finished products! And see my cousins, aunt and uncle. :) They are insanely nice people! I totally lucked out in that department, yo. *big waves because I know they're probably reading this*

- I have to talk more about the glass fusing thing. This project was INTIMIDATING. Here. Take these square sheets of glass and make an owl. Score the glass, break it along the score line, and stack it all up. Glass is breakable, y'all. And it can CUT you! But, with a few pointers, I was actually able to do it! I hate to compare my project to other folks, especially considering that those other folks have made tons and tons and TONS of glass projects before. My project wasn't the prettiest or most elaborate, but it still turned out pretty darn well! And Ella loves the owl so much that she's insisting that I hang it up in her room. :)

- Tomorrow is Cole's birthday. He's turning the big 1-1. He wants a Call of Duty zombie cake. Ummmm.... crap. Call of Duty? REALLY?! I hate the theme, but it's what he wants. And when it's your birthday, if it's at all humanly possible, you get what you want. So, I'm going to try. And all the while, I'm going to remember that I love that little man fiercely. You know... while I'm making blood and guts and zombies. Who knows? It might turn out to be super cool. We shall see.

- I've got a metric poop ton of work to do. I am soooo grateful for it. Truly. Just when I see business starting to slow down a little, a super cool client gives me a BIG honkin' project. God bless the Pratt Chamber of Commerce. I'm just sayin'.

- This is the part of my entry that makes me sad. Really sad. Crying sad. Macey has been talking about living with her dad in Illinois for many months now. She is absolutely convinced that it's what she wants to do. And even though it is insanely hard for me, this is just one of those times in which I feel that I need to let her start making her own decisions. Well, as long as they don't put her in danger or basically ruin her life. So, it's final.  She's decided to leave me Kansas. I'm trying not to take it personally. I'm trying not to worry about how she'll do all the way up in Illinois. I'm trying not to think AT ALL about the fact that when she leaves on May 30th, I won't see her until Christmas. I'm trying not to cry in front of her. But, this is hard, folks. Really, really stinkin' hard. Honestly, I'm just plain heartbroken. She'll be okay there. She'll probably even be happy. But will *I* be okay? I guess so. I hope so. We shall see.

Well, I'd better get back to work. And try to convince Ella that wearing clothes today is a good idea. Have a good day y'all!