We’ll be home tonight after dinner and we’ll hit the ground running tomorrow morning.  Upward basketball (I’m now the coordinator!) in the morning and a Valentine’s Banquet tomorrow night at church.  I always have a great time, but as usual, I’m rethinking the over booking of myself…back when the cruise was MONTHS away, it didn’t seem like a lot.  Now?

Oh well.

I know that it will be great to be back at my home church… with my church family… telling them about the cruise.

it won’t be as hard getting me there as it was to get me to give in 5 years ago…

here’s the conclusion of my story…. thank you if you’re still with me… (and especially if you’ve heard it before!)

Originally posted May 30, 2008

One night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt like I was having an arm wrestling match with God and I gave in. Not that it’s a bad thing… but I said that prayer… and then I told Lisa and then I emailed Pastor Man.

This is what I wrote….

So MySpace isn’t the avenue that I would normally pick for this, but I’m on my laptop and not with my address book…at least I know where to find you….

We talked two weeks ago. In the time since, I have read more of the Bible than I ever have in my life. I’ve been to church; I’ve journaled; I’ve prayed…man have I prayed….

I’ve attended Bible studies and prayer groups. I’ve done well at doing the right thing (I think — and it’s been said that I have by others) — I’ve been working on rghting wrongs, etc. But I never said that prayer…don’t ask me why and Lisa and I have gone over and over why I am “fighting it” and it’s not that I am fighting it — it’s more that I didn’t feel that I needed to.

I’ve asked her questions, and to be honest, I know God has to be in her when working with me because any other human would’ve told me to take a hike by now.

But also in this time I have felt more out of sorts than I have in a long time — I cry at the drop of a hat — like tonight at Deal or No Deal — who cries at Howie?????

I cry for no reason — but here’s the thing Pastor Man — I really have no reason to cry. (well, I do, but I don’t — work with me here….) My bills are paid, I have money, I have my health, I have friends, I have family, I have my children, I have a roof over my head, I have food on my table, I have heat — there are times in my life that I couldn’t say that I had all of those. So….how come I feel that I am lost and alone? Well, I think I figured all this out…and it has to do with that prayer…and I think I’ve been hesitant because I don’t fully understand — I was raised differently in that this “saved” thing isn’t the norm for me…it’s different — and I don’t know what I’m going to do about a church — but here’s what I know….I can’t do this anymore…

Now Lisa says it’s a spiritual struggle and that God is working on me – Great! I need work, but I CAN’T keep going on like this…I feel like God and I are having this arm twisting game and I’m ready to say Mercy! Is that wrong? I don’t know….

So here goes….I’m rambling…I said that prayer. I sat here in my bed, tears in my eyes, and decided that I had nothing to lose — but that I just can’t do this anymore. (You are probably thinking that I am the biggest basketcase…but that’s okay….)

Now, Lisa says I have to go public with it and when she said that I almost said “then i take it back” — see I don’t do public with my inner most thoughts and feelings and that goes for my prayers too…so what does this mean? We don’t do this at the church that I go to…and I’m just so confused about it all. So she says “Tell Pastor Man” — aren’t you the lucky one…..

But I know two things. I can’t go on by myself anymore and I want a relationship with Jesus. I want what you all have.

So I’m rambling with all of this because she said that I should get together with you and make it “public” but I was afraid that I would forget everything that I am feeling at this moment — so you’re getting it in a myspace email.

So now what? Now what do I do? I’ve accepted Jesus Christ into my life and my heart.

Where do I go from here?

Heather

PS. I somewhat had it together tonight and I was reading the last blog entry that you did…the one about the Fear of God – not only was it powerful, but I took it to be a sign — a sign from God. See the only other time I heard about the Fear of God being wisdom was in December. I was at a bar playing trivia in Coloumbia, MO. There was one table that got the question right, but none of us could figure out how anyone got it right seeings how the “Godly” people would’ve been at church and not in a bar on a Wednesday night….

PPS. I am so sorry I ramble… 

I’m still a dork! ☺

On February 15, 2007, I became a Christian. My life hasn’t been the same since.

The story doesn’t end here… because as time has gone on, God’s fingerprints become more and more obvious.

Remember Lisa? The one that was going to be a Biblical coach? Yeah… she decided, or rather, God revealed to her that she wasn’t supposed to be coaching but that she should be writing and has since startedPotty Prayers (you’re just going to have to go check it out to find where it got its name!) and simply His blogger. Aren’t I lucky that for a brief period of time she thought she wanted to be one? Two months after I committed my life to Christ, I finally had the chance to meet Lisa and family and even got to attend church with them. Last November, she traveled to see me share my testimony with my congregation that day that I became a member of the BEST.CHURCH.EVER. I’ve also had the pleasure of being a youth leader and have seen not only several members of our youth come to know Christ, but my own two children as well.

And remember how Matthew was adamant about how he didn’t want to play basketball? If he hadn’t, I would’ve never come in contact with my church. Not ONCE did Samara cheer there.

And one night I asked Matthew why he decided to play after pitching a fit that he didn’t want to. After prying it out of him, he revealed that he didn’t think he could play, but that day in the gym he shot the ball and made a basket. He gained some confidence that maybe he could play. Can’t you see Jesus taking hold of that ball as it left Matthew’s hands and depositing it in the hoop?

Nothin’ but net! Praise God!

I don’t have less problems since becoming a Christian and in some ways I feel as if I’m tested more. But I have a game plan. I have a helper. I am walking side by side with Jesus. And I’m okay.

So, you see, it’s not so ordinary after all. When God’s involved, it’s extraordinary!

I do know that I plan on sleeping in.  (Unless, of course, there are dance lessons.  When I went on a cruise when I was 17, my brother and I took dance lessons every day.  I loved them.  I convinced the hubs to take them if they were offered.  It’s the only thing that might make me arise early on the LAST day I can sleep in for over a week.)

I tried to sleep in a little over 5 years ago.  I’ve always loved my sleep.  But that’s not what happened…

On to part 4 of my story…

Originally posted May 29, 2008

We talked for nearly two hours in his office.  I can’t tell you what all about as I don’t honestly remember.  I know that I said to him that I thought it was cool that a Pastor had a MySpace page.  (because, you know, when you’re looking for someone to bare your sould to, they should have a MySpace page).

I know that I felt at ease and I admitted to him that I could see something in these people, these people at the church where Matthew played ball.  I wanted what I saw.  I wanted him to tell me that I could just order a dose online or something, but he didn’t.  He told me about these people, about the church, about his life… about his mother, a single one at that… who raised four boys.  He told me the things she did right, and the things that she could’ve improved on.  He was so open, honest, and genuine.

But then he asked me if I was ready to let Him help and I said, “If I not there already, I’m close.”

Silly answer, no?  He knew (as he admitted) that I didn’t like to be pushed and he didn’t push.  And I am ever so grateful as if he would’ve pushed, I would’ve walked out and never come back.  But he was real.  He was honest.  He didn’t put himself above me because he was a Pastor and I wasn’t even a Christian.  But more than anything?

He listened to me.

I came home and talked to Lisa some more.  She gave me Bible verses to read and write about.  She told me to journal, at least 3 pages every day.  Not on the computer… no!  I had to handwrite these thoughts.  Having no other options, I did what she said and talked to her about things.

Pastor Man invited me to church on Sunday.  I told him that I would think about it.  The reality of it was, I had to talk it over with Lisa first.  This church was different.  This wasn’t what I was used to.  Part of me felt like I was cheating on the Episcopal Church because I was going to go to a Wesleyan Church, which is stupid, because I wasn’t going to church at all.. so what did it matter?

After talking to Lisa at length, I told her that I would go.  The kids would be with their dad so I wouldn’t have to worry about them in a strange service and freaking out because these people put their hands in the air when they worshiped.

Saturday rolled around and my friends were all going out.  Downtown.  To a bar.  And I was going.  I was excited.  I told Lisa before I went that I was going to go to church the next day.  I told everyone at the bar that I was going to church the next day.

Yes, as I downed whatever sissy beer I happened to have been bought, I exclaimed that I was going to church.  I’m sure it was a sight.

But when I rolled in the door at 5am, drunker than a skunk and looked at the clock I determined that there was no way in Hades that I was going to church.

I didn’t set the alarm.  In my drunken stupor, I figured that if I was up in time, I would go and if I didn’t then they would be there next week.  After all, what’s one more week?  I’d already missed several already.

At 8am I was awake.  And when I say awake?  I mean WIDE AWAKE.  I couldn’t get back to sleep and tried every bed in the house and the couch trying to get back to sleep. I was tired.  I was hung over. I wanted to sleep.

At 9, when it just wasn’t happening I got up and putzed around the house.  I contemplated going to church.  The reality of it was, I didn’t want to go.  I was afraid, which, at that time, which is how I lived my life — Afraid of everything… taking the car to get inspected, afraid to open the mailbox, afraid to leave the house.  I tried my hardest to talk myself out of it but didn’t really want to tell Lisa that I didn’t make it to church.  I promised her I would go.

I went to church and let me tell you!  They did things much differently than they do at the Episcopal church!  They have a projector and lively music and people praying and crying and I cried… oh boy did I cry.  And I took notes during the sermon.  I had questions like “How come it was okay for David to kill Goliath when the Bible says ‘thou shall not kill’?”

I wrote them all down on my bulletin so that I could ask Lisa when I got home.  And they were so nice to me.  They made me feel so very welcome.

And when I got home, I sent Lisa a little message telling her that I had been to church.  When she asked me about the night before, I told her all the details, including being wide awake at 8am after being out all night.

What she said next amazed me.  She told me that she prayed for a wake up call so that I would get to church!  Praise the Lord!  I often wonder what would happen if I never made it to church that day.

I decided that I would at least look for a church, an Episcopal church, mind you, because I had it in my head that I needed to stay within that denomination.  I prayed that God make it obvious.

After basketball the next Saturday, as I was leaving, five people said, “See you tomorrow.”  I think that was pretty obvious.  I went.  I cried.  I wrote my questions for Lisa and asked when I got home.

For two weeks we went back and forth on saying this prayer of Salvation thing.  I struggled because it was so different from what I knew and bless her!  She’s got the patience of a saint.  She never yelled at me or gave up on me.  I remember those two or three weeks just being horrible.  I did nothing but cry, read the Bible and pray.  But I just wasn’t going to say this prayer.

I was stubborn.

Happy Jesus Birthday to me…

Happy Jesus Birthday to me in the Bahamas….

Happy Jesus Birthday to me…

It’s not that I’m trying to rub it in that I’m in the Bahamas…. I’m really not.  However, you have to know that while I’m writing this my children are running around the house like banchees and the hubs is joining in and he’s paying no attention to me…so I’m a tad excited to BE there already.

Five years ago today, I gave my life to Christ.  It’s a big day.  I plan on celebrating today while I’m on the island of Great Stirrup Cay.  That’s the island that the cruise ship owns…and again, I hope it’s not raining like the weather said it was going to.

My kids will head to church tonight and Pastor Man will welcome them and uplift them… the same thing he’s been doing for the past five years… and to think… I never even thought he was one!

On with part 3…

Originally posted May 28, 2008

My life was falling apart.

********

Functioning in the full capacity of a mother was tough. I made it through football season despite the fact that my own introvertedness made it impossible to reach out to other people… My pride stood in the way of asking other parents for help with rides to games and the like.

I beat myself up for missing games, even though I only missed them if I was taking the other child to a game, never because I just didn’t feel like going… and I can assure you… there were many Saturday mornings that I just didn’t feel like going.

Football season ended and my father was adamant about getting Matthew involved in another sport. Matthew was not the athlete. To convince him to play football was nothing short of a miracle. He’d wrestled before and didn’t want to do it again…Period. I did sign Samara up for Upward Cheerleading and asked Matthew several times about playing basketball.

Several times he said no. I was in no mood or frame of mind to argue. I let it go.

We took Samara to her first practice… painstaking as it was. I had just made it through watching her cheer during football, and now I had to suffer through yet another season. Please don’t get me wrong, I love to see my children doing what they love, but cheerleading was not my thing. It’s really just a jealousy issue since I was too fat to be one when I was a child. At the end of her practice, I needed to talk to her coach, and Matthew was on the court with a few of his friends from school.

As we walked out of the gym, Matthew excitedly asked me if it was too late to sign him up for basketball. I turned around, walked back in the gym and asked the coordinator if it was too late. Thankfully it wasn’t and I called the very next day and got him signed up.

The church that Matthew practiced at church that I’d never heard of before. It wasn’t the big ginormous church that Samara was practicing at. (No, that would’ve been too easy to have both of my kids practice at the same place.) I got directions and took him. He played. He seemed to like it and then we attended his first game.

I really didn’t know what these Upward games were all about. I did know that they were Christian based and at churches, but that was the extend of it.

And then this man got up and started talking at halftime. I looked at my ex-husband and said, “oh great, we’re going to get preached at.”

And then he introduced himself as the Pastor, and I was all…”Get out! He doesn’t even look like a pastor.” I don’t know what I thought a pastor should look like. I grew up with religious figures wearing black shirts and white collars. I guess I just assumed that was the way that it was everywhere.

Pastor Man stood there and spoke and I don’t even remember what he said. But at the end, he said, “If you’d like to know more, please come find me or Jason.”

I felt compelled to say something to him, but didn’t. There were too many people, I had the kids, and a gazillion other excuses.

About the same time that basketball started, a friend from the business world (enter Lisa B.) announced that she was leaving the Virtual Assistance (VA) industry and becoming a Biblical Coach. She said that she was looking for guinea pigs and because I love to learn, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt, I told her to sign me up. She had me fill out this questionnaire and it said to be honest. So I was.

I cringed sending it to her but her response was only that she was a lot like me and we began to chat online about different things. I opened up about some of the things going on in my life and one day, I just started to cry. And I told her that I was crying. (Keep in mind, all of these chats are via instant messenger on the computer.)

I admitted to her that when the Pastor spoke that day, I felt compelled to talk to him, but that I hadn’t. The next thing I knew, she was giving me a telephone number. It was the number to the church that Matthew played ball at and she instructed me to call and make an appointment to talk to him.

Was she nuts? I don’t know this guy! What was I possibly going to say to him? But she wasn’t taking no for an answer and so I called.

I prayed that no one would answer the phone. My how I prayed. If he didn’t answer, I could just tell Lisa he didn’t answer and then I wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.

But he did.

You might find it odd that I say that but kids are my life.  Between our four, did you also know that I’m the nursery director at church?  Every Sunday morning, I’m playing with infants, toddlers, and preschoolers.  During the Summer I’m volunteering or leading a few vacation Bible Schools and I also work with the youth… so my life revolves around kids.

Did I mention there are NO children on this boat?

Kids weren’t as huge in my life five years ago.  In fact, unless they were mine, I wasn’t overly fond of them….

My how God changes things…

Here’s day two of my five part series….

Originally posted May 27, 2008

And so my quest for the perfect Episcopal Church began….

*******

I really did try to find a church. I went a few times, but never found one that we wanted to call home… even though, looking back, many opportunities were put in front of me. There was the church that offered line dance lessons where the people were really nice.

There was the church that a few of the scout families went to and they were really nice too.

There was the church that was just down the street, as in we could walk there, and they were nice.

In fact, I only found one church that wasn’t nice and I say this only because they were very clear in their bulletin that they would not tolerate children making any kind of noise during the service. I didn’t know much about God at that time, but I was pretty sure he loved ALL the little children, even the noisy ones… but if they wanted a quiet church, there was no way that I could bring Samara with me.

I don’t know what it was about any of them other than that they were missing something.  I just didn’t want to be there.  I didn’t FEEL anything and felt that I was forcing myself to be there… just to say that I was there.  In my mind, I wasn’t going to do something just to do something.  So I just didn’t go.

Eleven months after I moved to Richmond, I felt this need to come “home”. Home is such a funny word for me to use since I’m an Army Brat. My parents were no longer in Roanoke, but things just weren’t working out there. That and I met the man that I knew I was going to marry… but he lived here and I didn’t.

So, I moved back to Roanoke and again attempted to find a church home. We attended a few but then would get lax about going and then would feel embarrassed about returning. In an effort to make a commitment to going to church, Matthew made his First Communion and became an Acolyte.

I thought this new level of accountability was just what we needed however, we ended up only going on the Sunday’s that he served and then I would get perturbed because every time we went, someone would welcome me to the church, thinking that I was a visitor. I guess in their minds, I was… but in my mind, I desperately wanted someone to remember me, to know me, to be glad to see me each and every Sunday morning.

And of course, the kids didn’t like that church because Sunday School overlapped with Coffee Hour where the good food was and by the time they were released, it was all gone.

I’ll admit it…I gave up on finding a church because my life was a train wreck and all I wanted to do was sleep. There was no way that I was getting out of my bed on a Sunday when I could lay there and wallow in self pity.

That man that I was convinced I was going to marry? Almost three years we were no longer an item. He moved out.

My father had just broken his three-year silence with me.

My children told me that I was never there for them.

My life was falling apart.

Have I ever mentioned that my husband, as gorgeous as he is, looks like a serial killer when he’s nervous?  Won’t that be nice?  Heh.  (And I totally spelled that cereal to start.)

Anywho, without this story, I don’t know that my husband and I would’ve met, or that we’d be going on a cruise.  So in honor of my 5th Jesus birthday, I’m retelling my story.  I’ve not told it since 2010… and so it’s time.

So here is my story….

Originally posted May 26, 2008

I have a story to tell. But mine is just your ordinary, average, run of the mill story… or is it?

You see, I’m not a drug dealer, alcoholic or addict of any kind. I didn’t come to know Jesus while sitting behind bars. I wasn’t homeless or facing eviction. I was just an average, run of the mill 30-year-old woman struggling to find her purpose in life.

And when I say struggling, I mean struggling. I would flip-flop all over the place, trying different things to see if that one thing would bring me the joy that I so desperately wanted, that I so desperately craved.

I had a career, owned a home, and a car. I had two wonderful children and lived in a good neighborhood. My children were smart and well behaved for the most part (after all, they are kids!). They were involved in sports and I was involved in many things centered around their lives. Including the PTA which, I can assure you , never was or will be my purpose.

I came from a two parent home. My parents were good parents and I lived a good life. Sure, I made some mistakes – we all do but for some reason mine seemed to be worse than every one else’s. Mine seemed to cripple me, forcing me to start all over and try again.

But there was something missing. And I’m not talking a man, although there was one missing…I’m talking something greater. Something that I couldn’t put my finger on, but I knew that it wasn’t there and that it should be. I just couldn’t figure out what it was that was so lacking in my life.

I was raised Episcopalian and we went to church every Sunday. It was important to my parents. When I moved out at the ripe old age of 18, I, of course, knew everything and felt that I no longer needed to go to church. The fact of the matter was that I just couldn’t understand why anyone would schedule a service on a Sunday morning… after all, Saturday night was the best party night. Ever. I never made it to one service while in college although I’m sure in one of my letters home to mom, I mentioned that I had. I thought about it, but I never quite made it. Sleep and nursing a hangover was more important.

I had my first child at the age of 20, and then I married his father. My ex-husband was Jewish so he certainly wasn’t interested in going to church however, we went for the traditional Easter and Christmas and this happened through the birth of our second child, Samara. When we divorced, I moved back home and I went to church every Sunday. Because my parents went and because I was living in their home, I was to go too. I can assure that it was not because I WANTED to go.

I loved the church family there. They were nice and they loved my kids (who wouldn’t) and Father Tom was great. But when I moved away to Richmond, my father said, “Find a church.”

And so my quest for the perfect Episcopal Church began….

I’m slightly excited… <sarcasm>

I’m very excited.  I’m excited that the hubs and I get to spend some time together…not that we don’t here in the states, but it’s different.  I’m excited to be able to use my new camera to capture photos that I never thought I would be able to… I’m excited to explore the islands, not on an exusrsion, but just to see what we can find… and, truthfully, I’m slightly excited to be incommunicado.  I guess my cell phone would work, but the roaming would be outrageous… and I have no more money to spend after this “free” cruise…

Next week is a big week in that the hubs and I will be celebrating Valentine’s Day away from the children on a tropical island, but it’s also my Jesus birthday…

FIVE!  I can’t believe it!

But I am…

So that means that next week, while I’m gone, I’m going to share my testimony with you… it’s a birthday tradition around these parts!

Enjoy next week (even if you’ve read it before)… and I’ll see you when we get back!

Until next time…

And this year was a little more blah because for the first time in FOREVER we had emergency expenses that required us to get into our emergency fund.  (Thank you Dave Ramsey!)  They were out of nowhere and just plain unexpected.  IT was one of those when it rains, it pours kinda things.  So that makes another blah aspect of January… all the fun Christmas shopping and then BAM! Tighten the financial belt.

But, I know that if I could just get through January, February would be worth it.

February marks my bloggy birthday… or blogaversary… or what ever term you want to give to the fact that I started this little thing 5 years ago this month…

Additionally?

My Christ birthday is this month!  I’m turning 5!

And because it’s my Jesus birthday, I’m running my testimony again the week of Valentine’s day… the 15th is the actual day…

But I won’t be around on the 15th… wanna know why?

I’ll be here…

With my husband and NO CHILDREN!!!!

At first, I was a little apprehensive about this, but now?  I can’t wait!

10 more wake-ups!  And I’ll get to see Mary Snyder on the boat… and that’s exciting… but speaking of Mary…

She wrote a book!  It was just released in December and guess what?

I have a copy!  Two actually.

Be on the lookout this month for what I think about this…

And when we get home, I’m kicking off a Bible study at church for the women (local?  want to join us?  PLEASE DO!!!) AND participating in a new program dealing with crafting at another church.

So February looks to be a busy, yet fun, month…

It has to be better than January!  Has to!  If not, then I guess I’ll just have to keep looking for the silver linings!

Until next time…

Last Monday (January 9th), I celebrated 35 years of life.  I don’t feel 35.  But I am.

Yesterday(January 18th), I celebrated 15 years with Thing 1.  I don’t feel like the mother to a 15 year old, one that gets his learner’s permit in 6 months.  But I am.

Nestled in between the celebration of the birthdays, I celebrated the life of M. Robert Lesher, aka Pappy Bob.  Pappy Bob was my maternal grandfather.  He lived in Pennsylvania and passed away last Wednesday (January 11th).  It was time.  My grandmother passed almost 20 years ago.  He was ready to go.  This is some of what my dad wrote in their church newsletter this week:

Barb’s dad passed away last Wednesday morning in the nursing home where he resided for the last four years.  Barb was holding his hand as he slipped comfortably away in the night.  Bob was born in Chambersburg, PA in 1923 and enlisted into the Army Air Corps in 1941.  His real claim to fame in WWII was that he “helped himself” to Gen McArthur’s whole milk as his command plane was being serviced and refueled in the Pacific Theater.  Bob made airplanes for awhile at Fairchild Industries and then spent the rest of his life selling and repairing recreational vehicles.  Bob was predeceased by his wife Florence in 1992 and leaves behind two children and seven great grandchildren.  Barb called her father every night at 6:00 and sent him a package every week for the last four years.

Me and my grandpa 35 years ago…

A death can bring down, or rob the joy of, the celebrations of birthdays but not around here.  I chose to look at the silver lining of things.  I say I chose, but I can honestly say it’s not be a conscious effort.  It’s just kind of happened.  For example….

• My mother drove up to Pennsylvania on my birthday to be with him in his last stages of life.  She stopped here and I got a real, live hug… on my actual birthday.  From my mother.  I can’t tell you the last time I had that.
• For whatever reason, the hubs decided to throw me a surprise birthday party that same day.  Upon returning home from dropping Things 2 and 4 at Girl Scouts there were 21 friends in my house.. for me… to celebrate with me… and how awesome is that?  The love of friends when you’ve just learned that your grandfather is dying…I needed it.  I loved it.  I’m grateful for it.

• My grandfather passed early Wednesday morning… just two days after my birthday.  After work, I drove to Pennsylvania with my mother leaving the family behind.  I got two whole days in Pennsylvania with my mother, spending quality time with her.  That’s something that I never get… and oh. my. word. did we have a good time.
• Not only did I get 2 days in Pennsylvania with her, I convinced her to stay a day with us in Roanoke before heading back to Tennessee.  We shopped.  We measured for curtains.  She taught me to knit.  She taught me how to make a favorite childhood meal of mine.  We laughed. (At some point in time, the hubs will learn to take flattering pictures of me… but I’m grateful he thinks to take pictures of important moments…)

• While in Pennsylvania, I got to buy whoopie pies, Pot Pie noodles, ham loaf, Lebanon Sweet Bologna, Gibbles pretzels, and a host of other items that you just can’t get here… AND I ate at several local diners… where I had the best fries and gravy AND omelette (not at the same meal of course) that I’ve ever had.

• After coming back from Pennsylvania Thing 1 came down with the stomach bug.  I hated that he was sick, but LOVED the fact that he needed his mom…and that he kept telling me thank you and that he loved me.  AS soon as the bug was gone, I was back to being just mom.

It’s been a roller coaster the first 18 days of the year, but all in all… this silver lining and celebration thing?

It’s not really all that bad…..

Until next time…

Most of the time?

It’s amazing.

Like the Christmas ornaments I made out of floor wax and glitter?

I gave some as gifts.  I made sure that all the family members got one.  I even kept a few for myself.

They loved them!  (And it was more than just my mom!  She loves everything I make!)

My decorating took off around the House of Chaos and when the Christmas decor came down, it was quite boring, blah, and well, depressing around here.

So I took matters into my own hands and found some Valentine’s Day stuff to make.  The hubs is thrilled.  He pink puffy hearts the day.  Me? Eh.  Not so much.

But I like making things and I love the house when it’s warm and cozy and decorated so this seems to please both of us.

Besides.  Thinking about Valentine’s Day makes me think about the cruise that we won because we’ll be celebrating that day in the Bahamas!  Woot!

I digress.

Julie at From Inmates to Playdates asked if there was a tutorial for the wreath that I showcased yesterday.  And?  There is.  Obviously, I learned how to make it somewhere.  I’m not that creative.  (I just follow instructions well.)

But, because I wanted to play with my new camera and feel like I run a craft blog flesh out a few of the instructions AND have a What I Learned This Week Post, I came up with a tutorial of my own.

The Felt Heart Wreath

Items Needed:

• Styrofoam heart wreath shape (I got mine at Joann’s — I didn’t see one at AC Moore and I didn’t check Michael’s and used my 50% off coupon — so it came to $2.50)
• 3/4 yard of red felt from the bolt  (The 72″ bolts) — it runs about $4.99 a yard.  I managed to catch mine on sale at $2.99/yard
• Stick pins (at least 150 or so… I bought a pack of 250 for about $3)
• scissors (you’re going to use them alot)
• time — I worked on this over the course of two days

Minus the empty soup bowl and Christmas cup left on the table from dinner.

And just in case you are obsessive… like me… here is what a close up of the wreath looks like.

A few notes about this… you don’t have to do the back.  In fact, when I started the first time, I only did two rows down each side before I decided that it looked forced and tore half of it out.  And there is no wrong way to do it.  And Amy over at the Idea Room has some GREAT ideas… I’m thankful that she provided the tutorial that she did!

I forgot how hard it was to cut out all those flippin’ circles love the way that it turned out so much that I took my left over felt and am making topiaries out of two styrofoam balls and glasses that I picked up at the Dollar Store!

And this?  Is what I learned this week. What did you learn this week?  Link up at From Inmates to Playdates

And, uh… oh yeah…I’ve figured out how to (I think!) add a “pin it” button to my posts!

Nevermind… a project for another day!

Until next time…

I now have one of those pairs of scissors.

After seeing the price tag of $22, I know why she got mad when they were used on something other than material.  (Like cutting cardboard to make a ramp for the hotwheels…)  I used a coupon of course, but still.

I will kill the person that takes my “good” scissors.

And it came to this because I can’t find one non-safety pair of scissors in this house EXCEPT the ones that came with the hair clippers.  And I bought several over the holiday season, along with a miriad of tape, that I also can’t find.

Our house apparently eats scissors and tape.

After cutting out over 100 felt circles to make this….

My fingers just couldn’t take it anymore… and I marched myself to the craft store to buy a pair… and some new yarn.  Because I finished the wreath and now I’m on to working on this….

But not in those colors.  Just because it’s a Martha Stewart pattern, doesn’t mean that I have to use her $7 a skein yard… which are really small balls of yarn… and i would need 15.  It’s just not worth it.

I’ll have to tell the kids to lay off my loom and yarn too, because they like to get into those things as well.

And they all wonder why I take a sharpie to all the items I get at Christmas…

Until next time…