It's been awhile...

Sorry for the blog silence. I've been in one of those periods of my life where I didn't really want to get on my blog and say, "Not much is up" (a blatant lie), but I wasn't quite ready to get on my blog and say,

"I AM PREGNANT!!!!" (a beautiful truth)

Yep. I've got a plum-sized little person in me. It's been a long, long road, but somehow, I have this gut-feeling that when we meet Lil' Pea in person, I'm going to say, "OH! That's what the wait was for. Thank you, God." I'm already convinced that he or she is the smartest, most fabulous, best embryo (almost a fetus!) ever. I wish I could just hook up an ultrasound machine in my living room and take a peek at him/her whenever I felt like it. :)


This picture is of the first pregnancy test that I took. It's uber-darker now.

And the World's Ugliest Turkey Award goes to...

me.

So I had some dear friends over on Monday: Jason and Jaime, Shelli and Justin, Meg and Chris, Dave and Sarah. And I was in charge of the turkey. One thing.

I roasted it upside down.

It tasted okay, but imagine this scenario:

Justin (kindly carving the turkey)--Hey, heh heh, this turkey doesn't seem to have too much meat on it.

Bill--Hmm, maybe that spot, or that spot.

Justin (beginning to sound really worried looking at the 2 cups total of turkey meat on the platter)--Umm, no, it really doesn't seem to have much meat on it.

Bill--What on earth? Karen?

Me--I bought a 20 pound Butterball! Oh, no, I bought a dud turkey!

Justin--No, wait. It's just upside down.

That's right. My mom forgot to mention that very key step...Make sure that the turkey is right side up. (But she and my friend Sara did a shout-out job of teaching me how to season and prepare it!)

At Sara's Request

I have been formally asked, on this blog and in person, to update my blog.

Here's the problem...not much to talk about. Things are going pretty well here. I visited my new nephew in Atlanta. He's stinkin' adorable, but he's developed some bad acid reflux, and my sister-in-law is at the end of her rope. Thankfully, my mom-in-law and Nana (well, Bill's Nana, but I claim her with full Nana status) are headed over to watch baby Myles tonight so Julie can head over to a friend's house to get some sleep overnight. I'm hope-hope-hoping that she gets a good, full night's sleep and every thing is a little bit better in the morning.

I am instigating a new meal-planning system for Bill and myself, complete with charts and recipes set out in advance and paying attention to (but not obsessing over) nutrition. It's a brave new world, but (a) both of our eating habits are not great and need to improve, (b) our grocery budget is ridiculously high and then I end up not making half the meals I had planned out so that needs to change, and finally (c) I've gotta get a handle on this before we start a family and things go really haywire. I'll never have more spare time and energy than I do right now. [Sorry for the world's longest run-on sentence, my grammar police friends].

Let's see...what else? Oh, I'm going to start selling these little wall plaques and door hangers that I've been making on etsy.com. It may not happen until after Christmas, but I'm very excited about it nonetheless. I'll keep my readership posted on that!

leapin' lizards!!

So I was on a walk the other day, and suddenly, I felt a bug (or so I thought) fly onto the back of my neck when I walked past a grove of trees. I grabbed said bug (or so I thought) and threw it on the ground. It was a big-feeling bug, and my first thought was "dragonfly??" so I looked on the ground. There sat a tiny, tiny lizard.

I checked to make sure he was not injured. He was not. He went on his merry way, and I went on mine.

Note of Explanation/Hooray, Bill!

First of all, I would like to say that it has been brought to my attention that my last post may have made it sound like I was being snarky about or even contemptuous of the big chicken of Marietta. I was certainly not attempting to do that. I have nothing but affection in my heart for the big chicken. Continued affection that I feel time and again as it is pointed out to me by my husband each and every time we drive past it on I-75.

Speaking of my husband, huzzah huzzah for him running a local 5K benefitting Habitat for Humanity. Yay, Bill!!!!

New York.


Paris.


London.


Marietta.

wanderin...

Well, I was gone for 10 days, then came back to a new job, so this is the first time I've had to just sit down and blog.

Okay...the trip. We went to Cape Cod, Nantucket, NYC, and Georgia.

Cape Cod--quaint, cranberry-licious, dang expensive.
Nantucket--even more quaint, even more dang expensive (just to get out there even).
NYC--treated me kinder than it did last time (read below).
Georgia--as Georgia-rific as ever. New Coke museum not worth your money, especially if you visited the old Coke museum. :)



Funny conversation from Nantucket:
Karen: Look at all these adorable shops!
Bill: Yeah, these are the types of shops that people in our area (AR) think that they can open but then they fail 6 months later...like a nautical dog wear shop.
K: Nautical dog wear!! Hahaha!

(Later in day, eating at a quaint Nantucket eatery, looking through a quaint Nantucket guidebook)
K: Oh, my goodness, there's an ad for a nautical dog wear shop.

I went to it. It was quaint.



So NYC. Here are my thoughts...first of all, I had a much better time than in March. I didn't lose my wallet. I didn't have to slush through snow and ice while we were there losing my wallet. I didn't have to dodge around the 4 million (I am not exaggerating) extra people in town for St. Patty's Day. No, the weather was delightful. We walked around Central Park, did every touristy thing imaginable...it was thoroughly pleasant.

However, I am still not ga-ga over the place. It just seems to be this place of amazing converses. You can walk down Madison Ave. and see some of the most amazingly pristine shops in the world. But on your way to that shop, you can easily walk through pools of dog (I hope it was dog) urine. You can receive some of the best service of your life in quaint restaurants. You can step off the curb and have a taxicab driver plow within 2 inches of you while flipping you off.

There seems to be one universal truth in the Big Apple. You can't afford it unless you're willing to sell a kidney.

Really Like!

Found this on candycritic.org. It is officially the weirdest candy wrapper I've ever seen, and yet I find it quite adorable.

Apparently, this is what the package says:

"Tare panda"
"Choco snack"
"soft capsules inside"
"strawberry flavour"
"Really Like!"
"Chocolate"

good hubby

I love my husband, yes, I do.
He gets me stuff that is very cool. Like the Mirror of Erised that I mentioned a few posts ago. (The above picture looks nothing like my new mirror, but it makes me happy nonetheless).

8 little facts about me.

I have been tagged by Jaimelo.
The Rules:
1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules. (**if you’re a non-blogger, you can email them!)
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

one.) When I was three, I had a pair of panties that said "I am 3" on them that I insisted on wearing everyday. My mom would wash them each night and I'd put them back on in the morning. During college, a "legacy" white elephant Christmas gift got started when my friend Katie made me a brand-spanking new pair of "I am 19" panties. I have no idea who has those panties now.

two.) One of my favorite smells in the whole world is a freshly opened spice cabinet.

three.) Even though I haven't been a student in many years, I still get very excited around this time of year about the first day of school approaching.

four.) After swearing that I would never go to NYC again after my bad experience in March, I just found out that Bill and I are going again next month. I will be wearing a money belt the whole time I'm there.

five.) Growing up, I had popcorn and fruit for dinner nearly every Sunday while we watched Murder She Wrote as a family.

six.) My middle school principal who I hadn't seen since 1990 is now my next door neighbor.

seven.) I'm bad about flossing, but I tend towards periodontal problems, so every night, I look at myself in the mirror and silently say as a little pep talk, "I am a flosser. I floss. That is what I do."

eight.) I am a notary public.


That was a bit harder than I thought it would be. Here is who I am tagging:
Amy, Ellen, Emily, Meg, Rebeckah, Stephanie, Tisha, and Sarah is double-tagged since she hasn't posted from Jaime's original tag.

Compliment of the Week

(from a teenage girl as I was leaving PetsMart with my freshly groomed doggy this afternoon):

"Wow!! That is the most beautiful dog I've ever seen!"

I was about to launch into my "you wouldn't believe how awful he looked when Bill got him from the pound" story when I checked my tongue and simply said:

"Thank you so much!"

(Above are some of my favorite pictures of Sunny, the first showing him smiling, albeit with creepy eyes, and the second taken by his Aunt Sara.)

Dang ticks.

That's right. My dog has both Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever (how could a place so nice bring us a disease so nasty??) and Ehrlichia. And I would first like to say that, despite what it says on many internet info fact sheets about the diseases, a tick does not have to feed on your dog for 2-3 days in order for the illness to be transmitted. We keep Sonny pretty well "frontline"d, and the most time that a tick has spent on him would be under an hour, if that. Sunny's vet (the wonderful Dr. K) confirmed this. He's seen a lot of cases lately where the same tick seems to crawl around and bite several times, thus transmitting the disease.

But Sunny's enjoyed some perks to being ill, and so I give you...

The Top 7 Things Sonny Will Miss About Being Sick:
7. His mommy following him around checking on him and pampering him.
6. Napping all day without feeling guilty (oh, wait, he does that even when he's feeling fine.)
5. Morning yogurt probiotic drink with his mum.
4. Going out to go pee-pee 15 times a day.
3. Weekly visits with Dr. K who gives him kissies on the head.
2. That funny look dad and mom get on their faces when the vet bill comes.
1. Hot dogs filled with antibiotics and prednisone (he just doesn't realize they're in there.)

Vive el Santino!

lead of love

Looking back at the road so far
The journey's left its share of scars
Mostly from leaving the narrow and straight

Looking back it is clear to me
That a man is more than the sum of his deeds
And how You've made good of this mess I've made
Is a profound mystery

Looking back You know You had to bring me through
All that I was so afraid of
Though I questioned the sky, now I see why
Had to walk the rocks to see the mountain view
Looking back I see the lead of love

Looking back I can finally see (I'd rather have wisdom)
How failures bring humility (than be)
Brings me to my knees (a comfortable fool)
Helps me see my need for Thee


It's interesting how different songs speak to me at different times of my life. For awhile there, it was Johnny Cash's "It Ain't Me, Babe" when I was super-stressed with boundary-pushing areas of my life. There have been times when it's been "Sometimes by Step" by Rich Mullins. Right now, it's Caedmon Call's "Lead of Love".

I feel like I've spent a considerable amount of time walking the rocks of this infertility, and let me preface all this by saying, no, I am not pregnant. For a long time, I thought that pregnancy would be the mountain view or perhaps having a child through adoption. But no. The mountain view is just resting in the knowledge that God loves me and He's been walking on the rocks right beside me. He knows the desire in my heart for a child. He put it there. How and when and if He chooses to fulfill that desire is completely, utterly, and totally out of my hands. The knowledge of that fact is a gift. A difficult gift to receive, but a gift nonetheless.

Harry Potter

Well, I am finished with the final Harry Potter book. Don't worry...I'm not going to give away any spoilers.

I must say that it ended as it should have and the parts I cried in were not the parts I expected to cry in, but I must say, reading that final page, I was crying more for myself than anyone. Harry Potter reawakened my childhood imagination, and that is an amazing gift to be given. I started reading the books right before the first movie came out, right after Goblet of Fire (book 4 for you muggles out there). Even at the time, I remember that I was so very sad that the journey was already over halfway complete.

During college, one of my friends was reading Chamber of Secrets (book 2), and it was the first time I had seen an adult read the books. I asked her if it was a good children's book, and she looked at me with the most serious expression I had ever seen on her face and said, "These are my favorite books. Not children's books. Books." She's a surgeon now.

During grad school (before I started reading the books), I worked at Steinmart...or the Stein as I like to love/hatingly refer to it...in the children's, gifts, and linens sections (I know...those have so much in common with each other). Anyway, the Christmas of 2000, we got flooded with kitschy Harry Potter items. Stickers. Figurines. Owls. Wands. Glasses. Gringotts piggy banks. Well, one of the items was the Mirror of Erised, and without even having read the books, I just fell in love with this weird little item. It was just a mirror with a gawdy gold surround, but it was actually well-made, and for some reason, I just really liked it. I always regretted not purchasing that mirror.

Then, later, after Ellen had talked me into reading the books and I finished kicking myself for not starting them sooner, I met this boy named Bill. He had seen the movies but not read the books, and I told him that, no, he must read those books. He went out that night and bought them. And now he lets me hog the covers and he even let me hog the final HP book (but I've been sworn to utter secrecy until he finishes it as well).

These are just a few of the many good Harry Potter memories along the way. Thanks, JK.

How much is that doggy in the window...

...the (extremely untrustworthy) one that chewed a hole in our (rented!) carpet??

And he also has a waggily tail.

Goodbye to my Dear Friend

God has called a beautiful soul home to be with Him. My friend Carrie fought a valiant, brave fight against pancreatic cancer for the last two years, and God is laying His healing hands on her in Heaven. I will miss her so very much.

Please pray for her family--Gary, Nathan, Andrew, and Amy.

Once upon a time, a girl got a haircut...

So this was going to be a blog post a few months ago, but first it was too painful and then I forgot...but now, I have a fairy-tale happy ending to go with it, so I'm read to share.

I had a love/hate relationship with getting my hair cut. I love, love, loved my stylist and the way she cut my hair (she's extremely sweet, kind and stylish without being pretentious, and she must have a pair of elvish scissors). I did not enjoy the salon experience. I blogged about this a couple years ago, and there was not much change. Until about 2 months ago. I had an appointment set with my precious Kelli, and 2 days before said appointment, I got a call from the snooty salon receptionist informing me that Kelli was no longer there, and she would schedule me with another stylist. "Oh, no, no, no," I replied and asked if they could tell me where she was. No. I told them that I would continue to use their other spa services (Ha! A total of 2 bikini waxes) if they would tell me where she was. To no avail. Kelli was lost to me. Forever, I thought.

Okay, backing up just a little bit, a couple weeks before the failed appointment, I had seen Kelli from across the room at a new church that Bill and I were visiting (and proceeded to really like and decided to start attending regularly). So I was all happy that my hair budget was going to a Christian to boot. And then, after the failed hair appointment, Bill and I had a busy few weeks (trip to China, move, surgery), and hadn't been to church every week. The weeks we were there, I kept my eye open for her but did not see her (and felt a bit guilty for spending more time looking around before the service started than preparing my heart for worship, but that's neither here nor there).

Well, I was starting to look a bit like a ragamuffin about 6 weeks ago, so I finally relented and called another salon. I first checked if they had any Kellis there. No. I got a so-so haircut, and I accepted my hair fate. Even if those around me couldn't tell a difference (I've got some mad Chi skills), I could. It was just harder to style when Kelli hadn't cut it.

Sooooooo...this morning, I walked into church and sat down. I pulled out my bulletin and started reading it. Then, Bill pokes me and says, "Isn't that your old hairstylist?" It was like a spotlight shot down from the ceiling and a chorus of pre-pubescent boys started singing as I saw Kelli sitting directly in front of me.

Well, long story short, Ellen and Jason met us there, and I poked Ellen (who I had introduced to Kelli's fabulous skill and who had been left in a similar despondent lurch as myself) and said, "Look! It's Kelli!" Well, needless to say, we practically pounced on her after the service--actually, I tapped her shoulder and said, "Kelli?" rather sheepishly, and she gave me a big hug and said that she had tried to call me before she left, but she couldn't get to her client records (which I understand why the salon owner did, but it still grieved my heart).

So the fabulous news is this: she's opened her own salon with a couple friends in a little house right around the corner, and she said it's completely laidback and pretty much the opposite of the frenetic, industrial atmosphere of the old salon. I have her cell number safely tucked into my wallet, and I hope to have an appointment in my planner by tomorrow.

And my hair lived happily ever after.

little life update

I apologize for it taking me so long to post anything new. Quite frankly, I've spent the past week laying on my couch like a big slug because I had surgery last week. It was laporascopic surgery to check out what was going on inside me, and while I haven't felt horrible afterwards (well, a little horrible for the first few days), I also haven't been up for much past the occasional short jaunt outside.

And here's what my surgeon found: nothing. Well, almost nothing. A little patch of endo on my appendix. But no evil gnomes living on my left ovary, which is sort of what I'd hoped they'd find. "Well, Mr. Karen, the surgery was a success. You're wife's doing fine. Just the one evil gnome, so looks like you should be able to get pregnant in the next month or two." Nope. Just a tiny patch of endo. So what's the next step? I don't know.

But our house sale went through just fine. And I'm enjoying my lazy summer in the apartment. And my awesome mom came and stayed with me the week of the surgery and took care of me and babied me (and Sunny), which was wonderful.

So I'm not complaining. Just still stumped.

shameless product promotion

And, no, I'm not getting paid for this. I just wanted to take a few moments to squeal like a girl about the makeup that I've been using for a few months. It's bareminerals from bare escentuals, and it's fabulous! I love how my skin feels with it on. I didn't even realize that I had sensitive skin until I started using it, and I stopped getting pimples. I. just. love. it.

I actually started using it after I realized that the first thing I wanted to do after putting on my previous (liquid but not really that heavy and from a good brand) makeup, was wash my hands. I thought about it, and I realized, if it feels so gross on my hands, why am I putting it on my face? So I switched to bareminerals, and love, love, love it.



And I'm creating converts. So come join us on the fabulous side of makeup. You won't regret it.

2 pradas and a gucci

BEST PRESENTS EVER!!!! EVER!!!!!!!!

So Bill brought me back a veritable parade of gifts...that is what he called it on the car drive home from the airport, and I doubted him, but I was so wrong to doubt him. It was a cornucopia of gifts!!!!!

So the Gucci is the more suspect of the two brands of bags. Completely fabulous jacquard Gucci logo with pink trim, but yes, it is probably a knockoff--but a really good knockoff! But the Prada bags, oh the Prada bags. They actually have a better shot of being real since Prada had a factory literally right down the street in Shen Zhen (one black and sporty...adorable; the other is the logo jacquard with red trim...much like this, only tan with red trim:)




So anyway, welcome back, best-husband-ever, and thank you for knowing one of my biggest weaknesses and indulging it. :)

Oh, and he got me a chick flick and Season 1 of 30 Rock (wait a minute, that's not out on DVD yet...or is it?)