Dear Allen

Hi Allen, you don't know me, but I have your old phone number. I keep telling your friends you've changed your number, but they- especially Jim and Jack- keep calling me/you. The first phone call I got was a pre-recorded message letting you know that your flight to Honolulu had been rescheduled. I've received countless calls since then- especially from Jim and Jack- and SORRY but I always listen to the message. I always hope to catch something saucy that you might be up to, but you seem like a pretty good guy. And you seem like you have quite a fancy little life. I've received a call from your driver, from one of your pals asking you how you played at Bel Air Country Club, and there's always lots of business talk with very high numbers.  One time a friend called to see if you had any advice he could pass on to his grandson on the soccer field. Sweet.
Each time I actually answer a call a for you, your associates are always courteous and apologetic, and I let them know to change their contact info. The other night I had a message from your buddy (I swear it was Jim or Jack... their voices are interchangeable to me, and I've told them both to change their contacts) who was rubbing the score of the football game in your face.
Not to worry, it's not a huge inconvenience. I just wish you were more entertaining.
Just thought I'd let you know.
Give your wife Cathy my best.

Sincerely,
Jami Klehr

So Long Thong...

One day last week, I found myself easily irritated. I was grumpy and I think I was actually frowning. It was a beautiful day and I couldn't find a thing to complain about.
Then I realized that my undies were literally in a bunch, and I was making me crabby. For real!
So Big Pregnant Lady found herself some big undies and is smiling again.
Big Pregant Lady's husband was folding a load of laundry (helping out, ya know...) and was completely genuine when he asked me how I liked my new boxer-briefs. He wasn't smiling.

PS I urge you to excercise caution when doing a google image search for "granny panties"...

Why do we keep putting her on a pedestal? You know her, that woman everybody seems to want to be like. That woman people pretend to admire and try to emulate. She's considered successful, powerful, and proud to be a huge bitch. I don't like her, I don't admire her, and I don't ever want to be like her.

"She does what she wants and she says what she wants and she doesn't care what anybody thinks."
Wouldn't we all love to do and say what we want? I just think that part of being a mature adult is to think about how your actions and words affect the feelings of others. 2 year-olds do and say what they want, a grown woman should be able to put a little more thought into her actions. And I do care what other people think. I care what my family thinks of me, what my husband thinks of me, what my daughter thinks of me, what my friends think of me. I care if someone I just met gets the impression that I am a good person. I don't care if you like my house or my car or my clothes. I don't care if you like my taste in music or my cooking. But I do care what you think of ME.

"She doesn't care what she has to do, she gets what she wants."
Hey! I'm all about getting what I want! Aren't we all (especially those 2 year-olds)? But really, you don't care what you have to do? Call me Little Miss Sunshine and Daisies, but if I have to destroy someone else to get where I'm going, I don't want to end up there. I must be totally crazy to think that if you WORK HARD AND BE NICE you will get to the place you need to be.
 
"She doesn't put up with shit."
Sounds kinda wimpy to me. What, does she wave her fingers at anybody who disagrees with her, offends her, or isn't worth her time? I choose to admire and strive to be a person with tolerance, empathy, compassion... but again, Sunshine and Daisies... I know.

I'm not talking about any one woman in particular. But we've all encountered her. And we've all thought that maybe we should do what she does. Uh-huh, yeah, well I'm over it. She wants you to see strength when you look at her, but all I see is weakness, and nobody wants to be weak.
Phew. That's been bugging me. Thank you for your time.
If you need me I'll be knitting baby hats, making gingerbread, playing with kittens, and frolicking through the meadow.
Wink.

Bag Lady

I need another bag like I need a hole in my head.
I don't mean handbag, like a purse, I mean like tote bags. I have a ba-jillion, I love them, and I use them everyday. So with Mr. Baby about to arrive I get to justify another bag purchase... a diaper bag!
Do a search for diaper bag and you're going to find all kinds of scary specimens covered in giraffes and ducks (sorry, it's just not my thing). There are also some extraordinary beauties made from those lovely designer fabrics by Amy B and Anna M. H... really I love them, but my husband protests because goodness gracious, he might have to walk into a room carrying the bag, and he'd prefer if it wasn't covered in dahlia blooms and sparrows. So I thought I'd share a few duck-free, gender neutral, non-diapery looking diaper bags I found while sifting through Etsy listings.

Stockholm Diaper Bag by Ika Bags in... yes, Paris. How fab I know. I initially decided I couldn't justify this one, but after peeking at the shop again this morning, I might be revisiting the idea. Price is totally reasonable ($60), but shipping is steep from France. However, when people compliment your diaper bag (because they will) you can flick your hair back and say in a deep, sassy voice "Why thank you it's from Paris." And then your friends will roll their eyes at you. Love it.

Love this shop! And love the Margot Tote!
Nikolette Bags from Portland has a great variety of style and color combos. Their shop announcement states that they are in the process of adding new designs, so I'm kinda waiting to see what else they come up with. It may not be French, but if you ask me, American-handmade is just as shmancy.

Project Bag in Olive. This shop, Bayan Hippo (Turkiye, Europe) has bags that I swear were created from the inside of my brain while I sleep at night. I love every listing in this shop. Clean, classic, simple, good colors, functional design, and so beyond reasonably priced. I creep on the shop regularly just to get some jollies. LOVE.

So I've got some decision making to do. I'm that annoying buyer who feels the need to see absolutely every option available, then stew and simmer for a good 3 months before making a purchase. The great thing about all 3 of these bags is that when the diaper days are over they can go straight into circulation in my tote bag stash. Woo!

Passing Notes

Source: heyjenrenee.com via Robyn on Pinterest

Aww. Just realized that kids these days probably don't do this.
They text instead. Hmmmm.

Blogtoberfest

Well hello, October! Long time no blog.
I don't know how all of those craft business ladies blog, and work, and feed children, and bathe, and pin on Pinterest (OBESESSED, btw). Apparently I could be making better use of my time. I just feel guilty sitting and rambling to a computer screen when I have orders (orders! tons and tons of orders!) to be working on. So I'll get to work. Less dilly-dally, more busy-body.

Back to business... this little stack has to quadruple by the end of the week.

Me and Ms. Jones

There's always background music at our house. Nothing too exciting, not too pop-ish, or rock-ish, or commercial-ish (ooh that spell checker is blowin' up!).  I like quiet music. Smart music. Music with real voices and instruments and lyrics. And I love Norah Jones. I'd prob never crank her up in the car, but she's perfect for my at-home playlist.
I bought this little number, Featuring Norah Jones (I still buy CD's, I know... weird-O) last winter and dubbed it as my winter soundtrack. It was perfect for cold weather: wood burning, soup on the stove, slippers on the wood floor.  However, I  gave it a spin last night, and it turns out it's also pretty snazzy in the summer. Windows open, slow sunset, crickets chirping. Kinda sexy.
Just thought you should know.
Wink.

20 More Days...

Ahhh, sweet summer. Staying up late, quiet mornings, uncombed hair. Picnic lunches, bare feet, sand in places sand shouldn't be...
20 more days til school starts!
Part of me is relieved. My sweet girl loves school. She loves routine and organization. She loves school lunch. I'll be happy to send her off every day know she will be staying busy and having fun (and enjoying her tater tots and canned peaches).
And of course I'm also a little sad. We've had so much fun, but there is so much more to do! 20 days just doesn't seem like long enough to accomplish everything.
Cheers to making the most of the last days of summer, and squeezing out every last juicy drop!

Fab Foto Friday: Sweet Baby... BOY?!?

Yes, ma'am! We are having baby #2, and we just found out we've got a little man-baby. I saw this picture of my husband and I got a little misty thinking about what it might be like to have a son. Every dream I've ever had about being a mom came true when we had our baby girl, and the thought of having a boy never really entered my brain waves. But the more I think about it the more excited I become!
Guess I better get crackin' on baby boy hats...

(oops)

photo from regansbrain on Etsy

Life is good. But accidents happen, right?
They say bad things happen in three's, so our family should be in the clear for the next few days.
Luckily all of three of our incidents were minor, non-life-threatening, and kinda funny...

Mishap #1:  The delightful young Sophie dropped her bowl of chicken alphabet soup on the kitchen floor, shattering the bowl, splattering all 26 letters, a few peas and carrots, and tons of yellowy brothy liquid all over the floor. Moments like this, we call in our trusty outside dog to come in and take care of the situation.

Mishap #2: Our family was enjoying the most gorgeous evening in months, by taking a bike ride on our gravel country road. My husband, poor husband, trying to race the dog (I don't know) stood up on his pedal to gain extra speed... and his chain broke. He landed on his forearms, with the bike on top of him, and I saw the whole thing. He pushed his bike back home, chain in hand, blood dripping from his arms, and a defeated look on his face.

Mishap #3: A recent cool down in temps combined with back to school shopping is getting me jazzed for autumn. I started thinking beer cheese soup and decided to make some. There come a point in the recipe, after everything is all nice and hot, when you  have to put the soup in a blender (you know where this is going...) to puree the veggies. The recipe clearly states: "Just make sure you don’t fill it more than a third full at a time and cover it tightly so you don’t end up with a soupy mess." Well, on my final round of blending I became impatient, as I often do in the kitchen, and filled the blender too full. I turned the blender on, and the hot boiling cheese soup exploded all over my face. Owww. Rather than turning the blender off quickly, I screamed and ran, leaving the blender to continue to explode all over the counter top.

All messes were cleaned up, nobody got injured to the point of medical treatment, and we all got a few chuckles, and I'm ready for a new day.

Laundry La-La Land

You know you want one.
I know you've seen the pictures.

That beautiful laundry room, with large and lovely appliances. Storage baskets in custom cubbies. Fresh colors, natural light, crisp floral fabrics, and a smidge of vintage domestic flair.

materialgirlsblog.com
And a checkered floor doesn't hurt either.


hollymathisinteriors
I'm wondering if I would make excuses to do laundry rather than make excuses to avoid laundry.


I'm wondering if it would ever be this tidy.

 My laundry room is located in the basement of a 140 year old house. Our washing machine and dryer are mismatched. The only storage baskets are ugly plastic ones arranged on an old metal rack. It's dimly lit by a rickety fluorescent light (romantic). The floor isn't checkered. It's cracked concrete. Eww, I know.
I'm thinking I'll prob just have to keep wondering.

I. Love. Project. Runway.

Season 9. Episode 2.
Designers had to create a look using only materials from the pet store.
Best quote from the show goes to Michael Kors, expressing his disapproval of this dress:

"You've gotta have like, candy corn teeth to wear that dress."

Ca-rack me up!
It's very unusual for me to like a show like this... I'm not a fashion hound (obviously, because I thought the above dress was totally cute), I've never sewn an actual garment, and I don't care to watch reality competition shows.
I'm just always so inspired by the designers' creativity and talent, and what they are able to accomplish under the pressure of time and limited resources.
And Heidi Klum is dar-ling.

Aufidersen

Sneak Peek

My own Sweet Baby Freckleface, in a new design for Sweet Baby Dolly Fall 2011.
Not yet listed so stay tuned my friends...

Long Time No Blog

Well, missy, where did you wonder off to?
Baaah, chill. It's summer. I've been at the beach, the pool, the girlfriend's lake house, the garden, the ice cream shop, okay? I've been knitting (up a storm). Parades. BBQ's. Camping. Family movie nights cooped up and safe from the horrendous Minnesota mid-summer mosquito/heat/humidity combo of death.

Busy lady. But I'm back.
You couldn't get rid of me if you tried.

Fab Foto Friday: Heading North!

If you need me this weekend, this is where you'll find me.  However, I won't be wearing anklets, and my husband won't have ciggy's rolled up in his t-shirt sleeve.

Confessions: I'm that Lady...

I'm that lady who needs to improve her time management skills... or make better lists...or something.
I've been to Target 3 times in the last 2 days.

Hook it!

Must. Learn. To crochet.

I would cover my world in granny squares. Photo found on stitch7.


I would make 1000 of these.


And every baby born from now til forever would get a baby sweater.
Love that stitch! Photo and crafty credits to: thismamamakesstuff.

I have the hook, I definitely have the yarn, but I'm missing that little tool called patience. Learning to knit cost me at least ten attempts, and so far I've only banked one attempt at crochet. And I must apologize for the obscenities thrown at the instructor on the YouTube video.

Fab Foto Friday: Date Night

Well, the little one has shuffled off to Grandma's house for the night, so hubby and I are on our own. We're thinking we may head down to our little town festival (for real, check out the link, you won't be disappointed). Around these parts, each little town has it's own little festival with it's own little theme. The little theme in our little town? Sauerkraut. So of course we're gonna go. Cuz we're sexy like that.
Me-ow.

Love It, Want It, Wish I Woulda' Thought of It...

Aw geez! These are brilliant. Refillable water bottles for your frige! I quit buying bottled water a long time ago, but never filled the void. That's where some smarty-pants stepped in to create the handy tray and market them cleverly. Sigh. I found them on ohdeedoh, you can find them at the 'big red bullseye' but they're only available online.

If you need me I'll be filling my red cyber shopping cart til I spend $50 or more to qualify for free shipping on these puppies. Shouldn't be a prob. That trick gets me every time.

I'm That Lady: Confessions

Sometimes I amuse myself, and sometimes I embarass myself, and sometimes I just shrug my shoulders and give you a lame apologetic smile. These moments will be shared in a new little feature I'll be calling I'm That Lady...

I'm that lady who makes the Netflix selection and then falls asleep half-way through leaving her husband to suffer through the entire movie before he realizes she's asleep.

Well, what'r ya gonna do?

Fab Foto Friday: Just Say It!

I don't know who this fellow is. He came with the hoard of vintage family photos I've been exploiting. Doesn't he look like he's got something to say, and he's gonna make sure you hear it?
Doesn't he look like your friend that comes to your parties, who is really fun to be around for just about an hour or two? He can tell a heck of a story, he speaks his mind, he's witty and charming. But then there comes a point when he gets obnoxious and you're just sick of listening to him.

Ok, Frank, yes, Frank, you're right.
No, Frank, you didn't tell me about the time you bit the weiner dog because he bit you first.
Frank, that's my foot you're standing on.

Regardless, he looks like the dude who's gonna say what's on his mind. Which I appreciate a million times over. The truth is the truth, and hearing it has never killed anybody.

No, Frank, this pimple on my forehead does not have it's own heartbeat.
Yes, Frank, I am too old to be getting zits.
No, Frank... don't squeeze it.

JK + JB

Hence forth, today will be known as the day I let Justin Bieber into my heart.

I can't promise you he's gonna stay there long (my niece just briefed me on RUMORS that his girlfriend is toasting a bun. Oh garsh.). But he's in there for now, and we jam: me, JB, and Sophie. In the car mostly. I typically go for a cleaner type of music, like with instruments, no dance troop, less styling, less production. But I finally realized that me not liking the little bugger is just going to make my daughter love him more. Just a taste, I suppose, of what we will be dealing with when she's 16...or 15... or 14... or... excuse me, I think I just blacked out.
My big secret mission is to show her that I respect her opinions. I will no longer spit-up at the sound of his voice. I will sing along.

Campy Camperton

We spent Sunday evening scouring craigslist for a small, cheap, old, (and most importantly CUTE) camper for Klehr family excursions. And now this is what the inside of my brain looks like...

I'm the one wearing the bonnet...














My husbandito may prefer a color other than pink.
Ok, fine.

You had me at striped awnings.



This makes me drool, and cry, and smile, and pee all at the same time.

The search continues...

Fab Foto Friday

First official day of summer vacation! Hooray!
Love this pic, I keep it on my frige. Makes me feel all naturey-campy.

Thirty and Thankful

Aww. That cute little hairy peanut just happens to be me. Probably one of the first pictures ever taken of me, 30-that's right- 30 years ago.
Gotta tell ya, I'm not really too bent outta shape about it. Maybe that's because 30 is still young (it IS, right?). Maybe it's because I feel content with where my life is. Maybe it's because I'm surrounded with awesome examples of women, living good lives, at every age.
At 20 I was just plain terrified... of everything. At 40 maybe I'll be that burned out lady with bed head, sensible shoes, and unflattering jeans. But right here in the middle, at 30: I'm beyond thankful... for everything. xoxo

THANK YOU a hundred million-ba-jillion times.

My husband has a soft spot for elderly farmers. My daughter has a soft spot for animals.
I have a soft spot for soldiers.
More like a gut-wrenching, tear-inducing, heart-bursting, deep affection, for the kind of person it takes to pull off the job.
I spent my weekend fishing at the river, roasting weenies, and laughing with friends and neighbors. I also spent the weekend seeing stories on the news, pictures on the internet, and flags on our small town streets. All reminders of the heroes who have fought and continue to fight to help make our sweet and easy little lives possible.
Words stop short, but my gratitude is never ending.

Here, Fishy fishy fishy fishy...

Klehr family fun. River fishing.
Look how excited we are...

Aren't they cute. And yes my husband is wet from the waist down (don't ask).

I decided to take a break when my line got stuck in a tree (again, don't ask), and spent some time fulfilling my dream of becoming one of those sneaky, anonymous, street artists.

We took the scenic route back to the car, and one of us ended up hiking through the woods with only one shoe (listen, I've had enough of your questions). 

We were happy to get home, and gathered around a bonfire, Sophie requested some ghost stories. Her daddy told an impressive story about a man who built a baseball diamond on his farm and played with baseball players that came out of the cornfield. Her mom caught on to this idea and told a watered down version about a writer and his family who took a vacation to a big old hotel which turned out to be haunted. Someday she'll realize how clever we aren't.

p.s. Since your so inquistive today, I know you're wondering... and the answer is NO. We did not catch any fish.

Happy Mama

THE best present I've ever gotten in my entire life for anything, EVER. My little freckled munchkin asked me for the stapler about a week ago. I let her bring it up to her room. She was working on a project. Turns out she was working on a book for me for Mothers Day. All by herself, nobody told her to do it, and nobody helped her.
I never used to believe Moms, including my own, when I heard them say that the homemade gifts are the best. Now I believe.

The title is I Love You Mom, by Sophie Klehr.

You are the best mom. (insert welling eyes).

You are in my heart mom (insert big fat falling tears).

I love you Mommy (insert full blown sob).

If you need me I'll be scraping up my melted heart and putting it in the freezer so it is no longer in the form of a puddle.

Fab Foto Friday: Spwing has Spwung!

Don't these ladies and gents look dashing in their spring attire?
It's been a looooong Minnesota winter, and I think we can officially say that the cold weather is over (well, for a few short months). Time to put away the heavy knit wool and bring out the light woven cotton. Trade in the cozy shearling for some floppy rubber. Instead of cold wind smacking in the face when you walk out the door, feel nothin' but warm sunshine kisses.
If you need me I'll be outside, dancing and prancing til October.

Practicing Parenthood.

My daughter? Oh she's the perfect child. Just like yours, I'm sure. And me? Yep, I'm the perfect parent. Just like you, right?

BAH-ha! Try saying that with a straight face! Now I'll tell you the truth...

My little lady really is a dream. She's always been easy. Good sleeper, good eater, adjusts easily, fast learner, well behaved, happy, smiling... I've had very few challenges and honestly no complaints.

But every now and then she throws me for a big fat loop. I can think of four times in her short life that really stand out, when she has had a melt down that is so extreme that I have no idea what to do and no time to think of an appropriate response. All four times my response has been 100% wrong. One or both of us end up crying. One or both of us end up angry. One of both of us end up totally embarrassed.

It's usually about three hours later that I finally come up with that appropriate response. Which is a little too late. Then I beat myself up for making such an obvious mistake. I convince myself that she will become a drug addict and that my lacking parenting skills are to blame.

Then after about 3 more hours (wide awake, in the middle of the night, hearing that creepy music from Intervention and envisioning the episode our family will be on in 10 years) I finally remember that no parent is perfect. I remind myself that making mistakes is how we learn, and that practice makes perfect. So I keep practicing. I remind myself of what a little gem I have, and I allow myself to take some credit for that.

Why you little stinker, Amy Butler

Whoa baby! These images from Amy Butler make me want to blow the dust off my Singer and start singin'.

I envisioned myself making this (free pattern!) but given my track record for sewing projects, the end result would be a bunch of circles cut out, sitting on my sewing table. The circles would eventually be moved to my fabric stash bin, never to be heard from again. It sure is stunning though, isn't it?

I'll take one of each, please.

 




















Mama lurves a ginor-mou bag. Just think of all things I could put in there.

Oh Missy Amy, I'm so inspired to buy one million yards of your fabric and make one of each of your exquisite projects. Guess that means you're doin' your job, Sister.

Fab Foto Friday; Introducing: Flea Market Fanny

That's right Mama, flea market season kicks off today!

Pretty sure this will be me schlepping through the field-turned-parking-lot back to my car today. Maybe three or four times. Depending on how many armloads I score. Don't you just love it? You don't bring a list. You don't know what you'll see. You don't know what you'll come home with. You don't just delight in the kill, it's the thrill of the hunt.
You stand in the same spot for 5 minutes wondering if you should buy that old piece of junk and what you will tell your husband when he asks the dreaded question, "What are you doing to do with that?"  Your answer is usually, "I don't know, but I love it."
You have no need for that giant moose head, but it sure is fun to stumble upon it.
You leave with a layer of gravel dust on all exposed surfaces of your body. You can taste it when you lick your lips. That's the taste of victory my friends. Of good ol',down and dirty, treasure hunting, flea market victory.
I'll meet you at the cheese curd stand.

Wowie Ga-Zowie

Holy sweet website goodess. I think the folks at Spool72 sneak into my brain at night when I'm sleeping and confiscate all of my hopes and dreams and turn them into a collection of the most delicious items available for purchase.

mcintosh dress

nooks and crannies blouse

strawberry preserves blouse

Be still my online shopping loving heart. xoxo

Sweetness

(whisper)
Happy Quiet Saturday Mornin' to ya.
I had two little brownies for breakfast.
When I say little it means little, and actually they were the size of one normal brownie so when I say two it is actually one. It's a little way I trick myself into thinking I'm being extravagant. TWO brownies? So indulgent.
Just wait a sec, I topped them (it) with a pile of berries. Which was a little way I trick myself into thinking I was being sensible. All those ANTIOXIDANTS? So good for me.
So my score is even for the day.
And that was one delicious breakfast.

Fab Foto Friday: You're Invited

I having one of those "hostess parties" tonight at my house.
You know, the ones you never want to go to but do. It's usually some form of guilt that propels you to these parties, but sometimes it's just an overwhelming need to get out of the house.
You know, the parties you go to where a lady is pushing an overpriced product that you aren't even interested in. Then suddenly (two glasses of wine) you are convined that you want and need one of each item.
Yep one of those.
Wanna come?

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Easter?

Mother Nature thinks she's so funny.

Well I'm not laughing. I'm moving to Hawaii.