Monday, June 29, 2009
I love clothes... I love the way a new shirt or dress smells. I love the way my heart can be a bit sad and just the smallest purchase of clothing can lift my spirits. I love the smell of my favorite store and how no matter how much money I spend---5 dollars or 50 dollars they ALWAYS walk my shopping bag around the counter and smile and say, “Thank you for shopping with us today!” I love clothes! So...here for your viewing pleasure is a dress I want...but I am on a spending freeze until July 15th. I thought I would post a picture of this dress and maybe someone out there could give this delicious frock from Fossil a nice home. Happy Shopping! (the belt is not included):)
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Hmmm...It's Saturday evening and I am cooking our family dinner for tonight. My husband is quietly typing away on his laptop and my 9 year old son is outside trying out his new skateboard. The house is strangely quiet due to the fact that my 12 year old daughter is at a sleepover with her youth group. Having a 12 year old middle schooler has been a different kind of season for us as a family. We are now in the throes of 6th grade , cell phones, constant texting, facebook, sleepovers and name brand clothes. Not too mention the fact that every decision we make as parents is now questioned. I truly believe that it was so much easier when I could stuff her in a stroller and stick the big orange pacifier in her mouth and snuggle her with her favorite Hello Kitty blankie. I once heard a famous wife and mother say she raised her children on her knees (meaning she was in prayer ALL the time for her kiddos). I could not agree more. No longer can I bribe my 12 year old with a cookie for good behavior or threaten her with the time out chair. She is on her own now more than ever. I am in a constant quandary...will she make the right decisions, will she be kind, will she love others and remember her "raising":)? I gently snap back to reality and check on my fish that is cooking and hear the phone ringing. My 12 year old has called to check in and to say "love you!" My heart melts. The stinker pants called on her own , not because she got a cookie or an instant snuggle, she called because, well, I am thinking that maybe, just maybe, she really meant, "love you."