It started out as a good idea...

....but then reality set in.


I hadn't repainted my toenails since the pedicure I got with my mom over a month and half ago, so I took advantage of the kids sleeping or playing, and decided to join Chris on the couch while he polished his patrol boots.

From a distance they don't look too bad, but why so messy?

The culprit:

A bulging belly that protested with kicks every time I tried I tried to paint a toe. I leaned over, pulled a leg up, angled from the side, you name it. The little kicker did NOT want my leg anywhere near him!

Just a few weeks to go, though I have to admit, he hasn't been NEARLY as violent of a kicker as Seth and Eliza were. A part of me will miss the belly personality, but the after effect of a newborn will be worth it!

Revenge of the Nails

For the first time in my life, I had acrylic nails done during my Girl's Weekend a few weeks back. I also went on a 4-wheeler ride to pick wildflowers then later made arrangements out of them, placing them around the cabin. Doesn't that all sound lovely?


Well, it was. When I returned home refreshed after a relaxing weekend, Chris loved getting scalp massages with my new french-manicured talons. My nails made any outfit I wore look feminine and cute, even if it was just jeans and a t-shirt. Why didn't I discover this before? I asked myself. Little did I know how those thoughts hurt my natural nails.

As girly as I felt with my new, beautiful nails, I also realized their were a few things I had to relearn. Quickly.

I relearned how to shut sliding bathroom doors, how to do up (and undo) buttons, type, backspace then re-type what my fingernails mis-typed, use touch screens, and apply make-up. My fine motor skills were tested beyond capacity when I realized I could no longer pop pimples or open simple containers like soda cans and spice lids. I don't want to even mention changing diapers. That's been blocked from my memory.

What was definitely impressive was how well they held up. I'd bump and wash, cook and clean and my nails looked just as good as before! I had invincible nails (that looked pretty, too) that seemed better than my natural nails. That's where I made my mistake and the natural nails began to fight back. Within the close of the first week of acrylic nail wearing, I witnessed how fast nail growth actually occurs, as my real nail bed start to show.

I also noticed that the edges of and underneath the nails like to collect things, such as make-up remover with mascara goop, food, little lintys, and again, my memory's been wiped clean of diaper changing.

A month later, they had nearly 1/2 inch of nail growth as my natural nails began to take over. Parts of the french manicure were cracked and I no longer felt pretty with my acrylic nails. They were an embarrassment in which regular acrylic users get a fill and maybe change things up a bit. Not me.

I REALLY missed being able to pinch blackheads and type fast, so I skipped the fill. You'd think my natural nails would rejoice and do all they could to get that nasty artificial creation off of them. Oh, no. They wanted me to suffer first.

Well, this morning I decided enough was enough after my right index finger's nail came off (painfully) while opening the car door. I was going to remove my acrylic nails myself. The natural nails rejoiced over their victory and sat back to enjoy the show.

I remembered being told that acetone would remove acrylic nails, so I grabbed some and started to soak.

And soak.

Nothing really happened! They got a little gummy and ugly, my skin on my fingers got all dry, but to no avail. I had to run to the grocery store for some milk, so I thought I'd see if they had any nail polish remover specifically for removing acrylic nails. They didn't, but the store DID have a fellow weekend girl that also got her nails done. I noticed they were gone and asked her how she did it.

"I used the little file on the nail clippers and wedged it under until they popped off."

"Did it hurt?"

"Well, a little, but when I had my husband help with the other side, that REALLY hurt!"

She was absolutely right. I can honestly say that I have found an effective torture device if you need to get information from someone wearing acrylic nails. Behold, the revenge of my nails:

Aw, that's not so bad you may say.

Well, take a closer look at the actual nails.

They wanted to let me know how unimpressed they were with the french-tipped acrylic monstrosity that had lain over top of them for the last month.

They decided to physically show how hurt they were that I would forget all that they've done for me and all the good times we had with manicures and lotions.

They reminded me WHY I never got acrylic nails before:

The ugly side of acrylics. Boo! Hiss!

I'm almost tempted to keep the carnage for a Halloween practical joke...

Now, if you'll excuse me. I have some TLC in the form of Satin Hands to attend to for my poor nails. I'll never forget about you again!

My Rad 80's Hair

Believe me, this is a post you do NOT want to miss!

As I was looking through old pictures to scan for reunions, etc... I couldn't stop laughing at the morphing my head has had in the last 20+ years. It probably didn't help that it was super late at night while I was scanning.

Everyone that has known me since I was in diapers knows how long it took my hair to grow. Mom pierced my ears as a toddler because she was tired of being told "What a cute little boy you have!"


Ear piercing actually helped to stimulate hair growth, I guess, because it grew rapidly after that, in which bows would actually stay in my hair and cute bobs came to be.

But alas, straight hair was short-lived while in my youth.

I was also blessed enough to be a child of the 80s, so any cute potential that my hair had was doomed to perms and big bangs. Observe:

It's not the 80s unless you also throw in neon paint splatters to go with the big hair.

You can also see the consumer trends of the decade that went with my awesome fro. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles couldn't even dent my 'do! And yes, you DO get to see the spider shades again! My proof picture that I was, indeed, a nautral redhead at one point in my life. Doesn't Eric look cute though?!

After a camping trip to my Grandpa's Range, I think it took multiple washings to get all the gunk out of my hair because of its snarly awesomeness. And yes, my cousin Kayla IS giving the one-fingered salute.


Even super fluffy coats couldn't distract the eye from the size of the hair!

And now you know where (or who, I should say) I got it from

So when's big hair totally cool? When a punk rocker and in the presence of skeletons and vampires.

What's a beautiful view in Portland without some big hair to look at first?

No, this picture isn't horrible, but unicorns AND big hair?! Honestly.

Steady yourself, here's where it gets REALLY bad:

Curley cues began getting minds of their own like the curl in the middle of my forehead (and that's Nathan sleeping in the background with a haircut Matt gave him right before family pictures, but I digress) Let's refocus on the epitome of the decade.

What's the 80s without MacGyver?!
As cool as MacGyver's mullet was, it REALLY doesn't work on school girls

See?! Well, how's about we keep the outfit and do something different with the hair? Side ponytail, perhaps?

Nope. Proof that side ponytails should never have been invented. But getting a picture next to giant crayons? Priceless.

At least birthdays mean a person can do (or look like) whatever they want. Check out my 7th birthday, and yes, Ryan's marveling over the wonder of my big hair instead of watching me blow out my candles.

Just look at the cute boy hair Matt had! Now both Ryan and Matt have none... Hmm. I sense something terribly ironic on the tip of my tongue right now...

Actually, what's ironic is that I was in church when this picture was taken.

Now, for the finale!

Behold, the answer to a decade of awkward stage issues and the knowledge you now have that your hair can NEVER look as bad as mine did:

TA-DAAAAAA!!!!

I DARE you to disagree! Oh, and you'll have to prove it in a post of your own. Yeah, I thought so.

Just like Mommy

Unbeknownst to me as I was putting lotion on my legs last night, another little hand was also dipping into the jar of cream.

She had also put on my Mary Jane's from yesteryear which are too small for her feet but make fun clicking sounds on the wood floors, so she has to wear them everywhere.

I'm trying to get the jar from her,but it's so covered in lotion that it just gets gunk all over my fingers, which I then put on my arms.

I guess she wanted to taste it to see if it tasted as good as it smelled. If you'll notice, she first put it on her leg like I did. Only Eliza had her jammy bottoms on. Obviously, she was not deterred and stubbornly worked that lotion through so it eventually got into the skin. After going through the jammies first.

I had moved on to my hands, so Eliza decided to as well. Doesn't she look content? Don't be fooled. It's actually a look of mischief because she knows she got away with something that she shouldn't have been doing.

She just wanted to be like mommy, I guess, and proceeded to put lotion on her belly (also over her jammy top), mouth, arms, etc... while mommy only did her arms, the little overachiever.


I couldn't really get mad at her though. I know where she got it from.




Like mother, like daughter!