When I Grow Up.

When I was really little (like 3ish) I dreamed of growing up to become "the queen of the world". Yes, I honestly thought that was a job title. I even went to the state capitol, and told my mom, "someday I'm going to live in a house like this". Then someone told me that wasn't really a feasible career choice, so I decided I wanted to be a teacher. Most people grow up dreaming of being one thing, and then turn out to be something completely different. I, on the other hand, decided very early on what I wanted to do with my life. I later (in my confused early college years) tried to take about a million other paths, but eventually ended up back where I started... dreaming of becoming a teacher. The only change was that I added on the dream of special education, which is where I am now.

My mom kept a ton of my school work when I was growing up. I have a huge box in my closet full of papers, drawings, report cards, awards... you name it, it's there. I found this the other day, and it made me smile. My one dream was to be a teacher. Who ever said dreams don't come true, was wrong.



PS I think I owe a lot of this to my sister, who I forced into playing "school" with me every day growing up. And of course, as any good big sister would do, I always bullied her into being the class while I got to be the teacher (I had a thing with being in charge & trust me- some things don't change).

So, what did you want to be when you grew up (whatever that means)?

Dinosaur.

I almost forgot to share these pictures, and I got really excited when I stumbled across them today. Awhile ago my sister made her best friend's son, Lucas, the most adorable plush dinosaur. The neck/body has a big L on it, and the rest of his name is spelled out on little blocks that attach to the body with hidden magnets.











How adorable is that? P.S. Are you ready for Christmas? I can't believe it's already the 14th, yikes!

Silly Bandz & A Silly Girl.

Remember when I wrote about growing up, but always staying young at heart? Well, my friend Shonna is the epitome of being an adult without growing up. For example, do you know another professional engineer that is more interested in talking about whether or not you have "Beiber Fever" than her successful job/life? No, I didn't think so. Not even to mention her obsession with Marcel The Talking Shell, or the fact that she went to her business meeting in a suit and Silly Bandz. She's by far the most spirited and authentic 'girl' I've ever met.

Oh & by the way, have you met Marcel? She's hilarious.

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

Here is the adorable Ms. Shonna and her Silly Bandz, which she carries around in a leather case (not joking). She is one of my favorite people in the entire world, and I really wanted to kidnap her when she came to visit this weekend. But she had to go back to her grown-up job, and not so grown-up toys.









TTYL Shonnagaga, I'll miss you.

On Being A 'Big Girl'.

No, I don't mean big as in the 10 pounds that have crept up on me lately. I'm talking about me finally becoming a grown-up, against all odds. Even though I hated Eat, Pray, Love, it did get me thinking about my "word". And of course that was easy for me, my word definitely would be something along the lines of "youth/youthful". I am, and probably will always be, a five year old at heart [for more reasons than I feel like listing at the moment]. However, I've been growing up lately [hooray!] and even though I'll never loose my inner-child, I'm enjoying the peace that comes with maturity. Here are a few, somewhat silly, reasons that I know I'm becoming a real adult:

• I go grocery shopping every Wednesday & I love it.
  
• Procrastinating every single thing until the last minute has all but ceased.
  
• I remember to wear my glasses.
  
• My day planner never leaves my side.
  
• I now respond to Mrs. Gray. [This was a hard one to get used to]
  
• My skin has gotten thicker, and I've stopped letting people walk all over me.
  
• I'm taking care of myself, even going to the dentist regularly.
  
• I've accepted who I am, flaws and all, without giving into the narcissism that plagues so many.
  
• I'm [so] excited about my future, and am constantly thinking about Dandelion.
  
• I go to the early service on Sunday morning, instead of sleeping in until noon.
  
• I love my life, and everyone in it.
  

But, no matter how 'old' I get, there are some things that will never change:

I'll always be slightly odd.



I'll always think with my tongue out.



I'll always love presents.



... and naps.



And, of course, I will ALWAYS hate clowns.

For The Love of Toys.

I really don't think anybody is too old for toys. At least, I know I'm not. Look at how adorable these toys are, don't they make you want to be six-years old again?


A rabbit on wheels? Yes, please. By Pearson Maron.


Most adorable Elephant by Skunkboy Creatures. I have my very own Skunkboy Owl, be jealous.


A sly little fox by Sleepy King.


Jordan said I couldn't have any more dogs, but I bet this one he would let slide. By Friends of Socktopus.


Ummm, most amazing toy ever. Beatles finger puppets by Pintassil Prints.


VeggieWooden burger by Arts of the Heart. Yum.

I am also obsessed with board games and children's books. I collect both, and am especially proud of all the Pogs and Slammers I still have. I knew that would make you jealous!

A Free House.

Did you know that April is the National Poetry Month?

Well, I'm celebrating a little early. I was reading through some of my Shel Silverstein books the other night and I realized just how happy his poems make me. They remind me of being a kid, and we all know how much I love anything that makes me feel like I'm five again. Tree House is probably my favorite (well that and Hug-O-War) because I had to memorize it in 4th grade. I remember being so proud of myself, I said it over and over and over for weeks.

A tree house, a free house,
A secret you and me house,
A high up in the leafy branches
Cozy as can be house.

A street house, a neat house,
Be sure and wipe your feet house
Is not my kind of house at all-
Let's go live in a tree house.
-Shel Silverstein





Oh, and thanks for all your nice comments about Dandelion. When it comes time for me to name my first daughter, I will refer any naysayers to that post.

Troop 98.

I figure by the time I'm 80 I might be considered an adult. Well, maybe 85. But I am really in no rush to "grow up", whatever that means. I just don't see the point. The clothes are uncomfortable, and responsibilities make you grumpy. I know I have to pretend to be a grown-up every once in awhile, but for the most part I just want to be five. (I like to erase the two from my age).

It's kind of a joke at this point, especially with the way I dress. Even when I try to look adultish or fancy, I end up looking like I belong on a playground. For example, when we went to the ballet this winter all the girls looked so pretty and fancy. I, on the other hand, looked like a kid. Everything from my dress, to my ballet flats, to the huge bow in my hair was straight out of the little girl section. Last week I even tried to find a dress in the girl section at Target, but my sister told me wasn't allowed to! I'm still not sure why?

This weekend I found a perfect jean jumper. I wish I could wear it every day. And I wish it was okay to wear my Brownie vest out in public. But I'm pretty sure I don't have the self confidence to pull that off. But at least I can wear it around the house and make Jordan take dorky pictures of me. Life is fun.





Aren't you jealous of all those badges? I know, I'm impressive.

What I Wore?
Jean Jumper- Vintage (From FreeStyle)
V-Neck- American Apparel
Necklace- Garage Sale
Leggings- Target
Boots- Chinese Laundry
Brownie Vest- MINE!

Even Santa Has Bad Days.

So you think you're having a bad day? Well, whenever I'm sinking into self pity, and think my day couldn't get any worse, I just look at this picture. I remember that no matter how bad my day is, it couldn't be any more unpleasant than the day Santa met me.

I mean, come on, look at the poor man's face.



P.S. The mailman just tried to race me around the block. He was driving a truck, I was attempting to walk two Chihuahuas. Talk about unfair.