Living in a whirlwind
Jan 31
Holy crystal meth, guys, I have been going crazy lately. Well, crazier. OK, that’s not possible. Busy, I’ve been busy.
God, lay off.
I promised the other day that I would write my weekly wrap-up late, but considering it will be Wednesday in like an hour, let’s just scrap it. Here’s the nutshell: no weight loss, still spending too much, read and finished The Kitchen House, which was OK, not my fave.
But just because my wrap-up isn’t happening doesn’t mean nothing exciting isn’t happening. Tons of exciting things are going on, and I am feeling almost borderline overwhelmed, to tell the truth. But I will power on, as you do, and will be the Super Mom and Wife that all of you have come to love and expect.

I'm just like her, minus the camel toe.
First of all, the baby shower that I have been prepping for finally happened, and I gotta say, I think it went really well. I got a lot of compliments from the people at the party, most importantly the mom-to-be, and I really think things looked nice. I gotta say, though, for all the work I put in (happily, I might add), I just didn’t have THAT much stuff! It’s amazing how just because you hand cut 498 flowers, diapers, bibs and onesies for three weeks, it doesn’t mean you have a room full of them. You don’t. You have one garland, some stuff to hang from a light and cupcake decor that wasn’t necessary. That was pretty shocking to me. Luckily, the location of the shower was beautiful and didn’t need much, so it all worked out.
Here are some photos, since you asked:
- The spread.
- I thought this turned out cute.
- My garland, which is now tangled up in a mess after Declan used it as a lasso.
- My co-host Missy made yummy chocolate flowers, which we planted in our flower pots containing strawberry and forget-me-not seeds.
- Me, my co-host (and mom-to-be any day now!) Missy and Kristin, the guest of honor! This is the only time my stomach is smaller than either of theirs.
So my first attempt at truly crafting wasn’t a total failure, which in itself is a total success. Now that my confidence is disproportionately high, I’ve decided to do it all again. In one week. For Simon’s first birthday. SOB.
I think I’m actually focusing on making everything for his party because I DO NOT accept that he will be 1 in approximately 45 minutes. (Seriously, I’m typing this at 11:15) I cannot believe he is 1. I can’t. I won’t. I REJECT IT.
But it’s here, no matter what. And I don’t love it. With Declan, I loved it. With Simon, it’s gone by too fast. I feel like I am constantly trying to catch up with where he is and what he’s doing. I blink, and he’s pointing and blowing kisses and saying “bye bye” and I think, HOLD ON. YOU WERE JUST THIS LITTLE LUMP THAT DIDN’T DO ANYTHING LIKE 5 MINUTES AGO.
So the parenting cliche of time flying when you have kids continues, and I have fallen victim to it. And like any good woman from the South, when I see something I don’t like, I am just going to pretend it’s not there and bake something.
Namely, cake pops.
According to my friends on Facebook, cake pops are, and I quote, “a pain in the ass,” “hard,” “not worth the effort,” and “the lamest shit ever.” So naturally, I am going to attempt to make them! Because if there is one thing I am horrible at, it’s baking. Seriously, Paul and I have made jokes for years about our first Valentine’s Day when I attempted to make him a heart-shaped cake while not in possession of a heart-shaped pan. It sounds easy: bake a square cake and a round cake. Turn the square so it’s a diamond, cut the circle in half and place each semi-circle on the side of the diamond and you have a heart. Easy peasy. Unless you are me, and when you ice it, it looks like a bucket of frosting exploded all over the cake and then I tried to clean it up with sandpaper. And that is pretty much the sum of my baking experience.
I am giving myself 3 days to make the damn pops, but also keeping the local bakery on speed dial. And don’t worry, I plan on documenting every step of the debacle for your viewing pleasure. You see how dedicated I am? I am willing to humiliate myself, ruin my child’s birthday and waste endless hours and dollars on projects for your enjoyment. You love me, admit it.









